For those people who know me personally, you know exactly how much of an optimist and an idealist I am and how i love looking at the brighter side of things, because we should always be positive amidst the crisis, right? This time, however, I’d like to be completely honest. Recently, I was feeling down—sad, anxious and just not okay. Thus, the isolation. The detaching. The not-replying. The disconnecting.
I have all the time to listen closely to my thoughts and feelings but i was resisting it. I hated feeling what I was feeling because I thought I should be strong, eh? But hell, I’m not. I’m just human. A human being, not a “human doing” who’s tricked that you should always be doing things in order to be good, to be accepted, to be… human. But fact of the matter is, we are supposed to feel, all sorts of emotions (including those we label as bad), and that we are given this uncomfortable time to sit with it because no matter how much we avoid these unwanted emotions by distracting ourselves with Netflix and games and whatnot, we know, that it’s there. And gaahh, it’s killing me. But ironically, it also makes me feel alive—and let me tell you why.
Now that we’re approaching the so-called “Age of Aquarius” where everything spiritual is heightened, this is creating a holistic discomfort in all of us, worldwide. And I don’t mean that in a drama way. I mean, whatever is happening in the world right now is quite different, don’t you think? Hence, my point being is this: if you feel like dying without really approaching real death, that means you’re living. Okay, that’s quite esoteric but i hope you get what i mean.
Stepping into my highly philosophical self, i feel that everything that’s happening globally (that affects us on a personal level) is meant to happen, is meant to make us feel anxious, depressed, lonely and that it’s gonna be magnified even more because this is no longer the time of doing things the same old way. This is the time we break those old patterns that are no longer serving us well. Time to reflect on who you are in this world and how you can change for the better. Time to focus on your beingness. Time to convert mundane activities to purposeful ones. Time to create deeper connections than skin-deep ones. And most importantly, time to have faith, more than ever.
I hate admitting to people that I’m not okay. For reasons that i know everyone feels it too one way or another and that I don’t wanna burden those people around me and that they might think i have all the reasons to be grateful for and all that shit. But choosing to be vulnerable isn’t really a sign of weakness. It’s a sign that no matter who you think you are in this world, despite your worldly accomplishments and possessions, you are allowed to not be okay. Sit with it, journal it, listen and don’t ignore. Feel the pain until there’s nothing left. Everything falls into an equilibrium, anyway. Ah, my favorite word. And let me end this by saying something corny like, “We got this, humans!!!”
Promise me… that you will prove them wrong.
That the cuts they’ve left in your skin will be replaced with works of art that will inspire millions.
That no matter what happens, you will be dressed with a character your mother had always reminded you to wear.
And please promise me, to never lose “you” while you heal.
Because sometimes things won’t go as planned and you might be left behind.
And despite this inexorable fight, promise me you will never lose faith in yourself, that you’ll never cease from walking, for there’s no need to run.
You just got to live. Live and have fun.
You’re too young to be thinking too much.
The world is full of chaos but you’ve got to remain calm.
The star within you will shine bright when the time comes,
And it will come, I promise you.. it will come.
My bestfriend told me a story about a man who started from zero and then became a hero. A man who initially didn’t know what to do with his life and clueless about where to go. Someone who eventually found his calling through giving jobs to people by building his own manpower agency that has immensely grown into over 6000 employees. With this story, I found the answer.
She also told me that the guy told her that the reason why his business succeeded was because he didn’t focus on how much money he’s gonna make nor the technicals and fundamentals of it. He said that instead, he focused on how he could add value to people and how he could make an impact. That there is one minor detail most people tend to overlook in their quest for success, and that is the idea of being selfless.
This reminded me of an old mentor of mine who once told me that when you do something, and you do it for somebody else, the task becomes lighter. That no matter how hard the job is, when you think of the person or the people who serve as your inspiration, you will be fueled up with renewed enthusiasm day by day. I followed his advice and it worked for me. Years ago, I had the same secret as the guy my bestfriend told me about. Over the years of working hard, I was selfless. I thought about my parents and how I could possibly give them the best life they never had the chance to provide for us. I also thought about the kids I was raising funds for when I was working for International Charities and the people I train everyday so they can also add value to others. I never went home empty. I was always full charged with enormous happiness despite earning below average.
But my father got sick so I had to make a hard choice. I had to leave and find a better paying job. Luckily, i got hired in a Multinational Financial Institution with above average pay and great travel incentives. It was good—earning money and then you get to travel internationally for free. So I killed it. They had me compete with the best of the best. I failed and then I won. There was even a time I became number 1. And then I got hooked—to winning and competing. I indulged into the spell of numbers. I lost the purpose why I was doing what I was doing. I stopped working from the inside out. Thus I found myself going home quite empty despite earning more and winning often, which during that time I could hardly comprehend why.
