The Health Saga

"The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age." - Lucille Ball

People have been asking me how come I'm proudly embracing the fact that I'm turning 40 this year. I have blogged about it. I have contemplated putting up a talent show for my gifted friends of the same age. I even organized a joint birthday party for my high school batch entitled "40 is the New Sexy." We rocked that videoke jeans party like the silly teenagers we once were.

Photo credit: www.desh.biz

Well, if you can't beat turning 40, I said you might as well celebrate it. And I embraced this even as early as March last year, when I resigned from my job and left the country to take stock of life and regain my bearings. Upon my return since March of this year, however, everything I had left behind and even some more matters that I had encountered the past year required my attention.  In full, crashing force.

My health was the first to announce its agenda. Since being cured of astigmatism in high school, I had to start wearing eyeglasses again last March. So first doctor, ophthalmologist. I finally got to use the cool eyewear frame that my sister sent me from the States. I embraced this change Ella-style, certainly fashion-forward and with a lot of selfies.

Then, I set a swimming date with my nephews at their family condo's pool. When I got there I was having the headache of a lifetime and my brother discovered that my blood pressure was off the charts. I did not get to swim, to the dismay of my nephews, even as I had every intention to exercise. Instead, I had to lie down, rest (a strange word) and pray for the energy to drive back home. Being asymptomatic, I did not know that I was hypertensive. Or probably I knew but was ignoring it. Or perhaps it was the plateful of crab fat (yummy aligue) that I had for lunch the Sunday before. I am sad to report that I have not eaten crab since then. So the second doctor that I was sent to was an internist. He took my BP from my left arm, shook his head, and took it from my right arm as well.  He then prescribed maintenance medications for hypertension and instructed me to go through a battery of tests just to check my overall health.

The week after, armed with my test results and a bad cough, I returned to the internist. He prescribed cough medicines and then told me I had to see a hematologist because I was anemic. I asked if he could just make his own conclusions because I did not want to go to another doctor (wishful thinking, in hindsight). He simply said that it was important that I see a hematologist. He recommended one from the same hospital. I returned the next day following the doctor's schedule given by the hospital guards, but alas, said hematologist was out of the country. I called up another hospital, and all of my friends who were related to doctors, for another referral. At this point the fact that I had no medical insurance coverage was sinking in.

I received two referrals, one for a male hematologist, and another for a female one. I went to the one who held clinic on a Saturday, as my family was beginning to worry. In the process, I missed my high school barkada outing to Las Casas de Acuzar, a place I had long wanted to visit. So I was really sulking inside by the time I got to the doctor's clinic. When he saw my blood test results, he said in other cases he would already recommend transfusion. That scared me. He wanted me to go through a whole lot of tests to determine the cause of my anemia. I found myself complaining at the discomfort level of those prescribed tests. I obeyed him on some tests but not for the others. I had to miss a family outing for that. Summer came and left without me seeing the ocean. More sulking.

In the meantime, my blood pressure continued to be high, despite the medication. I was constantly feeling tired and even bordered on depression. I had, at the same time, job interviews, as my career was in need of a makeover. In fact my agenda upon returning from Australia was just that - find a job. My body disagreed with me. Listening to my body, I wanted a second opinion on my anemia and went to the other specialist, the female hematologist. I waited outside her clinic for hours in the intense summer heat. By the time she was able to see me, she took my BP and we both got shocked because it was at 176/111. Regarding my anemia, she recommended two more tests, but she was pretty certain that it was not serious. I texted my family that I was going to rest at a nearby Starbucks before driving home. Unknown to me, my brother consulted his cardiologist and learned that I was at risk for stroke. When I got home, he was waiting for me and told me I needed to see a cardiologist.

I had lost count by this time of the hospitals, clinics, and doctors I had been to. All I knew was that I had to see another specialist. I talked to my father and asked him to set an appointment with his cardiologist. I had no job, and mounting medical bills. Thank God for the support of family.

The cardiologist is a brilliant doctor who explained everything and encouraged me to take care of my health more seriously. He was the one who synthesized all that was possibly happening to me. He had the best bedside manner, and I wanted to hug him. (I have previously been known to hug a specialist, my Dr. House, who diagnosed me of an ailment I was suffering from since birth, which was the precursor to this saga.) He adjusted my medication and prescribed the proper heart rate for when I am exercising and when I am at rest. He also ordered more tests, as I had unexplained bleeding. He also asked me to see an obstetrician-gynecologist, and he happened to know of a good one, his wife, whose clinic was just next door. After weeks of queuing up at doctor's offices, I was really happy to be the first patient of the OB-GYN. She ordered more ultrasound tests.

I completely detached from job hunting as it was too much to handle. I just sent my resume whenever a friend referred me to an opening, but did not anymore stress over it. I accepted a project but had to resign because I was neither fit nor ready to work. I then watched my diet and took up zumba classes on top of my regular walking. I also went with my parents to the mall week after week to watch movies and enjoy my unplanned vacation.

The tests had to be timed and one by one, I was cleared. My friend, a radiologist, did an ultrasound test of my liver, kidney, and bladder and did not note anything unusual. Then a harrowing experience with an OB sonologist yielded news that there was some improvement in my ovaries since my last ultrasound. My iron levels and this thing called electrophoresis were the last scheduled tests before I returned to the hematologist. I got the results last Friday and the other day, returned to the hematologist. She confirmed that my anemia was not causing the hypertension, and that I had something that 1/3 of Filipinos suffered from, alpha thalassemia trait (yes, I love talking medical now, after reading and watching "The Fault in Our Stars"). She even took me off medication.

I was so happy after that last consultation but could not help thinking, what was that all about? Why did I have a grand hospital tour since March? Why did I have to go through so many tests? My parents said that they were thankful that nothing was seriously wrong with me physically, that I did not need to go through surgery. At least when I start my new job and my new life as a 40-year old woman, I could embrace a healthier me.

I still have to go back to the cardiologist and report all these, plus my exercise activities. I will do it after this week of job applications, which thankfully kept moving even without my deliberate attention, and after my short break to try the simple life in the province.

I have also been in touch with my spiritual director, the best doctor of all, who as a psychologist can manage my intellectual and mental state, and as a priest is able to check my emotional and spiritual balance. He is the one who invited me to look at the blessings of turning 40, of knowing myself better and being stronger after so many trials. (After reading this, he mentioned that he was also going through his post-turning-40-transition. He is really the perfect companion for this journey, and I am sad that he is leaving the Philippines soon for further studies. The lessons I have learned from him were timely, bordering on perfect.)

It has been a tough journey, and in fact I am still dealing with a lot of backlog, but I am now able to celebrate more the gift of life. The other day, as I was eating strawberry ice cream with some friends, which was a favorite but something I had had to give up for health reasons, I felt happy. I knew who were with me in sickness and in health. More than the doctors, my family and friends have been a great source of strength and courage.

I look forward to the next chapter of life, which is coming very soon. I put all my trust in God, who has been with me, and who has gone there before me.

Spectacular Crepuscular Rays

There was one significant moment in my not-so-distant past when I was struck by something so beautiful but I was too dumbfounded, and cranky, to fully appreciate it.

