Things

Packing-up is probably one of the tasks I find particularly daunting. This is probably why I am not above sidestepping thoughts of moving out from a place even with the enticing promise of better accommodations. Staying put is often a better choice for me than going through the entire packing/unpacking experience.

The last time I packed-up all my stuff was a full year after a best friend, who I was sharing an apartment with for years, left because she was going to have a baby. When my friend moved out, it was only practical that I should consider doing so as well since staying meant being saddled with rent and utility payments that would definitely cost twice than I used to pay. But I somehow managed to drag my feet in doing what was prudent because I was not keen on packing and hauling my things to a new place. It was silly but I am kind of wired that way.

When I finally made my big move more than two years ago, I told myself I would stick around at my current place for as long as it takes. Such was my resolve that I succeeded in overlooking several things and instances that I was not happy about in my new place, just so I did not have to move out again. It is always about the bottom line for me, i.e. bottom line: avoid the big P thing.

Today though, I am about to start doing what I have been consciously avoiding for some time now. I have two days to pack all my stuff. I bought balikbayan boxes already. I was pretty sure that I would be able to fit everything in them and in my suitcases and bags. I was confident I would finish everything within schedule. Unfortunately, I seemed to have seriously underestimated my capacity to accumulate things. As I started packing only one thought came to mind, and that was, "How the f*_@^# did I get to have all these things?".

It is a bit overwhelming to look at all my things. There is just no way I would keep all of these. And there lies another challenge, choosing things I would keep and which ones I need to let go.

Someday I see myself less intimidated by this task. For now though, I am considering this as another opportunity to elevate my packing skills.

• Location:room
• Mood: silly

(Photo from here.)

The Bus Stops Here

I smiled the first time I saw that The Bus Stops Here sign at one of the bus stops I pass everyday on my way to the office. I like the sense of finality those words offer and at the same time, that underlying hint of possibilities. I imagine myself getting off a bus in that exact spot.

Bus stops are fascinating. They're never dead-ends. When you get off on one, it's because you're meant to be somewhere else. Unless you intend to wait out the rest of your life in that bus stop, you wouldn't want to be there long enough to have roots growing out on you.

I remember this one trip I had before. I was traveling with my teammates and we were on our way to Macau for a competition. Like in our previous trip there, we took a flight to Hong Kong and from there would board a ferry to Macau. But unlike our previous trip, the airport was now farther from the city so we had to take the bus going to the ferry terminal.

I could still recall the excitement and how we pretty much enjoyed choosing a double-decker bus because it would be the first time for most of us to ride on one. Of course, almost all of us wanted to be on topside so we climbed up, suitcases and all, and made ourselves thoroughly comfortable throughout the long drive to the city. We became so comfortable that we realized we're nearing our destination barely a minute before the bus rolled to a stop.

Buses in Hong Kong, and in my experience, in most other highly developed countries follow a strict schedule. They don't wait around longer than what is scheduled and they won't certainly stop longer than necessary just so people can get on and off in their own good time. And so it was that despite our best efforts scrambling down, the door was already closing by the time we reached it. Suffice to say, we had to get off the next bus stop and walk a few blocks to where we will board the ferry.

I think that was one of the trips where I learned the value of traveling light. I believe it was after that trip that I began to form this habit of packing and traveling light. I do this especially if I'm anticipating a lot of bus rides thrown in. Although this mind-set don't work for some trips where there's just no workaround with the amount of stuff I need, I still try to stick to the basic idea of it, which is light as light it could get. Somehow, that bus trip taught me that it is much comfortable and interesting to travel with less.

I've seen a lot of different bus stops in my life. I've been to simple, and sometimes, dusty ones in beautiful quiet towns with a view of dirt roads stretching as far as the eyes can see, pink and blue painted ones in busy city streets and simple and efficient ones in quiet Japanese and European streets. I've met and converse people in those many bus stops. And regardless if I got off alone, with someone or with a group of people; I've never stayed far longer than necessary.

People get off buses to move on. This is why a bus stop is a beautiful thing. It's there waiting as some sort of transition point. It offers temporary shelter from heat and rain. I'd hate to travel on long stretches of roads without at least seeing one of those. Knowing that there's one somewhere gives that comforting feeling that when I do decide to get off, I'd have a place to pause and think before I move on.

(Photo found somewhere on the Internet.)

Foi

Fear, doubt and despair are probably the easiest emotions to access once major decisions are made. Since that moment I've made the decision to go, I sometimes couldn't help but think that what I've opted to do is beyond logic. Maybe this is why I choose to keep a lot of things to myself. I may be someone who thrives on communicating my thoughts and lives my life like an open book but most times, the things that matter most sit quietly in the many layers very few realize exist.

