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Boris Cho Nov 11
Nearly five years ago, I made the difficult choice to leave a toxic and abusive marriage, a decision that came after realizing, through therapy, that the relationship had never truly served me. For years, I had cared for someone unable to care for themselves, losing parts of myself in the process. This choice took its toll; mentally, physically, and financially; but it was necessary.

I remember telling myself, “I don’t want to be here in five years, stuck in misery and pain.” Now, as those five years draw to a close, I stand as proof of my promise to prioritize happiness; not just for my sake, but for my daughter, who means more to me than life itself. Despite enduring the trials of losing an eye, battling shingles, and surviving two brain aneurysms, I have emerged stronger, healthier, and more grounded than ever before. My resilience is rooted in a deep determination for growth, and in the boundless strength my daughter gives me. She is my constant source of inspiration, my reminder of life’s quiet wonders. Even though she is with me 60% of the time, her presence fills my world completely, showing me; through her compassion, empathy, and curiosity; how to embrace the beauty in every moment we share.

There was a time when she was taken from me while I worked relentlessly to create a stable life for her. I sacrificed time and sleep, fought through my darkest hours, all with one aim: to build a future in which she could thrive. Each sacrifice, each sleepless night, was worth it to hold her close once again.

From the day she was born, I vowed to give her my best, to live up to my full potential as both her father and her friend. And I continue to fulfill that vow every day, cherishing every moment we spend together, knowing that our time is the most valuable thing I have. I take pride in watching her grow into a wonderfully creative soul, a lover of animals, nature, and crafting. She brings so much light into my life, and it’s because of who she is that this journey as a single parent has felt lighter. She has made it easier; not through words, but through the way she simply exists, with a joyful spirit and quiet wisdom that has guided me as much as I have guided her.

There’s an unspoken beauty in how we parent each other, even in moments when we’re not aware of it. She has taught me patience, resilience, and the importance of seeing the world with wonder. Together, we have made homes in new places, and each time, she has helped turn those spaces into sanctuaries, filled with love, laughter, and creativity. No matter where life takes us, I know that home will always be where we are together.

Being a single father has been the greatest gift of my life. It hasn’t been easy, but it has been worth every challenge. Together, we’ve weathered the storms of separation and divorce, always finding our way back to each other, stronger. As I continue to watch her grow, I find myself in awe of the person she’s becoming. And I will be here, by her side, in every step of her journey, just as she has unknowingly been there for me on mine.



Five years ago, I chose the way,
To leave the dark and find the day.
Through struggles deep and through strain,
I found my strength, and peace from pain.

In those many years, nothing felt quite right,
And so I left behind the sleepless nights.
Through deep darkness and trials long,
I found my strength, where I belong.

Her laughter lifts, her spirit shows,
In every moment, love still grows.
Her eyes reflect the world so true,
In her, I see all that we do.

We craft, we build, and shape our days,
In nature’s hands, where beauty stays.
She teaches me, though unaware,
In every smile, in every care.

Together, bound by love so tight,
We’ve turned our challenges to light.
In her, I find my greatest part;
My daughter, friend, my guiding heart.

— Sincerely, Boris
Boris Cho Nov 11
Once, there was a man who felt lost in the midst of his life’s responsibilities and uncertainties. He had spent years chasing success, relationships, and fleeting moments of happiness, but something was always missing. Deep down, he longed for answers, for a way to navigate life with more clarity and peace. At the center of his world was his 9-year-old daughter, a bright and curious soul who brought light to his life. She was his greatest joy and his greatest motivation to find answers; to become a man who could guide her through the challenges that lay ahead.

He began his search by turning inward, realizing that he had never truly been present in his own life. He had always been running toward the next goal or worrying about the past. It was mindfulness that first opened his eyes; he learned to sit quietly and observe his thoughts, letting them pass without judgment. By practicing awareness, he began to truly see the world around him, moment by moment, for the first time. He felt the ground beneath his feet and heard the sound of his breath, and with each passing day, his mind became less scattered, more centered.

