SEVEN DEGREES

Seven degrees. Sun setting on my east.
On my left, a single row of trees
That stand sturdily
Amidst the chill of year's end.

They look down at me. Down. At me.
They utter narry a word,
But their glances pierce heavily
Through my thick winter wardrobe.

I look back. I stare back.
Can a tree still be a "tree"
When its leaves are no more?

What good are you, then,
When you fail to give me shade?
How can you stand up so proud
When you do nothing,
But sleep and wait for spring?

But then, birds still cling onto you.
Squirrels still find your dry branches
Playground for their silly games.
Insects still find warmth
In your cold, empty trunks.

Stop. Stop looking at me
Like I can do better.
I have not gone to this place
In the past two summers.

Today, every green from you was shed.
Not a single dangling leaf can I see
From this cold wooden bench where I sit.
I am taken aback.
I have never seen you like this before.
But, have I ever "seen" you before?

The winter bared to me a part of you
That I will, perhaps,
Never would be able to fathom.
For I am merely a random visitor
Who happened to sit beside you today.
For I am just like everybody else
Who can see your beauty
Even when all life is shed. #

ENDURING SEASONS

It's officially Autumn, and it started to get cold this side of the world. Tonight the temperature's around 10 degrees Celsius; that's not by far the worst as I woke up to a 4 degrees a couple of weeks ago, but for someone who grew up in the Asian tropics, this is starting to kill me. Or at least, my focus. If there's one thing that this weather has done bad to me, it's distracting me fully. But I have to go on. There's no other way but for me to get up and get going. As long as I put enough layers of clothing I know I'd be fine anyway.

This afternoon I decided to pop out of my dorm for a pretty little picnic that the seniors prepared for new students. Yes, a "pretty" picnic is how you call an event where they basically give you a nice welcome before the nightmares start. And a "welcome" is a shorter word for "tips to lessen the agony" or "warnings for freshies taking economics".

My favorite shortcut to the university is the sports ground, comprised of a small running track and a couple of tennis and beach volleyball courts. It has been raining the whole morning, and now I realize that Autumn only looks pretty with the orange leaves, but not the wet ground. On my way today it was very noticeable how the trees along the sports ground started turning yellow in a matter of days, with their leaves turning yellow to orange, like a poetic sunset, before they finally fall to the ground. The whole Autumn season here is pretty short, from mid-September through November. While I was looking up the trees, I felt like telling them, "the next couple of  months will probably be just enough for your leaves to completely shed off before winter."

But as I stepped and walked past the orange leaves on the ground, I found myself asking, "Were the trees designed to endure the months that they can only stand Autumn, or was Autumn designed to be that short until a time that trees can only stand?" Which one was made for what?

In a number of times we find ourselves in the middle of something difficult. Like trees, we turn to a color which people don't normally see the whole year round. Further, we shed things from ourselves --- our resources, our happiness, and our strength. We try to endure it to a certain stretch, but when all is exhausted, we finally ask if it can just be taken away from us.

I just realized that the Season is very wise, and He sees what the trees are going through. He knows when the they're experiencing extreme cold. He knows when they've had enough shedding. But He, too, knows that He can't stop until such time that the tree has shed off from it's last earthly leaf. He even knows that after the trees have been stripped off of all its leaves, it's going to have to endure more months of colder weather in Winter, so there's not much of a point in stopping the challenge in Autumn. Why? Because He knows that it would not be possible to bloom the most beautiful flowers in Spring if the trees don't shed off and endure that difficulty.

As I stepped and walked past the orange leaves on the ground, I thought maybe the answer to my question is, it's both. I felt like a tree shedding in Autumn, and I know there's still going to be a long Winter ahead of me. But God has designed me in such a way to help me endure these hurdles, and He designed these hurdles in such a way that I am sure to endure them. My favorite quote says, "God doesn't give you what you can't endure." It has always been a game of trust that I continue to fail on every day, but I'm happy to have heard His message through the beautiful leaves of Autumn today. #

'Do not fear or be dismayed because of this great multitude, for the battle is not yours but God's.'  --- 2 Chronicles 20:15

KATIPUNAN

Dalawang nakaraan ang bumabalik sa isipan.
Isa, noong nasa rurok ng kamusmusan.
Panahong unang makita ang "mundo",
       ang inaakalang kalawakan.
Panay umaga, panay hapon.
Sa aking isip isang agam-agam
       sa susunod na apat na taon.
Panay aklat, panay sabi-sabi.
Kailan ko makikita ang mundo
       para sa aking sarili?

