When Life Does Not Give You Answers, Do This

After three years, it all made sense now.

Finally, it was the day all casted votes shall be counted. My sister ran for the Treasurer position at the A.Y. 2016 – 2017 Student Council elections.

The votes were tallied and my sister received the unfortunate news. She fell short against her opponent with just five votes. My 17-year-old sister was devastated and could officially wear Stephen Curry’s jersey. She came home teary-eyed that day, found me in the kitchen; and I opened my arms wider than our refrigerator door. I hugged her like when I hug my bag when taking the public transportation.

I could have told her to stop crying over the spilled milk, but I knew better. There is no way around rejection, it has to be faced head-on. I know how no wise words could stop the bleeding. So, I just quietly hugged her as tight as I could.

We stood there at the kitchen for a couple of minutes until she let go. In that brief moment, I realized a purpose given to me three years ago.

Back in 2013, I applied to become an editor of our university’s student publication. I did not get the position and to make things worse, I already expected to bring home the bacon. To date, that is still the most painful setback in my life. I lost my confidence, burned bridges, and stopped writing. Nobody could have saved me from that hard fall; it was only rejection that met me down the pit. Every day I kept on asking, why me?

I worked hard to move on from that blackhole city. I repeatedly told myself, “Things happen for a reason.” But honestly, I hardly believed those words. I just took it as a mantra in order to maintain a positive outlook in life. You know what they say, fake it until you make it. Those words became my stairway to where I am right now.

That mantra never made as much sense as when I stood there comforting my sister. If our hugging moment at the kitchen was a theater show, a spotlight would have focused on me as I realized a purpose in my life. For the first time in three years, I am thankful I was rejected to become an editor. Because if I did not had to face that battle, I will not be able to stand by my sister and be her light and keeper. I now know why it was I.

Time unfolded how things do actually happen for a reason. Sometimes, that reason comes quite a little late in our lives but enlightenment definitely always arrives. Yes, it’s better late than never. Whatever weather we are currently braving, we have to continue having faith that everything will eventually fall into place.

I believe our deepest desires are always answered by our respective gods, in any which religion we belong. But answers are not always green lights because all gods know better than what we ask for. I was taught that there are three types of answers:

1. Yes, your desire will be given right here, right now.
2. Wait, not now. Your desire is your destiny but it will be provided at a perfect time.
3. No, your desire is not for you. Because something bigger and better is about to come.

In a way or another, we are and will be always provided with the best things in life. Just keep the faith, never let it leave you. Wear it like an armor.

Tidying

It has been a while, as always.
I have been meaning to share my KonMari experience but opportunity to creatively write has been scarce, as always.

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A year ago, I was in a coffee shop where I overheard a man say to someone who was reading, “Be careful with that book. You might end up throwing away all your things.” With that remark, I ended up faking my need to go to the restroom just so I can pass by the reading man’s table and take a peek at the book’s title. This is how I met “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” by Marie Kondo.

I read the book diligently. Taking every word seriously like it was a bible. And at some point, without any purpose of being blasphemous and just for the sake of using a strong description, I actually took the book as a bible. I obeyed everything that was written in there. If I were to review the literature, I’ll simply say the book lived up to its title.

It took me almost a week to tidy-up my belongings the KonMari way. As the saying goes, change does not happen overnight. In the end of my tidying up journey, I had 5 garbage bags full of things I am ready to discard. The journey was not easy but it was enjoyable and a little spiritual, in my unplugged opinion; but the end-point, it was the end-point that’s fascinating. I did felt like my life in general, not only my belongings, was in order. I breathe heaven’s air after the KonMari journey.

The book easily became my favorite next to Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of a Tiger Mother.

 

One of my two garbage bags full of things ready to discard.

Two weeks ago, I did myself a favor and KonMari-style tidied up of my things. It was my second time since last year and I did not expect to end up with two garbage bags after the process. This bag in the photo is filled with still-useful-things-but-I-am-not-using-anymore-so-I-will-place-them-in-a-garage-sale; while the other bag was filled with useless papers and tokens I once thought will be of purpose. The feeling after cleaning up was still the same, like breathing a little bit heaven.

This book opened my eyes on how putting things literally in order has an effect in our life. But more than that, my favorite newly discovered knowledge was about letting go.

