We Are Designed To Heal

I have to admit I struggled between maintaining my privacy and reaching out to people. It's the same reason why I didn't, or rather stopped, posting pictures in my social media accounts and even minimized sharing quotes -- and realized I was and still fine with it -- because at some point, I felt I sounded too righteous. Knowing I was so flawed, struggling every now and then with my demons while keeping my balance, I felt guilty of being too "preachy". I lost the privilege of riding my high horse, so to speak, when I questioned everything I stood for. Even the simple act of sharing inspirational messages - thinking that by doing so would inspire someone and that someone would inspire another, and that one by one we could infuse more humanity in the chaotic world - lost its meaning.

I had no problem being open. My thought, joy, sarcasm, opinion, I shared them (and obviously, when it's a part of you, it never goes away, as evident by the posts here). But when one area of your life doesn't seem to fit with the other areas to make a whole you, everything you stood for and believed in seemed a... farce. That's what I felt, at least. So I stepped back - and was fine being a reader of my news feed and an amiable "Liker" of others' posts and photos - and scaled down my "sunshiny" personality. Can you imagine someone who's perpetually happy suddenly gotten dim? I felt like a sunflower in the desert, slowly wilting, day by day, under the intense heat of the sun, without the hope of being watered back to life anytime soon. I even had a soundtrack for it, Bright Eyes by Art Garfunkel. Lol.

That's what broken heart did to me, I just died. As Elite Daily stated, "Love Is A Motherf*cker". I suffered the pain of loss resulting from death but the pain of loss from someone breaking my heart, it's intense and magnified a thousand times (anyone who can relate, raise your arms). Maybe because I sincerely and faithfully put my trust in someone who assured me he would be there through the tough and happy times and suddenly, I found myself coping things alone. What's worst, it made me question if there was authenticity to every word he uttered and made me ask the most dreaded question: Did he even love me?

It's true that we go through  a lot of broken hearts in our lifetime and, most of them are our own making. To further stress the last part, I SOLELY feel responsible for all my broken hearts, because I made the choice to be a part of something, and in the case of a love affair gone wrong, I made the choice to make the person become a part of me. I know, I'm trying to be a captain of my ship, even if the ship wrecked me. Lol.

There are different levels of broken heart. Some we seem to recover easily in no time. But some just takes time and it changes us in so many ways like nothing else can. It changes our perspectives and the relationships we have with others. There's a definite taint in the issue of trust. We become selective of who should we let in in our lives. But the problem with it, we become closed off and we lost the chance to be a blessing to others.

But it's justified, right? The fear of being too vulnerable. The thought of people laughing at your misery. The loathing of being called stupid and affirming to the label. They weighed too much on the shoulders.

I shouted out loud before on so many occasions, "Yo, it's okay to wallow in misery", because somehow we all manage to find ourselves out of hell and end up okay. And that's what makes pain beautiful. Only, we won't see the beauty of it until it's over and we make it to the other side and evolve into someone better with higher level of consciousness, more mindful of ourselves and more empathetic about others.

Pain is a gift in a deformed box. We just have to have the grace to accept it and the patience to slowly peel off its wrapper before we can unravel, delight and be grateful of the beautiful content.

Maybe Strangers Are Not Meant To Be Just Strangers, After All

I like talking - whether I initiated it or by the other party - with strangers in random places (but then, even the place where you are [because you want to be there; planned] at the moment, essentially becomes random when you don't deliberately choose to be there as often as you should and the possibility of you being there in the first place is close to zero). There are strangers that are impressive merely because they stand out from the crowd for different reasons. It could be that they are dressed well, or not (again, perspective), or they are loud and you hear them very clearly even when you're lost in your own thoughts or breaking your eardrums with your music, or they do something noticeable (maybe by accident) while others are quiet, on a standstill or glued to their chair. But what sticks the most, is hearing a story from another stranger. Whether the story is compelling, amusing, hilarious, or life-changing, you don't fail to take note, because it resonates in ways relatable to you, or it becomes a pivotal point of reference (for your future, for whatever purpose it'll serve you) from thereon (e.g., as writing materials and more, in my case... I know, evil of me. So let's pinky swear you wouldn't sell me out?).

Maybe it's random, but maybe you're there at the right time. Maybe you're there, even without you realizing it, for that stranger - as a temporary respite, a break from what goes on in their lives (even if you don't know the details), a relief, etc. Or maybe, they're there for you, for reason you only know (if and when you give it a thought, there is something there, if you recognize the random connection). Since you don't know how your meeting affects the other (hopefully, in a positive light), you can only select the takeaways from your side of the fence. Even a brief tête-à-tête with a stranger has its purpose.

I see them in two ways - sealants that fill the cracks on my wall, and lights that find their way through the cracks. Either or both, they, sometimes, provide me reason when reason is too elusive for me to grasp.

Wow, the heavy random thought makes me en-lighten. How ironic is that? Okay, cornik. Lol.

So, I met a young mother of an ailing 5-yr old girl outside the MRI room in the hospital...

...and a loquacious François while waiting for my ride...

...and...

When Life Gave Me Lemon By Way Of A Failed OS

I mentioned my worry about the possibility of a disjointed laptop. No worries (yet), the appendages are still attached. I had more pressing problem than that. The OS just failed to work! Being a tenacious creature who does not easily give up, I basically spent the whole weekend – with a feeling that all my effort was futile, but still, I could not give up, just because – trying the system repair until it gave me a notice that it can’t, and it eventually shut down and I did the same process for the nth time. When I realized there was no other way to start my laptop working but to reformat and re-install the OS, I cried, unashamedly. Considering the circumstance, it’s understandable. Right?

