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It’s been so difficult to find motivation to do my routine. I make myself go to the gym but after 8 minutes my run turns to a walk and I do maybe half. I know I’m brooding, magnifying concerns, trying my hardest to be strong and allow logic to steer the situation, but it’s not working.

Calling home to tell my family that I’ll be in the hospital for three days for major surgery was not easy. I had already cried my eyes for a day. They know how much I hate hospitals and surgery. I sat and looked at my wall for three hours the day I got the news. The only way I’ve been able to smile is to laugh at my own situation. I have three benign lumps with the biggest being 5cm by 4cm, the length of my index and the width of three fingers, on the uterine wall. The myomectomy will require four abdominal incisions and two weeks rest time of no walking. Not only do I have my reproductive health to worry about but now the knowledge of being physically helpless against a world I have always ran to tackle. There is a part of me that wants to lash out but I know I am as fragile as any human being. I don’t like feeling this way and thousands of miles from family. I have to be strong for myself. I have to maintain my usual routine so I don’t let these feelings of despondency, anxiety or anger grow.

I think, “Well, if uniballer Lance Armstrong wrote about his experience to cope, why can’t I?” I don’t want to play the victim nor do I want to be on the defensive. I can already hear my grandmother’s medical explanation that it’s because I’ve chosen to stay single. Women of all ages can have these problems with genetic disposition being the number one overwhelming cause. This isn’t something I can explain, confess or apologize for. Uterine myomas are slow growing masses that are responsible for the added hormone levels and painful menses experiences of females. Looking for information on the internet, many women have reported that myomectomy was not a procedure strongly advocated in the states due to the fact that not a lot of doctors practice it and the insurance prefers a full hysterectomy instead. Even the thought of a four day stay at the hospital for 2 million won is nowhere near the amount I would pay back home with insurance.

Through laughter, anger and anxiety, I know enough to be thankful that I’m in Korea.

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I finished my 4-5 hour first of the month phone marathon to friends and family. Until next month, my life outside the classroom will be silent. A conversation echoes in my mind, “I bet you don’t write poetry anymore. I think you’re too busy for that.”

Is it the end of my season as poet? The last poem was over two months ago. I can blame the academic literature for my classes as much as my solitude. Honestly, it doesn’t bother me. Undress a poet and you find a philosopher and just as there are times for rowdiness and libations there are also times for reflection and work.

I sometimes think about my ex and how much I loved him. Yesterday was the first time in a year that I dreamt him. Every once in a while, I hear from his daughter and I smile remembering how much I loved that girl and still do. I don’t answer any correspondence, though. It’s enough to know that I influenced someone positively, learned about myself and felt love.

My time in Korea has taught me that much like learning, emotions come in packets. It’s the simple quiet days where you can shed a tear, comprehend and hug yourself. It has taught me that though I make plans, the Lord leads our feet where they need to be, so change of plans is not bad at all. I’ve come to define myself not by others, not by the adversities I’ve faced, not by fear, but only through myself. My strength is only as good as my soul that manifests in the words I speak and write.

So is this the end of my poetic era? I’ll probably be senile before I’d admit to that!! Come next August it will be the end of the journey I begun 2 years ago. Today are silent preparations.

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It’s the fate of the oppressed to always know their oppressor’s far better than they know themselves. After all, how do you define white without black. There is a third category that can best be described as the infinite amount of detailed missed on a black and white set. I have learned to recognize these people not by their propensity to run from black and white reactions to calm informative options.

Every one serves somebody. This can be called servitude, job, or marriage. In the end, it’s just the knowledge and fact that we are all interconnected. No war is waged individually but if only one can shine, the rest should be rewarded fairly. I wish I would have understood this at a younger age.

