Understanding my place in the nature of things.
I have wanted to stare at the Nā Pali coast for as long as I can remember. Today, I got to do that. Wind rushing, waves crushing, birds soaring majesty. There is more mana here than I can even explain.
“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
The breaking and the becoming.
This island has stolen my heart.
I just read James Foley’s letter to his family.
It begins so simply; ‘I remember going to the mall with dad and a long bike ride with mom’. At the end of the day, it’s remembering the little things.
I can’t even begin to imagine the things James had to endure nor the feelings that led up to his time of death. But I think we can all understand his yearning for normalcy and love and the people who matter the most.
I just want to pay my respects to James. May he travel well wherever he is now, may he be at peace.
Even though, I clearly love pretty things. I think this is an important lesson for women, that our worth does not lie in the measure of our aesthetic beauty but rather in our story, in who we are, in the depths of our soul. Growing up in this world, was/is definitely tough on women. There is so much pressure to look a certain way that it takes time to reject those ideals and develop your own. The most important thing is to be brave, healthy, kind and intelligent and to do what it is you love to do; now that is true beauty.
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
- Kahlil Gibran
“We were together. I forget the rest.” – Walt Whitman
It’s quiet up there, compared to the somewhat chaotic ground below. Sharing the night sky with friends, above the images of writhing bodies on dance floors, drinkers at bars, smokers engaging in conversations on the street. We were above it all, exchanging stories, reciting histories and predictions of this island we call home. There were mentions of ghosts, memories long gone and a quietness in these moments. We shared a beer with the universe that night.
There we were on the rooftops of Chinatown, wheeling with the stars.
The older I grow, the more I realise that there really are no rules. Like this idea of a one true love, or one soul mate. I think it is completely different for each person. I don’t doubt connectivity for a second, I think there are definitely souls that are drawn to each other but for some people I think you can be in love with more than one person at any given time. Everyone has something unique to offer the world. A different skill set, a unusual way of seeing things, attributes that set them apart from others.
A friend once said to me, “Everyone is in an open relationship if you think about it.” I see this to be true. We don’t just connect and talk and interact with one person but in fact have deep and meaningful relationships with lots of people, even if we are in committed relationships, we still maintain plutonic (and sometimes not depending on the makeup of your relationship) interactions with other people.
I think practising love free of possession, control and jealously has so much reward. Let us all move fluidly in this life whether it is by loving one person or many people. There are no rules. There is so much to love. So many things to learn from each other. So many rules to be broken.
The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I’m coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light–
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.
You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.
But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.
This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.
It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.
- Billy Collins