a daylight dream

  I was talking to my co-workers about what is to become of a life lived in reverence. I was inspired to mention how it is our responsibility to embody the values that we’ve forsaken, chasing the multiplying material structures. it was told to me that it’s a circle. this world is a circle, and all our attachments have become cobwebs we are tangled to. attempting to step away from the circle would make us disconnected from everything else— lonelier, emptied, estranged. isn’t this what we truly need? I believe that the pandemic was a beautiful gift, but it was difficult to commit to what it has taught us. it was difficult to keep honouring the people in our lives and balancing between work and our relationships to ourselves and what the work pours into. I believe reminders will keep coming.. the earthquakes, both real and metaphorical, shall keep shaking us to the core. in the midst of it all, I’m grateful to remember the vision planted in my heart. once I forget, this heart painfull...

  dearest world, is it alright that I follow you like this? is it safe to follow your light and be the shadowed reflection of your whispers in my heart? is even the reckless mistake so beautifully right? I often close my eyes and follow the scintillating lights fall on the splintered echoes of piano chimes in my heart. I’m led to a knowing and I freefall into it, only to find I’m falling in  love . dear God, I forget my blessings to see clearly. I follow a home of unsymmetrical truth— traces only seen with faith. traces that transform into the most beautiful lines only when dearly believed in. emptying this vessel of all what can be touched, all I follow is a searing, flaming, sun-like longing. it becomes the sun that rises before dawn. a longing for traces of this Light and every day needed for it to seed, branch and sprout into blooming Life. when my eyes turn to sleep at night, I dearly pray for another day to love like this. to forget in the language of forgiveness, my ves...

  it’s been harsh this winter, and as I’ve collided into this quietness of soul beckoning its need to dominate my person, it’s been more of a life lived in inner dwelling. the frosty 5-degrees air made it a little harder to work feverishly on what I dream of— it’s been more of a struggle to maintain my motivation to be as loving and warm as a sun. I’m becoming more and more sensitive, I can see. my world is being pruned to grow towards becoming more and more observant instead of a player in the fields. it’s been hard to be like this, but winter is helping me surrender into it. it’s an unlived life of so much smallness, almost quite invisible to most eyes. a few months ago, I remember marvelling at how wondrous it felt doing work backstage at some event I had at work, almost receiving no recognition, just being there, invisibly navigating the process without having to put myself out there so energetically. I had a heart filled with intention, beating for the flourishing of the proje...