This is not an actual shot of the moment, but it is the closest I have found so far:

Crepuscular Rays Over the Sea, not my image.

Back then, I did not know what it was called. I did not have the words to describe it.

I could not capture the spectacular view with my camera either for I was inside a moving vehicle, and it was very early in the morning. I had not even had coffee yet. And I was under the worst mood in the world. There was a heaviness in my heart, and then this breathtaking sight was pointed out to me. Like a sign from God, I was told.

Now, months later, just because I am wearing brand-new reading glasses,  I get to use a scientific, four-syllable word in this blog: "crepuscular." I did some research about what I witnessed that unforgettable morning and found out that what I saw were crepuscular rays of the sun, which are "columns of sunlit air streaming through gaps in clouds... [creating] stunning displays of light and shadow." (See 20 Incredible Crepuscular Rays) They are like heavenly spotlights, or angelic steps.

That unforgettable morning, the stunning sun rays seemed to pierce through the clouds and bathe the ocean as we were driving by, and I did not want to blink so as not to miss anything. I closed my eyes only after the view was out of sight and imprinted the image in my heart.

At that particular moment, I really needed to hear from God for I was making huge life decisions. I found that it was hard to listen when my own heart was confused. In hindsight, I ask, what other sign could I have needed?

I could have read into the sign based on my situation at the time. I could have heard what I wanted to hear, and this could not have been the entire truth. I could have been wrong about some aspects of those decisions I had to make.

But I could not have been wrong about the beauty of the crepuscular rays, which I witnessed from a part of earth I was not sure I would ever see again, at the most perfect, opportune time. All the things that had happened immediately before and after that could fade and be forgotten, but the exact moment that the sun, the clouds, and the sea formed an image that showed me a way to the heaven in my heart would forever be one of the most majestic moments of my life.

Reentry, Gathering, and My Chance for a Do-Over

Reentry, defined.

1. a retaking possession; especially :  entry by a lessor on leased premises on the tenant's failure to perform the conditions of the lease
2. a second or new entry
3. a playing card that will enable a player to regain the lead
4. the action of reentering the earth's atmosphere after travel in space

Reenter, defined.

1. to go into (a place you have left) again
2. to go back into (a game that you were participating in earlier)
3. to type in (words, data, etc.) again on a computer

GATHER ME (PRAYER TO THE GOOD SHEPHERD)

Words: Johnny Go, SJ

Music: Ginny Pantig

Gather me; every scattered sheep in me.

I'd rather be waiting here for Your voice.

I've seen the life outdoors,

I think it's time to make a choice.

There's no other course - only Yours.

Shelter me; every shattered self in me.

Better be waiting here for Your touch.

I've been out there in the rain,

I've hurt myself far too much.

Come and ease my pain again.

Such a weary world

All its ways gone wild

Save this child from the storm

I've been tossed, I've been lost, I've been broken

All my wounded days

All the bitter tears

I have shed for all these years

But You were there all my life

Gather me, shelter me

Safe in Your arms

So please gather me;

the scattered laughter in me

Only You can make me whole.

Come and ease my battered soul.

Shepherd me -

Come and lead me home to You.

I prepared for my coming home by  bracing myself for the worst. I convinced myself that my happy days had ended and I was going to face a life of work and sacrifice again. I did not know if I could drive or find a job or reconnect with old friends. I know, how optimistic, right.

Well, the Lord has proven me wrong immediately, for aside from the warm welcome from my best friends, I also got an invitation to go on a retreat/holiday to Baguio City, the country's summer capital. I realized immediately that I had limited God again. Of course He was waiting for me in the Philippines, to be with me and to "gather me, all the scattered sheep in me."  I spent last weekend in a spacious hotel with sprawling grounds covered in pine trees, where I had uninterrupted time of prayer. The unplanned aspects of the trip included a visit to the BenCab museum, a return to Cafe by the Ruins, and a respite at the lobby of The Manor. At the end of that retreat, I readily admitted that I had the same God taking care of me here as the One who supplied for all my needs in Australia.

View from the cafe at BenCab Museum in Baguio

So when I visited my spiritual director, I shared about my experiences going back - the job interviews, the time spent with family, the friends who have welcomed me, and the God whom I had known more intimately. He introduced a word to me that captured the experience: reentry. He said that I had a wonderful chance to "do-over" everything, and I seemed to be on the right track.

"Do-over" is defined as an "opportunity to try or perform something a second time."

I am grateful for while I reenter this place I have left, and after all my travels, I am faced with good opportunities. 

People who leave correctional or prison facilities are given reentry programs "designed to assist incarcerated individuals with a successful transition to their community after they are released" (US Office of National Drug Control Policy). The Obama Administration’s National Drug Control Strategy supports comprehensive change within the criminal justice system, promoting a combined public health/public safety approach to stop the cycle of arrest, incarceration, release, and re-arrest.

Space shuttle re-entry is more complex and is done in stages, as explained in "The Physics of Space Shuttle Re-Entry."

The Fundamental Problem in Re-Entry

The phase of a spaceflight during which the craft leaves earth orbit and descends through the upper atmosphere is generally known as 're-entry'. In order to be in stable earth orbit in the first place, the craft must have attained and maintained a critical velocity. This orbital velocity is nearly 30 times the speed of sound - around a little under 8 kilometres per second. If the craft moves any more slowly than this, it will descend to a lower orbit under the influence of gravity. Because the craft will now encounter atmospheric resistance, it will lose energy and fall to earth.

In order to make a safe landing, a returning spacecraft has to lose nearly all of that orbital speed. The operation is basically a reversal of the launch phase, and this means that the returning craft must sink as much kinetic energy as the propulsion systems generated between lift-off and orbit. Theoretically speaking, there are four fundamentally different methods of doing this:

Powered Deceleration
Energy Exchange
Mass Shedding
Energy Dissipation

I could obviously talk more about restorative justice than orbital velocity, but I would leave both topics for now and just think about how to manage my own reentry into this place I have left behind, in order to make a safe landing. Surprisingly, the above discussion on space shuttle re-entry provided me further points of reflection.

If my driving is any indication, I need not have worried. I returned to the streets of Manila and Taguig and even drove as far as Paranaque for a wake, with little adjustment needed. God is good. All shall be well.

Closing the Gap Year

It is March 19, 2014. I could not let the day end without acknowledging its significance.

Aside from it being the feast of St. Joseph, one of my patron saints as I went to a Josephine school, March 19 was the day I left the Philippines last year to take a year off.

I have since returned, less than two weeks ago, from a year of travel. I am back in my parents' house, in the old neighborhood, in my room, and in my life.

I admit I am still taking stock of all that has happened, and getting used to this transition stage. For the difference between Australia and the Philippines is not just on which side of the road people walk and drive. The difference lies in the little things, which I took note of while I was away.

I try not to dwell too much on the people and the places that I miss in Sydney, or to hold on to the charmed life that I led in Canberra, Auckland, Melbourne, and Fiji, among friends and strangers. 

Fiji Sunset

It is good to be back among family and friends here at home, to be surrounded by all that is familiar, and to see them in a different light.

