Melancholic in Mindanao

At one point in his or her life, a person stops, thinks and reflects about his and her life and comes to terms with many things.

I suppose I am referring to myself. Lately, I have been questioning every little aspect of my life. From the simple existential question- “Why am I here?” to a more proactive and productive question- “What is my purpose in this world?” to finally the most overused question in the world- “What am I to do with the rest of my life?” I wonder if these questions come with the aging process, as I reluctantly turn 27 in less than two months. Truth be told, I am not quite ready to be 27 just yet. I am not ready to live up to the expectations and responsibilities that come with that age. Perhaps it is just a number, like all other numbers in our lives, but when I look at what I’ve done and accomplished in my life, I cringe at the time and opportunities that may have gone to waste. Does this negativity have something to do with how I compare myself and my accomplishments to others around me? Am I being thrown into the pressures of conformity and being pressures to join the rat race commonly known to man as “life”?

I speak from the bottom of my heart and soul. I speak without the angst of a confused teenager but with the sorrow of a woman possibly going through a quarter life crisis. I know I must come up with answers that is not as simple as having to go through therapy, where the most common question asked by most therapists again and again is the question- “So…How do you feel about that?” I have been scaring myself with nightly sob sessions with my pillow, my dog and at times, my poor boyfriend, and then waking up all sore from the lack of sleep with a dull ache in my heart and the desire to weep once more. But in the mornings, while the sun is up, I know I cannot weep, but brave yet another day which takes me closer and closer to my 27th birthday. Is this the artist in me? The drama queen in most people who was forced to do or be a lot of things that he or she did not necessarily want in the first place? I know I have no one to blame for my conformity and complacency but myself. Perhaps all these years, it was courage I lacked. Courage to listen to MY inner voice, because now that I try to listen for that voice, all I get is the cold sound of silence. My inner voice has escaped me, and I’ve missed it so much.

So I decided to take the easy way out and flee. Not too far away, but far enough not to have to see the people I see and speak to everyday. Is temporary distance the solution and answer to my issues? I have yet to find out. Tomorrow I may head out into a place where I can think. Where nature is at its full glory. Where the grass meets the sky and where spirituality is at its rawest state. I am in dire search of answers, and maybe I will find them when I search for God in Bukidnon.