Tag Archives: life

ON REACHING A HUNDRED

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I have reached a hundred the other day, a hundred posts that is!  It is a big success for me.  I have to reward myself and pat myself on the back.

I am tap, tapping at my keyboard.  I love the rhythm of my fingers on the keys.  I love the words that come out.  I am writing because I love the beauty of words and ideas that flow from my finger tips.  I don’t know from where they come but I welcome them.

If perchance you read some of my words, do not stress or worry if I sound melancholy or in trouble.  My work environment can be very toxic and sometimes I can’t help but take some of the fumes in.  And life can be ever so taxing.  Tapping out words is my way of breathing and releasing the poison out.  It is how I heal myself so that I can work and live again.

Words are my best friend.  They hold me close with their warmth.  They help me see with their clarity and they calm me down with their truth. I honour them by putting them in print.  I do hope that you will stop by often and read them.  I love sharing what I have learned by putting words and pictures together.

ON LEOPARDS, ZEBRAS AND ME

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Okay people, I think I’m back to normal – my normal that is.  But that is all that counts, isn’t it?

For a couple of days, I had lost my balance, my center….my zen.  I was back to the old self of trying to figure people out, wondering why they are the way they are, wanting them to change – for me, bashing my head against a concrete wall.  I was judging, criticizing, non-accepting.  I kept up a litany of :  If only leopards could change their spots and zebras could change their stripes.  Oh, what a bore I was until I saw that it was I who need to change my spots and stripes.

I haven’t figured out the how’s yet but seeing my error is a big bing, bing, bing.  I am sure that Oprah would approve.  Do you know that she is coming to Saskatoon on Sunday and that she is sold out and they had to add 400 extra seats?  That is what I heard anyways.  I am surprised that I have no desire to go, being a huge fan of hers for many years.

I think I have finally grown up.  I do not need heroes any more.  I have decided to be my own hero and listen to the whispers of my own heart.  I am getting to know who I am.  I am okay.  I know what to do.  The world is a good place.  The leopards can keep their spots.  Zebras have stripes and I am okay with all that.  Peace and love.

ON THE COUCH

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So it is Saturday morning.  It is the morning after the morning after.  I wake with no boundless joy.  It is perhaps the after taste of my night shifts and last night’s wine.  And yes, the weather is __ !  Let it snow. Let it snow.  Sometimes life feels nauseating.

But I know that these are just the physical symptoms, my body’s reactions to the environment, both the physical and psychological.  And it is a good thing.  It is an alert for me to waken up, to pay attention, and to restore my homeostasis.

I spent a great part of yesterday on my couch, interrupted by one medium walk with Sheba.  No amount of will power nor self pep talk could budge my body.  After all these years, I’ve learned to listen to my body.  I was glad that I had swept the water from the garage and cleaned the yard the day before.  I had heard my little inner voice telling me that the sun is out and you can move today.  Tomorrow might be a different thing.

My body is a pretty accurate barometer,  for it did snow…pretty soft flakes the morning long.  It is really not what most of us want…more snow.  But…we do live in Canada and there is nothing we can do to stop the snow when it comes.  And that is the truth.  It does legitimize being a sloth and I took advantage.  Tomorrow is another day.

Today is yesterday’s tomorrow.  I do not feel like tap dancing.  It is not my nature but I am up and dressed.  I am tap, tapping away on my keyboard.  I am drawn not so much as to how much I can ‘accomplished’ but to how aware and conscious I am.   It is cloudy again but they say under every cloud, there’s a silver lining.  It is for me to decide what that is.

AS IF

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I woke up this morning with a sense of ‘wishy washy’, not wanting to get out of bed.  Somehow my body knew that the day was overcast and cloudy…not inviting at all.  I was not filled with vim but maybe vinegar.

But at least I was not filled with dread, a sense of impending doom.  My heart was not in my mouth.  My heart was not anywhere. But I got out of bed anyways, washed my face, brushed my teeth, made my tea….the whole morning thing.  I read another part of Susan Cain’s book, Quiet, the Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking.

The book is helping me to understand my ‘eccentricity’, my quirks, my not enjoying having fun.  Is that a contradictory phrase?  I am understanding myself as an introvert and my Chinese-ness.  We have a propensity for thoughtfulness, study, the quiet….like Confucius and Lao Tzu.  So what chance do I really have of being a gregarious Chinese cheerleader?

At long last, I’m beginning to accept myself as I am.  This morning I tell myself it is okay that I don’t feel overwhelming joy.  I don’t have to cheer, ZIP, BOOM, BAM, HURRAH!  I can just mosey along at my snail’s pace.  I’ve just cracked my first smile of the day.

Routine and good habits are wonderful.  They can save your day and life when you can’t.  Though I feel slow as a turtle and ugly as a frog, I’m moving right along.  In my head I’m moving as if I have the speed and ease of a gazelle and the grace and beauty of fairy princess.  I can enjoy life as a quiet feast.  And we, the Chinese certainly enjoy feasting.

Breakfast and dishes are done and put away.  Sheba and I have tripped the light fantastic around the neighbourhood.  The sun is out.  It is as if the clouds never were.

PROGRESS

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I think I have had too many glasses of wine.  I am not feeling myself on this 43rd day into Lent.  I am feeling rather angry, ticked off.

Making progress in becoming enlightened is a hard task.  I am no Buddha but I do try hard.  I have no Bodhi  tree to sit under.  But I do have a snow pile to clear.  I am learning to use my bad energy to do good things.  Today I have cleared a wide path all the way in front of the house.  Now, there’s less worry about melting snow doing damage to the foundation.

I have not lost any of my excess weight yet, though I have stepped on the scale a few times. Getting slimmer is not easy or simple.  I am walking Sheba twice a day.  I am not really thrilled about it, but I do it anyways.  As soon as we start out, I want to come back and hit the couch already.  I talk myself into one block, then another block, and another. I have to train myself into liking something.  I have to train myself into good habits.

I threw out my drawer full of  old ugly, utilitarian bras today….finally.  Funny how that is.  Even though I’ve brought 4 nice new ones and 6 really pretty vibrant camisoles, it was still difficult to toss those ugly old bras.  Attachment?  What was I attached to – things of no use and no longer desirable.  So what other undesirables  are still lurking in my drawers and closet?  What yukkies are hidden in my head?

Well, it is getting late.  I am scare of the dark.  I am scare of my shadow.  Best wait for sunlight before digging further.  I might have to stick with digging snow for awhile till I am stronger.  And I will – get stronger.  I trust the God in me.

PALM SUNDAY

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Today is March 24th, Palm Sunday, the day of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem.

I am out early with Sheba for our walk.    The world is amazingly bright and warm, the snow reflecting the sun’s light and warmth.  It is a winter wonderland.  I try to reflect back God’s goodness.  It is not a difficult task in the morning hours of the day.  Not too many souls out and about, giving off bad vibes.

So I saunter along with Sheba, exploring God’s kingdom.  I allow Sheba to sniff here and there, scratching through the snow.  She rolls in the snow to her heart’s content.  After all, it is Sunday and every dog needs her day, too.

It is good to relax, not to be so hard on myself.  I once try to live my life according to a formula and discovered that it just didn’t work…no matter how hard I tried, even when I put the square pegs into the square holes and the round ones into round holes.  Someone dare to throw in pegs of a different shape.  I think that must have been God.

I reckon that there must be reasons for life being not perfect, not according to a formula.  I am learning to look at things from both sides, up and down and all around.  There is relief in being flawed, in being human.  There is always something to strive for, something to work towards.  Is that what they call life purpose?

MIRACLES

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It is March 22, 38 days into Lent.  My days in the desert are coming to an end.  What better time to talk about miracles than in these last days?

Did I ever tell you that I saw Jesus on the cross?  It was in my mind’s eye that I saw him.  I felt his ever loving arms surround me.  I felt his radiance.  I felt his warmth.  And I felt lost never more…me,  the ever lost shepherd.

