last week was only four days and yet it was so, so long. perhaps because it felt like one very, very long day, maybe with one of the highest levels of stress thus far, not so much because of the many meetings, many people, many deliverables... but because of the quick flight and quick falls in feeling. feeling okay with myself one moment and then in absolute loathing the next. articulating fine one moment and then giving probably the worst elevator pitch at work to date, the next.
dear Lord, let it be over. i just want to be more peaceful about myself from now on.
on thursday it seemed to be the last crash. i always tell myself, don't break down at work. don't break down at work. and then it just happened. it was partly having come from a meeting with new possibilities that i would have to reconcile in order to get a project moving forward, part Ms M's unexpected speech about living in the now, part "where is your confidence?" and part plain disabling hormones (i got my period that evening).
you made a mistake. so what? V said.
sitting at the restaurant bearing another error of misunderstanding the promotion and realising it was only the pumpkin soup that was discounted that day, J said: i'm just kidding! geez, stop being so uptight. work hat, off. he raised his eyebrows at me. i almost react instantly. and then realise: he knows what he is saying. he knows this, what is happening. and even if he didn't, ultimately, he is right.
and so we keep moving forward. a little at a time.
and things really, really need to move. K called later that night to clarify what exactly she can expect of me to actually do. and i assured that everything i failed to finish at work today would be done by the new day. staying up that night gave a shockingly familiar feeling of school. and for the first time in the last few months, feeling like being in school wasn't a bad thing - this feeling was of doing something because i knew i cared about it and that i had all the capacity to do it, to do it the way i want and envision and the way it is needs to be. it would have been a bad thing if i was doing something just to fill in a gap or act out of uncertainty which often led to errors.
it was an uneasy sleep that night and for some reason, there were dogs in the vicinity continuously barking that it kept waking me up.
i was in school five 4.5 hours later, tired but mind awake. i felt my mind and body awaken while kneading all the little balls of clay for the kinder class. which did not happen. and by some miracle did not phase me. where it should have set me awry and trying to find footing, i just settled in, grabbed the bread pudding for breakfast in my bag, made instant coffee, changed my chair, read the day's Word, and was full speed ahead by 8 AM.
i am not really sure what unlocked that friday, but i wasn't thinking. wasn't thinking in a way that crippled me or in a way that a mirror blocks your path not just because of its physicality but because of the image that it projectile vomits back at you.
at the end of the day i realised i was carrying a headache which didn't even stop me the whole afternoon.
this is normalcy. this is what i am supposed to be doing. how i am supposed to be functioning. how have i been able to not do this all this time? i am ashamed of the wasted time and i pray that it happens less, if not never.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
examenxxv
brain exhausted. tonight i imagine Jesus beside me in all activities. play with play dough with me and the kids please. and sit beside me and make sure i send all emails i need to - and remind me if i havent noticed that i havent cc-ed or clicksd reply-all. ask questions with us and help me engage with the people we are meeting.
and thank You for being there.
the mystery today Lord is a strange one. your ways are strange. but in love, we are joyous. eager about what you will do next.
(written last night before realising that internet was not at all cooperating, and consequently falling asleep )
Monday, January 19, 2015
examen xxiv
18 jan before bed.
a while ago, i almost started to do something incessant. i was going to 'prepare' to write in here. by pasting pope quotes and bible verses. and then arranging them so i can write in between.
the second drink of peace was in the car on the way back, catching a bit of Pope Francis' message to the youth at UST. Allow yourselves to be surprised by God. Don't be afraid of surprises. They shake the ground from under your feet. They make us unsure but they move us forward in the right direction.
the third drink of peace was the rain that felt like it covered me from the day's noise. in my room despite the mess of boxes and things to be put in place, i was able to read.
the fifth drink allowed me to not be affected by my parents. i calmly and easily helped in sorting the boxes in the kitchen extension, despite my dad's quiet negative aura and my mother's natural hustle and bustle. i realized, it was really my mother who chose this. she has tried so hard to make a home in transit. there are so. many. things. and i saw my dad tired of wrapping up yet another plate after the assessment that it is not needed in this house. life could be so much easier, so much lighter for them. for my mother, especially.
a sixth gulp was taken when i leaned back from a situation and overcame anxiety. i am not alone in work. there is no use for self-sufficiency. lighten up. don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything; tell God your needs, and don't forget to thank him for his answers. if you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. his peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ Jesus. (philippians 4:6-7, TLB)
a while ago, i almost started to do something incessant. i was going to 'prepare' to write in here. by pasting pope quotes and bible verses. and then arranging them so i can write in between.
i used to write every day out of necessity, because my mind was brimming with words and it needed to be laid out. why is there so much silence now?
and the preparing. arranging. researching. like, really, enough already. if this doesn't stop now, one day someone will ask me "how are you?" and i'm going to want to go away to do research in my own rigidly routine daily journal, read notes for the day, compare them with notes from the past week, and then calculate some sort of mean.
thank You God that you didn't allow my dissertation supervisor to get back to me about publishing my paper. i would have become the worst sort of nerd.
doing the research at work is a fresh challenge that should give me a better experience and healthier perspective, because it involves fieldwork. it isn't me at the desk surrounded by 100 books imagining the defense panel already scrutinizing just how i turn the pages. this is ironic because as a teenager i was an avid reader, but i wasn't booksmart. i guess i never have been - i just tried really really hard to 'back up' my othersmart-ness (?) .
anyway, back to the point. here it is, without preparation. because as Pope Francis said himself today, casting aside his prepared speech in favour of candid passion in his encounter with the youth...
