Please choose the statement you feel is most applicable to you:

The year is 1993, which means I was 4, my brother was 2 and she was pregnant with my second brother. It was a typical day in paradise. We were eating one of her delicious creations she was serenading us by singing as she usually does when we’re alone with her and my brother and I were playing quietly in the corner as we waited. These moments of peace with the ones I was most grateful for because dad wasn’t home. Dad scared all of us. He was never nice for very long and lost his temper often. I remember this day quite vividly my mother was wearing a green dress I’m cooking on the stove top from a distance due to her being eight months pregnant. I remember wondering if the baby was hot being so close to the oven. This moment of serenity was quickly disturbed by slam of an opening door. Everyone tensed-up, even my two-year-old baby brother. I grabbed him by the hand and carried him to the bedroom where he pretended to sleep in hopes that he would have some compassion for my mom and not yell too loud like he did once.

When reality is spoken of, most likely the first thing thought of is what is “real” to someone. In this moment, but also beyond that. What does one hold dear to them? If you

The thing about joy is it comes in waves, like everything . The same way awful things don't last forever, neither do the good things. It's all a series of ebbs and flows and waves that we learn to ride better with time. Finding things that bring you joy help to prolong those good moments. They also help you to appreciate the good moments that much more, because we know they're fleeting and it's all a part of this weird human experience we've been chosen to endure.

Balance is the soil for happiness. Wisdom | Hence, be selective with your attention and time. Keep in mind, unbalanced interactions usually develops into unhappiness. Example, one person is mentally advance and the other one still needs to learn the meaning of responsibility etc. To create balance, strive to be friendly as much as possible. Simply, because order is restored through compassion. Yet, draw the line at hi and good day.

Are these gloomy times?

Hi. How are you? I am great! I am 44 years old. When I reached 40, there was a sense of achievement. Like reaching a really great part in the hill. An awesome view. No, it is not from the top. But a cool spot, like the half way point. Really high but not the peak. I have stopped to look around my life and say. “The view is pretty good from here.” I celebrated 40. I had made it. Made it to 40! I have two girls, several cats and a foster dog. (I think I buy a cat to fill that space of ‘I have so much love to give AND there is so much abandonment out there.”) Sitting, watching television and eating chocolates is not so satisfying. Well, it is. I love television, really...BUT I have a desire to help the furry needy. Hmmm my legs are half-shaved and I am thinking these furry friends need some of that love. I have shifted from self-indulgence to “giving”, and “sharing”. It is an age thing.

I used to work gigs for income. There was a very long period of time when I wasn't getting any work at all. Money was tight. I would feel irritated anytime I had to go out and buy food. My reputation got ugly. I thought none of my friends liked me anymore. I created so much pain, hurt, frustration, self-pity anytime I went out. So I just couldn't even go out anymore. I had given up on my goals, I was binge eating tons of food. I was just watching Netflix to distract myself from the pain. I goddamn self quarantined myself months before this all happen. 

There are three pieces of "media" that make me happy to view. I am a very solitary person so this current time of quarantine doesn't really change my ways or lifestyle very much. For the most part, I spend my days alone in my home writing or surfing the internet or thinking of some artistic, creative project to enjoy myself with like playing the piano, sewing a n0-sew skirt, or sketching a drawing of something in my mind. These activities may seem insignificant. They are not going to pay my bills or buy me a new car. They won't cure my illnesses or free me from my debts. They probably even won't get noticed or liked by anyone unless I give them as a gift to someone. I do it anyway, because it gives me joy and peace in life. I need joy and peace. They are so very important to me as I near my 49th birthday and realize that my glory days and my youth is really over. I have to look at myself and my life and see what I've done to myself. It's not always a pretty picture to me. Sometimes I'm quite ashamed of myself. I've made many mistakes. I also stood up for people and tried to stand up for "what's right" whatever that means. I am not the "winner" in life. I didn't end up with the big house and a bunch of cool toys to impress the rich neighbors. I'm just lucky to be alive, truth be told. Still, I have a few things that warm my heart being in my possession, and some of them are connected to media: a photograph of me in my wedding dress, a video of my son, and the website Pinterest. These three bits of media bring me joy and hope and comfort when I'm lonely and lost and really not sure who I am or what to do anymore. Have you ever felt that way? Wondering why you woke up this morning? If you haven't, consider yourself blessed. If you have, then you know how hard it is to face the day when you wake up feeling that way. The question of just being seems to haunt you through the whole day. When that happens, I like to watch one of my son's videos and remember that he loves me, and I love him, and even though I wasn't a very good mother, I did the best I could, and just knowing that he turned out to be a beautiful, strong, and loving young man means that just by bringing him into this world, just by creating one life, I did at least one thing that mattered.

Sitting in front of an orchid, a constellation of flowers, bushes, and a couple of trees that sit on the far left and right extremities, centering the focus, I feel pure. Pure of the stress, responsability, and of myself. I feel as if I'm lost in a meditative abyss, sinking into my conscience. I can feel the wind brush my loose hair. I can feel it slither through my arms and legs, run up my back, and caress my feet. It seeps between the crevices of my teeth as I breath in. I look up at the sky on this grey, gloomy day. At a close inspection one can see the sun's efforts to penetrate the heavy clouds that blind its vision. But the clouds are unwavery. A sea of mist runs through the hill side. The gut of its mass sits in the valleys, dispersed. I look to the north, where the hills form the horizon, where the clouds begin to funnel right at the center, forming a vignette-like effect. A heavy contrast between what is green and what is gray. What’s colors are full of life, and what’s colors are depressive.

I wanted to write this update much sooner, and I kept putting it off for reasons I haven’t yet figured out. The week following the publication of “It’s All Yellow,” life started to taste really sweet really quickly, and every time I tried to write something about all of the changes that were happening in my life, I couldn’t get myself to do it. I think I felt like I was bragging, or, I was listening to the very real, and terrifyingly consistent, subconscious fear I have that if I get too excited about the good things happening in my life they will ultimately either be taken away from me, or something bad will happen to balance it all back out. So, here we are, a few weeks later, with a 2nd update about all of the good things that happened that week, and all of the seemingly bad things that happened this week, that I’m telling myself is not the universe’s balancing act attacking my life (even though it really feels like it).