It's that time of the year when I look through my journals and planners and review my collected thoughts. I've been playing around with the idea of putting out a book for so long that in my head I already did it. When I was in grade school I remember looking up love poems on google. I stumbled upon a website taking submissions for a poetry book and I wrote my 11 year old perception on love.
"it's not how much you take but how much you give, it's not something you make but something you live.." something something I have no idea it was years ago on our first computer, e-machine.
It made sense to me! I received an email a few weeks later that it was going to be included and featured in some magazine. I even had an alter ego. I definitely didn't think it was real though. Remember how people would post their public cries on there in the away messages? I remember having a collection of short poems ready to go for every angsty teenage emotion paired with a song and *action word to signify just how much I was really feeling. I've always been into blogging and writing, since Xanga days. I wish I could track down that heal of an html mess. Lately I've been thinking about what it would be for me to really publish something. I have my physical boom with "KMPS" engraved on it from my 25th birthday given to me by Nene and Tay. I'm still thinking about publishing that. Or cause I want to save the trees, dropping a website of all my writings and doodles in one place.. I'm contemplating on this project heavy.
Yesterday Ed and I left the house at 6:30am and drove to Lake Tahoe. Our first plan was to kayak. Great idea. I learned how to row a small wooden boat in the Philippines before I learned how to drive. I also learned how to steer and boat before I got behind the wheel of a car. So me and water have this relationship. Intimate and full of history. She was my first teacher. I was angry yesterday morning. I don't know why, something stemming from childhood I'm sure. I could feel my inner child yelling "no one is listening!" and so for a moment on the water I requested we stop. And so I listened to my heartbeat and I slowed down my breath and did all the things that you do to calm anxiety and I realized how much beauty was around me. I felt a sudden calm, and heard a small but powerful voice say "it's time to write this story" So I began to open up to Ed about my plan. I've never been in a space with someone, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually the way that I am with Ed. And I want to celebrate that. But I also want to honor all that I've learned in the process. I believe I've been holding on to these journals for a reason. The entries, 2-3 lines sometimes full on poems or rantings are like placeholders for moments I had a hard time letting go of. I'll go back on a day in the journal just to read how I was feeling that day. Kinda like how Facebook memories do this without our consent, but these words are much more personal. I'm realizing now how important this is for me to process my emotional well being in this way. This journey of relationship to self, at least for this chapter seems to have come full circle. I have never loved myself with this much depth before. Learning to be more like water every day.
“That soft pink matter
Cotton candy, Majin Buu”
How many people do you know who love their body? Who don’t shame themselves for their sun kissed shoulders. Who enjoy the sun and not complain? Who take care of themselves first?
It’s all a process and I hope you love on you extra extra extruuhhhh today.
Loving my body through every stage
Every form it takes
reclaiming the words on my body from childhood. Tagalog is tricky cause direct translations are hard to pin point. Inflection and context are important. These words were never compliments, insults really - but I’m reclaiming them for myself.
Malikot, mischievous but also restless
Maarte, perfectionist but also artsy
Matapang, stubborn but also strong