Romantic Nonfiction

MM: Please tell me a JNET story.

JNET: Of what genre would you like your story in? :) Would you like to hear the JNET fairy tale story? the adventure one? the ???? one? Name it... and you will have a story :)

MM: Romantic nonfiction please.

A blog entry and exercise just for my friend MM.

ROMANTIC NONFICTION

ROMANTIC: 1. suggestive of the world of romance (jnetsworld is that and a bag of chips!) 2. characterized by a preoccupation with love or by the idealizing of love or one's beloved (living IS loving for a negativity slayer) 3. displaying or expressing love or strong affection (mwuah mwuah mwuah) 4. of, pertaining to, or characteristic of a style of literature and art that subordinates form to content, encourages freedom of treatment, emphasizes imagination, emotion, and introspection, and often celebrates nature, the ordinary person, and freedom of the spirit (JNET is INTJ) 5. of or pertaining to a musical style characteristic chiefly of the 19th century and marked by the free expression of imagination and emotion, virtuosic display, experimentation with form, and the adventurous development of orchestral and piano music and opera.... (What would Beethoven do? is JNET's favorite question)

NONFICTION: the branch of literature comprising works of narrative prose dealing with or offering opinions or conjectures upon facts and reality, including biography, history, and the essay

MM, here is my narrative imaginative introspective.

JNET has been romancing life. You can go through the archives. I've romanced over music; surrendering seasons to Debussy and Albeniz and writing about travels to exotic places around the world to taking pictures of sharks, hiking various urban meccas and diving out of planes.

I've studied tango and salsa but I REALLY want to study flamenco dance. I bought the special shoes and everything but somehow get pulled into social dancing circles that have nothing to do with flamenco dance. Salsa and tango are just irresistible flirts when its really flamenco that I have my eyes (or feet) set on. Meanwhile, I do dance and perform with Kayamanan Ng Lahi, a folks arts group of my peeps from my nick of the pacific. Rehearsal and performance are exercise disciplines.

Its all about writing, teaching the piano, and photography at the given moment. And my dance partner is LIFE.

What kind of romantic nonfiction is THAT?

In other words, onay on the oyfriendbay estionquay :)

I have my muse... who I call the mathematician. I won't write about him at this given moment but I do credit a good deal of my work through the years on account of his counsel and inspiration.

And who needs an oyfriendbay henway my orldway is urroundedsay by so anymay amazing riendsfay, amilyfay embersmay and ovinglay eoplepay?

There's a long story, you see. A good one. Life has me on the edge of my seat. I hadn't quite got the dance of work and true love down but the choreography is being drawn up. Just going for whatever I am going for will pan everything just right in its own timing or God's timing if we want to get specific here :)

Life definitely has a WOW factor over me. Every day has a sense of anticipation and promise. There are just too many coincidences happening on a regular basis that I am fascinated.... I am in a sense "romancing life" and sharing it with someone special is in the works for this happily ever after girl.

From the serene spartan world of the mathematician and imaginative world of candy wax cutie to taking a splash in a shark cage, I can't say that I feel like I'm missing something or someone in my romantic nonfiction story in the making. Everything is in place, I'm just working out my lines on stage and wondering how it all fits together - the future is in the making. May the force be with you as it is with me.

MM. How is this for a chapter of romantic nonfiction?

Cheers. Its a little bit more substance than JNET: single, social butterfly.

JNET

TOASTMASTERS: Securing the Good Life

If it is in man's heart to be inherently good, then why do we work hard to teach goodness? So many ways to say the Golden Rule:

Islam: "Hurt no one so that no one may hurt you."

Confucianism: "Never impose on others what you would not choose for yourself."

Christianity: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Ancient Eygpt: "That which you hate to be done to you, do not do to another"

I wonder if our idealistic notions over innocence and goodness undermine the mindfulness and practice it takes to secure a good life. Do we teach our young people to steal or do we have to teach them to not steal? Do we teach them to hit each other or do we have to teach them to not hit each other? Why do we need to teach people to not lie, not steal, and not harm one another? Perhaps goodness is not quite child's play.

Why bother with learning to live on purpose? There are books, retreats, seminars to attend toward securing the good life. Why so many breaths to ask, "Is this your very best you?"

What is good anyway? Isn't it the equivalent of being boring? Really now, is goodness a desired trait? Perhaps that is why we romance drama, sit on the edge of our seats for heartaches and make bets or cheer over knockouts.

Do we intend toward life going down or up?

Good Evening Fellow Toastmasters and Honored Guests. My name is JNET and I am presenting my 10th speech tonight titled Securing the Good Life. I hope to inspire you in my final speech completing the Competent Communicator Manual on this final month of the year, to secure the good life, hopefully keeping you on Santa's good side but most importantly your nearest and dearest good side.

Since goodness seems more like a practice or exercise as opposed to this spring of wonderfulness that just bubbles out of us, I will present securing the good life as a stretching exercise.

Everyone breathe. In... out. My first consideration for you is that goodness must begin firstly as an inside job. So breathe. We may have distracting thoughts in just breathing. I'm sure you have found yourself assaulted by them in your stillness. With each exhale, acknowledge that you can overcome doubts and fears. You are an intelligent and creative person created by an intelligence of which you are just a squeaky possibility that can go beyond just feeling and looking good. In this "breathing exercise" consider that you are not just a brownie point earning being but rather you are a vessel for the expression of goodness. Securing the good life begins with allowing the inside job of transformation.

Now everyone stretch. Stretching feels good. Doesn't it. How far do you enjoy your stretches in loving your life and the people in it? Stretching is a way to extend and connect to others. The good life does not come from sitting still and enjoying your transformation all by yourself. So we stretch and we stretch with purpose.

So is securing the good life as easy as breathing and stretching? How many of you exercise regularly every single day? How many of us still need to get those lessons our parents kept reprimanding us over? Don't hurt each other. Don't play too rough. Share!

We live in a world that likes to make fun of goodness and sensationalize badness. Securing the good life can get lost in your next distracted breath and from there we get too busy to stretch. Listen to your personal trainer, listen to your parents. Being on the team is a daily choice. Sometimes it may call for challenging choices like making a stand for yourself and preserving what you believe in. That can be very scary. Isn't it natural to want to run from fear and pain? Isn't that how we are wired?

Consider the ermine. This pretty animal's coat turns pure white during the winter. During other seasons its coat is brown and it is a called a stoat. In art, the ermine is a symbol of purity and the white coat is highly prized. But is this symbol of purity simply about its snow white pretty looks?

