tsivitah

[tsivitah]

"MAYBE TOMORROW"

"...And so on, tomorrows will pile up

And then one day

The day I waited for will come to me..."

 The sound of surviving.

That's what this song is to me.

An ache that wrapped around my chest before I could even understand the words.

Melodies that shed tears from unresolved corners of your soul.

A bundle of desperate feelings.

A silent endurance, one that is weirdly hopeful.

"Maybe tomorrow.. I'll feel lighter,

Maybe it'll be warmer

Maybe tomorrow will be mine to live..."

[tsivitah]

An Empathetic Detachment Study

a reflection on kindness, practice, and the grounded divinity of presence

✧ The Gentle Weight of Listening ✧

There’s something mystifying about historical figures like Jesus — how they walked among chaos and praise, betrayal and awe… and never seemed to flinch.

They didn’t take things personally. Not because they were numb, but because they were anchored in something deeper.

I’ve been turning that thought over like a coin between my fingers.

*

Let me pause here. This isn’t about preaching or converting.

I mention Jesus not as a claim, but as a reference point — one I’m most familiar with. What I’m really doing is reflecting on certain scriptures that… stayed with me.

The ones that sparked this whole thought came from Ephesians 4:2–3 and 29:

“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.”

“Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may impart grace to those who hear.”

When I first read that, I thought: Wow. Sounds like enlightenment. Or a myth. Or maybe something only monks on mountaintops can pull off.

(And I don’t even know much about monks... yet.)

But still — I couldn’t shake it off. How does one actually become completely humble and gentle? What does that look like in a regular, messy, modern life?

I didn’t expect an answer. And then, right in the midst of an ordinary moment, it came.

✧ The Moment Arrives ✧

It came in the most ordinary way.

I was half-listening to my parents talking nearby — not part of the conversation, just… adjacent. Wrapped in my own thoughts.

And then my dad said something.

Calm. Slightly amused. Almost prophetic:

“Exactly! That’s what listening means. To truly see that it’s not about you — to see the real source of the action or speech and not let yourself be moved by it.”

I paused.

Wrote in my notebook: What is listening? What does that mean, truly?

And then I tried it. I tried to listen — not just hear, but see. And something… shifted.

✧ The Revelation ✧

Jesus — not the haloed painting, not the exalted icon — but Jesus the unbothered.

I know, that sounds strange. Unbothered used to mean cold, disinterested, detached.

But what if it can mean something else?

What if Jesus wasn’t detached from people… but from ego?

Not cold. Just clear.

A grounded kind of presence that could hold space for chaos, celebration, misunderstanding, praise, and rejection — all without losing center.

His detachment wasn’t apathy. It was awareness. A presence that stayed soft, even when the world was harsh.

And so I wondered again — but this time, differently.

✧ A Shift in the Question ✧

So maybe Ephesians 4 isn’t asking us to be flawless saints. Maybe it’s inviting us to be present.

Could it be that to be humble, gentle, and patient… means simply to know how to listen?

Not react. Not absorb.

But see beyond the ego — in ourselves and in others.

If true, then maybe the strange analogy that followed wasn’t so strange after all.

✧ A New Understanding ✧

What if gentleness isn’t a trait you’re born with?

What if it’s a practice?

Maybe they’re choices. Maybe they’re habits.

A kind of spiritual muscle memory — built slowly, with awareness and repetition. Practiced until it becomes your natural response. Until presence becomes your posture.

✧ The Willing Practice ✧

Paul once said:

“I die daily.” (1 Corinthians 15:31)

Not a dramatic death — but the daily ego-shedding. The daily choice to respond with clarity instead of impulse.

To speak what is helpful, what is graceful. To remember where you are. Who you are.

To root yourself in that truth.

✧ Spiritual Consciousness ✧

A philosophy student once told me:

“Spiritual consciousness is knowing where you are.”

And maybe that’s what Jesus had.

He knew where He stood. Who he was. So He didn’t get swept away by projections. He met each moment with presence. With love.

Every time.

And so I stand at the edge of that realization, wonder in my eyes, like a curtain has lifted.

Choosing to believe I’m allowed to walk through that door: This isn’t just for saints. This presence. This kindness.

It’s not far away. It’s not unreachable.

It’s a birthright. A practice. A quiet revolution of the self.

Not easy. Not magical.

But real. Accessible.

Something I can move toward — little by little.

Suddenly, “be completely humble and gentle” feels less like an impossible scripture and more like a step I can take.

Not all at once.

But maybe… a little bit today. Now.

[tsivitah]

BLABBERMOUTH

"I Forgot Again"

Sometimes I feel dumb.

Not in a funny, self-deprecating way. Not even in a hopeless way. Just… a strange, still, slightly cold way. As if something short-circuits inside me — a misfire in the moment. I’ll be in conversation, and suddenly, I don’t understand what’s being said. Or worse — I do understand, but the understanding won’t come out. It stays stuck somewhere between my mind and my mouth. My thoughts feel heavy. My face goes still. My limbs feel distant. I try to hold the thread of what’s being asked of me, or what I want to say, but it slips out like fog.

