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  • Day 30 – 내가 나에게

    명상 6일 – 2시간; 아침 1시간, including Metta. 저녁 53분
    Day 15

    Don’t Hesitate by Mary Oliver

    “If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
    something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb”

    That anything was ROSÉ & Bruno Mars – APT. (Official Music Video)
    A silly and catchy song that reminded me of my soul friend, Catherine who messaged earlier to ask, “how is everything going?”

    My answer? Everything is going, faster, focused and forward. What caused the sudden and unexpected joy? A pop song.

    This love letter goes out to me, myself, and I.
    완벽하다고는 못해. 하지만 내가 나만으로 충분하다는 걸 다시 깨닫았어. 사랑해, 산나야.

    산나야,

    내가, 나에게, 너에게 가고 있어. 여기 있어. 몇 번이나 돌고 돌아 여기까지 오느라 힘들었다고 물어보면, 재미있었다고 하겠지? 좋은 기회였다고. 영광이었다고. 그게 나고, 그게 너니까. 우리는 긍정적인 행복인. 생각에 잠긴 우리 얼굴엔 미소가 그려져 가네.

    빙글빙글 돌며, 같은 노래 몇 시간 듣고 있는 거야? 부엌에서 혼자 재밌게 노는 네가 맘에 들어. 24시간이네 가슴의 고통을, 과식으로 달래며, 찔끔 의 눈물 흘리다 잘 못 잤지?

    아침 일찍 일어나 해변의 길을 걸었지. 바다에 담긴 둥근 달의 빛이 가슴의 활기를 시동 걸어주었어. 기가 얼마나 오르는지 나도 모르게 뛰기 시작 했어. 달리면 안되는 내가 날아가기 시작. 6분후, 빠른 숨을 가다듬으며 내가 좋아하는 플랫 화이트 시키고, 들 떠있는 사람들 가운데 앉아 기다렸지. 왠지 낯설지 않고, 흐뭇했어. 첫모금의 쓰고 부드러운 맛. 내가 제일 좋아하는 맛.

    집에 돌아오자마자, 명상에 잠겼지. 앉아 눈을 감았지. 1시간 후 온세상이 바뀌어 있었어. 밤의 불빛은 잠들고, 훤한 세상이 날 반겼지. 푸른 하늘. 잔잔한 바람. 이게 행복이지.

    그리고 나서 일을 시작 하려다, 가방 싸서 스타벅스로 향 했어.
    복도에서 셀카를 재밌게, 열심히 찍고, WhatsApp profile 사진을 갈았어. 웃고 있는, 정면의 사진. 뚜렷하게, 자신 있게. 이게 나야. 감추지 않아도 되는 나.

    예전에 꼈던 검은 디젤 바지가 다리에 잘 맞아, 헐렁헐렁 하지는 않지만 살 빠진 다리가 고맙다고 하네.
    커피 한잔 시키고 2층으로 올라가 노트북 키고 회사일 시작. 몇 시간 후, 배가 고파, 집에 와 아보카도와 당근을 먹고, 월남 쌈도 싸먹었지. 맛있었어. 로즈와 브루노 마스의 아파트 노래가 흥의 싹을 키워졌어. 나도 모르게 몸이 움직이더라. 무릎 굽히고, 허리는 왼쪽 오른쪽, 두발이 둥둥 뛰더라. 빙빙 돌며 웃음이 저절로 나오더라. 혼자 막 웃었어.

    오늘도 사자의 머리를 올라가고 싶은 맘에 몸이 다시 움직였어. 정상 32분 걸렸어. 일요일의 34분 기록을 갰어. 내려오는데 35분. 총 67분. 헬스장 가는 거보다 더 재미있고 즐거워. 이런 도시에 사는 내가 너무 행복하고 좋아. 같은 노래 20번 이상 들었어.

