It has been five days since I came back from my recent business trip to Hong Kong. Nostalgia is now bearable. Sleep no longer eludes me. I am getting as much sleep as I can to recover from the wakeful nights of the fun week that was.
I feel dewy-eyed though every time I listen to a piece of indigenous music I recorded back when I was on my way to Mui Wo. A man performed it near the Star Ferry pier in Central. When I heard the sound of the flute and its accompaniment, I stopped by and watched him perform for a while.
Listening to the sound of the flute made me feel connected to something I have long forgotten, but something I’ve been trying to remember. When my tears started to well up, I decided to leave and soon enough I realized I was crying.
I can be sentimental like that. My old soul can’t help it.
The same piece of music also reminds me of someone dear and of what I could remember he told me. He said sometimes he is wondering of who I really am.
He’s trying to see through me and he sees nothing but a pure heart, he added. “Do you ever know how magical you are? Even from afar you radiate the light sought by many,” he said.
I find it bizarre enough as he isn’t the only person who told me that. I could only listen to him in awe and in despair, as well, because I already knew what was coming.
“Many people are blessed to find you. I’m sure they want to stay in your life, too, but once they see how genuine you are, they would leave because they would feel unworthy to be in your life,” he said.
“Is that why you are leaving, too? No one is unworthy in my heart, you know that. I am just like everyone else. I get sadder than everyone else, too. I am as unhappy, sometimes, too. I am as weak,” I said.
“You think you are like everyone else, but you already found yourself, and that’s the difference. Many of us haven’t found ourselves, yet. I want to find myself, too, and hopefully come back more worthy of being in your life. I know that it will be too much to ask you to wait for me, so I won’t, but please watch me, even from afar, as I journey to find who I really am and as I find my way to wherever you will be,” he said.
I would have cried but I could no longer do it in front of him for some reasons.
“I understand what you mean. You have my back. Go and live fuller, and come home when you can,” I said and smiled.
I never heard of him since but I knew he lived a happier life, too.
Back then and until now, like everyone else, I too don’t get it sometimes. Many things never make sense to me, as well, when I know they should. But I trust that someday, somehow things will come full circle, and whatever questions there are and there will be, I know that answers are and will be right in front of my eyes.
Until then, I am allowing myself to cry a little, laugh hard, and live a bolder life.
It never ceases to amaze me how listening to the sound of a flute takes me back in time and even beyond my present’s past. I suddenly feel connected to something I have long forgotten, but something I’ve been trying to remember.
Back then, I could no longer cry but now I can’t help it every time I hear that music. Could it be possible that I am still waiting for him to come home in this lifetime?