acceptance

Hope. - Image from here.

found this on a friend's blog and just thought it incredibly beautiful. 

You Must Accept

You must accept that's who he really is.
You must accept you cannot be his
unless he is yours. No compromise.
He is a canvas on which paint never dries;
a clay that never sets, steel that bends 
in a breeze, a melody that when it ends
no one can whistle. He is not who
you thought. He's not. He is a shoe
that walks away. "I will not go where you
want to go." "Why, then, are you a shoe?"
"I'm not. I have the sole of a lover
but don't know what love is." "Discover
it, then." "Will I have to go where you go?"
"Sometimes." "Be patient with you?" "Yes." "Then, no."
You have to hear what he is telling you
and see what he is; how it is killing you.

                                                                   - Kate Light

I felt it for a love, for a dream, for a possibility. How apt. 

things I've loved lately

lovely. Image from here.

Days have been filled with busy work -- but at times, I found myself smiling, laughing out loud because of some random lovely moment which reminded me of how lucky I am to be where I am right now.

Like last week when I was able to escape for a bit to catch the tail end of Sir Butch's open lecture on Hagiography - I wasn't able to listen to the lecture in its entirety but I was just so happy that I had the opportunity to listen to him, that I had such brilliant writers like him to teach me.

Front and center at the Hagiography lecture. Yay!

I had a thought when I was listening to him though, that made me a bit sad -- listening to him reminded me of the version of my dad that I loved so much, back when I believed he was infallible. But I suppose that is the reality of being human -- that no one is entirely good or entirely bad, and so you have to pray that the people you deal with are more good I suppose.

This morning, I had to laugh out loud at a pleasantly strange classmate who sang every thing sir Jimmy said out loud, like it was the most normal thing in the world. And he wasn't sent out, and he wasn't scolded even -- you have to love cool professors and kooky classmates like that. Must remember to take a photograph with class next time.

somethings and nothings

What lovely words. Image from here.

So November has come and gone without me even writing a post, which is really just baaaadddd.

It has been a mix-up of good and bad things and mostly me trying to struggle with deadlines and me trying to sneak out to get to a lecture or to have time to see friends and attempt to have a life.

I have been busy yet there is this feeling that the busyness that has taken over is filled with such insignificant things.

It's not a bad place, where I am, but I am always questioning why I am unable to move past this -- to wow myself and the world in ways that I thought I would.

There is the feeling that I have been filling my days with "nothings" and this is why I haven't written -- but then again, I suppose things it is up to me to make "something" out of things. What makes a moment, a thing, a person special anyway?

When I began the idea for writing this, I was thinking of how I felt left behind by my peers -- My body has forced me to graduate through certain phases of my life, but I don't necessarily feel as though I've recovered.

There is that feeling of always just needing to catch up on life.

Now though, all thoughts turn to a dearest friend who has encountered a sad thing. Why do things happen the way they do anyway?

Butterfly visits

Hi Dada! Image from here.

I lost my grandfather when I was five. I was really young when he passed, but I remember really loving him, and really feeling loved by him as well. Though I was too young to feel pain after his passing, I still really miss him. I find myself thinking about him all the time, and feeling as though he is watching over me -- my own personal guardian angel. I suppose it is why whenever I find myself feeling worried or nervous about something, I find myself calling out to him and asking for intercession, or guidance, or a little bit of courage.

Today, I called out to him once more, as I was cramming for an exam that I had not studied enough for -- there just wasn't enough time after being sent out of the country for work and then coming home to a stack of deadlines both for my master's and my two jobs. As I ran my eyes over the text, in a mad dash to remember as much as I could, I called out to him. I asked him to help me remember everything I read, to calm my heart so I could concentrate more, and to just help me get through the day. I remembered too that it was his death anniversary. He passed away on October 5, 1987.