    하루 종일 행복했어. 100점의 날. 어제와는 정 반대. 어제 밤 과식 한 다음 소파에 누워 힘들었던 내가 하루안에 회복 했어. 목표 달성. 충성! 잘 했어, 산나야. 더 빨리, 더 씩씩하게 일어나는 네가 대견하고, 고마워. 정말 고마워. 환희의 황홀한 날.

    내가, 너를. 네가 나를. 사랑해. 네가 내가, 우리의 얼굴에 미소 짖게 해주네. 내가 널 감싸주며, 머리를 쓰다듬어 주며, 천천히, 부드럽게, 네가 날 안아 주었지.

  • Day 29 – past in time

    Meditation Day 5 – 0 | Day 14 + 86 more to go. 86 + 29 = 115

    What do you let in, and what do you keep out? Our bodies are designed to interact with our environments in every level. We don’t, nor can we take in everything. We should only let in what is good. Is it digestible and absorbable? We don’t mistake cardboard for pizza and sand for grits. We do not mistake inanimate objects for food that could breaks our teeth and our necks to swell.

    Yet we over consume digital content, junk food, work and people. With overconsumption, the body stops sending us signals to auto-regulate because the signal continues to be ignored, and body becomes saturated with whatever there is too much of and stops sending us signals. Shuts down a part of itself from dystrophy. Enter inflammation, body’s natural defense against imbalance and foreign objects.

    I am guilty of all of the above. Doom scrolling. Eating too much. Working way too long and taking too long to say goodbye to places and people.

    It’s not until I stopped eating bread for a while I found gluten intolerance.
    It’s not until I stopped working, taking 5 months off of work, to see that I was filling every waking moment with work and colleagues.
    It’s not until someone left me or broke up with me, to see how much happier I am without them.

    The space is what we need to see what we cannot see. Take away the stimulation, the feedback mechanism of addiction to the familiar and predictable.

    To do so, we need space to create a momentary disconnect. Easier said than done.

    Did you know that our intestines are covered by the thinnest number of cells, and is more permeable than you think? Designed to absorb and let nutrients in. Some of us let too much in, even the bad. Like gluten for me, which triggers the body to fight back, causing inflammation. Bloating, gas. Causing discomfort, the body letting me know that this isn’t okay. Stop the intake. Because I have always eaten gluten, I thought everyone felt this way. Eating is uncomfortable. Everyone bloats. Wrong again. Lately, I notice myself more wrong than right. Meaning, I’m seeing better and growing stronger.

    It’s like how I used to think that everyone couldn’t breathe through their nose. Until I opted for surgery to straighten the left nostril and corrected the deviated septum. Only after hearing a friend talk about her husband doing the surgery. On my first trip to the ENT, the doctor asks if I have any sinus issues. “No”, I say. He says my face looks inflamed. He talks me through the surgery and very quick recovery time, after checking out the CAT scan, taken at the hospital across the road. I am not sure, fundamentally believing that our bodies are meant to be not cut open.

    “How about a simulation”, he suggests steroid injection to mimic the benefits of a surgery. Why not, I say.

    The injection changes my life. What I don’t know, I don’t even know to ask the question. I am on a call with my little sister. “Did you lose weight?” No is my answer. I see my reflection in the mirror, and my face has shrunk. I have been living with constant sinus inflammation, that I got used to the congestion and blocking.

    No more clearing the back of the throat, expelling the thick mucus. No more sneeze every morning for half hour. No more having to stop kissing in the middle, to breathe, feeling extreme discomfort with mucus building inside. It was debilitating, but because of the continued discomfort and having gotten used to the status quo, I had accepted things as they were. Forgetting that we always have a choice to get better.

    And so, I opted in to correct my nose. After, to hold it in place, I had rolled plastic tubes up my nostrils, feeling the oxygen filling my body, marveling at the miracle of keeping my mouth closed to let all the air I need inside of me.

    And so, not everything our mamas gave us is optimal. We need help not just from friends and family, but doctors and medications developed over the years. Benefit from technological evolution. Move away from the misperceived good old days, my tendency to see the good in everyone and everything. The other side of my double edge sword of everlasting optimism.

