An Open Letter for the Beauty and Joy of Waiting

Dear friend,

How are you?

I hope you’re doing better. In this changing and healing world, I hope this open letter will find you well.

The pandemic really did hit us differently. I was forced to change my approach; you were forced to change your routine. Some of us learned how to create our own path and some of us learned how to cope in regards to the world’s changing direction. You’d expect the same thing from me as well.

I learned how to take my time.

I learned that the obstacle is the only way.

I learned how to appreciate the beauty and joy in waiting.

And if there’s one striking thought that really stuck into my mind—it’s that everything is temporary and nothing is permanent. Nothing ever stays the same.

In retrospect, I’m not yet in the right position to tell you how and where you want to be but you will be offered with two tickets at your own bus stop. One ticket may lead you to a faster and shorter route but it will lead you astray from your own purpose. The other ticket may lead you to a very arduous and tedious route but it will take you to greater heights. It will lead you to where you want to be.

So sit down and think about it first.

Reboot and mute the white noise.

I want you to give yourself a chance to rediscover and shift your perspective of the unknown; however intimidating it may seem. I want you to reach distant heights without ever thinking of looking back. I want you to curate your own platform as well; before anything else. In that way, you’ll be able to gain insight of your own future and for you to make peace and closure of the past.

So here’s to where your own bus stop may lead you. I hope your own journey will be fruitful and meaningful. I’ll see you when I see you.

Sincerely,

Your friend

“Your mind will take the shape of what you frequently hold in thought, for the human spirit is colored by such impressions.”

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 5.16

9 Habits To Nurture a Better Mindset for 2021

1. 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝙄𝙠𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙞.

According to the book “IKIGAI: The Japanese Secret To A Long and Happy Life” by Hector Garcia, Ikigai is a deep art of staying young while growing old. And if you actually search for the word itself by any means or medium, you will get various meanings like “𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙟𝙤𝙮, 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡-𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜”.

But what I like most about 𝙄𝙠𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙞 is finding common ground between what you love, what you care about, what the world needs and what you get paid for.

2. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬.

Take some time to make a quick detour to your favorite bookstore and browse for books that can stimulate you to become a better individual. Each of those pages will teach you how to take things calmly and lightly by trying to comprehend and understand the meaning behind each of those words as you string them into phrases. By seeking books that fit your growth and purpose, you pursue health and happiness as well.

3. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 (𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝) 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞.

…because life is indeed full of different plot twists and it’s always better to give yourself a heads up each time.

4. 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡.

When you focus more on the outcome rather than the obstacle, you’ll realize that isn’t so bad after all. Just keep growing. Keep going.

5. 𝐘ū𝐠𝐞𝐧 (幽玄)

Have you ever watched the sun rise and you’re just standing still—feeling the warmth slowly crawling into your skin? You’re present at this very moment and you’re standing on this particular spot while being fully aware of the universe triggering an emotional response that’s too deep and mysterious for words within you.

That’s yūgen.

6. 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

This phrase is a living and breathing meaning that can always speak for itself.

7. 𝐆𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞.

If it’s good for you, then go for it. There’s no rush though. Just enjoy the journey and of course, we’ll cross the bridge when we get there.

8. 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

Never stop growing and always bloom while waiting.

9. 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐡𝐨𝐰. 🍀

Cold Feet On The Kitchen Floor

There, it sits. Looking out—honey-eyed and tinged with the fracturing partition of fire from the coldness of the night; a departure…an unbecoming. Its warmth tastes like twilight mixed in a cup of coffee. If every sunrise had a definition, it would always be his ardent eyes…laughing; with his thoughts silently echoing through the vines hanging from the redwood tree.

She is slowly noticing, however quiet it may seem, it speaks vibrantly—making it so obvious for her to see. Wondering if she could pause the seconds just before his eyes start to refocus. Thinking if he can still see pieces of everything in the middle of the thoughtless pauses that could lead into anything…something, however indefinite, is all that he need to start from here.

Unsorted Thoughts That Should Never See The Light of Day

“I don’t understand. How will I ever make you understand?”

“I am worried that I will try too hard and lose you. I am worried that I will try too little and lose you.”

“Even if you can’t touch my walls, please know that what we have will still shelter you; even if you can’t see through my clouded ceiling, I will always be here for you.”

“Doubt may be as inherent as the desire to breathe, but there are still long stretches within you when you forget to breathe.”

“I imagine going home and talking through the day with you, even if I only speak about all the mundane things—dull and ordinary yet it’s a necessary thing.”

