“You memorize me.”

Three words. But still, hundredfold thoughts keep on mesmerizing me.

Who has ever memorized a person, so deeply and completely, that he knows one’s every motive, deepest desires, and the soul’s innermost thoughts? No one, not even blood-related kins or closest of friends could do that.

But how? How do You do that, God? That even in my highs and lows, You know me? That in the midst of my wonder and praise You listen to me? And even before I say these, You hear me?

How come, my Lord, that You see the unseen in me? How did You know me so fully and incomprehensibly and yet you love me so purely?

Why did You choose to hold me so dear and open Your ears to my voice?

As much as I have these questions, I drown in the answers that seem to elude my frailness and limitations. I am breathing the love that is vast and glorious…the same love that keeps me seeking His glory, that makes my spirit soar and rest in the bliss of His mindfulness and thoughtfulness for me.

His love knows me. He has known me before I came into being. He knows me today, and He knows me tomorrow. “He memorizes me.”

And when I ask why and how… I hear Him say,

“I love you.”

That’s when I know that He does know me with the love that I will never be able to fully memorize.

For it takes eternity to know a love that knows me forever.


Love and Nonexistence

Yesterday, you were shedding tears for them.
Today, you are shedding tears for yourself.
Does love come back
to the one who shares it?

I don’t believe in unrequited love.
It is love or no love at all.
It is never in part or in some quantity.
It is absolute.

If love does not return,
Then it does not exist.
Because love goes around.
It never departs.
It never gets tired.

Now I don’t believe in senseless love.
It has meaning or it is nothing.
It is implacable, purposive, real.
It is not empty.

There is no such thing as loveless.
You are either alive or dead.
And even the dead is loved
And never forgotten.

You see, I still cannot fully grasp it.
It is vast.
It has no measure.
It is endless.

But still, I love.
I am alive.
I exist.
I am infinite.

The Golden Sound

Then there was silence. It’s as if the whole world conspired to just watch… for a fleeting moment. It was a moment of change, a turning point. While the world was busy and unrelenting, I, the rather relentless one, was beginning to enter another opened door that leads to my destiny.

The perpetuity of changes in life is a proof that one is maturing and attaining triumph. Each step that he takes is a big leap of growth and strength. Another vision is being realized, another dream is made come true, and a new path is being laid out. There is nothing more fulfilling than seeing oneself advancing not in years, but in wisdom beyond his years.

True enough, the distance between life-changing moments and the mundane, depthless things is just… a time of silence.

Silence for grieving. For hurting. For encouraging oneself. For hoping. For believing. For falling down. For standing up once again. Silence for hearing the truth. For listening. For understanding. For being a coward. For being brave. For following the light. Silence for love. For seeing the truth all over the face of one’s love. For courageousness. For dreaming. For not giving up. For living… And continuing to overcome.

One can hear a lot more in silence than when there are sounds, or words. It is in quietness that one can hear a heartbeat, a whisper. And there, in the land that was promised, a still, small Voice is calling out… And only in serenity and stillness of the soul that one can hear it.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak… – ‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:1-7‬

A Tribute to my Favorite Storyteller

…Aaaand it hit me. With myself fumbling beneath the veil of shame and guilt, a subtle ray of light struck me. The words of my favorite writer sank into the hollows of my gut, sending me somewhat of an “esteem booster” in the midst of an unlikely place in the metro.

Mr. Paulo Coelho never fails to amaze me. The humble yet empowering wit of this Brazilian man always sends stars on an otherwise clear night sky. He makes the simplest things beautiful; he creates loveliness out of mundanity. He fills dreamless wondering with inspiration. And brings more depth into a slightly shallow and clouded perception.

I wish to see him someday. This might mean that I will travel to Brazil with my man, and if that is the case then let it be! I wish to look into his deep eyes and swim into the wisdom that they contain. I wish to hear right from his mouth the very words that have given me a glimpse of hope, and passion, and inspiration. I wish to have a conversation with him and share with me his secret of living such a marvelous life as a not-so-ordinary-writer.

I wish that soon (hoping it’s sooner), he would know that somewhere thousands of miles away, someone takes delight in the love and faith that he bespeaks.

I might be shooting for the moon, but I am hoping to see you soon, Mr. Coelho. ❤️

Cruel Fate

If only you could see through the eyes of a person,
If only you could hear her silence,
If only you knew her mysteries and revelations,
Then maybe, just maybe, you would understand all the things that were long-concealed.

But I guess, all these deep cries and agony,
All these- and the quiet sorrow
only deserve to be written
and kept hidden
on the slate of misery and forbearance.

Why I Love Dreaming

I have always been dreaming. Before I sleep at night, I anticipate the time when I have no control over anything. There, I would be in different places and scenarios in the past and in the future. I would be with many different people- people whom I’ve known before, people whom I used to know, people who are currently in my life, and people whom I do not know.

I love dreaming. There, I get to be in a different reality that only my soul can experience. I get a glimpse of something that only my future self can see and know. I also come back to the time what my past self used to hear, feel, and love. I love those things.