It was through mindfulness that he truly learned to savour his time with his daughter. Whether it was sharing stories before bed or listening to her laughter as she played, he practiced being there, fully engaged, letting the weight of the world fade into the background.

As his awareness grew, he started to grasp the idea of impermanence. Everything in life, he saw, was constantly changing. His emotions, his relationships, his experiences, his daughter; all of them came and went like passing cars on a busy highway. Where once he felt frustrated by loss and change, he now began to accept them as natural. This realization allowed him to let go of his attachments to things, people, and outcomes. He no longer needed everything to go his way in order to feel at peace.

He came to understand and realize that his daughter would not stay young forever; her childhood was passing by, moment by moment. Instead of fearing this truth, he embraced it, knowing that every phase of her life was precious. He wanted to show her that change was not something to be feared, but to be accepted with grace, a natural part of growing up. It was through this acceptance that he began to let go of his need to control, finding peace in the flow of life.

This led him to the concept of non-attachment. He understood now that much of his suffering came from holding onto things that were never meant to last. By loosening his grip, he felt a new sense of freedom. He could still love, still care deeply, but without the need to control or possess. In releasing his attachments, he found that he suffered less, and joy could flow more freely into his life.

Learning the lesson of non-attachment, he understood that his role as her father was to guide his daughter, not to cling to her. One day she would grow, spread her wings, and explore the world on her own. Rather than holding on tightly, he wanted to love her fully while giving her the space to become whoever she was meant to be. This shift brought him peace, knowing that love didn’t mean possession; it meant support and freedom.

Along the way, he discovered the power of compassion. He realized that he had been harsh with himself for years, setting impossible standards and punishing himself when he fell short. But as he was kinder toward himself, he found it easier to extend kindness to others. The more compassionate he became, the more connected he felt to the world around him, especially with his daughter. He began to see the pain in others’ lives, recognizing that everyone was struggling in their own way, and his heart opened. Compassion became a guiding principle in how he parented. When his daughter struggled or made mistakes, he responded with kindness and understanding, knowing that these were part of her growth.

But the most profound shift came when he began to question the very nature of the self. He had spent his life building an identity; his career, his achievements, the image he projected to the world. Yet through his journey, he realized that this self he had constructed was fluid, ever-changing. His ego was not a fixed thing, but rather a collection of thoughts, experiences, and beliefs that shifted over time. By letting go of the rigid idea of who he thought he was, he opened himself to growth and transformation. Through this transformation, he wanted to teach his daughter that she wasn’t confined to the labels society might place on her. Like him, she is also fluid, always growing and changing. By understanding this, his daughter could remain open to new possibilities and not be burdened by the expectations of others.

The man also realized that suffering was an inevitable part of life, for both him and his daughter. It was not something to be avoided or denied but rather something to be understood. Suffering was a part of the human experience, but by confronting its causes; desire, attachment, and ignorance; he could learn to live with greater peace. This understanding didn’t mean his life would be without pain, but it gave him tools to face suffering with grace and resilience. He hoped to show his daughter that suffering was not something to avoid, but something to confront with courage, knowing that it, too, could lead to growth.

Through meditation, the man found a daily practice that grounded him. His daily practice of meditation became a cornerstone of his journey. Each morning, before his daughter woke up, he would sit in stillness, finding peace in the quiet moments before the day began. In the stillness, he learned to quiet the noise of the world and listen to the deeper truths within himself. Meditation became his refuge, a place where he could reconnect with his breath, his mind, and his heart. It was here, in this quiet practice, that the answers he sought began to emerge; not from outside of him, but from within, and it was a gift he hoped to pass down to his daughter one day. He imagined sitting beside her as she learned to steady her mind and connect with her inner self, teaching her how to find calm in the midst of life’s uncertainties.

