. . .

 

Anything that didn't have life cannot die, 

Anything that wasn't first conceived cannot disappear

Everything that has life is vulnerable to death,

But not everything that lives dies

Everything that exists may fade, 

But there are things that have years and lifetimes to last, 

While others spend seconds or minutes at most

If anything that has life may die, 

Are the things that have died capable of living again? 

If anything may disappear, 

Are there those that may possibly be still found? 

Are the paths we walk linear? 

Or there are roads that go in rounds? 

For every story that has ended, 

Can beginnings be opened anew? 

For every mark and period that had been slated, 

Can a tale still continue? 

If there is such discovery in our courses, 

Where mishaps and fails become glories

Then, the hopes in our gaps

Are miracles that wait to be known

- Sarakit

bye, 2020

here we are parting, to our wits' ends

as usual, as had been with the other years

with you, I've learned a different meaning to every rhyme,

have conquered more battles and have shifted dynamically 

the photos I have gathered were not more on the seas and the mountains

but are more of the people, the smiles and their tears, the longings and our desires

this year, I rediscovered childlike faith,

to believe even when my hands cannot do anything

to listen to the song there is when waiting--

because it is wonderful in its aches, truths, and surprises

my adventures were not in stretches and lengths, not on the roads

but were in depths, in insights, in learning, all within

a reroute to the self, to unravel each of my whys

and to make decisions in the present, to reflect my hopes for the future

to have resided inside also meant

I have written (and hidden) more words

and have read and acquainted myself with more books

than I've had in the last half-decade

in all that there is, I have realized gratitude

a new tune to it, a new form of it

that it doesn't rely on the circumstance

and it always, always rests on perspective

everyday, faith, hope, and love--

I realized, if breathed in and out makes one the most beautiful

that it makes the eyes see, the ears hear, and the heart feel

the greatest miracles ever told- that ever happened /even/ in the darkest of times

"Until..."

There are many beautiful words I know of, words that calm me, compel me, or affirm me. But there's this word that, in different times, has engaged me into different emotions- relief, impatience, excitement, joy-it is the word until. 

Until has been attached with deadlines and anticipations. As I think of it, I remember the diverse ways it has been used, but right now, what I remember most when I hear this word are endurance, grace, and hope. 

In the atrocity of existence, I have resolved to live my life carefully surrendered to what my Master invites me to do, and it's constant obedience. It isn't easy and it brings me to places I most fear or most know nothing about, but here is where the word "until" reminds me of endurance. "Stay put until...", "Stand on until...", " Be still until..." Until... Until... 

God knows there's nothing easy in all that there is in life. The lives we lead call us to the uncomfortable, but there's an end to it and we could press on and find joy in endurance until... 

His grace is enough in the time of obedience and endurance. It calls me to things that are humanly impossible for me, but then, the word until also reminds me that there's grace that would constantly fill me in when troubles seem to sway me. Grace makes dancing the best sway that the storm could bring me to, grace makes existence livable for me, grace fills me in when I cannot do anything other than trust Him. 

And all these grace and endurance shall be completed when I see the word that follows the word until, and that is the hope we the faithful shall look forward to- until He comes back to conquer the world. The beauty that rests in this promise has been constantly shaping our hearts to be firm in following the path of righteousness. 

I have seen and done different impossible things in this short life I have lived. God has brought me into things that are beyond comfortable for me, and in this young life, even after all this time, He still calls me to endure by His grace until I see the completion of my hopes. And this, my dear ones, is what should keep us in this race of love and life, until He comes back to find us faithful.

Kilala Kita

Tila nagdilim ang kulay ng kalangitan

Dating bughaw ay naging maruming puti

Tumanaw ako sa kung ano'ng nasa taas

Ikaw ba ay nariyan pa

Tinawag Mo ang aking ngalan

Hinawakan ang aking kamay

Isa-isang hakbang, ako'y Iyong inaakay

"Kilala kita," bulong ng Iyong puso sa akin

"Tunay nga ba?" batid kong nakatingin

Ipinakita Mo sa akin ang kalangitan

Na nagbago na ng anyo

"Nakikita mo ba 'yan?" Iyong tanong

"Hindi na gaya ng dati," pailing kong bulong
Tinignan Mo ako nang may luha
"Hindi man gaya ng dati, 
Ngunit may natatanging kariktan."

"Ano ang nais Mo mula sa akin?" aking hinagpis
"Ang makita mong Ako ay nagmamahal sa'yo"
Patuloy ang aking pagluha
"Kilala kita," sinabi Mong muli.

"Ano ang kailangan Mo sa akin?" aking pagdududa
"Ang iyong puso at ang iyong mga luha"
"Pagkatapos...?"
"Huhubugin kita sa wangis na Aking nais sa iyo."

Paano pa ba na ako'y magtiwala
Kung narinig ko lahat ng piraso ng aking puso
Bumagsak at nawala

"Magtiwala ka sapagkat kilala kita."
Ako ay tumango at humakbang pasulong,
Patungo sa iyo...

"Kilala kita. Mahal kita."

