Waiting

Saw Tita M again after a long time. I ask myself why I waited this long. I shouldn't have, but there you have it.

It was an emergency, and I thank all things holy that she was available.

Because I feel myself unraveling, slowly coming undone. And I'm grasping at straws -- anything, really -- just to keep afloat, trying my best to separate the fuzzy specters from what is real. Because, really, that's what it feels like right now.

I'm terrified. At myself. At how great this Sadness is this time. At how forcefully it is making its way back into my life. Everything scares me right now. Everything confuses me.

Except for a few things. Those things are clear.

Which is why I'm waiting. Which is why I shall be better. Which is why I will be happy again. I know it.

Because inasmuch as I know that the little things shouldn't be the source of my happiness, the little things make me want to be my own reason to be happy.

...

Things are about to take place and though I have decided to push through with them, the actual task of actually doing it looms heavily upon me. There are too many ways for this to fail and I am paralyzed with fear.

And pain. So, so, so much pain.

This is going to be so difficult. This is difficult.

All shall be well. This, too, shall pass. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away. Alleluia, alleluia. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

If Only

(Etched on one of trees in the garden: "The cure for anything is salt water...sea, sweat, tears.")

We're back at Dalipuga.

So, all throughout this "vacation," now's the only time I've actually had time by myself. It's just us girls here (Mama, Lucia, and I) and so that means Lucia and I have turned marsupial once more.

But I've had plenty of time to think. It seems like it's all I can do out here. And watch the waves.

The waves had been crazy the past few days. There was a storm of some sort in Manila this whole time. It's been nothing but blue beautiful skies here since Friday, but the waves had been crazy strong, the only indication that something was out of the ordinary. At this moment though, (it's 7ish in the morning), it's utterly calm. So calm, in fact, that Mama was able to bring Lucia to the sea to swim a bit. (Hence my sudden return into the mammal kingdom.)

The waves had died, but my thoughts are still crashing about, an indication that something is out of the ordinary. Far, far, far away.

If only things were different. I'm not even asking for things to be easier, just different. For there to be some sort of chance for something better. (Because we deserve it, damnit.) Because, now I know, and there is no way to un-know this.

If only I were free. If only there was a way, not even a way now, just...a way.

If only conclusions were decisions, too.

In a few hours I shall leave the waves, the skies, the sea. And when I return...more of this.

But at least now I know, and there is no way to un-know this.

Redefining Forever

(Translated from Italian by Ubaldo Stecconi, but this has a few minor edits by me...because I couldn't help it. Also, the story appears here without expressed permission, but I'm not doing anything here for a profit. So Internet gods, be kind!)

Coincidences
by Stefano Benni

There were a city, a white bridge, and a rainy evening in that order. From one end of the bridge, a man with an umbrella and a coat was approaching. From the other end, a woman with a coat and an umbrella. In the exact center of the bridge, there were two stone lions that had been looking at one another for one hundred and fifty years. The man and the woman stopped, they looked at one another, too. Then, the man spoke:

Man: "Kind lady, strangers though we are, may I take the liberty of addressing you to point out a strange coincidence? If I am not mistaken, this is the fifteenth time this month that we've met at this very spot."

Woman: "You are not mistaken, dear sir. This is the fifteenth time today."

Man: "Allow me also to point out that every time, we are each carrying a book by the same author."

Woman: "Yes, I noticed that: he is my favorite author. Yours, too, I presume."

Man: "That is so. Permit me to say that each time we meet, you blush violently. Coincidentally, the same happens to me."

Woman: "This also struck me as strange. I might add that you smile ever so slightly, and so do I."

Man: "It is truly incredible. Moreover, each time I feel as though my heart pounds harder."

Woman: "Quite unique, sir. I feel the same way, and my hands tremble."

Man: "A very extraordinary series of coincidences. I might add that, after encountering you, for a few hours, I feel a strange and pleasurable sensation..."

Woman: "Like a feeling of weightlessness? Like walking on clouds? Like seeing everything in more vivid colors?"

