I’m going into Saturn conjunct my Libra Moon.

I’ve been wondering why all stir ups with Libra, and today really brought my attention to it. Emotional connections challenged. Think of it as coming from something bigger, and don’t take it personally. In every interaction with tension, I’m asking myself, how can I best react in an effort towards the most positive outcome?

It’s going to be a time of challenge for a while, but I’ve worked really hard and I think I can show how much I’ve grown by rising to the challenges.

It doesn’t even feel like, oh my vacation’s over. I feel like I’m switching over from one really hard job that had a lot of flexibility, to another job that will be a great, but interesting challenge.
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That’s it.

The writer’s path to success:

Have a vice that doesn’t kill you before you find your vision.
Have a life that doesn’t forget you before you find your story.
Have a god who doesn’t disappoint you before you find your glory.

And if you’re someone who’s in love with a writer,

You’re fucked.

Really hot day in Seattle today. Beautiful weather. Enhanced by the level of appreciation the people here have for good weather. That is really something.

I’m not ready to leave but I plan to come back. Really explore this place when I find someone who can teach me how to have fun.

Yes, I’m a fun person. No, I don’t know how to have fun.

But I enjoy my life despite that. Working for a living.

The key to being a writer.

-Live.
-Be aware of big moments and small.
-Remember things, not necessarily how they happened, but the way you want to remember them with at least one hand touching the truth.
-Get it all down. You don’t have to show everyone but you have to put it down for someone.

-Have a vice.

The writer’s path to success:

Have a vice that doesn’t kill you before you find your vision.
Have a life that doesn’t forget you before you find your story.
Have a god who doesn’t disappoint you before you find your glory.

And if you are someone who is in love with a writer,
You are in love with someone who loves their god more than they
can love any human.
It doesn’t mean they don’t love you as much as they can.
They just love something so much bigger, they can’t rest until they find
the words to know it.
To truly love someone like this, you will sacrifice.
But you will have lived with passion.

I’m only telling the truth.

I’m not even sure that’s a life I’m willing to subject someone to.

a good teacher leads people to the truth they already know.

I’m going to miss these sunsets over mountains and water most.

I kind of want to have a graduation party. I’m driving the small stuff down to CA this weekend, but I have to come back on a weekend in August to move the furniture. Just like I think of my birthday party as a gift back to all the people I care about to enjoy the night, have fun and feel appreciated, I kind of want to get together with the people I’ve met over my year of exile in Seattle and say something nice about each person. It’s the whole, why don’t we say the positive things we think about people? I usually try to say them anyway. But it would be nice to be able to do something fun and show appreciation.

But then sometimes I feel like I have these good intentions, but to actually carry them out seems a little gay. I’ll think about it. I have some time.

Final week of Seattle.

As I wrap up my this portion of my journey, I find myself reflecting on what I’ve learned here, the meaning of this cumulative experience.

I feel that in life, you can find goodness wherever you look, or badness. In part, it depends on what you expect to find, what you want to find. What you intend to hold on to and allow to “color” your reality. I’m sure I’ve had less-than-civil experiences, because life is not all of one thing or other, it is an amalgamation of all that exists. But I find that what I take away, are things that build my personal version of reality, one made of positive expansion and challenges that built me up stronger, so that I don’t think of my experience here in any way as being filled with negativity. What I remember are the good things, and the things that made me stronger.

I think that’s what Seattle gave me. An experience that showed me how to build personal perspective in a way that it can become an actual reality, because what is reality, but a complete visceral perception of what “is?” We have so much more control over our lives than we often give ourselves permission to believe. I can’t necessarily dictate what other people or the objective, collective world does, but I can control how I perceive it, my reactions to it, and where I position myself. Just like in basketball, I can’t dictate where the ball will fall, but I can put myself in the right position to get the rebound. Knowing this, it’s a matter of building things right, and not getting hung up so much on the result, as this is a continually evolving process that is changing my world within as it changes the world without.

Learn from the past, build for the future, but do all the necessary work in the present. Most importantly, enjoy every moment.

