Fourteen Days

I left Manila for BC on March 2, and returned to Manila - supposedly for a "brief" period for my brother's and best friend's birthday - exactly two weeks later, on March 16. Those two weeks up there felt like two months of restoration, relaxation, and rejuvenation...I had many, many hours of quiet to myself, to think, to write, to create, to begin my art again, to reconnect. Some friends came to visit me, and I reveled in their company, for the hours together seemed to go by in peaceful slow-motion. And I made some friends up there as well, spending equally fruitful hours with them, getting to know what kind of person thrives in the mountains I love.

I return to BC, God-willing, on March 30. Exactly two weeks, or 14 days, after I'd first come down. I was held back by family and foundational concerns and the lethargic heat of this city that tends to lull you into some kind of stupor...but at the same time those days sped by so very quickly that I don't really know what I wasted my hours on. But I am grateful that while I was down here I managed to work on my relationships - really unintentional, but all turned out well - and spend time with many people I really care about, and needed to reconnect with. At the same time, God has given me new relationships that I consider to be blessings, especially at this time when He has made me realize the value of the people He has sent into my life. I think BC does that - it makes us realize what things and people we truly consider important in our lives, to appreciate and value them, and nurture them, even more. And I do.

See you in less than 14 days. :-)

Rise Up and Soar!

Amats and Day know about this first part...and a few other people know about the discernment process I've been undergoing the last few weeks in the mountains, which has continued back here in the lowlands. I came back down to Manila exactly two weeks to the day I went up "to the hills," knowing fully well that this trip to re-encounter all things familiar would weigh into the decision I will have to make. I was slightly surprised that, the very next day I was back, God's message was "Stay there until I tell you." (Matthew 2:13). Eek. I'd been drawing up blue-prints and making plans (always submitting them to Him for consideration, of course), and He said "Stay there until I tell you." My Heavenly Father talaga and His sense of humor (not to mention timing).

But now I understand why I had to "stay" until He told me otherwise; He opened me up to so much, to so many opportunities and relationships and possibilities and realizations which I wouldn't otherwise have had if I went "back up" as scheduled. I'm more sure now, about many matters; most of all, I'm more sure of my commitment to love and serve Him and to love and serve those whom He loves, even as I pursue His other dreams for me that may not appear to be as selfless. Today, He reminded me that despite His other aspirations for my life, I should never forget my Jerusalem, my joy of joys - let my right hand wither, let my tongue cleave to my mouth if I do (Psalm 137). As if to hammer that point in, after Mass in UP tonight, He even showed Himself to me...through an unintelligibly chattering, mentally challenged little mendicant who lovingly touched my face and told my heart to continue looking for - and finding - my God, my Savior, and my King in the very least of my brethren.

And, having said that, He gave me my cue: "Lift your eyes from where you are and look north and south, east and west. All the land that you see I will give to you." (Genesis 13:14-15). "No desire will ever be placed in you by the Holy Spirit unless He intends to fulfill it. So let your faith rise up and soar away to claim all the land you can discover." (S.A. Keen, quoted in the 26 March entry of Streams in the Desert)

Amen, amen, and amen! May I soar in His direction, with His wind beneath my wings. :-)

Silence, My Friend

Noise. It fills our ears, invades our brains, distracts our focus, blocks off all conduits to our interior selves. I recently met someone who was so addicted to noise that he filled all possible moments of quiet with incessant (and very loud) commentaries-pretending-to-be-conversations, and, when his audience grew weary of listening, stuck earphones into his skull and proceeded to blare music from a portable player. It seemed as if he was terrified of even a few seconds of silence. Another person I know – although he will probably never admit it – is constantly ensnared by the powerful, distractive force of television. He will miss appointments, be late for meetings, or even forsake commitments because he happens to be caught up with the goings-on on the small screen. He's scared of the quiet too.

