Monday 01 July 2019
The one true love that
I wish to spend
a lovely lifetime with.
The last love living.
In my lovely lifetime.
Wherever you may be.
I hope you’re looking
Dear Dream Girl,
Regardless of how much I’m agonizing over my little brother’s detachment, I’m moving on.
For I know his heart will light up again in time. I know that he will make sense of my ignorance and fears. I know that he will always guard his ‘little brother throne’. No matter what.
The ‘little brother throne’ of big angel pride and wistful innocence full of life marvels. Though his heart proclamation has caused me astronomic shame. But it has to happen. Something special between us must crash. For a new beautiful wonder to begin. For a fresh new sibling connection. Even for our own personal love quests.
We both have grown up. At the same time. On the same day. Within the heart-awakening moment. In front of my first and last love’s tombstone. Jazzelle’s legacy. To discover strengths hidden in love. Its truths. Its pride.
I’m back in Toronto now. It’s Canada Day! I’ve decided to just explore the whimsical stores around my midtown neighborhood, escaping my thoughts into the festive mood. Cars honking in the middle of ‘patient traffic’, with Canadian flags waving along the way. Moms and dads strolling around with their babies or toddlers. The young and the old sharing mirthful moments on benches. The upbeat millennials touring around with their sleek smiles, window shopping and giggling along with their friends. All this. This precious life spectacle. Happening. Even in the middle of new subway and new building constructions. Don’t you think it’s a heaven’s gift?
My sweet tooth would only kick in on special occasions. And today is the day to indulge. I walk into the ice cream shop and treat myself to a cone full of luscious cookies ‘n cheesecake, though I was hoping for love potion off the flavour chart, but they would only have it on either Valentine’s Day or whenever it nudges up to flavour of the month. No, I’m not disappointed. I’m happy with cookies ‘n cheesecake. It gives me a hopeful hit down into my heart. The hopeful hit. You. As it shakes me into the jarring anticipation of our meeting.
Though I know it is not happening anytime soon. For I still need to work through my internal truths. Shame. Grief. Maybe even spiritual transformation. I know the charming universe would only allow us to unite once all of me has achieved clarity. Once all is well. However, I have already made it clear to you since day one. That you are, and will always be – my dream girl.
My one and only dream girl.
You may not be my first and last love.
But you will always be the one true love.
The Master Missions. Day Nine.
my innate nature
to uncover the worthy.
It keeps me alert
of my new
It grounds me
Here we go, Swoosh!
Black top, rolled up sleeves. Black jeans, free from fashion scratches. Black sneakers, coupled with black socks. Wow. I look at myself in the mirror, and another rousing realization rakes in. This andro style – the simple fire – makes me feel beautiful – all the way!
And it’s Canada Day! What a refreshing whip to flaunt off the new me!
Oops. I beg your pardon. I’m not really flaunting it off. I can’t. That’s not how my fresh principles work.
What it does inside of me is simple:
- It hazes away the worthless.
- It reminds me of one beautiful energy – renewal.
- It spirits me up. Whatever that means.
- It cues me into the authoritative yet insightful voice whispering inside my heart.
- It dies down the old and nonsensical scraps.
- It organizes my thoughts. However it goes.
- It recognizes my limits.
- It calms me down.
- It guards me off from the worldly.
My former peers. Acquaintances. Even some furious romantic liaisons (- who must have cursed my existence after my deliberate exit -). Would probably repulse in shock once they ran into my fresh principles, my fresh pride – my fresh facade. There would be talks, suspicions, assumptions, theories, and maybe even mud-slingings. But who cares? However their minds form logic, it’s how they either perceive themselves or recollect their lack. That goes along with whatever soars out of their tongues.
Whatever they intend to be or have, however they look at others or into the others’ eyes, whichever rush or wave they sway along with, whenever they own up or create conflicts against their emotions, wherever they party at or retreat in, and whoever comes to mind – it is just about what’s skulking out of their truths that they may have been scrapping aside. (Like the old me!) It will always be about them. Whether or not my name is mentioned and thought of. In high regard or mocking throws. It is just about their hidden truths, routing out – in oblivious clicks!
As for me and Swoosh? It’s time to dandy around the neighborhood. The one-way Upper Village. With all its peachy and picturesque establishment areas. With all its delicate life. With all its simplicity. While the ongoing constructions burr through all day long, and even all night. It used to bug the heck out of me. But now – I see it as just another life treat that creates more connections and more vibrance.
Life treat. Say! Let’s go for ice cream!
I hoof into the ice cream shop. I can’t even remember the last time I was here. Oh oh! Right. It was Valentine’s Day. When I ran away from dates – three of them – at once! I got me the love potion to celebrate my victorious escapes! Oh shush! They don’t have it right now. Now what do I want?
