oh yes!

Image from here.

So many things have happened since I last posted. I stopped thinking and started doing and although I haven't had decent sleep and my muscles are all aching and my neck hasn't stopped twitching from all the stress of deadlines ending side by side by side, tonight my idol writing teacher said I had talent and I feel like I could go all the way to the moon and back. This coming from the same professor who began calling me "You" because he couldn't remember me for nearly the entire semester and who inadvertently made me cry after he called my way of thinking pedestrian. I have been on the edge and I have questioned my self-worth but just having him call me by name and tell me that made all the pain and exhaustion just so worth it.

There are so many other things to be grateful for, and I will outline them once I have finished all of my requirements -- but I didn't want this moment to go undocumented. Thank you universe! And thank you kind Sir!

So for all the times you question if it is all worth it, let days like this remind you :)

Love

Image from here.

Valentine's Day was always a sour point with me, especially when I was in college and even when I was in law school; there is always this pressure that one feels whenever they are with their contemporaries (or is it just me?). When you are around people the same age as you, and who are in more or less the same circumstances, you are always made to wonder what is so wrong about you that you couldn't find someone to fall for you in that swooning, drooling way. You are made to see people in the throes of romance, holding hands in the halls, dressed up for special somewheres and you ask yourself what the hell is wrong with you. All my years in school have more or less gone that way, so much so that I have come to hate Valentine's Day and all the judgment (self-inflicted and otherwise) that came with it.

But I think so much of the (imagined) trauma comes from heightened expectations. Whether or not you are in a relationship, all of a sudden there is this urgent need to label and assess your romantic inclinations or your potential to be the recipient of such. (It amuses me that I now sound like a professor of sorts -- well, I have been analyzing my non-existent love life long enough to be an expert!) And when your current state falls short of romantic norms (and it will, because of said heightened expectations) you belittle the love that you do have in your life -- be it from family, friends, or (if you are so lucky) paramours.

I have learned that the best way to survive this holiday is to expect little, but to love more. Love yourself. Love your life. Love all the things that make you smile about your day. Love the friends you do have, love the time you have to yourself, love the space in your heart that's still open and hoping for romantic love.

This will be my last Valentine's day as a twenty-something, and I will be celebrating it alone as I always have. I am not (no longer) bitter about not having found love yet; and I have stopped blaming myself for all my perceived faults and shortcomings. For now, I am secure in the idea that I spend my days trying to be the kind of person that I want to become -- Hopeful. Always striving for the future -- for something better. Striving but at the same time grateful enough to celebrate what I do have now. I have family, who, though they show it in the strangest of ways, love me and care for my welfare. I have friends who celebrate who I am now, but who also believe in who I can become. I have myself, and (finally) the awareness that I have today to be alive and to make what I can of it. So while I dream of romantic love, I will not be bitter if it doesn't come. Every day, alone or with someone, is a gift.

Image from here.

 
P.S. 
Spent the earlier part of the day watching The English Patient for my Brit-Lit class (it was so good!), the middle part of the day reading and writing and letting people I love know that I love them, and then spending tonight with high school girlfriends for our annual Valentine's Day dinner (an event which we have been doing since we were 13 year old freshmen!) My life is full, and for that, I feel blessed. Hope you realize how full of love your life is too!

Encountering my 16 year-old self

Image from here.

1:16 AM

I spent the day doing much of nothing, all I achieved was attending class and taking a whole day to finish something that usually takes me about 2 hours to finish. And then I wasted the day refreshing Facebook and group-buying sites scouring for deals that will enable me to have a semblance of a life that I can (not really) afford.

I wanted to save some part of today, have it not be a waste. And so I decided I wanted to write something more fun – less of a task to check off my list (though I’ve been doing pretty okay in that aspect, save for the exercise and eating better). An ever present thought in my mind is that I am turning thirty in less than 2 months, and contrary to what I had imagined, I am not the success I thought I was going to be. But what am I, really?

I know there is a more comprehensive list of dreams that are lying around, but this is one that I take from when I was 16 years old. It was part of a scrapbook project for PROSEC (a personality development class) and when I had run out of album space to fill, I started writing on a sheet of paper all the unspoken dreams that I could fit into it.

Here they are:

·        I will be a consistent dean’s lister (must qualify: College, not law school)

·        I will graduate with latin honors

·        I will be able to buy myself a pager – not check, but I’ve been able to own so much more! Haha how very 90s of me to dream of a pager

·        I will learn how to drive –  I am an awesome driver!

·        I will impressively decorate my room – Needs work!

·        I will be the lead singer in a band – okay, this needs work. Maybe I can jam with a band?

