happily lost!

Encountering my 16 year-old self

2012-02-03T01:47:00.000+08:00

Image from here.

1:16 AM

I spent the day doing much of nothing, all I achieved wasattending class and taking a whole day to finish something that usually takesme about 2 hours to finish. And then I wasted the day refreshing Facebook andgroup-buying sites scouring for deals that will enable me to have a semblanceof a life that I can (not really) afford.

I wanted to save some part of today, have it not be a waste.And so I decided I wanted to write something more fun – less of a task to checkoff my list (though I’ve been doing pretty okay in that aspect, save for theexercise and eating better). An ever present thought in my mind is that I amturning thirty in less than 2 months, and contrary to what I had imagined, I amnot the success I thought I was going to be. But what am I, really?

I know there is a more comprehensive list of dreams that arelying around, but this is one that I take from when I was 16 years old. It waspart of a scrapbook project for PROSEC (a personality development class) and whenI had run out of album space to fill, I started writing on a sheet of paper allthe unspoken dreams that I could fit into it.

Here they are:

· ~~I will be a consistent dean’s lister~~ (must qualify: College, not law school)

· ~~I will graduate with latin honors~~

· I will be able to buy myself a pager – notcheck, but I’ve been able to own so much more! Haha how very 90s of me to dreamof a pager

· ~~I will learn how to drive~~ – I am anawesome driver!

· I will impressively decorate my room – Needswork!

· I will be the lead singer in a band – okay, thisneeds work. Maybe I can jam with a band?

· I will find a good and God-fearing husband –hmm. A nice date to start, maybe?

· I will be a good mother – again, let’s startwith a date, any date! HELP.

· I will be an obedient daughter – When does beingobedient end?

· I will bring my parents to wherever they want togo – okay, so not check. But there’s still time!

· ~~I will work for a well-known communicationscompany~~ – I did, until I realized how much I hated advertising

· I will progress fast – hmm.

· I will send and pay for my brother’s schooling –didn’t think I’d be broke till now

· ~~I will take up law in the college best for me~~ –check? But I really wanted to go to the other school initially + I failed thebar

· ~~I will be a leader in YFC~~ - check

· ~~I will get myself a blowdryer~~ – never got oneBUT bought myself an Instyler AND my parents gave me one for Christmas (peromehn ang babaw nito haha)

· ~~I will get a CD player~~ – check! Haha how funny Iwas at 16

· I will team lead in a camp – never did.

· I will star in a play – never did.

· I will play piano – there are days when I feellike I still could.

There you go. An insight into a dream and the reality thatcame with it. I know there’s really no time limit. For my thirtieth birthday, Iwould just like to begin and approach it with an aura of gratefulness foreverything that I’ve dreamed and made happened, and even those that didn’t.

Chance meetings

2012-01-15T13:05:00.002+08:00

Image from here.

Where do your mundane activities lead you? The other day, I was doing homework and then I suddenly found myself caught up in one of those whirlwinds that leave you shaken for days, even weeks (I hope not) after.

What began as research for class turned into one of those three-hour conversations that you keep in the pockets of your mind - an unwitting bench mark for more meaningful conversations in the future. The conversation itself felt a bit like literature (carefully crafted questions, beautifully written responses, glimpses of brilliance in little turns of phrases). And it began so innocently - a thing that I needed to check off my to-do list. It was Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail who so aptly put it: "The odd thing about this form of communication is that you're more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings." And so it has, for me at least. In the three hours that we spoke, I've said more to that stranger than I have to those I call my friends. It was both strange and fascinating, a bit like walking on a ledge, edging closer and closer to see how far you can go without actually falling. It felt a bit like putting myself out there, like taking a chance, like all those other cliches that people use to say falling in love without actually having to say it. It felt like dangling my legs by the edge, wondering how it felt to jump into something so foreign, so unknown. I jumped.

It ended as abruptly as it began. At the end of the third hour, I realized how strange we actually were to each other. It had taken him that long to tell me that he was getting married. Soon. After that, we exchanged nothing more but polite pleasantries. I said goodbye before I could do more things I would regret. But when I remember things he said, I don't, really. It's only when I hear his words in my head that I feel haunted. Haunted by the idea that I could meet someone like that, so late, too late. Haunted by the idea that he might be the only one like that. Haunted by the idea that while I will keep those three hours worth of words for a long time (maybe forever), I know that he has already forgotten me. How could he not?

My head is still above the water though, I'll live.

Swept by the tides

2011-11-18T11:31:00.001+08:00


Image from here.

Can't believe it's been two months since I last wrote here. I do literally feel as though I've been swept by the tides - into a strange and unexpected version of my life. October and November have gone by in a blur, and I am the first to be surprised at how quickly time passes now that I am starting to live my life again.

For the most part, not a lot has changed. I am still the same person that I was when I last wrote here. The change, if I can call it that, has been an inward one. Stories are always better when they are character-driven rather than plot-driven, as one of my teachers often say (more on that later). The change has to come from within. And so it has, in my case. I have just given myself the permission to do things again: to see people again, to have fun again, to be out under the sun again, to believe that I can begin again.

In the months after I've failed the bar, it has been a struggle (it still is) to function as myself. But what can one do except to continue? If you do not die from your failure (as I had hoped I would), what else is there to do except to live on?

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So true

2011-09-29T16:10:00.001+08:00

Image from here.

Saw this and laughed out loud. The accompanying article was a pretty interesting read too. In our quest to do everything, we end up doing nothing, or invalidating what we have done because it falls short of our own unrealistic expectations. Do read the article! It certainly made me think about the way I view my life and what I've done with it so far.

Learnings

2011-09-26T00:35:00.000+08:00


Some things you just can't learn from books. Image from here.

The past week was so interesting to me, mostly because it was an exercise in deviation. From routine, that is. For the past few months, I have really been struggling to put myself on a schedule, to achieve certain checklists every day, in the hopes of being more productive and feeling more fulfilled with how I spent my time. What was strange to me was that even when I did manage to accomplish many of the things on my list (work, research, private writing etc.), I didn't really feel more fulfilled or motivated afterwards. I wonder if it was because of the quality of goals that I accomplished, or because of the direction that I was heading towards. Last week was an interesting experiment in that I threw out my to-do lists and decided to do things on the fly. It was one of the most fulfilling weeks I've had this year (or maybe in the last 2-3 years).

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The things I find online

2011-09-19T14:08:00.002+08:00

The Monument to the Discoveries in Lisbon, Portugal <- I should build my own monument for my own online discoveries!

It's been a while since I used the internet for social networking purposes, but it's kept me company through many tough times. I love how it keeps me connected to people who help keep me dreaming and hoping. I love that it gives me access to people who are doing what I want to do, who remind me that I have the power of doing what I am so certain that I cannot. I love how it reminds me of how much the world is changing, yet, how much the world is getting smaller also. All of these things have already been said and restated about the internet, to be sure. I want to say them anyway; in gratitude for it keeping me company through long restless nights where question is followed by question.

Here are some of my recent internet loves.

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What I Must Learn To Do

2011-09-15T12:16:00.000+08:00

"And then I learned, most important, to write while not writing. Without jotting a word, I wrote all day long with my eyes and ears and mouth. I didn’t learn boundaries—my office space where I can think, versus my real life. It was all one life, one blur. In a way, because my actual time at the desk was so limited, I learned to write all the time—even in my sleep. And so when I got to the desk, I wrote madly. It all came fast."

- From the writer Julianna Baggott, who has written 16 books in 3 different genres

It seems as though the lesson that keeps getting impressed on me is to continue trying. To write even when I can't. To live even when I am uncertain if it is worth it. To hope even without knowing if it is within the realm of possibility.

On trying

2011-09-09T02:48:00.001+08:00

Image from designboom.

There is no guarantee that one will reach any of one's goals in this life. But not to struggle toward those goals is to guarantee that they won't be attained. - Reginald Shepherd (from his essay Why I Write)

Holding on...

2011-08-21T00:19:00.000+08:00

It's always a surprise to me that I don't have very much to say. The thought makes me panic because I have this vision of myself as a writer, and how can one succeed as a writer, or as anything of value for that matter, if they have nothing to say?

Yet, I have to admit that I haven't been living much at all. Fate looks down upon me and gives me its wisdom in the form of a movie line (I live mostly vicariously through the adventures of fictional characters - in this case, through Kristen Wiig of Bridesmaids fame) "I am the problem, and I am the solution."

All I have to go by now is conquering both my fear of moving forward & my fear of being left behind. I have to admit that anything outside of myself is out of my comfort zone. I have to push forward.

All things Hamburg

2011-08-05T12:47:00.000+08:00

Germany has never been one of the places I've dreamed of going - but today, it seems so shiny and interesting all of a sudden. Hamburg in particular seems like such a culturally rich place to be!


The book cover of the version that I read

For one, the characters of the book I've just finished live in Hamburg, Germany. I imagine it would be fun to run around the paths they did before deciding to embark on their greatest adventure yet.

A lovely photo of my favorite burger borrowed from the blog CoffretGeorge

For another, it is the birth place of one of my most favorite foods in the world: The hamburger! My love affair with it has made me run around the metro in search of the most memorable versions, and my friends will attest to this. The home of my favorite one is proudly here in Manila - Lusso's Foie Gras burger to be precise - but I will always love Hamburg for coming up with this gem of a meal.

Lastly, wouldn't you want to visit a place that manages to have the charm of an old city and the cheekiness of a new one? I love love love this installation. The artist is genius!

Well, hello there, bathing beauty!

The sculpture is a temporary installation by the artist Oliver Voss. I'm not sure what possessed him to build it, but I would love to have me some of whatever he was having when he thought of this!

who wouldn't want to paddle up to this?

Showing us all how to be cool

Like I said - Hamburg seems so magical now. This siren is singing her song to me.

all the trappings of a love story

2011-07-30T12:23:00.001+08:00

better than fiction! Image from here.

There are moments when I feel more alive reading than I do when I go about my day. Books can make you feel that way sometimes - you can find yourself lost in the pages of whatever you are reading, going through the ups and downs with the hero. Yesterday was not one of them.

I was in a used bookstore finding more strange titles to add to my pile, excited to see all the authors I had yet to discover. I surfaced from my spine-scanning and was surprised to look into the eyes of a cute stranger, one bookcase away from me. He was dressed simply, in a blue shirt and jeans, his black backpack slung low on one shoulder. He had delicate features - kind eyes and salt and pepper hair cut close to his head. He was most likely amused by my apparent glee to be near books. When he saw me look up, he smiled in the way (I imagine) a fellow book lover would when in the presence of a kindred spirit. I was caught so off-guard that I had to duck behind another bookcase to hide my blush. In the space of a few minutes, we played cat and mouse inside the bookstore, looking over at each other through bookcases, hiding smiles behind books. It was like a love story come to life.

We didn't actually talk to each other - I didn't want to break the magical feel of that moment. I bought the books I held in my hand when I first saw him, to remind me that it's small moments like those that give birth to the most interesting stories.

beautiful things

2011-07-27T00:53:00.000+08:00

Garlic makes everything better! Image taken from here.

"Find something beautiful to notice every day."

I read this last night, and it resonated with me. So much of my time is invested in "getting things done" that I rarely get the opportunity to notice little things. The passage I read said that it's the little things that are the "stuff of life". The smell of bread baking, the sound of rain outside, the look of complete trust you get when a child looks at you. Small things which remind you that life is absolutely beautiful.

I don't get out a lot, but I wanted to contribute something beautiful I noticed today. I love the smell of garlic cooking. It can fill a room, an entire house even - and for me, the smell always tells me that something good is cooking for dinner. I cooked for myself tonight - just some pasta using the leftover chicken that no one wanted. I was so glad it turned out delicious. It inspired me to spoil myself a little more. Made myself a hot cup of toffee nut milk and some buttered nutella toast while I caught up on Chuck. All in all, a good day.

Joy

2011-07-10T00:24:00.001+08:00


I find this photo both strange and enchanting (image from here)

This week has been tough, but overall, what I would like to take away from it is how there were many moments within it that were just joyful. I wish I had taken more photos - just so I have something to look at when I want to remember. But I was too overcome by joy from having conversations to worry about taking photos.

There is this feeling of everything falling into place. There is a part of me that wants to believe that this is the universe conspiring to give me what I want - not for free, I know. I intend to work hard, and am prepared to accept very little. I am amazed to think about why these things don't scare me too much. I just want to begin.

This is not one of those philosophical posts, but more like a documentation of all the joyous moments I have had this week. For so long, they were few and far between. Now, the month has barely started, and there have been so much that have been keeping me perked up.

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Pursuit

2011-06-28T00:37:00.000+08:00


with no other purpose than to run after bubbles (image from themindfulmoment.com)

Last night I attended my good friend's belly dance recital. I had been through many recitals in my lifetime (too many to count, in fact) but most of them were when I was much younger. Ballet, piano, voice, art exhibits - I am no novice to recitals, I tell you. But watching a grownup friend at a recital of her own choosing is a different thing, I realized. For one, you are more invested - as an adult, you give up so much more than just your free time when you decide to participate in a recital. When you are much younger, time is an abundance - but when you are grown, it's time spent not sleeping, time spent away from your significant other, money not saved, other opportunities not pursued...you get my drift. I so enjoyed watching my friend P, and watching other women like her seeking these non-traditional passions, and succeeding so wonderfully at them. In our household, adherence to tradition in everything is something that is cherished - and chasing after frivolities (at least in the eyes of my folks) is of course frowned upon.
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What Have You Learned Today?

2011-06-14T00:41:00.001+08:00

I am terrified by how accurate his thoughts portray my days.

I am often boggled by how to measure how well-spent a day of my life is. When my life was more active (read: less secluded) than it is now, I used to think that for as long as I was making great memories, my life was being lived fully. We put meaning into our days by having endless conversations over overpriced cups of coffee, and defined ourselves by the activities we set time for.

Now, I am at a point in my life where I get so little human interaction and outdoor exposure that I find that it is impossible to quantify my days in the way I used to. Now, what I look to in order to say that I have successfully lived that day is to ask myself "What have I learned?".
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Questions

2011-06-04T16:37:00.000+08:00

why is it that the only time i appear to not be socially inept is when i pretend i am someone other than myself?

why is that when i go someplace, there is no trace of my being there other than the empty space i just left and the awkward silence that has been filled since my departure?

why am i a mystery even to myself?

in the words of leo gursky, "I knew I was different from them, and the difference hurt."

I cried when I finished reading The History of Love

2011-06-04T16:18:00.001+08:00

It took me a while to finish The History of Love. Every time I came across a passage I loved I stopped because wanting to write like that gave me aches in the pit of my stomach. Such beautiful writing. I always wonder if the words appeared before them magically like in dreams or if they are just thoughts come upon and rehashed. Here are some of the passages I loved the most, quoted in full so I don't forget them.

---------------------------------

WHAT I AM NOT

My brother and I used to play a game. I'd point to a chair. "THIS IS NOT A CHAIR," I'd say. Bird would point to the table. "THIS IS NOT A TABLE." "THIS IS NOT A WALL," I'd say. "THAT IS NOT A CEILING." We'd go on like that. "IT IS NOT RAINING OUT." "MY SHOE IS NOT UNTIED!" Bird would yell. I'd point to my elbow. "THIS IS NOT A SCRAPE." Bird would lift his knee. "THIS IS ALSO NOT A SCRAPE!" "THAT IS NOT A KETTLE!" "NOT A CUP!" "NOT A SPOON!" "NOT DIRTY DISHES!" We denied whole rooms, years, weathers. Once, at the peak of our shouting, Bird took a deep breath. At the top of his lungs, he shrieked: "I HAVE NOT BEEN UNHAPPY! MY WHOLE! LIFE!" "But you're only seven," I said.

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winning

2011-05-30T00:38:00.000+08:00

photo from bing ramos

when i was younger, i always thought that the key to winning at life was always to become successful - at least in the traditional way that my parents viewed success. i can't even count the many car drives with my dad when i didn't receive a lecture (sometimes welcome, sometimes not really) about succeeding. my parents are both successful in their own right, i suppose. they came from very poor backgrounds, and through will, hard work, brains and balls, they managed to leave the small ponds they were born into and become relatively big fish in relatively bigger ponds. i don't begrudge them of that. i've always been grateful of how comfortable our lives were, how very different from the time when they were growing up. there were so many things that were given to me as a product of their hard work - countless pesos and hours spent on every lesson imaginable (ballet, art, swimming, theater, piano, voice, speed reading); many, many plays and musicals seen, many hoity-toity restaurants dined at, many trips to so many colorful places, many nights slept away in airconditioned coolness, many days spared from the frenzy that is the manila commute. i have been given all of that, and i will be forever grateful.
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Is it Falling Down or Flying?

