In the Dead of the Night

It's 3.50 AM. So why am I awake again at this time of the night/morning? Interesting question. I just came from a three-day silent retreat and yes you may be thinking what in the world does a retreat have anything to do with not being able to sleep? I don't know either but since I don't have anything to do, the retreat went a little like this. Call time was 1230pm in Xavier Hall and we left Manila around 1pm. It took roughly two hours for us to get to the Holy Spirit Mission Service Center Spiritual Formation Center (yeah I think that's about right). Starting Friday around 8pm, there was no internet access, no cellular phones, no readings, nothing. It's just going to be you, your Bible, silence, and prayer.

I must admit, I was daunted by the idea at first; for those who know me, I can get quite a bit talkative and after hell week, the concept of having nothing to do except pray, contemplate, and stay silent was quite foreign. Furthermore, I though that in silence, my own personal demons would come out and devour me. But nothing of the sort happened. Silence came to me relatively easy; it's quite ironic that now, it is with noise I am uncomfortable with. In those three days or so of silence, realizations and profound moments with God and my faith didn't come one after another.

Most of the time it was just the deafening silence. I guess I was too impatient and that I was talking too much. But  the wonderful thing about silence is that aside from its inherent beauty, you begin to notice things that you would otherwise not have noticed. Knowing when to stop and when to rest is a grace. Contemplation is a gift from Him.

Learning to see Him in my life has been a difficult thing for me primarily because I have lived a comfortable sheltered life. I am luckier than most and because I have never been shattered by difficulties, I have never come to Him as much as I mow have. I guess it is true that we notice Him only when we are troubled. It is ironic actually that the blessings that I have have placed a gap between me and Him. I guess the past few days were a troubling experience, to trouble myself that I may be shaken from my state of complacency.
Yes I was lost but in a quite different kind of way from most people.

"Lost is also a place." - Fr. Nono, S.J.

And mulling this over had a profound effect on me. Lost for me always had this sense of despair, of nothingness, and the finality that you would never find your way back because precisely you're lost. You're nowhere. But by virtue of its being a place, it doesn't seem so frightening now. Getting lost might be one of the ways you get found. If you don't lose your way, then I don't think you would know the difference.  I think I still am lost. Saying otherwise might be a bit too presumptuous.

The trip in pictures to follow. Just as soon as I figure out how to work my iPhone!

Waiting at the Lake House

After spending the better half of the day yesterday running errands, I decided to just stay in for a change. I bummed around the house and since I had nothing else better to do, I sat in front of the TV and prepared myself for a night of mindless TV. After browsing through the customary Saturday night fare on TV(i.e. nothing good on TV) I settled for the Lake House. Although the film hit the theaters a few years ago, it was my first time to watch it. Yeah I know, talk about being late. :)) 

Anyway, back to the film. Although a million whys echo inside my head especially with all the logical contradictions and impossibilities (hello philo 103), my heart tells me to see and take it for what it is. Waiting...the central theme of the movie. In a movie where misses and almost have-beens are staple and where taking matters into your own hands prove disastrous, the message couldn't have been any more clearer. Good things come to those who wait they say. But how long should you wait? What if forever passes you by without you even noticing it? Worse, what if you end up waiting for nothing at all? When is enough...well, enough? Where do you draw the line between romantic idealism and sheer stupidity?...between pragmatism and idealism? 

And it got me thinking more. Waiting. Hmm. Well I guess that waiting can be good in its own right, but how does one prevent waiting from turning into resignation? How does one prevent it from being turned into an excuse to not do anything about that certain aspect of your life that needs fixing?

That's a whole lot of questions brought about by a single movie! And even after mulling it over for quite a few hours, I'm still no close to finding the answer. And that's if there is even an answer. Maybe I will know the answers someday, maybe I won't. But for now, the search continues.