An old but inspiring email chain between two strangers (back in the days when social networking sites were just taking shape)....
----- Original Message:
inevitably, i've placed myself at somewhat of an impasse...you see, i wish to tell you something genuine about all of what your page says to, about and for you and how that has in some very real way spoken to me...i suppose it was because much of it has been spoken before from the lips of my own thoughts...for that i will smile the smile of certainty ...the inward grin one makes when one has stumbled upon a great secret of the universe...i've come back to a place where i reaffirm that the few who do exist, do so with a vibrancy and dynamism befitting of the word living....as strawberry to passion, so too are you and awareness, thanks for the smile...
-PS
‡
I think we all have a need to project and express ourselves on a blank canvas in order to catch a glimpse of ourselves that we would otherwise miss. I suppose I filled my page with those words and pictures with the knowledge that I would retain a certain and yet uncertain anonymity. I often think I know myself, but sometimes, I don't really form an opinion until I see myself through another's eyes. Thank you for that glimpse of self and blind faith.
smiling back,
K
Monday, August 4, 2008
Saturday, August 2, 2008
One
August 1. V and I had an interesting conversation last night. Perhaps it was our tapas and sangria induced state, or simply an outpouring of thoughts we had kept so close to the vest, but it was good food for thought.
People move on, move away and grow apart. At the end of the day, it's those around you that matter most. Whether there in body or spirit, they understand you and love you unconditionally for who you are, and not what you can do for them. Maybe it's a quality few or one. It's a conscious decision and a conscious effort in who you let in. And if you're fortunate enough to choose wisely, they accept the invitation and stay indefinitely.
People move on, move away and grow apart. At the end of the day, it's those around you that matter most. Whether there in body or spirit, they understand you and love you unconditionally for who you are, and not what you can do for them. Maybe it's a quality few or one. It's a conscious decision and a conscious effort in who you let in. And if you're fortunate enough to choose wisely, they accept the invitation and stay indefinitely.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Wanderlust
I remember the trip quite vividly. It was my first time backpacking in the foothills of the English countryside. We had no real itinerary, just a map in our hands and an open ticket. We saw so many amazing places and often reveled in silence together. It was a bittersweet time because it was a trip with an impending goodbye. It was also a happy time for me because I was traveling and exploring places where natural beauty was wildly abundant and untouched by time (some even traversed by Tolkien himself).
It's probably silly of me to think about it now, but I was reminded of that wrinkle in time by my wallpaper photo (of all things). The landmark we were supposed to see was closed for the evening, so we improvised and explored around it, over it and under it. It was a decent hike to the top of the cliff, and well worth it. We were the only two people there. With clear blue skies, we could see stretches of land and sea for miles in all directions. We saw the tip of France.
As much as it was a trip of two, it was also a trip of one. Despite an initial travel mishap and being stranded in London alone, jetlagged and dragging 45 pounds of dead weight, I decided to embrace the experience. By plane, train, bus and foot, I traveled to the point of exhaustion, but my brain was wide awake. My senses were always stimulated, yet tapped into a sort of calm that only happens when one's heart is happy and contentedly full.
It was a trip with purpose. I became a wanderer and a seeker. I walked away with a renewed sense of purpose, self knowledge and spirit. And with every trip thereafter, that knowledge continues to unfold. The heart is fed. The spirit is awakened.
It's probably silly of me to think about it now, but I was reminded of that wrinkle in time by my wallpaper photo (of all things). The landmark we were supposed to see was closed for the evening, so we improvised and explored around it, over it and under it. It was a decent hike to the top of the cliff, and well worth it. We were the only two people there. With clear blue skies, we could see stretches of land and sea for miles in all directions. We saw the tip of France.
As much as it was a trip of two, it was also a trip of one. Despite an initial travel mishap and being stranded in London alone, jetlagged and dragging 45 pounds of dead weight, I decided to embrace the experience. By plane, train, bus and foot, I traveled to the point of exhaustion, but my brain was wide awake. My senses were always stimulated, yet tapped into a sort of calm that only happens when one's heart is happy and contentedly full.
It was a trip with purpose. I became a wanderer and a seeker. I walked away with a renewed sense of purpose, self knowledge and spirit. And with every trip thereafter, that knowledge continues to unfold. The heart is fed. The spirit is awakened.
Monday, June 30, 2008
V-squared
I love how two seemingly similar people can be so different. They spent their formative years together in college and from what I understand, they shared some turbulent, eye-opening and wild times. That's part of the colorful story best friends should tell. They influenced one another in all the ways that count and supported each other through hard times.
I didn't have the pleasure of knowing them back then, but I'm honored to know the dynamic duo today. They're both strong, smart, savvy women who know what they want and never hesitate to go after it. They're gutsy, shameless and spontaneous. They have the ability to make me laugh and cry with one sentiment, a warm gaze or just a smile.
V-squared can also be described as two sides of the same coin. V says one thing and Q says another. No one is wrong -- they just usually offer two distinct viewpoints. For me, it's not all that surprising. I tend to think like them, so when they offer advice, it's like listening to myself weigh both sides of the argument. It's hearing my own conscience telling me I should, but then I shouldn't...
They are my collective voice of reason. More often than not, they are life coaches who dish wisdom, spot-on advice and raw honesty. They keep me sane when I feel like giving in or giving up. They remind me (without fail) that I'm special and to believe in myself. They don't tell me what I want to hear, but rather what I need to hear. They invited me to play Miranda. They appreciate and commend my sarcasm. They minted the loin cloth and "sweat be gone" jokes.
They're my dynamic duo.
