Twice Blest

Sometimes a phrase gets a grip of your mind and won’t let go. It whispers in your ear "twice blessed" and you find yourself wondering if that is the correct form or is it "twice blest"? With hyphen or without? Where did that come from? The source eludes you, slips over the rim of memory every time you’re about to catch it. Then suddenly as you stare out of a skyscraper’s picture window at the dismal view outside, the whole quote floats up to you, "The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth like the gentle rain from heaven to the place beneath. ‘Tis twice blest. It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. . ." And suddenly you know: Portia, Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare, freshman high school, Maryknoll College, Sister Elizabeth Mary.

Those were the days when we were taught English Composition and English Literature like they were important, like our futures depended on them. And they did. Where would I be today if I did not write and speak English well? I would not be sitting in this skyscraper contemplating Makati’s skyline and wondering where the phrase "twice blessed" came from while in front of me 15 of my students scribble or look confused or stuff themselves with doughnuts trying to derive images from color, trying to jolt their imaginations.

This is our fifth session. We are more than halfway through my Joy of Writing course. I am beginning to hear the change in their voices — oral and written. I am beginning to see the twinkle in their eyes, the glow that suffuses the faces they turn to me. I hear and see them experience the joy of writing.

I remember always how it was the first few sessions, their tentativeness, the shyness, the hesitation. Now here before me they begin to bloom like sunflowers who turn their faces to the sun. They are proud of their work. They are confident. They volunteer to read their pieces. How beautiful it is, this luminous moment I call The Breakthrough. You see it and you know that one more student has seen a level of himself not visited before. What a feeling it is to know you were instrumental in showing him or her the way. Another phrase floats to the surface of my mind, this time from a prayer, "Lord make me an instrument. . . where there is darkness, let me sow light. . ."

This time last year, I was weeping over my thesis, foolish woman that I am. Who told me to go back to school so late in my life? What was I trying to prove? I remember consoling myself thinking: This time next year, it will be different. Hold that thought and you will get through this. I didn’t think then that life would be this different and this heart-ful — that’s my word for a heart full of gratitude. And frankly, I didn’t think I would really turn into an entrepreneur, but that’s exactly what I’ve become. Life works in strange ways when we surrender to it.

I left the safe professional world I had inhabited for 30 years. It was a leap into the void, a real leap of faith and I did not know where I would land. Neither did I very much care. All I knew was that I could not stay where I was and be happy and this late in life happiness is of paramount importance because there’s less time. This late in life we realize that energy, zest, life should be lived at a boil and a roil still, that every moment we have must be infused with honesty, joy, doing what we do best and loving it or what’s a life for? This late in life we learn that our gifts are for sharing.

I did not know when I launched my writing classes that they would yield these results. "Thank you," the note said, "your writing classes unlocked places in me and my best friend says I am a much easier person now." I invited the student who sent me this note to dinner. "What’s so special about the course? Can we try to identify it?" Those were the questions I wanted discussed because I knew, could see, that this writing course offered much more than just writing skills. Students don’t want to graduate, agitate for an advanced course. Students learn fast and beam happily. Some think my classes are the ultimate solution to all problems. I really don’t know why so I try to find answers.

Under pressure to create an advanced course, I have been reading books related to the methodology I use for teaching writing. One of the books said that when we were originally taught to write, we were told to think before writing, hence we were encouraged to work out of outlines, to keep our thoughts from straying. The method I use however teaches the student to free himself, to let the writing lead the thinking, to explore thought through writing and consequently to deepen them. Thus, the side effect of my writing class is self-discovery. That is what makes my students’ faces luminous. Everyone enjoys and benefits from self-discovery.

It is the end of the year and all my sessions are graduating one by one. The graduation ceremonies are getting better and better. I now have a roster of graduates and more than a hundred new friends who have generously shared their stories and voices with me. Through their learning I have learned much and my heart is so full of gratitude for what life has become. This is the source of the chant, the phrase, the mantra that grips my mind and won’t let go — twice blest, thrice blest, most blessed. Thank you for making me twice blest.

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