the full circle

I saw his face on the weekly newsletter and my mind started firing questions…

Is that really how he looks like? The face that I once adored…

My heart gave me strange sensations… As if it was having amnesia or a de javu… It wasn’t sure how to react… aches, pains and blues for a story has came to an end… glee, wonder and relief for an answer, for a chance to know what’s really going on in his life, for seeing his face for the last time; albeit still and captured in time.

He looks different though. He feels different to my soul. He wasn’t who I remembered him to be.

He always have an air of arrogance in him… The Alpha male. But, back then I can see and feel the light and airyness, the softness of his being and soul… In his smile, in his tone of voice.

But this picture of him… He has aged. There was no softness in his face even though he was smiling at the camera. Dare I say, there was darkness in his eyes even when he was smiling… and a glimpse of fear… Covered with a giant wall of arrogance and pride.
Has so much changed in the last few months?

Or has he always been this way?
It’s strange how the universe works. But I am slowly starting to trust its way.

The day before I saw his photograph on the newsletter, his name popped up in a conversation…

So I did facilitate a little bit, hoping to get a glimpse of news on him. And that I did.
He’s a dad now.

“Had a baby four weeks before the exams…”

Which made it just shy of two months old.

There was a show and tell of the newborn and daddy, but I didn’t join that.

“Yeah crazy. He’s an international mystery man…” were the words I heard to describe him. I listened from afar, trying not to look affected by the news.

What a choice of description; I thought.

International? Mystery?

Wonder what happen………
That afternoon I took a walk around the park… as I walk towards my favourite spot, I felt a release; a sense of guidance, an answer, an ending. I haven’t smiled the way I did that afternoon for along time….. it was the bittersweet realisation that I am forever guided… that whatever prayers I said to the universe, it will answer me.

Autumn once again…

Hollow;
the sound of her heart…
numb, dark, full of sorrow

Fists clenched
Body shaken
as she sobs and sobs
Forehead on the floor

Curse,,,
Never before would she say all those words with such convictions
This time, it seems only the most offensive words would ease some of the pain she’s held inside

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
FUCKING HELL.
NO…
She wasn’t cursing God.
She was cursing the agony of grief…
The agony of mourning

It is Hell, alright.
The autumn wind hits her face as she steps out
Bone aching cold air seeps through her layers of clothes
Her body heat dissipates, her warmth no more
Menacing grey clouds gather together, getting ready for a storm

They too will shed their tears

Brown sycamore leaf performs it’s last dance as early autumn dusk sets in
The Fall’s dance…
The leaf, like a stretched out hand twirling helplessly in the wind
lands on a puddle of rain
For one second, it sees the last reflection of itself in the water
lifeless, spent
There in the pool of water, it will rot and decay
Feeding the earth
All that it has left
Giving away til the last fragment of the leaf blade turn into dust

Magic dust in the fertile soil
That might one day
Ignite that light in her heart once more
Allowing her to see,
to remember,
All that was lost is still there
Spirit is always there
Even when she can no longer see the flesh or feel the embrace,
She can feel the light illuminating from within, holding her close…
Holding her right next to love, tenderness and grace
Even when there is no more flesh
She is held, alright.
She is held in the light, she is never let go.

In memory of Norm… Friday 21st April. Rest in bliss and peace.

No amount of proper goodbyes would be enough… but i am glad that we had a proper one, even though I was oblivious it would be the last goodbye.

broken window

The tall mole guard crept up behind floppy-eared bunny and accused her;
“You’ve broken the stained glass window of our precious blue cart…who knows how many eggs were stolen!” 
Petrified, bunny tried to defend herself.
By this time, there is a commotion surrounding her. They gathered around the rental cart, showing her how devastating the damage was and how much this will cost her.
Exhausted and filled with fear, she knew the window was not broken when she came a few days ago to rent the cart.
But really, the broken window was not her fault.
She had returned to the parked cart after picking up more supplies at the Parisienne Chocolatier, when she found that someone had maliciously broke the window and stole the last of her speckled Easter egg, costing her at least four baskets of purple carrots!
This whole ordeal destroyed bunny.
She has lost so much.
All her energy spent, her body limp and she began to sob…
“ Why has a stream of bad luck followed me? “ she asked.
Feeling helpless, she found herself whispering a prayer…a plead…as she looked up the cloudy morning sky.
“ So… Show me how You would resolve this? “
The truth is that it wasn’t her fault and yet she is also not in any position to defend herself because all evidence are pointing at her; the damage was done while the cart was under her care.
They let her cry in the corner while the man owner of the Carrot Cart Rental was called to judge the situation.
As she waited and sobbed, she heard a different voice, a benevolent one:
“ Your only chance is the mercy and generosity of a human being… “
The human owner arrived to assess the damage of his cart.
The cart was quite precious; the stained glass windows were intricately designed by the local artist, there is no other cart like it in town. But the actual cart itself is worn and old fashion. The wheels wobble and creak with each turn.. this cart has already had its glory. It is now time to purchase a new model for the business.
The man turned to bunny…
Go home. Forget about this. Don’t worry about the cart. You can go.
       Mercy; when compassion touches a wise man’s heart.
With tears still streaming down her face, bunny bowed to the man owner, too speechless to thank him. As she slowly walked her path home, she felt a ray of light illuminating a tiny corner at the center of her chest – grace.

