I confess that I never considered myself a Murakami die-hard. He is not someone on my radar. I never know when he has a book coming up and have let my friends recommend me his books over the years. My friend, S, from college is the first person to ever recommend me his books. I think it was Dance, Dance, Dance or A Wild Sheep Chase. But, neither of those stories stuck. By the time an ex recommended Norwegian Wood (in my senior year)—I didn’t think I would like any of his works. However, I read these titles at a time when I was very hateful and critical of a lot of things. Finally, after graduating college, it was 1Q84 and The Wind-up Bird Chronicles that finally brought me out of my Murakami rut.

I’m glad I waited before getting into this particular one. It feels as though it came from his soul. Learning that this story was re-written from an earlier time when the idea first came to him, added to the feeling of wonder throughout. It stays with you. You want to sit with it for a while. The Murakami Bingo Card definitely entered my mind as the story went on.

Towards the end of the novel, I got excited to finish and then I did the thing that I said I wasn’t doing at the start of this post, and I binge-read the last few chapters. Joke’s on me though, I’ve now read Part III, a couple more times and it was only in this last listening of the e-book (and not the re-reading the physical book) that I feel as though I ‘understood’ it.

**SPOILER:** I believe he finally returns to face and live ‘reality’/the ‘real’ world he was half-hearted about. I want to believe that he returns to the life he would occasionally “leave”/disassociating from, and brought his shadow and “full” self back in.

#books #writing

It’s okay. Tomorrow’s a new day. I can try to sleep and then wake up early to reset. I think I only have one work call in the afternoon.

It was raining madly by the time I had the energy to leave the house. I wanted to sell some books to a second-hand bookstore and also print a poster for one of my clients. These were the top items on my to-do list before my evening work shift. As I settled the paper size and type and the poster was sent for printer, I only had to walk a few paces towards the second-hand bookstore. I was afraid the rain had damaged the books slightly, but I was glad to see that my tote bag had protected them. I placed Books 3 to 6 of the Dune series and 4 other titles that were either left or given to me by friends on the counter—the man behind it told me he could only give me $3 for them. I figured that was better than nothing. And because of the rain, I didn’t want to have to haul them back to my studio. $3 for all of that, and I still felt triumphant for removing things from my apartment.

I picked up the poster I had printed and before heading home, I checked how it turned out. The blue was not the blue I had hoped and the paper was glossier than I expected. Worse, the emojis that were part of the design did not print at all, and in their place were simply white shadows of their form. I’m not using Ad0be suites anymore and using Canv4 instead so I wasn’t as familiar about preparing the files/settings for printing. It’s also been a minute since I’ve had to print anything without the guidance of a graphic designer who had studied these things. I now realize that I hadn’t selected that the PDF be flattened before exporting. Anyway, instead of paying another $12 to re-print, I had the idea to drop by the art supply store for construction paper and glue to DIY it when I got home. It didn’t take too long. I managed to finish it in less than an hour and I’m quite pleased with how it turned out.

I have been researching about the Yin-Yang. I’m learning how the 'west’ and Victoria-era scholars in their discovery of it, of course, butchered its original interpretation. It’s not merely about balance. It’s not about opposing forces. It’s kind of like Zen. Everything is in constant motion/transformation and change. Yin-Yang is better explained as two sides of the hill. Yin is the shaded side and Yang, the sunny side. They may seem like two opposing forces, but they are actually two phases of qi (vital energy or life force) in their eternal cycle of transformation. “You can't have one without the other because they're not actually separate.” In other words, it’s a bit like non-duality. In their own being-ness, they form parts of a whole. And the little circle in each—these represent that they contain seeds of each other too. Beautiful. I guess it makes sense I’m only encountering this now, since I had been reading more Japanese Zen Buddhist texts, which has so much literature, I’ve barely touched the surface of that.

#writing #tao #learning

I woke up later than I was meant to yesterday. It’s my own doing. I’m trying to squeeze time writing at unorthodox hours, but then I end up watching YouTube, which depletes and distracts me. I also had a very social week. I’ve noticed that when I do have less time for myself, I tend to get tired quickly.

New friends (through another friend L) were hosting a Blu-Ray screening of What a Way to Go! a film released in 1964 around lunch time and I only woke up 1 hour before it was meant to start. I took my time and texted that I would be late, and ended up arriving an hour later than the time on the calendar invite. This would have normally made me spiral into a certain state of mind, and feel like a bad friend, but I have decided that on weekends especially, Chronos, should not be followed, and should take a back seat. I picked up some goods at the bakery first but by the time I showed up, I still had only missed 20 minutes or so of the film. They were sweet enough to pause it for me so I could settle in. A&C, our hosts, were such a laid-back and sweet couple. They let us, the guests occupy the couch, so 4 of us were cozily squeezed in, and made sure we had pillows, blankets, snacks, and everything.

