Epiphanies, Acceptance, and Liberation

June 2008

While the rest of the country was gearing up for Independence Day celebrations, I was going through an inner struggle for freedom. Part of me wanted to fulfil the self-imposed deadlines and obligations that I had set for myself (wife by 28, mother by 30, full-time activist/advocate forever); another part of me wanted to break free from these labels, knowing that our lives are what we make them to be regardless of titles and deadlines—and recognizing that my life hasn’t even been made yet. I was no longer happy. I was no longer inspired. I was no longer fulfilled. Worst of all, I looked to the future with dread. That clearly wasn’t me, and I had to find myself again. (I wanted to ask the world to stop turning and allow me to get off for a while, but it wouldn’t budge.)

The decisions had to be made one after the other—or, rather, they pretty much snowballed into each other such that I no longer remember which one came first.

One was the decision to acknowledge an encounter for what it was: bittersweet, disconcerting, but, eventually, enlightening. I realized that it wasn’t so much the actors in that encounter that matter, but the content and the context. It happened when it did and the way it did because I had to go through it. I had to learn from it. And I’m still learning from it. (The complete lesson will unfold in due time, but I have to allow the process to happen—very, very carefully.)

While that was going on, I made another crucial decision: to postpone any plans of marriage and children for at least two years to give myself (and my beloved as well) time to look deep within and experience the deep, profound joy of true self-discovery. I’m in the process of finding myself—I’m excavating key pieces of the puzzle day by day—and it would be unfair to myself if I stopped just because I had to stick to a particular wedding date. I’m not saying that marriage will stop me from finding myself (for other people, it actually works to get them there faster); but I’m saying that I’ve realized that the timing is SIMPLY NOT RIGHT. It will happen. Eventually. The way we want it—the way it’s supposed to happen. But not now. Because if I pushed it, I’d end up resenting my love, my family, and most of all, myself. And THAT I can’t bring into a marriage.

How will I know when the time is right? I’ll just know. The way I did when I decided it was time for the next decision.

I’m leaving for Australia next year, and I’ve dubbed it my Great Australian Adventure (GAA). The events leading up to that decision happened pretty fast, but they also happened in slow-motion, such that I could practically see every frame of every scene of that strip. And, if my life were a DVD, that particular chapter would have a special audio commentary because I seemed to know EXACTLY why things were happening the way they were, in real-time. It was as if a voice were guiding me through the entire process and telling the audience (myself included) what would happen next. Let’s save the juicy details for another blog entry, but to make the story short, within the span of four weeks I had: (1) made a decision to look for exposure abroad, (2) found a program that I liked and a scholarship that went with it, (3) worked on my application documents, (4) got accepted into the program, and (5) made a decision to REALLY GO FOR IT—no matter what happens next. It was a nerve-wracking month, to say the least, but it’s been the most fulfilling one so far, if only because I allowed myself to dream again. And THAT was a big part of getting myself back.

Yes, I learned to dream FOR MYSELF again. I learned to let go of the guilt associated with doing what I want (for me, not for others) and fully experienced the joy of envisioning a future I could be happy with. It is a future filled with abundance and deep contentment—a future in which I am the leading lady and not just somebody’s supporting actor. It is a future that VALIDATES and INTEGRATES everything that I’ve been doing so far, everything that I AM.

This, I realized, is what set me free: realizing that there ought to be no guilt in fully living one’s life for one’s self because living fully also means giving, sharing, helping (or at least in my context it does). I realized that if I just ALLOWED MYSELF to be, then I will become the best version of myself that I could possibly be, and that would benefit other people as well. But I shouldn’t worry about them yet; I should focus on myself first so that my cup will be filled and can later on flow out to others. I’ve put others’ dreams and goals ahead of mine for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to honor myself and my goals.

Well, this time, I’m being honoured, and I’m doing the honoring. I didn’t let anyone stop me. And it feels damn good.

I Fell Asleep Asking, I Woke Up To An Answer

Sometimes, when we ask the right questions, the answers present themselves to us in unexpected ways. When we declare our openness to the Universe, it, in turn, opens to us the many ways through which insight can be communicated.

In my case, answers usually come from TV shows that I just happen to see while channel-surfing, passages from books where I just open the page to wherever I feel like it, conversations with friends, and--of course--coincidences that occur just as I am in the process of discernment.

Last night I fell asleep with a nagging question in my head. It was something that had been bothering me for a few weeks already, and a huge part of me was feeling guilty for how I had been feeling and reacting towards it. And I'm not sure if it was related to the dreams that I had, but this morning I awoke from very violent dreams--one in which I was the one committing the violence. It was shocking, it was unnerving, but it seemed very real to me. I needed answers.

I went on a "Serendipity Surf" on the Web for clues, and I stumbled upon this passage, which I now realize answers my question and reassures me that, all things considered (even the dream that I just had), I'm not such a bad person after all:

Taken from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

On Marriage

When Almitra spoke again and said, "And what of

Marriage, master?"

And he answered saying:

"You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.

You shall be together when white wings of death scatter your days.

Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness,

And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another but make not a bond of love:

Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.

For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together, yet not too near together:

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.