Siargao

Throw caution to the wind. The Universe will answer for as long as your heart is clear and soul resolute. She will move you to places you only dreamed of. My experience in Siargao for half a fortnight has been filled with awakening, revelation and a stripping away of the unnecessary and a cloaking of what is.  And for this I am eternally grateful. While I believe that each place has its own beauty and soul, at the end of every experience, it is always whether or not it speaks to one's spirit. 

The morning, quiet.
Their voices, quiet.
Their dog, quieter.
One dances in the corner.
And I am just waking up.

  October 5th 2017

Lotus Shores

   

October 5 was Harvest moon. October, the changing of the seasons, the dying, changing, transitions. I was born in the middle of October. And I wonder why most of my life is spent on "in-betweens", neither here nor there, floating, floating like a runaway kite on a full moon night.

Harvest

Mouth closed
Ears not
Birds talk
Insects sing
Empty your self
Hands to the sky
Feet on grass

The moon is full

So is your heart.

  

Photo: A hidden pathway located along Tourism road

 

I go around the places Siargao is famous for. Yet I tell myself constantly, "Look for the ordinary. Look for the mundane. Look for the simple. Or else just look at everything with your own eyes and let it pass through you. You are not a vessel. You are a sieve. Remember nothing is permanent. Everything evolves. Including insight. Most especially this."

Here I am at Kermit where I seek haven from the heat of walking along Tourism Road. Along the way, I meet a Dabawenyo artist who is half Bagobo, who has been here for 6 years and set up the only art gallery here in General Luna. He tells me he wants to preserve and shine a light on his native heritage through his art. I also meet a woman from Calbayog, Samar who chose a livelihood to set up shop selling Lululemon overruns and whatnot from Divisoria. On the surface the former reveals a deeper motivation. The latter seemingly not so. And yet both necessary for survival. As I sit and write, I hear Chinese, Spanish, English, French. They too are seeking a life outside their own supposed homes. Perhaps the foreigners being who they are have no need for livelihood. Some came and stayed forever. Some are about to stay forever. And if one thinks about it, the reason they decided to stay as transients or otherwise is still all about survival.
 
A writing on the gray wall is painted white, "People in a hurry are still not allowed." My pen stops at this. Seeking a life. Seeking life. To survive. Seeking cannot be hurried. Survival while seemingly urgent and immediate,happens over time. Remembering I am a sieve, I breathe and take my time absorbing this.

Primitivo Art Gallery

Tourism Road, General Luna

Jong speaks of preserving his Bagobo heritage through his art and that he is mentoring several young artists in the island. He hails from Dabaw. Yet his feet have taken him here. He smiles easily as he speaks. His eyes are small but his heart large containing a whole cavern of stories, I am sure. 

There is so much to know and learn about the people who have enriched the spirit of the place. And though our conversation has seamlessly unraveled the most candid intentions and mapped out visions for the future, my time here is still too short. Perhaps this is what happens when you connect with people of overwhelming light and good energy. Time goes by in a blink of an eye. 

I have been to few places. And in each one, I marvel at every nook and cranny, explore the lives of the characters that build up the plot of the story of a particular place but first and foremost believe that the stories behind the facade of "must-see" spots are more important, more compelling than what the eye could see. 

I was born and grew up in a different island, built a life in another and now my own feet have taken me here in Siargao. A theme is common here, Jong and I, perhaps. A search for where we shall grow fully maybe? Or simply a finding of where we can finally cultivate our own light so others may be compelled to nurture their own.

 Yoga Dojo, Lotus Shores

Spaces, I thought I was full of them. Or at least I thought I knew what they meant.

Transmutation, our teacher said. It sounded painful and beautiful all at the same time. What it means I cannot say. I only know my body is responding. And my heart feels like it is being ripped apart.

There are no clocks here. Our teacher tells us to follow our breath, listen to our heartbeat. But I can't hear mine. Perhaps at the end of my stay, I shall hear it. Time in this place isn't guided by mechanical things. Time here is measured by the flow of one's breath, the beat of one's heart. At least I can do the former for now.

6th October 2017

Magpupungko Rock Pools

Pilar, Siargao 

The wind from the Pacific when I climbed Alto Peak Site D in March, I remember, was tremendous in all the ways my body could say.

Today I finally saw her face. What did she look like? A beauty that cannot be named. What did she sound like? Strong and commanding. What did she feel like? Solace, deep, deep solace. 

 I walked towards the pools. With each step I felt the touch of rubber on rocks, listened to the splash of seawater around my ankles, watched my legs go forth towards the beckoning sea. Foreign and local tourists swarmed about. I walked farther where it was quieter and there were no people. There the waves roared louder than ever resonating that of my heart-- "The wind from the pacific, now her face." I stood unmoving, grasped everything in memory. And then an image formed in my mind- a brush stroke forming a circle. Round and round. Full, whole. What does this mean? I do not know. Only that for the first time in a very long time I feel and know that I am worthy of this life.

