right down

am at Bahay Kalipay, using Pi's wittle ittle computer.
precarious and tempermental little cutie (the computer, that is.)
it's ergonomically challenging to use it.
one false move and the cord LAN line gets disconnected.
just look at it cross-eyed, and you'll see.
the power cord is plugged into an outlet above my head that likes to fall out of the socket and bonk me.

aray ko.
and, i'm sitting on this narrow bamboo couch, contorting 'cause why again...

kasi, naka-adik na ako sa facebook.
and i wanted to check my gmail.
and i wanted to check fares to iloilo (next trip).
and, and, and.

got this Junot Diaz quote from my friend Michelle's fb status:

'Immigration is a process that tends to self-select certain kinds of people, which is a way of saying that immigrants tend to be superhuman already. To leave everything behind takes a superhuman act of will, even for those who did it accidentally or flippantly.'

i get this one. right down to my bones.
i think about my parents and all they've endured.
i think of me and all that i've endured.
immigrant.
yes, i am an immigrant.
it's a label that i've eschewed for most of my life.
part of my decolonization process has been reclaiming it.
not celebrating it or abhoring it.
not embracing it or pushing it away.
just accepting it.
letting it in finally...
to take her rightful place.

it should be noted that my process in accepting it involved celebrating it and embracing it as well as abhoring and pushing it away. the only way i could find the middle was, first, to define the boundaries. or does the middle define the boundaries. sometimes. and, in this case, in particular, i did it baliktad.

i think about finding Home.
what home is.
what Home is.

i think about my Path.
and how a lot of it has been about renunciation.
not in a derelict or violent way.
or even showy or martyr-flavored.

all the labels and identities need to be put down, so that it is clear if they are meant to be taken up again.
even how they are to be taken up again.
it's been an interesting journey.

i realize that i have been somewhat influenced by this insidious misconception that this 'annihilation' of sorts is violent and somehow final.

it's not.
nothing lasts.

i have to be willing to put it all down.
so that i know what makes sense to pick up again.

what i pick up i can re-shape, re-imagine so that it is more useful and intentional.
this kind of tinkering implies a deeper process of knowing myself, knowing the stuff i'm made of. knowing what i inherited. knowing what i developed. knowing what is actual and useful and actually useful. and knowing what is just drama.

what a big, big learning.
what a shift.
what a life.