belonging

the funny thing about being home after traveling is how quickly every place else seems to be worlds away. how even the last destination fades quickly into motion, like a photographic blur. there is something disconcerting about knowing how the last place where you walked talked and lived only days before, could go on perfectly without you.

i have gone through all sorts of emotions while traveling. from the euphoric sense of being lost; the quiet peace that stems from knowing you are exactly where you're meant to be; to the momentary sense of alienation that disintegrates when you discover a strange familiarity in your new surroundings. but a new kind of emotion came to surface while i was traveling across north america. i found myself looking to belong.

i have always kept the wonder in me. it's what makes me see the world as i do. wherever i am, i know home is eventually a place i carry within. and so it comes to amaze me how on one wintery afternoon, i find myself taking this home right out of my heart and into my hands, wanting to place it down on solid ground.

it may be the fact that i have left my island exactly a year ago to go on a journey that required me to travel outside and within. while i haven't known any other place that has captured me intimately & immensely as this island has, i realize i am ready to sail on and leave its shores.

in all this wandering, i recognize elements of myself even in the most unfamiliar places. i pick them up one by one, as if puzzle pieces collected from my travels and because of this, i come back with a better picture of who i am.

the heart of a nomad. this tells me that i may never belong in one place. but as long as i know my self, then i'll never lose my way again.



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Now playing: Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson - Winter Song
via FoxyTunes

a very long engagement

what the heart imagines, life conjures. it is when pain does not numb the will to go on, nor kills the fire that burns in the coldest of nights. the inexplicable urge to hold on to something that keeps you alive even in its absence.

to find thyself is a very long engagement. to find the other half longer still. almost like memories that repeat itself through lifetimes, you see pieces of you in another and experience fleeting moments of perfection. isn't this what we all aim for? when we can finally be still, after running and walking and flying, have that one thing we were glad we fought for, see it through the light of the day and the dark of the night.


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Now playing: José González - Heartbeats
via FoxyTunes

unraveling

when big questions like "who am i", "what do i really want" surface, once in a while we come up with all these little answers that we're not sure what to make of. sometimes the heart whispers so gently we tend to not listen, completely ignoring the truths that come in small packages. but if we look at it like a treasure map, these little answers may very well be clues that lead us to the prize. after all, isn't life one big scavenger hunt? we get to the big answers when we start following the small ones. sometimes we need to get to the little treasures first.

i have learned to listen to these tiny voices in me. they have led me to the right places. and yet there are moments when i still find myself in the dark. when my fingers fail to trace the lines that should lead me to where i long to be. fear gets in the way and clouds my line of view. it reduces my heart's whispers to a blur. then i begin to see a familiar patch of sadness that spreads itself like butter over me. it is baffling how easy i yield to it sometimes, forgetting how far i've come. but faith steps in the most unexpected moments. in the form of a teacher, a stranger, a friend. or a page from a book. like a match that strikes a light inside us, we begin to see more clearly and we start to find our way once again.

yet i alone must decide what is best for me. i know this to be true. because even with my eyes closed i know where the lines lead to and i need to fulfill the irony that seems to inflict itself on everyone. how we all travel far and wide, scavenge and hunt in all the strange corners of this world, only to come back to the place within where the big answers reside. with my own hands i'll unravel myself, untie the threads that has kept my truths bound. and with one fine swift motion, set them free.


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Now playing: The Weepies - All That I Want
via FoxyTunes

once i was a flower child

i like walking in this neighbourhood. although there's little left from the summer of love, haight continues to breed and attract modern day hippies. it's easy to pass time when the street is filled with cafes, shops, music knick knacks & vintage stores. and speaking of vintage, i scored an electric blue cocktail dress from Wasteland for $16. how cool is that.

