I will be a living testament that people can live with pain and still be happy.
To live is to hurt and to hurt is to live. And that is completely fine.
Four months out of the dark days, I feel like walking on an old, wooden bridge, careful with every step and aware that I could fall off and into the abyss again where there is only confusion and victim-mindedness. A kind of darkness that wraps like a bubble where the only source of hope is optimism and matter-of-fact knowledge that everything will pass, like anything else.
The Universe led me to this municipality, Liloan, with its tagline Live.Love.Liloan. Oh! I almost forgot that it birthed me here. I remember travelling to the countryside and breathing deep into my lungs when I see province-living. Now I’m convinced that I’ve been called here.
The past four months have been quiet and simple, with a lot of smiles to give, friends to make, unarmed with my big ideals. Last night I missed those big intelligent/culture/big-picture talks, but as soon as I read economic/political/progress discussions, I was a kermit retracting to its shell. Do you remember my post Living a Monk’s Life? I wanted such kind of detachment and never knew it was possible in the social world.
But tadah! What makes this downfall and restoration sweet is a new strength gained from knowing thy weaknesses and accepting thy human flaws. Maybe Fergie’s song is for me, “The love bug crawls right back up, bites me and I’m back.”
So I guess I’m just gonna cross them bridges and spooky trees. The Universe always covers my ass anyway. Trust. Live. Love. Liloan.
**I feel sorry that I get back to blogging at long intervals. Writing this piece felt like the first day of work especially with the new WordPress layout. How long has it been?
I’ve recently come back from Cebu to spend some time with my parents, before finally living a parentless life. I’m not really alone and this is not the first time, but adult life is dawning on me.
I’ve been on vacation-mode practically for several months now, pretending to be a freelancer (ooooops, employers might see this!). But seriously, life has been difficult since I quit Organika. Not because it’s too challenging, but because it’s empty. Life seemed to have meaning then.
Trech is also now in Germany, taking pictures around town (which means I’m almost friendless and feeling left behind). We dreamed together that we would go to Europe, it’s amazing that it’s now true for her!
I remember our conversation about parenthood and self-esteem. She said, “There are two ways of raising a child. On one end is mine, and on the other end is yours.” One gets amazing confidence, feels that she deserves the best, that she’s special and loved by the universe. The other kid wonders why somebody would love her, choose her, and think that she has to work for everything she’d have.
What’s the better way of raising a child? One may be glowing with confidence, but she may be easily broken. One may be doubtful, but she may become very strong, very creative. What’s the better way of raising a child? They will both face challenges that will make them cry. Their limits, only they will know.
However we may be raised, or however we may have raised our children, I guess we just have to remember that this is our life story and no one can tell us if it’s going the wrong way. Just keep moving.