This morning, as I was on my way up to get dressed for the test, I saw a tiny brown butterfly hanging out on the staircase. It was not the showy kind, very much a plain-jane butterfly if there ever was one (and my lolo was not a showy person himself). I had to take a closer look, because I was still feeling dizzy from lack of sleep. It was there, just like it had been in many other points in my life, most often on the day of his death anniversary. It was telling me he had heard me, and that everything was going to be fine.

I got to school calmer, though still a bit worried that I did not know enough to pass the test. It got rescheduled to a week from today, giving me ample time to get everything done. I wanted to smile at heaven and wrap my arms around my lolo, to blow a kiss at my brown butterfly who had come down all the way from heaven to tell me that everything was going to work out. Thank you Dada for always looking out for me. I hope that in spite of my failings, that when you see me, I make you proud. I miss you all the time, but I find comfort in knowing that you are somewhere far better than here. Till we meet again!

Limbo

Image from here.

There is a churning feeling in the pit of my stomach, this in spite of the realization that I have spent a over 5 months living life as a grownup, what with the job and the not-too-shabby salary and the grad school units even.

I tend to flip-flop with the way I feel about my life now. At times, it feels pleasant (or is it dulled down?), and then I find myself subdued at the thought that I am finally growing comfortable with my life.

And then there are moments like these - when I am faced with all the things I am scared to do, like leaping really big. Like letting go of what little ties I have made in order to try for a bigger thing. Like taking a risk.

All of the pleasant feelings I have had about my life so far have felt like settling down all of a sudden. And not in a good way. They feel like giving up more than anything. On myself. On my dreams of finding a version of me that is better than this. I want to swim away, but I can't.

I want to absolutely love the life I am living. I want to not merely be able to tolerate it.

Rest

Rest by Pearce Highsmith (Image from here.)

I finally have gotten to the point where I realize how vital rest is. When I was much younger, weekends were very much restless days, spent arguing with myself (and my parents) because I wasn't making the most out of it. I felt then that weekends were best spent outside, doing things and meeting people and finding someone to fall in love with and things like that. Now, on the weekends, I am just incredibly happy when I get to rest -- and by rest I mean literally doing nothing, lying down, breathing in and out, having nothing on the agenda except to watch movies, read, eat and sleep.

I did just that this whole weekend. I was supposed to study for midterms, but after I found out that my midterm was pushed back, I settled into the weekend whole-heartedly. I lounged out on the lanai and sipped my coffee slowly, while I read cookbooks. I watched a lot of movies - classics and fluffy ones alike. A lot of movies. I watched two last Friday, four yesterday, and a sprinkling of tv shows in between that. It doesn't sound like much, but it was glorious.

This Sunday morning was spent eating a lazy breakfast with my brother, and then writing this entry while listening to the Garden State soundtrack, which is awesome. Can't believe I didn't discover it till this weekend.

There isn't much more to my weekend than that, but it was just what the kind of weekend that I've been praying for for a long time. Thank God!

What's your idea of a great weekend?

Bathers at Rest by Paul Cezanne (Image from here.)

friends

Image from here.

I often wonder if I am the most insecure person in the world.

I spent most of this weekend with friends. Last night, I had an impromptu dinner with my high school barkada.We met up for ramen and girltalk and then sometime after when we went to get drinks, I found myself settling into this funk, questioning what my place in the group was, why my friends found value in being friends with me, how it would have worked out if I weren't part of the group, things like that. It was unfunny because I have been asking myself these questions for over 15 years already, or since we first became friends when we were in high school. Then, I was the overeager girl who wanted so much to be liked by everyone, who walked on eggshells because I had a hard time finding a middle ground between perky and annoying. I still sometimes think I am that girl now. If I have some kind of label that tells other people that I am a sad person who must be kept at an arm's length.

does it matter if you know why?

Image from here.

This evening, my mom, dad, and I went to watch my brother's choir (the Ateneo College Glee Club) in concert. It was their return concert after touring Europe for over a month, mainly because they competed for the title in the European Grand Prix.

During the concert, one of the choir members shared his thoughts as they prepared to compete -- the feeling was familiar, he said, because he had competed for the title with the choir nearly 10 years ago. Both times, the grand prize title eluded them.