Hunting this creature down is interesting. It travels mostly alone and finds shelter in dens. Hunters look for these dens and coat the edges with tar or something sticky before chasing down the ermine. Why? Because when chased it will not go into its den where it will ruin its coat. The ermine will instead face the hunters, the dogs.

How many of us in this natural kingdom of ours face our aggressors? How would that set us apart? Breathe, stretch and make a stand to secure the good life.

JNET

Of Kings and Queens

I am thankful of the wonderful family I am part of. I am loved and I am honored.

Some families dread being together. Some families are flippant with one another. And some families find comfort in being invisible to one another.

But my family....

Arriving... whether to my mom's or either one of my brothers' homes or even my brothers' in-laws is always like arriving to a castle where there is celebrating. Sound out the trumpets!

My nieces call me Auntie Princess.

Life at the castle... the kingdoms built forth and fortified by my family and extended family is where I come from. Children laughing and running around. There is food celebrated as well as the persons who cooked or baked to be impressed with. Recipes are shared. There is entertainment, a movie watched together, pictures shared, a board game, my video of my dance performance in Acapulco... and lots of conversation woven through-out it all.

Praises towards achievements and encouragements towards goals peppered with lots of good humor is the way we spend our time together whether its the holidays or a random day together. Witty jousting always returns to a respectable close. Touche. And I notice that my brother never misses an opportunity to praise his wife whether in a crowd or in private conversation. NEVER :)

It is always nice to return home to the castle.

Shortly, I return back to my kingdom that I am building.

V: "JNET, we would love you to find someone like I have found in your brother." My sister-in-law is still gushing over my brother and they've been married for many years now.

JNET: "My brothers set the bar pretty high. I'll find my king in time."

Meanwhile, I mind my kingdom. I grow what I am blessed with and I protect what is put in my care. With or without a king, I am loved and honored because I am part of a kingdom.

And

I am Auntie Princess :)

JNET

At the End of Patience

I have been sick and bound to home for the past week. With fevers in the 100's and chills making me too dizzy to think, I was thankfully in the good care of friends who checked in regularly and brought me soup and good cheer.

A recurring thorn said its well meaning hello and then proceeded to tell me that I was a depressed and sad person that wouldn't be ill...

IF

I would just say yes to the universe for once to "love".

It always amazes me when someone insists in knowing me better than myself.

And this is a well meaning "friend" who promised to visit me and didn't even call when they knew they weren't going to make their appointment with me. TWICE. And this is a well meaning "friend" who criticizes the men in my life for not "taking care" of me when he himself had hired me for some freelance work many many many months ago and has yet not paid me.

I am unloading my well meaning friend now. If he is unaware of his promise making addiction then he is also unaware of my past willingness at forgiveness and patience which only comes from happy and whole people. I had told him as recently as this past month that I was willing to take on projects with him because I found his work interesting. I liked his friend and business partner, P and perhaps vested a good deal of trust on the goodness of P. I found others to work on GP's projects and liked the idea of friends helping friends' projects grow.

A sample of the promise machine's sputterings via text:

28/July Give me your account number. I will transfer money to you now.

Did not happen. I got this text poolside, on vacation. I gave him the info but at a later time... Meanwhile a bit of his life falls apart and he disappears for a bit.

5/October All is well. I will shoot you some money this week.

23/October I just bribed the studio to get me a check today. I know you need it.

28/October Thanks. Friday you get a care package.

Some people say that friends and money never mix. I say bad friends don't come through... whether its money or showing up to your birthday party. And well meaning doesn't mean well when it stops making you feel good about your friend.

This is my goodbye to GP, a once promising friend who became a promise making and breaking friend.

Official closing:

JNET: "I am cutting you loose, GP. I gave it a great deal of thought and thought it best. Good luck. P is a sweet and genuine and a good man (his business partner). Take care of yourself and your friends. Obviously, I am not one of them."

This was his answer.

GP: "We all do the best we can."

I am not inspired.

JNET

Reflections from the Garden

Everything was perfect...

Until God created women...

That's for the people who have a hard time dealing with women.

Everything was perfect...

Until God created mankind. The planet was clean and the animals were safe from becoming a hamburger.

That's for the people who have a hard time dealing with being human and having to live with other humans.

Take three...

Everything was perfect...

Until God was created. There was no war, no conflict and everything was absolutely rational.

yeah right.

How about everything IS perfect... end of confusion :)

JNET

Crushed Petals

My mother had a habit of saving flowers that had significant meaning to her. I would find the occasionally random flower pressed between pages of a book. It would be a nice surprise and mom would be happy to tell a story about the flower.

It's nice to think of loved ones through the little momentos they leave.

But what do we do with something the opposite of those pressed flowers?

Someone I was dating but did not feel ready to consider for a serious commitment decided to leave behind momentos that do not inspire warm feelings from me. Behind photo frames, he took the time to write hurtful commentary. And very recently, in my own computer, I found that he wrote a journal spanning almost half the year, complaining about me.

And yet, he gave me flowers and smiled and did things that made me feel very surprised to find his terrible thoughts calling me fearful and divided. He was also angry that I take all my friends to my favorite place, the Huntington Gardens because he wanted to call it our place. I've been going there for years with my family and friends....

And then he lists all the things he does for me and the sacrifices he made (though I did not ask) when he took care of me when I was sick. He wouldn't let anyone else take care of me, not even myself.

So instead of having sweet memories during this time while I take some time to myself, I have crushed bitter petals left to be found at random places as I clean and organize my space. In my private space, he did not leave sweet messages to linger over but rather bitter ones.

He left me home with his bitterness. In my solitude, left to wonder what it means.

And yet, he still says his hellos which I find hard to believe....

This is today's message from him:

Whether I'm happy or sad
Being good or being bad
I may be working or playing
Standing still or maybe dancing
It matters not what I do
I'm always thinking of you

Thinking of what? Of crushing my heart to his delight?

Here's a segment of what he left in my computer while taking care of me while sick... Something I never demanded of him....

"June 10, 2009

I had planned to go out and see friends. I cancelled my plans to take care of you because you were sick.

June 11-13, 2009

Still with you. Cancelled appointments and my weekend plans because I wanted to take care of you.

June 14, 2009

Missed the final Laker game. I missed church. All to stay with you."

I want to marry the kindest person I can find. I don't feel like my heart is safe with this one.... I'm sorry to find crushed petals.

JNET

The Sky Suns Me

Would the sky ask the flower to grow yellow instead of pink? Would the sky fault a flower's beauty as a bud? Would a flower find fault in the sky if it had too many clouds or too little?

How patient the sky and flowers are with each another.

If only people can be as complementary to one another.

