Skinny Dipping

I had quite a productive day today, I think.
I wrote and mailed, along with a DVD of my drawings, musings and music, my letter to Chris Lowell. I left my dress with a seamstress so she could fix it, I learned about the cleanse my mum is on and will set an appointment with my naturopath for Monday, and then we went to the beach.

I was a bit sad at first, because the tide was in and I thought it would be too cold to swim.
We went to Crescent, however, and it was quite warm. I waded into the water with my bathing suit and tie-dye shirt on (I'm shy) and walked quite far out. It was so beautiful at dusk... Every movement I made created a ripple that reflected the light of the setting sun. It was like being on a different plane - God was smiling at me from the pinks and oranges of the horizon, and the water was warm and comforting. People were watching me - a child even yelled, "Girl! You'll sink!" So I turn and shouted, "I can swim." And his mother laughed.

I was out there for a while before I decided to take my bathing suit off - I could hear the people on the beach, but couldn't see them at this point. I figured they wouldn't be able to see me, either. I tied my suit and shirt around my right ankle and began to play in the tiny waves.

After about a half hour, I put my clothing back on and began to swim back. It was getting cold, and darker. About halfway back I turned around and saw something pop up out of the water - a person, I thought? It bobbed back down and then up again with the agility of a seal, and I was both frightened and in awe. It had been watching me, and now she knew I was leaving.
I got back to the shore and my mum said she had come over to me from elsewhere before watching me play in the waves - this is a heart warming sign. I asked for joy yesterday, and tonight the incarnation of joy and playfullness came to watch me dive in and out of the water. So much love. I pray that I feel it with my heart instead of simply knowing with my head that it is a beautiful thing.

Thank you for tonight. <3

Black Beetles

Why does it bother me so much when people kill moths?

Let's explore this, gently. Sidenote: It's quarter to three in the morning.

Bugs aren't big. Insects and arachnids tend to be quite small, but for some reason there is a general stigma about them that deems them less valuable than other living creatures. It could also be due to the fact that they're just so easy to kill and wipe up and get rid of, but here are my reasons for not doing so.

The value of something does not lie in how much of that something there is. A large tub of margarine does not cost more than a small diamond - the monetary value lies in the rarity and purpose of the object. Something like margarine is intended for everyday use - to be ingested, digested, excreted, and then you use and buy more. A diamond wedding ring is often a once in a lifetime purchase which symbolizes the intention of love and union. Something so small can mean so much more.

The ease with which we do things does not determine the moral alignment of the action. As a stronger being, I could kill a rabbit or cat with some amount of ease. I could shoplift, I could lie, I could run my mouth off at people instead of intentionally speaking from only love, and it would be easy. Being angry is easy, being sad, being selfish - but does that make it okay?
There is a common and well-known opinion that "The right thing isn't always the easy thing." Perhaps this is true, and from my own life experience, I would say that it is. Quite often, taking the action that would leave my heart at ease and my conscience pleased requires a great deal of courage and determination. Maybe you would derive the same answer from your own experience.

And last, I face the concept of souls. Some people honestly believe that only humans possess them, and soulless beings are easily disposable. Think what you may, I am not here to change you. The semantics aren't important in this case; regardless of whether or not you believe insects have souls, they are an integral part of any ecosystem in which they are involved. Honeybees nurture the beautiful flowers that are so heavily incorporated into our culture, and spiders keep populations of other insects down. Everything has a sacred balance, and I'm pretty sure God knew what he was doing when he put this place together. Maybe we're only here for a short while, but I think we should learn from it what we can.

No, the ecosystem likely won't collapse if you take a newspaper to that spider on the bathroom floor. That's not my point. My point is that it upsets me when I hear, "It's just a moth." No, it is a moth. It's living out it's purpose like I am living out mine, and I believe it should be given the option to do that - even if that simply involves surviving.

***


The reason I got so upset tonight wasn't because the moth was attacked. I got upset because I felt mocked and scolded for wanting to keep the bug alive. It makes my heart hurt when any creature dies, and of all the opinions one could respect even if it isn't one of your own, I'd think that would be easy. Fighting boys makes me unhappy, too, because I obviously can't match their strength. I essentially felt helpless and injured, so I went for a walk and cried to a beetle.

I know that not everyone in this life will understand me or my little quirks. That's become apparent since I've felt comfortable enough with myself to show it to anyone... One thing I learned tonight, though, is that sometimes you have to explain (even to the people you love so dearly) what's going on in your heart.

Coping Mechanism

I am human.
I am fragile, I am emotional, I am vulnerable.

I can be hurt and scarred and discouraged, depending on your tactics.
I may open up to you in love, and then you can cut deeper.
If you let me get used to you, I will dream of you for months.

If you change, I will sense the brokenness of whatever was there, and I will mourn.
My memories will haunt me, comforting me and causing me anxiety.

After a while, though
Once I have spent long enough crying, and long enough bleeding,
I will sit up from the floor.

And all of the words that turned from warm to cutting when I found out they were empty,
They will shout loud from within my mind.
And the pain in my heart will reach a deafening roar, before it transforms
And in one split second
The world turns upside down.

