And that's a wrap~!

“Be an openhearted, trusting, playful, seriously lighthearted skeptic.”

Daily reminders. Necessarily mantras. Root to rise.

As I’m sitting here at the airport, ready, ready, truly ready to return home to Canada, not because I am exhausted or lost or lonely, but because I am so content, fulfilled, recharged AND energized by these four months here - I’m once again repeating my gratitude, my trust, my promises to myself and through myself, all my relations. With immortal tenderness, some final snippets from a blessed last few days co-existing, co-creating with this mystical universe. It’s been magically real, Europe. Until July! <3

“I want to live the life I’m living. And it’s quite a thing. And I’m getting better at it.”

— Normal People

March 4, 2023
7:57AM Binningen 

The beauty of a glistening cake. Caramelized brown butter pineapple coconut upside down cake. Upside down. Glaze. Gift. Joy of creating something tangible we can merge with again in our body. To give and consume. 

The tireless joy of being, being awed by trees and streams, the surprises along a path, the wooden carving of a giant grinning dwarf. A giant dwarf. Derp. Hi. The symphony of birds, the open expansive endless rolling farm lands, the observation of how time passes and a place stays, yet also differently, with infinite variations. 

“The roads you could have taken.” 
Randomness. 
What moves us to do something. Purposefully walking down a stream to mail postcards. Running up stairs to a dead end. Catching ideas. Ideas like fish. 

The duty of lineage. Of art, culture. The obligation and responsibility of our craft. Respecting what we carry, represent, what lives on through us. We’re part of something so awing and powerful. We are storytellers. 

I really like being here.
This is a life. This a life being in the living. 

March 4, 2023
8:54AM Schopfheim 

The gentle warmth of sunlight on the left side of my cheek, the green table cloth, tapestry, handwoven, stones, imprints, years and moments built by a family, nail by nail, chair by chair, every little object with its purpose and memories and spiritual force. 

To build a home. 
Up high in the mountains. 
To wake up to the bright soft yellow glow scattering across the dining room. The sweet song of tiny birds. Gentle laughter. Radio songs. Black sesame cereal with fruits. Avocado toast. Company, conversation. A living. Projects. Tasks. Being here. Say, I am here. 

Here is exactly where I’m supposed to be. 

Blessed. 

It’s not about being envious of what others have, ever. It’s being awed by such beautiful blessed way of life. To witness how it really exists. The farms, the forests, the small Swiss German villages, the lifestyle. This little castle on the hill. 

Just, sitting there on the floor, half on soft carpet, half on cold tiles, staring into the infinite dance of the fireplace, crackling, contorting, blue to orange to yellow to red, and listening to the enveloping textures of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the tingling through the body at each escalating climax of Scriabin’s Poeme D’Extase. From there to here. Here to here. NEC, Montreal, small German cabin. The sounds of ecstasy in Scriabin’s mystical colors. Bursting, soaring, orgasming again and again, exuberant untethered joy and power and light. 

Burning on for eternity. 
Fire in the darkness. 
Scriabin and I. 

May we always remember this feeling. To take space. Take space. 
To allow time and room to breathe and feel process and experience the process of our being. 

March 5, 2023
8:49AM Black Forest

Beethoven. 
Always, forever. Immortal tenderness. 
The deepest, unknowable, yet absolute companionship, understanding, warmth, love, desire, longing, humanity. The timeless love letters. This language that envelops the soul. 

Staring again into the fire, just intently focusing on one thing. Listening. 
A meditative, transportive, exhilarating listening. 
Just the flames, dancing to the drama of the piano cello from the speakers behind. 
And then comes that 3rd movement. 

What joy. 
What youth and cuteness and endearment and hope. Life. It touches the softest sweetest spot. It makes you tear up, want to weep with movement. 
Toes wriggling. 
Butt bouncing. 

The smile on my face is not for anyone, but just myself and perhaps Beethoven somewhere around me, still loving, still playing, still longing. Man’s Joy in Desiring. There. I finally got it right. Bach, too. They were, are, all here with us. 

The humour, the sustaining of excitement and tension in the coda. Elevating, elevating our spirit. That exhilaration, that shuddering electricity down your spine, bringing you suddenly to the contrasting lyricism, the sweetest lifting, floating, suspension. Hop, sway, move, celebrate. 

This is the connection. 
These are moments, so simple, so private, so quiet and small, yet full of something that defies size, space, something real AND mystical. Thank you. Immortal beloved. Always with me. 

3:06PM

We’re back. 
Grandma’s calling out from the balcony. We laugh. She welcomes us home. After a sunny quiet walk on the top of the mountain. Arms swinging, body stretching, ever fibre breathing and expanding and finding space. Small village below us. Wafts of fresh air mixed with manure. Sun, air, breeze, bright grins that come from the most natural part of our spirit. Silences in between. 

Here are generations. 3, 2, 1. 
Grandma, mom, me. 
Some kind of dream reality. This life. 

