Happy 4th Birthday Veronica!

Kinda weird to think back at how drastically my life has changed over the past four years. There have definitely been some crests and valleys; few things have remained constant during that period of time. One of them has been my love for you and how you've brought immense, indescribable joy to me, just by being there.

<3 <3 <3

Happy Birthday Veronica! I wish you a joyful, fun-filled princessy day :) I love you very much.

A Conversation On Post-It Notes.

This weekend, my mom is coming home from a 2-month stay in the Philippines, where she took care of some family business. The passage below was originally written and posted 12 October 2008 on another blog, but I wanted to repost here in an effort to commemorate how much she has been missed.

Nay went through some successful oral surgery about a week ago, and thankfully her road to recovery has been steady and unmarred with complications. As a result though, she's been in some post-op pain, with some swelling and a general inability to speak. So for the time being, most of our communication has been in short bursts written down on Post-It notes accompanied by amusing hand-fluttering and waving, punctuated by formless exclamations. For much of the week she's been awake, alert and seems relatively fine, but this afternoon she had a pretty serious episode of nausea and headache and had to retire early to my parents' bedroom -- leaving my dad to labor cautiously to finish the chicken and pasta meals she left simmering on the stove and checking in on her every few minutes.

Shortly afterward, I was studying for my midterms in the dining room when my dad informed me that she wanted to talk to me, so I went in and sat down in a chair beside the bed. Although it reads like the conversation took only a few seconds, it lasted several minutes due to the fact that she had to write down her responses and questions. [Edit: I found the notes the next morning as I was getting ready for class. Since she'd written a recipe for my dad to follow on the same pages, I just copied her words on my own paper for transcription into this entry.]

write your heart out

She jotted down Stay for a minute pls?

"Sure -- let me go get my book and highlighter. I'll sit with you for a minute." I left and came back with my study materials a few seconds later. I thought she just wanted someone to hang out in the room with her, which was fine with me, but she started writing slowly on her pad.

I love you anak. You have not disappointed me -- magaling ka at mabait -- tutularan ka ng mga kapatid mo¹. Sorry for my hurting you in the past. Hindi rin kita na-guide ng husto at tama². I pray you will be mentally healthy.

I was surprised. "No ... it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

I feel bad for doing what I had done to you and your siblings. Marami ka pa bang naalala na mali kong ginawa?³

Again, I said no. Even though I wasn't sure where this was going, it was definitely an important moment.

Pag meron pa, sabihin mo sa akin freely para hindi ka nagagalit ng sobra⁴. You are and you could always be better.

"No Mom, it's fine. I'm not angry with anyone. It's okay." Well, this was only 90% true -- the only person I'm mad at most of the time is myself.

Thank you anak -- kung bababa ang BP ko tutulungan kitang mag-review. Anak, tapos na ang one minute⁵. Thank you for staying.

I looked up after reading this last part and saw that she was crying softly. At first I didn't understand why she wanted to bring up something like this. I just thought she wanted to bond with me a little and open up a line of communication about an issue she obviously felt was unresolved. It's true though -- I'm not angry at her for how my life has turned out. It definitely isn't perfect and I have several problems that need to be worked on, but I attribute none of them to how I was raised or the way my parents have treated me.

I can't deny that until relatively recently, I really had no direction in life whatsoever. Maybe that was because neither my mom nor dad ever pressured me into pursuing a particular career path. Although they've hinted at an education in the medical field for almost as long as I can remember, I wouldn't call it "pressure." They let me do whatever I wanted to do, which was cool at the time, but in the end I floundered. Perhaps it happened for a reason, because now I have the motivation and drive to finish something (in the allied healthcare industry no less!), and be good at it. So for that, I sincerely thank them.

I checked in on her later to see how she was and also to retrieve the Post-Its of our conversation. I didn't find them unfortunately, but in my search I read something she had written to my dad before she'd called for me:

Please stay with me -- I'm afraid to go to sleep.

I think my mom was scared she wouldn't wake up. That was why she wanted to talk to me and ask my forgiveness, just in case. I think that's why she was crying. I was stunned.

She actually is sleeping now, fitfully, but she's in no danger of going anywhere. Although I'm going to miss the hand movements that look like she's trying to conduct an orchestra, I can't wait until she's fully recovered so we can talk and laugh again.

Tagalog-English Translations:
¹You're good and kind ... your siblings will learn from you.
²I didn't guide you well or right.
³Do you remember a lot of things that I did wrong?
⁴If there's anything else, tell me freely so that you won't be so angry.
⁵If my blood pressure goes down, I'll help you review. Son, it's been more than a minute.

