Allowing

“I felt its warmth. Wrapped around me like a cotton duvet of comfort and love. It was not assurance, nor certainty. It’s just.. knowing. Allowing the sensation to be felt. Allowing the colors in my head to prove its magic. Allowing every piece unfold in its own intelligence. A feeling of observing. Of not holding anything in.  Of just, allowing. Opening up the gates. Receiving and believing. Coming up with ideas, expressing. And then writing—thru spaces in between, with no explaining. Clarity in the midst of complexity. No need for validation. No need for a guideline to follow. No need to restrict oneself with old rusty chains of death. No more. It’s ending.”

I worked out intensely a couple of days ago and my body still feels sore from it. My boyfriend told me that the culprit is this thing called “DOMS” (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness), and that this is normal. I believe it so. It’s not the first time it happened. But, something dawned on me as I whined about it while I massage my shoulders and arms using my usual Chinese ointment—I am feeling. I am feeling and I know it’s quite a normal thing, but I’m celebrating. I am feeling and I am connecting. There were times I craved to put the heater of my shower on max just so I can feel that sensation. That hurting. The subtle pins of torture, but ones that were satisfying. Could hardly explain why numbness occurs. Maybe it’s ‘cause of too much suffering that it kind of loses its own purpose. Or maybe your dosage kept on increasing, as your pain threshold stretches, like the strong caffeine in my coffee that now makes me sleepy. How ironic. Like when you experience an anxiety attack and its frequency multiplies, then you become numb, clueless, unconscious, unknown. A dark void. Dark poetry written out of confusion. Dark set of words being dictated, unaware of its source. What’s going on? I wanted to talk about my body and how happy I felt to feel again. But the dark side of me wanted to own the spotlight, again. I’m allowing, nonetheless. I’m allowing myself bathe in these shadows. Because, this is the only way I could feel. The only way I could let light in. 

I say, jump and be embraced by the depths of your darkness. Fear not, for it is fleeting. Feel your skin as if you are your skin. It’s funny how my connection to my body mirrors my slow internet connection here at home. Every time I play my favorite FPS game Valorant that requires a low ping, it disconnects, then I had to restart, then it connects again. The cycle repeats. I need an upgrade. Both my Wi-Fi and myself. Would I also pay a higher price when I upgrade myself? Maybe. Or maybe not. But most likely. The point is, sometimes I am connected, sometimes I’m not. It’s more volatile than the fluctuations of the crypto market. I’m allowing, nonetheless. The meditation helps. But the inconsistency doesn’t. Often times during meditation I ask myself if I’m doing it right. Or I debate with my own inner dialogue that questions the idea of my feet touching the ground when I’m living at a high floor and the ground is way below me. It’s insane. The voice would say just observe and yes I’m trying. I’m getting there. At least, that’s what I think. A wise friend of mine suggested a book called Awareness by Osho which helped me exercise observing my thoughts. I haven’t finished it though but it’s cut-throat with a straightforward punch. I like it. 

And this is what I like about my allowing. I allow myself to tell stories completely irrelevant to the previous points and find my way to its connection to one another. There are some dots that do connect in here though, don’t you think? Nevertheless, I enjoyed releasing what this complex mind has to say today. And I’m glad I get to share it with you. I write everyday but I don’t like posting everything publicly here. But today it’s different. I am being called to post something here in my blog. Again, I’m just allowing. I don’t know why I wanted to talk to you today. It’s just, freeing for me to do so. If you reach the end of this nonsensical and complex maze of thoughts, thank you. Maybe it’s about time you do this too. Like having no solid plan of what to write, what to create; what to accomplish. And completely unattached to its results. Just allowing your fingers do its role, as it becomes the Executive Assistant of the CEO in your brain, and heart (if you write from the heart too). I’m writing, in the now. With no attachment of whether or not it’s grammatically aligned. The heart knows no rules. And in this piece of writing, my heart is the one who allowed me to be in this state of, you know it, allowing. I think my babbling have to stop here. That single-word title have already proven its point. Contradicting an old belief structure of having clear goals to hit. I do think that I enjoy more when I am not expecting to accomplish a particular result I picture in my head. I love it better that I don’t aim to be perfect nor the best. It’s fun to observe the process takes place naturally and to feel that sense of fulfilment, every step of the way.

eyes that feel, body that aches

Depth. Warmth. Mystery.

