We’re nearing the end of the year, and I’m surprised at how quickly 2015 rolled by. I was looking through my files and found this set of photos from Nagsasa Cove. I travelled with my friend, Mary, in the middle of the year, back when we were both dealing with/running away from heartbreak. I’m not sure why I didn’t post them on the blog, but I did write an article for Aquazorb that you can read here. An excerpt:
The night is especially entrancing. Never mind the noise of nearby tents, of too-bright campfires with their rowdy team-building groups; as I’ve learned, there are few places in the world that you can have all to yourself. “Silence is a luxury,” one author quipped. But rarely do you get to lay underneath an immense blue-black sky dusted with infinite lights. It inspires a stillness from within, the twinkling lights comforting in their silent existence, illuminating your own and filling you up with a burning. A burning for what exactly? Different things for different people. For me, the perennial romantic, it would have to be love.
How weird it is to find these little pieces of me floating around. It’s a nice kind of weird, of course. I know it was just a few months ago, but I was such a different person then. I was struggling, often doubtful of where I was headed and of who I was becoming. But I learned to grow from the pain, to move forward, to find something that propels me in the right direction.
I still face a lot of doubts and anxieties, but when I’m in the middle of a horrible breakdown, I pause and take a look at all the things I’ve experienced, at the people who have been there for me, at all the things God has given me. And sometimes, that’s enough to calm me down.