2011-05-25T01:49:00.001+08:00

Leap, and a net will appear

Image from the blog vickywattvoice

A few years back, I came across this saying that said "Leap, and a net will appear." That thought has been on my mind for a while now. For several weeks now, I have been moving in a glacier-like pace, in an effort to fix the mistakes of the past months. Now, more than ever, I am terrified of moving forward - doing so unquestioningly has on more than one occasion bitten me in the ass. Now, 2 months have passed since my biggest failure to date, and I cannot seem to identify what path is in effect the one that moves me forward.

fortune favors the brave

2011-05-07T15:00:00.000+08:00

one number away from one million pesos

about a month ago, my family attended a bingo social. my dad had somehow been paid/gifted with bingo tickets to this big-ass bingo game for his legal services and so, not being bingo people, we all lethargically pushed our butts off to play big-time bingo. at P100K per game and P1 million for the block out prize, we all pushed our gambling doubts aside, it was too big a chance to pass up!

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wanting and believing

2011-04-25T23:58:00.006+08:00

A few years ago, during my very short stint as lifestyle editor for a youth-oriented magazine, I pitched a story to my editor that basically espoused the idea of dating yourself. Since we wrote for impressionable youth of college age, and going through the whole college dating (or non-dating) scene myself, I felt it was important to show single people (single girls, mostly) that being single was not the curse many people thought it was. This whole concept was lost on my editor of course, and I don't blame her. She was pretty, smart, and genuinely kind. I imagine she found it hard to believe that there existed a shortage of men available to wine and dine the female college population. More than that, I imagine she questioned the logic of any girl who would want to forgo the rules of dating (and society in general). What self-respecting girl would skip ahead of the dating part and go straight to dessert? And if not to date, then what for?

Now, I'm sure it is obvious that I was a girl unlike my editor. I was the girl who sat patiently while other girls talked about their dream dates, when their respective significant others had surprised them with pre-ordered gourmet dinners followed by gargantuan bouquets with hidden concert tickets to her favorite musician's show, or with dates that took them from rollerblading to picnicking to smooching atop a lighthouse tower, who imagined how the food tasted at the posh hotel they had been taken to, who wondered if such a date, or any date in the same ballpark would materialize for her. now many years out of college, i still wonder. it just never happened for me, i guess.

But then, it almost never happens for many girls like me. this realization brings me to another unfortunate realization: sometimes, no matter how great the girl (and i don't even mean me), it just never happens. And what is to become of those girls who never bothered to go out or get dressed unless someone asked them? what kind of permission did they need to be able to taste good food, to see spectacular sights, to seek out new experiences?

the many years of waiting to be asked out has made me a bit (a lot) cynical, to be sure. as an act of defiance, i had eschewed the whole meeting people thing. it got to be too frustrating. i had built wall after wall around me, until i got to the point where i am now: so isolated from the world that even my job allows me to begin and end the day without any form of human interaction, except from my editor, who i am required to touch base with. i got emotional connection only from fictional characters in the books i read or the things i watched. i had become so bent on trying to get by alone that i no longer even attempted to find anybody.

as i was sitting at home yesterday, going through yet another old episode of ally mcbeal (my own brand of self-torture, but that's a story for a different day), something one of the characters said got to me, about wanting love but no longer believing in it. i had always assumed that i was afraid to want love because it might not come, but i had never considered not believing in it until now. how was it possible for someone to want love and yet not to believe in it? but it was true in my case. i stopped believing in it so much that i stopped existing outside of my fort, where there were moats but no bridges. for all the thinking that i do, it never occurred to me that no one could find me even if they wanted to. i was never out. so, for the benefit of all single sad mopey girls like me, yesterday was the first day of testing my idea. i went on a date with myself.

i went all out - put on a dress, fixed my hair, even put on my makeup. then i found a nice place to go where i wouldn't run out of things to do. i had packed provisions in the form of a good book, my journal, and 20 hours worth of songs on my mp3 player. i felt a bit funny at first, walking around and watching young couples shepherding their children like cattle through easter extravaganzas. but after a while, i felt fine. i even managed to have fun. somewhere between feeling insecure that i was not a young mom and wife and wondering if i would ever get married, i managed to have fun, all by my lonesome. i went to a nice new restaurant and gave myself freedom to order anything i wanted. i consumed my meal while reading my book and writing in my journal. i went to a different one for dessert and ate tempura fried ice cream while squished between table upon table of happy couples who were feeding gyozas and noodles to each other. i survived. i got some curious looks from others, pitying (i imagine) looks from some and maybe even some interested ones (without my glasses, it was very hard to tell), but i survived. i liked it so much that i decided i would take myself out for coffee so i could finish the chapter i was reading. i really did have a great time.

for me, the lesson in dating yourself is not so much being seen or discovered by whoever it is you're looking for (though if it happened it would be a happy bonus), but in giving yourself permission to believe that you are worth the effort. to spend on at a good restaurant, because you've been dying for the excuse to try it. to make the effort of putting makeup on, or fixing your hair, of putting a great dress on, for no other reason than because you want to. that if no one asks you, you do not have to sit home and just take it. you can go out, with others if you please, and choose what to do and where to go. if you manage to get over yourself while you do, i promise that you can have a lot of fun. i know i did. so here's to a second date, a third date, and a lifelong love affair with myself, finally. i am enough of a reason to celebrate. this is my way of believing in love again, i suppose. i believe it is possible, or at the very least, worth making an effort for.

how to be single

2011-04-10T16:15:00.003+08:00

i just finished reading a book entitled the same way, and im not quite sure how i feel after reading it. this post is not going to be a review, but for most part a general wondering of why i felt the way i did while i read the book. it is essentially a 38-year-old woman's journey around the world in search of how other women of the same age are single.

this book felt relevant to me because, in my entire 29 years of life, i have never ever been with somebody. i always wonder why that is, and it asked a lot of the same questions that i ask of the world when i wonder why it is that so many great women (excluding even me) are single in the world right now.

i suppose if i could answer that question, i wouldnt be single now, obviously. but i take the blame for some of it (or all of it even) for practically encasing myself in bubble wrap away from the world. i dont go out, and when i do, it is to meet single girlfriends. a lot of the time, when i do go out, i am already in my head deciding how the evening will be playing out, and somehow in spite of my best-ever intentions, i play the role of the saddest, most single, uncouple-able girl in the world. too often, even as i get dressed i wonder why bother? who will be looking at me when my hotter, thinner friends are around. countless friends tell me i am only comfortable and up to my antics when there is no danger of being discovered by someone else. why is that? is it because i am so afraid of performing in front of a new audience? of being booed off the stage? of being told i am in way over my head?

i dont know if i am to be comforted by the thought that even at 38 years old, single women around the world feel as lonely and as hopeless as i do. i reveled at characters, who refuse to settle for anything but the fluttery feeling of being in love. i suppose, even in life i am that way. many have called me "flaky" because of my apparent inability to stick to things. not first jobs, nor second jobs. while i cannot identify with specificity what it is i am passionate about, it is always rather clear to me what i cannot fathom; not bad behavior, not joyless texts, not arrogance, not self-righteousness. am i single because i am the same way about love? i know i cannot rehash past relationships to find the answer; i have had none, to be honest. i have been hiding from the world, waiting for an appropriate time to live. it feels like such a waste, really. maybe in treating myself more like a product waiting to be tweaked to perfection, i am holding off on my "launch" into the world until i am certain that i am sale-able. maybe this is where the book's LOVE YOURSELF ending comes into play. i am uncomfortable because i could not. in my loneliness i often dream of escape - from my life and from my body; only to be brought crashing down by the notion that i have to be happy here first (in my life and as me in my body) before i can even begin to run. is the lesson that i will never be as perfect as i dream i could be? but then i am brought back to the question i often ask of myself as i look into mirrors day in and out: can anyone ever love me as i am now? all questions, no answers. it made me uncomfortable at seeing how blank my life really is compared to what i imagined it would be as a young girl, when i still allowed myself to dream.

nice things people have said to me lately

2011-04-06T17:15:00.003+08:00

...because these are the few things I cling to in order to keep me sane.

cng: you write well, sophie, trust that. always thought you wrote well.
cng: and i don't mean just technically
cng: i think you write well because you're a romantic and you believe in dreams and all that stuff and people need to be reminded of those kasi.

---------
from jwp:

oh you were under me --i can recommend you anywhere ") x x x

i always remember you as a wonderfully gifted student. that alone merits a good recommendation.

---------

someday soon I hope to believe this myself.

birthday blues

2011-04-03T21:10:00.015+08:00

so i turned a year older a couple of days ago. when a good friend overseas asked me how it was, i told her that it was a mishmash of nice - dare i say even surprisingly pleasant - so-so ish and heartbreaking. to me it exactly was that. i don't know what it is about birthdays (or maybe it is just me) that suddenly make us believe that if we can celebrate it the way we want we can get a handle on the days after that and live our lives exactly as we choose?

when deciding how i would be spending my birthday, my immediate response was that i didn't want a party with lots of people there. i didn't ask for anything, in fact, from anyone. to not have a party was my one birthday wish. but the forces-that-be spoke, and so i had a party, which i boycotted (with notice).

but i am glad that my birthday began with some pleasant things, which i hope will be current in the days to come. as the clock struck midnight, i was watching videos at home with my mom and eating my favorite burger. yes, a burger at midnight. a video at home. such simple pleasures that are the few things that feel like me.

but the actual day of it began with a sacrifice. i had intended to spend my morning getting pampered (i had denied so much pampering of myself when i was suffering through law school because i didn't feel like i deserved it), but against my hedonistic instincts, i acquiesced to going with my mom to represent our company at a cheese tasting event for local businesses. it turned out to be a lovely surprise. by the end of it, i was full and caloric from cheese, and from the loveliness of being surrounded in 5-star luxury.

a plate of cheeses all for me!

some of the pizzas we tried. I think this is the triple pesto (pesto base, pesto jack cheese, and fried basil on top!) and the asian style pizza with dried shrimps and sriracha (strange but edible)

this was an interesting pizza topped with apples?! and cumin flavored cheese. interesting, but not my favorite

this was what i liked the most! another strange pizza topped with a port wine reduction and creme fraiche and chives. delish!

this was my fangirl photo with mark todd aka the cheese dude. he lives the life! he tastes cheese and travels around the world to talk about it for a living! i wish i could have photographed him with his funky chef pants. wanted to make a comparison to mario batali but i wasn't sure if he liked him!

a plate stacked with cheese based goodies after the whole demo. gaaaahhh.

yes, this is where i spent the start of my birthday - had to photograph the lovely lobby of makati shang, natch.

since i am a frivolous person now, i decided to leap into my 29th year wearing a tutu that i found from the ukay-ukay. love.

some things went south after that, but here are some other snippets:

flowers and bling from a, a good friend, and tibok-tibok ice cream!

was finally able to have dinner at Zucchini, which I have been dying to do for years
Australian veal cheek risotto

food, wine and conversation with my oldest friend. it almost felt like we were grownups.

for dessert, a prune and port souffle for me, and gorgonzola ice cream for z.

i left out the not so nice parts, because ultimately, that's not how i want to remember my birthday. maybe it was childish to believe that even for just one day you could get everything you wanted and do anything with reckless abandon. suffice it to say that much like life, even in birthdays, unpleasant things happen. so my birthday was not all blue, maybe depending on where i stand, i can see the rainbow in it, if i look really, really closely.

thoughts on turning a year older

2011-03-31T01:20:00.002+08:00

trust only the people who love you. really, truly, love you.
find a way to stop being so angry, to stop caring so much about trying to
please the un-pleasable.
love yourself. please. you're the only one who's bound to.

- so maybe i havent learned a whole lot. but at the very least, i hope i can learn to love myself.

ps. never listen quietly to a roomful of people gossiping about behind your back. it will only break your heart and change the way you see people whom you thought you'd love forever.

what i would like to carry on into my 29th year

2011-03-30T02:34:00.004+08:00

wow. there is a part of me that doesn't even want to believe that i am actually 29. i thought for sure that i would be in a different place in my life by now, more sure of myself perhaps, more settled, more successful in my bid to find out my place in this world at least. but i might as well be 12 right now, only at least then i would still have been reed thin, and hopeful of the future.

while there are no significant milestones to pass for me as i turn 29, for some people the anniversary of my birth spells out the end of their lives. 3 filipinos will be executed in china today for drug trafficking, and that is sad. kids will lose parents, parents will lose children, chances for change will be lost. i used to think think capital punishment made sense until i realized that i believed in people's capacity to change more than in my need to feel secure and satisfied that wrongs are made right.

on an unrelated but still noteworthy occurrence, i found the feeling i want to carry into the my 29th year today, and by some miracle, though i had no intentions of being coherent as i wrote this, it somehow made sense. i was inside one of my favorite used bookstores today, and out of the blue a girl goes out of her way to recommend several books to me, very nicely i might add. one was actually a book i had picked out initially then put back onto the shelf; i wasn't sure i was up for a heavy period piece again. yet i was so pleased at how this stranger took a chance and went through the book titles to find books she thought i would like, and though i had no intentions of buying these 2 books in the first place i ended up getting them. if they turn out to be horrible, i will keep them on my shelf as reminders that people are inherently good, or at least, they try to be. i was so glad that girl spoke to me when she did. so few people have since i plunged into my social coma. paying P160 for those 2 books was the best money ive spent in a while i think.

so there. i guess i can be as unsatisfied as i want to be about my life; but i can't complain. there are still good people out there, and even those that aren't good at the moment have the ability to change if they wanted to. happy birthday bright eyes, one day, maybe, we will be happy, but no longer lost, you and me.

2011-03-22T11:13:00.000+08:00

Let me go.

2011-03-17T23:11:00.002+08:00

Dear Sophia,

One day, you'll see the various events of your life—even the most painful ones—with new eyes. They will be like jigsaw pieces that now all fit together. The most difficult moments of your life are the lovely shadows that now make the painting of your life utterly magnificent. Sophia, I will turn your mourning into joy, your sorrow into dancing. That's a promise.

Promise Keeper,
God,

PS. Sometimes, you don't understand, Sophia. That's okay. I don't call you to understand. I call you to trust Me.

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I wonder if I will live long enough to look upon this day and smile. For now I will pack everything up in little boxes and wait till my face grows back again.

snippets of childhood remembered

2011-03-15T01:36:00.003+08:00

almost as if by serendipity, i found myself picking up a copy of to kill a mockingbird that's been sitting on my night stand for months now. i'm on the second chapter now, but going through parts of it reminded me of my own childhood, particularly the part where Scout gets scolded by her teacher because she reads too well for Miss Caroline's tastes, and she insists on asking Scout's father to stop teaching her when he never actually did. Scout would recall how she would crawl into Atticus' lap whenever he read in his study and she would learn the words herself as his fingers ran through them.

I don't know why it is exactly (well, I have an inkling) but I've been thinking a lot about how differently parents raise their children, in particular, when they are in different stages in their lives. maybe there is a part of me that is bitter about how strict they are when they aren't sure of what they're doing, but tonight, all of a sudden, i was reminded of how good it sometimes was, even with all of the rules in place.

how i was read to nearly every night of my formative years, until I fell asleep. how they were still young enough to make up stories for me when they ran out of story books to read.

how it was still considered 'fun' to read when I was that young, gameboys and nintendos hadn't been invented yet, and so i got on with very old editions of the brothers grimm fairy tales (the gory kind! i wish i still had this book with me. i wonder if it is still in the old house, and if there is some way i could possess it), and all of the bible stories for children that were in my great grandmother's house. i remember reading and rereading them every time i visited her house for our morning coffee.

how aware i was of my observation skills, even at such a young age, so much so that i was able to fool many of the grownups living in my house into thinking that i was reading perfectly by age 3 when really i had memorized the books which i insisted be read to me over and over again.

how in spite of our humble beginnings, i would get pasalubong every night. how i loved those little boxes of sugared cereal and those imperfect mallows that they sold at my dad's office. back then, we had no concept of expensive and cheap, and so i looked forward to these treats so much!

how my dad would spend afternoons drawing things with me sometimes, and draw makeshift masks, clocks and costumes for me for school. i remember vividly one owl mask that i thought was amazing.

how they had time to call us up in the middle of the day then, to just say hello and ask how i was doing. i remember going through many minutes of 'no, you hang up first' with my mom, and how my dad would find it hard to be mad when i incessantly rang his desk or when i insisted on spinning in his chair, buzzing at invisible intercoms for secretaries to make me coffee, because I thought that was what lawyers did for a living.

how excited they were for me to try things. how i would be dragged to hotels to see miniscule entertainers (we could only afford the very last rows) and i would be treated to choco loco at manila pen, and chicken and chips at shakeys after. how we would all be excited to watch musicals together. how we had time to go biking at the circle on saturday mornings.

i wonder what kind of parents my brother and kids of his generation had. we may have been poorer when it was my turn to be a child, but it almost feels as if they had been more eager to try then than they did the second time around.

Art in My Room

2011-03-14T13:07:00.008+08:00

I love art. I love how when you look at a photo or a painting you get a sense of who the person making it is, of what they were feeling at the time they made it, and at the same time it strikes a chord in you and makes you think of how you yourself respond to what you are seeing. Over the years, whenever I've had the privilege of traveling to someplace else, instead of the usual knickknacks I find myself bringing home art from wherever I've come from. It makes so much more sense than keychains or t-shirts to me.