Upset, he shared how he had to ask himself why; why did they keep on losing? Why then, why now? And then, he said something which struck a chord in me. Does it really matter if you know why? 


In the end, he said, it mattered more how hard they had worked to compete for that title again. It mattered that they did it anyway, win or lose.

Those words, along with the great music of the choir, made me think of the "whys" in my life. Why I stuck to some things and quickly abandoned others. Why I felt the way I did about many things and many people. Why I was placed in the circumstances I was in now.

Personally, at this point in my life, I find that the whys aren't as important as what I am doing about them, and how I am addressing them given what I have at my disposal.

As though by magic, I found myself stumbling over this favorite quote of mine by Rainer Maria Rilke, taken from Letters to a Young Poet. This pretty much sums up how I feel about the questions now.

One of my favorite quotes EVER.  Photo from here.

May we all live our way into the answers!

Ingredients for a perfect day

Image from here.

These past few months have been incredibly busy for me, and I can't say that I don't feel blessed by them, because I do.  I've been meeting a lot more friends, having more interesting experiences too. I am working on my Master's Degree in Creative Writing, something I find myself very excited about, and I have writing jobs that allow me the freedom to work from home, and that provide for me in ways that I never thought possible  -- especially just a year after failing the bar.

The downside to these telecommuting jobs though is that I very rarely get to meet people. I tend to be cooped up in my room while I am writing and so apart from the occasional chat with friends online, I get so little interaction with the human world during the work week. I miss having real conversations.

The beauty of having a fluid working schedule such as mine is that I actually can do more with my time, if only I could let go of the little distractions. I don't  have to wait for the weekend to have a perfect day, because I have the beginnings of a great day already! I thought I would write down a couple of elements that make up a perfect day for me, in the hopes that I have more great days to remember -- life is short after all!

So here they are, in random order:

1. Good food

I love breakfast! Pancakes by me, creamy scrambled eggs + bacon + shake by my bro Kip

Okay, okay -- I know (especially now that I can't have this kind of breakfast every morning, but it just occurred to me that because I work at home, I actually have the luxury to cook whatever meal I want. I grew up not liking vegetables (still don't for the most part) but I've had salads that have blown my mind away. I've been raring for the opportunity to integrate more healthy dishes into my diet -- and so now I am hopeful that I can have more delicious and interesting salads and soups for dinner instead of the heavily-meat -based viands + blechy veggie dishes and rice that we often have. It will take some more effort and expense on my part, but I have to begin now!

Here are some of my meal pegs that I hope to work into a meal plan for the coming weeks:

Image from here.

I've been working on my own version of perfect oatmeal because I know that I can only have those kinds of breakfast on the weekend. For the most part, I think I can stick to this kind of breakfast for as long as I am able to keep my oatmeal interesting. 

I was lucky enough to find antioxidant booster dried fruit packs with blackberries, pomegranates and raisins from the Hi-Top near our office. 

In place of the nut medley, I crush oat and honey granola bars because nuts are super expensive here!

I add dark brown sugar and a pinch of salt for a more rounded flavor.

Image from The Recipe Girl

I think I can eat salad everyday if I can make them interesting like this. For the most part, I like fresh elements in them like fruits, and crunchy elements like nuts too.

I plan to make 1 new salad at least 2-3 times a week and eat it with some good soup too!







I think I went a bit overboard with my food excitement. This isn't actually a food post! (But will post my salad misadventures here too!)

But on to the other (non-food) ingredients for the perfect day!

2. Meaningful conversations

I love this photo! What a hoot! Image from here.

To be honest, if you gave me good food and added good conversation along with it, it would already be a pretty awesome day for me. I love being able to talk to people and to learn about what their lives are like. A lot of the time though, my shyness gets to me, and so when faced with a new person, I end up clamming up or over editing myself even before I utter a word -- but I hope to remedy this soon!

My friend Candice and I were talking about meeting at least one new person a week through various activities -- but I think, if I am able to have even a short but meaningful conversation with one of my good friends or even with family, or even with a stranger, it would make me very happy indeed!