Man: "You have perfectly described how I feel. And in this state of mind, I begin to fantasize..."

Woman: "Another coincidence! I, too, dream that you are but a step away from me, right on this very spot of the bridge, and you take my hands in yours..."

Man: "Exactly. At that precise moment, a boat sounds its siren from the river, the one they call 'love boat.'"

Woman: "Your fantasy is the same as mine, it is incredible! In mine, after that rather melancholic sound, for some reason, I lay my head on your shoulder."

Man: "And I caress your hair. In doing so, I drop my umbrella. We stoop at the same time..."

Woman: "And finding our faces so close, we kiss long and passionately. A man on a bicycle passes us by and says, '...Lucky you, lucky you...'"

They fell silent. His eyes were shining, so were hers. The melancholy wail of an approaching boat's siren could be heard in the distance. Then he said:

Man: "I think, Miss, that such a remarkable series of coincidences cannot be by chance."

Woman: "I think so, too, sir."

Man: "What I mean is, we are not dealing with a detail, but with a long sequence of details. There can only be one reason for this."

Woman: "Yes, indeed. There can be no other."

"The reason is," the man said, with a sigh, "that there are bizarre sequences in life, mysterious harmonies, signs that only give a hint of their meaning, but for which we possess no key."

"That is absolutely true," sighed the lady, "it would take a medium, or a fortune-teller, or maybe an expert in some esoteric discipline to be able to explain the strange fateful events which echo daily in our lives."

Man: "In any case, what happened to us is truly unique."

Woman: "A series of remarkable coincidences, no one can deny it."

Man: "Perhaps science will be able to decipher all this one day. Meanwhile, I apologize for any inconvenience."

Woman: "It was no inconvenience. Rather, it was a pleasure."

"Good bye, kind woman."

"Good bye, dear man."

They walked briskly away, each one their separate ways.

---





Our understanding of happiness is that for it to be true, it has to be forever. If it ends, then it can't be true happiness.

The tragedy there isn't our misunderstanding of happiness (for truly, it must be forever to be true), but our misunderstanding of "forever."

Forever is a grain of sand. A renegade eyelash, resting on a cheekbone.

It is the time it takes for the harsh words to go to the heart and then to the eyes, to then form tears. For a strand of hair to separate itself from its sibling strands, to begin the inevitable descent to the ground (or someone else's shirt).

It is a child's laughter. A dog's howl. An overly excited, just-saw-her-friends-at-the-mall-oh-my-god-what-are-you-doing-here, 16 year old girl's shriek.

The color pink. The color red. Persimmon. Pewter. Mauve. Vermilion. Crimson. Ocher.

Our entire lives are made of many forevers, and if we don't see the happiness in all of them, then it's our own fault we are sad.

(Yes, it is my fault. But it's so hard to catch a forever these days. But then it comes, and oh, how it comes.)

We live for the coincidences (for the goosebumps that come with the realization of the existence of a coincidence), for how else will we know that we are still alive?

Because I'm Too Prudent...

...to write down what I actually want to say online. And so I will write down how I feel, in a roundabout way. Because this act of not speaking is actually speaking volumes (zero volume as it may be now), but not nearly as accurately as I want.

And how to remedy that? To speak tangentially (if not more accurately than I hope to be).

Yeah, whatever, I'm not making sense. I'm just going to slog my way through this Ick that is my fragile state of mind via Proust's questions again. (And, um, oh my goodness. I just went to that link and checked my old answers and...well...things are a little different now.)

..o..

The principal aspect of my personality: Personality? I dunno. Of my personhood, the fact that I am a mother.

The quality that I desire in a person: Intelligence + humor = Wit. (Please, Universe? Please?)

My main fault: Obstinate intelligence.

What could be my greatest misfortune: Sigh. Obstinate intelligence (that could probably be for naught save for a spell of engaging conversations over libations).

My dream of happiness: The pursuit thereof.

My present state of mind: The emotional equivalent of arms akimbo.