My room isn't that big, so it can't house a lot of "art" (the reproduced inexpensive kind actually), but it started with these 3 important works of art that I got from my trip to New York many years ago.

The first piece I bought was this reproduction of Van Gogh's Cafe Terrace at Night. I was twenty two at the time, and when I saw this painting somewhere inside one of the many Warehouse stores we visited, and seeing it stirred a feeling in me; a restlessness. I wanted to live someplace where I could come down to this every night. To be part of something beautiful and strange and dark, something that I chose for myself. I promised myself that one day I would live in a place like this, even if only for a short period of my life, where walking down the street always reminds you of how festive the world is.

The second one, I acquired (ala an art collector) from the gift shop at the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan. This is a piece called "Man Ray" by an American artist named Emmanuel Rudnitzky. What is interesting about this piece is that it is a "photo" taken without actually using a camera. It was done by triple exposing the same photo paper with different stencils on top of it, at different lengths of time. When I saw it, I liked that it captured a kiss with a perspective that you never get to see. You don't see the expressions, there is no swell of music when it happens, but the hands on the faces captures the hunger with which these two approach their kiss. It can be any two people really. The image of the smoke also made me wonder if they were causing it. Kissing has always fascinated me, much more than sex ever has. It seems more personal somehow. You have to really be in the moment to be doing it.

The third one is this piece that I got, also from the gift shop at MoMa. It is an oil on canvas titled "New York Movie" by an American artist named Edward Hopper. While I loved the colors and the style the artist used, the reason why I got this particular one was because I related very much with the girl in the painting, standing alone thinking while everyone else is having fun inside. Who is she waiting for? What is she thinking of? It reminded me of myself - how I often end up caught up in my thoughts when everyone else is living in the moment, then before I know it, everything has ended and the important bits have passed by. I read somewhere (in a Chicken Soup I think) that it's bad karma to be surrounding yourself with sad paintings, because it reinforces your negative thoughts onto your present perceptions. But I was hoping the kissing photo and the thinking photo cancel each other out, at the very least. Or that maybe one time I look at the photo there will be someone standing by the sidelines with the girl, because he prefers talking to her over watching the movie. Maybe one day.

Like I said, you gotta love art.

List: Truly Cool Things I've Done in My Life

2011-03-13T16:40:00.004+08:00

I came across a website that lets you make lists!!! EEEEEKKKK. I love lists. Here is one that I thought I would share. Reminds me that my life hasn't always been this boring.

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So my life has been at a stand-still lately. But it hasn't always been this way. There are some things that I am truly proud to have done, and it helps remembering them for times when you don't really have an idea of what to do next. This is a sampling of events that range from seemingly mundane to really woah.

*Went on a month-long tour of the country performing for a musical with reformed ex-convicts (Bagong Silang the Musical)
*Organized a university event and got interviewed and recognized by MTV Pilipinas - never got to see it though!)
*Dropped everything to go on a beaches of the Philippines roadtrip with org friends (San Juan La Union, Vigan, Pagudpud, some Pangasinan place I don't recall)
*Interned for the Presidential Chief of Staff at the Malacanang, was one of 100 graduates chosen to participate in this
*Lived in a hotel for one whole month with 100 people (for the Presidential Youth Fellowship Program)
*Organized YFC events that even I was impressed of (YFC Weeks 2002, 2003)
*Stayed at a hotel with a friend, got royally pissed, woke up puking, had breakfast buffet, puked some more, and had lunch buffet at a different hotel (all in the span of 24 hours!)
*Went on a food-trip with friends to a nearby province for Valentine's day where we:
--------> went to the Hot Air Balloon Festival
--------> had brunch at Rumpa
--------> went Shopping at a large PX Goods Store
--------> had a Boardgame picnic at a park somewhere
--------> had a Mexican fiesta Dinner at Zapata's
*Annual Valentine's Girl's Night Out with high school friends since we were sophomores in high school
*Produced, wrote for, and shot a cooking show as part of an all-girl team (too bad it didn't air, but still cool nonetheless)
*Had a car-chase with a cop (terrifying at the time, but now it's just funny to remember how the cop went 'Babae ka?!' once he realized he had been outrun by a (seemingly) sobbing girl
*Had a super fun birthday party (26th still seems to be the best!)
*Been in a different country with my best friend
*Went to law school and finished it, albeit begrudgingly and by the skin of my teeth
*Hosted people from different countries at home and toured them around the city sights. Threw a party for them too!
*Been an editor for a magazine (hated it for the most part, but it is just unreal how I was able to actually experience this!)
*Had my writing published for a popular broadsheet, twice
*Been accepted to all of the schools I've ever applied to (except for Philippine Science pala. but university wise, yes!)
*Graduated Cum Laude at the university of my dreams, with a course I truly loved
*Been part of a professional theater production (King and I, baby!)
*Hosted a university event and as a result got invited to shoot a VTR (didn't get it though, but that doesn't happen to everybody, does it?)
*Memorized (and promptly forgot after) the entire Bill of Rights section of the constitution in one morning, verbatim.
*Seen the ancient temples in Siem Reap Cambodia
*Been to the Cu-chi Tunnels in Vietnam
*Seen an actual concentration camp in Phnom Penh, Cambodia
*Seen the bejeweled Royal Palace in Bangkok
*Been propositioned by a Japanese tourist in Bangkok's red light district
*Went out for coffee alone with a stranger I've never actually met
*Carried on an internet romance with someone (ridiculous but funny)
*Had 2 actual human beings fight over me (surreal even up to now)
*Been friends for someone since I was 6 years old
*Won a poster-making contest wherein my work was (unfairly!) used for a large corporation's marketing campaign for their top selling soap. Still is!
*Went to a St. Patrick's Day parade alone and took pictures with cute and strange strangers
*Perfected a math exam at least once in my life! 6th grade, baby! Was sent to a math program because of this - blech Saturday school
*Gotten the highest exam scores of the entire batch for Social Studies Class in high school. Won certificates for this!
*Sang solo in front of thousands of people
*Stood up for myself and confronted a teacher about mistakes in grade computation
*Joined competitions every year of my grade school life and promptly lost each time (in retrospect, at least I had the guts to join! I think I lost my guts somewhere along the way)
*Actively pursued someone I thought I was in love with. (it didn't turn out great, but I miss this part of me. where did it go???)
*Spent the last 24 hours with a good friend before she got married and stopped being one of us single girls
*taught myself how to commute in Metro Manila
*taught myself how to drive in Metro Manila (like a bus driver, mehn. I think that's pretty cool)
*Been nominated for a Catholic Mass Media Award for a Public Service Announcement that I did
*Did body egg-rolls at night time in the middle of the sunken garden
*Had 'madaling araw pares' after a successful university event with good friends
*Took a 3 hour exam in 1 hour and a half to make it to a flight, and I passed!
*Got down to 19,000 platelets and lived to tell the tale
*Born with a hole in my heart, at 3.5 lbs, and I'm still alive! (the hole is closed now, but the emotional hole is still there hehehehe)
*Latched on to the underside of the car when I was 3, got dragged for about 3 meters, and emerged unscathed.
*Walked on the actual Banaue Rice Terraces (and promptly got lost for over 6 hours with my companions)
*Rode on the back of a motorcycle with no helmet while going up a mountain in the rain (Eden Nature Park, Davao, 2010)

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this list will continue to grow as I remember more things. if you want to see more of the lists I've made, the link is here.

on reading, my true friend and first love

2011-03-09T11:12:00.003+08:00

how apt that i find this blog post about reading after i've read quite a bit myself. I feel like whoever wrote this is a soulmate, because it almost *almost* feels like she has followed me around for a few days or peeked into my bag to discover my hidden desire and secret feelings for reading. so thank you, Rosemary Urquico, for verbalizing what a love affair with books feels like. and why the people that do indulge are the valuable people that they are.

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Date a Girl Who Reads - written by Rosemary Urquico (whose blog has been quoted oodles of time by many book lovers the world over)

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

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indeed.

ps. there are times when i secretly hope someone will discover the book i carry around in my bag (whichever one it may be) and strike up a conversation. why are so many people terrified of having conversations now? i wonder.

interesting things that i read lately.

2011-03-09T00:22:00.002+08:00

so I've been sick. really sick for quite some time now. it sort feels like a preview of how things will be in a few days. and it was not the fun kind of being sick where you are lovingly pelted with food and treats and given free reign over the tv from your bed type of sick either.

it started with a traumatizing work experience where i literally questioned the kind of person i was (for real). when it began no one even wanted to believe i was sick, and our lack of medical supplies (paracetamol, proper fluids, or a thermometer even) let my fever go unchecked for 2 weeks and then it morphed into asthma which then morphed into the supersickness of the year: pneumonia with complications of chronic asthma, bouts of hyperacidity and vertigo. and so now i am in a semi-permanent state of dizziness and terrified beyond belief of facing my "work" once again.

the only good thing that has come from being sick is that it has allowed me the luxury of being well enough only to read. i managed to finish Madame Bovary, which I started reading when I was still in college. I felt so grownup as I turned the last page, and as the sad story ended it made me realize how there are some people who go through life that lonely. It made me wonder how many people do get to live happy lives, actually. I've felt so unstable and so discontented with everything in my life, I've come to realize. It feels like I've been living a cartoon version of what my real life should be. in the back of my head there is this fear that this kind of life is what happens when you read too much or watch too many movies - that your own life ends up paler in comparison, so much so that no amount of real-life excitement could ever compensate. not for those orchestrated movie-montages where music swells and starlights gleam above you, where every word is carefully chosen, every frame carefully edited, lovingly put together. how can real life compete?

another interesting idea that i read is from this book Pleasure by Nikki Gemmell. She wrote about how former US Secretary of State Madeline Albright rediscovered her hatred of beef after divorcing her husband of over twenty years. She said:

"We haven't freed ourselves from the pursuit of love, despite all the feminist advances of recent decades. We never will. I wonder now, what Miss Mansfield would be more astounded by - a woman in charge of the foreign policy of the world's most powerful nation or the fact that that woman had eaten something she didn't like almost every night of her married life."

here is another interesting thought process from the same book.

"The aim: to manage your life rather than simply let it happen to you. So much unhappiness stems from a lack of control." <-- i can so relate to this. I remember going to a creative writing class where one of the guest speakers wrote a short story wherein its heroine was an insomniac who spent her nights rearranging the furniture, while her mother was asleep. i thought it was beautiful then, but it is such a mold of my own life that it seems more like a prediction than a memory.

from the same book, on driving:

"Driving gives women a great sense of strength and independence. It's no surprise that so many Muslim women are forbidden to drive. There's a subversive freedom to it, the thrill of independence."

on sex:

"Marilyn Monroe said, 'I don't think I do it properly.' What a relief to read it. No one is born a lover, it has to be learnt."

on porn:

"Porn is all about what men can do to women, rarely the other way around. It's about men exercising control over women - who are always available. Life is far messier than that. x x x I wonder if some men drift further and further into porn because it's so much easier than the challenge of a real relationship."

I just love how all of these ideas are ripe for my picking. Even when I am sick. So thank you books, for being my companions during this trying time.

no expectations

2011-02-15T12:15:00.003+08:00

for many years in college, i approached valentine's day with many expectations - there were always more prospects then, and coupled with those prospects came certain expectations of how one should behave. would there be flowers, surprise declarations of love perhaps, would it be a movie-style meet-cute where the two protagonists finally get together in slow motion. of course, none of these things happened (save for one particularly charming year when i got more flowers than i bargained for). maybe it is because i am simply not one of those girls, but in my own "real life experience" i have always been sorely disappointed by Valentine's day. i would approach it full of hope and whatnot and end it (often) bitter and cynical. maybe the romances were more imagined than real, maybe i was short of what their dream girls were supposed to be.

i suppose this is also the reason why i approach it so cavalierly now. it doesn't feel like a "thing" anymore. yesterday, i approached valentine's day with absolutely no expectations and i ended up being pleasantly surprised.

i thought i was going to spend the entire day (and night) working, but in the middle of what seemed to be endless copywriting duties, i decided to treat myself to something nice. i stepped out and bought good takeout and a few sweets, and had a pleasant lunch by myself when i got back. after all, i can't expect others to treat me nicer than i treat myself - and really, who says that single people don't deserve anything on Valentine's day? if anything, they deserve more for bravely conquering what is to be the foremost reminder of all the loving that they are lacking in their lives? my friend r and i were kidding that there should be a productivity bonus for singletons every time valentine's day rolls around, because unlike their coupled counterparts, singles are more efficient on this day, with no fluffy thoughts distracting them. but i digress. it felt good to treat myself, it felt good to realize that i could be my own valentine.

but it felt even better to realize that there is really no need to be bitter on vday if you are single. there are always super cool single friends to hang out with, if only you are up to snapping out of your bitter single funk. i spent the evening of valentines day with my oldest friend z, and we treated ourselves to lots of conversation, plenty of good food (a very girly salad composed of pink pomelos, crab sticks, caramelized pili nuts, feta cheese, lettuce, arugula, tomatoes, and alfalfa, a cold cut platter with jamon serrano, prosciutto and shaved cheese, spinach linguine with squid ink and cod roe sauce, and a bottle of a very fruity Gossips wine), and just the sense of contentment at the lives we had. i highly recommend it to those who aren't fortunate enough to have lovers when February 14 rolls around. life does not stop just because you're single. i have to constantly work at reminding myself of this.

dates

2011-02-14T01:45:00.003+08:00

so my high school barkada has been celebrating vday girl's day since we were freshmen in high school. it started when we were but scrawny girls who were just beginning to know each other.

i remember the first year we did it, my part in the celebration was to bring pink and red gummi worms for our little group to commemorate our first valentine's day together as an official barkada. we were all not yet ready for boyfriends, but it was good to know we had each other.

in the years that followed, our valentine's day celebrations took on different forms - exchange gifts and whatnots, but since we began it, it has always been tradition that we would eschew dates with boys to spend it with each other - boys would come and go (not true now for K who has a husband and a new-born - he BETTER not come and go), but you get what i mean.

it officially became vday dinner our sophomore year in college, if i remember correctly. i wish we had documented it better, because i find it to be an enriching part of our friendship to be honest - even if i am always the one constantly without an actual date to spend it with.

this year's vday was different because k now has a baby to rush home to - but it was sweet that even with the changes that a baby brings we are still able to keep some things (like this) the same.

as we saw the many couples "date" each other on this evening, it occurred to me to ask k and j what their best dates were.

j, ever the siren, topped the "best date ever" category with the memory of her first boyfriend - a very carefully planned series of surprises that started with dinner at some swanky restaurant (where everything was pre-ordered, natch), then topped off with a gargantuan bouquet of flowers that had tickets to david benoit attached to them. (i wonder why she has this effect on men - she seems to bring out the most romantic in all men she meets!)

k shared that she thought her best dates with r (now her husband) were the casual ones where they stay in and get good food delivered while watching DVDs in the comfort of their home. also a great date, in my opinion! especially if you love the one you're with.

it then occurred to me (quite by surprise actually) that my idea of the perfect date was somewhere in between j and k's. i would prefer a low-key, out of the box setting where we could both be relaxed and unstuffy and perhaps a little bit crazy. maybe a theme park, or an activity center full of random street food, punctuated by lots of walks and lots of talking and of course, some fabulous dessert and coffee in the end. sadly, ive never been on the perfect date (in whatever way, shape, or form)

this bothers me because i sense that i have yet to meet someone who i can imagine sweeping me off my feet. most of my "dates" if you can call them that are awkward date/hanging out events where you date for the sake of dating and nothing more. where are you, oh perfect date?

on the upside, at least i know i will never have to spend vday alone. it's vday already and i am not bitter! a good sign, me thinks.

conversations.

2011-02-08T02:01:00.002+08:00

I just realized I hadn't been having any. These past few months were supposed to be an exercise in self-deliberation, yet I am frustrated to say that I have failed in this goal to deliberate for myself what I am supposed to be doing. True to form, i seem to be merely shape-shifting into whatever is needed of me at the moment. And so I have spent much time servicing others' agendas, then being too exhausted to even think of my own. The most that I can attribute to moving forward with goals is that I have been reading a lot more of the things i so wanted to read. And in a sense, honing my mind into writing - though I resent that the writing I do is often not for me - if I didn't so need it, I wonder if I would indeed get up to the task of writing what I wanted to in the first place?

But I digress. In this book I am reading, a gift from a friend in Australia, I find so many beautiful examples of conversations that are so simple yet engaging. I know this book is a work of fiction, but there is a part of me that wishes that somewhere in some way, shape or form, these conversations have been had. The book is called The Powerbook by Jeanette Winterson. It is a collection of erotic short stories about a (ironically) shape-shifter who sells experiences. I was surprised to realize that it was slated to be largely erotica. But I found myself fascinated not with the sensual stuff but with the way the conversations between the lovers are crafted. Here are some of my favorite conversations in the book. They are of two people who meet as strangers in Paris, significant others of people whom they knew from their past. They end up becoming lovers. But in these exchanges, they aren't - yet. It is as if they are seducing each other with their wits, and I find it incredibly refreshing in our world of hypersex.

