Meditation Day 10 – 22 minutes
Day 19
The ride to the airport is fun. How many years has it been… since someone dropped me off or come to pick me up? The last time I came to this side of the airport, I was leaving for Korea on my sabbatical, thinking I was never coming back. This time around, I’m leaving for less than 13 days, with every intention of returning to my favorite city.
Where are you going? Where are you coming from?
At the immigration line, boy and girl play and run from their mom and dad. Same age, different gender and race. Both vying for their father’s attention, and they get it, in turns. Wearing mismatched crocks. One pair army green another rainbow unicorn. “Unscrew this pole”, says mom, as the girl hangs back too long. I wonder why the Immigration staff won’t let them in front of the line, something I have seen being done in the USA. Boy falls behind and starts crying, “You left me”. “We will never leave you behind, we love you.” says the mom as she pulls him close to her chest. And just like that, he’s okay again.
“Where is your permanent residency certificate? You’re suppose to carry it.” The immigration official reminds me again. I’m sure to forget this.
At Addis Ababa, I am parched. I want a smoothie. A restaurant sells it for $12. A shop sells a 500ml watermelon juice for $8. It’s the most expensive juice I’ve purchased in a while, worth every penny. I wish I brought some of my dollars. The sweet watermelon quenches my thirst, before boarding the full flight to Incheon.
A man is sitting on the wrong window seat, having to move up forward. A heavy man who’s supposed to sit there yields the window seat to the grateful woman, leaving me unhappy. A big man, he asks if he can turn up the armrest. I say ‘no’. Funny, I just had this conversation with someone. Through the flight, I could feel our bodies touch, and I grab a exit card between us, craning my body towards the aisle seat. I sleep okay, having beef with rice instead. Not my favorite meals. I wish for salad or fruit.
I land the next day, feeling too full. Third airport in the last 24 hours. After buying an e-sim, I walk over to the bus ticket office. A man wearing square glasses walk towards me, his silhouette and face reminding me of my late father. It often jars me, being back. Seeing familiar faces from strangers.
I get on the bus, marveling at the best weather we’re having. It’s supposed to rain today, but it won’t. Only pouring on Tuesday, the day I’m supposed to work anyways, and I had no intention of leaving the co-living space.
My tarot card on the day of leaving reminds me to move on and move forward. The choice is yours. Leave or be left behind.
Meditation day 9 – 1 hour in the morning
Here is to a full day of moving and enjoying the first day of the four-day weekend. I am grateful for having something to do, with someone I look forward to seeing. I am happy to greet another day in paradise, radiating 27 degrees.
A day of adventures, starting with my favorite walk on the promenade, followed by a Truth coffee at the V&A. Strawberry cheesecake, minus the jam please. Walking back, checking out surf ski. I’d like to try it out when I’m back.
Would you rather be a prince or a king? A prince without responsibilities?
I’d rather be Queen, to rule and let others do the work. I shall decree and oversee, with poise and confidence.
Zebra crossing is where you’re supposed to cross, when the green man flashes. Why do we wait, I wonder. It’s not a busy street and it’s not busy. Jay walking is bad! Quizzical look on my face. I find the newfound difference fun and want to play. I jaywalk. I walk outside the zebra crossing. I run towards the crosswalk when it blinks green.
Time to nourish, go back to where I began the journey back to opening up my heart center. Then to the place where it all began, to start another chapter. Walking barefoot with the wide white hat. Look over there, a pathway to a small island. The two currents come from opposite sides, colliding in the middle, like the peak of a mountain. People walk on, and I wish I could join them, despite the toes screaming to get out, it’s freezing here.
Time for water, back to where we got our first bottles of water just two months ago. How time flies, but I don’t want it to hop. I want to live in the moment, right here. Right now. Looking out into the horizon, I smile at no one in particular, but the chef thinks I’m being friendly. And so, I get a plate of two rice rolls with a crunchy top. I was not hungry but I am happy to sample. His son has his eyes. An asian man, fellow Korean who’s been here for 21 year. 안녕하세요? 네. 안녕하세요. Then back to the car, then to the market for a pizza.
