The Mid Size Punch

Sometimes, things come and hit you from out of nowhere.  It is like a punch in the dark.  A spit even.  Yes it feels like you are being spat on sometimes, doesn’t it?  And you don’t know why. You were not even in a battle.  Not in the ring.  Lights were out.  You were not expecting a visitor.  Nobody rang the bell.  And boom, you get hit.  Some unexpected news perhaps.  Someone turning you down.……

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The Lost Art of Doodling

If you look at anyone deeply.  Staring at their very being, you will see the little kid they used to be.  Anyone. Try it.  Even those you don’t like.  Especially those.  Just look at them. Behind their eyes a kid is looking at you.  Just look at the way their food stumbles on them.  It’s the kid eating.  And the way they are dressed.  Not their work clothes, but their silly bracelet.  Or the…

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The Weathered House

I realized that my aging is more physically evident lately.  It is like a beautiful weathered house on the water.  It looks different when it’s been there a lifetime vs when it's brand new.  Even if the owners took care of it in every way, the many gatherings, celebrations, transitions and of course the ocean splashing all over it, has made it look different.  I don’t think the word older is…

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Waving At You From the House Across the Street

I wasn’t planning on it but I just spent a whole week truly being myself.  I didn’t care about pleasing anyone. Not even one.  I said whatever was on my mind.  I was myself 100%. Full on.  And then it hit me.  I realized that when you show up fully, with no guilt, no shame, no worry about what anyone may be thinking about you.  When you just rebel against the version of yourself that was slightly…

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You Have To Slow Down When You Are Sad

Why is it so darn hard to stop and tend to our sorrow during a hard season?  And why does it feel so unnatural to be sad? Why isn’t our society able to help us heal? No wonder we find it difficult to take time off work, or let go of our responsibilities.  It is like we are being dragged by a fast moving train and we won’t let go of the railing. Because if we did, what would people think of us?…

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A New Chapter Begins

Lately, I realized that I will never stop writing about longing and loss.  I see everything from a transient perspective.  I am in love with the moment, because it is so fleeting.  I see everything from the end.  When I witness people in the later stage of life, I see the goodbyes they had to say.  The many selves they had to abandon. The many people they lost.   The jobs. The hobbies. Their…

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How Would I Live My Life If I Experienced Loss When I was Older?

The other day, someone asked me something important.  She said…”Christina, do you have any words for those of us who started this journey not quite as young as yourself. Those of us, who may only have 10 or less years to live.  If I was younger, I think I would have more hope to be happier one day, but the years left are few and I can't find any joy in the upcoming blankness of my future.”   I…

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We Do What We Can With What We Have

Today’s letter was not coming.  A day such as this, had never happened before.  For the last 520 Fridays, every week, without a miss, a letter would always come through for you. Today was different.  It was as if it was trying to get me to notice the silence. The quiet.  I'm sitting here just waiting to write.  Maybe this is what was needed today.  You see, the only reason I have had the courage…

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How Do We Find Love In Quarantine?

How do we find love while in quarantine?  While in isolation. What happens to those who have yet to meet their first or second soulmates. They dreamed of meeting them at the library, at the bookstore, at the cafe, at the pub.  At conferences, at work.  They never dreamed of meeting them at home.  What happens now?  How do we find our way to each other when we are not supposed to be together?…

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The Losing of Oneself.

I think it's nostalgia.  That sweet feeling made out of longing.  Remembering the days at the beach, in our youthfulness.  Laughter echoing in the sand, staying present in everything.  The younger we were, the less real the past was.  The less needy we were of the future.  We just naturally stayed in the moment, without knowing we were in the most unending time of our lives.  I don’t grieve my…

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