Alignment does not mean that every day is sunshine and rainbows. Some days you will still need your support systems that uplift you to keep you aligned. Talk to someone who supports you unconditionally even when they may not fully understand what you are going through. Participate in what will keep you grounded: meditations, a walk in nature, running a few miles, drinking a cup of coffee or tea, a cuddle with a beloved companion, etc.. Be aware of the thoughts circulating in your head. Catch yourself in those modes of negative self talk and transmute them. Remind yourself that you are not lacking anything. Remind yourself that you are a divine being, it is your divine right to access your true divine being and sustain it.
When you are aligned, the universe will converse with you and guide you. Trust.
I was on my way to drop off my son to school and stopped to get some gas. My intent was $10. When I let go of the pump to stop the fuel, the digits read $9.99.
999 is completion and new beginnings to come. As endings close out, release is necessary. As release goes, new beginnings come. I was not feeling great yesterday. I spoke to my older sister about what I was feeling within. I felt unsettled being in transition. I spoke of how I had grown up in the west coast (California). I had built a life there and then let it all go. Then I started a new life in the midwest (Wisconsin). I rebuilt everything, it was great to many aspects. But again, I let all of it go to begin again. I currently reside in the east coast currently residing in the Carolinas.
Before I was an avid hiker and nature lover, I walked and biked. Taking pictures started as a way to capture moments for memories but now it is a passion I enjoy. I mostly capture nature now but I did take a lot selfies as a way to check in on me due to my health routine priorities in Wisconsin.
I am a selfie person but not quite like others. I was conditioned to please others. I had been through many ups and downs with weight until maintaining it better now. Acne and eczema didn’t help my self esteem. I did not believe that I was any kind of standard beauty. I did not see myself as beautiful nor did I feel complete or enough. If you look through my photos, I started filtering my photos with a soft touch. The first 6 photos were taken on a flip phone and then a Blackberry. The iPhones photos, Photos 7-9, have the soft touch filter. Photos 10-12 have no filter but were also taken with an iPhone. The first 5 were taken in California. The last 7 were taken in Wisconsin. Recent photos taken here in the Carolinas are in my first alignment post. I am beautiful. No filter necessary.
These yearly biometric reports were done as part of our health program in our school district while I was an educator there at the time.
I was and still am a perfectionist at times.
School IDs are not great but I like this one. I will have to do a comparison of other school IDs so that you can see the difference when making your health a priority.
I used to run a few miles after work and take a selfie.
Pre calisthenics workout photo.
I am in transition. My alignment is really good but as I continue to align and ascend to even higher levels of consciousness and vibration, higher levels of being is yet to come. I do not have all the answers nor is everything all figured out, but I am doing well.
I mentioned in previous posts about the shaman journey and the twin flame journey as well as other life happenings. It is as if I have already lived several lifetimes in this one iteration. Time is not linear so my stories are segmented. Each are parts to a continuing saga. I have been putting my memoirs on hold for over fifteen years. I had wanted to finish them but something kept telling me it was not time. I understand why now. It was not ready yet. It is still happening. Someday, my memoirs will be published in a book titled The Villain that Does Not Die.
~~~
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It was World Mental Health Day yesterday, 10/10/25. After I completed my meditation session, my Headspace app applauded me.
Screenshot
Meditating is a great way to align the body and train the consciousness to be more open and resilient. It helps to reset the body and the mind. Simple breathing techniques help to physically reset the body while sitting with yourself and your thoughts help the mind better tune in to the inner self. Thoughts do not own the mind, thoughts come and go. Like a storm, thoughts pass. The mind is a sky, the vessel.
If it works better, try walking mediations or other kinds of meditations such as sound meditations. You also do not need to sit for meditations. You can lay down, stand, sit at an incline or position your body to what is comfortable. Explore what works best for you.
Headspace is an app that provides guided meditations along with other mental health support strategies and insight but you do not need an app. You can meditate on your own. And, if you do not want to subscribe to an app, there are other ways to get access to guided meditations.
Today is day 44 for me this cycle. My longest streak was over 900 days. I usually meditate in the mornings and sometimes I do two or three sessions depending on the day.
