Mindful Journal

Sunny knows the feeling of depression. It is when you can feel frozen under the most comfortable summer sunshine; it is when your eyes see nothing in the most beautiful wonderland; it is when all the wonderful things in your life loose meaning to you. Every moment of living can become pure torture, and most of the time, our suffering come from the uncontrollable outside world. There are two questions sunny has asked herself many times, “why do I have to suffer when I am not doing something wrong?” “Why do I have to bear more pains inside than outside?”

When Sunny started journaling, diary became her best friend, a friend she can always trust, talk with and share. She wrote down her pain and joy; she wrote down her struggles and discoveries. Now, after several years, she wants to share some of her writings with people who may share similar experiences, who long for the joy and peace in this real life. Sunny will appreciate all the people who read her writing and sincerely wish that they are happy, safe and healthy. If by reading the stories from sunny, people, if just one, can start his/her journey to a more happy life, sunny will be very happy about it.

Comments and suggestions are appreciated. Please respect the copyright of these stories.

Golden moment

作者: sunny 11 年，3 月 ago

It is a winter Sunday afternoon. I have three hours for myself during my son’s music rehearsal. It is cold and heavy cloudy cover most of the sky. My heart longs for a warm place, maybe a corner with sunshine, or maybe a cup of hot tea. But where can I find it? I have no idea.

The Story of a Japanese-china Dish

作者: sunny in Journal 11 年，3 月 ago

My family used to have a beautiful china dish. Nobody ever told me it was a Japanese dish until one day I found the difference of words on the bottom. All dishes in my home had the word “China” except this one.

Little thing in memory

作者: sunny 11 年，3 月 ago

7:55am, the first bell rang; 8:00am, the second bell rang. Living next door to local element school, the school bell became the clock of my life. 7:55am, left home; 8:00am, reached the newspaper stand in front of my office building.

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