过小康

A little health. That’s blessedness. 
A weekend spent like this. 
Crafting, building, creating, making a chair, making a sweet potato pie, sharing a lunch. Taking a stroll. Easy, calm, present. 

And now, coffee. Sitting together in the dining room, just being together. 
A brief peak into some kind of like we’ve always dreamed of. Here. Real. In this reality. 
Briefly. 

How do we return from here? 

Translating feelings to art, feelings to expression, action, truth. How? 

“It can be bewildering to attempt to understand ourselves, and other. 
Our unknowable truth. 

Why do we always have to explain ourselves? To defend why we take up space in the first place? What is being ‘allowed’? Can I stand here? Can I eat that? Can I continue to exist? 

Back into the battlefield. But do we have to treat it like a battlefield? Said who, ever? 

What are the fundamental values, principles, habits that this energy here is built on? The beautiful flow of daily teamwork, the patience, the good-humoured nature, the ability to make compromises, thee listening, the respect. Respect for everything. In each small moment that adds up to build a permeating energy that allows peace and joy to shine through as the norm, not as the unattainable ideal. 

How do we return from here?

A ‘lifestyle’. That’s what we’re building. The groundedness. Inner roots, contentment, clarity, satisfaction, pride, joy, confidence in how I continue to exist, together with the people I love most. 

Beautiful routines. Beautiful daily life. Normal life. Being comfortable yet finding challenges to allow myself to discover and be surprised. Where does motivation, innovation come from? Creativity, passion, design thinking, curiosity, ideas, wonder. How do we keep the spark? When does comfort become stagnant, lazy, mundane? 

Does it depend on the person? 

The contrast. 

Gentle laughter early morning, versus chaotic commands and bickering and yelling and nagging and such resentful hostility in each breath, each movement, each gesture. The graceful choreography of routine, clearing out the dishwasher, boiling water for tea, grabbing milk and sitting down for tea, having a moment of silence to speak during the slow morning hours. 

How we set the tone of the day. 

Michael coming downstairs. The first greeting, always with a colour of affection, whether tired or chirpy. “Good morning!” The habits. Warmth, a kiss a the cheek. A touch. Massaging Katrin’s shoulders. First thing. First languages of love. 

Sharing a drink across the table. 
And always before leaving, a goodbye kiss. A gentle girlish laugh from Katrin. Receiving love. 
“Trüss!” Cheerful goodbye call to upstairs, where Marc yells down in response, “Trüss Mama!” 
Heading out the door together. “Have a nice day!” 
Blinds open, Michael derpily smiling and waving with both hands. We trot down the stair. Katrin waves back, still laughing. We comment on the weather. We talk about anything in the car. Or sit in silence. 

This kind of morning. Infinitely repeating with blessed variations. 
If we can always remember to treasure this. 
Simply profound. 

Stay. 
I choose to stay right here. With myself. Wherever myself goes.

And so. “Why am I here?” “What am I doing here?” 
It’s so obvious. 
To exist. Let’s just exist. Let’s shall. 
To be me. To be a process. A verb. To see you, notice you, singular plural, both, everything. To be part of the universe and create with the universe and fulfil my special unique tiny but powerful function. 

That’s why I’m here. 

I won’t know till I know. And that’s awesome. It’s exciting. It’s cool. It’s fun. I love the unknown. I love feeling one with the unknown. 

“What do you want to do with your life?” 
Not just “everything”. 
This. 
Here. Right now. What I’m doing. That’s what I want to do. Being right here. To keep doing what I’m doing. 

This episode, this ‘season’ of Tong-ing is coming to a close. And thanks to the daily moments of reflection, there is such a genuine fulfillment from why, how I have been here. It’s been so, so, so beautiful. Everyday for its memories I can name, remember, recount, the people, things, events, tastes, sights, sensations, sounds, smells, blessedness. This wondrous journey with myself. Where I gave myself the attention and noticing every other being deserves. That is the care, the love. Because I am also everything else. 

Europe 22-23. Fondly. 

I will remember this Tong and all her relations, infinitely fondly.
Hi, Immortal Tenderness. 

27. Bye. Bye Basel. 

T-10 hours till we are on the other side. How wondrously bewildering. This time travel. 

How different Airdrie will feel now? Have I changed? Will my relationship to you change? 

How will you remember to keep your promises. How will you live with time? Keep. Not possessing. Rather, keep constantly letting go. Wait, but you want to hold on to right? Hold on to the principles. Let go of the prejudices and expectations of others and yourself, of your own and other people’s actions and reactions. 

Laugh first. Rest first. Eat first. Then stretch, walk, dance, breathe. Play. Be intentional. Share with someone. Create something. 

Chose anything, own your decision. 

Little ripples. Trust. Through your own light you can illuminate a way. Forwards, backwards, in circles, whatever beautiful movements from whichever direction we happen to look from. 

Bye Europe, by 27. 

And hello 28. Wood Pig. Water Rabbit.