in the dark, a pinhole / of light / is light / enough. @mayday-at-sunrise - Tumblr Blog

(writing is mine)

#personal #putting this here so i can find it again

10.29.22

i. Since coming back from our climbing trip down at Red River Gorge, living has felt different. It was weightier when I left. I felt weightier when I left. Granted, moving was stressful and then attending an out-of-town competition for fun the weekend after we moved was probably not the best idea, but I had also failed to realize how little life I was surrounded by until I spent that week away. For one week, I was surrounded by crisp fireworks, woody smells, and silence. Life was reduced to simple questions: what were we going to eat? Where were we going to climb? And I must say, it makes a big difference to be with people who also enjoyed life and thus were a joy to be around. I love my coworkers; I just hadn’t realized how much their severe burnout affected my energy levels too.

But I think the biggest change that I’ve felt in me since coming back is how much more I feel on the daily: restlessness, ache, quietness, contentment, lightness, curiosity, courage... Near the end of the trip, I also began to feel the desire to write again, something I haven’t felt in many years. While I still don’t have any poetry to show for it, I am happy to be here, before the empty page. I have missed this space.

ii. I took some time today to compile book notes on Christine Hyung-Oak Lee’s Tell Me Everything You Don’t Remember. Afterwards, I found myself asking, once again, “Why do I want to write?”

Memories fade, memories warp, memories die with you, too.

Though my stroke happened in the past, it is my world today. I know that everything is temporary and hard to hold, and even the permanent is only for this lifetime. That the poem Justin wrote for my newborn daughter on a piece of paper will eventually yellow and crisp. That all the secret family recipes of the world will disappear unless we share them. That all this value and love and honor and pain is useless until we share it with others, so that they too can hold it in their hands for a split second before the dust runs through their fingers.

I hear the echoes of T.S. Eliot’s line, “These fragments I have shored against my ruins.”

Prompted to speak, I said, "I'm a really private person." He listened with steady and unblinking eyes, eyes that at one point in his life faced psychological and physical torture in a Nigerian prison and behind which lay a brain that withstood and survived that torture and then thrived. He asked a question that was more than the question, in the softest of voices: "Then why are you a writer?" I closed my mouth. He said that a writer cannot be private like that. We must share our truths. We must be brave.

But what if I had no stories left to tell? There were only the ways the fog settled on top of the city this morning, the silence that Kentucky’s whispering trees left me with, and the emptiness I now feel because I’m missing the stars.

iii. And so I’m starting small. Perhaps this documenting might pave a way forward for me to find the words again.

iv. Songs rise from the ache, a light and dusty melody. A fog lingers. The grass reaches out to hold its dewy tears. This is how life begins.

me irl

MeIrl

meirl

soracities

Yet this silence is lined, I promise you, it is lined with tenderness. And if you doubt this, remember touching with your finger the inside of one of the nests the birds are building. Such softness and tenderness is the result of endless forays and skirmishes, and also of a cunning, learnt through the ages, of constructing only with what is pliable, resistant, and strong.

John Berger, From A to X: A Story in Letters (via soracities)

iavn

imonfuckingfire

HOW can you not show the picture of abby

deathcomes4u

My problem is less with the language and more with the possibility they are overfeeding their animals

sqoks-aesthetics

love the fact tumblr has no awareness for obese animals not being healthy at all and allowing an animal to be Like That is straight up abuse lmao

therestlessforest

*sigh* all you had to do was scroll up a little and all this rage could have been avoided

sepialunaris

Lmao imagine thinking an organization as reputable and pro conservation as Monterey Bay Aquarium would overfeed their animals

ctxrover

Lmao imagine thinking that all animals that have fat on them are obese, overweight and unhealthy rather than some animals just being like that i.e. walruses, seals, etc. because they have to be fat and have blubber because it protects them from the harsh and freezing environments that they live in.

butterflypeaflowertea

trees are very 🥺 because sometimes i’ll stand under the shade of a tree and look up at it and it’ll sway its branches about in the wind and i’m like oh my God i’m alive and YOU’RE alive. we are alive together and made up of the same starry stuff and standing right next to each other in this moment on this earth. do u feel it when i reach out and press my hand to your trunk? can you hear me? i think you’re so neat. and then the sunlight filters through its leaves just so and that lovely green color leaves me dazzled. it’s just very nice to be an alive thing next to a different sort of alive thing

2020 (34/100)

In the presence of a new year, I reflect on the past.