On my journey to a higher level consciousness where I am functioning at a higher frequency, I realize the importance of alignment within. It is my duty as my right of divinity. We have in our DNA a divine right, the divine abilities are within.
To access my divinity, my higher level consciousness so that I can vibrate at a high frequency, I disconnect from energies that do not serve me. This includes but are not limited to cutting out social media, not going to events where activities will not align with my energy, and putting up healthy boundaries. Oftentimes toxic situations drain our energy so getting creative with boundary setting is needed. It can also mean changing your career.
If you have a mission that is a higher calling, such as being a healer, the universe will guide you and it is not always what you expect because it will put you through a series of trials. That career you thought was right is stripped from you. That relationship that you thought was right for you is stripped from you. It can make you feel awful, like you hurt them (that partner or those at your work community), but it is not your fault nor is it theirs. Anyone who is a shaman can relate to this because the shaman journey is a spiritual awakening. I will dive into this topic of the shaman journey in another post.
One confirmation from the universe that you are on the right path, that alignment to a higher level of consciousness is happening, is seeing repeating numbers or number sequences. These have significant meanings and can also be interpreted differently if you are on the Twin Flame journey.
Most often for me is seeing repeating numbers on my phone.
I do not watch the clock specifically just waiting for the numbers, I would see the screen at the exact moment of the digits appearing.
I see the numbers when out shopping or when an online order total comes out as a set of repeating numbers or number sequence.
On the road, I also see repeating numbers on license plates.
I did not take this while driving, when driving my son takes the picture.
At the gas station.
On my dash in my car.
I did not take this while driving, when driving I have my son take the picture.
When I am out hiking.
I use MapMyWalk to track my hiking sessions. I included these particular screenshots because on each of them there are two sets of numbers to note. In the first one, 333 and 20:20. In the second one, 22:27 and 1:23:45. In the third one, 222 and 369. You can look up these numbers to see what each meaning is. Once you start noticing them, number patterns or sequences, and they keep popping up, you will come to know their meanings by memory. If you are not familiar with them yet, you can google Angel Numbers and their meanings for guidance on Angel Numbers guidance.
Another way the universe communicates is by sending you signs. They could be literal signs or symbols. Oftentimes animals, insects, images or objects are symbolic. In my previous post, a mention a grasshopper and a weevil. I often see butterflies and moths as well as snakes. Have you been seeing animals? Or how about a specific image or rainbows or a specific kind of flower? You can look up these spiritual meanings on google as well.
The universe has its ways of whispering. When you are vibrating at a higher frequency and are co-creating with the universe, you can ask for a sign the universe will confirm by showing it to you somehow. Last July, I asked for a frog or toad as a confirmation to a question I had in mind and the universe showed me a toad moments later on the trail.
A few weeks ago, a feather came floating to me. I have seen them on the ground while on the trail or in a wooded area where it may have gotten stuck on a tree branch, but this feather was floating to me in the air on from the upper left as I was walking by the lake. As if on a special delivery it came to me right at arms length and I put my hand out to where it landed on my hand.
The timing was perfect. If I had been a moment too early or too soon, it would have missed me and ended up on the ground. Grey, white and brown means for me to trust my intuition and inner voice, it also means fertility, nurturing and being grounded.
I am currently on day 1940 on MyFitnessPal. Where I started was 196 lbs in November 2018. As of last Saturday, I weighed at 138 lbs. I was not consistent at first. I would start and stop and start again. As stated in 2020 (in an earlier post years ago), I had to start because I could not walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded. I was also concerned that I would become diabetic and I do not want to be dependent on pharmaceutical medications.
I still log in my meals daily. The calories counting is the least of my concerns but I do like seeing my daily macros. Because I am 46, I make protein intake a priority. I also do calisthenics using hand weights and kettlebells and incorporate cardio workouts to get my heart rate up, focusing on zones 2 and 4. One thing that I need to improve on is my sleep routines. It is difficult as a single parent. It is not hard to get things done but it takes time, why my sleep is impacted.
I invested in a WHOOP device because like many of the apps I use, it helps me to better understand my health and routines. It really helps me to know how I am doing because I am actively monitoring myself. These apps, my daily routines and activities allow me to know what works and what does not work for me.