What makes me wonder and amazed is when my dreams foretell me of life events that are yet to be seen. And they do happen! To my surprise, I am able to see, hear, and know what I am about to witness the next day or the next few weeks. Sometimes dreams also tell me secrets and untold stories of the past. I do not know how this happens but I love whatever I have.

In the midst of everything, I know there is a reason why I dream dreams. I believe dreams have deep meanings, and only time, space, and fate can tell what those are.

Tonight, I am ready for another adventure and mystery. God bless everyone! ☺️

Would Anyone Care to Listen?

Only by listening can you truly gain a deeper understanding.

I will never forget that line. It’s from a life insurance T.V. commercial that I overheard some six years ago. I say, it was perfectly catchy and meaningful. It was so substantial to the point that I had to stop from what I was doing and turn my head to the television.

Days after, I waited for that advertisement to replay. When I watched the whole commercial, I got to love its essence all the more:

Listen to me, even if it is difficult, even if I don’t speak up, even if you disagree, even when you already know the story, whether it’s sad, or late…

I loved how they formulated the essence of their cause and business right off the bat. They got their audiences’ attention, and at the same time were able to insinuate in their minds that, as an insurance company, they do listen to people’s concerns.

We all have something to say. We do because we’re humans, we’re social beings. We have the inclination to convey our inner thoughts and ideas to others. We may have different ways of expressing them, but we all express ourselves either consciously or subconsciously. Some of us stay silent, or want to be just introspective. Some of us communicate verbally, or through actions and body language. Some people demonstrate their convictions through writing. We use our freedom of expression most of the time. However, do we also make use of our privilege to listen to others at least from time to time?

Listening is different from hearing. We may all hear the words a person is saying, but we can also choose to not listen to those words. Listening comes with understanding. How can we effectively communicate to each other when we refuse to comprehend, appreciate, recognize, and realize what the other is conveying to us?

Communication is not a monologue. It is a two-way process wherein both communicators are able to understand and respond to each other.

It is always important that we exercise and improve our listening skills during social interactions. One can only be an excellent conversationalist if he/she knows how to apprehend what his/her fellow discourser is saying. Your interpersonal skills are measured by how you clearly express your ideas while properly interpreting and responding to the person you are talking to.

Sometimes, I get to think why the world is full of chaos, misunderstandings, and wars. Yes, there may be people who are listening and communicating, but either one of them fails to understand and acknowledge the true essence of what the other is saying. Or maybe one of them does understand and acknowledge but fails to accept what is being said.

It is not only understanding that is needed in communication, but also acceptance.

And accepting is different from agreeing. One can accept but disagree. One can also choose to agree but not accept. The difference lies within the right and necessary way of showing this irony.

It is true that not all of us may agree with a given truth. It is also true that not all of us are willing to realize that the world does not adjust for us, but that we are the ones who should adjust to the happenings in the world around us.

The world does not succumb to our own shortcomings, but we should learn how to adapt to the unfairness and injustice in our lives.

We do not know everything, so it is but fitting to also listen to the people around us. Real wisdom does not only mean knowing a precious truth, but it is also about knowing how to apprehend the wisdom of others.

Listening also means respecting. A broad and wise perception is approved and accepted if the person himself knows how to respect other people’s decisions, opinions, beliefs, and convictions. And when one knows how to respect, then he is all the more being listened to.

We should learn how to listen, understand, and accept. If not, we can never taste the goodness and simplicity of life. You see, life is really simple. It is our own pride and ignorance that make it complicated and hard to grasp. If only there was love, understanding, and humility, then the world would be such a beautiful place to live in. If only there was the giving of chance for others to speak up and explain, then the world would be fair and forgiving as well. If only there was understanding and acceptance, then our lives would be simple and worthwhile.

Now, I have said what I wanted and needed to say. Have you listened? I hope anyone has understood.


© CJDP 2016

Credits to: Pru Life U.K. 2010 advertisements


The Day That I Stopped Believing

Today, I stopped hoping.. and waiting for it to happen.

I stopped dreaming and believing.

I stopped loving what I love.

For what I’m hoping for, waiting for, dreaming, believing for, and loving is in vain.

I stopped forcing my own will to pursue it, and instead I let God’s will make it happen.

Until then, I know that what I stopped doing will begin again.. but not anymore in vain.

For it is God’s will at work and it is as sure as His love that is my gain.

Five Reasons Why I Want to Write (and One Reason Why I Don’t)

Writing, for me, is like painting a picture, only that I use a keyboard instead of a brush, and a monitor instead of a canvas on an easel. Most of the time I use my phone too, when I’m outdoors or when I just feel lazy to get up from bed. I get to create a masterpiece, but instead of using colors and imagery, I use words. I can paint an abstract too, if I would please, by using such power held by letters and language.

I am not new to blogging. Well, the oldest post I have here was almost two years ago. Even when I did not have my WordPress account yet, I had been writing my heart out through Facebook notes. But then I thought maybe it would be nicer to create my very first blog account; I felt writing via social media wasn’t enough. And I thought it was time to take my blogging mania to another level.