    People say my voice has changed. My face, I noticed changing. Just a bit more air into my left nostrils has fundamentally changed how I look and sound.

    The space in between my nostrils, by its opening, has exponentially improved the quality of my life.

    Now, I wonder. What spaces are blocked? Who and what am I letting in that disrupts that space, to let the oxygen in?

    Optimus: Best

    Prime: Prime number is a whole number greater than 1 with only two factors – itself and 1. A prime number cannot be divided by any other positive integer without leaving a remainder, decimal or fraction.

    So to be Optimus Prime is to be wholly indivisible and individual. To be Optimus means shifting and transforming to step into our power. Into our prime.

    “At the heart of every legend, there is truth: a few brave souls unite to save the world. We can be heroes in our own lives, every one of us, if we only have the courage to try.” – Optimus Prime

  • Day 28 – present in time

    Meditation Day 4 – 0

    I wake up late. At 0645am, I drive to Lion’s head, warmer, bluer and clearer than last night. The full moon is to my right, about to plunge into the ocean. Three days in a row, I find myself up here.

    I get up with my personal best: 34 minutes. It took 50 minutes the first time in September, seven months ago. I have grown stronger and more capable. In tune with my body, emotions, and energetic shifts, feeling the gaps and connections; doubting myself less, expecting more and letting go faster.

    It is warm up here, just after the sun cracks open the sky.
    I crack open a fortune cookie I bought for a new friend. Yesterday too cold and too fragile. How appropriate, this message. It is perfect just for you: “You will have many friends when you need them.”

    Yesterday, on my walk to Starbucks to collect my free cup of coffee, I notice a rolled up tissue rolling across the one-way street. A beauty to behold, in my eyes at least. Some time ago, a seed was planted to grow the tree. The tree was chopped, traveling to the mills. Turning into pulps, flattened and dyed white. Conveniently packaged into a box, which someone bought. Used it and threw it away, crumpling it in their hands, making it into a tiny ball. Wind blows it across, the soft white tissue rolling along its edges, like a wheel doing its own cartwheels. The cause and effect.

    This morning, I decide to drive early, one of my favorite places: harvest cafe at 4 York road in Muizenberg.

    Stopped at a red light. I glance to my right. A man on the passenger side smiles. I take my sip of water. I’m thirsty. Driving here, I feel the bottom right of my heart aching, listening to Korean artists humming to melodic guitar strings. Passing a side car strapped to a motorcycle, three people on the highway with their helmets on, hair blowing in the wind. What is this I feel? Appreciation. Another stop light, and I glance to my left as I hum along. A driver with sunglasses turns to meet my gaze, and we smile. I look forward to sing along. And something lifts, and the ache is gone, heart opening and dancing to the melody of this new song.

    I ask that we delay our meeting by thirty minutes, to give myself more time to write. Mornings, precious gifts for myself, not to be shared. Use your words, we tell children. I use my words, to echo what I iterated last night. I now feed myself first. Mornings are sacred, the first 3 to 4 hours are for me, and no one else.

    Perfect 10 is my order number. I will take it. I am feeling great again. It didn’t take along. Well done spirit, body and mind.
    My stomach is full, mind caffeinated. Heart swells open again. Ready to plan for a trip to USA and Korea, away from my third home in South Africa. To do what I said I would. To return to Korea and USA once a year. To ground myself to the past by going forward in time. Ancient times, before I can come back here, to where I am supposed to be. Letting myself be. Accepting what is. What is not, I let go. With open palms and glad heart.

    On the way down, I find a cove with a message just for me: “Don’t confuse a moment in life with life”

    This love letter celebrates the power of noticing small things. Universe is kind. Abundant. Thank you for embracing me with love and kindness. Always providing what I need, exactly when I need it.

    “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it”

  • Day 28 – forward in time

    I write into the future, a day I choose for myself.

