Vulnerability

Posted on by redidyll

Why is it that the moment we choose to be vulnerable, we fall so hard so fast? We dive headfirst into the unknown because that’s what great literature are made of until we realize that we’re alone in the depths. We bare our bleeding patched up hearts and souls to the world just to prove that we are alive and breathing fire, and then, licking our battle wounds, we curl up in a ball at night hoping for a reprieve.

I know how it is, and I wish I can make it easier for us. But truth is, there is no other way to grow except to do it uncomfortably. As it does me, I know it takes a lot out of you to accept and live with that thought, it will be overwhelming and exhilarating, but I am still hopeful we can come out the other side scathed, but at peace with whoever we’ve become.

A Restless soul

Posted on by redidyll

I’d like to travel with gypsies
And maybe meet people who are brave enough to be who they are;
People who are not afraid to take a leap of faith;
People who dance in the rain, and sing off-key;
Maybe I’d get to meet someone who has infant eyes, and a gentleman’s demeanor.
Someone who sees the world as a discovery – full of wonderfully weird creatures.

On Intimacy.

Posted on by redidyll

Call me naive, but I find it hard to wrap my head around the thought that there are people who hate to be loved. I met a couple of people last night who tried their hardest to make me believe that they are against intimacy. Not the physical kind, the emotional kind. I was fascinated with how much they were trying to persuade me into believing that they were happy with not wanting emotional intimacy. And please notice that I was being particular in how I said, “happy with not wanting”, because that is different from saying, “happy with not having”. I noted how they subtly assured me that they can easily have it if they wanted it. I’m not sure if I am deducing this correctly, but all those assurances made me think that they were scared, and that they were in denial of being scared. And as they were trying to secure my acquiescence, I couldn’t help but be thankful that I am in a place right now where I can confidently admit to wanting emotional intimacy. This thought made me proud of myself because I can say that I am finally brave enough to give emotional intimacy a try.

Hiraeth = Longing

Posted on by redidyll

I learned a new word today. Hiraeth, according to Wikipedia, is a Welsh word that means ‘longing’. It’s a word that holds a deeper and more profound concept than ‘longing’ though. Hiraeth ultimately attempts to sum up in one word, the mixed feelings of yearning, nostalgia and wistfulness tinged with sadness over a lost entity.

I think I may have finally found the word I have been looking for to express the feeling I get whenever I think of my Dad; whenever I hear the song, “(How Much Is) That Doggie in the Window” and any Jackson 5 Christmas song; and whenever I smell the scent of Suave men’s hair cream.

My dad will always be the first person to introduce me to the concept of love. And I did not realize until recently that I never felt completely at home anywhere after he died. I recognize now that I did not only lose a father that day, I also lost a home. And like every person with no anchor to keep him/her grounded, I floated. I lived my life floating on the surface of each event. I did a lot of things – choir, theater, school organizations and church ministries. All the while unconsciously fooling people into thinking that I was completely engaged with my everyday life. I even fooled myself.

Let me be clear, I was, and still am, happy; but being happy is different from being at home. And now that I finally have enough space to consciously deal with my losses, I am finally figuring out how to make a home for myself. And this makes me happier.

That less explored topic.

Posted on by redidyll

There is a topic I’ve been avoiding to write about. But a friend told me that it’s important to start my healing consciously. Easier said than done; but here goes.

Let me start by telling you about my family. I come from a traditional Chinese household. What does that mean you might ask? It means learning how to be stingy in all ways possible. Being stingy with money; being stingy with your emotions; being stingy with your opinions. I was never good at being stingy. I was born opinionated. And I doled it out generously. I find myself being envious of my siblings because of their natural inclination to be “Chinese”. They didn’t need to be taught how to control their impulses like I did. And in many ways I was taught how to.

I used to have a very loud laugh, the kind that you’ll hear from the end of a corridor. My mother used to scold me whenever I laugh, saying that my laugh was offensive because it wasn’t lady-like. So I learned to cover my mouth whenever I laugh. Now, it has become a habit for me to apologize whenever I forget to control the volume of my laughter.

My faith in justice has always driven my sense of morality. As you can imagine, this made it hard for me to accept things that seem unfair, or things that are not justified. My family never understood that about me. My words and actions just always seemed foreign and rebellious to them. I grew up feeling foreign. I just somehow knew that that place was not where I belonged. And now that I am finally free, I find myself wondering where I should head to. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. I like that, now, I get to explore, and decide where I belong. It’s exhilarating, and it’s scary, but I trust that it’ll be worth it.

On being rational

Posted on by redidyll

Right now, I want a rational psyche.

Before I proceed to expound on why I feel the need to justify this irrational want to be rational, let me appease those who find people who strive to be different or special to be distasteful or pretentious (or both) – It is not my aim to separate myself from the norm. In fact, I’m sure that almost everyone had the thought of wanting to be rational more than once. I’m just choosing to voice it out. I only hope to be able to represent us well.

Most of the time, I want to be rational because it makes it easy to cope with life events. When I am able to let my rational mind take over fully, I’m guessing ‘proper’ behavioral reactions can come to me instinctively. Being indifferent can become second nature, and indifference leads to lesser effects of negative implications. In a nutshell, life is simple. Maybe some people believe that simplicity is overrated, but I don’t. At least, not right now. Simplicity, for me, offers itself as a refuge. It calms me in the same way that it excites me. It is a novel thought for me to be simple. Yes, you read right. I am not simple, and in the same way as people who like complications, I will not apologize for my wanting a simple psyche.

Lunar escape

Posted on by redidyll

I imagine walking on the moon’s surface, my feet barely touching the ground as I make my way towards nowhere. Now, anyone who reads this will figure that I am no scientist. My thoughts are too much attuned to the rhythm of my heartbeat, and to the wonderment of tasting the atmosphere around such conundrum. As my extremities feel the air swirling around me, an orb in the middle of the blackness catches my eyes. I can almost hear the voice of mankind. I cannot help but ponder how the voice no longer ignites anxiety, and while that is seemingly a good thing, nor does it breed joy.

On Nudity.

Posted on by redidyll

To the tiniest of moles on a woman’s body, and to the deepest of scars of a man’s; these details contribute to characters.

Why do we go out of our way to hide our characters from each other? Why is standing clothed acceptable, and standing nude a private affair? My first thoughts are: Exposure means vulnerability; and sincerity births judgment. Even as I write this, I feel unsettled. As if writing about the concept of nudity makes me somewhat of a rogue. My objective in writing about this is not to impress anything upon anyone, but merely to wonder. To wonder what it might be like if nudity became mundane.

Romanticism and Homeostasis.

Posted on by redidyll

This day marks the affirmation of my tendencies for romanticism; such that I find my unconscious battling my conscious for the spotlight. The monotony of the everyday has helped repress the voice who shouts, “My soul has caught fire!”. Notice how I say ‘repress’? This is because society dictates norms on form, style, technique, behavior and even on the acceptable abnormal.

I have fallen into a rhythm; a routine. Where I immerse myself in my everyday season, and when the unconscious cannot be silenced a day longer, I then allow myself to go into my romantic season. My thoughts today, as with most passion-driven beings’, are eager for homeostasis.