Debunking My Personal Myths

This morning, I hear the neighborhood taking it easy. There's a kind of noise that informs what kind of day it is. Today, I hear murmurs of children playing, of quiet and limited banters among neighbors, and of animal sounds that turn up occasionally. It must be a day of rest. Well, for others. 

I started my day mingling with my thoughts. My introspections brought me to questioning my own motivations, digging deeper into my exhaustion, and analyzing my choices. I tried to understand some of my beliefs and how they influence my lifestyle. You see, I haven't been very proud of my life's structure. While documents would say that I am a very productive ~professional~, my cats and I know so well how every move requires me long hours/days of rotting towards recovery (30s people might know). Along with this, I started to perceive how the days pass so quickly that I get surprised and frustrated by it all, that I feel a sense of longing for the days that went by without me fully being there.

Maybe this is how adulting feels like. Maybe I have done this to myself. 

Thus, the introspective wonders. How have I been living? How have I been counting my days? Why am I living like this? What is my end goal to everything? Should there really be more? Or is this how things really transpire when you're older. Would it worsen as I carry on? 

Until I recognized a phantom that has been residing in my head. It seems to me that I have been living with this sense of transience that limits me from truly embracing and seizing who I am in the season I am in. The imagery that came to mind when I tried to imagine myself is of a person waiting at a lobby. 

My last decade, as an adult, has been met with various tragedies and postponements. Contrary to the vibrant days of my younger years, I ached with unbearable pains that were beyond anything I could have imagined. Most times, they happened when I least expected them to. Maybe that's one of the pangs to it, the shock that comes when something painful happens. Little by little, such experiences taught me of the impermanence of happiness. I found myself distancing from whatever it is that I do because I am not sure how long I have to linger in my present hallways. And although I have such vigor over the choices I have made, or that I have my glimmers in these spaces, the anticipation for the worst keeps me on my toes. 

While I understand the fancies and foibles of man, I still cannot move past these fears. Any day of relaxation or even of routine could lead to a day of disaster. I have to keep myself guarded. I have to keep myself ready to spring up for the worst. And the dreams and promises I so desire for myself? I acknowledge their ephemerality. Oh, but I do hope for them with all my being! I yearn for them with every strand of my consciousness! I remain with them even in the bleakness of it all. But... I do acknowledge their ephemerality. 

The person waiting at the lobby of an establishment waits with anticipation for the next instruction. Lingering there, but not quite belonging there. That place is no one's place. People do what they can to while away the time there. With no sense of finality to it. Because in a beat, they would have to proceed. 

Some wise men's words tell us that if we live with the consideration that time is fleeting, we live with ardour and substance. Although this is the highest of my dreams--to live meaningfully--the sense of impermanence took a turn that is impeding me. I live my days with the thought that I am merely whiling my time away, scared that if I proceed I am going to be caught off guard again, that I could get hurt again. Of course, I am with jobs that are not for whiling away anyway, but how I feel when I do them comes with a sense of detachment. How I spend the gaps in my days lacks the intention that comes with using each piece of time to build your life. 

The phantom of the belief that surfaced as I tried to understand myself is finally visible to me. I shut my eyes tightly and took a deep breath in recognition of these. I do accept the person that I am in the middle of these beliefs that developed over time. And just now, I think of how healing could probably look like this: days spent in uncertainty, days spent being on guard, until I find a safe space for landing where I could run free again. I do understand this person. Believe it or not, allowing her fears to linger felt like a protection, a form of precaution.

But she has to proceed. She has to know that she can proceed now. I have to know that I can proceed now. 

The time spent at the lobby is a meaningful time of whiling away. Ha! From outsiders' perspective, it may not look like whiling away at all. I'm thankful and I'm glad I had the space to be scared, to be unsure, to be guarded. But healing is also moving forward, finding the courage again, and rediscovering my hopes. 

Allowing my personal myths to surface is significant. Understanding them is pivotal. But it is important for me to challenge them. It matters that I conquer them. It matters that I overcome them. It matters that I pick up the pieces again and acknowledge that what shattered me are no longer part of my life and that they are the ones that are not permanent. 

I am going to trace my steps forward now. 

The day is still unfolding and I can still hear the neighborhood resting. New sounds from thuds of what could be minor repairs here and there are now heard. Subtle laughters are adding to the music. Animals are slowly getting more giddy, barking, chirping, and meowing. The day is proceeding. The day is preparing to face what comes after resting.

Stuck Home, Journey Back home

WARNING: LONG POST. 

Shortcut: Just read the paragraphs in bold at the bottom of the post, if you're needing any inspiration. (But if you're up for some journal stuff, then, you have the whole one)

Doors shut, smiles covered, skins distant. In one snap, the whole world changed. Just like that. 

