She will feel nothing
Feelings will evaporate, lifted away
No longer a burden on her shoulders

She will care for no words
Words will lose its meaning
They no longer have the power to hurt

She will shed tears no more
An empty well, dried out from its content
No longer capable of producing

The stage will be empty
The audience will leave the room
It is then when she will start living
It is then when peace will come to her


A Silent Birthday Prayer

Dear Lord,
please keep my friend safe
during those many nights
lying there alone in a cold room
with only the beating of machines
as her lullaby
keep her company
hold her hand
let her feel Your presence
so she knows
she is not alone

today is her special day
i’m thankful You allow her to
come this far
may she be able to breathe again
on her own and on
this special day
so she can remember
the gift You gave her
many years ago
the gift of life

i know You will take her,
i know the day will come
but for one day
for this one special day
let us have her with us
let us rejoice on Your gift to us
a gift of a friend, a sister,
a daughter, a granddaughter, a niece
let us celebrate her life
let us not waste on a gift this precious

i believe in Your work, my Lord
i believe in Your path
i believe in Your plan for us and
for her,
and i trust
that You will give her the best
and that one day
You will set her free
that one day
You will give her peace

i pray You give her the best
seeing her like that today was
beyond painful
but forgive me for saying that
because i know
You have a plan for all of us
and that it is beautiful
we just can’t always see
the beauty in Your plan

thank You for bringing her into my life
thank You for allowing me to see her again
thank You for letting me to talk to her
i know she listened
i know she understood
to see her smiling ever so faintly
that was a miracle, my Lord
that was Your work
and thank You for helping me
to not fall apart in front of her

Happy Birthday, my dear friend, my sister, my role model, my pillar of strength. Your spirit shines even from underneath those machines and tubes.

Stumbling Upon a Surprise Gift, Part II: “My Room”

There is a place at my church where I now regularly go to find calm and peace. It is a quiet place. The main building of the church stands separately from this place, yet not too isolated, for it is a big church and has a great amount of followers to keep the whole church area constantly busy. This place, my new hiding place, my source of serenity, is small. It has a name, which for the sake of my brain, the name has escaped my memory just now. Who knows, it may come back again, but I don’t feel like chasing it now. Let’s just call it a praying room, or more stylishly, “my room”.

“My room” is also my shelter. It has sheltered me from the many fierceful battles that have been going on in my head lately. I would seek it when I needed to get away from this small living place I now call home. I would definitely seek it when the need for air to breathe forced me to dig my way out of my room, walk down on the street under the hazy sun or mist of rain, and enter the space of calmness. At times like right now, as I am typing my words into this precious laptop of mine, the craziness of energy in the air and the loud shrills of excitement from the young girls who live on the two floors beneath my floor are seeping into my room through any open window or crack of holes between the door and the wall, disturbing my being all the way to the deepest parts of my brain that I did not even know exist until now, forcing this little crack of anger that is really close to burst out at any moment now. I have no clue of what is going on down there, but I really don’t give a damn. At times like this, to say that I need “my room” is an understatement. I would love to just grab a sleeping bag or mattress that I can find, drag it to “my room” and spend the night there. Excuse me for a second, but I need to take a few deep breaths. I don’t often include into my essay what is happening around me as I am doing the writing. Be right back.

*************** INTERMISSION ****************

What I do inside “my room” is probably obvious to everyone. I pray. However, more often than praying, I meditate. I tend to stay in the room for a long time. I mean, a very long time. (Is an hour considered a long time?). Sometimes for over an hour, depending on how fast my legs fall asleep or my back screams out loud for mercy. Once, I fell asleep. Yes, I swear it was only once. I’m so glad that it was a quiet and very short one and that there wasn’t any display of head bobbling that I typically do when I fall asleep sitting up. I’m not ashamed of admitting it because falling asleep is actually very common in meditation.

People tend to just sit on the floor in the room. There are sitting pillows available and a few chairs at the back of the room for those who are physically restrained to sit on the floor. I sit with my legs crossed, back straight up, and each hand on top of each leg like a Sitting Buddha, complete with my fingers making the bowl hand gesture. The hands take that form automatically because I used to do it so often at one point in my life. I have neglected this habit, meditation, because of the moving and adjustment at a new place, and so I am now rediscovering it again. I sometimes enter the room for the specific use of meditation and skip the heavy duty praying for another time. I choose to do so because I want to…listen.

