in progress

“how are you feeling now?” my friend asked me online just a few minutes ago. I guess she was referring to my day yesterday wherein I wasn’t really feeling all that great, and after a couple of years of not having depression, it was strange seeing it rearing its sad face peeking through my metaphorical window, asking if it’s ok to come in. No, it wasn’t ok to come in, and the whole day was like a roller coaster wrestling match (sorry for mixing my metaphors) with self-pity as I just kept on praying and pleading for more of the grace that I already know was enough and that was already given to me.

“My grace is enough,” He assures me time and time again. Even if I didn’t open my Bible, I know where it is, where to find it. I always went back to it. And throughout the day the grace that is always enough covered my big and small mistakes, carried my unwilling ass from one task to another. Raised my spirits when I just couldn’t even lift the corners of my mouth for a smile.

Things are changing again. And while I used to boast that I thrive on change, the in-between time is sometimes so uncomfortable.

I’m at a crossroads again. Weird, wasn’t I just here a few months ago? Did I miss a turn somewhere? But lead on Lord.

Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

(Monday’s Child, traditional)

Children of the 80s, remember that Mighty Kid Christmas commercial where the kid in the car gave his shoes to the street kid? The memory still makes me teary-eyed because it was a rather selfless act in a holiday where sometimes it’s about receiving presents. And he was a really cute chubby kid so happy with his shoes until he saw someone who needed them more.

Anyway, my friend is organizing a gift campaign to give shoes to the children in poor communities. all you have to do is pick a kid (or more) by tagging or leaving a comment under his/her pictures. and you can receive his/her shoe outline via email. buy her/him a pair of shoes. I can organize a one-time drop-off at my friend’s if ever you guys want to join. I participated last year and it was nice to go shoe shopping for children who I know don’t get new shoes all that often.

so, game? It’ll certainly make their Christmas.

To see the Facebook album click here.

“Why am I doing this, really?” Andy Stanley has urged us to ask ourselves while facing the mirror, and to answer that question honestly.

I’ve been asking myself that a lot these days. Actually, for a whole year already, since I made the move to WinMakati. Especially now, with all the things I have volunteered to take on, I’m really wondering is it because I’m just stupid and activity-addicted this way, or is it something else?

What am I trying to prove? To myself, to others… to God?

“Every faculty you have, your power of thinking or of moving your limbs from moment to moment is given to you by God. If you devoted every moment of your whole life exclusively to His service, you could not give Him anything that was not in a sense His own already. So that when we talk of a man doing anything for God or giving anything to God, I will tell you what it is really life. It is like a small child going to His father and saying, “Daddy, give me a sixpence to buy you a birthday present.” Of course, the father does, and he is pleased with the child’s present. It is all very nice and proper, but only an idiot would think that the father is sixpence to the good of the transaction. When a man has made these two discoveries, God can really get to work. It is after this that real life begins. The man is awake now…” (C.S. Lewis)

*breathes*

Beautiful wisdom from a Nike ad many years ago:

You were born a daughter.
You looked up to your mother.
You looked up to your father.
You looked up at everyone.
You wanted to be a princess.
You thought you were a princess.
You wanted to own a horse.
You wanted to be a horse.
You wanted your brother to be a horse.
You wanted to wear pink.
You never wanted to wear pink.
You wanted to be a Veterinarian.
You wanted to be President.
You wanted to be the President’s Veterinarian.
You were picked last for the team.
You were the best one on the team.
You refused to be on the team.
You wanted to be good in algebra.
You hid during algebra.
You wanted the boys to notice you.
You were afraid the boys would notice you.

You started to get acne.
You started to get breasts.
You started to get acne that was bigger than your breasts.
You wouldn’t wear a bra.
You couldn’t wait to wear a bra.
You couldn’t fit into a bra.
You didn’t like the way you looked.
You didn’t like the way your parents looked.
You didn’t want to grow up.
You had your first best friend.
You had your first date.
You had your second best friend.
You had your second first date.
You spent hours on the telephone.
You got kissed.
You got to kiss back.
You went to the prom.
You didn’t go to the prom.
You went to the prom with the wrong person.
You spent hours on the telephone.
You fell in love.
You fell in love.
You fell in love.
You lost your best friend.
You lost your other best friend.
You really fell in love.
You became a steady girlfriend.
You became a significant other.

YOU BECAME SIGNIFICANT TO YOURSELF.