I enjoy the certainty of love from my friends and my family... where conflicts are weathered as temporary changes of temperature that never destroy gardens. Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is as sure as the sun returning after a dance with the clouds.

"The sky suns me." thinks the flower as it breaks through the earth towards the warmth.

"The sky suns me." thinks the flower as it is a seed and doesn't know what it is.

"The sky suns me." thinks the flower while it takes the rain.

Even though it may rain, even though a cold day may stretch a spell, I'd like to feel the way a flower feels about the sky with certainly and affection... the sky suns me. And the gray sky will turn bright again. The flower lets the sky be the sky and the flower gets to enjoy being a flower; growing to bloom season after season.

Is there compromise in being here? Is there any lack of freedom here? Does resentment grow in gardens? Does the sun dream of fencing in the flowers?

Of many people, I think of love like the flower.... the certainty that the sky suns me.

JNET

Facing Sharks

I went on a shark dive while on vacation in Oahu.

M: "Were you afraid?"

JNET: "No."

I suppose it seems like an odd thing to do, getting into a shark cage in the middle of the ocean, considering that I do not even know how to swim.

But then, I did also jump out of a plane and I don't know how to fly.

How can I be afraid?

I knew what I getting into... a plane, a shark cage, the open sky, the ocean. I knew I wasn't exactly being a pioneer. Many others before me had enjoyed skydiving and looking at sharks. Some people loved it so much that they created the opportunity to enjoy these activities.

Though I didn't need to know how to fly or swim to enjoy skydiving or a shark tour, I trusted that no one wanted to deal with drama, dead bodies and lawsuits. I wanted an exciting experience. I wanted something memorable and something worth talking about for many years after that to happen. I wanted the "safe" and "thrilling" adventure they promised I would remember forever.

And I got just that, an experience that I loved, that filled me with awe and reverence, that was thrilling and will be something I will talk or write of for many years to come.

Is it worth the risk - this putting myself in the open ocean or open sky?

Is it worth the risk so to be present to beauty, awe and the sense to be absolutely in love with the present moment???

Risk doesn't have to feel scary. Risk can feel beautiful and delicious :)

JNET

TOASTMASTERS: Playing With My Eyes Closed

How many of you have played games such as "pin the tail on the donkey" or perhaps have been blindfolded to hit a pinata?

"I can do it with my eyes closed."

It's a simple and profound game which my students initiate. They close their eyes and they play something on the piano with their eyes closed and their head held up high. I watch them as they perform proudly.

But is this all child's play, playing pin the tail on the donkey, hitting down a pinata, playing the piano with your eyes closed? How many of you play with life and do things with your eyes shut?

Good evening fellow toastmasters, honored guests, and music students. My name is JNET and this evening I am presenting my 8th speech titled, "Mastery Within the Darkness: A Music Lesson in Seven Minutes. I will be demonstrating my comfort with using visual aids. But before I begin, I put before you a quote to consider as I speak and give you a visual journey,

"It is only with the heart that one sees rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye."

So how many of you "play" with your eyes closed? What is it to play in that dark space called your mind? Is it really fun? Or is it scary?

Like the deep end of the pool, so is learning to play and stretch your mind. You are beyond notes and staring at black and white. You are in your head and you are looking for the music in the dark.

What is it like? Well, you have no where to hide your mistakes while on a piano bench. I suppose you can pretend to yourself that you didn't hear that string of terribly wrong notes but most likely you'll press forward and play. And like those other childhood games, press on to get it right. Pin that tail, hit that pinata, make music and get the candy.

Mastery within that darkness in your mind is about playing a game with fear.

When I say fear I do not mean that emotional response to a threat. Come back to me, my student, we are simply on a piano bench. There is no need for your survival mechanisms to rev up. There is no threat of pain or danger.

And yet the fear of making a mistake may inspire one to not play at all or to play stilted.

You can't make music this way and playing Life in this matter will undermine your expression of yourself. Therefore, you practice, you know your material. You don't need to see everything but you need vision in your head and you master the darkness in there.

Playing does get easier with practice and you get move on to more advanced pieces where you still practice in the darkness of your mind.

It's an interesting place to play. How many of you cannot play a sonata? Cannot?

This is my recent sonata that I practiced in Hawaii.

I do not know how to swim but I played out anyway because I wanted to do some underwater photography. I hit a lot of wrong notes and got a lot of blurry pictures as well as bruises from the cage. But I eventually got these shark photos.

My conducting professor, Dr. Cokkinias always postulated..

"Life is about practicing; preparing."

And success follows when opportunity meets with your practice.

"It is only with the heart that the one sees rightly."

You don't need to see everything but you need a vision and start playing. Your heart will not be memorizing your mistakes; it'll keep your vision in sight as you plonk your way through the darkness.

"I'm going to play this amazing piece."

And you have a tiny keyboard at home to practice on. And you only have 10 fingers. That's where Beethoven is gonna come out??? Yes!

Well this is my camera; a humble though cute digital camera. What can I take with this thing?

With practice and this instrument, I've taken these recently at a photo shoot. I am surrounded by talented players. Who are believing in me despite my own personal darkness.

I do not know what an F-stop is. I do not know how to control everything perfectly. I play lots of wrong "notes". But like friends at a party, they smile and laugh, put the bat back in my hand and cheer me on to play.

Do you understand how playing with your eyes closed can be fun? And yes scary but worth every bit of practice.

Will you go now and practice with your eyes closed sometimes? Hold on to the vision in your mind as you practice.

And always, have fun.

Thank you fellow toastmasters and honored guests. Your music lesson is over. Go home now and practice and see you next week.

JNET

TOASTMASTERS: Composing My Life

DO YOU UNDERSTAND FORTISSIMO???

Maybe you do in the space of exciting measures where life announces joyful news, celebrates a win, or even sounds the music of battle and debate.

"I am loved!"

"I won the competition!"

"I'm right.. You're wrong!"

"No, IM RIGHT and YOU ARE A LOSER!!"

"LOVE ME! LOVE ME! LOVE ME!!!"

Fortissimo.

The emotions of happiness and the emotions of anger can also be expressed pianissimo and speak volumes about your gratitude for the blessings you enjoy or your pain that you endure on a prayer.

Fellow toastmasters and honored guests. My name is JNET and I am your music teacher for the evening presenting my 7th speech from the CC manual. My speech tonight is called Composing Life, a Music Lesson in Seven Minutes.

Leonard Bernstein appropriately said that

"To achieve great things, two things are needed; a plan, and not quite enough time."

How many of you know you have the power to create? Then in the musical spirit, I would like to pose this thought, perhaps you can compose too?