It's a difficult time filled with sad, bittersweet moments. Truth be told, I'm sad to go. I'm generally happy with what I do. I feel most alive with thoughts of possibilities, with that quiet conviction that there's so much more waiting to be explored. I'm happy to believe. But sadly, time has taken its toll.

The signs have been there early on but I refused to see them thinking I'm wrong. And that thought, being wrong, may have been the beginning of my steady descent to who I've become now. Perhaps it was easier to blame myself for everything. Not that anyone would believe that I do that. Appearances and perspectives are harsh. Sometimes I'm not sure if it's a gift or a curse to be strong.

There are moments that I think I'm defying reason and prudence for choosing this path. No one leaps empty-handed from a comfortable ship sailing steadily in the middle of the ocean. More importantly, no one jumps out especially when there's no island in sight. But that's exactly what I'm doing.

Today is like one of those many days since the decision was formed. I think what concerns me most is not my current lack of options but rather the wobbly state of my financial safety net. This leap is hurting me even now, too much.

As I take stock and reach deep within me, I'm surprised that despite the swirling grief, fear and uncertainty, my heart doesn't waver. Things are bad and they may even get worse but I'm certain that these too shall pass.

I thank God even for this difficult time. I think it's a blessing to get to draw some strength from within. It's nice to remember that I have that in me. This negates what I've come to believe in the past months. I'm now in this journey to rediscover that I have value, which I bring with me in every path I choose to take.

(Image from here.)

So This Is How It Ends

It's a mix of raw emotions. But relief is taking center stage. I've made several attempts before and I failed in following through by choice. There were always excuses. I've subjugated my soul in exchange for what? I don't know, really. I don't.

It's true what's been said about choosing your battles.I need to choose mine wisely.I'm a warrior by heart. I've proven that countless times.I think two years of this is enough. I can't change things, but I can change my circumstances.

For the first time in a very long time I can now say that I feel more like myself.

When Water Overflows

This idea has been going around for ages. It still proves to be true. Things that happen repeatedly eventually loses its impact. Let's use as an example a recurring disappointment or a wish that you keep hoping for. If the same things happen over and over and over again, they gradually begin not to matter.

It's really like filling a glass with water. Once the glass fills up, all the water you keep pouring in it gets wasted.

I now feel that it's futile to care for some things that shouldn't matter anymore. Let go. Let it slide.

I'm beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, there's a limit to that human capacity to care.

A Recollection on Prayer

My friend and dragon boat teammate Anna Liese invited me to a seminar on prayer held yesterday at Union Church of Manila (UCM). The event was organized by UCM and Open Hearts Open Minds.

When I accepted the invitation, I had no idea who the speaker would be or how it would be conducted. Somehow, knowing that it’s a seminar on prayer was enough for me. It was therefore a very nice surprise to discover that the speaker was Father Thomas H. Green, S.J. Father Green is a spiritual director and a prolific writer of books on prayer and spirituality.

The seminar (or recollection as Father Green calls it) was very timely especially after my family’s recent loss. On a more personal level, I wanted to process some specific events during our time in Cebu that shook my belief in the act of praying. Perhaps one of the most trying times for me during that period of mourning and handling all funeral arrangements for my Lolo was the experience with the second wife’s prayer group (my Lolo became a Catholic after he remarried).

My Lola was a Protestant so I have vivid memories of the family’s daily prayers at dawn in my grandparents’ home and Sunday services at the UCCP in Davao City. But despite being devoted to their faith, I felt the openness of it. I grew up very open to other faiths as well.

Religious preferences have never been an issue. I even have a Tito and Tita who chose to become Catholics and I don’t remember that creating any ripple at all in the family. I even went to a high school run by the Society of Jesus. My stint in that school instilled in me a great respect for the Jesuits.

I think it’s because of my upbringing and exposure to different faiths that I haven’t been one to encourage religious debates or to allow myself to see religious denominations as a barrier for treating others as fellow children of God. And I’ve been exposed to a lot of people to believe that there are many who share this belief. This is probably why I was unprepared to find myself around people who taught me that sometimes faith without discernment can breed certain prejudices.

To my utmost disappointment, the second wife’s friends and prayer group challenged my perception. Without going to the sad and painful details, there were several decisions made by the girl that were heavily influenced by the group. And all these decisions were made without regard or respect for us in the family who were grieving as well.Apart from the extremely inconsiderate behaviors I’ve observed, there was also that matter of money. At first I thought the traditional prayers done by rote were sincerely given for someone they’ve known and said to respect. But it seems that even prayers need to be paid.

The seminar helped me process the desolation that was gripping me. I guess at this point I need to teach myself to forgive for I’m still honestly filled with grief and anger over everything that’s happened. I need to understand and accept this because I’m done feeling all these negative emotions.