C had a DJ set at one of the local parties afterwards so that’s where 5 out of the group of 7 headed right after. Needless to say, I danced my pants off all Sunday. I didn’t stay till the end of the headliner DJ’s set though, but I figured since I stepped foot on the dance floor at 4pm (barely anyone else was dancing), I was allowed to leave whenever I fancied. In my mind, I wanted to get home before the crowds restlessly headed out together. Parties can be chaotic in the aftermath, everyone either trying to get a private car, or walking towards the bus stop. And besides, I had a printer with me (yes, a whole machine in a large brown paper bag) and decided to trek towards the nearest bus stop as soon as I found a peaceful moment to do so.

I’ve been taking the physical copy of the book I’m reading around with me on my commute. Right now it’s Haruki Murakami’s latest The City and Its Uncertain Walls. Unlike Miranda July’s All Fours, which is the last novel I remember enjoying with the same interest and enthusiasm, I am reading this one slowly and pausing to put it down between chapters. I had consciously decided not to bring it with me to the film screening, but I did borrow a book at A&C’s house so that kept me company on my bus ride home. It’s Mark Ronson’s memoir called Night People: How to be a DJ in ‘90s New York City. It’s charming, but I don’t know that I’ll finish it. I like his persona on the page, but I didn’t realize until I started to read, how privileged and nepotistic his upbringing was. I didn’t know he was a son of a former famous person. This is not anything I think he is meant to feel guilty about, but the fact itself does not make me feel drawn to his world either. The growing up in NYC in the ‘90s part intrigued me, but as I kept turning each page, I can’t help but notice that a lot of his success in the world appeared before him because of his privilege. I’m turned off because I don’t get a sense of self-reflection on that.

Card Pulled from the MW deck: “Tornado Girl” Reading the meaning, I can feel that something has changed. I’ve been transported to a different landscape in a new body, and I’ve not been here before as this “self”. I wonder about the adventure that awaits.

#writing #daily #taro

I do derive joy from design, but because I never went to school for it, it was something I would usually distance myself from because “that’s not my wheel house”. I’ve felt that I’ve dismissed any design work I did. Maybe at the beginning, there was some pride and awe and then, eventually, slowly, it was a lot of pushing it away from me.

After all the design-related events this last week, and moments to ponder about what it means to me, I realize that it actually means a lot. I care about typography, colours, and visual flow. My family was a very creative and visual one. I wouldn’t have the aesthetic sense or language I have, if my family didn’t care about the beauty and being-ness of things.

One question is do I want this to be my career? Nah. Another that comes to mind is how much of it do I bring with me in this next shift?

#writing #design

I have leaned so much into my intuition that I can’t even question it anymore. Goosebumps all day, every day. The woo is a wooooey/lovely feeling, but I remember when I still wasn’t able to trust it. These days, I don’t need anyone to validate anything anymore. I don’t need solid answers, I just know. Yes, no, or maybe (which still means a no).

It’s funny and strange to look back and see the way I came from, and where I am now. I came from a place of many fears. Many Catholic sort of fears too. Dark. Haunted. Things. I was born into Catholicism and “left” The Church after university. I don’t follow any Catholic ritual or prayer, but I do revere and honor the mother of mothers, Mother Mary. I’m also not saying that I have absolutely no fears anymore. They come and visit, but it’s easier for me to recognize them when they are here, and that I know that I don’t want them staying ‘round for tea. Maybe a greeting and then a brief exchange about the weather, but that’s about it. I recognize them well enough, but I don’t want to hear too much from them. My fears are, after all formless feelings. They do not appear as they used to do in my Catholic brain, or how they are portrayed in scary films or media, in very ghastly and mangled/disfigured ways. They are just formless, heavier feelings.

The energies that doubt/or do not accept Truth, the answer, the culmination or conclusion of something—are unwilling or not ready to hear them yet. That’s all. There is no right or wrong way, in this game that is life. Things simply are. This is that feeling. No need to push back, or push away. Meet the wave as it comes, if it comes. Meet the moment, whatever is in that moment. However that moment is unraveling. Wherever you are, you are home.

#writing #daily

There are times when I won’t remember very much in the morning, but then if I concentrate hard enough, I am able to retrieve them. I usually pause and try really hard to come up with tiny elements or recall a tiny fragment—eventually, bigger chunks of the dreams emerge.

I notice that a lot of what I dream about has something to do with my every day. They don’t come from nothing. Whether it’s about eating less meat, or about my partner. All is one. Everything is connected.

