Finding Home

The waves sounded like drum beats with sudden, angry movements of a woman's hand. Anger--one that has been kept in. Now it comes out in ragged gasps like buried sobs. Quiet then loud. Clapping one after another like dominoes on sand. "Ruin. Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation." Elizabeth Gilbert's words resound in my head. There is no moon. Only stars. Millions of them shone against the curtain of black. The wind blows from the mountains. The colored flags, pale and shadowed in the night danced in the wind.  My bare feet dug into the soft, grainy sand, finding its respite. And while my body can find rest, my mind wanders with the question, "What will I learn this time?" Miss Ailyn tells me, "Gibutang man ko sa Ginoo diri." God put me here. Tears in her eyes, heart on her sleeve, she has done wonders for the community here. There is so much more to the story than what the national TV show, G diaries has show

We passed this place too many times in the past. A road sign planted at the corner where we turn right greets us every time we go to the mountains. Today we finally turned that right corner. The road is small but passable. We turn another right and we've arrived. We alight from our vehicle.  The air is cool. It is quiet. Water pouring from the clay pot fountain sounds.  We walk the tiled steps onto the veranda overlooking rich foliage, mountains and a river down below. The dining area is small, enclosed by glass windows floor to ceiling. We enter and homemade cheesecake greets us at the door,  Halo-halo too. We order lunch. I go outside again and explore the place. Numerous butterflies flit from one plant to the next. Fragrance in the air permeates from different herbs and spices. Citronella leaves are in a clay pot filled with water. Underneath, coals unlit rest. I walk gingerly, swaying this way and that,  careful not to disturb the green living things.    

"Ako po si Ronald, Surf Instructor 'nyo," he says. He holds out his hand.  He is slim in stature, around 5'3" tall. He has clean-cut hair and an easy, kind  smile. He is only 18  years old, a grade 12 student at the local high school. He lays the board on the sand and says, "Sir, Ma'am, 3 safety rules muna tayo, bago mag simula." (Let's know the three safety rules of surfing.) He proceeds to orient us with it in a clear, gentle but very firm voice. While he is laying out the rules, he looks at my husband. "Nakuha, Sir?" (Did you understand the rules?) He then turns to look at me.  "Ulitin ko Ma'am ha."(I'll repeat the rules.) He repeats the rules this time directing them  specifically to me. And then he looks at both of us and says, "Last time Sir and Ma'am ha. Para sigurado." (Just to make sure, I'll repeat it one last time.) Ronald reiterates the safety rules the third time. A good 15 minute

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

Dear Wildflower of Cabintan, I don't have earth hands. Plants do not seem to grow from these palms. But I have eyes. Eyes that marvel. Nostrils that savor every scent of you. Fingers that are gentle so as not to hurt you. And fingers that are quick to type on keys to write about the beauty that is you. I hope, for now, this will do. Love, This amateur explorer with eyes that marvel, Bea Brgy. Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte

The quiet The holding onto almost nothing And yet Everything Hung in the balance Of words and the loss thereof. April 12, 2017 Lake Janagdan Brgy Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte

Dear Mountains of Cabintan, I have not forgotten you. I find myself returning to the memory of your crisp air, soothing wind, rich earth, frog song, bird hymns. My heart has been racing lately for all the good reasons. A dream has been made into reality. And if there is one thing I've learned from getting lost in the beautiful nooks and crannies and various parts of you, it is that I must resp ect all the trails that have led me to where I am today. I shall return to get lost again in your arms very soon. This amateur explorer, Bea Alto Peak Site D Brgy. Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte

"An enormous landslide on the way to the Alto Peak Campsite due to heavy rains," our guide said. What must it sound like when the ground gave out? The shifting of the earth, the breaking down after years of holding it all in? A climber bemused, "Yep, we do have a lot of baggage." We thought she was referring to her group's bags and supplies. And then she continued with a grin, "Emotional ones. " She sprained her ankle while descending from Lake Janagdan. Her load was too much for her size and yet she endured it until well, her ankle gave in. What loads do we carry when we march on that trail of no return? Why do we march on that trail of no return? And how much of it is ours to carry or do we need to carry, really? Or, do we take on that path so our baggages may be unpacked? So our former selves may be shed off by dust, mud, rain, mist, fog, sun, meager footholds, thin nylon ropes that burn our palms? Or because physical pain is

Dear 17-Year Old Guide, You walked as fast as the staccato beats of Djembe drums. My breath, in hurried gasps, my neurons stimulated to last me a week. Most of all, my heart, oh my heart, you made it bursting with fire and light. You said, "Nag-agad ra man ko ninyo , Ma'am." (I was only relying on your pace.) As much as I was flattered, it was the best this 36-year old body could do. Never mind that I am twice as old as you are. But really this letter is less about me and more about you. You, will go far. Your persistence and the fire inside you will bring you to places many people only dream of. Your light made me arrive at this realization-- That whatever dark place I am in, for as long as I do not stop putting one foot in front of the other, I will get to the other side. Perhaps that is why you and many others we have gotten the privilege of knowing are aptly called "Guides". You lead the way, clear the path as we trek and climb the trails.

