Learning to Define Myself

I used to write poetry so often. I could really be free and creative at the same time. I was proud of what I could do, even if no one ever knew. But what has happened to me, that I have neglected something I held such a deep passion for? Could it be this fear? A fear that I will never be great in my writing? I know that I do still love to write, but I think that I have lost the passion that I once had for poetry. Honestly, it is only recently that I have even remembered how much I enjoy writing. For far too long I have allowed so many other things distract me, to take me away from what I love and throw me into the cyclic darkness of a routine. I have been in this dark place so long that I no longer even remember what else I had been passionate about. Through time and life and day-to-day normality, this endless circle that I am running in, I have forgotten myself. I have lost the identity that I understood as me. This stretches far beyond just the poetry and the writing.
I think it must've started slow. After school is over, the realities of survival throw you into adulthood. Sometimes we fight this. Sometimes we jump on the bandwagon. And here I am. And I realize one thing: school is not for me. The only option at this point is to work. Eventually, this becomes your life, what you do, who you are. And I was fine with that. At first. I still was pretty sure I knew who I was and where I stood. But then life happens and you gotta move on, get it together, get serious. Time for a "real job." Now, this is, I think, an entirely unrealistic concept that we are fighting for in this rat race of life. I bet that the idea of a "real job" came down from rich people, on the top, CEOs and whatnot. They basically made the distiction right there by categorizing everyone as either a loser or a successful, smart, educated professional. Black and white. Nothing else. You got it or you don't. Alright, so bring on the harsh reality of job-hunting. And even still, I think I know what I'm doing, where I'm going. I think. And then we begin the running that we will do in our own little hampster wheels as we are confined in these cages. Day after day. The same thing, with some ups and downs here and there, but then that's really all you have. That is your 'lot in life.' Good luck. So I'm going to work everyday. Everyone keeps telling me, "Don't leave that job. You got a good job." And I believe them. I've even become convinced that it's true. And it probably is if you were looking at it from the perspective of the person who came up with the concept of a "real job." Yeah, I agree that it's one of those. Okay. Then it is the grind. I tell myself that I'm just used to my life and what I have to do. But I am lying to myself because the truth is that I am bored out of my mind. I have only just begun to realize, Wait! This isn't what I want to do for the next 50 years! So why am I here? I have just given in to the fact that not everyone can have their dream job where they can work with their passions. If I did what I have learned that I am passionate about, I wouldn't be able to pay the bills or contribute to society as Uncle Sam requires me to. Because it takes money to make money. And money makes the world go 'round.
I think that since I have come to understand all this, I am sad. It is depressing when you see your dream, after searching for so long, and then realizing that it will never become your 9 to 5 reality. And that is how I came to this point. I am sitting back and taking it all in. Re-evaluating. Growing-up. Getting through an identity crisis. Whatever. So I am realizing, finally starting to see that I, me, have something to give. I do have a dream. I do have a passion. It wasn't what it used to be, like poetry or other things that I thought I believed in. I may still enjoy coming up with a poem here or there, but I'm okay with doing that just for myself. I am understanding that to define myself, it doesn't matter what I do, it's how I do with what I have to do. To live, I will do what I have to in order to get by. To survive, I will do what I am passionate about, even if it is not my career. I think that's all there is to do in this life, this crazy rat-race, in order to survive the mundane.

Natural Beauty

I took this picture a couple of years ago while staying at a place in Bodega Bay, California. This day was particularly beautiful with the sun shining warmly down on the beach, burning away the clouds. The short walk down to the beach from the house was lined with crisp green foliage with little sprinkles of flowers here and there. It was a pleasant sight to see, as you might notice. This is a sweet spot, filled with wonderful memories for me and my family. Visiting means that we can reminise about the fun things we could do on the beach, flying kites, chasing the waves and running away from them again, and just walking around to explore. It is a place that I can go to even from here, in my mind. Seeing this photo brings a sense of peace. This is a picture of a paradise. This is a place where nature proudly displays her beauty for us all to enjoy whenever we remember it. This is a place so precious and I will share it with you (whoever you are!) so that you, too, can come back to it and enjoy the serenity that this photo has so beautifully captured.
Listen to the waves crash. Watch the funny little birds talk and play in the water with their skinny little legs and hear the seagulls squaking as they fight over their latest food find. See the kids running and laughing as they persist in their attempts to get the kite into the sky. Think of those ships and large fishing boats that are looming out on the horizon, just kissing the ends of the ocean where it seems like the world ends. Lay back and notice the clouds and how the sun fights away the fog for its place to shine on the beach. Feel the smooth sand that the ocean has carefully brewed over time. Touch the water as the waves' remains rush toward you and flood you with that nearly freezing water, how it is brisk and strong as the current sucks it back from you. Smell the distinct scent of the salty ocean's air like it is a sweet finishing touch to the ocean's delight. Just imagine how serene and peaceful it can be if you just release all of your worries and stressors to be carried out by the rushing current of the ocean. Take a small vacation for yourself right where you are. This is a great way to take a minute out of your day just for you. This has helped me, so I have shared it with you. Just think about it . . .

