How To Get My Shit Together

Posted on March 3, 2026 by hafong

I keep saying that I have to get my shit together. So far it hasn’t happened yet. So far I haven’t figured out how. At least I am feeling a little better. My cough is not as hard and harsh. My stomach and chest are sore. My shoulders stiff from hunching and holding them close. Sometimes I feel as if I’m going to cough up my liver. I’ve been drinking and drinking gallons of fluids and making a million trips to the bathroom. Such fun, eh?

Hopefully I am on the road to recovery. I was able to lie down and had a decent night of sleep. I’m having my second cup of tea and trying to tap out how to get my shit together. First, I think I have to curb scrolling and scrolling through news from south of the border. It’s not good for my mental health. But I do like reading Heather Delaney Reese’s and Heather Cox Richardson’s posts on the U. S. political scene. It’s good to stay informed. But I also need to disconnect and move on with my day and life. That’s the hard part.

I’m taking little stabs and short runs at it. Yesterday I finally did seed my peppers. They take a long time to germinate and need a long growing season. Maybe today I can seed a few eggplants. I haven’t been successful with them. I did learn they are heavy feeders and need lots of pruning. So maybe this is the year. My sunroom is a holy cluttered mess. I have to clear some surfaces to put the plant trays. I had never thought I could be this bad. But then I never counted on my mother dying either even thought she was in her nineties. How silly could I be?

Now I feel the harshness and difficulties of the past year. I was perhaps operating on numb. I just had to. Life goes on. I like to think this part is my healing journey. Now I know everyone goes through this. It is hard but also necessary. I like to think of it as Joan Dideon’s The Year of Magical Thinking. I should read this book and Blue Nights. They are hard reads. I will try.

Where would I be?

Posted on March 2, 2026 by hafong

I’m sicker today. It makes me mad with this hacking and hacking and the cough won’t turn over. Sometimes I feel like something is going to blow. Needless to say, I didn’t have a good night’s sleep. I’ve had to cancel two lunch dates now. I’m trying to make myself more comfortable but there just isn’t any way. I’m entitled to feel a little ticked off. The truth is I am alot ticked off. It doesn’t help that I’m reading all the stuff that is going on south of the border. Does that border really separate and keep us safe? Aren’t we already pretty well assimilated into the American ways?

The thought that we are makes me feel worse. Assimilated feels like being sucked in. We have no personality of our own. We watch American movies. We shop at Walmart. A lot of our businesses are American owned. Trump calls us the 51st state. I’m feeling worse. Sometimes I feel the same, no personality and sucked in. But is that true? I have to ask the Byron Katie questions. And where would I be if it wasn’t true? I think I would be in a happier place.

Tapping and getting it all out feels good. I hope I can get a good sleep tonight. Sleep can make such a difference. It can take the edge off my sour disposition. Maybe now I can coax myself into seeding a few peppers and maybe sew half a quilt block. How is your day?

Working on Joy and Hope

Posted on March 1, 2026 by hafong

It’s March 1, a new month and a new day, so they say. I woke up to the same world, full of bad news of Donald Trump and bombing in the Middle East. No overnight transformation of world peace and love. Whatever happened to the age of Aquarius? Where is the humanitarism and collective consciousness? Where has our conscience gone?

As you can see, I still am sick of this world. I am still a bit sick with my cold. It could be affecting my outlook. It doesn’t help that my iMac is not performing at its best. I am still working on improving my mood, trying to find some positivity and joy. I don’t want to add my negativity to the already existing toxic pool. This morning I found 2 inspiring stories. I should say they found me. I had not known or heard of these individuals before.

The first one was Margaret Anne Cargill. She was an heir to millions. Yet she lived a simple life and donated everything to charities anonymously. The 2nd person was Hamzah Jihad Furquani. He made 13 cents an hour as a prison janitor. He donated $17.74 of his earnings to relief efforts in Gaza. Their backgrounds were totally different but their hearts were the same, big and generous. Their stories are fascinating reads for me. They are real and not fake news. It gives me hope and inspiration in these dark times. I try a little harder to find and feel joy. I try a little harder to have a good day. The world is still full of good people. But we still need to acknowledge the evil, too.