Cookies ‘n cheesecake has just caught my taste bud. Let’s settle for that then. And why am I super excited? That’s odd. But – whatever it is –
It’s an absolute done deal!
Tuesday 02 July 2019
Wherever you may be.
I hope you look
at life and love
through your heart’s will,
then life and love
– together –
create magic around you.– Rain
Dear Dream Girl,
My little brother barges through my phone as I’m fixing a cup of coffee and buttered toast for breakfast. “Tell me about Jazzelle,” he says.
“Apricot,” I reply, “you knew her. You spent a lot of time with her. There is nothing to tell anymore.”
“Yes, there is!” he says. “Yes, there is. There is a lot more that I still don’t know about her. And you owe it to me.”
“All right,” I say. “What would you like to know?”
“How did she love you?” he asks. As if his life depends on it.
I’m about to lament like I have never lamented before, but my resilience presses on, though my head starts to whirl, affecting my vision. Things slowly go dim around me. I take a seat at the table as my heartache bleeds out of my tears – quietly. I don’t want him to hear me cry, though I know he can feel it. He knows it. I suppose my resilience is a lie after all. It has lied to me all along. It was only a word sticking inside. Just a comforting word, shrouding over the truth.
“How did Jazzelle love me?” I clear my throat and outdare my grief. “Well – she loved me the way she loved music. The way she read music. The way she played every note, every count, and every intricate detail off the sheets. She loved me the way she loved all church hymns. Because all church hymns, she said, were all about kindness, beauty, and courage. She loved me the way she loved herself. As I was an extension of her heart and soul. She loved me the way she loved laughter. Because laughter meant a good omen that someone’s pain was healing. She loved me the way she loved her family. As my heart was just as delicate and fragile as theirs, so she must make sure it would never get hurt. She loved me the way she loved mornings. As mornings meant seizing new joys. She loved me the way she loved life. Because life meant the most wonderful experience of falling in love – She loved me the way she loved the concept of magic. She said, ‘If only we could look at life and love through our heart’s will, then life and love – together – would create magic around us.’ – And that is how she loved me.”
“How did you know all this?”
“She showed it to me. She made me feel it all. And every night, she would whisper some of it into my ear.”
“She loved you beautifully,” he says.
“She did,” I reply, choking up. “She really did. All the way to the end.” I cut him off right away and –
Grief. Heartaches. Shame. Most of all –
Jazzelle taught me what love was all about. In all its truths! She also taught me how to love. Beautifully!
It was all a preparation. For what was to come.
Your magical intrusion. Our union.
You. My dream girl.
The Master Missions. Day Ten.
I just know that
to this craving demand.
Not on purpose.
But out of my heart’s will.
Like life magic.
Something eerie is leaping out of my appetite.
All organic. The flamboyant greens, the succulent fruits – fresh, nourishing, yum! It’s urging me to go grab them – now!
Swoosh, let’s rack the plants out of a grocery store! Let’s go!
Garden salad, all kinds of salads. With raisins, crushed nuts, cream cheese – invigorate them with a little bit of creamy dressing – and maybe even fresh limes or a squeeze of lemon juice.
The succulent fruits. Chopped. Ready to be popped in. Gobble them down and let them flow into the blood streams.
What else. What else.
Wait. This is scaring me now. Why did I think of naan bread all of a sudden? It never even occurred to me before. I didn’t even think it existed.
Whoa whoa whoa! And the flamboyant greens! And the succulent fruits! It’s all telling me, “That’s it! There is no turning back anymore! The junk must go! Forever! You may try, but your taste buds would fail you!”
What is going on? Sure, yeah, I wanted to stuff my health up with all the nutrients in the world, but not like – this! In crucial calling! I’m trembling, and I’m not even glycemic, for crying out loud!
Let’s not dig up my past appetite anymore.
Uh, well, restaurant raptures, coffee shops, fast foods – Gee. I was such a lazy cow. And I would only eat once a day. And if I would have to munch on something at home, I would cry out of guilt – believing that I had already pigged out! Then I would look at myself in the mirror just to check. If a piece of my body had puffed out all because I felt bloated! Regardless of me being vegetarian! A self-proclaimed vegetarian who would consume junk! Great! There’s my shame! I told you I was a hypocrite!
Swoosh, I am very sorry for neglecting you. For stuffing you up with unhealthy saturated fats and calories. I’m surprised that you can still do your work – pumping up, making sure the blood flow coordinates with the vital organs, keeping me alive!
I guess your unconditional love has been keeping me alive, huh?
Well, it’s about time for me now to take care of you, to keep you healthy and mighty, to make you smile. Because you and I still have a lot of work to do. We still have a lot to learn.
About the magic of life and love.
And it’s an absolute done deal!