What am I being called to do now? What do I have to offer? What can I give? What can I share?

I am older and quieter, and still looking for my next gig.

I have lost weight but I am the same, essentially. Of course my eyes have seen new things, and my heart has felt different joys and sorrows. I have also regained my voice in words, and rekindled my love for the piano. 

I take advantage of the grace that this season of Lent brings, of my proximity to the parish, and of the presence of the Block Rosary with Our Lady of Fatima at home. It is a call to prayer, this time of change. I need guidance for all the decisions I am making.

There is peace in all these. Peace that does not make sense - because life is uncertain at this point. This probably is my version of the "peace that surpasses all understanding."

I am going on a personal retreat this weekend, and hope to synthesize more the blessings and the lessons from my gap year, so I can face the great world again with confidence.

Gap Year Lookback

Around this time last year, I was running around like a headless chicken trying to meet work deadlines, preparing for a year of travel to four countries, and shutting down life as I knew it, to get ready for the big reboot that was my 40th year.

I was not able to finish everything on my checklist, but I met as much of the people I wanted to say goodbye to as I could. Back then, my friends did not know if I was going back after a year or if I was going to send an email saying I was planting myself on foreign soil for good.

This time, I have a slower pace and more opportunities to ruminate. My social calendar is not overly booked. I have less clothes and shoes to pack. But is it any easier? Who likes goodbyes, please raise their hands? I know I don't. I'm pretty bad at it.

And so I sit with this sadness as part of the process. All good things must come to an end, so this holiday, this vacation, this time with my Sydney family and friends has reached its closing credits.

I am at peace with the decision. I know my future is bright, it is in God's hands, and even now doors and windows are opening for me. If only I could just stop feeling too much.

Yesterday I looked back at what I've written in my two blogs the past year, and came up with this:

1.  I introduced you all to the concept of my Gap Year: http://elladelrosario.blogspot.com.au/2013_03_01_archive.html

I was going to eat, pray, love, write, travel, cook, babysit, sleep, walk, dream, and write some more.

In terms of travel, I've been to the following wonderful places since then:

Port Stephens, NSW

Sydney CBD

Chatswood, Lane Cove, Willoughby - my neighborhood and neighboring suburbs

Canberra, ACT

Auckland - CBD and Hobbiton in Matamata, NZ

Melbourne, and Flowerdale, Victoria

Hunter Valley, NSW

Fiji Islands 

Bowral, Southern Highlands of NSW

Coogee, Bondi, Sydney

Melbourne, Flowerdale, and the Great Ocean Road, Victoria

Auckland, NZ again – Wenderholm, St. Mary’s Bay, North Shore

Terrigal, Central Coast, NSW

2.  As soon as I got here, however, I expected to write more. I did not.

Writing From Down Under:  http://obitermaster.wordpress.com/2013/04/

3. In May, I realized I was living a good life, but found the concept strange.

 Me, Object of Envy?  http://obitermaster.wordpress.com/2013/05/

At times, I felt displaced, but not discouraged. I also wrote about "Experiencing the Mass in Sydney."

http://elladelrosario.blogspot.com.au/search?updated-max=2013-12-27T18:42:00%2B08:00&max-results=10

4. In June, I went to Canberra and Auckland, and wrote the following about my travels, posted in July:

http://obitermaster.wordpress.com/2013/07/

 5. In August 2013, I had a fantastic trip to Melbourne, stayed at a beach house and then a farm, and visited good friends. 

  

http://elladelrosario.blogspot.com.au/2013/08/the-victorian-adventure-and-strange.html

6.  September came, and I flew to the Fiji Islands. I also experienced spring for the first time and wrote about it. The creative juices started flowing. I planned my 40th  birthday party for 2014.

http://obitermaster.wordpress.com/2013/09/

7. In October, I hatched a big plan, as an outlet of all my dreams: Defying 40, A Showcase of Talents for my friends

http://obitermaster.wordpress.com/2013/10/21/defying-forty-a-showcase-of-talents/

8. In November, I hardly posted anything. I was busy with my niece's birthday party and my parents' arrival.

9. December was the  most eventful month of all. I traveled to Auckland again and Melbourne again!

I called it a Beautiful Year: http://elladelrosario.blogspot.com.au/2013/12/a-beautiful-year.html

I accepted who I was, and wrote Next to Normal to welcome the new year:  http://obitermaster.wordpress.com/2013/12/

10.  In January, I finally did a lot of Creative Writing:  http://obitermaster.wordpress.com/2014/01/

I asked,

After the Gap, Then What?

I started Another Season of Farewells

11.  And in February, I saw how I was Connected to the World:  http://obitermaster.wordpress.com/2014/02/

And I kept writing the two storylines that were born in my heart.

This list in no way summarizes the past year. I may have to read them all in order to document my gap year.

I just went through it to be grateful, and to channel the sadness into productivity.

I have been blessed, and I will be again when I go home. I am counting on that.

Going to Bondi Beach

Praying for Sick Loved Ones

Today, I am praying for a miracle, for healing for my friend's mom, and for positive CT scan results for another friend's mom. This is making us pray more regularly for our loved ones and is reminding us that our parents need our love and care more each day.

I was grateful to read that in today's Gospel, Jesus healed the blind man. I claim healing for the sick.

Mark 8:22-26

22 When Jesus and his disciples arrived at Bethsaida, people brought to him a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. 23He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village. Putting spittle on his eyes he laid his hands on him and asked, “Do you see anything?” 24Looking up the man replied, “I see people looking like trees and walking.” 25Then he laid hands on the man’s eyes a second time and he saw clearly; his sight was restored and he could see everything distinctly. 26 Then he sent him home and said, “Do not even go into the village.”

I claim comfort for those who are afflicted. I claim consolation for those who are grieving. I claim relief for those taking care of others. 

Friends, we'll get through this together. Let's ask for Mama Mary's intercession.

Prayer to Our Lady of Lourdes

Oh ever immaculate Virgin, Mother of Mercy, Health of the Sick, Refuge of Sinners, Comfortess of the Afflicted, you know my wants, my troubles, my sufferings. Look upon me with mercy. When you appeared in the grotto of Lourdes, you made it a privileged sanctuary where you dispense your favors, and where many sufferers have obtained the cure of their infirmities, both spiritual and corporal. I come, therefore, with unbounded confidence to implore your maternal intercession. My loving Mother, obtain my request. I will try to imitate your virtues so that I may one day share your company and bless you in eternity. Amen.

All the Bread We Need

Mark 8:14-21

14 The disciples had forgotten to bring bread, and they had only one loaf with them in the boat. 15 Jesus enjoined them, “Watch out, guard against the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod.”16 They concluded among themselves that it was because they had no bread.17 When he became aware of this he said to them, “Why do you conclude that it is because you have no bread? Do you not yet understand or comprehend? Are your hearts hardened? 18 Do you have eyes and not see, ears and not hear? And do you not remember, 19 when I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many wicker baskets full of fragments you picked up?” They answered him, “Twelve.” 20 “When I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many full baskets of fragments did you pick up?” They answered him, “Seven.” 21 He said to them, “Do you still not understand?”

