Monday, March 31, 2008

starter holes

hammering nails into concrete is difficult.
just spent the last hour or so doing it.
hung up some bamboo window coverings in my bedroom.
discovered the beauty of the starter hole...

these last few weeks have been difficult to say the least.
have really been going thru the wringer.
i spent the better part of holy week at a workshop on life work at ginhawa house.
a very intense three nights, three days.

much healing happened.
clarity reclaimed.
sacred contracts discovered.
perspectives shifted.
perceptions, too.

went to some really painful, shadow places...
and came out the other end...
more whole...
more me.

was an interesting parallel, and the symbolism that it took place during holy week is not lost on me.
in fact, good friday, was the hardest day for me.
full moon, too.
i think this is the first time that i really understand the significance of Easter.
befitting of a christ year, if do say so, myself.

have realized that i'll likely be here in the Philippines longer than i thought..
i thought i would be a year.
then it was a year and some.
then two.
now, i'm thinking, i'll be here until i am supposed to be somewhere else.

has been quite difficult for me to claim that fully.

during my inward time at the workshop, i received some powerful insights regarding my future that i attribute as being messages from the spirit world.

as i type this, i wonder how to share this, if i should share it.

how do i hold this kind of information responsibly?
do i regard it as "real"?
that is, do i actually base my life decisions on it?
does it really just speak to my innermost desires and wishes?
the ones that i am not yet able or wanting to claim as truly mine?
or is it merely symbolic?
and then if so, am i distorting the message by taking it so literally?

this line of questioning comes directly from my own experience.
i know someone here that last year received some powerful insights from the spirit world regarding the future.
she chose to share it with me and others.
she spoke of it as if it were so real.
like there was no alternate future.
in her words, "a done deal."
she expected me to fastly make some pretty major life decisions based on the info that she gave to me.

i made (and make) my decisions based on the gamut of information available to me.
i am also guided by my instincts, my higher Self, my intuition.

her insights did not come to fruition, and i am so relieved that i did not get too "carried away" by them.

and, because of this, i have learned an important lesson about trust.
and discernment.
and impact.
and responsibility.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

mt. arayat

i saw the sun rise three times over mt. arayat this morning.
i cried it was so beautiful.

been talking to that mountain lately on my frequent trips on the nlex, back and forth from manila and prado.
been meaning to google his story.
he is such a handsome mountain.
the mountains here speak to me.
makiling last year.
makilala next month.
mayon last year.
now arayat.

i locked myself out of my room last night, right before i was supposed to meet maryan for dinner in clark.
grr.

i couldn't find a locksmith.
it was already 7pm, so even if i did find one, they would be closed...

found some wire leftover from when they installed internet, and tried to pick the lock for half an hour.
was doing a poor imitation of what i'd seen in movies.
no luck.
am thinking that this is a skill i would like to have.
another thing to google.

i had my car keys naman.
just not the clinic keys nor the padlock for the gate.
had to make the decision to leave the clinic or stay.

bought a new padlock for the gate and sent a simple plea to the ether to keep the clinic safe while i was gone.
paki-bantay lang po.

met dita and maryan at zapata's.
it's this mexican food place that transports me back to california, whenever i'm there.
when i'm there, i can be in a taqueria in san diego or l.a.
decor, taste...
complete with white folks even.
weird.
and a little disturbing.
that's something to get used to because of the proximity to clark.
lots of foreigners here paired up with young pinays.

anyway, the food IS good.
not quite la taqueria on 25th and mission in san francisco or that other place i used to go to near gilman in berkeley.
but, pretty darn good.
best i've had here.
just don't get the fish tacos.
trust me on this one.

after zapata's, we headed to the swiss chalet and ate again.
:)
i love kampampangans.
honestly, the most common way i'm greeted, especially when i'm in prado, is "kumain ka na ba?" (have you eaten yet?)
at swiss chalet, we ate beef fondue and rahmschnitzel.
long meandering, and at times, very animated, conversations that flowed from kampampangan to taglish to english to tagalog on topics that ranged from jun lozado, love lives, callings, parenting, tv shows, relationships, family...
kept up, me and my 75% comprehension.
revealed to them that i was once married.
that's always a good conversation...

it's so interesting to go to these restaurants.
always a mixed crowd.
very close to the red light district in angeles kasi.

at 2am, we dropped off Dita at her house in villa teresa.
Maryan invited me to stay the night at bale dutung.
woke up the next morning early, early.
as usual.

