Hear Ye!

18 April 2013

I feel like my school girl self again. I was happy and totally enjoying myself even when I was wrong so many times. I thought I could surely do well with admin work than my current job. Even when the BSPH summa cum laude standing student was there during the interview and she was turned down in favor of two others who were more, reality wise, adept at being vocal, I knew that it was a battle of guts. This was a battle of ideas and impositions. They were teaching us big time about what needs to be done, on what we should be doing. 

Prayers were doing me good. I will definitely see Grace again soon. She would be the voice that makes me hear the voice of truth better. We will be together again and I will be replenished by human companionship.

For so long I have been reticent not by choice but by force. I had to stay quiet. Talking wasn’t simply a utility or our means for legalistic and technical connection. It is a bond of truth and notoriety. Whether it be used for good or bad, talking, even when you know no one’s listening, is a therapy of sorts. Shrinks earn their living by the afflictions of us lesser humans who at the moment of therapy appear not as humans but merely test subjects.

How I wish the pace of my life was wholly dictated by me; not under the mercy and whim of somebody else. The workplace was teaching me one thing – that I had to fight and that I have to use my voice. We would talk easily and lightly and converse over a cup of brewing tensions and heated passions. The undercurrent of tensions is high wire enough that I know how it is to look at peoples’ faces and know how mine would look while watching someone hanging in a trapeze exhibition except that the circus performer knew exactly what to do and how to make it perilously safe. I was walking without training of sorts. And the high wire wasn’t only taut wire. It was electrocuted wire, shocking me at each step. I burned out far too early and I was told more than once that I would age fast. Let me. Aging fast meant dying faster. I cherish death without abhorring life.

I feel it in my veins that I was someone who didn’t love winning. I was someone who didn’t want to lose. Grace was wonderful to point out to me and to detect that I was feeling as if I was never doing anything good or that I was not doing enough. She’s right. Maybe based from her experience or maybe because of her discernment. How will I know? It’s alright with me even if I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to answer all the questions there is in life.

I was enjoying myself, basking in the pressures of work without developing a headache. My headaches are stress-induced ones and the only way to counteract these tensions, as I was told by too many people already, was to not think about work as much as I did to the point that even if it’s the only thing I’m thinking of, I’m not doing it right. The mind works dreadfully amazing, superior but at the mercy of hormones.  Fight or flight impulses were this primitive and this guttural. Unhealthy thinking causes your brain to work faultily.

I am trying to strike a healthy work-life balance. And that meant seeing people and actually communicating with them. So what I did today, since no one speaks to me constantly in amounts of speech I wanted to have, was to find actively people to talk to. I used my Facebook account for an hour and had an hour and a half’s worth of phone calls. Only when I am inspired and at peace would my mind stop fretting like a dancing bean. Peace was something no money could buy. I will not let anyone rob me of it. I will preserve it better than pickles or holiday fruit cake.

Let me blog and hopefully my blog would be my mouthpiece where no one would censure me and where I would most feel free. This is my channel of freedom, the kingdom of my thoughts where what I say never was wrong especially since no one comments. No comments or commendations. A life like that was what I wanted to live. But I see clearly that that life would fall. A life like that would not progress at all. It will remain at that same level. If people were to live like that where everyone did as they desired, wouldn’t that be anarchy? 

A comfort zone and a zone of conquest are not named as such for nothing. In your comfort zone, you need not expend extra efforts because there you are at ease. In your zone of conquest, you really have to prepare, train and strategize, not knowing what’s out there to come and get you.