“I don’t trust myself, but I’m also the most honest, informed voice I’ve got.”

“Your name—I take a residual satisfaction every time I say it, as if what we have has become a part of its meaning.”

“I must say that there is an intimate language the two of us draft for each other, whether out loud or in our heads, on a day-to-day or moment-to-moment basis.”

“Before, I hadn’t understood how learning about you and learning about myself could happen within the same thoughts.”

“When everything seems so confusing without solace, I will always try to find your hand.”

“The best things you’ve given me can all be measured in days.”

“…the soft fabric dressing like silk, quietly holding all our patterns together.”

“I’m not sure what would happen if one morning I drank from yours and you drank from mine, but I’m glad we’ll still have to find out.”

“Opening my eyes, seeing sunlight, seeing you.”

“In a situation like this is, tell me that no matter what bad things happen, we can still make good things out of it.”

“When can I put aside my self-consciousness about talking too much in order to tell you something that I hope isn’t too much?”

“I only need one color to write down for you what all the other colors are like.”

“We’ll never change the world all at once, but I like to think both of us have a chance of altering it one person at a time.”

“Hand me your old skin, and I will get rid of it for you.”

“Sometimes I think I should tell you less; sometimes I think I should tell you more. Either way, I trust the balance.”

“Even when I pay attention, I miss things. Even when I add the sum, I can still get the numbers wrong. I know I build walls and have issues, but God knows I’m also trying so hard for you.”

“You do not always choose to be reflective; I just have to look at you the right way.”

“Still there are times I wish I didn’t have to be my own postman, that there was some separation between send and received.”

“There are days we have that can be measured in mere dozens of words, and I feel clouded because of them.”

“I like to believe that ultimately what we care about is what we are made of.”

“There are things within me that I haven’t shown, and I will not allow everyone but you—only if you choose to do so.”

“You keep the ravens in your head in a loose cage, allowing them to whisper their worst-case scenarios. But darling, shouldn’t we be setting them free?”

“I remain as devoted to your loss as I am to your victories, because I know you and I know what you mean to do.”

“Every time I speak the truth without knowing how to articulate it, I feel I haven’t lived up to the moment I wanted to create.”

“There must’ve been a moment when I don’t have to say “I’m over here,” because I can tell you already know, without having to turn.”

“I need you to believe that you are one of the certainties that holds me together.”

“I wonder how you would carry me when my thoughts weigh so much.”

 

Lover’s Dictionary by David Levithan

This Is How You Will Water A Wallflower

I don’t know how I will ever believe at the idea of meeting someone as rare as a wallflower; but I’m beginning to believe that at one moment or another, if I were lucky, I might actually meet one. Not because he is perfect or because I am, but because our combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.

If you’re a wallflower and you’re reading this, here are the things that I want for you.

I want you to chase your happiness, your dreams—the ones that have lived inside your heart since you were little, flying over cloud nine; overwhelming with elation.

Build a life you’re excited to leap out of bed even though it’s just another typical and gruesome Monday morning—a life that doesn’t have you living for the weekend, a life that isn’t about making enough money so you can retire 50 years later and finally start living.

Live today.

You deserve to devote your precious time to all those things that light your soul. Maybe it’s traveling and writing. Maybe it’s making music. Maybe it’s painting or working on something you truly are passionate about. It’s your goal. Do it every single day and we’ll always support each other in every step of the way. Become a master of your own craft in the process. Accept the fact that you can be both a masterpiece and a work in progress. Do it for no other reason than the joy it brings you.

Honor your goals and the reason why you are here. Even if you don’t think that you have anything brilliant to offer—trust me darling, you do. And once you figure out what that is, it will all finally make sense. There might be years for questions, but there will always be years for answers.

Lastly, I want you to make everything count, even in the littlest of things, and infuse all your moments with sunshine. Create your own platform even in the most mundane task or issue. Find the silver lining even on the gloomiest of days. Be grateful no matter how small.

Choose to be happy. Chase happiness. Everything else is a bonus.

Missing Sun

“If there’s anything that I should know…”, you said. Not looking at me. Just somewhere far off near my eyes and it’s startling because normally you hold my eyes so gently, I wonder how long it will take to melt with that.

I said it softly, unsurely moving but gentle fingers try to pick up the strand of your hair loosely hanging on your forehead. But you shake your head and the confusion looks a lot more blatant seeing you up close. Your expression makes me loose the sunlight I’m holding.