We look at a bottle of water, capacity 500ml. I am almost full with too much work, and I only have space to pour in just a little bit for me, and nothing else.
Why don’t we get a different container? How about that pot over there, about 100 times bigger than the plastic bottle?
I go home, with the every intention of washing up and meditating to close the day. I lay in bed for a little while. I wake up the next morning, unwashed but refreshed.
This is a love letter to retracing the steps with a fresh set of eyes. And with this new perspective, not only do I feel differently, but I can see better. ore clear than before, the mist lifting.
To love is to show up and participate.
I am catching up today, for tomorrow. My order number is 33.
Meditation Day 8 – 37 minutes
Day 17
I am the first to park, curiously staring at the road barrier on the way up to Signal Hill. Will I my break my record this morning? Using the moonlight, I start up the path, not in a hurry, no one to pass. My first time having the mountain to myself. I’m excited.
My senses are acute, as I step my feet in front of other. More than halfway up, I hear something move. I freeze. What is that? Suddenly, I wish for people. I take out my phone. Brown bush scurry forward, just ten meters in front of me. What was that? I am frozen still. Something doesn’t feel right. Flashlight from the phone doesn’t illuminate anything else. My eyes look for baboons or mountain cat. I take out the headlamp from the orange crossbody and click it thrice. My left hand holds the phone up, with my right the headlamp. A set of eyes glimmer in silver. Shape of a porcupine emerges all of its quills standing up, just to the right of the trail.
We are frozen in place. Is it seconds or a minute? It moves up the hill, away from the path, making noise as it goes. I stand there, wondering what to do. What is the universe trying to show me? Deity of Lion’s Head, what lessons are you presenting me with?
I’m more than halfway there, only 12 minutes to the summit.
I pause. I had tripped once, catching my body with two open palms kissing the ground.
A lesson I learned on this same mountain. Expect to fall and be ready to catch yourself. Every step is different, and we’ll trip when we least expect it.
Not just one. But two porcupines. The first one ran up the path, and another froze. I guess I wasn’t the first or the only one after all. Just because I can’t see them does not mean they don’t exist. During the night, while we humans sleep, these animals use the same paths as us, easier to travel on. Like the paved roads vs. dirt paths. What dangers lie ahead? What should I do?
I decide to turn back, placing the headlamp on my head. I can see just fine, thanks to the moonlight. On to warn other beings of my presence. I probably scared the porcupine more than it scared me. Or were we equally petried, not expecting to encounter such strange creatures?
Five minutes later, I see a couple going up. Another ten minutes, a larger tour group. I come home to shower, meditate, hang up laundry and write this love letter to my quill friend up on Lion’s Head.
What does it mean to see a porcupine? We need to balance security with freedom. How do we defend yourself when needing to stand your ground with grace and dignity?
Setting boundaries and protecting my energy. But also staying curious to see that when someone gives you a sign to back off, do so respectfully.
Thank you for teaching me that sometimes, we have to turn back. Let our presence be known. Show ourselves, even in solitude, safely contained in our quill of protection. Stay soft inside, protect yourself if needed. Respect others boundary and spaces too.
My first time seeing wild porcupine, under the light of moon.
Epilogue.
I walk along the promenade to have breakfast on the other side of Sea Point. The last few days, I’ve been eating too late into the day, hunger growing out of control.
I notice a pair of ladies walking in front; something feels off. I pass them on their right, and I am next to the sea rail. As I walk fast (as I do), I see one of their shadows lurking just behind me. Why are they walking so close to me, and so fast? I’m a fast walker and most people can’t keep up.
I feel something on my left jeans pocket, where my phone is. Screaming, I turn around, and meet the black lady face. “What are you doing?”
‘Nothing’
“What the…!”
