...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.

..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!=)

..An Epitaph: She Died LOL ..

Photo Credits to Robz Tan

The hallway's light were already off. It has been my third night shift duty. The whole ward is now peacefully joining the slumbering population. The only clutters I can hear from where I am sitting are the leafing of the vital signs sheet monitoring and the cup of coffee being held and laid down every now and then. My eyes are a bit lazy as I am watching our Resident doctor accomplishing the prescriptions. Half of the world are now asleep; half are awake for reasons not of my concern anymore. I'm lucky enough to be sitting on the corner of the medication room, goosebumps visible on my arms as my vision is affixed on my own penmanship which in the long run I realized is not making sense anymore and therefore concluded a severe hopeless case for that matter. What keeps me awake are the songs played from my co-worker's phone and the once in a while call from the patient's room. I'm not in the mood to strike a conversation to anyone which I usually does on early dawn. I just wanted to savor my undisturbed bliss on the swivel chair on crossed-leg. I miss blogging, I miss Chameleon's wall. I still have images I wanted to put on my sketch pad, paint brushes I wanted to get hold again. But for now, I'm not an underground blogger. I am not a writer, I am not a painter, I am not a jovial photo enthusiast. I am just a girl in a nurses' cap in awe of her own grotesque handwriting.  In those moment of idleness, a letter of relief was composed:

Hi Kim,

How's life lately? Been terrifically busy I guessed. Oh, why tears are welling on those tired eyes? C'mon, I know you are strong. Keep holding on anything that is giving you strength. Nobody said life will be all easy. Be ready for days when even Cadburry's chocolates are not so much of aid. Drizzles will come unexpectedly and you are not spared from getting wet. Keep that resilient composure, grip on your beliefs that no matter how long a night is, it culminates into a day. Same as how terrible a day is, it ends to a night of rest. By the way, you deserve a tap on your shoulder. It had been such a while when you rested those for refuge. And let me give you big warm hug. You often do that to someone else. You surely deserve one. I wanted you to know how blessed you are: with people, with relationships, with a noble job that helped you live life differently. I'm proud you are investing over people and not on earthly things. Continue to be crazily inlove with life for it has always been your goal. You were asking for an epitaph years back. I guessed you finally found an antidote. And hey Kim, have I told you lately how much I love you? Now wipe those tears. Continue with life. He is moving forward with you..till the end.

No one else, 

Kim

Note Below:

The author might be worn out and crazy. But it's her insanity that keeps her sane. 

Note Below 2:

Article inspired by a previous note click here. To answer what that epitaph will be, it's this:

"She Died  LOL (Living Out Life)".

What's your Epitaph?

..of the door that swung open..

The sun is at its hottest while I am sitting on the bench waiting for the bus. I haven't had enough sleep that day given that everybody is busy for the hospital activities. I breathe for a while watching the dove tiptoeing on the swamp road after an evening of drizzle. It pause for a while and I was able to get a good shot from my DSLR. Returning back from where I was seated to get some rest while waiting, the sensored door on the other end of the corridor keeps on opening and closing upon sensing an attempt of passage. I was glued for the moment on that motion, forgotten my sister's voice who is the bearer of an unwanted news. The temperature outside from where I was seated  added to the overwhelming melancholy. Yet, I have chosen to stay at peace, to be strong, to be still; for no one will do it for me being away from my family. It feels like nothing is of existent at that moment but the door that was extravagant in opening and closing, and my heart that has chosen to beat in the fight of whatever it feels.

I sauntered many doors before.  And many set foot on mine. Our life is like a door. You have no control who will come neither you have the power to control who will go. Some will twist the knob open, peeking slowly head first and with a smile knocks you down head-over-heels. Some will never knock at all, and shattered your world upside down. Some will step a foot keeping it adjacent, only to find that another foot is ready to say goodbye. People in this world are really just passing by. You cannot trust even a familiar door. It can shut its back on you any moment. And in every closing door, tears surely will fall. Hearts surely get bruised. Strength surely gets tested. Character changes. Life is never be the same again. But as the law of Physics says that in every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Today, you might feel that a certain door of your life bang a big noise that spells out C-L-O-S-E. Someone could have left you without a goodbye, you could have lost a loved one, a proposed project that was turned down, a wanted position that was given to others. The door could had just been shut off on you. But there will always a moment that it will open again. For doors are not made for the purpose of exit. It was mainly created for entrance. New hands will soon hold the knob, new fist to knock and make a new sound, new face to peep and give a smile, new feet to walk with you in your traverse of life.

People are just mere motion. Anytime, they can stop. It's not our job to control the motion. Our only job is to trust the Sensor.

..and allow Him to do the impossible. 

..what are you afraid of?..

The room is of total darkness. It's roughly 10:00 o' clock in the evening. I came in carrying with me the medication tray. It's due time for his pain reliever. I switched on the light as any nurse would do the same considering my safety first. In plain manner, he asked "are you afraid?". "Afraid of what?", my reply in question form. "Because it's dark" he said. I handed him the cup of tablets. "I'm not afraid. I've been there".

"Are you afraid?" If my patient happened to ask this question a couple of years ago, then my answer could have been a yes. If only I can disclose in this blog the worst article I've ever composed and disappear thereafter. But then again, I am sticking as to what my header reads, "life's great lessons". I had already let go of the boat loaded with the heaviest weight anchored in the harbor called "past". It felt like I was vacuumed  from a canister of total eclipse. A space I thought I would fight all alone relentlessly. Surely, there's always an end as there's always a beginning. Just as no matter how long and tedious a night is, dawn awaits to break to cast out rays of hope. 

In many occasions of our journey, we bumped to an enormous roads of choices. Most often than not, we managed to made the wrong ones. We fell to baits of worldly trappings. We rubbed elbows with dead ends. We ruined relationships. We hurt others and double injured ourselves. And it sorely and deeply hurts. We are afraid to make choices again for the fear of many fears. We are then force to live in the perimeter of mediocrity because there in that space, you don't need to make a choice. You just have to live with it and by it. And you started to die each day. Every single day.

From afar, someone sees and feels your pains. He knows your troubles and sufferings. For He was with you in all your wrong choices till you made to the dead ends. He saw you sobbing in the cold dark room, His eyes were filled with tears too. Slowly, He reached out and turned on the switch of light called "love". It pains terribly in the eyes since you were accustomed living without the light. In a tender voice with arms wrapping around you, He whispered in your ear "Don't be afraid. It is I". You raised your head, fighting the pain of lights' beam. You saw the eyes welled in tears, tenderly looking intently on you. He held out His hand  and started drying your cheeks, the same hand who bear the nails. "I have always loved you, in all your wrongs and in all your rights . I have walked with you in all the seasons of your life, I rejoiced in your victories, my smile ear-length and cried with you in your emptiness. I have hugged you tighter in the nights where you blame my absence and will continue hugging you even when you turned your back on me. Nothing that you have done that will take my eyes off you, for you are my one great love. I will run after you, and will never get tired chasing you. Until you will give your glance back on me. Until you will feel that I am on the air that you breathe. Until you will love me again. I will be patient in your wounds, just as I was patient on the cross. I love you as I always does. Be healed with my constant love"

What are you afraid of my beloved? Come to Your Father. Don't be afraid. It is I. -God