Sooner or later, you start taking yourself seriously. You know when you need a break. You know when you need a rest. You know what to get worked up about and what to get rid of. And you know when it’s time to take care of yourself, for yourself. To do something that makes you stronger, faster, more complete. Because you know it’s never too late to have a life. And never too late to change one.
JUST DO IT.

As someone who has spent– and is still spending– a good part of her life in transit, I know all about how it is to be en route to somewhere else. I used to joke that I live on the road, I just go home to sleep. And I often find myself at peace with this state of existence already, existing in the Now, while living for something far greater that is to come.

Ok, now that last sentence didn’t make much sense.

Now What?

These days, for some reason, my friends and I have been going through a period of wondering about where we are right now and where God is taking us, and what is it that we’re waiting for. I’ve been asked about how I measure my life’s progress versus what I’ve accomplished so far. I have been getting a lot of emails from A Slice of Infinity about waiting (like this one, “Hope without answers”); this morning, I listened to Northpoint’s latest sermon of Andy Stanley aptly titled, “The Thrill of Hope,” and last week’s sermon in midweek was basically about waiting as well.

I’ve always said that being a young adult is a period of being on the brink of something. While, everyone is always at a point of waiting for anything, I think it is most palpably felt while you’re a single young adult. That’s why this is the time when we most ask God the Whats, Whens, How and the Who. We’re done with school, we more or less know who we are, we’re earning our own money, our parents have (mostly) relinquished their control over us, and we are answerable to ourselves… now what?

This morning, I was just airing out some probabilities and situations to God. What if this, what if that. I’m not really concerned about the waiting part, I’ve long since surrendered to that fact, but it’s more about what I do while I’m waiting. Can I allow myself some mistakes– on purpose? What if things get too hard, and the questions are too difficult to answer and the I’m unable to quantify the answers? Why do I have to be good all the time? Why must I always do the right thing?! (Yes, I know the answers to these questions already, but feelings are different from what I know most of the time.)

My friends and I recently a discussion pertaining to God’s standards and what actually happens in real life– the “ideal” versus the “reality,” and I was so quick to counter, “So you’re saying God’s not realistic?!”

My friend, flustered, replied, “Of course He is! But…” She holds her hands up in the air. Yes, in the face of everything in this world, waiting just seems so… impractical.

But waiting is just that– you wait.

oh, the thrill of hope!

While once in a while I do get these waiting-themed lessons and teachings in seasons, it’s funny how now it’s happening right before Christmas, during Advent. And what it’s doing is transforming the way I see Christmas. I have gone from my childhood excitement for gifts, to Christmas-is-cantata-season, to Christmas-is-traffic-and-higher-crime rate season, but now, God has introduced me to Christmas as the not-waiting-in-vain season.

Growing up in a church, I was taught that God had already promised Jesus since the fall of man. And that’s way back in the garden of Eden! Since then, all of creation and God’s people had literally been waiting for Christmas for thousands of years! God was even silent in the several hundred years before the virgin birth. People have died while in wait (because they got old already, of course. They didn’t die from waiting!), while others have fallen away. But the thing is, there was an appointed time for Jesus to be born. No matter how long people have waited for what seemed like forever, Christmas still came!

All that waiting was never in vain!

Where were the main players when it came at the appointed time? There were Zacharias and Elizabeth who stayed righteous in the eyes of God (the parents of John the Baptist); Mary, who told Gabriel, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word.” and Joseph, who, though he did not understand at first, stayed with her; Simeon and Anna who knew they would see the Messiah before they died, so they waited for Jesus at the temple every day; the wise men who were doing their job watching the stars; the shepherds watching over their sheep. They were all doing where they were supposed to be at that time.

So now, in this season of waiting, the holiday rush, decors, songs, parties and whatnot have taken on a new meaning. It fills me with great anticipation for the things and the answers that are yet to come– in their appointed time. But oh I know, I know that when that happens, it will be the Perfect Moment.

And while it’s still not here, I’ll stay with the program, do the job that’s in front of me, give thanks for the time in between, and be faithful.

I found this on my twitter feed (see article below).

This needs some thinking over. Funny how this page has been open on my laptop the whole day I’ve been struggling with letting go of things in my past, and I’ve only read it now.