Wednesday 03 July 2019
I understand it now.
I know one of my heart’s
Wherever you may be.
I hope you are taking great care
of yourself –
And your heart!– Rain
Dear Dream Girl,
My little brother’s next question has entrapped me into one of my deepest truths. “How did you love her?” he asks.
It is not even a question. It is a cardinal revelation of my love morale. The cardinal revelation that I have never taken the time to reflect on. Especially – while I was with her. While I was beside her deathbed. While I was grieving.
I am getting ready for bed, exhausted from work. Yet my little brother’s personal interrogation about my love past thrashes through my rising mind. I have to face it now. I have to challenge my heart to get me down to the deepest truth. As it is the right time for me to understand what my heart is capable of, how it lives up to love’s expectations, and what it stands for.
“How did I love her?” I reply, sighing. I crawl up in bed and feel my chest. Honesty is coming forward. Another pain of guilt strains through. Remorse is smothered up.
Jazzelle was 8 years older than me. I was 15 when we had come to a mutual understanding. We had to wait until I turned 18 to make our relationship official. I was still a kid, growing up. I was a teenager. Even after my 20th birthday, I was still stuck in the teenage mindset. Though not in a rebellious kind of way. But in an immature and stubborn kind of way. I felt I had to be nurtured and pampered all the time. My needs would have to be met at all given moments. And she would go out of her way to make sure I wouldn’t be disappointed. She spoiled me because it was a part of how I would command love. Not with material and social luxuries. But the luxuries of us doing things together, being in each other’s arms, and just having fun. She gave me all her time as much as she could – because she knew that it would upset me if she didn’t. In between her school work, music, church obligations, family time, then her demanding teaching career – I was always in the way. I would have to be the top priority, and she would also make sure of it. Because she loved me that much. She loved me with all her heart.
And then it happened one morning.
Her physical body gave up. I had to rush her to the hospital, though she had been feeling sick for months, and she would just ignore it. I brushed it off, too, because she felt confident that it would go away in time, though it would keep on bothering me that I couldn’t even sleep anymore.
When the doctor divulged the news to us, my heart – CRUSHED!!! I stopped existing for her. Instead of us creating more beautiful moments together, I would rather cry – beside her, in her arms, wrapping her frail body around me, afraid to let go, afraid to do anything else, afraid of everything! I was already grieving before she even took her last breath. Yet she would still find ways to nurture my heart – with the little time she had left. The night before she died, she whispered to me, “You will find her. And she will love you more than I ever do. Because you are very special.”
As my heart releases one of its deepest truths, I mourn – OUT LOUD!!! And my little brother languishes in sorrowful silence for a moment, then his sniffles and suppressed throathy cracks zephyr on the line. He weeps along.
He already knows the answer.
And after all these years, I have just unraveled the most painful truth of my heart’s existence.
The Master Missions. Day Eleven.
To take great care of myself.
To take great care of you.
Because I love you just
as much as you love me.
We make time for each other.
We understand each other’s
strengths and weaknesses.
We comfort and nurture
each other that way.
Swoosh! I love you! I love you! I love you!
Look! Hmm. This garden salad is so scrumptious that the rest of the world turns into a blurring subsistence. What do you think, huh? Are you proud of me yet? You love it, don’t you?
After ravishing this down, we are going for a walk. No. We’re not going for a jog. That’s too much. I don’t want to strain you. Well, maybe once in a while. Once you feel like it. Because I know you just want us to go for a lively walk right now.
Just sayin’! I’m just following your commands here! Don’t tempt me to conceive more physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual prompts yet. We have to enjoy this garden salad first.
Nom nom nom nom nom!
We also have to do something about my skinny – everything! This is horrendous! So this is one of the physical privileges that I used to brag about? Depriving myself of good food. Feeling guilty over munching nuts. Exhausting my concerns with – weight, how I looked, what fashion style to parade on – all the absurd showcases that this society has corrupted me into! Embarrassing!
Wait a minute. Why do I still have to whine about it, anyway? I have already moved on! There is no need for me to waste my time and energy grumbling about the old me anymore! But –
I suppose realization is the gateway to release after all!
Swoosh, stop it. Don’t push it yet. We’re not learning meditation yet. One at a time! Gee! I can’t keep up with you!
How in the name of god did you even survive despite all my selfish default storms? And all of a sudden, here you are kicking my butt!
I am in love with our life!
Let’s keep it going!
And it’s an absolute done deal!
Thursday 04 July 2019
Now I have to teach myself
my own love truths
based on my own truths.
I have to untangle
my interwoven heart. First.
Wherever you may be.
I hope you already have clarity.
Of your own love truths.
Dear Dream Girl,
I woke up with bulgy red eyes this morning as I succored to the residual tears of grief after the preeminent phone conversation with my little brother last night.