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Now playing: The Cure - Just Like Heaven
via FoxyTunes

we all have lists

a things-to-do-before-i-die list. a bucket list. blacklist. bluelist. well i have my own list when traveling to a different country. my top 3 travel musts where most, if not all, of my memorable and fascinating experiences stem from.

number 1. meet the people
number 2. taste the food
number 3. go to the supermarket

a colorful interaction with the locals say so much about the country i'm visiting. it is the people that make the place after all. street chow or a plate of fancy cuisine, more than the usual tourist attractions, reflect the country's unique culture and history. but a trip to the supermarket gives a peek to the everyday life that's almost hidden from the average traveler. the ordinariness that is normally overlooked when one is too focused on the places-i-have-to-see-in-this-country list. and so wherever my feet have taken me, from the prosciutto filled shops of italy to the spice scented stores of india, i have gladly indulged myself to these visits.

one sunny afternoon, somewhere in south san francisco, my happy feet took a stroll down to the grocery store. as soon as i stepped inside trader joe's, it was love at first visit.

if you haven't been inside any trader joe's, well let me tell you, almost everything inside is oozing with healthy goodness. organic ice cream to low sodium potato chips to strawberry yogurt covered cereals. and yes they taste really good.

i can spend hours walking down the aisles while i marvel at the assortment cheese and chocolates. in a land where everything is super-sized, here is a breath of fresh air. trader joe's has become my happy place.

as if that weren't enough, they make the cutest bags. as i've done the past 4 years, i brought my own. but since i shopped more than necessary, i was more than happy to purchase another one.

now excuse me as i prepare tonight's dinner ~ shrimp in thai red curry sauce and soyaki mixed vegetables.

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Now playing: Modern English - I Melt With You
via FoxyTunes

on the road again

three weeks of travel. four more to go. stories to tell. but for now, i'll let the pictures do the talking.

it dawns on me

it's not that i don't like the city. there are plenty of things to love about it. like street corners and old buildings. museums and ice cream parlours. neon lights and empty streets in the dead of the night. but not this city. try as i might to work out reasons to belong, i feel lost at the end of the day.

i miss my island and yet i don't feel the urge to go running back in order to belong. it is this strange feeling which fascinates & comforts me, knowing i have found home at last. but being here, in this city, i feel a displacement of sorts. there are people here that i truly love and yet there is nothing here for my soul.

is this what it means to have the heart of a nomad?

the kindness of strangers

is an odd, baffling and heartwarming thing. it is also something i have not felt in recent weeks. i must be getting spoiled. it's a strange feeling to miss.

i am half asleep as i think this, half awake as i write. but i am getting off the bed for a quick minute as i remember that glorious fish masala in the pot. that certainly needs to be put in the fridge for further consumption.

the moon is halfway across the indigo sky. and here i am still thinking about food.

when in manila

leave.

i have always felt that manila's this huge airport terminal. like i'm forever in transit when i'm in this city, wordlessly seeing other travelers pass me by as i wait for the next journey. so it's no big surprise that in 3 whole weeks (3 days were spent in la union/5 days in hk/another 3 days in la union) i was actually out if it half the time. though i have grown from tolerating to liking it (and even enjoying certain parts of it), how can i, a natural born beachbaby, say no to, well, the beach.

so off to la union we went where the waves beckoned.

top to bottom: LOVE my rvca boardshorts; wave watching; surf happy; clockwise: after the surf; the making of a big bad bruise; an attempt to mimic the gangsta surfer; surfmaid's "garage"

though i brought my waterproof cam that weekend, there were none of those photos of us surfing. why? because everyone was in the water surfing their brains out.

what better way to end this surf trip than riding off into the sunset.

i've got mail

look what arrived in the mail today.

my la pomme goodies from provence! finally after two weeks i rip this much awaited package open & out comes the most heavenly of scents. christmas has come early!

out comes my sleep angels, lavender scented dream dolls filled with this season's crop of sweet-smelling dried lavender flowers from Provence.

and my bilingual cloves, linen ornaments stuffed with cloves & star anise, with customized words love, truth and light. in english and in french.

as if these weren't enough, apol (la pomme creator) has tucked in another cutie, a gift for being her first customer from her homeland, the philippines. yup, these babies are made with love by a filipina.