Hindi pa rin buo ang kasiguruhan sa akin
Ngunit makikinig sa Iyo
Sapagkat nagawa Mong makausap ang puso
At maipakita ang Iyong pagsuyo

Muli, iyong sinambit, "Kilala kita. Mahal kita."

A day in the life

The branches of the trees intertwine, the rays of sunlight project its splendour, the roads are magnificent, the soul of the city sings a new song. I walk past through the people talking. I hear the news about him and her, I hear the children's early morning cries, and I hear the kitchens from homes getting busy. It is another day. 

People start rising from their momentary slumber. All start again. The music of the beginning rouses a new set of fears, inquiries, and expectations. I hear the rustle of the pages begin to unfold. 

The day has its own hue. 

Waking up to another day feels like a tug of  war about existing. If I am bound to discover all these, which sentiment should tap my passion? 

Then, there's the music of joy and sadness in a dance. 

Step here, 

move there, 

lift your arm forward, 

and bend your back. 

All these to exist. 

My tears find their way through, as a recognition to the alluring complexities of the humanity and the nature that emphasizes it. 

I glance back to the road, under the setting sun, with stars starting to peer through. How glorious are the changes of skies! There is a new hum to the world. A gentle longing for rest, the clicking of shutting eyes, 

the day beginning to fold into a pause. 

Yes, I hear you, the sound of desperation. 

How can value be added to what remains?

The moon and the stars- they share their space for their magic, they are going to bring a new ode to what has been. "Oh, people, these are the notes from everything that came and went under the sun."

There is another beauty that belongs only to humanity, and in the every corner of its being, a spark blooms into hope. 

Then, we can all be rest assured, rested. 

Day 47

temporary, new

all things are gray and blue

walls are the sky's limit

minds endlessly anticipate

the whens and hows are fickle

the whos and whys are ungentle

all under the lack of sun

sort, track them down

thoughts that before us frown

oh, where's reality

here, with time, it will flee

truth shall set light one day

these hands will break free

all over the hope for sun

one day, someday

our faces before each other

it will yet be, this future

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. 

092319

What's been going on:

= /still/ adjusting in a new job and setup, 

trying to outgrow the things used to

learning a different language of love

= routine's been the most structured one for the last decade

/still/ finding way around

discoveries, humbling discoveries

= never thought of what might be /until these days/

paths have never been an issue /until these days/

options, choices, decisions

= recovering from wounds and pains

reconciling realities about self and the lies that deformed it

searching for the lost innocence on world and humanity

The Woman That You Are

You will never be the woman you envy. 

As you read that line, her face comes to mind. Her expressive eyes, her lips when they curve into a smile. You remember the vigor she has or that gentleness in her when she walks. You remember her bright ideas. You remember her quietness. You remember her enthusiasm at life. You remember the way she is hopeful and light, or that reserved spirit that makes her a mystery. Why does she have to be this feminine? Why does she have to walk on the career path you want for yourself? All these features you remember with ache, all images quiet insults against your confidence. 

She could be anyone to you— the top student from gradeschool, that woman on a famous TV series, your best friend, your love’s past flame, or the woman he loves. She may be someone you know closely or someone who is unaware of you. 

But she’s always there. 

When you shop and look at yourself in the mirror, “do I get to look a little more like her?” or when you run downstairs in a hurry, making sure you project a completely different person, a person who could be more than her or could be from a completely different pole... she’s there. You do your best to take her out of your system, you try your best to find her in you.

But within you is you.

As you remember her, the soul within you hopes for the day you would recognize you. Oh, that you’d see that you have a sweet way in you, that you gasp when you see something you find lovely, or that you’d know that that gentle smile in your eyes is enough of an expression. The woman in you waits for you to express your unique artistry, or that you’d know that your dark eyes which are too deep or too small beholds a million stories. You like dancing but your feet won’t coordinate with the beat of the music, but still, you are your own fun person. Do you recall your best childhood memories running around hiding behind trees under the moonlight? 

You may try to be her, the woman you envy. But within you is an irreplaceable being only you can embody. And you are enough. That soul doesn’t limit you from admiring and crowning other women with words that they deserve, no, you don’t. Your soul even hopes that you could be inspired by her, but your soul hopes that as you recognize all these other women’s feats, you’d recognize yours as well. I hope you see that your cage locks you away from your own light. I hope you see that the woman in you is worth fighting for, worth believing, worth living up to. 

You are your own season. You are your own form. You are your own story. And you, you are enough to be free, to be celebrated, to be loved. 

Just as when you were created, He already knew your inward parts, knew your substance even when you were yet unformed (Psalm 139). You have been created with wisdom. You have been created with love. That makes you enough. 

So, no, you will not be her, but someone better for the life you own. You have always been designed to be you. 

052219

Lately,
= still trying to find reasons for what had been and seeing almost the same shadows cast 
= the darkness is still, but the time is almost dawn, it could be a cause of fear, but the time is ripening
= words and gestures marred the heart-- frustrating dreams that are still unbirthed to, but the resort will always be another step forward, and then, another one
= beauty is relative, but... yes, beauty is relative
= Loneliness is friendly and its subtle smiles keep on bothering me, I would have wanted out, but the conversations with it are quite engaging
= cut ties and deep wounds are drying up
= the skies still close its light and later on, break out as it should