storms of our lives.

(I know this is a little late, but after a long hiatus from blogging and another hiatus from academic stuff, I figured it would perhaps be timely if I break my silence with a recollection of the not-so-distant past – and what more significant event to talk about than the recent ‘millennial’ storm?)

When you’ve just come home after a long exam and you got another one coming up, anticipating a days-long blackout would perhaps be the last thing on your mind. But when it suddenly strikes and you discover that the next best thing to do is to wait, you also realize that it’s not the end of the world, after all.

In a nutshell, the onslaught of super-typhoon Milenyo could be summed up in the words of famed writer Charles Dickens himself: “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” Sure, many of us, hard hit, were at our worst states physically, emotionally and mentally during what almost came close to the actual apocalyptic event, but needless to say the deluge also brought out the best in us – our ingenuity and resourcefulness, showcasing the best of man at work in his time of dire need.

As for me, I didn’t even have the slightest idea that a typhoon was coming at hand. All that’s racing inside my already spent mind that late rainy afternoon was the grim fact that one night is all that’s standing between me and pages of exam material plus a still-to-be-assembled jigsaw puzzle of research substance. And then a text brigade heralding the good news (“No class”) would just have to come so casually, so abruptly it left me overwhelmingly ambivalent, not knowing that the day after I would be greeted by a stretch of empty darkness and the not-so-pleasant howl of a roaring gale whipping up a tumult outside. The time for vigilance had arrived.

Milenyo’s rampage was also the time to take a break, to reflect on those aspects of life that had long been overshadowed by what I thought were more important matters concerning academics and an eventual career. Over breakfast, lunch and supper by candlelight – and in between as well – I found out that I finally had the spare time to assess things concerning the way I was living my life, my relationships, and most importantly, my spirituality – the crisp shattering of glass and the dull thud of flying iron sheets serving as an uncanny backdrop, making one feel very much at the mercy of God. And then it suddenly dawned on me: In this life, there will be many more Milenyos to zap you back to the world of reality, making you see the essentials when you almost thought there’s nothing else to it than the same old boring routine of everyday.

That’s how I thought things officially went, but even in its aftermath, Milenyo seemed to have left other tricks up its sleeve. While some would agree that having no electricity is somewhat okay, few (if ever any at all) would readily think through the prospect of having no water – an inevitable consequence for most of us who rely day and night on the whirr of the motor to keep our tank constantly filled. Thus when the dreaded day came, I felt like someone thrust into a brand new reality show ala “Survivor” where they nastily get to eliminate your necessities one by one. Fortunately, we had some emergency supply of water - but when are these going to last?

Still, I reckoned even bigger problems lie ahead. The day after the huge outburst, Manila was a deforestation scheme in the making. One can only be amused at the sight of cars playing “patintero” all over the streets, ever so carefully dodging one or another fallen tree or lamppost, precariousness always rolled in between. Nevertheless, pity and regret entered the picture as one beheld the sight of an almost century-old tree, torn from the roots with its branches grotesquely snapped. Here, Joyce Kilmer’s lines sting with the acerbity of a grapefruit: “Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.” How true – for it would take decades or so before another majestic product of nature can be seen standing proud once again. One more message hard earned: Enjoy the things while they’re still there.

But the trees that they are, I believe they stood for something much larger than themselves. Passing rows of felled robust trees now only good enough to stoke fire, it was almost unbelievable to see the smaller and less mighty ones still standing, most especially the fabled coconut which appeared to be relatively unaffected by the atmospheric surge, a true testament to the supposed pliancy and resiliency of the “tree for all seasons.” It struck me that sometimes, playing low-key’s the key. It is better for one to be flexible, to stoop down and harmlessly go with the tides rather than to uselessly battle it out with a stubborn foe.

For Milenyo had no preconceptions when it struck: It was unmindful of who we are, of where we stand, of how we will deal with the consequences. We had electricity three days after the storm, but my aunt’s driver already had power in his abode that very same stormy night. So it goes with saying that while some remote, relatively shabby parts of the metropolis rejoiced over the quick restoration of a normal, functional life, many areas in plush Makati and Ortigas continued to pass the time with fingers anxiously crossed.

Things like these will make you wonder how fate intriguingly tips the scales from time to time, as if giving evidence to the whole story of life as a wheel. But whatever the case may be, I’m quite sure Milenyo will forever leave me feeling a lot more fortunate than before. I’m pretty thankful that a humongous billboard or Ministop sign didn’t crash right smack into our car, and that rainwater didn’t flood into our dwelling, and that we were spared the extra agony of an extended vacation in the dark with a depleted water supply. Bereft of petty material indulgences, it taught me to concentrate on prioritizing and conserving the things I really need. For citizens of the alleged SMS capital of the world, this surely entails down-cutting measures in texting especially when one has nowhere left to recharge one’s phone.

Almost a month after having our nerves tested with one of nature’s powerful elements, we continue to read in the papers stories of the extraordinary kind, stories of faith, hope, courage and bravery; of heroism and of mankind’s intense will to survive whatever the odds; stories that will continue to inspire each and every one of us, a seeming reaffirmation that wherever destiny brings us, there still remain in this life things worth living for.

Which leads me to ponder that perhaps, sometimes, all we’ll ever need is a storm.