My greatest fear: That I am trapped and that the only solution would be to change my point of view, to keep looking at these walls as some kind of protection and not as a way to limit who I am...but I refuse to do so on principle.

Faults for which I have the most indulgence: Soiled nappies.

My greatest extravagance: Time for others versus time for myself.

My greatest achievement: This.




Ease up, Universe. I'm having a really tough time as it is.

I See What You Did There, God

So, the verse that I got yesterday? Picked the same verse today. :)

Pandesal, Pandasal

In school, we have this fishbowl filled with short verses from the Bible. They're called Pandasal (roughly, it means something to help you pray ― oooh, look at me, trying to translate :p). Anybody can come and pick out a colorful piece of paper and have with him/her a snippet from scripture for as long as he/she wants.

Sometimes, I use it like a Magic 8 Ball, picking a piece of paper right after asking a question. Sometimes, I use it like a fortune cookie, looking for a bit of sage advice (or warning?) for the immediate future. This is spiritual laziness masquerading as bare-minimum, nominal Christianity, of course. Ah, but in the busy-ness of life, I often justify this haphazard brush with God's word with the "at least (insert justification)" argument, and all is well.

Due to disgust-of-self, I eventually stopped picking out verses. I thought not doing it at all was better than doing it for the wrong reason. So I stopped. So I inserted yet another at-least-justification.

A few days ago though, I picked up the habit again. I dunno why, but for some reason, I felt a tug. I didn't really have a big question. I didn't really need to know anything about the immediate future (okay, that's a lie...sorry, God...but you know what I mean). I just did, previous wrong reasons be damned. (Er, sorry, God...But is "damn" really a bad word? Shake the Magic 8 Ball...)

Because though we have the wrong reasons for reading scripture, I think God's reason to touch us, in any way he can (be it as banal as being reduced to Magic 8 Ball or fortune cookie status), is never wrong. He has reasons to trump our silly reasons. And when those reasons manifest, it's pretty bad a...AWESOME. It's pretty awesome. (Sorry.)

Amazeballs Manifestation Number One

The verse I got this morning was this:

One thing I have asked from the Lord, that I shall seek: That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, To behold the beauty of the Lord and to meditate in His temple. (Psalm 27:4).

I'm just going to let those who know my situation kinda bob their heads and say, "Oooh, God. I saw what you did there." For those of you who don't know, my apologies. I've become more prudent in my old age. Just know that this verse is fantastically calming and appropriate. Basta, what's important is that I seek to live in the shelter of the Lord first. Stress on "seek." The desire to seek. To seek the desire (Desire with a capital D even!) to live with the Lord. First. Above all else. Above even the desire to finally have a different, er, dwelling situation.

Good God. :'(

Amazeballs Manifestation Number Two

As I was scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed, I chanced upon a "conversation" of sorts (is that what you call the comments that follow a status update?). A former student of mine picked up another one of these pieces of paper and shared what he had picked. As he was describing what his piece of paper said, he mistakenly referred to it as pandesal, or bread ― the kind that you can buy for very cheap almost anywhere here (but they are sooo good, but I digress). A friend of his corrected the minor error, but I found beauty in the error itself.

Pandasal.

Pandesal.

Prayer. Food.

‎Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst." John 6:35.

There was beauty in the error. There was poignancy. And just as God spoke to me through my wrong reasons, he spoke to me through this unbelievably minor (but major) error.

Oh, God. You do make a habit of making something beautiful out of the flawed. Thank, God. I mean...thank...you. :)

Today was a hard day. But it was a good day. It started pretty badly (much more awful than it has in a while), but I had a bit of good news (in fact, it's fantastic news), and it ended with Lucia falling blissfully asleep in the middle of Good Night, Moon.

And so feebly, in pretty much the haphazard way, I shall pray tonight, not necessarily for anything, but just...

...

Amazeballs Manifestation Number Three

Sigh.

Just...(full stop).

. . o . . 

