Entries from June 2008 ↓

I have an ocean’s worth swimming in my head right now. Some are as fierce as sharks in clamping onto my attention. Others are like little minnows that flit in and out of consciousness. Some are big, Jonah-style fishes that seem to loom over everything else.

Here’s a sample of my fishies:

I wish I can move back to 924. I wish it were 2010 already. I wish that I can get past the QLC confusion and just live.

I wish I had an 8-day week. I wish academic papers wrote themselves. I wish the library would stay open until midnight. I wish our grades were 99% class participation. I wish classes before 12 noon disappear. And that I’ll stop procastinating and filling my schedule to bursting.

I wish I can eat all I want and not suffer the consequences. I wish I had a body clock. I wish I can motivate myself to exercise more.  I wish my allergies would just go away. And that contact lenses aren’t so uncomfortable.

I wish I had a coffee press, black boots and a laser printer. I wish I knew how to pick my own clothes. I really, really wish I had a laptop with wifi. I wish I owned all my favorite books in hardcover with those wonderful glossy colored jackets.

I wish I can watch Twilight. And Lea Salonga perform as Cinderella. And Les Miserables in Broadway. Or just attend a musical theater worskhop.

But some of my wishes have come true. Here are some of the fishes I’ve caught:

I went to Cebu 5 years ago and to Bacolod last summer and in both instances, witnessed something truly magnificent. I’m studying in Diliman and reading a lot. I’m attending Life-Growth, a one year Bible course, which miraculously did not conflict with my schedule. I have a baby to harass play with adore (a little early though). As of this week, I have tutorial students again and thus a parttime job. I’m on better terms with her now. I have an official accountability triad, after 5 years. I can now sing alto without being drowned by my choirmates. My wisdom teeth are gone, happiness! Another wish granted: belonging here and there for 8 years now.

The past 3 years have also given me this: I know what I’m not supposed to do and where I’m not supposed to be. Whatever people may say to the contrary.

I now have more than an inkling of what I’ll do for the next two years. And a lot of exciting hints on what comes after that. 

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A month ago, I had a scary encounter with a person wielding a very sharp knife. Well, I do owe that dentist for getting rid of my final impacted wisdom tooth… but only after over an hour of slicing, drilling and hammering at my jaw. Consolation: due to the stitches, I was not able to eat solid stuff for a couple of days. And hurrah! no more surgical procedures in the forseeable future!
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After a month long camp in Bacolod, and 6 weeks of eating regular meals, the inevitable happened: most of my pants did not fit anymore. Sigh. But problem solved, due to my stitched gums and a lack of money, I lost all 6 kilos in 2 weeks. Happiness!
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That sinking feeling I had when I looked at my bank account balance and realized that, for the first time in three years, I won’t be receiving a paycheck twice a month. Parental scholarship is very frightening for a control-freak like me.
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Another scary but not suprising happened during enrolment: one of my subjects for evaporated from my CRS enlistment. Ah, when will the University get its act right? At least I got enrolled in just two days.My schedule is nicely scattered, with 6 hours vacant twice a week.
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Last week, my heart sank to my shoes while looking at the syllabus for my four subjects. A reminder why I have to study full time. Thankfully, I managed to fit in tutorial jobs into my “free time”. I needed the cash and my students can be respondents for three of my research papers. Then I got that sinking feeling again when I realized that I have to think up of lessons for them in addition to my acad load.
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Frank was the cause of a daylong brownout yesterday. Spent the day sleeping, buried under a comforter and four pillows. I starved also, but that’s okay. I also spent the weekend fixing my mess of a closet (abandon hope all ye who enter here!) and babysitting my adorable niece. Which inlvolves distracting her from her hungry wails while her mom is busy and giving her back to her parents when she needs her diaper changed.

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Did an overhaul of my schedule. Let go of many and kept only a few. Sorry for the drastic change, but it is needed for my sanity.

 

 We had one of our semi-regular KC reunions in Makati last week in honor of a friend from Cagayan de Oro. As usual, the talk turned to memories of the camp, which led to another quotable quote from one of my kuyas:

“Don’t check my grammar, check your feelings!!!”

This made me think of something I learned in Educ class. Studies show that parents rarely correct their children’s grammatical errors; instead, they check the “truth value” of what the kids say. For example, when a little girl said “Daddy buyed me a present yesterday,” the mother would just reply “No, sweetie, Daddy bought you a present last week.” She corrected her daughter’s statement about time, not the little girl’s use of the past tense.

I realize that I have been so busy checking the grammar of my life recently, trying to create order out of an unstructured life. Edited the redundant things and proofread the unneccesary words and typos to make my discourse sound and look good. Set deadlines, made to-do-lists, budgeted resources and got caught up in the quest for a life that would follow the rules. Once again, I fell into the trap of focusing on the wrong things.

I’ll skip the grammar and go straight to the heart of the matter. Not just checking my feelings, but reminding myself of my values and His truths.

