Friday, December 26, 2014

Art in Undying Form

This blog might as well be titled "Visions, Experiences, & Practice." That's basically what I aim to share through these writings. My account of information through the first person, and sometimes in the past, but I will try not to.

I guess you could expect this to be a memoir. The last time I wrote in a live journal, I wrote about travel escapades in Hong Kong. Each post was a delicately described adventure, sharpening my writing skills, as well as painting a high defined picture of my silly thoughts and experiences. I was 19 at the time of that blog. When I go back and read it, I want to change it. Isn't that crazy? Our mind evolves as our knowledge and exposure does. Sometimes I want to erase some very silly lines in the blog, because I know better now. Even more so, I don't. Because that's what this is all about.

This time, I will be pulling stories, truths, recipes, sequences, techniques to share about my journey here at home. I am running a yoga studio business in Portland, OR and my days are very short of being boring. So before I begin sharing my tales from the last 6 months to current, I will open the intention of this Live Writing Journal with this:

This journal is dedicated to every thought, dream, word, and reflection that I have to share with myself and possibly others. Each line and page, I vow to fill with truth of that moment, and no other to change it. I vow to preserve that creativity by writing whatever, whenever and never by judging myself through words.

There is nothing that cannot be spoken to be freed to that which is silenced to the murmurs of the eternal heart. I practice transparency in ways I weave words together.

I realize I set a standard for the 'good' stories that can make it into this journal.

I often play the role of deciding what goes into the story of my life or not.

It's not my place to decide, however it is my will to write, to spill thoughts onto a page and out of my head. A space to say whatever? Nonsense is a perfect storm that rolls in and can be disturbing and beautiful. First, rumbling and chaotic, then cooling and liberating. The smell of the earth after lighting and rain, with scribbling on one page, sincere script on another. And the sharp edges of guilt and shame racing down the sides of the margins.

The words through penned fingers are intoxicating yet purifying. 

To surrender the desire for proper writing is to lend out the soul,
A stream of consciousness art, in undying form.

Saturday, November 8, 2014

The one that sings to me

Hold my deep dark secrets, and let this be the place where I can dump some of the thoughts that aren't ready to be unveiled yet.

So, I'm slowly embracing the business world, but I'm also slightly holding back. I seem to find apprehension as an apparent quality of my universe, where I'm often telling myself that I'm just not prepared enough. I'm a noob. I'm on the fence. "I've never done this before!" therefore, I'm only allowed to observe and don't have the guts yet to liberate. Constantly, I proclaim my ineptitude due to sheltered experiences. But, the verb here is opening me wide, and I'm on the verge of a complete eruption. I can feel it brewing deep inside me. I just hope I'm not one of the many statistically visionaries that gets stuck on chasing a better ecstacy, never satisfied with just one kind of work. The ones that lose their minds from too many mind expansion parties, to truly decipher which one resonated to their purposeful soul. I want to be the one that finds the deep connection to the one that pulls the most on my heart strings. The one that sings to me. So here I am. I'm on the cliff and haven't taken the plunge. 

I suppose, I'm reaching out until something grabs a hold. But alas, don't wait too long. I'm reminded once again, that as soon as I jump off the shore and reach for the rope my hand slips and instead of swinging across the lagoon, I fall hard... into the murky waters, scathed and blasted by protruding rocks hammered by erosion and oxygen. And, I stop and I listen. The earth tells me she is fragile and naive, as I am just the same. That it is important to take the plunge, but also be patient for the experience to be natural rather than forced. There is a difference between punctuality and hastiness as well as laziness and ineptitude. To stop and take a breath amidst the many paths to cross, it is easier to see how they all will end up at the same end. That I will ultimately end up in the water and that maybe taken the low road will be better than assuming that splashing in with a rope swing, maybe a feat to tackle when I'm certain that my focus is intentional to accomplishing that goal, and nothing else.

Saturday, September 13, 2014


Start again
Start again
With a calm and quiet mind this time
Be alert, witnessing each breath,
Be tranquil, feeling every sensation
with equanimity

When a sensation feels it's way in,
Let it pass,
When a crazing of bliss bubbles,
Let it be,
When an aversion to discomfort grips,
Deeply exhale and move focus away from the pain.