Over the years, silence has become one of my most comforting friends. I didn’t always feel this way: I recall one particularly stressful time in my youth, when I abruptly turned in my resignation at an advertising firm I was employed at, and needed to explain my sudden decision to the president. While waiting for the appointed time to meet him, I found that I could drown my anxiety by listening to loud music on my Walkman (goes to show how long ago this was). I suppose that’s how noise works, for some people – it calls away attention, it helps one escape, it numbs and deadens pain that may be either present or potential. I admit that, until a few weeks ago, I used to fall asleep to the noise of the TV, and to wake up in the morning to it. I used to write my articles, and even study in front of the TV or with the radio on – during the Bar review, especially during the late night/early morning hours, I always had the radio on as company. Apparently many of us cannot live without some amount of noise in the background; most of us find it comforting. Which is not surprising.

For, in silence, we can listen to and get acquainted with our real selves; more importantly, we open ourselves to the possibility of hearing the One who tirelessly keeps speaking to us, every minute, every second. And many of the things that need to be heard are disturbing indeed.

In these recent years, I have learned to befriend silence, and, as I’ve said, have found it to be a true and intimate ally. Noise will only temporarily ease whatever difficulty needs to be faced; silence, like a loyal friend, will not help you run away but instead make you stand up to what should be confronted, and enable you to deal with it head-on. And smile as you emerge from it a better person.

For the most part, my last two weeks in BC were wrought with silence – or at least, the opportunity to be selective with my “noise.” I am slightly pleased that my “noisy” moments were few and far between, and that I had preferred to “listen” through the silence instead, but this retreat was intended to be a listening exercise after all. The house and the neighborhood were ideal for quiet; and, most of the time, I was loath to disturb the stillness by turning on the CD player or putting on a DVD.

But back here in the other BC I’ve known almost all my life – Barangay Culiat – cable TV and radio are ubiquitous diversions, and I’ve found myself very quickly slipping back into the surroundings of noise. The ability to withdraw into the “inner island,” even in the midst of the metropolitan pandemonium, can only be considered an extarordinary grace…I find myself preferring the natural serenity of the mountains. Perhaps I am really meant to be in BC – Baguio City, and, according to a desire that’s been gently growing in my heart – Back to the Cordilleras, from where my ancestors hail, and that I need to live, and listen in, the silence of it all.

Serendipity

The American Heritage Dictionary on my computer defines serendipity as the “faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.” Serendipity is also the title of a movie starring John Cusack, and the name of the Manhattan café made famous by the film (which Larry and I once tried to get a table at, without success). And serendipity is what happens when you wander into a nondescript little bookstore on Session Road and find a book that is exactly what you need to read at this particular point in your life. On SALE. How’s that for God’s version of an “accident”?

I’m excited to share this book with people who I know are in more or less the same stage of “transition” as myself – I already told a friend with whom I’ve had lengthy, agonizing discussions on purposeful living and can’t wait to get him his copy. While I am usually a little wary of “directional” books written by psychotherapists – this seemed less of the DIY kind, so I made the hundred peso (!!) investment. And I’m sure glad I did.

I spent the whole morning today engrossed in Called By Name (Discovering Your Unique Purpose In Life) by Robert J. Furey. The blurb reassured me that it wasn’t entirely one of those secular self-help manuals: “There is a divine plan for each life, and a sacred trust that the call will be answered.” The first few pages caught my attention and ensnared my entire morning and part of my afternoon – and pretty soon the book was well-underscored and highlighted. The first “lightbulb” moment that made me sit up and really get into my reading was a quote by Andre Gide: “One does not discover new lands without consenting to losing sight of the shore for a very long time.” Reading this in a “new land” made me go “hmmm…”

Furey goes on to say that, in choosing which mountains (hmmm!) to move, we usually have a “difficult time distinguishing between an impulse and a revelation. They can seem so similar, yet they are very different. No one should commit to an impulse. An impulse is a distraction rather than a destiny. It lures one away from a real calling.” A very similar message to what Henri Nouwen “told” me earlier this week: “It is not easy to distinguish between doing what we are called to do and doing what we want to do. Our many wants can easily distract us from our true action.”

