tightness

i woke up an hour ago.
psoas tight.
knot in my throat.
wanna sob.

home here.
home there.
Home everywhere.

a fellow Healer died a week ago.
our lives intertwined.

desperate need for integration time.
feeling desperate.

release.

Dolores and the toxins

i’m about to live yesterday all over again.
which may not be necessarily a bad thing.
(like a do-over.)

we just crossed the international date line.
and according to the screen thingy, only 5 hours and 3,042 miles left ‘til we land in san francisco.

and, in case you are wondering, we are cruising at 37,000 feet with an outside temperature of -67 degrees Fahrenheit, with a true airspeed of 537 mph. an airplane is a hellava place to detox (more on this later).

perhaps i really needed this kind of altitude to properly get some perspective on how these last weeks have unfolded.
(i just had a flash of Pi climbing his coconut trees. what a view!)

before i go further, i’d just like to say whoever named PAL coach the “fiesta class” is a rather sardonic, ironic type. and i’d like to smack him around a bit. the only fiesta-like thing about coach is how we’re all crammed in here like it’s barrio fiesta. i should know, because sta. rita just had our fiesta time. in “fiesta” class there are no yummy things to eat. no shiny banners. nor tuba players. nor parades. and for me (and the rest of unfortunate row # 61), at least on PR Flight No. 104 on the 9th of June, MNL to SFO, there is no overhead reading light, no flight attendant call button, no sound, no movies, nor crappy airline radio. the panels are busted.

and, rest assured,i will be writing a strongly worded letter to PAL after this (titani homage to jack). maybe i can get a service upgrade or some mabuhay miles.

i hope i get something.

because for 12 hours, i can’t read nor write nor watch the movies nor listen to pinoy pop, nor j-pop, nor broadway favorites on PAL radio. thank goodness i really had no interest in the movies offered (pink panther 2, B cop movie, hotel for dogs, and one other that i forget.) if it had been the reader or some sappy tagalog romance, i might of transformed into the ugly American. and thank goodness i had Poddie ni Muki with me, so i could hear some sounds.

other saving graces have been the lola and lolo sitting next to me, to my right.
and the chubby toddler sitting in front of me.

the lola and lolo are immigrating to the states.
they look to me in their 70’s or nearing them.
when Lola Dolores told me they are moving to the states, i unexpectedly felt a deep sadness. her tone of voice suggested excitement. her facial expression din. but her eyes reflected a deep sadness. like everything was trying to convince her eyes to go along. i glimpsed it tho. i had just read earlier somewhere today that the eyes are the window of the soul. i’ve heard that before, of course. and, i don’t think i quite understood it like this. i could be spinning it any which way, coloring this experience with my own thoughts and feelings, but, i don’t think so. those dark glistening eyes of hers showed me something, for a moment, in a moment.

Lola Dolores had just gotten off the phone with her relatives in Nueva Viscaya.
i heard her saying to her apo, “Anak, dapat mag-aral ka mabuti. listen to your Ate. Love you. Love you. Love you so much. Love. Love. Love. See you.”

when she said, “See you,” i could hear in her voice that she didn’t really believe herself either.

she calls me “Anak” through the flight.
i help her open the packets of coffee creamer and fill out the forms we have to fill out when we enter the US. i show her how to unlock her cell phone so that she can properly turn it off.

i like being called “Anak” by her. it’s soothing, in a way, to both of us. kanina, her husband dropped his ring on the floor in the middle of the flight, and with no lights, it wasn’t much fun trying to find it. but, we found it.

i wanted to ask her why they were moving to the states.
they are past working age.
the daughter that they plan to live with is single, with no children, and no plans to marry.
how does she feel about leaving the Philippines?
what does she anticipate?
what are her expectations?
why, why, why?

but, i was shy.
and something in her eyes asked me not ask.
or maybe that’s just me.

the chubby toddler in front of me has such a round face.
and the cutest straight little white teeth.
he shows them all off when he smiles at me.
which, i am happy to report, is often.
he must be 3 going on 4.
his dad looks Korean or Japanese.
his mom is Pinay.