Reality is superior to ideas. And the reality you have is superior to the paper in front of me.
the first drink of peace was at mass this morning when i continued my decision to stay in a pew rather than by the organ turning pages for my lola, or distracted by the ladies who painfully sing offkey often. this space...i really need this. to be able to sit and listen to the Word, to remember Jesus, without distraction. even within the celebration of the mass itself.
the breakfast at pancake house afterwards was not a drink of peace. my mother was again orchestrating/directing all things and i was bothered by it. she commented a few times about how food/drink was sitting at the counter and it would get cold. since i knew she was hungry, i offered her her share of blueberry pancake that was on my plate already, so she could eat. ma, gutom ka na noh? kain ka na, sayo naman 'tong isang pancake eh. hayaan mo na lang yun darating rin yan. she didn't take it well: hayaan mo nga ako!
the second drink of peace was in the car on the way back, catching a bit of Pope Francis' message to the youth at UST. Allow yourselves to be surprised by God. Don't be afraid of surprises. They shake the ground from under your feet. They make us unsure but they move us forward in the right direction.
the third drink of peace was the rain that felt like it covered me from the day's noise. in my room despite the mess of boxes and things to be put in place, i was able to read.
the fifth drink allowed me to not be affected by my parents. i calmly and easily helped in sorting the boxes in the kitchen extension, despite my dad's quiet negative aura and my mother's natural hustle and bustle. i realized, it was really my mother who chose this. she has tried so hard to make a home in transit. there are so. many. things. and i saw my dad tired of wrapping up yet another plate after the assessment that it is not needed in this house. life could be so much easier, so much lighter for them. for my mother, especially.
a sixth gulp was taken when i leaned back from a situation and overcame anxiety. i am not alone in work. there is no use for self-sufficiency. lighten up. don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything; tell God your needs, and don't forget to thank him for his answers. if you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. his peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ Jesus. (philippians 4:6-7, TLB)
Saturday, January 17, 2015
examen xviii
saw a photo of B today and it reminded me of my old life. it was some of the best days in england, living with her, because we were both aware of space we needed individually and the support needed to get through the last leg of university. thinking about this for a little while, in context of all that has been happening here back home, makes me realise that i am somewhat looking for that same rhythm. the time away from everything that allowed me to be 100% where i needed to be, to root back to.
it's never going to work and i'm never going to find that time - at the end or at the beginning of the day - because it is here, now, i am in it, 100%. my rhythm has become accustomed to feeling that i have to pull away from everything to be able to be grounded again.
you are home now. you are free to be.
it doesn't make sense to put new wine into an old wineskin, because any of that which is new and nourishing and awakening and sweet... it will fall through the cracks, the holes.
last night i made a promise to throw away the old wineskin. to put it to rest to gain real rest in what is new and what is present and what is the truth about reality. i don't think i have ever cried that much in three hours. it really felt like at that moment i just carried everything. i carried the weight of my mistakes, and i carried the weight of myself that K had felt all this time. it was all there and dispensed into the roll of tissue that V handed to me. i grit my teeth in frustration.
i feel that God has been very particular about making things manifest in my life right now. they are not pleasant manifestations but they are helpful. He helps me by making the state of my spirit very obvious. it's overworked in all the wrong ways. it is calloused (the dried skin where painfully itchy rashes used to be continue to peel). it is malnourished, it needs vitamins (my right pointer finger's nail is currently beginning to come off... from the bottom - it looks as if it has run out of nail to grow).
and still, my prayers and my focus has been on what i produce. what i accomplish. making all that better. fighting new battles with new techniques while still wearing armour old and tattered.
all my internet sources were conking out on me last night so i took the time to be with the parents. i was half watching Hercules (2014) and also reading news about the Pope - until my internet just really gave up trying. i think God was trying to tell me that i don't have to divide my time that way. that i don't have to compromise to seemingly appease two different parts of my life - because they aren't different. that if i am fully present in a moment i will see Him there. and i did. not giving too much away, because it is a good film that is worth watching - Hercules worked with and lived the fullest of his potential in spite of uncertainty.
it's never going to work and i'm never going to find that time - at the end or at the beginning of the day - because it is here, now, i am in it, 100%. my rhythm has become accustomed to feeling that i have to pull away from everything to be able to be grounded again.
you are home now. you are free to be.
it doesn't make sense to put new wine into an old wineskin, because any of that which is new and nourishing and awakening and sweet... it will fall through the cracks, the holes.
last night i made a promise to throw away the old wineskin. to put it to rest to gain real rest in what is new and what is present and what is the truth about reality. i don't think i have ever cried that much in three hours. it really felt like at that moment i just carried everything. i carried the weight of my mistakes, and i carried the weight of myself that K had felt all this time. it was all there and dispensed into the roll of tissue that V handed to me. i grit my teeth in frustration.
i feel that God has been very particular about making things manifest in my life right now. they are not pleasant manifestations but they are helpful. He helps me by making the state of my spirit very obvious. it's overworked in all the wrong ways. it is calloused (the dried skin where painfully itchy rashes used to be continue to peel). it is malnourished, it needs vitamins (my right pointer finger's nail is currently beginning to come off... from the bottom - it looks as if it has run out of nail to grow).