Can growing your music skills grow "an admirable heart" as the founder of the Suzuki method purposes?

What happens when you combine curiousity and a musical instrument?
[*bring out instrument]

Compare the experience with watching television. One brings about action in doing while the other fosters passivity. It does take a while to grow an admirable heart though.

You'll learn and care about something called technique through study and excercise.

If and only IF, you care to develop discipline and become an athelete that succumbs lots of hurdles... called YOUR MISTAKES. For you left brainers out there, that means you practice and practice to understand these symbols in black and white and terms in French and Italian until you make very little mistakes and make something beautiful. And for you right brainers out there, it means you practice and forgive yourself enjoying being able to learn from mistakes and love learning music for the experience of the moment while striving for accuracy. And isn't it nice that you are not condemned to be a lefty or righty when it comes to studying music. It's a matter of two hands and two sides of your mind creating TOGETHER to a level of craftsmenship.

Why would you want to develop skills in craftsmenship? It doesn't sound cool and hip. Are you making cabinets? It sounds like a lot of WORK and maybe you don't care to be craftsmen or a maestro.

Maybe you want to be a maestro in different ways? You want to be successful in your career or in your personal life?

Well did you know that Music majors are the most likely group of college grads to be admitted to med school? And a study of 7,500 university students revealed that music majors scored the highest reading scores among all majors including English, biology, chemistry and math.

What skills do you think you would gain from knowing what's going on in black and white in front of you? What hobby makes you study the details in black and white and yet gives you space to be creative to demonstrate your mastery? Where do you practice sustained effort in the space of mistakes? Just to express a melody as you imagined in your head?

I think Life will read differently to you if you all learned read and play music. And I wonder if you would enjoy and travel Life differently if you fed your creative and curious side with a musical vehical. I think you would seek out and follow the fine print in a different spirit from how you pursue other "fine print."

Like this...

Bach Prelude in D minor.....

Allegro moderato... medium fast ...non legato... but not connected rather disconnected... loads of stacatto.

Look at all these fast notes... woo hoo.... and all these get quiet and louder things to pay attention too...

So demanding... so specific..

And yet a worthy way to spend one's quiet time perhaps? You are just as demanding and specific as Bach is with your own life and dreams. How's your technique, composition and performance skills?

????

I end your music lesson now with a quote by Mozart.

"To talk well and eloquently is a very great art, but an equally great one is to know the right moment to stop."

See you again next week for your next lesson?

Thank you fellow toastmasters, composers, maestros and honored guests.

JNET

Rugged Angel: Ubi Caritas

“U-bi ca-ri-tas et a-mor, De-us i-bi est”

The notes danced in a cheerful six eight meter. Next to a cluster of medicine bottles, a small candle on the kitchen table was lit, a crucifix supported upright in a small orange juice glass and two women sang a hymn to a congregation of one, Ms. Miramontes.

“Con-gre-ga-vit nos in u-num

Chris-ti a-mor.”

I chose to sit silently in the back pew; the furthest chair at the opposite end of the kitchen table. My stomach sang along. It was half past noon and all that I had for the day was a communion wafer. I annoyed myself with internal chastising for not getting a good night's rest, not having breakfast and feeling frustrated that time with mother on Mother's Day was going to be with other people at other people's homes before making it to the family gathering at my brother's home. For two verses I growled with my stomach before getting reeled into the reality three feet in front of me.

“Exul-te-mus, et in ip-so lu-cun-de-mur.”

A plastic container in the shape of the good lady of hope with a blue cap stood next to the flickering candle. The blue cap was taken off and mom's church sister Miss Lori or "Auntie Lori," blessed Ms. Miramontes with holy water while she sat in a light orange floral flannel nightgown trimmed with white dainty lace. She was frail but proud; weathered but noble. She gave a quiet cough and didn't smile but was unruffled by her condition. She held an air of dignity. My mother continued singing and handed me a hymn book motioning me to join in.

“Ti-me-a-mus, et a-me-mus

De-um vi-vum.”

It was my second "Mass" of the day. The first Mass was celebrated at a high school gym where I sat on a riser directly below the score board with my brother and his family. Mom sat with the choir, a modest collection of young people mixed with the granny club. I didn't sing. I listened. I listened to my nieces laughter, the gentle reprimanding of their parents, and the choir. My brother's babies delighted in the sounds their feet made when they jumped up and down on the shiny court; the guitarist strummed a false chord and the game pressed on. The altar and priest stood centered in the three point area before the basketball hoop while the bulk of the parishioners sat in the perimeter on folding metal chairs. I was content and happy to be away from my Sunday routine of teaching piano lessons in Beverly Hills. I was in the southernmost part of San Diego. I could see Mexico.

"Keep Mom company at her appointments and help her to NOT lose track of time." My brother instructed me earlier that morning when I emerged from the guest room. I had restlessly sat up most of the evening and managed a two hour nap. So it wasn't a surprise that somewhere between the high school gym and the five minute drive to Ms. Miramontes' home, I lost track of that Sunday sort of feeling.

“Et ex cor-de di-li-ga-mus nos sin-cero.”

Thank God the hymn anchored me into the moment. I forgot my nagging stomach. I forgot about the family party that was waiting for my mother and I. And Ms. Miramontes patiently listened to a faster version of the Bible readings. She then assured us that she was fine, had been fed earlier and expected her caretaker to return. Mother's Day wishes were exchanged along with apologies for not being able to stay longer and we hastened from Ms. Miramontes' home to the next appointment where Sunday readings and Ubi Caritas was to be read and sung for the third time.

"Did you see the photographs of Ms. Miramontes? She was very beautiful."

"And still is, Mom."

"Should we call your brothers? We still have one last appointment. The next house might be a bit difficult in getting away. Mr. Rose likes to talk."

"No, let's just text them when we are close to the house. They already know that lunch is delayed. They'll call us if they need to."

Two hours of sleep, no breakfast, lunch delayed, a world away from Los Angeles returned to the old world where I am like a child once again, dragged around to Mom's errands.

"Peanut?"

"No thanks, Mom."

But I wasn't a child anymore. I had lost all my baby teeth, earned my driver's license, and held a degree. I could drive anywhere I want, sleep whenever I wish and enjoy the free will to eat cookies in bed.

But in my world of teaching, paying rent and figuring out the dating and marriage question while having fun with friends for late night meals and laughs, I missed that a cloth of arrogance and ignorance covered me. I had forgotten that I really wasn't a grown up. The people my mother spent her time with on Sunday afternoons were the real grown ups reminding me that I was still growing up. They were several decades ahead of me on the game of Life.

