Latin Mass

Almost all Sundays blow me away. But today, it threw me a hundred miles farther.

When I was invited to attend the Latin Mass, I did not really give it so much thinking. I got excited, it would be a first time. One of my siblings conjured an idea of us veiling for the extraordinary event. We had been planning to use a veil in one of the Sunday Masses, and she decided to materialize it today. It was later affirmed when one of my brothers gave me the sacred item yesterday.

Expectations are amazingly met a hundred fold when one does not have any at all. We entered the Chapel; I could feel its profound reverence. I genuflected and was enveloped by the mysterious sanctity of the ambience. For a moment I was transported into medieval times, in Rome. I covered myself in veil.

The priest started the procession. The choir, four of them, stationed themselves in the four corners of the first two rows, two on each side. They started to chant, the priest started to utter Latin phrases, I got lost in the readings and decided not to be distracted by the misalet. I focused on the beautiful re-enactment of God's infinite love transpiring before my unworthy self. The altar boys, graced with the knowledge as to the system of the foreign Mass, the two nuns whose presence was as graceful as the angels, the congregation, so decent, succumbed to the transfiguration everyone was privileged to witness. The whole ensemble was in religious unison, all hearts spouting the same praises to magnify the presence and the goodness of the Lord, and to be able to take part in this beautiful harmony filled up my chest. I exploded into tears. To say that it was amazing is such an understatement.

The Catholic Church, with its abundantly well-preserved tradition, is able to translate all of God's profuse gifts through the Latin Mass. The homily by the other priest enhanced the feeling. Ninety percent of the mass was in Latin, the system was one I have never encountered before. But I was not an island. I was lost, but was assisted. Everyone was partaking in small ways, accepting wholeheartedly the transformation of the bread and wine into the Body and Blood, and thus attesting. Faith overflowed today.

A fellowship punctuated the event. It scattered outside the chapel; picture takings here and there, eating light food, socializing, establishing new friendship. The sun was high, the birds were hovering the area, and God surely engulfed us with His presence. It was a magnificent celebration.

God moves us in different ways. I was moved in Latin. I will go to the normal mass next Sunday, singing to the notes my lips are attuned to. But the acclamation I participated in today will be preserved in the dwellings of my most treasured memories. 'Live a Eucharistic life', the priest mentioned in his homily. 'God is always with us. Always, always with us.' I agree. I felt Him today. I sense His presence. He never leaves.

Thanks

I guess you could call it being in my comfort zone. I was slacking, I have recognized the signs. My everyday has been a routine, and this fact has changed the way I viewed the professional world and how to tackle it. A wake up call is needed.

I did not want to serve him, I find him unpleasant. His physical attributes annoy me; his ways exasperate me. But this guy turned out to be an angel in disguise, the slap I need to rewire me. He became the instrument of my redemption.

He met me two years ago, he said. I was all smiles, creating small talks. He said my novice status, which gave me the uncertainty of expectations, made me acknowledge everyone with no inhibitions. I was just smiling. And I lost it now.

The everyday struggles, the diversity of faces but similarities of cases toughened my spirit. I was not aware it changed my aura too. My mingling has lost its personal touch, the distinctive trait I was so proud of in the beginning. I reorganized my thoughts, singled out events and people, and the next morning, I treated them without prejudices regardless of their frequency in my work place. Like I did when I was on probation.

It may be a challenging journey again for sincerity to sink in, but the simplest smile is my ammunition. I lost the meaning in what I do, but I'm regaining the impact of my service to other people. It is not the material things that make us happy, but the number of lives we touched. I am touching lives again. Thanks to that man.

Kung Fu Panda

In all honesty, I was reluctant to see Kung Fu Panda. I did not see the first; I almost did by mistake which my friend and I immediately amended. The cinema girl erroneously gave us the wrong tickets (we wanted to see Narnia) which we realized only when we were inside the cinema hall. Upon knowing we were in the wrong movie (Kung Fu Panda), we immediately walked out and asked for refund. We kind of abhorred it since then.

So the second came. I was receiving positive feedbacks from its loyal subjects, which I half-heartedly believed because of the biases it may contain. My disposition took a 360 degree turn when a friend told me about how she dragged her husband to the cinema, how he loathed seeing cartoon, but was laughing his heart out from beginning to the end of it. He was converted! So I gave it a chance.

And I was not failed. The plot, the action scenes, the lines, they are like different vegetables mixed together in perfect timing and blending. It's like an orchestra in blissful harmony. I never stopped laughing! The imagination behind the whole movie was so rich it just spews life and flourishes. I almost forgot it's cartoon.

All the movie needs is an open mind to be able to fully grasp its content. I guess the only hindrance to its widely acceptance is the fact that it's cartoon. Most of us are so attached to the real world that we neglect the surrealism of situations. Fables are best represented in cartoon, otherwise they'll lose their authenticity. The movie is a nostalgia. The child in me burst out laughing, shed a tear, amused by the copycat colors the most advance technology can visually offer. I found myself rewinding back to my salad days. And guess what I chanced upon - Inner peace. :)

Atonement

If I were a doctor and have to prescribe an effective way of overcoming depression, it would be this: let go.

I had read somewhere that the mind is compared to a child picking up pebbles on the sea shore. No one knows exactly which ones he picks up and keeps, and which ones he throws back to the sea.

The ironic part is that the things I'd rather forget are the ones that linger in my memory. They continue to haunt me in my most vulnerable state, in my darkest moments. It felt like masochism.

But yesterday was a rebirth. I heaved my broken self. The person I was speaking with awaited patiently for my mouth to open. But the mere thought of vocalizing my most inner self is enough to crouch my words. Tears flowed down. I began to count. Mustering all the courage, I began to create a sound in language form. He listened. He nodded in agreement. I enumerated. I let go.

Drops of water continued to wet my face. When I finished, he uttered the statement he prepared I guess. The most wonderful part of peeling my skin off is that in his presence, I sensed no prejudice. Not a trace of judgment was apparent on his humble face. He harked like it was the solution to everything. He smiled. Then he forgave. His license to forgive is my passport to self-acceptance.

I grabbed two more tissue papers, stood up, and as I turned the knob to leave his office, I felt my old self detaching. I have been renewed. The deepest, unspoken part of me has been revealed, and the new me steps out of the office unscathed. Letting go is a beautiful thing. It prepares one to collect oneself and be whole again.

When Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon, it was a glorious leap for mankind. My stepping on his office is a liberating leap on a new world for me. A world surrounded by divine love. A world of replenished soul. It is an exultant step for a new beginning. And, yeah, I'm gonna wave my flag proudly and plant it confidently. Because I came, I saw, I surrendered, and I conquered myself, all at the same time. And I've been triumphant.