A Gift from Goddesses

Wow, wow, wow.

I came home today to find a stamp-kissed package perched on my doorstep.

SUFEY CHEN — it sang in big bold letters.
BERGMAN — it was a love-box from darling miss wendy.

Open me, it teased. I shrieked like a child on Christmas Day.

I gingerly peeled open the first layer and gasped:
a beautiful family of polka-dotted packages peeked out under pretty yellow flowers.

I counted them— 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, seven.
My goodness, Wendy Bergman, you’ve outdone yourself. 

I opened the gifts before the letter, as per instructions.

I bubbled up in happy exclamations:

peanut butter M&Ms + fuzzy peaches (I haven’t had these since I was a kid!)
a box of funky-coloured straws (I love sipping through straws!)
The Book of Awesome (I’ve been dying to read that!)
Chicken Soup for the Soul word-finds (perfect for the plane ride to Maui!)
bright pink nail polish (my favourite colour!)
Hello Kitty band-aids (oh. my. god. Hello Kitty!!!!)
and two beeeautiful drawings from Gracie and Charlie.

Oh, wow.

I tore open the letter and tears sprung to my eyes.

That Wendy would take the time to create such a beautiful gift—
such an incredibly sweet, thoughtful, big-hearted gift—
made me so very happy and gooey and glowy inside.

And the letter, oh. It overflowed precious wisdom for my hungry soul:

Dear Sufey

Life sometimes has a way of knocking us down
and making us question everything about ourselves. 
The best advice I can give you is to just let this time 
wash over you like waves over stone. 
This experience is meant to polish and strengthen you; 
ultimately to make you even more beautiful. 

This little gift’s purpose is to help you connect with your inner child
(Gracie picked most of the gifts for you),
as the best things to heal our wounds are 
hello kitty bandaids,
cold milk through a straw,
a fresh coat of pink nail polish,
an easy word find to build your confidence
and a good book to fill your soul. 

All our love, 

Gracie & Wendy

 I melted.

Gracie and Wendy, thank you.

Your sweet, selfless act brought so much joy to me today.
Thank you for your healing love in a time of need.

You are genuine pearls in an ocean of empty shells.
And I’m — really, truly, heart-too-fully — lucky to be your friend.

I’m sipping cold milk through a straw right now.
And somehow it makes everything a million times better.

Here I Am

Two weeks ago, my life exploded before my eyes.

I lost control of my bike, smashed full-speed into a wall, and crumpled onto the street. I hit my vulva on the crossbar as I crashed, which led to an 8×8 cm hematoma on my right labia (as discovered later).

Pain crushed my body.
Terror choked my mind.

In that instant, I was desperate for life. Pitiful prayers to a higher power wrestled a wretched fear in my head. I’m not ready to go, I thought. Please. Let me do better.

The days that followed were a blur of hospital visits and severe anxiety. I lashed out emotionally. I was clouded with anger and a throbbing reminder of the things I was no longer capable of. Like sitting. Or peeing. Or fending for myself.

The doctors said it would take a few months to fully heal.
And thus began the longest vacation of my life.

I’m learning that life is never going to be comfortable. It’s not supposed to be easy. No matter how much we plan and prepare, there will always be challenges, roadblocks, ambushes and pitfalls.

You can fail even if you’re playing it safe.

So I say fuck it and follow bliss. Again and again. When I die, I want to be covered in dirt and scars and drenched in tears. I want to have traipsed the world and built an empire and watched it collapse and built another. I want to fight. I want to be worn, used and fully spent, consumed by the fires of a deep and blazing love. I want to say I’ve been true to my heart. I want to say I’ve given it my best shot. My all.

And so here I am.

Big changes are coming again.

Dear Universe:

for the high, high heights we strive to reach,

sufey

for soul songs, kindred spirits and serendipitous days,

sufey

for those who smile despite their circumstances,

sufey

Thank you.

***

Gratitude is the key to happiness.

I am thankful for who I am; for what I have seen, felt, and loved. It’s easy to lose ourselves amidst the chaos of life. Through Dear Universe posts, I remind myself to take time every day to slow down, appreciate, and enjoy the beauty of each moment.

I post often on Facebook here and here, and Twitter as well. Do join in the conversation!

All my love, joy & happy thoughts to you! <3

~ Sufey

Lonely

Loneliness hits me in big Bed.

He boasts of luxury: a smirk of king, silky threads, full spreads, soft as a cat’s claws paws. Simpering of excess for my small self, I sink in.

How he’d bully my bare blanket back home, I think.

