Day by day

28 September 2013

If I could subdue my day as if it were an animal, we would both be on the arena, I would stare at it and it would stare back. My gaze would not flinch and it will hold its eyes on me. By the time the sun descends from its perch on our zenith, my day has transformed into a cat and we would be sitting side by side, a comfortable but familiar gap bridging our nearness. Both of us transfix our gaze on the traversing sun, knowing fully that our togetherness is marked by the setting of this heat ball on the horizon. What do we do but cherish the only period when I was myself as I was meant to be when we meet and that my day, in the form of the cat, was the cat that would sit by my side and convene with me in silence. We both know that both of us, as we were together, would be gone forever. What would prevail is thankfulness that such a moment transpired, that we, as we were, coincided in this world of ineffable possibilities. Today was such the day when I knew my days could talk to me this way.

The days come by to present me who I am. And I embrace that truth that I may not be who I thought I am or that I may not end up who I thought I was going to be. Nothing’s certain in this life and while I’m tempted to append, more than death and taxes, without those, I am certain, the point’s been taken.

If I would recount all that had happened to me this week, it would not only be laborious but more so, redundant. My journal has contained lots of what has transpired as I had documented. I was not faithful however in my transcription of each day though at most times I feel as if I only existed to observe everything and try to capture all of them in words like the moment when Ma’am Bing and Ma’am Tiff were singing Chasing Pavements together. I haven’t missed what Ma’am Tiff meant when she said that getting the lyrics clear in my head but not singing because of shyness was of no use because unlike me, she, despite her being out of tune, she said, was singing out loud. I have my reasons. Those were clear to me and I have no compulsion to explain myself to her. I was more happy hearing them singing together than it would be if I were to sing with them. I do sing often and I have heard myself singing that song so many times, I have to set aside that time to hear other people sing the song.

Bothersome to me is the fact that without even consciously realizing, my attention was summoned by my intact but injured spatial cognition. Weekly, I get to bang myself on door posts or faucets because my mind has forgotten to orient my body away from these objects. These are stuff we do not think about, like an overwrite command which works on its own without us having to will it or conceptualize it. It simply happens that when we pass by openings, we walk through the spaces and not merge ourselves face to face walls then wonder why we haven’t gone to the other side. They just happen. And I am losing this auto function. Why?

Universal Recordbook

21 September 2013

I want to spend this day writing writing writing. Recording how I felt at this and that time. What certain things bring to mind and how shrewd most people were. As I have written most of the other days on my journal, I would write now, those that I have missed retelling. I would’ve wanted to describe in detail the world as I saw it. The things I actually saw and what thoughts they illicit from me. That was the hard part there. I could not put into record everything - what I heard and how delicious it was for me like how I enjoyed Miley’s Wrecking Ball playing on the radio because it was art. She was expressing her emotions and I visualized from the words and the sound, the fervor by which she sang it, that she was on the fields as the sun was just rising, the blades of green grass which touched her fingers were still wet with dew. She had her Hannah Montana hair on twin braids, falling on the blue  blouse concealeing her shoulder blades. I could only see her from the back, as if I was walking behind her a comfortable distance away. How selfish my intentions were for sharing this. Introspection revealed that I wanted to share this thought with someone, with anyone, because I wanted someone to see it exactly as I did and feel exactly the same way as I did. The least I demanded from the person I shared it with was energized agreement. What a bummer! I wanted another person to project what I was on her/himself. And so was I selfish.

I have all this thoughts but I don’t have anyone to share it with. Actually I am picky with whom I would share these matters with. So they are all there in my mind. I stay quiet and think now is not the appropriate time to give this remark. It doesn’t match the mood and it won’t be a hit. This extra cautiousness just shuts me up. If they let me talk, I may not shut up. I talked with Nica that way as I was matching her with Sir Mark. Wahaha! Without him even knowing Nica’s name, Nica knows a lot about him. She just keeps on asking about him. Isn’t that telltale of where her interests lie? So though she keeps on denying, I know. She must only be denying it for the sake of herself. The denial was mostly for herself; she couldn’t accept it when no one would be fooled by this denial.  I remember how she cuts me off when I was telling her the story of my day. I must have gotten too specific and into detail, she got bored with the story. That’s a communication tip for me. Also, my face is too transparent. Must be that it’s strong. Even until the tips of my hair, I am a story teller. I will be careful. Right now I am a mix of rawness and inspired sophistication. I hope it makes other people curious. It wouldn’t be fair if it was only I who was curious about others.

