MaryChristine.Me

Again, my apologies for the long silence here.

The previous year was a major overhaul– uprooting my mini family and settling down into a beautiful city down south, juggling family responsibilities across continents, and keeping up with work obligations just made posting photos in my social media accounts (instead of blogging) irresistible.

Yes– I faced major challenges.  2014 was a bully. But if I’m still here blogging about it, then I’ve already won against it.

My move shook my relationships– long-standing friendships that spanned decades, ambiguous relationships with mostly emotionally-absent men, and budding friendships that could have been more.

Yes– I said my goodbyes and promised to keep in touch with everyone. But distance, new faces, new places, and new routines have gradually reshaped those relationships into online conversations usually happening on Viber, Messenger, and Skype. (save for a few who took the time to see me in the new city that I moved into)

Is there anything new that I can share with you here?

YES– there is.

I admit– some people have come and gone in my life these past 11 months. That kind of turnover could make anyone an emotional wreck or become a battle-tested relationship warrior. So, I chose to be the latter.

How to deal?

If you’re in a toxic relationship, or are struggling in a relationship beyond it’s Sell Before date, then let me end by sharing this : “At some point, you have to let go, accept things as they are, see him/her for what he/she is, opt out of the crap, and be good to yourself.”

Love and Light. — Mary Christine

I experienced my first triumph as a lawyer at 23.

I was what lawyers call “under-bar” or a law graduate practising while waiting for the bar results.

It was a criminal case entitled, “PP vs. Rhodora Sulit”. The accused was found guilty of possession of drugs and drug pushing at the trial court. On automatic review at the Supreme Court, Ms. Sulit’s case was assigned to a senior partner at the law firm where I worked as a mere associate, as her counsel de oficio. Expectedly, the appointed partner was not enthusiastic about it. Under-bar associates do the dirty jobs and most of the legwork at big firms. As one such associate, I carefully studied her case and dutifully prepared the Petition for Review. The senior partner signed copies of the pleadings and submitted them without taking a second look at the papers I authored. I guess that lawyer expected to lose the appeal, and couldn’t care less since the accused was not a paying client, nor was she someone who anyone at the firm knew personally.

Many weeks after, and a couple of projects in the meantime, we received an envelope containing a decision that simply said the lower court’s decision was REVERSED. The accused was acquitted. The senior partners of the firm shook their heads in disbelief. They admitted that they never bothered with the appeal because the findings of the lower court seemed to be airtight. Some thought it was sheer luck, while I pleasantly discovered the power of the written word. Although I drifted out of litigation work (something my father or grandfather may not have wanted for me), I eventually found my place in contracts, documents and anything that involved pushing pen on paper. Maybe I am best read than seen or heard. (Or how I appear can be a distraction from my role as lawyer hahaha) While most of us can talk, not everyone can write. And so my journey into writing continues.  If used properly, it can change lives– such is the power of the pen.

There are only four men in my life: my Dad, my two sons, and Mr. Snuffalufagus.
And I love them all.

My Dad is my (as well as all his clients’) ultimate “go-to” person in times of trouble.
Going to him for direction and enlightenment reminds me of the proverbial trek, in hope for an audience with the Wise One. (Think: Yoda and the Wizard of Oz).
From Dad, one may get the most practical answers
or the most difficult lessons in life.

A situation that usually stands out among family members involves sibling relationships.
In a family of more than one child ( in my case, we are ten children), it is impossible to expect parents to pour out “equal” affection upon all their children.
One may love all his children, but one or some may occupy a softer spot in a parent’s heart.
As children, we assume that the ones who bring home the accolades from school or contests are the ones who are looked upon with favor.
After all, weren’t we disciplined at a young age using the simple concepts of reward and punishment?
As good children, we strive to be pleasing always to our parents’ eyes.

Only a disturbed child would use ill behavior to call attention to himself

But what happens when the balance of favor is tilted towards the more problematic sibling or the not-so-white-sheep (help! I’m trying to be politically correct here) of the family ?

More often than not, we roll our eyes while watching these animals, rather, sheep, being smothered with exaggerated attention and excessive material support. And while the solicitous parent is at it, the good ones are temporarily forgotten, sometimes taken for granted. Sniff-sniff.

In protest, the good child seeks the counsel of the Wise One.
In answer, the Wise One gently reminds the good child of the Parable of the Lost Sheep, where the shepherd who loses one out of the one hundred sheep he has, leaves behind the 99 good ones in order to seek out the one lost sheep. To my mind, more apropos would be the Parable of the Prodigal Son, where the father rejoices and celebrates over the return of the squanderer while temporarily forgetting the faithful and obedient son. (See also the Parable of the Lost Coin).