It’s not that I don’t know. I do. I know things. I’ve lived them, felt them, questioned them, written about them. But the second someone looks at me, or asks me something about myself, I forget. It’s like all my thoughts scatter and hide behind curtains. I can't answer simple questions. I lose my words, not because they’re gone, but because I’m suddenly afraid of inviting them out.

I think that’s what scares me the most. Not the forgetting — but the shrinking away. The way I sometimes doubt even what I know best, because I can’t seem to say it in a way that feels real. I become detached, like I’m observing my own mind from outside it. I don’t feel bad for myself — not in a pitying way. It’s more like... a quiet disappointment, a confusion. Like being stuck inside a maze I built myself, where I know the exit is near but can’t explain how to reach it.

In therapy group, I’ve noticed I rarely speak about myself. Not really. I offer comfort, I nod, I smile when others open up. I recognize their pain. I know how to support, how to reflect, how to say kind things to someone else. But when it comes to me? I disappear. If a moment arrives where I could be vulnerable — really, truly let someone see me — I slide out of it. I talk about the past like it was someone else’s life. I share the lightest layer of something and then quickly move on. I don’t dive in. I don’t let anyone stay with me there.

And the worst part is, sometimes I lie. Not to deceive, but to avoid. I smooth over things. I pretend something was easier or sweeter or more resolved than it actually was, just so I don’t have to explain the messy truth of it all. I guess it’s safer to feel invisible than to feel exposed. Vulnerability feels like a risk I’m not sure I’m allowed to take — or maybe don’t know how to take yet.

It’s strange to write this. To admit it, even just to myself. But maybe this is me trying. Maybe saying it here is my first breadcrumb — the first soft signal that I do want to be seen, even if I don’t know how to stand still long enough for someone to really look.

I know awareness is a start. I know that giving language to something, even clumsy language, is a form of return. A reclaiming. So maybe I’ll forget again. Maybe I’ll freeze again. Maybe I’ll still struggle to answer questions about myself. But now… at least I’ve said it. At least I’ve written it down.

And maybe that’s enough, for now.

[tsivitah]

A Tomorrow with Pieces of Yesterday

Dot-Dot Momentum

As I sat wrapped in the comfort of my bedroom,

my eyes drifted to my small library corner—

a quiet archive of stories, a collection I call my own.

And in that moment, an epiphany bloomed.

It all circled back.

The endless scavenging through my parents' book closet,

picking out titles that sparked curiosity,

choosing covers that whispered mysteries—

somehow, in some way, led me here.

To this.

A shelf of my own, a testament to time.

And then, a realization:

Much of who we are is woven from the threads of our past.

Each chapter of childhood,

each season of growing up,

an intricate stitch connecting yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

I see it now—

my utopian dream is not a distant unknown,

but an echo of the safest, happiest moments I once lived, a tomorrow that resembles yesterday.

I yearn for yesterday.

For what I had, for what I felt.

To breathe that same air, to run across that same field.

To care for a pet, to cherish a home, to nurture a family.

For the things I admired, the spaces I once called mine,

are the foundation of my reality today—

the vision board of my tomorrow.

I am not stuck in yesterday.

This is a moment of revelation.

There is nothing I seek that is beyond me.

Everything I wish for—today, tomorrow—

is within me.

The happy, comfortable, fulfilled me.

No, I am not yesterday.

But yesterday is a part of me.

It lingers in my experiences, my emotions, my thoughts.

And while we often speak of leaving behind pain,

of moving past difficult memories,

we forget to honor the light, too—

the sunrises and gentle joys,

the moments of warmth that shaped us just as much.

The house I lived in the longest,

the very first one built by my parents' sweat and dreams,

was home.

A place where geese patrolled the night alongside our German Shepherd.

Where rabbits roamed the garden, nibbling on endless leaves—

and occasionally my mother’s succulents.

Where pigeons and birds perched in the trees,

resting among the seasonal fruits.

Where ducks and chickens coexisted

in their own semi-harmonious, chaotic society.

A place to run, roll, jump, and rest.

A place where pop music hummed through the walls,

where warm meals filled the air with comfort.

Where I daydreamed,

wrote amateur love stories,

studied psychology books,

and inspected every word in the dictionary.

Where dolls had lives,

where pens and pencils played out telenovelas of my making.

I made my bed, cleaned the bathroom,

washed the dishes, prepared meals.

I sat under the night sky,

my dog by my side—

a companion, a friend, a silent understanding.

I was home.

That was my home.

And all of that still lives within me.

In memory, in dreams, in goals, in character.

In the pages I turn.

In the paths I walk.

In the tomorrow I build—

piece by piece, from yesterday.

[tsivitah]

BLABBERMOUTH

The Problem With Preconceived Perceptions:

- A Comedy of Assumptions

A BRIEF introduction to my character is that I am a very private person. I rarely share my hobbies, plans, or ideas with others—regardless of how close we are—unless I feel there is a secure space or a deep enough level of trust. Otherwise, I say nothing about myself or my interests. funny enough most people I've interacted with haven't even took the time to analyse such ark and simply designed a version of me according to their own internal perception of the world, which again its fine, that's what humans do, it's in our nature.

But it’s always amusing when people realize they’ve built a version of me in their heads that has nothing to do with reality. The reactions are almost theatrical:

“OMG, YOU take the public bus?! I thought you never experienced that before!”

