breakfast joys.
Back when I was in college, one of my Theology classes required us to attend a weekly reflection session with a deacon. We were grouped with complete strangers from different programs, and every week we would gather to discuss our reflections on a Bible passage.
To be honest, I loved those sessions. I have always enjoyed talking to myself and minding my own business (kidding xD). Give me a question and enough time to gather my thoughts, and I will somehow find a way to write an essay about it.
The reflection method we used was called collatio. Basically, the methodology was to read a passage four times. The first reading was simply to understand the text. For the second reading, you should identify a word or phrase that struck you the most. On the third time, you ask yourself why that particular word/phrase resonated with you. On the fourth time, you try to reflect what God might be communicating through that experience.
On February 26, 2023, our assigned passage was Matthew 4:1-11. It was the story of Jesus being tempted in the desert. The word that stood out to me was:
hungry.
My reflection began with a Jollibee Breakfast Joy hotdog meal (my guilty pleasure T.T) I ate it for breakfast that day and it was really ironic that instead of feeling joy after eating it, I felt guilty.
I remember sitting there wondering why I had spent money on a breakfast meal when I could have simply eaten bread or something cheaper. The difference was not life-changing. It was not as though I had spent thousands of pesos on something useless. It was literally a hotdog meal.
Yet somehow, I felt as though I had done something wrong.
So I started my collatio, praying for discipline. I prayed for self-control, for thriftiness, to become less susceptible to self-gratification.
At least that was how I started my reflection.
Somewhere in the middle of it, the direction changed. I found myself asking different questions:
When was the last time I felt genuinely happy? Why did happiness looked like it's always followed by guilt? Why did I struggle to enjoy my free time without feeling that I should have been doing something more productive? Why did every small indulgence feel like something that required justification?
Rather than receiving a lesson about discipline, I ended the reflection feeling comforted. It felt as though the answer I received was this:
You do not need more discipline.
You need acceptance.
This is not a preaching session (I don't intend to T.T) but I was not in a particularly good place three years ago.
I was functioning. I was studying. I was doing what needed to be done.
But looking back, I carried certain beliefs about myself that I never bothered to question.
One of those beliefs was that my presence did not really matter.
I remember ghosting one of my closest friends during that period.
Not because he had done anything wrong or I did it out of hate.
I simply disappeared.
My reasoning (if it could even be called reasoning), was that people were probably better off without me bothering them. My absence would not make much difference. Life would continue exactly as it had before.
At the time, this felt obvious (like ghourl, looking back, that was so OA and dramatic of me, it still makes me cringe T.T). It never occurred to me that I might be wrong.
Then, six months later, a mutual friend told me how much my disappearance had affected someone. The last thing I had ever wanted to do was hurt someone, but because of my deep ingrained belief that the lives of the people around me magically becomes better when I am not around, I completely did the exact opposite.
The realization forced me to confront something uncomfortable.
I had been so convinced that my presence was insignificant that I had never considered the possibility that someone might genuinely care, notice, and be affected.
That I can accept my existence in other people's lives.
Three years have passed since that reflection.
I still enjoy Jollibee Breakfast Joy. I still occasionally catch myself feeling guilty over things that probably do not deserve guilt.
But I think I am happier now.
The strange part is that I cannot point to a single reason why. Is it because I became more unapologetically myself now that I have accepted my existence? Is it because I do not need to sacrifice my sleep anymore to chase academic deliverables?
My life is not perfect (and I think it will never be).
There are still uncertainties. There are still disappointments. There are still problems waiting patiently around the corner.
Yet I feel lighter.
Maybe it is because I have slowly gathered enough evidence to challenge the beliefs I once held so tightly.
As I continue to live, I guess I have gathered bits of evidence that accepting kindness is not selfish and that happiness does not always need to be earned.
I spent years treating every act of self-kindness as something that required justification.
Looking back, I am not sure why I believed those things.
But I do know is that they made life unnecessarily heavy. Very unnecessarily heavy (asf)
If there is a lesson hidden somewhere inside this story, I do not think it is about discipline. Nor is it about everyone should try Jollibee Breakfast Joys.
It is about accepting the possibility that you are allowed to receive good things. That you are allowed to enjoy a meal without defending its cost.
That you are allowed to be cared for, either by other people, or by yourself.
And perhaps most importantly:
That you are allowed to accept love when it is offered.
The Breakfast Joy meal lasted fifteen minutes.
The guilt lasted much longer.
But I am glad one of them finally left.
(plays the cure dejk)