Too much. Too much of it. 
Sometimes i feel like I’m going insane.
For questioning—
the how i feel quite intensely
with no proper reasoning.
How the outsides quickly mirror the insides,
how the dreams manifest in real life,
how the symbols contradict 
only to synchronize in time;
and how you never seek for signs
but have them knock on your door 
way too many times.

How you sometimes deny
the magic and the fire
as it burns you to death
and to be rebirthed with its own light.
Dying and living—and a loop that is never-ending.
The crying to bed at night 
and the waking up with swollen eyes that feel its aftermath.
No, I don’t see it. 
I don’t see why.
But i was given two sides of the coin of life. 
The duality of which, i have to master in time.

No, i don’t see it.
I don’t even get it.
But i was given this depth of feels to be felt,
and maybe not yet to understand
the sudden body signals,
the splenic insights,
and the ancient whispers of light.
No I don’t see it. 
But the eyes that feel and the body that aches, 
has always been right. 

A shot of blur

Blur, I might but you’d still see.

Not with the eyes but the one’s within;

Trick, I try but you’d still feel—

How magical the heart that beats art for a living.

Slow down, you can, and trust it will be.

The dawn will welcome you before the sun shines brightly.

Believe, you should, no matter how blurry.

See, if everything is clear, how boring would that be?

A time for art, a time for poetry. I believe that today, more than ever, is the best time to create. To do something magical as you tap into your truth. To make something out of nothing—or that one that sparked inspiration from within. Yes that’s it, that’s the seed you need. A seed to plant that will grow over the years. And who knows, maybe, trees will multiply and duplicate until it becomes a forest 🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳 a forest of your authenticity, a forest of your own unique art.

Most of the time, I don’t understand everything. And boy, this mind loves to question and know all it can dive deep. But as i capture this motion blur, i learned that it’s okay if it’s blurry. That I’m fine even though I’m not on point. And that it’s okay to not know. That figuring things out and analyzing every inch of details might only give me stress and wrinkles and maybe some disease. And no, I don’t want that. And being okay with a blur gave birth to this short but meaningful poem. Hope you like it ♥️ and if you don’t, well that’s okay as well 😁

Don’t read this if you’re highly sensitive

This day felt like a day of survival. A day of waiting for the sun to set so it can rise again tomorrow. Such a paradox really but earlier i was getting a little impatient, yet again. Things don’t seem to be working. Walking along this path that has little to no form of lighting. It’s too dark but holding on tight with this wand of faith handed to me by God when He instructed me to go to this direction. My grip is tight, a bit afraid that it slips off my hand. ‘Cause it’s the only thing I have that keeps me going. To look past the limits of my eyes, to search beyond the unsearchable and to try to grasp the shaky uncertainty that tests me.

Should i keep moving or should i go back? What if there’s nothing in there? What if I’m just wasting my time? What if my intuition was wrong? What if this isn’t really where I’m supposed to be? Will there be light if i kept on walking or am I just fooling myself?

These are my everyday questions. My everyday eerie movie. My everyday battle against the demons in my head that are seemingly obsessive. Well, maybe the rollercoaster effect is to blame. The highs and lows of the ride that give the same amount of shitty feeling. The seesaw syndrome of my extremity. Of my duality that makes and then breaks me. It’s just, hard—To live in the present moment. To just be. But I’m trying. God knows I’m trying. But sometimes the pushing to be present hurts. Maybe because it requires of force. Not like a normal gravitational pull like how i am with my writing, with my words, with the world i create out of my imagination. But I’m not allowed to stay there for long. I HAVE TO stay in the present reality.

And I guess there would really be times like these where I couldn’t get my shit together and that I have to push things. And I think this rythym of pushing with so much force will never stop hurting if I don’t stop trying to control things the way i want it. And hell, I know this already, don’t I? Why do i keep on doing the same old shit?

Earlier i thought to myself: this transformation journey sucks. It fucking hurts. The breaking of old patterns just so i can be better. The changing of habits just so i can be consistent. The allowing of things to unfold at the right time so i can be patient. The loving myself first so I can love others more. The building of self-worth so I won’t be needing of validation from other people anymore. And the fucking slowing down and the fucking details! It sucks. It hurts. But it’s essential for my growth. And it’s all for my highest good. Fine. Let me convince myself of this positive fucked up self-help theme of the world right now. To be self-reliant, to know how to self-regulate and to be self-aware! They sound so simple but it isn’t.

