I Can Hear The Silence....Loud and Clear

by: Oying Cayabyab  /Dec. 23, 2010

theLorelei

So there is silence and that silence is deafening and very fatal. The soundless waves are exploding in my ears and into my mind, making me crazy and confused and ultimately restless like a rabid dog. This is torture and inhumane. For one who loves to seek the truth, this is like a dagger dug deep into one's soul. As one has tried to reach out but abruptly cut like an unwanted  pest,  it could be definitely hurting and painful and all the adjectives that most describe such. What else must one do? For a female to be treated as such, it is just like being dragged and torn in the streets in front of many people. How humiliating, how low, one's self-esteem buried deep down under. Such treatment I know not, I was born not and I should not. So the female in me shouts in anger, for I know not what I have done to deserve such. And the anger in me is stifled for I was raised to contain any explosive emotions within. And it is not easy. It may seem so foolish but it is not. The female in me is the female in me still, and no man could ever change that, for I was not raised in a world of insults, degrading circumstances and other persona. I was raised as myself, to be me in all entirety. No man has the right to play with my emotions as I have been true to my word, my feelings and actions. I was being myself, in all nakedness of truth and childlike purity of intentions. A collective flow of natural instincts for one that has learned again to love.

How could one understand the other side if silence is the answer and seems to have no indication of an end. Would it be fair and right to wait in eternity? Would it also be wrong to just turn one's back and move on? There is no just answer really for the answer lays in the breakage of that silence. And it is so unfair to be leaving someone out in the cold and in the dark.

The past days were torture….you know that feeling when you want to pounce on somebody who is giving you the silent treatment and bluntly ask….”What the hell is your  problem?”. It would have been easier if two parties sit down and talk matters like two well-meaning adults. But if the other party is adamantly tight-lipped and the other party is just as curious to know what went wrong, one could immediately sense that the ball has stopped on its track and refuses to roll.

Situations as such can be fatal to a relationship, especially if it’s a young one wherein it is just starting to build a foundation.. Whether the two parties are willing to give a relationship a try for a long-term survival or just nip the bud, it is just but fair and proper to sit down and talk about their shortcomings, so both will understand where each one is coming from and learn from it.

Communication is of utmost importance. It is the key to all the lasting and successful relationships and marriages that we see today. Yet, it is the most neglected part and taken for granted by most. To be able to understand someone, one must communicate. We can not just observe a person and deduce whatever signals we feel, we might be wrong, or we might be right, but it is still important to confirm those signals by talking about it. One can not just conclude that what one sees and feels is right, it has to be explicitly said to one's face what the real picture is. Not that one is lacking in sensitivity and intelligence, but just a confirmation for a final conclusion., so that thoughts will not wander on so many speculations.

Too much of communication can be strangling too. We have to leave a person in his or her own space and thoughts. Allow each one to settle peacefully in his or  her own person. There is always a time for communication and a little silence in between. Too much of both could be poisonous and should be seriously avoided. It should flow smoothly in unison. One has to be sensitive enough to be able to know the difference and the right timing.

I shall embrace this silence deeply in my heart and learn from it. Learn that I should not let anyone hurt this heart ever again. I shall allow the silence to permeate my senses and dwell in my whole being..... to become my shield and a reminder of another dream gone by.     --> theLorelei

THE CHEMISTRY

  by:   Oying Cayabyab/Dec.16,2010

theLorelei

When I was a student,  there were subjects that I instantly liked and required not much prodding for me to spend long hours to study or do homework. There were subjects too that no matter how intently I tried to absorb in my ever stubborn brain, it just would not do. Whatever permeated and got whole inside my brain just crashed into particles and just left me feeling “duh”. While I looked and observed at how some of my classmates smoothly glided  their pens to answer problems in our homework or quizzes, cold sweat trickled down my forehead while my clammy hand held on tightly to my pen. One could feel the tip of the pen and ink repelling the paper like a dreaded disease. Yes I got to answer too but not in a  satisfactory result that would garner me medals and recognitions at the end of the school year, unlike the other subjects that were born with me in my mother’s womb. All those formulas, numbers, and those symbols or signs were all allergens to me. They were deterrents in making me  punctual in school or earn an outstanding attendance record. They made me grab the end corner of my bed mattress, hesitant to face the day in school during finals and deadline submission of projects. Of course I am exaggerating here just to make my point to the readers.