 

I have never heard anyone say letting go is easy; simply because it is not. I believe letting go is a step to growing up, not moving on. I believe we are like trees, and letting go is the process of trimming down the dead branches in order to allow life to spring. I saw this perspective with the simple but clever KonMari way on how to store clothes. Try this: hang all your clothes with the hanger hook faced towards you. Then, every time you will use a certain clothing, hang it the opposite way. In that manner, you will be able to monitor the clothes you have not been wearing and anything that has not been used for at least a month is ready for discarding. Believe me, you will be surprised how many clothes eat up your closet space which could be of better use for storing new clothes that you can actually wear. Say goodbye to days of feeling you have nothing to wear while your closet is overflowing.

The process of letting go my belongings made me reflect how it is also possible to let go of dead weight in my life, which were in forms of relationships, contacts, vices, and even feelings. I realized that if I can discard a box of books (which I thought were my life), why can I not discard my useless anger or hate for someone? Oh I can; even without forgiving. Sometimes, we do not need to forgive in order to forget. We can let go and that’s just it.

The world is full of many great opportunities but we cannot attract positivity if we will not let go of the dead weight we buried so deep within us. How can we open our door to let the light in if it is obstructed by so much clutter?

Poached

Poached egg yesterday, June 2

I love eggs! In all forms and ways it can be cooked, I love eggs. Soft yolk, in particular, makes my day. So, whenever I dine in breakfast buffets which have “Eggs Station”, I always request for my favorite—poached.

Yesterday, I woke up craving for poached eggs but I neither have an egg station nor a chef in my house. There on my bed, I lied for some time thinking really hard how to satisfy my craving; I ended up watching a youtube video on how to make poached eggs. After the three minute video tutorial, I got up from my bed and exclaimed, “I can do this.”

I went to the kitchen and diligently did every step from the video tutorial but my first poached egg was a failure.

Today, I woke up excited to give egg-poaching another try. I re-watched the video tutorial and gave more attention to every detail and when it was my turn to execute the steps, I focused like a frustrated tailor slipping a thread through the needle’s hole.

Poached egg today, June 3

My second attempt to poach an egg was far better than my first. But I know there is still room for improvement so I will continue to poach my way to the perfect egg.

Cheers to this new challenge I’ve got! Here’s to poaching, one egg at a time.

Comeback

Yesterday, I felt like I could write for myself again. I just felt it.

So, I got up and did my usual drill; dressed up, went to a coffee shop, put on my earphones, played sad songs, opened my notebook, and finally, stared at my notebook. Believe me, this was how I did my sappy writings back then.

I sat still at the coffee shop while listening to my music with little whispers and buzz from the outside noise. I waited for the words to come because they just usually do when and after the sad songs have done their part of stirring my emotions from my veins to my fingertips.

I sat still for a longer while.

An hour has passed and all I got was a cold cup of coffee.

Half an hour more, I surrendered. I said fuck it. I cannot write anymore.

That moment yesterday was one of my many fears. I did not want to be the star who lost her light, I did not want to be the Tinkerbell who lost her Pixie dust, I did not want to be the fire who lost her blaze.

I did not want to be the someone who got lost in the process of finding her place in the universe.

I sipped my cold coffee and realized how I just became all of that I did not want to be. But I did not want to be too hard on myself, so I sipped a little more and told myself that I may have become something more.

I became a survivor of the daily tsunamis that life fondly throws.

This is me not yet giving up on myself, on writing for myself to be exact.

After graduation, Into the blue

Today, I can write the worst lines because that is how I feel about myself. Well, not my whole but a good significant part.

I dread the nature of my work.

I thought that at the moment I start earning, I can ignore the description of whatever I do for a living. (Not that my work is something illegal) But I was wrong. I thought that movie lines on hating work was only applicable on big screens, I never understood those lines until now.

One’s work is one’s character, I now learned. And it is important to love your job not because we try to be ideal or optimistic but because it is our lifeline; more than financial, it is our emotional and mental lifeline.

The “real world” that they told us back in the university is more like Wonderland and we, the fresh graduates, are Alices. The reality is so real that my consciousness rejects it.

Working just to earn is like dating a guy for the wrong reasons; dating for his cash, car, and charm sounds so cool but at the end of the day when I lay down on my bed, the silence creeps in and it makes me hear within. There, I hear breaking, not of bones but of beliefs and suddenly, I realized that in me is an empty hole that needs filling and the worst part? I don’t know how to fill it. Because the university had no syllabus for this kind of shit.

I don’t even know if this emptiness has a rim. Am I going to quit and find a different path? What  if something great is bound to happen if I hold on? What if holding on means letting go of my ideals and morals? And as I lose my ideals, I lose my self.

It is at this moment that I wish I could turn back time and stay in college a little longer to try to figure out a concrete plan on how handle this deep drama on metamorphosis of being an adult.