Here is my Spirit-check:

I want to learn.
I want to teach.
I want to share.
I want to express myself.
I want to live out stories.
I want to be a tentmaker.
I want to be part of small beginnings.
I want to create things of beauty.
I want to belong to something greater.
I want to love and be loved.

I want to know God and enjoy Him forever.

Sometimes I like to wake up very early in the morning. I love the feel of thedawn chill and dewy grass, the sight of stabilo-bright sunrise and the rapid fire chirping of the birds. I crave the silence and listening to the slow build up of noise as the rest of the world wakes up. Usually, though, I wake up in time for lunch.
Sometimes I like watching TV. Say, once a year.
Sometimes I need to be alone. To wallow in my thoughts and catalog the things I need/want/cannot do, figure out the next steps and make schedules and lists that last all of two weeks. Sometimes, I get this urge to be away from people. Watch a movie, speed-read books or take a long walk all by myself. Normally, I am surrounded and engulfed in a group. 
Sometimes I enjoy math. Especially if the numbers have peso signs before them.
Sometimes I am quiet, even when I am surrounded by friends. Listening and observing people can be fascinating. Other times, I am just too tired to talk and be my usual bubbly self. Sometimes, I feel out of place, disconnected, out of the loop. Very rarely though. Sometimes I know that silence is the best answer.
Sometimes I like shopping, but only under the strict supervision of my more fashionable friends.
Sometimes I don’t feel like doing anything. Sometimes I get tired of being assertive and just want someone else to make the decision for me. Sometimes I just go with the flow.
Sometimes I want to dance. Then I remember that earthquakes are not fun.
Sometimes I feel sad when people say goodbye. Sometimes I feel happy when they leave. Often, I just let them go.
Sometimes I dream that I can fly. 

And sometimes I hear God speak to me so clearly that saying no is not an option. Like now.

When I was still chained to a computer 5 days a week, what made cubicle incarceration worthwhile is facing a blank WordPress blog template and filling it up with my thoughts. Sometimes they come tumbling out by themselves in an outpouring of joy or angst or fear or gratitude. Often, I find myself groping for words, struggling to make them flow just so, carefully putting them together then deleting everything and starting all over again. And again.

 

There are times though when I just can’t think of anything to post. When writer’s block rears its ugly head, I go through my blog links hoping to be inspired by what my friends have posted.

 

Like this brilliant idea called Truth Thursdays which has been going on since May here. And this is my version:

  

My body is holding onto….

 

My body is holding onto the feel of kawayan slats and the thin mattress beneath my back and the way grass pokes through my clothes as I gazed at the starry night. My body wants to hold on to its former size but failed (no regerets). My ears are holding onto the sound of their laughter, cries, and sweet voices in harmony. My eyes hold onto their smiles, tears, exaggerated action songs and faces.

 

My body is holding onto that eureka moment when I first taught and shared and connected. I tightly hold onto 6 years of prayers and visions, dreams and revelations. My faith is holding onto the rock so that I can go against the flow.

 

I am holding onto the way you said my name.

  

My body is holding back….

 

My body is holding back my best for fear that even that is still not good enough. I’m holding back my heart because I don’t want it to get bruised and bleeding and broken. I’m holding back cruel words that I long to hurl like weapons because others will end up bruised and bleeding and broken.

 

My thoughts are held back because they may lead somewhere I do not want to be.  My body is holding back its excitement because this may just be too good to be true. My love is held back because goodbyes always come and hurt a lot.

 

I am holding back from missing you.

  

My worries for today…

 

Too much time and not enough money. Too many words and not enough deeds. Too much power and not enough responsibility. Too much emotions and not enough thoughts. Too many expectations and not enough guidance. Too much talent and not enough focus. Too much, too soon.

 

Adjustment and new beginnings. Flying cockroaches, broken zippers and missing keys. How comfort zones can come and go in the blink of an eye. Old cellphones with cracked screens and flash disks with Trojan horses. Martha syndrome and my tendency to go to either extreme. 

 

I worry that I may will leave you behind.

  

Today I carry…

 

The soft, squirmy, fragile bundle cradled her in my arms. Inhaled and held in the sweet scent of milk of newborn’s breath. I carried and rocked her until the soft wails turn into big-eyed silence as she gazed up at me. Today I carried the first of our family’s next generation. Today I carried the future.

 

Today I carry their stories in trust, names and details bound in silence for safety’s sake. Today I carry a piece of paper that tells me where I’ll be for the next semester. Today I carry their schedules with the understanding that we commit to come together and have fellowship. Today I carry the knowledge that in him all things are possible. Today I carry hope.

 

I carry you in my heart today and always.

   

And for a while at least, I carry this song:

 

As If We Never Said Goodbye
Andrew Lloyd Webber

Don’t know why I’m frightened
I know my way around here
The cardboard trees
The painted seas
The sound here
Yes, a world to rediscover
But I’m not in any hurry
And I need a moment