before i got on the flight, i decided to get a massage at the airport.
mahal (by Philippine standards), very inexpensive (by US standards), AND so worth it, imho.
i had this really, super duper, skilled massage therapist.
he worked me out.
in the last two weeks, these wicked muscle knots have taken up residence in my shoulders.
strange.
this hasn’t happened in like 2 years or so.
and, i’m reminded, that i am cleansing.
i completed my Level II Reiki training a couple of weeks ago.
and lately, i’ve been doing a lot of Reiki healing with myself and with others.
so, i’m clearing, and i guess that’s where those things are coming from.
i drank so much water after that massage to help flush the toxins.
no joke, i must have gone to the bathroom 20 times on this flight.
(it’s all about the aisle seat…)
a couple of times, i got really nauseated and almost threw up from air turbulance and who knows what else?
prolly that crappy little sandwich i ate in the mabuhay lounge.
and, yah, maybe the toxins.

swine flu

i'm sitting in the mabuhay lounge at ninoy aquino airport in manila.
arroz caldo (yum) and dry bread-soggy filling sandwiches (blech).

all of these rich kid pinoy types to my right.
mestizo looks.
hipster clothing.
american accents.
floppy hair.
latest apple computers and PSP thingys.

older folks to my left.
paring chinoys.
matching luggage and garment bags.
sitting quietly.
arms folded.

someone's cell phone has the same ring tone as me.
it confuses me.

there are some people wearing surgical masks.
swine flu.
there was talk of delaying the start of classes in manila because of the swine flu.
jodie texted the other day saying that everyone is panicking about swine flu.
i texted back how we are rather excitable, as a people.

i haven't been infected with the hysteria.
i think it's because i haven't been watching tv.
(i don't have one.)
also, i haven't been listening to the radio.
(i don't have one of those either.)

so, i hadn't heard.

Pips

it’s 2:29am, and i was awoken by lightning. or some kind of flashes of light.
some outside of my window. some in my bedroom. some in the sala.

i don’t know what they were.
if they were in my dream.
or if they were ‘real.’
curiously, i’m not feeling scared.
or even really wanting to know what they heck they were.
anyway, i’m awake.
and, i’m following the impulse to write this.

it’s the 5th straight day of rain.
i’m a little stir crazy.
i’ve gone out just once to fetch water and go to the palengke.
otherwise, i’ve been home.
cleaning.
spending too much time on facebook.
mentally packing for my trip on tuesday.
watching movies on my laptop.
reading.
writing.
cooking.
i made sopas yesterday.
i used the bones from the lechon manok i bought the night i came home from baguio to make chicken stock.
i bought carrot, celery, onions, and garlic from the palengke the other day.
i had evaporated milk and macaroni in the pantry.
and just for kicks, i added a beaten egg to the whole thing.
yum.
it’s perfect soup weather.
and pan-toasted pan de sal.

i made pancakes, too.
there’s this chain of stores here called ‘healthy options.’
there’s only like 7 of them in the whole country. 2 are in Pampanga.
it has all of these organic products from the states.
soymilks, nutmilks, paul newman stuff, red mill stuff, kettle chips, dagoba chocolate, real maple syrup, Jason beauty products, couscous, homeopathic remedies, etc.
it’s pretty expensive, even by US standards, and i am grateful that there exists such a place; i gladly plunk down my money when i need a fix.
i bought this 12 wholegrain extra chu-chu fiber pancake mix some months ago.
it’s almost gone na.
and i made 3 pancakes for dinner last night.
i have enough mix i think for 3 or 4 more pancakes.


for morning merienda, i cut up an apple.
and ate it with peanut butter.
and not Ludy’s or Lily’s. too much sugar.
i had this peanut butter i got at rizal dairy when i went to visit Jodie that one time.
no sugar. just peanuts.
it’s fairly thick because i keep in the ref.

all my spoons and forks and knives i use here are made of bamboo.
some were given to me by Simha before i left. some i bought when i was in Japantown last year during one of the many visits i made to the states.
i remember the surprise when one morning, this peanut butter snapped one of the knives.
i was so sad and i remember thing, “o, sayang yung $2 ko.”
so, i know to use the sturdy bamboo knife with this peanut butter.

i haven’t spent this much time at home here for a long while.
even when i am home, i go to san fernando or angeles for something or another.
usually to my favorite yogurt place. (they also have free HIGH SPEED wi-fi.)
and i get to drive on the megadike road to get there, which is my favorite road to drive.
or i go to sm.
or northwalk.
basta, i get in my car, Pipsy, and we drive.

i haven’t been able to do this since i got back from Baguio.
i haven’t been able to do this because…
Sherwin wrecked Pipsy.
that’s why i was so upset the other day.

why i was:
angry
rageful
okay
accepting
tearful
sad
homicidal
fine
numb
worried
nauseated
ek
ek.

