Pagsisilid

Hello my lovely readers

How was your holiday making going?

As for me, nothing much, just the usual daily grind since our holidays are in the weekends, so in between those special days, I had to go to work but I used my spare time well by cleaning up my bedroom. 

It was just an annual event for me, to go through stuff, clean the space and maybe sort the stuff out in properly labeled boxes. It was really the usual year-end tradition for me so I never expected anything more. However, the event surprisingly turned into a revelation for me which actually made me more than a little broken-hearted.

Do you also have those compulsions when you find something small-ish like a tin can container  or well designed sturdy small box initially made for something else, like cookies, chocolates, stationeries or other stuff, once you finish the contents, you keep the tin can/box and you use it to keep your other things? That was what I have been doing, housing my other important stuff with those containers, perhaps with the end in mind that I want to keep a semblance of order in the midst of my typically chaotic personal stuff/collection. Year after year, the boxes/tin can multiply as my personal stuff/collections multiply too. However this year, when I was doing my routine inventory somehow something tugged me from within. The small stuff contained in those boxes/tin cans have already used their time. They don't support anything that makes my creativity spark anymore, the magic atmosphere of these small physical collections is gone, the use-by date has arrived. They don't support my soul growth anymore.

I feel so heart-broken.

Initially, I was so heart-broken because I felt it; just that small stain of feeling it in a perfectly calm quiet surface of my lake of emotions makes me overly sentimental and sensitive. It was of course uncalled for, but somehow it is there and it will stay. It is something that hit home, maybe it hit me right on target, my poor poor heart. Once it is there, I cannot ignore it anymore, like a ticking clock with a final loud alarm to warn me of impending end, has started its ominous countdown.

I feel so thoroughly heart-broken.

It must be why some of us really have a hard time parting with our old stuff that we invest to have bodega or collection cabinet or big baul, it is because these little physical things, collection, or stuff were a part of us. These stuff were a part of our identity, or it contained a piece of our heart or it magically seeded our soul. It used to be our jewels or treasures, but because life changes, we grow or our interests transform, these things we collected, we used to love and cherish have lost their value and yes, they became memories as soon as the realization hit our minds or hearts.

Life, why are you so cruel?

This was bugging my mind during the weekend. I have boxes not because I want to get my stuff right away when I need them, but I have boxes to finally bury and put these old stuff into a metaphorical baul where they will be preserved. Like a museum or bodega.

Funny how boxes have different meanings depending on our perspectives. 

Anyways, yes, I have to let go of the old to make space for the new. But just like the ancients, they have traditions, sacred traditions to bury the old, to preserve the memory, to keep the magic in the vial, and to finally put these stuff in their proper place. They will be no more than memories. Oh of course, they will always hold a special place in my heart, they have great sentimental value and they won't be replaced at all, but as I have said, they will stay in baul and bodega because from now on, that is the place where they belong. 

As they say: let the dead stay dead,