A desired stillness
(First of a series. Read the second part here.)
It is easy to get caught in the daily rush of things: there are bills to pay, deadlines to meet, project goals to achieve, and bosses (and, perhaps, the social media public?) to impress. We find comfort in fleeting accomplishments and social activities, yet there would remain a void, an empty space, in our hearts that waits to be satisfied.
We look for answers outside — scouring the internet for advice on how to be truly happy, keeping in close company good friends and movies, or growing our to-do lists to relieve ourselves of the boredom and to enliven our spirits from a seemingly perennial ennui — as if ephemeral and worldly pleasures could cover up an immense yearning within.
But the solution always lies where the problem is rooted: We look for answers outside, when all we have to do is search within.
Thus began my reflection, written on paper, as my Lenten recollection was nearing its end.
Introspection is a grace too many among us squander because of the overwhelming fear of ourselves. We are afraid to see our own face for it may not reflect what we think it ought to be.
^ The magnificence of Taal Lake — and a peep at Taal Volcano — as seen from the Mary Ridge Retreat House in Tagaytay City
(Click to view larger image.)
‘Do not be afraid’
I was afraid the two-day recollection would end without having immersed myself in the loving presence of the Lord. Both Father Mike and I harbored the apprehension that the spiritual journey would focus solely on the well-being of my friend Zandra, whom we both deeply cared for and eagerly wanted to help, as she was going through some emotional moments in the past months.
Three hours before we had to leave the retreat house, I took time off to be alone with my thoughts, journal on one hand and a pen on another, pressed by time to reflect and be able to deliver an insightful experience for that afternoon’s sharing.
I sought for a quiet place where I could be free to introspect, but there was none available at that moment. I was forcing myself until a faint voice told me, “Cherry, you don’t need a quiet place in order to be still.”
That was right, I thought. We always try to escape our everyday cycle of doing, moving, and going — in the company of endless tasks and priorities — as if we are trapped in and have no control over our circumstances.
Truth is, we are responsible for how we think and feel. We do not need holidays or isolation to be one with ourselves, or to be still, because quietude and solitude were never requirements of inner peace.
There could be noise outside, but a heart that is in peace would never falter to turmoil. In my mind, I had started singing: “Do not be afraid, I am with you.”
I put down my materials and embraced my environs. So what if the dogs kept barking or the bees kept buzzing? I am with God, always. His presence does not depend on specific circumstances or a particular time and place. I am with God.
I opened my eyes, felt light, and saw a yellow and black mariposa flying near me. It was God making Himself present to me, I thought, just as what He did to Kai when she had her retreat in 2013. (A butterfly landed on her hand and stayed there for a while, allowing Kai to “pet” it, which was far from the natural behavior of butterflies.) Butterflies, anyway, are believed to be spiritual messengers.
The butterfly flew around the hut where I stayed. Pa-cute. But I thought it was most likely the same kind that Kai saw. Somehow, I wished there was a more personal and peculiar approach, if it was indeed God trying to be pa-cute with me.
A little while later, another butterfly came near me and flew around the area where I stayed. It was the first time in my life that I had seen such kind — I even wondered if it was a butterfly or a dragonfly, although I figured that the latter would have been unlikely. Its wings were black and its body was red — my favorite color.
^ It looked something like this,
although I could not be perfectly sure since I never got this close.
(Photo from DeviantArt)
^ This was my best shot.
My request for a more Cherry-ish encounter was granted. And as I was showing this photo to Father Mike and Zandra over lunch, I noticed a curious detail, which I did not see earlier.
There appears to be a G-clef on the leaf at the left side of the photo. And we know that the G-clef is among the most recognized musical symbols.
This little detail, which could simply be dismissed as an incidental shadow of some tendril — but, seriously, what are the odds these thread-like stems would curve into a treble clef? — I consider as proof that God was speaking to me right there and then... for He knew my primary form of worship is through songs.
I am grateful I took the photo. •
It is easy to get caught in the daily rush of things: there are bills to pay, deadlines to meet, project goals to achieve, and bosses (and, perhaps, the social media public?) to impress. We find comfort in fleeting accomplishments and social activities, yet there would remain a void, an empty space, in our hearts that waits to be satisfied.