Sherwin is my neighbor.
he is the son of my landlady.
when i’m gone, he watches Pipsy for me.
and, i’m gone a lot.
Rowell says when i am gone, he sees Pipsy all around Sta. Rita.
that was fine.

but, the day that i decided to reluctantly descend from Baguio, i had the unfortunate experience of being called by Sherwin at 5am, telling me that he had gotten into an “accident” with Pipsy. i asked him if he was injured. he was fine daw. i asked him if anyone else was injured. he said no one else was involved. i couldn’t take in any more information than that. he said he was waiting for the tow truck. i sighed heavily; then told him we would talk about it when i got home. he kept repeating, “‘Censya na, Karen. ‘Censya na talaga.” i hung up my phone and was like, “well, that was a shitty way to wake up.” then, i tried to convince myself to try and sleep pa. that there was nothing really useful i could do about what had happened. but my mind was whirring.

what the HELL happened?
why did i trust Sherwin?
Pipsy! are you really gone?
are you totaled? beyond repair?
repairs. how much will they be?
i’m broke.
i just spent like P10,000 on registration, getting a tune up, fixing a tire rod end.
i’m so sorry i left you with Sherwin.
Pipsy! are you really gone?

2 days prior, i had an intuition that i didn’t want to leave Pipsy with Sherwin while i was in the states for a month. i texted my friend, Ella, and asked if i could leave her with them. we were in the middle of arranging the logistics when this happened.

and this really happened.
of course, i couldn’t sleep after i received the news.
i woke up.
and did distance reiki healing for Sherwin.
and Pipsy.
and then i did reiki on myself, because it was dawning on me how upset i was over this.
i think i was in denial as to how upset i was.
i’m still not really sure why.

i wanted to scream.
at who?
for what?
did i really want to scream?

i was so sad.
i think i even cried a little as i pulled my malong over my head.

immediately, i felt this guilt.
why, oh, WHY didn’t i listen to my gut feeling to NOT leave the keys with Sherwin.
i wasn’t going to.
i was only going to be gone a week.
Pips would have been fine without being started.
but then the Ate Shella, the sister of Sherwin was getting married while i was gone.
and, it would be helpful to their family, if they had a car to use.
it was fiesta pa, and she was parked all crazy because there were so many cars parked on our street.
so, against my better judgement, i left the keys.

i had many things to do before before coming back down to Sta. Rita, which would have been fine, if i weren’t feeling so crazy about what had happened with Pipsy.

i still had to visit my family (again) before i left to say goodbye (again).
(it was a funny last minute request from Tita Eddy that i decided to honor, because well, she asked. and she’s 75. and, well, you just never know…i might not ever see her again.)

i still had to pack up all my crap that was strewn all around the room i was staying in.
(ten ilocano blankets, alfajor, strawberry jam, ube jam, maps, books, clothes, etc.)

i still had to go to easter weaving room to buy last minute pasalubong.
(never did make it up to banaue and sagada, so i couldn’t buy the bags that my Teacher was requesting. so, i decided to get something kinda similar at easter weaving and hope for the best…)

i still had to write a thank you card to grace for a fantastic visit and letting me stay at her place, even when she was went to manila for 4 days.
(grace, true to her name, was a gracious hostess and excellent tour guide. we saw so much and ate so well. i had copies made of some of the pictures that we had taken together EVERYWHERE in Baguio. i couldn’t wait to give them to her. i bought this cute card made of flower petals and i had been drafting the words of how to express my gratitude for days.)

i still had to climb onto a genesis bus with all of my crap and ride 8 hours (traffic) from Baguio to Sta. Rita. i SO did not want to deal with this situation. that’s the crux of the thing right there. i felt blindsided. this was so NOT part of the plan.

and Pipsy, my poor sweet Pipsy.

perhaps this is a good time to explore these feelings that i have about this car.
yes, i realize it is a car.
a thing.