I read into everything, trying to ascribe meanings to everything. There was no and so it was for me. Some I had to hold on to until I got it, some I had to simply let go. What I had no skills about was to decide where an interest, a curiosity should go from the options there were. What was my priority? I had none so my mixed messages (words and body language) tire people out. Rare is the person in my present world sphere who loves challenges. (Paul maybe, because he finds work challenging. But even so, I may confuse him and he doesn’t care about this a bit.)

At times, I indulge in my out of body experiences. I try to see my daily life from the perspective of an observer; I was seeing myself as I was doing things.  At that point with Nica, I was too pre-occupied with myself. What mattered to me was hearing myself talk. I can’t even remember hearing myself talk. I was simply talking I forgot to listen to myself and to her. When conversation becomes a self exploit, those we talk to get bored. When our conversation partner starts to feel unimportant or was not made to feel special, they leave.

I also thought that God gave me a morsel of imagination. He also bestowed me potential for faith. Why shouldn’t I use both for my country? The stagnation, discontent, hopelessness, lavish authority and insecure selfishness reek - a malingering odor in an atmosphere where bahala na wafts. Here, minding oneself meant providing oneself with indulgence. I might call these assaults as I step out of the bus to a sidewalk of pressed feces and encounter tired faces, lost faces, defensive faces. If I let these images get to me, I might have left this country for good. If Filipino people were serious about anything, we were serious with not getting serious. I could imagine my country with dignified people, not a country where people were out for show with the hopes of getting a jacket and 5,000 for looking good, being attractive or being entertaining. We would have a state of living where we inspire respect and not only project, but radiate humility. By simply hoping, and minding my world, God will make my faith grow. It no longer matters to me what You make me do. There are no critical and menial tasks. They are all Your trust which we are to respond to.

The Right Write

14 September 2013

Sam just said, "Ate, you no longer write in your blog anymore."

Just why didn't I?

I get the feel of everything that needs to be done. It's clear to me now like the child in the story book that keeping tons of cooked food doesn't mean you're stocked up for a year because they rot. I have to exert effort if I want to get anything accomplished and that doing things once doesn't mean you won't have to do it again. I have to spend to learn - be it time, money, strength and emotions. I HAVE TO WORK. And so should OCD be left out - Obssessive Comparing Disorder as http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life/7-cures-your-quarter-life-crisis dubbed.

Go on slowly. Little by little you'll get there! Don't rush and don't despair.

Don't know myself yet? Yes. That's good. I have a whole lifetime to battle with and come to terms with myself.

In my world, it doesn’t snow, and I have no driveway that needs snow shoveling.

14 September

In this season of questions, they pile higher than my laundry pile. I shovel them out, much like snow out of the driveway. In my world, it doesn’t snow, and I have no driveway that needs snow shoveling.

Quarter-life crisis. Is this what they call this now? I’m so glad not everyone gets to this point all at the same time. What would be of this world if it did? You are in the best condition in life to do this and that and you are in the position other people would have wanted to be in. I know. Sadly it ends there in I know because all of me resists understanding and it ends up as an I know.

I say I walk in darkness. I must be wrong because the light bulbs were focused to near and to close for me to mistake brightness as pitch black. A lot of signs were on my way. Alarmingly plenty.

How could I have not seen? But why am I still unaffected? My mom speaks to me of her conversation with my dad, “Kinikilig pa rin ako kapag kasama ko si daddy.” Then she tells me he confirms he still feels the same. My parents have something to knock the socks off my hopelessness. How I’ve always been asking what there is to work for when everything is so empty and how it will be for nothing. There, I have been feeding and living off something children would’ve wanted their parents to have. It’s not an and they lived happy ever after; it’s so much more that they love each other for.  I have it. Am I not it?

