Isang Liham Para sa Aking Guro

Dear Sir Eddieboy,

Thanks for being there. I appreciate it very much.

I finally have time to respond. 
I'm currently looking after my dad who had an accident the day before my ordination.
He wasn't able to attend and witness my ordination because of that accident.
When I was in first year college, I remembered praying for two things. That I'll gain wisdom, and that my life will be interesting.
Apparently, asking for those two graces is like wishing for a keg of gunpowder and a lighted matchstick. 
I wrote that personal essay two days before ordination. And then a day before the event, something happens to my Dad.
That kind of event seems to be God's notion of "interesting."
So I understand that that is perhaps what my novice master meant when he told me, "Be careful what you pray for." 
And the resulting wisdom: Huwag kang magsasalita ng patapos. I should've known better: it was never about certainty, but hope.
I still carry with me something I learned from one of our discussions in medieval philosophy: believing as if.

It might be too early to wax sentimental over endings, since this new state is merely the beginning.
I've never understood the kind of ending that results from something that has run its course.
Some endings were often abrupt, or were decided for me by other people. 
Some endings were facile that they didn't deserve a cathartic celebration.
Some endings were not really endings because I kept on looking back or clinging on.
I never appreciated endings because I didn't have the satisfaction of natural, well-worn closures.

Saturday's event was an ending of sorts for me. 
I didn't have the privilege of attending my own college graduation. 
What replaced that was my entrance day to the novitiate.
But somehow, I knew that it was not really an ending and I was merely trying to compensate.
And then my first vows came, and I thought that this could be it--my first valid ending.
Yet, I still found that experience wanting.

All these vocation promotions seemingly emphasize novelty: "Join the Jesuits. Go to new places. Meet new friends. Have new experiences.
That may seem understandable; after all, I wonder who'd join us if we advertised this way:"Join the Jesuits. Get uprooted every now and then. Say frequent goodbyes. Attach and detach."
Jesuit formation, as I experienced it, was a rehearsal of endings. It was a training in goodbyes.

If endings were like symphonies, the actual goodbye would be one of its movements. For me, it would be a scherzo: humorous, awkward, fast-moving. 

Now that I think about it, it does seem like a four-movement symphony.

Some might think that all endings are sad. Maybe it takes experience to listen to its subtle beauty.

As in a symphony, an allegro might initiate the first movement. 

Then the adagio--the slow languorous movement that precedes the actual goodbye.

And the scherzo, finally capping off with a possible rondo--a return to the original theme.

I imagined last Saturday's ordination as the initial notes of my own rondo.

It was an ending of sorts, but it wasn't sad at all. 

It was beautiful but not in a poignant way.

It was "like a drop of water penetrating a sponge," as Ignatius would say.

Sa atin pa, swabe ang dating.

Mahirap nang magsalita ng patapos. 

But if my intuition is right, a real ending does not bind, but frees. 

It does not close doors, but opens possibilities.

That was the kind of ending I experienced last Saturday.

Salamat talaga sa Dyos.

At salamat din sa pagtulong sa pagtatabas ng masukal kong kaisipan.

Nilalasap ko ang lichtung.

Ulysses