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Showing posts from August, 2022

The Broken Teapot

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I put the broken teapot by the window sill. I light a candle and an incense stick. I put them in the teapot. August 16 is village fiesta. The feast of San Roque. I notice in some cities, the unwanted people are often found in places called San Roque. There is a folk song, a non-sense song, called The Beggars of San Roque. The people are described as not being what they appear to be. Our neighbour moved in four years ago. They came from places where they were unwanted. They are not very rich and they are extravagant. They like throwing drinking parties for the few drunks of the village. The man of the house is deaf and the woman has a loud voice. But the deaf heard me when I opened the window while he was putting garbage by our back gate. The woman talks loudly to let people know she has company. They try very hard to make it appear that they are happy. I don't like doing that. I can't help expressing exactly how I feel. I scream and shout when I am angry. I cry when I am sad. Y

Walking Meditation

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It rains every evening. There is a gale sometimes. It gets cold at dawn. The flowers love this. The Brazilian red cloak shouldn't be flowering these past months. But because it is colder than usual there are flowers. The cat Little Grey takes refuge in the outside kitchen when it rains. I am getting that kitchen renovated. Little Grey will love it. It will have a tub. By morning, the garden has soaked up all the rain. It can be slippery and muddy in some places, so I am careful. So mindfulness of walking is practiced every morning. There is so much to observe in the garden every morning, every moment. I enjoy taking their photographs.  I still have a few ducks. I sold plenty of ducks. It is better to keep only a few. I am selling the native chickens too. It is good to have only a few so I can take care of them better.

I can't believe I am Finally Healing

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The island has no distinct seasons. Only Habagat and Amihan winds. Habagat, when the wind blows from the sea and the garden is wet and humid. Amihan, when the wind blows from the north and the garden is cold and a bit dry. Well, it rains all year round. But it doesn't rain continuously for days, something I grew up with as a child in Manila.   There are still some passionfruit falling from the vine. A few cacao pods ripen. It is winged bean season now. Butterfly season as well. The chilis grow all year round. I will make some Korean pancakes with these tonight. The flower of something popularly called Insulin Plant (Chamaecostus cuspidatus) is peeking through my studio window. I planted this and some Brazilian red cloak in a gravel patch made for filtering grey water from the shower. These plants love the grey water. They are all flowering beautifully. There are plenty of flowers in the garden. I bring some indoors to have something that brightens the space. I love them. Some of th

Mindfulness of Everything

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There are two windows in my room. One facing west and the other facing south. The sea is south, just 400 meters away. The winds of Habagat, the southwest monsoon, comes around April and May until September and October. In the west, I enjoy the sunset.  Every morning after feeding the pigs, ducks and chickens, I do walking meditation. I took these photos. I walk around the garden and look at details. The plants, rocks, soil, flowers, branches, sky. It stops me from thinking of the past and the future. Yet I think about what my ex-psychologist did to me. There I saw myself as a very vulnerable woman asking for help but was harmed by a very well known but very unskilled psychologist. It was not my fault. I have forgiven myself. So the present moment means more to me today. Not the past or the future.

Mindfully

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MINDFULLY. I am able to concentrate more on how I feel, on the good seeds within me, on the good seeds in others so I can touch those seeds and make them grow. Compassion is not hard, I have it within, the anger and violence are also within and they were watered for too many years. So they grew and overwhelmed me. They can now go back to where they came from. The good seeds are growing again. The four shells are for my "pebble meditation." My sister told me about Thich Nhat Hanh. I saw his dharma talks on Youtube. The three coins are Irish minted in 1949. A gift from someone in Australia. He knows I love pigs. There's a sow with piglets on those coins. On the other side is a harp. I had fencing built to let the pigs out into the garden. There is a water reservoir which is muddy now. My sow Beans went into the reservoir and had a bath. The ducks have their own pond. There are Asian Box Turtles there too. I am selling all my ducks and chickens. I want to focus on the pigs a

I'm coming home

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It has been a very long journey of seventeen years. I still have the gifts you sent me. You might recognize those balls of thread, those beads. I remember the tea I drank. Some of you sent me tea and yarn. I remember you were worried that the yarn might smell of cigarettes because you smoked. But there was nothing to worry about. There is a tatting needle there too. I bought it from one of you. The large wooden bowl is a gift from my mother, the little one is a gift from a university in Taiwan. I used to light incense sticks with a match. But one day I got a lighter because the wind kept blowing out the fire. There is a sewing kit. I did not buy it. My husband did. He buys sewing kits when he is alone. The small blue picture frame holds a photo of piglets I had seven years ago. Two piglets about a week old are fighting over a bottle of milk. One of them is Bootleg. The other is Brownie. All the piglets died. Only Bootleg survived. He is the sire of all my pigs today. The photo is fadin