Reading Yourself...

Sunday June 29

They call it the dipping pool.  After a $9.00 sixty-minute Japanese foot massage (that included my legs, arms, and head?), I found myself nearly alone in this pool.  Breathing the familiar sulfur of home.  Feeling the healing caress of warm mineral water.  Melting into the pool.  Laying my head back and feeling giant droplets of warm rain on my face.  Mountain rain in Bacolod is different than mountain rain at home.  It is warm and inviting and drenching.  Interestingly this exotic resort is not overflowing with the rich.  Ordinary folks are there.  Massage is affordable for most.  Our host tells me that most Filipinos indulge in regular manicures and pedicures.

Filipinos are happy, hospitable, caring people.  They seem mentally well.  A sign at a museum explained how their concept of privacy was expressed in architecture with sliding doors on both ends of rooms allowing for a division of space but an openness that allowed the flow of air, sound, and people.  They are a part of each other and yet decidedly themselves.  You are never really alone here.  You also have to search to find a clock.  They are not driven by time but flow event to event looking at each other, greeting each other, touching each other, eating (yes - constantly offering hospitality).

The American in me grows edgy feeling shackled to partners and hosts and schedules.  My co-fellows and I gasp for independent breath at times, but not this weekend.  This weekend we indulged in a much needed rested and enjoyed the Filipino self-care system.  The pace offered peace and space for reflection more on me than on my journey.  I have been folded in upon myself these past 8 months.  I began to unfold the day I got out of the truck and began walking with the dogs instead of watching them walk and this weekend beneath the hands of a sweet young lady masseuse named Johnnie.  My body actually aches with the unfolding - especially my feet, so my resignation at the waterfall was disappointing but honest, so I retreated to the spa to watch my colleagues climb and Johnnie rubbed my feet.  Then I worked my way to the lovely dipping pool that was abandoned and empty in the rain.  I melted and unfolded feeling both at home and so far away.

I am reminded that we are people first and then teachers.  Teaching is hard work!  If we fold into ourselves under the stress, we lose effectiveness.  Self-care matters. I sense a universal melting as I rest in the hot springs - melting of inequalities and hopelessness.  And after the melting, all that is left is our mutual dreams.  Grieving and hoping are universal.

And we also went to what I call "Disneyland" - zip lines, climbable statues of super heros, stars, and animated characters.  A kid for that day!