Botswana, Southern Africa, May 13 2012 Journal Entry
Journal Entry: 13 May 2012 Gaborone, Botswana
Today, a Sunday, 13 May 2012, begins my first journal entry in a blog. This is an attempt to simply translate my present inner ramblings to printed words; not only for unloading and clearing my thoughts but perhaps also for keeps - for whatever purpose it may serve me or others in the future.
Lately, I've just been thinking...
Our life is our message. Whether life is short or eternal, everyone deserves a well-lived life; not a life lived in fear or one that is lived in sheer conformity for lack of a sense of inner or outer adventure. Facebooking my life in pictures has brought me messages from others that the choices that I have made has been an inspiration to them. Blogging has given me notes from others saying it has given them strength by reading how I have persevered to stick with my values in life amidst challenges. It's great to see how my seemingly soundless ways of expressing myself for my own very selfish purposes have served others, directly or indirectly. I have however deleted some of my entries that were filled with pain - simply because they were not my truth anymore. I may have either forgiven or forgotten - or found them no longer helpful for me to re-read. I would sometimes re-write them though, now in an angle of what I have learned from it and treat it no longer like a present moment; but simply as a point of reference - if I find the time to do so.
Life is but a dream; at least, that is how it feels like for me. When I look back, I could only see images from whatever I could retrieve from my memory - without emotions - joys nor pains. Sometimes I sigh in disbelief as to how it all felt SO real when I was in those moments; and now, they were but like scenes in a movie, that sticks for a while and dissipates in time. If I get lucky, I could still remember the names of the characters that played roles in those scenes. Maybe that's why I take lots and lots of pictures, because somewhere inside me; I know I will forget. The need to remember is more driven by the need to have something to draw strength and wisdom from - hopefully, to move forward and not backwards - or to simply be able to feel more grateful for that only thing I could truly experience fully - the now.
I live a hundred lives in one. The past 36 years felt like 36 lifetimes altogether. Each single year was drastically different from the other years especially since I turned 20. The year 2000 has also doubled the speed of change in my life. The movement from one place to another has a lot to do with it. It all began with my travels to the northern Philippines with my then new found friends and then in May 2001 to India..
My parents have always imprinted in me that life is a spiritual journey. So maybe I have taken the journey part a bit too literally. I took travel as my path to enlightenment; not the airplane rides - but finding a different me in every different place. In time my understanding of spirituality has progressed beyond prayers, meeting "holy people" and reading spiritual books; as well as beyond the fascination with the unseen and the future. It has moved into the experiences in the now, the little things of beauty, the simple yet profound relationships, to relationships with nature and myself. What the next place can bring or unfold in me - I don't know. My inner peace has been strengthened over time; and it is my hope that this continues.
Philippines, India, Norway and Botswana. These countries that we have lived in, including the people we met, worked with and the friends we made (including the diverse cultures and systems of the place) - have drastically impacted our lives, our perspective in life and us - as individuals. The plural includes my husband and my daughter as I witnessed those changes in them as well.
Egypt, Nepal, Thailand, France, South Africa and Spain were the places that have recharged our energies and renewed our sense of wonder in life.
Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Dubai, Hongkong, Singapore, Malaysia, Kenya and Muscat. The stop-overs. Those short and long airport hours may have not felt like a trip- but nevertheless those felt like a toe-dipping in a slit opening of those countries; meeting some of their people at the point of entry for a few hours or more; seeing those places from a bird's eye view and the surrounding airport environment gives us a brief feel of the atmosphere of the land.
USA and Mexico. I cannot discount these first foreign countries that I have visited when I was 13. These two countries have stuck with me (its joys and pains) for the longest time; since it's been another 11 years before I was able to leave the country (Philippines) again. And when I did, the winding and the whirling have never stopped ever since then.
The next destination. It's in the middle of nowhere; deep in the recesses of the unfathomable depth of silence. It is already confronting my fears. But I am already making plans on how to survive there in the next year or two. I will take pictures of the moss growing on those wooden houses and perhaps I will write about the snow resting on the broken bridge by the lake. It gives me a dreadful picture of where Hemingway had to hide to write his stories. Though I don't think that place is going to make a writer out of me - but I know, with so much hope, that there, I can ride my bike to work again and perhaps enjoy the leaves turn red and gold in the Fall. If that place will turn out to be a silent crucifixion for me, then perhaps there will be someone who will be saved by the sacrifice? I can only hope that it's me.