I am on Day 586 on WHOOP.
I share these stats on social media but it is uncertain who actually takes the time to read them or takes them in consideration.
I do not post fitness updates to belittle anyone, I post to show that I am making progress, that I am keeping up with self care. My posts are to show that it can be done. I post to try and inspire others.
All that I have shared so far on this platform, my fragments, memories and photos, they are all part of who I am and how I came to be, why I am the way that I am.
On this path, this journey of authenticity, I chose me. I will continue to choose me and my sovereignty. If I am seen as a villain, so be it.
I am whole and complete.
I am not anyone’s princess, I am not anyone’s queen, I am me-capable as source itself, beauty and light.
On my way home from the trails this past weekend a weevil and a grasshopper appeared. The grasshopper was by my car in the parking lot. It jumped a few times as if to say hello, do you see me? Yes, I see you little guy but be careful, not everyone sees you. It might be a good idea to get out of the parking lot or you might get run over or stepped on.
The weevil was on my hand.
I put the weevil down by the grasshopper and thanked them for their interactions as signs from the universe. I am not alone and am currently co-creating with the universe through how I vibrate.
If you have read my Fragment posts, it may seem that I need to be medicated or that I need to seek psychiatric services. From all the of the trauma I experienced, it may seem so but I am actually doing better than most. It has been arduous but I have taken the time to strip away a lot. I have gone within, reached out to source and connected with peace and light through energy work. At first it was lonely but then I found gratitude in solitude. I became what I was looking for. Little by little, the universe and why I am here made more and more sense. I no longer fit where I was nor do I need any apologies or to apologize.
After moving away to start anew, I go back to visit where I used to live. I see friends and feel their energy. I note that things can be better for them as I listen to them.
Undergoing an awakening process requires time and energy, confronting and sorting, unlearning and relearning. And it is still on-going. It started back in 2010 but at that time I did not know what was going on. It started with a feeling of void, a void within that I could not pinpoint.
I have completed Reiki Master Level 3 in May, 2025. I was already a shamanic practitioner but I decided to also get certified for Shamanic healing in June, 2025.
I am a healer and I can guide. I can help. But while this is true, I cannot make the choices and do the healing for family and friends. They have to make the choices and seek the guidance themselves.
I healed myself. I am an energy conduit.
I am not on any kind of medication for any physical ailments. I take Claritin for seasonal allergies but this is only when symptoms are heightened. Once in a while I may take a Tylenol, or Ibuprofen, but this is not a regular habit. I am also not seeing any current therapists. I did seek help in the past, a recent case when I relocated to the east coast and another time when I was still a university student, but they were both temporary and both therapists stated how well I progressed on my own.
If you have read this far, know that I honor your time and energy.
~~
*All photos are mine in this blog and in all my blog posts. Any music shared via YouTube belongs to the artist, I do not own rights to the music.Please respect and give credit to the artists where credit is due.
“The way we see things is affected by what we know or what we believe.” – John Berger, Ways of Seeing
It ends with me.
The generational trauma that my mother carried. The generational trauma that my father carried. The absence of their parents in their lives which caused their absence in mine. The generational trauma of my grandparents that were passed down, and those traumas passed from the previous generations. What happened in the past does not define me, what happened does not drain me or exhaust me or limit me.
My son will not carry the generational trauma of being displaced, of abandonment, of inner dysregulation. My son will not carry the lingering energies that do not serve his higher good. I dissolve such energies now.
I sever the energies of what no longer serves our highest good from past generations. I sever the energies that may interconnect in current or future generations, the energies that may still resonate in the family members who are still healing. I move the stagnant and draining energies to be recycled into useful energy.
I vibrate as love and light free from limitations.
My eyes peer through sleep-pretend lids. One of my older brothers enters our room after using a screwdriver to unhinge the chain lock. Without a sound, he walks over to my older sister. I cannot see his face or the expression on it. After observing her, he extends his right arm placing it on her. He pauses. He lifts her shirt from at her waist, pulling it up slow. She’s facing the wall, quiet and serene, away from him and me. First her bra and then her breast, or was it already just her breasts without a bra? Perhaps I blinked or closed my eyes too long. Bra or not, he’s touching her skin. I wish for blindness. I keep watch as best as I could, as I had promised my sister I would. I watch paralyzed that I might be next, that his hands may be on their way to touching me at any moment.