and still, my prayers and my focus has been on what i produce. what i accomplish. making all that better. fighting new battles with new techniques while still wearing armour old and tattered.
all my internet sources were conking out on me last night so i took the time to be with the parents. i was half watching Hercules (2014) and also reading news about the Pope - until my internet just really gave up trying. i think God was trying to tell me that i don't have to divide my time that way. that i don't have to compromise to seemingly appease two different parts of my life - because they aren't different. that if i am fully present in a moment i will see Him there. and i did. not giving too much away, because it is a good film that is worth watching - Hercules worked with and lived the fullest of his potential in spite of uncertainty.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
examen xvii
the shipment arrived around noon today while i was at work.
i thought about it briefly, periodically while i sat at my desk going through the day's thinking doing communicating. it was strange, to suddenly feel a distance from this mass of objects caused by the desk at which i worked, the chair on which i sat, the shoes in which my feet rested - shoes that i had recently locally bought on sale for ony P 700.
i thought about it briefly, periodically while i sat at my desk going through the day's thinking doing communicating. it was strange, to suddenly feel a distance from this mass of objects caused by the desk at which i worked, the chair on which i sat, the shoes in which my feet rested - shoes that i had recently locally bought on sale for ony P 700.
what would it feel like to have our brown leather couch sitting on the reddish brown wooden flooring of my grandparents' house? the books that i brought home, would they all fit in my bedroom? how much of the stuff would be brought out to be used by the house?
it's interesting how the character of objects change when they are put in a different place.
when i got home after a decent walk, one of the first things i did was sit on the brown couch. it was a bit warm, especially after my walk. we once curled up on the couch to stay warm on cold nights. now i could barely lean back on it.
it was a weird sensation to be unpacking things and seeing them again after three months, and giving them new places in this house. i started to feel my mother being too 'accommodating' again and bringing out plenty of things to be used - when actually its functionality may already be addressed by other/similar objects in the household. like, we honestly don't need another set of dinner plates here, where the cupboards store about 50 years' worth of accumulated home ceramics and glass.
i only helped in unpacking things - the rice cooker (to replace one here that is actually already rusty), some pans, storage solutions, kitchenware, bits and bobs to show the grandparents - not so much seeking the boxes that i knew were mine.
it's interesting how the character of objects change when they are put in a different place.
when i got home after a decent walk, one of the first things i did was sit on the brown couch. it was a bit warm, especially after my walk. we once curled up on the couch to stay warm on cold nights. now i could barely lean back on it.
it was a weird sensation to be unpacking things and seeing them again after three months, and giving them new places in this house. i started to feel my mother being too 'accommodating' again and bringing out plenty of things to be used - when actually its functionality may already be addressed by other/similar objects in the household. like, we honestly don't need another set of dinner plates here, where the cupboards store about 50 years' worth of accumulated home ceramics and glass.
i only helped in unpacking things - the rice cooker (to replace one here that is actually already rusty), some pans, storage solutions, kitchenware, bits and bobs to show the grandparents - not so much seeking the boxes that i knew were mine.
i didn't feel ready to open them. it felt like pandora's box. like there would be more things to process on top of everything i have been processing lately, plus the necessary functionalities of my brain for work. perhaps i will just live with boxes in my room for a while.
though really, i need to just spend an entire day unpacking because i don't think i can take any more sense of compartmentalizing. the physicality of the cardboard box is already too much. all that packing tape that i had mastered applying with a dispenser onto coreners and edges. the numbers scrawled in blue or black marker, a lot of them by myself.
as much as i feel displaced, i also feel home. the arrival of all these boxes (when i stepped into the house there was even a distinct smell that was like london) has told me that. the juxtaposition shows me what has become familiar and steadfast the past three months. i am grateful for this.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
examen xvi
10 jan.
it took me a while to arrive in this space today. i am not sure what causes that kind of resistance.
maybe it's a feeling that i don't have enough to say. or that there's so much that i don't know where to start. maybe it's an obsessive-compulsive tendency that i have to go through my life in orderly and most importantly chronological fashion.
which is true. back then when i had to steal internet from the neighbours and had limited time on the laptop, i would carefully recount every few days all the days that had passed, making sure each day had words allocated to it, making sure that each day was accounted for. perhaps it was a way of making sense of circumstances that always changed. i knew my words wouldn't. so i pinned them down.
and then i grew up and a layer of documentation tendencies was somewhat stripped. being any kind of polarised is bad, i guess, because my old methods of remembering caused me to experience always in retrospect. but then growing from that made me go too far, so much that retrospect became something small, reliant on other things, people, circumstances. not that i wasn't always reflecting and thinking. i don't think that ever stops. but a physical manifestation of it was needed to become something that affected my life.
if this sounds like you.... make some changes, and urgently. being a prisoner of your own mind is never a good thing.
yesterday, i tripped up near the end of the day at a meeting. i have noticed that i often absorb information or instruction and then go away to exert extra effort to figure out exactly what was said... or go through unnecessary stress because of it. self-sufficiency is not always a sign of strength. things are much simpler when seeking answers is done the most basic way: by asking questions.
despite this last night was a good way to end a work week - dinner and drinks. i decided against alcohol because i haven't been taking to it well at all since i got back. is it the change in climate = i'm slightly more dehydrated to begin with? is alcohol in the UK so widespread that having a pint there is about 3/4 of having one here? i can't be bothered to stick it out and find out why or go through headaches just to increase resistance. so when glasses were raised for a toast, i held up a large teacup. (no one even commented or asked why i'm not drinking. thank God for adults - i am so sick of that spiel.)
the evening reminded me of who i am. where i am comfortable. what i don't have to make myself deal with. where i want to go. who i want to be.