The Same Thing.

Let's round the week up with some art and music. Bicicleta Sem Freio (Portuguese for "Bike Without Brakes") is a Brazilian art collective producing pencil and ink work in a funky, retro style:

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Interesting how the two illustrations that caught my eye were of women with tattoos and guns. Maybe I should talk to a therapist about that.

I love the lines, colors and curves of the first picture. It's dynamic, sexy and so awesomely 60s. I need this in poster form stat.

The phrase "love and bullets" from the second image stuck in my head though, solely for the fact that they can both be considered one and the same. I speak from personal experience, having been on both ends of a smoking barrel. That sh!t hurts. But I'd be lying if I told you that it wasn't worth it in the end though. Perhaps that's why I tend to keep going back for more. And more.

At any rate, you can see the rest of of BSF's work on their Flickr page [some artwork NSFW].

Have a great weekend -- it's back to the Midwest for me late this Sunday, so this week's Sunday Seven series will be pushed back to the following day.

Rilke.

Stumbled across the following quote randomly a few years ago on a discussion forum, and it's interestingly relevant to me at this point in my life.

Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue, a wonderful living side by side can grow, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky.
- Rainer Maria Rilke

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I wish I'd remembered, and lived by, the essence of these words. It would have saved me a lot of grief. Nonetheless, it isn't too late to take them to heart.

Have a great Wednesday.

Thirty-Four.

So here are a few select quotes on age, and my thoughts on them.

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
- Anais Nin

The term arrested development seems to come up more frequently for me. I feel fulfilled and grown in certain areas, yet alarmingly stunted in others. Most of this, I think, stems from my inability to adequately express my feelings verbally to the most important people in my life. Which has lead to situations where I've indeed acted childish, instead of as someone who can reason things out in a rational manner. You know, like an adult. Don't get me wrong ... my self-perception is positive overall, but I have a lot to work on.

People like you and I, though mortal of course like everyone else, do not grow old no matter how long we live ... [We] never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born.
- Albert Einstein (in a letter to Otto Juliusburger)

There is a difference between childish and childlike. One of the things I pride myself on is that although I consider myself grown-up, I've kept my childlike sense of wonder mostly intact. I still surprise myself by marvelling at the little things in life, and being astounded by the sheer size of the world. I can only hope that this sense of wonder stays with me.

Those who love deeply never grow old; they may die of old age, but they die young.
- Sir Arthur Pinero

Age does not protect you from love, but love to some extent protects you from age.
- Jeanne Moreau

This I wholeheartedly believe in 300%. Love is easy and love is complicated, but love is essential to a fulfilling life. There's no way around it. The trick is learning how to love right.

Live your life and forget your age.
- Norman Vincent Peale

Such a simple quote, but it packs enough wisdom to last me forever.

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Happy Birthday to me.

What Is Your Secret?

In the excellent tradition of 50 People, 1 Question*, the people from PostSecret went out into NYC to ask random passers-by something simple: "What is your secret?" Here are the results.


Side note: I love the diversity of people in this video. Style + accents + ethnicity = awesome. It's one of the things I miss most about living in a huge city. Plus when there's a diverse population, great restaurants aren't far behind KNOWHATIMSAYIN?

It's amazing what thoughts, actions or beliefs people will confess to -- especially when asked in a pseudo-anonymous setting like this. The responses range from philosophical to quirky (eating cereal in the bedroom in one's underwear is definitely a movement I can get behind) ... and I'm attracted to the element of honesty in the answers. It's kinda refreshing after being immersed in a society that's constantly being bombarded by marketing, advertising and "spin."

After browsing the PostSecret blog for a little while (and being at turns amused, horrified, relieved and concerned), I was inspired to make my own personal confession. The following is rather heavy, but it's reflective of my current mindstate:

[source image via]

Come to think of it, this was actually calming and therapeutic in its own way. I'll do more in the future.

What is your secret?

*Seriously, if you have a few more minutes to spare, watch these videos. They're fascinating.

Happily Ever After.

Warning: Disjointed (and probably nonsensical) ramblings ahead. I feel like I need to release, so you may not want to read this entry.

I've been in some sort of weird slump for the past few weeks. Forgive me for using a cliché, but it feels like a heavy fog has blurred my mind's eye and dampened my overall mood. No, it's not the grey, windy weather. It's not the coursework from this semester. It's not even the stress of taking (and passing) the ARRT in mid-May. It's none of those things.

