Bring It On, Universe

It's time for a new beginning.

How original, right? New year, new beginning. But really, it is.

In past years, I would tell myself: My life is going way too smoothly—great job, great relationship, happy family, good health. So smoothly, in fact, that something big and bad is bound to happen. And I hope to God that when it does happen, I’ll be strong enough to take it.

And in 2010, it did happen. Right on the cusp of 2010—on December 30, 2009, and in Boracay of all places—my twelve-and-a-half-year relationship ended. And 2010 was all about getting out of that relationship. All things considered, it was as amicable as it could have been—but by no means painless, on either side. It took a few months to physically separate; more months to work out the finances of the condo we had bought together; still more months to segregate and evacuate his stuff; and for pretty much the whole year, I was waiting a futile wait, hoping against desperate hope that we could get back together, until Day 362 Post-Breakup when I was told, definitively, that it was over, for good.

And as if that wasn’t enough drama, early in the year, the gathering maelstrom of negativity dropped an eight-foot-tall cabinet door at home on my face, giving me five stitches above the eye; just months later, I got surgery and still more stitches on the sole of my foot thanks a splinter that had embedded itself too deeply. Around the same time, a bright-eyed career shift finally fell short of too many promises, leaving only disillusionment and disappointment. Most of the year was spent trying to restore my life to the normalcy I had known for the past twelve years, going on a succession of dates to fill the void—unsuccessfully. Amidst it all, it was hardly any surprise that I lost my muse: compared to previous years, 2010 was a dearth of composition, arrangement, and writing.

But, in fairness to the Universe: not only did I miraculously have enough strength to get through a turbulent year in one piece—there was also enough good in 2010 to actually make me consider saying that, despite all the crap, this was a pretty good year after all.

I rejoined my previous company, this time taking on a role which, even after almost a year, I still unequivocally enjoy.

I went back to Bikram Yoga after my last set of stitches came out; then shifted to seriously working out with a trainer, and am more fit now than I’ve ever been.

I was chosen by college blockmate and award-winning film director Francis Pasion to score his second full-length feature film, leading to a brief but fulfilling hiatus in the year's creative dry spell. The film won Special Jury Prize at this year’s Cinemalaya Independent Film Festival, and got rave reviews both in the Philippines and abroad—invariably with mention of the music.

I was able to spend more time with great friends from work, making up for my last few anti-social years of “having to go home and spend time with the husband”—including unforgettable trips to Boracay and Palawan.

And lastly, a two-and-a-half-week US concert tour with Hangad proved to be more than just a fun-filled trip. More than this, it re-ignited a feverish longing from 2005 to go to Berklee College of Music, which I shelved back then in favor of my then-relationship. Now free from what had once held me back, I have submitted my application, and am scheduled to audition in Boston on February 12.

Today is December 30, 2010: exactly one year from the start of my long-anticipated “big, bad thing”, when life as I knew it came crashing down—but when the Universe also started to send good things my way to help me get through the year. I don’t know if it’s coincidence, or all in the mind, or brought about by excitement at everything that’s in store next year—but just as the year that was draws to a close, so does the creative dry spell that dominated it, with a sudden downpour of melodies, a flood of ideas for essays, and a hurricane urge to just create, and create, and create.

Hence this new blog: born in a lovely deli near home, conceived over jazz music and a glass of red wine, and ready to capture a new year that promises to be filled with change and creation.

Let it pour, Universe. I’m ready.