but here i am,

again, asteroid B 612 in my mind,

the little prince in my heart

and the rose,

in a jar on my table.

the first gift of the 16th.

this year i have been captivated, by the relationship between the prince and his rose,

and because of the significance of my name,

there is also a desire buried within me,

of my own little prince.

i have learned many things this year,

but most of all i have taken my heart,

weeded out the baobabs,

captured all the caterpillars, (except for one or two to become butterflies)

and built a glass case so that it will be protected:

from the winds and storms

from sheep without muzzles

from kings who want to own me,

from volcanoes that might possibly erupt,

and i am waiting,

for a little prince to come back home.

the numbers on the top of this blog will shift again,

but they still boldly state that

'i am more than my yesterdays'

i am changing,

i am growing,

i am failing but

i am trying.

and every day i am blooming,

and leaving a fragrance that is my own,

of this i am certain,

of this i am proud,

and i thank the King of the little prince,

for every little thing that has happened this year,

and even while i step over the threshold into a new decade,

i am waiting,

i am listening,

i am learning

that the road between each birthday

is a chapter of unfolding understanding.

i will never take it for granted that i have passed another year here,

that there is work still for me to do,

that i can learn still more ways, to glorify you

that i am blossoming into the rose

you made me to be,

and one day,

the little prince,

he'll come to me.

for you there was a lot of rain.

it will soon be a year, but you live still,

in the best sort of way.

i have mourned,

for you beloveds.

for you there was so much pain.

it is only the beginning, but you live still,

and one day, it will all fall into place.

i have cried my way through

the deepest wounds,

that have bubbled over and erupted into

screaming competitions, but finally there

has been a slice of the truth.

so let it rain.

because here i am,

waiting,

to be soaked so i can

laugh again,

love again,

try again,

fall again,

hurt again,

mourn again,

live again,

and do it better,

all because it rained.

little ones, big ones,

noisy ones, quiet ones,

cute ones, challenging ones

and i count them all as signs of being blessed.

choosing to carve themselves specific places in my heart.

settling in the empty spaces,

like a soft breeze tired from traveling

so it sits, and expands,

breathing a quiet peace through the raw cracks.

the best have been the many new you's i never expected to meet.

the best have been the moments of absolute perfection amidst the pain.

the best has been that all these presents,

they are making the future better,

always.

i can't recap this year, without remembering you.

but you have dropped in significance,

and so you shall be a middling sort of number,

but what is left to say about you?

as i approach these last days of this 19th year i find,

that the words have gotten fewer.

i remember you yet,

and there are many triggers,

which, when pulled,

puff wisps of you into my consciousness.

i watch them in wonder:

their quick fading,

their fleeting beauty,

their gradual disappearance.

soon you will cease to be you,

because 'you' is the direct address of me,

and you no longer deserve that title.

this me will always have you to thank,

for showing me new and wondrous things,

for making some of the funniest moments,

for giving me my first taste of love.

this me, will also always have you to thank,

for showing me the worst and ugliest ideas,

for making that which i value most into triviality,

for giving up, for giving in, for giving away.

it is always bittersweet.

but i am coming to embrace it with a grip that is

comfortable.

i am becoming comfortable,

without

you.

this is one of them.

but i can try paint its shades,

and recall its many faces,

like

the soft white lights on a christmas tree,

the sound of the soup coming to boil,

the explosive laughter of family,

the smell of the candle burning well.

or

fragmented pieces of the memory,

of your face, your smile, your hands and your lips

and you, and you, and you, and you

making everything complete despite imperfection.

i am constantly savoring

moments

such as walking down a windy winter street,

and feeling the warmth of the scarf wrapped around my neck

or getting ready for bed, in anticipation of another wonderful day tomorrow

the happy echoes of a recent past that fill a house when the door is shut

in the knowledge that i am one step closer to being better, and one step away from a me i am ashamed of being, yet proud to embrace as part of the struggle.

i am empowered, i am blessed.

the leap between what is said and what is felt is where words cannot take you.

but

幸福的溫度，

是足以融化心裡

那固執的雪地，

勸勸埋藏已久，

命名期待的花朵，

慢慢的，滿滿的

綻放。

and there,

they are blooming.

is the inversion

of

wishful thinking

to

thoughtful wishes.

wishful thinking

is trying to erase the past,

or justify it to make myself feel comfortable again.

it is wanting to believe that i

am above the trivial mistakes and misjudgments

that often inflict us in life.

it is wanting to wallow in

a puddle of self-pity and imagine that

some fairytale media sensation story will fall into my lap.

no.

with every fibre of my being,

i am consciously saying

no.

i am walking on the ridge of scars

toward a wiser tomorrow.

i am falling so that in my failures

there is a deeper strength.

