I have never felt so in tune the I have been in the last few days, as if the lunar eclipse marked something. I felt this way a few years ago, when Mars was suddenly visible to the naked eye. Lately, I’ve been laughing at the moon, as if it’s playing peek a boo with me; it’s also helping that the clouds have been away for so long. It’s like the Universe is synchronized, like it’s beating for a reason, like everything is good and right, like these things:

1) I’ve made a habit of smiling at people I think are Filipino, or if I recognize the language. I met a nanny earlier who’s been here for five years, and it was a pleasant conversation. She lives near where I live and I hope to run into her again. I smiled at a lady earlier and she smiled back at me like she knew something I knew. I’m sure she’s Filipino.

2) This morning, I am blessed beyond what my humanity deserves. If you are reading this, know me personally, and might see me on Sunday at Hillsong, go ahead and ask. You can tell me your story in return.

3) Crossing a street, I pass by a well dressed and well poised man, coated and wearing blue sunglasses. He walked in a straight line like a bullet showing off it’s accuracy. I would rather he saw me, but I wasn’t so sure if he did. I wanted to smile at him, wondering if he would smile back. He looked so pretty and neat and I so hoped that I was charming enough to catch his eye in spite of wearing black and all covered up. Then I realized, he might be gay.

4) I was restless all morning at work. I tried to read A Clash of Kings but Brienne and Catelyn were trying to figure out what they had just run away from and I was in the same confused boat as they were, so I decided to put that plot line on pause and do something else. Will said that I take deep breaths but all that did was take the restlessness to my arms. So I tweeted. I wanted to crochet but then again my mind will wander off. This was an opportunity to be focused.

5) The feeling of restlessness must have been reflected by the fact that there is a meteor shower. Maybe, just maybe, this makes sense. Or that Mercury is back on track.

6) It’s 3:52 pm and I haven’t had lunch. I do plan to do a yoga routine, vocalize and sing a song while my window is WIDE open. Might as well take advantage of the cold, with hopes of challenging what my body could do.

7) I think I’m developing a heart for buskers. Some more than others have mad talent and I may or may have not fallen in love with one or more of them around the city. I am forming the habit of keeping a dollar in my pocket in case an awesome talent catches my attention hard enough for me to follow their sound. I gave a dollar to a guy singing jazzed up standards and called me sweetheart as I thanked him. The only compliment I had today, which is saying a lot considering I hadn’t had the time to wash my face this morning. Generosity attracts, like a well earned dollar in return for a good rendition of a song.

8) It’s final. All I know to do is sing. It’s probably all I live for. It’s been a year since I started lessons with Edgardo. He made us go on hiatus due to Christmas festivities and I missed him like I’ve known him for decades and have known nothing else. All I know is to sing. I’m excited to be rehearsing Christmas songs tomorrow for church. Last week, I was sort of singled out (high five, ya’ll) as an example of “how everyone should sound like.” The week before, at an alter call in Irving Plaza, someone tapped my shoulder and said that I have a beautiful voice, that it’s bizarre for someone to hear someone else’s voice when they’re not facing you, and that I light up a room. “Keep singing,” she said. I hugged her half a dozen times.

9) Last night, as if bookmarking God, I whispered to my pillow, saying “Godangit, I feel like there’s something for me today.” Like there’s something I have to anticipate, something to look forward to. Like something inevitable is going to happen and that it’s for me. That everything around me is around FOR me. It’s a great feeling. If I were with Micko Yabut in a coffee shop in Alabang, I’d confidently tell him that I am some reincarnated deity. He’ll let me say it then he’ll tell me how stupid this notion is, but I won’t be offended…like benevolent deities don’t easily get offended.

10) It pays to love on people, so at work, I am saying goodbye to people who matter right before I leave, including thanks for whatever help and information they have given me. I notice that this doesn’t happen, and instead, people just jet out as soon as they could. I figured that if I were to be canonized for sainthood, I’d be the Saint Pammu, The Patron Saint of Being There. Also, I was raised to say goodbye properly.