I was told it was sad. I was advised not to be. There’s a disgraceful stereotyping about it. Before it could even be hindered, I was on my way to Sagada. I wrote a short love letter to the place two years ago:
Sagada’s seemingly endless curves lead to somewhere special, for sure.
I learned that life brings persistent encounters of learning, in all astonishing forms, in varying aspects. We must see each moment as such. Opportunities abound. I learned that boxes are futile containers. Humans are more than their flesh and bones. Even longtime friends surprise you. More so, the recent ones. The process of unraveling is inevitable. I learned the figurative existence of parallels and perpendiculars in the paths we take. Out of those, we can create intersections. I learned how silences are not to be taken for granted. They carry more meaning than we suspect them to have. We should be grateful for the wisdom its subtlety provides. I learned to be more aware of the beatings of hearts other than mine. I learned to show my race of thoughts to people who share their own race of thoughts too. It is one way to be truer and happier. I learned to desire and eventually decide on braver steps. It is another way to be truer and happier. (November, 2013)
It was one of the most revealing and memorable of my travels. It was sincerely heaps of fun, especially when I came with my two closest friends and also a dear mate we met from our trip in South Korea. But right now, I’m not going back to experience fun. I wanted peace and joy for Christmas, and I wanted it liberatingly alone.