Little Girl Me - September 28, 2009 Journal Entry

“It is only with the heart that one sees rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.” - from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery


I have just recently resigned from a job I really loved. Though it was such a pain to leave, circumstances forced me to get out before I lose the last vestiges of my sanity. When people were asking me why I resigned, I jokingly told them, it was for health reasons and to their questioning look, I was quick to retort...”mental health!”

Sleep back when I had a job was so precious that the day after I left that damn office, the bed became my friend and solace. But now that it has been 2 weeks of catching up on my much needed zzzzzzzs, I can feel boredom slowly creeping in. To say my mood is foul is an understatement; I am feeling sad, bored, angry, depressed, and useless. Pretty soon too much crying is getting to be a bore too. Oh crap! Literally, this is what bored to tears is. It felt like the two and a half years on that job sapped all the physical energy in me. I feel I was used, abused, bullied, maligned, discarded like trash and it deeply hurts. This must be how withdrawal feels – left with nothing to do after a long time of back-breaking need to keep up with work. Not that there is a lack of something to do. There are chores that needed to be done but just thinking about chores makes me want to go back to sleep again. I needed to do something that will stimulate my sleepy brain neurons! That was one of the perks and the best thing I liked about my previous job, it was intellectually stimulating.

The box containing my personal things from the office has been sitting around untouched for weeks and gathering dust. I reluctantly pushed myself out of the bed and headed for the box. Most of it was my books, so I decided to sort and fix them along with the pile of my personal collection of books in my bookcase. But as I attempted to do this, I got sidetracked by something I have always loved to do, READING. Amusingly, I thought this was the perfect time. I have loads of unread books (those I bought and borrowed but was too busy to read) and lots of spare time on my hands. I congratulated myself because I got to finish 2 books I have started way back, reread one but ended up with still a whole pile of books and things that still needed to be sorted out and arranged.

I wonder if most people are like me, I have this habit of reading books which I have already read. I do not know why but I enjoy this exercise. I am amazed how at different times of my life my perception of the same book changes. Amidst the mental turmoil and my mood swings nowadays, the book Little Prince caught my interest and leads me to introspection. I thought this was better than crying and sleeping my way through depression.

The first time I read the book was when I was in my teens. I had to read it because it was part of my English reading list. I had to write a couple of smart sentences on what I thought about it, and mainly to impress my English teacher enough to give me a good grade. I wonder what I thought about it then or did I succeed to impress my teacher. Maybe then I thought it was just another story. The book is about the crossing of the lives of a little child and a pilot both lost in the desert and how their friendship grew. The storyline is simple but it I thought it spoke of many of life’s great truths. Today as I reread it, I am totally awed how it touched me and how I came to realize the reason why there is burning need to keep some part of me remain like a child. Not a few people have told me that there are times that it felt like talking to a 5-year-old when they converse with me and no wonder why I find repartees with my young nephews and nieces more interesting and stimulating than conversations with some adults.

Like a child, I want to love and be loved back, loving fiercely and fearless of rejection. I may be an adult but I still yearn to be taken cared of and pampered with attention like a child. It is interesting to note how distinct we all remember the first time we fell in love when we were mere children. We remember every little detail, how it felt, the vibrant colors, sounds and scents that went with it and how everything seems to be pulsating and alive at that time. It felt like the world revolved around the object of our affection and that intense focus felt like every breath depended on that person that we almost want to hold time in our hands and make it stop to make the feeling last forever. We close our eyes and go back to that heady feeling like it was just yesterday. That is how juvenile love feels because it is pure and untainted. A child’s heart is always welcoming without prejudices and fear. It does not think, it just feels. It is unadulterated, a very apt word I may say.

Like a child, I still easily get hurt and yearn for somebody to soothe my broken heart and allay my fears. I cry a bucket when I am deeply touched or deeply hurt. It still amazes me how children cry at a drop of a hat and how they instantly stop when given a chocolate bar or candy or when they are embraced or kissed by loved one. In the adult world, I guess crying is perceived as a weakness. I cannot help it but crying is somewhat therapeutic for me. The free flowing of tears somehow washes my pain and frustrations away. Tears come almost instantly when I feel I am one with my God or when life’s great truths stare right at me. I instantly know when somebody or an incident touches the depths of my soul – tears come uncontrollably without any warning. Crying cleanses my soul. It is like a much needed rain that cleanses the parched earth and turns everything alive again. I must admit though that too much crying can be tiring at times.