My sister lies motionless, as if really asleep, dreaming a good dream.
He does not come to me. Not that time. I’m not sure if he ever did, if he touched me before that day, while I slept. Did I wake up with a bare chest once or twice? I cannot be sure. I felt so a few times. Maybe I disbelieved it. Was it just the one older brother or both? Maybe my sister knows.
After that day, we barricaded our door every night and every time when we took naps until the day we each moved out. Stacks of old thick discarded books always stood behind the door like a line of soldiers.
I don’t know if my sister told Mama before or after the conscious slumber, but I remember her sitting and saying, barricading our door was necessary.
~~~
The night he took my virginity, I went to sleep with a throbbing in my cunt. He forced himself on. He forced himself in. He wanted me, not just physically but as his wife -it was how he marked his territory. Mama’s presence, on the adjacent couch, didn’t help, it didn’t stop him from his actions. She fell asleep while on guard.
The night he took my virginity, I knew I had to marry him. It only takes one time, they said in sex education, just one time and you could get pregnant. By the time I eloped with him, it had been more than once. Save face. Save face. Save face.
Suppose I had screamed that night. Suppose I kicked him in the shin, or where his penis swelled. Suppose my mother didn’t fall asleep. Suppose I was not attractive to him. I might still be single. I might be married to someone else.
~~~
We don’t kiss or hold hands in public. In bed, I’m just a sack collecting semen. Orgasms occur once in a while, when I’ve been deprived long enough. When it happens, I am reminded of what isn’t supposed to happen.
When done, we wipe ourselves with a soft cotton dress.
A few months ago, I yawned while he was inside of me. He stopped and it didn’t matter. I don’t remember the last time we had sex. I know that it happened but the details escape me. It could have been a month ago or two months ago. Ninety percent of the time, I don’t experience an orgasm. Sex with him is sometimes as casual as tying my shoes. I know there could be more, it could be better. My first orgasm happened without anticipation years into our sexual relationship.
He rolls over when done; his spine to me, his arms and legs away from me, his heart and mind somewhere else. Almost immediately he seems to sleep. I sometimes cried. I used to cuddle his back, touch his skin with the tips of my fingers and lean my cheek onto his shoulder when my face streaked with tears, hoping he’d turn around and comfort me in some way.
Sometimes when I climax, I listen to my body and try to understand how it happens, this way I can invoke it myself. I’m sure there are more ways than two to earn orgasms -yes, to me orgasms have to be earned. Like a prize.
Random bouts of impotence have been a problem. Without permission, I seek Hmong herbal cures. Drink this tea I’d say handing him a coffee cup, it’s good for your blood.
Maybe the fault belongs to me. I started an exercise regime. I set better health and more energy as a goal. I wanted to be me again, to have a career, a purpose, being more than just a student, being a woman. Not wearing make-up and gaining weight masked me, on purpose, to detour attention. Wearing a new dress, putting curls into my blonde-streaked hair, wearing gold eye shadow and lip gloss, I am me.
I look at myself in the mirror. Scars dot my belly where they made incisions to take out my abnormal left tube. In the shower, my scars disappear underneath the running water, where the water is comforting, where my hands are supposed to rub against my skin and body parts meant for sex. I am not a virgin, I’ve done it many times, to the same man, the only man, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way. My fingers stop, my insides don’t. Desires. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t climax alone in the shower again.
My long damp hair rests on my pillow next to me, in the dark. My hips, highest in elevation, beg attention, beg for male hands, beg for movement; I cover it with my blanket. I hold myself, embracing my torso like a person wearing a straitjacket in a mental ward.
I understand one night stands, affairs, aliases, whores, sex addicts. No, I have no idea, except yearning.
~~~
“You want to fight! I’ll let you throw the first punch!” He paces around between our room and the hallway, coming out and going back into our room. I hear his breathing and continued pacing. I sit at the desk chair facing the wall looking away from him, my back towards him. I did not park the car the way he wanted. We were at the library so that our nephew can return borrowed items in their drop box depository.
