Friday, November 26, 2010

Awakening

Fall. November 2009. Awakening Center in Brentwood, CA.


“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away... ”

BRENTWOOD, CALIFORNIA— Every morning for the last week or so, a sunrise like no other greets me the moment I wake up.

When I first came to this retreat center, I was frightened by the silence. The stillness was deafening. A solitary house on a hill surrounded by 17 acres of gentle hills and valleys punctuated by olive trees all around. A couple of days later, solitude has become my new best friend.

Out here, the morning skies are a tapestry of magnificent pinks and blues.

Each day, I hike down the hill and feel a little bit like Pooh, in his hundred-acre wood, though mine is much smaller. I walk over to my “thoughtful spot” on the property and write on my journal as I listen to the music on my Ipod which my daughter had lovingly put together for me before I left Manila last week.

In the late afternoons, I walk the labyrinth behind the house and watch the sunset casting its awesome orange glow on the mountains that surround the property.

I understand now how in the stillness you are able to hear yourself better and connect with all that is hidden within you. Every joy, every sorrow, every thought held captive rises to the surface and when it does, you catch it, stay with it and try to find the answers to the many questions that come with it.

Not an easy task to do, and not a comfortable one actually. But it is while I am here at Awakening that I have found myself living what Marcel Proust spoke about when he said: “The voyage of discovery lies not in seeking new landscapes, but in seeing with new eyes.”

In these breathless and sacred moments, nothing changes, and yet everything changes. When you take the time to step back and be still, relieving yourself of the day-to-day cares of the world and the voices that drown you out, you learn to see the world and your life with new eyes. The ground beneath you shifts, and everything, in that transformative moment, is changed forever.

Sometimes, in the rat race that is life, our spirits become sapped. Drained by negative energy and emotional vampires, tragedies and chaos, the day-to-day demands and responsibilities that pull at us from all over, the stress that is part and parcel of life.

Unless you make a conscious effort to break away from all of these, you will definitely burn out. The mother or father who takes care of a family, or the leader of an organization, will not be able to give enough if he or she has left nothing for the self. And this is not being selfish. To care for other people, you must take care and nurture yourself first.

Be in the light

Negativity is a given, in many shapes, sizes, colors and forms. I like what Wayne Dyer said: “The real you can always choose to remain impervious to non-peaceful entreaties. When others don’t come to you in peace, they can only reach the outer protective coverings. It is always about how you choose to process events, not the events themselves that determine your level of peace.”

Oftentimes, you tend to forget this and you let the sadness or the negativity swallow you, rather than just allowing it to slide over. “Always choose to be in the light,” Dyer says.

One of the more practical tips he offers is for one to literally move into a naturally lit area when one is overcome by gloom or doom.

“Whenever you find yourself thinking morbid thoughts it is imperative that you physically get up and let in some light. Then notice how much better you feel with the presence of light. Letting in the light literally allows you to erase the dark thoughts… The light is a faster energy and its presence is a symbol of the fact that God is the way, the truth and the light. Invite the light in the next time you experience morbid thoughts and notice the difference.”

In this corner of the world, fully bathed in light, I find myself blown away by yes, those breathless moments that are gifts from above. And while I know these moments are few and far between, I still need to appreciate the here and now for what it brings—gifts and lessons meant solely for me.

You need not travel far to find solitude, or to experience stillness. However, it helps to stay close to nature because sitting in the midst of all its serenity and splendor, one sees God’s signature. In doing so, we are able to hear Him more closely.

It need not be in the quiet hills of a retreat center in California, an ashram in India or resort in the Mediterranean. Within the city are pockets of quiet run by the religious, countless sanctuaries in the mountains of Baguio or Tagaytay, small areas of peace on the shores of Batangas, Bohol, Cebu or Palawan—wherever your heart (and okay, your pocket, too) leads you, go and be still there.

The important thing is to step back, even for a while, confront all that troubles you head-on, in the quiet of your heart, where you can shut the world out even for a couple of days. To pray, meditate, take quiet walks with yourself and take directions from the Big Guy up above.

Someone once told me, “What a lovely surprise to finally discover how un-lonely being alone can be.”

I did not understand it then, but after a week here, I do now. As the year draws to a close, and the so-called busiest month of the year is upon us, I hope that one way or the other, you are able to take time out to find your quiet spot.

Reflect and be thankful for what was, and with hope and renewed energy, look forward to what is yet to be. Let go of what is negative and leave no room for anger or bitterness, jealousy and hate.

In its place let there be only truth, forgiveness and peace and possibly, new beginnings. In the process, I wish you be blessed with a breathless moment or two, those moments that make for a life fully lived.

Published as "How I Discovered the Joy of Being Alone" in my column "Roots & Wings" in the Philippine Daily Inquirer's Lifestyle section, 15 November 2009

She's Back!

I know. It's been a while.

So much has happened since I last blogged at  Midlife Mysteries. Quite a lot, actually. My last entry over there was about a young girl named Tara Santelices whose life was cut short when she was shot inside a jeepney on the eve of her 23rd birthday.

That bog was marked by so much sadness and, okay, angst. In the throes of a major midlife crisis, it became my way of processing and probing, as the title suggested, the mysteries of midlife. Emotions raw, thrashing about, it was an exciting phase in my life.

Oh but I've changed so much since then.

Now I have become more still, peaceful and wiser, I hope. Tolerant too. But braver and more centered, or so I'd like to think. I'm entering a new phase in my life. A brave new world I like to call it, and if you're up to it, I'd like to invite you to come and navigate it with me.

So some days, except me to be deep. On some days, shallow and inane. Some days funny and fluffy, some days pensive and profound.  Finally, at 46, I've learned to embrace all the parts of me -- both the shadow and the light.

The child I once was, her name was Kate.  I found her again last year, after the turbulent midlife years had passed. She and I have become good friends and we're very happy together. I really missed her. I'm so glad she's back and finally home.