Fraud

I’m not quite sure what is happening inside of me currently, but for the past 2 weeks, I’ve been feeling like a fraud.

I’ve really become extremely judgemental about myself.

Questioning my intentions on every single thing that I do, including but not pertaining to the fundraising.

I think, YES, I was greatly disappointed with the outcome. I had thought that more bags would be given away all at the same time, or that at least I would only be left with a third or something like that. But instead, I am left with three quarters of what I have… and I don’t really know where else I would go and look for support?

Even embarking on the first journey and fundraising the first time, I felt really bad and really small at times… because I am so not used to receiving help or asking for donations….

Sigh…

I dont know, really.

I need help. And a lot of courage and humility.

And time and energy to do it all.

Got to do it slowly of course, no matter how quickly I want it to be done and dusted… that’s not how it is going to be.

Show me your way.

really?

Suddenly my thoughts wander to seeing him smiling at me.

I don’t even remember the colour of his eyes…

Was it gray?

Was it light green?

I can’t be sure.

But I remember the way he smiles, with his whole jaw… and his wide lips… and then his eyes.

I don’t know why she reminded me so much of him…

The way she smiles reminded me of him…

And today when she came to visit and sat on the doctor’s desk next to me… and she was friendly to greet me and we had small talks… she mentioned about the exams that were taken last week…

And immediately a voice whispered to me;

See, so he’s still got exams. Maybe there’s still chance that I could hear back from him?

I was mortified, I felt weak and stupid hearing this thought… I mean, really? I mean… why, after all these times, does my desire continues to lean towards him? Doesn’t it get the message that it’s time to move on? The ship has sailed…

I am tired of feeling this way… of liking someone and then feeling disappointed and hurt and shameful that it didn’t work out the way I wanted to… and then it seems, I will just repeat the same cycle.

Is this truth?

What is truth? Do I like him still? Do I still wish he would at least say something? Am I silly for giving a go and made a fool of myself?

I am like that puppy… that is trapped on the other side of the fence… looking longingly and wishfully at something it cannot reach, yet it wants to know so badly.

Is this how it would be?

Will the wheel stops for me?

Or will I be forever spinning?

 

Let the room speaks

Oh dear, oh dear…

Look at that wrath

on your face

 

Full of judgement
You came in here with your hands on your hips, 
towering,
with your menacing eyes, scanning from corner to corner,
You try to pick on each furniture and decide their fate…
“The Tip!!!!!” 
 
Your lips won’t say it, but I hear all that your mind speaks
 
 
Look…
Soften that face now
Straighten your frown
My furnitures belong here, they are free to occupy my space
 
You resonate with them with so much fury, dear, because they remind you of the chunky, pointy, odd-shaped part of your life journey that make you feel out-of-place, isolated and ugly.
 
And a riddance of them, you think, to be replaced with something shiny, new and stylish… would put you back in a place of beauty.
 
But profound beauty is only discovered when you can extract the function that each serves
 
 
Chunky is strong,
Chunky protects you from storm,
Chunky keeps you standing still when the Northern Wind blows.
 
 
 
Look,
Soften that face now,
Straighten your frown,
 
 
The furnitures stay, 
they belong,
you belong,
we own our home.
 
 
 
Just some writing I’ve done recently which I’ve kept offline…
xx

that’s when courage gets its name

when you slow down to a crawl
when your breath slows to a hush
you feel the intensity of your pain
you hear the hollowing cries of your inner child
waiting for you to come closer
come closer
take a good look
at your own scars
Look! I’ve scarred, okay?!
Can’t you hear the screeching hurt of my inner voice?
Comfort me! Why don’t you comfort me now? 
Why do you keep walking away?
courage is the loving, selfless mother who would turn around at the slight cry of her child.
courage would run back and comfort her.
run back
and comfort her.