"It is true that those we meet can change us, sometimes so profoundly that we are not the same afterwards, even unto our names."
-Yann Martel, Life of Pi
Yann Martel is right, not just because it's a music to my ears to be called as 'babe' by my nine other babes and that became as one of my endearing names, but more so, because I know I had went through another life-transforming experience. And if there is something that I had decided to value the same as my entirety, then that would be memories that I will cherish forever and memories I would continue to add.
Undeniably, all of my travel has been revealing something different or new in me, in others and in this world. But some of my travel could really just change me enormously and personally. Some travel like that of Sagada, Mountain Province which we did last December 21-26, 2012 have really given me something which I could not accurately describe at the moment. How I wish I would come to that moment in which I could finally be authentically free to express how different it has been since then, but just let me put it this way: that it had then brought sense of novelty into my life. And the call for change gets stronger each day as the travel continues and even after I’m already back home. It was so strong that no matter how hard I try to resist it, I just find myself giving in.
I
had seen change to be just a latent function of that travel. It is something
not intended, something that happened spontaneously and it has been that
intense that it had made me ask myself now the tricky questions of ‘what if’s’
and ‘what if I did not.’ But certainly, there has been no moment of that trip
to be regretful about. Every moment has just been so precious, so priceless and
wonderfully placed that despite lack of financial resources and all the other
hassles, it has been very successful and one of the bests I ever had.
In
my case and in the case of some who haven’t joined any meeting about that trip
too, planning just happened through face book group chat. And I tell you, if
there was a venue in which changes has initially been so usual to take place,
then in its there. It is in there where dates have been subjected to much
change. It is in there where people who will be joining have been subjected to
episodes of ambiguities until ten souls become finally all set to go. And I
think those moments, no matter how informal they have seem to be, and no matter
how it could be such overwhelming to be flooded with unread conversations and
other notifications, are actually moments not of coincidences but moments of a
beautiful beginnings. One can name that destiny, but I call it life. It was a
beginning of something beautiful within, amongst, around, and beyond me and
that of the nine other souls.
And
days went on along with our busy schedules that the next thing we knew it, we
are already about to go. One of my earliest reflections then came on the
specifics of ‘getting there.’ We have so many instances for sure, too, in our
lives in which we have been so focused on the ‘being there’ with expectations
of seeing these or feeling that once you’ll get there, but has actually given
less attention on how will you actually reach that destination. We were so
excited talking about what we will do and where we will go, but missed agreeing
on the efficient way of departing from crowded Manila. Lesson learned the
hardest way, I guessed. But to make some anxiety-causing turns in Pedro Gil and
to be struck with traffic on the way to the terminal is something not be
dreaded at as it did not spoil any piece of exhilaration but just added unto
it, and though it had fragmented the souls, the goal of meeting each other on a
common ground made the ‘getting there’ just ceremoniously as it could ever be.
Because
the conversation has been so limited to gadgets and minds speaking through touches, taps or clicks, it is understandable to have that impulse to be
loud inside the bus--where we stayed for almost fourteen hours; to talk among each other in volume other people aside from us
can hear--- and in our case, doesn’t want to hear. To be silent therefore, is a
big effort but for the sake of respect and all the other elements of being
considerate beings, we have to start closing our eyes, and patiently, wait for
the right time to speak out again.
Something
I had loved in long night trips is that sense of getting somewhere in times of
darkness (I think in life, I had some tendency to be an escapist sometimes when
I could no longer figure out the way out--- but don't you worry, most of the time i faced them courageously). You could skip the hassles caused by
rush-hours, and it’s as if no time is being wasted for you can just get
yourself some sleep whether you like it or not. You just got to do something
else--- eat, listen to love songs mostly from 80’s or try to practice some
deepness you have within by simply thinking. But just like in life, you’ve got
to sacrifice something when you choose the other. Just like the views we had
passed by unto and then missed. And don’t bother asking me what I had failed to
see. Though I did not sleep all the time, there I was spending the rest
traveling hours eating, listening to music and all the more---trying to be
deeper than I should be, thinking of recurrent thoughts, even though I am tired
of thinking. Oh, Sagada, will you change me please?
Yet
God has always been so good that even in the darkest moments of your life, He
will always give you candles to light your way. Having good company is truly a
blessing and they are more than enough to lift up your broken spirit. And if
one will develop too, that gift of appreciation, no matter how shattered you
feel within, you will be obviously comforted with what’s around. And the next
time you open your eyes, after some stop-overs, and series of body-twisting bus
turns in what-seemed-to-be-endless cliffs, you’ll be welcomed by a piece of
heaven on Earth where mountains were natural sights and the coldness would make
you just want to wear four shirts at once.
