Here I am again, very late at night trying my luck on my brain freeze. For the past months since my last update, I could not make up my mind on what to say to people who had been following my blog. There are at least several people; I could count them in my fingers, who asked me to give them an update for several …times.
God knows I tried to write but I could not come up with something inspiring. Many times I tried to start typing, but I never get to finish any of them as I feel that it not I who is writing. The words that I were able to come up all seemed superficial, it does have the right feeling that it should have. So sugar-coated it is not honest, so baloney in so many ways. Yes it could inspire but just like all other copied and recopied sayings and thoughts, it will all be cliché. My ability to come up with inspiring words parallels the emotion I have when I am troubled. Like sea tides that only make sound when driven by a raging wind, I need something to force me to give out strength that even a seawall could not refuse to yield.
Not everyone respond to difficulty in the same way, in the same way everyone responds to beauty differently. But it is consistent as consistent to listen to the words of somebody who has been through a lot, even if it is just for awhile. The heart has its own wisdom, and it is deeper than the mind. The sudden burning compassion for the ones in turmoil can make a mountain bow down despite its majesty. But as sudden as the burst of its fire thus it cools down.
At the height of my difficulty I was as fearless as a lion, as light-footed as a cat walking in precision towards a clear goal. My last admission in November 2010, seemed to be the finale of my tale, after which my body has been so accustomed to being abnormal it has become my normality. I do not mind having liver enzymes the value triple than normal as long as the abdominal pain that goes with still allows me sleep at night. I have savored the kindness of summer that I have forgotten everything even the purpose of my continued existence. I simply went back to the old me, as stiff as a rod, following the path of my own dictate and worrying for tomorrow, the day that may not even come.
Like a tree awaiting the first ray of the sun at dawn, I was full of hope that the sunshine will make me the better person I planned to be when I was still bedridden. That after all I have been through, I was just waiting for the sun to so I can position myself under it so I can execute and finish my purpose in this lifetime. In the darkness I thought I needed the sun so I can be useful to humanity. Alas! Sunshine brings me too much happiness, it is not good for my soul. Its radiance is too beautiful, it is blinding. And what am I without my soul?
My sickness has granted me the privilege of learning handful of wisdom, the most important of which is the fact that I live so I have a chance to redeem my soul. The sun is mighty in itself; in its splendor it can burn those who are not careful. My own sun has purged out the sincerity in my heart to be inspiration for others. I only stopped to admire its majesty but it made me hold on to it, I could not bring myself to continue my journey. Like a tree I am too drained I could not share anything to anyone anymore. In a matter of months I will fully recover, I will not have anything to be worried about. My sun will shine brighter; much “happiness” is sure to come and so as emptiness. Emptiness so different from the one I had when my struggle was physical disability, emptiness borne out of not being able to be of use to others. Emptiness that comes along with happiness, I am lonelier now that I am happy.
I need rain; yes I do need rain just like a tree that that longs for a shower after standing still for a long time under the sunshine. Like the tree that sways in the lullaby of the wind that comes along with the rain, my will takes the shape of my tragedy. I then follow not my own dictates but that of the ONE that commands everything, I get molded beautifully. Resiliency is not the capacity to oppose pressure; rather, it is the ability to take the shape of the pressure without being broken. Perhaps I am one of those who respond to beauty differently, and because of this I was given the path so hard to fathom.
My Master knows that I am better off with struggle, for through it I become useful. My place in the sun is always beneath some dark clouds and little rain. He knows it is where I can be my best! I welcome rain, I welcome struggle!
by Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet
Thursday, August 4, 2011 at 12:18am
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