Justina Chang dot com

Sometimes

Justina — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 22:12:12 +0000

Sometimes I just love a good surprise.

And sometimes I just really like a good excuse to bust out the camera.

But mostly, I just like to be reminded that I am loved.

2011

Justina — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 23:30:33 +0000

So that 2011 resolution about not procrastinating? Given that it’s well into the first week of January and only now have I gotten around to writing this, I think it’s safe to say that I failed dismally at tackling that one. But don’t judge me too harshly, I’ve been busy reflecting.

I was prepared to write a long rambling post about 2010 compared to 2011, but it can all be summed up in some pretty simple words. Heavy vs. light. Blocked vs. clear. I grew into myself a little bit in 2011 and that has changed the entire game for me.

I know my documentation efforts have been heinous this year, but here are 2011 highlights, in no particular order:
1. Travelling (Montreal, London [x2], Amsterdam, Vancouver, New England)
2. Snowboarding (all over the place!)
3. Cycling (I still won’t admit I enjoy this, hmph!)
4. Photographing (Film!)
5. Cooking (Baking! Eating!)
6. Moving (!!!)
7. Crying (Just a little bit — it wasn’t all hunky dory, and I’m ok with that!)
8. Living (See Item 11: Cliche-ing)
9. Laughing (Belly laughs all day every day!)
10. Loving (My heart is full enough to burst!)
11. Cliche-ing (I’m still the cliche queen, after all.)

I cradled 2010 in my arms, afraid that it would shatter if I handled it too roughly. But 2011, I learned that taking the bull by the horns and indulging in a little spontaneity were good things.

2012…I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me.

100 Days

Justina — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 00:37:09 +0000

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

–Khalil Gibran, The Prophet, On Death

So much has happened since I rushed home from work 100 days ago, only to find myself out of my territory and resorting to taking photos of our pets because that was the only thing I could think to do that still felt normal and familiar.

Traveling, working, loving, living, healing. Life goes on, yes.

But still I like to think that the sunset we had last night as we left church was a sign from the Great Unknown for us to be rest assured that what was taken away 100 days ago was safe and sound.

Wherever you are, I hope you’re watching over us as you dance.

Not November Yet

Justina — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 16:37:14 +0000

And yet there appears to be this cold frozen substance falling from the sky right now.

What could it be, because I’m pretty sure it’s still October and winter is still months away, right? RIGHT?!

Mother Nature, quit messing with me please…

It’s Here

Justina — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 22:41:43 +0000

It’s that time of the year again. I busted out the yarn box last weekend and proceeded to bury myself in wooly goodness.

If you need me, I’ll be in my hidey hole, being soothed by the click-clacking of my knitting needles.

Until we meet again.

Sonnet XVII

Justina — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 00:48:13 +0000

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

– Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII

This.

Justina — Fri, 22 Jul 2011 04:48:48 +0000

It takes many inches to make a mile. We can only move by inches, one inch at a time. It’s when we look miles ahead and wonder “how are we going to get so far?” that we fail to move forward at all. The paradox is that we can choose to live life “in the rear view mirror” and remain so far back that moving forward, even an inch, is most difficult. Most important, we must always keep in mind that any time we suffer a setback while moving forward, it will always be just a matter of inches, and not miles.
– Rick Beneteau

Montreal

Justina — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 02:08:47 +0000

We came, we biked, we pigged out. On almond croissants, eggs, and coffee.

Oh boy, did we pig out. Especially on tasty Japanese food.

Not that I’m complaining or anything. Well, I’m maybe complaining a little about “duck in a can”. Yeah, it sounds as weird as it is. And foie gras poutine? My morale compass was spinning out of control, don’t judge!

Summer’s coming and going quicker than I can keep up, but I’ll have these love handles to remind me it was here and I was there. And man, did I pig out.

2018

Justina — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 05:02:12 +0000

My word, there’s nothing quite as entertaining as reading my journal from 2004. Yes. Two, oh, oh, four. My immediate reaction was to be embarrassed for 2004 Justina. Then I was horrified for 2018 Justina, who will happen upon this post and judge 2011 Justina the same way I’m judging 2004 Justina now.

And yet…

The immediate thing that struck me about my old journal was firstly the content and secondly the writing itself. I was a pretty good writer back then, if I do say so myself. Nowadays…not so much. I blame brain atrophy directly correlated to too many years spent “Hello World”-ing (nerd joke for my non-nerdlings out there). And the content, well…would it surprise you that I was an emo little thing back then? I don’t think that surprises anyone, actually. It made me realize how uninhibited I used to be about journaling.

To be honest, I’m actually a little grateful that I was such an open book back then. I’m reminded of the things that I was hurting about and I’m reminded of the things I used to want for myself. It brings me relief to know that 2011 Justina can assure 2004 Justina that the hurting will get better and she will one day have those things her heart desires and that in the next seven years life will be so twisty and turny with disappointments (unfortunately) and surprises (thankfully). Nowadays, most of what I record is a watered down, sugar coated version of the good bits. It would be nice for 2018 Justina to have an accurate recording of this time in my life to serve the same kind of reassurance that the hurting will get better (it always gets better) and her hearts desires have always been within reach and that the twists and turns are what make this journey all worthwhile.

As I quoted one August day seven years ago:
“Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right. Forget about those who don’t. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.”
– Harvey Mackay

2018 Justina, if you’re reading this, I hope you’re nodding your head in agreement right now.

The Wonder Of It All

Justina — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 03:25:08 +0000

Another year gone by, another wish made.

To appreciate and be appreciated.
To love and be loved.
To constantly be in awe of life.

Sometimes wishes do come true.