Onward!

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“A ship is always safe at shore, but that is not what it’s built for.”

~Albert Einstein

If life was sitting in front of me right now, I think it’d say, “That wasn’t a big of a leap enough.”

Honestly, I think that’s the reason why I didn’t mind the most recent rejection. And you know what? It was the silent kind, yet I’m okay having found out the way I did.

Going into the attempt of making a change, I knew it would have allowed me to keep everything the same. Yes, I would have made a bit more money. But had the opportunity worked out, I wouldn’t have been challenged. It would have required continuing to put up with what I’m aware is making me tired.

WHY are we willing to put ourselves through trials that we know we should walk away from? It must be that going through trials are life’s necessities.

Einstein said it. We are made to do more. If we can somehow be willing to unlock our potentials, we can maybe discover our purpose for living. And if nothing’s uncovered, I guess it means we get to shut our eyes and point in a random direction, hoping for the best.

I may not be excited, but I am curious to see what’s next. Because that opportunity didn’t work out, that means I’m needing to step outside my comfort zone and try something else.

Maybe life is expecting more from me than what I’ve been putting in.

Here I go!

Blog #11

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My brain scrunches up in angst and slides down to the end of my nose. And all that I can do to calm it is by remembering that the year is still young. Very young, indeed.

Not sure when I became the too careful type.  I remember diving forward without hesitation. There was no fear to flop, just pure innocence. As I’ve reflected the past career aspirations, I’ve concluded to stop pining for what was hoped for.  Instead, it’s okay to become who I’d like to be now.

But alas, I’m stuck again.

I see all the big opportunities out there that would require big leaps. But at the moment, I don’t think I’m cut out for the giant ones just yet. I definitely approached a few last year, but something inside me wants to jump but within limits. There are all these connections that I want to hold onto. And, it seems beyond me to jump off without knowing why.

The thing about wanting change, even small ones, doesn’t it require to give up something? And this is where I become wishy washy. I want change, but I currently feel at home with my current lifestyle. It has some steadiness and consistency to it, while leaving room for spontaneity. The problem, even if change were to come, a part of me secretly hopes things aren’t too different. And I know I can’t have both, change and sameness.

On the days when the world looks too big to handle, maybe that’s when I should consider poking at the opportunities that are intimidating. Someone is bound to have kicks and giggles during those times, and I hope it’s me.

If anything, I should try to be more curious about life’s opportunities. Maybe I could pretend life is one big drive, waiting for me and my out-of-socket-brain to turn down a street just to see where it goes.

 

 

 

 

Sayonara, 2019!

 

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Admittedly…

Ever since the toad on my toilet incident, I can’t help but keep an eye out for more. I’m not scared of them, just wondering how likely it’d happen again.

But here’s to the end of another year. When I think about the highlights of the year, they actually sound like the cards picked up in a boardgame.

I won two tickets to see Les Misérables from a newspaper. I remember finding out last minute, how I begged my boss to let me go, how I scurried to grab the tickets before the office closed, and how a plan was constructed under two hours.

My car went to the shop, and they let me borrow the biggest truck on the lot for a week.

I reunited with some relatives, and later went on a cruise where I saw my sister getting married. Same year, I saw an old friend also getting hitched.

I went on a solo trip and humorously, yet awkwardly, ran into one of my music heroes on the streets. Coming home after that, I ran into a lull in life and found reasons to sneak off occasionally to catch a concert or show.

I started learning a new language. And I love it. It’s bringing out different sides of me.

I played the violin only once this year as a guest player. And no one guessed it had been three years since I had played a note.

I even clashed with the dating scene a little bit.

Lastly, I went through numerous kinds of rejections that have strengthened and made me ready to take on new ones.

Here’s to not just a new year, as every year starts new. But here’s to…

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Admittedly, I’m not sure!

 

 

Somedays, a head’s a heavy burden.

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I feel dusty.

Like the salt and pepper keys that have stayed quiet for sometime now.

In a black tomb like a fellow fiddle.

Other strings are where I last left them, secured on the sidelines.

 

Maybe I’m caked with doubt and insecurities.

I see the world around me changing, though I know

I’m still uncertain.

I see all the things I am and not.

But why should I care for this eternal wallow?

 

If there’s anything I can currently live for,

It’s every deep breath.

For that’s when I restart.

The battle to keep what I want continues.

I may be resting,

But I’m not done.

 

 

My trip to NYC, and yesterday morning’s bathroom guest.

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Today, I look back at how different two weeks can be. As last Friday had me in the middle of vacation, this past Friday morning was welcomed with a blood-curdling scream. Sleepy eyes and seconds after lifting the toilet lid, I realized that the porcelain throne was already taken. The gray fuzzy blob was a TOAD! The good news: it was the only one seen yesterday, as I consciously became the toad patrol of all toilets that came my way.

Perhaps it was a needed scream. Reality was truly back, and I did a great job this week resuming my work life and pretending not to have vacation withdrawal syndrome.