Because of this, I devised five reasons why I love writing. Adversely, there is but one reason why I don’t. And because five is technically greater than one, I have made it to two years here in WordPress. *claps for myself*

Here are the “love reasons”:

  1. To express. It would be the first and most obvious reason. I heard once that writers write to express, not to impress- and my hats off to that. Everyone wants to express themselves, even once in a while, and I would love to express myself in my whole life! I mean, communication is not so much of a complicated thing to do, only if we know how to communicate well. Personally, I find writing a very therapeutic means of “unloading” myself. And the freedom of expression, for me, means the freedom to live.
  2. To know thyself. Do you know yourself? I know that’s a stupid question to ask. But knowing ourselves means knowing more than just our name and all the other personal things, secrets, and crazy conspiracies that we hide within. Knowing yourself means having the clear idea of your own identity, strengths, assets, flaws, weaknesses, and fears, even at the most critical and compelling situation. Knowing yourself should also tell you what you want in life. It should make a clear path for you to tread on. As for me, I get to know and recognize myself more and more when I write. I discover my irks and quirks, my uniqueness (my weirdness), my desires, dreams, and my ultimate goal. I get a clear reflection of who I am deep inside. I write because I want to see a picture of my life, from a kind of perspective that I am both the observer and the person herself.
  3. To learn. Yes, I gain more knowledge when I write. While I get to know myself deeper, I also learn the things that I would not be able to know should I not explore and express. When I write, I discover things that were unknown to me once. It compels me to read, read, and read. I get a grasp of what other people are thinking and exploring. I welcome other intellectual ideas, artistic ideals, and humane thinking. I drink from the cup of wisdom of the wise, and eat the words of the genius. Because I believe in what I once overheard, “It is only by listening that we truly gain a deeper understanding.” Touché.
  4. To document. Who would not love to sit on a rocking chair, enjoy the warm breeze of the countryside overlooking the serene landscape of the meadows and admire the flying larks, whilst reading the past journals of herself? That, for me, is a lovely reminiscence of my youth, a beautiful remembering of my memoirs when I was young and free. Personally, I would adore to record my own blogs and savor the moment of just flipping through (printed copies) of my written thoughts and musings ages ago.
  5. To make a difference. Final but vital reason. Words have power. Words are doubled-edged swords; they have the power to change another person’s perspective and at the same time the ability to change mine. It’s like hitting two birds with one stone- I get to alter people’s thoughts (even just a bit, so be it), and alter my own viewpoints for the better. I would like to make a change in the world I am living in, and this change can only be possible if I would do something, even in my own little ways. I would like to envision a world that is receptive to transformations and revival, a world that is appreciative of the good things, and a world that is able to perceive more than what they see. A world with depth, substance, and sense.

That was all for the beauty and goodness of blogging. But if there’s beauty then there’s madness. For this, I have the single reason why I would not want to write (counts as my “hate reason”, after all):

Plagiarism. Okay, you may think that’s a sign of paranoia. But it is not! I have heard stories (painful ones) of their works, technically their intellectual properties, being stolen or used without proper citation. And I would never want that to happen to me. I have to admit that I am really, really annoyed at people who have no originality (and even a sense of sensitivity too) and just get the heck of your ideas, and worse, your exact words and personal inklings. I do write to express, yes, but that does not leave out the fact that the world is full of thieves and malevolent people.

Even then, my passion to write surpasses my fears and doubts alike. Writing does have risks, too. Giving away my ideals, thoughts, and lessons learned in life poses judgments, misinterpretations, and misrepresentations. Thus, writing displays courage. A courageous writer is not afraid of what other people might think and say about their written expressions. Their “love reasons” are far more important and sensible than all their “hate reasons”. Writing also serves as my training ground for a higher purpose. I choose to conceal what it is. I believe success only comes when you silently work for it.

Despite this plagiarism danger, I know that in the end, writing could be a rewarding and fulfilling experience. It is like something that has been entwined with me since birth, and I would never want to be apart from that something that is wound around every strand of my being.

Writing is life!

© Camille de Pano, 2016

A Spill of Truth

Okay, so, how am I supposed to feel now? Acting like I don’t have emotions at all, and what gives? Sometimes I don’t know myself, or at least, I don’t hear my voice. Maybe I am oblivious to the truth, the painful truth, that I am supposed to hear. To listen to. To believe in. But what is pain when the truth is flailing right in front of you, to change you, to correct you, to save you from greater pain? What is pain when it can give you new beginnings?

A beginning of peacefulness, calmness, or understanding. A beginning of acceptance and fulfillment. A beginning of the real you. When all you have are wonders and you have more questions than you have answers, when you have more fears and doubts than grasp of reality, when you are thrown into confusion and the serenity of your mind has been clouded with inanity, when you do not know how to listen at all, when you realise the truth that the world is a mystical illusion and that yourself is your realm… Only then you will comprehend that life can only be understood when you truly and fully know your true self. That is the truth, for the truth is written on the slate of your heart.

Maybe, that’s how I was supposed to feel. Surely, that is.