In times like these, I wish for a replica of me.
To type my assignments and still watch my niece twirl with ease.
Stand smiling with friends at church while dancing with my parents at theirs.
Most days drum to the mundane, but the busy ones demand a decision. And every second, time slips by, paid to our priority of choice.
It’s on these days this thought arrests my mind: am I rightly directing my time?
In January 2017 I was diagnosed with an endometrioma on my uterus, 4.8 cm in size. I, along with my awesome community, believed for a miracle: complete healing. A follow-up with an award-winning OB/GYN told me what we hoped for: the mass was no longer there. I took a step to share this miracle online, even with a lingering suspicion that it wasn’t truly gone.
But as of today, May 12, I’ve got news.
The mass is back.
Continue reading “The Miracle Behind The Mass”
Image credit: JB Verances // Model: Erin Fong
When I endured those unfortunate years of teenage angst (or rather, when they endured me), it was stanzas that would stand by my side. Poetry is not the first friend I think to call, but sometimes I get so taken by thought or emotion, I can’t help but pick up my pen again.
As I write from this coffeeshop now, I notice that my poetry parallels my thought process. Run-on sentences transition to rhyme. Thoughts, once scattered, settle. Not sure if there’s an actual term or poet who writes like this but… here I am, take a big whiff! Continue reading “The Art of Being”
Careening down the freeway full speed, heater on, and windows down gifted me an elation I thought was lost. As the sun streamed through my glass pane, I finally felt it: joy. Peace.
It’s crazy how much an ailment can knock you down, both physically and emotionally. Bed-ridden for the better part of four weeks, everything from my sinuses to those simple pleasures in life fell to a standstill. And if that weren’t enough, my first big project of the new year and big interview slapped me with one rejection after another faster than Netflix can queue up your next episode of FRIENDS (which, by the way, has 236 episodes. Brace yourselves.).
But I refuse to subscribe to superstition. 2016 was not a bad year in total, and neither will 2017 be, despite how it started off. Every month, day, moment is one more opportunity to grab life by its poppers and explode with glitter.
“Have you ever, felt this glitter in the air?”
Today was one of those days. Continue reading “Where Spontaneity Led Me: English Dave”
With the recent deaths of Carrie Fisher, Alan Thicke, and so many other influencers, I got to thinking about why celebrity deaths impact our hearts even if we didn’t personally know them. I came to two conclusions:
- They fully claimed, owned, and lived out what made them unique, and they did it well.
- They were remarkable human beings to know.
Continue reading “How To Live Like Carrie”
I’m two months into my return home from a 6-month missions trip for which I put my lucrative career as an advertising copywriter on pause. I watch my bank account dwindle by the day but am so peacefully confident in my purpose, I’m quite selective on my next big yes. In the meantime, I freelance, grateful to pick up projects through old connections and new ones by happenstance.
I struggled at first in social meetings, specifically this dreadful question I met with bated breath: “What do you do?” This question has been the bane of my existence since studying in Spain, where I was fortunate to inhale a culture celebratory of togetherness over the individual accomplishments of one on the job.
“What do you do?” This question has been the bane of my existence
But it’s okay. I get it. Here in America, we are put into boxes by what we do. Even the question “how are you?” is mostly met with a list of tasks, as if our dirty laundry and laundry lists are one and the same.
The problem is, what we do is only one slice of who we are, yet we’re so used to reducing a person down to his or her work.
Continue reading “These Two Words Change Lives”
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.
-The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
This is the story of a girl and her dog.
But not just any girl. And certainly not just any dog.
Her name was Penny. And Penny was unlike her kind. Continue reading “For Penny”