Here's to conquering my terrible shyness and to letting new people in!

3. A sense of purpose and fulfillment in a job well done.

Oh to be this fulfilled! Image from here.

I have this bad habit of puttering. I putter around my tasks -- walking around my room in search of some distraction, or of surfing the web in the face of a waiting deadline. I hope to make the most out of my time by  focusing more on the tasks I have -- that way, I have more time to devote to my passion projects: to reading more literature, to writing more of it, and to fulfilling more dreams big or small.

4. Exercise and a sense that I am taking care of my body

Truth. Image from here.

Those who know me know that when it comes to exercise, I am the laziest person there is. I do regret how I have let my laziness get the better of me. All my health indiscretions have led me to this: to a state where I always ponder and worry about the state of my health. I read a saying about workouts that I agree with completely: I always regret when I don't, but I never regret when I do. To having the drive to do what needs to be done, finally. 

5. Adventure in the form of a new experience or learning discovery

Image from here.

New people, new experiences, new stories discovered -- anything that will remind me that there are so many things that I have yet to see! This thought reminds me of something an acquaintance of mine said before: At 30, and with the way people live their lives right now, this very well be my mid-life (crisis) optional. I don't want to blame myself at the end of it because I spent too much time being scared to do things (or of being judged because of doing things). 

I want to be brave enough to initiate conversations with strangers and to just do things without fear of being judged or of failing or looking stupid. Life's too short!

6. Gratitude as expressed through prayer and good deeds

What a lovely thought! Image from here.

Every year when November rolls around, I always find myself wishing that I lived in a country that celebrates Thanksgiving -- not just because turkey dinners look awesome (but don't they?), but because I think that gratefulness is so undervalued. More and more, I'm realizing that having a grateful heart and a grateful disposition makes going through every day so much more enriching and worthwhile. When you are grateful you are mindful of what is around you instead of what you don't have. You are reminded of how blessed you are.

It surprised me a bit that I put prayer in here, because honestly, it has been a long, long time since I've prayed. I keep confusing religion for spirituality, and at this point, I find that I am not ready to draw the boundary lines that religion (most religions) require me to do. But I just realized that being uncertain about some church dogmas should not stop me from being able to pray for guidance and to thank God for all the little things in my life, because there are so many. I think being able to pray and to put things in perspective is a good way to end and begin the day and to make room for another wonderful one.

Hopefully the increased awareness of how blessed I am will translate to a more sustainable way of being more positive and doing good deeds to help others.

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These are the major ones that I've thought of so far, and as I continue on with this year, I hope to keep you posted on my attempts to have as many perfect days as possible.

What about you? What are your ingredients to a perfect day? I'd love to hear from you! Do leave me a comment here! Hope you have more perfect days too. We all deserve it :)

what do you sacrifice for your dream?

Image from here.

I haven't written so much this summer, which is a bit ironic, because I thought I would be writing up a storm. Well, I am, but not the kind of writing that I thought I would be doing. I've been working. A lot. Just as summer began, I literally found myself swept up by a work opportunity, and so my days went there --- I was (still am) being paid to write. Nothing literary: releases, newsy types of articles, manifestos and the like. I don't like the writing part of it much, because it feels too technical and thankless at times. But it is for a cause I believe in, and it pays well (particularly when combined with another writing job that I have), and I suppose this is why I am sticking to it and have committed myself to it for the time being.

It is by no means easy, and there are times in my day when I have to ask myself why I am doing this. The answer is really quite quick to come: I am doing it for the money. It came as a surprise to me, especially after the decade that I had, how I could find myself earning as much money as this -- a lawyer's salary almost, even if I am not a lawyer. On the one hand, it feels good, knowing that I can provide for myself well enough by my writing skills alone. I know that I am committed to doing this (and to not writing literary stuff for the time being) because I want to save up enough to fund my dream of studying and living abroad.