While we were students, we glossed over lessons which we heard often in school. Most of the time, we simply learned them by rote in order to pass or ace theology exams.

How we now struggle with applying them in our daily lives reminds us of why they are called lessons in the first place:

We may not always like them but we need to learn them

“The challenge of life is to appreciate everything and attach yourself to nothing.”– Andrew Matthews in Follow Your Heart

Relationships are all about connections and attachments. We say we are “attached” when referring to the presence of a significant other. 

Attachments signify value. It can be material or emotional.  You know someone is attached to personal possessions when he or she tends to accumulate useless vintage items for “sentimental” reasons. 

Life, however, is about filling and emptying– winning and losing, holding and leaving, hellos and goodbyes, beginnings and endings.

We lose friends or loved ones, things or cherished possessions.  In every case of attachment, the sense of loss is just as great as the sense of attachment.  

I am a seasoned “loser”, having lost a few times in relationships and in friendships.  I’ve also lost valuable things, particularly a cellphone, and the experience taught me a huge lesson in letting go.  

I lost my cellphone a few years back while on a night out with friends. It happened so fast and in a blink of an eye, I didn’t just lose an expensive item, but also 2 gigabytes of important data that I failed to back up on my laptop.  Depressing since memories are often anchored in images.

On the emotional front, I’m a veteran of broken relationships and friendships. And for me, the pain of breaking up with a best friend is just as unpleasant as parting ways with a boyfriend.

But I learned not to focus too much on my losses.  I turn my attention instead on the aftermath, minding my feelings and working on healing them in order to move on. 

Sure, I cried buckets at every loss but I made it a point to get up as soon as I  dried my tears.  Some people may mistake the relatively quick turnover for being “callous” or “stone-hearted”.  Others presume I move on easily because of “closure”. 

The problem with closure is this: its popular notion presumes that two ex friends or lovers manage to talk things over and say goodbye peacefully.  Not always, I say.  But that doesn’t mean one can never have closure in relationships with bad endings.  I refuse to allow my personal happiness to be dependent on the whims of another, especially that of a bitter one. 

There are ex friends who simply turn cold.  Instead of spending energies figuring out such frenemies, I let them be.   Having found peace in spite of the lack of proper goodbyes, I now know that closure entails self detachment from someone close or something valuable.  While mutuality is essential in  relationship, it can also end unilaterally through unattachment.  Don’t fret for long, though.  Just think:  It was good while it lasted.     Now, on to the next!

From experience, I learned as well that it is best to be unattached at the start of something new.  In that scenario, you savor every moment of the present while understanding that it may one day be lost. Hope for the best, and not expect the best.   

Unattachment, not detachment, also allows space between people– the kind of space that makes living things grow on their own.  In this sense, letting go a little may spell the difference between losing and having.  Just like sand, when you hold on too tightly to a relationship, the more it slips away.

So how do I feel now about my stolen mobile phone? After replacing it immediately with a sleeker and more advanced model, I managed to find joy after its loss. But to the one who got my phone: May a thousand fleas infest your armpits. Ha ha ha.

I was born to write.

As a little child, I had a special attachment to my first yellow and blue Bic ballpoint pen that my Dad gave me.
I used it first to write a short letter to God thanking Him for my new ball pen.
I hid that note behind a huge statue of the Holy Child Jesus that was dressed in white and gold.

When its ink ran out,
I cried so hard that my Dad thought someone had hurt me badly.
He quickly replaced my pen with a new one and I used it again to write a note asking God to please not let my pen go dry on me again.

As I grew older,
I developed a huge ball pen collection of every color imaginable.
I had scented ones that seemed good to eat and glittery inks that made all my classmates envious.
My favorites were the pastel colored slim Sanrio ball pens that I painstakingly saved up for with my grade school allowance.

I had my first gold Cross pen when I was 15 and had several more after that.
But I’m not particularly obsessed with expensive pens– only the ones that write well.
I used to find it hard to leave a bookstore or office supplies shop without buying a few pens—the disposable generic variety.

Some days, I like them in blue and on other days, I prefer to write in black.
Nowadays, a good disposable ball pen is my partner at work just like my yellow pad.
I may not use pens to write letters to God anymore as I communicate directly through prayers, but I use them as instruments for change–inspiring and teaching people how to change their lives in my own little way.