“YOU cook? Since when?”

“YOU know how to clean this?! I thought you never even touched a broom before!”

Ah yes, because surely, I float through life untouched by the common human experience. Naturally, my existence somehow betrayed their script, and now they’re scrambling to make sense of the plot twist. Some people even seem offended—as if I personally deprived them of information they were entitled to.

Which, by the way, is hilarious. Because people expect you to casually hand over every detail of your life without them ever asking, and they don't either — " I care but I don't reeeeally care". That’s not how things work. You don’t see a serial killer randomly announcing their crimes to a stranger in the supermarket.

“Hey, just so you know, I abduct this specific kind of people on Wednesdays around 8 PM in this specific alley.”

It doesn't flow like that, he will on the other hand reveal it to the victim —the one who actually asks the wrong question at the wrong time... at least according to the movies.

And you? You were never that victim.

At first, these assumptions used to bother me. Not because I cared about what people thought, but because the entitlement behind them was absurd. There was always this underlying tone of "How dare you not tell me this sooner?"—as if they were robbed of a truth they never actually bothered to discover. It’s as if people expect the world to neatly present itself according to their assumptions, and when reality doesn’t align, they react with shock or even offense.

Preconceptions, aren't they funny?!

After years of feeling misunderstood, I realized it’s not my job to make people see me accurately. We all view reality through our own lenses—that’s just how we’re wired.

Why Do We Do This?

Humans are wired to make assumptions. It’s how we navigate the world—categorizing people, behaviours, and experiences into neat little boxes so our brains don’t have to process every new interaction from scratch. The problem isn’t the assumption itself; it’s the certainty with which people hold onto it.

We all do this, even to others. We take one look at someone’s demeanour, habits, or even their silence, and we craft a version of them that fits within our own understanding of the world. I do it too. And because of that, I’ve become selective about who gets access to different parts of me. Maybe that’s self-preservation, maybe it’s a product of past experiences, or maybe it’s just my way of ensuring that when I do share, it’s with those who actually list. I don't know, but it works.

The Takeaways

I’ve reached a place where I no longer expect people to see me as I am. If they do, great. If they don’t, that’s fine too. It’s not my responsibility to correct their perception, nor do I owe anyone an explanation for simply existing in ways they didn’t predict.

And if there’s anyone who mastered this, it was Lord Jesus Himself. He walked among people who constantly misunderstood him—some calling him a blasphemer, others trying to trap him into proving their own biases right. But he never wasted time arguing about his identity. He simply kept doing what he was meant to do, revealing himself only to those who truly sought to understand. That’s the kind of confidence I aspire to—the kind that doesn’t flinch at people’s limited perceptions but moves with quiet assurance, knowing that the truth doesn’t need an announcement.

So, if you ever find yourself in a situation where someone acts shocked by a simple truth about you, just remember: it’s their preconception that failed them, not you. Smile, nod, and go on living your life.

Because, at the end of the day, you were never their victim.

[tsivitah]

Dot-Dot Momentum

Shades Of A Thing With No Name

Guestroom

“Oh!... it’s you again.”

Another booking, I see… You must really like our lounge to

become such a devoted regular.

What intrigues you, I wonder?

Every visit, you sign up for all our services:

the morning tangent rambles,

our cocky brunches,

evening whispers of unspoken desires,

the midnight midlife crises spa ritual,

and those weekend hikes to Mount Wonder.

In our cosy teddy-bear shade, our regular guest settles in…

As I watch you, coming as you are—blinding me with your light,

I feel a peculiar swirl of emotions,

an unsteady warmth and an ache,

shimmering and out of reach.

There’s a sense of wonder here, maybe even fear, as if by simply being,

you reflect pieces of myself I hadn’t yet known.

This truly is something I can’t quite name,

feelings that gently but persistently urge me

to clumsily and shyly ask if you’d care to join me for a coffee chat.

[tsivitah]

Classroom Articles

The Back Drawer Effect of Perception

To interpret and understand the data that our mind receives—perception—is one of the trickiest and most natural qualities of human cognition. As Immanuel Kant argued, our perceptions actively shape our external reality rather than merely reflecting it.

Research suggests that the human brain generates between 6,000 to 70,000 thoughts per day. Astonishingly, 80-90% of these thoughts are repetitions of "yesterday's logic", meaning most of what we think today is recycled from the past.

These recurring thoughts influence our beliefs, ethics, choices, and actions, leading us to question: How impactful is our subconscious programming, a.k.a our mental “back drawer”?

The Back Drawer: Subconscious Conditioning

The back drawer consists of stored mental patterns shaped by childhood experiences, social conditioning, and repeated life events.

For instance, if you were frequently told as a child that you’re “not good at math,” your subconscious mind would reinforce this belief, affecting your confidence and effort in the subject. Over time, this internalized belief manifests in real-world struggles, regardless of actual ability.

Dr. Joe Dispenza famously stated: "Neurons that fire together, wire together."

Our brains automate repeated thoughts and behaviors, making change feel difficult and unnatural.