"She smiled and rested her arm around my shoulders. I tried to look natural.

Man: Are you usually so friendly with strangers?
Woman: Always.
Man: Any particular reason?
Woman: A stranger is a safe place. You can tell a stranger anything. (I completely agree with this)
Man: Suppose I put it in my book?
Woman: You write fiction.
Man: So?
Woman: So you won't lash me to the facts.
Man: But I might tell the truth.
Woman: Facts never tell the truth. Even the simplest facts are misleading.
Man: Like the times of trains.
Woman: And how many lovers you've had.

(Reading this right now I am reminded of this passage in an art piece I saw in one of my favorite books - The Art World of Richard Stine - in one painting he scrawled "Even lies are part of the truth." And so they are.)

Here is another:

Man: How many (lovers) have you had?
Woman: 9.48 (she said, sounding like a platform announcement)
Man: Was that the previous one or the one here now?
Woman: The one here now is not listed in the timetable (she refers to her lover in Paris, who is coincidentally also not the man in the conversation)
Man: What does that mean?
Woman: It means I'm married, but not to him.
Man: Then to whom?
Woman: Oh, to a man built like a dining car - solid, welcoming, always about to serve lunch.
Man: Don't you like that?
Woman: There are nights when I prefer a couchette.
Man: Is that why you're in Paris?
Woman: And there are nights when I'd prefer nothing at all.
Man: A structure without cladding.
Woman: As you get older, the open spaces start to close up.
Man:You seemed to have slipped through.
Woman: I get reckless. I risk more than I should.
Man: Have you left your husband?
Woman: No, just lied to him.
Man: Can you lie to someone you love?
Woman: It's kinder than telling the truth.
Man: Are you still close?
Woman: As close as two people growing apart can be. x x x You keep the form and the habit of what you have, but gradually, you empty it of meaning.
Man: If you feel like that, you should leave.
Woman: I still love him.
Man: You can love someone and leave them. Sometimes you should.
Woman: Not me.
Man: Well, anyway, it's not my business.

And yet another one (I could type up the whole book, actually, but I won't, of course)

Man: There's something wrong.
Woman: With what I say?
Man: With the sweet reasonableness of it all.
Woman: You want me to storm out with nothing but a tapestry and a pair of candlesticks?
Man: I wasn't thinking about your luggage.
Woman: A friend I knew did just that. Took nothing else and left.
Man: I admire her.
Woman: You are an absolutist then.
Man: What's one of those?
Woman: All or nothing.
Man: What else is there?
Woman: The middle ground. Ever been there?
Man: I've seen it on the map.
Woman: You should take a trip.
Man: And when I get there I can go round and round in circles like everyone else.
Woman: What have I done to deserve this?
Man: You're the one who talked about risk and freedom and structure without cladding.
Woman: Meaning?
Man: Meaning you just want what everybody wants - everything.
Woman: What's wrong with that?
Man: Nothing - but you have to pay for it yourself.
Woman: So I want to have my cake and eat it?
Man: That's understandable, given your history.

***

"She laughed and took my arm, holding me to her.

Woman: I like you.
Man: Why?
Woman: You want to fight.
Man: The world is my boxing ring.
Woman: Do you have to fight everyone?
Man: Only the enemy.
Woman: Is it that simple?
Man: You can be so subtle you just tie yourself up in knots.
Woman: You can be so simple you just go nine rounds with yourself.
Man: Well yes, I do, often.
Woman: What for?
Man: To stay on my toes.
Woman: You should relax.
Man: I look silly in an armchair.(haha)
Woman: What do you look like in bed?

"I was so surprised I said nothing. Then, on the bridge not caring about anyone else, she leaned forward and kissed me. A soft open kiss."

Man: This is a bad idea.
Woman: Why?
Man: You are married to one person, in Paris with another, and we're late for supper.
Woman: You only live once.
Man: You can live as many times as you like at your own expense.
Woman: So you won't buy me supper then?

"She was laughing. She laughed at my discomfort, at my seriousness. That's how I remember her, laughing at me, on a wooden bridge in Paris."

-------------------------------------
Like I said, I wish those conversations actually happened - because they are truly wonderful. Wits like these don't come by often anymore.

There are these couple of passages that aren't conversations, but I find them written so well. The imagery used is so spot on, the pairing of words so effortless. I wish time will come when I will be able to write as well as this woman!

"Inside her marriage there were too many clocks and not enough time. Too much furniture and too little space. Outside her marriage, there would be nothing to hold her, nothing to shape her. The space she found would be outer space. Space without gravity or weight, where bit by bit the self disintegrates. X X X I had heard these arguments before. I had used them myself. They tell some truth, but not all truth, and the truth they deny is a truth about the heart. The body can endure compromise and the mind can be seduced by it. Only the heart protests. The heart. Carbon-based primitive in a silicon world."

Beautiful.

2:54 AM Feb 8, 2011

aww.

2011-01-25T10:02:00.002+08:00

how adorable is this?

reminds me a little bit when i was a little girl and i would sing to anyone who asked.

a question

2011-01-17T19:09:00.000+08:00

Dear God,

Why are things the way they are?

-Me

Grace Delivered

2011-01-06T19:14:00.002+08:00

This morning, in a gift book given to me by a good friend, I read about grace, and how it was always there within us, if we only care to look. I was wondering what today would bring, and so far it has not disappointed.

First off, I suppose just the chance to actually read and pray so early in the morning was really nice. I was talking about this the other day with a friend, about how difficult I found it to ask for help from anyone, including God, i suppose. But in the things I do, the ideas that came to me, the things I encountered, I could see how indeed, grace was there, waiting to be found.

Today, I see grace delivered in the form of a new life. A good friend, Kathy, is giving birth to her little angel right at this moment, and that baby could not be luckier. Kathy is the most encouraging, optimistic, and determined person I know. That baby will surely be loved and taken care of by her parents, and I am glad that I can be a part of her life.

Today, I also saw grace delivered to a stranger who needed it. I came across this article about a homeless man with 'a God-given gift of voice' who had fallen on hard times. When I was reading it and watching the video, I didn't feel sorry for the man at all, because I admired his honesty and his optimism to admit he was where he was because of drug and alcohol problems, but I guess it appealed to me more because I saw how unashamed he was to ask for help. And look at what that humility brought him. Just a day after his video went viral, he has been sought out by so many people wanting to give him a job. I don't know him, but I am happy he got a new lease on life. It gives me hope about the world we live in.

The link to the article is here.

Hope you encounter some grace today too!

my thoughts exactly.

2010-12-19T20:49:00.002+08:00

sing it with me!

*this is the cover of the Carpenters original, but I find I prefer Vonda's version better.
-----------------

Goodbye To Love

I'll say goodbye to love
No one ever cared if I should live or die
Time and time again the chance for love
has passed me by
And all I know of love
is how to live without it
I just can't seem to find it.

So I've made my mind up I must live
my life alone
And though it's not the easy way
I guess I've always known
I'd say goodbye to love.

There are no tomorrows for this heart of mine
Surely time will lose these bitter memories
And I'll find that there is someone to believe in
And to live for something I could live for.

All the years of useless search
Have finally reached an end
Loneliness and empty days will be my
only friend
>From this day love is forgotten
I'll go on as best I can.

And it's goodbye to love
I'll say goodbye to love.

the dream

2010-12-19T01:09:00.003+08:00

I used to always say that Christmas is my favorite time of the year. In fact, I love it so much that I start making new Christmas music mixes in January. Except that this year is turning out to be so different from what I expected it would. I feel so paralyzed with fear this year.

And so whilst in Christmases past I would make lists of Christmas gifts I wished people would give me, this year, because I don't really feel much like celebrating, I would just like to put out a few dreams into the universe.

The thought came to me as I was talking to a friend, talking about dreams. And I realized I've been rattling off dreams anyway - might as well say it out loud.

There is the dream of someone else. I heard this from You've Got Mail, obviously, but hearing it over and over again struck a chord in me again - giving me a sense of hope that I just haven't met him yet. But he exists. Someday, we will cross paths.

There is the dream of living somewhere far from here.

There is the dream of waking up and going to bed without having done anything other than your own agenda.

There is the dream of discovering the thing that I love to do. Of shaping my days into exactly the way I dream it could be.

There is the dream of being truly known by someone.

For all its worth, even as I am pondering the idea of selling out momentarily, I do believe these dreams can come true. In my lifetime, even. I really hope I wake up to them and that by then they won't just be dreams.

my Christmas wish

2010-12-18T12:45:00.003+08:00

why do i always feel like im just watching other people living their lives? i really do wish i had a river i could skate away on. and that it would lead me to someplace else entirely.

letters

2010-12-17T00:01:00.002+08:00

I love letters. I really do. I think letters from other people are some of the things I treasure the most, of everything in my room. I love how each piece of paper you find captures the person who sent it - and for a few paragraphs, you get a sense of how that person was at the exact time he wrote it. His chosen words, his handwriting, the formatting, the paper even. I find it fascinating.

It's too bad letter writing is no longer the art form it was before. I imagine people would be more civil, more precious even, if they took the time to really think about what to say, if they committed pen to paper and not just merely banged a couple of keys on their computers.

I was reminded of letters and letter writing in general after I saw You've Got Mail for the Nth time this month. As always, I got teary eyed when Meg Ryan realized she had been writing to Tom Hanks all along. I felt my insides churn when I was privy to their innermost thoughts about the inanest of things. It was a beautiful exchange. So full of the personality that people often forget to have when they're talking to people they are actually familiar with. I mean, admittedly, it's true for me. I find I am truest when I am with new people. I feel like I have no standard in their heads that I have to live up to. It's strange really, how there are voids between the worlds in which I can feel familiar and unobtuse. Like there is this brief window of time in my relationships wherein I can be myself (sometime between newness right before actual familiarity). After that I just became stranger and stranger to the point where I am so strange that I am just too much to fathom.

But when I write, I somehow feel unhinged, but in a good way. Like for once, I can be free to say as I think, without being constrained to consider how I sound, or how I look when I say it. Ironic that what I like about my own writing is what I dislike about the way other people write now. (I imagine this thought process now only makes sense to me). Maybe it's more accurate to say that I enjoy how people are better versions of themselves in letter form than they are when left to their own thoughts & wit, real time. With the exception of me of course. It is a well-known fact that I can almost never say what I think when I am in the moment. My end of conversations are completed only when I am already in the car, halfway home after they are actually had. I wonder why that is? Over dinner the other night, my friend said she thought I had whole conversations in my head as the actual conversations were happening, and the reason why I was so quiet was because I was already prejudging in my head what the other person would be thinking of my unsaid & hypothetical responses. (more on that terrifying conversation on a different day, or maybe later, as it seems obvious i am in a mad frenzy to write gibberish tonight - FINALLY!)

but i digress. I don't know if I love writing more because it is one of the very few times I can really reveal who I am at the exact moment I am feeling things, or if it is because I feel it is the most real and personal people can get - because no one but the receiver is privy to what they say.

i was going to post part of what was the last remaining email of someone i wrote a lot to way back when I thought I knew who I was. But, as it turns out - everything seems too personal to share, and all the others, have been deleted from my inbox. in retrospect, I wish I hadn't deleted them. all I have now are letters from my side of the conversation. It's strange to be thinking about those letters now, but I find it refreshing to remember that there was a part of my life that was shared mostly through conversations like that - in letter form, documenting things we read, things we saw, things we thought. and undocumenting things we felt. it feels very strange indeed. dare i say, i miss it. I don't know what about it exactly, but I do miss it.

i've been reading and rereading that last letter for quite some time now. strange how i keep coming back to it. really strange.

plans

2010-12-16T23:39:00.002+08:00

what is it about this phase? it feels like an out of body experience. i wonder if everybody who takes time off from living feels like this. as days pass i wonder if inspiration will hit me, and try to figure out how it will hit me, and so i run myself ragged trying to read and watch and see and live. i always imagine that inspiration of what i am to do with my life will hit me when i am doing something fabulous, something wonderful that when i look back on it will make me sit up and say 'hey, i remember when i knew that i wanted to rule the world - it was after that third glass of merlot i had when i was picnicking with logan (current fantasy male who lives inside my head).

but it is so far from that. i feel like even now, as i am forcibly derailing myself from life as i knew it, i am derailed from my plans of derailment altogether. mainly because life as it turns out (or my life, to be more specific) is very rarely ever that glamorous, and more particularly, because real life requires real things like money and routine for it to be, well, livable. so rather than running off from trip to trip and discovering my life's purpose whilst sipping a mimosa on some beach somewhere, i lock myself in my room day in and day out - reading, writing, watching. and then when i am reminded of something wonderful and try to remember when it happened, i realize that it didn't actually happen to me, but to some fictional character who lived it in a book or in a show that i was just fortunate enough to watch. is it all life that's dreadfully boring, or is it just my life that is? shouldn't books and shows be reminding me about my life and not the other way around?

how is it possible that i have lived more through fictional people this year than through my own flesh and thought?

which gets me back to my frustration at planning. in my head there should be a line that indicates when my transition period begins and ends. that there should be some sort of guidepost that tells me when i have succeeded and when i can move on to the next thing. does it not work that way? am i to just jump in, head first into everything and say goodbye to the dream of organized progress? i wonder. maybe i should. for all the good it's done me, i have gotten practically nowhere waiting for a plan to form in my head. indeed, maybe, i should just do, and then plan around what happens after that.

maybe it's time to be alive again. alive in a chaotic, social world that contains someone other than me. just the thought of it makes me extremely terrified.

in loving memory

2010-11-24T12:26:00.006+08:00

A beloved member of the family passed away recently, after a long battle with cancer. She has barely been gone a week, yet we all feel the quiet that her passing has brought. The grief we felt upon her passing was immediate and truly heart-striking. She made her mark on everyone she met, and on the day of her funeral, everyone could see how deep a mark she made on everyone she met - from her immediate family, to her extended family, her friends, her neighbors, and her staff. She was a remarkable woman, and she will surely be missed.

I was asked to write a tribute to her from our clan, to be read the night before her burial. Because there were too many from our family who wanted to speak about how great she was, we decided to encapsulate it all in one tribute. Writing it was my contribution, my little way of helping celebrate her life and her legacy.

I've written many things, but in my 28 years, this is the first time I wrote a eulogy. I thought it would be extremely difficult. But having such a vibrant subject, so beloved by all made it easier. There were too many wonderful memories, in fact. The difficulty came only when one remembers that there will be no new memories to be had with her. So as a way of remembering, here is my tribute to our beloved Tita Mel.

----------------------------------------------

For Ate Mel

If there is one word which could sum up who Ate Mel was as a person, I think that word would be grace. Tita Mel was grace personified. She was very beautiful physically, but more than that, it was the way she carried herself and lived her life that made her all the more beautiful. And believe me, it is hard to remain graceful in a clan full of feisty Kapampangans where you need to up your speaking voice by several decibels just to be heard. Indeed, our beloved Ate Mel brought some much needed grace to our rowdy clan.

In the same way that the word grace takes on many meanings, so did Ate Mel play different roles in the lives of the many members of the Nulud clan. She came into our lives with such ease that it feels almost impossible to remember how it felt like before she was a part of it. Even though we aren’t related to her by blood, she was very much a part of the family, even before she officially became Mrs. Nulud. Belle, her youngest sister-in-law remembers her fondest memory of her Ate Mel, which was when they visited her as a young girl in the Girl Scouts camp in Manila. It is very hard to make an impression on a child who grew up with 11 strong personalities, but in just that first meeting Ate Mel’s caring and nurturing personality won the devotion of her future husband’s little sister. And she has only continued to grow in grace since then.

As with grace, Tita Mel has continued to exercise love and kindness to all members of the family without fail. As a wife, her sisters-in-law remember how supportive and encouraging she was to their brother. Ate Ginn remembers how in the tougher years of their marriage, Ate Mel would get teary-eyed every time Kuya Noel would come walking home from the Church, because he had stopped to pray to God in order to be able to provide better for their family. She was faithful to her God, and she was grateful to Him for providing her with a husband who knew how to kneel before God. In the good times, as in the bad, she was never spiteful, never calculating, never withholding with her love - she loved him completely, unconditionally.

As with grace, Tita Mel had an inherent excellence about her; she was a natural at everything she did. As both a CPA and a Medical Technician, she was accomplished, to be sure, but as a mother, she was brilliant. We all saw how gracefully Tita Mel raised her five boys to be the great men they are today. Their persons are all a testament to her hard work and her prayers. They are not only all smart and good looking like her, but you need only to look at how they carried themselves around her to see how great a job she did. Her sons are loyal, respectful, mild-mannered and loving. They are the kind of men people wish their daughters would meet.