I didn't have the pleasure of knowing them back then, but I'm honored to know the dynamic duo today. They're both strong, smart, savvy women who know what they want and never hesitate to go after it. They're gutsy, shameless and spontaneous. They have the ability to make me laugh and cry with one sentiment, a warm gaze or just a smile.
V-squared can also be described as two sides of the same coin. V says one thing and Q says another. No one is wrong -- they just usually offer two distinct viewpoints. For me, it's not all that surprising. I tend to think like them, so when they offer advice, it's like listening to myself weigh both sides of the argument. It's hearing my own conscience telling me I should, but then I shouldn't...
They are my collective voice of reason. More often than not, they are life coaches who dish wisdom, spot-on advice and raw honesty. They keep me sane when I feel like giving in or giving up. They remind me (without fail) that I'm special and to believe in myself. They don't tell me what I want to hear, but rather what I need to hear. They invited me to play Miranda. They appreciate and commend my sarcasm. They minted the loin cloth and "sweat be gone" jokes.
They're my dynamic duo.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Mrs. Julia Chin
Ever since we met in kindergarten, Joo Yong has been a best friend and sister to me, and someone I will know and cherish for all my life. She's someone who gives with her entire heart, always sees the best in people and cares deeply for those around her. We often joke that even from our rocking chairs - 50 years from now - we'll still be laughing and talking for hours like things have never changed, and with Joo Yong, I know it's true because that's the kind of special person she is. Today is somewhat bittersweet for me, not because I'm letting go of that image of us 50 years from now, but because I'm officially seeing my best friend off tonight to begin a new journey and chapter of life. It's certainly not an easy thing to do, but I'm reassured because I know I'm leaving her in good hands with Ronald - someone who truly gets her, makes her smile on the inside and out, and I know, will cherish her for all his life.
6.22.08
6.22.08
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
On Subtraction
11,923 is the estimated number of random strangers I've "bumped into" over the last year.
5,091 is the number of MP3's I stash on my hard drive.
3,200 is the number of stickers I owned and collected in early grade school.
400 is the number of CDs I own.
300 is the number of books I own.
165 is the number of human pounds I've physically lifted off the ground.
67 is the number of vertical inches I command.
49 is the number of poems I've written.
38 is the number of shoes I keep in rotation (more or less).
24 is the number of years I've known my oldest and dearest friend.
13 is the number of journals I've kept over the years.
10 is the number of countries I've visited in my quest to see the world.
9 is the number of foods I'm allergic to (and of course, enjoy eating).
8 is the number of times I've been to a house of faith.
8 is also the greatest number of inches of hair I've ever cut at once.
7 is my chosen lucky number.
6 is the number of jobs I've had since graduating college.
3 is the number of wisdom teeth I still have (but not for long).
2 is the number of siblings I have (yay for the middle child).
1 2 is the number of boys I've honestly loved.
1 is also the number of times I've ever been seriously injured.
0 is the number of times I'm willing to compromise my beliefs.
5,091 is the number of MP3's I stash on my hard drive.
3,200 is the number of stickers I owned and collected in early grade school.
400 is the number of CDs I own.
300 is the number of books I own.
165 is the number of human pounds I've physically lifted off the ground.
67 is the number of vertical inches I command.
49 is the number of poems I've written.
38 is the number of shoes I keep in rotation (more or less).
24 is the number of years I've known my oldest and dearest friend.
13 is the number of journals I've kept over the years.
10 is the number of countries I've visited in my quest to see the world.
9 is the number of foods I'm allergic to (and of course, enjoy eating).
8 is the number of times I've been to a house of faith.
8 is also the greatest number of inches of hair I've ever cut at once.
7 is my chosen lucky number.
6 is the number of jobs I've had since graduating college.
3 is the number of wisdom teeth I still have (but not for long).
2 is the number of siblings I have (yay for the middle child).
1 is also the number of times I've ever been seriously injured.
0 is the number of times I'm willing to compromise my beliefs.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
On Hope
Her world came crashing down in that moment of discovery. Fourteen years whittled down to five months of ignorance and agony. When the truth broke, her faith was broken too. Things fall apart. People fall apart. But I worried - how would she move beyond the pain and deception to gather herself and become whole again? It seemed her only misdeed was perhaps trusting too much and loving with her whole heart. He broke her faith in love, truth and kindness. It seemed that nothing was truly sacred. If fourteen years together didn't equate to trust, surely it would take her that much longer to regain trust in goodness. In people. In listening to her instincts. In following her heart.
A year has now passed since that devastating day. It was a terrible lesson for her to learn about love and self. It was also her greatest lesson in loss. But somehow, she steadied herself in time and began the recovery process. She opened herself up to possibilities and little by little, began to imagine Happiness. In the process, she is redefining what happiness is for her and finding her way back to Faith. She is learning to trust again and embracing the idea of Love, which is slowly revealing itself again in the familiar and the new.
She is what I think of when I imagine goodness. She has shown me that life doesn't pause despite the most piercing circumstances. She has taught me that when things falls apart, a new will can be built in its place and it can be stronger than we ever imagined. In her unknowing example, she has taught me the greatest lesson in Hope.
A year has now passed since that devastating day. It was a terrible lesson for her to learn about love and self. It was also her greatest lesson in loss. But somehow, she steadied herself in time and began the recovery process. She opened herself up to possibilities and little by little, began to imagine Happiness. In the process, she is redefining what happiness is for her and finding her way back to Faith. She is learning to trust again and embracing the idea of Love, which is slowly revealing itself again in the familiar and the new.
She is what I think of when I imagine goodness. She has shown me that life doesn't pause despite the most piercing circumstances. She has taught me that when things falls apart, a new will can be built in its place and it can be stronger than we ever imagined. In her unknowing example, she has taught me the greatest lesson in Hope.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)