thanks apol! my new la pomme lovelies have quickly found their own corners in my home. :)

i am peter pan

i will always be a child in so many ways. it was a teacher who has said it first, you are an old soul. frankly it took me by surprise. i have thought myself as new to this world. i've always held a lot of fascination for the ordinariness of things. i have the eternal wonder in me as if i'm always seeing things for the first time. then i started to think, maybe it's true. that my soul, ancient, has gone through childhood in so many lifetimes that i remember it with graceful ease.

which is why this halloween i went as peter pan. not as the boy who never grew up. but as someone who vows to be forever young.

there comes certain points in our lives when we stop and realize that we are in the middle of nowhere. oftentimes we lose our way simply because we've forgotten who we are. i've suffered through a drawn-out quarter life crisis agonizing over not knowing who i was and where i was going. years have taught me that the answer wasn't out there. so i drilled down to the deepest place i could find within me and like peter pan, i realized i was not young enough to know everything.

thus i started being a kid again. i rediscovered old favorites and more importantly, i started remembering the things that made me happy as a child. i remembered my dreams which were sorrily dismissed somewhere along the road to being an adult. it's ironic how we couldn't wait to grow up and learn to become this amazing person, when we've had what it takes all along. as grown-ups we have learned to fear and hesitate on the brink of our goals. we've simply forgotten that no dream is too impossible, too wonderful to be real.

this journey of unlearning continues today.

if you find yourself lost or at the crossroads, remember. go back to that place where all our happy thoughts live. which way to neverland? second to the right and straight on till morning!

hope wins

i've had no televison these last 3 and a half years. no regular csi marathons, no glimpses of reality tv as they like to call the irony, no flashing neon box sitting in a corner of my room. for 3 and a half years i've enjoyed this peace and quiet, my own definition of luxury. some have said i've disconnected myself from the world. which is funny because i've never felt so connected before as much as i have now now. mornings come and i don't see celebrity gossip or hear the latest balita (news). instead i see the light changing its colors. i know if it's a good day for the surfers to ride their kite or if it's a morning i'd like to swim in the beach. i wake up with my own thoughts for the day, reinforced by my own positivity. on days which aren't as good, i wake up dealing with my own battles. i believe that the news that really matter will come to me anyway and come they have. from the the pertinent (obama is president! - an sms from my aunt in virginia the very minute he was proclaimed) to the the entertaining bits that hardly tip the scales (angelina jolie's having twins! - my mom).

this tube-less existence isn't apathy towards what's happening in the planet nor cynicism towards the people that run it. it's simply a choice that i've made. i choose to listen to stories of people whose actions make a difference, no matter how big or small; of people who have the same compassion and desire to change this world beginning with themselves. while i find a handful of tv series (straight from dvds!) wildly amusing, nothing entertains me more than real stories from friends i've known since high waist maong (jeans) were all the rage; to island folks who've chosen to live simply and therefore largely; and from beautiful strangers i've met here & in my travels. these are tales that make the fiber of everyday existence. more than anything, they are constant reminders that there's still more humanness in this world than is being shown in that box.



so when a story of gigantic magnitude reflects the same values, the whole world is up on its feet. barack obama's victory has not only made history in terms of color, race & number. he's had the whole world of hopefuls rooting for him, wishing that they too could vote. his win is a testament of a world crying out for change. in a time of disbelief, he united those who still had faith running in their veins, the same group of individuals across the continents who've been making a difference in their own little ways. the collective result is a miracle made possible not by gods, but by human beings.

what i have learned in these last 3 and a half years is that we are all connected. that whatever pockets of negativity we carry contribute to the disease that ails our planet. that whatever bursts of joy and love we bring continue to heal this affliction. what so many of us fail to realize is that it is hope why we still walk despite being wounded. because if there isn't any (as the jaded would love to rally), then why not drop dead and cease to exist? why go on, i mean really, if this life isn't worth saving? there's always hope tucked in the dustiest corners of our hearts. so long as we continue to breathe, hope lives.