*
11 jan.
i fell asleep writing last night. the consequence of resistance is that you do not accomplish.
i am taking time for myself before lunch because thankfully the rhythm at home today is quiet. after hearing from my dad that the shipment should be delivered on wednesday night, i had anticipated that the weekend would be a bustle of making space, of my mom's quick steps and flapping slippers, of small irritable discussions and light jokes. yesterday they were out helping our tita move in to her own house; her shipment had arrived last thursday. i had an appointment at work so i got out of it.
i think my parents, especially my mom, have an uncharacteristic rhythm today because last night they received news that one of their good friends from their 20s had passed. there were no tears, but i think they were quite guilty for not having visited the past few months despite knowing he was in hospital for kidney failure. i am not sure how they are processing things like this. i'm not sure what they did or what words were exchanged behind their bedroom door. but my dad was mindlessly on the computer for a bit after the phonecall, and then ended up watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. my mom was beside him, on the iPad, half watching and half playing a mahjong game. but today, they are meant to go to the wake in the afternoon and they're quiet. plans to ready the house for nearly 200 items made of boxes and furniture seem to be put on hold. my mom didn't even say, baba ka na magaayos tayo.
i have received and have been reflection on a few stories the past week that need pinning down. i have to leave the writing for now but i'm noting it down for the next one, so it doesn't get lost:
- lolo, the church, their land.
- lolo, and his life wealth.
- Jesus' humanity, and the art that remembers it.
it took me a while to arrive in this space today. i am not sure what causes that kind of resistance.
maybe it's a feeling that i don't have enough to say. or that there's so much that i don't know where to start. maybe it's an obsessive-compulsive tendency that i have to go through my life in orderly and most importantly chronological fashion.
which is true. back then when i had to steal internet from the neighbours and had limited time on the laptop, i would carefully recount every few days all the days that had passed, making sure each day had words allocated to it, making sure that each day was accounted for. perhaps it was a way of making sense of circumstances that always changed. i knew my words wouldn't. so i pinned them down.
and then i grew up and a layer of documentation tendencies was somewhat stripped. being any kind of polarised is bad, i guess, because my old methods of remembering caused me to experience always in retrospect. but then growing from that made me go too far, so much that retrospect became something small, reliant on other things, people, circumstances. not that i wasn't always reflecting and thinking. i don't think that ever stops. but a physical manifestation of it was needed to become something that affected my life.
if this sounds like you.... make some changes, and urgently. being a prisoner of your own mind is never a good thing.
yesterday, i tripped up near the end of the day at a meeting. i have noticed that i often absorb information or instruction and then go away to exert extra effort to figure out exactly what was said... or go through unnecessary stress because of it. self-sufficiency is not always a sign of strength. things are much simpler when seeking answers is done the most basic way: by asking questions.
despite this last night was a good way to end a work week - dinner and drinks. i decided against alcohol because i haven't been taking to it well at all since i got back. is it the change in climate = i'm slightly more dehydrated to begin with? is alcohol in the UK so widespread that having a pint there is about 3/4 of having one here? i can't be bothered to stick it out and find out why or go through headaches just to increase resistance. so when glasses were raised for a toast, i held up a large teacup. (no one even commented or asked why i'm not drinking. thank God for adults - i am so sick of that spiel.)
the evening reminded me of who i am. where i am comfortable. what i don't have to make myself deal with. where i want to go. who i want to be.
*
11 jan.
i fell asleep writing last night. the consequence of resistance is that you do not accomplish.
i am taking time for myself before lunch because thankfully the rhythm at home today is quiet. after hearing from my dad that the shipment should be delivered on wednesday night, i had anticipated that the weekend would be a bustle of making space, of my mom's quick steps and flapping slippers, of small irritable discussions and light jokes. yesterday they were out helping our tita move in to her own house; her shipment had arrived last thursday. i had an appointment at work so i got out of it.
i think my parents, especially my mom, have an uncharacteristic rhythm today because last night they received news that one of their good friends from their 20s had passed. there were no tears, but i think they were quite guilty for not having visited the past few months despite knowing he was in hospital for kidney failure. i am not sure how they are processing things like this. i'm not sure what they did or what words were exchanged behind their bedroom door. but my dad was mindlessly on the computer for a bit after the phonecall, and then ended up watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. my mom was beside him, on the iPad, half watching and half playing a mahjong game. but today, they are meant to go to the wake in the afternoon and they're quiet. plans to ready the house for nearly 200 items made of boxes and furniture seem to be put on hold. my mom didn't even say, baba ka na magaayos tayo.
i have received and have been reflection on a few stories the past week that need pinning down. i have to leave the writing for now but i'm noting it down for the next one, so it doesn't get lost:
- lolo, the church, their land.
- lolo, and his life wealth.
- Jesus' humanity, and the art that remembers it.
- B and her faith. in the wake of paris.