Lights glitter frantically down below, clamoring for attention, screeching like Cindy’s stepsisters, pick me, pick me! I am the brightest, yes, the brightest of them all!

I close the curtains.

Blackness cuts corners, crevices, and Loneliness hits me.

Loneliness, an old, familiar friend. I say friend, for he is too close to be merely acquaintance, too generous to be called enemy.

He hugs me tightly, too tight, I choke, sinking into harsh extravagance. I cry. My cheeks flush rubies and as the floods free… I am free also.

Loneliness, a messenger boy. Sent by the Universe.

To remind me: pleasure comes not with property, but passion ablaze. Luxury is lonely without love. And the greatest joy is humble, unassuming, earnest and simple.

Like the way a child laughs and laughs and laughs at nothing particularly funny. The way it becomes contagious. And how it hurts, and we can’t breathe anymore.

I laugh.

Loneliness leaves, Sleep seeps in.

lonely

Love

sufeylove

Love.

Love is kind.

Love is unconditional.

Love needs no reason.

Love hugs you tight when you cry.

Love squeezes your hand because it feels good.

Love sings to you.

Love touches you.

Love paints you pictures.

Love is colourful.

Love sparkles.

Love is speechless.

Love listens.

Love is patient.

Love is here.

Love always comes home.

Love can’t stop kissing you.

Love makes your insides melt like cacao left too close to the stove by accident.

Love leaves you little notes everywhere.

Love listens.

Love makes you hot ginger tea.

Love carries you over puddles.

Love doesn’t mind the rain.

Love gets lost in the mountains with you but it’s okay because

Love > fear.

Love shows up on your doorstep. With roses. And cucumbers.

Love warms you up when you’re cold.

Love spoons.

Love heals.

Love wins.

Love is a warrior.

Love survives.

Love grows.

Love lasts.

Love stares up at the stars and wonders where you fell from.

Love lingers a moment longer.

Love breathes you in.

Love shows up to yoga class because you’re there and

Love is wherever you are.

Love makes you vegan avocado milkshakes.

Love makes you scream in bed.

Love is innocent.

Love is funny.

Love is playful.

Love is a glimmer of light in the black.

Love thinks you’re perfect.

Love is you.

Love is me.

Love is.

Love.

I Am Thankful

I am thankful.

I am thankful for mama and daddy, who have given me life, and for the entirety of my family, who teach me to be alive. I love you.

I am thankful for air to breathe.

I am thankful for the kindness of strangers, like the businessman who bought my cart-full of groceries last month when I ran out of cash on hand. “I was a student once too,” he chuckled, “consider it my donation to the university.”

I am thankful for old ladies who invite me in for piping hot tea and freshly-baked cookies. For college students who give their bed to me and sleep on the floor instead. For unmet relatives who travel across the country to take me out for dinner. For everyone who takes care of me, feeds me, dresses me, and loves me as their own.

Because it has taught me to do the same.

I am thankful for the hugs and giggles of pretty little girls, for the way they twirl soft chubby fingers through my hair.

I am thankful for cotton-candy swirls in the sky at sunrise.

I am thankful for my man. For the notes you leave me every day. For the way we sing wordless songs that ebb and flow, intertangling into each other. For the way you trust me with your fears, and the way you understand mine. For being my someone to love.

I am thankful for street children who slip blue beaded bracelets onto my wrists and say to me: “Friend, friend. Free for friend.”

I am thankful for friends who wait long waits in waiting rooms to see that I’m okay. For nice nurses who squeeze my shaking hands extra-firmly.

I am thankful for soul-songs.

I am thankful for silence.

I am thankful for baby brothers that won’t let me sleep alone when I’m sad. For the time I woke up to crayon-penned notes tucked ’round my room that all started with “I love you because…”

I am thankful for sadness. Because how else to fully appreciate joy?

I am thankful for yoga. For living mindfully, soulfully, gratefully, blissfully. For constant challenges that push me beyond my edge. For daily shavasanas.

I am thankful to feel lonely, sometimes.

I am thankful to not be alone. I am thankful for kindred spirits who move me, hug me, and stand me up when I trip over my own two feet.

I am thankful for my feet. They walk me many places.

I am thankful for God, who is here in me and around me every day. I am thankful for magic and miracles.

I am thankful for sweet oranges and cucumber juice.

I am thankful for cute little piglets to feed.

I am thankful to know nothing.

I am thankful to learn from everyone I meet.

I am thankful for puddles of side-splitting, pants-peeing laughter.

I am thankful to have so much to be thankful for that I can’t write it all down.