and here it is.
we have a relationship.
Pipsy kept me safe.
and sane.
we would have conversations together on our many long drives from one place to another.
she was my partner in crime.
especially when i lived in the clinic, she was the one safe place that i could climb into and feel…free. no clients could get at me. no crazy boss. no crazy relatives. no crazy friends. not even loneliness. Pipsy and i would ride out into the sunset. 75% of the time, her radio would work and i would rig up Poddie ni Muki, my ipod, and we would sing and drive.
and sing.
and drive.
we would go exploring together.
we would get lost together.
we would get found together.
we survived many near misses together.
we survived crazy weather.
we survived flat tires, dead batteries, oil leaks, etc.
we took care of each other.
when Sherwin said that he wasn’t injured, i thought, “well, it’s because Pipsy is a really good car and she protected him.”

i saw pictures of her after the accident.
it was a fucking miracle that Sherwin wasn’t injured, wasn’t killed.
he was driving drunk at 2am.
he hit a patch of water on the way home from guagua and skidded.
he swerved to avoid hitting a tricycle and slammed into an acacia tree.
daw.

that’s the whole sordid tale.
ah, not quite.
thankfully, Pipsy is fixable.
i’m not sure how.
but, she is.
and Sherwin’s family is able to pay for all of it.
it will take about a month for all of the repairs to be completed.
so, by the time i come back from the states, sana, she will be done.

i think, in the beginning, it was difficult for me to accept that i was so upset over a thing.
it was more than a thing tho.
it’s about relationship.
Pips and me.
Sherwin and me.
etc.

two nights ago, my phone rang.
my phone ring sounds like crickets chirping.
and, it’s not uncommon for me to think my phone is ringing when i hear actual crickets chirping.
and something should be said about how rare talaga it is for me hear my phone ring, let alone actually “talk” on my cell phone.
super duper, uber ultra, to the nth rare.
i use my cell phone primarily to text and keep track of dates.
and, lately, when my phone has been ringing, more often than not, it is after midnight, and more often than not, it has been because a certain crazy ilonggo boy just won’t stop.
but, anyway, my phone was ringing two nights ago, and i was sure it was this crazy ilonggo boy, but it wasn’t!

it was Jodie!

and we talked for well over an hour.
i had to plug in my phone.
there was this moment when i was listening to the sound of my voice talking.
it sounded strange because i realized that i hadn’t talked this much in days.
Rowell came over a couple of times. late, so we didn’t really talk too much.
i would greet my neighbors everyday, people on the street, as i walked.
my conversation with Sherwin about Pips was brief.
so, it was strange to hear my voice so much.

i always enjoy my conversations with Jodie.
they are always entertaining, enlightening.
and deep.
she is a good mirror.
and she is magical.

i’ve been noticing that i’ve been having trouble with verb tenses lately.
forget past participle, nominative case, etc.
i am just talking about simple past, present, and future tense.
i’ve been speaking and writing in present tense, even when i am referring to the past or future. it’s kinda strange because i’ve not really had trouble with that ever before.
and, i’ve had to edit this blog entry several times to get the tenses right.
weird.

i hear the rain again.
Gayia comes on sunday.
and we will go to the monastery near Madapdap to hear mass in latin and Gregorian chanting. then eat yummy food at Azur and C.
my place is 75% clean, thanks to my being home so much.
another 25% to go.
Mang Ado came over yesterday and we finally hung my bamboo blinds and got some art on the walls. this enlisted drill bits and concrete hanger thingys and a couple of hours. but, my place looks great. hard to believe that i’ll be packing it up in 2 months.

well, i’m here now.

bed weather

has been a useful exercise to re-read all the entries from this blog.
as i read, i flashback to the places i’ve written about.
where i was physically, emotionally.
what it smelled like.
what i ate that day.
even what i was wearing.

bed weather continues here.
no blue sky for 4 days.
ventured out this morning to fetch water and went to the palengke.
p200 later, i have enough food to last me until i go the states on tuesday.

and, YAHOOEY!
i’m going to the states on tuesday!
i’m honestly so looking forward to it.
it’s an odd feeling.
i’m actually giddy.
will be landing in sfo, instead of the usual vegas.
i’m paying for this ticket myself.
my parents didn’t get it for me.
my Center didn’t get it for me.
Me.
that feels good, too.