i'm not saying or implying that you get rid of your tv :) what works for me may not work for everyone else. but i think that we all have our own personal televisions we can give up in exchange for something real. a life without it has not made me apathetic to the issues, rather it has made me more compassionate. i didn't ditch it because i became cynical, but because i wanted to be more optimistic. when i decided to stop watching it was then that i started seeing how things really are.

open up your mind & see like me

one of my favorite songs of the moment is jason mraz's i'm yours. there's something to its lyrics & melody that radiates such positivity & lightness which so attracts me to it. which is why i play it on most mornings. it reminds me of the box i used to live in and the charmed life i'm living now, and the one thing that bridged the distance between the two. an open mind.

there used to be so much fear in me and all that made this life impossible. until i realized that imagination is indeed everything.

and so i wake up with the sun's first rays painting my window. i walk on sand & breathe the air that tells me i'm surrounded by the ocean. i live amongst people who see the essence of living simply & largely at the same time. i end my day with sunsets, moonrises & star spattered skies. and when i look up i hug my knees because i'm thankful. for this life is truly beautiful.

almost 4 years on the island and still i find the magic in everyday things.

shine on me

since the day i opened my window, the wind has blown more than dust into my life. strange & beautiful moments for instance. i watch them unfold in my windowless sky with eyes wide open. i have learned to lay down and gaze at the fireworks & stardust as they light up before me without the need to freeze the moment. instead i let the string of moments pass. time is but an infinite line.

photo by the happy factory

i live in the best place a girl like me could ever ask for. i dreamt of this when i was little until i realized that some dreams are never outgrown. i think it is in this way that we become eternally childlike.

i love this island because it made me embrace my restless soul and understand that not all who wander are lost. i like how living here has made me feel more connected with the world outside & within. there are little things that always remind me life is beautiful. like celebrating the night of the full moon each month. a few nights ago we were dancing in a little shack by the beach while rain poured around us. in the light of the moon we sang with friends & strangers, forgetting our differences, remembering that what we have in common is greater than what sets us apart. no borders lay before us that night. we were bound, as we are, by silver threads that connect everything in this world.

truth is always the heart of the matter. whether we choose to look away or not, neil patrick harris will always be gay. smoking cigarettes can kill. that the world does not stop for our grief. and some chocolates are indeed better than sex. but there is no greater truth than love that is unconditional. pure love. that is what i believe in. it is what i strive for my self. then we realize that having a partner to love in the same degree (and who loves you back in mind-blowing proportions) is a freaking bonus.

that night my friend rico said "don't believe everything i say - i'm full of shit". that's his take and he's downright honest with it. eventually we realize there is no need for masks, silly little playthings that they are. that what we have tried to hide & run away from is what we would one day seek. we define our own truths after all. and there is nothing greater for the soul than this.

think about it

i don't think love is sweeter the 2nd, 3rd or nth time around. i think we are the ones who get better at it. love has always been perfect.

neal donald walsch said that there are only two forces in this world from which we operate from. love & fear. i agree. this does not dismiss the other constant things like hurt & destruction, desire & sacrifice. but it cuts through them and defines each one for what it truly is, simplifying everything in life we've managed to complicate. since stumbling upon this discovery i have been asking this question each time i find myself in a dilemma or on the brink of a life-changing decision, what will love have me do?

forever young

smiles that lit up my night

everybody loves pizza

everyone here is ageless

because i truly believe that age is a number, a reason for small talk & an unreliable measure of one's maturity. gabriel garcia marquez summed it up perfectly when he said age is not how old you are but how old you feel. and on this island where the beach is our playground, the sun sea & wind our way of life and every single day is a celebration, everyone can't help but feel young.

of rice fields & lullabyes

i'm nestled in the middle of rice fields, in the middle of nowhere, like a bird that has made its nest for the night. the frogs croak & the fan whirs me a lullaby. i am no longer a stranger in a strange land. i walk the earth, fly & touch a piece of the distant sky if i could. there must be too much of the wind in me.

always moving, always sailing. constant like the changing moon.