But now I do. However, don’t get me wrong, because never did I regret that part of my life where I did lost my purpose and when a part of me went away with it.
For all that was missing was balance.
So I left, to start anew.
I gathered all the courage I could find to start this blog and at the same time be an entrepreneur. Although I just commenced my quest to creating that balance while realigning my purpose and finding real happiness and with an avalanche of obstacles in between, I’mpositive that this is only the beginning of something great.
By great I mean, touching more lives of people and helping them achieve what they want in my own little ways.
Truth is, I didn’t know why I ended up talking about myself. I promise, I didn’t want to. But my heart ordered my fingers to type, so that maybe people would get to read this and be inspired with whatever good I have enveloped in these words. I am no expert at life in general (atleast not yet lol) so I won’t be enumerating the highlights of this post just like how a motivational post should ideally end. Plus, this isn’t the genre I’m comfortable writing. Hence whatever is your take away from this post (if there’s any), I hope it has provoked you to look at things at a brighter perspective. Always, always look at the rainbow.
My mother used to tell me this when I was little. Back then I couldn’t really fathom its depth, neither what it meant to me, nor how it would have an impact in my life. Until a surprising event altered our lives—and my life as an only child.
Let me tell you a short story. A story of my life.
My mother was a chain-smoker and a frustrated writer. She didn’t get to publish her creations, but to me she was the best writer in the world. She has written countless fiction stories that she would read to me during bed time. She’s so creative, her imagination is limitless. She told me I was her inspiration, that most of the qualities of the protagonists in her stories are the ones she hoped I would have one day when I grew up. Sadly, I didn’t get any of them. I grew up disappointing her for being the girl who did not possess such character of a princess of strength. I just couldn’t be who she wanted me to be. I tried, but I failed. Expectations unmet, promises undelivered. I promised her I will continue what she has unfinished. That I will write stories that will change the world. But I couldn’t, I just couldn’t do it.
She would usually say, “Write a novel and put your heart in it. A fiction with words that would speak of love and inspiration.” Not the exact same words and tone of voice because for sure, she would have said it better. She’s my idol, but I despise the idea that she smokes two pack of cigarettes a day. She said that it helps her become more creative, hence I wasn’t able to do anything to stop her.
Unfortunately, it has taken its heavy toll on her.
Fast forward to today, my mother couldn’t even remember me. She has Stage 4 breast cancer and dementia, as per the doctors, which they said has nothing to do with her smoking that much cigs. How come? And why her? Every single day from the time we found out she was very sick, I have anticipated the nightmare of losing her and being alone. I’m scared, really scared. Nevertheless, I’m happy that she’s still with me, that I could take care of her, even though my Idol in her was now gone.
She would usually call me Ella or Mina, some of the girls from her stories. And then last night, I came home and saw her lying in her bed, staring blankly out of nowhere. I took advantage of that moment to study her, to remember all the memories we have shared when she was still sane. I felt that pinch in my heart, like a stab in the chest, but no blood came out. I then wished my mum comes back, even just for a short while, I murmured.
And even before the tears run down, she looked at me as if she’s calling me to come right beside her. So I did. I held her hand and closed my eyes as I rub them in my cheeks. My way of telling her how much I miss her and her bedtime stories. And when her left hand brushed my hair, I could no longer hold the tears from falling. They fell hastily like a bird who needs freedom. I freed all the tears my eyes could release. And she spoke to me the words she would always tell me when I was young:
“Have courage and be kind, Darling..” she wiped my tears and smiled after saying those words. My wish was granted. My mother’s sanity was back, she’s back and she remembered me!
Ah, really? Guess not…
“Ella, call your father and tell him the dinner is ready!”, she said in peremptory fashion, just like how Ella’s mother in her stories would do. I just sighed in utter frustration. Subsequently, she kept on coughing non-stop, I quickly prepared a glass of water and searched for her meds—there I saw a bunch of them scattered in her drawers. My mother has been cheating, she hasn’t been taking her meds all this time. Guess she really wants to leave, to leave me, and she left me with such words that used to be blurry.
That same night, she closed her eyes, so peacefully I could almost see an angel giving her wings so she could fly.
And now that I’m alone, I get it. To have courage and to be kind would probably be the only thing I could instil in me, and this time, I won’t disappoint her.
I promise, Momma, I will have courage and be kind. Always.
(This story was inspired by the Cinderella movie I just watched an hour ago through Fox Movies Channel. The title was mentioned several times it got stuck in my head I had to write it down this way. Thanks for reading!)
Image source: Pinterest