Waiting

It is true that when we risk, even if we lose, we are happy in the end because we at least tried. But how true is it when they say that everything happens for a reason and good things happen to those who wait? I have yet to find out.

Almost two weeks ago, I went to an interview and vtr for a hosting job. The director asked me to tell them about myself. "Yabangan mo k'me" were his exact words. I smiled and instead of making "yabang", I decided to tell a short story about the past two years of my life. In the end, I told them the truth -- that I fell in love with hosting. Then the director scheduled me for my second call that day. A few days later, I received a phone call for a final screening.

So last Tuesday I went back to the studio and gave them my best shot.

Afterwhich, I surrendered myself to their decision-making body. Whether I land this job or not, I know at the back of my mind that at least I tried. :)

Now, I wait.

It doesn't hurt that while I'm waiting, I'm preoccupied with other things. As I often tell my friends, all these activities that I've been doing for the past year have been and remain to be my coping mechanism. For what? To cope with whatever I am waiting for.

When I'm waiting for something or even if I'm waiting for someone, I cope better when I feel that I am not waiting at all. My life moves on, hoping that whatever or whoever I am waiting for will soon follow. I cope better when I dance, when I have a paper to write, when I have research to do, when I have TV series to watch (preferably House MD and now Scrubs), when I practice my zips, when I have my girlfriends around, when I have my sisters to chat with all day looong, when I try out new things, or when I blog. The list continues to grow.

If I don't do them, the more I am aware that I am waiting for something or for someone. And the more aware I am of my own waiting makes me more impatient, more irritable, more restless. (or maybe sometimes those are actually from hormonal imbalances.)

Waiting has its funny way of being mastered actually. It's one of those few things that gets mastered precisely by not focusing on it.

So now, after blogging about it, I've freed myself from all the waiting. For now ;)

Solemnly
I came from my college friend's mom's wake this morning. I didn't want to write about it a while ago but I had the urge to do so because I found a different kind of strength from her that I just had to share.

They just flew back in from San Francisco yesterday and went straight to Church for the wake. She said that one could never be too ready for this kind of thing but atleast she and her sister were readier now than if it happened 8 years ago or back in college. And as I said, I saw strength in her as she told us short anecdotes about her mom in the hospital. How it was for the past days and how they peacefully let go of her. It's the kind of strength that makes you look up to that person even more. It's the kind of strength that makes you proud of that person. It's the kind of strength that makes you cry a little or cry a little more. It's the kind of strength that you wish you had but at the same time you wish you wouldn't be forced to have yet. Atleast for me, that was the kind of strength that I saw and felt this morning.

I didn't cry like I often do although I felt a bit teary-eyed for a while. Most of our time there were spent catching up with each other's stories and updates. There were lots of laughing, story-telling, laughing... And of course there were the pats, the kisses, and the hugs that one couldn't live without.

And that is why I know my friend has the strength for all these... Because the strongest persons are the ones who know that they will always need others with them in their lives.