November 30, 2012.

-- Friday; mixed emotions 1 of 2

       “Words that are sharp enough to stab.”

I am disappointed, very disappointed.

I made a note yesterday about knowledge and wisdom, and at the later part of that note I said that our professor’s words struck me most when I badly needed it – during the time when I am in the middle of a mess with my insecurities.

You see, I am not confident. I lack belief in my abilities.

Whenever I receive praises, I would just think that people are only doing what’s duly expected of them and nothing more. Just this week, I found myself more troubled by this insecurity than ever before.

I listened to a friend talk about the university organizations she wants to be in, org projects that pique her interest, and her plan of being a Student Assistant in her college. I kept a straight face, nodding my head and agreeing with her whenever the cue rises, but then she mentioned the one club I too desired to get in.

The Writer’s Org.

With it mentioned, I suddenly felt… sad. No, defeated will be more applicable. I knew I lost the battled before I even started fighting for it. I dreamt of being in the writer’s club ever since I started writing, and that’s about 8 years now. I wished for it more when I got in the university. I talked to another friend about this and she encouraged me to give it a try. I declined, not because I don’t want to, but because I badly want it.

I couldn’t express my sentiments about the irony of that one, but I hope you’d still understand the logic. Do you know the feeling you get when you wanted something very much that you end up in a complete mess when you weren’t granted with it? That’s how I feel about writing.

I love it very much that I sometimes couldn’t handle my shortcomings, let alone have people point it out to me.

I wasn’t like this before; I was once a confident kid. A leader in the making, as my elementary teacher once said. But the confidence I boasted when I was younger wavered as I grew old. I loved exploring about the life, even if it means being in a corner watching everything unfolds, but this was what got me into discovering the harshness that comes with life, too.

I started comparing myself with others, my contentment became short-lived, and my once satiable demands turned insatiable.

Then came writing.

The first time I realized I wanted to write was in fourth grade, Filipino class. We were asked to construct an essay about the things we usually love doing. I wrote about my reading quirks. I wrote my heart’s content, even stopping for a few seconds to chuckle at the recollections of my reading moments. I wrote without thinking about the grade I might get for sounding too… playful with my chosen words. I enjoyed writing it, but hadn’t expected that the feeling will linger.

When I discovered the mobility writing gives, I started engaging myself in it more.

Going back to my issue, I found myself browsing inspirational pictures in my laptop the night the writer’s club topic was brought up. That same night before going to sleep, I pondered about it and decided to give it a try.

—but

And do you know what happened? What deliriously happened?

I saw a flyer in a building two days after that, and I found out that I missed the sleek orientation by one day.

One day.

I smirked disdainfully as I continued to linger my stare on that piece of paper. I swear I was mocked; the date was even printed very large as if to discourage me more.

Incidentally, their theme applied to me that day. And the irony boggled me.

Words that are sharp enough to stab.

I still couldn’t help but smirk at the irony. I was stabbed, alright.

I will end this post on a lighter note. Truth be told, I realized God was behind it. It was His way of subtly opening my eyes to the reality that chances should be seized. A newborn baby will never walk without his parents’ encouraging nudge, a painter will never find inspiration if he won’t get out of his way and look for it.

We will never flourish unless we do stand up for something. God will always be there, but He is there to guide us, the larger chunk still matters to what we do.

I felt the ‘nudge’ and was even slapped by reality. I might’ve felt bad, but I know one thing for sure,

I learned.

And I determined precisely some of the attitudes I should let go; I'd start with my hesitations.

--you should, too.

God, nudge everyone.

Achailee