How I Carry On

-
Sometimes, I’m in a court. There’s the jury who barely knows me. Standing in the witness box, I can see their cold judging looks. That’s when I feel like it’s me against the whole world.

Sometimes, I’m on the running track. I am running with everything I have. My legs are burning. My lungs are ready to burst. Ahead of me, I can see those people. Those people with their stronger legs; they run so much faster than me. That’s when I feel like giving up because I doubt I will ever be able to catch them up.

Sometimes, I’m in the big city. It’s so easy to get lost in the busy streets and the never-ending flow of traffic. I’m just another nameless face in the crowd. That’s when I feel so small and insignificant.

Such times, I stand alone on my own and I place my hand on my heart. That’s when I feel my dreams, my hopes, my love, all beating away quietly.

And that’s when I find that courage to carry on, despite the fears, the insecurities and the doubts.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Day out at Lake Shidaka

-
Image
What's the one thing the Japanese love to do when spring comes? The answer is "hanami" or "flower viewing". Crowds of people flock to parks or other famous sightseeing places to enjoy the colorful flowers in full bloom. But it's the sakura that steals the show. This is my first "hanami". We didn't have that kind of thing back at home. So, I didn't really get what all this hype was about watching those flower blossoms. I mean, how beautiful can they be? As it turned out, very beautiful indeed. Breathtakingly so. I love spring in Japan. It's a very nice change from the cold drab winter days. The sakura blossoms don't last long. So before they all fall to the ground, I had to go see them. (And upload photos on facebook and instagram. :D) So, last weekend, I went to a place called Lake Shidaka. It's a camping site. When the lake came into view, it was like I had stepped straight into a postcard. It was that beautiful. Now, ...
Read more

Cloud Soup

-
I heard about the soup made of clouds one fine afternoon over Zoom. I imagined myself drinking it And floating out of my room. Tell me how this soup is made; What kind and how many clouds will I need? Do I look for small wispy clouds or large fluffy ones that look like sheep? Let me just step out to my balcony And pluck the clouds from the sky. Oh dear, I hope I don’t need onions. When the weather is so nice, I don’t want to cry. You said it’s your favorite soup And I would love to make it for you If only we didn’t have to social distance But hopefully, things get better in June. *** AN: A while ago, a friend of mine shared that she was making a simple dish made of eggs for dinner and she called it “Cloud Soup”. I loved the name and it reminded me of a poem from my high school English text book called “Cloud Zoo” written by Norma Gillet. So, I wrote a poem similar in style to "Cloud Zoo" just for fun. 😅😁
Read more

Breathe

-
Image
  Breathe in. When the trees and the stones start to look the same, remember that it is an illusion. And listen, the wind never carries the same message twice. Breathe out. Breathe in. Time moves slowly in the woods. I forget why I was in a hurry to get somewhere and to be someone. Breathe out. Breathe in. The woods are less scary than the world outside. Here, I can stop and think and feel. Here, I can accept that change and death are a natural part of life. Breathe out. Breathe in. Sometimes, the best way to climb a mountain is 50 steps at a time. Sometimes, the best way to see the forest is to stop often and look at the trees. Sometimes, the best way to feel alive is to notice the moment your breath becomes air. Breathe out. @ Mt. Nijyo, Nara
Read more