Thursday, February 20, 2014

You Are Free Now

News of your passing away pushed the remnants of sleep away from my foggy brain, Thursday morning. You were 28.

I don't claim to know you well but I knew part of the teenage girl you once were. Remember when our class teacher chose the two of us to be seated on either side of Leon because she thought we'd be a civilizing influence on him? I remembered being in awe of you because you were such an awesome kid - smart, beautiful and well-mannered. Your notebooks were always complete, your handwriting so neat. Your bob was always so neatly combed and your uniform so pristine. I never saw you sweating buckets even when answering complex trigonometry problems.

We've had no reason to be in touch with each other all these years but your passing has rendered a part of my heart empty. I know I will forever mourn that loss. I wish I knew more of your story and how valiantly you fought your illness. I wish I knew the woman you've become. But I'm content with just knowing you, the bubbly girl you were. I'll tuck your guileless smiles somewhere in my memories.

Goodbye, Haya. Thank you for your story.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Slow Down, Child, Because It's Foolhardy












Dress and bag: vintage | shoes: Fashion 71.net | headwrap: local store

Virtually every minute of my weekdays is devoted to my work and my personal project. There's very little of everything else unless I actually manage to finish before my deadline. I love what I'm doing so much that I'm willing to be enslaved by the process of earning money. I don't even have recognition of time anymore once I start doing my personal project (which is now starting to earn me some considerable passive income). What little break time I have in the afternoon is devoted to playing with my nephew. 

But even though I put so much effort on my career to the point of honing blisters on my butt (an exaggeration) and getting THIS close to having Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (not so exaggerated), I still feel like I'm being lax and unproductive. Why? Why does this feeling of not doing enough keep on creeping in? 

I'm not even a perfectionist. Not to myself and certainly not in my expectations of anyone. I'm competitive but not to a fault because I'm often just in competition with myself. Still, I occasionally get the feeling that I'm getting left behind, I'm missing out on things that I should be doing at this age. 

I think it's mostly because I have no standards to live up to, having no physical boss to answer to and no workmates to be my barometer. I work alone. I fail alone. I learn alone. It's a freelancer thing.

I can blame this nagging feeling partly on being 28 - that age when you are teetering at the ripe age of 30 and wondering if you're exactly where you've envisioned yourself to be a decade ago. And if the bar you've set doesn't exactly match your current reality, it eats you up and festers your insides so you become incessantly restless, propelling yourself forward with so much force, you make everyone eat dust in your wake. 

So this weekend is my weekend to deliberate my pace and remind myself that there's no fire. That to slow down a bit and let my meat suit catch up with my brain is a normal and acceptable thing. And one day, when I'm running myself ragged again, I'll read this post and be chided for being too single-minded. But at the same time, this will serve as my figurative pat on the back for living and doing my passions.

 

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