As I played this scene in my head this morning, I was grateful that Jesus was not just a teacher, but the most patient teacher there ever was. How frustrating it must have been, after demonstrating how five loaves could feed five thousand, or the seven loaves could feed four thousand, that his disciples, the very men who had been walking with him and listening to his teachings firsthand, could still miss the point of his lessons. How he must have shaken his head, that after talking about greater things, his men could still be hung up on the basic needs that he had proven to be already covered through faith and action.

Bread basket at the Green Dragon Inn, New Zealand

In the past, I taught law students about legal writing and research, and much as I loved to pass on my tips and techniques, I got easily frustrated when, even after several exercises and projects, my students still committed the same mistakes during the final exams.

They concluded among themselves that it was because they had no bread. I imagined this scene and almost laughed out loud, thinking of the disciples, looking at each other, whispering, with puzzled expressions, trying to make sense of what their teacher was saying. In that scene, I could not fathom the depth of Jesus's patience, but could easily relate to the disciples' stubborn confusion.

I felt the Lord lovingly asking me, in my life, if I could remember how He had provided for me, and how there was always more than what I ever needed.

 Ella, do you have eyes and not see, ears and not hear? And do you not remember? Do you still not understand?

I smiled as I recalled the "wicker baskets of fragments" that I was able to pick up after each answered prayer; the abundance, the generosity, the magnitude that always accompanied an event or milestone in my life, by the grace of God, especially the past year.

As I, voluntarily, face another impossible turning point in life, and Jesus speaks to me, I hope to hear what He is really saying, and not conclude to myself that it was because I forgot to bring bread in this castaway boat. May my heart and attitude be changed, and my feelings be lifted. May I see that I already have Jesus, my savior, and nothing should be impossible for me. Like the disciples and my law students, this lesson has to be repeated until learned.

For a bible study on leaven, I read this very helpful article.  

Workout for the Heart

Better is open rebuke than hidden love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy. (Proverbs 27:5-6)

A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.  (Proverbs 18:24) 

Waves and Cliffs (Great Ocean Road)

I came across a quote today that brought on a search for what the Proverbs said about friendship. This is the quote:

The most memorable people in life will be the friends who loved you when you weren't very lovable.

This spoke to me because I was not a very good friend during my gap year. Aside from being far away from my friends, I was too moody, sensitive, and emotional. They would probably argue that I had always been all those, but distance and the luxury of time allowed me to embrace those parts of me more, and to accept them.

I didn't even try to be lovable. I express my love language through service, quality time, and giving gifts. How could I exercise those three by being in another country?

I was selfish the past year. All I thought about was how to improve myself, how to face my demons, how to break my barriers, and how to reach my dreams. Of course I had the noble purpose of getting healed so I could be a better person and friend. But still, I must have been a pain to listen to, or read.

I must be getting on in years, too. I am ready to say that I do not need a whole village anymore, just a few friends.

My heart was pierced recently, and I thought it would break completely. My SD reminded me that my heart is a muscle, and it needed the exercise to be stronger. Well if pain was the workout for my heart, then I had a lot of opportunities to strengthen it.  

And the true friends are the ones who loved me when I wasn't very lovable, and who did not hide their love even if it meant staying through my storms and saying the painful words.

As for the rest, I will try to let go without regret. Maybe as the wounds heal, so shall the memories, and I will hold no grudges, only gratitude.

He Calls; I Follow.

"My sheep hear my voice, says the Lord; I know them, and they follow me." - John 10:27

Sheep in New Zealand

It is time again to listen closely and firmly to that one voice who calls. I am at peace, knowing I am with him.

Another Season of Farewells

I am going home soon. The OFF year is ending. The ON year is coming.

It is the lunar new year's eve, so it is still a good time to contemplate on new beginnings.

Being far away from home, from all that was familiar, all that I could (or tried to) control, and all that I had going for me, has changed me a lot. It has also introduced me to deeper levels of my idiosyncrasies.

A person can only take rejection from the world so much, and the past year was an exercise in that. Whereas before I could easily cry on a friend's shoulder, this time I had to face my challenges more squarely in the face, as most of my friends are overseas. Although I still asked for help where available, the usual suspects could not easily come with a cup of coffee to sort out my life for me. Those that had internet access received broken accounts of incomprehensible (foreign, actually) events and realizations, and gave advice based on incomplete narrations. Long distance friendship has been a lesson in independence, one that I needed to take.

I had dinner with some friends last night, the start of my farewell season I guess, and they said they thought my life was all about travel and meeting new people and living a relaxed life. When they learned of some of my misadventures, they realized how deceiving social media could be. Friends are great, they cheer me up for some time, as one of my favorite songs puts it. After an evening of laughter, I came home to the harsh realities of life: I need to get the next chapter of my life going.

But the heart wants what it wants. Therein lies the problem. That has always been my problem. Maybe I want too many things. Maybe I list down too many dreams. Maybe I am never satisfied. Maybe I am a restless soul.

I am very grateful for being where I am and for receiving the kind of support that I did not deserve. I know that God is the one who is in charge of the fine print, and all I have to do is wake up and embrace the day. But I want to know more. Where all this will lead. Why those mistakes happened. Who are the people to rely on at this time. What more I could do to express my heart's desires. How I am going to reconcile my head and my heart. The furthest distance I've ever known is from my head to my  heart. Old songs are filling my head again.

In a moment of gratitude, I counted my blessings: the indisputable truths, the undeniable skills, the incomparable endowments, the unchanging advantages. I told myself to not let any rejection take those away from me, for they were mine and what made me unique, even special. If people did not recognize that, then it is really their loss.

I just need to learn not to feel like I am the one who lost me.

Furthermore, and this is more important, I have a constant, unflinching, loving God. He knows me best. I have been talking to Him in prayer; He is in charge. He will not let me down. He is taking away all that is not good for me. His denials are His greatest mercies. I have proven and tested countless times how He works behind-the-scenes and how He always provides the happy ending.

It is because I have this God that I am not losing hope in anything, although everything is still uncertain.

One thing at a time. For now, this is certain: I am going home, and that is where I am meant to be.

  

A Philippians 4 Moment

What I'm learning is that we can't have everything. We can have some good things, but not have the other things. And as my niece would say, "That's okay."

The thing I also want to learn, and hope to become, is how to be consistently cheerful and grateful in all circumstances. To remember that the God I know is not bound by any human limitations - that even if January did not start out well for me, that does not mean God cannot turn things around and make February to December rosy.

It's a matter of perspective, and I don't want to be consumed by the rejections and uncertainties that seemed to start my new year.

God is not bound by years, and I put my faith in that. I try to live each day and find what I am called to do, and to respond to it. Times like these, I am most able to surrender to Him the things I cannot handle.

I sometimes ask for a miracle, but I need it more often than I ask for it. This year, I need a miracle a day.

Heavenly father, I entrust these worries and difficulties to you. I know I am not meant to carry them alone. Please show me the way. You alone are the one who knows what I am going through.

This is a Philippians 4 moment.