Friday, January 9, 2015
examen xxv
and just like that, it's friday again.
it's half an hour to the next day and i'm not sure how long i'm going to last on this screen.
trying to recall the past week -
monday was the worst way to start a work year. but He breaks down and reworks to form in His good will. the worst things became the stone to step on to break through being under for a long time. on the phone in the wake of a plundering mistake and harsh truths, i was surprised that i wasn't burying myself in the sand or feeling like the dog poo that was out of place in V's car that evening. it was only a few weeks ago that i would have done, felt, and stayed as exactly that.
if that was the first day... let the rest of the days following defeat it. every single one.
tuesday was full of talking to people, and recalling talking to people. i began to feel a presence of mind that i hadn't had the privilege of the past few months.
it was my grandparents' 55th anniversary. i bought a tiramisu cake and stuck a cheesy opera rehearsal photo of them on a toothpick and stuck it on. i pulled their chairs closer at the dining table so that i could get a photo of them. corny ko daw, and my lolo was quick to jump away an inch when we requested that they feed each other some cake. 55 years sounds like such a long time. i don't know what kind of love is between them right now. it would be good to get a description but i am a bit shy to ask - and partially afraid to hear perhaps a truth that i don't want to hear. but they are both good, good people. with flaws like everyone else. but they are still here together. my lolo still buys lola decaffeinated Cafe de Vita even though it's probably a bit too much on the calories. and my lola is shuffling around with arthritis-ridden leg joints, making him tea when the helpers aren't around.
my eyes were feeling quite strained, so i thought i'd skip on a shower that night. the thought of closing my eyes and not having to receive any light in them at all was beckoning. but i brought to bed the warmth of a quarter of a glass of wine (?!) and a mind boosted and buzzing. at midnight i finally get up and take a shower and my temperature significantly improves and i can pray and fall asleep.
i am wanting to go back on paragraphs and edit the shifting tenses, but.
moving on
wednesday and thursday was heads down and cracking on. i don't think i've ever felt focused like this in this particular place of work until this past week.. and about bloody time, really. the work is here. it is a mountain and we need to get through it. i can't even say climb, it suggests that i move only myself. to get through a mountain (however you would want to do that) suggests a tedious task, to say the least, of moving myself and moving other things, other people, other matters.
J appeared at the office door on wednesday.
i think i remember the word zeteo arriving on a wednesday, too, for some reason. it was at my cousins' house in cubao where we had been exiled to because my mom had gone through radiation treatment for hyperthyroidism and being in-house radius of her meant a higher chance of not being able to have babies. i didn't care about having babies then. i cared about being uprooted from a home, from activities (Pentecost) in the church, and from some strange quasi-closeness due to geographical proximity with P after yet another fall-out.
it wasn't a coincidence, i suppose, for this word to emerge in the wildnerness. and i can tell that this is happening again. things emerging in the wilderness.
my brain didn't immediately register J's face, maybe because of his new hair. maybe because i haven't seen him in a while. maybe because i haven't seen him in a long, long time. he looked around the office and said, ano 'to, St. James?
he announced singapore but he didn't really answer my question asking what it's all about. maybe he assumes K tells me everything anyway. maybe he really doesn't care.
i haven't used the word melancholy in a long time, and that day the word found itself hanging in the room. singapore - what a great opportunity. from walking around in the mall because there was nothing better to do, to this. i think the opportunity is employment but it felt like he was flying solo and that he was really all in. i remembered when he showed me all the keynote presentations he made as we drove to manilafame. i kept saying how great it all was. i still wonder what happened after that day because he really stopped communicating after that.
i am grateful for the past week. grateful for the opportunities, the projects, the challenges. the chance to do work that could change people's lives. and just as i wrote that sentence, i really felt grateful. (writing helps this important disposition and emotion.) despite being tired and despite the unattractive thought that i have to wake up in 5 hours. despite the fear of failing and it having repercussions that are beyond myself. today is friday, and i am going to sleep.
it's half an hour to the next day and i'm not sure how long i'm going to last on this screen.
trying to recall the past week -
monday was the worst way to start a work year. but He breaks down and reworks to form in His good will. the worst things became the stone to step on to break through being under for a long time. on the phone in the wake of a plundering mistake and harsh truths, i was surprised that i wasn't burying myself in the sand or feeling like the dog poo that was out of place in V's car that evening. it was only a few weeks ago that i would have done, felt, and stayed as exactly that.
if that was the first day... let the rest of the days following defeat it. every single one.
tuesday was full of talking to people, and recalling talking to people. i began to feel a presence of mind that i hadn't had the privilege of the past few months.
it was my grandparents' 55th anniversary. i bought a tiramisu cake and stuck a cheesy opera rehearsal photo of them on a toothpick and stuck it on. i pulled their chairs closer at the dining table so that i could get a photo of them. corny ko daw, and my lolo was quick to jump away an inch when we requested that they feed each other some cake. 55 years sounds like such a long time. i don't know what kind of love is between them right now. it would be good to get a description but i am a bit shy to ask - and partially afraid to hear perhaps a truth that i don't want to hear. but they are both good, good people. with flaws like everyone else. but they are still here together. my lolo still buys lola decaffeinated Cafe de Vita even though it's probably a bit too much on the calories. and my lola is shuffling around with arthritis-ridden leg joints, making him tea when the helpers aren't around.
my eyes were feeling quite strained, so i thought i'd skip on a shower that night. the thought of closing my eyes and not having to receive any light in them at all was beckoning. but i brought to bed the warmth of a quarter of a glass of wine (?!) and a mind boosted and buzzing. at midnight i finally get up and take a shower and my temperature significantly improves and i can pray and fall asleep.
i am wanting to go back on paragraphs and edit the shifting tenses, but.
moving on
wednesday and thursday was heads down and cracking on. i don't think i've ever felt focused like this in this particular place of work until this past week.. and about bloody time, really. the work is here. it is a mountain and we need to get through it. i can't even say climb, it suggests that i move only myself. to get through a mountain (however you would want to do that) suggests a tedious task, to say the least, of moving myself and moving other things, other people, other matters.