“I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time ― waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God ― it changes me.” ― C.S. Lewis

Goodbye and Thank You, Cynthia

I've always loved Cynthia Alexander. Her songs have the power to transfix me. Musically, she's a cross between a long drink from a quiet brook after a hot and difficult upward trek, and, dark, rich, hot chocolate on a cold night. But more than that (if even possible), her lyrics just draw me in, in, in, in...into a part of me that I didn't even know needed comforting.

Back when I was single, I used to go to Conspiracy along Visayas Avenue (alone), just to watch her. (Also because their pizza tasted so goooooood with beer.) She's not that intimidating to look at, but when she starts singing...oi. Many a time I cried (yes, on my own) because. Well. I needed to, I had to, I was compelled to, because that's what happened when Cynthia lulled the darkness out of me. Hands down, my favorite song of hers is Comfort In Your Strangeness, a song I've used to help me say what I've often had difficulty to fully express what I wanted to say. When she played that, ay, ayan na the tears.

And now she's saying good bye, relocating to Seattle. I wasn't able to watch her gig last Friday because the school had a major event, and I doubt if I'll be able to watch any of her gigs in this Send Off Series* (now that I am married and with a small child), but Cynthia, know that I am sad to see you go.

Here she is, from last week. I love how the crowd sang for her when she was unable to do so. :')




Thank you for being such a comfort to me. And for reminding me to find comfort in Strangeness, in the Absurd (and in the Pink).

"I have seen

I have been

to places far and deep in my mind only to find

comfort in Your strangeness"

----

* Her next shows are this Friday at 70's Bistro along Anonas and then this Saturday at Conspiracy once again. :)

Home

It comes slowly, like cascading raindrops on a downward race to the rubber lining of a car window on a rainy day.

Sometimes the pace is slow, like during a light drizzle. Sometimes, like today, the descent is a bit fast, like during a stormy day. Like today.

Maybe the posted pictures are making it a bit more difficult today. Or maybe it's the day that was (Father's Day was yesterday). Or maybe...

...it's that the past few days were stormy. Cold. Wet. Like early spring in Grand Rapids, when the rains wash away the last bits of snow, when the few brave tulips start making their presence felt.

For reasons known to some, I can't necessarily say that where I am living right now is home. So now, more than ever, when I say "home", I actually mean Grand Rapids. When I was there, I was so busy wanting to go back home, meaning here in Manila, only to realize that unbeknownst to me, I was surreptitiously creating bonds, setting down my roots, such that Grand Rapids has come to mean home to me now.

I can still remember the smells of the trees, the potholes that I needed to avoid as I drove to the nearby D&W, which stoplights to take along on Cherry Street to go to campus.

Of course, "home" is where Chad and Lucia are. "Home" right now then would be our room, our haven in the midst of the toxicity that is the structure in which we currently live.

But home. Home. Capital H, Home...

Who knew I left my heart in Grand Rapids? I certainly didn't. But there it is. At least for today.

------

Happy Father's Day to my two favorite men. 

Papa, you are the first man I ever loved. And though you think you could've done better, I have no doubt that you carried out God's plan for me and my brothers in the best possible way you can. Almost everything I know, I learned from you. I live my life so that you and Mama can be proud of me! :)

And to Chaddy, thank you for being an even better father than I thought you would ever be. You are my and Lucia's rock and we draw strength from you. Thank you for providing for us and for keeping us safe. When you are around, we know that all will be well. Thank you for being my Lord's Intended.

Last Day of Vacation

Banana eating.

Napping.

Cupcake eating.

Tower building.

Wii-ing with Daddy.

Mess making.

Mess clearing.

Mess making (some more).

Learning how to blow bubbles.

Mastering how to blow bubbles.

(Amazing!)

Dancing. And dancing. And dancing.

NB: Original pictures are from Ariane Alingog, from a recent party at their house. :)

Focus!

Must focus on the essential.

School starts tomorrow and things will start to get busy.

Must trust that all will be well even if I leave Lucia behind to work...

...that she won't ruin Lucia's kind heart.

Please, God, when will this end? :(