    I want a necklace of three days, strung evenly across. A day without rushing or hurrying. A day of sharing, moving and talking. Before we go off on our own, into our independence of days of meaningful work that overtakes us. The days of professional focus and meetings, without distractions. Because we like to work, a sense of accomplishment translates to joy and productivity. We are what we are, corporate athletes of getting things done. Getting paid handsomely for this skill of bias of producing. Paying for trips and meals, time to enjoy experiences and products. Money allows us to paint the world of our creations. Money allows me to be generous. Gives me time and space I crave.

    The love letter goes to money. A source of abundance, means and value we create to choose to do what we want, with our lives.

  • Day 27

    4th day of meditation – let’s see how I do.

    12pm on the dot of 27th day.

    What more do I see, a day of grey clouds with the coming and goings of soft drizzle?

    Remembering to see all we need to, with our eyes closed. Feeling for what is, not searching or wandering of what will be. To be here, listening, responding, accepting. The softness meeting the hard. The yin and the yang. Starving. Hungry. Rapturous appetite. Reaching and grasping. Relaxing. Slowing down. Finding the rhythm of the dance, pace slows. Tenderness ensues. Pace quickens, wanting peak, not ready to mount just yet. Go as slow as you can. Hold back, just a little. Let the body feel and let go. Natural rhythm of this dance. Moving. Appreciating. This moment, the magic of connecting and baring it all for no one to see.

    Another prime. 27. The age of immortality. I choose mortality.
    The love letter goes to softness of life.

  • Day 26

    Day 3 – 8 minutes of meditation in the apartment + 18 minutes on top of Lion’s Head = 26 minutes (Unintended coincidence on day 26)

    I sit for the third day of meditation. After 8 minutes, I pack up my stuff and drive to Lion’s Head.

    I notice a cyclist stopped on the side of the road, looking out into the sea. His camera is out. I think he’s crazy. What is there to see?

    At first sight, I think it’s the sun rising, but it’s barely 5:30am, and sun is asleep. Stars are twinkling still. Mind making up stories when it doesn’t understand what it sees.

    In the middle of deep blue sky, away from the mountains. Between heaven and water, a thin layer of clouds hang in the middle, covering the bottom half of the elongated orb. Blood orange moon is in the middle of descent, towards the ocean. Tomorrow is full moon.

    On the foot of the mountain, I start my ascent, with my back pack on, with a set of head lamps, jacket, half bottle of water and car keys. It’s not busy yet, passing only a few sets of people and their head lamps.

    It’s darker than before, barely seeing the contours of the ground beneath my feet. Only once, do I misstep, almost losing my balance. My body knows how to move to the steps. Breath becomes heavier and faster, towards the top. Not stopping. My body is strong and fit. Left hook of a grip for my right hand, and crevice for my left foot, the mountain creating paths back into my happy space.

    I recognize navy blue silhouettes of the peaks and terrains of the mountain ranges I’ve grown to love. Atop, jutting towards the water is a couple of flat boulders. I sit like buddha and close my eyes. Feeling the wind cooling my body, senses heightening. Mostly foreigners talking among themselves, and some South Africans. I hear someone rolling a joint, taking a puff. A familiar scent.

    I recollect fleeting thoughts.
    Instead of avoiding the discomfort, lashing out, or giving into unhealthy craving, defaulting into past patterns.
    I choose to learn to accept things as they are.
    To sit with the discomfort, like I am doing now.
    With my eyes closed, sitting still, trying to feel the faint current pulsating through my body, from the top of my head to the tip of my smallest toe.

    This love letter goes out to discomfort.

    Discomfort is where growth takes place. This is the arena where we have to fight our egos to accept life as it is.

