I am not going to apologize nor make excuses. Writing has been both natural and a struggle for me of late. I often find myself thinking of new posts — of words forming sentences that could possibly be a coherent entry here — and then I fall short of actually opening a draft post and nothing is accomplished.
I have been rather busy, though. I just came from a two week trip home — twofold in that sense, since I went to Manila and visited Bicol, home of the majestic Mount Mayon, and I also spent a few days with bestie Donna down under.
So many stories waiting to be written and told. I actually am at a loss as to where to begin. Rather than organize everything in an orderly fashion, I think I have a better chance of getting something done by writing as I always do — spontaneously.
We had arrived with high hopes of capturing this beauty, but there were low lying clouds that obstructed the view. Believe it or not, the above was taken on a moving plane as we took off for the return flight to Manila. Yet another story waiting to be written.
It’s now two weeks since I got back, and the jetlag has eased up a bit, but I am still in “Manila” mode. You know that moment after you return from vacation when you find yourself drifting off to where you just came back from — and then you are jolted awake from the daydreaming by the realization you are back where you usually are. Not really a bad place to be for me, but there’s that tiny part in my heart that wishes I could have a day or two or three more. There’s always that longing to stay, even when you know you really have to get back home. The real home where work and life awaits. And so you leave and say your goodbyes.
I just let out an audible sigh. My own words are getting to me. Ha!
This trip was different for many reasons, and the new things I learned about myself and my family continue to resonate with me as I find myself moving in my normal again. I’m typing away, biding my time as I wait for the bus to come, seeing a silhouette of the Empire State Building outside my perch on the 56th floor. But my heart is 10,000 miles away, thinking how Manila is waking up to a brand new Saturday morn.
It was a good trip. Although I have a long list of things I had hoped to do and didn’t get to do, my two weeks should stave off the longing for another long break for a couple of months more at least.
I’m already planning my next vacation, but at the same time, trying to put this journey and its memories and souvenirs in order. I haven’t even gone through all the goodies that I am savoring post-Manila and Sydney!
It was good to be in my happy place. And yes, I long to come back sometime soon — but for now, I have enough memories and happy thoughts to last me until I return. So I bask in the joy and the bliss of knowing I have my happy place tucked here in my heart. I have the pictures that will take me there again. I have the memory of the laughter and the warm hugs and yes, even the not so pleasant memories bring me back to happy eventually.
My heart is full.