There is a pause. A space in which there is nothing to fill
We're just hanging from a thread, you and I, in nothing.

Time slowly restarts
The thread snaps, has snapped long ago
And you're gone, lost far in the wrinkles and folds of what once was.
Your words start to whisper, again, but I thread a needle with them
And I begin to sew songs to show and tell to the world

I will tell them of the love before the loss, and how wonderful it was
The feeling of waking up in the morning, excited to live
The feeling of sharing in someone, wholeheartedly, loving who they were and are and will be
The feeling of aching to fuel their dream, to satisfy their heart
And the feeling of telling this person all of these things through the contact of eyes and skin.

I will tell them of the loss after the love, and how it was like the earth was torn from the sun
How I thought of you,
How I thought I needed you,
How I thought my life would be empty since you had left.
That is a logical thought, for someone who thought you were her future.
I will tell them to notice the past tense
And notice that I don't need you
That my life is so full it is bursting, and there is no room for you any longer
Simply because you don't want to be in it.

You have hurt me and broken me, left me feeling empty, but it was all an illusion.
All of that pain and sorrow is now inconsequential, but you have left me with one permanent gem.

Despite the months of feeling terrible, and despite the fact that our happiness was short-lived
Despite the anger and hate that I felt so shortly ago, and so shortly in itself
Despite the letters you said you'd send and never did,
And despite my last desperate attempts at salvaging this...

I have learned one thing.
And though I could have learned it by watching Moulin Rouge, I learned it with my soul.
I learned it with every little tiny piece of my heart, and I learned it with hours and weeks
I learned it with every emotion I ever felt towards you.
I learned it with happiness, excitement, nervousness, rage, jealousy, melancholy, and peace
I learned this.

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return."

For that is all that matters.

If I Know You

So much movement... Some painful, some wonderful... Most of it's painful at first before it turns bittersweet and then comfortable. Like a blanket that is at first is cold, it grows warm with my body heat and I get used to the idea. I want to be able to look the world in it's big, magnificent eyes without bursting. My skin must be thick.

Blood

I surrender and give myself to sleep and thirst and God.
I am distracted from the uncertainties of the future by the past and the present, and you know what is a comforting thought? I will never have to deal with the fogginess and fear of the future. By the time it gets to me, it will have transformed into a much more tangible and malleable substace: The present.

Maybe I should stop freaking out and keep things simple for myself.
Hope, love, trust, faith. These things are my basis, and the rest are interchangeable.
Relationships will come and teach and go and then teach more, and that knowledge will melt into and graft onto my soul-essence.

My little ether fingers are reaching and whining for Mum... For now I will satiate my thirst and see what they need.

Purple Shoes

Yesterday, I had an interesting encounter with a pair of shoes.

To preface this, last winter, my best friend bought me a pair of purple shoes. I wore them through the snow and emotional rollercoaster that became of the last months of that year and the first months of the next. The colour was a constant in a coupling, a physical manifestiation of like minds, like hearts, like goals. Like interests, like passions. The two pairs of purple shoes were indicatiors, like a sign saying, "These two people, though they don't yet know it, have a journey to embark on." And, young that we are or were, we careened down the path that we chose for ourselves.
I saw the same pair, unbroken soles, at Value Village. I put them on, raving the whole time about how I loved these shoes, and how nostalgic they made me. They looked the same on my feet as they once did, but everything from my ankles up looked and felt different.
"Get them, then, if you love them so much!" My friend said.
I looked down at the shoes, then took them off.
"I just feel like I'm done with them." I said.
Is that what it's going to be like?

Now I'm sitting here, missing quite a few people. A pretty significant portion of my life has been spent missing people, and from this I have realized something. I have realized that I have changed. I have become an almost completely different person than I was when they were here. I have grown internally, and I am not the only one who does such a thing. Sometimes people change so subtly that you don't notice any different until someone lets some wisdom slip, or reacts differently to a commonplace situation. Some changes, though, can rock people. Some dynamics don't work anymore, because the fragile little cogs that used to be present in the both of you simply aren't there anymore. They've broken off to reveal a smooth surface, and therefore there is distance.

Maybe that's what's going on, but there is no way for me to tell, at least for a time.
I've gotten quite a few of those strange feelings lately, and I'm quite assured it's just processing. I'm probably due for a blast of fresh air, and yoga tonight will help. I should go shower, now, and prepare for my Downtown adventure. I pray that my rampant emotion flow through me neatly, instead of spilling over into a situation that could be what I've been hoping for.

I want to learn to fight and freerun and sing.

Health

Documenting this feeling instead of sinking into it.

It's too warm. It's too quiet. It's too lonely.
Instead of this, though, I could recognize potential. The silence could be filled, the heat embraced. How many worthwhile things are done by oneself? That's probably debateable.
What could I do right now, and how would it better me as a person?
Culturally, I could expand myself by reading a book or watching Daniel Tosh on the comedy channel. I'm drawn to the latter, though the former, would, undoubtedly be more engaging. Maybe the show would make me laugh, or maybe it's just a way of waiting for something worthwhile to happen to me instead of actually doing something worthwhile. Maybe I'll just go to sleep.

