...for there are roads that need to be tread..alone...

I grabbed my bag and hurriedly took a seat at the farthest end of the bus. I said my usual concise prayer, asking for the enormous strength I needed for the day. I can feel a monotonous atmosphere inside the bus. In my view from afar, I can see the routine fixing of the hair which I translated as the effect of having had a dysfunctional alarm clock. From my right view is the yawning and once in a while leaning of head against the seat’s head part. The engine of the bus started, another journey is about to take….

I had deliberately fought the good fight of my own solitude. I don’t know if I should be concern of my love of being alone. I just wanted to take sometime unloading all the things I am oblivious of absorbing. You might think I’m emotionally unstable and this is just one of the melodramatic piece I am capable of doing. Well, there’s a grain of truth in it. But who among you can courageously tell me that you, once in your lifetime had never become emotionally unstable, because you have never yearned for the same tranquility? You will find it difficult to understand my musings if you were perfectly and emotionally grounded; if you never experienced to have some sense of wanting of a definite "space". Pilgrims will agree that they defy whatever is definite, for no one stays in the same place all throughout their lives. We evolve, just as the bus moves forward. It leaves something from behind when it started to move, and expects something that lies ahead as it propels forward.

I am a pilgrim in my own definition. I confess that in my 26 years of existence, I’m still finding my own “space”. I cannot feel the truest sense of inner peace, of genuine lasting happiness, and a sense of plenary gratification. Though if I’ll brag, and which I do not wish to do, because I might in a way be held to being complacent in life and by then I’ll stop evolving and busting through. I thank my God for my instability in some aspects, because it fuels me to continue finding that space. And in search for the things that’s drawing me back to the presence of abyss. It won’t let go, it will continue being dormant till I have fully understood my own journey.

I phoned my mom today. I believe this is the weirdest phone call she had ever received from me....

 “Hi Ma, how’s everything with you?” “I’m at the pharmacy buying my medicines. You might be missing me so much you’re calling me much often these past days”, she said while I’m hearing the drafts of  utility vehicles moving around. “Actually, I call because I wanted to cry. I’m all good don’t worry. I just want you to know that at this moment, I want to cry. Did you ever feel the same before?” I heard her contagious laughter on the other line. “You must really be missing me. I think it’s normal for someone who hasn’t been home for 3 years. You are anticipating what will happen next the moment you come home. Or where will you be after you leave where you are at the present.” I was listening intently to her words. It’s the first time I sought her opinion over matters like this at this moment of different timelines and immeasurable distance. But I felt her want to be with me. “Are you happy, Ma?” my follow up inquiry in cracked voice. “Yes, I’m happy”. “What makes you happy then?” I interrupted. “Whenever I think of you and your sister. What you have achieved and where both of you in the present. As long as you two are ok, I am happy”. I can hear her encouraging tone, making me feel secure that wherever I may go, the pilgrim will end in our home. I hung up the phone with an I love you from her, wiped the tears that had long been felt since the day I had written the worst article.

I was back again in the odd moment sitting inside the bus where I can see the flimsy plant swaying among the wind. It’s cold inside the bus and I can’t gauge the temperature outside. I am presently fix on the plant enduring whatever temperature there is for the moment. It bends without complaining, it dances where the wind suggests. It doesn't fear if by any moment its slender body will no longer tolerate the pressures it receives. The plant must have found its space...that's why it stood still amidst almost everything.

In a while, the sun will rise again. I'll be riding the same bus, but will be trudging a different journey. It might be the same route but different conviction, same path with different experience.

In life though, in our many roads to choose from, there are definitely some roads we need to tread..And some of them needs to be tread...alone. Til we find the space to fit in to.

Still, this life is worth living. Our God is worth praising. I'll sleep for now. It's another day.