as i drove home, the sun was rising.
along the macarthur highway, i passed groups of young men dressed in maroon robes and barefoot.
they were carrying huge crosses on their backs, their hands tied.
there must have been at least 50.
i also saw barechested men, flagellating themselves as they walked along side.
their backs were still whole, not yet bleeding.

so many feelings get churned up for me around this holy week.
i've certainly not experienced anything like this before.
filipinos know suffering.
is this the suffering that leads to more suffering?
or is it the suffering that leads to freedom?
turning this over in my head and heart.
i have such a strong reaction to the physical pain.
i remember feeling the same thing when reading parts of Katrin's kapwa.

the other day, when i drove into madapdap from prado, there was a young boy with a cross strapped to his back. he was surrounded by 30 or 40 other little boys who jeered at him as he fell. it was heartbreaking to witness. and i was in Pipsy, protected, somewhat safe. i would prolly cry my eyes out if i were actually on the street with them. the heat and dust. the sacrifice. the energies.

does this child understand who he is, what he does? do the boys around him see that they are also playing a role? these are the little boys in my neighborhood who shout and run and climb the tree by the elementary school by the iglesia ni kristo. they are the ones that play this game where they throw and roll p5 coins. and walk with their arms around each other's shoulders as their tsinelas drag on the hot asphalt. they are the ones who buy cold water in plastic supots for 1 piso across the street at the bakery and drink them down by biting the corner of bag and drink as if they are nursing. they are the ones who draw their names in the dust on my car.

the pasyon is sung in kapampangan all night.
holy week is such an intense experience.
especially for this christ year of mine.
i knew there was a reason that i found myself locked out of my room last night.

it triggered another profound series of events.
i never thought i would see the sun rise 3 times.
first time red.
the second orange.
the third yellow.

thank you Universe.
/|\

Saturday, March 15, 2008

panyo

took me like 15 minutes to fold a handkerchief kanina.
the corners wouldn't match up.
had a hard time just letting it be.
letting it go.

did my laundry this morning.
it's a kind of meditation, and i appreciate the process.

i sort my dirty clothes in piles.
pants, t-shirts, little things, towels, malong, etc.

i like to rotate what i wash.
(mostly because my arms get tired.)

pants (big thing) first.
then underwear (little thing).
then t-shirt (medium thing).

or sometimes medium, big, little.
depende sa mood ko.

as i wash each item, i remember what i did the day i wore it.
then, my mind spins off into another place.

after it's rinsed and partially wrung out, it soaks in water with softener.
then, wring, wring wring.
hang it up, inside out.
alikabok kasi.

drip, drip, drip.
the water is hard here in madapdap.
and a bit rusty.
my clothes are a little stiff when they are dry.

then folding.
sorting.
i sniff them as i fold and pile.
earlier, it was mixture of downy and cigarette smoke from a man smoking in front.

i actually have an iron.
i hardly use it.
way back in the day, i remember ironing my nursing uniforms while watching The Matrix.
seems like such a long time ago.
ages.
lifetimes.
it's only been about 5 years.

funny, cause when i think about it, i was actually in the matrix, as i ironed those uniforms.
wasn't long after that i unplugged.

i remember when i first saw that movie.
my eyes got all round and big.
the matrix is real.

now, i live in the real world.
and sometimes i wish for a bite of that steak.

especially lately.

funny also because even when i give myself permission to have a bit of that steak, it doesn't taste as good as i remember.

it's just familiar.
and predictable.
and, therefore, safe.

nowhere to hide lately.
Universe is shaking my cosmic tree.
anything in the way of my clarity, my freedom, my awakening is being shaken loose.

again.

will ride my bike to the monastary tomorrow morning.
palm sunday mass for my christ year.

Monday, March 10, 2008

pinatay

my neighbor died last week.
i didn't know her.
i didn't even know she died.

when i came home on saturday, there was tent set up next door.
many, many people milling about.
they stay all night.

Pipsy is parked in front of the clinic.
once, i looked out the window, and she was covered with kids.
what to do?

i've been away for the last two days.
i want to go over and pay my respects.
and i am shy.

want to bring over some food.
but what?
maybe some hopia from the bakery across the street.

i am feeling a moderate amount of resistance in going over there.
i know i will regret it if i don't.
shy and resistant, i will go tomorrow morning, before clinic.

inward

have been feeling a bit inward lately.
the din of manila is diffficult for me.
am really wanting to limit my time there.
been feeling so sensitive and sensitive to energies lately.

this Awakening...
have been finding solace in music.
have been wearing out some songs lately.
saw the movie "Once" the other day.
good one about karmic relationships.
and the soundtrack has been playing ever since.