As with grace, Tita Mel constantly bestowed favor on our family. As a sister-in-law marrying into an oversized family, she never resented the fact that there were always too many of us to give presents to. She always relished being part of our big family by saying ‘masaya din siya kasi marami rin ang magbibigay ng regalo sa kanya’. She was always positive in that way. She was always generous with her time, constantly traveling to Manila all the way from Masantol in order to be part of our many family milestones. In difficult times, her sisters-in-law would often go to her first, ahead of their own brother because they knew she welcomed opportunities to help others whenever she could. Ate Fely, our oldest sister remembers the time she helped their family by allowing them to live in their home in San Sebastian, and by giving them the rice subsidy she got when Kuya Abel lost his job. Hindi siya maramot, hindi siya makwenta. With her, you never felt like you were overextending your welcome. She never belittled anyone who asked her for help, even when it was not easy for her to give it.

As with grace, Tita Mel had an easy elegance of manners. In all the family gatherings we have spent with her, we never once saw her not fixed, not composed. Dette, her eldest niece, remembers how the word glamorous always came to mind whenever she saw her Tita Mel walk into a room. She always made an effort to look her best, yet in spite of her obvious beauty she remained one of our most approachable Titas. She was the perfect example of good breeding, which admittedly, we all had a lot to learn about, rough around the edges as we all were. We never saw her lose her temper or speak badly about anyone. She was always very thoughtful and very doting. Bigay hilig siya lagi. She knew each one of us by name, and knew all of our likes and dislikes. During the highly anticipated Masantol town fiestas, even before anyone could ask, she would already wrap and set aside each of our favorite foods for us to bring home. As you can see, even with the little things, she never failed to put her mark in each of our lives.

As with grace, Ate Mel never forgot to give thanks. She thanked our family for taking care of her children when they came here for their schooling. She thanked her nieces for being the sisters her sons never had. She was also very gracious. She always knew what to say in order to make you feel comfortable. Even when she was sick and we would visit her in the hospital, she always put the comfort of her visitors before her own. She would tirelessly ask if we were okay, never letting on that she was in pain, if she could. She always wanted everyone to be at ease around her.

It is bittersweet that today is one of the few family reunions that our beloved Ate Mel is not with us. Each of us here feels the emptiness that her absence brings. But we must all take comfort in knowing that she has gone ahead to a better place. After so many years of bringing warmth and comfort to our family, it is now her turn to be comfortable, resting at the feet of her God.

I read somewhere that ‘To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die,’ and I think this is truest today. Today, as we mourn the loss of our beloved Ate Mel, we must honor her life by trying to live our own with a little more grace. So let us all sit up a bit straighter, treat each other a little milder, and conduct ourselves with a little more kindness and refinement. Let our lives be a celebration of the lessons of grace that Ate Mel has taught us.

music and lyrics

2010-11-23T00:02:00.002+08:00

This seems to be how I've been getting by lately. I've been occupying my time finding soundtracks for my days and words to live by. In my cloistered hermit-like state, I find that it is words and music that have sustained me through these long days of wondering.

These past two weeks have been a blur, thanks in part to a surprise trip to Davao with good friends and unfortunately, to the passing of a loved one. Around these very different events, what bound them together was my writing. I had to double up on the writing to be able to pay for the trip, and then when I came back I was asked to write the eulogy for an aunt that passed away. How ironic it is that it's in writing about her death that I am reminded of how I am alive, and how I should be doing more with my days. And so from my self-induced social coma, I somewhat came alive in the need to honor her life with words.

This is a welcome development considering that I have been uncomfortably close to feeling very much like the heroine in my book of the moment, Madame Bovary. I was becoming a little bit bothered by how I empathized with her boredom with her own life, that she could only feel alive by physically engaging herself, beginning with holding fire-hot tongs, to swathing herself in expensive fineries, to sleeping with men she found more fascinating than her husband. It is funny how I thought of these things while climbing up a mountain trail on the back of somebody's motorcycle, without a helmet no less, holding on for dear life. It was one of the many modes of transportation in Davao called the 'habal habal'. With my hair flowing behind me, my skin cooled by the mountain air, my fingers digging into the shoulders of the strange man driving the motorcycle, it was certainly the most alive I felt in a long time. I worried that I would be overcome by the desire to swathe myself in silk and bed strange men. I kid of course. (I hope.)

But in truth, I feel the same amount of aliveness when I read compelling words or hear good music, even as I pass my days just sitting and writing in front of the computer. I've been writing down several that I've found fascinating, and in a way, the beauty of how the words are put together makes me feel privileged to have read them. Here are some of my favorites:

"Part of the blessing and the challenge of being human is that we must discover our own true God-given nature. This is not some noble, abstract quest but an inner necessity. For only by living in our own element can we thrive without anxiety. And since human beings are the only life form that can drown and still go to work, the only species that fall from the sky and still fold laundry, it is imperative that we find that vital element that brings us alive...the true vitality that waits beneath all occupations for us to tap into, if we can discover what we love. If you can feel energy and excitement and a sense that life is happening for the first time, you are probably near your God-given nature. Joy in what we do is not an added feature; it is a sign of deep health." - Mark Nepo, Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want By Being Present to the Life You Have

"Cliche is, in a sense, the purest art of intelligibility; it tempts us with the possibility of enclosing life within beautifully inalterable formulas, of obscuring the arbitrary nature of imagination with an appearance of necessity. Thus, the drifting of imagination among its unaccountable fancies is checked not by the adherence of words to reality, but by the ideal unreality of a language which disciplines the mind by making it merely predictable." - Leo Bersani, Madame Bovary: An Introduction

"When passion feels so out of reach, curiosity can be a calming diversion." - Elizabeth Gilbert, on passion

"Nobody trips on mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble. Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain." John Maxwell, Your Roadmap to Success

And then, for when I am out of words I find myself calmed by music. It has been such a random sampling ranging all the way from Pearl Jam to alternatives like Spoon and Sam Isaacs to French country music, which is my latest love. Yesterday, I spent the whole afternoon in thought, half-pretending I was in St. Tropez sipping cocktails on the beach. Here are some of my favorites:

Even though I can't understand the words, just listening to the music makes me feel like running through a meadow or finding someone to hold hands with. I am grateful that I have both words and melodies to keep me company, and to make me feel alive.

alive.

2010-11-08T11:51:00.003+08:00

I have been feeling so strange these past few days. I couldn't place what it was that was wrong, yet I have been walking around with the strangest feeling in my gut, that churling (churning and wanting to hurl) feeling that you get when you left something important at home, or when you remember that you had something to do but didn't. But I couldn't figure out what it was.

With my life being particularly uneventful (about a hundredfold more than it usually is), I feel like I am slowly degenerating into nothingness, and it just occurred to me yesterday that this is my body's way of telling me that, contrary to my belief that I am slowly morphing into a zombie, that I feel so much despite doing so little is the Universe's way of reminding me that I AM STILL ALIVE.

Perhaps, this could explain the overwhelming sense of emotion I get when I watch movies, or hear songs - I get this feeling of wanting to stand up and run as fast as I can, away from this fort I have built around myself. Now that I have finally succeeded in separating myself away from the rest of the world I sometimes feel so cloyed by having myself as my only companion. It's ridiculous how the only way I get to feel things now is by listening to songs or that my source of connection to humanity lies in tapping into the lives of fictional characters.

And all throughout this immersion, I get that gnawing feeling, reminding me that I forgot that this isn't how life is supposed to be. Maybe one of these days that gnawing feeling will actually prompt me off my seat and give me courage to dive head first into everything I've been steeling myself against.

the whole lah-dee-dah

2010-10-10T22:01:00.004+08:00

so i found myself going to 2 different weddings in two different provinces during this whirlwind of a weekend.

weddings for me are very tricky. i find myself very much conflicted between feeling happy that i am single and then dastardly that i myself have no marriage prospects. (or rather, feeling dastardly at having to explain to the kindly aunt, friend, or tita who inevitably asks me when my turn will be that i am not really in a hurry to get married - NOT IN THE LEAST BIT).

to be honest, even though i am "at the marriageable age", those who have known me in recent years know that i have since shed my rose-colored glasses and am, for the most part, deathly afraid of marriage. sure, the wedding is the fun part, and whenever i am at one it is but normal for me to look around and compare how my own (if ever) wedding will be. but i suppose all girls do that, and it harks more to my party throwing desires than to have a wedding, to be honest. but it's the after the wedding that i can't shake. what do you AFTER? forever?

it's just that while i don't condemn those who dive in head first into marriage (or question their judgment even), i cannot imagine being married without the safety net that is divorce. maybe i am a pessimist, maybe i am a realist, but i do believe that people who are miserably married shouldn't have to stay together forever just because they are (married, i mean).

i realize that it is this notion of "forever, for better or for worse" that makes marriage such a romantic undertaking - the thought of choosing to be with your partner regardless of the incidentals is surely noble, to say the least. but is it practical? of the few things that i know to be true in my life, the fallibility of man's judgment rings certain. change, be it in the form of circumstance or personality, is another. i am not saying that every marriage becomes miserable at one point later in the day, or that there are no people who find themselves in happy and lasting marriages for the entirety of their lives. but life is too short for you to devote your life to someone so unlike the person you first fell in love with. at least that's my opinion.

but i digress. being faced with this paranoia about marriage always brings me to this question while i sit at weddings: feeling the way i do about marriage, do i still believe in true love?

ironically, i would have to say i do. and though i protest at the fact that we are one of only 4 (or 2? ive lost count) countries in the world without divorce, my being invited to weddings in spite of this lack is the best proof of true love i suppose. that people are willing to bet their whole lives that the person they chose to marry is one that they will love and be loved by forever, without any safety nets or easy outs, is the best evidence that true love exists.

and so when friends decide to marry, i will put on my dress and put on my face and put on a smile and celebrate. celebrate the fact that in spite of my cynicism, and although i am ruled by fear, in my universe there are still times that true love wins over fear, and that i saw it live in my lifetime.

half-awake

2010-09-30T08:56:00.002+08:00

somehow i feel very far away from myself, running around the remainder of my 20s in this trance-like state. who is this person? what is she doing?

purga

2010-09-17T11:32:00.002+08:00

sometimes it is hard to know where to look for your next surge of inspiration.

it seems as if the entirety of the past few years has been a mistake.

what do you do when there is no hope, when you cannot push, when you cannot walk or talk to anyone?

what do you tell yourself to fall asleep at night, to wake up in the morning, to find something to embrace during the day?

who do you go to when you cannot even bear to look at yourself, how do you put on your face, put one foot in front of the other, find hope that you will not be paying for your mistakes for the entirety of your life.

who do you talk no when no one will listen, when no one will ask, when everyone has an opinion.

how can you bear the stench of mediocrity when everyone is surging ahead?

i am exhausted of carrying these on my shoulder. and so i purge them here, in the wish of lighter hours, of better sleep, of finding hope.

just breathe.

2010-09-06T23:11:00.003+08:00

in and out. literally take one step at a time. ask yourself if you like where you're going after this whole madness has taken place.

i don't know what to think anymore.

bright eyes

2010-08-06T01:25:00.003+08:00

someday soon you will wake up to find that i have been here all this time. waiting, knowing, becoming. sometimes, i grow tired of this process, and while i am waiting (it seems, for nothing), knowing (only my aloneness), becoming (more cynical by the day) it is only the thought of you that sustains me. and then i am back on our path again. hopefully, this one will take me to you.

while i walk under our trees and sing myself our songs, i will look furtively at everyone i come across and hope to see your face, and even though today i thought i saw you, but didn't, i know. one of these days i will look into the distance and i will know - each step will be ready, each glance will be sticky, and i will no longer care that i keep smelling like food and not flowers or that everyone else is looking at the silly girl with the big grin doing all but running, and i will look into your eyes and see home.

what does your heart hope for?

2010-07-29T23:11:00.003+08:00

sometimes i wonder if i have become too screwed up from reading too many magazines. the kind that lead you warily on many different paths. the kind that advise you to be picky. then to not be too picky. then to settle for nothing less than fireworks. then to be realistic about your expectations. on some level, i suppose i just want someone who will get me.

sometimes it seems like we are always on the lookout for something other than what we need. but lately i have been reminded that it is the simple things that mean the most.

yesterday at pi and ejay's wedding, i was sitting beside charles and kaye and i was mildly amused to see them holding hands during the ceremony. and i thought how nice it must be to have someone to hold hands with.

when i was in hawaii last year, i saw my cousin and her husband quietly hold hands when they thought no one was looking. and even though i saw many public displays of affection on their part and even heard some very poorly disguised dirty talk (haha), i have never seen them more in love than at that moment when they were holding hands in the dark.

there may be a lot of things that i am afraid to believe in at the moment, but sometimes i wonder if it is not too bad to allow my heart to hope for these two things: someone who will get me, and someone who will want to hold my hand.

i know, i know.

2010-07-18T23:46:00.000+08:00

how hard can it be?

2010-07-12T00:23:00.003+08:00

last night, over sushi with good girlfriends (i kid you not, it was very sex and the city minus the promiscuity) we ended up talking about "love", as we often do.

our topic of choice was "plotting"our good friend's unfolding love story, and much discussion was had on plans of action (or inaction), and while i won't discuss the sordid details, I kept on thinking to myself, is it really this hard for people to find love? should it really entail this much effort?

i was weaned on many great and dramatic love stories, from your garden-variety fairytale to the epic starcrossed lovers-type, but the ones i ended up loving the most are the simplest ones - where outside of the dramatic meet-cutes and the slow motion meeting of the eyes - some very ordinary circumstances bring about the most extraordinary of experiences. and somehow from there every "average" is made great.

i truly believe that great love, real love, should be had without a significant amount of pain and effort on our part. nothing should be that hard. now it makes me wonder if we are asking too much out of fate and circumstance in looking for all the hoopla that comes our view of romantic love.

its the person that will make it romantic, after all. must give this more thought.

sunday slowdown

2010-07-11T13:23:00.003+08:00

I'm sitting in my room, with the sunlight streaming in mildly through my yellow curtains. Harry Connick Jr. sings soulfully in the background, and though I am here trying to get through a book on taxation I keep thinking to myself how much I enjoy Sundays.

Saturday carries with it the pressure to be epic, and then it brings heart-breaking disappointment when you do not spend it getting trashed on a dance floor somewhere, grinding with some strange and exotic person, partying hard because you are not that kind of person, really. though i sometimes wonder how it would feel to be that kind of person for a day, for me even the most enjoyable Saturdays are very much like my Sundays, slow-paced and leisurely, filled with good food, coffee, actual conversations and restful moments.

It sometimes makes me wish I lived in a time when even weekdays were this slow, when we weren't so distracted being pummeled by ads and shows and stores and the new-fab-weekend-thing-to-do left and right, and days started slowing down at 6, and people had actual conversations and not just phone calls and texts in transit.

i have this image of a perfect sunday somewhere in my future. me, cooking pancakes and grinning at the laughter of happy little children in the background, and feeling that everything is finally, enough. so much enough that the world can afford to stand still and if that were the last moment ever I would not have anything more that I could wish for.

oh sunday. look at what you do to me. let us just watch clouds and enjoy the moment, shall we?

in search of a vision

2010-07-06T23:22:00.002+08:00

as my future gets closer everyday, it also simultaneously seems to get fuzzier. i do not know how to move forward. i do not know what to pursue, if it will all become okay in the end, even if I have to fail or let go of that vision.

I do not know how to move forward at the moment. Everything looks cloudy and uncertain.

grace

2010-06-29T00:06:00.002+08:00

all of a sudden one of my favorite words. I've always just seen grace, but never tried to put it in words. after a quick trip to the dictionary, I've discovered that my favorite meanings of grace are:

-an elegance and beauty of movement or expression
-a disposition to kindness and compassion
-to dignify or raise by an act or favor
-the prerogative of mercy
-thanks

all such beautiful meanings aren't they?

I hope, that with everything that comes my way, that I accept them graciously, and that I can be as gracious with others as the universe is with me.

questions and answers

2010-06-20T23:48:00.003+08:00

so i've been reading a lot at night lately, and unfortunately, not the kind of reading that i should be doing at the moment - but enlightening reading nonetheless. i suppose along with the other fortuitous things that's been happening to me (surplus writing jobs, random invitations to write for major papers etc etc etc) the universe had to step in to save me from myself (or rather my self-destructive cycle of no sleep and too much internet). and so my laptop gave out right in the middle of ending my transportation law review.

but i treasure the new time ive been given to read things...and in bed i find myself with new ideas for plowing forward. today i came across several that enlightened me.

when you're stuck in a rut trying to answer your life's questions, maybe you should consider if you are asking the right question. maybe your life is the answer to something else. in the article, the author's question to herself was beautiful: Is there someone you forgot you wanted to be?

Maybe I have been so consumed with answering my own questions that I just forgot to be somebody altogether. In the time it takes me to question why I do what I do with my day, I find the day just passes me by.

And then yet another lovely thought presented itself to me in a different article. There it said that the author's answer to the question 'How can God exist if bad things happen?' is the grace with which people who experience tragedies try to get past them. I can't even add to that answer, it's so beautiful already. When I spend my time questioning everything that occurs, other people gracefully just move past them.

I wonder what things I do with grace, if any?