Now that I am done with all those school matters, I would come across again in my adult life on the very same word that was one of my allergens…Chemistry.  Chemistry in school was not really that difficult. In fact it was quite interesting, especially if you made a mistake in combining matters and it clashes and leave a dark soot on your nose and cuts your hair short.  Chemistry is unlike the other mathematical subjects that needed me to be a Confucius wannabe, but somehow it is a cousin. This time I am the authority on the subject…ever alive in my mind, body and soul. Not the one that dealt with the formulas and all that stuff that I rarely remember at all even with years of absorption. I am now referring to chemistry, that magical blend of intangible likeness, of mutuality, the spark, the ignition to something astoundingly beautiful and indescribable. If the combined personalities would spark and explode…then you would write on your conclusion that the experiment was a success.

Have you ever been in a room with so many people and got a chance to talk to some of them yet all you talked about were very superficial? It was more of politeness, of duty that you got to end the event with questions and answers, chatters, all those blah blah blahs…you remembered all those conversations on your way home, got to sleep at night, but the very next day all those clarity that night suddenly changed to vagueness??? And you tried to remember the minute details but it just left you with wrinkles on your forehead and you wondered whether you were being stricken with alzheimers at a very young age? Hmmmmm……..

Have you ever been in a room with so many people and got a chance to talk to most of them….but this time you got to single out a particular person or more because the conversation just flowed smoothly and comfortably?

For the sake of argument and a more concise example, I would describe two people conversing. The atmosphere is comfortable, the topics lively. There would be meeting of the minds. The other person is just starting a sentence yet at the back of your mind you already know what he or she is trying to convey. You both need not share the same opinions and yet you learn from each other, not repelling but understanding and somehow both of your opinions embrace compromisingly in your minds. You both could spend the whole day and whole night talking yet it would seem that time is still short. Sounds familiar? Uhuh…somehow you must have experienced that. Even body languages are in sync. You would even laugh at hurtful remarks cast at you because you would also do the same to the other person. Just pure honesty, no pretensions, no mask…everything is laid on the table and nothing under. And due to that lively exchange of thoughts, both of you are oblivious to your surroundings and no matter how many people there are in the room, you both just see each other, and the others are just blurry objects moving around. However loud the chatters and the music playing in the background, you both still hear each other clearly because you are both concentrated with each other. Your interests don’t wane but builds up even more. What’s more interesting to note is that no matter how long you have exchanged thoughts and shared stories of each other, you remember everything even after that. It was as if you both had manuals or handouts or souvenir booklets to bring home. And you both long to talk and see each other again and again and that manual, handout and souvenir booklets gradually become thick books that you could stack in your bookcase….volume after volume.

Chemistry, that magical ignition, that spark that leaves a burning desire aflame, inexplicable and confusing yet also certain at the same time. Even the most boring topics become animated and interesting. Words are dancing and jumping in your minds. It’s like a whirl of excitement and anticipation, never to end…never to die.

When you experience that magical spark, go and live it without a trace of hesitation. Live in that feeling of childlike happiness, like finding someone to play with you at the playground. Laugh, live and float along with the clouds up high. For there is nothing more important at that particular moment but to indulge in an interesting conversation with a very interesting person.

There would be instances that both parties are indulged in an interesting conversation and repartee but somehow something magically binding is lacking. You sometimes yawn silently in intermittent boredom and you find yourself glancing at your watch. In the middle of an even interesting conversation, your mind is in a whirl of  thoughts on the tasks you have to do at home, the schedule or appointments the following day that needed you to hit the sack early, etc. etc. etc. You are interested in the conversation but not that fully participative. There is nothing there, this is not what I am writing about. Never to confuse yourself here.