I’m 8 days into the #100dayproject of sewing logcabin quilt blocks. My pace is slower, making a ½ block a day. The slower pace is more enjoyable. Here’s square #3 and #4.

Let Go a little, Live a Little

Posted on February 28, 2026 by hafong

Some days I am just sick of everything. Today is one of those days. I am sick to death of the Epstein files, Deepak Chopra and Donald Trump. I am also sick of myself for not being able to resist on clicking on those links. I’m so disappointed that we are all such flawed human beings.

That was yesterday. Today I am really sick with scratchy throat and coughing. I am not feeling bad yet. Here’s the hope that it will pass quickly with endless cups of chrysanthemum tea, lozenges and tylenol. I am trying to improve my mental outlook, too. I can’t heal feeling pissed about everything. So, I’m pulling up my socks and cleansing my thoughts. But first I have to say this. I really do not like all those feel good ‘gurus’ who are suppose to inspire us. I can’t believe that I was such a huge fan of Oprah back in the good old days. Now I can’t stand the sight of her and her gushy gushy ways. She was more real when she was fat.

I’m trying to rescue myself from the misery I find myself in today. I no longer believe or trust anyone else with my own well-being. We are all capable of deceiving ourselves and others for whatever and any reasons. I’m disappointed in learning this at this late stage in life. But it’s better late than never. I’m having another cup of chrysanthemum tea while the roomba robot vacuum is sweeping the kitchen floor. It’ll be nice to walk on a smooth instead of a gritty floor. Physical comfort is conducive to well-being.

I will not attempt any heroic measures in self-improvement today. I will try to accept myself as I am. Maybe that in itself is a heroic act. I am into #the100project today. My plan was to sew a logcabin quilt block a day. I’ve only done 3 ½ blocks so far. I take challenges seriously. This definitely is not up to my standard. Maybe it’s time and good that I lower my standards a little. Let go and live a little would make a good motto. I’ve proven I can live up to challenges for many years now. Last year I drew and painted 100 teacups, the year before I did 100 sketches from our family album. I’ve proven my mettle. I don’t need to do it anymore.

Teacups and Blocks

Posted on February 24, 2026 by hafong

It’s day 3 of #The100DayProject. I can’t remember how many years I’ve been doing this. Last year, I drew and painted a teacup a day. It was quite challenging to come up with a different one each day. After all, a cup is a cup. I had to whack my brain and creative juice to come up with one daily. Here’s a few of them.

My project this year is make a logcabin square a day using some of my mother’s blouses. She passed away in October, 2024. I still have alot of her clothes. The squares are for a quilt for my sister. So far I have I have made one and a half squares. I’m finding that cutting up my mother’s clothes is no easy task. There’s all these feelings arising as I handle each one. I will poke along as I am able and try to sort, make use, keep or give away the items. Here’s the square(s) so far.

100 Days of Frustrations or Squares?

Posted on February 22, 2026 by hafong

Today is the first day of the #100dayproject. This year I am making another logcabin quilt for my sister. I will make a square/day for the next 100 days. Yesterday I spent time to clean and oil my Bernina 790 sewing machine. I need to prime and oil myself as well. I have almost one square done, but I am frustrated, hair standing on end. I haven’t organized or prepared my material. My work space is one big sunspeakable mess. I had to run and escape from all that.

I’m feeling stuck in emotional frustration as well as in physical chaos. What is wrong with me? No one is answering, offering any answers or advice. I must work through this all by my lonesome. It’s a forlorn journey. I think this is why when someone asks me for help, I am more than happy to lend a helping hand or a voice. Not having boundaries, I go way overboard. I would be the lifeguard who rescues someone drowning and takes him home with me instead of leaving him at the pool. It is too much. In due course I would get angry and lose my cool and things blow up and get messy.

Because I can’t say no and hurt people’s feelings, I end up doing that very thing. I hurt their feelings. Then I wonder what the hell happened? There, I’ve said it. I see it. I feel less frustrated and stuck. Maybe I can pitter, patter down to my chaotic sewing room, sort and organize and finish my one logcabin square. Wish me luck.

