The first day of school...

On the first day of school
I felt like a fool.

The doors were so tall,
The halls were so long
I could not move, only hesitate, stall.
I took a deep breath, and tried to be strong.

I took a timid step forward.
My eyes down, head lowered,
Hands clasped around my pack straps.
But the overwhelming crowd could only make me gap.

My heart starts beating fast
Where was my class? I can't be last!

Warm hands grasp my cold ones,
A gentle voice whispers, dissolving my fear;
"Come my sweet child, your time here is done,
I think you're with me, let's dry away those tears".

I'm led to a classroom
Bright, colourful and spacious.
Dozens of young faces, their smiles aimed-to whom?
Realization that it's for me leaves me speechless and gracious.

I look up to familiar books on the shelf
The walls seem less tall
And I think to myself,
School's not so bad after all!

Nowhere Like Home

Sitting by the old window pane
Staring out the glass
Watching raindrops- plitter platter
Feeling down
Nothing around

   When can I get out?

Leaving home, saying good-bye
Excitement bursting
I'm finally free

New things experienced
Adventures in "the wild"
Never been this happy
But all good things come to an end

Misery seeping
Forlorn feelings
Broken hearts
Getting torn apart
                          I cry out
                    But nobody hears

I wander east
                    to west
From south
                  to north
Woe is me
                I'm still lost

Where can I go?
                         What do I have left?

"Home", my heart whispers
                     "Is where you'll find rest"


With a crippled soul, shattered
And hopeless spirit battered
  The prodigal child returns

Back to that old window pane
In front of the glass
Where the raindrops drum
                       to the beat of my heart:
                                                 HOME IS BEST

The Oldest Person I know

My first real home in Canada was a quiet apartment building nestled in the centre of Richmond. Richmond, at that time was a somewhat Caucasian dominant place, and I remember being the only Asian family living in our building. This was a difficult situation, especially for a new immigrant family fresh off the plane. Our lives proved to be harder once we met our neighbours. I remember the grouchy, old “cat lady” who lived across from us and tried to use every single opportunity to report us to the manager. My constant tantrums made the perfect complaint. Our rocky relationship became strained to the point that we were in danger of being kicked out. The first few months in our new home were spent miserably and inconspicuously. All our hopes of a wonderful new life in this promising country disappeared. That is until we met a very special person that completely turned our lives around.

My mom and I were up early that one day and we decided to do the laundry. Washing was done in a laundry room that everyone in the building shared. We were quietly walking down to the basement careful to not make too much noise, when we heard the clearest and happiest laugh ever. The sound made you feel warm all over and had a contagious effect where you just had to smile after hearing it. We hastily hurried down the stairs to see where the sound was coming from. When we swung open the door, we were in for a big shock. The source of the beautiful sound was from an old, fragile lady. Her legs and all ten fingers were distorted and she wore a cast around her neck. Her back was hunched and her face was filled with wrinkles. However, when she smiled, her whole face lit up and she seemed like the most living and youthful person on Earth. We started a conversation in which we learned that we lived in the same hall. She was not at all like our other neighbours and it felt good to be finally respected in such a cold and unwelcoming environment. When the washing was done, my mom carried her laundry and I helped her up the stairs. When we got to her door, she invited us to come in. Little did we know then, but this would be the first step to a beautiful friendship.

When we walked into her unit, our reaction was that of utter dismay. Every single surface sparkled and shone and everything was neat and orderly. I was especially drawn to the bookshelf by the doorway. There were at least ten volumes of every kind of encyclopedia. Their spines were frayed, evidence of frequent use and handling. There was a smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with cinnamon and apricots. Plants and flowers of every kind were lined up in an attractive pattern across her balcony. She warmly ushered us into her bright and sunny kitchen where she poured us a cup of tea. While we sipped our drinks, we started to learn more about each other. We learned that she had a bad case of arthritis and was almost always in pain. She had difficulty walking and sometimes even sleeping.  This was not expected, since she seemed like such a joyful person. Her four children, which should have brought her joy, brought instead more pain and heartbreak. Her youngest and only son had graduated from a prestigious university, only to have died eight months later under the influence of drugs. Because of this incident, her eldest daughter broke all relations with her and disappeared without a trace. Her youngest daughter was diagnosed with diabetes and passed away after several failed marriages. Her last daughter became an alcohol addict and constantly relied on her for support. When we left that day, we were filled with admiration-a person with so many regrets and afflictions could still manage to live life so fully and jubilantly. 

After that day, my mom and I visited her whenever we were free. After every visit, we would take in something new. She once told us that her life was a lot like a salmon’s; she would foolishly attempt again and again to achieve a seemingly impossible goal and would not stop until she finished it to the end. This determination was what made her so inspiring. She was always cheerful and optimistic even when she was in a lot of pain. Wherever she went, she would bring happiness with her and I would always feel energized after being with her. Although physically she might be the oldest and weakest person I know, spiritually and mentally, she is the youngest and strongest person I will ever meet.

Physical or Sedentary?

       This question is one that I ask myself all the time. The reason for such repetition is because the answer I get every time is different. Some days I find myself curled up on the couch, isolated from the busy world,  and other days I find myself running all over the place. Thus, the conclusion I have come up with is that I need a little bit of both. Or can you say the best of both worlds?

I'm only using this pic because its pretty... nvr got why ppl ran on beaches... you only get sand in your shoes...

Sometimes when my brain is in the dumps, the only way I can refreshen up is by exercising. A run in the woods or a dip in the pool can freshen my reflexes in an instant. I'm not sure how exercise helps, but for some reason my brain feels rejuvenated once my heart starts pumping and my breathing becomes more frequent.  

hohum~ nothing like bottled water and apples after an exhausting workout ~

      Other times, all my exhausted brain wants to do is to just stop and let everything go. Occasionally this could be solved by exercise, but mostly a peaceful nap or a quiet
time by the window would be the best solution.

i would totally get this couch!!! if only it came equipped with food and electronics :((                                                                                   -le sigh-

I suppose being a bit of both has its advantages. Its a lot like having two modes that can switch back and forth. When the weather decides to be nice- BAM physical mode. The weather gets pissed off and starts spazzing- BOOM sedentary mode. Now I know I should be answering the question which is whether I am physical or sedentary, but since I can't decide, I'll just say I'm a phydentary person. :)) (yes its cheesy, but who knows- it might appear in the dictionary one day :P)