Travel has occupied my life (our lives- my family's life) in the past 12 years. I write so much about it because I am trying to make sense out of it. I am writing about it now again - because something is telling me, that our lives are about to change - once more.
Lately, I've just been thinking...
Our life is our message. Whether life is short or eternal, everyone deserves a well-lived life; not a life lived in fear or one that is lived in sheer conformity for lack of a sense of inner or outer adventure. Facebooking my life in pictures has brought me messages from others that the choices that I have made has been an inspiration to them. Blogging has given me notes from others saying it has given them strength by reading how I have persevered to stick with my values in life amidst challenges. It's great to see how my seemingly soundless ways of expressing myself for my own very selfish purposes have served others, directly or indirectly. I have however deleted some of my entries that were filled with pain - simply because they were not my truth anymore. I may have either forgiven or forgotten - or found them no longer helpful for me to re-read. I would sometimes re-write them though, now in an angle of what I have learned from it and treat it no longer like a present moment; but simply as a point of reference - if I find the time to do so.
Life is but a dream; at least, that is how it feels like for me. When I look back, I could only see images from whatever I could retrieve from my memory - without emotions - joys nor pains. Sometimes I sigh in disbelief as to how it all felt SO real when I was in those moments; and now, they were but like scenes in a movie, that sticks for a while and dissipates in time. If I get lucky, I could still remember the names of the characters that played roles in those scenes. Maybe that's why I take lots and lots of pictures, because somewhere inside me; I know I will forget. The need to remember is more driven by the need to have something to draw strength and wisdom from - hopefully, to move forward and not backwards - or to simply be able to feel more grateful for that only thing I could truly experience fully - the now.
I live a hundred lives in one. The past 36 years felt like 36 lifetimes altogether. Each single year was drastically different from the other years especially since I turned 20. The year 2000 has also doubled the speed of change in my life. The movement from one place to another has a lot to do with it. It all began with my travels to the northern Philippines with my then new found friends and then in May 2001 to India..
My parents have always imprinted in me that life is a spiritual journey. So maybe I have taken the journey part a bit too literally. I took travel as my path to enlightenment; not the airplane rides - but finding a different me in every different place. In time my understanding of spirituality has progressed beyond prayers, meeting "holy people" and reading spiritual books; as well as beyond the fascination with the unseen and the future. It has moved into the experiences in the now, the little things of beauty, the simple yet profound relationships, to relationships with nature and myself. What the next place can bring or unfold in me - I don't know. My inner peace has been strengthened over time; and it is my hope that this continues.
Philippines, India, Norway and Botswana. These countries that we have lived in, including the people we met, worked with and the friends we made (including the diverse cultures and systems of the place) - have drastically impacted our lives, our perspective in life and us - as individuals. The plural includes my husband and my daughter as I witnessed those changes in them as well.
Egypt, Nepal, Thailand, France, South Africa and Spain were the places that have recharged our energies and renewed our sense of wonder in life.
Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Dubai, Hongkong, Singapore, Malaysia, Kenya and Muscat. The stop-overs. Those short and long airport hours may have not felt like a trip- but nevertheless those felt like a toe-dipping in a slit opening of those countries; meeting some of their people at the point of entry for a few hours or more; seeing those places from a bird's eye view and the surrounding airport environment gives us a brief feel of the atmosphere of the land.
USA and Mexico. I cannot discount these first foreign countries that I have visited when I was 13. These two countries have stuck with me (its joys and pains) for the longest time; since it's been another 11 years before I was able to leave the country (Philippines) again. And when I did, the winding and the whirling have never stopped ever since then.
The next destination. It's in the middle of nowhere; deep in the recesses of the unfathomable depth of silence. It is already confronting my fears. But I am already making plans on how to survive there in the next year or two. I will take pictures of the moss growing on those wooden houses and perhaps I will write about the snow resting on the broken bridge by the lake. It gives me a dreadful picture of where Hemingway had to hide to write his stories. Though I don't think that place is going to make a writer out of me - but I know, with so much hope, that there, I can ride my bike to work again and perhaps enjoy the leaves turn red and gold in the Fall. If that place will turn out to be a silent crucifixion for me, then perhaps there will be someone who will be saved by the sacrifice? I can only hope that it's me.
Travel has occupied my life (our lives- my family's life) in the past 12 years. I write so much about it because I am trying to make sense out of it. I am writing about it now again - because something is telling me, that our lives are about to change - once more.
