It's written in the stars, a million miles away

'For all that has happened and the opportunities still developing in my life, I feel blessed. I was part of a miracle that has touched a great number of people in the world and I wouldn't trade that for anything, not even to have my hand back. My accident in and rescue from Blue John Canyon were the most beautifully spiritual experience of my life, and knowing that, were I to travel back in time, I would still say "see you later" to Megan and Kristi and take off into that lower slot by myself. While I've learned much, I have no regrets about that choice. Indeed, it has affirmed my belief that our purpose as spiritual beings is to follow our bliss, seek our passions, and live our lives as inspirations to each other. Everything else flows from that. When we find inspiration, we need to take action for ourselves and our communities. Even if it means making a hard choice, or cutting out something and leaving it in your past.

Saying farewell is also a bold and powerful beginning.'

- 127 Hours: Between a Rock and a Hard Place by Aron Ralston

Conversation about god - I

Even though I may not have realised it earlier, I think I gave up on religion a long time ago.

There is something about assigning truth to a certain belief and implying such belief as above others which I don't agree with. Over time, I had learned faith is all-inclusively a personal, irrational, and at the same time a conscious endeavour.

There is always a reason why people believe in something, and why they don't - and the consequent conclusion to it is simply, to each their own.

Once on our way home while walking under a clear moonlight by the Coogee beach, my housemate asked me; "do you believe in god?". I raised my eyes, my two brows knitted together. Feeling a bit offended, I said, "what do you think I'm wearing the headscarf for?". He chuckled, and gave me a look which says, 'come on, don't fool yourself'

Later in the night, I was left deep in my own thoughts. I realised everything religious I've been doing all these while had been nothing but ornamental. They were simply a territorial mark, a conventional stamp which licensed me to function as a normal individual in my society.

I asked myself, since when did I make the conscious choice to believe, to submit myself to a particular religion or a school of thoughts - I thought long and hard, and I couldn't remember.

From that moment on; every rituals, every services I perform in the name of religion lost their meaning.

Some thoughts on happiness (or how to make your run productive)

In the morning I willed myself out of bed and went for a quick run in my neighbourhood. I've set myself a 3.4 km route as a baseline to time my run, my aim is to get 20 minutes or less before I could increase my distance to 5 km.

While running I thought about how many of us has distorted the meaning of happiness. We think they come only in specific forms; a wish fulfilled, a gift bestowed, as love deserved, or company shared. In reality, I think happiness can be found despite it all;

Sometimes in our loneliness we find happiness in being at peace and accepting what a fragile thing a relationship is. Sometimes in mourning for our loss we find lessons to be humble about letting go of things we own. Sometimes by being denied of our wish we find how minute we are as human beings and how out of control we are of our fate, how sometimes there are always larger and bigger things at play which we know and understand very little of.

Feeling like the sun is smiling at me as it breaks free from the cloud in the morning sky, sharing my milk with the friendly black and white cat who is living in the playground at my apartment, discovering what great music is in Hybrid, Elsiane's debut album, sharing a laugh with my independent, ambitious and inspiring girlfriends, and feeling a tug of longing and familiarity at the thought of someone near - these are what happiness means to me today. What's yours?

Where I was

I was sitting in a cafe with a completely generic and superficial setting. There was no music, let alone beautiful books. A hyperactive boy was throwing rocks off the shop's decor onto the shopping tile floor like he was throwing pebbles into the water. His small face, mostly covered by his oversized glasses  was laden with wonder and joy.

In this rock-bottom universe of my favourite cafes, I was astounded to find a surprise evening delight.

I was running around my neighbourhood. Trying to feel my heart beat against my chest, trying to taste my salty sweat trickling down my face and flooding my eyes, nose and lips. The street so quiet its deafening silence creating a series of calming echoes inside my head.

Hushed morning like these are my sacred escape, moments I get to let my mind wanders free and unrestrained.

I was on a major recconnaisance for my next perfect abode, a place to call home and  people to live with to call a family. The state of my temporary settlements - from one bookshelf to another - sometimes give me an illusion of fresh starts, or clean exits.

I was finishing my reading of 127 Hours, my enrapturement with Aron Ralston's psyche and his passionate obsession with nature and exploring it is causing my slow progress with the book. My act of reading the book is one I usually witness when people are nibbling succulent chocolate or oyster, or sipping a good warm hot chocolate on rainy days. They savour it, they take it slow.

I was standing across a familiar friend, listening to his voice and smiling at his friendly jokes. In my head, my brain works faster than my heart - trying to make sense of his undeciphered demeanour. After a while, when silence makes an interval out of our long pause - I put my guard down and let his presence envelops my existence.

At every breath he draws in I was made aware of every fluttering molecules that he is - ordinary yet so out of place.

I was living, creating my own circumstances and unplanned adventures. I was trying to furnish my small life with my gigantic dreams. I was trying to live - really live - before I die.