This new mentality comes as a surprise to me because when I started working, there were so many things that I wasn't willing to put up with. But maybe that was because I found advertising to be so thankless. Or maybe, I really was just too idealistic going in. I'd like to think that I was able to draw the line somewhere, and move in a progressive way, learning from one job to the next, finding myself better and in a better place to work too somehow. Now, there are still parts of the job that I find difficult to deal with, but I find myself more pliable to the things that are thrown my way. I see myself being able to stick to it for longer, far longer than I ever have before.

So for now, I am sacrificing my time, doing the work because I know that it will help provide for the dream that I hope to achieve. It feels almost grown up, to be honest, to give up something of my self for a bigger goal. I haven't felt very grownup in a long time, but I do right now.

clean cuts

Image from here.

I'm beginning to think that clean cuts aren't at all possible.

I cried today. It was the first time I've let myself cry in a long, long time. It was during a conversation with a friend whom I had cut out of my life. She was just trying to be a good friend, thinking that I had already recovered from all the things that have haunted me in the past year. But I haven't. I think, with the passing of time, that I've gotten worse. At handling things. At hoping.

In the middle of her begging me to meet her, I just found myself blurting out every reason why I couldn't see her. Ever. And it made me cry. Because she was still so nice. Because I was reminded of why she is a much better person than I am.

Because she is an example of someone living out my life the way it is supposed to. Orderly, successful, driven. Instead I am here. Cutting off people left and right. And then sobbing right after that.

I suppose it was coming. You don't spend two weeks in isolation and then deal with your worst insecurities on a daily basis and not pay for it somehow. This is the true price that I am paying for my desire to handle this job I think. I wonder what it is about me that reeks the most of strange?

Open eyes, Open heart

A couple of months ago, I was offered a wonderful opportunity. If I accepted it, I would be paid to go around 5 cities in the Philippines to interview members of Amnesty International for an advocacy video that my friend was producing. The only problem was that I would have to miss nearly two weeks of school. I tossed and turned about it, feeling so conflicted about what my focus was. Was it school? Was it life? Was it necessarily one or the other?

In my journal, while trying to decide, I wrote:

"But isn't truly living and having outstanding memories a better pay-off than (just) being successful? Still at the forked road and I still cannot seem to decide. At some point in my life story, I know that I will have to choose: to jump off the bridge and see if I will fall or fly - maybe now is the time?"

I jumped. And I flew. And oh, the things I saw!

Taking in the sights (and bites!) of Cebu!!!

Clockwise: Me in front of the one of the Sto. Nino Church, a curious (and surprised!) couple at the park, setting up audio for the interviews, Deng running in front of the Fort San Pedro, Zubuchon!, and Deng's "pig" face

Lovely Dumaguete

Clockwise: One of our delicious seafood dishes in Lab-as, us walking around the Silliman grounds, a strange   but lovely bench along the boardwalk, three old men who reminded me of my dad (and a shipwreck!), the idyllic boardwalk view

the charming Silliman University in Dumaguete

Colorful Zamboanga

Clockwise: the beautiful and architecturally interesting airport, the super-funky trike and the very demure ladies of Zambo, a knickerbocker during sunset by the beach, Zamboanga sunset, me and deng looking stoked, Curacha!!!, and the top of the Zamboanga City Hall

Sights from Cagayan de Oro and Davao

I wish I had more photos of Davao and Cagayan de Oro! I don't know why I don't. Baaaahhh.

Easily the best decision I've made all year. Here's to bigger, bolder leaps!

Lessons learned from leaping

I wrote this in my journal while in one of my favorite writing spots: the CAL (College of Arts and Letters) Library. I had been meaning to post it much earlier, but after the time I spent running around for this project, I became consumed with making up for my many absences. But I did catch up, quite well actually :) I am grateful for that too -- and it merits its own post.

March 1, 2012 11:25 AM CAL Library

And so I am back home after the whole jet-setting life of jumping in and out of planes and running in and out of different places so quickly -- I loved meeting the inspiring people that we met. I wish I could have been less conscious of myself and more engaging with them -- I know that this is something that I have to work on.