I look at the newspaper in front of me and try to focus on it. Instead, I think to myself, how old is he? He reminds me of the middle school students I worked with, those trying to instigate unnecessary reactions. I hear him punch the wall. I do not engage because the situation escalated over something so small. How does it matter that I did not park the car the way he wanted? Our objective was to return the items to the library. Because I chose to park how I saw best as the driver, it made him upset. I did not make the decision to park the car the way I did to spite him or to show him that I did not respect him or value his opinion. I was not trying to be insubordinate. Why does he want to fight me? Am I not his partner, the love of his life? I can see and understand that it could be a fun loving poke where it leads to an intimate encounter. Two people in each other’s space in want of close physical contact, even if rough to begin but ends up passionate and erotic, when touch is not just lust or an adrenaline rush because of being suppressed so long but touch because it is soul appropriate after iterations of waiting and preparing, countless deaths and rebirths both metaphorical and 3D physical, a soul-tie interaction where two souls are meant to intertwine in divine timing.
I do not engage.
~~~
I have needs and if we are not intimate I could get a prostitute to fulfill my needs. Let me know if you are okay with this. These are not his exact words but it is what he meant. Almost ten years together, and on the cusp of Valentine’s Day, this is our discussion. It is not a surprise that we have come to this. We sleep in separate rooms. It has been like this for years. While I am not surprised, I also do not say yes or no. My response is that I need to think about it. In July, we separate. In August, I pack his belongings for him to pick up.
~~~
“You are my mom and my dad. I don’t feel like a miracle around him.”
“Your dad did not experience what I experienced, all of the losses and trials with not being able to have a child. He only experienced a portion. For some reason, your dad’s ways of expression, thinking and remembering are distorted. I believe it has to do with TBI but he was not truly willing to embark on that journey of self help and self discovery. His thinking and beliefs are different from mine. We are opposites of each other. What little in common we have synced and brought us together. Our union was only meant to be as is, to bring about you and to teach us lessons. I do not know how much your dad learned but I learned a lot. You are also learning.
“What I say about your dad, those are my thoughts. You are entitled to your own thoughts, beliefs and interactions with him. He is your dad.
“Remember, my parents did their best according to what they thought but a lot of screwed up things happened. I made decisions that were not good, too. Part of being human is to make mistakes. But, from those mistakes, learn from them. Grow and evolve. We are meant to evolve.
“You are a gift and you have gifts. You do not need others to validate you. You do not need anyone to complete you. Any shitty thing that happens to you does not define you. Stop being so distracted. Find your balance and take care of yourself. Radiate love. Follow your intuition.”
___
*Some parts of Fragments, 6 are from my thesis. You can find my complete theses on the CSU Sacramento online library in the public portal domain titled AUB LUB NTUJ (DOG’S WORLD).
It was close to midnight and I was already in bed when I was fetched out of bed. My dad was being sent to the ER.
I don’t remember how much my little brother tried during this incident but I know my little brother tries his best. In knowing my dad, his preference is to have the most capable person help him, capable by his measures and for his benefit and comfort.
I don’t remember if I got to the hospital at the same time or shortly after my dad but I remember having to call my dear sweet colleague. I left her a message to pull out my emergency lesson plans for my students for the following day. Bless her beautiful heart for letting me know the next morning that everything was set, she had helped to pull out the emergency plans for my sub and the students. We had recently switched to being able to request a sub over the phone using an automated system, instead of the paper requests, which is so much more convenient when you have only just found out that you cannot go in to work the following day in the middle of the night the night before.
~~~
The nurse comes in and asks if my dad is hungry. My dad understands enough English and nods his head. She tells him she will bring him something to eat. She proceeds to check his temperature and blood pressure. Dad is willing and even seems to gravitate towards the nurse’s touch. The nurse notes his temperature and blood pressure and exits. A short time later she re-enters the room with a tray of covered breakfast items. Dad enjoys all of the food and saves the juice box. He drinks the water from the pitcher using a clear plastic cup.
~~~
The doctor comes in. Knowing my dad is not proficient in English, he speaks to me in advance so that we could convey the lab results.
