Finding Home

                              A friend asked me, "Are you happy with your life now?"                 A memory came up today of me surfing. I remember the instant I decided to let go of fear for the possibility of something bigger than me-- bliss.   I remember the poignant lesson of moving with the seasons, of flowing with the impermanent nature of elements.  To surf the waves, I needed to let go and surrender. To live this gifted and given life, all the more. What is this if not bliss? And what is bliss if not quite simply peace? So my answer to the question whether I'm happy is "While I no longer surf or do many other things that used to give me so much joy, I find numerous moments of bliss. And this is enough." This life is enough.       "The love you offer yourself when you let go of fear will be astounding." - Alison Malee

  October 13, 2021 The sun came out today after days of relentless rain.   La Nina all throughout October, our weather bureau said. But of course, nature follows its own course. When the weather app says 100% chance of precipitation, the clouds decide to dissipate. So in these pockets of unexpected goodness, my feet are quick to rid of slippers and step onto still dewy grass, basking my body in delicious sunshine knowing it will not last for long. Nothing does, after all. Nothing ever does. Impermanence. Anitya in Sanskrit. Anicca in Pali. A lifelong practice consisting of many, many trials and errors. Ephemeral, fleeting, and transient are just few of words that shape this reality. My mother died last year. And even if after her stroke, my brother already prepared me for the worst, when it finally happened, her passing, it hit me like a tidal wave. I liken it to such because just like surfing, one is obviously well aware of how waves are ever present. Depending on the time of ye

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

"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