This leads to a self-reinforcing cycle of perception and reality:

Same Thoughts → Same Choices → Same Behaviors → Same Experiences → Same Feelings → Repeated Thoughts

Unless actively interrupted, this cycle continues indefinitely. As Daniel Kahneman puts it: "The mind defaults to past patterns unless actively interrupted."

The Subjective Nature of Truth

My father once gave me a perspective-changing lesson in elementary school. He said: "Two people may witness the same event but interpret it in completely different ways."

This happens constantly in society, revealing that perception is shaped by personal experience, emotions, and cognitive biases.

As Friedrich Nietzsche argued: "There are no facts, only interpretations."

Truth, then, is often subjective. What one person sees as undeniable, another might challenge based on their unique perspective.

(For example, some people argue that Taka—better known as Scar from The Lion King—was driven to villainy because Mufasa stole his ultimate crush. While I disagree, the debate itself shows how perception influences narrative.)

Rewiring Perception & Thought Patterns

To transform perception, one must be open and eager to:

1. Actively Question Core Beliefs

Self-introspection is key. Ask yourself:

What beliefs are limiting me?

Where did they come from?

What evidence do I have to challenge them?

2. Implement a “Delulu” Strategy for Success

("Delulu" = conscious belief in an optimistic, alternative reality until it becomes true.) As William James said: "Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does."

3. Commit to Repetition & Exploration

New beliefs, thoughts, and actions must be practiced repeatedly to override the subconscious back drawer. Growth is often chaotic, but necessary.

If you grew up believing that money is hard to make, actively seek proof that contradicts this belief.

If you were conditioned to fear failure, intentionally expose yourself to small failures and reframe them as lessons.

Conclusion

The thoughts we hold, consciously or unconsciously, dictate the reality we experience. The mind is a powerful tool—it can either keep us trapped in old patterns or propel us toward transformation.

The question is: Will you consciously design your reality, or will you let the past decide it for you?

_____

Inspired by:

This post was inspired by the thought-provoking video “Give Me 21 Minutes and You’ll Never Suffer Again – You’re Stuck on a Loop”. The video explores the power of subconscious programs, repeated thought patterns, and how they shape our reality. It offers deep insights into how our minds can be reprogrammed for transformation.

🎥 Watch it here:

[tsivitah]

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[tsivitah]

BLABBERMOUTH

The Reduction of Value of OTHER Religions – A Personal Reflection

1. Context: The Devotional That Sparked These Thoughts

I was reading a morning devotional when I came across this passage:

"Though Jesus beckons the entire world, His invitation is also exclusive. Because all paths, all religions, and all good intentions do not lead to God. Jesus isn’t implying that we can earn our own salvation by searching the hardest or climbing the highest or praying the longest to find some elusive gate. Instead, Jesus makes it clear in John 10:7, saying, ‘I am the gate…’”

I understand the message: Jesus is the way. Period. But something about the wording unsettled me. Is it right to reduce the value of other religions in such a passive yet firm manner? Are they implying that anyone who isn’t Christian is automatically condemned?

2. The Questions That Linger

These words left me with so many questions:

Are they implying that everyone who isn’t Christian will go to Hell?

Could it be that the only way to have a connection with Jesus is through Christianity?!

Doesn't God see the heart beyond religious labels?

What about the Muslim woman who loves deeply, lives by kindness, and follows truth as she understands it? Would God dismiss her entirely just because she believes Muhammad came after Jesus?

Does that really matter?

And then I remembered Isaiah 55:9—

"For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."

If God's ways are beyond our understanding, why do we act as if we have fully grasped His judgment system?

3. A Perspective Check – What Is Our Role?

I find it wrong to claim to know exactly how God thinks, works, and manages life. That’s beyond human understanding.

It’s not our place to judge our brothers.

It’s not our place to define someone else’s outcome.

It’s not our place to decide who God does and doesn’t reach.

All we truly know of God comes from scripture, written by those anointed to share His nature with us. But even then, what we receive is only a glimpse—an idea of how He works, not the full picture.

And that’s okay.

I’d rather focus on my own role—to love, to serve, to be a living reflection of grace—instead of trying to understand something far beyond my comprehension. I mean, I’m not that smart anyway, so why stress over it?

4. Spirituality Is Personal

I once read something that stuck with me:

"Just because you don’t eat a certain food or follow a certain ritual because your relationship with God doesn’t allow it, doesn’t mean the same applies to someone else."

Faith isn’t one-size-fits-all. Relationships are unique. And as long as they are healthy, intentional, and rooted in truth, who am I to interfere in someone else’s journey?

5. Finding My Own Path Back

I was wrongly introduced to Christianity, and it left a negative mark on me. So, I stepped away. And honestly? That distance helped.

This is my third-ish attempt at having a healthy relationship with God.

It allowed me to explore life in a different light—to question, unlearn, and relearn. I don’t regret it. In fact, I think it was necessary. Because now, I’m coming back—not out of fear or guilt, but because I want to.

And surprisingly, it feels grounding. This Holy Spirit, this presence—it’s real, personal, and alive. Almost like… a Pokémon companion, guiding me through life. (Yes, I just made that comparison, and I stand by it.)

That’s what I believe spirituality should be. Personal. Intimate. Sacred.

6. Final Thoughts

It should bring peace.