    This requires massive action.
    Stop running away from situations and people, no longer mistaking it for self-preservation. Clenching our fists as if we’re clinging for dear life on the edge of a cliff, fear consuming us. If we let go, we will perish. We roll ourselves into a ball, like a porcupine, closed to life’s blessings and teachings.
    All we have to do is let go, and admit that we are not coping. We are copying the past actions of avoidance of survival.
    We are ready to thrive. To come to life.

    I vow to shift to openness. Open to feel the pain and sorrow, the only way forward. Also the joy and happiness. Moments of magic. Enjoying moments like this, alone. And with others. Every moment, every minute.

    I choose what matters. I choose my thoughts, the seed of all intentions and actions.
    Choosing where I want to go. Unshackling myself, letting go of the prisoner of the past.
    Choosing the destination is the first step. The second is taking the first step. Path isn’t created from thinking or ruminating.

    Like the recent trip to Johannesburg for eight days. I thought I went to supercharge my career with a leadership course by becoming visible and renewing professional relationships. Instead, it was about seeing the past life I used to lead. Unveiling the facades of shiny people wanting to rub off of my shine. To see the importance of staying true to who I am. I am fast, I am good at what I do. I like corporate people and its rhythms of life. I choose happiness still, despite the ego wanting to revert to who I used to be.

    These days of love letters are meandering thoughts trying to make sense of these emotions and events. Like a body of water finding its way to the ocean, with small streams joining bigger bodies, turning into rivers, flowing into estuaries.
    I do not want to reincarnate. I don’t want to repeat past lives. I want to let go of old connections that no longer serve me.
    I choose active verbs.
    To creating. To living. To letting go. To inviting the world to give abundantly. Because my hands are open. The clenched jaw is unlocked, I am not frowning. There is a smile on my face. I relax my brows, my eyes, my eyelids, my jaws, my mouth. I relax my shoulders, my hips and my feet. I am supple and soft, feeling and accepting as things come. Letting go of what must be gone. Ideals, people and places.

    This love letter is to discomfort. Greatest teacher of them all. I become willing student and creator of my own destiny.

  • Day 25 – Prime

    Day 2 of meditation.

    For five days, I was here last month. To work and celebrate my birthday. Busy reconnecting and celebrating, I remember feeling happy.

    This time around, why does it feel like an eternity, these eight days? The same place I used to call home feels unfamiliar. Grey and wet, there is no sun to be found. I find myself going deep inside.

    I still get up at 4:30. After meditation, I go back to sleep. There is no promenade. There are no mountain ranges. Things open later here. So I get to work just after sunrise, getting things done, working late, going back to the hamster wheel spinning days.

    I came up to attend three leadership meetings and deepen professional connections. Seeing the world through non-neurodivergent perspective, I see people are not as interested in engaging with me. No longer a shiny object with the CEO’s ear. Not working on key projects.. Not in the know. It’s been humbling.

    Do I care? I do because I’m inherently competitive. I like corporates. I like other overachieving, professional and articulate folks who are always trying to get things done. But do I care enough to become shiny again? To live in the city of hustle and bustle of concrete jungles with no sea breeze and access to gluten-free, plant-based dishes that I have taken for granted as mainstream, after having lived in Cape Town for the last seven months? No.

    I used to work 12-hour days, first one in and last one out. Exceeding targets, being called on by name, with people asking me to be on their team. The thing is, I can still exceed targets and work on more projects. However, with limited visible comes fewer invitations.

    I see how much I have changed by living in Cape Town. Or, have I become more of who I am? We are the product of our environments. I like myself better in Cape Town. I am more of myself.

    This love letter is dedicated to the city of Cape Town. This love letter goes out to my new home.

    Lesson learned? Don’t look back in the rearview mirror when trying to moving forward. Don’t look back. Keep your eyes on the road. Set your destination and move on. It’s your choice to move on or be left behind.

    I look forward to boarding the flight in an hour. Arriving before 10pm to sleep in my own bed. I look forward to getting up early to hike up and down Lion’s Head, to ground myself to the place I now call home.