4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. 5 Let all men know your forbearance. The Lord is at hand. 6 Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
  

8 Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 9 What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, do; and the God of peace will be with you. 10 I rejoice in the Lord greatly that now at length you have revived your concern for me; you were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. 11 Not that I complain of want; for I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content. 12 I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound; in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want. 13 I can do all things in him who strengthens me. 14 Yet it was kind of you to share my trouble.

A Renewal of My Baptism

Today is the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord.

During the homily, the priest said that being one with Jesus in baptism, God is speaking to each and every one of us as well with these words, heard from a voice in heaven:

‘This is my Son, the Beloved; my favour rests on him.’

I tried to listen to that, to God speaking to me. "This is my daughter, Ella; my favour rests on her."

I could picture God being proud of Jesus, He who has fulfilled this prophecy, from the first reading today:

Isaiah 42:1-4,6-7 ©
Thus says the Lord:
Here is my servant whom I uphold,
my chosen one in whom my soul delights.
I have endowed him with my spirit
that he may bring true justice to the nations.
He does not cry out or shout aloud,
or make his voice heard in the streets.
He does not break the crushed reed,
nor quench the wavering flame.
Faithfully he brings true justice;
he will neither waver, nor be crushed
until true justice is established on earth,
for the islands are awaiting his law.
I, the Lord, have called you to serve the cause of right;
I have taken you by the hand and formed you;
I have appointed you as covenant of the people and light of the nations,
to open the eyes of the blind,
to free captives from prison,
and those who live in darkness from the dungeon.

But of Ella? It was not easy picturing that one. I felt undeserving of such favour. I felt unworthy of such honor. The priest was certain, however, that God included me in that blessing.

I looked in my heart and my definition of worthiness, and put it down. For I knew I would never be worthy, and I only struggled to become someone I could not be. With His grace, I could accomplish what He wanted me to do next. I could still serve Him and be part of a ministry that is pleasing to Him again.

Since I had nothing, I was very open to God's leading. During offertory, I lifted up to God all of me again. And I received Him in communion, in my undeserving heart, and believed that He only had to say the word and my soul, my very tired and sometimes confused soul, would be healed.

Great Ocean Road, Victoria, Australia

Now Showing: Frozen

I went to see the Disney movie "Frozen" yesterday with my four-year-old niece. It was her second time to watch it, but a first for me. I already knew the story by heart, however, as she made me and everyone in the household read her storybooks almost thrice daily.

In this post I will not discuss the debates surrounding the movie re feminism and the Disney-fication of a beloved classic, "Snow Queen." You can jump to this article for that and more links. I am not an expert on either subject matter.

My niece's take is totally different from mine, that's for sure. She focused on the little girls' games, the snowman, the marshmallow man, and the reindeer. It was a delight to watch her with her tiny 3D glasses, sitting at the edge of her seat, squealing in delight at her favorite scenes.

Despite my job as a mere movie companion, I found myself relating to the Snow Queen herself.  I liked her icy, translucent gown, to start with. And the freedom she enjoyed while unleashing her powers and being herself on top of the North Mountain held such a compelling image for me. I wanted that. The music helped to seal the deal: this is my current favorite Disney princess movie as well.

Elsa, the Snow Queen, thought she could isolate herself and not hurt anybody. But Anna, her warm, passionate, and persistent sister, showed her that Elsa's powers affected their kingdom down below and buried it in deep, deep, deep, deep, snow. Elsa was frustrated because she did not know how to bring back summer, and despite trying so hard not to hurt anyone, she still ended up hurting the ones she loved the most.

I will not put spoilers here, because those inclined should go watch the movie in 3D. But I must say that Elsa's journey showed me how I should accept my powers (gifts or skills or talents), and instead of hiding who I really am and what I can do, I should learn to just become Ella and trust that there is a place where I can unleash those powers and learn to control them.



The above song was performed by Idina Menzel, whose concert was my first at the Sydney Opera House, only last year. It really spoke to me powerfully.

The movie resolves its conflict by concluding that "an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart."

My own story does not have a conclusion yet. At heart, I am more like Anna. Mine is not the frozen heart.

In photo below: Refusing to be frozen last winter in a farm in Victoria, the hills were alive with the sound of Ella. And the cows moo-ing behind me.

A beautiful farm in Flowerdale, Victoria

After the Gap, Then What?

I came across this today on Twitter and found it apt for the start of 2014:

A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking because her trust is not in the branch but in her own wings. Believe in yourself.

I know the voice within me is speaking and I am listening. I may be closer than I think to the answers.

I felt that last year, I was carried by the love and support of family, friends, and friends of friends. But I also recognized that even their well-meaning suggestions have to give way to what I want to do with my life after my gap year.

Good old Google yielded the following definition for "gap," my keyword for study:

gap

noun

1.  a break or hole in an object or between two objects.
2. a space or interval; a break in continuity.
"there are many gaps in our understanding of what happened"
synonyms: pause, intermission, interval, interlude, delay, break, breathing space,breather, respite, hiatus; 

The second definition speaks to me: "a break in continuity." The last synonym states it well: "hiatus."

It will take time to make sense of things, to process what "the two objects" are, to go back to my "continuity." The gap served its purpose well. I had a good break. I found space to embrace myself. 

It is not over yet as I did not follow the calendar year, but already, I find my heart moving, searching for permanence. I will believe that though the branch I'm sitting on might break, my wings are strong enough to lift me up. The branch is not mine; it belongs to the tree.

The wings, however, are mine. And these wings shall set me free.

A Beautiful Year

With the One Tree Hill obelisk behind me (Auckland)

This was a beautiful year for me. Imperfect, but beautiful. Take, for example, this photo of my smiling face in Auckland, New Zealand. This would not have been shot if I had not opened myself to new opportunities, or had I not walked into open doors, leaving all my inhibitions and worries behind. (Well, not all of them.)

You know what I mean.

I would probably write more about my travels in my other blog. This blog right here is about my faith journey, and I what I share here (mostly) are my discoveries in my interior life.

When I decided to follow my heart and take a year off, I did not have the whole year mapped out. I was not sure if things would work out. I did not know if I had the endurance to pull it off. I was sure I lacked faith. I just took the leap anyway.

I climbed Jacob's Ladder! (Auckland, NZ)

Looking back now, I am grateful that I went through this journey. I climbed new mountains and built new dreams in the process. I saw clearly that the Lord was working completely in my life. It was not so much that I was assured that everything would be all right. In fact, I had more tears than cheers the past few months. I had, however, the certainty and conviction that I was not alone,and  that God had my back.

Embracing life at somebody's shipwreck island, Great Ocean Road, Victoria

During this beautiful year, I saw many beautiful places and met many beautiful people. They welcomed me with open arms and I embraced them, sometimes happily, other times tearfully. It was amazing how much blessings and grace (so much grace) poured in when I surrendered myself to the Lord's provision. When it ceased to be about what I could accomplish with my skills, wit, or charm, and more about reaching a point of helplessness and despair so that I would pray for a miracle, the miracle happened.

Twelve Apostles, Great Ocean Road, Victoria, Australia

Along the way, I made many mistakes. It was inevitable as I am human. But when (or if) I grow old, I will look back at those mistakes as the spices that made the year even more colorful and eventful. I have no regrets.

