just because

and just like that the door opens
in my heart like a book
never closed it swings on its spine

you can read me like
a diary
or a postcard
secret stowed away
in a shoebox
smelly and old
but somehow the words
have a way of stealing
your eyes like a ladybug
flying                                    o
acro  s  s       the   m e a d    w

and everytime you open
the box or the book
is because your eyes light
bright like candles in dim night
and soft and glowing
your smile naturally lit is

Thanksgiving is best celebrated always

I can usually find three things every day that I’m thankful for. Not thankful like “I just caught the bus” or “Thank God she didn’t sit next to me” (although those are legitimate things to be thankful for), but the kind of things that really make me appreciate myself. I live in Vancouver, and as I’m sure you know, it is very rainy in the autumn. Many people complain about the rain, but that is the price we pay for having wonderful, tall trees and green pastures. (The same people also complain about the sun in the summer.) Rain means I get to wear my boots and carry an umbrella. It means I get wet. If you’re the average person then you might not understand (I know everybody says the average person doesn’t exist, but I’m sensible enough to know I shouldn’t believe what everybody says), but it really is a lot of fun to dodge car splashes from massive puddles on the way to the bus stop. It reminds me that I’m alive and I get use these things called my “legs” and “my senses.”

Life gets busy fast, and time slips by on a schedule of its own, so it’s important to remember the things that you live for.

Today, I’m thankful for three things that never go out of fashion: tea, chocolate, and books.

streams of mountain and mud (for love i do)

oh just to glance once into your eyes
and find my own completion

(and here my mind tries to get the better of
me and asks me if I am sure,
and all I can reply is does What Is
Was and Will require a reason
in defence?)

gladly would i press my lips to yours,
for a moment become eternity
for Man alone is not God (Woman and Man are)
let go from your kiss and shatter into
a million, trillion pieces,
drip from the streams of mountain and mud
to every corner rain can find

I accept all consequences.

I just can’t stay out of the bathroom

So I don’t know what’s up with my bathroom experience (is it that I go to the bathroom often because I drink a lot of water? Who knows) but today I was in a stall conveniently checking my voicemail when two bathroom buddies came in. Now I know they were bathroom buddies because the bathroom was quiet and empty and these two bursted out into conversation as if they were saving it for this particular time in the day. It was hard to determine if this was premeditated – and I had to distinguish that they were talking to each other and not me – but their conversation apeared to flow naturally. One decided that his first choice in bathroom stalls was too dirty and the other found a compromise, reciting poetry on the stall wall in reply to his friend. Being an experienced veteran of the Simon Fraser University washrooms myself, I instantly recognized the famed poem: “Here I sit broken hearted, tried to shit only farted..”

Why am I privy to this toilet talk? I do not know. Perhaps, this is  a new form of social media like Facebook, only adapted to the transitory porcelain cauldrons of college campus. No, this student must withhold judgement until further empirical study can be conducted – but let me remind you that Facebook, too, was first conceived in the halls (and therefore stalls) of college. One can only speculate what evolution this phenomenon will take in the near future.

Sick people need hugs not quarantining

*Disclaimer: I’m not advocating we all play a game of spitting into each other’s mouths and swallowing like that South Park Chicken Pox episode, but a lot of the health advice being circulated on television and in the newspaper is wrong.*

I think it’s bullshit that people go “I”m sick, stay away from me.” There are physical causes for illness and disease like direct exposure, but there are also emotional and mental causes like stress and loneliness and depression (because depression is an imbalance in life and not a disease). You do not get healthier by just treating one symptom, you get healthier by addressing the body as a whole.

As noted in this Mercola aricle, it’s the “terrain” not the microbe that determines whether you get sick or not – that is, it is the health of your body that is a better indicator of being healthy than the microbes entering your body. Dr. Mercola is an Osteopath in Chicago and that means that instead of the usual General Practitioner (also known as an Allopath), he is a physician of Osteopathy and looks at the body as a whole.

The problem with our health care system is that we have so many specialists that specialists start to look at the problem they were trained to see. So if you have pain in your hand and you go to see a hand specialist, they are likely to only consider your hand as opposed to your body as an entire functioning system.

It is no surprise nor novelty that pharmceutical industries fund the studies in advertisements (like when you hear how 1/3 of men prefer Brand A’s toilet paper fragance to Brand B) or that they control most of the medical care system. Think about it, medical equipment is “specialized” and needs to be perfect so if someone screws up due to “human error” and accidentally sews an extra stitch into Little Suzie for working inhumane hours at a stressful job, we can sue that big company and feel better having an extra $10,000 that we can use to spend on our unhealthy habits some more. Are you starting to see how it’s a bigger system thing? Bad health is a result of bad lifestyle as a result of bad food as a result of cheap business as a result of a money system as a result of complex systems as a result of the law of diminishing returns – only these are real results and not economic assumptions.

Now I understand there are far worse implications than having an extra stitch in your eyebrow, but that is why there is an importance on self-sustaining preventative care. Preventative care like eating a healthy diet that is right for your nutritional type (check out http://www.mercola.com or http://www.westonaprice.org), and learning about what it really means to take care of yourself. I’ll be honest, this is not an easy task and it takes some work – but keep in mind that the human body is meant to work. The human body needs exercise and nobody says that has to be exercising a military discipline of hitting the gym every day (though I admire those that do), but getting active and using your muscles and feeling things other than numb comfort will make a significant difference in your life. Personally, I like to cook – rice bags are good mobile exercise and if you’ve ever taken part in a family dinner you know how active you need to be to grate cheese for 20 people…or wash their dishes. The point is, we need to look at our entire lifestyles when talking about health because it’s not only physical, it’s also emotional, mental, and spiritual.

