Oct 112022
 

Ever since I was young I have had a thing for rearranging the furniture in my personal space. I did it frequently in my offices at work. I do it regularly in my bedrooms and most rooms that allow for the reconfiguration of movable objects. I attribute it to the fact that it makes me feel as if I have moved to a new “home” without having to go through all the pain and suffering involved in doing so. In a way, it is me taking advantage of the positive aspect of starting somewhere new.

When we first moved into our house a year ago, I had claimed one of the rooms as my office because it had great energy in it. However, it is dark and I realized it made a much better guest room than an office for me. Others would be able to benefit from the positive energy better than me – and most do. So, I moved my office space to the adjacent room, which is quite huge for an office, but it is feasibly one of the brightest rooms in the house with the windows and open area.

Despite the challenge of keeping warm throughout the winter, I really loved working in that room.

Then, summer came and so did all the visitors. It got to the point that I was rarely able to work in my “office”, so much to the chagrin of M, I moved my office to our bedroom as that was the one place where visitors would not need to infiltrate and we have more than enough space for it.

Although it is not perfect, it works until I can get a she-shed made outside of the house itself. Though I have already had two different configurations of the desks, I felt that with the changing season it was time to shake things up again. While I could move back into the previously large room, M reminded me of the chilly winter and admitted that he didn’t really mind my desks in the room. So, what else is a girl to do than to rearrange?

I usually have two considerations when I place my desks. One is to have a fairly decent background space for the video calls that I do. I feel there is nothing worse than white walls or a cluttered and distracting background. Even though I tend to blur it most of the time, one can still see the shadows and I like it to look pleasant.

The other consideration is that the non-computer and screen desk (yes, I have two) has a view out of a window for those moments when I need inspiration while writing.

However, thanks to reading Stephen Kings On Writing I learned that it might be worth a try to write with my desk facing a wall – still with the ability to look at the window now and then. Somehow, I have managed to make both of these considerations a reality.

Thus, my fall reshuffling is complete. The other parts of the house have remained untouched by moi except for finally getting the last of our boxes with books emptied and the shelf looking happy with the few books that I have managed to whittle my library down to since my move to mostly reading e-books.

With that, here’s to another season of productivity and pleasant writing!

~T 🔥🐉♋️

Aug 182022
 

It has been a while since I have had the chance to go on a solo writing retreat due to being busy and also being careful with money. 💰 As there has been a lot of stress in trying to get the house paid off and my sense of frustration with the whole process, it seemed wise to have a break from the environment for a few days.

Whenever I share that I am away people always just assume that it is a holiday, which it is, to some extent, but really I consider it more like a “work trip”. 💻

In one of our heated discussions about money, I suggested that I should go back to work. We had fewer challenges when I was working full-time as we always knew that we had enough money to pay the bills and I had some sense of control over my own ability to spend on things. These days, I feel like a kid again having to ask for money to go shopping, justify it, and then nag until I get it. I understand why there is reluctance and resistance, but it doesn’t make it easier nor more enjoyable.

Still, as M reminds me, it is really a temporary situation as it is just about getting the house paid off. Our monthly income more than covers our expenditures and M wouldn’t be as stressed if we didn’t have the house hanging over us. Normal people get a mortgage and make house payments, but not us. 🤷🏽‍♀️😬

So, that aside – as it will work itself out – we agreed that rather than me going back to work as a teacher, I can work to make money as a writer. This is my dream life, really. I travel and I write. Now, I just need to make some money out of it. 😅

In the end, I have agreed to write another book. While I am plugging along with my fiction novel, which is my main focus for writing on these “work trips”, I am also going to write a book on Umbria, where we have settled. This will be what I work on during the week until it is done. Then, we will see what kind of money we can make from it as M knows how to market it.

Even though I had a massive meltdown recently, I now feel more hopeful and happy with the idea of writing to pay the bills. 😁

~T 🔥🐉♋️

May 312022
 

One might think that posting here on a somewhat regular basis – though in waves of consistency and inconsistency – would be enough for me. It seems this is not so.

When I decided that this was the year for me to really put into action my dream of writing and being a writer, I wanted to make some separation in my writing spaces. This blog has been my personal ongoing release to readers known and unknown about my life and views of the world. However, not everything I share here might be appropriate for an intentional audience. Plus, most of the time, this space is semi-unfiltered and unrefined in the finished product.

