Another 5 am post (4:59 am, to be exact), but this time I’m typing from the study in Jarrod’s home.
And it feels like home to me.
I’m up because of thoughts, and I want some space to get them out so I can fall asleep again. Am outside the bedroom this time because my noisy keyboard kept Jarrod awake the last time I was in bed and typing. (T’was the previous 5 am post. I thought it was the light. No, it’s the sound.)
So, now that I’m here, comfy and loud and bright, what is it that I needed to type away at?
“In love, in war, and in business…
the things that work are the same.”
I heard this — or something along these lines — while I was quietly listening a few days ago.
That the things that work in one are the things that work in the others.
The amount of care, for example, will directly impact the result.
Two of my teammates (arugh is teammates one word, with a dash, or two? one.) casually mentioned that when they had time to themselves, they were constantly thinking about their business, and how to do better. These two teammates, obviously, are doing pretty well.
Jarrod’s constantly thinking about his business, coachings and trainings and getting more people. And he’s been planning ahead for us and our dates.
I’m gonna bet that the people more likely to win wars are the ones who pay attention to everything, who think of strategies and see potential problems and create solutions all the time.
To be loved is to be known. And to pay attention is to care.
These aren’t my quotes. The former floats around relationship advice circles, while the latter comes somewhere from… Four Thousand Weeks, I believe.
To be obsessive. To want something. To state your intentions clearly. To then do many things about it.
Healing… (and a little more)
Jarrod asks for massages sometimes (sometimes I remember to offer him one) and I find it relaxing, especially when I get to do it right.
When it’s right, it’s dark, it’s cool, I’m in tune with my own body as well as his, and my mind can empty and quiet. We’re both (I hope) soothed.
(When it isn’t right, I’m straining, distracted, trying to think my way into getting the right places and pressure, and I come out dissatisfied.)
Last night was a mix of both, because I couldn’t find the right flow for a while, until I got out of my own head and went into my body.
And when my mind was able to empty, I heard, “This. This is what you’re supposed to do. You’re supposed to be healing. And with your words.”
I don’t know if it’s my mind that added, “Why do you think I put you with guys who want to heal too?”
In the same vein as Ariana Grande’s Thank you, next, I learned something from everyone I’ve been with, whether that relationship was romantic, platonic, or work-related.
One guy had the dream of healing the world (Imma leave that there just like that, no comments.)
Jarrod’s Mind Evolve… it’s not just his company really, it stems from him… in his words it’s about finding your core in a world that pushes you to be otherwise… in my eyes he’s actively healing the space that we’re in, one person and one training session at a time.
And I… I want to be a force of good too.
It’s probably why I loved biology more than I loved any other academic subject. (Being specific here because folk dancing classes and choir made me smile too. chemistry and music lessons a far third.) Biology was/is a clear way to understanding something real and everyday and immediately/practically helpful.
It’s why I was drawn to reiki.
I might not have had the same intentions with tarot when I first began, but I believe now that it can be something guiding and healing. (even if, sometimes, it prods exactly where you don’t want it to hurt, to get your attention for the greater good.)
Heck, this blog is, in all it’s confusion, my space to guide myself out of my own quagmire.
Maybe it’s time to tune a little more outwards, and use my own experiences to… hm… like a massage, I’m using my own body to find the places where a little pressure can both ache and soothe.
I know not why I am in real estate still. Perhaps it’s to get me out of the rut I was in. Perhaps I needed something to take my mind off the sadness, and have some fun, live a few more experiences, and meet the people I needed to meet, learn a few more lessons. And to make the money I did to live. I have a sneaking suspicion I was meant to find Jarrod, through MJ and Ziggyfeet via Benson and PropNex. And now that I have… Perhaps I could still use my mind and my skills to make real estate a little more bite-sized for the masses.
huh.
bite-sized real estate. real estate cookies. (do not get hungry.) property snack. bitesizedrealestate.com is a terribly convoluted domain name. but it’s cute. cookie in the shape of a home with a bite taken out of it for a logo. decorated gingerbread cookie. (i don’t like gingerbread cookies. or maybe i haven’t had a good one.)
hey it’s rain and this is bite-sized real estate.
bite-sized-real-estate.com. read-able. hm. better than raininrealestate? or raintherealtor? I kinda dislike raintherealtor, even if it’s easy. raininrealestate gives me the image of a storm passing over homes. not a nice image.
bite sized real estate. no pressure. tiny.
thanks goddess. i know you’re in this somewhere. bet you’re smiling.