Father Green said that loving is not liking, that God asked us to love our neighbors. He said God didn't mention anything about liking everyone. Love is an act of will and like is about feeling. To love is to desire the good of others regardless of how we feel about them.

I think that loving is really the most difficult thing to do. But sometimes, to choose to love can be a form of penance or purification as we seek to step closer to that place and time where we hope to see God.

I wish I could choose to love and start by forgiving them:
-For insisting that we bury my Lolo there instead of bringing him home to Davao
-For leaving us alone to fend for ourselves in an unfamiliar place
-For finding out that the family would take care of all the arrangements and fees despite the fact that it was them who insisted that we bury him there
-For not even offering words of sympathy and for treating us like we’re not my Lolo’s family as well
-For always demanding as if we have an obligation to them especially in providing money for the prayers that their traditions require

It’s been a truly difficult time, and continues to be still. It’s hard not to react in anger from the continued demands. I hope things get better. As I write, things are already looking up. God’s purpose for all of these will unveil itself in due time.

(Image used was found on the Internet.)

No Other Way But Up

I've always believed what a friend told me when I was in college (although I can't quite recall now who said it but the idea stuck). It was about how we carry along when we fall so hard in the darkest, deepest pit we could possibly imagine. I've had my share of discussions along these lines. See, being young, uprooted from the quiet life of the province, and exploring the complexities of independence of college life somehow made me feel like I've been handed out a license to milk all the dramas of life for all its worth.

The friend said that if we really think about it, when we're down at the bottom of the pit we fell into there's really no other way but up. The idea was of course kind of cold if we hear it just when we've recently fallen. It seems cold, harsh even. But if we really look at the logic behind it, it kind of makes sense.

I remember thinking my friend was right. I thought then, if I somehow fell and found myself alive after the experience, no amount of pain or suffering can erase the fact that I survived the fall. I think the survival part is the crucial thing here. If I somehow managed to keep myself alive, breathing, and functioning regardless of the circumstances then perhaps God has a reason for me to have somehow survived the fall.

I've long embraced this belief and I'd say that it has proven to be an anchor in all those stormy days I've been. Perhaps one thing that I've learned to accept as well from previous experiences is that it's important to be fully present inside that pit. Sometimes, it's easy to pretend that I'm in a better place, that I'm nowhere near that dark, cold, and hopeless place. Most times, it's easy for the mind to be elsewhere. But I learned that it's much easier for me to recover when I allow myself to feel every pain. This is critical because it is always when I embrace the moment that I discover that it is not a place I would want to be in for the rest of my life. And I guess that's the time I begin to look up and find the strength to start the climb.

The beauty of falling is that when we hit bottom we couldn't be any lower. And once there, we'd begin to realize that indeed, there's no other way but up.

*(Image from the Internet)

it rained hard while i was watching the end

Three New Years After

I can't still decide what I really feel with that call that was not a goodbye but turned out to be one. It was a nice breeze that quietly closed a door but left several windows open. One thing I'm sure though, I could be anything but angry. Something that good is never that bad when the end comes. It just is.

Happy New Year World!

glitter-graphics.com

What can I say, all things great and all that sucked for 2008 - goodbye! In a nutshell, it was an awesome year. A good year to get stretched and bounced around like there's no limit. Infinity going both ways.

Here's me just about bouncing up and down in excitement, fear, anticipation, hope, and faith. It's gonna be another GREAT year! The universe has spoken! And I'd be stupid not to make these ears listen. :-)

Freefalling

There is only one way to deal with misery - end it with an extremely painful killer stroke and be done with it. Suffering can only last as long as the willingness to suffer. Hope can only endure as fleetingly as faint wisps of change that fade like illusions of desert oases.

Change cannot truly happen without the will to make it happen. The mind delays the inevitable by focusing on what would be lost. It evades the thought of losing too much, too soon. And while the spirit screams in silent agony, the façade continues to move like a machine that is falling apart.

It is that step off the ledge that liberates the soul from fear of the unknown. Freefalling is that fine line between death and rebirth. The easiest path to change is to let go of everything and embrace the feeling of falling. To resist the possibility of something good or bad to manifest is to waste the possibility of learning and growing.

Freefalling is deep faith. It is faith that whatever is lost can once again be found or replaced with something better. It is faith in landing somewhere. It is the conviction that to survive the fall means another opportunity to live and start anew.

Yes, too much will be lost, too much to dwell upon. Change is coming. It is the change that requires that one resolute jump from the ledge. Nietzsche provides courage with what he said best, “What does not kill you makes you stronger.”

A borrowed thought

I just couldn't resist borrowing this from here (thanks Dennis) :)

Stop Whining and (Shut the) Pack Up!

It's time to come off the water. I have given full measure. I am done.