New Mission Statement:

The world does not owe me a living. And I don’t expect it to.

When I encounter something I don’t understand or which intimidates me, any static from fear, I will confront it and say, I will find a way through. It is not up to others to give me the understanding or the path beyond. It is up to me to utilize my resources, approach the right people for assistance, in order to see what I need to see, to do what I need to do.

I will never be helpless. Even in situations when I am down and do not have control or a handle, I will find a way to gain a handle. I will use my legs. I will use my will. I will use my resources. I will use my perspective. No one owes me anything. It is up to me to seek until I find. I will lead by example.

In the space between sleep and waking, I dreamed that I opened an email that explained that certain abilities I’d written about had been approved. I thought that meant something I wrote got accepted into publication, but when I looked up, there was a well-dressed man in my room who said, “No, your paradigm shift has been approved. All that you have premised is now available.” What do you mean, I asked, still trying to wake up, confused. My alarm was going off. It was 10:12am, time to get up. But I still had a line open with him.

“It means, go out and create. The tools you have requested have been transferred into your plane. Your paradigm shift has been approved. Reality is at your hands.”

I got up and turned off my alarm, then went back to bed. Dreamt that I was at an empty fairground, searching for these tools, like they would be dropped from another dimension in crates or something. But they weren’t tangible. I realized they would be unlocked “within the moment.” Like in moments when an “other” heightened ability is available, in that moment, I would get a chance to use it. But it would be intuitive. By faith. I just have to go about as if it were available and if it is, it will be there for me. I won’t know it’s there until it is happening.

Woke up an hour later to find a text from Rie, talking about having taken her son to the fairgrounds to watch the fireworks last night. Find it interesting how these texts come in while I’m sleeping, and I manage to pull their content with my mind and incorporate them into my dreams.

Tomorrow is my first meeting for work. I’m just shadowing our sales manager on a client visit. I drive back to CA next weekend to start work next week. In anxiety last night, I woke up at 4am and tried on some work clothes. I’d brought some outfits in case I got a job here, which hadn’t happened. Last time I wore work clothes was 2008. Amused to see I have an ass. Amazing what 2 years of not sitting in an office chair 9 hours a day will do for your body.

I’m like a boxer, ready for a championship fight. But this fight will be a marathon, not a sprint. It will be a marathon sprint, the world magnetized through me, and I am a funnel, directing it all in one direction. Single-minded. I’ve always been. Every trainer or fellow athlete always comments on my shoulders. They’re very strong. “Are you a swimmer?” No, I say. But I’m one of those people who can carry more than you would think possible. Put your dreams on my shoulders, I say. Let’s see how far I can push them into the next level. Because your dreams are my dreams. I want most to show people what giant realms can be possible. And then I want them to take it from there.

Creatives. We take what is not here, and bringing it here. We build the bridges between the realms of idea and dream, bringing them into reality. Just clear room for us to land them.

Watching a fireworks show and knowing that some person created that…feels like proof that there are people on this earth extending themselves bigger than human every day.

Paradigm shifts are easy. You just accept it as reality and let what came before go.
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Is it illegal to shoot off flares in a non-emergency situation? I’m at the marina, sitting under the 99 bridge, waiting for the fireworks show over the water. One of the boats just shot off a flare into the darkening sky and it was breathtaking.
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Met a newlywed couple–Gerard is an Air Force guy from Louisiana and Christina from California. Monterey, not far from where I grew up. We met in line at the festival, then ran into each other again under the shade of a tree.

If you don’t mind me asking, what ethnicity are you?, Gerard asked.

I laughed. That has been the subject of quite the curiosity lately, I said.

He guessed Japanese. His wife asked first if I was mixed and I said, no. She guessed Vietnamese.

At least you guys recognize that I’m Asian, I said. Christina is Mexican so she laughed when I told her the stories about all the Hola’s I get. She said that when she has bangs, she gets mistaken for Japanese a lot.

Maybe wherever I go, I just look native, I said. Just generally native. Like somewhere, no one’s sure where, I must be native.

Christina told me that Gerard’s losing his hair so he started shaving his head, but he’s got issues with going bald.