Crowbars and Sledgehammers

Posted on February 21, 2026 by hafong

I’ve been wrestling with my sewing machine for most of this cold morning. I’ve been wrestling with my soul along with my Bernina. I have such a huge guilt complex. I feel I have no sense of discernment. I lack social and relationship skills. I still feel that everything is my fault. It is hard to get a good night’s sleep or a peaceful morning. I should really learn to put up boundaries and a stopwatch on how long to ruminate. This is sapping the life out of me.

Still, I can look at these moments of worrying and fretting as tools of transformation. If everything was smooth as ice, I could just glide along without care. There would be no need for thought or self examination. These prolonged periods of suffering are hammering in the fact that I have to change. I am a slow learner. Pain is a powerful crowbar to open me up, to see what makes me to tick and what needs fixing.

I have fixed my sewing machine problem. I’ve watched numerous YouTube videos on how to unstick a stuck bobbin. I spent an hour and none of them worked. In desperation, I stuck my little screwdriver along the inside edge of the bobbin case instead of the little hole in the back. Lo and behold, it worked! Nevertheless, Bernina Jeff makes very good videos. I wonder where is a good place to crowbar me.

Que Sera Sera

Posted on February 20, 2026 by hafong

Another sunny cold day in my desert. I am slow at the gate, not getting anywhere fast today. I have to be content with stuttering on the keyboard and sipping my cup of instant coffee. Life is hard. People are difficult to understand. I shall not hurt my brain trying to figure them out. Que sera sera. Whatever will be will be. I will have to let whatever will be, will be. I am not God. I am in search of Him.

He is elusive today. I will have to muddle along among the cacti and sand dunes by myself as well as I can. It is good not to be bothered by the noises and confusion of the outside world. I have to learn to let go of things I cannot change. Not everything and everybody can be saved. I can’t hold on with all my might to everything and everyone. I can’t stop the train thundering down the track. It surely will kill me if I try. It is time to let it go on without me.

In The Desert

Posted on February 19, 2026 by hafong

It is cold in my desert this morning, -28℃. The sun is shining bright. It feels right, almost normal. Even in the desert, it is hard to keep out the noise and the chatter. The Prince has fallen off his horse. There are no knights in shining armour. There are no gurus to lead us out of temptation and evil. We have to rescue ourselves. I’m here in the desert, listening to and for my own wisdom.

We all have it, our own inner wisdom. I have it but I often doubt myself, trusting in the words and teaching of others. It’s not that I have been misled down the wrong garden path. It’s that I’ve always thought that I am wrong and in the wrong. It’s always my fault for whatever. I have been a martyr but I no longer want to be one. It’s a step in recognition. It’ll be another to follow through.

Stepping into the desert has given me the energy I long for. It’s wonderful to feel alive, not moping, not feeling hopelessly lost in inertia. I have finally seeded some onions, shallots, leeks and celery. This morning I practiced my qigong routines. I was surprised it was a bit challenging. I was tired at the end. Now I am in the process of clearing and cleaning the house to welcome in the new year. Cleaning house reminds me of Rumi’s poem, The Guest House.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

40 Days, 40 Nights

Posted on February 18, 2026 by hafong

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. I haven’t observe Lent for quite awhile now. Yesterday I was hit by a desire to go into the desert and see if I could find Jesus again. Lo and behold, I find that Lent starts today. I am not sure how I am going to spend the next 40 days and 40 nights. I have my own beliefs of the holy. I have my own way of prayers. All I know is that I have not felt the holy, the awe for such a long time. I miss it and feel lonely without it.

The world is such a strange place to me now. So much evil have come to light. We knew of them deep in our hearts before. It was easy, comfortable and safe not to acknowledge them. Now, there’s nowhere to hide. They are so awful I want to vomit. I want to shout and wail, How could they? Why? All that for power, money and sex? All that for ego? Who are we, these creatures that hurt and kill each other and ourselves?

I hope to find some peace and answers in the quiet of the desert. If not Jesus, maybe I will find my mother and my ancestors who can help me find some comfort. It’s come to me that I can spend these days cleaning within and without. It is said that cleanliness is next to holiness. I believe it. I have so much to tend to in these 40 days and nights.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity