From Ashes..

It has been so long since i put my thoughts down…. So much has happened, and i don’t even know where to start. A couple of weeks ago, i had a conversation with an old friend. As i was on my way back from work, she crossed my mind and so i decided to call her. After spending almost an hour getting caught up on life, I remembered how much i missed her. I remember when we would hang out, taking long drives out-of-town, how we would talk on the phone for hours, how we would spend time together–just being Free. And then it dawned on me…I really miss her.

You see, marriage and motherhood has a way of making you choose between what you would like to do vs what you must do. It has a way of showing you another side of life that draws you away from “you” and focus on others, who bring so much more into your life. Not that my friends and previous lifestyle didn’t bring me much, but, i mean this my saying that my husband and my sweet baby girl are my LIFE today.

I told my friend this, and she too, also agrees that i am experiencing one of the most beautiful experiences of my life right now, and nobody has a right to take that feeling away from me or even distract me from it. She understands that, one day, she will also get to enjoy and experience this blessing which she can almost imagine today. Her words have always been true and comforting. I know her and she knows me. She knows that life has its own way of turning things around from one thing to the other.

Although i miss her, i can also look at my life today and see how far i have come. Not just from a girl who once thought “nothing” would ever come between her and her life. But today, i can see this woman who looks at herself in the mirror every morning and says “yes, you’ve really come this far. Now, go ACHIEVE MORE!”.

I am grateful, i am content, though it hasn’t always been an easy road, but i can honestly say, i wouldn’t have it no other way!

A Love Like Air: The Perfect definition

A Love Like Air: The Perfect definition.

The wrong one

The wrong kind of love

We’ve all been there. At least some of us. That one relationship that left us scarred for life, leaving us in a state of conflicting distrust—a definite, that we may never easily trust again. So what’s in it for us? We may ask ourselves when found in a situation where we are prompted to even as little as try to trust again. We make known the hidden uncertainties of our past the present, sending those around us in a state of panic as they battle the mixed signals being sent out to them. I can’t begin to comprehend how easy it is for one to trust another so easily, especially in love/romantic relationships.

Loving the wrong one can bring a lot of pain in the end. When these fleeting relationships are at its peak, we forget to really pay attention to the signs. Instead, we focus on potentials, thus forcing us into a state of masked escapism wherein only our insecurities appear faltered. Everything seems bleak, in fact, we are easily convinced that, the hidden pain we feel is just one of those things that come with love. Yes, we actually convince ourselves subconsciously that these things are normal. In such little time, we’ve allowed ourselves to believe the impossible—that which we once feared, now an unmasked reality.

Rekindling Friendships: The little things count..

Today, my very good friend Liz gave me a fancy journal. You know, the ones with the sturdy back and fine paper leaf. This beautiful journal, came with fancy pages, I could only smile as soon as I laid my eyes on it.

She knows how much I love to write, so she decided to surprise me with this nice gift. To many, it’s just a small gesture but to me, it’s a beautiful gesture that just tells me that she thinks fondly of me. Not only does she enjoy our friendship and our special “girl talks”, but she also thought of me when she saw this journal.

She knew right then that there’s a writer in her life who would benefit from this awesome gift. Then, she just gave it to me out of the most sincere, heartfelt way. Okay, maybe not so emotional, but she gave me this journal in the most genuine way possible. It was almost like a je n’ai sais quoi kind of way, “oh, I got you something.” Just like that! Little did she know how much it meant to me.

In hearing those words, I never imagined it would be something this sweet–a new journal. Everyone close to me knows how much I write my ideas down, doodling everywhere, and just occasionally blurting out random ideas –airing my thoughts at those unplanned moments. This is exactly what I needed!

Why does this matter to me? Well, because for one, she’s a busy mom with kids and she still found time to remember me. She saw something that would benefit me, and she had to get it for me, simply because it reminded her of me. Secondly, she knows how much I enjoy writing! What an awesome way to encourage someone who at times doubts their writing skills as not being any good. In retrospect, she made my evening regardless, and this has really earned her a lot of extra respect from my end.

Little things DO mean a lot, especially if you have a heart that appreciates the littlest of gestures. In good and bad times, I pray we’ll always remember these little gestures as a resounding acknowledgement that, there’s always a friend who looks out for you when you least expect it. You’ll just have to open your heart to experience this…from within.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, or was it?

Our paths crossed for a reason. It wasn’t coincidental, I like to think of such “coincidences” as fate making its presence known in our individual destinies—intertwined. Fate brought us together for a reason, and that reason is my reason for holding on to something so inexplicably delightful, and appeasing in the most natural way. I like to think of these chance-meetings as something of a lesson waiting to be learned, or possibly the possibility of “forevers” in the making.

Forevers in the making, I like the sound of that

But how can we grow if we both find it hard to feel?

Feelings of joy, feelings of love we watch being stifled

In our stillness, time constantly escapes us, each passing day lost to fear

We watch helplessly as fear drives us further apart

How can we really grow if forevers are an unsure thing?

How can we grow without equal effort?

How can this thing we have be epic, if all we do is criticize one another?

Failing to notice the right things, we allow our hidden notions emphasize the meaningless concerns

So I ask myself, has fate come to teach me another passing lesson—in time?

Is fate here to remind me not to place my hopes on “forevers”?

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, or was it?

Let’s Just Talk like nobody’s listening

I don’t know why, but stimulating conversations move me. I’m talking about conversations that actually take effort, and not just the mindless chatter of our days. One of the fastest ways to get me out of touch is to starve me, mentally. Yes, I said it! Stimulating conversations are like food to my soul. Call me an idealist or what you may, but I cherish positive, thought-provoking, rich, purposeful, and deep conversations that just leaves me wondering; the possibilities of what could be, and come what may. You see, as someone who enjoys being mentally stimulated, you can’t expect to have a thriving relationship with me if conversations as such don’t move you in any sense. These are part of my wants, and in some cases my desires, as it evolves into the imaginations of anticipated foreplay. At times, I yearn for deep conversations and I actually get offended if it’s nowhere in sight.

It’s so hard to find quality conversations these days, and each time I come across one, they have me excited like I just hit the lottery. These conversations are like life to me, and I can count how many people in my life who have lived up to this expectation. I just enjoy discussions pertaining to life and its mysteries, behaviors, art, spirituality, anything that has to do with freedom, and most exciting of all impromptu prose. I pray for these things in a future partner, and I would desperately hope God sends that along indefinitely.

I once met someone who gave me the best conversations. We would talk for hours on end, we would share ideas and thoughts, inspirations never lived far from us. You see, they had a mind full of creative imaginations, and I would sometimes marvel at how easily they could slip into a creative disposition, baring their soul with just pen and paper. It was one of the most beautiful things I ever experienced. I enjoyed their presence in my life, they motivated me, and I looked forward to seeing them each time. And then one day, death took them away. I looked within for comfort and closure thereafter, then I discovered how writing and delving in the world of arts, will bring me into this blissful peaceful place. This place of rest where I can look within for answers still, while silently hoping and wishing I’d come across that delightful food for the soul—another deep conversation like no other. Silently waiting, secretly wishing that unintentional “hello’s”, and the lifeless “how are you’s’” will someday, at some point turn into meaningful greetings and purposeful questions indicating curiosity.

In the event that I meet someone who enjoys feeding me with these conversations, I propose that they would have already won my heart. Now, this may sound fickle, but trust me it’s much more complicated than that. You see, there’s a difference between purposeful deep genuine-interest-driven conversations versus i-just-want to-impress-you-boring-uninspired type of conversation. Fortunately, I can smell that from afar even before the first few words are uttered. Those are the type of conversations I tend to run away from, here you’ll probably get no text-backs, or late call backs or even day later email responses. Anyone who tries to engage me in these shallow uninspiring conversations is only paving the way for the death of our relationship, or whatever it is we have in common. To me, conversations matter. I look at it as an invitation, an invitation into one’s world. Deep conversations are just all I need at times, just someone to share inspired thoughts about the mysteries and understanding of life. This is where concrete intimacy is built, and to its greatest extent, we are held bound by the mysteries every word spoken relinquishes to our souls. Every word, every thought, every idea shared, we are always reminded of what it actually means to “talk” and “listen” with great intent, to just understand the other person. “Can two walk together if they don’t agree?” Amos 3:3

 

Communication roadblocks: Finding that light

Communication roadblocks: Finding that light.

Communication roadblocks: Finding that light

I can’t hear you. Those words, that statement, a perception of unintended confusion. We say things, we hope it’s clear to the audience, but in most cases, we’re lucky if they even got past the first few words. That communication block has got to be one of the most annoying things to experience when it comes to casual interactions. What we see most of the time, isn’t what others see as well. What others see, comprehend, and reiterate isn’t always what we have in mind either. It sucks to know you have so much to tell someone but you just can’t find the right words because, well, you never really learned the proper way of expressing yourself. I, myself, am calling out one of my pressing weaknesses this morning. There, I said it! I am speechless when it comes to speaking my mind, verbally for the most part. I get so tongue-tied, or rather the words just fade into a thick cloud of misinterpretation; waiting for that communication block to hit me in the head, after all is said and done. It is usually after the conversation has ended minutes, hours, days, months and even occasionally years later, that it hits me “Maybe I should have said that!”

Learning to communicate verbally has been one of my greatest challenges in life because I always shied away from expressing myself verbally as a child. Growing up a timid, shy girl, I never foresaw the consequences of that predicament, which would one day affect me somewhat harshly as an adult. After various past relationships, as I’ve reflected on, I discovered that one of the reasons they never succeeded was because of my lack of communication in certain areas. Voicing out my wants and frustrations could at times be one of the most daunting and exhausting moments of my life. The frustration of not fully comprehending what type of words to use, even though I could simply want to just ask for something as simple as going out for lunch. At any rate, I can vouch for longevity when it comes to my commitment for beating this problem out of me. I am getting better by the day, and as they say, “little by little”.

However, I should add that lately, for the past year or so I have been very forthcoming with my intentions and open with my communication style. I’ve gained interest in writing more, in which I have discovered a hidden therapeutic approach in actually helping myself articulate and communicate my needs and wants better. It might not make sense to the practical mind, the organized and structured kind of person would see this as someone who just needs some sort of order in their life.

Writing for leisure has opened me to a place where I’ve always wanted to go before, but just didn’t know the road to that destination. Writing has brought me to that place where, I can finally dissect my thoughts, putting them in a visual form that almost resembles that of a beautiful piece of art that began with just a scribble. Writing is something I intend to do now, every day, even if it’s just one sentence, at least I know there was a form of release. That release is something I’ve secretly coveted for the longest time, but with a mind clouded with frustrations of not knowing how to express my thoughts, I kept it hidden and locked in a place that was just too dark and airless for me.

Like air, I am breathing again.

Let this breath never be taken away from me, for it is life to me. Let me write till I don’t make sense any longer. It just feels good to write these days, because I can now speak on what I want and what I don’t want. I can now identify those dark sentences riddled in the alleys and dark corners of my clouded mind. It’s sunny in here now, the day is bright, and I can tell you what is actually in my mind.

When Pain Ceases, or Does it?

When Pain Ceases, or Does it?.

When Pain Ceases, or Does it?

As I sit here nursing this pain on my sore arm, I can’t help but ponder the brevity of pain, and how we seldom acknowledge its infinite presence. Pain, like all other things present, will always be there as long as we acknowledge that it is there. Pain gains its authority the moment we decide to give our passing attention to it. Like life, we must withstand those little brief moments of pain that befalls us in the midst of trying times that never seems to escape us.

Pain

The moment we decide it’s real, we lose our power

We cater to its aching whims

We lose sense of what’s effective, and focus on the less expressive

I enjoy the moments when pain ceases to exist

Yes, the brief moments when we escape pain

Or does pain really escape us?

Pain is there, until we give it a name, a voice—an identity

What is pain?

Is it something we just feel in times of lost rendition?

Is it something we must succumb to because it’s meant to be acknowledged?

Pain, oh pain—since when did you strengthen your grip?

Why must you remind us of what we’ve fought so hard to heal?

In times of grief, you remind us of the realities of this sting

In times of hurt, we are reminded of the infinite existence of pain

An infinite existence, not anonymous to what we know as pain

This same pain, we escape by all means…forgetting the natural process it undergoes

Pain will remain, as long as we give it a name, a voice—an identity

That identity is power…the power of knowing when to escape pain

Pain, is there… seething in its glory, just waiting to be acknowledged