It should lead us to choose love over every other emotion.

It should enlighten us.

It should bring us closer to our purpose and to the beauty of being alive.

I don’t have all the answers, and I never will—thankfully. I wouldn’t want that burden of a gift.

But I am comfortable with that.

I don't need to define the full scope of God's judgment—I only need to live in the love He has given me.

So, instead of debating who is in and who is out, maybe we should focus on living life with humility, kindness, and grace.

Because at the end of the day, I’d rather reflect God’s love than try to control who receives it.

_____

A Little Note Before You Go:

I’m not speaking for every Christian out there, nor am I an expert on how other religions function. I write based on my own experiences and life circumstances.

I’m comfortable with disagreement—just as I disagreed with what initially sparked this post.

Wishing you all a good life. 😊

[tsivitah]

Dot-Dot Momentum

Shade Of A Thing With No Name

The Office.

“이렇게, 이렇게...”

Fascinating, how two minds work together.

How both can’t fathom—

how both reach an epiphany,

how both disagree,

yet humor each other all the same.

"어떡해, 어떡해"

Funny, sometimes a bit strange... Heck it can even feel invasive!

Invasive to share this clumsy shade with you—

a shade cast by two minds leaning close,

acrobating thoughts like light and shadow stamping on our walls.

"아,..."

There’s something grounding here,

something that makes each idea a little lighter,

a little more bearable to hold,

as we shape the unknown into words that We do not know the names of, but surely they are words that almost fit,

right here, in this office— with you.

[tsivitah]

BLABBERMOUTH

"I Die Daily"

- 1Cor. 15:31

Change is rarely kind. It does not knock politely or wait for permission. It tears through, unmaking what I thought was solid and forcing me into the unknown.

I resist it, of course. To change is to lose something—to break apart the comfort of what I know, even if what I know is small, selfish, or stagnant. And yet, there is still a need in me to die daily.

Break Me!

How does one surrender to this breaking? I wish to let go of the self-centered desires that cling so tightly to what is easy, familiar, and unchallenged.

Like monks who strip away distractions, abandoning the indulgences of the world—not because they hate life, but because they seek to truly live it. To exist without the inner noise. To embrace discipline, selflessness, silence, and surrender. To break their egos, their desires, their illusions of permanence. And in doing so, they become.

Lead Me to Chaos

A seed must be buried before it can grow. A shell must crack before new life can emerge. A caterpillar dissolves into chaos before it can take flight.

So why must I fear being broken? Why do I resist the very process that leads to becoming?

Perhaps because breaking is painful. Letting go of my desires, my comforts, my illusions—it feels impossible. It is an active destruction of self, not a passive one. To break, I must step willingly into chaos. But surely, destruction is not the end—only an end to what once was. The past, too, dies daily so the present can exist. So what if destruction is not death—but a beginning?

"Do This"

Jesus took the bread, broke it, and gave it away. "This is my body, given for you; do this in remembrance of me." (Luke 22:19)

“Do this.” Break myself—my selfishness, my pride, my resistance. “Do this.” Serve. Love. Be present. Live. “Do this.” And become more than I ever was before.

Transformation is chaotic. It is bumpy. It is painful. But the blessings on the other side? They are ones I could never have reached if I had not died, if I had not broken, if I had not surrendered.

I die daily. So that I may truly live.

[tsivitah]

BLABBERMOUTH

Honoring Your Body as a Sacred Temple: A Daily Puja of Self-Love

Inspired by The Mastery of Love by Don Miguel Ruiz, this post explores the profound relationship we have with our bodies and the need to nurture them as sacred temples. One way to embody this wisdom is by performing a daily puja—a sacred ritual—for our own body. The idea is to honor our physical existence, recognizing that we are the gods of our own form, responsible for nurturing and respecting the life within us.

The Tale of Artemis, the Forest, and Hercules

In The Mastery of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz tells a story about Artemis, the divine huntress who loved and protected the forest. She lived in harmony with nature, ensuring that every creature thrived. However, when Hercules—whom no one had ever been able to hunt—entered her life, she became obsessed with conquering him. She poured all her energy into this pursuit, neglecting the very forest she once cherished. Her relentless obsession instilled fear in all living beings, disrupting the balance she had once so lovingly maintained.

By the end of her journey, she realized the destruction she had caused and humbly asked for forgiveness from every flower in the forest. This story reminds us that in the pursuit of external goals, we often neglect the very things that make us whole—our bodies, our well-being, and our inner peace.

We Are the Guardians of Our Own Bodies

Just as Artemis was the guardian of the forest, we are the guardians of our own bodies. Every living cell within us depends on the choices we make—what we eat, how we rest, and how we treat ourselves. If we neglect our physical and emotional well-being, we create imbalance and disharmony. But when we choose to nurture and care for our bodies, we cultivate an inner world that flourishes with strength, vitality, and peace.

The Ripple Effect: How Our Relationship with Our Bodies Affects Others

When we mistreat our bodies, we are more prone to insecurity, irritation, and self-doubt. These emotions seep into our relationships, affecting our ability to connect authentically. On the other hand, when we practice self-care—eating well, staying active, resting, and treating ourselves with kindness—we radiate confidence, love, and compassion, strengthening our interactions with the world around us.