Life doesn't have to be all serious

Meet Monster. He is my muse. Life is simple for him. He just goes from one place to another, laying down in funny positions, making funny meowing noises, carefree and domesticated. And I wonder, if he could talk, what would he say? What mood was he in when I took this picture of him? I've wondered, is he depressed, resigned to the fact that he is and always will be a house-cat? Or is he relieved, wiped out, exhausted from a long day of catnaps and catnip? Or could it be that he is lost in thought, pondering what life might be like on the outside? Watching him fills me with wonder. I guess more than anything, he reminds me not to take life so seriously. I mean, eventually we all get to nap, we just have to work harder and plan for it! But Monster seems to show me that life isn't so bad being confined because there is always something to do. So even if I am confined to a tiny apartment, a small car, and a miniature cubicle, I can still be creative with my time, my life. Even if napping throughout the day isn't on my agenda, I can still find ways to take what I have to do and find fun inside, using my sense of humor and creativity. I guess it's a coping method. A survival instict. If we couldn't find something good in all that we have to do, how could we live? Think about it: If you really hated something in your life, why would you still do it? You must benefit in some way, even as simple learning something from what you have to do. Maybe even learning that you don't like something and that you need to change it! Like Monster, if one silly position isn't giving him comfort, he changes it, or gets up to play with his kitty toys, or snacks on his food, or just simply runs around the apartment like a crazy cat! He cracks me up! I think I'll end this post and go take a NAP! (LoL) Today I learned from Monster that I need to lighten up and just relax a while.

Mistake or Mistaken?

"People put erasers on the ends of pensils for a reason.

It's okay to make mistakes."

-unknown-

We all mess up here and there. Really, it doesn't matter how hard we try, there is always bound to be some imperfection. Nothing is absolute. Not that we can do, anyway. The battle is within ourselves. Am I going to look at this as my mistake, it's all my fault, I will never get it right? Or am I mistaken, and the truth is that it's better to make a mistake and learn from it than to beat myself up over something that I no longer have any control over? There is a lot to be said for knowing when and where to make this distinction. All too often I end up abusing myself because something inside of me always wants to make it 'right,' or 'better,' or even 'perfect.' I have much to learn. Intellectually I know that I will never be perfect, nor will you, my work, or anything else in my life! But emotionally I am holding myself to a standard that is impossible to reach. I know that I wouldn't expect perfection from someone else, so why do I lie to myself, believing that I don't get to have an eraser? I think what it comes down to is not just erasing the mistakes, but learning everytime you pick up the eraser how to make it better next time. Luckily, with a pencil we can always have the option of erasing and starting again.

Come, my love, and let us grow old together . . .

When has this begun? Let me remember the places of which we are from . . .

I vaguely remember the long shiny halls lined with small lockers. I would lay out there, amongst the butcher paper and markers, painting my way onto the halls of the middle school. We were still strangers, but somehow you found me. I remember the hustle and bustle of working at the student store after school and I remember your face when you came to my window. You asked me so genuinely what it would take to win my heart. In my immaturity and fear, I thought of the simplest thing: Wildberry Skittles! I laughed to myself because I could not quite understand why you would have such an interest. I remember the next day, just the same as any other, you came again to my window, but this time with a one pound bag of those purple Skittles. You won my heart right then and there, although I must admit that my heart was so fickle back then. We were still just kids! But you saw beyond that. You saw deep within me and you loved things about me that I hadn't even discoved yet myself. This struck fear within me and I tried to flee. You locked me down for the last dance of our last year of those last days at that junior high. I went along begrudgingly, still unaware of the future that lay ahead of us. Then that summer you explained to me why you thought so much deeper than others our age. You explained about the uncertainty of your life, the precious little time that you thought that you had, and the reason why you belived in us so much. You know that this still did not sway me, not because I did not care, but because I was terrified of getting so close and still knowing that the future could be so bleak.

