The notebook

There are times when I sit before the computer with nothing before me but a looming deadline. The words do not come, and though I have a million little stories that I want to share with all of you, I seem to always be at a loss as to how to tie them together and pass them on in a way that is not hodgepodge or soupy.

Today is another one of those days. I just woke up after a restful 10-hour sleep and I want to take you to the many little places in my little life. But where do I begin? Where do you even want to go in the first place? Boracay, where I just was? Dance rehearsals with the Hotlegs which was such a thrill? The wonderful new book I am reading or the one I just finished that made me cry? Do I share with you the fun shoot I had for a magazine? The yummy soy latte with a shot of almond from Starbucks (I learned about it from Kris). Or do I tell you about how some things happen instantly and how most others need a process? Do I let you in on God’s mysterious but wonderful ways or how it is a blessing in itself just to be?

I try to think of you like a girlfriend. I can tell you whatever, every Sunday, share with you stuff from two different points plus everything in between and trust that at some point you will find the information useful.

For now, let me tell you about this little notebook I have. I totally forgot I even have it until last week when I was cleaning out my desk. It is like a journal of some sort except that I do not make regular entries. Let me correct myself. The entries are so irregular that they skip not just days but months. And instead of long, sudsy essays the pages of my notebook showcase lists, wish lists, if you can call them that. I have random thoughts scribbled as well, including catchy phrases that I have caught and never want to let go of. Thoughts captured from the pages of a book, the mouth of children so pure of heart, the lips of a person just healed from his/her brokenness.

In my notebook, too, are drawings. Not mine but my daughter’s. Happy faces and fat hearts that dance with the ruffling of the pages, illustrations of her daddy and mommy hand in hand on the beach, a seascape and what also looks like a landscape, hats of many different shapes and sizes (she does seem to have a fondness for them). I have many lists of things and people I am thankful for, written at many different times, lots of different moods.

I once read Bo Sanchez’s book, Simplify and Live the Good Life and in there is an exercise where he asks the reader to list down 50 blessings he/she enjoys each day. In the next breath he says to not stop until you reach 50. Try it. You will be surprised how fast you will fill up the page. You’ll even be surprised to find out you cannot stop at just fifty!

Back in high school I was so traumatized when I found out an aunt of mine read my diary, slipping in uninvited, unwanted into the space of my little dreams, my random little thoughts and though she did not find anything more juicy than why I did not enjoy about that particular Flores de Mayo, why I liked the little boy in school that everyone else thought looked odd (I always liked the ones that did not fit the standard the same way I swooned more over Val Kilmer in Top Gun than I did Tom Cruise), and why I was frightened of the schoolmate with 11 fingers (at my age it was scary because he did not even smile much to begin with and just kept on staring, staring, staring blankly into space). As if that were not enough, a cousin of mine pulled the same stunt my aunt did, prying open my drawer and teaching me a lesson I never forgot about the invasion of privacy.

I told myself I would never give anyone that satisfaction, that chance again. It was then that I learned to write cryptically until I lost all enthusiasm for that because years later I could no longer make heads and tails of who and what I was writing about in the first place. So, I went back to writing in my journal the normal, transparent way, thoughts bare-naked. Except now I do it in the form of lists. Should my notebook fall into the wrong hands, chances are they will enjoy my list and hopefully be inspired to start their own. No deep secrets etched in long, languid words, just secret wishes from my heart succinctly stated in snappy one-liners.

The best part? I get to check them as I go along life’s way. On pages one and two which had an entry date of March 23, 2005, 13 out of 20 already came to be. It’s like a flower seed that you plant. You wait and wait for it to bloom and grow and one day you just wake up, look out in the garden and realize it already has. You may not always be aware of the steady development occurring but you have to believe it is taking place.

So with our dreams. We pray about them, we sometimes forget we ever even wanted them, and one day we realize it is already there. God heard us when we whispered. And He did not forget even when we did.

I go through the pages of my notebook now and realize yet again, I do have so, so much to be thankful for. As such, I do have lots to share with all of you.

See you again next Sunday.