“If this is making you nervous…”, you eventually say and I let out a breath that gets caught before it sounds like a sigh, my eyes searching yours while I slowly whispered your first name. Replacing your nickname with more letters, tagging on to what belonged to you for a couple of years now. And I realized that I’ve never called you that before but it resonates, bounces around my mouth and down my throat and pounds with my heart as your eyes slowly searched for mine too. The twitch of a smile was there because every word I’ve said doesn’t have that much of importance except for those two syllables and you know it. Revel in it. Let it leak into parts the sunlight has missed. And right at that exact moment, I realized that I haven’t loved a person that much before—let alone myself, but maybe it all starts with you.

The Ballad Between The Moon and The Wolf

“How long can tonight last?”, asked the wolf. It whispers through the forest, like an unkempt secret and a tattoo carved deeply on the branches; spreading across the rosewood tree.

The wolf stared at the moon, glaring light throughout the valley and each night, it hunts for its own and the moon will always show the way. Relentless on its beating, the wolf slowly pressed its way through every bush, wondering how it came to a certain point of asking such an immeasurable question.

Like all the other nights, it’s dark—the wind gushing between every sleeping flesh. “I’ll only exist for a few hours.”, replied the moon softly on a cold and cloudy night. “Can I share it with you?”, asked the wolf again as it watched the trees sway across the moonlight. The moon smiled in unison.

And as the seasons change, conversations danced one word to another. And the wolf still stayed, a being made alive and adored by the moonlight. And although the wolf has only been a believer of one thing but the moon is changing it now, the moon knows differently. And even though the moon and the wolf doesn’t always use words to write, but there’s a ballad in between their fond touched smiles and the way the moon tug the covers off the wolf’s paws every single night.

“How long can a love last? How long can tonight last?”, this time it’s the moon asking to itself—and I’ve never seen shadows pour out of someone’s mouth like that.

For You

I really don’t know where to start, even though I usually don’t run out of metaphors but lately, it has been like a clouded parchment and I may or may not have riddled out everything but I’m starting to get a grasp of something. I don’t know if I’m connecting and naming the right constellations between the tiny dots that you’ve laid out on my palms but I’ve already grown a lot more familiar to you and I only know how to keep you tucked in between two random pages like my favorite love letter hoping one day you’ll find your presence in these words—how I have felt so deeply for so long yet not knowing it myself is a mystery.

And I do believe that I owe you a lot of things; things I wish I could easily do and things I wish I would’ve easily done if it were possible for me to do it. And you might have already thought that I carry a lot of metaphors in the pockets of my mind and nothing I ever say is binary. And when given the choice between a yes and a no, my palms will always reach for a maybe because maybe, maybe this time you’re starting to get a grasp of something too.

And for quite a long time, we kept watching the slow drift of seasons from our window sills in different locations. But you see, I never quite learned how to pronounce intimacy so when you try to make a home out of my barred heart, my fingers still tremble to give you the key. I’m not really that well versed in the intricacies of how I’m going to begin again so forgive me. And I also know that you’ve also been through a lot and it’s okay and I understand because like you, I also feel everything deeply. We both want the universe and everything in it. We want to hold it. We want to keep it close by and fix things to make it better. Despite of it all, we’re still the eager ones.

I wish I had answers as to why—why we’re the fragile ones. But I’d like to think that one day everything we try to give will be appreciated because truthfully, we are rare and beautiful souls. And out of the different paralleling cosmos and contradicting patterns, you’re the only one making everything a little less heavy. So wherever you are, if you feel things deeply—please don’t stop. I won’t stop either. We won’t stop trying. Soon enough, I will run across you or maybe, you’ll run across me and everything will start to feel like we’re both crashing waves trying to come home.

Until then, think of me when you’re driving in your car, when every turn you take might bring you closer to me. And I will also think of you on roads that are less travelled, on roundabouts and never-ending seams. I will think of you for the beauty in which our hearts have felt and though it will be difficult at times like how worthy things are, I will always believe in the audacity of our underlying differences and likeness. I will always believe in you. If you’re reading, these are all laid out for you.

Déjà vu

Sometimes, I take hours to remember a single word in my tongue. Then it’s suddenly six in the morning, and I’m scrabbling to urgently write down the last few words before they fade forever. I didn’t know that it was possible to write in my sleep.

It’s kind of bizarre actually.

Some days, I feel like my soul is being pulled in one direction and my heart towards the other. But the truth is, there will always be pieces of me in everything I have written. After all, what is a writer but a fragment of her own verses.

And if nothing ever comes out of it, at least I have known this feeling.

“I’ve never met you before, but I recognize this feeling.”