Once I understood this great “servitude” role that society asks us to play, I started looking at potential mates with the question of are you worthy of me and will you be as loyal and unwaivering to me as I will be to you. I have found that it is difficult to cut someone off and educate at the same time. I have found that allusions of shortcomings will fall on deaf ears on those that see themselves before they see me. I keep the company of those that listen and view them with respect and benevolence. I have found that my time has become more valuable and I must remind myself to be compassionate at all times. I found that the quality of my friendships have significantly increased though I remain single by my choosing. I have found this increasing need to be the best ambassador through my actions alone of my faith, community and teachers. I found I am stronger by acknowledging how weak I am.

I see interconnection opposite of the current banking crisis. The blame falls on many. How many executives will plead like a divorced Hollywood wife that they should be allowed to keep up their lifestyle? How long do I have to see the decline of my savings and hear that? I watch a 40 year old mother help her mother in a walker into the sauna. Ten percent of me I keep to love myself, the rest belongs in service to honor those I love. I wish that this would be a requirement of those in higher power, perhaps this could have been avoided.

I use to think of money as a negative sign from a person. Too much worrying is a sure sign of greed, for what is perceived in scarcity anyone will horde. Too little worrying, meant foolishness or a rich family background. A friend pointed out that a “money-less” society is unattainable because someone will always want to take more than their share. Money is a human made instrument to limit greed like a rope is to gallows and ships. I have since changed my indicator of a person from money to compassion.

I like and show my philosophical side the older I get though I take to silence in public more often. I also like this in my writing. Liking one’s self is important.
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“Strange thoughts are much like hangovers: you feel better without them…” –C. Bukowski
“It is better not to bring up daughters. They are a blemish to the family name and a shame to the parents. The eldest daughter is special.” –Hagakure

The India, Japan, and China albums have been created and Houston has been updated. Just click on the image above and go to my flickr account. Sorry but organization of over 3k images takes time.

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My friend once told me to be la clau, la che. La che? This is short for a string of Spanish curse words that can be summarized to have courage no matter what. So when I saw this on Gunfighter’s blog, I thought it was a good opportunity to get to know me.

I am : Honest, strong, loyal, philosophical, writer, dancer and lover of life that’s traveling the world and enjoying life to the fullest. I would add opinionated, but it is not an English word.

I think: That the easiest thing is to hurt yourself and the hardest thing to do is hurt others. It’s a sign of maturity to understand that hurting yourself is the same as hurting others. I think humans are essentially good inside.

I know: That the present is a succession of moments from the past but if you continuously live in the present, no one will like you.

I have: Tell me the frigg’n truth or I’ll choke you attitude…sometimes a little high strung

I wish: I could enjoy my high school smoking body again and not have my desires limited by cash or time….hmmm, all those sexy shoes

I hate: When I get hit walking on the sidewalk because people don’t know how to drive…road rage.

I miss: Colombian food. Though I am figuring things out through alot of trial and error, I still can’t cook my grandmother’s beans!

I fear: a single future, the destruction of the Earth and a heart made of stone

I hear: the song of the mountains on fall rainy days and the rustle of the reeds from the rice crops.

I smell: everything. My nose works very well.

I crave: the security of a good partner.

I search: the truth and my fourth degree black belt in Seoul.

I wonder: how I would be if I had gone into the military when the chance was offered.

I regret: not marrying my second love, JD, one of the best relationships I’ve had. Too bad hindsight isn’t foresight.

I love: Tom Waits, dogs, my friends, my home, me…everything that has transparency, intent, honesty, love and purpose

I ache: from running a 5k on 35 min, but it’s not like the aching is gonna go away, I gotta hit at least 20 min.

I am not: dishonest.

I believe: In the saving grace of Christ and the code of a warrior

I dance: like people say praise be to Christ. I love dancing!

I sing: only when I really have to and working on learnign a couple of Korean songs. I love “el rey.”

I cry: when children are born to parents who obviously do not want them, have the ability to take care of them and/or give them unhealthy bodies to start out their lives. I’m not sure if I cry or want to slap someone here but it feels the same.

I fight: great when provoked, but why do you want to see me that mad? Make love not war.

I win: 50/50…I don’t feel massive enough to conquer ground technique

I lose: my temper and volume with apathy and injustice. Hey, I’m making up for at least 5 voices that don’t speak and should.