Sa pagitan ng tatlong taon binaybay
       ang mas malawig na daan.
EDSA sa mas kilalang tawag ng karamihan.
Subalit sa biglang tawag ng "tadhana"
Akoy' dinalang muli sa dating kalsada.
Sa pagkakataong ito ibang "ako" ang napagdili-dili
Maliban sa edad, bitbit ko
       ang libong kaisipa't damdaming kinukubli.
Sa uma-umagang pakikibaka
       sa paghihintay at pagninilay
Umuuwi gabi-gabi sa parehong rutang
       tanging ilaw at busina ang karamay.
Minsang aambon, madalas ulan at baha
Sa napakaiksing panahon ang daang ito'y
       saksi sa lahat ng hinuha.

Sa umagang bitbit ko ang ligayang walang tungo
Gaya ng ilaw na itinutok sa langit, may pinagmumulan
       subalit walang dulo.
Sa gabing pasan ko ang lahat ng hapo
Nangangarap ng isang biyaheng
       matatapos sa iilang pulso.
Sa bawat oras, hindi gabi't hindi rin araw,
Na ako'y nakalutang sa isang balintataw
Nagmumuni-muni sa susunod na hakbang
Nakatitig sa malawak na luntiang lupaing
       sa harap nama'y puno ng harang.

Isang iglap, muling kinailangang magpaalam
Isang libo't isang tagpo ang tumakas sa aking agam-agam.
Hindi ko nagawang tignan ka sa huling pagkakataon.
Ang mga tulay na sinubok ng mahabang panahon
Ang mga posteng nagsisilbing gabay
Ang mga taong ipinaubaya na sa 'yo ang kanilang buhay.

Pa-Silangan, pabalik sa aking Kabataan.
Pa-Hilaga, patungo sa aking Kinabukasan.
Magkaroon kaya muli ng ikatlong pagtatagpo?
Akin na lamang ipinikit ang mga matang
       sa pagod ay sumuko.
Sino nga ba'ng makapagsasabi, aking kaibigan?
Marahil ang butihing Hangin, kung ito'y muling aayon
       sa Kanyang kalooban. #

Andreo Bongco Photography

RESISTING RESISTANCE

I was sitting on my bedside quietly, holding my plane ticket which says departure is at 11am at Terminal 1. I jumped to my still unlocked luggage, and turned to the laundry where I'm still washing and forcibly drying a couple of clothes that I know I have to bring with me. Outside of my room, mom and dad didn't look ready either. It's almost 9am. We got into the car. Along the way I realize I forgot my ticket and passport at home. No choice but to go back the tracks of the horrible EDSA traffic. It's almost 10:30 and at this point I know I'm definitely going to miss my flight. Ironically, I am not worried at all. Suddenly, my mobile phone alarms. It's 5 in the morning. I'm alone in my room, in Germany, and it has been almost two weeks now. And I have been resistant so far.

I guess it's but natural to compare old things and habits when you get a chance to see new places. When I first came here, it was just nice to see that airports and train stations were clean, buses come and go on time, streets are safe to walk, cars make a full stop for crossing pedestrians, water everywhere is safe to drink, prices of goods are reasonable, and the environment is generally peaceful. Before I left though, one of my friends said, "Give yourself a week to adjust, then you'll see." Indeed but unconsciously, I started missing things little by little. I missed having to wake up early to get rid of traffic, working at 2 in the morning, cooking for the family, preparing for Households, getting scared of going home late, Sunday mass, UP and jeepney rides, Tumana, Technohub, Megamall --- everything and everybody I've been used to in the past years just come flashing back in my head every now and then. I'm a very nostalgic person, and when I say "I miss" something, it means missing the feeling that comes with that beautiful memory. So yes, this is the very reason why I sometimes intentionally get up before dawn here --- because I wanted to get in touch and chat with people I am familiar with back home.

