Eis Quos Amo Vivo. A latin phrase I heard it a few weeks ago from a friend visiting Hong Kong. Roughly translated to “For those whom I love, I live” or “I live for those I love,” I took this idea and gently locked it somewhere in my brain to take out for reflection on days like this.
By the way, I should have really updated this thing sooner.
It’s been almost three months since my last entry, and I wonder, how do I come back to this page continuing where I left off? As if nothing happened.
But anyway, back to the point.
I wrote a letter to my brother last week. An actual hand-written letter. I delivered that, a book, and a few gifts to him via his mother-in-law who also happened to be in town. I never usually write to him. I usually would scribble a note that would say “Yo I got you this” and leave it at that. But last week I felt compelled to share some insights brewing in the back of my head.
I told him one of the things I have been questioning myself in life is this, “What’s it all for?” It’s a question that has been coming to me every morning before work. Because in between the meetings, the parties, the trips, the connects, the money, the success, the instalikes, the shoutouts, the hype- I take a long look through all the illusions, all the delusions, and wonder, what the fuck am I doing this for. Really.
So I told him, what his little sister- who he lovingly witnessed trip, bruise herself, and get back up- in so many different countries, and in different scenarios… I told him what she learned.
“Unless you get to share these amazing experiences/things/blessings with the people you love, it’s all bullshit.”
It’s. all. really. just. bullshit. You build this world around you only to find yourself as the only person there. Congratulations, you become a King or Queen in a lonely country. Okay, so you rule yourself. Ruling Just Your Self.
Yet, it’s all ways to fill the void inside your chest. It’s all ways to just prove yourself to the world of people who aren’t even looking and dealing with their own bullshit anyway. It’s all external ways to heal internal wounds that are better treated with introspection, consciousness, pain-body awareness, and faith- and I mean, real faith. But we’re all on our own heart journeys to fill and heal that void. So who am I to judge anyone’s pace.
And I told my brother, “I’m done with bullshit.” He’s done with bullshit. We’re done with bullshit. As I placed more cards in the envelope, I smiled because I knew that although we’ve never really confided in each other like that, it was a new step for our journey as siblings to be able to really have each other’s back.
I sealed the letter with scotch tape. I wrapped it in a simple plastic bag. I left the bag in the hotel lobby trusting that it would be on it’s way to him soon. And then Jon messaged me a few days later saying, “Thanks. I love you.”