Well, perhaps I can attempt to at least let go with grace and move on with grace. Maybe there can even be grace in the attempt.

p.s. thank you universe for finding some way to let an old dream live. i wrote in a planner somewhere that i wanted to write an article for a broadsheet somewhere and here you are just putting it in my lap. i feel the sky smiling upon me tonight.

how not to be defined by your limitations

2010-06-19T10:50:00.003+08:00

i've always tried to guard against not being defined by my limitations, but what often times happens is that fear limits me. fear.

what at inconsequential reason to not be doing great things with what you've been given.

last night, i was reading, and i read about this woman who bought a building to develop all by herself and thought she might be in over her head, but then she said, would my life be as interesting if i don't do it? and i thought, what an interesting way to make major decisions. another article mentioned that, though there are many valid reasons for not doing things - practicality, availability of better options and whatnot, fear should never be one of them.

today i read about this inspiring autism student who graduated Salutatorian of his high school. it put things in perspective for me as to what really were valid reasons for not trying and what were not. the link to his speech is here.

there's a lot more i need to learn about trying harder, to be sure.

sparks of human contact

2010-06-13T22:36:00.002+08:00

so i have been incommunicado for quite a while. i wish i could attribute it all to studying, but a lot of it is also me berating myself for the inability to focus. i always end up tending to my neuroses and then before i know it, the entire day is gone with no progress in sight.

in between those days, i find little tidbits that remind me that in spite of this thing i am dreading, life goes on.

like how the other morning, at breakfast, my mom said one of the most important things she learned from being in the restaurant business is that people are good. she pointed out that in the many people who come to eat at our business everyday, there are so many of them who are kind enough to offer words of encouragement, or to go out of their way to give feedback and critique.

people are good. it's a lesson i need to relearn for myself i guess. i feel like ive forgotten.

what's your purpose?

2010-05-28T11:36:00.001+08:00

i love getting these great ideas about living when i read. I've been reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle (such a cool name) for a while now, and truth be told, I've had such a difficult time getting it that I literally can only sit and read it one very short sub-heading at a time (never more than 2-3 pages each). But for all its verbosity, I have gotten some great ideas that thankfully stuck to me: your purpose is to realize that all you have is now. Live every moment with purpose, not just a future one, but for now, in the present moment. So many of us make the mistake of living for a future purpose that we forget that we have now to live for too.

If you walk across the room, then with every step you take, the fact of your taking the step is the primary purpose, and the fact of getting there is merely secondary. I guess it is similar to the idea that every decision that you make everyday is your life. And so you cannot just rely on a future happy ending to define your life, you have to be happy now. Right now is your life. Find some way to live purposefully not just to meet some future end goal, but to satisfy your existence today.

Admittedly, sometimes this kind of "live now" mentality takes me astray from my impending future goal which is to pass the test that will make me a lawyer. Like stopping to spend time with a friend and watch a movie. Or a long conversation with a friend whom you know needs it. Sometimes, deciding on your purpose feels incredibly indulgent. Sometimes it feels just right. Maybe your purpose comes to you. In the form of a friend in need, in the form of tasks needing to get done. Perhaps if we lived less cerebrally, we would be more fulfilled. Maybe if we embraced uncertainty we would surprisingly find ourselves more aware.

I think it was just fortuitous that I found this guy who just up and decided that he would quit his job to literally walk all the way around America. He's not doing it for any particular cause, only that he knows that walking makes him sublimely happy. Below is a repost of the article I read about him, and a link to his own personal website which he updates with photos of great finds along the road. I think it is just apt for my thoughts today.

-----------------------------------------------

Adventurer leaves NY career to walk across US

By MARTHA IRVINE, AP National Writer Martha Irvine, Ap National Writer – Thu May 27, 9:10 am ET

AVALON, Wis. – In these uncertain times, most of us cling to the things that make us feel secure. Those who have jobs give thanks. We hug our children a little tighter. We wait — and hope — for better times.

So when someone like Matt Green comes along, we shake our heads a little and wonder. Who is this young man, bearded and weather-worn, pushing a cart down a country road, mile after mile? And why would he abandon a solid career as a civil engineer — a roadway designer, ironically — to walk all the way across America?

"Good question," he concedes to those who frequently ask about his motives.

Unlike others who've made cross-country treks, Green is not looking to break a record of any kind. Nor does he want to draw attention to a particular cause. He has no agenda, other than the handwritten list of directions he regularly compiles from Google Maps, in the event his cell phone can't access them from remote areas.

No, for Green, there's just something about the act of walking that makes him really happy, much more content than he ever would have been in his office cubicle in Manhattan, where he used to daydream about doing something epic like this.

On the road, there's a simple purpose to each day, he says. There is camaraderie with the people he meets along the way. There is excitement in discovering what's around the next bend.

"Playing it safe isn't really that safe," he has concluded. "If you do that, you miss out on a lot of the great things life has to offer."

For him, making this journey is freedom.

Green, a 30-year-old Virginia native, began his walk in late March at Rockaway Beach, a seaside neighborhood just south of New York's Kennedy Airport. The goal: Make it to Rockaway Beach, Ore., just over 3,000 miles to the west.

By air, the trip takes a little more than six hours. Green figures it will take him about six months. He started planning more than a year ago, saving money by living frugally and designing a rolling cart to carry his tent, sleeping bag and the fewest supplies possible.

On days off, he also prepared by leading groups on long walking tours in New York City, where he lived for five years. The routes he chose enabled people to see the city in new ways. He started them off at 6 miles, or 8, and worked them up to even longer distances. The groups steadily grew. People begged him to plan more neighborhood treks. And his own love of walking, and the connections that could be made at a slow, almost meditative pace, deepened.

So when Green told his walking buddies he planned to do a cross-country trip, they were among the few who "thought it was the coolest thing they'd ever heard."

Others, including his parents, weren't as convinced.

They worried about his safety, that he'd get hit by a car or attacked. They also wondered whether their eldest should be more settled in his life.

"For my generation, stability meant something different," says his dad, Barry Green, who lives in Ashland, Va., with Green's mom, Miriam.

In his day, there was more of a premium placed on sticking with a job and moving around less.

Not that he didn't have his own wanderlust, at least for a time. The elder Green remembers how, as a young man — even younger than his son — he saved up money, bought a car and did his own traveling. His own mother would wait by the telephone for him to call.

Now he and Miriam find themselves watching each night for an e-mail that comes when their son pushes the "I'm OK" button on an emergency beacon that transmits his exact location by satellite. Green also carries pepper spray and a stick to fend off attacking dogs. So far, he hasn't needed them.

He understands his parents' trepidation and does what he can to allay their fears, without giving up this adventure.

But for now, he's less concerned about stability, or preparing for something far off like retirement, especially in a time when so many people are having to put off that retirement, anyway.

"What's the point of living the majority of your life preparing for that last little bit?" he asks.

And so, he walks, up to a personal record of 28 miles each day, reloading on food — his main expense — when he passes through small towns.

In the West, he figures there will be five-day stretches with few signs of civilization. But even now, in the Midwest, his directions sometimes take him on hidden roads that most people would miss.

On one secluded stretch near Avalon, Wis., he happened upon a dairy farm with a large garden across the road. A handmade sign above it read: "Welcome Visitors — Gloria's Garden Tours Anytime."

Green knocked on the door. The owner was 84-year-old Gloria Ransom, who was more than happy to show him the garden she'd planted and tended for years.

"My kids would tell me not to talk to strangers, but I don't care. I like to think that everybody is good," she told Green, as she pointed out bright red poppies and other plants and flowers.

"Heaven sakes," she said, "nobody who wants to go through your garden is going to rob you."

She invited him into her grand old farmhouse. She showed him her quilts and paintings and photos of her many grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

She even pulled out an old photo from a trip she made out West with her family in 1937, when she was 11. The mode of transport was a Ford "Model A" that pulled a camping trailer — a rig the adults in the group sometimes had to push up the steeper terrain.

Whether it was that trip or something else, Gloria understood the allure of a trip like Green's. And when he left, she seemed genuinely sad to see him go.

It's the type of connection Green has found repeatedly on this trip — another lesson, says the self-proclaimed introvert, in taking chances and stepping outside his comfort zone.

"The people I've met who've had no fear of me, they generally seem to be really happy people," he says. "I just hope I can return that kindness to others."

Jason Eppink, a 28-year-old assistant museum curator who met Green through the walks he led in New York, says Green's journey is "obviously a personal project, but I don't think it's a one-way street."

Green, says Eppink, is "able to touch people."

Each night before the sun sets, Green counts on that ability, knocking on farmhouse doors to find a place to pitch his small tent.

He doesn't always get a "yes." But night after night, there is always someone who takes an interest in this young stranger and his quest, including Liz and Ron Struzynski, a bank worker and laborer who live outside Milton, Wis.

"I don't suppose you've watched 'Forrest Gump,'" Ron Struzynski said, chuckling as he compared Green — as many people have — to the movie character known for his penchant for running.

Green grinned and nodded, as he went to set up his tent near the couple's newly planted vegetable gardens.

The Struzynskis let him charge his cell phone and fill up his water bottles. He washed up in their barn, and they invited him in for a meal.

"He's more than welcome, heck," Liz Struzynski said. "It takes a lot of courage to do what he's doing."

Back in Virginia, his parents look at the photos Green regularly sends from his cell phone to his website, which is used by family, friends and people he's met along the way to keep up with the trip.

Green is circumspect when considering whether the journey will help him figure out what he wants to do next.

"I didn't want to be too ambitious about what I would figure out on this walk," Green says. "I didn't want to tell myself that when I was done, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. But maybe in the back of my head somewhere, I'm kind of hoping that."

His parents are hoping that, too, though they're also learning about letting go.

"You just have to have faith in somebody sometimes," Green's dad says. "So we have faith in him."

----------------------------------------------

It's a long read, but worth it. The article with photo breaks and video is here. And his personal website link is here.

Have a great day finding your purpose!

2010-05-19T01:59:00.000+08:00

Read this and it resonated with me. Not that I am preparing for failure, but I have to let go of the pressure to be perfect. I have to be okay with the fact that I will fail sometimes, and it will be okay. I'll let Liz Gilbert speak for me during this mad dash to more knowledge.

-------------------

Let's just anticipate that we (all of us) will disappoint ourselves somehow in the decade to come. Go ahead and let it happen. Let somebody else be a better mother than you for one afternoon. Let somebody else go to art school. Let somebody else have a happy marriage, while you foolishly pick the wrong guy. (Hell, I've done it; it's survivable.) While you're at it, take the wrong job. Move to the wrong city. Lose your temper in front of the boss, quit training for that marathon, wolf down a truckload of cupcakes the day after you start your diet. Blow it all catastrophically, in fact, and then start over with good cheer. This is what we all must learn to do, for this is how maps get charted—by taking wrong turns that lead to surprising passageways that open into spectacularly unexpected new worlds. So just march on. Future generations will thank you—trust me—for showing the way, for beating brave new footpaths out of wonky old mistakes.

Fall flat on your face if you must, but please, for the sake of us all, do not stop.

Map your own life.

- Elizabeth Gilbert, On Failure and Living Well.

You can find the full article here.

isolated

2010-04-21T10:08:00.000+08:00

i know i have been consciously isolating myself for review period, but isolation at this level is just, well, ridiculous.

how to fix, how to fix, how to fix. help world!

turning dreams into reality

2010-04-15T03:34:00.000+08:00

it is no secret that i am more often a pessimist than i am an optimist, and more often than not when I think of my own dreams I get caught up in my own net of "but" thoughts, putting realism in between me and my visions, taking me farther and farther away.

my dreams range from the fairly simple (like going to a really expensive restaurant), to whimsical (like being taken out on the date of my life), to incredible long shots (like graduate studies in a really good university), but for the most part, they have all been within the realm of possibility.

today, I read an article about "real life" superheroes, and it gave me a different perspective about dreaming and making your dreams come true. these people dreamed of becoming actual superheroes, and impossible though that may sound they never let pessimism or even frivolity get in the way of becoming what they dream. and so they run around in New York city donned in suits and masks and capes and do the work that superheroes do, in their own little way. They don't have superhuman powers, to be sure, but what they do have is superhuman will to do what they dream of doing, no matter what it takes.

and all of a sudden, my dreams don't seem so impossible, because if anybody can be a superhero without being carted off into the looney bin, then I can at least try to believe that I can achieve my dreams.

the full story about real life superheroes is here.

dream away!

sing it with me!

2010-04-13T14:59:00.000+08:00

So today, after a hellish week of waiting for grades that did not seem likely to arrive, I found out that I was finally graduating from law school. After 6 years of tears, of humiliation, of arguing with myself as to how or when to study, of feeling shabbily stupid next to other people, I am graduating. I hardly have the words, so I will let the words of the great Frank Sinatra speak for me.

------------------------------------------------------

My Way

And now, the end is near,
And so I face the final curtain.
My friends, I'll say it clear;
I'll state my case of which I'm certain.

I've lived a life that's full -
I've travelled each and every highway.
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Regrets? I've had a few,
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

I planned each charted course -
Each careful step along the byway,
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew,
When I bit off more than I could chew,
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way.

I've loved, I've laughed and cried,
I've had my fill - my share of losing.
But now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.

To think I did all that,
And may I say, not in a shy way -
Oh no. Oh no, not me.
I did it my way.

For what is a man? What has he got?
If not himself - Then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way.

Yes, it was my way.

--------------------------------

thank you Universe. Thank you God. On to the next challenge.

Thought for the Day

2010-04-07T06:25:00.000+08:00

"When faced with a radical crisis, when the old way of being in the world, of interacting with each other and with the realm of nature doesn't work anymore, when survival is threatened by seemingly insurmountable problems, an individual life-form -- or a species -- will either die or become extinct or rise above the limitations of its condition through an evolutionary leap." - Taken from Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth.

Let's do this.

beginnings and endings

2010-04-06T14:25:00.000+08:00

Why does it take so long to begin? Sometimes I wonder where this mentality of crammers comes from, the thought that most functions don't kick in till there is literally no more time to spare. I have been trying to begin reading for the past 5 days and then postponing it because the conditions aren't right or the vibes aren't there.

I know that if my back was to the wall or if I was someone with no options I would be breaking my back trying to outdo the entire world. And yet, I also know that on some level, this is my last stretch of rope.

Lord, I pray that I find the motivation to perform under any condition, and to really truly learn the lesson, in everything I encounter. Please remind me to make each day count, and also that there are people who would be grateful even just for the chance.

miracles

2010-04-05T14:21:00.000+08:00

i have to admit that i am always very cynical when it comes to miracles. Though I have been extremely blessed by most standards, I don't believe that I have ever encountered a true-blue, hard-core miracle in my life. Except for the time when I was dragged by the car for a few feet and I emerged unscathed.

I wonder if the absence of miracles in my life is due to the fact that I stopped looking for them, or if it is because I am in fact being punished for my cynicism. The other day I was talking with a friend of mine and we agreed on the idea that God is not a vengeful, punishing God who will smite you with bad fortune if you decide to "go against His teachings" as proclaimed in the Bible.

I do know, on some level, that somehow, somewhere along the way I stopped trying. Why have I become so scared to even try? Today, I was thinking about that and I realized that I have gotten to that level of fear where my fear hinders me from even trying. Because I am so fearful of everything. Of failure. Of mediocrity. Of judgment.

I know I do not want to define myself by my fears. Maybe this is the miracle I have been waiting for.

the power of prayer

2010-04-02T17:06:00.000+08:00

today was Maundy Thursday in the Philippines. Holy week has always been a big deal in our family, and since both my parents are natives of Tarlac, I spent most of my childhood holy weeks in the province, marveling at the bloody corporal punishments and acts of penance while eating ice snowball and dirty ice cream outside our gate.

My parents particularly love holy week because this was when they would go back to their respective home towns after the stress of Manila living, and they would be one of the faceless millions who took Victory liner and lined up for hours on end until they got a bus that would accommodate them. (my dad has a particularly interesting bus story about him, Everybody's Cafe in Pampanga, and a ham sandwich, but that's a story for a different time)

When I was a bit older, my family began to spend holy week in different parts of the Philippines with their staple group of friends and their own families. Thru this yearly arrangement, we were able to go to Sorsogon, Marinduque, Banaue (my dad almost died here, literally), and Baguio. As we grew older, the novelty of trips like these faded, and as professions improved and statures progressed, we began to explore out of the country trips to Hongkong, Canada (me), and then the US. and then somehow, we became too old for it.

When I began law school, I stopped going to Tarlac for holy week. Somehow the thought of staying in the middle of a farm with no cable, internet, and airconditioning seemed too much of a sacrifice, and I always reasoned out that I would be losing precious study time sweating it out and being distracted by the many noises of pabasa and children running amuck.

This is the first year that I actually missed it. Yesterday, I was driving around in Manila, and while I was overjoyed that there were no cars on the road, I wanted suddenly to be somewhere where there were, where there were curious onlookers gawking at the funny Manila people walking around there. I wanted to see the salibatbats, to hang out in our summer finest with my cousins, feel carefree and annoyed that we were too young to drive or do anything unsupervised.
Now, driving along an empty Manila rushing to get home to read my books, it seems like such a viable option.

