Disclaimer: This write-up was originally published in my personal social media pages. I apologize ahead if this is not allowed in the Web3 and Hive platform. All the media and content in this post is original.
I start my day at 3:00 AM.
I made a promise to myself to put Scripture first this time over Social Media. So far I haven't slipped since the 1st of January.
Then I write.
Whether it be letters, prayers, dreams, desires, or hopes.
Sometimes I add in little scribbles.
Addressed to people,
or to another version of myself in the future or in the past,
or to the One who sees.
I write it all down, ponder on certain lines, and say grace.
Then I work. For a good 2 hours until I start hearing the birds sing.
Then I go outside to watch the sunrise, and maybe sweat for a good 30 minutes or so. If not, I do pull-ups in my room.
Sometimes I greet the elderly a good morning, and buy bibinka for my family's painitan before returning to the house to prepare for work (my main job this time) 😂.
Mano pô.
Take a seat.
Enjoy the sikwate or tea.
Finish your puto.
It has always been like this since the start of 2023. Kailangan eh (It is needed).
I get 4-6 hours of sleep a day, 7 or 8 on the weekends.
I pay for my family's Netflix but don't use it anymore. The little free time I have left in a span of 24 hours is allocated for chores, sleep, and exercise. It's amazing that I still have time to squeeze in one-on-one catch-up sessions with close friends these days, or take detours on the way home to watch scenic sunsets over the horizon (especially when I need the extra peace from having a bad day).
The word for March is the word ENDURE.
Some days are stressful.
Some days are more hopeful than most.
Some days are quiet, but reflective.
These are the cards I am dealt with, but I know for some readers here, you probably have had it much worse. Kudos to you.
With a heart that scares so easily like mine, I find it miraculous my episodes haven't reached the point of sending me to the ER (not a good joke lol).
Maybe it's the Bible verses I pasted on the walls of my room, of my heart, of my thoughts,
Or the worship music,
Or the new words I choose to live by,
Or to whom I place my worth in now.
Maybe it's the prayers I utter in the morning,
Or those that I whisper at night,
Or those that come from my friends,
Or those my mom has for me in my sleep.
Such little things don't seem little when they are my source of endurance.
And when people think of the word, they'd picture resisting to break or bend.
But in my case I'm learning the opposite:
To welcome the breaking.
To welcome the molding.
Even if it means having to do it again, and again, and again.
The same way I'm learning to welcome uncertainty.
The same way I'm unlearning "perfection".
The same way I'm learning to wait.
The same way I'm learning to rest.
The same way I'm relearning how to trust.
So this month,
I'll stay with my worship songs,
My messy write-ups,
My pages and pages of taciturn prayers,
Christian rap music,
Meaningful conversations,
And anything in between that gives me hope to hold fast for another day.
Because this life is relentless,
and we don't just live for ourselves.
Wipe that sweat off your glasses,
And put on your baseball cap,
Roxanne Marie.
He isn't giving up on you,
so don't you dare give up on yourself.
The story: The word Endure was put to the test right away considering that by the time I had this write-up published, I was in the middle of a hurricane in terms of responsibilities at school, my part-time writing deliverables, lack of sleep, and going through really strong waves of personal issues.
The first week of March was the final week of finalizing the students' report cards. Earlier that day, I woke up with the same wakeup time at 3 am, printing report cards and the summative exam sheets that I had to distribute, all with the mess and conundrum that was already in my head. I was honestly already thinking of throwing in the towel. That day ended wth me on a Friday night, with the news that I had to re-print everything again because of a fluke on the encoding.
So I dropped everything that night, and got myself a haircut. I also called up a friend (because well, I just really needed to hold someone's hand while I am trying to make sense of everything). A crying session later, and me poking around the dinner my friend got for me because I didn't have any apetite, I started realizing that maybe I am being taught a facet of the word 'Endure'. And that is:
One, I am not supposed to endure everything all at once, but if it can't be helped,
Two, I can endure better if I have a support system with me. And this last part reestablished my human need to be connected to community especially at times like these when going through a lot.
ABOUT THE PROTEAN CREATOR
Roxanne Marie is a twenty-year-old something who calls herself the Protean Creator.
She is a chemical engineer by profession, pole-dancer and blogger by passion and frustration, and lastly, a life enthusiast. She loves open discourse, witty musings, discussions about abstract and tangible ideas, and any opportunity where she can insert memes into the conversation.
She is on a mission to rediscover her truth through the messy iterative process of learning, relearning and unlearning, and openly discusses the ideas and thoughts that are born from her experiences here on Hive.
Currently, she works as a science and research instructor for senior high school students and as a freelancing content writer in her hometown, Tagbilaran City, all the while documenting her misadventures, misfortunes, pagka-hugotera, reflections and shenanigans as a working-class millennial.
If you like her content, don't forget to upvote and leave a comment to show some love. It would be an honor to have this post reblogged as well. Also, don't forget to follow her to be updated with her latest posts, and catch her next intellectual (and most of the time, untethered) rants.