                                                                    Boardwalk, Cloud 9


Sixty-nine thousand a day. The number of thoughts that run through our minds. And most of it are of the past or the future, repeating. Which brings us to question- Are we ever really here?

October 8, 2017
Sunday Morning, 6:15 am.
Cloud 9, Siargao Island  

I came to seek answers. I did not find them. Instead, I found the questions I needed to answer which were beautiful at first then became painful. And then became beautiful again.

What am I called to do in this life?

 

Boardwalk at High Noon

I read somewhere, "Hold company with yourself so sacred
that even when you are alone, you are whole."

I have never been uncomfortable with solitude or silence. But isolation is an entirely different thing. It is painful as it is necessary. If only to hold loved ones more dearly. If only to journey to the depths of darkness and chaos and finally come to a place where only light can enter. Where finally the meaning of kindness becomes real, where love takes a new form, a rebirth, if you will. And then you not only know what sacredness is, you become it. 

"Reeedy naka ma'am?" (Are you ready?) Peet asks as a wave is coming. More like a command than a question. I put both my palms near my chest, flex my toes inward. The wave pushes me and my board. "Barog!"(Stand!) my instructor shouts. And I do, rising to a squat then a bend, find my balance and I cruise. Peet hollers a loud and ecstatic, "Woohoo!" Thrice I rode the wave for what seemed like forever before crashing into the water willingly. He waves me over. I get my body back on the board and paddle back to him. He high fives me and says, "Nindot kaayo imo ride ba!" (That was an awesome ride!) and then "Sige pahulay sa Ma'am." (You can rest now.) And I do. Resting my chin on the board, my heart opens. The rock that has been forming in my throat has chipped away.

This is it, I tell myself. The energy from the ocean, the energy I drew from within, the losing of one's balance, the crashing into the water, the getting back up again, the control and the letting go. Transmutation, our teacher said. I think I finally know what it is. To break one's heart open, to sob from the deepest of sorrows, to know there is a better life, to let go of fear, and to manifest love.

Peet is quiet waiting for the another wave. A bigger one comes, he says again, "Reeedy naka Ma'am?" And I say an emphatic, deafening "Yes!"

Low tide at Cloud 9

Low tide

Silence
Mulling over
Ruminations
Or simply
A space to
Take it all in
Breathe it all in
Clarity
Your heart fierce
Then becoming soft
The not so beautiful parts
And the ones that are. 

As I stood and watched my life packed into three bags, the immensity of it all dawns on me and I leave the room and seek refuge in my best friend's home. I kept repeating, "Daghan kaayo akong gamit. Daghan kaayo akong sinina. Daghan pa kaayo ko'g empakihon." And I wept and wept.

Exactly 14 years after, here I am packing my bags about to leave the place that the Universe has circled on the map for me. The waves from the Pacific, saltwater in my lungs, strangers from all over turning into family, stories that burst from every corner permeate into my consciousness packed into the 3 bags I brought here in this island. The immensity of everything embraces me. "Kadaghan sa akong dalhon. Kadaghan," I say to myself."

Our teacher teaches us a mantra in a voice that is gentler than a newborn's touch. "Baba nam keyvalam." Infinite love is all there is.

It was love that led me to a life with my boys. It was love that led me here. And yes it is love that will see me home.

 

As I came up from riding the waves, I found myself planting my bare feet on the wooden planks on the boardwalk more gingerly, more carefully, more consciously. It was as if it was the first time I was learning to walk. Perhaps this is what happens when we let go of fear, when we begin to truly understand what it is to love ourselves. Just like when a child is ready to explore the world more freely finally taking her first steps.

I tell Lili, "Can we take a photo before I leave?" The van that would take me to the airport would be arriving in 15 minutes. "Oh yes! Family Picture," she said. Family, I repeated the word to myself silently. Yesterday when I was getting ready for my surfing lessons, the whole commune was rooting for me sending me off with apparent joy. And when I got back they were eager to know how it went. The smiles on their faces with a quiet clap of hands was very much like a parent reveling and marveling as a child has taken her first steps.

Yes indeed, Family. This is what my journey has arrived at. In many ways the gentle souls here have parented me, embraced me with the gift of freedom, quietness, solace, warmth, clarity and peace.

Lotus Shores, kadaghan sa gasa akong na dala. Daghang salamat.

 

There is beauty in this place that has allowed me to embrace my own. For the first time in so long, as our teacher gently asked us to wrap our arms around ourselves, I felt safe. I felt loved. And I finally felt that I was enough. I am enough. 

Throw caution to the wind. Manifest your heart. Disrobe what is unnecessary. Embrace what is.

Siargao, Salamat Karajaw.