Finding Peace, Moving on

It’s difficult to come to the keyboard in the morning. I have to make the best of it and settled for afternoons and evenings. There’s much garden work and the best time is mornings when it is still cool and I’m fresh. I’m into the rhythm of it now. I’m sufficiently recovered from losing my mother and my hearing almost at the same time. I do not like to talk much about either experience. I’m superstitious. I don’t want to jinx myself. I’ve recovered a good part of my hearing. I am highly functioning again. I’ve regained most of my self confidence though feeling life is very vulnerable.

I would say that this past year is a most pivotal year. I am woke, seeing and hearing the world and life through a different lens and ear. It might be paradoxical, but I have been both traumatized and gratified by my experiences. I am reconciled to my new realities. The fog has lifted. I am strong again. I am at peace and moving on with living. I find myself enjoying again working in the garden and greenhouse. The empty spaces meant for bitter melons are not seen as failures but spaces for new possibilities of parsley, more cucumbers and lettuce. Yes, maybe, just maybe it is still possible for bitter melons. I stuck in 3 bitter melon seeds. If I don’t, there definitely will not be any.

There was no smoke for this 17th day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. We had sunshine. I was off early in the morning to the community garden to harvest and water. Now in late afternoon, we are having rain. It’s good for the garden. It is good for me. I don’t have to water the home garden. Yay!

O HOLY NIGHT

I feel guilty sitting here, tap tap tapping on this 24th day of December – Christmas Eve. By all accounts aren’t I suppose to be busy cooking up a storm, celebrating and partying? At the same time, aren’t we supposed to observe the reverence of Jesus’ birth? To confuse the issue more for myself, I am Chinese. I was not born a Christian but to a culture of ancestor worship. Sometime and somewhere in my life, I saw Jesus on the cross. I followed that vision and was baptised in the Catholic Church. But I heard Buddha calling me also. I listened and liked what I heard.

I am confused but I don’t feel too bad about it. I’ve been listening to too many voices. I heard all their sayings and beliefs. Now, I know the best voice is my own. I’ve bathed in too many’s experiences and feelings. They are not my own. It’s time to shed them. Time to step into my own waters, my experiences and feelings. It is time to don my fineries and see how they fit. Will they wear well?

O Holy Night has been my favourite Christmas Carol since I was a little immigrant girl in Maidstone. It was before I was Catholic. I heard it sung by Susan, an older neighbour girl. She lived in the railroad station house across the highway from us. I thought her voice was heavenly. It was so pure and clear like that night. It is still my favourite. I love the beauty of the music and the lyrics. Whether or not I believe, it does not matter. How I celebrate or not does not matter as long as I am true to myself, as long as I am enjoying what I am doing and not hurting another.