The next year is not certain. Where I shall live, or work, or stay - all these are under reconsideration. I am full of fear as usual. But there is courage. And strength. And hope. My heart has expanded. My faith, many times tested, has grown. I walk on no longer asking the Lord if He will be there, for now I know. He is with me everywhere. He is my home.

At last I can say that for me there is God, and God alone. Do you know this song?

God Alone
by John Keating

God alone, God alone
In Your courts, O my Lord, is my home
You are my treasure, my portion delight of my soul
My life, my salvation, my fortress, my God, and my all
O my soul, claim nothing as Your own
For You there is God and God alone

I started singing "God Alone" in 1993. It took me 20 years to fulfill it. Incidentally, I only realized it now (!), last October 2013, I had been following the Lord in a personal way for 20 years.

I am right now a soul claiming nothing as my own. It was a beautiful year. It has been a beautiful 20 years.

Reflections After Typhoon Haiyan (Yolanda)

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours. - Teresa of Avila (1515–1582) 

Not many Filipinos are getting proper sleep these days, wherever they are in the world, after super typhoon Haiyan (local name: Yolanda)  flattened entire cities and towns, claimed lives, and destroyed property in unprecedented levels. Most are doing everything to actually help the victims. The rest of us who are abroad are bothered and depressed.

The Philippines is used to typhoons. Filipinos are, as a result, no stranger to weathering storms and rebuilding lives. But this is the worst disaster to have hit us, which resulted to what eyewitnesses have described as apocalyptic scenes. Almost every Filipino is either anxious to hear from his/her relatives who are cut off from all communication lines in the islands, or know someone who is in that difficult state.

Since I was not there physically, and I had been glued to Twitter/Facebook/CNN almost 24/7 to catch every bit of useful information I could find and pass on, I was left with two choices: tear my hair in frustration, or Do Something. But what could I do? I was too far away and in another time zone at that, to pack relief goods or to help clean up debris. I could not fly a plane, or simply fly, no matter how much I wanted to. But I could pray.

I realized what I should be doing more of: interceding in prayer, instead of being an armchair critic of the government. I could pray for the media personalities, that their reporting may be helpful; for the government officials, that they be up to the challenge on their shoulders; and for the international community, that they find where their help is needed most.

I went to mass last Sunday and the parish priest in that Sydney suburb talked about the Gospel in ways that soothed me even as thousands of innocent people had just died in central Philippines.



I sat there in church, helpless, questioning God, and He answered me by showing me the eternal perspective, and that reminding me that earth is not the final destination of the typhoon victims. They have a Heaven to come home to, where their sufferings shall come to an end. And Jesus is waiting for them there.

As the outpouring of help flooded from all over the world, I saw on social media how Filipinos did what they did best. They volunteered their time and resources for the relief operations, with the bayanihan spirit. Still, the search and rescue operations were hampered by another tropical depression and the sheer difficulty of moving through a virtual wasteland.

I stared at photographs of my dead countrymen and cried silent tears of helplessness. Yes we have poor people, weak infrastructure, and a corrupt system. But it is my hope that the desolation brought by typhoon Haiyan will give birth to a new Philippines.

When I opened my Bible readings for 12 November, the words went straight into my heart. I had been praying for those who perished and those who were still suffering as aid was slow in coming. After reading these words, I knew that our God is with them.

But the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace.

When the just cry out, the Lord hears them, and from all their distress he rescues them. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; and those who are crushed in spirit he saves.

First Reading and Psalm for 12 November 2013:

Wisdom 2:23-3:9

23 God formed man to be imperishable; the image of his own nature he made him. 24 But by the envy of the devil, death entered the world, and they who are in his possession experience it. 3: 1 But the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. 2 They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction 3 and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. 4 For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; 5 chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. 6 As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. 7 In the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble; 8 they shall judge nations and rule over peoples, and the Lord shall be their King forever. 9 Those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with him in love: Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with the elect.

Psalm 34:2-3, 16-17, 18-19
R: I will bless the Lord at all times. 

I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall be ever in my mouth. Let my soul glory in the Lord; the lowly will hear me and be glad. (R)

The Lord has eyes for the just, and ears for their cry. The Lord confronts the evildoers, to destroy remembrance of them from the earth. (R)

When the just cry out, the Lord hears them, and from all their distress he rescues them. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; and those who are crushed in spirit he saves. (R) 

Before going to bed last night, I worried about the people who were still going without food and water after five days. And I remembered when our Lord Jesus fed the multitudes. He asked first the disciples what they had. I reflected on this, and saw that Jesus was asking us, what can we offer, and after we lift our offerings to Him, He can see to it that there is more than enough supply for every need. What is impossible becomes possible. Still, we need a system to distribute the food properly.

Corinne May wrote a beautiful song, Five Loaves and Two Fishes, and I wrote about it here. It is what I pray,

Take my five loaves and two fishes  

Do with it as you will

I surrender

Take my fears and my inhibitions

All my burdens, my ambitions

You can use it all to feed them all

I often think about that boy when I'm feeling small

And I worry that the work I do means nothing at all

But every single tear I cry is a diamond in His hands

And every door that slams in my face, I will offer up in prayer

So I'll give you every breath that I have

Oh Lord, you can work miracles

All that you need is my "Amen."

Now Showing: Spirit of Life Interviews

I have the privilege to share with you the insights of my personal coach, Corey Payton.

Last year, I wrote about Life After Life Coaching, and the deep impact it has made in my life. Recognizing my goals and identifying the hindrances from reaching those goals have been a major part of my decision to take a year off from full-time work to be more in touch with who I want to become. Yes, my Gap Year discernment started with the coaching sessions.  I went through formal spiritual direction/counseling with a priest a few months after that (see New Stop in the Journey) but I was greatly helped by my personal coach.

Corey was interviewed on Melbourne TV recently. It aired on two episodes of Spirit of Life. He talks about his faith journey since childhood in the first episode.



The second interview is more about coaching and the topics he is going to discuss when he speaks before the Christian Singles Conference this November.



I was blessed by his sharing and his insights, and I am sure many people will be when they watch this video and attend this conference.

Corey is behind Life Horizons Coaching and is an active part of Evergreen. 

Guest Post: The Fresh Wind of the Spirit of God

(Blogger's Note: The Catholic faithful are asking questions about the Pope's recent interviews. Here is an analysis of the nuances behind the Pope's answers and clarifies how, even as he brings a breath of fresh air, Pope Francis and his message are consistent with Church doctrine.)

 

The Fresh Wind of the Spirit of God

Fr Steven Tynan, MGL

Pope Francis is certainly causing a bit of a stir in the press. There are many applauding what he has to say and also many expressing consternation with positions that he seems to be taking, or that people claim that they can read or discern in his statements and interviews. There are those in the media painting the new pope as a ‘breath of fresh air’ and a liberal based upon some of his comments to media and peripheral statements made in interviews.