I’ve often struggled with letting go– you should see my room, I have boxes of notebooks from my writing fevers back in high school that I never read, but I still can’t throw away. I have letters from people I don’t see or talk to anymore, but have a hard time letting go. There’s this box with all the pictures of a certain boy and me that I open once in a while. I buy souvenirs and collect paraphernalia from places I’ve been too, always meaning to write about them later, but I never do. Sometimes I’d forget where and how I got some knick knacks in my room. I always say, half-jokingly, that once I get my room in order, my life would be in order.

Maybe it’s about time.

Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:13-14)

________________________________

How to Destroy Past Lives
by Everett Bogue

“The hydrogen atoms in a human body completely refresh every seven years. As we age we are really a river of cosmically old atoms. The carbons in our bodies were produced in the dust of a star. The bulk of matter in our hands, skin, eyes, and hearts was made near the beginning of time, billions of years ago. We are much older than we look.” – Kevin Kelly, from his new book What Technology Wants.

I like the idea that every seven years we’re a totally new person. A whole new set of hydrogen atoms, a whole new reason to reinvent ourselves. Obviously this whole new person is defined somewhat by the grand design of our DNA structure, and the choices we make, but it still is a whole new body at it’s basic structural level.

For example, the me who ate bacon egg and cheeses every morning and while sitting at a desk and eventually developed a 34 inch waist line 3 years ago is very different from the me now — with a 29 inch waist line, who eats mostly fruit, veggies, coffee and the amazing food at The Summit SF, while taking double or triple yoga classes a day.

Frequently we find ourselves dwelling on the past.

We remember the night we said goodbye to the little blond girl in the rain that one night in Manhattan. We remember the time we danced all night until the sun came out in the basement of a school in Brooklyn. We remember the time that we took that first photo of the first day we got dropped off in New York. We remember the time we rode our bike to Lake Michigan at 4am and watched the sun come up over the horizon.

These were all beautiful moments, but they happened in the past. In many ways they happened a lifetime ago.

There’s a reason that so many spiritual and philosophical practices focus on bringing you into the present moment, your breath, your heartbeat. Because these two things can only happen now, not then, not in the future.

Many of the people who contact me about becoming minimalist are struggling with a past that they cannot forgive or forget. So they hold on. They hold onto the rocks they collected in 7th grade. They hold onto the memories of the loves they never really had. They hold onto the art they created five years ago, but never sold. They hold, hold, hold.

And these collections of memories, physical or emotional build up over time. These people become heavier and heavier, until they find no rest. They do this until all of their energy is dedicated towards keeping the past alive.

The reality is that the past is dead. It happened, it shaped who you are, but it’s gone now.

And it’s never coming back.

No matter how many Facebook messages you send to your high school ex-girlfriend/boyfriend when you’re drunk at night, you’re never going to be 17 again. You’re never going to share the connection you had then.

No matter how many times you look at that picture of the perfect halloween, with the displaced tribe of a dozen remarkable individuals, they’ll never be together again in the same way.

And this is okay. The world changes. We evolve into new and better individuals every single day.

The choice though is this: will you continue to build up your energy in order to focus on the person you were back then?

Or can you let it go, to concentrate on the faces around you now?

Can you look up into the eyes of the person across from you at the table at the coffee shop, or on the yoga mat next to you, or on the other side of that email and say:

“I am here with you now.”

Because, you are.

Here are a few actions that I’ve taken to clear the past, maybe they can help you.

1. Destroy your old unpublished work.

In the last few years I’ve adopted an incredibly healthy habit of burning Moleskin notebooks. When I’ve finished one, I take it somewhere like the edge of a body of water or the top of a mountain and a burn it. I like to think this releases the creative energy invested in the work into the universe, so that it can come back to me or others at a later date.

I’ve been writing a non-fiction story, a dialog between a young woman and man who survive the apocalypse and then go on to save the world, in notebooks for the last few years. Every time I finish a notebook, I burn it, then start writing the story again. Every time I write the story again it’s clearer, more focused, more important. Someday maybe I’ll actually write a version that I want to publish, or maybe it’s just an exercise to bring me closer to the creative side of my brain, who knows?

This also means I can’t grab a notebook and flip back to remind myself about how I felt about some girl I was in love with five years ago when I feel down at 3am on a Tuesday night. I can still feel down, but without the physical connection to the memory it’s that much harder to escape to the past.

I’ve been thinking about taking all of the photos/data on my hard drives collected from the dawn of time and destroying them too. I’ll let you know if/when I do how that feels. I never look at this stuff, why keep it?