Though I have to be honest, I am not entirely free from it yet. The reeking remorse is still squeezing my heart and soul tightly. The grief will always haunt me around, like a dark smokey silhouette slinking everywhere I turn, ready to streak itself down into my chest. I can’t suppress it any longer. I can’t ignore the truth anymore either. It’s easy for me to give in now. And it may happen at any moment.
How could I have misled myself? How could I have made myself believe that the only pain that was in the way was coming out to my family? How could I have lied to you?
I have been living in an illusion. The illusion of how easy it is to fix my heart. The illusion of how desperate I have been to meet you when I still don’t know how to let go of my grief. The illusion of being with my one true love for a lovely lifetime.
I have been deceiving you since the first day. Since you have shimmered in my mind. I may have even been using you as a form of escape. So childish, selfish, and immature of me to bask in it. Such fantasy. To comfort my life. Like an assuaging snuggle full of faith and assurance. That all is well. Or it will simply go away by itself. Because your image is supposed to work that way. Like magic. Promised by the vision. Your magical intrusion.
However, there is a beautiful flicker of hope in my heart that I can’t dismiss. I think ‘hope’ sounds weak and inappropriate. As the beautiful flicker feels real. That you are real. That whatever mystery that flares along with it is real enough for me to believe that you truly do exist. Somewhere around in this world, in this country, or even around the city – the beautiful flicker enthuses around my heart – that it is all real.
I must believe in the beautiful flicker. I know it’s in there to light up my way. To get to you. To meet you. For our hearts to unite.
Though I know I have to heal more. I have to forgive myself first. I have to feel and work around my truths and all the love truths. It may take a long while. But I know – somewhere around my truths – somewhere – they will merge with the love truths.
Jazzelle taught me her own love truths, and I have just recently come to face them with a ray of understanding. Along with my little brother’s sagacious judgment.
The Master Missions. Day Twelve.
Love and happiness stones!
How come all the happiness stones
glitz along with love?
Swoosh! Look at this! Here! Come and take a look!
Here I am checking myself out in the mirror. Yes, the andro style with the black-all-the-way strike makes me feel stunning – inside and outside. But – yeah, I know. There shouldn’t be a ‘but babble’ anymore. But guess what? It’s a jolt from you. Not from my spasmodic self – there’s still something missing. Mmm. I don’t know. What do you think? What would you suggest? Since you’re the one shooting the ‘missing’ splice here.
What kind? I’m not buying an unconscionable one – just because. Oh yeah. That’s right. The jewelry box is still hidden away in the dresser, glinting off. Because I have no desire to wear those hollow stones anymore. They were just a dingbat of my society status plea drama.
I need a stone that stimulates life. With a blissful spark attached to it. That whenever I put it on, the blissful spark transcends along with how much I love and respect myself. That whenever I feel it in my hand, it brings a smile to my face, as the old me heals on. Because renewal means a journey of more beautiful discoveries. Of who I am. Of what I want out of this life. Of my truths.
It is not about being ego-maniac at all. I apologize for my defensive set off. But the idea of wearing a necklace with a one of a kind stone that speaks of happiness and self-love is like a magical connection with my infinite worth. It may be an impulse. Or a subconscious push. I can’t even get down to the bottom of it myself. Though I know – I just know – that I have to have it!
Okay, Swoosh! Show it to me! What kind of necklace fits into the category?
God forbid, I feel so desperate!
Research research research! This is when we should be grateful for modern technology. All right, world wide web. Show me your wonder!
Happiness stone. Tata!
Whaat??? Wait. Oh my – for the love of –
Crystals! For happiness and positivity!
Love and happiness! It’s all over! That’s just what they’re showing me here! You have got to be kidding me!
Welcome to the wonder of world wide web. The wonder of slamming one of my subconscious truths right through my computer screen. No, Swoosh! Don’t make me do the rundown now! That’s a whole lot of rundown! We’ve got to have a meditative dialogue here. I don’t understand why your necklace jolt has led me to this.
No! Not yet! Let’s not go dramatic over it yet! Let’s just look for a perfect necklace – the magical stone. The happiness stone. The – the – Gee. Okay okay! You win!
The love and happiness stone!
And it’s an absolute done deal!
Friday 05 July 2019
All that should be left is –
Hope patting me on the back.
I feel its presence now.
And it makes me smile.
Wherever you may be.
I hope something beautiful.
Makes you smile.
Dear Dream Girl,
Reflection. My inner truths.
What do they look like? What colors are they? What do they make me do? How do they make me feel? How do they influence my decisions? How do they lead my life?
I am ignorant about myself. I bet you, my family knows me better than I do. Jazzelle would know the most.
What do they look like?
