Hey there!
It's me. Ngoc. With episode 3! Let's get right into it!
BUT ACTUALLY.... Let's not. Why? Because our lives are almost
always about "getting right into it."
So let's... just walk a couple of circles in front of the rose
garden and gently lay ourselves back on the hammock right next to it and
just... breathe. (THAT escalated quickly.) I bet you it's been a while since
you've really breathed. Just, do that for me. Please.
Okay. Just breathe. A warm breath in. Okay. Good. Now, a warm breath out. There
you go! Now do that again for me. Except deeper this time and add some soul.
Like, ADD some SOUL. Okay, so in.............. And out....................
Haha. Phew! Okay, so you've successfully released a lot of secular tension.
Beautiful.
Now I ask that you look up (from your imaginary hammock) and see
for yourself how the clouds rotate in the sky with the setting sun a cuddly
warm against your skin. And listen how, how the birds chirp miscellaneously in
the backdrop of a soft blowing wind, slightly ruffling your hair. Notice how you can feel individual strands of hair graze against your forehead and
cheeks and how it feels almost like, like your mother's fingers memorizing your
face. And then look down, at the grass below you, how they too sway with the
wind and the verdant green that they possess. The way they move, dancing,
always dancing. (I mean,
how long has it been since you've last danced?) Now feel the air around
you. How cool and playful the wind is against the bare skin of your arms, like
an old friend coming by for a visit. And then close your eyes. And sense the
light coming in from behind your eyelids, warm and yellow and white and like
the grass, they too dance around and over and under and away each other in
little circles. Now feel your body drop and fly with the hammock, to the left,
to the right, to the left, to the right, left, right, left, right... as you try
to memorize these wonderful sensations around you. All of them. You try to
memorize all of them.
Beautiful.
Beautiful.
Just, my god, it's beautiful.
Isn't it? Isn't it just... beautiful how living means being able
to wake up everyday and having the ability to experience all these sensations. Being able
to... just stop and just breathe and then... experience. Feel. The. Sensations. Whilst the world around you
doesn't stop, you can.
It's your life and being alive does not mainly mean
money, does not mean grades, does not mean work, does not mean fitting up to
ideals, does not mean running until you're out of breath because someone told
you to, nor does it entirely mean to absolutely stop either. Because don't
forget. There's a thing called "you" with thoughts, hopes, dreams,
pains, aches, and wishes. Don't forget that you have you.
Living doesn't mean to constantly run or jog or don't sleep or
"omg, there's a deadline."
While the entire world can do that, give yourself some space
today, give yourself some time to stop for once (or maybe forever :P) and
experience what it truly means
to live.
This was Ngoc Nguyen reporting. Signing out to just lie down on
her hammock.
Your girl,
The Time-Stopper/Jaw-Dropper/Constant Grasshopper Ngoc :)
P.S. Wow. I'm already on episode 3! Wow. Just, wow. You know, when
I started all this episode stuff, it was just a way to vent my feelings to
anyone that would read whether it be 3 or 40 people. (literally. like, that's
the stat right now. being 3 people of course. x'D) And, so far, it feels great.
I don't know if I'm making a difference but it certainly feels good to sit down
and write stuff for an hour. It always feels magical to put thoughts to a blog
or to put them anywhere at all really. It feels magical. It really does.
P.P.S. Of course, I had supporters. I’d like to thank my friends,
those that say “Hey, you should be a therapist or at least a writer.”
SilverRose and my Unni. <3 This shout-out goes to y’all if you guys are even
reading this episode. Ouch. And if I have haters, I’d also like to say, “Ouch.”
And of course, I’d like to thank this one person that constantly and absentmindedly
and randomly reminds me to “blog, Ngoc.” I shall. I shall blog.
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