6 am.
fine lemme check if the domain is available.
…
well whaddaya know, bitesizedrealestate is open as a domain and a username.
dammit.
…
bloody hell i can even think of a sign-off in tiktok videos, with the itty bitty chipsmore chocolate chip cookie.
sigh.
i’ll need little round cookie stickers, so chipsmore doesn’t come at me.
or we can do a tie-up lol.
make my own self-drying clay cookie. cookie logo stamp. gifts with cookies decorated with homes.
sigh, 🙂
(i look up from the floor and at Jarrod’s table, and realise I’m staring right at a packet labelled “ondeh-ondeh cookies”… this is not a sign! XD )
6:11 am.
Am I not sleepy? There’s a whole day ahead of me, with work and friends and… family…
oh.
On being welcomed… on being enough…
My mom keeps making comments on my coming over here so much. That I’d bother people. That I shouldn’t.
And I can’t seem to get her to understand — it took some time for me to learn too — that I am actually welcome here.
That I’m asked to use things, to take up space, to be my own person. (to sit and use the massage chair instead of the living room floor, to sit at the dining table to eat and work, to sleep on half the bed.)
I might be sitting on the floor in Jarrod’s study but I’ve taken up the whole space, and turned on the air-con.
That if I tried to be small here, it’s weird.
And it’s so different to what I had at home, where — because I was a girl — I was to be hidden from view. Taught that shame was a major factor. To be prudent and proper and always above blame.
That unless I was non-existent, I was a bother, unless I was exceptionally helpful, so be prepared and always have extra just in case and never ask for help.
It was the message of “not good enough as you are, so be helpful”.
And it’s not so much my parents’ fault. They had it worse than I did, and they already thought they were going easy.
They had so little control and so much interference in their life that they don’t know any other way.
And I had to fight for the space I do have at home. I had to question, I had to be stubborn, I had to be angry and seethe and be silent and stoning. Some of the space that I have now came from negative circumstances that forced all our hands.
And coming here…
It’s a completely different world.
I am given space. I am wanted. I am missed. I’m celebrated, I’m encouraged, I’m listened to. I’m given the nudge to break out of my shell.
It’s so different that when I was given the option to choose whether I was–
6:45 am and Jarrod came looking for me. Back to bed I go.
🙂
Friday, 14 February 2025, 9:38 pm, Starbucks, T2, Changi Airport.
It’s Valentine’s Day, and we’re in the airport chasing down work, and spending the day together.
What was I saying? Oh.
When I was given the option to choose between heading back to my parents’ place, or staying over at his for another night, I ended up in tears — because I realised that my home meant fear and anxiety and overthinking.
I do have good days — not trying to say my life is that terrible. We do have chill days, but it’s usually when everyone’s just doing their own thing, or our attention is focused on the television screen.
Being at Jarrod’s… it’s active interaction… We do things together, consider each other, involve each other…
And while I was in bed, before I got up to start this post, I realised, “I am enough.”
That I didn’t have to do or be anything. I could just be myself, and I was accept–loved.
I mean, I snore, for crying out loud. Last night, I was so tired, I snored really loudly.
And Jarrod’s perfectly fine with that.
He did try waking me up (I have asked him to), but I was too dead to realise it.
‘Tis not a reaction I would ever have expected.
Whatever my life was like before, it’s been completely interrupted.
💖🌧️
Image of white pillows and soft sheets by StockSnap from Pixabay.
