ETHER DIARIES

controlled breaths | uncontrolled thoughts

Komorebi

 This piece was written for the souvenir program of the 52nd Philippine Board of Anesthesiology Conferment Ceremonies. It draws inspiration from the ceremony’s central theme—Komorebi, the Japanese word for sunlight filtering through trees. This served as a metaphor for resilience and quiet hope amid adversity. Composed during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, the poem reflects the emotional landscape of that time: the weight of uncertainty, the ache of isolation, and the longing for light. Through imagery of shadow and surrender, it traces a journey from desolation to renewal, echoing the spirit of the anesthesiology community as it emerged from crisis with grace and resolve. (Edited version of the originally published poem)
Komorebi


In my dreams, I heard an ominous song,

An elegy of sorrow, deep and long,

A melody of melancholic symphony,

To Aokigahara, the sound has summoned me.

A blinding mist of obliviousness,

Has shrouded my tangled consciousness,

With every leaf, my soul was buried,

Embraced with gloom that winds have carried.

As lurking darkness consumed my existence,

My spirit was swallowed with aching despondence,

I closed my eyes, to the voice I surrender,

And desolation released my essence to wander.

I looked up and beyond the greens, I see,

A grafile glow, thwarted by a dancing tree,

I followed the faint ray, to fathom the beauty,

A spore of hope, the light of Komorebi!

Enthused with its glistening brilliance,

My troubled soul pursued its magnificence,

As I looked back, the woods have vanished,

Feeding my faith that was scored and famished.

Into the void, the song of anguish fades,

As the light of vigor passes through the shades,

My heart reborn, now sings the day,

A glorious ray unveiled my way. 

The hush of grief began to wane,

As light unstitched my woven pain, 

Each step unburdened what once clung tight, 

Komorebi whispered: choose the light. 

Leave a comment

I’m Macoy Cruz

I’m an obstetric anesthesiologist by training, and honestly, a satirist because it’s the only way to stay sane. Most days I’m tucked behind the drapes, dealing with misbehaving vitals, badly timed alarms, and patients who may or may not be fully committed to consciousness.

I was clinically diagnosed with depression in 2018, and it has been relapsing ever since. I look fine most of the time. I function. I teach. I work. Then the heaviness shows up again, stays for a while, and eventually lets go. It comes and goes in cycles, and I have learned to move with it even when it feels like it is pulling me under.

This blog has become part of how I cope. Writing helps me steady myself when the quiet depression returns. It gives me a place to breathe and make sense of the days when I feel like I am slipping beneath the surface.

So this space is my cool down zone. Part storytime, part rant, part emotional first aid kit. Expect thoughts on medicine, life, and the strange challenge of staying awake in a system that seems built to knock everyone out, figuratively and literally.

Let’s connect