bali high

i love bali. absolutely love it. suffice to say i'm coming back :)

untitled

The afternoon sun is setting as she leafs through her book, through pages that murmur sadness, elements that make her lose track of time. She looks up and suddenly the sky has turned indigo. The water echoes the same hue, the color before her broken only by the thin blue line of the horizon that looks anything but fragile. She gazes at the sky in bliss, her fingers wanting to rip the blueness of it. One moment of perfection, one moment of anguish. Her bowl of soup comes, steaming with fish goodness. She wonders what roots her to this moment, to the ten thousand moments of sameness in her life. She wonders what makes her stay and what makes her go. The answers are here somewhere, she thinks, covered in indigo light, between pages of fiction, within the depths of hot & sour soup. She looks for it but it escapes her, like steam rising out of the bowl and up in the air, into the blackness of the night, curling itself around the silver of the moon.

human threads

30 minutes, 3 martinis later, bored & still sober, i gazed down at the 80 or so bodies that moved below me & wondered if anyone out there was truly happy. i wondered if they put on the dress, dabbed the perfume on their necks solely for themselves. i wondered how many were really dancing without mind nor care of anyone watching. i wondered how many out there were like me, longing for something out of reach. i could see the tinge of wanting illuminated under the pulsing neon lights. i realized that save for a flight of stairs & a huge glass window, nothing really separated me from these other people. that the person who said "what we have in common is greater than what sets us apart" is right. we are all connected.

i called it a night & headed home.

tonight

tonight no words come
as i sit with myself
lingering in silence
watching my heart sink
as it struggles to stay afloat
brave like the tiny leaf
that clings to an old weary branch.

tonight no words come
as i drift down this river
this mad crazy ride called my life
exhausting exhilarating wildly amazingly wonderful
at the same time.

tonight no words come
as the feeling of longing engulfs me
as i yearn for your warm embrace
as the eternal wonder settles in me
as i wonder about when & where
no words come...
and i let that be.

coming home

ever since i've arrived, there hasn't been an ordinary day. each morning i wake up to a new truth that has slowly woven its way into my life. it amazes me how well i'm accepting all these changes. it amazes me how it doesn't feel like i'm coping, but rather, how it almost seems i'm simply watching life unfold. yet being the passionate being that i am, i also witness the emotions that rise & fall with my breath. hurt, fear & hope all tangled up in vines that hover at my feet. they remind me of the all too familiar vulnerability that has cloaked me in the past. the door was left wide open to those who were allowed to come in & be in a precious position to hurt me. but now the difference is startlingly clear. the door no longer goes through my soul. the vines no longer bind me to the ground. i have freed myself.

when love & pain come my way, i embrace it on impulse because instinct tells me to. but a voice within tells me to let go. before it threatens to consume me again. so i taste it, feel it & call it mine but only for a moment. i am reminded once more that i need to keep nothing & no one else but my self.

and so i'm letting it go, i'm letting it go, i'm letting it go.

diary of an island girl in india

it's my last night in mysore and i wish i could paint the beauty that lies before me. photographs fail to capture the grace of the new moon rising against a pale young evening sky, or the scent of jasmine drifting in the air as a little one wraps a garland over a statue of ganesh. how can a photograph capture an old colonial mansion as it slowly comes to life, light pouring out of its windows as the dusk unfolds. or the wind on my face as i breeze through this charming little town on a motorbike, past cows that gently walk the roads as rickshaws whisk by, or the cool shade of the tree lined streets past temples that light up in the night. it is the ordinariness of things that makes these moments extraordinary, almost magical. india.

bliss

what can i say? i'm happy. i'm learning so much about myself and meeting people who inspire me. i'm doing what i love and i want to spend the rest of my life this way. i want to spend every second of each day pursuing what is worthwhile, that which feeds my soul. i do not want to waste any of it in trivial pursuits, running after temporary satisfactions and swimming in pools of negativity. i have always known what makes me happy and i want to spend the rest of my life discovering the world, discovering who i am and all the best i can be.