Pyrotechnics

Hello, reader.

Tonight's an interesting one. I feel as though I've had similar experiences and been left feeling similar emotions at the end of the night. Let's contrast this year with last, shall we?

Last year, my friends were new. They were shiny and mysterious because I hadn't worn them in or been worn in, in a sense. I was naive, focused and flighty. I didn't pay attention to the fireworks, as we lay on the blanket facing the ocean. There was someone and something far more interesting laying to my left. Afterwards, I walked through the city light-hearted and barefoot.

This year, they are familiar. Warm and safe, like family. Not akin to family, but family itself. I am grounded, grown and curious. I paid attention to the fireworks, this time, though I also learned a very important lesson that I will perhaps take with me for the rest of my life. I have encountered these situations before, and I highly doubt I'm the only one - this time, though, it wasn't going to let me getting away with ignoring it. I was overwhelmed by a strange feeling, almost as if I were torn or confused, but not quite. I learned that, though emotional ties may be severed, intentionally or not so, adoration simply does not fade.

There is difference, for me, between actively caring for someone - making a habit of thinking about them, hoping they're happy, wanting to spend time with them - and surrendering to your path. I have let go of what was being moved from my life. With a bit of a fight, I do admit, but after enough time passed to balm my burning heart, I have settled. I have begun to burn with a different kind of fiery love, and I am satisfied with that. My life is full - I am complete, yet a work in progress. My point is that, in addition to this satisfaction and pacified state, I feel similar feelings to those I did before I surrendered my active love. These feelings, though, do not carry a bittersweet or anxious need to hold the butterfly, so to speak. I will not draw nearer to the beautiful light, for fear I will scare it away. I had my dance, my game, my time with this energy. It came to an end and that's fine - my heart is unchained, but my breath is still taken from me sometimes.

Walking downtown, I found myself feeling vulnerable and fearful. I wanted to snuggle into the safest thing I could find, but I didn't, for fear or rejection or general awkwardness. I wish I could communicate the genuine sentiment behind my actions, for they could easily be misread. I do not ask for affection, commitment or anything else. It doesn't need to be scary or weird or over thought, it's quite a simple gesture. If I were a man, I would love to shelter those feeling fragile. Heck, I do it anyway. I may be built thin, but intention and love can stand for much.

I have so much appreciation for the people in my life. My friends, my family, my strangers. Yes, my strangers. At least once a day, I look at someone and am struck by how beautiful or kind they are. Some people just have such a bright light around them that it makes me chuckle, because they don't even know. They could just be sitting across the table from me, talking about my professional endeavors (or, lack thereof) and all of the love they send to people, all of the hard work they do, all of the prayers they say, they're all floating around, looking at me, smiling and showing off on that person's behalf.

"Look here," they say. "I am beautiful and I don't even know it."

So I smile, I nod, and I continue the conversation.
Prayer has been lovely lately. Today on the skytrain I was praying lightly, when in the distance, I saw this enormous concrete wall in some empty lot with the words, "I LOVE YOU" spray painted on it. I laughed and smiled and wanted to put my hand to my heart.

Another time, I woke, but found myself not wanting to get out of bed. I turned on the radio with a distant sense that something inside me was welling up, about to burst. I didn't realize how sad I felt until "The Light Is You" by Said the Whale began playing, and I knew that song was for me. I began sobbing, like that time a busker was singing Bob Marley when I was feeling the worst I ever have. I can be lifted by song when I am heavy with sorrow, and God always knows just what to say.

Love is powerful.
Goodnight.

How Many Looks

If I were still upset and longing and all that stuff, I'd ask the dramatic, rhetorical question;
"Where are you? :'( "

It's a good feeling, though, having that sentence in the conditional. Because I'm not.

I've learned over the past fourteen years of my life that people change. People change and leave and some will float in and out of your life. Sometimes you don't want them to leave - and sometimes you do. Having a breath of fresh air when one person leaves is quite the contrast when the absence of another makes you suffocate.

I think the most important thing that these experiences and attendance sheets have taught me is that there is always an imprint. Sometimes it's a scar, and other times it's the faintest little outline of someone's lips on your cheek. It can burn and it can sear or it can make everything seem like a Claritin commercial.

Honestly, I have known people who have ruined my life, and the imprint they left was the most important. It starts out as a deep wound that heals wrong, and for years I felt like a nervous dog. It's hard to get close to people, and even harder to speak up for oneself when they decide to get close anyway. Then something switches, and maybe it's a someone. Maybe someone sees you as you are, and they fall in love with you for everything. They tell you you're beautiful and you know that they mean it - especially since you picked your nose in front of them and don't wear makeup.

That kind of love can heal those wounds. Even when that person removes themselves so abruptly that it causes another cut.

That love that healed you remains - even though that someone has probably fucked off forever, it doesn't matter. Sure. I'll miss them. But friendship and family love has the same effect. Time doesn't matter. Grudges don't matter. Petty little human emotions don't matter - all that matters is that we matter to each other.