Bit by bit, too, I started to dislike two facts of life here. One, that everything's just too convenient. For someone who grew up in the third world, hardship is a part of life; and it makes me uncomfortable how comfortable things and people are here. So what are people actually living for? Second, that I'm doing things here for me alone. It was very timely though that around the same time that I'm feeling this, Pao, one of my former officemates, told me, "Ate remember, hindi lang yan para sa sarili mo." In a snap I was reminded. That line made perfect sense. Indeed, I have to accept the fact that everything I do here is part of the dream I wanted to achieve. I know what I am fighting for, but I cannot choose the battles that can come with it. In the littlest of things, my patience, endurance and faith will be tested, and I'm going to have to lose part of the familiar along the way.

I'm not yet in the verge of homesickness. I might be missing things, but I realize today that I'm happy. I'm happy not because I'm away from thousands of my country's third world problems, but because I realize that I was actually very happy with my life back at home. In fact it is now that I appreciate coming from a third world even more. It may not be a first world life that I live, but it's a life I lived with people, for people, with love, and for love. And I am proud to say today and every single day that my country is beautiful, and so are my people. Those are the very things that's going to keep me for now.

Today, another week has passed. Although the first week has excruciatingly been slow, this one went by pretty fast. So maybe two years won't be so long after all. I would just need to remind myself to resist the feeling of resistance more often. And I would be needing your prayers more often too. #

PICKING UP

Man, has it been a while.

When it has been months since your last post, there's no other way to start all over but to mull over your random thoughts. Yep, that's the sign of a true fake writer. For real.

So people thought that I went on a writing hiatus. Was I keeping myself in the corner, contemplating on the next big thing to write about, like a rock star hiding away on the outskirts of Memphis, listening to the Mississippi with pen and paper on hand? Not true --- I simply could not do it the past months. Lack of inspiration? Too cliche. Preoccupied? Maybe. Well let's just say I have been that lazy that I didn't even lift a finger to type you a short paragraph. Yep, "lazy" is indeed the perfect adjective.

Five months. I can't even keep up. What actually transpired? I knew there was a whole lot. What pains me though, is that I could not type them all now as they have just gone past in front of me. Like an unexpected cool wind that greets you on a hot summer noon --- five seconds, and that's it. Five months. The adventures perhaps could have been written somewhere in this blog. It could have been a narration of colors, of emotions. But none of it was ever written. It was regrettable, but at the same time it was not.

The past five months, I now realize, has been a time of significant silence. Incidentally, it has also been five months since I have muted myself on Facebook. For people who know me, I'm a one-line orator --- I speak my mind in one line, whether people like it or not, whether I build or destroy. But suddenly, what started off as a break from insanity eventually became a habit. My initial intention in deactivating my account was to focus on a last-chance project I've long been working on. I have been bothered with so much noise around news feed, tags, posts, and other social media what-nots, and I know that a distance from all these would definitely be handy.

And so it has been. The last-chance, by God's grace, has unexpectedly become a turnaround opportunity. I had to pay the price though, of course. Some friends thought I "un-friended" them. In many occasions I thought I was so out-of-date that I don't even know what's happening not only to friends but to my surroundings. I don't even know who's going to read this if this doesn't get posted in FB!!!

Still, I have not touched the log-in button. For one, I learned to challenge myself to make the effort to get to know people better not by looking at their profiles, but by taking a conscious effort to give time for a sweet talk. Informing myself on the latest news is another. I had to do a little trick though and create a second account for my Singles for Christ updates ---  I accepted no friends though, so that made me look all the more anti-social. It's not cool telling people you don't have FB, but being anti-social though makes you realize who your real "Friends" are. Believe me.

I have been silent most of my conscious life. I always thought that when you're a woman of few words, more silence would not mean anything anymore. But this period of silence has been the greatest and most humbling thus far. The noise has consumed me both ways --- inward and outward. Over time, we unconsciously become products of culture and the environment. As for me, I talked more and listened less. With silence, I learned to listen to only the most essential sources, and depend on the One source of all things essential.

I have accepted that I will be misunderstood a while more. But the journey is not over yet. At a point when I have started picking up the pieces, I know that a little more silence won't hurt. #