Music and Lyrics

I watched a movie today, not the best of the typical Hugh Grant's bumbling-Britishman romantic comedies, but there was something Drew said that was quite insightful...

The gist of it is, Drew, a failed-writer accidentally becoming a songwriter, contradicts Hugh, a failed 80's has-been musician. She believes that music is like the first impression, the physical, the attraction, connection...the sex...whereas Lyrics are like what is underneath that person...the story about them, their character, the history.

"When put together, that's when it is magic."

I have to agree with Drew.

When listening to music, one must pay attention to the lyrics. Otherwise, it is just noise...a facade of the real person. One will never get to know what is really underneath. To listen to the lyrics, really listen, and understand them, while enjoying the music...That is how one would ever get to know another...listen to their words, while the melody serves as the accompaniment in the background. Both are equally important, but only when you are willing to see them as one, that they are powerful.

Out of the element

A little piece of tropical heaven.



I spent the past 2 weeks in Maui and Hawaii. It was Tyler and my first vacation together, at the end of which was probably either going to define further where we are to be with our relationship: Do not go beyond this point, or Love in all its serious glory.

We mixed both our interests in the planning: camping for the first week in Maui, private condo rental for the second in Hawaii (big island). I am not a big fan of roughing it, so to speak, however, can and have survived my annual girls camping trips in the past. I really liked this guy, and for the first time, really didn't mind the idea at all. I was more looking forward towards spending time together and getting to know each other even better. After all, we had only seen each other 4 other times prior to this, albeit the last time was for a whole week straight. Such is the routine of a long distance dating life.

What neither of us expected, however, is what happens when we are taken out of our preferences, and forced to adjust to a situation and having another person to spend it with.

When taken out of our daily routine, how well do we adjust to our own juxtaposed to another's?



We found out the hard way that having to find things to do from 8 in the morning until 10 at night every day for a week took too much toll out of both of us. The story goes like this: We got up, left the campsite, determined which area of the island we wanted to get breakfast, then visit and any activity we would want to do there. This sounded fine in theory, except when thrown into it, it was a bit of a nightmare. I love to spend my morning vacations and weekends by starting slow, even though I am a morning person and start my day early regardless where I am. I sit and read, and relax. Of course this would not be the case for a type of vacation where you would need to sightsee everyday, such as a European tour vacation where you are there only for a few days in each city. Tyler is a big hyperactive kid. He constantly needs things to do, and does not like to just sit on a beach for hours and read. Firstly, he is very careful about the sun, definitely the wiser of the both of us. Secondly, he gets bored and easily distracted. This did not make a good combination to start the vacation. Taken out of my element, I was not as attentive and aware of things as I normally would have been. I didn't pay attention as well, as I wasn't giving myself the attention I usually would give myself first. I was afraid if I didn't spend time to do things he enjoyed, he would be upset, yet I was also slowly becoming my stubborn-side, unhappy doing things that were not necessarily my choice.

Funny thing was, I didn't know whether I was being selfish, or too accommodating. When you have to start showing your true self, and not just do things you don't want to do for the sake of another's, there is a fine line where you actually want to try new things and confusing that want with the fear of losing someone's attention.





In the end of it all, our second week more than made up for the first. I got up early in the morning and let Ty sleep. I went for a run, a dip in the pool, then read on our patio overlooking the golf course before he got up to make us breakfast so that we could start our day of just sightseeing, swimming, relaxing, with no pressure, as we had a home to come home to at anytime of the day.

Quiet Thoughts

I stand here
awaiting,
listening, feeling

I smile,
when I see yours, my sweet
My sweet,
can you hear mine beat against yours?

Scared am I, the possibilities
Truth be told,
something of sorts

What is it, I ask
You cannot answer
It is something only together,
we would one day discover

Be there will I be, through struggles and laughter
As long as again we will be
dancing under the streetlights

Talk to me, show me
What it is you are afraid of
I hear, right here
I echo your quiet thoughts

I reach out
touching,
thinking, embracing

What is mine, if not yours,
I ask you to hold

When all is settled and down

I had had the pleasure of going to 9 different weddings last year. Yes, you read correctly.

2 decades-old friends; 1 destination on white sands; 1 that made everyone cry; 1 of old family friends where I tried to avoid all my parents' friends' inquiries on "when is your turn?"; 1 classic one that went until 7am; 1 we had been waiting for 8 years; 1 in a beautiful park overlooking the city; 1 colleague where I didn't really know anyone.

Aside from weddings, showers, and the all-fun hen parties, all these weddings signified something more than just a row of gifts and wedding cakes. Or one too many champagne.

I knew then as I know now, that the storks will be flying by anytime now.

Sure enough, recently I received news of 2 friends who are expecting. A few more are trying. All this baby talk is making me dizzy. Spinning conversations on love, relationships, and life. R and A had it planned. It happened a little earlier than expected, but such is life. They are both excited at the prospect of the upcoming bundle of joy, and so am I for them. B broke the news to me last night. Of all my male friends, he is definitely the last I would ever expect to have one. It was an accident. They are going to try and make it work.

I'm not in love with you, he had told her. That was what he could utter right before he made the decision to move in with her.

She needs me to be there for her, at least for a while. He is nuts, I thought.