We went to our separate high schools, and I began to slowly understand you in a best friend sort of way. I treasure those car trips to church events, our friends' houses, and other road trips. We talked and laughed and learned so much together as our high school years ebbed away. Our love did grow. It grew out beyond a mere friendship and instead began to develop into the most beautiful and powerful love that either of us had ever known. I remember that sparkly Christmas Eve, as we sat talking in the hallway to my bedroom. I remember discussing our futures because we were so uncertain of what was to come after graduating from high school. It was so hard to see a life beyond that, wasn't it? You said that you were afraid to be my boyfriend because you didn't want to tie me down for college. You said that you wanted me to be able to date others if I wanted to and not have to worry about you. I could not help but laughing as I brought up the significance of what I wanted. I don't want to date anyone else, I said. I know that I want to be with you! And that was when we decided to begin a pure dating relationship. And the years flew by as we lived, laughed, and learned so much about love and each other. I cannot even describe the youthful delight that we felt during those times. And we savored it all. And we did not spoil it all.

And on one beautiful occasion, we went on a date to a wedding. Can you believe that I caught the bouquet? And do you remember when the garter got stuck in the rafters after the groom tossed it back and all of the guys around you boosted you up to reach it down? I was just amazed that such a coincidence could be possible. And I knew that this day was going to be very special, unforgettable. We went to a park and enjoyed a wonderful picnic after the wedding. I remember walking around the pond at UC Davis as we prayed and thanked God for this relationship. We even saw a wild peacock along the way, remember? And as we rounded a corner, a large gazebo lit by candlelight came into view. There was a table set for two and as we drew nearer I saw that rose petals had been gently sprinkled all over the ground. Of course, I knew something big was about to happen, so I became very jittery and nervous, even though I was trying to act like I wasn't. As we sat down at the table, some of our friends appeared from behind the gazebo dressed like waiters and waitresses. They poured us some sparkling cider (I wasn't even 21 yet) and served us a delicious dinner that they had prepared. I was so anxious that I could barely eat, so you asked me to dance. I stood up and took your hand as you led us across the rose-petaled floor. I don't even remember how long we were dancing! I just remember when you stopped, handed me two dozen gorgeous red roses. You plucked something out of them as you handed me the bouquet and then got down on one knee. You sang to me this lovely song you had written and I was definately in tears by now. You held out the ring and asked me the one question every girl dreams about from the moment she understands words: Will you marry me? Oh, baby! I melted! And gleefully said yes! over and over as we hugged! (April 3rd, 2004)

And the engagement flew by. We learned even more about each other through this period of six months. Ultimately, we fell more in love and eagerly anticipated the wedding day. And I remember this, too, as if it were yesterday. I remember waking up in the morning and thinking that this was going to be the best day of my life because I was going to marry the man that has loved me since the eighth grade and I was going to be his wife! I kept admiring the ring that I knew was about to be joinded to its matching band. I knew that this day would symbolize some kind of completion, the ultimate unity. I remember just giggling all the while I was getting ready. I could not shake my smile. I remember walking down the isle. Your face, struck with the beams of the sun, squinting, smiling, crying. And I couldn't tell if I was laughing or crying anymore. It was so much emotion, so much joy, so much bliss. The service was just beautiful and everything went so perfectly. And then it ended and the minister looked up and said those exciting words that we've anticipated hearing for so long: You may kiss the bride! And we kissed and it was amazing. This was our FIRST kiss. Ever. We had been looking forward to this in ways that many couples will never understand. And it was indescribable. (September 4th, 2004)

I don't look back on anything, wishing that it had been different. I know that your life is so valuable, somehow more precious than most people will live with. So I treasure everyday. I feel like a princess because you are all that I have ever dreamed of in a man, in a husband. You have captured my heart forever. And I love you so much. Let us grow old together.

