By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo

 

SUDDENLY, I did not want to do anything. I just wanted to go to Baguio City among the pine trees, or on a pristine coast along Lingayen Gulf. Call it burnout. Call it anything. By body is protesting the daily routine, I could feel it wanting to just lie down, stretch like a cat, or lie flat on my back like a dog and stretch my limbs to someone I trust, who will not judge, who will not tell me to get up, to just let me be.

I had similar challenges before, but it inspired, unlike now, where toxicity seem to permeate my bones. My bones are talking like tired overseas domestic helpers assisting a royal, who by tradition, should not even lift his own fork.

Something is wrong, my muscles had suddenly felt like marshmallows. My left eye turned red without me touching it. By instinct, I pressed twenty pieces of kalamansi and downed it on my esophagus in its pure form. Then I took Lagundi syrup. Since I am not sure what hit me, I also inhaled the steam of hot water with salt. I felt better but not in top form.

On occasions such as this, I think of my own mortality, and how short life could be. I think of the many people I have encountered, how each of them have enriched, or left me wanting. I think of the many whose lives are hanging by the thread, the people of Pakistan devastated by the flood, the Palestinians, the Afghans, people in war zones. Then I think of the greed and the non-caring that pervades.

Somehow, I actually believe, that we can survive corrupt regimes, by the sheer impact of nature and the normal karma. On our own, and with our best, we have tried, but we are still in the same rut, or maybe even worse, because we cannot sustain such changes, given the socio-cultural setting we are in. Nature, I believe, is the great equalizer.

If I had a day to live, what would I do with it? I would just want to be quiet, enjoy the sun, the salt air on a beach, the smell of pine trees. Maybe I would write a poem, similar to the one I wrote before:

 

I am

when i and my shadow are one
and all other shadows become
part of me
and the calm of the mist bears upon
the turmoil underneath
and there’s only the moment
to be

But something tells me, I will survive this. The breath of life is a gift that one must hold on. It is fragile, yet it has the scent of hope.

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