I Build a Home (excerpt)

One day I joined a writing class recommended by my friend. 

I knew I can write, but something else was missing—

I had no voice. 

I was stuck in a rut, I couldn’t fully embrace the gift of words I was given.

Old fears came creeping back to haunt me—I wasn’t good enough because nobody told me I was.

Nobody told me I was loved.

But within this circle of phenomenal women, I felt alive.

I clustered, I doubted myself, I pushed my right brain to its limits, and I put pen to paper—

word after word filling up with conviction, with confidence, with clarity.

I found my voice. 

I felt myself grow in Ms. Tweetums’ writing class, in this warm cocoon of wise women who welcomed me. 

What does the future hold for me?

I don’t know what to expect, but I’ll let every day surprise me.

I know now that I don’t have to pretend to be someone I am not.

For years, I’ve been trying to repress myself, not realizing that the best version of me

is just allowing space to be myself, to feel more snug in my own skin.

That it’s my birthright to shine and create magic out of the ordinary.

Not everyone is meant to go on the same road.

I have the power to choose, be at the helm of my own ship.

I will follow my heart wherever it leads me to.

I want to make my own rules and follow or break them at will.  

I don’t want to feel embarrassed that I haven’t been kissed yet nor kissed a lover back. 

I want to share my life with someone worthy—who can handle my passions, accept me quirks and all, and makes space for my brilliance beside their own.

I want to laugh with abandon more often and smile at strangers.

I want to twilight and gaze at sunsets familiar and foreign. 

I want a small, bright house filled with books and a garden.

I want a simple, quiet life brimming with love and light.

I am a cat, the color yellow, dreams of raspberries, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, a Vestal virgin, a constant pilgrim, the Star in tarot, a modern Bildungsroman, a writer.

I am a phenomenal woman.

And I continue to build a home for myself.                    

🌻

You need to be made of sterner stuff, dear, before you can be ready to build a life with someone you love.

Love is not always lounging on a queen-sized bed during the weekends and making coffee the way she likes it. There will be days when the coffee spills and she’s late for work, and nights when you refuse to sleep on the same bed, just to prove a point. There will be times when you’ll do the opposite of what she tells you not to, just to get a rise out of her, and times you’ll be so frustrated with her stoic silence, you’d want to wring her neck.

No one ever said love was easy, but it’s also a rarity to find someone willing to dive into the darkness with you, and glide through the thoughts that cripple, and the words that ruin if you let them. All the things you sweep under the rug and never talk about unless the rug is bunching up already, you can’t hide the dust mound any longer.

I am telling you now, it would be the stormiest night before our dawn
And hardships would be twice the load of normal
I know all these things before they even come
What I want to know now is am I made of sterner stuff?
And are you?
I would need unlimited supply of patience and compassion to make room for you,
To reassure you every day that my love doesn’t end in the words I write,
It fights to live in moments when to trust is to risk everything we’ve known
And meet the aftermath, hands clasped together
But I’m your poison apple, your weakness, they’d whisper into your ear,
The one thing that’ll ruin your ambition
And with little thought you’d drop me like a hot potato on asphalt
I wouldn’t know what hit me before I got up

If you can’t be strong on your own, might as well be content to tell yourself, yes I love her, but I’m not brave enough to build my love a home. Then let go. Release it to the wind. Instead of fumbling around in a playhouse of sticks that crumbles at the slightest pull.

Worth of words

From one of my writer inspirations on IG, Amie McNee. ~

My mantra especially on days when my mother tells me I should get paid for having a poem published in a literary journal or when my juvenile essay was picked in an international writing contest and published in an anthology. And I try my very best to keep my cool (and my fiery temper at bay) whenever I try to explain why I don’t get paid for those. Reality is, I don’t always get paid for writing (that’s what day jobs and sidelines are for). And not every thing I write will be fit for public consumption. Heck, an iceberg-chunk of some things I wrote still make me go, “Wtf, these shouldn’t even see the light of day!” But what some people don’t get is that I’m not in this for the rare possibility of being suddenly catapulted into the spotlight out of obscurity (not a spotlight hogger), or living off on royalties (good luck on that 😉😉). I count myself lucky I got something published in print and got acknowledgement letters for some pieces I submitted than nothing at all. But even without recognition, I will still write. For myself. For love, for life, for personal growth. I write because it’s my calling. It’s what my soul is drawn to do, to be, to share with the world or a handful of precious loves. And when it’s something your soul calls out for you to do–whatever it is, getting paid for it is a welcome bonus, like that longed-for slice of decadent cake at the end of a meal, or the extra yummy drizzle of caramel or chocolate sauce on your sundae. 💖