I could go on and on here in description of that word chemistry. As I have mentioned early on, this is indescribable. You will just feel it kick and explode on you and you would not have an idea at all what got you.

What Real Love is to Me

“The Prophet…..Kahlil Gibran
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“You were born together, and together you shall be for evermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness.
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each others cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each others keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each others shadow.”

—

———-theLorelei———— "The past is all I have..." - Guenevere in the movie Camelot.  This is my all-time favorite sayings of Kahlil Gibran in the book The Prophet. Often we seek to possess people because we love them and having them as in marriage or in a relationship is an assurance that the love between two people is sealed and unchanged. Marriage is a commitment…a joy of having someone to love you back and someone to start a family with. Someone to lean on, to share your dreams and aspirations with and together you start the journey of life as one. It is a never-ending compromise, a give and take, of sharing….of joys and pains. It is a beautiful bond of love and togetherness. Loving someone need not be in a relationship, marriage or any binding papers. Love should not stifle anyones happiness and growth. It should be supportive and happy in the knowledge that the person you love cares and loves you back. It should be giving and sharing,  of being supportive without any expectations. This is what they call unconditional love. Be it in marriage, relationships with someone, relationships with children, your siblings, friends and others. Kahlil Gibran’s sayings above is my comfort in knowing that I can not have the people I care for and love. For love is a strong force within me that transcends barriers, time and distance. Love for me is not keeping someone physically….rather keeping someone in ones heart….of singing the same song and having the same tune… of dancing the same dance and having the same steps…of having the same beat, rhythm and soul…..of being alone yet you are not alone………   ——theLorelei

Blog Therapy and Legacy

BLOG THERAPY & LEGACY - by Oying Cayabyab-Yago

Aug 24, '10 12:36 AM                   for lorelei's network

People who know me wonder why I sit for long hours in front of my laptop glued to the open multiple windows. Some may think it is such a waste of time sitting here when I could be doing something else more productive.

Lorelei.......behind the solitude and faint smile.

But if they only look closer and think deeper and have a little foresight up their heads, they would probably do now what I am doing.

Normally, over the past years, I have scribbled my thoughts on paper, notebooks, journals and whatever came handy that I could write on. Those notes were read only by me and never shared to anyone. Those were unedited spur of the moment outburst of emotions and unmasked thoughts.

For many reasons unknown to many, there is something in what I am doing here that has stirred my spirit, animated my imagination and organized my thoughts. I have been blogging my thoughts and sharing them to my friends. Unlike before, my thoughts now are known to everyone. This way they get to know me better and what is really behind that solitude and faint smile…what has been brewing in my mind, the unfolding of whatever mystery that has shrouded the real me. I realized that expression and communication are vital for a healthier individual. The more you get to ventilate and express clearly your thoughts and share stories, the better you feel psychologically and people understand you better.  And when that happens, it follows that you become a better individual in interacting with others. Furthermore, this exercise helps me in knowing myself better as I jot down and process my thoughts and feelings on matters.

There is also another good side to this. Time will come when I will be too old to be remembering in vivid details in sharing stories to my children and future grandchildren. When that time comes, they could open up and read my journals, dig into the archives of my blogs and eagerly get to know the old lady that loved to write and blog in her younger years.

I Was Much Younger Then....Looking Back at Days Gone By

Shattered Dream

by Lorelei Yago    on Wednesday, August 18, 2010 at 5:33pm

How do I start to write about something that has been buried deep in my heart and soul? How do I heal myself from something that has always been flashing every now and then in my mind and leaves such pain in my heart?

Time has passed and there is no turning back now. Only memories of what has been. Was I to be blamed for not stretching my patience past its limits? Or should I have stayed there and be calloused to everything and forget that I too have feelings? So many questions unanswered and I guess it will remain that way. It is my nature to mask my hurt feelings and I move on...go on with life making myself so busy to hide what has been stabbing my heart all along. In due time I always comfort myself...in due time I will forget and I will survive this painful part of my life.