I had lost the gift of my third eye for awhile.  I became lost again for awhile.  But in these days of Lent, I have found it again.  I breathed through my center, relaxing and letting everything go.  I found myself part of the cosmos.  I found the God in me.  I found my own divinity.

The world is with me.  The world is in me.  I have lost my stubbornness, my Chinese stiff neck.  I can see in all directions now.  I can see from both sides, from up and down – as Joni Mitchell would sing.  And yet I still don’t know life at all.  It is still a mystery, but I am open to all its miracles.

I do not have to know all the answers.  They will reveal themselves one by one.  I do not have to be perfect.  I can make mistakes.  Life is fluid.  Nothing stays the same. The universe is forever shifting, like the desert sand.

PRACTISING THE IMPERFECT

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It is the 20th of March and 36 days into Lent.  It is another day.  I am trying to find my zen.  I am tired from a rem-less sleep.  It is where I am, heavy and loaded down.  This is where I will start.

The fact is, we are down to one loaf of bread and there are no makings for sandwiches for lunch.  The utensils, flour, yeast come out.  And while the dough is rising, I steal one of Sheba’s bones for making soup.  The pot goes on the stove, the bone and water goes on to boil.  In the meantime, I find, wash and chop the vegetables.  The bone comes out, the vegetables go in.

The dough is ready.  I punch it down and divide into three loaves to rise again.  The soup bone is cooled, so out the door it goes with Sheba.  She is out of my hair, gnawing happily for some minutes.  I have some free time to relax with my second cup of tea.  I have an urge to make biscuits to go with the soup but axed it along with the urge to vacuum.  Better to just chill.

The timer is beeping that the loaves are ready for the oven.  I will put them in and then enjoy the warmth and brightness of the sun.  I will catnap with Sheba while the bread bake.  This imperfect life is just purrr-fect.

AUNTIE, MAMA AND ME

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So we are 30 days into Lent.  We have a new pope.  Do we have new hope?  I guess where there is life, there’s hope.

I learned today that my aunt, my ah yee had passed away a few days ago.  She died at home amid her family in New York City.  She was 93, a good age.  Even so, she will be greatly missed.

My ah yee lived with us for awhile when we were in Hong Kong.   She came to keep my mother, my sister and me company.  My sister was only a baby then.  She’s called Me Jing in Chinese, Me for short.  My father, grandmother and uncles had left for Canada and we were alone.  It was good Ah Yee came to be with us.  She was good company and helped with household chores and taking care of my sister.

Ah Yee lived with us till my father was able to send for us.  Sometimes she went back to spend time with her parents (my other grandparents) and her children.  During those times her oldest daughter would come and stay with us.  I liked that very much, too.  I was the only child for eight years and it was such luxury to have an older sister/cousin.  It felt akin to New Year’s Eve sleepovers.

I think our time together in Hong Kong was almost a year.  And what a wonderful year, thinking back.  There was such a feeling of warmth, caring and security in our house of women and children.  My sister was an early talker and talk and sing she did.  Her world was consisted of three people and she frequently sang:  Ah Yee, Mama, and Me over and over.

SLEEPLESS IN THE DESERT

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We are 23 days into Lent.

I spent the night sleepless wandering in the desert.  Needless to say, I had no dreams nor visions.  Moses did not speak to me from the mountain.  No one came to lead me out, not even God.  The desert was very dry, no oasis in sight.

I did not panic.  I journeyed from where I was, the best that I could.  I remembered long time ago a classmate, new to the city, was crossing the street.  Half way across, the DON’T WALK sign came on.  She turned back, waited for the WALK sign and started again.  Guess what?  The same thing happened!  We laughed about it but it was a huge lesson for me, though it took some time for me to realize it.

We cannot always start afresh.  It is not always a good thing.  We have to start from where we are now, scarred, with heavy baggage and all.  And so, I did not fight my sleeplessness.  I try to use the time to put a few things in order, to look at things differently.   Then I just lay down, close my eyes.  I let everything be.

I did the best I could.  I put my hand over my heart and felt comforted.