..a trudged in the desert..

It is soul-pampering having to stray away from the noises once in a while. Noises coming from the busy work, the unending daily routines, worries and stresses rooting from unceasing causes. Sometimes, the enticing noise can divert your attention to a particular destination. It's like driving a car along  the diverging roads. The first road got fences painted in different colors, no evidences of humps and bumps, and lamp posts are present alongside. No fear of having to get lost along the way. The other road, on the other hand, is the less traveled road. At the entrance of it, you feel like you cannot jump-start your car. You'd rather not take the journey at all. Because it's barren, it's isolated. You already anticipated the possible damages it can cause on your newly showered tires.  

The past days are quite a toil for me. Everything seemed very fine until I was called by that inner force to have my own choice of what road to travel. It's been a noisy month for me--work, party a bit, social network, and  going out once in a while that I've been so complacent with my life. One night, I went home. Though I'm not physically spent, I'm emotionally drained. I feel like I was a dripping sponge incapable of absorbing anymore. I needed a break...I removed my bag and noticed that small brown pack..untouched for a certain length of days. It's my Gratitude Journal. I don't know what to feel but at that moment, I know what I've been missing.... 

I made the choice. I took the barren, isolated road of being "still" and "quiet". It's annoying, especially if you were used with those colorful painted fence, lamp posts and smooth surfaces of life; when you are used and intertwined with the enticing noises of life. So keeping quiet and being still is a torture. Foremost because no one will chose a road that is less traveled, no one wanted to be in the desert. In fact, the truth is we all fear "desert". We don't want to be alone, we don't want silence, we don't want an hour or a day that we are useless, we want to be needed, we want to stay with the adrenaline rush.  But there is nothing absolutely absolute in this life.

 I've learned that all the while, the world is governed by antonyms. The rain might be bad for fishermen, but is helpful for farmers. The biceps contracts so that the triceps can relax. Nothing is absolute. In the same way, we move, yet we should rest. And when I say rest, I mean going to the place where we fear the most--the desert. Find refuge in those silent times where you can be with yourself, be with your Maker, to listen to what your heart's deepest desire, to your soul's deepest longings. To have some time to think over of your blessings, the missed opportunities, not to cry over them but to learn the lessons that comes with the experience. And most importantly, to re-fill your love tank. So you can give again, listen again, love again without getting used up and drained. Because you cannot give what you  do not have.

I was able to scribble again on those empty lines, each filled  with ordinary things, moments and people that were turned extraordinary because those things, moments and people were counted as blessings. People then may wonder what are the reasons for your genuine smile, your enduring strength, your caring ways and accepting heart. Sometimes, the answers are found on leafing those pages!

Take a good travel to the desert once in a while. Don't be afraid. You'll see God there!

Dear desert,

I never thought you could be that beautiful!

Dear blessings, 

See you at the tip of my pen!

It's Thursday! Let's be happy!=)

..a smile that costs nothing..

In a never ending routine of living life, there are instances when out of the menial day God throws paints to color the word "happiness". I am not in a state of equilibrium going to work since I slept for roughly 3 hours. Bringing out from my pocket a small booklet which I used to read while on travel, I cannot helped but notice how lovely the rays of the sun as it touches my just-now-fixed-from-the-shower hair. I was consoled by its warmth. He must have sensed from afar the peeping melancholy...and sent an omen through DHL referred to by my mentor as Delivery by Heaven's Love.

If you have been my avid reader and came across my blog entitled "Marry My Son"  click here,  be glad to know that I happened to meet again my favorite patient. How I wished it was a different circumstance; not a hospital setting. To keep you posted, I was right when I suspected a psychological etiology of her previous behavior. She was diagnosed with *Schizophrenia. She lost weight compared to our last encounter. Her hair were even whiter. The only thing remained and made me love about her was her sweet squeaky voice: so motherly, so innocent that only a hard-hearted nurse will never notice. This morning, she's more awake and conversant. After she did her bathroom privilege, I offered to change the linens of her bed. I glanced at where she was seated and smile at how she remained so timid. To break the silence, I playfully told her: "Can you smile for me?" Though the room was not brightly lighted and the curtains covered the wide-spaced windows, I saw a glimpse of joy on a corner of someone on unkempt hair, loose teeth  and old hospital gown. I reiterated my words winking at her while helping her back on the bed. I know that touching should be done cautiously but sometimes, I am a mad rebel. I get hold of  her left hand with my right and touched her forehead with my left. She may be in lucid intervals  but I was so surprised when her other hand hold mine. It was the best moment I had at the start of my shift. There I was, trying to uplift the spirit of someone I assumed living on her dark room where she feels secure. In an awesome twist of fate, I was the one jovially uplifted. There I was, trying to make someone feel better assuming that my world is better than the ideal world she had created in her mind. And in a single snap of a glorious moment when her hand touched mine, I was totally cracked within. It was so pure. It was so real. It was full of love. As I am to commence combing her hair, putting some powder on her back and changing her soiled gown, she looked at me with all gentleness. The same eyes back then when I cannot yet understand the agony of her own sufferings, when she cannot use her own emotional language to express her pains, when only being unkempt and soiled made her feel safe and secure. In a soft squeaky sweet voice, I heard her say "Smile, it costs nothing."

I may have been physically spent with all days' work, spent half of my 24 hours on a place where death can wink at any given time, toiled hours caring for people who at times cannot appreciate what I consider noble and undermine what simple people consider as marvelous, I am at the moment never had a second thought that I was made for this. I have told these words for a dear friend, but in times I am losing grip, I am reminding myself: God's grace will never take you, where God's grace will never keep you.

In those hush momenst, God broke His own silence by saying: "Can you smile for me?. It may costs you nothing, but for Me, it's everything.=)

 I just had a taste of a DHL=)

*Schizophrenia is a mental disorder characterized by disturbance in thought processes often associated with delusions, hallucinations, and paranoia. See this site for more into click here

..saved by a cup of coffee..

Night is befalling and only one sound dominates at the start of my shift. I have been walking here and there, and well, been accustomed to the halllway as a catwalk. The only difference is that I'm not on a stiletto. Passing by near the elevator, I saw Ate Mel and asked her if she had eaten. (An introduction of someone who hasn't eaten yet, and about to ask of something to eat). A nod affirmed that she too had heard the sound that I've been hearing at the start of endorsement; the borborygmus sound or plainly, the rumbling stomach. Having set the goal of accomplishing my tasks at wee hours, I sang along with borborygmi as my background,haha Before the hospital shook, world war III began and nearing of the end of the world because of my gifted voice (ahem), I received a bowl of macaroni soup and fried chicken. It seemed that an angel with bangs dropped by the station and my eyeballs were so excited it nearly forgot to come back on my optical orbit while the angel of my night was delivering the words in celestial voice "It's ok to sing, but you are prettier if you rather eat". (The angel must have been afraid of the impending calamity because of my golden voice,lol). Just fooling around. Wanna see you smile,=)

Weeks ago on once upon a night, I treated our cleaners with a cup of coffee. It's priceless to make bonds with ordinary people. They are the ones who are true, no pretensions, and no bar holds when it comes to life's lessons. They know better what pure joys are by living a simple and decent life. Macaroni soup and fried chicken may not be too much but for someone who's earnings are lesser than mine, it's more than a blessing. I realized that when you lose kindness to someone else, you gained twice the return. It may not be an urgent response to what you give, but along the way, it comes in moments like wee hours.

In my case, it saved me from: first, being a hungry nurse; second, a master destroyer of the universe =)

Let kindness reign. Hello June!=)