His journey was not about reaching some distant enlightenment, but rather learning to walk through life with more clarity, compassion, and presence. His journey was also about becoming a better father. He didn’t seek enlightenment for himself alone; he wanted to live in a way that would inspire his daughter. He learned that the answers he found were not just for him, but for her as well, so that one day she, too, could walk a path of mindfulness, compassion, and inner peace. His greatest hope was that, when the time came, he could pass down the wisdom he had gained, showing her that the key to happiness was not in the things they accumulated, but in how they learned to live, love, and let go.

The man’s path through Buddhism showed him that the answers he sought were not in achieving or accumulating, but in letting go, in being present, and in cultivating peace within himself. And so, with each day, he continued on this path; not toward a destination, but into a deeper understanding of life as it unfolded around him and his daughter. He had found his answers, not in what he gained, but in how he continues to learn to be.

Amituofo.



Today, I release what no longer holds me;
I release those who have drifted away,
and those who stir doubts in my heart.

Today, I choose happiness. I step away from the shadows of toxicity, freeing myself from the burdens I’ve carried far too long. I offer myself the love I so easily give to others, and in that love, I stop the quiet hurt within.

I follow the path of positivity, no longer sinking in the well of my own sorrow. I open my heart wide, letting down the walls I’ve built to protect what’s inside. I accept my flaws and let them shape my growth.

Today, I chose healing. I forgive myself for the times I stumbled.
Today, I step forward with courage.
Today, I walked away from places I have outgrown.
Today, I cherish the gift of my own time.
Today, I chose love for myself.

—Sincerely, Boris
Boris Cho Nov 11
The experience of growing up always in the grip of fleeting desires has shaped how I approach relationships, even now as a single father in my forties. I’ve often found myself captivated by the allure of infatuation, swept away by the idealized image of another person. This pattern, though intoxicating, has taught me much about the nature of desire and the way it distorts reality.

I’ve come to see that these intense feelings; what I once thought was love; are often projections of my own unmet needs or desires onto another person. These crushes, which often felt overwhelming, were more about the fantasy I created than the reality of the person in front of me. I’ve learned that this yearning is less about genuine connection and more about the emotional highs I sought to escape from my own inner discomforts or unfulfilled longings.

With time, I’ve begun to understand the importance of self-awareness in these moments. What feels like love can sometimes be a fixation on an idealized version of someone, built from the fragments of my own hopes and unresolved emotions. True connection, I’ve realized, must be grounded in seeing the other person as they are, not as a reflection of what I want them to be.

In this journey, I’ve learned to let go of the compulsive need to chase after those fleeting feelings and instead nurture a deeper, more balanced emotional availability. It is about cultivating a sense of wholeness within myself, so that I no longer need another person to fill a void or complete me. This shift has been liberating, though it requires constant reflection and conscious effort. The path forward is not about denying desire but understanding its true source and embracing relationships that allow for growth, mutual respect, and authenticity.


Your name constant, lingering in my mind;
All the thoughts of you, I cannot escape;
They echo through time,
where a lonely silence once found its place.

In your eyes, I can I see beyond the universe;
its vastness reflected in their cosmic depths,
where time slows down, remains suspended,
revealing truths I hadn’t thought to seek.

And in your touch, oh, how it lingers;
a quiet fire that burns without need for flame.
It consumes all of me, drawing me closer to you,
where distance stretches, one galaxy to another;
Until I am lost in the warmth of your being.

You are the axis on which my thoughts turn,
the light that bends the edges of my soul.
Yet I know this;
to love you is not to possess,
but to admire the art in simply knowing
you exist, a masterpiece worth holding onto.

You are the one question I cannot answer,
a riddle unraveling in my mind, everyday.