J appeared at the office door on wednesday.
i think i remember the word zeteo arriving on a wednesday, too, for some reason. it was at my cousins' house in cubao where we had been exiled to because my mom had gone through radiation treatment for hyperthyroidism and being in-house radius of her meant a higher chance of not being able to have babies. i didn't care about having babies then. i cared about being uprooted from a home, from activities (Pentecost) in the church, and from some strange quasi-closeness due to geographical proximity with P after yet another fall-out.
it wasn't a coincidence, i suppose, for this word to emerge in the wildnerness. and i can tell that this is happening again. things emerging in the wilderness.
my brain didn't immediately register J's face, maybe because of his new hair. maybe because i haven't seen him in a while. maybe because i haven't seen him in a long, long time. he looked around the office and said, ano 'to, St. James?
he announced singapore but he didn't really answer my question asking what it's all about. maybe he assumes K tells me everything anyway. maybe he really doesn't care.
i haven't used the word melancholy in a long time, and that day the word found itself hanging in the room. singapore - what a great opportunity. from walking around in the mall because there was nothing better to do, to this. i think the opportunity is employment but it felt like he was flying solo and that he was really all in. i remembered when he showed me all the keynote presentations he made as we drove to manilafame. i kept saying how great it all was. i still wonder what happened after that day because he really stopped communicating after that.
i am grateful for the past week. grateful for the opportunities, the projects, the challenges. the chance to do work that could change people's lives. and just as i wrote that sentence, i really felt grateful. (writing helps this important disposition and emotion.) despite being tired and despite the unattractive thought that i have to wake up in 5 hours. despite the fear of failing and it having repercussions that are beyond myself. today is friday, and i am going to sleep.
Monday, January 5, 2015
examen xxiv
1 jan.
reading Jesus by James Martin, SJ. only the first twenty or so pages and i feel fresh eyes awaken in me. there is much to discover. history is one thing i need to ignite my faith.
family ties. new year gratefulness. more dignity needed.
Lovely Lady dressed in blue. teach us how to pray.
don't turn your mistakes into self-fulfilling prophecies.
* * *
4 jan.
the past couple of days have been relatively restful. going in chronological order:
on the last day of 2014
despite the turbulent start of having to run errands and do grocery shopping with the parents and arguing with my mother that no we do not need another pasta dish ...
my eyes were not much around but looking inward. i bought a book semi- on a whim, it was rather thrilling grabbing it and then just going to the till in the next 7 seconds. for some reason i felt that despite the uncertainty of it being a suitable present for my lola, i had to get it. that was the beginning, in the day, of looking inward. paying attention.
i knew i was grateful for a lot in the year, but it felt like i needed to know where that gratefulness was coming from to really feel it. for someone who started adult life surrounded by letters, i sure have been away from them.
i felt some breakthrough in conversation with K. just as my earthly life has been lived out of boxes and neat 3 and 6 year periods of different cultures, countries, and people... so has my interior life become.
my faith was not anchored on what didn't change. and so it did.
the conversation reminded me that i am a catalyst in my own life. but i have to look deep enough to realise that. the last three years away, at university, i was more displaced than ever - displaced in a place of displacement. most of my daily life was literally in transit. in 4-seater train booths and tired buses, on friends' couches... and so, so, so many encounters of differences to either reconcile with or just ignore.
i read the first few pages of Jesus: A Pilgrimage (James Martin, SJ) - the book i had bought earlier in the day. i knew then why there was such a strong feeling to get it. it was for me.
maybe i'll get another copy for my lola. maybe i'll lend it to her. maybe we can even read it together. lola's faith could also use some wind to fan the flame that hasn't changed in 20 years. to help her see how she can pray differently.
on the first day of the new year
felt blessed by the mass. there is a beautiful song that lola has the choir sing sometimes, and this time it was sung for the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. i have just looked it up and apparently it is a poem by Mary Dixon Thayer, popularised by Archbishop Fulton Sheen. my lola has a songbook by Sister Cecilia Maceren who made a little lullaby of a melody for a revised version of the poem. i am happy to find that the song wasn't the full poem:
in the song, God is replaced by Jesus.
*
the bustle for the tandem of new year celebrations and my father's birthday, coming solely from my mother, never fails to tip over the balance on this day. (meanwhile, my birthday doesn't always stir the need for even a cake.)
Lovely Lady dressed in blue
Teach me how to pray
Jesus was just your little boy,
Tell me what to say
Did you lift Him up sometimes
gently on your knee?
Did you sing to Him
the way mother does to me?
Did you hold His hand at night?
Did you ever try
Telling stories of the world?
O! And did He cry?
Do you really think He cares
If I tell Him things
Little things that happen?
