It strikes unexpectedly.
Just when things seem to be falling in line.
You get an itch.
To disappear.
What do I mean?
Read on.
This photo of me at Singapore's Henderson Waves from 2015 is quite telling. Wanting to vanish can be a headache. Wanting to vanish is difficult to manage. Life gives you a prescribed list of responsibilities. You want to vanish not necessarily to escape responsibility. Rather, you want to vanish because you get annoyed with permanence. You get irritated with being in one place for too long. You long for feelings and sensations- not necessarily for material gains.
Yesterday, I found myself looking through some old photos from my time in the United Kingdom. I couldn't help but wax sentimental. I spent part of December 2017 in the Lake District in Northern England. Boy, was that an experience. Tours through hills, through remote villages, and idyllic landscapes. Quite a way to cap of my year.
Today, I find myself in Manila- a concrete jungle, your typical "big city". I have much to be thankful for, but there are times when I imagine the sight of billowing smoke clouds forming above chimneys of old stone houses situated in the English countryside. I remember the silence- oh the wonderful silence. I remember meeting random people along the way (in the case of my Lake District tryst, I also recall meeting a few random farm animals along the way).
People tend to long for things we can't immediately have.
I know I'm part of that demographic.
During a recent trip to Singapore, I found myself- you guessed it- waxing sentimental. To me, Singapore had become a safe haven, a ultra-modern, ultra-organized, gastronomic cornucopia bursting with rich flavors. I would catch myself saying things like, "the last time I was here was in (insert date)...and this place used to look really different from how it looks like today". Reminiscing has always been my thing. Maybe I'm less of a romantic now- but still somewhat of a sentimentalist nonetheless. It's always fun to see "love" in a plate of Char Kway Teow, and "passion" in a serving of carrot cake.
So yeah, 2018's about to end, and I'm in Manila- but I have much to be thankful about. I still find myself with an insatiable desire to disappear, but, having some form of permanence can be good, too. Having a home, having shoulders to cry on, having a family you can bank on.
Once in a while, though, it would be nice to snap my fingers and to boldly go to places where I have never been before, or at least, haven't been to much recently.
Having a sense of permanence assures you of the fact that you can have somewhere, or someone, to return to once your adventure's done.
MC