It has been years and I thought I am alright now. But why is it that every time I think about it my eyes well with tears? Tears that I have so mastered to control within me....tears that I don't want people to see in me. Why is it that when I see married couples so loving with each other I get suspended in my thoughts that leaves so many questions? Was I not deserving as well? What more should I have done to save it? How much more could be asked of me?

People would say this happens even to the least unexpected. But why can't it be a two-way thing instead of just one patching it up and the other making it so difficult?

Here I am trying to heal myself by writing down my feelings in a vague manner and trying to process myself. Details I won't tell...it is sacred to me. But by doing this it lessens the pain and dries up the tears. But questions remain unanswered...........

Maybe someday I will be calloused and I won't be feeling any hurt anymore. Maybe someday my tears will no longer well my eyes and flow. Maybe someday my shattered dream will be cast into oblivion. Maybe someday people will understand me. Maybe someday questions will have answers.

Maybe someday I will dream again....................

My Mother - Leonora Quinto Sison - Cayabyab

Thank You Mama ------ Part One

by Lorelei Yago on Tuesday, June 8, 2010 at 9:39pm

This is the time of the year again when one finds time to honor one's mother. I have written drafts before wherein I put my thoughts and memories of my beloved mother but I never really got to share them and somehow I lost those drafts. My mother has passed away in 1988...but my undying love for her remains in my heart and it shall live on until it's my time to go too. With this note, it shall live on in the memories of my children and to those readers who by chance get to read this.

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As a mother myself, I look in awe at how my children have grown to be individuals with worlds of their own, making their own choices in life. I am so proud of them. Was it not just yesterday that I had carried them in my arms? Time flies so fast...indeed so fast. Having been busy raising them up and being a mother and father to them at the same time, trying to do all the obligations and responsibilities incorporated into parenthood, one feels so guilty of not having had enough time to cherish moments of their growing up years.Time was not always enough..time was always running away from me and it was hard to catch up. Now I look at them and all I have are photographs and memories of their childhood years. I have loved them dearly and I will always love them for the rest of my days.

No matter how I did my very best in raising them up I still find myself thinking that I could have done more, could have done better. It's as if there was something else I haven't done and I should have exerted more effort. Maybe a mother feels that way to her children... maybe because a mother's love knows no limits.

Now I am missing on my own mother. Did I ever thank her for all the sacrifices she has made to raise me up to what I have become now? There were no words spoken about how she felt about me. But I knew...I knew and I felt how much she loved me as a child, my turbulent teenage years, my college days and by the time I got married and had children of my own. Between us words were not necessary..we understood each other on how much love and affection we have for each other.

When I think of home I think of my mother. She was always there with open arms, a loving heart and a warm smile. As a child, the first thing that I did upon entering the house upon arriving home from school was to find her and run to her to make "mano", embrace her tightly and kiss her face, her cheeks, her nose and her chin.I loved doing that to her because it made her smile. There would always be hot food on the table waiting for a hungry child. Whenever I got sick, she would always attend to me and she would sleep beside me just to assure me that I will be alright. Her warm embrace was sufficient to make me feel better more than the bitter medicines that I had a hard time swallowing down my throat.

She knew what was going on in my life even if I didn't utter a word to her. When I broke up with my boyfriend in college and I was despondent that I just stayed in my room most of the time, she would go upstairs in my room and just stayed there, probably hoping that I would open up my miseries to her which I never did. But she stayed there and even asked me if she could sleep in the other bed that night. I had two beds in my room and she just stayed there telling me stories and I was politely listening to her. Little did I know that she was doing that on purpose, to divert my thoughts and feelings so that I would feel better and think less of my boyfriend and the pain even for that night only. How did she know I was in pain that night? In a way it became my healing process until as of this writing. Whenever I am emotionally upset, I try to keep my mind and body busy in order for me to think less of the problem and to feel less of the pain. That was how I learned how to get by. And I thank my mother for that..for teaching me to be strong in her own subtle way.

