Friday, February 19, 2010

Coming Home

I woke up early today: much earlier than I wanted. It would have been nicer to stay in bed until breakfast, and give these joints a much needed rest. But I guess, writing never seems to leave my system. And writing stories and articles in the middle of the night has always been my habit. Always been the best time to pound words away. And i would bet, that this will have to stay.

I never really dreamed of becoming a writer, but as I grew older, I figured that I really wanna be a writer. the real one, with the published books and all. Where my work could get better and people would get to read what I think. And believe in what I believe in. But until the day that I find what it is that I am searching for, as long as I haven't really found what it is that I am searching within, the book will never be finished. nor even begun. The words are there, all above me, with a few within my reach but the whole picture hasn't been painted yet.

Thus, everyday, i dream of the house by the lake, where I could one day write my very moving book. I dream of the little boat and the red swing and the humming of the trees. I dream of the quiet life, with a dash of contentment and a sporadic dose of adventure and fun. I am like this, I crave for change but I always retreat to the solitude of home.

Do you know that I finally found home in this little city of mine? I finally found peace with my decision to come back here, because now, I get to wake up and not wish to go back to the big city. I guess, I am a farm girl by heart. and a small town girl forever. I yearned to be in the big city, where the cars, the pollution, the fashion, and the high life are. But after all has been done, after all the shopping, I decide that I always find home in my bukid..

Two years ago, I did not think this possible. But today, I know, with all honesty and with all sincerity, it really is. With my little girl by my side, baking cookies and cakes, chasing cats and chickens on weekends. Peppering my days with writing, Barney, banking and some more. I figured, the good life is here.

Yes, it is. So Come home.

1 comment:

  1. Home is where we find rest.

    There's a good reason why we call it "tahanan" in Tagalog, from the root word "tahan". Put another way, "lugal para tumahan".

    We all long for our own place of peace and quiet.

    Some of us look for it in the big city hoping that they could find it somewhere between bus stops, or elsewhere they can doze off and momentarily mute the traffic noise. Others can only dream it as they fancy of a rustic life in a house by the lake during their coffee break.

    Some of us see it as that place where they could enjoy baking cookies and cakes, chasing cats and chickens on weekends, or elsewhere they can be alone and voluntarily disappear from the maddening crowd. Others who lack a better imagination can only fake to have found it in the cramped cubicle of their work station.

    Home is a variety, from a single mother who come home to her beautiful daughter Coco to a married mother of four who eagerly waits for her husband to come home, to a bachelor who locks everyone out to write his homework doctoral dissertation.

    ReplyDelete

Tell me your thoughts!