Meditations and Musings

poem: ionic

I’m shoring up sermons against Seattle storms,warned of the darkness that settles in the souland lingers, unlike old lovers. I bought a $5 off-white owl mug for teaand a Himalayan salt lamp like Malways lit to welcome us homeand a fuzzy white blanket to fallaround my aching limbsdrained from breaking heartsand stereotypes about minority women.Continue reading “poem: ionic”


When people ask me if I’m writing anything, I want to say, “Yes, I’m collecting fragments.” Because isn’t that what the majority of writing is? Gathering fragments in our small attempts to put the world and ourselves back together? Like this one from Penelope Lively’s City of the Mind: “She starts to sob, the child:Continue reading “whispers”

redefining home

Home is a concept that has undergone many a change in my heart since freshman year of college. Those earlier years of confused dislocation are documented well enough. But this year in particular has forced me to give up the idea of “settling,” or even of having only one home. The longest I lived inContinue reading “redefining home”

work as love

Nobody prepared me for the identity crisis that is “no longer being a student.” I’ve been working as a full-time brand journalist for two weeks now, and I’m face-to-face with the reality of indefinite work and what that means. Not being someone who wants to climb the corporate ladder, I’m having to redefine what growth,Continue reading “work as love”

honest desires

Back in February, over kombucha and apple cider, I was trying to process with one of my mentors about a rapidly approaching decision I had to make. To say yes felt wrong, somehow, but I had no way to explain such an impulse, such a “feeling.” Rationally, I should say yes, I argued. By theContinue reading “honest desires”

poem: untitled

In forsaking the ability to change,they diminish their capacity for hope.—Kathleen Norris, “Dakota” What must it feel liketo not be somebody’s first love? I’m sick of being angry.My therapist said thisis part of grief. I always know I’m home whenI don’t feel Asian enoughfor anyone on social media. I’m afraid to write.“You must trust theContinue reading “poem: untitled”

journal #050221

May 2, 2021 Halfway through my freshman year of college, I wrote a letter to my future graduating self. I found that recently, and although most of the contents were embarrassing there was this little paragraph: “Wherever you are and wherever you’re going, I dearly hope you have only drawn closer to Jesus. He aloneContinue reading “journal #050221”


Forgetfulness is simultaneously a desirable and undesirable thing that flits between conscious striving and my conscience. It’s a defense and an attack. A quick look backwards and our efforts crumble to pieces. The fortress falls. The memory room collapses. And so much clawing can’t get us out. I have wanted to forget the sound ofContinue reading “Remember”

2020 in Books

This year was the year of story. I clung to the narratives I found veined across paper when it felt like my own was crumbling like so much sand between my fingers. In the midst of the wilderness — silences, lengthy depressive episodes, pixels, temptation, lonely nights and lonely walks, difficult but needed good-byes, aContinue reading “2020 in Books”


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