Back To The Center

By Marjorie Casinillo

I took a walk around our old stomping ground. Quite noticeably, the streets seem smaller- or perhaps I got bigger. I remember every corner of our old basketball court.

The place did not feel the same after that one December night. I remember it quite vividly. It was a week before Christmas Eve and I was about to go to sleep when I heard screams from our neighbors. I thought a fight broke out in the neighborhood. I heard a neighbor screaming the waters were rising. "She must be drunk." I thought. This place has never flooded before. I saw waters rush in like it's washing the whole place. We quickly tried to get out of the house but the main door won't open. Luckily, the window was broken. We passed through it and climbed to the roof. It was brutally cold and dark. It was the longest night of my life. Morning came, the cries grow fainter and fainter. The scene after it was unimaginable- something I thought would only happen in movies. Bodies of people I know are being dragged off the mud. Cars toppled over one another, roofs dragged for miles. The stories told were unimaginable, you would think a child made it up. It was never the same since then.

A decade later, I find myself in the same place. I watched the kids play. Two of them were dancing on Tiktok. The rest of the younger crew were playing Red Light, Green Light. One caught my eye. She looked like she's of the same age as the two dancing, but she played with the young ones. I used to be her. I was dubbed childish before for playing with the kids. But I loved every second of it. I loved being the mother of my crew. I loved sitting at the kid's table even though I am allowed to sit with the adults.

In hindsight, I am amazed that every time I felt lost and confused, I would always find myself home. There's just something about going home that feels centered. We used to play on the basketball court where we would race to the center or what we call "home".

These days, I feel like that kid again, rushing to be home to the center. Every time I am home, I am reminded of who I am before everything; my achievements, my heartbreaks, and my mistakes. I am reminded of what I really love.

Home could mean a whole lot of things to us. It could mean a safe space to some, and a battleground to others. It changes as seasons do. But maybe the home I am talking about is a different kind. Maybe it's giving your inner child a visit; having a conversation with him/her to remind you of what your heart beats for. Maybe it's going back to the simple truth; it's going back to the one that centers you the most.

Marjorie Casinillo

https://marjoriecasinillo14.medium.com

Marjorie currently resides in the heart of the beautiful island of Bohol, Philippines. She runs her family’s little hotel located near the hills. Prior to moving to the quiet town of Carmen, she resided in New York where she created bonds with the most amazing women she has ever met.
Marjorie intends to use her voice through writing and other social enterprises, she hopes to pursue in the future.

You can connect with Marjorie on Instagram at @marjoriecee.