my quest to empty a vessel and make the most noise

6 october 2008


(dakak, zamboanga del norte)

the hardest thing i have to learn in this life is to remain open to whatever this life brings.

i am stuffed to the brim - full of wants (actually overflowing!): what i want, what i should want, what i need to want, what my community wants, what i want out of everyone else, what i want from it all and where all these wants will lead, build on, grow.

carrying so much weight of shoulds and needs and wants and musts keeps me moored in the shallows. a leaden anchor grips me by my ankle and prevents me from taking a step. further? farther? either. neither.

i am trying to empty myself out. to allow myself to remain unburdened with ballast. to enjoy the sensation of drifting with the tides and trusting enough to not be frightened by the waves, and instead welcome the buoyancy my weight will allow me. (the waves have always been a source of fear and marvel for me. i guess all my life till now, the fears were more influential than the marvel.)

of not grabbing for the paddle, running berserk of aimless and spatterful of meaningless sculling, or heading straight for my pre-conceived destination(?). shores or otherwise.

it involves re-learning to float, remembering the sensation of being held over dark, cold water, trying to summon the courage to relax my neck and put my head back and trust my “swimming instructor” to let me go and know that i will not sink. to overcome the urge to grab him tightly around the neck and not let go, to splash, and gasp, and choke on the water filling my lungs. (hah! how did i ever get to learn to swim? or do i really swim?)

supreme trust.

this week, i am working on emptying out and re-learning the joys of submerging myself in the world, ears muffled by the weight of water, keeping off any sound, nose pointing at the sky, vision straight ahead, the sky a bowl of blue where birds fly by and dip down to drink on the fly and have a peck on some carcass beside me.

do i have the trust to float?