Finding Home

This is what 250 meters above sea level looks like Where the air is life For your weather-beaten body And mind Where the cawing of The crows declare You are alive! you are alive! This is what remorse looks like. As if the fear and anticipation Never bore you down As if  You never wished for A thing as impossible As a force field to shield Your boys as fiercely As You possibly could.  This is what relief looks like. An answered prayer To a desperate pleading "Please not again, not again. " This is what 250 meters above Sea level looks like High. Above. Rise. Up. Wide. Open. Begin again. Clear. Precise. This time richer. This time better. Stronger. And then you Remember, Reminded time And again,  "We grow stronger in the places we are broken." “The world breaks us all. Afterward, some are stronger at the broken places.” -Ernest Hemingway, Farewell To Arms

I miss you  in the quiet spaces.  Such as those that  wake me in the morning--  A stream of light flooding,  the smell of your shirt,  the smoothness from Being worn over and over  The Shuffling of your feet  towards  The bedroom door Your fingers gently  Turning the lock  So as not to wake me  And Our boys Grains of coffee beans Grazing your fingers  Sagada wafting  Through the air Beckoning  My still sleeping body To rise, and  I do As with all beckonings Of my heart I wonder why But not long I just take  One look  At two cups  steaming You reading in  The morning light  And me taking my place  In the quiet space beside you remembering,  Ah, this is why.  This is why. 

I used to have a personal spot where I write and read my favorite books over and over again. I would pile them on the table and admire their mere presence. Then Typhoon Haiyan came and drenched them and everything else to the core. So I had to throw them all away.  It would be accurate to say that my heart broke when I did what I had to do because it meant I was forced to cut off something that has been a precious part of who I was at the time. Yes, it was just material. Am I being shallow? Maybe. Am I being human? Absolutely. We all have things that are meaningful to us because in one way or another, they symbolize our identity. For some jewelry represents a luxury earned for many years of hard work. For others an array of clothes, shoes and bags represents a wholeness of what wasn't in one's past. And for the enlightened few, they've reached a point where they see all material things as mere mediums or vehicles, if you will, to take them to places of pur...

Pack light. Bring only what is necessary to wherever you may go. Lay it all down. Spread it all out: tickets, passport, money, clothes; tops, bottoms, shoe wear, accessories. Ask the questions: For how many days? What places to go? Do I really need to bring those stilettos? Or would comfy flats do? Do I really need those many tops to go with those many pairs of jeans? One suitcase. Or a backpack perhaps. How to know that what you packed is enough? Wear your backpack. Can you still move around without straining your back? Lift your suitcase. Can you sustain carrying it for the duration of your travel without the aid of a porter? Pack light. In travel as in life. Such sound advice. Family. Friends. Virtues.  Family in blood or not. What matters is whenever you're with them you feel safe. You can be who you want to be, who you are without fear of judgment or reprimand. They root you to what is essential. Yet they give you wings to soar high. Friends. You don...

Three days ago, I was tasked by the Rotary Club of Ormoc to be part of our senior students' career orientation scheduled Saturday, November 29  to briefly talk about the field of Psychology. It has been a long time since I have spoken about my degree. It has been a long time since I have spoken to an audience of 70 plus or more. It has been a long time since I have prepared a speech. To be exact it was almost two years since the last training program I facilitated which entailed only five participants organized by the same club members who requested my help at the time. I prepared the speech yesterday in just under an hour. (This, I have to thank CrossFit for, which will require an entirely separate post). I had no time to do a more comprehensive research which I did not need to do anyhow  since I was instructed to prepare a 5-minute speech. Given the routine limited availability of my schedule, I did one rough run through of my speech in front of our three off...

Despedida. Leave taking. Parting of ways. I have lost count of the number of friends who have left for another country. It doesn't matter that I only have ten fingers and the friends who have left are less than ten. Because who I consider friends are the very few people who have moved me in remarkable ways. And one leaving is a tad too many. I don't do well with goodbyes. Like most people I suppose. I'd rather take it all in and write. So here I am again dealing with another friend leaving. Coach Chino, my only regret is that I was not able to take the opportunity to be under your wing, save for my elements classes, during your time in Pintados. But, they say there is a purpose for everything. Do know that whatever you have shared with Andro and me-- your passion, your commitment, the sincerity of your friendship, your "realness" as a human being,  will not be forgotten. When Keza informed us about the details of your despedida, and she said to bring food that ...

These words Will be the Last of leaves Landing on A patch of Earth next To your feet A parting gift If you will-- Landing. Falling. Fall. Before the coldest Time of the year But what do I know? We have no winter Here. Still, Fall. One's Flight from grace Like mine to yours Fall. as one does When one loves No matter how small Fall. "To descend freely By the force of Gravity." Secret names in Secret caves Fall. Apart. Break one's bones. Those nearest The heart Fall. Away. Change. Fall. Green leaves Turning red And yellow shades. Fall. Now, Get up.