Something so beautiful

I am sitting here in my boyfriend’s apartment one fine morning, enjoying tasty white chocolate and a glass of water. I want to write so bad but I didn’t bring my journal.

… listening to one of my forever favorite song from Craig David, unbelievable.

I can’t believe I will write this.

“… Somewhere I’ve never thought I’d be.”

That sentence is the best sentence to express what I feel now. I was ready to live with myself, ready to devote myself to teach kids and have fun with them everyday. I was ready to leave my hopes behind me, looking for something meaningful for my little lost heart. I was ready to just being happy with me.

But, now everything has meaning. I am afraid to be here to be honest. I am in a place where I’ve never thought I would be.

Yes, I had crush on some men before.

Yes, I felt like I found someone who would be nice to me before.

Yes, I fell so hard before.

Yes, I heard lies before.

Yes, I had to face bitterness before.

Yes, I cried because someone hurt me before.

Yes, I had to run before.

Yes, I lost my heart.

Yes, I was terrified to meet someone new before.

Yes, I cried.

Yes, met someone who is different this time.

Yes, I don’t believe in myself, still.

Yes, I am nervous about the future.

Yes, I am afraid now.

Yes, I do care about this one.

Yes, I want to spend my life with him.

Yes, I am willing to take the risk.

Yes, I feel something so beautiful in my heart.

….

Something so beautiful

 

Something so beautiful

 

“..Somewhere I’ve never thought I would be.”

Hi, Future Me

For myself when I reach 37 years old.

Hi, georgeous juni 🙂 

Well, this is a letter for myself in my 37th birthday.  I would like to ask first. You still write dairies? I hope you still do. How many books do you have now? And how’s your life? 

You must be married and a mother now. When I reach my 30ies, I hope that I am having a great family to be with. My own small family who will make me proud of being a mom. A good husband and two beautiful kids. At that age, I hope I am now a real writer who has published some good books that encourage many people to make them happy. And a school owner where people can trust their kids to share and build their kids’ dreams with us.  Time flies and I hope now I will be very proud of my life. I don’t look for anything but happiness for my little family and make people around me happy too. 

As one of my dreams to become a writer, I hope I can now diplay some of my books in my own library where people can borrow as well as learn from our small library. My dreams are mostly related to books and knowledge. Yep I’m still that kind of woman who loves books. 

Keep dreaming.
And dreams do come true.

-15 minutes writing technique- 

Children – Desk – Dreams

First day of school

As I woke up this morning, I felt like I didn’t think I will be ready to start my day.  My summer holiday syndrome is still haunting me. I had the most awesome and unforgettable summer holiday ever in my life, yeah well that’s al, because I have spent a great time with my Balinese man. As it turns out to be my, what he called as, a weeky-moon for us. However this time, I will not talk about my love life with this person, this post will be about my love with my students. Group of kids who brighten my days, enlighten my life, building my future. 

First day of school – been waiting for this day for like two weeks now. A day where I can meet my fresh faces of my-will-be-kids for a whole year in my new classroom. A group of kids who make me think that I am a mother of them at school. Group of kids who look at me with those eyes, kind of look I really like. Group of kids that make me so mermerized with those pure smiles. And group of kids who remind me of the true happiness in playing time. 

That morning I spent quite amount of time trying to make myself look as fancy as possible to great them in front of the class. I teach 5 graders this year. For like more than 4 years I have been teaching kids. I have taught younger kids, 1st graders, 2nd graders even preschool and kindergarten kids, but this time 5th graders will be all over my whole year.  

I greet them with my best smile in the class and introduced myself in kind of funny way so that They will remember the first time they met me. I want them to think that I am a fun person. They can tell me anything and they can trust me. I want them to feel like I am a part of their days in school. I want to share knowledge as well as learn from them. I want to get involved in their thought. I want to make them laugh, and enjoy my class.i want them to be happy.
-15 minutes technique of writing-

Sunsets Apart

vikas chandra

As the twilight smoke roosts in his forlorn yard
The old man rouses from a dazed drowse
For one more trudge past that bygone boulevard
To walk a misspent life to rue, coddled echoes to carouse

Gazing the shades of fleeting days, gaging life in lingering nightfalls
Seeking to infer His signs profound, he tries to read the heavens high
A life amiss, strewn years across age, dwelled in a castle with empty walls
“Who made this of you?” I asked, he said “Me, myself, who else” with a throbbing sigh