From Love and Loss

Love is amazing. It's spectacular, it's beautiful, it's powerful, and it's undescribable. It can be so challenging sometimes, it can hurt worse than a physical wound sometimes, and it can even be angry sometimes. But anyone who has ever loved can attest to that ever-so-famous saying: "It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." For love, we can somehow cope with loss.
I know that people live their lives and then they die, sometimes without warning or without cause. The pain that we feel for that loss is excruciating. Nearly unbearable. But this mystery of love is always the healing power that pulls through those who were left behind, those who mourn. Remembering the love that the lost had for us during those precious days that they had lived among us, the memories, the laughter, the lessons, and the love. We also remember again how valuable this person was to us and we are awakened and in-touch with all of the love that we have felt as time has past. This love, this power that pulls us through, it pushes us on to continue the legacy, reminding everyone through our lives of the wonderful things that we miss from those we have lost. In this magical way, love is carried and passed on. And loss will lead again to love.

In Honor of Raquel Valentino de Oliveira

September 12th, 1951-January 8th, 2006

What defines you?

"Do not let this define you;

Instead define this for what it is."

-anonymous-

I am wrestling with this concept. It is wise. But it is hard. It is so difficult to separate yourself from those critical, judgmental, and prejudiced notions that you have somehow been trained to believe. Now it is so deeply imbedded into the core of your very self. In the midst of life, it is hard to believe that whatever 'this' is will not be who you are or will become. However, there is still some kind of thought, some decision, that you make along the way whether or not you will choose to believe that 'this' is who you are or if 'this' is how it is. The concept of this quote is to find the line between who you are and who you want to believe yourself to be. If you are sick, will you decide to let it become who you are or will you seek the proper care to understand the nature of the sickness? If you are poor, will you choose to let this be your life or will you remember what has brought you to this and try to make some changes? If you are sad, will you let the darkness overwhelm you or will you realize that you don't have to be in that darkness? There is only some extent to which we can change our situations. The best place to start is in our minds, where we are able to decide who we are and who we want to be. No one or no thing can define who you are unless you hand that power over to them. This power, this self, is so precious and personal. Protect it by protecting your mind from the destruction that looms, from what the world is telling us.

Keepsakes

I'm just curious: What makes something into a keepsake? Why save a keepsake? Why is it that our memories need a reminder like this to show us what is important to us? Why do we place such value on these things that we feel the need to save them? Does it help us to remember? Does it just end up in some box or closet, taking up space and collecting dust? Why is it so important to some, but to others it is considered useless or a waste of time? Why devote so much time into preserving and cherishing a single moment in time or a fleeting life flying by? Is it so important that we take these things into consideration? Do we really treasure these keepsakes? Is it worth whatever it takes to preserve it? Don't we realize that even these precious treasures will also just fade away, like everything else? How much are we really benefitting from this process of preservation, doing the work of keeping whatever it is?
I was thinking of how important a keepsake might be to me. I consider things like pictures, souveniers, and treasures to be keepsakes. I look around this place and I realize that I have tried to save so much in order to really preserve my precious memories. Life truly is fleeting and I am just a breath in the wind. Nothing that I treasure will remain once I am long gone. These keepsakes have real value to me and me alone. As far as I am concerned, that it enough reason to embrace these petty things that I consider to be worth keeping. I don't mind how much I end up keeping while I am here, because if it can help me remember when times were good, bad, critical, funny, joyful, and exciting, then it is well worth whatever space, time, or effort it may take to preserve my keepsakes. Memories are so precious. Keepsakes are reminders of the memories that I hope to recall time and time again throughout my journey of life.

My Favorite Quote

"just when the

caterpillar
thought the
world was over,
it became
a butterfly"
-anonymous-

This quote has proven to be true. Somehow, it gives me hope . . . that maybe things are not always as bad as they might seem. Maybe there really is a light at the end of each tunnel. Maybe something beautiful lay ahead in places yet unseen. Maybe there might still be something to look forward to after all.

Greetings

This is my first creation to display - this web page! I am looking forward to using this as a tool for expressing myself. I think that is the only reason that I spent time putting something like this together. I enjoy expressing myself in creative ways. I hope that this can assist you in understanding what's going on inside of me and what I have wanted to communicate but might have neglected to explain. I also hope that somehow this might assist you in understanding others a little better. I will share what I have learned thus far in my life. I would also like to mention that I look forward to your comments and feedback. I know that I can learn from you, too. I don't think I've figured out much, but I am open to listening and learning. So, with that, enjoy the journey!