“U-bi ca-ri-tas et a-mor, De-us i-bi est”

My mother was right. Mr. Rose loves to talk. Upon entering his home, the eighty something year old puts an orange in my hand.

"Si-mul er-go cum in u-num con-gre-ga-mur:
Ne nos men-te di-vi-da-mur, ca-ve-a-mus."

"It is very sweet." He says in greeting, smiles and then disappears to retrieve Mrs. Rose.

"Ces-sent i-ur-gi-a ma-lig-na, ces-sent li-tes.
Et in me-di-o nos-tri sit Christ-us De-us."

The altar is set up again on the kitchen table. The holy water in the Mary container, the crucifix balanced in a small glass and the communion wafers are in place by the time Mr. Rose returns with Mrs. Rose. He wears a blue button down shirt with stripes. He looks ready for a stroll along the beach. But the furthest he likes to go is his garden. He likes to be near his wife. Mrs. Rose takes her place at the table in a cheerful red and white cotton gown with blue and red flowers on her collar. She's lovely and is also wearing a touch of lipstick. She smiles and gives me a hug right away and I sit down gingerly with the orange still in my hand.

“U-bi ca-ri-tas et a-mor, De-us i-bi est”

Mr. Rose recited the Bible readings as well as shared his personal insights during the homily. Mrs. Rose sat serenely through the service while her husband played pulpit from a recliner chair. He was very comfortable sharing how he felt inspired and moved by the words of the good book. We would've enjoyed staying longer to listen.

"Si-mul quo-que cum be-a-tis vi-de-a-mus,"

"Pardon us, Brother Rose." My mother signaled the wise man on his easy chair, "We would stay longer but it is Mother's Day, my daughter is here to visit me and my sons for the weekend."

"Not to worry." Mr. Rose gave an understanding smile and thanked us for humoring his thoughts with him.

"Glo-ri-an-ter vul-tum tu-um, Chris-te De-us."

The visit with the Roses came to a close shortly after.

"Gau-di-um qu-od est im-men-sum, at-que pro-bum"

The candle was blown out, the altar put away, oranges in hand and hugs exchanged.

"Sae-cu-la per in-fi-ni-ta sae-cu-lor-um. A-men."

Mother's Day lunch was celebrated with my two brothers, my sisters-in-law, their mothers and mothers-in-laws, and my nieces and nephews by three in the afternoon. We got caught up in a traffic jam on the way due to road construction closures. It was a good thing I accompanied my mom to her commitment. We never lost track of time. We sat with time. And time crystallized itself to a profound memory.

The table was still being prepared when we arrived. Everyone was very hungry but very cheerful.

JNET

SPEECH: Visualize Forgiveness

Sometimes I am so terrible with visualization exercises.

Despite several happy and successful past experiences at conferences and seminars, I am sometimes the girl that gets lost and falls off the visualization exercise trail.

(Prop 1)

I would be there... in my head... concentrating on the exercise... going through the landscapes in my mind... exploring how I might rub against my subconscious mind and then viola....

I'd miss a turn.

(Take off prop 1)

What was that word he said? Did he say stage or page?

It's not like you can interrupt and ask them to repeat themselves. Mind you, this is not a 2 minute skip through a garden type of exercise. It's more like a 20 minute hike across the grand canyon of focus.

And so, I would find myself off track because I missed a direction. I would be bumbling about in my head, trying to find that quiet place. But then find myself distracted and amused that a few individuals really got comfy in their quiet place and have started snoring.

Good evening Toastmasters and Honored Guests, tonight I will share what happened on a particular day when I didn't get lost during a visualization exercise. My name is JNET, and I present to you project number six from the competent communicator manual, titled "Visualize Forgiveness."

I was at the Wiltern Theater on a Sunday morning. It was a full house... so full that they didn't know where to seat me except at the front VIP section.

There I stood, eyes closed while I travelled through the ravines of my mind. The speaker asked that I bring upon the "stage" the various people that I had come to know. I don't know how long I dug in my memory. It was long enough to give me a sense that I was having a spree going through my mind. My thoughts were spinning. It felt torrential yet peaceful at the same time.

I grew my stage. Every family member, friend from childhood to the present time, crush, love, failed friendship, kind neighbor, teacher, mentor found a space on the stage.

And I was awed at the collage of people that made a mark upon my life... People that have given me joy, people that have disappointed me, people that made me laugh, people that made me cry.

I was no longer in the Wiltern. I was in this space called memory where I was directed to ask the question of those on stage if they stood for my personal evolution and personal journey. I had to ask each person and every person on that stage.

(Prop 2)

JNET: "Do you stand for my personal evolution and personal journey?"

ABC: "Yes."

JNET: "Do you stand for my personal evolution and personal journey?"

XYZ: "Yes."

JNET: "Do you stand for my personal evolution and personal journey?"

123: "Yes."

With each "yes" I became present to the power and delicateness of being human. Each "yes" excused the person from the stage and gradually I emptied that stage and became present to love.

But the best part had not yet come.

I was then asked to bring everyone back onstage and see the web that connected us. I saw them and the party of string that circuited between all of us. The collage of people floated like a dream.

I was then coached to sever the strings and set everyone free to move on to their own journey. And quickly I emptied that stage and all that remained was the litter of strings. I stood before a scene that I can only describe as devastating.

(Pull away Prop 2) I don't know how long I stood in the center of that quiet chaos. Slowly, pieces of the disarray faded away. To the right, the silly string blurs and fades into a black. This repeats to the left, above me, below me.. Blurring and a fading away to a darkness that is celestial.

In that final celestial darkness, a feather floated down and surprised me. One solitary, bright, white feather.

(Prop 3)

And I got what is was to visualize forgiveness.

Visualize forgiveness.

Thank you Fellow Toastmasters and Honored Guests.

JNET

RECIPE: Red Velvet Cupcakes

R: "Do not wear anything when making red velvet. You will ruin your clothes."

I've ruined my red velvets several times and though the red batter is intimidating when mixing, I've never ruined my clothes.

Despite mini disasters along the way, I pressed on with my fascination to bake a red velvet worthy of celebrating with friends.

I think it is fair to say that this will be an easy and dramatic crowd pleaser. I am not a "baker". I've made cakes that can do damage. I've baked bricks!

But the following recipe is what eventually succeeded in making everyone happy as well as this geek goddess.... inspiring someone who usually writes about art and life to write about... baking.

Put on the red apron... just in case.

DRY INGREDIENTS FIRST IN A BIG BOWL...

