Magic Carpet Stories

I miss being in college.

For some reason it was easier to let my thoughts flow freely back then. It was much easier to pluck myself out from everyday flurry and transform it into something sublime. I was only too happy to throw myself back into the chaos just so I could take myself out of it again and again. It sounds exhausting, yes, but it was the fulfilling kind fueled by certainty that something beautiful would always result from all the madness.

On hindsight, I probably felt invincible in college because I moved along with others who were more or less headed the same direction. We were all bound together by the same profound sense of purpose – power in numbers to put it in simple terms. I had plenty of backup drivers who'd take over the wheel while I nod off on the passenger's seat and vice versa.

Then we were inevitably scattered into the so-called real world. We felt lost at first, we all did, but it supposedly takes just a tad bit of patience until we find ourselves another round of backup drivers. Patience. There goes that word.

Those who don't know me have criticized patience to be one of my weakest virtues. Those who know me well would say I have an innate desire to move. At the end of the day maybe it's one and the same. Those who don't have the ability to endure waiting seldom get the best of both worlds. So because of my restlessness I find myself facing storms alone and succumbing to waves of homesickness. Nevertheless I also find the strength to defy gravity and rise above my own limits.

But beneath all this, I still miss the people I love.

There's no denying that it's the toughest hurdle on this whole ordeal. I know that until it's time to come home, there will always be days when the only thing that could pacify me would be a return ticket to Manila. I am, after all, what's called "human" with my frailties, my moments of indecision, my desire to simply live for now, to be a slave of my feelings.

When I got here I had no idea what to expect, what lay ahead, or what my life would be like. Armed with knowing that I could always turn back (which I consider a blessing), I set off to fulfill those dreams that often come up in the coffee conversations we have with our dearest friends. Of course I was never sure whether or not the most difficult path would lead me to realize those dreams. Quite frankly up to now I still don't. But coming across that one year mark has made me realize how far I've come and if I turn back now, I'd never have the chance to know. So I continue walking blindly, I continue letting myself stumble all over my own two feet.

My measure of success?
I'm still walking, I still have two feet and everyday I thank God for that.

With each step forward, I slowly gain the courage it takes to be true to myself, to my dreams, above all to the people I love. Most of us go through life unsure of who we are. I guess that's why I insisted on the hard road even if I don't know whether it will get me to where I want to be. Along with the solitude that it compels is a certain kind of boldness we all need to ultimately surrender ourselves to those whose paths are entwined with ours, without asking any questions. That, in my opinion, is what living life to the fullest is all about.


"Solitude is a kind of freedom."
(Umberto Eco)