Is Pope Francis about to challenge or even change the Church’s position on various moral or doctrinal issues? Is he going to open the way for the liberalization of theology and morality? I think not! If one reads the more in depth interviews that he has made over the years, and I speak here particularly of his extensive dialogue with the then Chief Rabbi of Argentina, Abraham Skorka, available to us all under the title of “On Heaven and Earth,” New York: Image, 2013 [trans.]), one will see that Pope Francis is about as orthodox as they come in his views on morality and doctrine. Those who suggest he has a liberal streak or are drawing conclusions that he is about to change the Church’s teachings in these areas have either not read this discussion or choose to ignore it and grasp at phrases taken out of context in the more widely available statements and interviews of and with the pope.

My attention has been called to the recently published interview with Antonio Spadaro, S.J. that appeared in a number of journals including America (Sept 30, 2013), where some are suggesting that they read a radical repositioning of the Church under the watch of Pope Francis. Is this true? Let us briefly look at this interview and see what the pope has to say in it.

For me the first major point Pope Francis makes is that he wants to enter into dialogue and discernment concerning first and foremost the things that really matter. He mentions this in the context of one of the mottos of John XXIII concerning good governance in that one should “see everything; turn a blind eye to much; correct a little." This he argues is derived from the vision of Ignatius, “not to be limited by the greatness and yet to be contained in the tiniest – this is the divine.” (Non coerceri a maximo, sed contineri a minimo divinum est.) The Pope is not advocating blissful ignorance of the problems facing the Church but saying that through careful and patient dialogue we must identify the right way(s) in which to lay the foundations for moving forward in the work of the Church. Many would suggest that the idea of spiritual discernment is at the heart of what Ignatian spirituality offers the Church, and thus it is not a surprise if it will be at the centre of Pope Francis’ papacy. Pope Francis notes that this will require patience and commitment.

The second point that really drew my attention was the pope’s use of the image of the Church as a Field Hospital. The pope is calling for a Church that has to the ability to heal wounds and minister mercy. It is the duty of the pastors of the Church to walk with and attend to the needs of their flock and see that no one gets left behind. Bishops should be in their dioceses and priests in their parishes and ministries so that the first priority of the Church, preaching the Gospel on every street corner is a living reality. This call to conversion of heart to the point that the hearts of the faithful ‘burn’ with faith and love like the disciples on the road to Emmaus (Lk 24), needs to be the Church’s first concern.

Its second concern needs to be a comprehensive catechesis that forms the faithful in the ways of the Holy Spirit. Only when the faithful’s hearts are converted to Christ and formed in his mind and heart will it be possible to successfully address the third concern, namely the issues that confront the faithful in their moral lives and their relationship with a secular society. If we make the first focus the issues, which some might argue has been a tendency of late, then the danger will be that the Church spends all its energies trying to convince people of Church teaching without any common understanding or foundation. I believe the pope is of the opinion, and it is something that I would agree with, that if we can foster living relationships with God as the general experience of the faithful then there will be a desire for formation and catechesis that will lead to a situation where the issues, particularly the moral ones, will ‘work themselves out of their own accord’ within the context of a lived experience of faith. Why? If the work of true conversion is ongoing in our lives then we will not be focused on the ‘issues’ but on deepening our relationship with Jesus Christ! This is what truly matters; conversion gives a person a totally new perspective and means by which to approach any moral or doctrinal issue. So, Pope Francis wants the Church to rediscover its identity as ‘proclaimer of the Kingdom of God’ and ‘the community of the faithful,’ as this is at the heart of the way forward as he sees it.

For Pope Francis the life of discipleship is a journey, an adventure to be undertaken with passion and patience. We must make room for God in our lives and not just expect him to fit in where it is convenient to us. We will make mistakes, all people do, but if these mistakes are made within the context of our seeking God above all things, they will be learning experiences as well as mistakes. The dogmatic certainty that Pope Francis wants us to have first and foremost is the belief and trust that God is working in every person’s life. We are all in search of our identity as sons and daughters of God and as we embrace this journey of seeking and discovering God in the midst of our daily lives, we cannot afford to lose sight of either our humanity or God’s compassion – his desire to be with us as Immanuel.

In summary, we as members of the Church or the Church as a whole cannot reconstruct our lives or the institution of the Church with the starting point of doctrinal purity. Faith is a lived relationship and so our focus and that of the Church must first and foremost be evangelization whereby that relationship is established. It is pastoral concerns, proclaiming and witnessing to the truth that God wants to draw near to us, and our drawing close to him, that have the highest priority. Secondly, the relationship must be nourished through thorough catechesis. And finally the issues, moral and doctrinal, can be addressed.

It is imperative that the Church gets the emphasis right and continually focusing on the issues that only result in division will not build a healthy and loving community. Our faith community is built on the common element of God’s love for all mean and women and this has to be the starting point of both evangelization and pastoral practice. Once our relationships have been thoroughly nourished in God’s Word and the life of the Holy Spirit, we will be ready to address the various doctrinal and moral issues in detail.

 

 

The Victorian Adventure and The Strange Feeling of Happiness

There was one night recently when I suddenly thought that I was being prepared to die. I could not sleep, so I prayed, i.e., talked to God. I said if my time here on earth was up, then I would embrace it wholeheartedly. I was ready to see Him. I would not cling on to the what-ifs and should-have-beens.

No, I was not diagnosed with a fatal disease; at least, not yet. In fact, I seemed to have become healthier than ever. No, the morbid but slightly appealing thought of impending death crossed my mind because I felt I was deliriously, and undeservedly, happy.

Yes, you read that right.  I was happy, blessed, treated royally, served lavishly, loved unabashedly. Ergo, I thought I was going to die. Because it was such a strange circumstance and I did not know how to deal with it.  I could not make sense why people were being good to me.  I could not understand what I had done to deserve such treatment! I was a little bit deranged probably, but that was another story.

These thoughts about my life and how it surely was coming to an end occurred while I was staying in a charming bedroom in a friend's house in Melbourne.  It was the third house I had been welcomed to in the same number of days.  A couple of days before, I had flown to the state of Victoria, to a city named Avalon, a beautiful name for a place that could considered to be the middle of nowhere.  A friend, a different one, fetched me and instead of bringing me directly to her family's farm, offered to give me one night's rest in their holiday home.  On the beach.


The beach?! I gave in to momentary panic, regretting why I did not bring my Speedo gear and flattering black swimsuit. She calmed me when she said that it was a Victorian beach, and we were in the middle of winter, so instead of balmy weather, I should expect a Wuthering Heights scene, and I should be covered up.  Not long after that, I found myself in the middle of a setting for one of my favorite novels as a teenager.  Heathcliff could most likely have been born in such a place where waves splashed harshly on unstable cliffs and the chilly wind bit faces and fingers.  I was awash with emotions I did not have time to process.  They were within the vicinity of happiness.

And then, this First Friend asked if I liked fish and chips. I said I did not - because I loved it! Due to my enthusiasm, she decided to cook it instead of buying. So she left me to rest my tired feet in their warm holiday home and went to buy provisions - the necessities of life: salmon, shrimps, scallops, ice cream, chocolates, and wine. The conversation that flowed out of this abundant feast for two was life-changing. First Friend had pastoral gifts among many other things, and ministered to me spiritually aside from seeing to it that I was nourished physically. I was blown away.  The fact that the house had Italian tiles in its bathroom was just a bonus for me, a girl who liked bathrooms.  I also saw black swans while I was there, and I hummed the Tchaikovsky ballet, which was quite perceptive of me apparently, as the place she took me to was actually called Swan Lake. Oh, that house. The bedroom was exquisite. The view was marvelous. The garden was lush and majestic. I am not exaggerating.

