simmering

like a cauldron bubbling
not so much trouble
but maybe a potful of delight and dreams

The year of true paths is winding towards an end. So much have been learned, most in very painful ways. But I am still here, surviving the consequences of choices and random acts of courage.

There have been losses in so many ways. My head still reels when memory marches before me a string of small tragedies and disappointments and failures long enough to strangle the breath out of anyone with a weaker spirit.

But yes, I believe my spirit is much stronger than it ever was.

As this year ends what is left is clarity.  It has swept through every aspect of my life and shooed away the shadows, forcing me to see.

I end this year better than I ended last year. In a manner of speaking. It is all a matter of perspective. I choose to see it as better.

do more happy

Yes, yes, I should be working not sneaking another blog post.

But this particular project I am working on has been triggering all my inner alarms. It has even led me directly into an old Evernote entry where I made a first attempt to craft my Life Purpose according to Jack Canfield's Success Principles plus a host of other inspirational books.

My first attempt was true but trying too hard. It was unwieldy.

This time's attempt is clearer and it gave me that feeling of rightness.

And here it is : MY PURPOSE IS TO USE MY CREATIVITY AND IMAGINATION TO INSPIRE PEOPLE WITH STORIES AND IMAGES IN ORDER TO ENCOURAGE AN AUTHENTIC LIFE LIVED WITH MEANING AND MAGIC.

And you know what, it starts with the very example of my own life. Which brings me back as to why my inner alarms were sounding so loud. The path that I have been considering is not one that makes me feel happy or fulfilled. My logical mind can argue for its financial benefits but not much else. There is admirable leadership within that path but the day-to-day realities that will impact most on myself, my sanity, my purpose, are where the not-too-happy feeling is coming from.

A dear friend called me up from Indonesia the other day and she has given me a lot of good advice to think about. But one important thing she made me realize is appreciation for the amazingness that is my life right now. It may not pass social standards of a typical successful life but it does pass for the many people who have expressed their desire to be able to do what I did -- to take the captain's wheel of my life and navigate it through a temperamental sea. To be willing to throw so many things overboard. To leave the safe harbor.

It has not been an easy journey. I will admit that there were many many times I considered heading back to shore. 

But then every morning there is a beautiful sun that rises from the horizon, turning the water around me into gold.

loose ends, full circles

At Hong Kong, February 2012, before the retreat.
Photos belatedly, yet also timely, shared by a sempai.
My hair was so short!

It is the last month of the year. Soon enough I will be scrambling to put together some kind of year-end summary blog post on what this year had brought me.

For this post I wish to lay to resolution one thing that had hovered around me like a hungry vulture.

I had started out 2012 highly optimistic. A quarter of the way through, something gave on a part of my life that left me broken-hearted in so many ways. In March of this year, I decide to take time off from my kendo, needing time to heal and sort out my heart and my spirit.

Things built up through the four and a half years I have been practicing, starting out nice and sweet like all good intentions usually do, and then somehow not surviving the random tests that the Universe threw to poke at their authenticity. I had my failings and my failures. What made them more painful was the realization that there were also people who failed me. It would not have hurt so much if the way it happened was like a clean strike that left no doubt of its intention to slice through a hand, eviscerate, or cleave one in half. But it happened in subtle stabs and little sabotages, leaving  no evidence behind, no witnesses. By the time I realized I was wounded and losing too much blood, I was too weak. It became a time when kendo brought out the worst in me and also made me feel the worst about myself. I discovered reservoirs of hate, anger, resentment, jealousy, and other unpleasant things hidden within myself. I came to kendo hoping to learn calm and peace in the midst of adversity and I learned the opposite.

It was not just the practice of kendo, although that in itself was already a challenge that consumed every ounce of my courage. It was the the little things around it that when you gather them together could be as dangerous and damaging as a Portuguese man o' war. The things on the side that most people dismiss and take in stride. But I came to the dojo with all heart and took things too seriously perhaps, trusted too easily. Now I know oh so much better.

Yesterday, after more than eight months of absence and avoidance, I went back to the dojo. I wanted to see what I would feel, if I still wanted to come back, if I could bear to come back.

Here's a very useful advice: staying away for a good chunk of time does help. A lot. Never ever underestimate the value of a retreat, in all its shades of meaning. There will always be a time when it is the best thing you could ever do for yourself.

(During my retreat I had: written a novel, redecorated my home, painted a lot, redesigned my career, read too many books)

As I walked towards the dojo,  I could feel my heartbeat becoming erratic. Two-thirds of the way my fingertips were as cold as ice and I had to breathe through my mouth.