They look like moths fluttering their way to flames. For they only understand the value of light. Not its danger. Just like when I fell in love with Jazzelle. Or when I left home to heal. And when you revealed yourself to me in my mind.
What colors are they?
Black and white. Polarity. Darkness and illumination. Fear and faith. Unknown and known. Hidden and exposed. Storm and peace. Just like releasing my grief and welcoming happiness in. Or finding forgiveness and hanging on to hope of our meeting.
What do they make me do?
They make me confront all my beliefs. No matter how frightening they may be. Beautiful and bad. The betrayals rise above. Just like keeping Jazzelle’s memories and allowing my heart to lie to you.
How do they make me feel?
Unworthy. I don’t believe I have ever done something meaningful in my life. Not even when I was with Jazzelle. Because I failed her. For my definition of love was selfish, impatient, and unkind. Our age gap should not be at fault at all. I should have shown more heartfelt concerns. Instead of throwing tantrums over the ‘now moments’.
How do they influence my decisions?
Through acceptance. I have accepted all my wrongs, my greatest loss and grief, my weaknesses, the grim fate, and the sad possibility of never-ending sorrow. Having this much courage to accept it all motivates me to move forward and believe in your magical intrusion.
How do they lead my life?
I have to face it one day at a time. Once grief cuts through my heart, I have to cry out the pain. Once blame battles itself in, I have to find a way as to how to shield myself with forgiveness. Once hope pats me on the back, I have to feel its presence and smile.
Reflection. These are my inner truths. Moths, black and white, confronted beliefs, unworthiness, acceptance – faced one day at a time.
Because when you revealed yourself to me in my mind, it was a sign that I should find forgiveness and hang on to hope of our meeting. Keeping Jazzelle’s memories is my delightful right, and my heart doesn’t have the right to lie to you no matter what. The ‘now moments’ must be patient and kind. Courage born out of acceptance motivates me to move forward –
- and believe in your magical intrusion.
The Master Missions. Day Thirteen.
“How will I know I’m ready?”
“Once your heart’s desires disappear,
and you’re just happy
going about your life.
Swoosh! Which necklace are you smiling at?
The blue wing or the light pink one? C’mon! Help me pick! This Metaphysical shop possesses a magnetic pull, alarming my energy shocks! Though the energy shocks feel light and peaceful as if I have been shipped off to the most divine spring garden in the world.
Okay okay. Let’s not travel our thoughts all the way down to Asia anymore. Halifax will do. Yeah. Home. Gee. How long has it been since? A long time. A very agonizing long time. Our family affair has just been laying around all corners, whimpering away.
Oh my goodness, Swoosh! I have been proud and heartless! I have been – Oh please! Forgive me! No no. This is not the time yet. Please, don’t squeak now! Don’t! Not here! We’re in public! Don’t make me hawk my eyes out with Niagara Falls tears! NOT YET!!! I swear to god!!!
“What do you hope for?” the Metaphysical shop associate asks.
“Um,” I tremble, “well – it’s – uh -”
“Your eyes say you’re hoping for love and happiness,” she assumes.
Swoosh! This is so arcane! Very arcane! “Y-yeah. That’s it.”
“Then I’d recommend rose quartz.”
“This light pink wing one?”
“Yes. Would you want to grab two? Keep the other one for your future love and happiness, then give it to him once your hearts unite?”
“Her. I’m gonna give it to her. Once our hearts unite.”
She smiles. “Her. Even more beautiful.”
“Yeah!” I giggle, amused. “No offense to the straight society!”
“It’s not even about that at all. Because it’s totally up to us as to how to make the world even more beautiful. All we need to do is accept our own beauty and discover more of it within ourselves. Anything that feels right and lovely must be acted upon. And that’s what makes the world even more beautiful.”
“And you have just articulated it out in one simple thought, like sunshine.”
“Thank you. I don’t mean to pry – but – have you met her yet?”
“Not yet. And honestly, I don’t even believe I ever would. I’ve still got a lot of -”
“Transformation to work through?”
“Y-yeah. How did you know?”
“Seldom do we encounter customers who walk in here out of plain curiosity. Most of them don’t just walk in. They visit on purpose. Out of that purpose is inspired by an awakening. They go through transformation. They look for answers and help. They may not know the cause yet, but they know that they’re being guided. Because all things are connected. This is why we have a famous belief that everything happens for a reason. Your reason, your transformation, anything that you have been going through, it has all led you to one cause – hoping for love and happiness. Now that you have uncovered the cause, accept it and get to work. And she will then synchronize with your heart once you’re ready.”
Swoosh! I think we better wham back into our family affair instead! After purchasing these two rose quartz necklaces!
And it’s an absolute done deal!
Saturday 06 July 2019
All this. For me.
For my truths.
