Dear Grade 11




Dear Grade 11,
I will tell you a secret. In each of those sessions I spent with you I did not exactly plan on what I would share to you. All the words that came out of my mouth came out as water does from a spring. Like one discovers happily in the search of that elusive liquid after hours of trekking through a forest or desert, if you will. Every time I enter the room the energy from your bodies and minds are ever-changing. Ever fluid. Ever flowing. And if there is anything I have ever learned from the will of the Universe, it is to allow myself to be drawn to the strength of the current. Each of you is a force to be reckoned with. Each of you are beautiful in your own way. Each of you brilliant in your own spirit. And as I listened and embraced your energy, the words flowed.
 My deepest intention was to let you see what you already have inside of you-- the ability to be awakened to your truest nature that can only illuminate all your darkest corners. I do not know how deep my intention is manifested in each of you. But I have felt your gratitude and  have sensed your longing for more. And this for me is enough. Because isn't it true that love, the greatest energy of all, is an act of gratitude and a yearning for more of anything that allows us to shed all those layers of fear to reveal the greatest truth of all?

As you gave me the beautiful bouquet of pink roses, dear ones, I remember Antoine de Saint-Exupéry words from my favorite book of all time, The Little Prince--
"But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass, since she's the one I sheltered behind the screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three butterflies). Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's my rose."
Know full well that you all are my roses. Know too that in the forest or desert of your individual journeys, what makes it worth it is  the truth that somewhere it hides a spring or a well. You only need to listen to the Universe of your heart, the tug from your insides and walk in love always. And when you do, no matter what you have planned or not planned, water will gush forth and overflow, like watefr from a spring.
Love and Light,
M' Bea

P. S. Lami-a's Pork Steak. Ug karon pa ko ka kaon ug fried rice with Chicharon. 😁



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For the Love of Stories

Image
The sun is high. A warm breeze fills the air. Sparse tufts of clouds are spread throughout the sky.  It is going to be a beautiful day. I just know it. It is the day of the Hi Sandangaw, A Waray Tale storybook launch. As I alight our vehicle, green and silver balloons intertwined set in front of the glass door entrance complete with hanging vines creating a forest-like entry into the venue greet me along with lively chirpings of "Maupay na hapon!" from our Grade 11 student volunteers. As I enter, Hi Sandangaw stands alone on a wooden book stand beside an arrangement of flowers on the registration table. Amina, Melo and Kalipay are spread out as well. I step inside the room and am greeted by this expanse of white light emanating across the entire space. I would like to believe this is the light of good energy one great story brings. Banig is laid out on the floor complete with throw pillows and a bean bag. In the small stage are two potted bamboo plants on both ends. An anima
Read more

Stretching After Laundry

Image
Years ago, a friend who owned a Gowns-for-Rent boutique in our city and other cities proposed to me that I be one of her models for their billboard ad featuring women of various kinds of strength. At that time, I was well immersed in the world of CrossFit. I was 35 at that time and had been the fittest in my entire life at that point. She had this concept of how she wanted to present a juxtaposition of this perception of society's yardstick of femininity and strength. I marveled at her idea. But I was clearly unsure of myself and other considerations living in a small city where everyone knew everyone, and everyone talked about everyone as if they truly knew everyone and having your face plastered on a tarpaulin 24/7 apparently was the dealbreaker. As much as I love to share my thoughts on social media through poetry and essays, my image presented to the public as a model was a totally different beast altogether. She told me in her very caring and sensitive manner that she understo
Read more

The Most Important Question of All

Image
The man stood tall and dignified at the rostrum. Microphone on his right hand, he spoke to us with a sense of honesty and intimacy that can only be described as if there were only five people in the room. As he said the last few lines, there was an unmistakable break in his voice, a holding in of air.  And as he gazed at us, his eyes glistened with emotion. Then applause broke. Inspiration . I tried to explain this concept to our 2nd Graders as I told them Christina Newhard's story of a girl named Amina who could not weave a story in her loom. She tried to find inspiration in the mountains and the sea but still could not find it. And so she went about in the city to find it. "What does inspiration mean?" the students asked me. The closest two words I could share with them that their 7-year-old minds could understand, were "imagination" and "dreams".  Slowly, we  somehow made a connection of how imagination and dreams allowed us to create some
Read more