    25 is a perfect square. 5×5 = 25. It is also a prime number. It’s like me. I’m the 5. In Johannesburg, I feel like a single integer. In Cape Town, I feel multiplied, into a stronger prime. In my prime, living my best life.

  • Day 24 – ginger lemon tea

    Day 1: One hour Vipassana complete

    It’s 3am. Rain drumming on the glass ceiling jolts me awake. Just a few hours ago, scattered laughter turned into a painful cry. Not even four years old, little one feels pain on her throat, medication wearing off.

    The next morning, I find the dad in the kitchen, drinking tea. They survived the night. She is okay.
    I grate some ginger, squeeze some lemon and add lots of honey to a pot of boiled water. Straining the seeds and fleshy ginger before serving Jon, then myself, then I make a cup for Biki.

    I cannot find a thermos, and I need to get going. I empty a 500ml of sparkling water into a mug. Drink as fast I can, before filling the bottle with lukewarm liquid.
    He’s supposed to be here, and I see his badge and bag at his usual spot. I leave it by his badge, take a photo. I saw him yesterday and the day before. He looked grey and sad, the light inside dimmed and weary. I was thinking of him when I made the tea. Therefore, is it a surprise that I made just enough for four adults. The mind is a powerful thing. Our thoughts planting a seed of future actions.

    It is now 7:39pm. Biki has given Aya a bath, Jon is away, and she finds me sitting at the kitchen counter. “Can you make me the ginger honey tea?” Sure, since you asked me so nicely.

    As she sees me grating and squeezing, she is shocked, “I didn’t know it was going to be this much effort!”

    It’s not. I like working.
    I make three more cups. Pour her a cup and me one too.
    We chichat and laugh about nothing in particular.
    “Money allows me to be generous”, I say.
    I’ve never heard anyone describe money that way, I like it.
    “Cool!”
    This love letter goes out to the act of generosity. I am grateful for being able to do things and find ways to nourish friends and colleagues. As I sat here writing, I ask myself. Would I rather be in my words, or speak to my wonderful friend, Biki.

    So we speak, and we laugh.
    This love letter is to myself for taking interest in people. Doing small things to bring joy. I’m grateful to be surrounded by people and opportunities. Like when Aya threw all the balls out of her pool, I had fun picking them up and throwing them back in.

  • Day 23 – Shaman Sean

    “Just checking in and how you have been.”

    Me: My energy is hypersensitive when around negative people. I need to let go of some people and spaces. I need to meditate.

    “You must learn to protect yourself from negative people and places. Remember. Negative people don’t make you hypersensitive, you are already hypersensitive. You have to learn to navigate them. Do not run away from them, in order to protect the hypersensitive. Learn and heal from them so that you don’t attract the same in other people.

    Meditation means to know thyself. It is not to be used as a distraction, but as a tool to help you navigate your thoughts and emotions in the real world. Meditation is a way of life. It’s not for fun”

    Sean reminds me of a childhood memory.

    A sack of egg, black and white one day starts moving. A massive head with a little tail swims around. One day, two bulging eyes with slimy skin of a body grows. Where did they come, these two hind legs? Another morning, three legs. Shortly after, the fourth leg emerges. Out, it hops, into its freedom out of water.

    Sean reminds me of the time we first met.

    The day after my first Vipassana meditation, I sit for 4 or 5 hours straight, without moving. Enjoying the silence. The stillness of observing respiration and diving deeper into self.
    Sitting, I feel my heart tighten and knot coming undone. I feel my right leg shaking. Then my left leg. Few days later, my whole body starts to shake, as if I am possessed. A worry that subsides when my hands moving without conscious thought pat my chest gently, as if signaling, ‘you’re going to be okay. I am here with you, in your heart, in my hands. I am not here to harm you. I love you’

    The body no longer a carcass I drag around. The mind no longer the master. Heart center opening and letting go of the seven oceans of tears that continue to pour out of me.