For my love truths.
then our hearts
Wherever you may be.
I hope you have already
fallen in love.
With your self-worth.– Rain
Dear Dream Girl,
A religion. A spiritual practice. A spiritual teaching. A spiritual habit. No matter how you look at it, it’s all just based on one fundamentally empowering principle formed out of a founder’s personal spiritual experience. If it is practiced mindfully and wholeheartedly, it has achieved its purpose. If the practice is shared and shown conscientiously, it has drawn its consecrated mark in its lands. If its practice spreads kindness and all its beauty, it has created healing and simple joys. A believer’s life sails on with serenity, love and happiness.
The serenity of heart and mind. The love for all creations – humans, nature, animals, the world, and the charming universe. The happiness of being born and having the opportunity to experience it all.
I left my family’s religion behind.
As soon as I landed in Toronto, I made a firm decision. A life-altering decision. To experience it all. The serenity of heart and mind. The love for all creations. The happiness of being here. Just being here. Yet along with it, I programmed myself to live in lies. For I believed it was my only way to heal. I convinced all my beliefs, I was moving on. I had moved on. There was no need to grieve anymore. I had done nothing wrong. I would simply nurture whatever it was that brought me content. It was all that mattered. Feeling content. The neutral route. Free from tears. Though depression would tempt itself in. While in the state of calmness. But it never won. As work would catch me away.
I learned my own spiritual practice. The spiritual practice of moving on. Being calm. Focusing on nothingness. Pretending. Rushing at times. Indulging in the meaningless: movies that could never change a fragment of my life, travels to enchanting places that never reconciled with my truths, and even fiction books that could never provoke my moral and love integrity.
Today I have made another firm decision. To achieve the serenity of heart and mind, I am allowing myself to grieve and rekindle Jazzelle’s memories at given moments. To love all creations, I will connect and integrate. To be happy, I will fall in love with myself and my self-worth.
Though I have to be honest with you, the hardest part of it all is how to fall in love with myself and my self-worth.
The Master Missions. Day Fourteen.
Because I have come to
feel my existence.
My special existence.
The happy truths
of who I am and
who I would like
to deserve love
So I can’t wear the necklace until it’s charged?
Swoosh, what do they mean by charging it with intention? All right. Let’s take this calmly. Inhale. Exhale. Oh oh. Right. We’ve got to do this – the yogi way.
Sit in meditation posture. Slam the bum on the floor. Throw legs together. Crossed. Hold the necklace in between palms. Eyes closed. Again. Breathe in. Breathe out. Slowly. Clear the mind. Clear it really good. Clear – clear – clear – Forget the world – Forget the past – Forget the future – Stay in the moment. Stay in the mind. Stay in the heart. Just stay – stay – stay – In a happy feeling. Passionate. Enthusiastic. Calm. Very calm.
Swoosh, is this witchcraft?
God! I was only asking! You’ve got me into this! I’m doing it! I’m doing it! Stop yelling!
Now my meditation has just been disturbed. Contaminated by your temperament. Stop smacking me away each time I’m questioning your surreptitious shifts here.
Okay. Let’s do it again.
Eyes closed. Breathe in. Breathe out. Clear the mind. Stay in the happy feeling. All the happy feelings. And smile.
Smile at myself. Smile at love and happiness. Smile at the beautiful surprises of transformation.
Somehow I have already met my beauty, my self-worth, my heart’s desires. I have fallen in love with myself and my life. There’s still a lot more that I have to meet and fall in love with. A lot more to understand.
Love and happiness. Two beautiful words to dream up and experience at once. The cause of it all. The transformation. Concocted by the validation of my worldly magnificence. It’s a mystery. Yet it is meant to be. And it never stops moving, working its ways, and orchestrating. It will never stop until the other heart is found. My other wing.
Charging the necklace is just a motivational act. It has nothing to do with the object at all. Neither does it have any inclination to perform magic. Because the magic happens within the act itself. How it compels me to believe its truth. But the truth, my truth, moves inside of me. Inspired by the thoughts of what the necklace stands for. Love and happiness.
Found in my heart. Offered to myself. By me.
Family awaits. Home awaits.
All the love and happiness. The innocence. Its innocent pride. From childhood to rebellious stages. It never budged. For once.
Swoosh, I’m turning on the waterworks! I’m breaking down! Big time! With massive sloshes! My chest is clogged up, squalling out pain, remorse, and shame!
How could I turn my back on them? How could I – !!!
And – oh!!! My sister!!! Her heart!!! Her precious heart!!!
Swoosh, let’s go for a major home visit!
And it’s an absolute done deal!
Sunday 07 July 2019
I have found a piece
of my self-worth.
I have also found
a new friend.
And I will be a dear friend
to him as well.
Wherever you may be.
