Kiko's Sketches & Kicks: My Soul's Days, My Saint's Days

I have had the rare opportunity of observing All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day in a very special way this year. The week leading to these two special days and the days thereafter became my saint’s days and my soul’s days.

All Saints’ Day, since the early days of monasticism, has always been a special day allotted by the Church to commemorate, honor, and emulate the holy lives of all saints. Transcending this tradition, however, is the Church’s admonition that all of us are actually called to be saints. It is therefore more of a challenge, especially in this age of extreme materialism, moral relativism and skepticism, to rise against sinfulness and return to the fold of truth, goodness, and light.

All Souls’ Day, on the other hand, is also a special day especially calendared by the Church for us to remember and pray for our departed brethren. More than remembering our departed loved ones, however, is the challenge for all of us to also remember that we are all endowed with our own souls which we must all cleanse and prepare for our ultimate re-union with our Creator.

November 1 therefore is the day we are all especially challenged to become saints. And November 2 is the day we are all especially challenged to prepare our souls for this same sainthood.

Prayer, especially the Eucharist, is always the best food for the soul. Personally, however, I find a number of balms that somehow caress and rejuvenate a tired and weary soul: nature, art, poetry, music, memories – both good and bad, my bonsais, a couple of hobbies, and most especially, love and my family. These, and the most precious time spent with them, make up my soul’s days. They, too, are my natural path to “sainthood,” if with God’s grace, I may ever attain that final goal.

Indeed, the past days have been my soul’s days and saint’s days.

One week before the two special occasions, I flew to Bicol to renew and re-strengthen my ties with my roots. I visited my ailing Papa and Mama, laughed and reminisced memories with my only brother and only sister, drank and sang with several relatives and friends, laughed with my 101-year-old Lolo and gazed for the first time at the 101-year-old face of romantic love in his eyes and the lady who’s currently the object of his heart. I am just awed at the love that beats inside a 101-year-old body.

After 26 years, I have had the chance to visit and pray at our family mausoleum for only the third time. I guided Edward, a distant cousin, in cleaning the place, lighted candles and took photos of the tombstones thereat for the family tree I have been working on for years. For the first time, too, I visited and prayed at the tombs of some friends whose wasted lives have recently been added to the growing list of victims of extrajudicial killings that now hover above and cast a shadow of death in this seemingly doomed country.

Back in Manila in the last day of October, I suddenly found myself enjoying a traffic-free drive along EDSA. There are only two days in a year when driving around Manila thoroughfares would be considered a pleasure: All Souls’ Day and Good Friday. Both are occasions for prayer and soul-cleansing. Both are great occasions to pray while driving. It is that rarest moment when you feel pleasure while praying.

And so, I decided to extend the pleasure. My family in tow, I maneuvered the car towards one of the nearest retreat forests I knew. Destination: Caylabne Bay Resort.

There are at least four reasons I like Caylabne. One, I love driving along the winding road that leads to the place. There is always something therapeutic, almost mystical, in driving along the winding road that seems to be tenderly hugging the sides of the mountain and gazing at centuries-old trees that seem to beckon at your every turn. Two, it is the only place I know where hawks are still observed swiftly gliding in the blue sky in search for preys. Different species of birds play among the savage branches unperturbed. Personally, the magnificent sight brings happy memories of my early childhood. Three, it is one of the very few places I know that boast both of a lush forest and a beach resort. And four, I adore the Spanish villas built in the place.

Herewith are a few of the photos I took during those days of my soul.

Ah, I wish to echo Sri Chinmoy’s words in his Eternity’s Vision-Reality Song:

Beloved Lord Supreme,
Do You approve of
My self-transcendence song?

"My son, not only do I approve
But it is I who will
Sing in you,
Sing through you
My Eternity's Vision-Reality Song."