Now that brings me to hugging. I propose a significant difference that can change us for the better is to look at hugging and being sick as something negatively related to each other. That is, the more we hug the less often and worse we are sick.  Hugs produce a temporary – but significant (by my books) – change in your nervous system and you become more alert and in the state of (dare I say it?) love. You have an increase in your hormones like adrenalin which stimulates neurons firing which is something that scientists still haven’t quite figured out which I think is an empirical way of saying that’s a good thing.

I know this is not totally possible to be hugging it out, especially if you’re one of those unfortunate quarantined victims – but have you ever hugged yourself? Crazy talk, I know. It feels good. Try it. Hug yourself right now. There will be a time when you feel so alone and are very sad and remembering to hug yourself at that time would be a wise and comforting thing to do. Did you do it? Now not everybody will want a hug at any given time, but let this and this and maybe even this convince that little piece of doubt in you that there are people (like…Strangers!) out there that will hug you. Yes, I’m one of them.

I just feel like writing

It’s the early afternoon on the clock but late afternoon in the natural day. The sun is half-way to setting time and I’m inside, warm and cozy. I’m on the computer and the music is on pause because I’m writing a song and simultaneously playing another song in the Key of G. Life is good.

Today I’ve read an article that says coffee is toxic and I’m drinking the cold, creamy brown liquid in my cup because even poison tastes good. I’m not depressed – in fact, I’m alive and enjoying myself in the purest sense. I didn’t always love myself, but I’m blessed to have had someone to teach me how.

I’ve watched a movie of one of the first books I’ve read and now I’m listening to the soundtrack. Yes, it’s Where the Wild Things are. It reminds me that children and music are inseparable, for both are life.

Some day I want to move to Russia. I don’t even know why I just said that. I do love Russia despite the fact that I know very little of living there but I saw a special on National Geographic, and some long lost spark inside me came alive. Maybe I want to live the James Bond dream (I love Bond movies) and come home from “Russia with love.” There’s something about a land that though torn and broken throughout history, is still referred to as “Motherland.” I meant that without an article because I know a Russian girl and she tells me there are no articles in Russian.

I’ve missed writing although I’ve written thousands of novel in my mind. A novel is really just the literary manifestation of an image or a feeling. Both are part of a deeper reality in our hearts and a novel is making that part of our physical reality. Does that make any sense? Some day I will publish something for you to read and hold and bring with you for a train ride. But I’m not old enough yet. Will there still be trains when I’m older?

Maybe. Or probably. I don’t see that we can physically sustain a system that progressively gets “better and better” — hold on, what is ‘progress’ anyway? I don’t know the answer to that one, even though I have many answers and theories.

I like that I have theories – it means I still have a chance to be wrong and to think of something else. To be creative, we have to be wrong sometimes, it’s how you make things new.

Can you believe it’s almost Christmas? I can’t wait. I spent last Christmas with a broken heart, but my family each took a piece on Christmas day and held it with love and that’s how I put it back together. I think hearts are the one things made to be broken, because that’s how you know they’re precious and worth it. Sometimes we don’t bother taking care of the things that are important to us until they break. So we remember to take care.

From the corner of my eye

I have to tell someone.

Some poor sucker picked the stall with the loose door and it came open when I was washing my hands, and when he was wiping his bum. Twice. Think deer-caught-in-headlights look except instead of novel fascination, it was absolute horror.


Yesterday I found my word. My word is the one word in all the languages of the world, that one conceptual verbalized form of meaning, that completely embodies who I am. Right now and probably forever, that word is Family.

I’m reading (finishing) Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and ever since she’s mentioned that she’s started looking for her word, I’ve been looking for mine. It was kind of like a race. She’s won of course – after all it’s her book. For those who don’t know, Eat, Pray, Love (EPL) is Gilbert’s memoir of her mid-thirties tour of Italy, India, and Indonesia when she was leaving a divorce and post-divorce relationship behind her. She went looking for meaning in her life and – because of her previous success as a writer (NY Times being just one of her employers) – she got an advance to write about her year in a book that became EPL.

I don’t know if there’s one thing I could tell you that is awesome about this book because there are so MANY things I can tell you. I can tell you I never knew (like really knew) a thing bout Italy and now I want to desperately go to Naples to eat some authentic pizza and never be the same. Ever. I am so passionate about my spiritual life and have made some breakthroughs meditating from just reading about how transformative its role has been in Liz’s life. But don’t let that sound New Age to you, I’m talking about Old Age, Ancient and lasting transformation which is as natural and as true as Time.

But back to my word. I was reading when Gilbert was in Indonesia and had adopted a family of her own. And it hit me, like a punch on the arm but in my stomach. It felt like  a punch in the arm in my stomach. I’ve always had family around in my life and I can trace my roots not by the geographical locations I’ve been, but from the webbed, interconnected network of relationships that are the foundations of my being, the very threads of my life. My family is why I have all my family around me – because my Grandpa on my Mom’s side sponsored everybody to make a new life in Canada and because my Great, Great Grandfather on my Dad’s side did the same. My whole family’s journey to Canada is built around love, family, and bonds of unconditional trust.

The family I’ve been blessed to call family have not always been my blood relatives, though they might as well be. They are my friends, my co-workers, my classmates – my family is so huge; I want to make the world my family. I want to travel the globe and build those connections you only build in the intimacy and closeness of one’s home. If my family were to be everybody, I could help one person and I would help everyone. Helping everyone would be possible by helping my family. I know this sounds really cliche and told, but this is how I feel. Call me a dreamer, but take a look into my fantasy and relay it to your own experience. What are the best diner’s in town? The one’s that cook homemade food. Where are the best parties held? At someone’s house (like the Hugh Hefner’s mansion).

So let me say that it feels good to know my word. Life really is this magical thing that is happening to us all when we take off our serious glasses and look at the world with curious eyes.