I hope you have also
found a friend.
A mystical one.
Who can show you
a beautiful piece.
Of who you are.– Rain
Dear Dream Girl,
Why did Jazzelle fall in love with me?
I had never had the chance to ask her this question as it would have been vain of me to do so. In good faith, I’m grateful that I didn’t. As the answer should have come from me instead. No other.
I study my reflection in the mirror. Physical beauty. Beautiful long red hair. Beautiful face. Beautiful smile. Would I fall in love with me only because of what I see? Delusive! No.
I didn’t just fall in love with Jazzelle because of her stunning features. I fell in love with her transcendent entirety. How her sole presence would put smiles on people’s faces, how she would offer help to those in need, how she spoke with kindness and sincerity, how she would pacify a child’s cry, how she impacted youths’ hearts and minds, how she laughed, how she cared for all creatures and wondered about their happy days, how she would be mesmerized by nature, how she valued love, how enthralled she was by the power of music, how she would find answers to some of the world’s questions, and how she would pause to admire strangers’ captivating moments – whether it was a father playing basketball with his son or an elderly lady talking to her garden.
I might have adapted most of it myself as professed by my little brother’s term of endearment for me, ‘Big Angel’. However, Jazzelle was the more honorable one. She will always be. In my heart. In everybody’s heart.
Before I would indulge in the enigma of falling in love with myself, I have to discover my self-worth first.
And it’s a wonderful day for a walk.
I saunter down upper village plaza, investigating life. The amiable interactions, the fanciful shops and restaurants, the flowers, the occupied benches, and even the busy construction workers. Then I see him.
Almost everyday, I catch sight of him. He sits on a footrest in front of a store. This has always been his favorite spot. He must be in his mid-40s, about 5’11 tall. Chubby, kind eyes, dishevelled, black. I have spotted him engaging in fun conversations with passers-by numerous times before. Maybe they weren’t even casual passers-by. Maybe they live around the area, too. And he has been a beloved permanent fixture. And after all these years, this would have to be the first time that I would pause to acknowledge him face to face, though I would drop some spare change into his cup each time I would happen to walk by. Now the spare change doesn’t have much value. Getting a glimpse of who he is overawes me more.
I approach him. “Hello, sir. How are you doing today?”
He perks up and smiles. “Hey! Good. Good. I’m good. And what about you?”
“Wonderful,” I reply.
“Good!” he says. “And it’s also a wonderful day to meditate. Om. Om. Om. I bet you do that, don’t ya?”
“Not really. I pray. I guess it’s kind of the same thing.”
“It’s kind of the same. Except when you meditate, it’s more of a – conversation within yourself about yourself. Then you discover something alarming or something nice. But when you pray – oh, let me tell ya how my grandma would kick my butt every night for it – when you pray – How do you pray, by the way? ‘Cause when I pray, I pray to my dead loved ones. I pray to grandma and to my mum. ‘Cause I figure they’re already up there, wherever they are, in heaven or wherever. I figure they already know everything there is to know. Like God and all. So a piece of them had already become like God. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to connect through them instead. It makes me feel better, actually.”
It has left me dumbfounded for a moment. “Why does it make you feel better?”
“Because mum died when she gave birth to me,” he says. “Grandma raised me, and she passed on when I was 12. And I didn’t do well under foster care. I was always depressed and sad. And this is how my life turned out. It’s my fault because I could have chosen a better life myself. I went to school and all that. I still study every now and then. I like reading a lot. I go to the library to read. Every morning. Even before coffee. And that’s my happy time.”
Now my heart has sunk into a complete embarrassment. “What’s your name, sir?”
“David,” he replies. “And what’s your name?”
“Why, you have such a beautiful name!”
“Why are you sad?”
“What makes you think I’m sad?”
“I feel it. So why are you sad? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I step closer. “Well, David. I’m looking for my self-worth. Would you happen to know where I can find it?”
He sticks his chin up and grins. “Right here, Rain. Right here.”
The most heartfelt and desired answer. Has been given to me by the conspicuous stranger. A homeless man. Alone. Bright eyed and bright soul. Sensible mind. His treasures – old memories, praying to his dead loved ones, studying and reading, getting to know beyond the faces, and caring.
“What’s your greatest wish, David?”
“I wish for something good to happen everyday. Like this. Having a talk with a nice person. Or a kid waving and saying hello to me. I don’t worry much about money – because people’s outpouring love gets me a combo meal by the end of the day. I’m already happy with just 10 bucks. But my greatest wish is to visit my grandma and mum’s graves in Manitoba. And who knows? Something wonderful would happen to me after that. Like something in my life would change. Like I would finally wake up from this. Or I would probably run into an old friend. My one and only friend. Who knows?”
The Master Missions. Day Fifteen.
It is never between me and my family.