What
took you so long in finishing Sagada reflection Richelle? I asked myself, and
since I could not fool her, I admitted that its when every time I finally sit
down to do it (in between of massive paper works of a social worker), and then
would try to get more inspiration from the pictures we have in that trip, I
found myself enjoying that much in looking at them. And there were more than
half a thousand photographs! And each picture speaks more than what it could
ever show. Each picture revives some emotions--- emotions which you just love
to feel again and again... So, instead of writing, I found myself just looking
at each picture and if my eyes and my heart could just do the writing for me,
then they could have recorded a lot--- beyond what my time and my words would
allow me.
For it is not all the time that we can walk as carefree as that, it is not all the time that we can have deepest sharings; it is not all the time that jokes and serious topics synergize; it is not all the time you get to witness tribal dancing and wish you are brave enough to do it too (or you were pushed by someone else to do it); it is not all the time you hear echoes bouncing back to you; it is not all the time that you get to watch Twilight movies series after series with friends; it is not all the time that you get to feel that having smaller bills is better than having higher denominations; it is not all the time that you wake up with a cup of coffee ready to warm you; it is not all the time that you have motherly, sisterly and brotherly home-cooked meals; it is not all the time you can go out and pick for vegetables along the way; it is not all the time that you feel so accomplished just because charcoals finally heated up each other; it is not all the time you celebrate Christmas greeting strangers in the streets , looking for coffee and beer; it is not all the time that you talk about love (and pain---but yes, happinesss too); And to writers' come too, a moment in which they couldn't find fitting words to explain the warmth of local people and the connections among the spirits and elements of the earth and beyond (remember our first night ladies in which we slept with thoughts of false-alarm ghosts?) It was the connection which we had witnessed in Lumiang Cave and in Hanging Coffins. Yeah, it is not all the time you have moments like those and you knew that the moment you all return to your respective homes and then take separate lives again, you just don't know when will you have them again. Or will we ever have them again if change will always be there to come into scenes? Then there I was getting that feeling I don't want to feel anymore, but at the same time grateful because it had pushed me out of my dysphoria; then caught distressed again knowing I had put myself in another i-don't-want-to-think-about-that-situation. There was then I, becoming hopeful that if change would always come across, then let it handle it.Perhaps, feelings will change? Will it? Then I'll just trust memories again to make me happy with recollections, and then ask time again to just heal me when I start feeling pain again. Oh yes, you had changed me Sagada, you did, in ways I never imagine you could...
For it is not all the time that we can walk as carefree as that, it is not all the time that we can have deepest sharings; it is not all the time that jokes and serious topics synergize; it is not all the time you get to witness tribal dancing and wish you are brave enough to do it too (or you were pushed by someone else to do it); it is not all the time you hear echoes bouncing back to you; it is not all the time that you get to watch Twilight movies series after series with friends; it is not all the time that you get to feel that having smaller bills is better than having higher denominations; it is not all the time that you wake up with a cup of coffee ready to warm you; it is not all the time that you have motherly, sisterly and brotherly home-cooked meals; it is not all the time you can go out and pick for vegetables along the way; it is not all the time that you feel so accomplished just because charcoals finally heated up each other; it is not all the time you celebrate Christmas greeting strangers in the streets , looking for coffee and beer; it is not all the time that you talk about love (and pain---but yes, happinesss too); And to writers' come too, a moment in which they couldn't find fitting words to explain the warmth of local people and the connections among the spirits and elements of the earth and beyond (remember our first night ladies in which we slept with thoughts of false-alarm ghosts?) It was the connection which we had witnessed in Lumiang Cave and in Hanging Coffins. Yeah, it is not all the time you have moments like those and you knew that the moment you all return to your respective homes and then take separate lives again, you just don't know when will you have them again. Or will we ever have them again if change will always be there to come into scenes? Then there I was getting that feeling I don't want to feel anymore, but at the same time grateful because it had pushed me out of my dysphoria; then caught distressed again knowing I had put myself in another i-don't-want-to-think-about-that-situation. There was then I, becoming hopeful that if change would always come across, then let it handle it.Perhaps, feelings will change? Will it? Then I'll just trust memories again to make me happy with recollections, and then ask time again to just heal me when I start feeling pain again. Oh yes, you had changed me Sagada, you did, in ways I never imagine you could...
So now awesome souls, my babes, where are we entrusting our next life-changing experience?
One of the joys of growing old is reading about the adventures of young persons like you who are discovering so much, who can enjoy a 14-hour overnight bus trip and get some sleep. (I've never been able to sleep on a bus or on a plane). And reading about developing friendships, that eating isn't just about replenishing our bodies, though that is a vital part of it, but is about relationships. We can't understand the Mass as either a meal or sacrifice if we don't know what meals and friendship are. God bless you, Richelle!
ReplyDeleteThank you papa Sean! Your comments are always inspiring me to reflect on my experiences and to continue expressing my thoughts through writing. I really like what you said papa that we can't understand the mass as either a meal or sacrifice if we don't know what meals and friendship are! Let me re-post your comment in facebook papa so that my friends can read it too... Thank you! God bless you too... I love you! :)
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