The next day, I had a prior appointment in the city with Second Friend.  He took time off from his busy schedule to show me around Melbourne. We started with the Monet exhibit, which I suffered through because of a migraine attack. I lost him as I tried to manage the multimedia effect of the Impressionist colors, the audio narration, the exhibit texts, amid waves of nausea. The last part of the beautiful exhibit was a glimpse of the artist's actual garden through actual footage displayed on huge surround screens.  People prone to motion sickness were warned not to continue.  I was determined not to let any migraine mar my experience so I sat at the very back, leaned my head against the choicest seats in the room, and let Monet's vision for his garden, his lilies, his roses, and his house surround me.  I felt opened up to my own art and gifting, and an idea rested in me - that I, like Monet, should not be afraid of being overtaken by what I needed to share with the world. My canvas was my paper.  My brush was the pen.  My lilies were words. I was meant to write, and who knows, my voice could be preserved, just like Monet's work.

I know, I could be labeled as deranged and delusional, but I was not fully myself that day. I made it to the museum shop and splurged on the master's work in the form of key rings, book marks, playing cards, and a single reprint of "Taking a walk in Argenteuil," to inspire me when I went back to my ordinary life. As I was paying, I massaged my aching forehead. The cashier had to ask if I was all right, and I confessed that I was having a migraine attack and could pass out any minute. An old lady who was next in line quietly offered Panadol Osteo.  My mother had warned me not to accept medicines from strangers, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I accepted the drugs and let the cashier lead me to where I could drink water and sit down. It took Second Friend a few minutes to find me, and I saw a stricken look on his face when he finally did.

And so I walked the streets of Melbourne's Arts Centre with Second Friend constantly asking if I needed to be taken to the hospital. I kept saying no but could not shake my head - too dizzy. I still managed to smile in front of the camera whenever we were near famous spots like the National Gallery of Victoria, the Flinders Street train station, and the old and charming laneways. A Third Friend rang me up to ask if I wanted to have coffee, and I said yes because I was looking forward to experiencing Melbourne's famous coffee culture.

The coffee did not disappoint and so did the sticky date pudding that I hungrily chowed down, and I instantly felt better. Third Friend took over being my tour guide, and we waited for a brief hail shower to end - that was Melbourne's Four Seasons in a Day for me - before he showed me to some of the best malls in the city.  We also had a restful stop at the St. Francis Church, and I felt at home with Francesco and Clara of Assisi, two of my favorite saints. I lit some candles and said a prayer of thanksgiving for all the blessings for this magnificent year.  And then we had to make our way to the bus that would take me to the farm, and Third Friend masterfully led me through trams and trains to make it just in time for boarding.  Before that, he insisted on buying a gift for me: T2 tea, something I had always wanted to taste, as their shops were very colorful and inviting. I said it was my birthday earlier that week so I was allowing such expenditure.  No, I didn't say that. I just thanked him for giving me chamomile and lavender - and giving me some rest.

I made it to the farm in the dark, thanks to my iTunes music, mobile phones, a very vigilant bus driver, and First Friend who still had many surprises up her sleeve. It consisted of steak for dinner, medium rare; some red wine that tasted like golden liquid through my throat; lively conversation with her and her brilliant father whom I called Tito (Uncle in Tagalog); and a quaint little attic bedroom that had floral pink bedsheets. It was winter but I was warmed not just by the fireplace, but by the hospitality of the people around me. I was dangerously falling into happiness.

I woke up to the sounds of a Victorian farm. I had a rich prayer time and I told God how excited I was for that day ahead, as I was going to see some old friends who were going to the farm for lunch. First Friend prepared a banquet of food. Old Friends hugged me and reminded me of our bond even with the distance and time that separated us. After lunch, we took a walk around the farm. It was the coldest day of my life and my nose proved it. Yet, I enjoyed the walk. Young Friend accompanied me, making sure I did not slip and slide, taking my photos, entertaining me with his stories. Back to the farm house (which looked nothing like the farm houses of my imagination, for it was much more beautiful, straight out of a Donna Hay cookbook, actually); my friends sang a Happy Birthday song. I protested in my head but outwardly expressed giggly thanks. I was only protesting because it was too much already. Like icing on the cake! First Friend baked that cake, and some quince which I had never tried before, which we ate with ice cream and pure cream, not counting calories. At last, it was time to leave the farm, and I was very sad. But the thought of the friends waiting for me in the city allowed me to be cheerful, and on the road I enjoyed my catch up with my Small Big Brother, and we were each convinced of what to pray for the other.

I was treated like a princess, imagine that, me, the servant, by the MGL brothers, my old friends. Their tribe should really increase. That night I was dropped off at Fourth Friend's house by my adamant Young Friend, who already knew how to drive it made me tear up! I knew him when he was still an awkward, lanky teenager. He was maturing before my eyes. Fourth Friend had the central heating ready, and we shared a glass of wine before going to bed. She spruced up the guest room even if I said I only needed a bed. Clearly, that friend was an artist and her home was surrounded by her work and the inspiration that went behind it.

It was that night, on that lovely bed, that I wondered if I was about to die, for surely I was not meant to experience such happiness on this earth. It had a heavenly quality to it, like angels were planning my trip and I was just meant to receive everything with open arms. What a struggle!

The rest of my stay in Melbourne was equally magical: breakfast with Filipino brothers in an Italian cafe, lunch with Fourth Friend and her mom ("Tita"), afternoon tea and catch-up with another friend in a Jane Austen-level cafe (she knew how to pick them, and this was easily the prettiest cafe of all that I had visited on that trip), dinner with friends and a movie screening of "Of Gods and Men," which again made me remember heaven and earth and all that we are meant to do while preparing our hearts for God's kingdom.

On my last day, my hosts took time off again from work to show me around. I had brunch at yet another Italian cafe with Second Friend, with whom I never seemed to run out of things to share and process; and then Fourth Friend and Tita drove me to St. Patrick's Cathedral, where I paused again to pray and be grateful.  Third Friend came around (Melbourne was like my hometown, where everybody knew everybody), and we met up with more friends at yet another Italian coffee shop. Afterwards, we went home and Tita cooked her special spaghetti Bolognese! Then it was time to drive me to the Avalon airport. Fourth Friend had become like a younger sister, and she and Tita convinced me that I had to go back to Melbourne, for there was so much to see. I told them that what was important for that trip, rather than sightseeing, was catching up with old friends. I had that, and also made new friends.

To make this long story short, I did not die immediately after the Victorian Adventure, for I still had things to do on earth. But I surely had a taste of heaven, my friends. Enough to sustain me and let me deal with the ordinariness of life.

Okay, my life in Sydney is not ordinary at all, but you know what I mean.  A holiday is still a holiday, even if it feels like too much generosity and hospitality was showered on me. I am learning to deal with it comfortably, and without a trace of guilt.