2 1/2 cups all - purpose flour
1/4 cup cocoa powder
3 tblsp corn starch
1 tsp salt

CREAM THESE INGREDIENTS IN A SEPARATE MEDIUM BOWL....

1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
1 cup buttermilk (room temperature)
2 large eggs (room temperature)
2 oz red food coloring
1 tsp vanilla extract

MY FAVORITE PART: Playing mad scientist ;)

Activate and add from a separate spoon BEFORE adding to wet ingredients...

1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp white distilled vinegar

Combine wet and dry ingredients. Mix well.

This recipe bakes about 18 cupcakes. I bake it at/around 300, 325, 350.

I told you I wasn't much of a baker. I check the cupcakes at 20 minutes. If they toothpick test well, I take the cupcakes out to cool and put them back in to bake an additional 10 minutes. They come out with a delicately crunchy top and are moist inside. This recipe is for someone who likes sweet but on a lighter note. It may seem that you are creaming a lot of sugar. It's not.

If you want to have more fun. I've melted chocolate bits into the center of each cupcake or added 2 oz of a caramel liquor for "flair." I'm sure you'll have your own ideas to play with. I've frosted and decorated with berries, with candies and chocolate shavings...

CREAM CHEESE FROSTING

according to personal taste

whipped cream cheese
butter
confectionary sugar

Enjoy! Let me know how your cupcakes come out.

JNET

SPEECH: Featherweights

My mother is the church lady; specifically, the Catholic.... church lady. And though I have had my respective rebellions with her, I adore her. She is a sweetheart and she will give you a rosary as a gift before saying goodbye.

And before our goodbyes are complete, she will remind me to pray to my guardian angel. To which, I reply,

"I don't have a guardian angel mom. I have a league of angels."

Good Evening, Madame President, Fellow Toastmasters and Honored Guests. Have you ever said hello to your league of angels? Tonight, I present project number five of the competent communicator manual, titled "Featherweights", sponsored by Gucci, Greyhound and Amtrak.

When I turned 16, my mother gave me a new watch. She has this thing about getting me timepieces at recognized milestones. I have a watch for my first day in kindergarten and a watch for college graduation. Aren't moms great? They come up with the best gift ideas.

So you can guess my reaction when I forgot my sweet 16 gift in the piano room and didn't remember it til after rehearsal... after several hours. I was a wreck.

I ran to the practice room. Nothing. I had taken it off to practice and had ran off to class without it and it was now gone.

Mind you, I had lost my physics book the day before and I have a mother that goes through the list. Your mother may have a similar list. The list of "things you have lost". I went through the motions of checking it with the music department head.

"Has anyone turned in a gold watch?"

"No."

This was duplicated at the school's security office and the lost and found department. I wrote out my details and returned to the piano room to cry. I was going to have to go home and tell my mother that I had lost my watch. I LOVED that watch more than my physics book, more than my senior class ring, more than the countless partners of earrings that are solo. It was gone and I was going to have to go through another speech. Those speeches didn't exactly engender closeness between my mom and I.

My mother and I are going to fight about stuff, I thought? Again? My thoughts were racing. I hate fighting. I'd rather die.

And that's when I woke up. It was a watch. A watch! And this list my mom had was choking me. I lost a watch my mother gave for my 16th birthday which I loved and I was going to have to tell her that I lost it. That's it. I had to tell my mom to drop the list because it was doing my head in. I didn't want "stuff" to affect our relationship. I didn't want to be afraid of gifts from there on.

And so I prayed and wrote my note to put up in the practice room hallway...

"LOST: Gold watch, if found, please return at Professor Russell's office."

I didn't have a chance to put it on the wall. While I was writing, someone wrote and posted a note in the hallway,

"FOUND: Gold watch, please go to the school office."

The last time I lost that watch it took a couple of months to find me. I lost it at the end of the D line.. the green line train to Newton which also doubles as the Greyhound station. By the time I had realized that I didn't have my watch on me, I was already in Cambridge to work for the day.

"You lost your gold watch at the train station? Forget it. You'll never see it again."

I got a lot of condolences and reality talks. That didn't stop me from posting up signs about my watch and talking to the desk person at Greyhound. Days passed and turned into weeks and further yet. I finally received a call on Thanksgiving morning.

"Yeah, I'm calling about your watch. I had found it sitting on top of the subway fare machine. I want to leave it for you but I don't want to leave it with anyone at the station. I'm going to put it in a blank package and leave it with the person at the desk. Can you be there within the half hour to pick it up?"

I retrieved my watch from a shocked desk clerk at the station. I came home with that watch for Thanksgiving.

It was a watch. That's why I got it. Right? Everyone has something they are sentimental over and if you put a sign up and say a prayer. You'll get it back.

Yes?

I recently was at the Amtrak station in Glendale on a Friday night. They don't sell tickets there. I bought my ticket to San Diego from Union Station a couple of days prior in planning a trip to my niece's birthday. Due to technical issues the trains were delayed and a group of us decided to take a cab to Union Station to catch the next train there.

In the scramble, I lost my ticket. The fellows who took the cab with me searched the path I walked from the taxi drop to the Amtrak desk and according to Amtrak policy, you have to produce a ticket to receive a refund. What a pain. I bought a second pair of business class tickets. That's another $100. I made peace with the inconvenience and figured that people have bigger losses in Vegas. Any bet placed on my niece is a winner.

You can imagine my surprise when stepping down from my return train hearing a voice call out my name. In what amounted to a blur of a moment, someone put my lost tickets into my hand and walked away.

So I have guardian angels... a league of them.

But I don't think angels are there to fix things. I think they are there to cheer you on to making decisions and confirm that things are perfect. My mother no longer gets wound up over lost things. The imaginary wedge between her and I over stuff was lifted when I made a decision to face her and tell her I didn't want material things to sit between us. Is there an angel of lost tickets and watches?

No, but I think there are some angels that teach goodness comes from nameless faces. Maybe you have similar stories.

Maybe it was you who was my featherweight champion? Hello :) then and thank you.

Thank you, Madame President, Fellow Toastmasters and Honored Guests.


JNET

Words That Speak of Power

Snippets that are floating on my mind from this past week...

"Every 40 seconds, a family forecloses their home."

"In the 1940's, 1 out of 16 people got cancer.... today... 1 out of 2 will battle cancer."

"The economic woes of today are forecasted to continue for the next 5 to 10 years."

"More downsizing to come..."

What is it to really have power in a time like this?

I watched a couple of dance videos this past week that humbled me. One was a salsa couple that had so much enthusiasm, that it was hard to believe that one of the dancers was missing a leg. He danced with crutches. The dancers' blog led me to watch another couple that astounded me to tears.