It is proposed that to settle the issue of whether a calling is real or not, and unique to one’s self, there are three essential qualities: service, thought, and feelings. Callings involve service to life. Furey says that our talents are only a portion of one’s calling (therefore finding inexcusable the mistake of people getting so caught up in their creative gifts that they turn away from their calling to serve others) and that “the largest part of your vision involves how you will use these gifts. It is never enough to compose or paint or write. These skills must be used for the service of a greater good.” If there is therefore no element of service to life, then one is not being called to travel it.

The second litmus test is the examination by thought: “(a) calling requires rational thought.” Furey sagely advises that a calling is “not something that comes along and sweeps you mindlessly off your feet. You can plan, arrange, and prepare to answer it. You have to think it through. Before you commit, you must decide. Decisions need thought.” Some people out there are mentally giving me high-fives in agreement. “A real calling can withstand scrutiny. It has no cause to deceive you. No calling asks you to accept it blindly.”

Finally, feelings are the final indicator: one must have a passion for the calling. “Of the three dimensions of a calling, service and thought provide direction. Feeling provides the energy and the determination to get there. Feeling also supplies the passion to stay the proper course. It’s the fuel, the fire, the love.”

“When our desire to serve, our thought, and our feelings all come together, we find ourselves doing what’s right. You will not find yourself in your right place until you integrate those three elements.”

I know exactly how that integration feels: my service at He Cares has been characterized for the most part by the melodious orchestration of service, thought, and feelings. I can say, in all honesty, that during this time I've experienced the happiest and most purposeful moments of my life. Then again, after almost two years, and with the shifting dynamics that this kind of service has taken on, came the vital need to assess direction and commitment. I was bothered for a while on this retreat as to whether my calling has changed, or whether I’ve lost the capacity to listen for direction from the One who called, or whether my passion for it has ebbed. But Furey reassures by saying that “the mission may get lost or may change, but there is always a mission nonetheless. They see their challenge as finding and fulfilling their mission.” Charles Garfield posits that “gifted workers” (which I do not claim to be, but only aspire towards becoming) sometimes lose direction and do not always have a mission, “(b)ut when they don’t, they make finding a mission their mission.” So even transition periods of discovery and exploration are, thankfully, in fact productive periods.

To help determine one’s mission or renew one’s vision, Furey tells us that nature and solitude are powerful elements conducive to enlightenment on one’s direction. Those two elements I have much of at the moment, and I appreciate how they’ve served to cast light in the past, so I think I’m in a good place.

Another fascinating proposition that Furey makes is that we receive two different callings: the universal, and the individual. “The universal calling involves contributing to life. We are all called to this…(it) asks us to give things away – our money, our time, our energy…to contribute to the welfare of human beings, animals, and the environment…” But the individual calling “can pose a real challenge,” because “it asks us to make specific choices, choosing one path over another. (It) will not be satisfied through donations to the poor or volunteer work with the needy. Your individual calling asks that you emerge and become your own person. While the universal calling asks for compassion, the individual calling asks for courage.” Aha. Now I think (hmm, I recently had a revealing discussion with Lex about how I say “I think” rather than “I feel”) I’ve arrived at the crux of the matter: while I have heard and responded to my universal calling, my individual calling still requires facing up to. Which is probably why I’m on this “listening retreat.” Hmmmm.

To be continued.

The Only Man God Called “Father”

Yesterday morning when I woke up I begged my instincts to reconsider an early start, and was granted an extension until a little past 9 a.m. to process a very strange dream about two men from polar opposites. Because of the regular morning power outage here in the mountains, I spent a quiet morning in prayerful reflection and meditation, and picked up for the first time a book I’d brought about an extraordinary man: Saint Joseph, “The Only Man God Called ‘Father.’” St. Joseph has always been one of my favorite patron saints, but I realized this morning how much I’d recently neglected to seek his intercession, especially regarding the man I will share the rest of my life with (whose identity remains yet to be determined at this point! Excitedly to be determined, I should add).