    Shaking gets to be too much. Legs shaking while driving, bathing, relaxing. I lose balance and I don’t know how to stop the earthquakes and after shocks.

    Do you know how your car works? The starter motor draws as much as 20 times of current to kick start your engine. Once engine is up and running, the starter motor needs to kick out. If not, it’ll burn out, as it is designed to start, not continue to run.

    It was like that with the shaking. I needed the jolt to wake up my body. My engine was up and running yet the starter motor continued to run, burning me up.

    What to do? Who do I call? What is wrong with me? I call the Vipassana center, and they cannot help me. I scour the web, and find that maybe 10% of the meditators experience such vibrations. I am lost in this spiritual world, with nowhere to go and nowhere to turn to.

    I am wrong, and I will be wrong again. I am more wrong than right.
    I am always surrounded by guardian angels. The universe is kind.
    She and I become friends during the 10 days in silence, sharing bunk beds, rides and Moro Gelato. I get the ice cream for us, and the total comes to R88. How auspicious. She encourages me to go see her Shaman, and I think she’s crazy. A shaman? Seriously? You must be kidding me.

    For my birthday, she gifts me a free session with the Shaman. Fine, I’ll give it a try. I lay there with my eyes closed. One hour passes, and my body feels calm. The shaking is gone, and I am not moving uncontrollably for the first time in 3 months. I see him once a week for few months, with him opening up blocked chakras, guiding me spiritually. The biggest lesson of all: empty beginnings.

    I’ve continued to gift the session with Sean over the years.
    One colleague was suffering from long covid symptoms with average resting heart rate of 88. After seeing Sean, it went down to 50. He brought his wife and child. His wife tells me they would have divorced, had it not been for Sean. They are expecting their second child any day now.

    I gifted Sean’s session to a colleague last month, and she is seeing him regularly, and paid for a free session for her daughter.

    The gift of paying it forward continues.

    I am grateful to the friend who gifted me the session with Sean. And on the back of his recommendation, I tried Trauma Release Exercise (TRE), where his partner mentioned, “I see literature in you.” Another shaman before Sean asked, “Do you write?”
    The universe keeps sending me the same message through different people.

    On day 0 of 100 days of love letter writing, I willed myself to write the truest words that are kind and necessary. To continue the journey of not telling a lie. To be honest with myself.

    And to do so, we need help from the universe. A nudge perhaps.

    Thanks Sean, for checking in on me and being a spiritual guide and healer. For showing me that it is in the unseen and unknowable the truth resides, in the deepest parts of our body and spirits.

    Thank you for helping me. I am grateful for your service.

    PS. I will extend the love letter writing to 113 days.
    PPS. I will add on the daily meditation for the remainder of 113 days, or 90 days in a row.
    PPPS. I will set high expectations for myself and others around me.

    23 is a prime number.

  • Day 22 – Ziggy

    Dear Ziggy,

    I vacuum around you. You refuse to move, laying on the green carpet, the color of Christmas.
    I need to shower, and you plop yourself next to the entryway. I step over you and shower with the door open. No one is home. Your mom and dad are at work. This is your house. I am only visiting, so I respect your wishes. We spend few days like this while I visit your mom to attend your parent’s wedding.

    A year passes, or is it two? We are meeting in San Diego, near your dad’s brother’s place. As my little sister and I get close to you in the car, you start jumping around. You are so happy to see me. You’re even excited to see my little sister, knowing that she belongs to me. How do you know that? Does she look like me? How can you smell us from inside the car?

    Your mom is amazed. You’re anti-social. You only let your family get close to you. You remember me from our special time together. You jump around me, licking my face, happy to see me. You don’t bark at all.

    Ziggy, you were a great dog, and your mom loved you very much. Mika was happy to be your sister for the short time she shared with you. Your mom still gets teary with your untimed passing, and I hope you are having a great time in dog heaven plopping and refusing to move!

    This love letter goes out to Ziggy the Zigmonster, who loved me as much he loved his family. You were such a great dog!