insight arising

by Toko-pa Turner There is a good kind of waiting which trusts the agents of fermentation. There is a waiting which knows that in pulling away one can more wholly return. There is the waiting which prepares oneself, which annoints and adorns and makes oneself plump with readiness for love’s return. There is a good kind of waiting which doesn’t put oneself on hold but rather adds layers to the grandness of one’s being worthy. This sweet waiting for one’s fruits to ripen doesn’t stumble over itself to be the first to give but waits for the giving to issue at its own graceful pace.  

I have lived with my parents for nine months now. While I didn't know what to expect from the experience, I never thought the wild card would be my dad. My quiet, reserved, calm, and harmless dad. Since the beginning of my journey home to the belly of the beast , I have been struggling quite a bit with him. These frustrations have been surprising and confusing and incredibly unfamiliar given the minimal conflict we've had over the years. Unexpectedly, I've gotten so upset by him...  He spits in the sink without washing the things away.  He's become radically conservative in the past few years.  He's stubborn as heck and will only do things his way.   He's a product of cultural patriarchy and refuses to do anything outside his gender role. He's emotionally unavailable and has dismissed my sadness.  He can be cold, distant, and inconsiderate.   I've been triggered countless times by him. I've snapped. I've been repeatedly impatient with him. I'

When COVID-19 hit in March 2019, my weekly basketball league and pick-up nights halted immediately. I was bummeddddddddd. Running felt insufficient so I somehow found my way back to a jump rope. When I started skipping rope for the first time since grade school, I realized, this shit is not as easy as it used to be! So as a good ESFJ, I dove into everything available to learn how to jump rope correctly - YouTube videos, Instagram jump rope stars, tutorials, and even virtual classes with premier coaches. Forget baking bread, doing puzzles, or knitting sweaters, my pandemic time has been all about this rope. I fell in love with it, the way I did basketball as a little kid. It's been SO MUCH fun. It's been hard and challenging. It's been a thing to master. Not to mention, it's been awesome for my mental health and heart wellness.  5 life lessons the rope has taught me:  I can still learn something new, regardless of age. I can put my mind to something, drill, practice, be

My favorite part about writing and sharing with the world is experiencing what arises with others in response. When I posted the original piece about the 35 things I'm learning to love about myself , a kind friend wrote me a sweet note encouraging me to memorialize my light (in addition to the darker things I struggle with). He talked about how embracing our light can be the scariest thing to do. So, with a lot of gratitude, I decided to take up his loving challenge. Below you'll find my list of things I already love about who I am. I recommend you to try out this beautiful self-loving exercise. Comparatively, it was a lot more fun to write than the other one! Closing out Leo season with a full heart.  I adore my heart. She is tender. She is forgiving. She is vast. I live heart led and I’m so proud I choose to live this way. I am a natural athlete.  I’ve got a solid drive to the basket, a mean spiral to the football, and can send a softball flying into the field. Along these li

Another anniversary in life I never imagined celebrating - two years of healing with my dear dear therapist, C.  Two years ago, at the beginning of my separation, I approached finding C like I did with most other decisions in my life. With a lot of intention, rigor, and a mental excel sheet. I had adamant ideas for what I was looking for, especially because I developed such respect and appreciation for our couples therapist who we had just sadly separated from. My new therapist needed to be a self-identifying she, she needed to be a woman of color, and she needed to be a fucking badass. I scoured Psychology Today and Therapist of Color Bay Area Directory , read their bios with my mafia boss eyes, made a list of 15+ people, and ended up emailing about 10 of them. Over the course of three weeks, I had about 7 phone calls to check for chemistry.  By the end of my rigorous process, something quiet called me to toss out my mental excel sheet, along with my old patterned way of making decisi

This art piece reflects my effort to cultivate deeper self love and tenderness <3   For my 35th birthday today, I am reflecting on things I've held shame, guilt,  embarrassment  or simple shyness and discomfort around. Some of them are imperfections, either past or present, that I am learning to love, accept, and adore about who I am - from the daily mundane to the deeply personal. Each one of these things is its own journey and I proudly celebrate them on the day of my rising into the 36th year of living on Mother Earth. I fully acknowledge I am a tender work-in-progress for this lifetime and beyond. Thank you as always for witnessing and celebrating with me.  I can be incredibly stubborn.  When things don't follow through according to plan, I can get irritated or anxiously controlling.  I really love to eat... and can throw down food. I was a chubby kid once so I can get embarrassed by this. Somehow I always get food stains on my clothes. But the imperfection is how neurot