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So, I’ve recently come back from New York City, and I had the best time possible. For a city whose soundscape is composed of frequent sirens, loud chatter, and other general street noise, I still found moments of peace and gained better self-perception. I learned that if I really want something, I’m willing to make it happen.

As I look back on all the iconic spots, statues, and buildings, I smile at the little details like sitting on a train and being surrounded by five languages talking all at once—none of which were English. I also ran into one of my music heroes on the streets, only to be kicking myself later that I didn’t say anything. I will forever remember how we both stopped, smiled, and nodded at each other.

There was also a bagpipe player on the subway. And at Central Park, there was a man on a bicycle singing karaoke, “Prince Ali, yes it is he, Prince Ababwaaa!” He even had his own mic, amp, and music track. Why isn’t biking karaoke-ing an actualy thing?

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A week later, and my calves have recovered from all the feet travel between the walks. From the two hour coffee shop hunt to the two hour Central Park hike, I victoriously attended a Carnegie Hall concert in a cleanly state the same night. It was miraculous to have squeezed in a shower beforehand, for the NYC winds had covered me in dirt and all kinds of smells beforehand, some which I unfortunately inhaled.

But all the dust in the nose didn’t stop me from having a blast. My soul still hums the goosebump-filled serenades from the Hall, and it’s still infatuated by all the sightseeing from those few days.

By the time I returned home, I was a bit shocked. The hushed traffic and the absence of all other sounds questioned my ears. I also noticed my quick impatience with the slowest drivers and walkers in the world. To start the day in a different state and to end it in another challenged how quickly I could adapt to diverse environments.

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This was the first big trip that I single-handedly planned from beginning to end. And it tested me in different areas like travel planning, decision making, and instinct. The personal wins included finishing all work in advance, arriving to destinations on time, and resolving issues when technology wasn’t working half the time.

I thank up above for helping me make it through all nine yards. To go to NYC not knowing a soul was an adventure in itself.

Most importantly, the whole trip was frog-free.

 

 

 

 

Timing is everything.

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It’s safe to say that when trialed, everything read on life, theories, and philosophies go out the window. It’s like in between trials, I think of how wiser and better I’ve become since the last ones. But as soon as the need for survival hits—WHO CARES WHAT SO AND SO SAYS ABOUT KEEPING AFLOAT?! THEY’RE NOT HERE RIGHT NOW! JUST GET PAST THIS HURDLE!!

Out of everything that happened this week, the first place trophy goes to a dead car battery.

As its inconvenience squashed my big after work plans of coffee breaks and naps, it later revealed to be the greatest interference.

Well, the nap most certainly happened, just not according to my forecast. As I heeded the inaccurate advice of the person who jumped my car, I waited [*snoozed*] for half-an-hour before taking off. I triumphed through all errands, not daring to turn it off until I reached the mechanics. When I saw the experts walking towards me and my car with a jump box, different life lessons flooded my head.

***I shouldn’t push things off till later.***

***I could’ve broken down in the middle of a highway.***

***The car needs vacuuming because I decided to eat in my car.***

I tried predicting something as simple as an afternoon, but life came in to kindly say, “No, no, dear. I’ve got the better idea. You’ll have to wait and see!”

And you know what? Life was right.

Because the following day, I received some crushing news that ended a long ordeal. Days of sleep were even lost over it. But when I started up the new battery, all I could think of was how the previous day’s misfortune became a life saver to another day’s misfortune.

So, as my car runs like a new person being given a new heart, I hope that I too will take charge with rejuvenation.

 

The phrase “Use your time wisely” has never sunk in until recently.

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I’ve been going through a phase of guilt.

The things I’ve liked doing, I’ve stopped.

I’ve stopped music.

I’ve stopped dancing.

I’ve just stopped everything.

Anything I’ve started in the last five years, I haven’t finished or continued with.

And I keep going through that cycle of starting and stopping. I start playing or moving, and I remember how good I was. And then the guilt of stopping kicks in. I think the source is knowing that I’d be better now, if I hadn’t stopped. Cause maybe secretly, having a life filled with the stuff I like sounds truly great. If not a job, just to be enveloped in it all the time.

I could tumble endlessly into the excuses of why I keep quitting. Yes, life happens. Yes, responsibilities increase. Yes, time moves on, waiting for nobody.

When I was in school, I remember running into adults who said phrases like, “I used to do…” or “I used to be great at…” And I remember thinking that that could never happen to me. And that I would do everything to avoid living that way.

But don’t get me wrong.

I haven’t stopped fighting for the things I want.

But you know what?

In order to fight, you have to know your cause.

And I think I’ve temporarily lost it.

The whole “I’m lost!” thing really sticks sometimes.

 

 

 

 

4am insomnia.

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No two days are alike. The times I hoped for sameness, I don’t know why I had the slightest expectations for predictability. Because as much as we can control ourselves, anything beyond is beyond our control. We cannot change the weather or the pebbles that get blown at our feet. We intercept them, somehow become a part of their day. But in the end, we’re in charge of where we step, how we react, and what we filter.