2. Don’t collect souvenirs.

It might be obvious from the fact that I live with around 50 things that I don’t collect stuff from places. I don’t have any artifacts to remind me of my trip to Vietnam. I didn’t buy a I Heart NY shirt on the day I left NY. I don’t save sea shells.

If I feel like I need to be connected to an awesome experience, I go out into the world and have one.

3. I lose touch with (most) old friends.

There are certain people who I have a cosmic connection with, who I will continue to visit every time I wander through the city that they live in. We’ll go to each others weddings, we’ll say each others eulogies, we’ll make dinner together every time we cross paths.

My friends who are these people know who they are, and I know who they are. We just know, there’s no other way of explaining why.

But most people aren’t those people. Over the last year I’ve met thousands of people, I’ve received tens of thousands of emails. I’ve said ‘until next time’ to hundreds at the end of the night. Most of these people I’ll never actively seek out again, in essence, we’ll lose touch.

This sounds sad, but it isn’t. The fact is that most people aren’t your people. They’re just bodies passing in space and time. They might have something to teach you in the moment, but after that moment they don’t need your help anymore.

So you let them go.

Why we need to destroy our past lives.

The world is speeding up. 100 years ago, you’d probably have the same small group of friends who supported each other for your entire life. You never left the town you were born in. In order to get in touch you had to send a postcard via the, uhm, snail mail? Whatever that is.

In today’s world, it’s not uncommon to live many different lives over the course of your own. You’ll morph, change, your life will transition. You’ll move dozens or hundreds of times as the ever-growing cloud of connected information cares for your survival.

You have a choice, you can either let the pain and joys of the past build up until they’re too heavy a burden. Or, you can let everything go. Burn your notebooks, let the friends go, leave the souvenirs at the shop.

All that really matters is having a connection with the here and now. This breath, this movement, this heart beat.

What can you do to bring yourself here right now?

——–

I’m sick. For the first time since February, I felt unwell and woozy. I’ve been feeling this since Friday, but thank God, I managed to go through my to-do list (two shoots and an interview, plus SAM WinMakati’s First Friday Fellowship) and even got to bond with one of my writers, Yvette Tan.

I’m one of those people who subscribe to the belief that every illness has a deeper meaning other than my body stalling because it’s overworked. And I always think that this is God’s way of making me rest. It turns out to be more than that.

Today is a Sunday and I can’t go to church because my head hurts, I feel my vertigo trying to resurface, and my throat is all scratchy. I should be sleeping, but instead, I chose to listen to a podcast of Northpoint’s last Sunday’s preaching by Jeff Henderson and he talked about God’s thumbprints on us– our gifts. What struck me is that we can actually neglect our gifts, and Paul warned Timothy (and essentially us) that there is a danger of that happening. For some reason, I just started sobbing at that point.

Do not neglect the spiritual gift you received through the prophecy spoken over you when the elders of the church laid their hands on you. Give your complete attention to these matters. Throw yourself into your tasks so that everyone will see your progress. (1 Timothy 4:14-15)

There it is. That’s the reason for this time.

See, I’m a writer, a good one–I’ve been told by a lot of people since fifth grade that I am. (Funny enough, one of my favorite professors also said that while I am a good writer, I’m also a lazy one. And I found out that it’s true, even if I didn’t accept it at that time.) I finished Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines. I started getting paid to write when I was a college freshman.  Now, I make a living by writing, and editing. Throughout all this, I’ve been asking God if this is what I’m supposed to be doing, and while there is no burning bush or a voice from heaven that told me that I’m supposed to be a writer, I guess my life and work so far are answers enough. This is my gift and my calling.

But I think I’ve neglected it along the way.

I used to tell people that I’m a writer, but writing’s the hardest thing in the world for me to do. It wasn’t always like this, but I’ve lost my joy for it somewhere between giving up journalism and graduating from Creative Writing.

I’m burned out.  I look at an empty page with dread now and with the desire to do something else other than write (an impulse I usually obey unless the deadline cannot be ignored anymore).

So I’m still writing.

And oh, how painfully laborious it is for me to finish an article or even a blog post! That’s why I love twitter and facebook status messages– they require so little of my words and time!

The ironic thing is, writing is always at the top of my mind in everything. Whatever I experience, think, hear, read or stumble upon– I want to write it down. It doesn’t mean that I do get to write them down all the time, but that’s what I want to do with everything that goes my way– WRITE ABOUT IT.