Shyness as Fear: Choosing Love Over Judgment

Many of us hold back from embracing our full selves due to fear—fear of judgment, rejection, or not being "enough." This fear often manifests in how we treat our bodies. We hesitate to dance freely, to wear what we love, or to nourish ourselves with care because somewhere along the way, we absorbed the belief that we must meet someone else’s standards.

But love dismantles fear. When we choose to see our bodies with love rather than criticism, we reclaim our power. Our bodies are not flawed—they are sacred vessels, deserving of care and celebration.

Breaking Free from Inherited Beliefs

Many of our beliefs about our bodies are not our own; they were given to us by society, family, and cultural expectations. We are taught what is "beautiful" and what is "acceptable." But in reality, the mere fact that we exist is a miracle. We are living manifestations of life itself. Instead of trying to fit into a predetermined mold, we should honor our unique existence.

A Daily Puja for Your Body

In many spiritual traditions, a puja is a ritual of devotion and reverence. What if we treated our bodies with the same sacred devotion?

A personal puja for your body might include:

Offering forgiveness. Just as Artemis asked for forgiveness, take a moment to acknowledge any ways you may have neglected or mistreated your body. Speak words of kindness to yourself.

Cleansing with care. Take a mindful shower or bath, appreciating the sensation of water on your skin as a form of renewal.

Nourishing yourself. Eat foods that fuel and energize you, treating each meal as an offering to your well-being.

Moving with love. Whether through yoga, dancing, stretching, or a simple walk—engage in movement that feels joyful and life-affirming.

Resting and restoring. Prioritize sleep and relaxation, recognizing them as essential forms of self-care.

Adorning yourself. Wear clothes that make you feel confident, apply lotion to care for your skin, and engage in rituals that make you feel loved and beautiful.

Your puja doesn’t have to look the same every day. The key is to cultivate a sense of reverence and gratitude for your body in ways that feel meaningful to you.

Conclusion: Returning to Love

Artemis found her way back to love and balance by recognizing her missteps and choosing a new path. We must do the same with our bodies. By treating ourselves with kindness, respect, and devotion, we honor the miracle of our existence.

Your body is your temple. Love it. Care for it. Celebrate it.

[tsivitah]

Imaginary Archive 💡:

A Need For FUN!.. and order!✨️

Starring🎬:

Ronny & Her Dopamine Menu Series 🦆

The Frustration of Time Slipping Away

Like many, I found myself replacing boredom with endless online entertainment. Hours passed, and I had no memory of what I’d actually done. I had become the embodiment of tedium—a frustrating spirit craving action but too lazy to move.

Being blessed (or cursed, depending on the day) with the energy of an ADHD Pokémon, I’ve always struggled with routines. Not because I didn’t want them, but because they rarely lasted. And when they failed, my mood crashed with them.

But here’s the thing—I thrive on creativity. I love making things, and doing nothing? That’s what truly kills me. 🙃

So, as unpleasant as it was, I had to acknowledge that my life strategy needed a revamp. Plus, it was the New Year—the season when the spirit of introspection and yearly goals knocks at your door. (Mind you, I refused to open, but they ambushed me when I came back from the convenience store.)

As they narrated the oh-so-dreaded speech about self-improvement, I mindlessly scrolled through YouTube and stumbled upon a video titled Making My Dopamine Menu or something along those lines. I was confused. A menu for dopamine? But before I could overthink it, the spirits clicked on the video, and my world changed. (Or at least, it did four dopamine menu videos later.)

What is a Dopamine Menu?

A dopamine menu is a structured, yet flexible list of activities designed to bring joy, productivity, and self-fulfilment into daily life. Instead of mindlessly scrolling or getting stuck in analysis paralysis, you have a menu of engaging options tailored to your interests and needs.

Why I Needed One

I knew I needed something fun to pull me out of autopilot and steer my attention toward what truly matters:

My growth

My well-being

My present (because let’s be real, she holds at least 45% of the responsibility for my future)

I wanted to give meaning to my days, to remember what I had done yesterday, to reconnect with my inner child, and—most importantly—to create. So, off to my board I went.

How I Created My Dopamine Menu

1. The Theme (Yes, a Duck—It Could Have Been Worse)

If you haven’t noticed by now—I like ducks. They are CUTE. Shut up.

Naturally, my dopamine menu design took inspiration from an old coffee trailer project template I had. I wanted something fun yet structured, visually pleasing, and easy to follow.

2. The Three Sections

Much like a well-balanced meal, my dopamine menu has three categories:

• 🥖 The Bread (Starters) – Quick activities to kickstart my mood, mostly in the mornings. These prevent me from doom-scrolling or staring into the void. Fun fact: boredom is just your brain asking for something better.

• 💖 Sour Hearts (The Main Course) – Activities for when I have too much time or that oh crap, I forgot I had time realization. These keep me engaged in things that align with my future self.

• ☕ Have a Sip Dip (No Time Stamp Needed) – Evening activities that don’t require a strict schedule but still add value.

Gardening almost made the list, but for now, I’ll settle for studying it. Who knows? A menu update might be in order soon.