Dear Alto Peak, We saw you clearly this time from Mt. Aminduen. We also saw your deep valleys, your deep ravines and elegant ridges. Clear as day, we saw you. And you are beautiful. We also heard the wind that is your friend from the Pacific again, though not as loud but still as insistent. Her message crisp, clear saying, "Welcome back, my friend." Love, Bea Photo: Sulfur Rock April 29, 2017 Mount Aminduen Brgy Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte

Dry bag, water, food. Appropriate hiking gear- long sleeved dri-fit top, trekking pants, trekking shoes, bugspray. Two able feet. Two hands that don't mind getting down and dirty. Eyes that marvel. Lastly, Mindfulness and A sheer spirit of adventure. April 23, 2017 Hot Springs Brgy. Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte

"Unsa na'ng naningog ron?" I asked our guide. (What are those sounds?) "Pakra na Ma'am," he replied.  (Forest Frogs) I thought they were birds. Their croaking was loud it was as if there was a whole orchestra of them. Probably there was indeed a whole orchestra of them. And then slowly the fog descended enveloping the entire lake. A slow dance of white water droplets to the rhythm of "Pakra" sin ging. Here I was all muddied and tired from the climb which they aptly described "assault" all the way up and then the very steep descent with only a nylon rope, muddy and slippery patches of earth as foot holds to hang on to for dear life. Here I was. And then somewhere hidden in the vicinity of the lake were "Pakra" croaking so loudly it sounded like choristers belting. And then the fog appeared slowly, carefully, intimately, quietly. In that moment, somehow I knew, the Universe, in all her ways that are simple

Dear Red-tailed Dragonfly, You flitted and flew about. I was poised and ready to capture your beauty but then you refused to appear in my frame. And when I put my phone away, you mischievously appeared. Somehow you told me, just sit and be still. Put that dang thing away. Open your arms, float in the hot tub of sulfur water, close your eyes and know I am here. You are here. Sit, Bea. Be still.  Alright, I will. Love, Me Hot Springs Brgy Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte

"Just a 30 minute walk," Isaiah, our guide said. So of course we thought, easy breezy. But we forgot this was the mountains. The concept of time here is different. And so we trekked down, the Hot Springs already a clear image in our heads. We had no plans of doing Lake Janagdan or something like her anytime soon. We climbed down steep trails, crossed 3 rivers, tread on slippery rocks, stepped on uneven paths, wet, dry, mud before we finally reached the Hot Springs. "So tell me again, where did you come up with the 30 minute walk?" I asked our guide. He laughed. We laughed. It was a Sunday well-spent. If there is anything the mountains have been teaching me, it is that I do not know half of what I think I know and that whatever answers I have come to seek, I will find it in always, always going back to the earth. April 23, 2017 Hot Springs Barangay Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte

March 30, 2 017 Alto Peak, Site D Brgy Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte Note to self: When people are heading to the sun and sand, you, on the other hand run to the mountains. When others seek the comfort of lush rooms and manicured views, you prefer the rawness, brashness of vines, ridges, ravines, steep climbs. When most people want big crowds, you choose the quiet, the intimacy of moments with people who matter more or with people who let you see what matters most. Yes, Bea, I think you are doing alright. Yes, you are. Now go on with it.

March 30, 2017 Alto Peak, Site D Brgy Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte You climbed up the mountain with shoes not meant for climbing. The weather was brutal. But you forged on, wet to the bone. You haven't been in good shape for quite some time now. No CrossFit. No Yoga. No nothing. All you had was hubris and maybe 30 minutes work of mobility. Still you forged on. Serendipity. This uncanny wisp has been holding the wheel leading you, directing you to this truth: Your imperfections make you whole.

April 12, 2017 Lake Janagdan Brgy Cabintan Ormoc, Leyte Our guide told us a story about men who have lost their way in the mountains, because they were brash, loud and arrogant, boasting of how well they know the mountains. He told us how his own father was bitten by a wild boar because he didn't make an offering to nature. "Halad sa Kinaiyahan, " he told me. Coming to the mountains, one would think as Thoreau did, "I went into the woods to live deliberately..." What did he mean? Perhaps what our guide meant. To not be careless or reckless. To be humble. To be mindful. To give respect to Nature. To honor the earth. Questions to ask now that I am back to the daily grind: What does humility mean? How should I live it? What offering can I, must I give to this life?