List of Dreams

I need a little cheering up today, so I thought I’d update my list of dreams and desires. The last time I did this was seven years ago, when I was just starting this blog. Today, I feel the need to remind myself to hope. So here goes:

• Learn to bake. I feel like it’s one of those things that indulges all the senses. With all the scents and textures and colors, the process itself seems like a feast for the senses even before the first bite of the finished cake.

• Plant my dream garden. This is a crystal-clear vision that I’ve had all my life. Even in my grade school journals, there are pages and pages of drawings about how I want it to look. There will be big, shady trees with mossy trunks, wooden benches with ferns growing underneath, and lots of flowers that fill the air with scent. I want it to be lush, unruly, and magical.

• Write a book about Cuyonon folktales and legends, before they’re forgotten. That means I need to become fluent in the language first so that I could talk with the island’s lolos and lolas who still remember the old stories. I also want to do the same for Pala’wan folklore.

• Explore the Philippines. First on the list: Batanes in the far north. I’ve come to imagine it as my country’s own version of the Shire. After the Philippines, I want to see the rest of the world. There’s so much curiosity inside me.

• Live in a bahay kubo-inspired house, with a stained glass window. I know those two architectural aesthetics don’t really go together, but the house should fit in naturally with the garden, and I have daydreams of lying on a couch with a book while the late afternoon sun throws patterns of colored light on the floor through the window.

• Become a photographer. A really good one.  It’s a way to make fleeting moments of beauty last a little longer. It’s a way of remembering not to take them for granted.

• Make writing my main job. This is actually terrifying. I don’t know if I’m good enough, or if I’ll earn enough, or get enough people to read me. There are so many risks, and I have so much yet to learn. Still, I can’t think of anything more satisfying than making a living by following my passion.

• Start a library for kids. I want to fill it with books that made me fall in love with reading when I was a child. So many Filipino children never learn how wonderful books can be simply because they don’t have access to any, except for their textbooks (some public schools in impoverished areas don’t even have that). It’s heartbreaking. I don’t have money, connections, or expertise for such a big project, just a lot of desire. So much that I actually already have a list of titles I want to put on the shelves.

• Build a tree house. I want one where I can spread a mat on the floor and listen to wind chimes, watch the sky changing colors with the sunset, and bask in the fragrance of orchids on the tree branches.

In making this list, I’m getting a clearer picture of my desires. I want a creative, risky life.  I want adventure, quiet moments, and an abundance of beauty around me. The world of nine-to-five jobs offers more security, but the more I try to make myself fit into it, the more I feel trapped and frustrated and inadequate. I don’t know how to do this. The life I planned for since I was in high school, the life my loved ones would be reassured to see me living, feels strange on my skin. It’s someone else’s life, and I keep failing in it. But I still don’t know if I’m ready to give up trying.

One of my “practice shots” which I took with a point-and-shoot mini digital camera. It was so much fun. Can’t wait to try this with a real one.

Saving My 214

Maybe it’s because February is here, because for some reason, recent conversations I’ve had with friends keep returning to the topic of love. And when that happens, one thing is almost certain: I would have to explain why–in a time where being part of a couple is mostly the rule rather than the exception – I’ve chosen to stay single. A lot of people have told me that my standards are too high, that I’m too idealistic. So this got me thinking: Could they possibly be right? Am I waiting for someone who exists only in my imagination? Am I playing it too safe?

Maybe, in a way, I am being extra careful. I’ve made mistakes before, and I know the ache that comes from regrets over wrong decisions. But fear isn’t my motivation for waiting. It’s hope.

I’m hoping, no matter what the odds, that when the time is right, someone I can love without reservation will come. I am dreaming of a person who will be gentle with the most vulnerable side of me, the side that very few people get to see. More important than his physical appeal will be his wisdom, his tenderness, his faith. I’m not asking for someone who will go to the ends of the earth for me, but for someone who will take the effort to know me more deeply than anyone else has known me before. That may not be as easy as it seems – I am ridiculously neurotic when it comes to my personal boundaries. So I’m hoping that he will also have the patience and the sense of humor necessary to deal with the less-than-ideal aspects of my personality. And because I am obviously far from being perfect, I am praying that he will also trust me enough to let me see his flaws so that I can love him for who he is. Without hesitation, I would gladly trade all the moonlit serenades in the world for a lifetime of laughter and conversations with such a man.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for romance and the thrill of being in love. Every girl dreams of being swept off her feet. But what I’m saying is this: Without the friendship, without the spiritual bond, then all the roses and all the candlelight in the world will not make a relationship last. It’s the commitment that’s vital, more than the adrenalin rush. It’s the daily decision to make a conscious effort to put the needs of another person first. This, for me, is true love. And I know it doesn’t come easy. Love like this doesn’t grow in the time span of a slow dance or a kiss. It takes time: time to grow together, to learn about each other and to mature in generosity. So I’ve chosen to wait until I’m ready to give and to receive this kind of love. Because right now, I know that I still have a long way to go.

I know this is a risk – a risk of hoping, of trusting that somewhere in my future is the love story I am praying for. But I’m willing to take it. I’m ready to take the chance that I may be missing out on what could be the most exciting years of my life by waiting for something that I can’t even glimpse on the horizon yet. Because isn’t this what faith is all about – the substance of things unseen, the evidence of things hoped for? And I do have a guarantee that I could stake everything on: the certainty that Someone who loves me deeply is in control of my future. So from my perspective, this gamble is definitely in my favor.

It may take a long time, but that’s how it is with everything worthwhile.   I don’t feel a need to rush, for what are a few years of waiting when I’m anticipating a lifetime with the right person? In the meantime, this I know: that when he finally arrives, I will know why no other person could have taken his place. I will know that I can only belong with him and with no one else. So no matter what it takes, I am saving my heart for him. I know he will be worth it.