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The night of poetry and music was a tribute for la lune. The muse, however, was shy that night.

I am blessed beyond measure with the people I have in my life. The (secondhand) emotional turmoil of the past week made me appreciate how constant family is. How harmony at home is such a huge factor in my daily peace of mind. Conversely, a little domestic dissonance impacts me hugely even as I try to separate the personal from the grind at work.

I am also amazed with the quality of friends I have. Extended friendships are awesome. I feel wonderful to have been able to bring together people from different phases of my life, and who are just as comfortable with one another as they are with me. Time and space make no difference in the joy to be had when we get together every now and then.

Sometimes, though, a gust of cold wind hits you and you double over. Friends and family can't see the storm, and you only have yourself as you brave through the tempest, plodding on through. The brightest of days ends up being gloomiest after all. You just never know with other people sometimes. Or the moon. Or your mind–it's fickle. But then again, it's yours.

Like the mantra I have chosen for this year, I am reminded to be kind to myself first and foremost. I am reminded that I am my longest commitment. I could only ever bank on what I have promised myself that I would do or become, because people are fallible and no contract will ever be as binding as it purports to be. In the grander scheme of things, you can only do so much for people. And they can only do so much for you.

The moon was the reason we were there that night. It drizzled instead. The moon hid behind the clouds, barely casting its light. And so we left.