Four years ago, I fell in love. A cup of coffee, an empty space, my flair for words, my comfort with solitude, chewing some courage, digesting the light of my every experience, and the passion that resonates within me gave birth to my 4-year blogsite.
I was worst with writing back then. There were times when I cannot spell properly and for someone who loves to read and memory gap hasn't taken its toll on my healthy brain cells, it's quite disappointing that I have to Google it. There were times that despite the racing heartbeat to make an article, I ended up signing out and goes to sleep. There were times when I would say, "God, I can't write!"
But my tenacity to express eluded my fears and setbacks.
Who cares if I will tell my stories? Who cares if I cannot use the right subject-verb agreement? This is my platform, my stories are the prose I am able to rant. I'm going to write until the day comes that I won't be able to scribe.
I remember the words of Mother Teresa in one of the documentaries of her life. "If I didn't pick up one man and carried him in my arms, I wouldn't have able to carried the hundreds and thousands of poor in the streets. Take a single step in faith."
179 posts, 4 years of sharing fearlessly, 4 years of "still learning" in most humble ways, 4 years of being in love every day with what I'm doing, 4 years of still choosing to be in love with the gift He endowed to me. And it started with a single article 4 years ago.
I am an unadorned woman, probably lacks many skills when it comes to written media. But for the past years of blogging, I learned that I can trust my intuition. I learned that I can trust my heart. That if you want to touch lives, you have to be brave to learn to unravel the daily lessons that mostly comes in disguise of pain and discomfort, the dark lengths and corners, the inevitable gloomy days.
Because everything that happens has something to do with making us stronger, more resilient with what is coming, more trusting with the grace that won't leave us and will never leave us until we finally able to say that life is always and has always been beautiful if our hearts are open to be empowered.
Thank you once again for the years we've been together. For the unholy hours I would publish my posts and you would read it along with your cup of coffee or your worn out pajama. For forgiving my injustices when it comes to grammar and all. For allowing my own experiences to guide you in your struggles. For taking my life's lessons as your pointing arrow to either follow it or making it better.
Thank you for knowing me by reading my stories.
In my austere simplicity, I knew I am loved.
So I'm giving it back through the girl who writes.
But my tenacity to express eluded my fears and setbacks.
Who cares if I will tell my stories? Who cares if I cannot use the right subject-verb agreement? This is my platform, my stories are the prose I am able to rant. I'm going to write until the day comes that I won't be able to scribe.
I remember the words of Mother Teresa in one of the documentaries of her life. "If I didn't pick up one man and carried him in my arms, I wouldn't have able to carried the hundreds and thousands of poor in the streets. Take a single step in faith."
179 posts, 4 years of sharing fearlessly, 4 years of "still learning" in most humble ways, 4 years of being in love every day with what I'm doing, 4 years of still choosing to be in love with the gift He endowed to me. And it started with a single article 4 years ago.
I am an unadorned woman, probably lacks many skills when it comes to written media. But for the past years of blogging, I learned that I can trust my intuition. I learned that I can trust my heart. That if you want to touch lives, you have to be brave to learn to unravel the daily lessons that mostly comes in disguise of pain and discomfort, the dark lengths and corners, the inevitable gloomy days.
Because everything that happens has something to do with making us stronger, more resilient with what is coming, more trusting with the grace that won't leave us and will never leave us until we finally able to say that life is always and has always been beautiful if our hearts are open to be empowered.
Thank you once again for the years we've been together. For the unholy hours I would publish my posts and you would read it along with your cup of coffee or your worn out pajama. For forgiving my injustices when it comes to grammar and all. For allowing my own experiences to guide you in your struggles. For taking my life's lessons as your pointing arrow to either follow it or making it better.
Thank you for knowing me by reading my stories.
In my austere simplicity, I knew I am loved.
So I'm giving it back through the girl who writes.
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