On a whim, my brother and I decided to do Visita Iglesia, which I found refreshing since I haven't been to a church to pray in so long. It was a beautiful experience, more enlightening than intriguing. I don't know if this is the first time I was mature enough to pay attention, or if this year the churches really stepped it up, but they seemed to have gone above and beyond regular fixing and decorations to create little pockets of heaven where you could sit and pray and feel somewhat like a child again. For me this year, more than the awe of new places and the shock at the olden traditions, I was in awe of the time and the care it took to stage these places. I was in awe of the people who came to pray so wholeheartedly. I loved looking at people and reading in their faces such trust, such letting go of control, of pretensions; it was a humbling experience. Through all of those people who came, I felt the humility of acknowledging a God again. Of having to put trust in a higher power somehow. It was beautiful.

hello world, it's me.

2010-03-30T16:56:00.000+08:00

so I have resurfaced after a long, long, long time. Things have kept me busy, and I wish I had taken more time to write in between then and now. But on the eve of my birthday, I guess this is the lesson that I've had to learn the hard way. Somethings, you just have to go through, do, not put off.

I've spent quite a long time putting doing things off, and it's ironic how I keep repeating the cycle seeing as to how it gives me such fulfillment to accomplish things on my many checklists. But I keep on losing myself in reruns of bad tv, all which seem as though they are of transcendental importance at the time they are on.

Identify, address, move on. Do it. No more time to waste baby girl.

hello, december!

2009-12-02T11:19:00.000+08:00

sometimes, you cannot help but find unfortunate things incredibly amusing. Like the fact that I had to have teeth pulled out and have now been reduced to one of those people who put teeth in a glass at night. (luckily, this is only temporary). but last night, as i dropped them into the glass i couldn't help giggling because I did not think this would be something that would happen to me until I was waaaaayyyy into my 70s or 80s.

but, tooth loss aside, i am grateful for what this december means. to me, it is a blessing to be able to realize that, in spite of my being 27 single and careerless, i can still find joy in my days, (see previous post), and that i have friends that are there even though i am no one at the moment. also i am hopeful that these remaining few months will be my last ones in law school. and also, because, finally, i have woken up to the fact that no matter what happens, i should just do what i want to do because life is too short not to.

i remember doing a christmas post a while back, of those things that i love about christmas. i still do love them, so i wont repeat what i said. (you can find them in the december posts for sure) but i love how december makes people feel cheerful, and happy. maybe it is the cheesy versions of christmas songs played everywhere? maybe it is the hope that christmas miracles will happen. i know there is a lot of pressure to be extra happy during december - and this can sometimes make people even sadder. i guess...sometimes we have to really really squint and look hard to find what we can be happy about. december is too long to wallow about not having things.

hopefully i can carry this mood through out the remainder of my lifetime. in the meantime, ang lamig na!!! i am loving this weather. hello december! excited to meet you again :)

sweet november

2009-12-01T20:22:00.001+08:00

okay, so today is the first of december and i am sitting here with a toothache from the ghost tooth that has already been pulled out from my gums and maybe i am buzzed from the mixture of painkillers sugar and other meds i have had to take. but it must be said that of all my novembers i have yet to remember one as sweet as this year's.

so thank you, november, and thank you, universe for this month that brought me:

my hawaii getaway and much-needed oomph for the days to come
the will to wake up again
super fun weekends with friends - yes, all of them! yay! this has not been achieved since i entered the hallowed halls of law school.

i loved the lunches and conversations with loys that bring me hope and enlightenment.
i loved the katy perry concert with kris.
i loved the IMAX date with caribou.
i loved (still do) the beginning of the Sunday picnics with zazipoo.
i loved (even the) awkward lunch with our new BFF (badge of courage right there)
i loved everything about this month.

THANK YOU NOVEMBER!!! mwah mwah mwah.

may we all be this happy.

at a different time, in a different place

2009-11-14T06:58:00.000+08:00

so I am back from hawaii, and in spite of my depression at my exam taking skills i find myself energized, i find myself more excited to start my days. i am singing in the shower again, interested in how i look before i get out again, am getting the hang of waking early again. new improved days...here i come!

beware of your fear says the cat. hahaha. happy weekend!

catching cabs

2009-11-13T23:33:00.000+08:00

in an episode of Sex and the City, Carrie Bradshaw compared men and marriage to catching cabs. According to her it didn't matter who the girl was, all that was important was that you would catch the man who had "his light on", so to speak. If a girl were so lucky as to catch a man when his figurative marriage light was on, then married they would be. Whereas a girl could ride around forever with a man whose light was off and no matter where you went or how long it took it was bound to end in disaster.

i always thought this was a lot of baloney until i had this conversation with a friend and her husband. while they did say they were in love NOW, THEN, when they first met he already knew he was ready to settle down and had already made several attempts to get married to several other girls before actually getting married to his wife. it had taken them all of 10 months to meet each other, get into a relationship, get engaged, and get married. another friend took about 7 months from meeting her husband. when i asked a guy friend when and why he decided that he was going to marry his girlfriend (now his wife) all he said was that he felt he was ready and he could see himself married to her (note that he didnt say he couldnt see himself married to anyone else).

this makes me wonder whether these matches are fortuitous or merely coincidental, just a case of being in the right place at the right time. but then again, isnt all of romantic love like that? i get confused sometimes.

but it also makes me wonder, if, after all these years of chasing after cabs I am meant to realize that it is me whose light is turned off. and on another note, it also gives me hope that it can really truly just sweep you off your feet when you're not looking. my cousin received this very random phone call at work from a stranger (who eventually became her husband) who had been urged by her ninang to call. it gives me great joy to ride in the backseat of their car and watch them drive in silence holding hands and telling jokes when they think i am asleep. i am so happy for her. and i am hopeful for me.

value

2009-10-18T00:41:00.000+08:00

this week my mom celebrated her Nth birthday. We had a big dinner with most of my extended family members. We always have some to-do like this when there are occasions, but to me, they are rather impersonal. It makes me sad that we don't take birthdays too seriously here in my family, extended or otherwise.

I love birthdays. If it were up to me we would celebrate them for a whole entire week. Maybe because I feel (these days more than ever) that getting through a day is torture enough. Getting through a whole year and being alive to celebrate it should be cause for more than just greetings and a cake.

In Gilmore Girls, one of my most beloved shows, they celebrate birthdays in the most wacky and endearing ways. It starts with mallomars spelling out Happy Birthday on the coffee table, together with the most perfect personal gift, and a kickass party filled with people whom you actually want to see. Where they do not feel burdened by your invitation, do not feel burdened by having to get you a gift. Who not feel burdened by taking time out of their day to celebrate with you. I want so much to genuinely celebrate people's birthdays, and people's lives. Maybe at the moment that is the only value I can offer to anyone.

survival

2009-10-01T01:03:00.000+08:00

So I am writing this in the aftermath of one of the worst calamities to hit our country in years. And for the first time, I actually know of people who suffered the horrible fate of losing everything because of this tragedy. Well, everything material, I suppose. In that sense they (my friends who lost their homes) are more lucky because while they lost everything they are all safe.

It got me to think about whether or not I had it in me to survive a tragedy. Not just this one, but any one in particular. I'm not sure I do. I just finished reading this poignant book by Anna Quindlen, and one of the entries which struck me the most is the entry she wrote about her mother. She wrote:

"We're different, those of us whose mothers have gone and left us to fend for ourselves. For that is what we wind up doing, no matter how good our fathers, or family, or friends: On some deep emotional level, we fend for ourselves. The simplest way to say it is also the most true - we are the world's grownups. 'No girl becomes a woman until her mother dies' goes an old proverb. No matter what others may see, or she herself thinks, we believe down to our bones that our mother's greatest calling was us; with that fulcrum to our lives gone, we become adults overnight.

x x x

Sometimes, missing my mother, I lose track of whether I am missing a human being or a way of life. Our mothers only slowly become people to us, as we grow older and they do, too. But for years and years they are both more and less than that. First they are warmth and food and an inchoate sense of security, then cheerleader and overseer, then finally listener, perhaps even friend. Our family was a wheel; she was the hub. Without her we fell apart, a collection of sticks. We've knit back together, some of us, as adults, but it has never really been the same.

There is something primitive about this love and this loss. What does it mean, to sleep beneath the heart of another person, safe and warm, for almost a year? No scientist can truly say. but it must have some visceral power that we cannot really understand, only intuit. She was the only person who ever loved me unconditionally. That was her great gift, too. It has been the bulwark of my life, has made everything else possible. When I can see myself refracted through the rosy lens of my mother's love, it melts the self-doubt and brings to life the tiny sanctuary lamp of confidence.

x x x

It's been twenty-five years, and I can even joke about it now, in a macabre way. I refuse to go and see what I call "dead mother movies"; I can watch Terms of Endearment when it comes on television until Debra Winger goes to the hospital, and then I'm out of there. I only go to my mother's grave when I attend family funerals. I don't see the point; she's not in there. She's in me, the way I was once in her, only not as tangible. Inspirational books would have us believe that that is sufficient. That is such utter nonsense that my lip curls just writing the words. Because here is the final thing about having your mother die: You never, ever get used to it. You want her back. Or at least I do."

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I am lucky that I still have my mother, though I never really felt like I had her in the way some of my friends do - to brush their hair and share secrets to and go shopping with and talk about boys with - but she is my mother. And she has been a mother to me. Despite my pessimism, she somehow manages to pray for me and tell me to eat my vegetables and see potential even when I am being the laziest oaf in the world. I don't know how I would survive without her. I don't know how I would live without her. At the moment, I suppose, I feel as if I can survive any tragedy apart from losing my parents. Anything but that.

incremental steps

2009-08-03T22:25:00.000+08:00

these words, i know ive always heard or read about even before i went to law school. but they were burned into my brain after our first class in legal method, where, while we were attempting to understand vandevelde's article [thinking like a lawyer, i think], my good friend izzy made mention of these words. they got her 1) the first respectable recit in our method class, and 2) a coveted grade to go along with the respect of our method professor.

i don't remember why these words were significant to our discussion. i don't even remember how they were used. but i always remember them when i am pressed for quick fixes to all my seemingly complex problems. too many cases to read? take incremental steps, one case at a time. worry about finishing the coverage later. (this i learned very late in my law school life, unfortunately - only now, during my [hopefully] second to the last semester). i have absented many classes and foregone the task of finishing the coverage because of my perpetual fear of reading and reading and never making a dent in our assigned materials. too many things on my to-do list, tackle them one task at a time - even when you dont get to check all of them, you at least have the pride in accomplishing most or even some of them, making for a productive day. ive approached my bedside reading list in the same way, as of late: before, it used to be that i would read a chapter and then forget about it till months later, when i would have to reread even the last few pages that ive read. now, a month after ive assessed my reading progress, i was giddy to realize that ive read 3 books since then. this to me is a major achievement. i am finally reading the way i want to - in part because of my newly developed speed reading abilities (hehehe cramming does have its perks), and partly because of this incremental step mentality.

which gets me to thinking: if i can begrudgingly drag myself through the pain that is lawschool, why can i not literally take one step at a time and get on the road to fitness finally? hmm. i will have to get my head wrapped around that i guess.

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on a completely unrelated note, our former president corazon aquino died last saturday, and while everybody is celebrating her life, you can really sense a feeling of loss when people realize what her dying means.

i was very young when the edsa revolutions took place, but my parents both trooped to edsa in their yellow shirts and told me all about how this woman corazon aquino restored democracy to our country. i had my yellow shirt and my doll, and i think i was even taken to edsa (when it was less dangerous, and more celebratory). i sat on my father's shoulders and i saw the millions troop to ayala and celebrate the fall of mr. marcos.

i can see how affected my parents are because of the death of cory. to be sure, when she was alive they did not always agree on her policies and opinions, and they were very vocal about the subject. but one thing that they always agreed on was the strength of her character. she was humble, convicted, faithful, and honest. some blamed her for her overt reliance on religion to steady her, but at least amidst all doubt at her policies we never doubted what kind of person she was. she always had the country's best interests at heart, guided by what she thought her God would think was best, to be sure. if i can say that at the end of my life,

last night my mom and i were watching parts of one of her many televised interviews and she spoke about how destiny was instrumental in making her the first female president in asia. she said ninoy had always planned on becoming president but fate would not let it happen. this gets me thinking, if fate is an integral factor, then am i still here in law school because of fate, or because of fear for lack of a better option?

nonetheless, i am applying this incremental steps idea this sem. one case at a time, one day at a time. hopefully, someday soon, i will have finished through all of this, a changed person.

random burst of happiness

2009-07-22T11:32:00.000+08:00

these past few days have been nicely busy - spent on dinners with friends at random pleasant surprises like tickets to a great concert, surprise hangouts with friends, and even a surprise settlement in favor of my client! it makes me feel somewhat normal in spite of my downward spiral into depression.

today i am happy because instead of being in negotiable instruments class i am sitting at home writing this blog post. AND i am happy because i am meeting up with sanne and mel and carrie for dinner at one of my favorite places.

last night i was happy because kris treated mel and i to great seats at the boyz II men concert and we sang (well i did, mel just looked NR hahaha) our hearts out, sometimes with matching actions.

and i am also happy that one of the cases I worked on for OLA was successfully settled in our favor. it makes all those nights that i worked on my pleadings so worth it. and even that dreadful day when i had to brave the storm to drive to ortigas, get my pleadings signed by my SL, and find an open post office before 5PM. It makes me feel good to have done something good in a substantial way. parang kahit papano, may pag-asa pala for me in the legal world.

im just quite happy this week. this is a good day.

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on a completely different note, mel and i were exchanging mom stories yesterday, as we were both touched by 2 unrelated events with our moms.

mel, who will be leaving for japan in 2 days, told me about her mom's shoes which she always uses because it goes with everything. after unsuccessful efforts to find her similar shoes in her size, jokingly told her mom that she would be bringing them to japan with her. and her mom agreed! *tears* i know how hard it is for women to part with their shoes. unreplaceable ones even!

and now for my story. my mom bought these yummy crispy shrimp that taste like chicharon. my brother eats them like potato chips, so they ran out pretty fast. yesterday at breakfast i saw her eating them and i asked if meron pa. she told me ubos na so I started looking for other things to eat. and then she started picking out the shrimp from her food and she put them on one plate to give to me. *tears* i know they were her favorite and kahit na ubos na ibibigay niya pa sa akin yung isusubo niya. aww. i told her she should have them of course. but a touching story nonetheless.

hugs to you!

muddy

2009-07-19T23:36:00.000+08:00

i feel...stained. no, soiled. whatever word you might have for someone who is irreparably damaged, that's how i feel. last night i felt it when i was driving home without no place definite to go.

i feel so...weird. so awkward with my place in the world. i think i may have made it next to impossible even for my closest friends to understand whats been going on in my head.

i resent so many things. i resent that i am always "the token black guy-type person" in every group i join. i resent that when i hang out with people from college there is this sinking feeling i get because i am the only one who has never been in a relationship, never dated anyone serious, never goes out with anyone insignificant, and it has become apparent that law school is not the only reason for my aloneness. i resent that i am the one who was left behind, the one who cannot get over her past, the one who was "once pretty", the one who once had so much going for her. i resent how i am always the one who initiates, who tries to understand but always comes out as the one who has to be humored, to be understood.

maybe it is only a matter of time.

ill say it if no one will.