3. Structuring My Time

To avoid decision fatigue, I incorporated a weekly/daily schedule alongside the menu. This helps me stick to my dopamine plan while allowing flexibility. I even developed optional habit tracker templates for those who want to join me in this experiment (feel free to download and adapt them!i added the link by the end of the ramble).

The Impact of My Dopamine Menu

Since implementing it, my life has transformed:

✔ I stay on top of things. ✔ I always have a general idea of how I’ll spend my time. ✔ I’m less bored. ✔ I’m more present in both my life and the lives of those around me. ✔ My room is less of a disaster. ✔ I remember where I left my things (mostly). ✔ I engage more deeply in activities. ✔ I’m far more productive. ✔ I’m less impatient. ✔ My mind is actually at peace—like, truly peaceful.

Even the smallest achievements, like cleaning my room, feel fulfilling. meaning, until I discover a better strategy, this is the one I’ll stick with.

The Fluidity of the Dopamine Menu

One of the best things about the Dopamine Menu is that it’s not a rigid, unchangeable structure—it’s a living system that grows and adapts with you.

Take gardening, for example. Right now, I’m more in the phase of learning about it rather than actually digging in the dirt. So instead of forcing it onto my list as a daily activity, I’ve placed it in the realm of “future possibilities.” But when the time comes—maybe next month, maybe next year—I can update my menu to reflect that.

The beauty of the Dopamine Menu is that it respects your evolution. If an activity stops exciting or inspiring you, swap it out. If you discover a new passion, make space for it. If life circumstances change, let the menu shift with them.

The goal isn’t to lock yourself into a set routine forever—it’s to create a system that supports your energy, curiosity, and joy at any given moment in time.

So, don’t be afraid to erase, rewrite, and redesign. Your Dopamine Menu is yours to shape. 😊

How to Create Your Own Dopamine Menu from Scratch

If this concept speaks to you, here’s how you can build your own:

1. Reflect on What Energizes You

What activities make you feel alive or at peace?

What hobbies have you abandoned but still feel drawn to?

What small things make your day just a little bit better?

2. Categorize by Mood & Energy

Low-effort, quick wins → Morning boosters (Starters)

Deep work, meaningful engagement → Core passions (Main Course)

Relaxing, occasional treats → Leisure & fun (Drinks & Dips)

3. Make It Visually Appealing

Design it like a restaurant menu (like I did, with Ronny the Duck 🦆)

Use a simple bullet journal format

Create a digital board on Notion or Trello

4. Incorporate Flexibility

Don’t treat it like a rigid to-do list.

Allow yourself to switch things up weekly/monthly.

Adjust activities based on your evolving interests.

5. Track Your Journey (Optional)

I created a habit tracker template (which you can download for free!).

Logging activities can help you notice patterns and appreciate small wins.

"If you create your own Dopamine Menu, I’d love to hear about it! What’s on your list? 💛"

___

If this concept speaks to you, why not give it a try? To make it easier, I’ve created a free habit tracker template to help you stay on track. Download it here: [Dopamine Habit Tracker]

[tsivitah]

Dot-Dot Momentum

Shades of a thing with no name

Window frame

"It’s not as scary as it looks… the shade’s just a bit crooked from the weird angle.”

Isn’t it something, to share a dream? As idealistic and grounded as it gets, we share a dream.

“Dreams, darling.”

Right, dreams.

Looking out at this winding path, full of twists and shadows, of things we’ve never seen, I feel that familiar tug of fear. But with your hand in mine… it’s still scary.

“lol, waifuu.”

But at least my hand feels warm, my heartbeat steady, my eyes determined, my feet eager to take each next step.

Huh! This crooked shade isn’t as frightening when we see it together.

“That’s right, dearest.”

“We’ve got this.”

Yes, we definitely can do this—together.

[tsivitah]

BLABBERMOUTH

A One-of-a-Kind Day

Lately, I’ve noticed that in prayer, I’ve developed the phrase: “Thank you for allowing me to live this one-of-a-kind day.”

This small reflection has shifted my way of seeing each moment—to be present, grateful, loving, and (on occasion) focused. It honestly makes everything feel more enjoyable. There’s no romanticization of things—or maybe there is, and I just haven’t realized it yet (lol). But as I write this, no—it has nothing to do with romance (eye roll). It’s about living with meaning, about living consciously. It’s about understanding the value of a day and its purpose.

Letting Go

Acknowledging that I’m living a one-of-a-kind lifetime, in a one-of-a-kind multiverse, on a one-of-a-kind day has taught me to let go.

Gone is the need to control the uncontrollable. Long gone (well, it’s been about a week or less, but still...) are the days when I worried about what this or that person thinks. So what if Gustav is probably considering leaving the pool because I showed up? Why should it matter? After all, I paid to use this space too. I should allow myself to be, to exist, and to enjoy my existence.

Being My Own Priority

I’ve made me my primary priority. Not in a selfish way—maybe in an egocentric way?—but in a human way. My focus is on being me, and enhancing this me in ways that allow me to inhale what the truly privileged call peace.

I deserve that, at the very least.

The Beauty of Not Being in Control

I can’t control everything, and honestly? I’m glad. There is no authority in me to take on the baggage of the wounds of others' souls.