P.s. I know this too shall pass. I just had to blurt it out and felt like posting it. If you reached until this postscript, then i guess you’re not highly sensitive at all 😁 (But please excuse my language.)

Pps. I’M NOT GIVING UP.

Why this action of inaction is killing me while making me feel alive, ironically.

For those people who know me personally, you know exactly how much of an optimist and an idealist I am and how i love looking at the brighter side of things, because we should always be positive amidst the crisis, right? This time, however, I’d like to be completely honest. Recently, I was feeling down—sad, anxious and just not okay. Thus, the isolation. The detaching. The not-replying. The disconnecting.

I have all the time to listen closely to my thoughts and feelings but i was resisting it. I hated feeling what I was feeling because I thought I should be strong, eh? But hell, I’m not. I’m just human. A human being, not a “human doing” who’s tricked that you should always be doing things in order to be good, to be accepted, to be… human. But fact of the matter is, we are supposed to feel, all sorts of emotions (including those we label as bad), and that we are given this uncomfortable time to sit with it because no matter how much we avoid these unwanted emotions by distracting ourselves with Netflix and games and whatnot, we know, that it’s there. And gaahh, it’s killing me. But ironically, it also makes me feel alive—and let me tell you why.

Now that we’re approaching the so-called “Age of Aquarius” where everything spiritual is heightened, this is creating a holistic discomfort in all of us, worldwide. And I don’t mean that in a drama way. I mean, whatever is happening in the world right now is quite different, don’t you think? Hence, my point being is this: if you feel like dying without really approaching real death, that means you’re living. Okay, that’s quite esoteric but i hope you get what i mean.

Stepping into my highly philosophical self, i feel that everything that’s happening globally (that affects us on a personal level) is meant to happen, is meant to make us feel anxious, depressed, lonely and that it’s gonna be magnified even more because this is no longer the time of doing things the same old way. This is the time we break those old patterns that are no longer serving us well. Time to reflect on who you are in this world and how you can change for the better. Time to focus on your beingness. Time to convert mundane activities to purposeful ones. Time to create deeper connections than skin-deep ones. And most importantly, time to have faith, more than ever.

I hate admitting to people that I’m not okay. For reasons that i know everyone feels it too one way or another and that I don’t wanna burden those people around me and that they might think i have all the reasons to be grateful for and all that shit. But choosing to be vulnerable isn’t really a sign of weakness. It’s a sign that no matter who you think you are in this world, despite your worldly accomplishments and possessions, you are allowed to not be okay. Sit with it, journal it, listen and don’t ignore. Feel the pain until there’s nothing left. Everything falls into an equilibrium, anyway. Ah, my favorite word. And let me end this by saying something corny like, “We got this, humans!!!”

The art of balance

Recently, I was at my peak state. Highly energetic, full of life and almost always passionate with the work I’m doing. Too hectic that I didn’t find the time to write. There were times, however, that I decided i would write, but it seemed as though my muse weren’t in the mood to show up. Thus I didn’t come looking for it. I gave in to the chaos in my head—put the pen and paper aside and ignored the voices in my head that wanted to be written and be heard.

My problem is, i am currently obsessed. I say “obsessed” because i want to put emphasis on the fact that it’s REALLY bad. I am getting too obsessed with winning that all i get to think of was that goal. My mind became restless. My boyfriend even told me the other night that i came to a point where i sleep-talk, murmuring some things about work—and that’s where it hit me.

Though it’s true, that there’s nothing wrong about working so hard and focusing on a goal and getting all things done and believing that you will achieve it and actually making it happen but the question is—are you progressing? Am I progressing? The answer is NO. I am not growing because I don’t get to enjoy the process of winning because all i care about was getting it. My Reticular Activating System has overruled and programmed me well enough to focus on that goal that the rest of what used to matter a lot, started to matter less and lose its significance.

And that’s where the problem comes in. It’s when you wallow yourself in with long hours of work, thinking day and night of how to achieve the desires of your heart that you tend to forget how to pause and be grateful. We need to treat ourselves of some REAL kind of rest where you would stop stressing yourself out about your goals and targets and dreams and just about anything that drives you mad. It’s okay to be crazy and to be passionate and to be focused but hey, don’t forget to recharge your batteries. Don’t drain yourself too much and have some fun. I’m writing this at 2am as a note to myself with hopes that it will serve as a wake up call to all of you out there who’s been working so hard. I salute you. But please, don’t forget to take a break and learn to master the art of balance.