“I don’t know how your father is still alive. These numbers do not make sense. I have never seen numbers like this in a living person. Somehow, your father is still functioning as he is. Lucky that he did come in and is getting treatment through his IV.”
“Txiv, thaj maum no hais tias zoo rau qhov koj tuaj cuag kev pab sai. Lawv tso koj li ntshav mus kuaj no lawv hais tias koj cov ntshav nyob tsis zoo. Raws li nws paub thiab ntsuas no ib tug uas cov ntshav nyob li no yuav tsum tsis zoo lawm, nws tsis tau pom dua li no.”
“Lam hais xwb, kuv twb nyob kuv li no.”1
“Txiv, qhov koj nyob zoo no yog vim lawv ntxig txoj yas rau koj sab npab thiab tso dej tso tshuaj rau koj, koj thiaj nyob zoo li tsis ua li cas.”2
Dad’s eyes and mouth expression let me know that he heard me but did not want to hear me. His eyes try to convince his strength and not his vulnerability.
“Your father’s kidneys are functioning at only 12%. At this stage he will be needing dialysis.”
“Txiv, thaj maum hais tias koj ob lub raum ua hauj lwm kaum ob paws xees lawm xwb koj yuav tau lim ntshav li niam thiab.”
Dad does not look at me or the doctor.
The doctor leaves. I sit in the lone chair quiet and not wanting to read but holding the book. I am getting hungry again. I am thirsty, too. I had not eaten breakfast. I did not bring any water or food. Even if I did, it would not have been allowed. Only cafeteria food is allowed in the ICU. I have my debit card but I do not know where the cafeteria is. Sure, I could find the cafeteria but who would stay with dad and be his interpreter if the nurse or doctor came back?
~~~
I did not sleep much at all last night. Instead I watched the clock. I closed my eyes and tried to rest but I did not sleep. The minutes passed by and my stomach stopped growling. I tried to read but I was only repeating the words in my head. Those same words on that page made no meaning no matter how much I tried to focus on them. When the story did not progress, I stopped trying. I don’t remember how many times I shifted my body’s weight to try to find a more comfortable position but that chair, with limited padding, no longer offered comfort.
~~~
The nurse walks in. “What would you like for lunch, Wayne?” Dad’s name is Wang Neng but they always say it as Wayne. Maybe there is a resemblance with John Wayne? Mom really likes John Wayne, amongst other American actors on American tv. I’ve never seen dad wear a cowboy hat though, a cap but not a cowboy hat.
“Koj hais rau nws hais tias nws nqa li cas los kuv noj li ntawv no.”
“Dad says he will eat whatever you bring for him.”
“I will have the salt and pepper packets on the side. He needs to watch his level of sodium intake.”
“Nurse hais tias nws nqa cov zaub mov tsis qab ntsev tab sis nws mam nqa ntsev thiab hwj txob thiab, yog koj yuav rau ntsev no ces kom rau me me xwb.”
The nurse re-enters with dad’s lunch tray, covered. The steam rising from him uncovering the plate. I don’t remember what it is, maybe some chicken and steamed vegetables. I remember there was a juice box. I remember he does not drink it. I remember him placing it next to the breakfast juice box.
My stomach does not growl but a juice box seems a good option. He does not offer either of them.
The nurse takes the empty tray away. She returns some time later to take more vitals from my dad. I watch dad’s posture and demeanor towards the nurse. Her touch seems angelic. Her touch seems to provide something his body is craving. It is not anything sexual at all, she is just getting his vitals but to my dad’s physical response it seems to relieve some hidden emotions or needs. It is not anything like she is his mother, that she is trying to nurture him but to him it seems he is a boy needing comfort. It seems he needs the touching as if to say that he is alive and still has feelings.
~~~
Sometime around 4:00 PM, I received a call from a cousin. Cousin’s plan is to relieve me if I need it. I was neither hungry nor thirsty when I got home around 6:00 PM but my mother-in-law took one look at me and stated, “Nyab es, ua cas koj yuav daj ntseg ua luaj li os, qhov muag tho tag li lawm.”3
___
Footnotes:
“It’s not true, I am fine as I am.”
