remembering your light.

lightbeam
sunstream;
yes, you.
yes, you.

lightwork is shadow work. shadow work is lightwork.

in oneness, we are not separate from seemingly dual concepts or from one another; all exists at once simultaneously in wholeness— a continuous flow of becoming and unbecoming.

choose your light. even in shame, even in anger, even in fear.

use it to offer yourself perspective, including a reminder of your true essence and why you exist.

allow its sweetness and gentleness to enrich and fortify your journey ahead.

and just the same— allow it to illuminate your shadows and ours.

there is joy in truth, even when it hurts.

note: this post is far from an invitation to spiritually bypass— please read carefully.

best/worst.

your worst and best work

have more in common with each other

than with everything in between.

best/worst. two sides of the same coin. passion and truth expressed are often met with polarity. we make that polarity mean a lot and often allow it to fracture us.

the content of the polarity does not necessarily matter. that polarity occurred is what to note. it means you have stirred souls. your work has met its vibrational directive in helping shift the collective— whether or not people are aware or accept this.

creativity is so subjective, so personal, spiritual. yet we judge it, critique it, categorize it. who and what is the decider? what determines the worth and veracity of our work?

can “bad” work be good? be truth? be actually not bad and instead great in its badness? who is it bad to and why? are you bad? did you do bad? did you fail? i think you won because you created.

creation is a statement to the universe. creation is presence. it is a striving and an aliveness that is unlike any other human experience. creation is saying yes, being yes. being. how is that bad?

how is everything that we put ourselves into not valuable and important? all shades of subjectivity are moot if creativity and work are proof of our aliveness and our truth striving to be expressed.

each output, each iteration is information; a window into ourselves, our connectivity, and the world around us. in creating, we are learning to know ourselves and everything more. is there a worst knowing? to me, knowing is always best— even when it hurts.
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“good” and “bad” might not be as different as we thought; both are subject to being distilled to the is-ness of everything. in creating, i am here. in creating, i am.

i am. i am. i am.

rude ass people

i’ve been trying a thing. when i come across stank people in real life, i take pause after my initial feeling of offense. i create space for the possibility that they may be going through something or that the only way they know how to cope with their trauma is by being an ass.

doesn’t make it “right” but it’s also their very real reality + ultimately has nothing to do with me. their choices are their own business. their capacity might be less than mine, so i also count my blessings. i try to have compassion instead of taking it personally. within reason, i think it’s better for all involved.

a messenger on the c train

universal confirmation. today it came through my brief but profound encounter with tamara and trinity on the c train.

our connection occurred in immediate, rapid, and seamless succession. the entire interaction was probably no more than a few minutes.

upon walking in, tamara sat right next to me on the fairly empty train and tiny trinity swung around on her mother’s lap in glee. i wasn’t looking at them as they walked in, but i felt their energy pulling me to turn my head.

i looked up and over— trinity’s face was looking up. she was so joyous. “you’re excited, aren’t you?!” she smiled and wiggled around a bit more. 

tamara then fully flung us into the vortex we’d collectively activated; she began talking as if she were reciting something just for me.

‘telepathy? i believe we [humans] were originally telepathic but were socialized out of it for economic gain.’

she’d seen the google search results for “telepathy” on my phone; up until that point, i was fully engrossed in deciding whether or not to post the above graphic. as part of this process, i’d looked up the dictionary definition of telepathy to decide if i should post the graphic with or without explanation. would people be able to connect with such an “out there” declaration? and per my last post, would they get it? did *i* even get it? similar to my poem-quote thingies, the phrases for my word illustrations come largely from spontaneous, intuitive downloads.

i then flipped my phone screen to the graphic: “telepathy is natural.” the words encompassed the exact sentiment she’d almost compulsively given me a mini speech on. i told her the universe had clearly sent her to me as confirmation.

she began asking me about myself and i wanted to know more about her. my stop came within seconds. though i wanted to skip my stop and talk more, i made the split second decision that it was more “appropriate” to carry on with my intended route. i left with great hesitation, lingering outside the door as i waved goodbye.

“post it!” tamara yelled out, smiling.

some people who cross our paths are meant more as messengers. fitting that the sweet fleeting moments we share are a beauty their own.

<3

the fall and the catch

there was a time when it was quite common for phrases or insights to pop into my head without fully knowing what they meant— some form of channeling, one might say. the first time this poem/quote entered my mind and probably when i shared it, i had a certain fleeting felt sense of what it meant but it still wasn’t something i could firmly grasp.

i went on a qigong retreat near vancouver a few years ago, and the women who i was paired to carpool with said she’d browsed my site and really liked my poetry; she referenced a couple favorites and this was one of them. i remember feeling a little uneasy because i didn’t know how i felt about this poem at that point— in fact, i’d forgotten the subtle body knowing of whatever its meaning was and just had no idea what it meant or why i wrote it. i awkwardly thanked her, feeling hella embarrassed and like a fraud inside.

and then i carried on with my life because whatever. eventually, i remembered that the things that come through me are sometimes not fully baked in my intellect because: 1) they don’t have to be and just because my mind doesn’t hold a given  wisdom doesn’t mean it’s not integrated somewhere else in my being 2) they present an opportunity for me to grow into a given learning 3) they might not be for me and instead for someone else.

anyhoo, somewhere along the way this year, the meaning for this poem clicked back into place in my body somewhere. and it also happens to be that i currently once again need this wisdom in my life. it is this:

when we perceive ourselves to be free falling or failing, it is in fact grace that the universe has offered our unknowing selves. in the fall is the opportunity to learn, to reset, to change perspectives, to let go, to start anew; at the same time that you are falling, you are being held. the falling, thus, is inherently in itself a holding. it is a passage through which you are being carried. regardless of how bumpy, haphazard, or non-linear this space is— it has a design and a meaning that is just for you.

may we all recognize oneness when we dissolve duality.