As they often do, a particular strip from A Softer World spoke to me:

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That's basically it. Deep down everyone wants the storybook romance: to meet, fall in love, work through the inevitable rough patches, stay in love, and live happily ever after. Just like a cheesy romantic comedy. As most of us know all too well, Hollywood and real life are a bit different.

I'm no different from anyone else. I wanted to have the perfect relationship. I wanted to be a person who could make her day brighter; be supportive; always remember the little and the important things; keep control of his negative emotions; communicate when things became turbulent; to be loyal, faithful and truthful for God's sake -- plus a million other things. It was supposed to be simple, but I have a dumb tendency to over-complicate matters. [Edit: This entry from last September is sadly relevant.] I tried. I really tried. In the end, I came up short one too many times ... and failed myself and the girl who loved me.*

It's hard to type this.

The thing is, I knew what I had to do to fix what was wrong on my end. I don't have the answer for why I failed to do so. Maybe it's because, like the comic strip above, I didn't really know what entails a fairy-tale romance -- how much work both people have to put in to create the perfect relationship. I look back, and the pieces were all there. She was trying to put together her side of the puzzle. Too many times (way too many damn times) I'd throw down my pieces and rage, leave, or both. I'm profoundly sorry I lacked the capacity to provide lasting substance; and for lack of empathy, caused pain I never knew I was even capable of inflicting.

If only. Those must be the two saddest words in the world.
- Mercedes Lackey

If only I had done better. Okay I'll stop now. Lord help me, I need to go back to therapy.

*Before you say anything: Yeah, I know -- "Go cry, emo kid." haha ...

Love & Coffee, Danish Style.

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From some quick Googling, I'm guessing it's some sort of Danish holiday advertisement. I really like the style of this art though -- crisp, sharp and bold. It looks like a vintage travel poster! Plus I thought it would fit in nicely with the goings-on this week, with Snowpocalypse over on the East Coast keeping winter in the forefront of our collective consciousness, and Valentine's Day tomorrow. The art suggests warmth and companionship, complete with a lovely mug of your favorite caffeinated brew.

And I love the fact that they're both wearing hats. I actually have a lid similar to the one the man is wearing, right down to the color.

Soooo I definitely won't be celebrating this particular corporate holiday this year (for better or for worse), but for everyone else with Valentine plans, go forth and enjoy! Just remember to keep it down.

My Nets Of Music Are Wide As The Sky.

Hm ... I must be in a poetic mood, what with the haiku earlier this week. (And no, I'm not posting a love poem just because it's almost Valentine's Day.) This obviously isn't one of my own, but man I wish I had Neruda's skill. I've been a fan of his poetry for years and years now. So I rediscovered this one about a year and a half ago, and it resonates with me still.

 

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"In My Sky at Twilight"
Pablo Neruda

In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and color are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.

The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
My sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!

You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depths of my eyes, you plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.

You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.

I love how lyrical, passionate and expressive this poem is. I think I still have a copy of Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair in a box somewhere, but if not I will have to buy a new one.

Two Different Goodbyes.

Headed back to Olathe one more time this weekend -- with Veronica, Gen, Olivienne and my mom in tow -- to finally clear out the rest of the boxes and miscellaneous items from my apartment. All of the large pieces of furniture have already found a good home; it's just a matter of sliding everything else into the back of my dad's Ridgeline and finding space for it here in Hays (not that this house needs anything else stuffed into it, which is why I'm doubly glad that I'm not bringing back any big items). So it'll be a busy weekend of driving, organizing and cleaning before handing the keys back for good and officially closing my experience of living in Kansas City.

This will also be my last weekend with Veronica before she flies back out to Seattle with Gen and Olivienne next Wednesday. These past five weeks have definitely flown by too fast and I can't say I'm really ready for her to go. It's been a wonderful, hilarious and joyous time. I've been continually amazed, delighted and humbled by having her around. It's a powerful way to see a different perspective of the world and my place in it. Needless to say, I'll miss her a lot -- even though I'll see her again in mid-March and we'll Skype regularly until then. It won't be the same, though, and it makes me profoundly sad. That said, words cannot describe how happy I am that she was able to spend time with me.

I love you Veronica! Missing you already.

Useless.

Given some recent events, this strikes a chord with me (as I'm sure it will some of you).

Over my past relationships, I've tended to apply that last formula with spectacularly unsuccessful results. Hopefully I'm not the only one!

Funny :) but so true :(

[via the magnificent xkcd]