And do the angels' wings
Make a noise? And can He hear
Me if I speak low?
Does He understand me now?
Tell me, for you know.
Lovely lady dressed in blue,
Teach me how to pray!
God was just your little boy,
And you know the way.
in the song, God is replaced by Jesus.
*
the bustle for the tandem of new year celebrations and my father's birthday, coming solely from my mother, never fails to tip over the balance on this day. (meanwhile, my birthday doesn't always stir the need for even a cake.)
i am wondering what has happened between my parents that sets this off. or maybe it i really just my mother's nature. i wonder why i am so easily affected. do i see myself in her? do i see the worst of me in her? are the bad traits of my parents all the traits i am trying to correct in myself?
it was a good lunch with the family and with cousins around.
we are more comfortable with each other now compared to the first time they came in october - i myself had mostly no idea how to be amicable, because 1. i felt very little familiarity, and 2. i was feeling some residue of resentment towards my tita's family - more specifically cousin 1, cousin 2, and tita - because of their reaction to my sister's wedding. now that i think of it again, they never really resolved it. they backhandedly criticised, and then seeing that it went ahead anyway, chose to then change their reactions. i am not sure if they had reconciled with my dad about it. but they surely had no communication with my sister apart from the facebook comments or notes on the timeline.
it was only cousin 3 who had reacted differently although he never ended up expressing his thoughts unlike his siblings. one day i'll get it out of him.
there was more laughter this first day of the year, despite whatever little pockets of tension. we cooked, ate, cracked jokes, and even played a game. in the afternoon, my family - just me and my parents - found ourselves on the couch watching The Amazing Spiderman. i realised we hadn't watched a single film together since we got back; something we did regularly in london. i was grateful.
but encountering my mom's tita was a fresh challenge that evening. we had only invited them for food, but somehow she had managed to make my dad driver for the night. the imposition was quick, subtle, and almost a joke - and suddenly her husband was saying, halina halina at ayaw ko masyado magpagabi. as he waited impatiently standing at the door and asked repeatedly where my dad was (he was just getting ready to leave at moment's notice, obviously), i could feel how angry i was becoming. it was my dad's birthday and his one request was to be able to watch Guardians of the Galaxy in the evening. my mother said not a word. she was just smiling, laughing, and got ready also to keep my dad company.
thought of the night was: don't turn your mistakes into self-fulfilling prophecies.
in my head, i faced the idea of making mistakes again. it was scary. and i had no idea how soon it would arrive. but i cannot react the same way again. i cannot be glued to the ground again. the mistakes do not define me.
2 jan.
when i wrote for the Hebrews devotional i am currently doing. i need to be more regular with this especially because things are becoming more busy.
this day was quiet. i ran errands, was able to read a little (i want to learn more about Historical Jesus.), had a voice lesson, and then went to mass with K and J. mass was nice and it was one of those moments where it felt like i was exactly where i needed to be. i think i've noticed that sitting farther down the church, away from the altar, around the middle, is a good distance for me. i feel like i can concentrate more. this house of God is so big. it is big enough to give me that small space i need to be solitary in community. i will have to communicate this with my lola, who usually expects me to be with the choir.
voice lessons are hitting a challenge peak because i am past the stage of beginner and am currently just at this in between beginner and novice and this valley really sucks. my lola had me record myself and i am horrified to listen to them all. i couldn't even finish half of Ave Maria. i sound different recorded compared to how i think i sound. there seems to be almost zero resonance beyond the inside of myself - which is what i hear, which makes me think i am at least a quarter decent. no wonder my lolo never says much, and just points to his diaphragm. i don't know how easy he thinks this diaphragm business is, but it definitely is not.
learning a new skill is making me realise the importance of repetition again. of practice.
(at the same time, i need to have another conversation with my lola that at the moment i cannot commit to being a full-time voice student because there are other things that need repetition, practice)
i have a lot of little patches of brand new skin, now. each day they blend in more and more.
*
i think 3 to 5 jan need their own space.
thought of the night was: don't turn your mistakes into self-fulfilling prophecies.
in my head, i faced the idea of making mistakes again. it was scary. and i had no idea how soon it would arrive. but i cannot react the same way again. i cannot be glued to the ground again. the mistakes do not define me.
2 jan.
when i wrote for the Hebrews devotional i am currently doing. i need to be more regular with this especially because things are becoming more busy.
this day was quiet. i ran errands, was able to read a little (i want to learn more about Historical Jesus.), had a voice lesson, and then went to mass with K and J. mass was nice and it was one of those moments where it felt like i was exactly where i needed to be. i think i've noticed that sitting farther down the church, away from the altar, around the middle, is a good distance for me. i feel like i can concentrate more. this house of God is so big. it is big enough to give me that small space i need to be solitary in community. i will have to communicate this with my lola, who usually expects me to be with the choir.
voice lessons are hitting a challenge peak because i am past the stage of beginner and am currently just at this in between beginner and novice and this valley really sucks. my lola had me record myself and i am horrified to listen to them all. i couldn't even finish half of Ave Maria. i sound different recorded compared to how i think i sound. there seems to be almost zero resonance beyond the inside of myself - which is what i hear, which makes me think i am at least a quarter decent. no wonder my lolo never says much, and just points to his diaphragm. i don't know how easy he thinks this diaphragm business is, but it definitely is not.
learning a new skill is making me realise the importance of repetition again. of practice.