We look for answers outside — scouring the internet for advice on how to be truly happy, keeping in close company good friends and movies, or growing our to-do lists to relieve ourselves of the boredom and to enliven our spirits from a seemingly perennial ennui — as if ephemeral and worldly pleasures could cover up an immense yearning within.
But the solution always lies where the problem is rooted: We look for answers outside, when all we have to do is search within.
4 April 2015; 7:52 a.m.
TAGAYTAY CITY — As I write in this journal, I am marveling at the sight of Taal Lake, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze of the morning, and appreciating the melody of the birds — and, not so far away, the cackling of a rooster.
But the setting, though calming and far from the hustle of Manila, is not totally free from distractions. Just earlier, as I was exploring the place, the song OMG (the religious version?) could be heard from somewhere. On the other side from where I stood, heard were murmurs from fellow guests and the chanting of nuns. Guard dogs occasionally bark; a man would sweep leaves. All these — and more — just now, a plane flew above me — are disrupting the desired stillness in my life.
People would go on retreats, just as the meaning of the word implies, to “fall back” or “withdraw” from a routine-led lifestyle, to “surrender” to the Mighty One.
Thus began my reflection, written on paper, as my Lenten recollection was nearing its end.
Introspection is a grace too many among us squander because of the overwhelming fear of ourselves. We are afraid to see our own face for it may not reflect what we think it ought to be.
^ The magnificence of Taal Lake — and a peep at Taal Volcano — as seen from the Mary Ridge Retreat House in Tagaytay City
(Click to view larger image.)
‘Do not be afraid’
I was afraid the two-day recollection would end without having immersed myself in the loving presence of the Lord. Both Father Mike and I harbored the apprehension that the spiritual journey would focus solely on the well-being of my friend Zandra, whom we both deeply cared for and eagerly wanted to help, as she was going through some emotional moments in the past months.
Three hours before we had to leave the retreat house, I took time off to be alone with my thoughts, journal on one hand and a pen on another, pressed by time to reflect and be able to deliver an insightful experience for that afternoon’s sharing.
I sought for a quiet place where I could be free to introspect, but there was none available at that moment. I was forcing myself until a faint voice told me, “Cherry, you don’t need a quiet place in order to be still.”
That was right, I thought. We always try to escape our everyday cycle of doing, moving, and going — in the company of endless tasks and priorities — as if we are trapped in and have no control over our circumstances.
Truth is, we are responsible for how we think and feel. We do not need holidays or isolation to be one with ourselves, or to be still, because quietude and solitude were never requirements of inner peace.
There could be noise outside, but a heart that is in peace would never falter to turmoil. In my mind, I had started singing: “Do not be afraid, I am with you.”
I put down my materials and embraced my environs. So what if the dogs kept barking or the bees kept buzzing? I am with God, always. His presence does not depend on specific circumstances or a particular time and place. I am with God.
I opened my eyes, felt light, and saw a yellow and black mariposa flying near me. It was God making Himself present to me, I thought, just as what He did to Kai when she had her retreat in 2013. (A butterfly landed on her hand and stayed there for a while, allowing Kai to “pet” it, which was far from the natural behavior of butterflies.) Butterflies, anyway, are believed to be spiritual messengers.
The butterfly flew around the hut where I stayed. Pa-cute. But I thought it was most likely the same kind that Kai saw. Somehow, I wished there was a more personal and peculiar approach, if it was indeed God trying to be pa-cute with me.
A little while later, another butterfly came near me and flew around the area where I stayed. It was the first time in my life that I had seen such kind — I even wondered if it was a butterfly or a dragonfly, although I figured that the latter would have been unlikely. Its wings were black and its body was red — my favorite color.
^ It looked something like this,
although I could not be perfectly sure since I never got this close.
(Photo from DeviantArt)
^ This was my best shot.
My request for a more Cherry-ish encounter was granted. And as I was showing this photo to Father Mike and Zandra over lunch, I noticed a curious detail, which I did not see earlier.
There appears to be a G-clef on the leaf at the left side of the photo. And we know that the G-clef is among the most recognized musical symbols.
This little detail, which could simply be dismissed as an incidental shadow of some tendril — but, seriously, what are the odds these thread-like stems would curve into a treble clef? — I consider as proof that God was speaking to me right there and then... for He knew my primary form of worship is through songs.
I am grateful I took the photo. •