2020 was the year in which the decade of tilling by the hand and Spirit of God finally took root, producing the little sprout that is my soul right now. The year itself seemed to be an embodiment of that transformative work, with the first six months centering around my brokenness, though in a way that was vastly different from years past. Whereas before, centering my brokenness meant spiralling around and into it in despair, this year, I refused to allow despair or brokenness the upper hand, choosing instead to learn how to embrace my identity as God’s Beloved, to believe that God through the death of Christ had already done the work for me, and to find refuge in His presence through surrender when my thoughts and brokenness became too much.

Circa. 2010-2020: deeply depressed and carrying physical and emotional trauma, I often heard, “You just need to hold on to your identity in Christ.” I was comforted by this undying love God had for me, especially when I felt alone. This knowledge also helped me turn away from self-harm. But I was still deeply broken, alone, and plagued by shame, guilt, and fear of being unloved. Every time I made a mistake or hurt someone I loved, I lamented my depravity, but was determined to become a better person. I couldn’t fuck up. I refused to be an unloving person. I didn’t want to be an unloving person. I didn’t want to be unloved.

Circa 2016-2020: I had to hit rock bottom twice in order for me to finally understand that my brokenness was not something I could “make up” for… but that did not mean I was hopeless or incapable of good things. In light of all the devastation I had caused, grace remained. People who loved me remained, and continued to love me. Jesus continued to open His arms and say, “Come to me, and I will give you rest.” And then I finally came to see that it was my Fear of being unloved and abandoned that caused me to act in ways that wrecked the life and love around me…

2020: It was only after recognizing the myriad of ways Fear had taken hold of my life, paralyzing me, holding me back from life and loves, holding me back from living out of the identity God had been, for a decade, trying to extend to me that I finally decided to cast Fear aside. My desire for healing and life had to first and powerfully outgrow my Fear. I finally decided to stop living as though I was responsible for my own worthiness both before God and before others.

The process of confronting and unlearning my old thoughts, habits, and ways of being led me into the dark night of the soul, which the Christian mystics describe as a place of deep struggle with the self on the journey to union with God. In the end, it was only through the encouragement, words, and confidence from others that enabled me to enact surrender: surrender to the grace of God that now pervades the everyday, to the love of God that I now recognize to be the bedrock of my being, and to the work that God has been for so long inviting me into… a work of becoming and embracing who I am as I surrender to who He is and what He longs for.

“I think when I first began wanting to change, I knew that I needed God to help me make that change: I had spent too much time with myself and knew how truly unable I was to love others the way I wanted to love. In the darkness of my depravity, and in the face uncertainty in my most cherished relationship, all I could do was hang onto what I believed God was calling me to and continue doing what I thought was the next right thing, trusting that it was the right thing. But I guess Jesus didn’t want me to just be able to do the right thing, He wanted me to live in utter dependence on Him, confident that He is sustaining, guiding, and changing me… that the only right thing was being in intimate, faithful (comm)union with Him because that was where freedom was. He didn’t want me to live in fear of myself.

And so began the tug-of-war between the love of God for me and my depthless depravity. Many of the things I learned through the year have formed the foundation of how I am and want to continue living my life and my rhythms for life.

#personal #2020

anditslove

Jenny Slate, Little Weirds

the-memedaddy

meirl

swirly-rainbow

I OWN THIS SHIRT

thecakeofpan

Where can I get this shirt??

the-memedaddy

Here’s the shirt…

and btw here’s a discount code: MARCHFLASH

#kukuku

filmnoirsbian

In honor of me approaching my first 6 months mark as a flight attendant, here are some highlights from my time in this job:

When a lady stopped me gently to whisper that i had “mastered the art of kindness”

When an elderly woman told me i was “put on earth to be a flight attendant”

Each and every time someone complimented my nails

When i found an $8000 diamond watch left behind under a seat, gave it to a gate agent, only to have the passenger come running back 10 minutes later. Gate agent: man u wouldve been in trouble, huh? Man whom looked like a bond villain: i wouldve been SHOT.