To listen I think is the key element here in praying. We are often so busy talking to God, or to Whomever we believe holding the Higher Power based on our individual faith, that we forget to listen. I believe praying is not only about asking, confessing, and expressing gratitude, but also listening and being silent. And in the act of listening, we are surrendering. Only by surrendering that I think we can hear the message from God. So I figure out a new ritual. The praying room is (often) for listening to and the church for conversing with God. There is also a very small pond garden between my room and the church where a statue of Mother Mary is placed. It is Her garden, made specially for Her, with candles around the statue. The garden is located outdoor. It is another place for people to pray and have a little bit of quietness. This has also become my other refuge, if the weather permits it of course.

I’m sharing this because I AM very thankful to have discovered these places, especially “my room”. It is easy to skip the room and be clueless of its existence due to the absence of any sign or information outside of the room. It has to be by word of mouth only for anyone to know it. I remember when I first saw the room. It was also my first day attending the Sunday mass at the church. At that time I was clueless about the purpose of the room. All I could see was that within the span of perhaps 15 minutes, there were quite enough people going in and out of the room. The first thought that came to my head at that time, “Is that another public washroom? I just came from one and it’s over there (opposite direction). It can’t be that many washrooms for this church? Do people here need to go to the bathroom so often that they need to make a second one?” Then I saw that these people first took off their sandals before entering the room and their whole entering and exiting behaviors were unusually hushed and quiet. So then I quickly crossed the idea of bathroom. But then what? My question was answered a few days later when some friends and I decided to meet at the church parking lot as a meeting place before going somewhere, and one of them told me. She also accompanied me to the room for the first time, and it didn’t take me long to come back on my own, which I believe was…a day later. I have since been hooked, desperately hooked, so hooked that one time I was afraid that I may mistakenly call it “my homey”.

This whole experience made me realize how I miss meditation. Mind you, I am NOT an expert in meditation. Meditation is actually a very difficult task for me. I have not been able to master my concentration, my breathing, and just a control over my mind during meditation. My mind constantly, I mean CONSTANTLY!, wanders. To bring my mind back to the center is a constant and exhausting process. I consider a meditation day a good day when I can most of the time successfully bring my mind to focus back and end it with a focused mind. On a not so good day is when somewhere in the middle or towards the end I give up trying to focus my mind due to the amount of times I have to chase around my thoughts. A REALLY bad day is, well, when I fall asleep of course.

On my very first day of trying to meditate inside “my room”, the scene from Eat, Pray, Love (the movie) came to mind. It was the one with Julia Roberts inside the meditation room in India, trying to meditate. It looked as if she had already been in there for a while due to what seemed to be a long conversation in her head with herself, and when she looked at the clock on the wall at the end of her own busy conversation, she realized that the time had only passed for less than 5 minutes since she first planted her behind on the floor. Time truly feels like it goes very slow when all a person has to do is to SIT. This realization resulted in Ms. Roberts’ exasperated grunting and moaning. I always thought of it as a very funny scene. Everyone one of us who has tried meditation understands that scene well. We know how slow the time goes by. We know how when you stop the physical activity of your body and yet still have to stay awake, then the amount of activity seems to be travelling to the mind area. The mind/brain area suddenly becomes very active, busy, and…unfortunately, chatty.

I am happy to have shared “my room” with you. Everyone needs a place like this, a refuge, a get away. Before I came back to my home country, my refuge used to be a big park with a lake, a small forest of trees, a walking path for me to walk, and a family of ducks. It’s a beautiful place, I remember it well. During my meditation attempt here, my mind often wandered to that place. Once it decided to go there, my attempt to bring my mind back tended to be futile. Oh well. Life goes on.

And this brings me to this question for you, my readers. Do you have a “my room” of your own? Feel free to share one here in the comment section, or write it up for your own blog. I hope you all have one.

I Am a Lake

listen to the trumpet of nature

summoning all broken souls,

feel the tickle of green grass

as you watch the sun embracing my face,

escape into my lull of stillness

and i dare you to let go

my function, my purpose,

your refuge

***This poem was inspired by the collection of photos from the previous blog finding-pleasure-in-little-things. ***

On Daisies

“Don’t you think daisies are the friendliest flowers?” ~Meg Ryan, in You’ve Got Mail.

