Creative Meanderings

Nothing creative today, though my emotions run high still with love, laughter and joy. Sometimes I think I need to be pinched to shake me out of this state of bliss I’m in. Yet, the truth is, why should anyone want out of this state??? So, I’m writing a more personal entry today – not usually found on my normal blog even- but, I think it gives some context to my current and future writing.

For most of my known life, I’ve been writing. It started at 8-years-old when I decided it was time to write things down so that I would remember them since I had vague memories before then. Most of what I had wasn’t good and with my new family (the Bilyeus) I was finally making happy memories that I wanted to keep. At the time, I didn’t know how long I would be staying with the family, so I wised up to the purpose of writing.

Now, over 25 years later, I write as reflection and a release. Sometimes it’s as if my thoughts and feelings aren’t real unless I’ve written about them and given them some solid form of existence in this world. I’m not sure what that’s about just yet, but I’ll continue to think on it. ;P

Occasionally I go back over my writings and reflect on how I’ve felt or the state that I was in. As I read back over my recent poems, I can sense the depths of my peaceful state. There’s no sense of uncertainty like there are in previous poems. (Do my random readers see this too?) Though I like to write about love or angst, or other such sentiments, I’m usually much less sure about the nature of my feelings or the ones I may claim to have them for. So, this current place I’m in is new and amazing. It’s like my mind has taken on a different level of peace, contentment and joy.

Every day I laugh. Every day I feel happy and content. I owe that to having found someone I love deeply and truly. He makes me want to be a better person. He makes me want to achieve more. He makes me feel beautiful inside. He knows my moods and thoughts often without speaking and we understand each other like few or even none have ever understood us before. Each day I make a prayer of thanks that he is in my life.

So, when I write, I feel like I strive to find the best ways to express/represent these feelings that run through my soul. Usually, I write to release the subtle or blatant frustrations or doubts of my emotions. Now, I’m writing to release the joy and bliss that is hard to keep bundled up inside.

And so, I’ll end my long post here. I’m in love. I’m in love with who I am. I’m in love with who I am with. I’m in love with who I am, with who I am with. And, while I would normally make a wry statement of sarcasm to lighten the vomit-factor of this happy-state; instead I’ll just end with a contented smile. 😀

Until next time…

-T

There was this person I once knew who used to worry about everything. She used to cry every night to sleep and wonder why it seemed that God really must hate her. When she became a free adult, she felt lost and confused about what she was meant to do in this world and then she found love. In that love, she found an identity that was suitable and what she needed at the time.
Through the love, this person was able to reach into her core and confirm what she really stood for. For most of her early childhood, she was lied to and learned it wasn’t worth lying herself. When a lie would threaten to enter her life, she could feel the darkness, the sweat and the worry creep into her very soul. So, she always had to set it free.
Through the love, this person was able to gain confidence in her sense of integrity and honesty that would bless her amongst friends, in her work and the way she attempted to live.
The love stabilized her, anchored her and defined her.
Then, the love began to die. Her world began to shatter piece by piece and all that she stood for began to crumble. The love died and disappeared and this person was left confused, lost and unknown. She began to panic and in that panic became someone she did not recognize.
The lies became easier. The darkness was welcomed. The worry from days of old returned and was like a comforting blanket. Her honesty and integrity was lost. It seemed it had not served her well in the past. She questioned what it was all for.
As time passed, she would see glimpses of herself from the days of love and miss that person she used to be. But, she didn’t know how to return to that person without the love, without the anchor and sense of stability. She searched for it. She looked for it in others. She looked for it in work. She looked and looked.
Then, one day she decided it was time for a drastic change. She took on the challenge to move away from all that she knew and loved to redefine who she wanted to be. However, the dark blanket was not easy to let go and she held on to some parts of the way she had become, until at last, she was overwhelmed by the burden of the darkness and tired of what it was doing to her soul. Finally, she gathered the strength to let go and to be free.
That person.. was me – is me. That person has found a new love, but it’s a love inside myself – for myself. To be completely honest, there is a new love from external sources and that love has reminded me of the comfort, anchor and stability I had before. But, the real beauty is, that it is coupled with the love that I’ve also found and accepted inside myself to be the person I want to be; to reclaim the honesty and integrity that has served me well before; to be beautiful and true on the inside and outside, through and through.
So, the person that was me for the past several years has taught me to take control and be the person that is me and will be a me to be proud of.

-TW
~February 9, 2010

Thought it might be good to change up the content a bit. I can’t believe that I have been writing so much poetry. It’s been years since I’ve had the desire to write again. Too many years spent silent, unhappy in the dark.

So much to say and yet no way to say it all. Poems express succinctly the deeper feelings within my soul. Though I write often in my diary, I do not write enough prose in story form. I want to write stories, but am not sure how to start or even how to finish. One day I will have time to just write and perhaps then I will never stop.

Now, my heart is up and down. My life is moving forward. My mind is weary but sharp. All is well and yet somehow I feel as if the end is drawing near…

Until next time…

-T

My Japanese friend, her mother and I walk into a Coach store in New York City. Everyone is always very friendly in these stores because they want you to spend hundreds of dollars on their product – and I very much want to!

As a nice lady introduced herself, she asked where we were from and decided to guess. I laughed, thinking “good luck” and continued browsing. Her first guess for my friend and her mother was Malaysia. Unusual, but interesting. My friend politely said No and then said they were Japanese.

The nice lady was surprised and said, “I would have guessed she (pointing at me) was Japanese, but not you guys.”

My friend and I exchanged looks and laughter. The nice lady noticed and said, “So, where are you from?”

I politely replied, “From Oregon.”

“Interesting. I would have totally thought you were Japanese because you have such nice skin.”

My friend laughed and said, “That’s it! That’s why you are always confused, it’s the skin!”

Hm… is my thought. In fact, I feel a little disgrutled by my Korean heritage because aren’t Koreans generally better known for their beauty and skin? If they aren’t, why not? Most Korean women I see have much better features than Japanese women. No offense, but …

Anyway, this is the first reason that is starting to make sense for my mistaken identification.