"falling slowly
eyes that know me
and i can't go back..."

my fingers are sore, as i've been playing guitar lately.

"you have sufferred enough
and warred with yourself.
it's time that you won..."

was in manila on friday.
met with Aisa, and received the level I reiki attunements.
unable to really write about it right now.
still integrating kasi
afterwards, i slept at the ginhawa house.
spent time with my friend Leah saturday morning.

saturday evening back at madapdap.
organized my kitchen.
finally.
bought organic goodness a number of different places.
Pipsy and i traveled all over.
apparently, there is one place in all of manila that one can buy filo dough.
(Santi's btw, in makati)
bought some for sunday.

Simmi donated her fridge when she left to go back to canada.
having a ref has changed my life!
kinda like having Pipsy.

have been craving spanokopita.
gathered up all the ingredients, packed them with ice.
and headed to prado.

before prado, met Claude, Maryan, and Reimon at the famous Everybody's Cafe in san fernando for lunch.
i love kampampangan food.
hands down.
those three could very well be my favorite eating partners.

what didn't we eat?
sinigang.
fresh lumpia made with green papaya.
grilled tilapia with the mustard leaves and fermented rice sauce.
crickets adobo. (i know...crazy, but i loved this.)
murcon with the drippings. (naku. my fave.)
paksiw ng bangus with chicharon and claude's special toyo concoction. (a winning combo.)
stuffed frogs. (i know, again.)
crispy duck.
chicharon bulaklak.
fresh mangga.
and chocolate, ah.

what a feast.

then a quiet sunday at prado.
taught Manang and Ate Winnie how to make spanokopita and hummus.
that was fun, and we laughed and laughed.
discovered Rilke's letters to a young poet.
dear Mr. Kappus...
gorgeous.

will be traveling back and forth to manila again this week.
not really wanting to make the trips, but i understand it is my choice...

am a bit behind in my paperwork.
both for this Center and my other one.
will be a productive week, i hope.

the sunken cathedral

three weeks ago i attended a workshop at prado on the 12 Senses.

Cha played this Debussy piece on the piano and told us the story behind it.

i can't remember it exactly, and when i google it, the legend of Ys comes up.

the story i remember from the workshop is different.

there was a very unique cathedral, situated in a town, near the sea.
and at the same time of day, everyday, it rises up out of the water.
and at the end of the day, everyday, it sinks back down into the water.
for whatever reason, it does this.

the cathedral is beautiful.
and ornate.
and catches the light.
it is an integral part of the community.

as Cha and Reimon told the story, i drifted off into my own thoughts and imagination. Cha began to play and when i heard this haunting piece of music, i was lost in another world.

in my mind's eye, i saw this cathedral rise up, up, up out of the water.
saw how the water gave way, spilled out of the door, high windows, and belltower.
and the fish always knew when to scatter.
heard the underwater scraping noise as the bedrock groaned, as once again, it made this journey upwards.

i saw a small brown girl who loved this place.
her parents were charged with its upkeep.
and everyday, her father and mother would go to the place were the cathedral would rise and patiently wait.
when it had risen, her parents would meticulously clean and dry all of the pews, paying special attention to the alter.
the floors must be dried.
any errant seaweed would be removed.
any sea creatures hidden in the corners, would be tossed back into the sea.
as an infant, the girl was strapped to her mother's back, as her mother arranged the alter cloth.

as a toddler, she would sit on the pew that was dried first by her father.
everyday, she would be allowed to pick which one would be first.
she would ask her father questions about birds and fishes, while he worked.
her chubby legs would swing to and fro as she prattled on with her questions.
when she sensed her father was tired of her asking and asking, she entertained herself by singing songs about rocks that she would make up on the spot. or would think of the flowers they passed in the morning. or would lay down for a nap, as it was so early that they had to wake up every morning. the saltwater had long worn away the varnish on the wooden pew. the waterlogged wood was swollen, yet smooth. and it smelled like the sea.

the townspeople knew to wait until both doors were opened wide before they could enter to pray.
and as soon as the girl was strong enough to push them open, this was her job.

there was no priest or preacher.
and there hadn't been one in a very long time.
the townspeople got along without one.

for whatever reason, the girl does not accompany her parents to prepare the cathedral for it's daily sinking.
and she has many questions as to why the cathedral rose and sunk everyday.
she asked her parents.
she asked her neighbors.
she asked the elders.
none of their answers satisfied her.