Therefore, I have started a more “formal” space with specific topics – mostly on writing – on Medium, which is a platform used by many writers with the same intention: targeted topics to build an audience base. So, I thought that I would share it on here just in case it is of interest.

https://theoshwriter.medium.com/

I also have another “blog” where I try to share my novel or creative writing as well as update on posts from Medium. That blog/site will also be the home of my Book Coaching information when I manage to finish the certification and training process. I’m going slowly but surely through that.

Here is that site: https://oshwriter.com/

While I have actually been somewhat hesitant to cross the lines between my public writing persona and my personal one, as shared here, I realize that I need to embrace both versions of me. I will admit that I have started writing under a completely different name that I will not share and will not publicly share articles written with that name as anonymity is needed for my sake as well as that of my friends and family who may be impacted/affected by what I share in those pieces. It has been with lots of consideration as to whether or not I would do that, but some topics are far too personal, controversial, or politically influenced to be safely directly associated with an individual. As it is often an experience that a writer wants to share, I now appreciate why pseudonyms are used as a writer. I mean if JK Rowling and Stephen King can write under different names, surely I can too, right?! 😛

So, there you have it – I seem to have lots of words to spread around in the digital space!

~T 🔥🐉♋︎

Apr 212022
 

There are few things that trigger my negative psyche these days. Thanks to meditation, reading a lot of books for reflection, and general maturity in life through experiences, I always look inward before letting myself get absorbed by other’s actions or words. Introspection is a daily habit rather than a passing whim for me.

So, when I feel injured by others, I really feel it. It has been a long time since I have let myself invest in a space or be amongst others enough that I could potentially be personally injured, but after months of Zoom sessions, chats online, and what seemed like a good connection, I lowered my wall of protection. Unfortunately, due to money – of all things – wounds that I thought were healed proved to be merely scabbed over and when picked only a little, bled.

Regarding the money, I am responsible and I fully acknowledge it. While I do not have actual control over our finances nor much of a say as to my bank balance these days, I agreed to pay for a service and admit to falling short of that agreement.

However, the problem for me lies in the blurred lines of when service melds into relationships. Was I actually paying for readership of my writing? Was I paying for accountability partners? Was I paying for a support group? These are questions I am still processing answers to as I am not quite sure, or perhaps I am just not ready to accept the answers.

If I had stayed with my wall up and looked at the service as simply a service, I imagine I would not have entered that dark space of my mind so eagerly. However, the loss by being removed abruptly, by being shut out completely, by not having a chance for closure was an unexpected and unprepared for moment because I did let that wall down.

Possibly, if I had not gotten excited over the idea of having writing friends, I would have more thoroughly thought about what I was paying for; therefore, making my protective decisions more carefully. Still, hindsight is 20:20, right?

After wallowing for a couple of weeks, opening the dark space that consequently allowed in C19, and reorganizing my mental processes, I am slowly coming back up out of the abyss with a renewed vision and, admittedly, a reinforcement of protection. This is not to say that I am hardened nor closed off, but rather that I know now that I don’t want any aspect of money to determine the answers to my earlier questions. There is a time and place to pay for certain elements in the writing process – no matter how great or small the sum -, but my values are not respected if I allow myself to be in a place where money is more important than relationships, especially when it comes to writing, especially when there is a common understanding that rejection and abandonment are triggers, especially when compassion and empathy are meant to be at the forefront of the ties that bind.

So, without placing any blame on anyone or in any place other than myself and in my mind, I am pulling up my big girl pants and appreciating the experience and lessons learned as I move forward. My writing will get back on track and I am looking at how to create my own space and support networks that may still involve money, but will value the relationships more so that no one else will be forced to visit those dark recesses of their minds when all they want to do is to bring light through their writing. Stay tuned as the ideas develop!

~T 🔥🐉♋️

Feb 242022
 

Since this year is my year of writing on my novel, M had suggested that I go on an “intentional” writing retreat somewhere, but the cost of them and the forced interaction with others did not appeal to me as I want to write according to my methods and in my way – real surprise, huh? 😛

So, instead I decided to schedule regular mini writing retreats away from home.

My first one was last week. I booked myself into a hotel near Rome Termini Station since the train from our town of Orvieto goes there in under 90 minutes and is cheap. Also, I figured that I could do some exploring of the city a bit as we mostly hit the touristy places whenever we visit.

First of all, I absolutely came to appreciate Rome in a completely different light. It reminded me so much of NYC, but with a deeper history and richer culture. However, there were still grungy, dirty parts that are characteristic to a big capital city. Also, I discovered that on the whole it is not that large of a city despite how it might seem. One can walk from one end to the other in about an hour.