How can you want to be with someone you don't love? Then again, this works for some people.

At first I was flabbergasted at the idea that it happened to the one guy who seemed the least responsible and settled-down as the rest of the lot. What do you expect out of a twenty-something guy, still completing his graduate studies, working full time, with many aspirations and possibilities? I was disappointed for him.

Then I understood. Things happen for a reason. This is going to teach him something; he will be a great father; his life will be turned upside down. He will have to grow up. I was proud of him and excited about the prospect of whom he will become.

It hit me that I am still a novice at this Blahblahblah called relationship and love; how different each one is for everyone; what they mean individually and collectively. I yearn to understand.

My head is spinning upon the realization that although I would want something more for myself, you cannot plan everything in your future. Baby talks aside, I am instantly reminded of something my favourite TV character once said:

Some people are settling, some are settling down, but some of us simply refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies

I may not know what my future holds. But this, I know for certain.

A Student of Sorts

When do I feel whole? When do I experience bliss in its true, timeless definition?

Always when I define answers with questions, when I share myself with others, and the harmony of the elements: the magnificent rising of the sun, the quiet sound of falling snowflakes, the reverberating beat of crashing waves, the tranquility of soft breeze brushing against your skin, and the majestic layers of colours of a sunset painting the sky.

My friends would describe me as a thinker and an inquirer. A perpetual learner of sorts, with a propensity to ask - no answer is ever satisfactory, until the questions can stop. You say black, I see the small specks of light coming through. You see white, I ask "where did all the colours go?" You think 'run as fast as you can', I say "slow down!" Why rush through this fleeting moment called life like it is a five-second obstacle to get you to the next best thing?

Five seconds.

The amount of time it takes for your heart to melt at the sight of a puppy dog's eyes. The amount of time it takes for your hand to feel warm inside his. The amount of time it takes for your eyes to adjust in the dark just in time to catch his loving gaze.

I enjoy so much and can't seem to get enough. I am cursed with compassion, affection, and a giving nature. I am blessed with sensitivity, curiosity, and complexity. I have yet to find everlasting peace; a sense of unrestrained and continual-searching for growth, meaningful and uprejudiced understanding, the fill to an insatiable urge for teaching, learning, embracing.

I am a student of life and all that it has to offer: an eternal apprentice of love and its virtues, of people and their relationships within, of myself with all of its imperfections.

I pride myself in being a seeker in an endless pursuit of knowledge.

In what, you ask?
Anything, everything, and sometimes nothing at all, as long as it brings me closer to who I am and completes whom I will become.

And why, you ask?
Because there are no answers, only more questions that can bring you back.

To a simple thing called love.

The joyous cries of delight of a child, the warm touch of a friend's heart, the butterflies in your stomach when you see his face.

I forever stand in awe, in front of life.

Absence Makes the Heart

I turned the key to my apartment; a task so simple as I had done a million times before, almost robotically, expecting the same thing I see each day I come home from a full day of work. Though never was there ever music playing or human chattering sound greeting my arrival, such is a life of a single gal, today felt it was going to be different somehow.

I asked myself: Did I expect that it would be, or was it truly out of the ordinary?

I placed the keys at their usual place, dropped my bag onto the familiar foyer bench, kicked off my ballet flats carelessly in my usual flair, and reluctantly walked into the living room. Stillness screamed all around me. Not the kind of silence into which I had come to assume everyday, this time its presence was palpable. I felt it not only in my surroundings, in everything I touched, but also within.

He was only here for just over a week, a mere short time in a year-long journey of me on my own to have my routines down almost like second nature. How did he affect them so, shake them up like one of those snowy-globes my parents had, until you couldn't see what was inside but the whites coming down in a blur of giant flakes? And even so, it still put a smile onto your face, and dared you to shake it up all over again just so you could see it one more time. How did I come to anticipate seeing his smile, sensing his warmth, and the safety of his embrace?

I saw it and I felt it as he came and he went.

And so the story goes. It will only repeat itself, surely and steadily, and until then, my impatient heart awaits.

All is Love in Play and War

Asleep she is, peacefully.

Alert she is, of her surrounding.

Insatiable she is, for love

I moved gingerly so not to wake the two bodies lying still on the ground. I smiled quietly as if afraid they would notice. My heard settled in its place, sense of peace washed over me.

What is it about this image, I wondered, that made things seem easier, problems smaller, choices

immaterial, and life...more blissful?

As each day goes by, each simple move serves as a reminder on what is truly important.

Days filled with squirrel-chases, plays with friends, drinks from fresh or not-so-fresh streams, hikes on the North Shore trails, and if I happen to pretend not to notice, a few hours of snoozing on the couch.

Head turned to the side, tail between the hind legs, and body slowly moving to the Timeout corner. She sheepishly looks up at the wagging finger and a word sounding familiar, yet so far: "Bad Girl". I turn a corner and come back. There she is, staring back at me, as if nothing has happened.

Please, pretty please, I love you. Can I now have my dinner and a walk?

Please, pretty please, I adore you. Can we now sit back and relax?

I look into those light eyes, filled with exuberance and lightness of being. I shall forgive, as you have forgot.

The image of two, as one. I accept you, and respect you, as you have mine.

Awake he is, smiling

Attentive he is, of my presence

Lucky I am, in love