I am thankful to stop now and go outside to soak up the sun.

I am thankful.

Here

Streaks of sun entangle in yawning winds and they float down together. I perch soft on great slabs of cracked ivory and cracks in my heart start to heal.

Only sky above, only rock below. I see the whole world, it seems.

I am alone but no longer lonely. Earth grounds me, wind cleanses me, and a small bee buzzes around my shoulder like a guardian angel. I blow him a kiss.

Silver turns to ash as sun falls and moon rises. She is beautiful despite her shadows and creases, or perhaps more so because of them. I move this musing into memory and let it leave the here now.

Thoughts float in and out of mind, distant, comfortably blurred, and I let them be. Be here. Here now. I am here, now.

I am here, now.

sufey

Lucky

I wake up every morning and think, how lucky I am to be alive!

How lucky I am for this very breath.

How lucky I am for a mind that thinks, for a body that thrives in such magically complex ways. How lucky I am to bend, to move, to dance, to sing, to laugh, to play.

How lucky I am to be on mama Earth, to bask in sunshine, to splash barefoot in the rain! How lucky I am for fertile lands that sprout foods to nourish my body, for loving communities that grow thoughts to nourish my soul. How lucky I am for stars that sparkle sweetdreams upon us at night.

How lucky I am for human intimacy, for touch- for hopeful, impassioned eyes. How lucky I am to know that I am not alone on this journey. So many have survived before. So many will survive after.

And how lucky I am to fall, and fall, and fall again. To make mistakes. To suffer. How lucky I am to bleed, sweat, toil, cry, for it has only made me stronger today. How lucky I am to struggle, for the greatest happiness is hidden beyond the greatest sorrow.

How lucky I am to be so insignificant, a mere drop of water in an ocean of love. But if I may help quench even a small thirst, how lucky I am to be a comfort in times of need.

Silence at the Sea

Fragile bubbles pop, pop, crumble at the surface of the sea. They race to the top, alone, intertwined, rushing like people do, in some sort of a great hurry.

Take your time, the ocean drawls, ambling along. She isn’t going anywhere. I slow, slow every breath of my body, and surrender to the rolling waves. Up and down. Up and down.

There is nothing beneath but infinite sea, infinite me. There is nothing above but streamers of violet and crimson, remnant of the sun’s farewell party, and then it is pitch black.

Silence slips in through the cracks of the tide and catches me by surprise, overwhelming me, a shot of drink in the thirst. Oh, how refreshing Silence is! How lovely the notes of nada!

I lay motionless, mesmerized. A thrill shivers through me and I am drunk, intoxicated by the sweet joy of Nothingness.

The melody plays, an old, familiar friend. Thank you, I whisper. Thank you for coming back. And I realize, once again, that the universe is watching over me. Always.

The crowd dwindles to a few and fewer until there is nobody left but me and Silence and the stars and the sea.

I am free.

Rage

God is crying, crying, crying, inconsolable, outraged. Powerful cars sputter, cough, clunk-clunk-thunk to a stop, swimming, sinking, struggling to gasp through torrents of his tears, his howls of fury. Daggers crack open the sky with the fierce vengeance of a wronged soul, lashing out to any, every, unleashing his burden on the vulnerable, unleashing pain.

Frightened trees bow, frightened people drown. I wonder who He weeps for?

Perhaps he cries for the burnt-blue beggar kneeling titter-tattered on the filth strewn street; the one I can’t bear to look at. The one singing bad opera with his arms chopped off. His eyes are unfocused and his ribs jut sharply out from too-tight skin.

Perhaps he cries for the baby girls tossed away frivolously as half-chewed corn cobs. One sits quietly, emotionless, half-hidden in the shade of a jagged metal coverpiece.

Perhaps he cries for the starving boy who steals, for the wealthy one that steals more.

Perhaps he cries for the passer-bys that casually watch a drunkard-driver rip open an infant and leave him raw, bloody, tasty for death. Perhaps he cries for the elegant young women sold to be whores, who grow old, hard, bitter, years of suffering etched laboriously into their unevenly lined masks.

Perhaps he cries for dreams abandoned by eager faces that forgot. I forgot once, too.

Rusty-amber lights writhe violently in the tantrum of tears, rippling in rage that goes on and on and on. The cars have lost hope now; they are deserted, desolate. Some become suffocation traps submerged in the flood, a casket of dead bodies to be found in the morning calm.

I look for the ark, but there is none.

Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu
May all beings everywhere be happy and free,
May the thoughts, words and actions of my own life
Contribute in some way to that happiness and to that freedom for all

connect with Sufey today