‘I didn’t do anything.’
“Yeah right, you just tried to steal my phone!”, I wag my right index finger at her face. I keep turning around, making eye contact. Making a scene.
It’s like earlier at Lion’s Head. The gut instinct signaling something out of place. Next time, I will respond faster. I should have turned around as soon as I noticed her shadow just behind me. It doesn’t make sense for a complete stranger to walk so close to me, 08:30 in the morning.
So the sign from the universe… the porcupine… was a prelude to what just happened.
Thank you for the warning signs. My phone is still with me, at Kleinsky’s. What a delicious breakfast! Coffee, meh.
Meditation day 7 – 1 hour with the rising sun. 1 hour with the night.
Day 16?
You cannot boil water if you continue to turn off the flame.
And so, I decided to continue to keep the water warm. Soon enough, the heat will rise to 100 degrees celcius. Thereafter, I will continue to add the sensible heat, to become superheated. Reaching critical point. Changing state from liquid to gas, and beyond. Yesterday, I meditated for two hours. This morning, for one hour.
Tuesday walk on a Wednesday with Georgie. Ten years ago, you answered a Gumtree ad for a flatmate in Morningside. You came over and checked out my place. “I don’t want to live with you but I think we can be friends.” Finding each other in similar cities and places, you’ve been a caring and considerate friend. Inviting me to your family’s home for Christmas Olympics. Driving me back from the hospital after surgery. Checking out my current place as if it were your own.
You tell me about a podcast you recently listened to. Diary of a CEO. I like how calm he is, you say.
Steve Bartlett? Me too.
Which podcast?
Martha Beck.
Of course. I listened to her, and she’s the one who got me started on the importance of telling no more lies.
Then you tell me how you found it fastinating. What in particular, I ask. The need to create. Disconnect from the mind to create with your body. Go back to senses. I nod in understanding. I remind her.
You’ve always been creative. You’re the one who recommended that I take a painting class. To feel the different textures of plants. Walk barefoot on soft green grass. You are the embodiment of creativity.
Ha, I didn’t realize that.
This is why we need to have lifelong witnesses of our lives. I keep my little sister updated in what’s happening with me, even if I don’t need her counsel. So that she can be on the same journey with me. If I go astray, she’ll yell at me to get back on my path. This isn’t you, she’ll tell me. You have gone too far. You have not done enough. Or you’ve done enough. I’m proud of you. I see how you are growing.
But don’t you find it’s hard to stay in touch with everyone?
Sure.
Especially in Sea Point, where everyone is always visiting?
Yes. As long as we are intentional, I think we can stay in touch. We make time for what matters. I want to live a deliberate and intentional life. I choose to continue to keep the flame of our friendship going.
Georgie is the one who told me to go back to my monkey ways. Hang on the bar as long as you can. Yesterday, I held on for 90 seconds. Today, you show me the upside hang. You’re so fun. Super light.
Thanks for my cup of coffee from Bootleggers. XS. Without looking at the letters, one may mistake the word for excess. We are tiny in frame, strolling along the promenade, hanging out like monkeys, sipping our coffees.
Thanks for being my friend. With you, my life is bouncier.
And like that, day 31 is done. Another prime number.
The critical point is the temperature and pressure where the liquid and gas phases of a substance become indistinguishable.
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 a 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 깼어. 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.
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. 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.
With overconsumption, the body stops sending us signals to auto-regulate. Shuts down a part of itself from dystrophy. Enter inflammation, body’s natural defense against imbalance and foreign objects. We are too full. There is no space to move.
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.
Take away the stimulation, the feedback mechanism of addiction to the familiar and predictable. How do create space? By being still. To be still means to sit and do nothing. Do not eat. Do not pass or go. Let your thoughts go. Body rest. Empty. Take out the trash. Look at all that space!
Our intestines are covered by the thinnest number of cells, and permeable. 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. ENT 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. 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
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”
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.
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.