I have watched the decline of everything, with hopes that it would lack permanency, that all these are but for a moment. Just a minute, just a couple of weeks, just a couple of months, just for some time. In the beginning of the community quarantine, I was in awe of the effect of the virus, invisible as it may seem, it felt to me like a giant octopus with all its tentacles simultaneously shutting down everything we know, leaving a few doors thriving. 

Personally, it drove me into an internal gray. Prior to this, I was starting a business, trying to balance my regular routine with new activities, helping organize a summer missions project, and meeting up with friends. Everything seemed promising, until the announcements were made. We had to make decisions. For me, the decision-making process was the difficult part. It wasn't like there was much to decide on, everything was declared by the government, we just have to conform our schedules to it and align our hearts to the change that is about. 

I tried to respond positively but there was retaliation within. Staying home is not a problem with me, it was just it was difficult for me to do if it wasn't me who really decided and planned to not go out. But I knew I had to honor that. I wasn't fearful for myself mostly, I was afraid I'd communicate sickness and hurt people if I do anything reckless. 

For the first few days, it was hard, until my body and mind learned the new routine. "Okay. I am staying home. I am favored to have shelter and food. I am privileged to have avenues for entertainment." So, my internals were starting to concede to the new system. For the next couple of weeks after that, I became okay. Totally. I decided to go on a social media detox which was extremely helpful for my mental health and I avoided communicating to friends online, not because I didn't wanna talk to them, but because the concept of instant messaging was draining me. 

Along the way, my body clock reversed. I spent the early hours of the new day watching anime and dozing off with thoughts of my past. The wee hours of the morning became sanctuary for my unintentional self-therapy sessions. It can be annoying to confront things I put aside, but then they keep coming back, compelling me to give them more attention, maybe, so that I could totally be over with them. 

Then, there's being 24/7 with my family, which I have not done in a long, long while. I mean, yes, I spend time with them, but not to this extent. There are times when we could really rub against each other over the little things. Adjustments were to be made. Responsibilities needed to be taken. 

Oh, and there's the looming uncertainty. The constant question has been, "Until when?". Who knows? Everyone in the medical and research field has been doing their best and we are left to put our faith on our frontliners who have been serving beyond their capacity. Is there still room to anticipate? 

I started putting my heart against waiting. What would be its use? I guess that the thoughts that run in my heart when I wait become all selfish. "When will I get to eat out again?" "I would love to buy a few stuff (unrelated to basic needs) right now." "Man, I'd really love to go for a wild adventure, a hike or two this month." And so on. All this time, my waiting is for myself. 

Then, I start to read the news and the recent researches. The virus is bound to stay longer, etc. People are having their "new normal resolutions". Lifestyles are threatened to remain drastically changing, we would have to own up new schedules. So, can I share a hug with a close friend? Can I use utensils in public places? I am not the most conscientious person in the room and the thought of being extra careful spells struggle to me. How can I do it? I fear that if I fail to be extra careful, I'd carry this virus to others. 

Wanting to meet personal goals and productivity at this time starts to kill me as well. I feel like I need to be able to tell myself that I was able to seize my quarantined days well, that I was able to accomplish goals and that I became a better version of myself after! Because who is not trying? 

But right now, with all these thoughts triggered again, after the announcement of another extension of community quarantine, I choose to let them go. 

Earlier, before writing, I prayed and started listing down priorities for myself. Whatever these simple priorities might be, they were to help shape my schedule and life for the following weeks. But if I wouldn't be able to follow them, it should be definitely be alright, because why not? 

To be responsible and to extend my hand when necessary could be enough. I admit that there's a weakness to my mental health that I have to address and that, at this time, I am not limitless. But regardless, I can still find worth in who I am.

This time of staying home has been bringing up things that are ugly and that are taking a toll on my sense of peacefulness, but I train myself to converse with these issues. I could definitely quiet them. This time, I could shred off all the things and fears that don't matter. I could honor my heart's core by looking within and focusing on what matters most. 

What I am discovering now is who I am in time of chaos. There are memories that wave at me, calling my attention. The time we are granted can be a gift to journey back home, back within ourselves, to reevaluate our priorities, to criticize our pride, to enlighten our confusions.

Each one of us may have our own patterns right now, but I know that all of us find struggles at this time. It will definitely not get any easier, but I learned to assess what the situation teaches me. Knowing this doesn't necessarily help me find the cure, but it helps me to manage all these disorganized piles of uncertainties and plans. 

It is gonna be alright. Things will brighten up again. Faith will begin to make more sense now. Let's be there when the clouds reveal the sunshine again.