The thing is, I love to experience, talk, think, read, listen to so many things that they just pile up, on top of my writing jobs (that I love so very much) that I end up putting them off for the next time I feel writing– which I hardly ever happens until the deadlines start whooshing past.

But when I do write, I feel the rightness of it. And yes, I do feel His delight when I let the words just flow out on the page. And it always feels so good to finish a piece.
So back to this sickly weekend… Last Friday, I made myself an epitaph for our SAM FFF. I already had a design in mind, but suddenly, I changed it. Instead of stars and other pretty things, I just drew a door notice that says, “The Writer is out.” And I just thought that it was weird that I wanted to label myself as a writer even after I’m dead.

I was still thinking about it throughout Saturday because it sounded brash and assuming, and I’m more of an editor now than a writer. And I felt ashamed for all the articles that are piled up with me and are way overdue.

Then I listened to the podcast this morning. And God just hit me with His Word.

I have been talking and looking and being paid for being a writer, but I’ve been neglecting the actual writing part of my gift. And gifts aren’t supposed to be just for me– it’s for other people. It’s for His glory!
By neglecting it, I have been neglecting God’s gift and ultimately, not riding with his plans for my life.

I’m still not feeling so good, my head hurts and my eyes cross even as I am writing this. But I figured that once I get the impetus to write, I should not neglect it. Because this is how God made me to serve Him, and it’s about time I stop putting it off.

I still don’t feel like writing, but I’m going to do it now from obedience, and hopefully soon, the joy will come back. And when it does…. I can’t wait.

p.s. yes, this is also an apology to people I owe articles to. You know who you are. They’re coming!

(I’ve listened to Jars of Clay’s “Who we are instead” album several times already, but on this particular afternoon yesterday, while stuck in traffic, this song made me keep on playing it over and over again. I read the lyrics and sang the song over and over again. For some reason, I think, God chose this time for me to pay attention to the message and not just merely enjoy the melody.)

I built another temple to a stranger
I gave away my heart to the rushing wind
I set my course to run right into danger
I sought the company of fools instead of friends

You know I’ve been unfaithful
With lovers in lines
While you’re turning over tables
With the rage of a jealous kind

I chose the gallows to the aisle
Thought that love would never find
Hanging ropes will never keep you
And your love of a jealous kind
Love of a jealous kind

Tryin’ to jump away from rock that keeps on spreading
Solace in the shift of the sinking sand
I’d rather feel the pain all too familiar
Than be broken by a lover I don’t understand
‘Cause I don’t understand

Have I been unfaithful to You, Lord? Every time I put something or somebody else at the center of my heart and affections, bypassing You, I know I have cheated on You.

I remember praying not too long ago (even as I was so scared to pray it), that I want You to be at front and center in my life. I was so in love with a boy that thoughts of him saturated everything I do and everywhere I went. And I couldn’t help it, I had given my heart to him. But I knew that my heart was Yours first, and I was worried that I had taken it back and given it to the boy instead. Because You’re invisible! He’s flesh and blood. When he held my hand, I could feel the warmth and the strength of his bones and sinews, I felt his heartbeat when he held me in his embrace. I know You’re there, but I couldn’t feel Your hug, I never see Your smile with my own eyes! You didn’t joke around with my friends like he did. I tried rationalizing that we give glory and honor to You through my love for him, but I knew that this wasn’t the case.

I guess it was at that point when I realized that even while I was happy back then with the boy, it couldn’t be complete because I had You trade places with him. I could only be happy with You first. And when the boy started failing– when we were both failing each other– it was bound to happen, though I still wish it had turned out differently.

You have every right to be jealous, because my heart was, and will always be, Yours. And when I, fallen and broken, turned to You, You scooped me up in Your arms and held me together. You were my safety when I wanted to cry. You showed me how it is to be loved and pampered, and still not be left all empty and spent. You restored my joy, gave me peace and kept me whole when everything should be broken. And while it still hurts, You never let me feel that I should be over it by now. But You gently prod me to keep on moving forward.

When I look back to my other relationships, I’ve always meant for them to please You first. But it never turns out that way. My emotions, my lust, my needs, I get in the way. A case of loving none to wisely, but too well. But O, Lord… Let it be different next time. You take over. You come first before him.

One hundred other lovers, more, one hundred other altars
If I should slow my pace and finally subject me to grace
And love that shames the wise, betrays the heart’s deceit and lies
And breaks the back of foolish pride…

Love of a jealous kind…

(A Jealous Kind, Jars of Clay)