**All photos used in this post are courtesy of google images**

i am daisy

but no lazy

pick me up

and i will cheer you up

never fails


i am known as

the friendliest flower

put me to the test and

i will shower you with


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~~~ Sending happy thoughts and love through these lovely daisies to everyone special and close to my heart, particularly those who are going through tough times. I love you all. Oh, and by the way, did I mention that daisy is my favorite flower? It is my picker-upper when I’m down. ~~~

On Time


a healing tool

a medicine

a therapy

for us to discover



a blank paper

any color

any purpose

for us to write


attached to time

healing is not,


slaves to time

we all are

I Named You…Peaceful

The air was slightly cool, the wind was blowing gently, and the sun was out in full force, bringing a slightly warm feeling to the day. With the sun, the air did not feel too cold anymore.

Stepping out of the building, starting to walk toward the street and these feet suddenly stopped, because the owner’s attention was caught by the view presented in front of her. She was in awe by what the nature showed. Time to take the camera out.

Who could pass their attention from this view?  The trees were strong, tall, huge, and beautiful, but it was the blue sky behind them that emphasized their presence further. The trees on the ground and the clouds hanging by the blue sky combined together was breathtaking.

Feeling a sense of excitement, she continued to walk. Stepping her feet on the sidewalk eagerly, she could hear her own steps. Together with the steps, she could hear more sounds around her: the sound of cars passing by, children cracking up and screaming joyfully in the park nearby, birds singing on the trees. One bird caught her attention.

Can you see the bird in the picture too?

Alone with her thoughts now, she pressed on. This early evening walk, after all, is her escape. It’s an opportunity to be completely alone, left with her mind and senses. It’s a time to think through everything that has happened recently, a chance to browse through options before making a decision, a moment of silence to mourn or grief a loss, or … just a plain exercise. Her walking is a form of exercise, with the nature around her as a reward. A gym would not be able to offer the following view, wouldn’t it?

Or how about the following view. All a person has to do is look up in order to appreciate it. Another breathtaking moment.

This time of the day, right before the sun goes down, is always the best time of the day for her. There is just something about this time of the day that always brings a sense of peace and calm to her senses. To understand it, one would have to go back decades ago to her childhood. It was a time in the day where she typically just ended her afternoon nap, feeling fresh to start the second part of her day. It was a time in the day where people in her household would sit together in the dining room table sipping tea, eating snacks, and sharing stories. It was the time of the day when the house was the most crowded and alive. Often music would be played, but mostly one would hear chatters. Sometimes some neighbors or relatives would stop by to share the moment too. It was a time to look forward to after a day of school. See, it was a familiar time. She felt welcomed there, she felt belonged there. She knew the routine well.

Back to the walking…

A new activity is therefore needed to replace the childhood routine for this time of the day, and thankfully, one has been established. It’s called walking, but it is not possible without, first of all, being thankful for the warm and nice weather for it was almost impossible to do it during the harsh, cold, unfriendly winter.

Stepping ahead, she grew tired of listening to her own steps and put on the ear pieces of the ipod. Music was a good company, in addition to the company of few birds and squirrels she met during the walk. If she were lucky, she could actually synchronize her steps and the music. Music also has a way of affecting her spirit. Well, that is the purpose of music, really. It makes you feel something. A wide array of feelings she had felt during her many walks caused by her choices of music. You name it, she had felt it. The joy she felt in listening to Bruno Mars’ Count on Me or some reggae tunes; oh dear, she would burst into a dance right there in the middle of the crosswalk if she could, oh yes she would. The rush of warm feelings from the memories that Cat Stevens’ Morning Has Broken brought to her. She sang that song in a school choir during her 7th or 8th grade. Or how about the forlorn feeling from listening to Fix You by Coldplay. And Peter Rowan’s No Woman No Cry, it would make her completely lost in her mind and feel….just exactly that, happily lost.

Hearing, seeing, feeling, what is left is smelling. Oh yes, smelling. What would a person smell during a walk in a typical neighborhood during spring? If you guess grass, you are absolutely right. The smell of new born grass, trees, leaves, berries and flowers, breathing life freely after a long winter. Flowers, they are just starting to bloom. What a pretty sight to the eyes and a pleasant welcoming to the olfactory organ.

Wait, there was one more smell that she noticed sometimes during her walk and it was related to the time of the day when people are starting to prepare for dinner. People tend to eat dinner early around here, unlike where she was from when people tend to have tea time around this time of the day and dinner way later in the evening. The last smell was the smell of barbecuing and it was lovely, just truly lovely.

So, let me ask you, who could pass a time in the day like this? I know she couldn’t. Could you? It’s the best time of the day. It’s peaceful.