Do you know what I saw? I saw something absolutely beautiful that I was awed by the artistry, the passion and projection of a couple that defied being less than beautiful.

So is success to be measured by perfect health or the health of one's bank account?

H. from Toastmasters gave me some new words to kick around my thoughts... power words that were not of the indulgent "I-have-more-toys" camp, nor Trump "you're fired" tribe.

What about these words? H. presented.

"Are you okay?"

"How can I help you?"

"Are you hungry?"

At first glance, they seem like simple words. But, are they simple? Are we in a position where we have a bit of spare love in thin times? Have we been maintaining our soul's energy account that we can extend such words such intentions to someone else?

Who are these people that despite hardship, still have something to give to those around them to make a life a bit more light and perhaps the world a bit richer?

How would your thoughts travel if these snippets float in your mind...

"Every 40 seconds a friend comes to the aid of a troubled friend..."

"Share a meal with a friend - you may solve more than a hunger issue."

"How would life be if you just entertained dancing 1 percent as good as this couple?"

H's words hit me at home today while visiting my brother. The baby's are just beginning to speak. I was especially touched while struggling to the door with my luggage when the 3 year old looked at me intently and asked...

"Need help?"

She has barely began speaking and walking for that matter... and yet I got the sweetness of her question. She has a lot of love to spare and she wasn't thinking if it was strong enough to carry my stuff.

Her words speaks of the power and strength of love despite circumstance... The world is a good and powerful place if there are 3 years olds and older stretching out a graceful hand.

JNET

SPEECH: Sleeper, Awake

[Open with Reveille]

Madam President, Fellow Toastmasters and Honored Guests. My name is JNET and this is my 4th speech which I have named "Sleeper, Awake".

Do you remember making forts out of bedsheets, climbing trees: exploring?

Maybe you can still remember fascinations with caterpillars and a once unwavering belief in fairy circles. Money paid from the tooth fairy, M&M's melting color into your hand, and a sky full of stars. And maybe it feels like a dream away.

Does growing up make the trees less green as we worry about rainforests or does aging make sunsets undazzling by the constant repetition of days followed by another day? Is life an overwhelming influx of color and information that either bogs or bores one's attentions from thoughts to smell flowers and feel happy.

You'd rather smell coffee... Now THAT'S peace of mind to you.

Your days of fireflies and butterflies are now mad blurs of work and holidays. Does that cup of coffee really wake you up? Do you feel like an eternal explorer and this moment an adventure? Or have we fallen asleep? Maybe suffering in the silence of a noisy life. Lulla-lies; lulla-byes.

Some sleepwalk. Maybe many of us and we have bruises we can't clearly explain.

How do we best name a word that speaks of the trance of indifference or distraction that we find ourselves woken from? What is it called to be returned to mindfulness from the challenging yet sometimes dulling drama of life? What is it called to figuratively pace around in a half sleep arms outstretched but not feeling the wakefulness of wonder?

What wonder is there worth being wakeful of beyond the bliss of childhood? The world has war, greed and injustice. But what if you can be captured by your imagination again and look at the world with refreshed eyes?

[play "sleeper, awake", cantata 140, 4th movement]

"Sleeper, Awake!" Specifically the 4th movement of Bach's Cantata 140. Familiar melody? Sometimes played at weddings... it is a processional piece. With the chorus, the tenors sing against an orchestral counterpoint. It is a joyous piece, the text is a call to mindfulness. The procession is approaching ... Are you prepared to join in? This is different from hearing Reveille.

Allow me to be a tenor here bearing a message in the procession of life. Allow me to also share that I understand the rigor of life can be both exhausting and exhilarating. Are you awake?

Am I awake? I keep in mind, Bach's joy.

What is it to suffer from sleepwalking? In its observed clinical sense, the subject does normal things that one does when awake; cleaning, walking. Their eyes are open but their minds are in a different place. Memory fails due to an unconsciousness of behavior. Sleepwalking is more commonly experienced in people dealing with high levels of stress, anxiety and it can affect people of any age.The disorder can go unnoticed unless brought to the attention by someone else..

Sleeper, Awake!

Who here has dealt with stress in unwise manners and yet has climbed a tall tree and came down safely? In one situation there is a perhaps regretful fall and in another situation, a happy return to the ground for a further adventure.

Are we sleepwalking? I pose the question to give you a perspective to play with and Bach's, Sleeper, Awake as a lens. Are you bumping against things and not exploring? I don't think you've outgrown yourself. I don't believe being a sensible adult is to leave wonder for small children. Perhaps, we doze off sometimes.

Reveille is not the call I bring to you. I wish to wake up the dreamer in you in this procession called life. I will close with a few lines I wrote in a poem named, "Awake, Dreamer."

POEM: Awake, Dreamer!

How many times will you look at the blue sky
before you forget to notice it?

At what point will you say you are satisfied
with seeing enough full moons?

You have an imagination
that has built castles in your childhood...
What do you build now, Dreamer?

From a cry you now speak...
What have you to say, Friend?
You are someone with a story
and you are the hero in every one of them.

Awake, Dreamer! Speak, Friend!

Sleeper, Awake.... Thank you Madam President, Fellow Toastmasters and Honored Guests.

JNET

Peacing Myself

I am back to a practicing the piano routine, as well as a writing / blogging routine. I have a photography shoot coming up in a few weeks and my dance group is in hiatus.

I feel like last year was about painting this huge mural (figuratively). It is now 2009 and I look at the many things I did last year and think... wow... I suppose I was a bit of a mad artist.

My piano chops had some fun for a little bit with a spell of intimate concerts at home with a flutist friend who is also a salsa friend. Those little gatherings at home were accompanied with small dance parties . All that sound and music activity gave way to an energy to put into blogging and podcasting. I went a bit extreme in countering my interrupted podcasting life by doing a show everyday for a week or so.. tapering to three a week until dance rehearsals became demanding and coupled with technical difficulties; a break from podcasting was needed.

Quieter my life became... summer dance rehearsals kicked salsa off my plate... Being tired and physically not up for extra demands other than my yoga and pilates practice ... I even stopped playing the piano. My teaching practice grew... and grew. I have students in a flying pattern to return to a open slot.

My life once had space to think and practice. How did it get so full? What do I think about all of this overwhelming "fullness?" Thank God. What else is there to think? I do want an even fuller life... paint bigger murals (figuratively)... therefore, I am working out the balance.

2008 was a workout... physically, mentally, socially, spiritually, intellectually...

I didn't want to sit still in my free time. I wanted to lie down!

