Somewhere, lost in the wind
I’m watching you
Sunlight touching your hair
And I remember
Somehow, we said that we would never stray
But somehow we lost our way
Promises too often spoken
Are easily broken apart
I’m ready this time
I know that I’m no longer undecided
Don’t wanna be
A fool wondering what might have been
I first paid close attention to this song last year, on a road trip to Tagaytay with former officemates. It stuck in my head because it coincided with an important career decision I made that time. And realizing that choosing an option means that I have to let go of other choices. They were equally good options, yet they were just not for me.
Trace of forever lingering
Drawing me closer to you
A new beginning
Now I know
There is no doubt I understand
Just how fragile love can be
I can’t forget
Your mem’ry found me
Now I know where I belong
I’m ready this time
I know that I’m no longer undecided
Don’t wanna be a fool wondering
What might have been
Last weekend, I heard this song in Tagaytay again. Once more, it coincided with several major decisions I had to make. Maturity for me means realizing that having the best means not having it all. Slowly and surely, I’m discerning my sweet spot and developing self control. I also decided not to go into situations where I’m not needed or wanted. I am practicing the art of keeping my relationships with an open hand, letting go of unnecessary ones to make room for the new.The verse “The old has gone, the new has come!” inspires me.
Through every day, into the night
With only love to guide us
I’m ready to go, coz I’ve got to know
What might have been
Let the lovin’ decide, I can’t run, I can’t hide
I want you to know
My heart will show that I’m ready this time
I know that I’m no longer undecided
Don’t wanna be, a fool wondering what might have been
I’ve searched everywhere, and nothing compares
When we’ve got love to guide us
I’m ready to go, coz I wanna know what might have been
I’m wondering what might have been
We’re gonna find what might have been
Oh I wanna know what might have been.
This is actually a happy time for me: another chapter is unfolding right before my eyes! I really love new beginnings! Yet in the middle of this answered prayer, I find myself looking back at the what-might-have-beens. With a tinge of longing and regret, sometimes. But more than that, I reflect on the choices I’ve made with a sense of gratitude. I know now why I was not allowed to walk down those alternate paths. And I am excited to see where this road less taken will lead to.
So now I walk with eyes focused on the prize ahead. What might have beens no longer distract me. I’m back on track.
2 AM and she calls me ’cause I’m still awake,
“Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don’t love him. Winter just wasn’t my season”
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You’re all here for the very same reason
‘Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe… just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
“Just a day” he said down to the flask in his fist,
“Ain’t been sober, since maybe October of last year.”
Here in town you can tell he’s been down for a while,
But, my God, it’s so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I’ll just sing about it.
Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe… just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
There’s a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout ’cause you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out
And these mistakes you’ve made, you’ll just make them again
If you only try turning around.
2 AM and I’m still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to
But you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.
Aking mundo, ihimlay ang pagal mong katawan
Sa duyan ng kalawakan…
In English, the title of this blog post translates to: A lullaby in a storm, inspired by Buklod’s song Oyayi sa Mundo. I heard its familiar, melancholic guitar intro as I was watching the news a few minutes ago. All week I had been thinking of a song for the moment to help me articulate my thoughts about Ondoy and its aftermath. But the sheer barrage of dire news, panic-filled online posts, and the experience of being in one of the worst hit areas drove all the music from my head.
My family and I were spared from the worst of the storm. Okay, my dad is bewailing the flooring of his car which got soaked in floodwaters, but it still works so that’s a minor problem. Soon, the common sense of staying in the comfort and safety of home was defeated by the text messages and news pouring in. Of how numerous friends spent the weekend on their rooftops or cleaning up after waist to chest deep floods ruined their property. Of people walking for hours just to fetch loved ones stranded in the monstrous traffic jams. Of the urgent need for supplies, volunteers, and rescue for the people affected by Ondoy. So, over loud parental protests, out I went.
Hayaang maghilom ang mga sugat sa iyong dibdib
Na likha ng mga tao…
A wounded earth, a wounded people. These words echoed in my head as I watched the almost constant stream of news broadcasts on TV. They also rung true when we went to Marikina last Tuesday to distribute relief goods and check on a close friend. Three days after the storm, mud coated every surface, while the dust-filled air made everything look sepia. The piles of trash and debris gave a forlorn look to a city that prided itself on being the cleanest in NCR. And despite my allergies, I could detect the faint, cloying smell of dead things in the air.
At itigil ng isang saglit ang iyong paggalaw…
I now associate Ondoy with the lost weekend. Events were cancelled that Saturday and Sunday because 80% of the metropolis was inundated. The whole city literally stopped in its tracks, unprepared for a month’s worth of rain coming down in less than a day. In that pause, 300 lives were lost as well as the foolish security of “that will never happen here.” And it also broke through the general apathy of my generation; as a friend put it in her twit:It took a storm for most of us to get over ourselves. I seriously felt ashamed. The world never runs out of people who need our help.
And help we did. Students did not treat the week long suspension of classes as a holiday, but went en masse to relief centers to help pack goods. Professionals went there as well after work hours and gave from their end of the month salary. Even those affected directly by the floods volunteered. The news was not just filled with destruction, but with stories of heroism, of neighbor helping neighbor, of communities taking care of not just their own but others as well. Indeed, people did not just give generously, but gave of themselves until it hurt.
Pagkat sa muli mong pag-inog ay may bago nang buhay…
We are a nation used to storms and all forms of natural (and sadly, man-made) disasters. There are numerous lessons that we have yet to learn and plenty of blame to go around. In Ondoy’s wake, I am thankful that we still have these: the ability to smile in adversity, a bayanihan spirit, the faith to respond in prayer, and hope unshaken.