An exercise in honesty

We’re onto the third quarter of the year already. A lot has happened since last year. I lost a few people but gained a lot of kindred spirits. Not new friends to replace what’s lost, but souls I connect and vibe with. Beautiful, honest, imperfect people who teach me to be kinder and more generous of spirit. Who teach me that it’s okay to be me (softly sassy, quirky Lea and all) and to be more open to possibilities. And I don’t know how it’s possible, but I feel like my world is expanding every day. 😊

I’m also trying to be more honest with myself. And honestly, all I ever want to do is to write, to create, to build a home, to love unconditionally. All these things I’m not just good at, but passionate about. That light me up inside whenever I do them. It would be nice to have someone to share this with. I don’t know if I’m ever truly ready but yes I want this kind of bliss too. And I’ve been thinking more about this lately than before. It would be nice to not be afraid to love and be loved. It would be nice just to hold someone’s hand and share the happiness brimming from within you to your precious person. I’d love to do that someday.

Eleven Changes

“Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.”

-Yoda
  1. I never thought I would enjoy being challenged by yoga and want to do it again.
  2. I never thought I’d be excited to research and include vegan and vegetarian options in my diet.
  3. I never thought I’d be into meditation.
  4. I never thought I’d read and learn a lot from the likes of Tosha Silver and Abraham Hicks.
  5. I never thought I’d lose longtime friends only to meet beautiful and familiar kindred spirits I vibe with in unexpected places.
  6. I never thought I would rise up spiritually and find my own soul tribe.
  7. I never thought I would be a leader in my own way or a teacher/mentor to someone.
  8. I never thought I would uncover my long-buried unique voice and write poems and stories that people want to read.
  9. I never thought I could be a light to friends and anyone in need.
  10. I never thought I would believe in the Universe and guardian angels again.
  11. I never thought I would find love in someone so unexpected and trust that this person loves me too despite the silence and perceived obstacles.

And the constant theme running through all these changes I have gone through and are currently going through: “You are safe, you are blessed. You are loved beyond measure.” ❤🌻💛

Full Moon Healing

I have always been drawn to the hypnotic beauty of the full moon. In my imaginings, if I had lived in ancient or mythological times, I would’ve been one of those woodland nymphs who wore flower crowns and flowing white dresses, or wise women who braved the wilderness at night and cast aside all their worldly concerns to dance in ecstasy under the light of the full moon. And while I’m very much aware this would be labeled as pagan today (I don’t care much about labels, anyway), I still find the thought empowering. That these women harnessed power, beauty, mystical wisdom, and seduction into their physical forms, to use however they saw fit. These days, spiritual gurus say you can indeed harness the powers of the full moon by setting your intentions–anything you want to release and let go of. Since I can’t just go out into the woods and dance under the full moon (too many real world dangers at present to make this happen), I’ll settle for this instead.

I want to let go of people who have been untrue and have hurt me in any way. People who I gave my heart to once–my secrets, my innermost thoughts and feelings. Even those who at some point I considered family or someone I could entrust my life to but have done irreparable damage to the trust I gave them. There’s no going back now. But I do not regret the love and trust I gave away for it was my choice to give it to them wholeheartedly. They were learning experiences in my personal journey and soul growth. I can forgive, but it sure is a big damn well of relief to know that it’s okay to let them go for my own good, so thank you for all the things I learned from you. I am the strong woman I am today because of the painful but necessary changes I went through.

I also want to release doubts, worries, and fears dampening my enthusiasm for life. I am magic, I have power, I can create, I can make things happen. Most of all, I can write. And I can love. Strip away everything–all the titles and achievements and awards. All your money and material possessions. What’s most important is your ability to love and be loved.

All those times you were searching blindly for happiness and answers to your own questions in others–that time has ended now. What you wanted was yourself all along–whole and powerful. What you wanted was freedom and independence from anyone and anything preventing you to be your true self, to bloom and to shine. What you needed was to find love, strength, courage, and peace within yourself.

Precious

You are too precious for words sometimes

that I don’t know how to write about you

How you have always been special

and I refused to see it–

a constant low humming at the back of my mind

I’ve gotten used to for years

But was afraid to give it a name, to carve out

a space for you in my heart

Nobody would understand–

It would be the secret that exploded

but that only added fuel to the fire

quietly raging within

And you did it yourself–

You carved out your name in my heart

with impossible deeds and a love so familiar

It’s impossible to push you back to the safe corners

and pretend you were just a footnote in my saga

You are the spark that lit my history book into flames,

pushing me to write the best story of my life

——–

*I pride myself on my inner knowing–how I trust in it fully and how it has moved me upwards, how it flows easily into me and how I wield it more than others do. But there are times when I am stumped. Days like now, I don’t know what to think and my trust on my very intuition falters. I DON’T KNOW. I don’t know what to do about this. But one thing I still know for sure: You are precious and will always be. Even despite all doubts that this can’t be happening, all thoughts that this isn’t mutual, and all efforts to not make it more than what it is…you are still stubbornly precious. That is true. And another truth: I wrote this poem for you.