A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man's mind can get both provocation and privacy. ~Edward P. Morgan

"Yes or no? Nah," I told myself as I removed my books off the shelf one by one asking "Shall I leave this behind?" I had two piles - those that I will bring with me and those that I plan to leave behind to my younger cousins. After a dozen books, I knew that I was in for a problem. The pile "to bring" was way higher than the other pile...

Growing up with my strict grandparents, I was not usually allowed to go out and play with the neighbors. With nothing left to do, books became my refuge and my means of escape. Reading did not only nurture my knowledge but also quenched my thirst to explore beautiful cities, brought me to the glorious ancient times and allowed me to share thoughts with the best thinkers the world has ever known. Reading also allowed me to explore forbidden and dangerous realms - the mind of a genius-turned-madman, the dark alleys where thieves and prostitutes lurk...even the fiery pits of inferno. More than anything else, books brought out the "human" in me - it toyed with my temper, made we weep inconsolably, and gave me the courage to face another day...

I know every book of mine by its smell, and I have but to put my nose between the pages to be reminded of all sorts of things. ~George Robert Gissing

I started opening them one by one and it felt like the first time - the plastic wrap that was difficult to tear apart and the strange yet captivating smell of printed paper. Then, I would start reading and the first few lines will usually tell if it is going to be a good read...

Of course, most them had yellow pages already and that weird funky smell reminiscent of an old school library. The pages were quite brittle and almost fragile. They were like abandoned parents battered by age and hard work and longing for the love and care of their progeny. What an ungrateful child I am to leave them behind!

At that moment, I knew that I was bringing every single one of them along with me. For me, they all deserve a spot in my new shelf, wherever it may be.

Let your bookcases and your shelves be your gardens and your pleasure-grounds. Pluck the fruit that grows therein, gather the roses, the spices, and the myrrh. ~Judah Ibn Tibbon

With only a few days left before we leave the country for Canada, I have been fixing and sorting my stuff - clothes, documents, awards, letters, and books. Though I knew from the start that sorting and selecting from a pile of more than twenty year's worth of things will be a daunting task, I never thought how difficult it would be to part with a lot of my things. To hell with the baggage limit!

The first set of clothes I bought with my first paycheck, the souvenir program of my first school play, the book that never fails to make me cry, the palanca letter written by the person i hated the most back in high school, and a whole lot more - for me, they were more than "things." They were snippets and fragments of my so-called life.

The set of clothes was not just that. It was happiness as I first spent my hard earned money. The souvenir program was dedication to what you were really passionate about. The book was vulnerability and a reminder that we are human after all. The palanca letter was the beauty of humility and the peace of mind and heart with forgiveness.

Unfortunately, the baggage limit knows no sentimental value. In the end, a lot of them will be left behind. In spite of this, while these things remind me of what my life has been like for the past twenty two years, leaving them behind will not erase a single memory. These things are only pathfinders in the vast terrains of our hearts and minds. Even without them, we will still be able to find our way around - reliving cherished moments in our lives one snippet at a time.

The term diaspora (in Greek, διασπορά – "a scattering or sowing of seeds") refers to any people or ethnic population forced or induced to leave their traditional ethnic homelands; being dispersed throughout other parts of the world, and the ensuing developments in their dispersal and culture.

THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING CANADA.

These were the words that I immediately saw one November night when I got home from work. I couldn't have been wrong in reading this line. It was written in bold, all caps and was seen right away from our half-open door. After reading these words, I knew we will soon join the Filipino diaspora - where hundreds of Filipino families are leaving the country for greener pastures. It was a brochure from the Canadian embassy and together with it was our notice to take the medical exam - the only prerequisite left before we are issued our permanent resident visas.

There was a sudden surge of mixed emotions after I read the notice. I did not expect that we will still be getting word from the embassy after five years of waiting. Thus, I have already set my plans here and it seems that things are going quite well as planned.

For instance, I recently got promoted as a manager in my company, a reputable multinational firm, after only 7 months of training. I have also made a good number of friends in my new organization.

Moving to a new country, and a far more developed one at that, means having to start from scratch. It might also mean losing the opportunity to climb the corporate ladder faster as I might not be given the same "jump start" that I had here. With this in mind, I thought that it would be best for me to stay behind. Anyway, after getting my permanent resident card in Canada, I can immediately return and stay for 3 more years. The timing is just perfect as my 3 more years here in the Philippines will allow me to gather enough working experience to get a master's degree in a reputable Canadian university.

As expected, my family was not "buying" this plan of mine which made it more difficult for me to decide. At a point where I did not know which way to go, I asked for a sign. After this, sleepless nights followed. I couldn't put myself to rest as my mind was working nonstop - contemplating on the right thing to do.

The signs showed up as early as January the following year. My new job was more stressful than I expected it to be - hours of work way beyond the usual, a difficult boss and an unreasonable teammate. Moreso, I was starting to get bored with my job.

For a very passionate person like me, boredom is non-negotiable. In my perspective, the worst thing is engaging in a profession that one is not passionate about. It should not only be "ok" as this means that it could have been "better" or even "great" if only one had not been too "safe."

Faced with this problem, I took some time to reflect on what I really want. I was thinking of something that will make me wake up each morning with a smile in my face knowing that I will be doing something that I am crazy about?. Then, I remembered how I always enjoyed and excelled in leading school groups whenever we make presentations whether they be live or recorded. In fact, these presentations have often given my grades that much needed budge up the scale.

Since it looks like my thoughts were pointing towards a change of career, I knew that I had to take further studies to hone my craft. I could either take another bachelor's degree - this time in communication arts or get a special program that will give me hands-on training on the different forms of media. Of course, a big consideration in this endeavor is the availability of funds to finance my education.

As a permanent resident, I can take advantage of Canada's prestigious centers of learning through numerous scholarships and zero-interest loans given by the government. If I had stayed here in the Philippines, I would not have even considered studying again as an option given the financial constraints.

That was the only time that our move to Canada started to make sense. In fact, this change helped me in more ways than one. It opened a lot of questions and led me to the answers.

Diaspora is what they call the transfer of families to other countries for a better life. However, with what happened to me, it became a more meaningful word. To me, diaspora transcends countries, borders and nationalities. Diaspora is a turning point in one's life where he realizes what matters to him. Then he takes that different turn, no matter how difficult it may be to pursue his heart's desire.