Disclaimer: This write-up is lifted from the poem of Kait Rokowski “A Good Day”.
The past four days I’ve attended a conference,
got lost with statistics, but I met new people,
talked with the “big” names in the academe,
and sat with a pretty lady who finds my voice “conversant” in English (I was blushing when she said this).
Last night, I was looking for a dress to wear,
got frustrated so I pulled all my clothes out,
had a hard time choosing between black and brown,
I ended choosing the brown one.
And I learned a new way of wearing a scarf “kimono style”.
Today, I woke up late at around 9,
forgot to drink water after waking up,
I just lazed around, slept some more and read a book.
Got up to dress myself up,
I felt pretty.
I didn’t forget to buy my sister a paper lace for her cake,
went to the bank to withdraw,
walked down the street with my chin up and back straight,
rode a tryke and a bus and motorcycle.
I went to Pili to host an event,
looked for my mother (she was gorgeous in her dress).
She was delighted when she saw me finally there.
I showed up.
I didn’t do it for the church (maybe a little) but for my mother,
I hope I am being a good Christian for loving my mother more.
I was surprised seeing familiar faces,
old women I was with in our church,
it pains me seeing they’re all with grey hairs and wrinkled hands.
I hope to grow old with grace too just like them.
Old ladies kept on hugging me and kissing my cheek,
I felt smothered but I let them,
felt good seeing people seeing me again.
I went home,
rode again a bus,
bought food because I forgot to eat the whole day.
Adrenaline pumping made me survived the day.
I ate, felt full and tired,
called my sister to check whether mother and my nieces arrived safely (they did).
I fell asleep,
and when I woke up I was surprised with the quiet.
I can only hear the tapping of my keyboard, the swirling of the fan and my heartbeat.
The quiet feels good.
I talked to my boyfriend already and apologized for being silly,
I’m lucky to have him.
I would be scared if I lose him just because of pride and because I’m petty.
He virtually hugged me.
Today was a good day.
I showed up, and didn’t disappoint my mother,
went outside and run errands.
I boarded public transpo,
and now I’m writing again.
For a long time, I was plagued with anxiety,
I was constantly on edge and felt breaking,
I wasn’t able to do these simple things.
People thought I am lazy (maybe I am), or anti-social, or no fun,
but actually I was hiding.
Hiding because sometimes the fear seems so big and I can’t breathe.
But today, I did this little things.
Things, maybe for you sounds mundane and banal,
but for me they meant a lot.
I did something for my self today.
I’m proud of myself.
Bet my therapist will be proud of me too.
Ah, today was a good day.