I'm Back!

Hello! I'm back! 

Joyful (via Lizi)

I have missed coming to this sweet little space to reflect and write very, very dearly. I am happy to report that I am very much alive and kicking after having gone through a difficult week wherein both my heart and my body were, well, pretty much broken. 

It started with a struggle with self-doubt, wherein a chance encounter made me question myself and certain decisions I had made. My spirits sagging, my body then succumbed to a terrible flu (complete with chills, a sore throat, aches all over – the works). Feeling sad, sick, and very, very small, I hid under the covers, and found solace in popping vitamin C tablets and watching chick flicks. (Monte Carlo was one of them, a story I’ll tell you about later.)

But come the second half of the week, my situation greatly reversed, with doors opening unexpectedly, the Lord answering prayers even before I had the chance to utter them, and more blessings falling into my hands than I ever could have imagined. Faced with such hope and blessing, my heart and body had no other thing to do but heal.


It is good to be back.

And it is good to be grateful. And so I want to give my heartfelt thanks to the following for seeing me through this week:

• Numero Uno: God’s faithfulness and love;

• A husband who gives super good massages and adjusted his schedule so that he could bring me to my appointments for the week;

• A little girl who sings to me and makes paper flower bouquets to cheer me up, and does little chores around the house to help make things easier; 

• Wonderful children who remind me that what I do is a privilege, and that I am so blessed to be perpetually surrounded by their talent, their laughter, and their light;

• Partners, colleagues, and friends who make the load easier and,

• The ability of the heart and body to heal and start anew.

I'm back.

There are so many stories I wish to tell. And yes, I will be coming to this space several times this week to tell them :-)
 

Walking in the Rain

I fell in love with the rain when I was fifteen years old. It was during the summer, in one of those days in May when the rain drops in like a long lost visitor to remind you that it still exists, and to let you know that you will see more of it in the weeks to come.

It was also during a time when just a little bit of rain would immediately cause a power outtage in our village. It was thus too dark for me to read or doodle, and as a young, energetic, restless teenager, I had yet to discover the joys of sleeping in the whole day (a rare luxury that I, in my "old age," frequently yearn for but hardly ever get.)

In other words, I was very, very bored.

I had gazed morosely out the window and to my astonishment, saw my two friends Christian and Francis walking up to my front door. Both were soaking wet and smiling. I flew out the door even before they could knock, thanking them for saving me from the endless ocean of my boredom. They invited me to go out for a walk in the rain. 

Empty Nest?

Sophie joined my mother in law for an out of town trip early this morning. She was so excited, she started composing a song as I walked her to her grandma's house:

Oh I'm so excited

I don't know what to say

But the birds are singing

Just for you today

"Bye mom!" She sang in closing. I laughed and kissed her goodbye. I then turned and walked back to our house, and felt my heart sink slowly. I opened the door and as I entered, our little house immediately felt different. It felt so quiet, so solemn, and so much bigger than what it really was. It felt strange not to hear her foot steps as she moved about her room, her spontaneous little songs, her inevitable, insistent cries of "Mamaaaaaaaaaaaa! I need you," to which I, oftentimes in the middle of some chore, would find myself thinking "What is it now?"

I oftentimes sigh and complain that she is quite a handful for a little girl, but the truth is, we feel lost whenever she's gone. It's as if all the sunshine, laughter, and noise - oh the blessed, blessed noise - are swept into a vortex of a little girl and all that is left is Breath. Silence. Stillness. Waiting. Longing for the beautiful, powerful, joyful tempest to come back and wreak all her wonderful havoc on us and our home.

It's just been a few hours and already we miss her terribly.

Missing My Old Cave (An Ode to Merville)

My husband Pipo and I went apartment hunting today. As our lease in our humble yet lovely start-up home ends in November, we are now exploring our options. We both agree that we'd prefer for our money to go towards the monthly amortization of a home not borrowed but owned, and thus we are looking for a convenient, cozy, and reasonable space for our little party of three.

He is reasonably excited about one place we've been to. I, on the other hand, feel a little bit lost, a little bit blue, and a tad bit heartbroken.