on the race

apparently the race is long and in the end it's only with yourself

but sometimes you want to know,

in the eyes of everyone else,

if in this race called life you've bested the person who tripped you up

and when you think about it,

you know

that in your heart and in your eyes you have

and in that realisation realise that you truly have won

Image courtesy of marco_welt on Flickr!

on who I am

"Life is a series of choices. A big combination of moments. Little ones that add up to big ones that create who you are"

Will Schuster

and I need for this next phase of my life to happen.

because I need a life that is...

more than this

more than me.

more.

Picture courtesy of angus clyne on Flickr!

on perspective

timetabling mishaps led to me being at a session a whole hour before i should have been.

I had a choice.

I could rant and rave and be upset about the mistake.

Or

I could give thanks for an unexpected hour without my laptop, to make the millions of calls and send the many texts I was owing people.

I chose the latter.

It's all about perspective

argh sniffle sob argh

a return to tea without milk

this post has been a long time coming. 3 years to be exact.

I drank tea without milk. Except as a child. When I would only drink tea and no milk. So they had to give me milk tea.

But then I drank tea without milk. Because it was what was normal.

Then I moved. Houses and countries and continents.

So fast it made my head spin.

So quickly it made me giddy.

So many sights to smell and scents to touch.

And along the way, I met people. Some drank tea with milk. Some without. Some with lemon slices. Some with condensed milk. I tried it all. And for the longest time I was content, to just drink my tea without milk.

But then you stay away for too long. And you meet people who are too strong. And so I started drinking my tea only with milk. Forgetting, or perhaps not remembering, that I liked it without.

A heartbreak and a homecoming later. I drank it exclusively with for a while. To keep that last tenuous thread intact. Then exclusively without for a while. To ensure the thread was severed.

And now, I drink it with and without. Depending on the wind and my fancies on the day.

Because you learn that real friends are like slipping on an old comfortable pair of jeans you always loved but forgot you had. that home will heal your soul and take you back, when you're grown up and ready to be taken back.

that the people and moments that matter will stick with you, no matter how you take your tea.

Tea-mages from lorises on Flickr

all bottled up

She feels all bottled up of late.

And so thinks she should write again.

Photo by the artistry of Georgia Wiggs on Flickr!

Apologise

Lyrics speak to me, for the simple reason that they say what you feel in beautiful beautiful ways.

Lately I have been dreaming, I always do. It tells me that my soul is ok. I worry when I do not. 

In my dreams of late, people from my past pop up in unusual places and situations. Last night it was a dream of Hitman and bumping into him at my friend's (who has superhero powers) wedding. He was a friend of the bride. I miss you Hitman. Pat your self on the back for me *grin*

But, I digress. There is one character that appears in my dreams every so often. The dreamer in me wants to believe that this happens when we both feel the loss of that friendship. The realist in me realises that it's probably just me and the fact that grudges are not my natural state of being.

There was a time when this song was indeed true of this relationship of mine. I did love this person with a fire red and it did turn blue. And no I would not take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you. No longer, not any more. It really is too late to apologise.

Apologise or not though, I forgive you. As Ghandi once said- If we practice and eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, soon the whole world will be blind and toothless. The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the Strong.

So really, there is no shame in saying it would be nice to one day, once again, be able to take a fall for you. There is no shame in saying I miss you.

Inspired

Now I know that God gives us all different talents and strengths. I know I have been blessed with many abilities. And I am thankful.

But really, do some people have to be so freaking musically talented?! It really gets my goat and makes me want to kick them!

I have to work really really hard at being able to play any musical instrument and even then it's not brilliant, just good. It's not talent, it's passable.

I can't help but feel that much music these days is rather uninspired. It now normally relies on the lyrics to make or break the song. 

I have to admit, that is why I initially loved Coldplay's Viva la Vida, it was the lyrics. It was when they sang "I know Saint Peter won't call my name". It was the rush of heady, rebellious, me- against- the- world- and- i- don't- give- a- crap.

But then I didn't know it could sound like this...

This... is truly inspired...

back and melancholy

She is back to this virtual world this girl. She has been absent for a rather long time.

Funny how in her moments of melancholy she finds herself back to the writing. This must be a hard blog to read.

It has been a good few months. She will tell all in the posts to come. She is indeed very blessed. 

But at the moment she feels like the black and white parts of a picture accented in red if that makes any sense to anyone else at all. Like a Gaugin, somehow sombre in vivid technicolour.

But for now suffice to say, she is feeling melancholic, wondering why, wondering how, wondering, wondering wondering....

Image courtesy of SayDirect on Flickr.

all my bags are (not quite) packed

... and i'm (not quite) ready to go

Today I started packing. 

A little anal I know as the move is 10 weeks away. But the elves that Santa is lending me to help me move are leaving in approximately 3 weeks and seeing as how I don't know how much stuff is moving with me I thought I should make full use of the said elves.

and as I thought of packing, suddenly the magnitude of what I am doing HIT me.