In high school, she would always be called to the principal's office along with the other parents due to the pranks me and my classmates always ended up doing. She would reprimand me afterward when we were alone together, never in the presence of anyone. She respected my person even if I put her on the spot and into shame for having a mischievous daughter. She knew that I was just having fun and enjoying my teenage years. I knew that she didn't approve of such but she gave me the freedom anyhow to just do what my young spirit could possibly do...and if I fell and hurt myself, she will leave me alone to stand up on my own two feet again but she would be there behind and beside me just in case I needed her hand to raise me up.

Even if she didn't approve of the man I wanted to marry, she respected my decision. She knew how stubborn I was and how I wanted to have what I really wanted as long as I could justify my choice. She came to my room one night and asked me if I was sure of my decision, then she gave me the pros and cons of such. She left me in my room to give me privacy..to give me time to weigh matters on my own. I was in love and everything seemed possible to me. I wanted to be married and live happily ever after so to speak. I finally decided to leave behind my happy, carefree, single life to be with the man I love. I wanted to grow old with him and to take care of him just like how my mother took care of my dear father. I saw how much they loved each other and I wanted that badly for my own married life. So I got married. Years after I tell myself....I should have listened to my mother, I should have given myself more time to weigh matters...the pros and cons. I never hinted to my mother that her daughter was no longer happy after all. I had always put a smile on my face to deceive her that I made the right decision. But Mama, my dear Mama must have perceived that to happen .....because long before I got married she wrote me a letter........to always "smile" even if my heart is breaking...just like in the song "smile".....she was already teaching me on how I will get by and how to move on basing on her mother's instinct that someday I will experience this pain in my life.

And I miss her so much....because she was always there... she always knew... and she loved me unconditionally for who I was and what I have become......no words spoken between us until she passed away. As a mother now.....I understand and feel in my heart those unspoken words of love and affection....and it is breaking my heart because she is no longer here beside me. I would like to embrace her and thank her.....and all I could do now is to write this note for her.

My Thoughts on Paper

MY THOUGHTS ON PAPER - by Oying Cayabyab-Yago

Aug 24, '10 1:40 AM for lorelei's network

 

I am always writing.  Whether it is in my journal, a piece of paper, a table napkin, at the back of my planner or work notebook.  Somewhere along the pages of my numerous notebooks one will find some scribbles on thoughts, on feelings and opinions that I have somehow ventilated at the spur of the moment. Somehow, putting my thoughts on paper is an emotional release on my end…a habit that I have developed as a growing up kid when so many questions filled my mind and so few answers to empty it. My teenage and college years were most intense when emotions were high and intolerable and one needed to somehow find a way to relate, to communicate and to be understood.

A lot of my scribbles then were love and crush related. You know that feeling if you were a girl and you had a crush on a cute guy and you just didn't know what to do. I guess the opposite sex had the same experience except that most guys were expected to make the first move in showing their feelings for the girl that they were crushing on. For most girls during my time, we were taught to wait for the guy to open up their feelings and not show our feelings first. So there goes. Suppressed feelings. All those went to the pages of my notebooks. That time if a girl showed some interest first to a guy, she got branded as a flirt, aggressive and all bad names that seemed like you went to bed with any Tom, Dick and Harry when all you did was smile and said hello to a cute guy and maybe along the way mentioned that you liked him. I would have nothing of that more so if it reached the ears of my parents and siblings. I would be for sure reprimanded and grounded for the rest of my party days. So I was careful and watched my moves that it did not go beyond the firing line. Not that I am complaining now, I am somehow grateful that I had that strict upbringing, otherwise dear me would have chased all the handsome and cute guys that I met during those years and maybe either scared the guys away or they took advantage of poor me. So all those ”I love you” and “I like you” and “You are sooooo cute” were  written on those pages instead of telling those feelings for the cute guy who was so slow in making the first move.  Somehow, after going out on many dates like eating out and watching a movie and the guy has not uttered any emotional interest even if obviously he liked me,  I would be silently screaming inside of me that he was taking his sweet time and maybe wasting my time. So there….my shock absorbers were my poor notebooks. Most of the above were during my high school days.