what brings me to the mat is the same place i want to serve from. this is my purpose. to heal people as i healed myself. through yoga. through watsu. through a better way of living. through love.

in the process there are things and people i have to let go. there is nothing for me to keep except my self. i've tried so hard to control when all i can really do is watch & witness all that is external. as i write this, say this, think this, feel this, i pray for courage. that i may let go with grace and love in my heart to prepare me for whatever sadness that may come.

but i will not think of that now, here in this space where i am. and i realized this when i started my journey to rediscovering myself, two years ago in the middle of a small town along the ligurian coast, that the life that i have always wanted is in me. because now i know, whether i'm walking on sand or on cobbled streets or in the hallways of an ashram... i am home.

new territory

I was rooted to the spot I’ve circled for so long. Uncertainty weighed me down and planted my feet deeper into the ground... Wanderlust stirs inside my soul but I can only go so far. I need to free me.

My heart will only be at peace when I can listen to its void. I do not wish to limit all my actions to what is careful, practical, realistic. I do not wish to betray my own soul.

I no longer fear.

Some of us travel forever, in search of other states, other lives, other souls... I travel for all.

long way home

it's been a long day and i still do not know. if the life that i love is the life that i want. how many of us truly know if what we have is a good life. not good as measured by the standards of comfort or luck or by the things that make life easy. but good because we are aware when it's bad and when it needs fixing. good because we fully trust that where we are is where we are meant to be. good because it is not a life unlived.

it's been a long day. my nerves need soothing. my mind needs to be still. and i may have a lot of questions but for now... my body needs to know that i have made it through the day.

on a lighter note

things you can find on my bed:

dinner
chocolates
lca+
my new & experimental holga
cellphones
ipods
laptop
a new movie
my house keys
yoga book
photo cd
headphones
inhalation beads
some clothes
brassiere
a new dress
red & black pens
my beatles notepad
a safety pin
pillows
blanket
an empty ziplock bag

there are nights when i honestly feel like i live on this bed. literally. when all matter exists on this piece of foam - music, love, stories, laughter, tears and dreams. there is a lot that goes on here. at the end of the day, i take my trash out. i clean up my space in an attempt to clear my head. because at the end of the day, we could do without clothes or cameras and (gasp) even chocolates. at the end of the day, all we want is peace of mind.

the next step

acceptance is painful.

but it is necessary.

what is love after all? it is a force that does not wither. it does not cower at the sight of the unappealing. it does not turn to dust when each has to take its own different path. love does not die even when we leave.

love is a force. it can make us go and it can make us stay. love can move for different reasons. and it can move for none.

love simply is.

long after our choices have been made, love will continue to live. it may take another form and we may not recognize nor acknowledge it, but it will always be there.

acceptance.

the girl i used to know

the bed seems empty without your legs eating up my side. the room seems quiet without your high-low-high pitch voice that breaks into laughter in the most uncanny moments. my night seems still without your thoughts, your words and your whole jumbled up weird character.

it's your last night here and it feels like it's my first without you.

a year of pillow talk and movie nights and taboo that we didn't play; a year of spilling secrets and dinners and sleepovers that would put any high school record to shame; a year of journeys and self discoveries, of laughter and tears that lingered late into the night. we may have pondered over the men in our lives and yet in the year that has passed, there was no better person to be with than you.

and so the winds that have brought you here are back to bring you elsewhere. i'll see you in bali where our wanderlust will take us. we'll hie off to some island and surf for a month. the world is big for our dreams and small for us to meet again :)

one day you will come back here, the girl i used to know. because today you are becoming the woman you are meant to be.

faith

there is much to heal in this world. for every wound that refuses to heal. for every angel that falls from the sky. for every hurt that hides beneath fragile wings. there is much to heal.

and so we turn to those we love and wonder, how can i make them see? how can i help them get through the pain, mend the hearts which were shattered into a thousand little pieces? how can i make them see life is still worth living?

i sit with myself and the words of someone very spiritual echo in my mind. i cannot heal in others what is wounded in me.