It is never between me and the lifetime dream.
It is never between me and the women that I have hurt.
It has always been between the deepest heart intentions and ego!
Swoosh, I miss them. Terribly.
A sluice of yearning for mom’s cooking. The earnest guffaws that dad and I shared. And then –
There she was. Born 20 years later of my sublime life. Born outside of the family blood. Whose biological young mother gave her away. Mom and dad, bless their hearts, took her in soon after they heard the heartbreaking news. The adoption process went smoothly as if it had been a godly intent. The baby was in their arms months later, and home was cradled with sprightly atmosphere right away. Even more sprightly than when I was with them. Or so I felt.
No. I wasn’t jealous. Not at all. I was ecstatic for mom and dad that they had found a new joy as I entered adulthood.
I adored my sister, and I never addressed her as an adoptive sibling. I wouldn’t. She is and will always be my sister. There is no other way to define it.
We share the same parents who love us both equally. She was raised with the same values as I did. She grew up to be smart, beautiful, decent, loving, and kind. She was spoiled in a way that shaped her character. Taking pride in her name. Our family name.
I babysat her, and we would spend a lot of time together. She loved me so much that she would throw tantrums whenever I would have to leave. Until I realized how much our connection grew among the angels. It scared me away that I decided to lessen my visits while cultivating my anarchistic side.
Being free. Being me. Being with girls.
Behind my family’s back. Behind my family’s expectations. Behind it all.
So I left home.
To spare my parents’ hearts. To spare my sister from the truth. To spare us all from getting hurt.
My sister can fulfill our parents’ wishes. Professional achievements. Finding a good man to marry. Settling down in the same neighborhood. Having kids. Everything about family. Becoming one as a whole. Completeness. Home. Love. Happiness. Living the dream life.
How could I ever look them in the eye?
Physical distance has comforted me somehow. Emotional distance has shattered my relationships into a haywire crust. Mental distance has imprisoned me into a blustering literary aspirant.
Though I would make time to keep in touch. Forced. Suppressed. Insincere. As I couldn’t get myself to come up with another lie anymore. Fake boyfriends. Fake romantic drama. Fake heart breaks. And this would have to be constant and consistent. Because if a fake heterosexual relationship would last for a year, or even just for a few months long, then they would insist to meet ‘my man’ who never even existed. It has drained me all the way that I would come up with ‘I’m busy’ excuses. And yet it has conked me out a lot more.
I have been trapped!
I must escape! Now!
Swoosh, this is the clarity. I have been fighting against myself!
The validation of my worldly magnificence woke me up from ego to honor the deepest heart intentions, leading to the instantaneous transformation. To meet the master of beauty.
Found in my deepest heart intentions.
To be with my family. To show my sister how much I have always loved her. To meet myself again. The old values. The old beautiful values. My character. My love and happiness.
Swoosh! Let’s bless our beauty with a good walk!
I’m still fazed over the thought of appreciating the buoyancy of the construction workers. Upper village is like a rainbow. A calm, timid, bewitching rainbow. And I can even see their own treasures in their faces.
I’ve talked to him a few times before. Well, not exactly a ‘talk’. It’s a bypass talk. Like – ‘Hey, how are you doing?’ ‘Have a nice day!’ ‘Weather seems to cooperate!’ ‘Time to hit the facility!’ ‘I’m good!’ ‘What’s your name?’ ‘It’s nice to meet you!’
I waltz into the coffee shop and grab a full combo meal. Sandwich, donuts, and large coffee. And I rush away to hand it to him. “Here you go, Dave.”
His face lights up with all the treasures in the world. “Bless you, Ash. Bless you. Oh joyful joyful! I’m all set for the day. Now I can go back to the library.”
“What are we learning this time?” I ask.
“The power of the mind,” he replies. “How it grants wishes.”
“Interesting. I’d love to learn that, too. Has it granted some of your wishes yet?”
“Yeah! This! And it’s more than what I’ve asked for!”
“Do you have a greatest wish, at least?”
“I’ve been asked that same question before. A little while ago. This angel turned up, a very nice woman, a very beautiful woman – So she turned up from out of nowhere, and then we got into a nice conversation, and she said she was looking for her self-worth, and I told her it was right here, and I knew right there and then that she would be my friend forever whether I’d still see her again or not. Just like you. You’re also my friend forever. I saw your sincere heart when you wanted to know what my name was. So then I knew that we’d be friends forever. Whether or not I’d still see you around.”
I smile. “I am your friend forever, Dave. So what’s your greatest wish, by the way?”
“Go back to Manitoba and visit my grandma and mum’s graves, and run into an old friend,” he says. “What’s your greatest wish?”
My greatest wish. Is for his greatest wish to come true!
And it’s an absolute done deal!