I never: want to be unloved, poor enough to starve, stop thinking, contribute to society, writing because that’s how I make sense of the world and talk to God, have scabies again or loose my self pride.

I always: try to get 8 hours of sleep, and love the days when it’s 9. My insomnia is going away but there are always about 2 nights from the month when my mind gets the best of me.

I confuse: I confuse my family lots.

I listen: to the silence of the mountains and love the fact that when people talk to me their words are measured. It feels like the language of God, the transition from a dream and the logic of men.

I can: teach simply because I can learn. If I tame my impatience, I am the best student in the class. This doesn’t mean I am the most intelligent; I do not catch on instantaneously, but I hang on like a crab to raw chicken.

I am scared: of doubt and loosing the spell check function

I need: LOVE

I am happy: when I am with friends, dancing and living life to the fullest

I imagine: circumnavigating the world for a year or two on a racing yacht team.

Your turn.

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Traveling feels like this huge limpia to the soul. The Universe takes my soul over rocky river washboard and starts sifting all impurities without the thought of pain. The smell of sacred ruda in the background to get what’s not purified by water. My departure full of fear, My trip an uncertainty to plan. My return a peaceful graceful calm that says I want to do it again, admiring the world just like God asks everyone to.

My friend thinks that all these journeys are part of myself that are asking exploration and attention. Other friends tell me, “You’re running away. Come back to the people that love you and the community that you can contribute to.” I feel like a hydroponic plant suspended in the air. How can I argue from there that I do have roots, that though they don’t touch the ground they can hear from me within 24 hours? How can I say that from above I see the word community different than you? How can I let you know that rhythm of life will continue even when I get back from flying around the world and everyone will be the same and soon they will forget you stressed by financial and familial duties, but you will never forget the world? The world is huge and the opportunities to explore it and yourself are infinite.

My favorite memory of India, this woman I never met. It’s so easy to spot the beauty when you come from the outside and so many things people don’t tell you but they forget when words are so important. She is so dark and bright, peasant but rich, happy but self aware. When else would I get to see this moment? This mix of emotion and richness of color to match it? Sometimes I wonder if people see the same when the ask me, what part of their country I’m from.

I think about how I see India, the big city cauldron of steaming heat that mixes the smell of human drama into condense squares, to the quiet country prasing everything in their quiet being and home to Krishna. I see my hands in praise and beauty, with henna or like hers with different finger nail paints just to celebrate she can. That is India. This is me.

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I love traveling.
The fear of the unknown with the comfort of being alone. You have no one else but your self to depend on.
Some countries make me nervous. Today I’m at ease. The boat skims over the water, cutting through choppy ocean with like fresh cheese cake in covert late night indulgences. That’s how I know I’m meant to be here.
I use my book like a journal and even before I’m finished mix feelings arise. Do I want to say read me, know me, don’t forget me, I matter and sign it? Do I acknowledge that I am a small in the microcosm, not much different than the Russian behind me, the Korean beside me, the Japaneese im front me, and not sign it? Just…read me, let me get inside your skin. Are you looking out the window feeling lost or awe? Do you wonder about my thoughts like I do about yours?
I think about the man I gave the candle to hold and the one I dropped and burnt all existance of. Both the best lessons I,ve ever had. I regret not having the maturity to keep that great relationship just as much as loving someone more than my own skin. One taught me to keep on course and self reflect often while the other taught me mitigation of emotional investment. So, I look at this overcast sky ready to make it pour and wonder how well I can navigate a gray area. I let the tides rock me to sleep where ever that may be as the evening clouds over the Japaneese coast line smile at me. How odd that traveling makes me loose all the feelings of uncertainty, regret or fear. You are where you’re meant to be even if you don’t know where you’re going yet. I leave my email on my thoughts. Can’t wait to see the city lights.

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The river’s response to the death of Narcissus’ “I weep for Narcissus, but I never notice he was beautiful. I weep because each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.” –P. Coelho

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