In terms of writing, I managed to be very productive in and out of cafes during the days and in my hotel room from late afternoon on. I found an easy rhythm after the first day and the time went rather quickly.

Something surprising about my writing method is that it seems to be the only area in which I am rather loathe to plan! 😉 Still, I have gone back to make a bit of an outline as per the methodology of a Book Writing group I have joined.

In any case, I got my characters created, storylines plotted, intersections and themes drafted. Plus, I got quite a few words written as I need to be sure to also write amidst my planning or I will get caught up in the organizing without growing the whole point of it all – the novel!

On top of the writing, I also discovered motivation to start a few other writing channels. A while back, I had created Substack and Medium accounts, which are new-ish platforms for writers and creatives. It’s sort of an upgraded version of tumbler, I guess but with a bit more method to the madness. For the most part, I had decided to just let them be for a while, but after a day of my mini retreat, I realized that there was a way I could use these platforms. I have chosen Medium over Substack for now (I can go into the reasons another time), and this has instigated a revamping of my writer Instagram and blog accounts. Those spaces will now be used to focus solely on my writing process with a running theme of finding and reviewing cafes to accomplish this in. I also hope to share a bit of my novel writing journey as a way of inspiring, supporting, and encouraging others to get whatever stories they may have in their heads out into the world.

So, I am intentionally not sharing the names of those accounts here. I imagine if you’ve been following me long enough or know me for some time, you’ll be able to figure it out. If you are still stumped, then feel free to shoot me an email or on social media somewhere to find out. 😉

~T 😀

Dec 022021
 

Last year, I sort of skipped my usual month-long period of reflection and envisioning what the next year will look like for me. For the world, 2020 will be a year remembered as when our concept of normal started to be redefined.

Looking back, 2021 has been an even better year than 2020 for me/us.

We managed to nearly finish our Italian residency (when that is done – with card in hand – I will update on that). We have agreed to purchase a new house that we love and has all kinds of positive energy in it that I barely notice that I either haven’t stepped outside all day or left the property in days. 😉 The Universal Asian platform has evolved, rebranded and continues to grow such that I am confident that it is on the verge of bursting into a money-making venture. Friendships have grown, been lost, and depended upon. M and I are still strong together despite a few up and down days, but our love continues to flow. My health is in good condition and I am overall satisfied with my exercise 💪🏽 and weight.

So, not a bad year upon reflection and my mental health wheel of life seems to be evenly balanced. Therefore, it is time to expand the diameter of it for greater fullness.

One area that I am planning on focusing 2022 on is in my writing ✍️ . I’m tired of my own claims to want to write a novel and not having anything to show for it. I’m tired of making excuses for why I don’t or can’t write. Therefore, as I type this post, I am sitting in a cafe as the beginning of my commitment to make weekly writing dates away from the house, on my own, and refusing to give in to other distractions that present themselves on my phone, in my inbox, or wherever. It’s no easy task, but it is necessary. I know I have read enough books 📚 on what I need to do now that it is time to put into action and create results!

Along with this, I am going to make a concerted effort to finish my book coaching course that I started in November 2020. Although I mostly started it for my own benefit to understand what it takes to consider writing a book, I also feel that it is something that I can do on the side over time.

One might think that running the platform is plenty, and in most ways it is, but I intend to build it up to the point that it can run itself or become an entity on its own. So, while TUA is a passion project, it is not enough fulfillment of my creative side. Therefore, I want to spend 2022 giving more attention to who I am as a creative, a writer, and somewhat quirky human. 🤪

~T 😁

Dec 012021
 

**Found this in my draft folder from sometime in 2019, but still feels apt now, so publishing anyway. 🙂 **

I moved away from my home because I hate the rain. If it weren’t for my family, I would probably never go back because most of my life there was spent in a state of depression. Sounds too dramatic, doesn’t it?

Okay, I admit I have many happy memories and everyone knows that I adore my family. Still, I have no doubt in my mind that if I had stayed I’d be on all kinds of antidepressants or using my vacation days to escape the gloomy mood that inevitably hits me.

Having spent nine years in a country that had no more than a week or two of rain or grey and sun that allowed me to have a permanent bikini tan line, I find myself a bit disconcerted by the fading melanin of my skin pigment and the number of rainy days that have come already this year.

As my skin color fades to an opaqueness, I find parallelism in the fact that my mind is also starting to move into a state of blankness.