Every lesbian ive worked with and had the nice bonding moment of “ur gay?? Im gay!!”

That time a man tried to get huffy with me because he wasnt in 1st class and i got to say “sir u can either sit in this seat or u can sit in a seat in the terminal while u wait to take the next flight”

When i had an emergency landing because the pilots lost steering and we all thought we were gonna die but then we didn’t and everyone just applauded the landing and didnt even complain about the 2 hour delay

When my flight was delayed for 3 hours because the plane wouldnt start so the crew and i just took a really long nap in the jetway

Every 4 and 5 star hotel ive stayed at for free

When we overnighted in the middle of nowhere in alabama and went to a sports bar at midnight. The bartender locked the door so it was just him and us and his friend, and we all got super drunk on obscure alcohols and i kicked everyones ass at pool

That time i had an emergency landing because one pilot had such explosive diarrhea that the other 2 pilots had to wear oxygen masks

When we overnighted in a casino resort in new orleans and ended up drunk on margaritas and playing blackjack with a bunch of old people at 2pm

Every little kid on my flights

Every dog i got to pet on my flights

When we were flying to nyc during julliard recruitments and half the seats were taken up by cellos

Being in airports late at night and seeing people sleep in the weirdest places because they just dont care (bathroom floors, under gate agent desks, etc)

When a woman forgot her actual baby on the plane

Woman: can i board first? Gate agent: are u special needs, active military or priority? Woman: no i just want to board first. Gate agent: maam i have 70 other people who also want to board first, im not looking for a line leader.

My very first working flight, when a man pointed to my necklace and said “is that a ball gag?” And, in my shock, i said “no, im gay”

filmnoirsbian

That time a ramp agent came up to me holding up his phone and said “wanna see something weird?” and i said yes, reservedly, thinking it might be gross but then he held out his phone and it was just a picture of hundreds of paradise birds that we were apparently flying to a zoo

filmnoirsbian

I have now been a flight attendant for 3 years and 2020 has been a dumpster fire in so many ways, including but not limited to the travel industry, but here are some highlights from this past year in particular

The old woman on my plane who saw a teenager was having a panic attack and immediately moved to sit with her and brought her so much comfort she was able to fall asleep

Working a flight with only 4 passengers so we all played Cards Against Humanity

Everyone who has very gently said “Stay safe” rather than “Goodbye”

Complimenting passengers’ fun masks and being complimented in return

The anxiety service dogs at the Philly airport wearing vests that say Stress Relief

The little girl in the airport who begged me to french braid her hair like mine (and her very apologetic mother)

The barista at the airport cafe who gave me free lattes every week for two months because I always came by around closing time

The beachside resort my FA and I got stuck at in key west for 3 days around my birthday because of a hurricane. If you’re gonna get stuck somewhere because of a hurricane, it might as well be a beachside resort with bottomless margaritas

Each time I reunited with a flight attendant/pilot friend in an airport or at a hotel or on an airplane. It always feels like a little gift

Speaking of gifts, every passenger that has ever given me anything but especially the man that brought freshly made muffins from his bakery for the crew last month, they were divine

The flight attendant I worked with on Halloween who watched a horror movie marathon with me at the hotel even though he was terrified of scary movies

Every aircraft cleaner

Every hotel cleaner

Every unaccompanied minor on my flights, who always make me feel like a temporary big sister

The time my roommate (also a flight attendant) got a flat tire while in the airport parking garage and no less than 3 different pilots stopped to help us change it

Flight crew game nights in our hotel rooms

The beach overnight on the last day of summer when my pilot and I (drunkenly) decided to go swimming in the ocean at midnight

The flight attendant who approached me in a hotel lobby and said we had flown together two years earlier, just after she’d been hired, and she’d wanted to fly with me again ever since

The nurse on my flight who, when the passenger beside her began seizing, leapt into action and saved her life

