why don't you sing, little monkey?

couple weeks ago, a very beautiful blue heron came with an enticing idea. she said, hey, little monkey, how would it be, to be free of the pez hat and cymbals, and to play what your heart wishes?

the little monkey is a content animal.  there are, of course, days where she looks up into the vast sky and wonder, hmm, all these sound we make, where does it go in context of the beauty of the world?

sometimes monkey changes her hats. she puts down her red pez hat for playing; what does she do? well, she sometimes dig ditches and works with big, strong machines, in dust storm.  sometimes she sits down in a little branch, with others who sings from a different world- monkey carefully transposes them, as you know, each note is important and each inflection can mean the world to speaker and the listener.  sometimes, she puts on a flap cap and just goes somewheres. anywhere. faraway.

she likes cogwheels. little monkey plays music because it lets people to open up their hearts and speak sincerely. sometimes, the beauty falls out from their unguarded selves and even they are surprised.  the days are sprinkled with sparkles.  of course, too much sparkles can drive anyone crazy.

often, little monkey thinks of her times when she was wee. her life was surrounded by very practical matters- to do well, to be responsible, to be resourceful.  her little family loved her much and they had more than enough to be happy- but it is true that when she went to the music school, she realized she had musical poverty. failing her entrance theory exam was a funny incident, not even tragic, as it was fully expected- an exercise in futility for the future.

arts? what is art?

there are many silly people who assumes and puts on the hat of prophets. they all run around ragged, barefoot, screaming on top of their lungs.  prophet isaiah certainly did set a strong example.  they wag their fingers, speak loudly and tells you what's wrong with the world, with arts.  little monkey used to be terrified of these people. but then she understood later- all they wanted was to be loved, for they had thoughts they wished to share. and they wanted to be loved. that's all it was. so now, she's just a bit wary of them.  she carefully crosses the road when she sees a raving prophet.  after all, what is the little monkey going to say to them?

but like all people, there are times that monkey has thoughts, very small ones, albeit, because she needs to keep it simple- she learned the danger of being complicated and wordy- oh the complications! and also because the simpler the things, she likes it better.

so going back to her nest on the high tree branch, monkey looked into her collection of little things. little wonders. bits of shiny mirror. silver ribbons. white paper that has not be touched. memories of snow flakes.

she brought it to the heron. they went for a walk and collected even more things- piece of spring, young and youthful. sultry perfumed silk ribbon.  feisty flee circus bill. and heron also showed her the rich things sheve found- oh, look, some old italian pictures, filled with ink, gradations and stories!

with kind hosts, who've seen many things in life, the two stood in the gentle light of early winter dusk and did a little show-and-tell.

of course, with all show-and-tell, one can fuss so much about it…

little monkey rarely speaks of her own thoughts on a stage.  she wonders if it would be worthy of anyone's time. after all, simple sunshine on icicle can speak of the world so clearly.  there are so much beauty.  may be what she wants to sing, it won't matter much. and with the great display of bravado, grandiose and richness, she often feels that her collection of small things may seem foolish.

but they SAID they wanted to hear!

oh with the cautious heart, she unravelled the treasures with blue heron. and people were touched.

it is miraculous, after all these time, that such little collection in the vast big world, can manage to speak a bit. even for brief time.

it's a quite a surprising experience for the monkey, who mostly wears her velvet red pez hat and assist many little tasks.  this time, it was different. it was her and the heron who made it happen- and the wise man and woman helped to gather ears who were hungry for something. and yay, we did provide something.

what dos it all mean? it is too soon to tell. it was too sincere of an experience to speak of, because, well, this little monkey needs time to process things. or she will make mistakes!

but for now, she carries the magic of the moment, when she spoke little tiny words, people did listened. and it meant something.

ah the beauty!

with content heart, she is looking into calendar full of little tasks, jam packed. but she knows, that magic did happen last weekend. and she is grateful.


that elusive sanity

at the present, it is a weird thing to acknowledge or casually discuss the mental health issue. bit like talking about cancer, it's always serious and heavy. but perhaps the truth for most people is bit closer to having a 'passing cold,' where one goes through a light phase of mental uncertainty, a bit of disturbance.  nothing dangerous, but uncomfortable and  may be painful.

change in sleep pattern, eating pattern, manifestation of obsessions, irritation, these are all real symptoms of mental illness.

however, this is different than to simply slap on an easy label: depression, obsessive-compulsive, borderline-personality disorder.  somehow, through shallow, wide, repeated exposure through the bombardment of the media, we so casually toss these nouns around.  but the truth is that 'feeling depressed' may not be the same thing as having a clinical depression.

it's bit like everyone all the sudden claiming gluten sensitivity (HAHA); yes, celiac is real and there ARE people with gluten sensitivity. however, there are ALSO people who self-dignose and freely use gluten-sensitivity to describe themselves.  or lactose-intolerance. or whatever the fad is at the moment...

why is this distinction important?

well, rather than belittling the problem, or avoiding the real issue (this includes blowing the problem out of proportion for self-justification), perhaps the willingness to observe and acknowledge self in busy times, especially dark winter in toronto, will allow each one of us to find way to balance self to be healthy.

i have been running, trying to eat not too much or little, go out and socialize and enjoy my work to the fullest, in preparation for the possible onslaught of hope by winter.  i even love winter, but yes, it can do damage.  and may be sometimes, what i can do actively is not enough to ward off the ghost entirely.

i acknowledge that i may be going through a slightly patchy period.  and i also acknowledge that i am doing my very best to keep self centred. however, i do understand that i may just feel a bit crappy, just like having a runny nose for a few days.  and that it can be quite painful, just like a physical illness.  sometimes you wash your hands million times but still get sick (ask elementary school teachers!)

in the midst of february second semester storm, i wish everyone a sane month. hang on. and if you need help or change, go seek it. it's there. no one needs to suffer alone.  and yes, it is alright to be- say, lazy. it may not be that you are 'depressed.'  if you are tired but decide to call yourself depressed, it is really not going to help anyone. it is inaccurate and simply not true.  the world does not need you to be a hero all the time, do acknowledge the real cause of the problem and proceed.  covering one's tiredness as 'medical' problem won't help anyone, including self.

after all, they are only projections into the future. they are not real. they are hopes, and they may not even be appropriate anyhow! (like like kids wanting to drive the firetruck TODAY NOW).  it is okay to accept 'no.'

however, if you really are having a mental health issue, there is no shame in taking care of the situation.  love to all and take care! i am going to desperately try to sleep.

when one is short of sleep, life can become very difficult very fast, haha.