I do feel at home here in the CAL Library, and I've come to appreciate the time when I sit here and write and ponder on my life. While there are so many other questions to answer, I celebrate that for the meantime, I have found a place where I can run to and be uninterrupted with my thoughts -- without the fear of being scolded or judged with how I am living my life.

But there are so many lessons that I learned from this trip, culled from all the great people that I've met.

From Deng: I learned that you should believe in yourself, in your value as a person, believe that you are as cool or as boring as you allow yourself to be. I also learned that true friends listen to you and are concerned about your life.

From all the interesting Volunteers and Members of Amnesty International (I worked on a video advocacy project that had me travelling to 5 different cities in 2 weeks):

That's me working during one of our shoots around Cebu!

Some of the AI members we interviewed in Cebu

From Hope/Mamou: I learned that you can gather courage from your oppression. It doesn't define you. Turn it into something that can help or inspire others. Hope, known as Mamou by AI members in Davao, was once a battered wife. Instead of letting the beating get to her, she used it as motivation to empower others so that it didn't happen to them. She always opened her home to everyone who needed a sanctuary, somewhere to be themselves in. Her joy was infectious.

From Strauss: Mamou's brother, also an AI activist in Davao, I learned that there are people who are so selfless that they devote their lives to fighting the causes of others. I was inspired by how simple and how kind they were -- yet they were also so passionate about all the things that they did.

From Date Ed Rosales (Datu Chieftain of the Bagobo tribe): I learned that one must be proud of where he came from. Celebrate your roots. Keep who you are inherently and work hard at keeping it pure. In trying to find good partners to align with his tribe, he taught us how to be careful not to succumb to political leanings. He always thought about what was good for his tribe, long-term.

From Yasser: He is a young AI member from the Tausug tribe. I learned how one should be real and uninhibited. He joyfully celebrated differences and embraced what made them similar instead. From him, I learned too that one must be humble enough to trust.

From the LGBT AI members: Own your decisions. Campaign for what you think is right. But be respectful and respectable about it.

My friend Deng pondering the state of being on a street named Little Children in Dumaguete

From Jia: She was a lovely and vibrant member of AI Dumaguete who left an abusive relationship. She is a single mother with an equally charming son. You would never think that someone as happy and cheerful as her had gone through something as painful as that. From her I learned that you can still have a life even after your old one falls to pieces -- find places where you can learn to be strong, acknowledge that you are weak, but work to continuously improve.

That's Jia looking fab on set, Deng the director is in black

Our tiny crew with the happy members of AI Dumaguete

I loved seeing life lived in different parts of the Philippines. From seeing the sights and meeting the people, I saw how one could be happy anywhere. It was really just a matter of deciding how to see your life's circumstances and how to go about moving from there. 

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Rereading this post made me so happy that I was able to have this experience. It really was a gift. Thank you universe!

Parents

Photo from here.

So my parents are at a funeral tonight. It's their 3rd one in the last 5 days. Thankfully (not for the ones who've lost their loved ones, of course -- may they rest in peace) tonight's wake is for someone who is older than them (one of their friend's dad I think); but the other 2 were relatively contemporaries both in age and and lifestyle. Having my parents go off to these funerals feels terrifying and unsettling for me. While it is a fact of life that people die and that more often than not, our parents die before us, I question whether I am ready to survive a life without them. Most days, I think I am not. I question whether they have taught me (or whether I have learned) enough life skills to live on, and I also question if they feel like they know me well enough to make a pronouncement on whether or not I have made them proud as a person.

A lot of the time, during the most random things, I find myself looking at them and thinking about things I will miss about them when they are gone. Like how my mom falls asleep every time without fail when praying the rosary, even if she is the one leading it. Like how my dad's shirt hangs over his belly when he's sleeping, exposing his midriff to the cool air of the electric fan. Like how my dad bangs on my door in the morning to let me know that we are eating breakfast.  Like how when I look at my mom, even when she is being obstinately difficult and irrational, I see a sense of survival that I find myself depending on and that I am not sure I have. Like how when I turn on the radio in search of happy sunday music (mostly standards), I often see my dad's rounded figure tapping his fingers out on the table because he loves those too.

