the artfulness of empty.

-


where does most beauty come from?

it is the emptiness of my life. the spaces that have been void of substance and divinity, courtesy towards the elements that coincide in a way to co-create the blessing of Life. 


it is not the emptiness itself, but the way of being that evolves to be of worship and service to it. I’ve been reading and listening into the future of this world and how soon enough, one day, this world that was historically constructed will fall out of context. we shall be left with an emptiness so profound, except for the practices that have always been relational, invested in the divinity of liveliness, animated in its time-bound, placed context, energetically profound in meaning that is inherent and transferable through the heart.


I can relate to that a lot. 


it’s the scarred experiences of my life that have blessed the artistry of committing to recreating them in a way that fills one with aliveness, rather than drains it with a dark void. I witnessed a glimpse of it just this morning when I found my heart recreating the emptiness of my day in colours of kindness, participation and acts of divine love that just simply scream out the right to radiate from within us.


it is the emptiness of our life that ultimately allows us to fill the space with our divine existence. the life in me remains to refuse to become swallowed by the void.

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

a letter to my father.

-
Image
I thought I’d be writing this to you on a different day I had visualised for years. the day I’d be free. the day you wouldn’t be here anymore and I’d have the valiance to finally scream out all my unkempt anger. this day has come sooner than I’d expected, and in different circumstances. much better than I’d hoped them to be. and I have some things I want to say. I want to tell you that you’ll always be the greatest source of hurt and pain. I hadn’t seen anyone who had hurt me and who would ever hurt me more than you. it is diabolical to how much lengths you’ve crossed just to inflict me, my mother and my sister — and my whole family — with pain that we need so much time and effort to heal. it’s unreasonable how you never listened to me despite telling you countless times that I did not feel well. it’s terrible that you’d blocked all of my attempts to talk to you honestly.  I want to tell you that you did not give me a choice but to lie to you. anytime I’d say or you’d discover the trut
click to read

Sitting With Myself.

-
Image
It’s never been so sweet to be with myself as it is now, perhaps it starts with a little bit of numbness and pain, a little bit of restlessness and confusion— but the answers always come. The answer to true rapture and love always come in time. I’ve numbed myself with so many dependencies and false beliefs. I’ve numbed and emptied my heart with the perception that there is so much to be done, that I’m not proficient enough, that I shouldn’t even try to give myself space to do something new that a sacred voice within me longs to immerse itself into. It’s profusely and perplexingly arduous to learn sometimes, especially when it comes to what I devotedly care about, like teaching and being with children and painting and singing. The experience is turned into a challenge so harrowing to start and keep it up when my critical voice keeps finding excuses to not even try. The hardest time for me is perhaps when I come back from work. There is this sinking sensation the moment I step inside, it
click to read

a goodbye’s grief.

-
Image
there are only hours left, and the only thing I want to keep doing is stay invisible. stay in the gloaming silence of being out of reach. slipping away smoothly, making no sound, till one day I’m just not here. I keep telling my learners “ you won’t feel it when I leave ”. one day, they’ll be here again, and I’ll be gone.  my name will be a distant echo in the daylight sunshine. something to remember slightly. a remembrance that never lingers, I hope. I just wonder what could have happened if I had been more prominently alive in this world. just imagine how it would be if I could hear and feel every single heart tear apart at the thought of me leaving. how grateful I am that my presence had always been fleeting, almost incomprehensibly inexistent. with this subtle existence, it still hurts, tremendously so.  I’ve always dreaded goodbyes. it’s never been that difficult as it is now.  I’ve said goodbye to every single tree I love. every single cloud. why am I tearing is what I don’t know
click to read

Enrapturing Highlights of 2023.

-
Image
alas, it is the last day of one of the most challenging years of my life: 2023– a pyramidal year. I’m posting this as the fireworks blare across the frosty skies of a town I love with all my heart, my heart breaking in infinite gratitude for this pyramid and the climb it mercifully granted. it’s been pyramidal, that’s true. it took me to the ground to face the truths of my foundations, making me battle so much of my memories to finally be honest with myself and clip off all that I don’t need to move forwards with. that meant clipping off and dusting away my own father from my life and choosing to stay with people who I know love me dearly. it’s been traumatic, and I’m still recovering from the aftermath, but I’m on my own now, and this is my pyramid. this is my life. my memory is a little bit blurry now after all that has happened. I don’t remember much but the incessant pain, but I’ll do my best to reflect on the happenings of each month.  vehemently, all I return to is utter disbelie
click to read

a letter you never read.

-
Image
these are words I’ve kept hidden within me for so long now. as I reflect midst the snow, and the aftermath of the most delicate and elegant storms, I find myself right in my heart again able to speak my truth. now that I’m here, wondering how it all happened when I never knew love would be anything but you. I’m not sure what happened, I’m not sure where I’m going. all I have are these prayers for guidance and the relentless climb and oath to never sell the very essence of who I am. I’m free now. I’m actually free. it tastes so splendidly enchanting. I can freeze to death in this cold and sing in the snowflake-laden roads in romanticism so loud, so pure, so enlivened by His remembrance. I’m free now and I’ve never been so..  happy? I just want to tell you that I wish you fought for me a little harder. I wish you knew how much your disappearance hurt no matter how much I kept forgiving. did you need me to scream at you to understand? how much I needed you to lose and risk your life for m
click to read