I’m not going back. Natural disaster hit the pause button and I am in tropical limbo with a volcano spewing ash over metro manila. Hold up Little Heroine. The learnings aren’t done yet.
This morning I went to our local church for the first of my daily rosaries and when I returned my domestic flight had been cancelled. Let me tell you all this praying has really made me chill. I submit to the “divine plan” which sounds apathetic at worst but the more I try and be the captain of my own fate the more my petit little sailboat sinks.
My grandmother looked me straight in the eye and said “I prayed that if you were not meant to go then you would not go”. How does she always get what she wants? I’m not mad about it; just acutely aware of some otherworld mysticism she may be tuned in to. My mother says that my grandmother has the caliente boca – this translates to “hot mouth”. Watch your thoughts that’s my grandma m8. What the expression means is that whatever she speaks comes true. I told this to my psychic once and she said that my grandmother can’t will things into happening (like that’s not in the realm of witchy super powers.). My grandmother speaks the truth, which is apparently different because she can sense it before it happens, intentional or not. High intuition. Again, how do I get more of that?
I am very curious as to how this one unfolds. I’m not seeking a lesson. I’m not tearing my thoughts apart (new). I am just waiting it out.
Volcanoes are pretty volatile large things so who knows if this temperamental mound will calm it’s farm. It surprise became active twenty-four hours before I was due to fly. How’s that for timing. The Internet taught me that volcanic ash is dangerous because it is full of tiny particles of minerals and glass, fun fact. The photos look like the apocalypse. The bushfires in Australia, the volcano here. I thought that it would be Australia with billows of smoke that would not welcome me home. Is the planet hostile or am I being held hostage? My knees are still bruised from my attempt to hobble down the stone aisle. Give me retribution. Give me something. Give me what I need. Please, give me an answer.
Well, that was swift. I just got an email.
My international flight has also been cancelled. Ok, God. I’m listening.
My great-aunt died this morning, stomach cancer. She was brash, smart and unmarried. She died the day after her 79th birthday. Last time I was here, there was a typhoon and a dead cousin (he also died just after his 30th birthday).
I remember my mother once saying that every time she came home someone died. Given the size of our family, I would say it’s more a numbers game when you’re related to everyone in your five-kilometer radius. Curse stands. Blood curse stands.
I wrote extensively on the rituals around death last time. What I remember most is the idea that for the next nine days the soul remains on earth. Now, is the time to send up your prayers to God because you have a direct messenger. Morbid but practical. None of it is supposed to make sense Little Heroine. That’s where the magic lives.
Life is… blessed, surprising, wild and easy. Some where between religion and self-help I read that whatever way we chose to view life that is how it becomes. Our expectation becomes our reality. If life is hard. Then it will be hard. Remember that time I went mad recently because I couldn’t handle that my perception of the world would change the reality of the experience and situation. I told you about my rise and fall between extreme emotion. Old news. Sometimes I am afraid nothing is real. Sometimes I am more afraid that I can’t wish reality into my dreams. I don’t know which is worse. Both rely on blind faith. Brb still working on it. Do you mind holding please?