— Sincerely, Boris
showyoulove Nov 11
God said do not babble when you go to pray
Filling space and time with little things to say
So, I give you a guide that you can follow along
There, come to the place where all can belong
Now, we need not pray it word for word.
We can do differently, and we will still be heard.
But think about the words you say
And think about how much they weigh.
Are we just going through the motions
While, what we mean, we have no notion?
The "Our Father" we've said so many, many times
But have we ever stopped to look between the lines?

It was brought to my attention by a friend
Who said something to this end:
The "Our Father" calls us to focus outward.
"Give us this day our Daily Bread" which is basic and turned to self (it's very small)

"And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us"
Our attention is focused not on ourselves, but towards others

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil

For thine is the kingdom and the power and glory
Now and forever AMEN"
We have now turned our focus to the universe, to Heaven and to God!

So often in the world today we are focused inside ourselves, it's all about "I" or "Me", what can I get, what's in it for me? It's small and lonely although we'd like to deny it and, sometimes, we lash out because of it. God calls us to be so much more, to be so much bigger. This world is temporary and fading and in the vast expanse of the universe there would not God in his goodness have created other life, other planets, solar systems. God is infinite, his love is infinite so why would or should his ultimate plan for us be this earth alone? Something so small and nothing more?

Lord, help us open ourselves up to your love, word and truth. Help us to open our hearts to all of our brothers and sisters and neighbors around the world and be open to you. Open our eyes and challenge us to expand and grow beyond ourselves. Elevate our thinking to you, help us be mindful of what we say when we pray and help us to pray from our heart and soul rather than our head. As we expand outward Lord, please draw us into yourself. On the cross, you spread your arms wide to take in all people and there is always room in your heart and your home for another. In your goodness, grant we pray, Oh Lord the courage and strength to do likewise. Amen.
Boris Cho Nov 10
As I guide my daughter through the complexities of the world, I recognize that the pressures of modern culture seek to mold her in ways that may distort her sense of self. In this process, my role becomes one of fierce protection, gentle guidance, and deep listening.

I must first instill in her an unshakable belief in her intrinsic worth. Society will try to measure her by external standards; appearance, achievements, social validation; but I teach her that her value is inherent, stemming from her character, kindness, and the unique power she brings into the world. I show her that true confidence is cultivated from within, rooted in understanding who she is, rather than how others see her.

Part of this journey as a father is ensuring she understands the importance of setting boundaries. I teach her to listen to her intuition and to assert herself, knowing that saying “no” is not a sign of weakness but of strength. In a culture that often exploits vulnerability, I help her discern trustworthiness in others and remind her that her body, her mind, and her heart are hers to protect (with a little help from her father).

It is essential that she finds a balance between independence and connection. I encourage her to pursue her passions with relentless curiosity while also fostering deep, meaningful relationships with those around her. The strength I want her to embody is not only about resilience in the face of challenges, but also about cultivating compassion; for herself and others.

I embrace my role as a father in the fullness of my imperfections, showing her that strength is not about being infallible but about owning mistakes and learning from them. Through my actions, I seek to model what it means to be emotionally available, self aware, to listen before responding, and to act with integrity.

As a divorced father, I have an added responsibility to provide her with stability, even when life feels fractured. I must be the steady presence in her life, offering her a safe haven where she can explore the world without fear of judgment. I make it clear to her that her family structure does not define her; she is not diminished by it but can find strength in her ability to navigate its complexities with grace, as I have.

My love for her is an anchor, one that will carry her through the challenges of adolescence and beyond. My hope is that, through this unconditional love, she will grow into a woman who is not only strong but wise, empathetic, and unapologetically herself.



I promise, daughter, to be your guide,
To walk beside you, to never hide.
I’ll show you strength and how to stand,
With courage held in your own hand

I promise to let you grow and be,
To find your path and set you free.
In every step, through joy and strife,
I’ll honor the woman you shape in life.

I promise to protect your heart,
To guard your spirit from the start.
No matter where I am or roam,
I’ll always find my way back home.

