Not as clear as Coke Clear

June 30th
Saturday
Kasama-shi, Ibaraki

This drink seems to have some existentialist's crisis. For all I know, Coke is supposed to have that dark, inviting color. After taking a few gulps, I gave up. It just didn't taste right. So it's been a few weeks since it's in my fridge, having no idea when will I have the courage to drink it again.

But this post is not about this coke's new version. It's about the crisis I found in it. I don't know what to make of it because it's clear and coke is not supposed to be clear. Just like my life right now. I don't know what to make of it.

I grew up knowing only two professions in this world-- a teacher and a policeman. Of course, they are my parents' and I grew up looking up to them. Life I thought was the kind of life I grew up with. Well, I haven't really figured it out until I was twenty-ish. Just like everyone else back home, I figured that a perfect and an easy life would be finishing college, finding a job in the government, building a family, growing old, and die. Plain. Simple. Happy. Well, that's what I at least see for some of my peers back home. Not that they have made it to the die stage, but looking at their photos in Facebook, the stability of their life seems to suggest that their life has been so predetermined just like death.

But then again, this post is not about death. In fact, it's about the opposite of it. It's about life and how I feel and view it at the moment. Have I figured my life already? No, definitely not yet. The truth is, I have been having existential dilemma since I stood on my thirty-ish. It's funny, isn't it? After existing for three decades on this planet, I haven't really figured my life yet. While for some, they already see themselves where they are going-- raising their kids, growing old with their partners, retiring from their job, and so on. As for me, I am lucky to have a wonderful husband I can tolerate growing old with, but the rest is just impeccably uncertain. Why impeccably-- because I see beauty in it. There is beauty in the uncertain, in the unknown. There is excitement and there is always something to look forward to. But it's scary.

I am scared. My life is no ordinary. Well, maybe because as a kid, I always had extraordinary dreams. Maybe, I am really destined for extraordinary adventures. Or, maybe. Just a maybe.

At thirty, I gave up my job at the government. It was supposed to lead me to the life I always thought would be. Stability, security, but boring. After coming back home from a 2-year life in New Zealand, there was just this desire in my heart to live in a different country once more. So I embarked living in Japan. Lo and behold! I arrived in Japan even before I was even mentally and physically ready for it. I was hoping to live here with Raymond and start building our family here. It would have been so easy as a slice of cake. Until I started to re-evaluate the things that truly mattered.

Since I left home to study at a University in Bicol, my life as a gypsy started. I was only 16 then. I was a soleful wanderer. My life was a series of moving out and moving in. I have lived in too many cities that I actually have lost count of them. From Bicol, to Cavite, to Pasig, to Mandaluyong, to Makati, to Laguna, to Cebu, to Baguio, and so on. My head literally aches trying to count each of them. Those were not even brief stays, well, the shortest I guess was in Laguna, I lived there for a month.

I remember one job interview I had with an old woman, after scanning through my resume, the first thing that came out her mouth was: "You're like a rolling stone." And to me it translated as, I am everywhere. I was confused. She made it sound like it was a bad thing but I thought it was otherwise. I thought it was liberating to be everywhere.

And it is. In every place I have lived in, a part of myself is ripped off me. Each of these places have changed me. And all these places count to who I am now. I have mastered the art of moving in and moving out into a place, and sadly, into one's life as well. The art of letting go for me is just a piece of cake. But this art is also expensive. It had to cost me my community, my friends, and my family.

And now that I am thirty, a few months to go before I turn into my first year of this decade, a question has been haunting me. A question concerning my existence. Do I want to keep the tides of life take me to many different shores until my bones weaken, until I get tired? Or is it about time to finally dock my ship into an island and start planting my roots there? The daunting truth is, I can't forever have the needed strength to sail ashore. I don't even know if there is still part of me that can be ripped off. I don't even know if there is still something left in me that I can share.

I am everywhere and thinking about it is exhalarating. I am blessed to have the chance to fill the desires of my insatiable soul. I have spent half of my life discovering new horizons. I have thousands of stories to tell. I have countless adventures I can always marvel on. I know that deep inside me, there is always this extraordinary dreamer. I don't have any plans to extinguish it at all. Not yet. A few more years, maybe? Until, I'm ready to say: I can finally stay. 😊

Now, it's clear. But not as clear as Coke Clear.