Like a child, I like to keep my sense of wonderment and embrace new things and ideas bravely. It is with this attitude that opens my mind to a capacity unimagined. It is with childlike gusto that I learn new things and not be afraid of making mistakes. I am very inquisitive and I am not ashamed of asking questions, that sometimes I feel I sound stupid already to the poor guy I am pestering with a thousand and one queries. Hey I am just honest enough that I do not know a lot of things but I am willing to learn. It is amazing how our minds can learn anything at any age. It is the act of sharing and teaching of what we have learned that matters. Life is an endless journey of learning from each other. I still keep a dream in my heart that someday I will see places and people I only read and heard about. There is this burning desire for me to travel and see what is beyond this realm around me. I have this need and I know I must make it happen. I have read this beautiful truth somewhere, learning stops when we stop believing.

Like a child, I like to be playful with life and not be too serious about it. This one is pretty hard to do after all that life has dished out to me. Who says that life is easy or fair? It can be miserable at times but with all the strength that I got, I try to make it into a happy little world. I admit it is a struggle and it takes a lot of conscious effort. I enjoy a good laugh and conversations with people who matter most to me. I laugh at the mundane things. I try to smile even when there is nothing to smile about. I relive and rehash happy moments in times of despair. When somebody close to my heart hurts me and makes me cry, I go back to the times he made me laugh silly. The ones I truly treasure in my life are those who make this crazy life like a big playground. The one who pushes my swing to heights I thought I cannot reach, the one on the other end of the seesaw who keeps me balanced, the one who runs and play with me in total abandon, and best of all is the one who holds my hand when I am afraid and helps me get up when I fall down and hurt myself.

My dour mood may have affected my perception of the book today. Maybe I just wanted to curl up in a fetal position like a child, cry my heart out and tell the world that I am in serious need of someone to soothe my frustrations away until I have the strength to stand up again.

There is a universal quest for the elusive fountain of youth and be like Peter Pan who refuses to grow up. For some, it is physical – ageless beauty in a bottled cream or relentless dyeing of hair to hide the greying strands. But for others it is going back to the innocence of childhood when everything was uncomplicated, uncluttered, and where love abounds.

Two Uh Oh Nine

The year 2009 has been kind of a tumultuous one for me. I experienced the highest highs but also have been thrown some hard punches that knocked me out to the lowest lows. The first part of the year started not so brightly when I had to endure a 3-day forced leave for some unfortunate incident which happened in the office while I was on my one-day leave for a cousin's wedding last November of 2008 (my first and only vacation leave that I filed after a year of work). But given the breadth of my responsibility, I had to take the brunt for the unfortunate incident despite the fact that I was not physically in the office and someone else was supposed to be in charge. Maybe it was a foreboding of the events that were to unfold towards the last quarter of the year. I took that incident all in stride and was confident that I had support from where I needed it most and completely forgot about it and focused on better and brighter things ahead.

Things indeed became bright, targets and goals were achieved, and new milestones reached. Alongside these, friendships flourished and strong bonds were formed. I have met the best people who have influenced me a great deal but I also met the fiercest detractors and the worst people I have known in my entire life. But I guess that is jumping the gun.

I did not have any posts last year but I have written quite a number the last 3 months of 2009 that I have yet to publish. They are all nicely hidden in my journal and I am still contemplating on what and when will they finally get published. My hesitation stems from the fact that they were written when I was not at my best and usual self. I fear that some people may perceive them as ranting and whining but I guess that is what they really are. But really, who cares what other people will think. They are my feelings, my rants, and my thoughts. Julie Powell in her Julia/Julie book was perfectly right when she wrote "one thing about blogging is that it gives you a blank check for whining."

I am no expert in writing and do not possess the flair or style of experienced bloggers. I cannot pen poems or interesting short stories. I never entertained thoughts of writing or winning a Nobel Prize for writing either. But ever since I was a kid I have always had what I would call a love affair with words. The power of words and beautiful language has always and still fascinates me. I devoured any reading material that caught my fancy. I would have read a lot more if the prices of books were affordable, and it is sad that I live nowhere near a library. I can stay in a bookstore for hours in a window-reading spree. Reading in a quiet comfort of a couch on a rainy night is a bliss for me. I guess the romance of the written language stirs me and I longingly admire those gifted people who can string up words into lovely sentences and intricately weave them into a story. The closest I got to writing was chronicling my life in those silly diaries when I was a teen, of which I lost interest in since there were no earth-shattering events happening to me then that was worth writing about. Nowadays, I just write about what I feel, and how I feel at the moment. My mind is in overdrive - interesting thoughts and feelings keep popping and I needed to write them down and sort them out. When a good friend was asking me what I was busy with these days, I replied, "writing about nonsensical things that make sense to me." Somehow writing has become a release, some kind of ritual to exorcise my demons. And I am hoping someday, somehow the ranting and whining will metamorphose into something I can be proud of. But for now let me rant away as I publish my first post for 2010.