“The reason why you are feeling fine is because they are giving you fluid and medication treatment through your IV.”
“Daughter-in-law, you look a fright, your eyes popping out.”
*Translations are not word for word but instead convey the meaning.
You say my name. You call me but you only want to hear my voice. You only want me to say hello. You cannot hold the phone very long. You do not tell me your stories anymore. You only want to hear my voice. You do not know what happened. You cannot see me. You cannot be here. You cannot say any more than hello to me either.
Kuv niam, you heard my voice when I said hello. Did you not hear the sadness in my voice? It is the sadness that you are not you anymore. It is the realization that you are a plastic egg filled with sweet memories, a shell waiting to be cracked open so that we can see what you are carrying.
Kuv niam, she disappeared without even getting to live. Like you, there was so much potential. She would have been like me and you but better. But she did not make it past 7 weeks.
The first time I miscarried, Kuv niam, you said that at my age at that time, you already had x number of children. Many of them died. You said that I should not cry because I did not
even see my child’s eyes like you had seen yours, those that died in your arms, not in your body. They went to sleep and never woke up, like just peacefully sleeping and not talking or singing or laughing. What hurt was that they were not breathing and colorful. Kuv niam, you were right, but there is something else, I am not you and I live in a time and country where technology and medical advances take place. Yet, I just miscarried again for the 4th confirmed time, an ectopic pregnancy. I lost the baby and my remaining fallopian tube.
Kuv niam, what would you have done and how far could you have gone if your mother did not commit suicide when you were a child, if you were able to get an education, or if you had married the one that you loved? What would you have done if you were taught that it is okay to speak your mind and that you have choices? What would you ask for, instead of money, if money is not an issue to you and dad? How many children would you have really had if none of them died and your perceived value is not placed on how many children you have? According to your stories, I gather things would be different. This is a conversation that cannot happen because of how you grew up, how you were treated, and because of how much tolerance you had to sustain to make others happy. Even when you were still strong and able to do things for yourself, you couldn’t hear what I was trying to say. Money is not happiness. Children do not define us or our success. Men do not complete women nor vice versa.
There is some comfort in knowing that even if you could be here, even if in your most sane and young self, you would not be able to help me much. I somehow already know what you would
say if you could. I can hear you comparing me to you. I could hear you telling me about some other female who is doing well because they are expecting their number x child. My one boy is not enough. Would you feel sad for me, for me, or would you feel sad for me, for you? Why do you and dad place your sole happiness, or worth, in the success of your children. And if our success makes your worth then why were we not invested in better? Food and shelter is not all it takes. What about emotional regulation, values, critical thinking, ethics, etc..
I like your stories, they are intriguing, but your stories are a different kind of dialogue. My fond memories of you are of your kind wide-gummed-smile, the way you watch me with proud eyes when I do something you are proud of, and when you sit next to me in comfort knowing that I will listen to whatever is on your mind.
What did brother do that made you want to hear my voice to calm and soothe you? I have always done my best for you, that feeling of comfort that I had always provided for you is what you miss, right? What did brother do or not do for you? Brother has always been privileged. You both fostered his hindrance for being independent. Whatever he did, you did not deserve it. Parenting is hard, especially when you have absent parents.
Kuv niam, you are not dead, but you are no longer living. My daughter is not alive, but she is with me. I imagine her often. I think about what I could say to her, how I would teach her, and what we could do together. I imagine that she would be her own hero.
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Some say I look like my mom. According to my calculations, her age in this photo is around the same age as me now, 46.
*This was written a few days after “Eulalia Lus Zoo,” a previous entry/post from years ago.
Wants. Needs. Distractions. There are so many distractions.
If you have been distracted then you are likely not aware: There is a new world consciousness happening.
Pause for a moment.
There was a belief that the world is flat. At one point, dinosaurs also did not exist. We now have automobiles and airplanes. Utilizing solar energy strategically has become a thing (not just for farming/agriculture).
We are transitioning into a new era, The Age of Aquarius.
Spend some time in the natural world. Pause. How aware are you of your subconscious mind? There is power in knowing the self better, in deconstructing limiting beliefs. There is an energetic potential from within that is not being utilized in the ways that matter.
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