Another December morning. It is as dark as can be at 7:42. We are heading head long towards the darkest day of the year. 11 more days and we will come out on the other side. It is my best fall and December wherein I am not blaming the season for my moody blues. I have talked about how my feelings can turn on a dime. It is still true but now I can turn it around just as quickly. I have a self control button as well as auto pilot. I should have check my operation manual sooner. It is nice to know I have a choice of how I want to feel and be.

Mornings are my best time for everything. I always look forward to waking up and starting the day. It’s when I am fresh with a clean slate. No hangovers of toxic emotions and attitudes to weigh me down. I guess that’s why they advocate not watching the news or argue before bedtime. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve gone to bed upset. I am doing something right. Too bad one can’t keep the lid on 24/7. But life and humans are not perfect. I don’t think we can learn and advance if there are no bleeps along the way. I am grateful for each and everyone of them for what they have taught me.

I don’t like to admit it. I do tend to look at things in black and white, right and wrong, yes and no. I didn’t realized it until yesterday. How dumb can I be? I was stuck in a certain mindset. It was only by accident that I skidded out of the track. It was that light bulb moment that I could see there was a middle way. There’s much truth in age old sayings like: There’s more than one way of skinning a cat. All roads lead to Rome. More than one way to cook an egg. I was really surprised by my awakening. I didn’t know I had a hard set mind. I was not as opened minded as I had thought. Life would have been much easier had I known sooner. It is what it is. I wasn’t ready. I am happy to learn that there is grey, somethings are neither right or wrong and that there is a maybe of different strengths.


Egad, it is 11:21 already! The morning flew away on me. Too much wondering and fretting about this and that. I wasn’t going to do that anymore, right? Things are not as easy as you think. People are not who you think they are. It’s ok. I’m just muttering, my preamble into the words. I don’t mean any of it. I am happy to be here. In My Writing Space, I am the star. No one interrupts me. No one contradicts me. I like it.

I think I’ve lost my writing mojo. I feel staid, stale to be exact. I’ve lost my fire, my disagreeable self, the wringing of hands and heart. I try to be careful not to step on toes, doing and saying the proper things. Because life gets tiresome trying to be just yourself, it is easier to be agreeable or silent. Maybe there’s no more words to be said. I’ve been listening to Dr. Phil’s rant too much. ‘Do you want to be happy or do you want to be right?’ I want both.

I know this interlude won’t last forever. I’m sure I will return to ranting soon. I am who I am. I might as well enjoy my peace and get a few things done. Enjoy and live every moment! I hate mottos, don’t you? See! My sarcasm has returned. We can’t help being who we are. I do try. It’s another reason I come here to tap. I try to tap out my bad thoughts, emotions. I put them on the page so I can examine them, turn them inside out, upside down, backwards and frontward. Are they true or are they just about me? Will they help or hurt me? Will they hurt another? These are the questions I ask before I hit the PUBLISH button. I know. I think and worry too much.

In essence, I am not really brave as some people have told me. I am being me, yes, but I try to make sure it is all about me and not about others. I have slipped from time to time. What can I do? I am human. I err. While I am a very honest and open person, I do know about discretion. I don’t air dirty laundry, mine or others. Sometimes I am too honest, blurting out truths. You know how that happens. It wouldn’t hurt to hold back by being silent. Mum is a good word.

Day 3

George Washington might have fessed up about the cherry tree but I wonder what Martha would have to say about him. Honest Abe was known for his honesty, but had he been totally truthful? He was a politician after all. Things are never black and white. That’s what they tell me. I see my truths in startling stark black and white. I’m trying to learn about the 50 shades of grey. That’s why I paint. I’m exploring the many shades of being artistic. I think I am making some progress. Do you think I have some potential?



Sometimes I am immobilized by those ‘light bulb moments’, when I see the truth staring at me in glaring black and white.  You know those Kodak moments, don’t you?  I am blessed/cursed with them at the same time.  I do not want to see the raw naked truth.  I rather not be in the know.  And that is the honest truth.  Is there any other kind?

photoI am a bit melancholy with a bit of wine and the truth.  Life looks better through rose-tinted glasses or in the dark sometimes.  I am talking through my yin yang, of course.  You would have to take what I say with a grain of salt.  Do you know that I knew time before electricity?  Yes, that is correct.

I saw my first electric light bulb when I was six.  My mother and I were overnighting in a hotel in Canton, en route to Hong Kong.  I had fallen asleep early in the evening.  When my mother shook me at dawn, I opened my eyes to a bright light dangling from the ceiling.  It was truly an Oprah light bulb moment

Do you know that I see ghosts, too, that is, when I was a child.  I no longer see them now that I am all grown up.  But I feel them still.  They are my friends, my angels.  I have learned to trust them, that they are here to look out for me.

Our HouseI remembered seeing them when I was playing on our rooftop in China.  I saw them standing beside my bed at night before I went to sleep.  I asked my mother, Who are all the people?  My mother saw that there was no one there.   She said, “They’re our ancestors.  Do not be afraid.”

I wasn’t afraid until I grew up.  Then I started to cross my slippers by my bedside.  One of my friends told me that would keep them away.  And it worked!  They visited me only on those nights I forgot to cross my slippers.

They do not visit me any more in the same way.  I sense them when I am quiet and still.  They let me know their presence when I am in need.  I am no longer afraid as an adult.  I am truly grown up.

It is now almost the bewitching hour.  Time to stop babbling about light bulbs, ghosts and such.  It is time to put the memories away and get ready for sleep and sweet dreams.