I was a bit more open and a little more confident about myself during college days. So writing became scant and relegated to serious situations like break-ups and jealousies. Also when I was overjoyed with a certain emotional development. So those became my main topics. I even shared a common journal with my boyfriend at that time wherein we wrote what we were feeling at that time most especially when we were mad at each other and we could not express our frustrations verbally. Hmmm…writing about that now makes me wonder where that journal went. Anyhow, aside from those ventilated frustrations, amorous notes were also scribbled and it made each day exciting as we were both in anticipation on what each one wrote.

Confusion also made its way into the pages of my college notebooks. Though I was so in love with my current boyfriend that time in college, there were stages in my love life that I crushed as well on other guys who gave me the much-needed attention and care that I did so needed that time, emotional voids in my life that needed nurturing. Tried so hard  to avoid such complication in my life but one thing that it really taught me….that one cannot teach a heart whom to love. And I just had to be fair to both of them. One's intelligence will not suffice all the logic behind what one's heart really feels. That time I was in total confusion and my notebooks were filled to the last pages with my emotions, I found myself writing and  pouring it all out there on paper, it made me feel a bit better but not totally. So with all the confusion that my dearest loving heart got me into, and bearing logic to mind, I broke off with two guys I dearly held close to my heart. They both meant the world to me. That way I thought I won’t be hurting anyone with jealousy and bruise their pride. That was how much I loved them both…so I let go. I just let go. I wanted to clear myself also of the confusion that  grew in my heart and mind.  And I was left alone with more notebooks to write on about the loneliness and hurt I had to deal with… and heal by myself with my journals…my notebooks…table napkins and any paper on sight and grab.

Thank You Genie

Aug 24, '10 2:13 AM

One day in 2003, my son Michael came home happily holding a tiny pup in his arms given by one of his friends. We named her Genie, and from that day on Genie has touched and changed our lives.

We never knew her breed but her stance and intelligence told us that she was no ordinary dog. Her ears were always alert, her big clear eyes would look at us and we definitely understood what she was trying to convey. It wasn’t hard making Genie understand us as well. At the mere change of my voice pitch, she understood if I was mad at her or if I found out that she again sat at the forbidden couch. I knew she understood me because she would slowly walk away from me with head down and tail intact. She would wait for a chance to reconcile with me by staying a few meters away from me, laying flat on her stomach and looking at me waiting for a cue. Looking so pathetic and apologetic, Genie never failed to get my forgiveness. So I called her name and she happily wagged her tail and approached me. We would be friends again.

Thank you Genie...I won't forget you ever.

Having been ever so busy with chores and my job, I managed to teach her a few tricks. She stood on her hind legs and waved her two front legs if I said “beg” whenever I fed her. She didn’t touch our food knowing that it was not meant for her, but she waited just in case there were some leftovers. No matter how hungry she got, she was always gentle in getting the piece of meat from my hand whenever I gave her a taste of what I was eating. She danced with me whenever I did my dance exercises by standing on her two legs and moving forward and backward. She always approached me whenever I was sitting on a chair, ready for a pat on her head, a rub on her belly. I said “hug” and she obediently put her two front legs on my lap and gently rested her head against my arms and chest. How I love her so much.


Before I could open the gate at the garage whenever I came home, she already knew that it was me out there. She would get so excited inside the house in anticipation of my being home at last. Genie would follow me around and watch me all day and all night. She guarded me the best she could and I knew she loved me as well, much more than I showed her.

We played rough games. I teased her a lot by letting her lay down on her back and spin her around on the floor. Then I dragged her around testing her patience and trust in me. She never got irritated and enjoyed the rough games. She trusted me so much.

For all the years that went by she was my companion, my bodyguard, my playmate, my friend, my buddy. She was there with me during my ups and downs. She was always waiting for me to come home.

Early this year I left for a trip abroad and I hugged her tightly before I left. She looked at me knowingly that I will be away for a long time. I remember those big round eyes staring at me.

I never got to see her again. She died while I was still abroad and my heart died with her. I was in tears and my body numb when I learned about the sad news.

I lost my Genie…..my friend, my buddy, my playmate, my bodyguard, my ever loyal companion. Though I lost her, she is never lost in my heart and thoughts.

Coming home is never the same again.