The Ending of 2011

Right before the new year, I always write a retrospective blurb that somehow sums up what the year means to me. I had a lot of trouble writing about this year because I was trying to find words that jarred positive cliches of self-growth and personal awareness but it was not at all what I wanted to write about. After brainstorming words I could equate to 2011, I determined that my word would be 'endings'; such a word is probably the opposite of what you would expect me to write about as it connotes a permanent finish. However, there is so much more to endings; they can be temporal, inevitable, a preamble to the next. So read this ending as an epilogue; a concluding postscript to 2011:

Although Pamela felt her first taste of what seemed like a temporal ending to her life in BC, she found the courage and excitement to start something new when she moved to Ontario just moments before the 2011 New Year. Like every good dichotomy, endings are not without beginnings and thus she felt the fickle minded partnership of having beginnings begin so endings could end. As quickly as it started, she ended the him and hers, ended the trips, ended the starlight nights, ended the internship, ended the hugs and constant conversations. She ended so she could begin again, and end again. She ended University, ended the intimacy. She ended it because she needed some sort of control before the year ended. So here we find Pamela watching the countdown beat down to the final seconds into the New Year. She hopes that perchance there will be magic in those last few seconds; within the spaces of those seconds, she hopes that the earth will turn on its axis and somehow time will set her free, the endings will be rung out, the new year will help forget the things she put in her head and she will feel a unweighted lightness of being otherwise known as clarity. But when the year does in fact end, she realizes that her emotions have not turned skyward, the moments continue to flow on despite this brief interruption of cheers and kisses, the promise of a better year will be up for her taking until it too ends. Although Pamela did not want these endings, temporal or permanent as they may be, she knows that she cannot live in the manacles of regression. Instead, she thrives on this perpetuity of progress. Please, do note that she is not leaving things behind with her endings. She keeps these endings so she knows her capacity of moving on.

Pam  xx

Every Crushing Node

It's been awhile since I've updated my blog and an even longer time that I have written anything of actual significance. I am not devoid of feelings. In fact, I have become so fanatic that I have tried to make sense of every tingle, vibration, and clench. I went against my beliefs and became obsessed with searching and making sense of everything that I felt myself hanging off the precipice. In this constant search for an ostensible meaning, I ended up feeling meaningless. The paces of my latest passions were not steady and progressive insomuch as they would bloom and collapse. I could feel myself not caring about putting an effort to maintain my relationships and I let my passions fall by the wayside. But I feel a turnaround. It has been less than twenty-four hours since I finished my last exam of my undergraduate studies and this high that I am experiencing is more than worth the travail of the last five years. I used school as an albatross of carried excuses to sacrifice relationships, friendships and activities I wanted to accomplish but did not. There is an awakening because the excuses have fallen and the weight has been lifted. It is not that school was not purposeful but it was simply just a parenthesis in this creation of becoming something meaningful. There is a knowing that the start of something new is the start of a trembling brilliance.

Also of significance, a week ago I got my tarot cards read. Despite my lack of faith in the activity itself, I was thrilled at the opportunity to gain some new perspectives. She focused on what she saw as two major things in my life: love and education. I do not want to give away the detailed explanations she illuminated, but I do find that the two themes are very prominent. Now that my education is complete (for the time being?), I'm ready to learn through explorations of the mind, body and all that exists between matter and the stars. I'm ready to learn through love and learn through a thorough fostering of my soul's imagination and application of this consciousness. I hope you stay awhile to see what becomes of me. 

Pam  xx

Politics as a Vocation

I love finding words that can coalesce into a feeling whether it is found in the forms of poems, lyrics, quotes, short stories, spoken dialogue, or... essays in Sociology. More often that not, reading classical theorists for Sociology can be very daunting. However, I came across this paragraph written by Max Weber, and liked it so much I thought I would share:

"Politics is a strong and slow boring of hard boards. It takes both passion and perspective. Certainly all historical experience confirms the truth-that man would not have attained the possible unless time and again he had reached out for the impossible. But to do that a man must be a leader, and not only a leader but a hero as well, in a very sober sense of the word. And even those who are neither leaders nor heroes must arm themselves with that steadfastness of heart which can brave even the crumbling of all hopes. This is necessary right now, or else men will not be able to attain even that which is possible today. Only he has the calling for politics who is sure that he shall not crumble when the world from his point of view is too stupid or too base for what he wants to offer. Only he who in the face of all this can say ‘In spite of all!’ has the calling for politics." - Max Weber, Politics as a Vocation, 1918.

Pam  xx

Happy Halloween

Pam  xx

Decorative Designs

These pictures are close to a month old but I still want to share them! For my sister’s 21^st birthday, we threw her a ‘D’ themed party : this meant I spent countless hours cutting, hot glue gunning, threading & painting hundred’s of D’s in all sizes. A 40" balloon in the shape of a 'D' gathered at our place along with Dena's friends in costumes of characters/animals/objects that began with the letter D. This upcoming weekend will be filled with just as much creativity with pumpkin carvings, spooky decorations, sweet confections and costumes! Oh, how I love Halloween! 

