took a train through switzerland today and once i got to the hotel i noticed some very physical stages of emotional wellness i endured through a very trying morning of travel as documented by my notebook in hand: from trying-to-distract-myself to just-plain-nervous to absolute-rage-and-frustration to trembling-hands to sad-but-at-least-plants-exist
i arrived to a blue sky and a bustling train station. strangers asking me if i wanted a taxi, the smooshed up croissant in my bag, the hoards of teens walking around in large groups for some kind of field trip(?)– they all reminded me that i was doing it again: blaming and taking too much responsibility for things i cannot control (other people’s feelings, the train schedule, the future re: that other person’s feelings, etc.). pockets full of wild flowers and a moleskine to scribble in; hand-trembling anxiety and tears- all came together today, and were probably meant to exist as so. neither one precludes the other.
insignificance, contradiction, turbulence– whatever you call it– it’s all a part of it. everything goes
today, i woke up feeling heavy, so i must remember these truths: im grateful for 17 hour days of sunlight and flying through cotton candy to get there. i’m grateful to see these sunsets from such a beautiful vantage point. i’m grateful for the music that accompanied me along the way. i’m grateful for being able to still see beautiful things and remember beautiful things- even if i wake up or lie in bed feeling heavier than i‘d like.
i‘m writing today because i want someone, anyone, scrolling through the lotus hotel that is social media and neoliberal self-care to remember that “good” and “bad” things (feelings, health days, thoughts, experiences) coexist regularly. i am writing today to pull myself out of the fog i faced this morning, after 4 anxious hours of sleep, to remember the small, but definite, joys that i should not overlook in the wake of any emotion.
i want to note, for my future self visiting this, that i am not reprimanding myself for feeling bad. nor am i guilting myself into feeling happier. i am taking the time to feel what i feel, wonder why i feel this way, figure out what is in my power to change and what is out of my control. i remember beautiful things and people and places and memories. i remember that these benign and banal pains will fade as i move forward. and i remember that this feeling is not a fate to fall victim to, but rather a feat to overcome.
no amount of tea and lavender baths, though they certainly do not hurt, can get me to the bubbling equilibrium of restful reflection and gentle self-awareness that i seek. one that does not tug me away from reality, nor shame me for taking up any kind of space (physical, emotional, psychological, etc.). i must get up and walk, breathe, and move; reclaim agency over this beast of a self-consciousness that i have groomed for 20 years.
it’s 8am and im going to go get ready for the day now. please rest, take care, and nurture your health (every aspect of it). love you
this was my very very weird frickin junior year in which everything i thought i would learn, everything i thought would happen, everything i thought would matter— quite simply did not at all.
i lived in europe? spent so much time with my family? met up w meredith in paris? my baby cousin graduated highschool? my mom graduated again? i still have a boyfriend? i changed my major...and i like it? i talk to a therapist regularly? i met maggie rogers (unrelated, but !!!!)? i was sadder than ever? i explored my immigrant history and filipino cultural heritage? i wrote songs away from home? i wrote songs that werent about love? i went to la for two bts concerts? i made burning and compassionate friendships there? i felt more lost than ever before? i was found in very weird places?
i guess this just might be how things are from now on. crisis making way for rapturous serendipity. too many tears, nights lost to them, leaking out horrible guilt and anxiety and fear? despair? confusion? but also great love. love that i take for granted too often. love that finds me on the other side of the world and sometimes love that i’ve never even met before. it’s a terribly awkward balancing act.
i began to write something melancholic and wistful about endings and looking (not searching) and letting yourself find and be found. but all i want to say is this year was absolutely absurd.
i want to dwell on absurdity moving forward, particularly for its hypersaturated neutrality. pain leaves only a shadow and joy fades into light, but the fountain of youth might just be gangly, quotidian novelty. and if i can embrace and immerse myself in the absurd, i might stay young forever.
happy summer. rest lots. and junior year please kiss all of my ass