Let’s do a card pull this evening: The Tyrant. Of course, I pull this one. I’ve just spent most of my day in front of the computer making graphics and working for this job that barely cares about me. I need to care about myself. In our society, where FREE love and care are so scarce.

Where Money is worshiped like God, we must remember to care. To let go of all that we think we must do. What are we called to do? What am I being called to do?

#writing #daily #tarot

It takes time to reduce your life to more manageable chunks. You need time to look at the things and cull. And I’d been putting this off.

I took out the piles of clothes and began to sort. Some of the things, I knew I wouldn’t ever wear again so without hesitation, I’ve stacked them in a “To Swap” pile. Some things are pretty or usefull, l but I know I’d never actually find any use for them so I have a “To Give” pile. I was thinking of walking around the neighborhood and carrying a few of the smaller items around and just randomly find people to gift them to. Of course, I would be discerning and approach only those who seemed friendly.

Baby steps.

#writing #daily

I reached a boiling point and allowed myself to get to uncharted levels of frustration. Very unusual for me because anger is not my best suit. Because of the mood swing, I wrote nothing in my journal/diary and sat for a while in that timeless feeling.

I get very aware when my body is upset. My voice cracks. I feel very vulnerable. I feel like my not-self. I note that I haven’t been meditating at a regular time. My routine and discipline is neither here nor there.

I need to create a schedule and routine that includes more silence and meditation throughout my day and certain immovable things like our Fridya meditations.

Ideally, during the weekdays especially, I am meditating before coffee. Before 9am. After a stretch. Then, after a slowed down moment in my bed. Then again, checking-into my body in the middle of my day at 2pm or 3pm. Then once more winding down my evening. It was really lovely in Santa Barbara, meditating in the cold crisp late evenings.

The goal is to find somewhere new to work by December. For now, let’s keep going. Keep being… transparent.

There was a video that showed up on my feed today (now Saturday when I send this off) about how—we are all trying to find an identity, but if our aim is to be more transparent, to be more “nothing”, it will help us find peace.

Applying that to what happened last week. I got angry, because I’ve been so frustrated in my work, not feeling seen, not feeling trusted, not feeling recognized—this is the ego wanting to be a certain form or shape.

So then my anger and defensiveness shot up.

So what if I was just more… transparent?

#writing #knowthyself

Chaos and such scenes, are always finding him—but maybe it’s because, we each call upon and even, welcome that energy? That neither of us are afraid of it?

Anyway, I’m obsessed with him. It’s not a secret. I was also speaking to a friend over the weekend, that that’s how you find longevity in partnership. Find someone you can be sustainably obsessed with, who is equally obsessed with you. Healthily obsessed with? I’m here, and he’s there, but we are fundamentally connected. For the first time in my love life, I feel a very calm bond with someone. The connectedness. The magnetism of connection beyond the physical, that it is hard to describe. True and pure connection. I believe our meditation has something to do with it but maybe it’s also because in the philosophies, studies, teachings I/we follow, the world and things are less separate—there is more spaciousness and in that spaciousness, love is the guiding force and principle. And if love is the guiding force and principle, you always invite it to the moment. Even when it’s one of those moodier days. Even if you’re shaken by life happening and things are going haywire and wayward, when you leave a little gap for love—there is a lightness to things, and the moment can be filled with more ease.

Suffering in duality. It seems that part of being human, means that we have to first feel the pain of duality in the physical world. To be in the mud. Even how the body was structured has dualism and disparity/disjointedness. To be feeling your body in the mud. Perhaps we have to be aware of that first, before we can learn to recognize and be aware of the love that unifies, and the joy in all things.

#writing #tarot #love #daily #braindump

Besides, it is more likely they would be in their feelings and more focused on my death, than whatever post-humous life statement I leave behind.

This is my motivation to get my life in order. The prospect of sudden death and my beloved friends and family having to deal with what I leave behind. I plan to lessen and remove things from the storage, a few times a week—let’s say three—but so far since quitting one of my part-time jobs at the end of January, I have only managed to do two legitimate excavations of mostly clothes, since there is a thrift store conveniently located across the street from me.

I feel no guilt about this. I am just stating facts. I promised myself to rest all of February and to only really “plan” and make bigger moves in March.

Friends have complimented my style, but many don’t realize I tend to love to repeat outfits. When I went away for my silent meditation retreat, I brought enough underwear but only 3 outfits for the ten-days. That time was the most “myself” and liberated I have ever felt.

February came close to that feeling. I slept so much last month and feel so clear-minded. It is quite absurd and ridiculous that rest is an exception and not the norm.

#writing #daily