i sit with myself and find faith. faith that can see. it is the candle that glows in the dark. it is faith that tells me there is no need to suffer inspite of the pain, no need to lose myself when sorrow comes my way. that which tells me to be brave so i can inspire others to do the same. i can heal myself. it is faith that tells me impossible is nothing.

i sit with myself and know. that inspite of all the hurt and sadness that creep their way in, life remains beautiful. because i let it.

i love paris

and i miss it.

becoming

I am not who you think I am.
Not now.
Not today.
There is no recognition as I stare
At the reflection
that stares back at me.
I don’t need to see
To know.
What’s inside me is breathing.
Pulsing.

I am who I think I am
Slowly unfolding
Like the beginnings of a dark thought.
There is no reason to despise
What is becoming a part of me.
I walk
Mesmerized by my own shadow.
A strange creature
That fascinates
And taunts
The better part of me.

new beginnings

today the storm came and ravaged our island. today the storm came and ravaged the place i've grown to call home.

the sight was devastating. the canopy that once sheltered me from rain stooped like a tired old man. the pathway was gone. and the trees that stood proud yesterday lay broken on the ground. it was terrible and it made my heart break.

rain kept falling as i swept the pathway clean, as others before me and others after me picked up the branches, picked up the pieces to make this place whole, never stopping until we could see the path again. and i could see. in the midst of ruins i am surrounded by beauty. in the people whose spirits are still intact even when their own homes have been shattered. whose arms did not tire after hours of no food and sleep. we may have lost our homes, our clothes, our everyday belongings but we have not lost the one thing that mattered most in this time of distress. our hope.

night comes and rain still falls, but the wind has hushed down leaving a cool stillness in the air. what started out to be a horrifying morning turned into one of the most amazing days i have seen. the courage and resilience that cleared th paths, the admirable compassion that went into rebuilding the place that so many others call home resonated through the silence of the night. if love came from a well that built this place, then from the same well we will build again.

it is almost midnight as i walk home. stripped of its leaves, the tree stands strong in the circle of hope. fireflies dance overhead and a lone star begins to shine through the cloudy skies... hope. it's time for new beginnings.

gypsy

the wind is calling, and i have to go. there will be sand beneath our feet. there will be stars looking down on us. in this infinite sky...

oh the gypsy in me

happy tomorrows

seeking. restless. sleepless. oh the initial stirrings of wanderlust.

to have left the place that stifled me, to have unloved the things i held dear, to have started the journey in search for myself. that which i had lost. that which i have found once more.

funny how we run away from home, funnier still how we run back. so much things we hate about it and so much more things to love.

because somewhere along the way we realize it isn't the place we're running away from. but the person we've become. or rather, the person we haven't become. the disappointment borne out of undreaming dreams and the hollow sadness of being stuck.

and so we run away. to follow almost forgotten dreams. in search for la dolce vita.

the sweetness of this life comes from knowing that home is where love is. that wherever i go and whenever i decide to pack my bags and head to a place where love resides, that is home.

where will this wanderlust take me now? to distant shores, to a vine covered yellow house perhaps? the beauty that stems from knowing that everything is possible. i smile in glorious anticipation :)

today

today i remembered my grandmother's voice
i heard it clearly
slicing the morning air
i cried as i realized that i will never
hear it again

in memory

the sun has set on an old day
and i will never see her again
the grandma of my youth

the one who would come on our birthdays
and wear her own party hat
who would come on random nights
and visit us when we were little enough
to sit on her lap

the one who braved
the war and dusty bus rides
and robbers
who were chased away with a stick
and pure iron guts

the one who would keep us in her home
during our childhood summers
feeding us, watching us hop and skip
over chalked boxes we drew in her backyard

the one who would play the piano
day and night
the one who would make us play
the chopsticks over and over again

the one who would bring us to the park
every summer afternoon
watching us play
watching us grow
letting us run in full abandon

the one who marveled while i cooked
my first masterpiece
of hot soup with leaves and fish eyes
i got from her kitchen

the one who would take us to the movies
in the middle of the day
making us feel like grown ups
by letting us choose our own seats

the one who had always made me feel like a grandchild
long after i grew up
and who held me in her arms
until i was big enough to hold her

the one who would keep photos of my travels
and listen to my stories
whose spirit and wanderlust didn't flicker
with the coming of her age

the one who would wear bracelets that we've made
like pieces of expensive jewelry
precious against her healthy wrists
we used to hang on to when crossing the streets

the one who would grow old
like i knew she would
someday.

