The day was Friday, and just like any other morning, I woke up thinking of the following things: what to pack for the kids’ lunches, which coffee to brew, Vanhoutte’s hazel vanilla or Nescafe’s house blend, and how the heck I can overcome the daily resistance of the dreaded morning workout routine which seems to get harder and harder every year!
Oh, there’s another thing that’s been added to my morning’s running script in my head: What songs am I going to sing for my show in California in November?!?
So I went to the bathroom, but before going, I glanced at my phone’s prompts, a daily habit now, and briefly saw it: (paraphrasing)
I’ve been ignoring my signs for a very long time. My closest and dearest will tell you how many excuses I’ve made, how often I added all sorts of drama to the mix and frankly, it gets boring after a while. Thank YOU, to you who have listened, supported, put up with me.
In his book, Turning Pro, Mr. Steven Pressfield (The War of Art, The Legend of Bagger Vance, Do The Work) shares a story from his younger years about this particular cat that used to stare him down when he had his dinner at this rundown rental he used to live in.
Almost every night, as he sat by the cinderblock steps out back, this red-headed cat would come out from his side of the woods where he lived and just sit and stare at Steve, as if to give the vital message of how pathetic his life had become. At this point in his hero’s journey, Steve had come to terms with his hiding and avoiding his true calling: writing books. He knew he was making up excuses and BS ones at that. He’s been a trucker, an apple picker, a taxi driver among many other odd jobs, divorced, and was basically watching his life swirl slowly down the great metaphorical drain one miserable year at a time.
Redhead (let’s name him that for now) he recalls, would not even take the dinner scraps that he would toss out across the distance to him. “He was nobody’s pet.” and made sure he knew it. In this staring contest, Steve continues, they both who was boss. Both knew who was in control of their lives and who was not. Both knew who had the upper hand.
Redhead sat there there, staring, daring SP to do it already.
Redhead was Steve’s life metaphor. He says,
“I miss that cat. I missed him nights he didn’t show up. I miss him now.”
So, as I was making the kids’ third (and 458th) chicken/bacon sandwich for the school lunches, after frying four eggs – two sunny side, the usual for Joshim and two scrambled, Oona’s special request; as I just finished wiping down the breakfast table and by chance, glanced out the sliding glass door of my kitchen, as I looked across the crab grass and weeds growing in our backyard, I had the sweetest sight of my morning : a shock of bright red-orange against deep, dark green.
Redhead. My Redhead was right there. This time he was facing away, back towards me, and immediately I knew it was him.
And this time with a message for me: “I’m here. And I’m watching you.”
As I opened the sliding door as gently and quietly as I could, he turned his big, round head and faced me and just as he did with Steve, stared at me for a full minute unmoving as if in a dare:
I knew. At that very moment, with Steve’s words and all of the 94 chapters of the book, MY book, Turning Pro still ringing in my ears, I knew.
My own life metaphor was staring me in the face.
Like Steve, and I imagine like you, we’ve all had my very own version of “slow-swirl”. Thanfully mine hasn’t been Steve’s version of miserable. Though you know what I mean when I say there’s that empty, hollow feeling, almost like a hole in your heart from all the hiding and feeling self-doubt and shame. There were years of not singing a single song, all because I was…what? Afraid of trying again. I felt and allowed the fear to take over. I’ve had my own share of making excuses. And now…
My Redhead. He’s watching me.
Of course I took a photo:
And I didn’t wait another minute and shared it with Steve. Yes, we’re definitely on first-name basis now.
i was so happy to finally get out of the house and grab me some proper Me-time yesterday! the last time i went to the spa was…naku, last winter pa yata! my sister-in-law, joliet, and i drove to yorkdale, parked our cars there, and then took the subway downtown.
we ended up in body blitz on king street east by 11AM. after registering and getting the first-timers’ tour, i was buzzing with glee especially as my tight muscles touched down onto the first of the four pools of the water therapies : the dead sea pool. ahhh, bliss! my mommy-stress officially floated up and out of the building right there and then.
“Ako ay nagbalik
Sa init ng iyong yakap
Parang ibong sabik sa isang pugad
Nadanas kong lungkot
Nang kita’y aking iwan
Na di pa dinanas ng sinuman”
Yakap, A.M.B Junior (composer)
Let me try translating this into English:
“I came back
To the warmth of your embrace
Like a bird missing her nest
I experienced intense sadness
When I left you
A sadness never felt by anyone else…”
Antonio Morales Barretto, the original singer/songwriter of this beautiful song, probably dedicated this song to his special girl. Or guy.
Anyway, back to the song, one that’s so easy on the ears and so deliciously sing-able, I’m singing..and more importantly, sharing this warm embrace with you ~