writing for sanity poem #4

i celebrated 
both the ways
light
and darkness
touched his face.

writing for sanity poem #3

i am made of truth
that is fully clothed
in metaphor.
taking comfort
in my mask of lies.

i am a liar.

it is not that
i despise being true
it is just that
i feel vulnerable
being naked.

desired

does he make me feel loved?
love?
he makes me feel desired.
Tangled in my hair,
resting on my shoulders,
circling my waist and stomach,
on my leg,
on my knee,
he makes sure his hands never left my body.
when i stir
he stirs with me
just to make sure
whatever position i decide to sleep in,
i am always enveloped in his arms.
how can i complain
about my imperfections,
when he has kissed
every inch of my me.
traced cities,
written words,
on my skin
with his fingers
and tongue.
i am desired
in the way that
i will always want.

the truth about the river

the truth is,
i held out my arms
to embrace you
and interupt your flow.

the truth is,
when i dipped my feet
i thought that
your current would break.

but i watched you go on
and i said, 'just go on.'
the truth is 
i know, i can't ask a river to stay.

The Philippines’ Highest Peak: Yes

Conflicted. This is how I felt when a friend emailed me the invitation to climb Mt. Apo. I have climbed mountains before and I survived but there was something about this invitation that scared and excited me simultaneously. I was scared because although I have done this before, it was never in this scale. I am not in any way athletic. I am not sickly but to call me healthy is being very kind. The only reason that I did this sort of thing before was that my friends are going and I often say yes to trips before asking for details.  True to form, I said yes. Something about the prospect of travel and testing limits always gets me to say yes.

Before the climb

I can’t count the times that I changed my mind about the climb. Some people basically told me that if I go, I'd die. It’s only for expert climbers, they’d say.  Of course, I thought they were right. I just didn’t admit it. Plus, they forgot one little detail about me: When people say I can’t do something, I’d risk life and limb just to prove those people wrong.

So I began to put a little effort into jogging every other day to prepare my legs. Arthritis runs in the family. But every other day became every week and then every other week before I forgot about it. As for the team and I we made 2 practice climbs on shorter mountains to prepare. This sums up my physical preparation. The rest of the time I was trying to convince myself that I will make it, somehow.

During the climb

From Davao, we needed get to the foot of the mountain by a dump truck. I don’t have any qualms about riding a vehicle with no seats until we got to the really bumpy parts of the road where I was almost sure that the truck would somersault. It didn’t help that the trip started at 12 midnight and I couldn’t see anything.

It was still dark when the trek started. The trail was damp but it was at the beginning of the trek so we were still talking and laughing. A couple of hours in, the laughing got lesser and I was just talking to myself in my head. What was I trying to prove? Can I still get out of this? Why am I punishing myself?

The trail to Mount Apo was not all pain, actually it was amazing. It took us two days to reach the peak. We trekked through rivers, climbed boulders, inhaled sulfur and bathed in a freezing lake. It was tough but when you are in the middle of nowhere, the only way to go is forward and the best words you’ll ever hear are ‘Take five!’

Day one they said was the easier part. According to our more experienced companions, day one was  the safer, more relaxed trail. I wasn’t sure what they meant because I ripped my pants on day one trying to jump over a fallen tree. It was reinforced with duct tape and I was sporting that through steep climbs and rivers. When it was almost dark out, we set up camp at Mt Godi-Godi.

Day two aka the challenging part proved to be just that: challenging. We climbed through boulders and to the sulfur side of the mountain. Masks are required and some eyewear because sulfur hurts your lungs and eyes. Along the road there were those little wild berries which we distracted ourselves with collecting. They were good too.

The peak was the best part. It was difficult to get out of the tent because it was freezing.  Coffee and Milo, they tasted so much better when your fingers are shaking along with pretty much the rest of your body. This is tricky though because as you can imagine, there were no toilets. You have to get sneaky and creative.

We spent the night at the peak telling stories and discovering that we lead different lives, believe in different things and come from different places but at the core, people are people. We all have stories to share.  We even tell them in different ways but each one is valuable.

We had to wake up really early the next morning to watch the sunrise. I almost passed up on this but since I was already there, I took the 30 minute walk with everybody else.  Nature did not disappoint. To this day, I have never seen a sight so beautiful. Imagine yourself perched up at the top of a mountain with blankets of clouds on your feet greeted by a spectrum of colors. I was in awe, proud that I am a part of this big beautiful world. I felt wonderfully small.

When the destination is too far away, the thought of giving up always walks with you. Pain and exhaustion, they have a way of convincing you to get mad, to distract you from the wonderful things that you should be taking in. When you are struggling it is hard to see anything else other than the struggle. The good thing about trudging the uncomfortable road to your destination with friends is that they ask you if you are okay. It’s a small thing but it does a lot. You look at them and recognize the struggle in their faces and realize that you are not alone. They joke about pain and exhaustion and that reminds you that these things are real and when you just accept them as a natural part of your reality they become less powerful. Friends remind you to take another step.

After the climb

When we reached the end of the trail, I was in disbelief. My body would prove that I really did put myself through all that but my mind was still blown away. The way the journey changed me is this: It has affirmed all the positive things that I believed in. It made me realize that sometimes strength from within is made stronger when you open yourself up to possibilities. When you stop and appreciate that you are a part of a big and mighty world, everything else like fear, pride and insecurities become smaller.

When I came back home, I was in a world of muscle pain. But from time to time, I'd smile to myself thinking of the mountains that I have just conquered. I have climbed the country's highest peak and I have conquered my mountains of doubts and insecurities. I smile to myself knowing that I have a list of things that I regret not doing but there was this moment when I got a little brave and took another step. I now know that I can be brave.

There are a lot of steps that we can refuse to take: Not climbing a mountain, not hearing someone out, not kissing someone, not fighting for something you believe in or not speaking your mind. It could be anything. The beauty of life is that it continually shows us paths so we always have a chance at it. It also places people along the way to ask you if you are okay.

So walk, breathe, smile, run, swim, leap, fly.  Take a step. Adventure really is out there.