i am not depending on that which

is neither permanent nor perfect.

there is more in me than i ever envisioned,

and until the full picture unfolds,

i will wish for strength, for comfort, for courage, for wisdom, for grace, for love.

i will make thoughtful wishes,

and turn them into fervent prayers.

push my heart into my knees that

one day,

one day...

from the inside out

done.

the appearance of a brilliant blue sky meant that streets once again,

divided into light and shadows.

in order to stay warm, i walked only in the light,

avoiding paths that were in the shade

but after a while, all roads leading home only offered a dark solution.

so i went in the shade, through a construction area,

with lots of noise,

loud machinery,

cars going by at extremely close range.

i always feel uncomfortable in places like these,

so i walked a little faster, to get through it quicker,

but turned instead, into a long sidewalk of sheltered construction path.

in walking,

it felt like walking through this past year,

all light and shadows.

sometimes, even the sky is covered by cardboard and metal framing.

yet

the funny thing about shadows is this,

you only get them, when the sky is clear, bright, and blue.

for shadows to appear, you need lots of sunshine.

so amidst my walk in the shade,

i looked up.

and the sky... regardless of what side of the pavement i was on,

remained a brilliant, irrevocable blue.

i think that has been my 19th year thus far.

despite the pavements full of shadows,

running parallel are the streets in the light

and above, always above,

there is a beautiful beautiful blue,

telling me

"beloved it's alright. i'm still here."

external and internal.

the longer i live,

the more there is to hide.

at least,

my first instinct is to hide.

turning around to see where i've come from

is both a marvelous display of grace and a shocking experience of shame

and they hit simultaneously.

the first emotion is silence.

i am still learning what it means to live in the grace of God,

to understand the way faith works and transforms.

at the same time, the present does nothing to change the past

it is still there, old temptations, old folly, old remembrances

and they sit, and wait, till time and opportunity give them another chance

to rear their ugly heads and eat away at my green sense of comfort.

it is hard to live with my past.

these few months have become intentional wrestling matches

with not just the fact, but the emotion that refuses to budge.

it is so much harder for us to forgive ourselves,

which is not a pretentious periphrasis of self-praise.

it just means we have less capacity than God to love,

even when it comes to what we value most in the world,

us.

but when they come,

these terrible shadows, these gaping mistakes,

when they move,

these sneering judgment calls,

creeping amidst confusion and self-doubt

destroying all the good and branding my heart

"undone"

i have learned,

that in facing the past

God loves me more than i'll ever love me

and shame will fade,

and strength will grow,

as grace rains... and rains... and rains...

i've began to see the leaps and bounds i've taken in re-centralizing my focus

on the beloved figure of Christ.

there are many things that i am still learning about love,

but these are a few that i've come to know:

love builds

love hopes

love believes

love commits

love lets go sometimes

love laughs

love cries

love is on its knees

love speaks

love is not love

love is none of the above,

those are merely what a possessor of love will do

love, really,

is that we exist, that we have purpose, that there is reason, that there are two and not one, but one made from two.

love is not a sugar-coated bite of fantasy,

love is not a bitter dose of cynical reality,

love is waking up every morning, remembering that someone watches over me,

and his gaze gives me freedom to fulfill who i was meant to be.

so when i love again,

i will watch over somebody,

and a double set of gazes,

means two times over,

"i love all you are, and all you will become"

so beloved,

see you in the next year,

or the year after next.

before the gaze,

there's always the waiting.

there are 10 days till i turn 20.

so there will be 10 different reflections on this past year.

if i honestly sift through this year,

the gold i panned might be too heavy for the sieve i'm using,

not that these nuggets are all positive,

but the wisdom gained from these pieces of gold are priceless.

-----------

i have discovered i am what they call an introvert.

how so?

i am slowly growing out into my fingertips, filling out the body of myself.

a little soul in a little body that is becoming a big soul in a big body,

constantly re-evaluating the web of thoughts in my being,

untangling little knots and smoothing out little wrinkles.

there are many things i cannot say or do,

there are many pieces of me that i am ashamed are there,

but there are also bits of me i can boast of, for the beautifying and boasting will give Him glory.

in all my times alone, i feel the call of wanderlust and so i answer.

in gradual wanderings i've unearthed hidden treasures, swept clean dusty corners,

and stepped into places i forgot existed but contain so many memories.

in intentional adventures, i've sailed to the furthest corners of my heart,

braved the stormy waters of my soul and gone into the deepest recesses of that cavernous

self we are all so afraid of.

i have discovered myself and mapped me out,

it is a good map,

at least,

for now.

soon my body will grow a bit, and my soul expand

and this lovely wandering, will start all over again.

but until then,

i have found this year's gold.