For better or worse, we let things come into our lives, but we also block what we dislike. And depending on the day, depends on what we decline. These tendencies are probably why our days are always changing. We’re the captains or the kings of our lives. And somehow, the rest of the day meets us halfway. As the day clearly has its plans, and I have my own, it’s a hit or a miss when we come together.

What do we accept or reject for the day. If feeling great, maybe we disagree with anything negative about ourselves. And on a day feeling down, we’re inclined to push away any positive remarks. Maybe we intended to push them aside for an even rainier day, but somehow we forget to remember.

But if a day is the same as yesterday, does that mean all elements remain the same. Would a same day mean that the same amount of time passes, but no one even ages. For better or worse, that’d mean we didn’t change, that we’re powerless. And I think that’s worse than having the two same days.

For the cost of aging, I’d change for the world. Cause if there are two bad days in a row, I hope to not react the same as yesterday. And if there is a great day tomorrow, I hope I’d be ambitious enough to make it even greater.

For the love of curiosity!

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Mischief struck me.

The cruise ship docked, and the travelers left for their destinations. But what I cared about wasn’t out there. Staying aboard, I headed to a grand sunlit room where the welcoming doors were quite inviting.

As I hoped for an empty ship, I knew the reality was still better than most times. I assumed that the few who occupied the room weren’t threatening.  The travelers chilled with their drinks, and the bartender looked quite tame. Walking past their slumped backs and pretending to be interested in the windows, I turned around to face heart’s desire. I dared to lift the lid quietly with a finger.

Blasted. 

The piano was locked.

Laughter rippled through my body and was followed by the nerves that set free. I no longer needed them. The ship’s crew must have seen me coming. And guess what? The people in the room remained perfectly oblivious. At least I didn’t try the piano in the ship’s foyer. Though, it was tempting cause I saw that one first. Now I understand why some pianos are left unguarded.

As I imagined what I would’ve played, I also fantasized its consequences resulting in a blaring alarm or a crumbling ship. The mission seemed so important, and the thrill was in the risk.

But the important thing is that I survived so to continue laughing in my wiser days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

hELLOOO, OUT THEERRE (there, there, theerre)!!!

 

BugHwyFix1Life has honestly been a blast! But…

Getting lost is one thing, but being lost is another. And it’s the latter that has been with me my whole life. As it has gradually increased in weight, it’s become the mission closest to my heart.

So, here I am still checking out life but choosing to blog about it this time. Maybe I’ll find inspiration to share here and there, and hopefully sharing reflections will alleviate the journey. From wandering around this whole time, I’ve come to notice that if you’re lost in one aspect of life, it spreads to other parts.

But honestly.

What’s an adventure without getting lost? When I’ve taken a wrong turn or have curiously gotten lost, at least several trips come to mind that were made better because of the unexpected events. In fact, it’s the experiences from getting lost on the road where I learn the most but also find self.

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BugDoodleFrontMy love for adventuring began when my parents gave me a GPS on my 18th birthday. But man, God only knew how much I would need that! Because as soon as I passed my driver’s test, having it in my back pocket gave me the confidence to surf the road. Call it a lucky feather or whatever, but I honestly don’t know how I would’ve gotten home from a multitude of driving adventures.

When GPSes were car swag to save up for, they also had the reputation of being flaky. If I didn’t get lost on my own, it was because of an inaccurate map. One trip, I was steered so wrong to where I found myself driving up to an abandoned warehouse— I was trying to find an ICE SKATING RINK! And the friend who was brave to have me drive us? We STILL laugh about it.

Another trip, my GPS had me looping around an interstate a few times, insisting that IKEA was among the noon rush hour. The friends who were with me then also still laugh about it. Though, it would’ve been cool if there was at least a couch sitting in the middle of the road.

Same GPS, but entering downtown work life— I somehow took a different route home everyday for THREE months. I didn’t know the area really well, the lanes and drivers weren’t so accommodating, and if there was a way out of congested traffic, I took it. Those days usually ended with cool landmarks I came to appreciate and stories to share the next day.

Nowadays, I’ve become best friends with Google Maps (though I still keep my GPS for luck). What hasn’t changed is my adventurous side. I’ve just become a little more mature and prepared these days. A recent day trip, I packed a bag so that I could drive randomly and see where I ended up. Five hours later, persevering to a beautiful beach inspired a glorious nap on the sand and a time for much needed reflection. By the time I got home that night, my then housemates could’ve assumed I was coming home from work. If I was used to enjoying paradise everyday, then sneaking off for an unplanned beach trip wouldn’t have been as spectacular.

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From decently getting lost on the road, whether by accident or on purpose, I’ve learned it’s wise to pull over so to adjust your strategy. And I believe that’s where I’m at with life now. I’ve pulled off to the side to figure out my next moves.

So, as I attempt to use this space for motivational purposes and for soul searching, welcome to my little corner! ^_^

❤ Laters.