Pam  xx

Condensation of steam

I linger actively on your contact and fade without the tangibility of your presence. I circumvent when you are cold, yet I materialize when your warmth passes through. Define us without the materials that give rise to the steam, the haziness lucidity and you cannot. It is the mass of our experiences that are extracted to create that part of me that is a part of you.

Pam  xx

The Pleasantries of Fall

Besides the obvious mentions of friends, family and health, there are little things that I am thankful for that are specific to this season. There are a couple of materialistic mentions, but sometimes I need to appreciate these small things when the big things are a bit too hectic. 

Boots. I practically live in boots and own an abundance of pairs that mostly go unworn. I go boots shopping to combat my sadness over the demise of summer.

Miniature pumpkins and squash that are delightful as centrepieces. 

A cozy scarf in fall appropriate colours. From the leaves on the ground to material accessories, these rich hues of yellow and orange signify Autumn.   

Having this in my backyard/ still being able to enjoy it in Fall weather. (The Blue Mountain in the distant is where SFU is located). 

Benjamin Francis Leftwich - His music gets me through studying and commuting in days where I have no choice but to be indoors. 

Some of the nicest things about fall are the little indulgences, in preparation to the big feasts and enjoyments of the winter holidays; just a right amount of sweets, steamy chamomile tea and warm home-cooked meals. The weather settles into a chilling crispness that allows you to still breathe in the mountains without the freezing chatter of bones. Time tiptoes into a steadier pace now that most people are indoors - writing, reading, and watching movies singly and collectively under blankets. Yet, fall is a dialectic of calm and stress - The dead leaves and the stillness of inhaling and exhaling deep airy breaths knit with the rush of assignments and midterms, and the anxiety that soon it will be Christmastime (Yes, I said it; I always think of it way in advance).

I will take my books outdoors while being bundled in thick cottons and scarves and risk catching a cold. I don’t want to miss the skies when they are still this beautiful.  

Yours,

Pam  xx

Forgiving

Forgiveness is such a delicate word as the connotation usually implies that you have been wronged and now you’re just supposed to get over it. It’s an ongoing practice that is continuously interwoven with new social actors. Since returning, I have met up with an individual that I thought I might never see again. While I may have uttered, “I forgive you” in the distant past, it wasn’t until seeing this person, did I believe myself. In all the nights that I have bemoaned over people, it takes seeing that particular person to finally feel the whole effect of the forgiving experience. And in actuality, I needed this person to forgive me too. Forgive me for being such a coward in all those times that I thought it might be easier to just slip away.

In addition, a couple weekends ago, I found myself in an environment that included a woman of my past who I had once declared and vehemently believed that if I could control lightning bolts, I would send them her away. She was involved in a scenario that had broken my young unadulterated heart for the first time. But as I walked out of the pub bathroom, and noticed her sitting in my seat amongst my friends, I no longer felt the intense need to call upon the power of Zeus. Instead, I made a joke which poked fun at the situation and laughed in tummy-hurting fashion at my own expense. The past anger had managed to be swallowed like the last sips of my cranberry vodka seven. I had forgiven her. 

Yours, 

P. xo. 

Breakfast Pizza

Rarely do I post pictures of food, which is funny because I almost always take pictures of my meals when they are enjoyed with friends. I'm not at all a chef. However, food posts may be prudently garnished on my blog from time to time as I have made the conscious decision to try out some new recipes. Feast your eyes on the breakfast pizza that my friend and I made:

Yours,

P. xo.

Wednesdays.

Wednesdays are quickly becoming my favourite day of the week. My day off from school is positioned perfectly in the middle of the week allowing for a short break and a rejuvenation of spirits. Here are some pictures of a Wednesday at Colony Farms in Port Coquitlam. I’m blessed that at the end of September, I am still able to witness the azure of the midday skies and the golden yellows of the fields.

Yours,

P. xo. 

A World Inside a World Inside a Wilderness

 Buntzen Lake

 Remaining grapes, blueberries and guava. 

Powerhouse Rd.

One of the nice things about hiking trails is that there's a carved out walkway allowing for foot soldiers to get where they want to be. Within the foliage, the multiplicities of colours and the refinements of the earth, I walk along a predetermined path. Finding your own way is not always as endearing and adventurous as it sounds. Life would be a little easier if trees always directed me where I needed to go; And when I want to just plant my feet into the soil, it would help if my life was paved with trails that told me to keep on going. A few, but very significant, decisions need to be made in the near future, and they are pulling me in all sorts of directions. Please understand that I'm the worst decision maker in the world. 

Yours,

P. xo.