Am I dreaming or am I dreaming?
My unceasingly kind, generous, loving mother and I are finally at the stage of our relationship where she spontaneously gives me beauty products out of the goodness of her gracious heart. Bless her.
A few weeks ago, she came home from her last (!) business trip for the year. Before flying home from Singapore, we had a little chat (you are golden, Facebook) whilst ...
(Makeup Revolution London Beyond Flawless Ultra Eyeshadows Palette, Ultra Blush Palette in Golden Sugar, Radiance Highlighter Palette, and Goddess of Love Triple Baked Highlighter)
(Salvation Velvet Lacquer in What I Believe, Keep Crying For You, and Keep Lying For You)
This entry has been on my drafts for a while, and I felt that it was only just to finally take the time and continue what I started.
I already had my future planned.
At 23, I would be (successfully) self-employed. I would have my own studio juggling one project after another – completely lost in this whirlwind of captivating busyness, which brought me instant validation for years. I would have the luxury to write from home or whichever part of the world I would fly off to, on a whim. This online platform would be more blown-up than it is now, reaching multitudes of readers from all continents. More importantly, I would have already made a brand out of myself.
That is not the case. This glorious fantasy is completely foreign and far-fetched…as of the moment.
I have been at the same place for the last two years, a creative slave to my entertainment-savvy Filipino brothers and sisters from all walks of life. I hardly touched my blog on my first year of full-fledged, confusing, and liberating adulthood. I rarely book jobs, and when I do have the chance to work elsewhere, I am oftentimes too tired to even accept.
That is the truth, and I am pretty okay with that.
I write to my readers through the heart-wrenching pain, the undeserved goodness, and the inexorable beauty of life. I read voraciously, traveling to endless, inexhaustible worlds when I have to be still and unmoving. I try to be kind to every single person I encounter, and when I fail because I am finite, I am weary, I apologize. I pray in crowded streets, in almost empty trains, in my isolated cubicle – even when I don’t feel like it. I try to be more intentional with my relationships, I try to be present – I try so very much.
I am conquering my own selfish desires and aspirations allowing every single day to fill me with gratitude and beauty. It may be quiet, it may be unremarkable but it is a life built on purpose. I have learned to embrace delay because it is not denial. It is merely a refocusing on more important things, such as my character and my spirit.
There are days when I will feel insignificant, days when I see everyone doing everything else I am not, and that does not make me any less important.
My path is solely my own. My timeline is no one else’s.
I (must) wait, and in the waiting, may I be moved, may I be transformed.