2025 = 9 Ending the past. 2026 = 10 New beginnings
Like this website, empty beginnings. I thought we must start from scratch.
Wisdom borrowed from buddhism.
Without emptiness, there is no space. There is no echo. There is no shadow. There is no light. Free of clutter. Air flows. Is this what we call breeze?
In this emptiness I created. Nothing worth mentioning happened. I kept to myself, trying to be happier, letting go of imagined fears. While letting past pain bodies fighting to survive cycle through me. Digging into the depression devoid of light. Feeling jolts of joy in the pit of my stomach when I’m on my way out.
Learning that depression is not something I can snap out of. It is not a choice, It is a place suspended in time. How long, it varies depending on what I need to see and deal with.
Why do I despise being imposed upon? Because I thought I was a burden even before birth. In utero, feeling like a parasite, having to take from someone who does not have enough. But I did to survive. A living organism whose sole purpose is to survive before being able to thrive and branch out. Despite the creation in the world of scarcity. But was I? A world that felt scary and small to the mother, and her feeling passing to her fetus. The first impression of fear. Imprinted in the darkness. In truth, the world was abundant. But you know what they say. Perception is reality. How many of you live in true reality? I do not count myself. Today, I do. Everyday, not so much.
Seeing myself reflected through the world of my creation.
Believing in the narrative of my hostess, doing her best. Now seeing that somene’s best is not enough for me. Learn to walk away. A story similar from my Siamese who used to hire unqualified people out of pity.
Talks all the time. To fill the space. Having someone to listen to you, in your small world of too few people. Like the Little Prince’s planets he visited. Too small for one person. Wondering, wandering, wishing about ideas and people that has nothing to do with him. Not knowing how to let the quietness fill the air. With nothing to say. Nothing to listen to. Just be out with nature, without any pressure or expressions.
To seek peace and silence. To let our voice boxes rest.
To stop having to explain away yourself. To not caring about the imagined. No, I am not advocating for nihilism.
Instead, reminder to care about the things and people we can touch and share meals with. Living in the now and present. Look into the horizon. See the light green branches sway up and down to the wind. Hum of motor traffic behind me without being annoyed. Replying “thank you” to stranger who ‘blesses’ me after a sneeze.
Remembering hikes where I struggled because I was too hot and tired. And it’s only during these times people stopped to check in on me. Complete strangers taking time to take interest in me visibly distressed. Fi and her friends sang me a song as they passed, smiling with gentility.
I went to Spar thinking I was getting one small thing. In line, I have too many things in my two hands, and at the end, two popcorn individually wrapped in plastic slides across. I have no hands to pick them up. A man helps and I say thanks. I laugh out loud.
Giving all my keys away, not having a way back in. Locking my phone which the coordinator had to get.
Not relying. Not expecting. Yet having complete strangers come to my aid. Unasked.
Space demanding to be served by those in abundance.
And so, I see I was wrong. I was right. Learning to hold two opposites. It’s not about emptying myself. It’s about letting things in. Creating space. We don’t need to start from scratch.
It’s about taking a good look at yourself and where you live.
Take out the trash. Don’t be a hoarder.
Let it go. Hold onto things you are willing to pay for.