The tween girl who wanted to be a flight attendant and had us quiz her on airport codes (she got every single one correct 😳)

All the flight crew members who regularly help me steal supplies from the aircrafts (gloves, masks, water bottles, sani wipes etc) to bring to Philly’s homeless camps and protesters

We live under capitalism and its rule seems inescapable. I’m eager for the days when covid is just a bad memory, and the quality of and access to healthcare is such that, come the next virus, no one has to choose between paying rent or paying a hospital bill. I’m eager for the days when rent and paychecks are a thing of the past, when we work for the pleasure of working, without the pressure of being born into a world run by money and the men who control it.

In the meantime, all we have is each other, and I’ve been very lucky to have spent my time with so many generous, soft-handed people who have made this year not only bearable, but often enjoyable in spite of the rest. I have been very lucky to work a job that I (mostly) love, even if it is part of an industry that cares only for numbers, not people.

We can only keep moving in that direction, helping others along as we go. 💌

the-memedaddy

Me irl

33/100

i. This is the first major season where I feel I'm not grieving, where yes, sorrow is present, but I'm not drowning in despair. Sorrow is intimate, but not crushing. Lament, silence, stillness, and grief are languages of my soul, so much so that when I heard about a "blue Christmas" service, I joked about how I should attend because I'm... well, blue.

ii. Though this year, I am not grieving, I still am grieving. Watching "Black Ice" last night proved that. I am grieving for those suffering loneliness, loss, despair, sickness, and injustice. I grieve for the abandoned and hurting in Memphis, the kids and adults feeling unloved and those who have gone through too much far too young. I grieve for our homeless community, and how the city has left them in the cold, to die. I grieve for my home, my beloved city of Hong Kong... all the torn relationships she carries, the stifling she is undergoing, the lies, the pretending... I grieve because I love it, and it's being taken from us... I grieve for my friends who are in the midst of a separation, for the state of their hearts, and the change that is to come in their surrounding relationships and friendships, for the relationship they had, for their togetherness, now separate... I grieve for those dying alone in their homes, at hospitals, in a prison they've been sent to...

iii. In the darkness, a flickering of warmth, alight.

"Hush before the LORD, all humanity! For He has roused Himself from His holy dwelling."

iv. As long as we are alive, grief will remain. Until, of course, it doesn't. Jesus is near. He is always near. That is where the peace comes from. That is how i can have faith; because despite how I might feel or how things look to be, He has never left.

v. Tonight, I have no grief, but I am holding space, grieving with those who have grief, holding them as God grieves with and holds us.

vi. There is so much love here in the listening (silence).

-- vii. "Waiting is often an uncomfortable space."

But it is often uncomfortable because we fill it with worry... of what is, what isn't, and what could be. It is uncomfortable because we don't know how to unclench our fists. It is only when we finally open our hands that we are free to receive and to give.

viii. Jesus is a flickering candle, warm and bright. To see hope, how it is but a pinprick in an ocean of despair, is to acknowledge the darkness it is lighting. To face it, name it, and embrace it into the Light.

ix. In the darkness, a pinhole is big enough to let the light in.

x. Hope is subversive because the source of our hope is a God of surprises. As long as we refuse to resign ourselves to the reality of this dark and broken world, we might rediscover His presence with us.

xi. "Lord, hear our prayer. And in your mercy, answer."

#personal #advent #121720

32/100

the day stretches long, revealing desire. it is the possibilities and dreams, it is the possibilities and dreams of us.

i purchase an orange creamsicle to share. our laughter is the soft opening of a song we have yet to hear. the cicadas join in chorus.

at twilight, we intertwine ourselves, our hands a duet of sticky exploring, discovering, mapping only outlines of maybes and could bes, playing in the dissipating heat of summer.

#personal #072220

31/100

“grace upon grace”

uncertain, a firefly bumps into your chest, its light lingering just long enough for you to see your next step forward. in its attempt for love, the dying firefly blesses you, thank God for the holy little, pray for its ephemeral quest as you leave it behind on yours, for even to the ordinary, forgotten, hidden things, you are indebted.

#personal #071120

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