Not so charmed, he warily recounts, the costs and throbs of a so-so life
What became of him, a soul pristine, over time, why he squandered away?
A gift sublime, would a frenzied soul know, how to spend, with insolence rife?
“So be it!” as he atones and reconciles, in the cold light of day

How fondly kindled, a…

View original post 151 more words

The Irrefutable Best Books of 2014, As Determined by Science*

Sorry Television

It’s been a trying year here at Sorry Television. Sidetracked by work—and, let’s be honest, an endless procession of binge-worthy Netflix inventory—I am set to close out 2014 with a mere 32 books under my belt, near enough to bi-weekly that I should probably rebrand as You’re Welcome Television (subtitle: Reading Books Every So Often, Like When the Power Goes Out). I’m already planning redemptive 2015 reading goals (a book a day? a book an hour?) but for the time being I’ll have to accept mediocrity, and foist as much blame as possible on a shorter commute’s ability to stymie even the most dedicated bibliophile.

But I can claim a smidge of productivity this month, which is why I’m Indiana-Jonesing under the content door that is Christmas week to bring you The Irrefutable Best Books of 2014, a master list of this year’s greatest hits, as determined by 21 other “best of”s written by people who have actually read them…

View original post 573 more words

Stones that made food

Bente Haarstad Photography

For centuries there was production of millstones in these mountains, now a national park. The production in Kvernfjellet (The millstone mountains) started sometime during the 1500s, and lasted until 1914. There have been many sites for millstone productions in Norway during history, but this was the biggest with more than 1000 quarries. For some centuries this area supplied more or less all the country with these stones.  In the 1800smostof the bread eatenin Noway was bakedfrom flourmade withthes stones, that is mica-schist scattered with 2-5mm large crystals of hard minerals. In the picture above is a broken millstone left in the mountains.

Millstones were needed to grind grain, our most important food source, in Norway as in so many countries. There have been a lot of scientific work on these sites lately. A multidisiplinary research project involving geologists, archaelogists, historians, botanists, geographers and…

View original post 293 more words

A Letter To The Daughter I May Never Have

amanda trusty says

My dearest daughter,

I’m writing this to you at age 27, at which point I still don’t know how to change a diaper.

And I have to tell you right away, I live in a world where planes crash unexpectedly, and love doesn’t always win, and I eat pesticides for breakfast. My neighbors fight when they’re drunk and my friends have cancer and twelve-year-old students sell pot out of their lockers at school. I’m sorry darling, but this world is no place for a child.

I’m looking at a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table that your potential daddy bought me three days ago and they’re wilted because I forgot to change the water. The sink is dirty and the recycling bin smells like sour milk and Coca-Cola. My home is no place for a child to grow.

But goodness it would be so gorgeous to meet you…

View original post 2,769 more words

India Through the Lens: A Year of Memorable Moments Part 1

The Wandering Nomads

“The journey itself is my home.”

365 days of homestays, high altitude cycling, and beautiful landscapes throughout India.

Delhi is a harsh place where poverty and wealth are seen in such extremes living side by side. The rickshaw drivers are considered some of the poorest people, often times not even making enough to eat though they risk their life and health daily as they pedal people around this very chaotic city.

I was able to visit the lotus temple, a Baha’i temple located in Delhi.

One of my first “local” experiences was cutting grass for a few days with these ladies near Manali. During the fall they frantically collect as much as they can in order to feed their cows throughout the snowy winter. Every evening they invited me back for tea and food in their homes after we were finished working.

Cycling through this area enabled (or…

View original post 742 more words

On Mood Disorders and the Writing Process

Let’s Talk About the Darkness

momsicle

What if joy and pain were different shades of the same, beautiful color—not sworn foes growling and frothing from opposite corners?

What if they completed each other? What if they were in love?

I just read Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World, by Henri J.M. Nouwen, and he got me thinking about joy and pain.

When you come in from the snow and run your hands under cold water, your hands, they bite and burn just the same way as when you plunge them into a scalding bath.

Hold that thought. Let’s focus on the darkness for a moment.

***

K-Pants spent the night at my sister Hillary’s a while back. Hill woke up to see him standing right next to her bed, staring at her. “I’m afraid of the darkness,” he said.

Tell me about it.

I haven’t had a diagnosis of depression. But…

View original post 360 more words