I came in when the session had started so I would not have to talk to anybody, and I stepped out during the break for the same reason. But one thing that the retreat had brought me was clarity. As well as the calmness of distance. That clarity was completed when I was inside the dojo with the reality of everything and everyone in it. That clarity guided me, and then finally, I knew what to do, what to say, and knew not to care if I, in turn, be the cause of hurt or disappointment. I have been making too many allowances for others, I think it's time I take mine. As the wife of the club president had told me while she was convincing me to come back, "Everyone is selfish."  She has a very good point.

There were other things that unfolded that evening, very close to my ever vulnerable heart, but already tangential to my kendo practice. One thing I have decided though, I will return to practice next week, and see where that leads me, armed with my new clarity and gifted with a new shade of courage (I hope!)

Eight months ago I truly believed I will never return. There were many things I believed were hopeless eight months ago. Maybe a few more will prove me wrong.

Dinner after practice
December 2012, after the retreat
Love my long hair now

What things have turned around for you lately?

where i am

"…just start where you are. It's a luxury to be in the mood to write. It's a blessing but it's not a necessity. Writing is like breathing, it's possible to learn to do it well, but the point is to do it no matter what."
- Julia Cameron

I have made up countless rules for myself in order to write. Conditions that I somehow believed to be prerequisites to writing. I have this illusion of a perfect piece of work emerging only when these conditions are met. For instance, the house must be clean and in order so that my own thoughts will be in order. There must be a huge chunk of free time stretched out ahead of me so I will not feel rushed or pressured. I must not be disturbed in any way. The temperature in the room must be just so, not too hot, not too cold. It must be early in the day so I will feel like my writing is fresh like the morning sun. There must not be any work to be done after, no errands, no obligations. Meals must be satisfying but not exhausting nor time-consuming to prepare. Also, the dishes must somehow be magically washed away or else the sight of a full dirty sink will distract from the writing.

Needless to say, trying to meet all of these conditions means that no writing is ever done. Five days would have passed and I would still be planning and preparing to write.

The paper must be smooth. The pen must be perfect. The ink must be an exact shade of turquoise.

Handwritten is better than typing. I should wait until my fingers lose their stiffness from playing too much Assassin's Creed. I must not be sleepy, so it will be better if I lay down for a few minutes and took a nap.

I must finish all the items on my to-do list for the day before I can write. Or else all those to-dos will keep on marching back and forth before me on the blank pages.

All the fuss and all the nitpicking for the perfect time to write. Yet all I have to do is to sit down and to write. Ignore everything else. Write as if everything else depended on it. Write for fifteen minutes. Even for five minutes. In five days that would have already been almost half an hour of writing compared to no writing because the windows needed a curtain change.

I have created for myself little superstitions that make writing like some kind of a Holy Grail. I am sabotaging my own path to the creative life I am craving for.

Today I take a burning torch and burn it all away. The rules, the conditions, the excuses. The distractions, the hidden desire for instant perfection, the reluctance to begin for fear of never finishing.

Today I will steal time to write, and to make art, and I will do it every single day from here on. No, I will claim time, for it is the desire of my heart and the calling of my spirit.

Because really, what is it that I dream of, achingly, as I go to bed every night?

To be a writer and an artist, a creator and a crafter.

Then I must live it. Become what I want by doing. To cease all pretense at preparation, to crush every ounce of fear and brew it for courage. To leap into the void of blankness, of possibility, and to make things happen. To make my life happen. To make me happen.

one day at a time

Many things are overwhelming me these days. Until I reminded myself to take it one day at a time, one step at a time. We all get to where we need to go just by focusing on what is before us at the moment. That is all we can do, really. That is all we can control for now.

Today we bought our very first sewing machine and got our first lessons from our aunt. We managed to make a crooked placemat and we could not wait to make more (but less crooked). There are still a lot of things to buy and things to do on the list but we did all that can be done for today. We did not waste any time.

I was also pleased to feel the support and help of our parents. I know that my dad has long been skeptical of us surviving on our own business but today he has been extra helpful and even gave a few suggestions. We are still very much at the embryo stage of what my sister and I are trying to achieve but we just do our best to focus on what can be done each day. We cannot let ourselves be disheartened by thoughts of being such late bloomers or being poor or feeling inadequately skilled. Things will change accordingly as we fuel what we do with faith and passion.

Tonight we also finally got to fixing the tiny studio space that was allotted for us in our parents' home. We still need a few pieces of storage and furniture but it is already looking cozy and beginning to feel like an inspired space.

Keeping calm and sewing on.