she loved the cathedral so much.
it was so beautiful
and so special to her.
she was in awe of its ability to rise and fall, every single day.
she wanted to know what happened to it after it sunk.

where did it go?
why did it go?
was is lonely?
did it miss her?
does it have to sink everyday?
will there ever be a time when it will not rise again?

no one could answer these questions.

so, the girl stole away from her parents, one early evening, just before the cathedral was to return to the depths of the sea.
everyday, her parents would make sure that everyone was cleared out at least one hour before the sinking.
all the linens were folded neatly and taken out.
candles were extinguished.
the pews were put together and secured.
the doors were locked tight.

but the girl had taken the key from her father's pocket when he wasn't looking.
she unlocked the heavy door and pushed it open.
she closed it again.
the cathedral was dark.
she was not used to seeing it so dark.

when the sinking began, she didn't notice it right away.
she was softly singing to herself, and it happened so slowly.
she was sitting on her favorite pew, and it started to float.
the girl was fascinated.
finally, she would be able to stay with her cathedral and see what happened to it after it sunk.

and then she was scared.
she had realized the enormity of what she had done.
and she tried to unlock the door and get out.
but she couldn't.
she died by drowning.

i remember the shock i felt when i "woke up" from my hazy vision.
i was so disturbed by it.
was wondering where on earth did this come from?
what a story...
her death saddened me so.
it stirred up so many feelings in me.
felt so protective over her.
and bewildered.
could actually feel her panic as the doors would not open.
felt so badly for her parents, for the townspeople.
could imagine their guilt and profound grief.

then i came to another startling realization.
many lifetimes ago, i was that little girl.

there's a lot here.
this vision says a lot about letting go.
and letting go.
and letting go.
and letting go.
and trust.
and trust.
and trust.
and trust.
and communication.
and love.
and Love.
and teaching.
and learning.
and the importance of seeing how things begin...
and how they end.
appreciating the cycle.

with my death as this little girl, i started on this journey of Awakening.
each subsequent lifetime brings me closer and closer to just that.
i have chosen each time the circumstances to be born into, with the intention of furthering me along.

it is in this lifetime that i will finally wake up.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

back

it's a question i get a lot.

"when are you going (coming) back?"

i don't know.
i don't know when i'll know.

i do know that it is not yet the time to go back.

it's difficult for me to tell folks this.
especially people that care about me, that need me.

this is also a teaching and learning.
it would be easy to slip into a productive life of Service when i go back.
there is no lack of work to do to help heal.

i am not yet healed.
not enough yet.
to be sure, healing.
pero kulang pa eh.

and it has become clear again that the Universe is asking me to refine my discernment.
why is it again that you've come?
are you doing what you've come here for?
if you aren't, where did you detour?
and why?
and was it, is it, worth it?

feeling more and more comfortable here.
still hit some bumps and have my share of ups and downs.
but they are settling down a bit, and don't swing so violently anymore.

i've adopted Pampanga as my home province.
we've taken quite a liking to one another.
am grateful to feel her embrace.

met the governor a couple of weeks ago, at the Luid Ka! book launch.
such an inspiring campaign and election.
am reminded of the nature of the Pilipino.
passionate, loving, cooperative, fierce...

i used my last $2000 and bought a car.
i call her Pipsy.
my cousin named her Pepsi, because she is that same shade of blue.
medyo matanda na siya. 1995 eh.
kia din.
pride pala.
(there's this line in one of my secret favorite piolo-juday movies, "don't give up on us." they are bickering back and forth. and suplada juday says, "excuse me, may pride ako." sometimes when i see Pipsy, i recall that scene, and i think, "ako din...may pride ako!")

my cousin has been so helpful in helping me fix Pipsy.
he knows about cars. driver din siya.
and a really good teacher.
super patient.
so glad that i learned how to drive a stickshift back in the day.
if i had to learn that on top of learning how to drive in Manila...patay.

driving here can be fun.
no rules kasi.
stop signs seem like mere suggestions.
as are the lines on the road. suggestions of lanes.
no street signs.
land of the unmarked u-turn slots.
don't get me started on the quezon city circle...
i get lost all the time and somehow find my way again.
i like the independence that i have with a car.
i like that i can drive here.
it's quite an accomplishment.
my parents were worried about me driving.
my mother insists that i drive only in the daytime...
i like that i know how to commute.
i like that i know how to take the provincial bus.
and the jeeps.
and the fx.
and the city bus.

it is getting harder and harder to spend any significant amount of time in manila.
it's too...much.
more later...clinic is about to start.