(at the same time, i need to have another conversation with my lola that at the moment i cannot commit to being a full-time voice student because there are other things that need repetition, practice)
i have a lot of little patches of brand new skin, now. each day they blend in more and more.
*
i think 3 to 5 jan need their own space.
Friday, January 2, 2015
deeper: hebrews 2
it was difficult to enter the Word this time. where the devotional says read once to enter, read once to impress, i think i read five times. an irony because the second chapter begins with a 'warning to pay attention'. my mind feels spent although waking up wasn't a disruption of the night's rest. i went to sleep after reading, full and grateful for the fresh perspective of James Martin's Jesus, although it was a late hour after a long day with an unexpected bitter pill. perhaps i will start sleeping better when there isn't so much overhaul for my subconscious to process beyond waking hours.
enter & impress
God testified to us through Jesus. we were the ones who had sinned, we are the ones needing to go through the great length of transformation to testify. but He beat us to it. He carried the cross before any of us did. and still... everyday, people - new servants - are brought into this world and He has subjected all things to [us]. God left nothing outside [our] control.
all things. it is a lot to be gifted, to be given responsibility for, to attest to. it is too much to compartmentalise. the only way to live subjected to All Things from God is to be consumed by it and to let it live your life.
a new way to look at being a vessel.
pray & live
this word, testify, it moves me. i am called to be a witness not because it is a reaction to the life and work of Jesus on this earth, but because i am a child of God and being a witness is part of my identity, just as my brother. The one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. perhaps Jesus is witnessing too when we sit at the table of the Eucharist. He is not apart from us because to break bread is to share. to do this in remembrance of me is to join him in witnessing. to remember our responsibility and our identity as children of God. it is not just to remember the act of the Passion, the suffering, our unworthiness. it is to remember that we are loved.
God has equipped me for this journey home: It was fitting that God . . should make the pioneer of [our] salvation perfect through sufferings. ... Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested. He has given me a brother to walk with me and to protect me in the dark night and the heat of the day. to whistle with me to cause a breeze. to break bread with me. to laugh with me and cry with me. to know the people around me and draw in good company for the road home.
in Martin's book i have started reading, he talks about how it is difficult enough to grasp Jesus' divinity, but what is the greater challenge is to understand and accept Jesus' humanity. and Kreeft said, it happened thousands of years ago and all of humanity is continually shocked by this. shocked. and so there can be no other way but to be electrified into life by this. to not be is to not look at Jesus' humanity and the love of the Father.
Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things .... he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people.
sharing flesh and blood. sharing the anxieties, the stress, the fear. the joy, the love, the humor, the excitement; from this little place, this little life. all to become more merciful. more faithful. it isn't just us who are on the journey home. Jesus made that journey, too.
thank you for your Word, Lord. i have always known that it is the greatest book ever written but for a long time i have allowed it to be abstracted by the time and space of the thousands of years passed. i lost my reading rhythm after i found You because no story has ever satisfied me enough. here's to the year ahead of a resurrected imagination to listen to this greatest love story that spans the universe, between God and his children.
enter & impress
God testified to us through Jesus. we were the ones who had sinned, we are the ones needing to go through the great length of transformation to testify. but He beat us to it. He carried the cross before any of us did. and still... everyday, people - new servants - are brought into this world and He has subjected all things to [us]. God left nothing outside [our] control.
all things. it is a lot to be gifted, to be given responsibility for, to attest to. it is too much to compartmentalise. the only way to live subjected to All Things from God is to be consumed by it and to let it live your life.
a new way to look at being a vessel.
pray & live
this word, testify, it moves me. i am called to be a witness not because it is a reaction to the life and work of Jesus on this earth, but because i am a child of God and being a witness is part of my identity, just as my brother. The one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. perhaps Jesus is witnessing too when we sit at the table of the Eucharist. He is not apart from us because to break bread is to share. to do this in remembrance of me is to join him in witnessing. to remember our responsibility and our identity as children of God. it is not just to remember the act of the Passion, the suffering, our unworthiness. it is to remember that we are loved.
God has equipped me for this journey home: It was fitting that God . . should make the pioneer of [our] salvation perfect through sufferings. ... Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested. He has given me a brother to walk with me and to protect me in the dark night and the heat of the day. to whistle with me to cause a breeze. to break bread with me. to laugh with me and cry with me. to know the people around me and draw in good company for the road home.
in Martin's book i have started reading, he talks about how it is difficult enough to grasp Jesus' divinity, but what is the greater challenge is to understand and accept Jesus' humanity. and Kreeft said, it happened thousands of years ago and all of humanity is continually shocked by this. shocked. and so there can be no other way but to be electrified into life by this. to not be is to not look at Jesus' humanity and the love of the Father.
Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things .... he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people.
sharing flesh and blood. sharing the anxieties, the stress, the fear. the joy, the love, the humor, the excitement; from this little place, this little life. all to become more merciful. more faithful. it isn't just us who are on the journey home. Jesus made that journey, too.
thank you for your Word, Lord. i have always known that it is the greatest book ever written but for a long time i have allowed it to be abstracted by the time and space of the thousands of years passed. i lost my reading rhythm after i found You because no story has ever satisfied me enough. here's to the year ahead of a resurrected imagination to listen to this greatest love story that spans the universe, between God and his children.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)