the art of sharing words

I think about how words weave us together, how they stitch us back up when we feel entirely split down the middle, how they offer an outreached hand and an offering of companionship, how they sustain and support. I think about how what we might assume isn’t anything important or significant ends up being a lighthouse in someone’s day, even if only our own, and what else is more important than that? To turn on the light for one another by way of choosing to say what we have to say? To read the flicker, the glimmer, the words others choose to shine out into the world, becoming more ourselves for their having said what they have to say? - Lisa Olivera 2023

From time to time that question pops up - why write. Why bother to share. In this platform. In this space that I hardly ever update. The only consistent thing is the lack of updates. I am laughing. I made a promise to myself a while back that if I were not able to do this with care, then I would rather not do it at all. There is no point if I end up being over-extended in the process. It is not about the quantity; it is always about the quality. Quality doesn't just happen, it takes meticulous attention, absolute care and deliberate consciousness. It is an act of respect - both to the words themselves and their readers, and I would even extend that respect to their author. I am not obsessed with quality any more than any author/artist would be, but I do see my work as an extension of myself. I want to do it with care, so that I can do the work that I know I can do that actually matters to me. A lot of this is subsconscious. But it’s in a way in which even the words we are thinking is shaping the way we are living. Writing is just one way to express that. In writing, I indulge myself in the things that bring me back to live, in the questions that I have been asking that I cannot find answers for. I am not looking for any answers, or anything if at all, just merely observing. And maybe, just maybe, in holding myself with an eagernes to observe, I can give myself the words to string together. To make meaning out of something. Or nothing at all. 

the art of relationships: a note on human connection

I feel the need to apologise for not writing here, I have afterall missed a birthday post. I don’t have any reason other than the simple fact that I have been otherwise occupied. With other things, most of which are quite pressing. The leisurely luxury of writing hasn't exactly been an option.  In summary, yes, there were the lockdowns and then the strong urge to travel that followed, the burst of pent-up emotions, the unrealistic expectations that followed. A lot has changed, of course. I have changed. Some of these changes I instigated, while others kinda just… happened. I let them happen. That made it sound as if I am this really chilled person who’s capable of letting change flows, but believe me that a lot of it was done some what begrudgingly. 

My life has been changing quite rapidly in directions that I did not foresee in the past few months. These changes are happening so fast that I am barely keeping up. Or at least, they feel fast. That, or I am just, well, old. It happens. I want to opt out of aging, but apparently that option isn’t so readily available just yet. Maybe one day there is a pill for it. Maybe there will be a pill for substituting exercise too. 

The preamble of this piece is that a person that I quite like is moving out of Sydney permanently. I am of course excited for them and their upcoming adventures and also sad that they won’t be in a close physical proximity for much longer. Yes, I admit that I do take the physical proximity for granted. Because now I wish that I had spent that much more time with them. Time is the only currency of life. Time is also the greatest gift we can give (or be given), because it is literally a portion of our lives that we will never get back. 

Moments like this make me appreciate what it feels like to be human. And not just any kind of human moment, it is one that entails a deep bond that’s formed between people who see and value each other. Who make each other feel seen and valued. Who open up to each other and build trust. There are some people in this world who make you feel appreciated by simply being here. There are some people in whom you feel welcome, like you’ve known each other for a long, long time. These people don’t just feel like home, they are home. 

There are very few things that you cannot discuss with these people. In addition to providing a safe space to be, they bring out the sides in you that you’d rather stay hidden. They remind you that there is light, especially in the darkest corners of your soul. They help us access our own minds, they help us bridge the gaps with their presence, their words, their being. They make us feel safe, not only when they are around, but more like when they are not around. They instil in us an ability to be safe in our own skin. 

I am privileged to experience a human connection of this kind, and I am deeply, deeply grateful for this bond. I will discover whether how this bond will transcend physical proximity and unplanned interactions, and I look forward to experiencing a deeper connection in a way that I am yet to experience. 

“You cannot force a person to see you as someone they want to open up to; you cannot force a person to see you as someone they want to connect with; you cannot force a person to see you as someone they are bound to. None of this can be enforced, none of this is reached through struggling; for the reality of these is in nature and freeflow is the way of nature. The natural opening up, the natural connection and the natural bond: cannot be attained through enforcement; but as the ocean is, it can also not be hindered or stopped. We cannot make people bond with us in ways that we wish them to; but when it does happen, it really happens, and cannot be undone.” ― C. JoyBell C.