I told her that I’ve been noticing lately, a lot of guys having issues with it. Even last night, when I went to check out a band, I saw a guy who was dressed like a character out of that Mel Gibson movie, Mad Max. Spikes on his motorcycle jacket, bandana around his head, lots of chains all over. But it was his expression that was the hardest, like he was just daring someone to look at him the wrong way. He was a good-looking guy in a bad boy kind of way, but his face was too delicate, too pretty to be a real bad boy. If we were in LA, I would have pegged him for a struggling actor. He threw himself in a chair and took off his bandana, and he was completely bald. A very different looking person when he didn’t cover his head. But it wasn’t necessarily better or worse, just different, but there was something about him that made it obvious he wasn’t comfortable with it. Even though he’d come with friends, he sat there sulking for a bit, then took a wool cap out of his pocket, pulled it down low before he got up to walk around. I kind of felt like it was his attitude that was off-putting more than anything. Like if he could relax and smile, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But he just seemed so uncomfortable with his own body.

Gerard, in response to Christina poking fun at him for being so concerned about his hair loss, asked her, how would you feel if you lost all your thick, beautiful hair?

I’ve actually thought about what it would be like to lose all my hair just the other night, if all of a sudden, the universe deemed I should be bald. I’ve never had thick hair. It’s always been thin, delicate, with a texture like silk thread. I figure that if I ever lost all my hair, I would just have to own it with a heightened spiritual presence, like a monk. I would probably take it as the universe pushing me towards a pretty unique path.

I told him that if we–Christina and I– lost all our hair, we would just look like aliens. And maybe that’s the point because clearly they’ve been here before, because humans are dumb. We sure as hell didn’t build those pyramids by ourselves. It’s like if you have a 4 year-old and you leave him alone in his room with crayons and come back and he’s drawn the Mona Lisa, then you know he got some help. We sure as hell didn’t build those on our own.

Christina and Gerard burst out in laughter. Christina said that Gerard’s always talking about that, too, that some other life form helped us build the pyramids. The science and precision of them, especially given the times, is just impossible for humans, he said.

I told him that you look at all the places where big things got built and knowledge dropped–Egypt, Mayan civilizations, China…we all look similar. I nodded towards Christina. I’m mistaken for Hispanic and she’s mistaken for Asian…clearly we’re interchangeable. But you take away our hair, and with our big slanted eyes, you basically have someone who looks eerily like a distant descendant of the Grey’s. We’re the original mixed breed. We’re the OG Hybrid strain.

Gerard laughed and being Caucasian, he said he felt lucky marrying into our kind. I told him not to worry. Sexy is an attitude, a state of being. If Christina looks at him and thinks he’s sexy, that’s all that matters. Because however he is, it’s who he is. Just own it.

Greetings from 3:33!

When Asian boys see me, they advert their eyes. It’s what was taught, in the presence of a general or a queen. It’s the degrees of 9. Commit a crime in ancient China, they kill 9 degrees of your family. Obedience is also 9 descendants deep.
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At beer festival. Band just gave Fremont a shout out:

I shot a hippie in Fremont. Just to watch him die.
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I am far too delicate a spirit to be put in rough hands.
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old man with beard staring at me. I turn around. From behind…

My god. You’re so beautiful.

I turn back around. Look into his pale blue eyes.

Thank you.

He holds my gaze for a really long time, then shuffles away, shaking his head.

“Golly. Where did I go wrong in life.”
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He said 9 is the peacemaker, the bridge people. always trying to build bridges, be the diplomat, make peace, connect people, things, ideas. Do gooders.

I laughed. Thought about all the talking I do about building bridges.

Yes, I said.

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I told him people keep saying, “Hola” to me on the street. I get mistaken for Hispanic.

He said he would approach me with a “How” or something. Like a Lewis and Clark expedition, he would see me as someone he gets when he meets a tribe and asks for their best translator, and I step up and he says, “Oh yeah. She’s coming with us. She’s gonna be there for the WHOLE journey.”

Funny. He saw me as Native-American.

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