The other day I commented on the fact that these days I find myself not pondering on much of anything. While a meditative goal is to free the mind of all thoughts, I wonder if this is what that means. M attributes it to the fact that we have very little to worry about these days compared to before. Maybe he is right. Perhaps the past has given me some perspective on the present and I no long find the need to dwell on the smaller matters. I do know that A LOT less gets me worked up – despite what my husband might say. 😛

Still, this “calm” makes it rather difficult to write because I got nothing filling my head with angst – or if I do, I just let it go rather than stew….

Thankfully, (or not!) the rain still brings a pensive 🤔 atmosphere. Even though I do not get too upset by getting wet (wait until typhoon season and I’ll be singing a different tune!), I do get tired and greyer with the dark skies. Even my clothing went from spring pink colors to greys and blacks.

So, I guess that I should be happy when the rain comes because at least it activates my creative side. However, I probably should find another way to motivate myself to do the writing I want to do because one day I hope to live in a temperate climate and will still need a creative outlet. For now, I’ll try to appreciate the rainy days and enjoy the quiet in my mind.

~T 😀

Nov 232021
 

For the TUA platform, we have had a few events that share the creative works of others. As I experience the events, I find myself envious of the community and the expression of their work.

As a child, I desperately wanted to share my stories and searched for others to hear my words. Yet, I never really did. My mother would read my stories and critique for grammar or flow, but if she actually understood my words, I didn’t know. My father would read my stories from school and though he might have appreciated the content, I think he didn’t see the point of my wanting to write. They are not to blame, by any means. However, if I had had a community of adoptees or other Asians with whom we could share our creative energy, I would have pursued such a path more vehemently.

Instead, it has always been a hobby to write poems or stories. I’ve had a few pieces published in actual print and I have contributed to online publications before starting TUA. However, despite my desires to make writing my main focus, I have not. M claims that perhaps it is not really a passion or dream of mine to write since I have not yet done it. It’s true, there really is nothing stopping me and I do have the time, for the most part.

Yet, I do not write.

But, I am a writer.

Still, I do not write what I should write.

However, I do write on my blog, in my journal on a daily basis, stories now and then, for my writing group when inclined.

So, where or what is the problem?

I blame time. I blame distractions. I blame the platform. I blame my husband. I blame…myself. I blame…fear. I blame the what-ifs.

They say that we have to create a habit and a routine. I keep saying that I can’t or don’t need to. They write. I only do sometimes. Perhaps it is time for me to finally push aside my stubbornness and admit they are ‘write’ and I am not. Though I like to forge my own way in life, there is something to be said for the proven track record of others – they can’t all be wrong, can they?

Yet, I recall never having to stay up all night to write academic papers because the way that I write was not like my peers. So, while ALL of my peers pulled all-nighters to finish a paper, I wrote mine during the day in a matter of hours because I had put most of it together in my head. I also brew on topics and stories in my head before they ever hit the keyboard/pen to paper. Then, I sit and “vomit” it out. Still, there must be a balance because I do know that the creativity aspect is not being accessed regularly. I know that I could write more. I know that I could have more polished and powerful pieces than I do.

Thus, all this circling in my brain is to say, I have creativity envy. I admit it. I don’t like it and so I shall take some space to consider, adjust, and reconfigure how I remove the envy and join the community more actively. 😛

~T 😀

Oct 192021
 

A recent conversation on writing with emotion has gotten me finding clouded spaces in my head. There are parts of my brain that remain behind locked doors, both out of choice and out of subconscious survival mechanisms. However, I am in a good and safe space these days that perhaps I can at least take a peek through the keyholes of some of these doors to let in some light.

I see auras. They aren’t colorful auras of the rainbow that some say they can see, but rather variations of light and dark. I base my decisions on whether or not to like someone or to allow myself to be in a space depending on the shades I see. When this started to happen I cannot say, but I imagine that I have had this way of viewing the world from birth. It has only been in recent years that I have come to acknowledge it as a flashlight that can guide me in what often feels like the dark.

My first memory of a shadow and darkness was while in my first family upon being adopted in the States. Words came out of my mouth, but the faceless shadow overhead neither understood nor reacted with lightness. This left my psyche confused and forever marked with a fear of being unheard and misunderstood. My world was mostly dark during the two or three years that I was in this family. Some flashes of light pass through my mind when I recall my first snow day.

The world was white outside. My older brothers and I went out into the snow to play. I giggled freely with joy and unadulterated mischievousness that comes from snowball fights and building snowmen. The sweet taste of warm apple cider still lingers on my lips as I warmed from the cold outside, letting the crisp freedom of the day fill my heart with a rare and fleeting moment of lightness. 

