.. と タンポポ

I am buying too many things and I have a lot more to buy <not sure to insert happy or sad smiley> 

List:

1. Backpack + Cover
2. Bottle
3. Kindle + Cover
4. Heels
5. Duffel bag
6. Semi pro camera

It hurts a little, because you realised that everyone goes through the same thing, some had it easier, some harder, some included other events in life, but we all go through the same thing. For a moment, it surprised me that we have the same questions at that particular point in time, the same dilemma, maybe different backgrounds, but they are all the same. So your life isn’t that unique after all. But then again, I have never thought of my life as unique. 

Once again, what is the purpose of life? What is the purpose of working? What is it that I want out of life? It feels like I am under a coconut shell, lifting the shell a little, afraid to peek out too much, for the fear of facing something that I cannot handle, just lazing in my comfort zone. 

If there is nothing wrong with something, why are you trying to fix it? Are you really trying to improve it? Is that necessary or are you just imposing your alleged ideal?

My throat sores so bad, I am emoing. I am emoing so bad that I blogged.

Have you ever been pampered? 

Suddenly I realised that I am not ready to go back there. Fear. Of all the little things.

Fear of losing myself, as a person who I used to grow up as (even though she lacked of character).  

What goes through your mind when you lie on the bed? That particular moment? 

Suddenly one night, I realised that I really love the few minutes before I sleep, the moment when you know you are going to sleep. That peaceful moment. As you wriggle under the soft comforter, listening to the faintest sound of mom’s breathing, thinking of nothing but of how contented you are, with nothing. This is the best moment because if you sleep, you stop thinking. If you don’t, comes the worst part. The sudden feeling of fear creeps in. Fear that people around you growing older and older. Sigh.

Getting lazier and lazier and fatter and fatter and sicker and sicker :( 

Love this story or not, you will not be able to have tea in a tea cup again without thinking of this.

There was a couple who took a trip to England to shop in a beautiful antique store to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. 

They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups.
Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked “May we see that? We’ve never seen a cup quite so beautiful.”

As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, “You don’t understand. I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me, pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, “Don’t do that. I don’t like it! Let me alone,” but he only smiled, and gently said, “Not yet.”

Then WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was made to suit himself and then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. “Help! Get me out of here!” I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, “Not yet.”

When I thought I couldn’t bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. Oh, that felt so good! “Ah, this is much better,” I thought.

But, after I cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. “Oh, please, stop it, stop, I cried.” He only shook his head and said, “Not yet.”

Then suddenly he puts me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering, “What’s he going to do to me next?”

An hour later he handed me a mirror and said, “Look at yourself.” And I did. I said, “That’s not me. That couldn’t be me. It’s beautiful. I’m beautiful!”

Quietly he spoke: “I want you to remember. I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you alone, you’d have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn’t put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn’t done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn’t put you back in that second oven, you wouldn’t have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you.”

The moral of this story is this: God knows what He’s doing for each of us. He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect.

So when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to “stink”, try this.

Brew a cup of your favorite tea in your prettiest tea cup, sit down and think on this story and then, have a little talk with the Potter.