the sun has gone down
the old streets of our youth flash before me
and she is gone

the grandmother i will miss

kaleidoscope

the sky burns. the air slowly turns itself into pink. night is coming. but in these few seconds of dusk, of twilight descending, of kaleidoscope stirring, i awake.

oriah ~ the mountain dreamer

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

letter to a dear one

your message a few nights ago took me by surprise. true, it was my birthday after all. but it was refreshing to hear from you. catching up on each other's lives after years of silence, allowing each other a momentary peek into our worlds. a thousand miles apart and yet here we are. in the heart of strange places we finally call home.

how far we've come. and how far we're still going...

i look back at those years when we lived entangled lives. was it so long ago? or was it only yesterday? i hear you now and see how far you've grown from being lost. how certain you've become. i ran away from all the noise to a place i've always held dear. and you... in the midst of all the noise, the thrill, the circus of the big apple, found yourself. we are so alike. and so different.

it took us quite a while to untangle each other. but here we are now :)

thank you for remembering. for knowing me. for being my first love, and passion.

and after years of being together and being apart, thank you for keeping it real.

i'm glad i forgot to ask for an aisle seat

i'm high up in the sky and stars shoot past my window. big ones that leave a trail of stardust in their wake. and small ones that streak by so fast they seem to be figments of imagination. if i could reach out i may just catch one star, hold it in the palm of my hand...

i'm suspended in time, flying through space, through the black of the night, through constellations that dust the sky like a dream. and i wish you were here. you would have loved the sight. i would have loved the company

the real thing

he was kneeling when he kissed her. her face a picture of calm and peace, belying the surge of emotions that consumed her being. her toes were curled, shivers down her spine. her hands clasped to his, that which held her face gently. urgently. as he kissed her skin.

who knew that after 8 years of keeping a tiny print of gustav klimt´s "the kiss" i´d see the real thing.

home is where the heart is

halfway across the world and no longer in search for my place. while i walk in awe along these beautiful cobbled streets, no longer do i carry the longing that has haunted me for years. for i have found my home. and so have many others. faces that don't quite belong have dwelled in this coast. sometimes it takes thousands of miles to bring us to where our heart is.

life does work in magical ways :)

heart of a nomad

nostomania (nos-tuh-MAY-nee-uh, -mayn-yuh) noun
an overwhelming desire to return home or to go back to familiar places.

interesting what word you can learn in a day. interesting to realize i haven't been nostomanic in a while. and i guess that's how it goes when you've finally found home.

the rains have come. has it been a year? i walk down that path, on a trail of windblown petals, no longer lost in my sadness. some things you have to let go. some you keep. excessively wistful. a sentimental fool. that's me alright. we all have issues. you and i. that doesn't make any of us perfect. but it makes us human.

and that is always a better thing.

my own

it's nice to be alone sometimes. to wake up with filtered sunlight on your face, broken by moving shadows. it's nice to wake up and sleep back to a dreamy thought with only the pillow by your side. a love stained dreamy memory. it's nice to get up in the morning, without anyone pulling you out of bed. to step out with unbrushed and hastily tied hair. to walk along the shore, with no end in sight. just one sleepy morning step at a time. it's nice to move with your memories, to dance with each thought, to smile because knowing is better than wondering. it's nice to rest your mind. to find a moment of calm. to let the heart beat on its own. without hurt, without pride. it's nice to move at your own pace. when the concept of fast or slow does not exist. when today, not yesterday nor tomorrow, is the most beautiful day ever lived.