That flash of memory would be the last light I would see for many years. It was also the day that I was taken away from this family in which I was just beginning to find my place. Grey confusion filled me, and still does even now, in trying to piece together the puzzle of why I was removed and the irony of it being one of the best days I had had up to that point.

Dark shades of grey remain as a fog of mystery over the next six months following that blissful snow day when I was supposedly under a protective umbrella of bright light. It wasn’t until my mid-thirties that I discovered the mechanisms of singing, swinging my legs in joy, and laughing out loud – the humorous side of me – had been nourished for a sweet six months, but my mind had hidden it away under an opaque grey cover. 

It’s as if my heart and mind conspired together to wrap up all the love and joy that I must have had knowing that it would be the only thing to keep me alive in the years to come. So, I buried the art of laughter and humor deep inside until I no longer recognized it as a positive part of the world. Instead, I see it as a way to tell the truth in a mean way. Perhaps, though, I am still wanting to protect the light that lies beneath.

During the extremely dark years from ages 5 to 8, I never saw more than fleeting spots of light much like driving on a rarely traversed road at night. My many stories of physical abuse, psychological warfare, religious brainwashing, and confusion of sexual touches as expressions of love were all surrounded in darkness and lies. There is no humor to be found. Instead, I determined that life was only worth living if I was honest with myself and to others. Honesty provided me with a semblance of light like a fluorescent bulb in a dimly lit room. 

It was his honesty that showed me how to let in the light when my father told me directly the most ironic statement, “You won’t last long in this family if you can’t learn to take a joke.” At eight-years-old, I cried deeply at this. There was so much in that one sentence that neither he nor I could have known its significance at the time. Would I last very long in my third adoptive family? His directness gave me freedom to be, to see, to feel honesty at last from those on whom I depended. More importantly, laughter and joy was required by the taking and telling of jokes. 

Well, I did last with them and I will forever refer to my family, and my father especially, as my guardian angels of light. Aside from my husband, these are the only people with whom both honesty and humor are no longer shady auras of the dark, but are rather an immense ball of bright radiance.

So, although I still lack appreciation for the humorous aspects of life preferring directness that is found in being honest, I realize that if I allow myself to dive deeper within, my underlying emotions are actually rife with humor, which provides me with the strength to reflect on my early years with more smiles than tears.

Sep 012021
 
  • Happiness today is a sense of accomplishment
    reflecting on how the last year has went,
    but also taking a break
    to see what will awake
    for more success
    in feeling more, not less.
  • Happiness today is setting aside time for me
    and letting the mind and body just be
    focused on with a massage
    without a worry or concern about my visage.
  • Happiness today is a good night’s sleep
    waking up and out of the deep,
    fully rested for the day ahead
    and getting out of the right side of the bed.
  • Happiness today is the grey Monday morning
    that focuses one to work inside without a sense of forlorning
    that usually comes
    when one prefers to play in the sun.
  • Happiness today is the realization of a routine
    that has become natural again, if you what what I mean?
    The tea preparations made
    and the mat is laid
    to start the day
    in a positive way.
  • Happiness today is a sense of fulfilling
    the life purpose that is developing
    to be in the spirit that inspires
    others to aspire
    and be
    the greatest human they can see.
  • Happiness today is reconnecting with a friend
    with whom one was unsure if the connection was at an end
    because life has ups and downs
    but changes occur in leaps and bounds;
    so to reconnect
    does positively the soul affect.
  • Happiness today is believing in myself and my convictions
    so as not to be led by others’ predilections
    toward drawing lines requiring one to decide
    rather than respecting a different side
    for life is not about disparity
    but rather in acknowledging our unity.
  • Happiness today is having a sense of connection
    with others even though I’d rather be in my own section
    most of the time – still finding what unites us
    can be worth all the fuss.
  • Happiness today is enjoying the quiet
    away from the voices that riot
    from time and space in my mind
    and taking the time to myself be kind.
  • Happiness today is the starting of the week
    laying plans that will undoubtedly need to be tweaked,
    but still there is excitement in what is ahead
    enough, to get this one out of bed.
  • Happiness today is waking up feeling okay
    despite an evening of libations and laughing away
    with newish friends in the town
    during the spring jazz festival time getting down.
  • Happiness today is feeling heard
    to be given time to sit and listen to the birds
    and surround myself in the calm
    before all the bells alarm!

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