Mom was having her second surgery of the year and the demands were up there... I pressed on as I am compelled to do. I kept up with my photography gigs though - for that project with a friend seemed to be my quietest project.

I rang in the new year ready to embrace solitude again yet was happy to share the day with gentle spirit people.

It's week two. I was in a car accident (minor) last week. My car is dinged but I am not. I am settling myself down.

I am peacing myself. And wishing peace to you.

JNET

Odd, Honest, And Beautiful

Surely there must be others who are living a charmed, odd, beautiful life...

It's my flavor.

Other flavors I notice from friends,

....loves individuality and being outspoken.

....loves being supportive and quiet from the sidelines.

....loves the obstacle of stressful events to manage and hopefully win over..

One can be loud, another quiet... another an adrenaline rush.

What's your flavor?

JNET

I Care For No Opinion

It has been brought to my attention several times that I really ought to watch my thoughts and how I express them.

E: Why don't you ask R for his opinion?

JNET: If R has something important to share with me, I think he would've shared it by now. Perhaps he trusts my judgement.. And if I really cared for his opinion I would've asked by now.

HA: Stay with safe topics and be agreeable. Things will be easier for you, if you take my advice.

JNET: You're the only one that seems to have a conflict with my ideas. I don't think you really understand me.

HA: You are naive and idealistic. I think I speak for several of your friends. I don't want to mention names and its only for your own good. Get in step.

The above is a simple collage of a re-occuring theme. Expressing one's self... even out of compassion and truth doesn't always make perfect landings on everyone....

But what if the majority of the people who know me would've never made the conclusions that a slim minority does.... should I change the way I am so that I can attempt at winning 100% ? Should I have to second guess myself and wonder if I've made the acceptance line after I've met a goal that I am happy enough with?

It is one thing to make special arrangements... like making sure your vegetarian friends are happy guests by preparing something special for them. But in the party of life, I don't think anyone has the right to tell the host how to entertain.

Can a guest tell you what you should serve or how you ought to dress and what you ought to talk about?

How would life go if we lived all on the opinion of the loudest complainer of the crowd? Wouldn't you have to change everything with each different place you encountered?

In the end, it only seems to make sense to be myself. I care for no opinion. I don't mind listening and settling out misunderstandings. But to change myself simply due to an opposing opinion.... I see no sanity in that.

Would you change yourself if I told you...

I don't understand you. Be like me and I'll accept you and so will the rest...

Ahhh... how the "voice of friendship" sometimes speaks....

JNET

PHOTOS: Happy 2009 :)

I danced into 2008 with reckless abandon. By Spring I was ready to return to the comfort of myself and quiet...

I got so quiet that I took a break from writing, salsa dancing, podcasting and playing the piano. Its now 2009 and the most important place to me is the quiet that I find in my solitude.

To begin writing again...

And being myself again...

The borders of jnetsworld have stretched to new horizons. There are not enough words to express who I am now. But perhaps in pictures....

Snapshots of 2008...


My solitude found a family. (above: E, C and M)

My place was no longer only about my music and rehearsals. I danced for pure enjoyment to be with my friends to laugh and play. I am normally not as social as these three have drawn me out and stretched me. These three created the salsa dancer I am today... all great teachers, technique perfectionists, and friends ... who have made permanent marks into my heart and soul.. as well as a permanent home in jnetsworld :)

I learned how to make art with flips of laughter somersaults of silliness. I didn't miss my solitude. I didn't miss writing. The world fell apart in little ways with tiny dramas along the way... like disagreeable roommates... not having enough students. But I had my loyal friends and an energetic front line.

Spring 2008 was a wild garden. Jnetsworld was LIVELY and growing.


Work and play came to a new level. And salsa opened to expanding my love of photography. C was working on a friend's project and together we had good work chemistry. In turn, pulling the volume down on salsa and working me to a balance. I took lots of pictures... and I still didn't miss my solitude. Podcasting went on break... blogging went on break... new connections and roads were made.


My world of notes and words expanded into color. Friendships grew into creative bonds and projects were born. Jnetsworld's art is part of so many other worlds. So many new friends came into my quiet world this past year...



"Facebook ME." Became the hello to people that impressed themselves upon me.

Salsa dancing evolved to an at-home-only-with-friends activity. I danced only at KNL rehearsaI, saving my energy to concentrate on performing at the Ford. I had 6 hours at least of rigorous dancing during the hot summer months. I attempted podcasting but hit upon so many technical difficulties with the computer, phones and headsets.

I was writing and podcasting... but in my head and drafted thoughts collected in my archives... or became canned. The Ford performance was a sold-out success though.


Beyond dancing and photography. I sought to speak beyond my blog... beyond podcasting. I stepped away from my safe internet world and joined Toastmasters. Again, stretching myself away from solitude. I missed practicing the piano. I missed writing. But I was up to new things.


The question came up often....Where is my writing and podcasting? Where is the mathematician? I once blogged to document life. But I got caught up in so many different things and a mulitude of thoughts marched through my head... but I never sat down to really tie them down with my words. And a certain sensibility left me. Where did I leave my words, my reflections?

All on the backburner... Yes, I felt that tinge of "missing" but I was on an adventure that I know will lead me back to home.


In the space of new friends, my royal court of friends who have been with me through the years grew with me Thoughts were sorted through quick text messages. I am still so busy that the best way to reach me is via email or text messaging.

Busy with my work, my projects, my rehearsals, my friends and then of course ... my family.

A family with nieces and nephews... many brand new :) A family of brothers and sisters in law... a family with a mom who had two surgeries and a year of physical therapy. 2008 was intense and beautiful in the family front.


And it made me wonder....

Can I do all the things I love to do and build a kingdom for myself like my brothers??? I stretch my thoughts on salt shakerhood as I flirt with couplehood. I could be happy with work and solitude... and I could be happy in other ways too. I learned to look beyond that world called friendship. Through dance, someone wanted to show me a glimpse of the possibilities in his mind.


Love and life always teaches...one to grow... I am having a good and terrible time figuring out how my dreams will look like in the future...

I know I can always be happy with my world as it is... Full of friends, family, love, fun, adventures in work and play. That I still think of solitude and I think of me.

It is 2009... I am back to writing... and shortly to podcasting....

The mathematician did return .. by the way...after I shared with him the vision I was growing in my world, he thought it was a good time to say hello.. I have a couple of hellos on the go :) My mind is spinning with wonder... I can only hope to write more often to make sense of my world.


What makes sense for my world is the continuing journey. I am still playing with my color, with my music, with my words and with my dance.


2009 is going to be lots of fun...

I love watching life unfold. It's beautiful... isn't it? Happy New Year.

JNET