I do not know how to pack for this move. i lived away for almost a decade and never had a problem. some moves were more bitter than others. leaving England was painful to say the very least. but none before this one has had quite this much finality. it is a somewhat edifying thought that mum and dad are not turning my room into a home gym, that they're not taking down the photographs and boxing away the trophies. that they will keep this room mine. that there will always be room here for me.

but it doesn't change the fact that below the surface, this move is a resounding close to life as i know it. i don't mourn it's passing. i am excited beyond measure for the start of the new chapter and i know from the very core of me that i have chosen the right man to keep me company on this journey. but i mourn all that i leave behind. or more accurately, who i leave behind.

i am rubbish at goodbyes. i don't know how to to them without a stuffed up nose, red eyes and a tear stained face. and this will be one giant goodbye won't it?

yes yes i know that it's only two hours flight away, and the internet is great and all that malarkey, but really, let's not ease the blow. i am leaving everything that has been a constant in this nomadic life of mine. and it was that constant that made it a little bit easier. it's like that bit from my favourite Donne poem

If they be two, they are two so

As stiff twin compasses are two;

Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show

To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,

Yet, when the other far doth roam,

It leans and hearkens after it,

And grows erect, as that comes home.

A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning

John Donne

i don't know how to leave Mum and Dad. i don't know how to cope with knowing that i will never live under the same roof as them anymore. i don't know how to deal with the fact that should something happen, i will not be there. i will instead be at the mercy of aeroplane schedules. can i really make sure they're ok from that distance? is it normal to feel like you're breaking a promise you made to them at birth? the promise that you would be there for them when they're old and grey, that you would make sure that they're ok?

there's that story about the person with the patchwork heart. you know the one. about the person who gave pieces of his heart to people that he met. well it's always felt a little like that for me. now more so than ever. because the pieces of my heart will definitely be separated by the seas.

like i said, i'm rubbish at goodbyes.

image courtesy of mainemomma2007 on Flickr.

*hyperventilate*

My To- Do List is 3 and a half pages long...

and I have 70 days...

and 6 kg to lose...

*gulp*

oh i wish i were a tai tai with chopsticks in my hair?

NB:- For the non- asian lingo people out there a "tai tai" is a stereotypical rich chinese lady of leisure :)

Image Courtesy of { Karen } on Flickr.

Truly...

... if God made you, He's in Love with me as Five for Fighting says.

A wonderful woman of refreshing faith I know, reminds me constantly that The Will of God will never send you where the Grace of God cannot keep you.

And you truly are part of that Grace extended to me, for just in the nick of time

He brought you to me.

Image courtesy of Shelby Nycole on Flickr.

Starry Starry Night

because his work paints beautiful images in my soul

because his life story plucks at the heartstrings and touches a chord

because of the understated beautiful melancholy of the music and words of this song

but Don McLean was right...

Perhaps we never will

Fur, thank you for reminding me how much I've always loved this piece.

Video courtesy of tdifatta on youtube.

on rain

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass

It's about learning to dance in the rain...

Image Courtesy of xmonstermaggie on Flickr

dream dream dream, when i need you...

I'd like to be married to you now.

Pleasethankyou.

Image Courtesy of Steena on Flicker.

rewind

What I would give

to have Soba noodles with you today


Image Courtesy of Sakichin on Flickr.

what a differance a year makes

random fact number 96

Treasury Tags remind me of exams.

Exams remind me of Hitman and how we would always wonder what we would hear if we could read minds, when the invigilator says "5 Minutes!"

We always figured it would be a collective "AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

*LoL*

Hitman if you're reading this, pat yourself on the back *grin*

Image Courtesy of viodyna on Flickr.

a dream is a wish your heart makes

when you're fast asleep

because...

even when you've been granted the serenity to accept the things you cannot change

sometimes, when all is said and done

the heart still yearns...

Dreaming with a Broken Heart

John Mayer

When you're dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part

You roll outta bed and down on your knees

And for the moment you can hardly breathe

Wondering was she really here?

Is she standing in my room?

No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....

When you're dreaming with a broken heart

The giving up is the hardest part

She takes you in with her crying eyes

Then all at once you have to say goodbye

Wondering could you stay my love?

Will you wake up by my side?

No she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....

Now do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hands

Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?

Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?

Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my , roses in my hands?

Would you get them if i did?

No you won't, 'cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....

When you're dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part

Image Courtesy of Deepa.Praveen on Flickr.

of pyjamas and things

I slipped into my pyjamas last night and curled into bed with my favourite pillow and a good book.

then the edges of my consciousness were awakened to a different time by the scent that wafted up from this old pair of PJ's.

they smelt of a different life and many many moons ago. the smelt of my apartment in Toronto, the bed I hardly slept in, the couch i spent far too many nights on, the kitchen and dining room I was proud of. they smelt of my first real taste of being a grown up.

a lot changed for me that year. i had a complete life earthquake. it was a year of many many firsts. in one flight, my whole world had turned on its head. i left my first grown up relationship (i came back to it and left it again many times that year which probably didn't help any), started my first job and started living alone in my own apartment in one fell swoop. i also decided to do it in a new city on a new continent.

*grin* I never was one for doing anything by halves.

it was the year i discovered a love for hiking and learnt to knit and sail. the year i fell in love with good photography. it was the year dance was rekindled in the form of Lindy hop. the year i realised who my friends really were. the year of devouring books by the harbour in the midst of a hot T.O. summer's day with a delicious ice- cream cone.

it was a growing year that i loved and abhorred in equal measure and i would never want to relive it that exact same way again.

it's perhaps the only year i harbour any regrets from. i was so caught up in trying to survive that i forgot to live. so intent on keeping afloat that i forgot i could swim. i spent too much time in bed, afraid of the world and not enough time living in it.

and though perhaps i could blame someone else for that, at the end of the day to use a ridiculously cliched phrase, no one is the captain of my own destiny but me. but you get through the darkness in your own time, in your own way.

No.

I wouldn't relive it the exact same way.

I would relive it and do it very very differently.

In the hopes of taking away more than I did the first time around.

Image courtesy of getthebubbles on Flickr.