two years

i’ve been enjoying some mighty fine bed weather.
may bagyo sa Zambales. kaya umuulan dito sa sta. rita buong araw.

i’ve seen Rowell twice since i came home from baguio.
the night i came home, he met me at the intersection to help me carry all my stuff.
then last night he came over and promptly fell asleep on my bed while i played guitar and sang.

today, i was on facebook way too much, watched some movies, and finished “Pareng Barack” by Benjamin Pimental.

i also spent some hours reading all the entries from this blog since it’s inception in june, two years ago.
how far i’ve come.

two years of my life has been spent here in the Philippines.
hard to believe.
i’ve learned so much.
and i’m readying myself for my return to the States.
soon.

i look around my apartment.
i see a lot of books.
and lots of trinkets and art.
i can name where and when i got each piece.
i flash forward in my mind already mentally packing boxes to be shipped ahead of me.

what a strange thing that i’ve done.
it is perhaps the best gift i could ever have given myself.
there is writing that is percolating in my head.
pieces that are waiting to be born.
i flash forward to the babaylan conference in april 2010.
will be here soon.

last night, Rowell asked me again, when i was leaving.
September.

you won’t be here for my birthday.
no, friend, i won’t.

then we both just looked at each other.
then he turned over and dozed off.
i continued playing my guitar and singing.

still many things to do before i return to the States.
acupuncture apprenticeship with Benjie in Davao.
visit Betsy in Makilala.
visit Nonet in Aklan.
maybe Bunso in Boracay.
Pi and Lisette in Kalipay.
Drs. Turalba in Los Banos.
GCI in Zarraga.
Banaue and Sagada.

back and forthing.
back.
forth.
Home.

Trust

i cycle faster than i used to.
before, i could get caught up in my emotions for days, weeks even.
before that, months.
years...

i am discovering new things about myself.
new ways of living.
of being.
of Being.

choices made.
making choices.
choice.

it's so interesting to observe it.
this process.
to live it.
to see it, instead of unconsciously bungling my way through it,
inadvertently bulldozing all that used to lay in my path.

i can still do that.
i still feel the impulses to do it even.
but, i don't.
i choose not to.
that's the perhaps hardest part.
when i choose not to indulge in a certain ingrained pattern of behavior.
it's not the relinquishing that's the hardest.
it's the not knowing what to do instead.
it's when i feel most vulnerable.
where i can i easily get distraught.

and i know a Trust is being forged.
a Trust that i am being held.
that if i agree to keep stepping out into the Unknown,
it becomes Known.
and manageable.
and not so scary.
and it doesn't take very long.
and it's not so bloody, as it once was.

strange.
and true.

sweets

i know things happen for a reason.
and i know, more often than not, i won't understand that reason until way after.

i know i am the sum total of those kinds of moments.

the liminal space.
the space in between.
between the thing and the understanding of the thing.

i'm there.
and i hate it.
it's painful.

i want to scream my house down.
and hit.
and clench my fists so that my nails dig into my palms 'til they bleed.
anything but be in this moment.
and feel this pain.

the person i am and am becoming knows to exhale.
and freeze frame.
and not hit.
and not self-mutilate (literally and figuratively).

i will do my best to stay present to this pain.
to this impending grief.
this actual grief.
in a good way.
in a useful way.
in a growthful way.

surrender.
i surrender.

and it's most curious that my thoughts turn to you, sweets, during these kinds of moments.
i'm not sure why they do.

and they do.
every time.

i wonder if it is another form of distraction.
distraction from the present.
because you were so my past.
especially this version.

perhaps a grain (or two) of truth in that.

and...
when i look thru my biography, you were there the most in hard moments like this.
and i realize the value and preciousness of that.
the rarity.

having someone present that gets it.
that shares it.

it wasn't every time.
'specially near the end.
but it was enough for me to appreciate.
and learn to love.
myself.
you.

i wonder if i am forever ruined.
searching for this intangible thing.
waiting for it even.

is it comparing mind?
maybe.

i am forever ruined.
and i'm glad for it, sometimes.
most the time.
but, i can't settle now.
that's the drawback.

few are like fine tempered steel.
few can stand the heat of the fire that purifies.

and, i live in this fire.
i live in this fire.
alone.

there are moments when i share this space.
it's fleeting.
either they can't stand the heat.
or i can't stand them.

yah.
ruined.