The Freedom to Give Up

Note: Yesterday, I got inked by my very talented childhood friend from waaaaaay back then at Octopushink Tattoo Studio and got asked by a lot of people (even the legendary tattoo artist himself, Tatay Nero) what my tatt means to me. Thus, I came up with this entry. :)

Next to passion, freedom is my favorite word. I guess that's because if there is something constant in my life, it's my search for freedom.

ελευθερία (eleptheria) is the "name" of my new tattoo.
After several years of thinking and rethinking of the 
perfect design, my Eleptheria was born.

While I was still studying, I yearned for the freedom to make my own choices because, as a very good friend (not so kindly) pointed out, I had very limited choices back then. I felt shackled because I thought that I was held prisoner by my age and lack of job experience. I wanted to start earning my own money way before I turned 18. However, I had very limited imagination back then so I ended up waiting for our theater company's next show and/or the next surprising moment my guardians would hand me my allowance. When I started working, I craved freedom from all the added responsibilities I inherited from my "very responsible" parents. I wanted to feel young and wild, and happy-go-lucky, like most of my friends. But I knew (and still know) that I can only be like them to a certain extent. I did not really deny myself the luxury of spending my money for personal stuff, yes, but I have always thought of how it felt like to have fun without thinking of the bills one has to pay at the end of the month.

A few years have passed since then. Now, I long for the freedom to discover who I really am and who I want to be without compromising any of the duties I need and want to do. At last, I have realized that I am left with no choice but to accept the fact that I am responsible for the most unlikely things. To some, this might sound like the complete opposite of what I have yearned for during my younger years (from limited to no choices, from wanting to be free from my duties to embracing them) and maybe it is. It's pleasantly surprising to know that I have reconciled to this piece of truth and I feel...okay. Perhaps a bit resigned, but peacefully so. 

Yes, I am proud to say that I am slowly, finally stopping the search for the freedom I want. Instead, I am branding my own freedom. I am giving up.

I am giving up on controlling things that are beyond me and my power. As cliche as this sounds, life is filled with circumstances we cannot avoid. There are moments that we think we have it covered...and then everything spirals downward. We exert so much effort to patch things up that we tend to forget two things: 1. things like these are not our fault and 2. they're not meant to be fixed. Because of this, we end up taking for granted the things we can fix, the things we can do something about, and then you realize that, when they said that life is about the decisions you make, they were talking about you deciding on the ones you fix, the one you keep, the one you exert effort on. I think about the serenity prayer and I believe I'm right on track: I have given up the search for freedom for the search of serenity, courage and wisdom.

I am giving up on seeking the truth from others. Face it, people lie. I lie. I even lie to myself. How can you look for something in others that you cannot find in yourself? Honestly (harhar), I think this looking-for-the-truth thing I had going for months tops my list of not-so-smart moves in life. It's not a matter of trusting people but of being smart enough to know that, sometimes, people can be cruel and not really care about you. On the other hand, this is also a matter of believing that the people that you trust and love won't lie to you just to hurt you. And that you should do the same.

I am giving up on things that are not even mine in the first place. Sometimes, fate lends us small doses of inspiration that can help make the toils and crosses we bear lighter even just for a while: conversations that only the two of you can hear, an umbrella shared under the rain, jokes only you two can understand, a seemingly loving glimmer of admiration in his eyes. Yet, inasmuch as you'd like to keep this treasure to yourself, it feels a bit off. It's like using somebody's very expensive mobile phone for a long time: you feel good and confident, knowing that you have something so valuable in your hands, but you can't help but feel awkward, too, because you know that the phone's not yours to keep, no matter how good it makes you feel. They say you can't let go of something you don't have. That's true. But aren't you tired of rationalizing, telling yourself reasons why you should still wait and pine and sigh and sob and wallow in the pain you want and don't want at the same time? Acknowledge that there is something you have to let go of: the part of yourself who is foolishly holding on. Stand up, accept the truth and make the most of your life from this point on.

It's funny how, once it starts, all things fall into their proper places. I have never thought that, by solving your biggest issue in life (yes, that one about you, not the one about your family or your friends or your love life or work or money), you end up fixing everything. Right now, my life feels like a domino: one problem down after the other. And all I had to do is to give up the freedom I have sought but could never have for things that I have always had and ignored. :)

***

P.S. Pictures from the tatt session:








From the stencil on my skin (lower left) to the finished product (upper left and right) :)

With my childhood friend and ultimate tattoo idol, the jinxed cupcake (eh?), Regine. :D
(I can't believe I still got to smile like that after the session, though. Hahaha!)

Isn't it peculiar

Isn't it quite peculiar how you can remember other people's faces but not their names?
How you recognize that glint in his eye and that crooked smile on his face
but not how you once uttered his name
and asked him questions that caught your interest sometime ago?

Isn't it peculiar how sometimes it's the other way around?
How you vaguely remember hearing this unlikely confidant spill his deepest darkest secrets
but not how tears spilled from his sad, sad eyes
and trickled down from his cheek to yours?

Peculiar, isn't it, how there are moments that you'd rather forget but you can't.
How you want to bear in mind and never forget the lesson you just had to learn the hard way
but not how you felt while you threw wisdom and control out of the window, stayed in his arms,
moaned, gave, received, laughed, cried
and shook yourself to the core?

Peculiar, isn't it, how there are things that are done even before they have begun.
How you find yourself tearing down that jack-in-the-box you created with your impulsive foolishness
but not rebuilding the fort you have painstakingly erected
put up, took care of, sacrificed for, created, polished
and perfected that even you can't stand its perfection?

Peculiar how you want one thing and need another.
Peculiar how a seed so little and ignored can grow so strong.
Peculiar how it can be so alive!

Isn't it?