I am thirty now. It is such a strange and scary place. I thought I would know more, be more -- but I'm not sure I do, I definitely know that I'm not (as I imagined I would be at this age). What I can pride myself on though is that I am trying. Always trying. With weekend plans, with my daily life, with my plans for the future.   But what I am sure of is that I am thirty, I am not quite ready to be without parents yet. Not to move out, not to get married, and certainly not to fend for myself in the case of untimely demise (DEAR GOD NO). Who knew that I would be feeling this way at thirty? I know sometime in the future I must be ready, or at the very least, willing to live in a world where I have the most grownup opinion that I can count on.  But not yet, God.  Not yet.

On turning 30

Image from here.

I turned 30 a few days ago, and it went very differently than I thought it would. For the longest time, I have been dreading turning 30 because of recent developments (or non-developments) in my life that have set me back and changed my views of the world from how I perceived it a few years ago. For one, nearly my entire twenties was spent working in attempts to survive law school. All of this work was geared towards becoming a lawyer at the end of all that work and hopefully settling into a financially stable and exhausting (though rewarding) work life. When I turned 29 last year, I got the most devastating (I'm still recovering from its trauma) news of my life learning that I had failed the bar. The knowledge that I could fail something I had put so much into really crippled me, and I cut off many friends and hid from the world for a year trying to recover from the news. I couldn't make myself take the exam again and I had to really ask myself if I was willing to spend another year of my life working towards something that felt so futile and so thankless.

After a year of being inactive, of trying to grapple with who I am as a person and with what strengths I do have, I decided to forego taking the bar (indefinitely), choosing instead to work towards rediscovering my passions and capabilities. I am entrenched in the creative writing world now and on most days, it feels like this is (as it always has been) a much more comfortable fit for me than law ever was. Still, so much of my life feels like a question. I wonder always if not taking the bar is the correct step, if I will regret that I put it off for so long, or even if I could make as much as I did had I chosen to focus on becoming a lawyer and not on rediscovering creative writing.

I had thought that turning 30 would give me this clarity that would make me see things from an entirely different perspective, but the day crept in quietly, and without much fanfare. There were no glaring epiphanies or sudden directions or life paths discovered, only an awareness that I had been around for 30 decades now, and that I had better learn to enjoy the small moments as much as I look forward to the bigger ones. Life is made so much of the smaller moments, and I suppose these are the things you remember when you look back on your life later on.

If this year has taught me anything, it would be that life too is so much about having the courage to take chances. I had thrown myself into the ringer by accepting a project that allowed me to travel to 5 different cities in less than 10 days so close to all my deadlines, leaving little time for me to work on them. But I did it anyway and came out (for the most part unscathed).  So much of my life and my decisions are based on the prudent options, always foregoing adventure for what is expected, what is practical. This time, I just really wanted to do it without questioning if I could or couldn't.

I took this lesson and applied it to my birthday, and how I wanted to celebrate my life from hereon. It was an exercise in deciding how I wanted to do things, and then finding a way to do them anyway. I heralded its arrival with a few friends who stayed with me till midnight, over tapas and sangrias. I spent time with my family, and then gave myself the chance to relax and take it all in on a weekend jaunt to Baguio, one of my favorite places to visit. As I sit here now, by the balcony, enjoying the cool air while writing off the delicious food I had from the buffet, I feel quite pleased at the idea of wanting something and then making it happen.

Hopefully this is the start of a more conscious, more deliberate life, focused on the little things as well as on the big things. I want to stop fearing things and do more of them. Off the top of my head, I want to dare to dream about standing on a surfboard, riding a bike, go to Europe, kiss someone, and maybe even fall in love. I want to try new food, meet new people, find something that I am absolutely passionate about, and reclaim my fitness. I want to really feel alive, finally.

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?