— Sincerely, Boris
Boris Cho Nov 10
There are parts within me that have been shaped by early pain and fear; a life spent on guard, vigilant against the consequences of any misstep. I learned to divide myself, to hide certain parts, for safety’s sake; leaving fragments of myself that grew accustomed to survival, even as it yearned for connection. But in time, I have come to understand that this fractured past within me holds potential for healing, for growth, and, perhaps most importantly, for a new way of being.

These inner divisions; the parts of myself that I once rejected, feared, or simply didn’t understand; are not obstacles to overcome but parts of me that require compassion and understanding. They formed in a space of need, a response to an environment that offered little safety. Each part, the cautious one, the silent one, the fierce protector; emerged in response to that fearful environment. Rather than erasing them, I now see the importance of recognizing and holding space for these parts, welcoming them as survivors who kept me whole when wholeness felt impossible. Recognizing them as such has shifted my inner perspective; I now see them not as burdens but as bearers of survival, protectors who were once essential and who still seek my recognition and care.

In parenting my daughter, I see these fragmented parts come to life in unexpected ways. The father I have become is one forged in the fires of my own longing to be held, understood, and valued. Every hug, every kind word, every act of support I offer her is an affirmation of the love I once sought. In her presence, I am able to rewrite the script of my own life, to give what was missing and, in doing so, heal some of the wounds that linger within. Through her, I am learning that these parts of myself do not need to be banished; they need to be invited in, to be heard, and to be allowed to rest.

There is a quiet transformation that happens when I approach these parts of myself not with disdain or shame, but with gentle curiosity. I am learning to sit with the parts of me that flinch or recoil, to hear their voices without judgment. In doing so, I become whole, not by silencing these voices but by honoring their role in my journey. This process; an intimate and, at times, unsettling path; reveals that healing is less about “fixing” oneself than it is about integration, about making room for all that I am, even the painful pieces that I once tried so hard to forget.

In becoming a father who breaks the cycles of silence and abandonment, I find myself embracing a deeper, more profound truth: that each of these parts has a place, and each is worthy of love. I am piecing myself together in a way I wish had been modeled for me as a child, building within me the compassion I once desperately needed and am now able to extend outward. My daughter, in her innocence and wisdom, is both my greatest joy and my mirror; she shows me the parts of myself that still need my love. And in loving her, I am, at last, learning to love all of me.



Born into darkness,
I learned to be small,
to tiptoe through childhood,
make myself quiet, unseen.

Now I carry the scars,
not as burden but as strength,
fuel for a steady, unbreaking love,
a light my daughter will never fear.

I break the silence through resilience,
rewrite the script with gentle hands.
What I was denied,
she will know as her birthright.

For her, I am whole,
and in her, I am healed.

— Sincerely, Boris
On the day of all souls in the fall
as leaves lose luster to winter’s bane
my father’s shade returns to call
while I walk along a splintered lane:

His memory murmurs in a darkened nook
of years of yearning and wasted days,
as the distance that filled up the book
of our lives still grows as I turn to grey.

The care he’d showed I did not feel
as the pillars of our bridge began to crack.
Too late, I turned back to heal
the fallen span that we now lacked.

By then his old mind’s lantern had failed;
the new light I’d shone back went unseen
and broken arches into a chasm trailed
where once a golden bridge had briefly been.

Across the valley, dark, deep, and wide,
a spectral stretch of stones appears
to shine as a silvery coach now rides
across, to bring two sundered shadows near.

Now on this day of all souls missed
by those who find themselves left behind,
one faithful departed returns to kiss
the forehead of a son’s reopened mind.
A very personal meditation on this day, All Souls’ Day.
I dislike my father
I say this after careful reflection and study of him throughout the years
interactions that are vapid and entirely forced that when he asks, “how are you doing?” feels more like an insult rather than a greeting because it’s me that always does the calling and it’s always been that way, getting short changed because the guy just doesn’t know how to reach out unless he wants something and till this day he still half assess it, so I don’t call or bother any more
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