i write to believe.

Somewhere in a distant past I was a writer of stories.  I love writing short plays.  In my lifetime I can say that I was happy with writing 2 short plays and 1 full-length originale musical (for church).  I don't know why I'm finding myself looking through old pictures of these moments today but I have been wanting to do it again.  To create and breathe like this again. This short play was called "Maybe I'll Find Me".  It's an interpretation of Jungian archetypes.  We were asked to do something creative for an elective in business school called "Creativity and Intuition".  This class was meant to teach us to tap into our creative intelligence so that we can be more wholesome as leaders.  I wrote this short play with 6 different archetypes in mind and one main character.  The play starts with a song sung by the different archetypes and the Self.  The monologues show the different struggles experienced by the Self as manifested by th...

In a few days I will have turned 34.  I do not know what to feel about being 34 yet.  It feels too old and yet I feel so young and inexperienced in many things.  I feel that I have not explored life enough and for the most part of it, they're spent cooped up in a cubicle of gray walls.  If someone were to ask my what my birthday wish for this year was, I would know what to say.  I'd probably look through the list of deliverables I have for work or the list of prayer intentions I receive in my inbox.   This has been my life.  And I have learned how to live with it and find meaning in every space there is to catch breath.   It's become very private and very solitary.  I share thoughts with only a few people.  I can last only a few moments in casual conversations.  But I can spend hours listening to someone's pain.  I can spend days absorbing someone's burden.   I always keep wondering about my life but I never really look...

The whole introspective and creative process is not complete without spiritual illumination. The act of "listening to the work" arises from the openness of a soul to receive the soft promptings of the Spirit. I find myself resonating with Rachel's post of late as she gathers archives of her own spiritual journey in 2008. How incidental, I posted a comment on her page that I was doing the same thing just last weekend. Sifting through my writings hidden and in public. Turning pages of old journals and understanding myself a little bit better. Allowing myself to sit through the process of God creating and transforming me in these circumstances. She writes, In this season--despite the "not-knowing," the pain, the fear, and the frustration--I can be grateful for so much. I am the daughter of the Creator of the universe, who guides my life with tenderness and compassion. In a way that I will never completely understand, He loves me. Yes, He loves me, despite th...

I am up early updating Facebook discussions about this art foundation idea and quite enthralled really by the articles I have been reading about Artists for Humanity. Susan Rodgerson hits the nail on the head. I have almost the same vision as hers except I am coming from a different angle. In one article she says, "I wanted to use my love of working with youth to empower them through the same process that had empowered me." It's amazing how resonating with somebody can do for your own liberation. Anyway, I have posted on that FB discussion a response to Rodgerson's viewpoint saying, "I was disempowered from a process I knew empowered me. I want to reclaim this empowerment because I know what it feels like to live without it and protect this empowerment that I knew inherently belongs to young people at a stage where they are at their peak in creative development." The impulse to create again comes alive in this very small unearthing of possibilities provi...

I'm picking up momentum by looking through models of these art foundations that I know already exist around the world. But so far I have not seen a model quite like Artists for Humanity that captures exactly what I feel is an unattended need in my own country. Seldom does the need for art get recognized. Intangible things like this always end up in the back burner. Things that move society like art, philosophy, faith are dealt with in a passive way compared to economics, investment, or business outsourcing. But there seems to be a new uprising of corporate social responsibility initiatives in the area of environmental management. Talks on sustainability and development are slowly being heard because of the extreme experiences of climate change. Could there be some kind of awakening? A different kind of renaissance? I would like to think so. In the attempt to slow my mind down and get ready to hit the sack I think about this talk by Susan Rodgerson. I let it sink in. Reso...

For the past 5 years I can say that I have experienced this great writer's block which I have already admitted was a self-imposed one. Trying to get out of it is quite a feat. I have problems with getting myself organized when it comes to my creative process. I want to write about everything. And I end up not writing anything at all. There exists this tough inner critic that I have not been able to silence for a very long time. Of course repressive tendencies will always lead to an excessive burst of impulses when the time comes and I have been haunted by these impulses. They beg to be paid attention to. So I am here a few minutes before afternoon break is over. Getting myself into the zone of writing. Talking to myself. Listening to myself. Asking myself, "What is it that I really want to say?" I've been spending an average of 1 hour just trying to get comfortable about blogging. It's crazy. It is the first time I have ever felt conscious about what...

(via allthingsmustpass) He knows what is wrong with the world. He sees it. He weeps for it. He cries out for it. He wants to come and restore it. But He also sees that one girl who still needs to know of His love, that one boy who still needs to know of His truth. He does not want transformation out of guilt, out of shame, and out of living a mundane life. He wants gospel transformation. For truth to be revealed, for love to be real and constant. And that is the God we worship today. A God whom we have not chosen, but a God who has chosen us. It is significantly important that I let these words sink into me this morning. For the past few days I have been trying to sift through all these feelings and thoughts that tell me about who I am and who I should be. What I want and what I should be wanting. What I should be doing, what I am not doing. It goes on. This list of standards that I desire to embrace with all my heart. But there are times when, I just don’t completely get it. I do...

I was excited to go home last night with the intention of figuring out what theme I finally want this blog to have. I spent about an hour just trying out everything and ended up with a headache that I failed miserably to journal what I wanted to journal about listening to Amanda Palmer’s song Half Jack for about 5 times. Mornings are for work. Night’s are for serious introspective stuff for the soul like praying and writing and figuring out what’s hidden in the cracks and crevices of my heart. Why some of them feel like clutter and why some feel like good finds from an afternoon of spring cleaning. Why does it feel like I’m only looking at myself in the mirror for the first time? Most of the time I spent reflecting on myself always ended up in a laundry list of sins that I have paid the price of shame for. Seriously. I’ve had my time with guilt. It sent me to a 2 month silence and the life of a forlorn hermit. I gave up social living because I said I couldn’t hear God ...

I am experiencing this insane impulse I call hunger to just get out. Okay, so I have been in this identity crisis for the past 33 years. I’ve jumped from one identity to another until I finally found peace of finding my true form in Christ. But what does that really mean as I live my life in this world? Bombarded by standards day in and day out the Christ-like identity gets shoved in a pile of documents that are marked: first priority. Sifting through them there’s the “Parents legacy before they die” or ”The policy of keeping yourself together at work” or “The first commandment is to respect your elders” or “The first rule to inner peace is keep your passions on hold”. Hold back. Hold back. That’s what the voices in my head say. They reverberate day and night in ever changing decibels and I have to admit, it’s slowly driving me mad because all I ever knew how to do eversince I decided to follow through true path of faith is to hold back. Does following Jesus mean holding back? ...