They’re like kids still, both of them, tinkering on something exciting, their new projects and all. It’s shattering. I want to ask them, “Do you know where you should go?” but I’d rather not know. I want to keep them my reliable parents, conniving with them in keeping their childish magic interwoven, the gold thread perceptible only if we look closer.

Reclaiming

4 August 2013

I want to become myself again. When will I become myself again? The self I knew of before was more stable and self-sufficient. Now all I do is contradict and question myself and give in to the indulgence of sleep. That was what I did last week but this week it might just all change. I am not giving up on myself now even if I fall asleep in the middle of studying though I should really be reviewing again on Microbiology as part of my job. I have to somehow be adequately knowledgeable of this. Let me read on and study and learn instead of restricting myself and giving in to the call of rest. Let me work beyond my limits instead of simply going home to sleep. Make me bold in the right place Lord and let me entrust You with everything.

All that I plan to do this week, I have not done a single thing! Why o why?

ECG is just as it's meant to be, a visualization of life. It will only get still when you're dead.

4 August 2013

Monday: Last week, I had fun trying on my clothes. I am like some little girl trying on her mother’s wardrobe when I actually own them already. I am grateful for that moment of unadulterated bliss though it was at the expense of my microbiology review.

Tuesday: NRL-BED (National Reference Laboratory – Bacterial Enteric Diseases) received outbreak samples yesterday. Tons of work to do yesterday and where was I? So that day, I worked on samples and had my first taste of chlorophyll preserved Bangkok guavas. Yum! I was going on okay in Bench A.

Wednesday: Alternately having to change apparel for the BSC-2 (Biosafety Cabinet 2) samples got me tired. If the week before, I was having it slow and easy, now, all of them are coming at me, rushing me to learn everything or maybe that’s only how I perceived it.

Thursday: Confined to Bench A. Barely helped with BED but Ma’am Jo helped me big time.

Friday: I’m sure I missed up the whole shebang. I kept the CCDA plate in the CO2 incubator instead of putting it in the candle jar. I forgot the TCBS and SS direct plates for the stool sample. I forgot to prepare a smear for a sample. I taught the trainees assigned to Bench A wrong procedures on receiving specimens when I could have called on senior people to help. Ugh! Regardless of all those faux pas which could have cost me the favor of others in DOM, I’ll assume myself stronger now. Let me not melt easily on the heat of the spotlight. I also received my own manual.

Saturday: Cleaning and laundry day where again, the polarities are tugging on the reins one after the other; I have to control them when they are acting to my detriment. I can’t keep still! Oh Oh! But I got to watch Ice Age 4 with Sam.

Throughout the entire work week, dad was here, cooking us meals and buying us stuff. All I do is worry and I’m not even good at it. So, instead, I will pray. When I am troubled and plagued, I will pray and thank the Lord. I told Him before that I would be of praise whatever comes. I will. Still. And I know that when I do, it is not because You willed me to.

Vigilance

28 July 2013

Dad rushed to get back to Calapan early Friday morning. He was to meet with ninong and while he was away, my wallet was stolen from me. I went blank again. Amazingly, I did not stress out on this.

After a long time, I felt absolutely on track, my confidence went up yesterday when I was ailing in my prayer, “Then, let me lose all confidence in myself if I would gain faith in You.” I was happy, like I’ve never been for ages. Just when I was at this state of mind, my wallet, the wallet Czelene gave me, the one which contains all my IDs, ATM cards and membership cards had been stolen. And I was like, “I lost it.” What was that, simply shock? It would have been more normal if I cried or if I was predominantly angry because I’ve lost a valuable item but what I have felt is acceptance. There was dismay at my negligence but the predominant feeling was acceptance. If only I was alert enough, it would not have had happened. Then I remembered how I didn’t have any intention at all to go where the wallet was fished out of my bag. It’s as if it was really meant to happen. I’m feeling I’m bumming and being irresponsible again. Help me out of this Lord!