<3

holding duality for my birthday.

you can. i gotta keep telling myself.

yesterday, i turned 36 and took a stroll around the city as i have over my last few birthdays. people watching, practicing mindfulness, popping into shops, and eating some great food along the way. the simple things that allow presence and gratitude fill me up.

after a beautiful lunch honoring south asian women, i walked into the lush and wonderfully curated rizzoli bookstore. almost immediately, i became emotional; all the books were people’s stories and hearts all around me— all the labor, love, tenderness, pain, fervor, triumph, quirks and imperfections of all these human journeys. all these individual truths laid out to be witnessed.

it felt sacred. i found my fingertips grazing the covers, soaking in the simple profundity of this recognition and reality; wanting to intentionally sit and be with all that was in front of me.

one of the first titles i stopped to pick up was dark money by jane mayer— a book that had been recommended to me about a year ago when canvassing for the midterm elections. it’s about how a few billionaire families have been puppeteering american politics and what we should know + perhaps do about it. that shit heavy.

as i was putting that book down, a guy walked up and reached around me to drop back a book he had been browsing— homo deus by yuval noah harari, a renowned oxford educated historian. harari’s titles had also been recommend to me, one of which happens to be the top book reco of mark zuckerberg and bill gates. homo deus, which postulates on the future of humanity, is the second in a triology— first is sapiens, a history of humanity, and third is 21 lessons for the 21st century, a prescription for moving forward in light of the dystopia harari predicts and maps out in homo deus. based off the book jacket, let’s just say that the future feels awful bleak and inhuman.

i felt myself buzzing and lightheaded, hoping to take flight outside of my body somewhere— a place where i didn’t need to make sense of things.

i generally try to shield myself from consuming much at all about the state of the world because it quite literally makes it near impossible for me to function. i largely know what i need to know about what’s fucked up. i’d like to focus on the part where we heal it.

my disembodied frame is standing at a display table in the middle of the bookstore. who knows where we will end up. we might perish soon. i don’t know why, but i figure i should probably try to keep hope.

i compose myself the best i can and tell myself that though i’m falling out, the wisdom of this heralded historian is likely worth the strife to arm myself with the knowledge i need for the fight ahead. i make note to start reading sapiens soon.

i scoot over one or two display tables away. i see oprah’s new book, the path made clear. i remember hearing an audio preview of the book on her podcast and feeling like i could personally do without it. the cover looked corny. nonetheless, i cracked it open to ‘see what this thing was talking about.’

i realized that the book isn’t just about life in general, but it’s about identifying and living your purpose with wisdom, insights, and advice— a companion for the various hurdles along this path. these bits are pulled from oprah’s interviews with successful folks over the years. trying to clarify and figure out how to live my purpose has been the prime focus of my life for the last 3-5 years.

i thumbed through the chapters, doing an extremely cursory skim to get a better feel of what the book was trying to do, and perhaps benefit from an insightful quote or two. i started finding bits that hit and knew this book would be peppered with reminders i really need during this time in my life. i began tearing up. then i found a phrase that almost mirrored the title of a podcast i’ve been meditating on creating for about a year, and that i’ve begun to give more serious attention to in recent weeks.

i was now on the verge of melting into a puddle of tears in the middle of the bookstore. tears streamed down my face and as i sniffled, i felt the security walk away from near me to give me some privacy.

i was crying, first, at the divine orchestration that led me to open up the book despite my initial disinterest. second, and more searingly, i was crying at the contrast of hope and despair i’d experienced just moments apart.

to traverse this wide span of converse emotion in such a short timeframe had me shook; what a wild array of stuff life is.

i came to some conclusions.

i don’t know anything, but i know that a courageously open heart will always win. in light of a dystopian future that might or might not be out of our hands, i believe that love counts for something significant no matter what ultimately happens. it does lighten the load to believe that our bodies are just one piece of the universal puzzle of consciousness.

i am thankful for the reminder of the preciousness of life; to take each moment, each sensation that we are gifted to be able to perceive as a privilege and blessing.

i endeavor to be here, actually here, the best i can with whatever i am given; to allow myself space, freedom, and permission to just be in the world with no agenda, no plan, and no to do list— on a regular basis. to exist in gratitude and intention and fullness in every moment.

in fearing for the future of material existence, i somehow can’t help but be shaken into a piercingly clear recognition of how lucky i am to be here. i consciously receive this existence. thank you. i accept the privilege of honoring this body, this planet, and its inhabitants while i’ve got em <3

love is

being in love is a fractional concept; a limited attempt to grasp and express love’s infinity.

there is constriction in its selectivity, its specificity. an innocent cloudiness in the bliss. we think we’ve found home. in a way, we have.

being in love feels more like a stepping stone, a window. the vibration of another resonates with a matching counterpart within us— we vibrate. this feeling: a taste of all-permeating divine oneness. we are in recognition, remembrance of our true nature. to love and to be loved is a mirroring.

our loves are not “the ones,” exceptional unicorns uniquely deserving of our bright eyes. our loves are guides and messengers of the truth of what and who we all are. the truth of all beings: that we are love and our fabric is a single shared universal consciousness.

experiencing love is an awakening. it is an expansion that will always live with us should we choose to accept this gift. the loss of a body or a relationship can never destroy or negate the opening that was created.

being brave for love in all forms at every opportunity, without stifling it by qualification; our hearts flower open more each time, breath becomes easier. life becomes more of a being and a knowing than a doing. there is freedom.

i find myself leaning towards the softness and sweetness of simply being unconditional love; where we are deeply “in love” with all beings, all at once, at all times, without exception. i think it’s the secret to all things.

<3