Reading for Self-Discovery

(In which a turn of a page is a step closer to me.)

***

I just knew I found a good hobby when people started sending me text messages without the usual questions of what I am doing at the moment. Instead, they are armed with a good guess – I am reading. And my thoughts were just confirmed when my father eyed my secondhand books with wonder. He must have been thinking of how much I’ve been spending for those things that only made my tiny box of a room more crowded and added another layer of blackness to my already dark eye bags. Nevertheless, I just knew I am doing things right.

I have loved books ever since preschool. Running my fingers over the smooth cover of a good-smelling new book brought happiness beyond description. And finishing a book feels like gaining a new friend. However, most of the new books I was able to lay hands on are the ones given free in school. No matter how much my parents took delight in seeing me read, they hardly had enough cash to purchase children’s books so I had to settle with really old books with yellowish pages that were so crisp they might be torn when I flip them. Sometimes, there were torn or missing pages and I had to guess the words or invent my own ending for the story. I never consider them bitter experiences though. I wouldn’t have appreciated reading the way I do now if I could easily get the books I wanted by just pointing to them at the counter.

I started purchasing books about a couple of years after graduation and it felt great. Not only because I worked for it but also because I do not have any deadlines to meet and penalty to pay after returning it to the library late. After a book, I got another one. Then another. I do not care if it’s a bestseller or it’s crappy or brand new or secondhand. I just do whatever will assuage my thirst for reading as if I’m making up for the years I missed because of poverty. I do not mind if my sister thinks I have too much books on the shelf or my father thinks it’s a waste of time and money. I just knew that by reading, the childish happiness I felt so long ago was relived. And I find a part of me waking up after each novel; there’s an insatiable urge to read more after every story. There is a call for further understanding of literature. And a stronger desire to share what I learn through writing. Reading for me has become a regular journey through time and space and a thoughtful walk along the hidden alleys of my inner self. Perhaps it may lead to something closer to finding what I’ve been searching or just another search. But I knew I just have to keep on travelling.

***

There Is No Frigate Like a Book
Emily Dickinson

There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears a Human soul.

Equivalent Trade Gone Wrong

(In which curiosity kills the cat.)

***

Fine. If there is a collegiate subject called Flirting 101 I will never pass it. I don’t need anyone to tell me I am stupid. I have posted that in some of my other blogs and journals to spare you of the trouble. Right. And I am. I really am!

Remember Alvin? We have agreed to trade secrets for today. And I took the risk of going first. I told him that my opinions about him were posted in this blog and he responded this way: “I am thinking… of the blog.” to which his previous statement was “Am I one of the things you think about?” Yes, people. I just gave myself away.

You have to agree with me that that is not a secret. It’s just like saying “I’m sorry to hear that” after learning about someone’s cat’s death! We have agreed to trade secrets that are of the same weight. Equivalent trade eh? But he didn’t abide by the agreement. And then he demurred by saying “I’m about to open up. But it’s time to go. It takes time to open up, you know?” For all I know, this kind of statements were made by teachers like me in a manner in which we desperately try to sound sad when telling our students that we have to leave when in fact we’re so relieved.

Okay. It’s my fault. I’m so obvious. Desperately obvious. And stupid too. I used to tell my virtual confidante, distance is still my friend. Now I don’t know if that distance will ever be made closer. Well, this is what I get when expectations and reality collide.

End of this crap – it must be – literally and figuratively!

Explanations

(In which I attempt to justify this blog’s title through this post.)

***

I know that it is quite strange to explain the chosen title for this blog after posting more than seventy articles. However, I just so happen to recently understand how long I might be keeping the title. You know what I mean, I hope. Searching for your place in the world or even searching for your real self – as well as all that composes you is like looking for the proverbial "needle in a haystack".

We all are searchers of different things and places and faces. And I am on my own venture for the search of happiness. I may sometimes mistake happiness from momentary gladness. But in the end I know that I am searching for that happiness which is long-lasting. And no. I am not looking for a knight in shining armor for I am not a lady in distress and this is not a happy-ever-after type of story. But I do hope this is not tragic anyway.

***

I told Alvin he wouldn’t find out if I blogged about him. But after sending a file to a common friend bearing the url of this site I felt reluctant to write but sensed that not everybody are concerned about reading my posts anyway – aside from the very few constant readers who I really treasure. So now I am.

I thought my search will be old-fashioned till I met this guy. I love technology. The best part is the chase and the mind reading game which I am never good at. No I am not chasing him. You wouldn’t want to know how I chase. But after a month or so of constant correspondence, I learned how to react to double edged jokes, or statements– the kind that both intended to make your heart pound like crazy and make you demur. And I learned that the best response is to mimic. Now the problem is that we women – ok, I, am so susceptible to falling regardless of proximity. Now I don’t know if I should still love or begin to hate good conversations.

But thanks to good-natured people, I am now starting to be enlightened and aware. Who knows whether my romantic search is going to end gradually or abruptly, or is just starting to take good turns? And yes, I still have an intellectual search and all those search stuff. One step at a time? Sure. I am in no rush. But the problem with me is I can hardly define and recognize what a waste of time is once a potential crap is beautifully packaged and has this beautiful ability to make me feel good and think otherwise. So help me God.

So why The Seeker?