Living a one-of-a-kind day has taught me that I don’t need to grasp so tightly to every atom around me. If control is truly something i desperately need, well, I myself am a great candidate for me to control. My my mind, my emotions and choices, which all depend on me to flow, aren't easy tasks!

That's enough of controlling I'd ever need.

Every day is different, just like how our fingers are different, and as I learn to accept that, I find more awareness, more love, within me.

And With that, I am able to simply live my one-of-a-kind life.

[tsivitah]

Dot-Dot Momentum

Prespective

There is no value in entertaining negativity within me, for it does not serve me in any way. If I cannot like you, may I at the very least find you indifferent—but I do not wish to hate you, because I refuse to abide in hate.

As I continue transforming into and with love, opposing emotions lose their grip on my character. And so, as a self-reminder:

"For the sake of my own greatness. So that I may maintain a respectful perspective, one that is reminiscing good memories... I must keep our relationship as that, memories."

[tsivitah]

Imaginary Archive💡:

The Making of Blooming Shadows

Part One: The Seed

Picture this:

I’m with my baby cousins and siblings on our holiday family trip. We were all walking down the condo’s hill, searching for our other cousins to have lunch together.

At the time, I had just started writing Vetoed Trail, a fanfiction novel about a female lead who stumbles upon a royal ship navigating the depths of the sea in search of the lost prince of a neighboring kingdom. To be honest, it was more like a forced romance novel. I used to call it an adventure novel due to the many challenging scenes and tribulations the team had to face once they entered the foster house of the Sea Mother's children, The Vetoed Trail.

The original Book cover for Vetoed Trail (Had to screenshot it from my draft on wattpad)

ANYHOW, back to our main point! I was charged with the will of— eager to publish another story on my little Wattpad account, so I asked my cousins, “What kind of story would you guys suggest I write next?” Mind you, they were around 8 to 13 years old. One of them said:

“Something where there’s a secret they must get to the bottom of!”

“Yeah! Make it haunted!”

“About teamwork!”

I kid you not, the more they kept talking, the more I saw Scooby-Doo and his human companions!

I liked their suggestions so much that I found myself calibrating a story with the following fundamentals in mind:

Okay, so the three main plots were set. Now all I had to do was set the scenes and the characters.

I wanted to focus on my main crowd and keep a fixed style on my account, meaning this story had to also be a fanfiction.

“A fanfiction about friends and a curse… I can make them stuck? You know, force them to find out the truth so they can free themselves from this said curse… But then who will play the roles of my dear characters? Which fan base should I attempt to entertain?” I asked myself.

At that time, I wasn’t confident that if I were to write an original story with original names, people would find it interesting. Also, it’s Wattpad—no disrespect to Wattpad or anything, but we all know that most things that go on there are fanfictions and Mafia boss fantasies and whatnots. Little young me wanted to be seen. Writing an adult fantasy about a mafia boss wasn’t really my thing, but I WAS A FAN. So much so that I had already written a full-on dimension where all the characters were literal famous K-pop idols that Koreaboo me adored. Turning my mystery book into a fanfiction was, indeed, an easy task. All I needed to do was choose the group—and what better group to play my characters than the one and only BTS!

Thus, it was settled. BTS are my protagonists. This is pretty great!

Why? Because I could use the idea of them to assist in creating the characters' personalities. I repeat, the idea of them. I don’t know these men on any personal level, but I sure do love their music.

My “spidey senses” were tingling! An alert was sent to my creative department down in the Map of the Soul maze, and thus JINXED was born!

The original Book cover for JINXED (Also had to screenshot it from my draft on wattpad MIND YOU I HATED THE NAME !!!!!)

As I was using BTS members' names to write the chapters of my story, I found myself being consumed by my then-favorite album of theirs, Young Forever. With every twist and turn in the storyline, I drew inspiration from the emotions each song on that album portrayed to me. And so, this story that I was experimenting on became something very dear and personal to me.

I was seeing myself in every character:

Jungkook was playing the role of my anxious self.

Namjoon was my smart and logical mask.

Jimin was the part of me that wants to tend to people’s needs and assist—the people-pleaser.

I saw myself being depicted in different names and bodies as if they had a life of their own.

I have to be honest: by the time I had finished writing around 20-ish chapters, I saw the need to stop and re-do the plot! LOL.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like how the story was progressing. It was more of a need to remove the names of my favorite artists because it was making me feel a bit conflicted and uncomfortable… and also, I needed a rebrand.

And with that, back to the chalkboard I went!

Already knowing what I was working with, I knew which things needed change and improvement. I now had a solid foundation of what I was writing about. I mean, I was literally 20 chapters into the storyline—I had a basic understanding of what I was doing… right?

2023 and Jinxed was in the editing department!

We had to:

Change the name

Divide the book into three main parts

Make the characters more human

Slow down the pace

Define the main genres!

Now, the story revolves around:

Curious about how the draft version of Blooming Shadows turned out? It’s not a finished book, but it represents the core events and spirit of the story. If you’d like to be part of the journey and witness the evolution of this project, you’re more than welcome to join me in the making of it! Click here!:)

And with this, Blooming Shadows began its creative process.

___

Stay tuned for the next chapter!