"Well, I lost myself in other's melodies
I was singing songs that were never meant for me
I tried to heal everyone's heartache but my own
Hiding behind their grief so I didn't feel alone." ~ from Other's Melodies by Gatton That was Gatton singing Other's Melodies through my headphones as I sat inside Basilica Minori Del Sto Nino on Maundy Thursday—Visita Iglesia was something I hadn't done in a while. Growing up around religious people, Visita Iglesia is a tradition and a Lenten practice to visit seven churches for penance and sacred vows from Maundy Thursday to Good Friday. I'm an oddball, though, more spiritual than religious, but I still respect our traditions. I find the practice beyond what rituals are. It is a conversation with ourselves to know what we can change and can not, taking a leap of faith in uncertainty and the monotony of life.
As I looked over my side, I saw my family starting to offer their prayers in silence. I took out the headphones, paused Spotify, kneeled at the kneeler in front, and closed my eyes to offer my prayers. Although I heard murmurs, it was like crickets in the night, somehow melodies of silence. As my consciousness sank deep into my internal conversations, the silence was deafening, and the serenity was melodious.
The stained glass caught my attention as I opened my eyes, sending me deep thoughts and reflecting on life. As the sunshine passed through the windows, a kaleidoscope of colors danced across the walls and floors, breaking the monotony of interiors in cathedrals. Yet, unlike other windows, the attention is not on the view we see through it but on the imagined vision it holds. Stained glass is a light painting, a lighted wall decoration. It will only glow brightly at the appropriate time of day. These are ancient masterpieces, a centuries-old art form used to honor a loved one or enhance a religious sanctuary's ambiance.
Yet more than merely a piece of entertainment or a work of art, it can inspire a moment of reflection. Not simply on the image it may convey but also on the symbolic significance of a window designed to gaze inwardly rather than outwardly. As opposed to the revelatory sign of light or the enticement of a window to look out upon the world represents how we experience the world through filtered lenses. Our punto de vista is colored; we don't know if they take us closer to the light of revelation or into darkness. Each panel in the stained glass showed a different perspective of the world—an allegory of our lives.
"Broken all the pieces I've been shaping lately
Focused on the things that didn't make no sense
Guess that growing up was never meant to be easy
Yeah, I got used to doing everything sideways
Didn't really care about how everyone felt
Hiding my emotions down in different ashtrays." ~ from Beautiful Scars by Maximillian I played Spotify, and Gatton ended. It was now Maximillian turn to sing Beautiful Scars. I continued to be amazed by the stained glass in Basilica Del Sto. Nino. These intricate and colorful works of art produce a soft, diffused light and a serene space that is so animate with the patterns of light as it changes with the sun. Beautiful and strong yet fragile and vulnerable. A perfect duality of what it to be beautiful and ugly. That is what makes stained glass in a cathedral work aesthetically well. A piece of colored glass is unappealing, but collectively a stained glass is a masterpiece.
We are like stained-glass windows. Our distinct life experiences, upbringing, and how we have built relationships with other people, communities, and places, we have a filter on how we view and experience our environment. These filters are lovely on their own, but when we put them all together, we begin to see the wider image, and that's when the true beauty comes through.
As the sun shines (the good things in life come), we glitter and shine. But when darkness falls (bad things happen), only the light from within can truly outshine the darkness, revealing our true selves. No matter how beautiful stained glass is, it won't indeed be what it promised to be.
Sharing what we find lovely in this world is one way we may connect. What makes us unique is that every person who views the same piece of stained glass will see it through their lens, see something new, and be able to contribute to the world in our unique way.
Again, life is similar to stained glass. When we held up to the light, it became bright. The unquestioned existence is usually dull. The colors, subtleties, and tales will not rush out and grab us by the throat; we must light them up for ourselves. Numbers have no significance, only depth. It is true of love, friendship, masterpieces, and, most importantly, years. Like a stained glass of Gothics that stood the test of time, there is beauty even in our brokenness.
The tiny beautiful things in life are bland and uninteresting. I'm also sure that people remember their regular life on the proverbial dying bed rather than our travels to Boracay or Palawan. We should focus on daily life, infusing it with as much awareness as possible. But I'm not saying stop traveling. Every day, there are things we might pause to admire, such as the sun rising and setting.
*All photos are from the author. The lyrics presented is curated from Spotify. If Spotify links doesn't work, the lyrics can be found in genius.com for Other's Melodies and Beautiful Scars*. 