·        I will find a good and God-fearing husband – hmm. A nice date to start, maybe?

·        I will be a good mother – again, let’s start with a date, any date! HELP.

·        I will be an obedient daughter – When does being obedient end?

·        I will bring my parents to wherever they want to go – okay, so not check. But there’s still time!

·        I will work for a well-known communications company – I did, until I realized how much I hated advertising

·        I will progress fast – hmm.

·        I will send and pay for my brother’s schooling – didn’t think I’d be broke till now

·        I will take up law in the college best for me – check? But I really wanted to go to the other school initially + I failed the bar

·        I will be a leader in YFC - check

·        I will get myself a blowdryer – never got one BUT bought myself an Instyler AND my parents gave me one for Christmas (pero mehn ang babaw nito haha)

·        I will get a CD player – check! Haha how funny I was at 16

·        I will team lead in a camp – never did.

·        I will star in a play – never did.

·        I will play piano – there are days when I feel like I still could.

There you go. An insight into a dream and the reality that came with it. I know there’s really no time limit. For my thirtieth birthday, I would just like to begin and approach it with an aura of gratefulness for everything that I’ve dreamed and made happened, and even those that didn’t.

Chance meetings

Image from here.

Where do your mundane activities lead you? The other day, I was doing homework and then I suddenly found myself caught up in one of those whirlwinds that leave you shaken for days, even weeks (I hope not) after.

What began as research for class turned into one of those three-hour conversations that you keep in the pockets of your mind - an unwitting bench mark for more meaningful conversations in the future. The conversation itself felt a bit like literature (carefully crafted questions, beautifully written responses, glimpses of brilliance in little turns of phrases). And it began so innocently - a thing that I needed to check off my to-do list. It was Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail who so aptly put it: "The odd thing about this form of communication is that you're more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings." And so it has, for me at least. In the three hours that we spoke, I've said more to that stranger than I have to those I call my friends. It was both strange and fascinating, a bit like walking on a ledge, edging closer and closer to see how far you can go without actually falling. It felt a bit like putting myself out there, like taking a chance, like all those other cliches that people use to say falling in love without actually having to say it. It felt like dangling my legs by the edge, wondering how it felt to jump into something so foreign, so unknown. I jumped.

It ended as abruptly as it began.  At the end of the third hour, I realized how strange we actually were to each other. It had taken him that long to tell me that he was getting married. Soon. After that, we exchanged nothing more but polite pleasantries. I said goodbye before I could do more things I would regret. But when I remember things he said, I don't, really. It's only when I hear his words in my head that I feel haunted.  Haunted by the idea that I could meet someone like that, so late, too late. Haunted by the idea that he might be the only one like that. Haunted by the idea that while I will keep those three hours worth of words for a long time (maybe forever), I know that he has already forgotten me. How could he not?

My head is still above the water though, I'll live.

Swept by the tides

Image from here.

Can't believe it's been two months since I last wrote here. I do literally feel as though I've been swept by the tides - into a strange and unexpected version of my life. October and November have gone by in a blur, and I am the first to be surprised at how quickly time passes now that I am starting to live my life again.

For the most part, not a lot has changed. I am still the same person that I was when I last wrote here. The change, if I can call it that, has been an inward one. Stories are always better when they are character-driven rather than plot-driven, as one of my teachers often say (more on that later). The change has to come from within. And so it has, in my case. I have just given myself the permission to do things again: to see people again, to have fun again, to be out under the sun again, to believe that I can begin again.

In the months after I've failed the bar, it has been a struggle (it still is) to function as myself. But what can one do except to continue? If you do not die from your failure (as I had hoped I would), what else is there to do except to live on?

So true

Image from here.

Saw this and laughed out loud. The accompanying article was a pretty interesting read too. In our quest to do everything, we end up doing nothing, or invalidating what we have done because it falls short of our own unrealistic expectations. Do read the article! It certainly made me think about the way I view my life and what I've done with it so far.

Learnings

Some things you just can't learn from books. Image from here.

The past week was so interesting to me, mostly because it was an exercise in deviation. From routine, that is. For the past few months, I have really been struggling to put myself on a schedule, to achieve certain checklists every day, in the hopes of being more productive and feeling more fulfilled with how I spent my time. What was strange to me was that even when I did manage to accomplish many of the things on my list (work, research, private writing etc.), I didn't really feel more fulfilled or motivated afterwards. I wonder if it was because of the quality of goals that I accomplished, or because of the direction that I was heading towards. Last week was an interesting experiment in that I threw out my to-do lists and decided to do things on the fly. It was one of the most fulfilling weeks I've had this year (or maybe in the last 2-3 years).