I was struck profoundly, even moved to tears, from the very beginning of this book written by the Rev. Fr. Jose Dimaculangan, who notes that the Patron of the Universal Church “nurtures the core of authentic development namely, healthy marriage and family life, clear sense of mission in life, dynamic work ethic and responsible stewardship.” All of a sudden I was convicted by a realization that these four factors are THE real essentials in determining God’s best, far more important than less consequential attributes such as a sharp intellect, mathematical skills, and a good sense of humor, that are worth holding out for. After all, to the man who possessed these primary values did God entrust “His two greatest treasures, Jesus and the Blessed Virgin Mary.” So I ask God to likewise entrust me – His beloved daughter! - to someone who approximates the man commended with the protection, well-being, and upbringing of the Messiah. Too much to ask? Well, I’m of the opinion that if I’m going to ask anyway, might as well ask for the best He’s got to give…and somehow I know that He wouldn’t have me settle for anything, or anyone less.

Providentially, after I'd written the reflection above, I opened today's Gospel to find it to be on asking from the Father: "Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For every one who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. Or what man of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" (Matthew 7:7-11)

A God-fearing, God-loving someone who is 1. capable of promoting a healthy marriage and family life, 2. with a clear sense of mission in life, 3. imbued with a dynamic work ethic, and 4. a responsible steward of all things entrusted to him, including his time, talents, and relationships. Those things are now at the top of my new checklist…and then some. :-)

True Action

It is quiet up here in the mountains, amazingly so considering that I live within the city limits. But I’m blessed to be far enough from the busyness nearer the center of the city to enjoy the stillness of my surroundings. It’s a time of listening and solitude, of reassesment and rediscovery, of rest and restoration. The Bible tells us that Jesus loved the mountains too, for there He met with His Father, spending many solitary hours in communion and conversation with Him. I am here to do the same, as I wait for Him to reveal what new things and directions He has in store for me.

This morning (7 March 2006) He spoke through the words of Henri Nouwen, who reflects on listening for, and pursuing, our true calling:

Action…can help us to claim and celebrate our true self. But here again we need discipline, because the world in which we live says: “Do this, do that, go here, go there, meet him, meet her.” Busyness has become a sign of importance. Having much to do, many places to go, and countless people to meet gives us status and even fame. However, being busy can lead us away from our true vocation and prevent us from drinking our cup.

It is not easy to distinguish between doing what we are called to do and doing what we want to do. Our many wants can easily distract us from our true action. True action leads us to the fulfillment of our vocation…The most prestigious position in society can be an expression of obedience to our call as well as a sign of our refusal to hear that call, and the least prestigious position, too, can be a response to our vocation as well as a way to avoid it.

Drinking our cup involves carefully choosing those actions which lead us closer to complete emptying of it, so that at the end of our lives we can say with Jesus, “It is fulfilled” (John 19:30). That indeed, is the paradox: we fulfill life by emptying it. In Jesus’ own words: “Anyone who loses his life for my sake wull find it” (Matt. 10:39)

When we are committed to do God’s will and not our own we soon discover that much of what we do doesn’t need to be done by us. What we are called to do are actions that bring us true joy and peace. Just as leaving friends for the sake of the Gospel will bring us friends, so too will letting go of actions not in accord with our call.

Actions that lead to overwork, exhaustion, and burnout can’t praise and glorify God. What God calls us to do we CAN do and do WELL. When we listen in silence to God’s voice and speak with our friends in trust we will know what we are called to do, and we will do it with a grateful heart. (Can You Drink The Cup?)

Oops

Feel a little silly...several pages worth of BC journal entries and I forgot the CD-RW at home. Probably should consider getting wi-fi at the Phad, but then again that would be yet another excuse not to get out of the house! Till tomorrow, then.

A Bientot!

"Don't dream about what you want to do, stay awake and do it." - Marvin Yagoda

"Dream it. Plan it. Do it." - National Geographic Adventure

I always have, and, once again, by God's grace, I will. My "adventure" starts tomorrow. See you on the flipside. :-)