Tuesday, October 07, 2008

empty bowl.

this story is about a bowl.

I've been reading this book called Everyday Sacred which was recommended by a friend. As you can get the idea from the title of the book, it's about thoughts on everyday life, thoughts on simple but important things.

The purpose of writing the book by the author in an image of an empty bowl made me realize that the same thing applies to our life as well.

We often times try to decide what we are looking for when we begin something in life, however, what happens often times is that we find what we were looking for along the way. Even if we decide what it is that we are looking for in the beginning, it might not be it what we find at the end of the journey.

We don't need to figure out everything in order to begin something. We will get to know what it is when the time comes and "I" need to stop wasting my energy for nothing.

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Friday, July 04, 2008


new book to read

I started reading this book today. From today's reading, this is the part I liked as an introduction to the concept of wabi-sabi and wanted to share with whomever stumbles upon my blog.


The subtle messages that live within wabi-sabi are the things we all seem to long for today: Slow down. Take the time to find beauty in what seems ordinary - and to turn the "ordinary" into something beautiful. Make things yourself instead of buying those spit out by machine, and smile when our work is flawed. Wash your dishes by hand. And, most important, I believe: learn to think of others before yourself.

The Wabi-Sabi House by Robyn Griggs Lawrence

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Friday, May 02, 2008

traveling light

traveling light

My wonderful friend Cortney found this beautiful yellow book at Seattle Airport on Christmas a couple years ago and bought me one. This beautiful yellow book is called Traveling Light, it provokes thoughts, conversation, and emotion, maybe even inner peace.

A little while ago, I remembered this beautiful yellow book as I was reading one of my friend's blog entries. I had to pick it up from my dusty bookshelf to read again.

The beatiful yellow book says, memories make the world home, and being a serious travel bug, I can relate to it so well. I'm starting to think about the destination of my next journey where I don't even know when my next vacation will be.

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Thursday, February 28, 2008


byron bay, australia

It's been about a month with a new job and I am already swamped with work. I'm already thinking about if I really want to do this. I get to think of what I want from my life again. If tomorrow is the last day of my life, will I be doing the same thing? Get to work at 9:30am, chased by due dates, due hours, and due minutes till I get off work. Too tired to do anything when I get home. Life should be spent for something more meaningful. I need more time to fit love and inspirations in my life and others'.

WIth all this thoughts and confusions, I remembered one of the piece written by Douglas Coupland. It was introduced by Dougal during one of our evening classes when I was back in school, when I was going through emotional and painful time of my life... I spent all night crying after that class, thinking of life and death, the beautiful summer days in Australia with Sean. March is coming again. The painful month with the loss of Sean. It's funny how everything else is returning the same way they always have been... only except one single thing that I'm not afraid to die for.

Here's the inspirational piece of Generation X by Douglas Coupland.

The setting is a poolside in a run-down Palm Springs apartment complex where a few twenty-something friends sit and tell stories to each other:
"Let me see your eyes."

Tobias leans over to allow Elvissa to put a hand around his jaw and extract information from his eyes, the blue color of Dutch souvenir plates. She takes an awfully long time. "Well, okay. Maybe you're not all that bad. I might even tell you a special story in a few minutes. Remind me. But it depends. I want you to tell me something first: after you're dead and buried and floating around whatever place we go to, what's going to be your best memory of earth?"

"What do you mean? I don't get it."

"What one moment for you defines what it's like to be alive on this planet. What's your takeaway?"

There is silence. Tobias doesn't get her point, and frankly, neither do I. She continues. "Fake yuppie experiences that you had to spend money on, like white water rafting or elephant rides in Thailand don't count. I want to hear some small moment from your life that proves you're really alive."

Tobias does not readily volunteer any info. I think he needs an example first.

"I've got one," says Claire. All eyes turn to her.

"Snow," she says to us. At the very momenta hailstorm of doves erupts upward from the brown silk soil of the MacArthurs' yard next door...

..."I'll always remember the first time I saw snow. I was twelve and it was just after the first and biggest divorce. I was in New York visiting my mother and was standing beside a traffic island in the middle of Park Avenue. I'ld never been out of L.A. before. I was entranced by the big city. I was looking up at the Pan Am Building and contemplating the essential problem of Manhattan."

"Which is--?" I ask.

"Which is that there's too much weight improperly distributed: towers and elevators; steel, stone, and cement. So much mass up so high that gravity itself could end up being warped--some dreadful inversion--an exchange program with the sky." (I love it when Claire gets weird.) "I was shuddering at the thought of this. But right then my brother Allan yanked at my sleeve because the walk signal light was green. And when I turned my head to walk across, my face went bang, right into my first snowflake ever. It melted in my eye. I didn't even know what it was at first, but then I saw millions of flakes--all white and smelling like ozone, floating downward like the shed skin of angels. Even Allan stopped. Traffic was honking at us, but time stood still. And so, yes--if I take one memory of earth away with me, that moment will be the one. To this day I consider my right eye charmed."

"Perfect," says Elvissa. She turns to Tobias. "Get the drift?"

- Generation X by Douglas Coupland

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Tuesday, August 28, 2007

at the end of the summer.

eat pray love

I met up with Caroline for dinner the other day before her departure to San Fran. Caroline and I met at a bookstore three years ago. We both were looking for a good Korean text book and that's how we started our the very first conversation.

After the dinner, we headed to the bookstore now to hunt a good English textbook for my student who I started teaching since the past weekend. I got three books. - English textbook for my student, Tuesdays with Morrie for Caroline, and this book, Eat Pray Love, for myself. I had a busy weekend and just started reading it at the gym tonight.

Well, now I'm back to my blog - The summer has been tediously long but it's time to get ready for the autumn.

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Friday, December 29, 2006

tuesday people

out focused

I picked up a book at a book store during lunch hour yesterday. I started reading it since last night and went through almost half of it already. ‘Tueadays with Morrie’ by Mitch Albom - it’s the book I started reading a couple years ago but never got to finish reading and it’s the book I sent to Sean when he was away. I think I also sent him ‘Me Talk Pretty One Day’ by David Sedaris.

When I had a lot of time in my hands early of this year in Vancouver, I spent a lot of time at bookstores… mainly Chapters on Robson & Hornby and Book Warehouse in Yaletown. I liked Warehouse in Yaletown better because they always had nice Jazz music on and that always helped me taking enough time and finding good books to read. I picked up ‘The Five People You Meet in Heaven’ by Mitch Albom there. I’d never heard of the book before but had a feeling that I would enjoy reading. I enjoyed reading it and it helped me crying. Life and death… especially death, how many people at my age would think so much about it unless they lost someone very close to them. Everyday, every hour, every minute, and every second for the past year, I was never free from the thoughts of life in connection to death.

People tell me time heals the wound. Did I ever believe what they say? Did I ever want to believe? Now I realize it’s love I had for Sean that makes my heart ache. It’s the love, it’s the memory, it’s the connection, and it’s the yearning. I don’t know what comforting words ‘Tueadays with Morrie’ would give me as I went through only half of it… but I know it already talks about something that I’ve been thinking about a lot for a long time… but never really got around to put them into words. It feels like I met a friend who shares similiar view point on life.

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