I mean consider these:

      Millions of words written.

      Thousands of photographs.

      Five years of memories with families and friends.

      Countless stories of strangers yet to to be told.

ALL REDUCED TO 0. 

Who, in hell, would not cry over lost files?! Trust me, there are things that can break a heart besides a love affair gone wrong.

I thought about the efforts I put on my writings - the sleepless nights, the shameless thesaurus checking for the right words, the insecurity over grammar, the joy that came with the finished articles/essays. I grieved for the fortunate accidents that moments gave me to have beautiful pictures. All the crazy times that I waited for the right components to appear for those perfect shots…zilch. No more evidences. They now only exist in my head. 

I’m still reeling from my loss, but life has to go on. One has to begin again. This sounds like a lame attempt in marketing a lousy rom-com. Lol.

I had some help to re-install the OS. Some programs were replaced by another. And my keyboard is like a ghost manipulating the Ouija board, the cursor runs like crazy from one point to another , messing what I’m writing.  So my fear that “once a ‘puter/lappy is being tinkered, it’s never going to be the same” is right. And oh my Encarta is gone…so much for trying at being cultured.

I’m not whining. Considering I could not get back what I had lost (woot the cliché!), whining is pretty much useless. I’m trying my best-est at humor. Laugh, please.

You know, I have to say, even when you’re at your lowest - being desolate and hopeless – and your head is wrapped around on your moment’s concern, IF YOU’RE WILLING TO SEE, IF YOU’RE WILLING TO BE SURPRISED, you will always find something to lighten your mood, something akin to sunlight peeking through the cracks in the dark clouds. I basically meant humor. Or comedy. Or however you categorize it.

So, there I was,  mourning with heavy heart over my lost history while entertaining different thoughts over my future works (that would probably need my lost materials) and considering my options, two of my friends (who are in different parts of the country) sent me a private message (out of the blue!) if I’m married and if not, why.

                                      *___________________________*

                                                    The hell?!

But instead of losing head over it and be more upset, it cracked me up. BIG TIME. God (and I do believe He exists) has humor.  Like I already told before, as long as I’m single, it’s a question that will hound me. I found it amusing every time. And given that it’s amusing to me, and to be asked that amusing question while I was distraught, the timing was just perfect and not at the same time. That’s what  I found comical, the absurdity of the timing.

When you’re able to laugh through your misery, you know things will be fine.

Be Aware Of The Uncanny Peace When You Wake Up

This morning as I was waking up, Pharrell William's "Happy" crept in my consciousness. I did not know where it came from because I stopped liking that song for few months now.

A little backstory here. "Happy" was like my soundtrack last year (2014), from the moment I heard it until the third quarter of the year. At that time, my "light" just dimmed. Slowly, everything that supposedly kept my happy spirit burning just went off. The songs that made me dance, quotes that inspired me, people that made me laugh... they ceased to exist. I was in a black hole, alone. That's what I felt, at least. I don't know if I was depressed. I never knew the definition of depression, and even now, I refused to define it and connect it to sadness. Anyway, "Happy" kind of connected me to that period in my past. And feeling that way, "Happy" sounded like a mockery to my emotional and mental state. It's not that I disliked it intentionally. It just happened. I loathed hearing it. It reminded me of people, events and feelings I wanted to move on from.

The song came with a feeling of peace, that I had it on repeat for the whole morning to keep the vibe going.

I should have known that was the "eye of the storm". But I never knew how and what it connected to, until I was/am in the storm. Lol. The last time I felt an uncanny peace was two months ago -- that day, that moment -- before I realized my wallet that contained my identification cards, money and mementos from friends, was lost. That kind of feeling you get when someone hugs you before your turn in a contest or before taking an entrance exam that says "whatever happens, you are going to be fine"? That's the kind of peace I have had, something that just happened without an effort from my part. I don't know if you (by you i meant whoever reads my blog, lol) ever had that?

When you are in tune with your emotions, you learn to read that they are associated to the events that will happen later. Some can be signs to something dreadful that will occur, which could send you into agitation but could arouse the carefulness in you at the same time. Warning signals, I should say. Sometimes, you feel that something just shifted in the universe and all the planets aligned to bring you good news. Obviously, I'm talking from experience. Lol. (I have this theory that everything in the world connects. Although some things that are happening may not seem related if you look at them one by one, but if you look at them in the bigger picture, they are effect from a ripple, or part of the ripple you created or someone's ripple. So, what happens in the world's unseen dynamic could and would send vibrations to the elements [and man is an element] that are part of its system that something is "stirring". And as human, you can sense the "stirring" from within you. But, I would rather have it as an electrical current in small voltage for a good jolt. That would obviously tell me I have something concrete to work on. Lol.) Anyway, I don't know if someone could relate to these? I do know too, that some have the tendency to over-read the signs and that everything in their lives depend on them, entirely forgetting critical thinking. So, be careful.

I have to say, emotions are not the be all end all of a situation. You cannot undo what you feel, but you can move on from it and do what's need to be done regarding the situation. Like now, the state of my laptop (i'm gonna cry again, wah!) would get in the way of my creative process. I have to save my files in the disks soon, before my laptop parts get dismembered (the part that connects the monitor and keyboard is in bad shape, maybe because someone dropped it and just afraid to own the shit, or its better days are over [insert sad emoticon]). I gotta be ready before this baby will bid me goodbye after five years. There is no such thing as forever. #Hugot