i wake up to watch Al Jazeera Witness...a special on Guatanamo held prisoners, to see a man crying like a baby calling for his mother, "O Mi" it sounded like. It is Omar Khadr, the first child persecuted there, from Canada.
but interesting enough, i wake up with these thoughts:
pondering the tme, year and season..and how it is said for that of transformation
and I think, "where is my alchemist, and wand" --this constant life desire for a teacher and guide, to tell me what changes to make in what direction. which is a hallmark of my life. I will say and yearn for a teacher, but if that teacher is not up to snuff, and they always prove not to, I do my own thing. It was said once that I am used to being a the feet of teachers and guides in past lives, but this time it is for me to leac and teach
but in processing this idea of change and "to change", i think of my baby pictures. I was always serious. if I may go so way far and say, I always looked like a sholin warrior...my eyes were more chinese then than they are now, and that is all people see now; but I think, {i came to fight and survive}
and when my mind roams on a quick review of my life, I come up with another issue: I can write a book, titled "She Who Would Never Quit". i sense my strong indefatigable resolve never to quit is what has landed me here. At this station, this crossroad. I refused to quit aspiring. I refused to quit believing i can be better than what was surrounding me. I refused to quit at high school. I refused to quit that the life and relationship I saw of my parents could be better than what I saw and what my mother received. I refused to believe I could not be better than my mother. and i think , most women around. II have always refused to take no for an answer. I refused to let go. Of ideas and pursuits even when I got confused of what and for why, what purpose and outcome, happiness. I was walking a path of 'running' from what i saw and lived. I was walking a path to be better, which is not the right motivation to last a lifetime. And today I realize, one can be wildly successful on the wrong path. One can bat 100 to zero in all things. I used to have the golden fingers. Nothing I set my hand to ever failed or spurned. Until now. And I am not sure why or how, but just to imagine a few days ago, that every road ends.
I write and I sense the only passion I had was to survive and get through. Well I did that. I think my life was to prove that I did not need people, and I proved that. on the path I was on. but not on a bigger spectre, I imagine; and that is the line and barrier between control and the vistas beyond one's hands and power.
and all in this, I am mindful to remember, this is the path I chose. this is the life I circled. the parents I came to, the spiritual pod and family. to correct something? to experience something?
and for what and whose benefit am i, have i learned all of this...I now think it is critical and one role of parents is to guide their children based on their personality. but then that would require parents, and mature adults, right, when most parents are living and engaging their children from convenience, when they are not doing so from their own tantrums and competitions
i have learned that people can love you dearly but be your worse enemy. the elders who love you can jealous and envy you to a bastion of margins, so do they want to block your elevation beyond their station. Life is Complex and Muddled. It is not even grey, just a kaleidoscope of color and the charge of meaning to life is to translate the meaning and significance of the hue
just trying to decode the thing/ the life/ and trying to see the next step. All this is really about the question or answer, "who and how am I to be for the next dispensation?"
but interesting enough, i wake up with these thoughts:
pondering the tme, year and season..and how it is said for that of transformation
and I think, "where is my alchemist, and wand" --this constant life desire for a teacher and guide, to tell me what changes to make in what direction. which is a hallmark of my life. I will say and yearn for a teacher, but if that teacher is not up to snuff, and they always prove not to, I do my own thing. It was said once that I am used to being a the feet of teachers and guides in past lives, but this time it is for me to leac and teach
but in processing this idea of change and "to change", i think of my baby pictures. I was always serious. if I may go so way far and say, I always looked like a sholin warrior...my eyes were more chinese then than they are now, and that is all people see now; but I think, {i came to fight and survive}
and when my mind roams on a quick review of my life, I come up with another issue: I can write a book, titled "She Who Would Never Quit". i sense my strong indefatigable resolve never to quit is what has landed me here. At this station, this crossroad. I refused to quit aspiring. I refused to quit believing i can be better than what was surrounding me. I refused to quit at high school. I refused to quit that the life and relationship I saw of my parents could be better than what I saw and what my mother received. I refused to believe I could not be better than my mother. and i think , most women around. II have always refused to take no for an answer. I refused to let go. Of ideas and pursuits even when I got confused of what and for why, what purpose and outcome, happiness. I was walking a path of 'running' from what i saw and lived. I was walking a path to be better, which is not the right motivation to last a lifetime. And today I realize, one can be wildly successful on the wrong path. One can bat 100 to zero in all things. I used to have the golden fingers. Nothing I set my hand to ever failed or spurned. Until now. And I am not sure why or how, but just to imagine a few days ago, that every road ends.
I write and I sense the only passion I had was to survive and get through. Well I did that. I think my life was to prove that I did not need people, and I proved that. on the path I was on. but not on a bigger spectre, I imagine; and that is the line and barrier between control and the vistas beyond one's hands and power.
and all in this, I am mindful to remember, this is the path I chose. this is the life I circled. the parents I came to, the spiritual pod and family. to correct something? to experience something?
and for what and whose benefit am i, have i learned all of this...I now think it is critical and one role of parents is to guide their children based on their personality. but then that would require parents, and mature adults, right, when most parents are living and engaging their children from convenience, when they are not doing so from their own tantrums and competitions
i have learned that people can love you dearly but be your worse enemy. the elders who love you can jealous and envy you to a bastion of margins, so do they want to block your elevation beyond their station. Life is Complex and Muddled. It is not even grey, just a kaleidoscope of color and the charge of meaning to life is to translate the meaning and significance of the hue
just trying to decode the thing/ the life/ and trying to see the next step. All this is really about the question or answer, "who and how am I to be for the next dispensation?"
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