2009-07-13T00:42:00.001+08:00

i am the ugly girl you meet on the street.

so congratulations on being thinner, prettier, less pathetic, less everything-gross-and-morbid-that-you-would-never-want-to-be.

can we move on now? hmm. why can't i? why???

i am tired. again.

love love love

2009-07-13T00:04:00.000+08:00

i havent thought about this in a long time. well, not that i havent thought about it at all, but lately i havent had the time to feel sorry for myself for never having fallen in love still.

i DO always think about it, but no longer often enough to still believe that it applies to me. and today, i stupidly saw a marathon of movies that had cheesy sappy love as their central theme and it got me thinking again of what it is that needs to happen so that i can finally say that i have loved someone, anyone, at least once in my life.

is it like jeopardy where i have to ask the right question in order to win? and if so, would any of these be the right question?

is it me?
what am i doing wrong?
are there really just people who are destined to be single forever?
would my life be less of a life if i died never having experienced that kind of love?

but then even with all those questions i wonder if it is me who is doing something wrong. if it has anything to do with the way i look, or how i live, or how i think and act and say the things that i do. why are there some people who just trip and find themselves in the middle of romantic entanglings?

dear universe, is it me? if it is, please give me a sign as to what i am doing wrong so i can fix it. kahit isang beses lang.

more apparent than real

2009-07-06T01:19:00.000+08:00

this is a phrase that i often encounter in Supreme Court decisions, when the court disposes of "conflicts" between laws when harmonizing provisions that seem to be directing different modes of behavior. When the court finds a construction that will allow both conflicting provisions to co-exist, they always say that the conflict is "more apparent than real".

at this moment, i use this phrase to refer to several things in my life that i thought i was certain of, but realize that i was not. certain friendships, are, under the spotlight, more apparent than real.

certain opportunities are more apparent than real.

some of my potential, it seems, are more apparent than real.

perhaps there is some wisdom in cutting off people who offer no additional value in your life like my friend said. not in a kick-you-while-youre-down kind of a way, because that's just mean. but there are some differences in opinion that you do not just let slide.

sometimes, nice guys finish last because they are too busy letting other people pass them i guess.

society girls

2009-07-01T00:18:00.001+08:00

today carrie and i made a new word for our singular meal during wednesdays and fridays.

brunchienda (say it like you mean it, preferably with an english accent hahaha)

this is short for breakfast lunch and merienda. we would have made it bruncher pero mas sosyal pakinggan ang brunchieda, plus, it sounds conveniently like hacienda which is very bagay to haciendera carrie. hihihi.

because we are lazy oafs, we do not consume breakfast before our 10:30 am class and we spend the time in between nego and civ law rev (12:00 - 2:00PM) cramming for civ, 3:30 is the time we eat our first meal during these fateful days.

ahhh. i am excited for brunchienda tomorrow. it shall be either pancakes or burgers.

soon, we figure starving artists and waifish models will be using the term we coined as the fashionable meal of choice of the painfully thin hoi polloi. ang labo. hahaha. i feel like i must end this bizarre post with an X O X O.

there you go.

walk with me and hold my hand

2009-06-28T02:07:00.000+08:00

these past few weeks i have been running away...from parts of my world, because i no longer feel like i belong in it.

i have been hiding from my friends and people whom i thought were my friends because i did not want them to see how badly i was doing. and so now that i have succeeded in cutting nearly everyone off, instead of feeling light (after unloading all that load off my shoulders - hey, no one said mediocrity was light) I feel insanely heavy.

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i can no longer live with the pace that i used to. i can only walk now. slowly.

i have no funny stories, no witty anecdotes, no pretty clothes, no token boys.

i have only me. and i am not sure if that is good enough.

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this is why i have been so ashamed. and why i have been hiding from everyone.

earlier today i spent the evening over dinner and coffee with old old friends of mine. we got to discussing friends, issues, and friends with issues, and before i knew it, i saw myself in one of the "needy friends" that we were talking about. the consensus had been "cutting off" people whom they thought dragged us (they had yet to discover that i was dead weight) down. and it terrified me to think of whether or not my other friends saw me that way too. perhaps cutting myself off had been the right choice after all.

i decided to keep mum about my life when in the company of other people, lest i be dubbed as needy and be forcibly cut off.

so i was surprised when a different friend told me exactly the opposite. she said, only a fairweather friend would leave you when you are at your lowest point. and while i was keeping quiet, she told me that she saw me more like a sister - someone who you would never ever leave.
the sincerity of her statement made me cry.

esteem

2009-06-16T23:44:00.000+08:00

so some guy ran over my left foot today. some people can be so thoughtless. i was standing in the side of the parking lot when i felt the front of the car nudge my leg from behind. i didn't even have time to react when i felt the front wheel of the same car go over my foot. the asshole who ran over my foot didnt even have the decency to ask if i was okay or to acknowledge that he ran over me. and he had the gall to block my car when i tried to leave my slot.

not having the presence of mind to get out of the car and talk to the guy, (i was also nervous that he/she would turn out to be some crazy violent freakazoid with a gun) i left the parking lot (my foot seemed fine though obviously traumatized by the weight of the car) only to discover after driving a few meters away that it was getting numb and sort of swollen. i decided to turn back to at least try to get the name of the guy who was driving. after all, if after checkup, had we discovered anything broken or injured more than what was apparent, there had to be someone else who would pay for this.

the guy turned out to be the biggest asshole. i cant believe that there are people who grow up to be like that. while i had approached the guy with civility in mind, his brashness and misplaced bravado was something that i could not fathom. he had the gall to suggest that it was he who would take me to court (for what?!) and that I think I know everything. He refused to show any valid ID and refused to acknowledge his mistake. He also did not offer to at least take me to have my foot checked. ang kapal. people like this make me sick.

while there are times when i feel like my better judgment is lost, and even though i was (somewhat) humiliated by this guy (he tried to make it seem like it was my fault he ran over me grrr), this situation was not one of them. while originally i decided that the injury was not serious enough (because i wasnt in pain), i thought it was important too that I at least check that i didnt break anything. i guess it was a self-esteem issue too. it might have been tedious but i was worth the effort. and if i wasn't going to stand up for myself, who would? after an xray and an examination by the infirmary doctor, i was told that my foot was not injured, but merely traumatized from the pressure put on by the car's weight.

to that ugly disgusting guy: i wish you would grow up (for real) and grow some balls, some humility, and some character. get better tint for your car and hopefully get some morals somewhere along the way too.

we don't need any more of your kind. i hope you never have to deal with anyone like you. nobody deserves that.

the debut

2009-06-16T00:33:00.000+08:00

last Saturday, all my efforts to coordinate my first debut as a professional event coordinator came into fruition. despite all of the delays and the occasional technical difficulty, it was a huge success. I was happy that I had a hand in making someone's vision of their dream event come to life. after the event, the parents of the debutante told me that their guests were really impressed with my work and that they were going to refer me to other friends. though my feet ached and got blistered all over from running all around in heels that evening, I was so happy to discover that there were still some things that I could do right despite everything that's been going wrong lately.

pulling out of the event site parking lot, I felt a little bit like a debutante myself i suppose. even more than when I actually turned 18. then, it was more of a celebration for every woman in my clan who did not get to have their debut. now, it does feel a bit like coming out into the world. hey world, this is what I can do when I put my mind to things!

unfortunately (i know, i know, i must stop being so pessimistic), this week also heralds the beginning of what is hopefully my last year in law school. I hope the encouragement I got from coordinating a successful event will translate into inspiration to give this final year the effort that I never gave the other semesters. or at the very least, generate the love for law that i have been painstakingly waiting to arrive since 2004.

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on a different note, today i got home from dinner with a good friend. i was supposed to celebrate my best friend's birthday at our scheduled dinner date, but a meeting gone long changed my plans. instead, i had dinner with my friend mel, because i just realized that she will be gone for three years after this, and because she is the kind of friend that you miss even when she's not too far away. thinking about our dinner, i remembered that i told her that if it wasnt for her leaving i wasnt sure if i would be meeting her as often as i have. we had a fun conversation with my good friends chris and trix who stopped by as we were having dessert to say hello. i love this couple so much. they have the ability to reduce me to a giggly girl almost all of the time, even when i am in my most foul angst-ridden moods.

driving home, i realized that my friend mel is similar to my friend trix. though it is true that her leaving soon is one of the reasons for me breaking my self-quarantine (to borrow a word from the swine flu people hahaha) rules, I realize that I am meeting her most of all because I really like hanging out with her. she is the kind of friend whom I don't feel compelled to put on a show for. at the moment i dont think i can be anyone more than me, and luckily, for her that is enough. she puts up with my snivelling whiney self.

oh and on an even more random note, i am quite liking how i wore my hair today. hahaha. wavy with curls at the ends and a sparkly headband. me likey. one day at a time.

something beautiful to tide us all over

2009-06-12T01:31:00.000+08:00

life is hard, i know, and it can get particularly harder when you feel like there is no break from the monotonous stream of failure. but at the very least, when you least expect it, you are treated to greatness that live immortal through the words of geniuses past; and like puffs of fresh air, they revive you into thinking that better things are possible.

Romeo (To Juliet): If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Juliet: Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

Romeo: Have not saints lips, and holy palmerstoo?

Juliet: Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

Romeo: O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant though, lest faith turn to despair.

Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene V,
William Shakespeare.

Breathe in, breathe out. I hope that you all find your little tidbit of joy in these words, much like I have. And now there is hope again. How can there be none in a world where beautiful words such as these can exist?

is there no one else?

2009-06-08T01:22:00.000+08:00

there are days when i wonder when anyone is ever going to get me. for all my reveling in my aloneness, sometimes i wonder if it wouldn't be too much to ask to have someone ask me how i am from time to time.

i feel like such an afterthought. this makes me want to cry.

OLALA. hahaha. blagag.

2009-06-06T00:33:00.000+08:00

so OLA 1 finally ended today, and it was not as bad as I thought it would be. It was better than I imagined actually. I feel as though I won the lottery for the great SLs and the fun team mates. They certainly made the 2 months pass faster. I even liked the part where I worked. I enjoyed doing the pleadings (though I complained about them endlessly) too. Yet the end of OLA 1 also necessarily means the beginning of another academic semester.

This makes me sad. Especially since my attempts to overload have blown up in my face, and I emerged not vindicated but shot down at every turn. I wish I really was the kind of person who rebounds harder after she's been hit. But no, I am the wallow type of person, and I am licking my wounds even up to now.

On another hand, maybe this is fate's way of telling me that I should allow myself to have a life still this semester. I suppose if fate allowed me to have a good OLA 1 experience, then it wouldn't be too much to ask of Lady Luck to gift me with the grace to finish this semester (and the next) without getting kicked out, and without sacrificing everything that I want to do with my life still.

I hope this is what it means.

meaning in the mundane

2009-06-05T01:16:00.000+08:00

for the most part my life has been incredibly simple this summer. a huge chunk of it went to finishing the requirements for my required legal internship. though it was draining, the people on my team, though they may never know, brought a lot much-needed laughter into my otherwise dreary law school life. i had forgotten what it felt like to function as someone who wasn't invisible in the college of law. part of it went to spending weekend man-hours at the restaurant, and yet another part went to coordinating efforts at the debut that I have been working on for quite some time now. it was a weird kind of busy-ness. the kind that kept me indoors most of the time, due to sheer exhaustion in part, and due to a desire to act the part of a recluse. i reveled in books and in movies, in games and in tv shows. for these 2 strange months my entire world seemed limited to the four walls of my room.

thinking back, compared to last summer where i was ever the jetsetter (managing to visit australia, singapore, bacolod and boracay), this summer holds no excitement like that. but it was a calming sense of quiet when i was at home. quiet that i thought i would never get used to, or even like for that matter. yet as friday closed and saturday followed, i was always more than happy to trudge home and just watch videos or read a book in bed. what does this mean? or am i just getting older?

this book that i began to read just now told me to write even when i have nothing to write, if anything, to immortalize my life. these past few days have been exceedingly mundane yet exceedingly satisfying (or idling, who knows?). it suggested that i email a query to a library archivist which documented every query ever sent to them. but i suppose they (my days) deserve more than an entry in some book no ones ever going to read. so here goes:

this week marks the end of my reading the thirteenth tale by diane setterfield. this also marks the third book that i have managed to finish reading this summer. ever since i went on academic leave in 2006, i have taken note of every book that has passed my hands in an attempt to urge myself to read more. since then, i have read 26 books. not a lot, i know, but in my opinion a huge sign of progress and hope that all is not lost between me and reading. of the 26, 10 books were books that I have read last year, meaning (at least to me) that i have increased my book reading without too much effort on my part, and during law school at that! ironically, i realized that i was also more excited at realizing that i had read 3 books this summer than realizing that it was my (hopefully) last year in law school. perhaps because i am not really sure of what my law school future holds for me in these last 9 months. as someone very intelligent once said, these 9 months seem to symbolize a rebirth period of sorts, and hopefully, after it all, i will emerge reborn, a better person - or at least a person closer to the one i had envisioned when i entered into law school.

also, though i have done my share of complaining regarding ola, i found myself enjoying the experience once i settled into it. i enjoyed finding the answers to opponents' arguments, i even enjoyed talking to the people who came to OLA (though i thoroughly enjoyed hiding from the rraf people too hahaha). it made me think of what i thought i would be doing after law school, if for some reason i did pass the bar. it made me realize that given the circumstances, i suppose i could do the work. i was certainly not averse to it. but to what extent did i like it? i don't know. perhaps it was not "liking" per se but more tolerance than anything.

somewhere inside, there is a voice saying that there is something more...and i should be actively seeking out what that is.

i have also begun feeding my obsession with this new tv show "criminal minds", and i find myself questioning what it is about these kinds of shows that draw me in. is it the shock or the entertainment value? i find myself being intrigued at the nuances of criminal profiling. i wonder if that is an avenue that i can explore. hmm. or is this one of those phases of character love, like the time i wanted to play soccer after watching bend it like beckham, hahaha. god, i hope not.

the other day, my brother, my cousin and i had a mini pizza party after we decided we would order in. as we were devouring the pizza and the criminal profiling, i realized how content i was to be spending my night like this. it made me realize that for some reason i was no longer pining away for some absentee guy who wasnt sweeping me off my feet, resulting in me staying home. have i given up or merely settled down? i also realized that i preferred spending evenings like this now, slumming it in peejays and enjoying entertainment in the comforts of my own home. now to find a guy who will find me amazing despite this. hahaha. no, seriously, i didn't even feel like i was looking for anybody in particular this summer. i wonder what this signifies.

last night, i had dinner with a couple of good friends and we were laughing like silly people the entire time. i realized that over the last few months, i have maintained so few of the friendships that i had in previous years. now, i am no longer the busy bee flitting from group to group, but i have found comfort and solace in the company of fewer people. yet i am more happy with my relationships with them. i have more faith in them, more trust that they will be there for the long haul. i feel less pressure living up to standards of other people, and i find this level of friendship to be satisfying nonetheless.

today was spent running around in the rain to finish my errands for OLA, but another part of it was spent talking and foodtripping with a good friend. we had cheesesteak and halo-halo and popcorn and lots of conversation. and i just realized how much i am going to miss her.

tonight i begin a slew of new books that i must return to mel before she leaves: i have just begun A Year in High Heels by Camilla Morton and Angels by Marian Keyes. I have also started The Audacity of Hope by Obama again. I strengthened my resolve to read the Classics. Tomorrow is my last duty day for OLA. I have to go to sleep now if I am going to make the 8am call time.

mundane but not really I suppose.

feeling of loss, loss of feeling

2009-06-03T23:07:00.000+08:00

somehow I feel indifferent to events taking place regarding my progress in law school. Regardless of the passing of time, of the completion of subjects I still feel as though there is no guarantee that they truly have a place here.

For some reason, I get more emotional when I finish a book (a non-law one, in case there is a need to emphasize) than when I get through a law subject. Hmm.

In Search of the Next Big Thing

2009-05-16T22:38:00.000+08:00

I spent a good part of today working. Working on invitation designs and program flow proposals for my debut client. Not studying my lessons, not reviewing important subjects. Doing work completely unrelated to law. Today being a Saturday, one of my few free Saturdays at that, I wondered why I wasn't making better use of my time. Answer: with everything else that I am doing, I feel like I still have to pencil into my schedule my neverending search of the next big thing. Or in my case, my first real big thing.

Now being 27, hence, there being many, many years after college, I find it quite frustrating to realize that I have yet to find a calling, a purpose, or just a place in an industry where I feel quite at home. Even everyday mundane activities such as planning my day or watching the TV reveals to me how some of my colleagues are already on their way; some are even already there. (Case in point: watching TV I saw my former boss back in the spotlight as the new EIC of a new magazine; planning my day I discovered that a friend was with some of our friends shopping for office clothes for their new careers as full-fledged lawyers. Obviously, they have found their calling. Obviously, for them, the search has ended, and real life can begin.

The process of marriage and babies and rearing children and growing old together and getting wiser with age. Of knowing that you are where you are supposed to be.

I suppose, for me "real life" has been the constant searching for a place, and who's to say that that isn't a life? But when will it be my turn to say, "Ah, it's time to settle now. Here." I know there are people older than I am who are in limbo in the same hellish way, but it gets to be such an uncomfortable place. And the view from where I stand isn't getting any prettier.

The only wisdom I can offer from being in this part of my life is for you (anyone who feels the same) to have enough faith and hope to see what tomorrow will bring. Perhaps the next step will be the one that leads you to your BIG THING. Perhaps its this post. Whilst writing this indulgent nonsense I like to think that someone out there is benefiting from my musings.

When I dream sometimes, I get a vision of what I imagine my "real life" would have been, if things were ideal: me cooking pancakes on a Sunday morning, listening to the sounds of my little children laughing outside; having coffee and reading the Sunday news with my husband. We have a pool, we have bagels, we have easy banter. When I think of that I smile.

coming and going

2009-05-07T01:16:00.001+08:00

a few of my nephews are spending their summer vacation here at our house, and i couldnt be happier. apart from the fact that they are very kind and well-behaved children, they are extremely funny and i quite enjoy hearing anecdotes about them from my brother who has taken to being peter pan to their lost boys. the sound of activity and conversations going on in our house is a welcome change. the boys playing practical tricks on one another or just being competitive at their various sports games is a sound i will miss when they do go back. i will miss our tv time when we all sit on the couches watching american idol or csi and our ice cream nights and merienda afternoons. but i think the thing will miss most is hearing them singing late at night while my brother plays guitar. it makes me feel a bit like i am in the sound of music (one of my all time favorite films). hearing them all singing with so much feelings really brings a smile to my face. i am happy that my brother is finding the company that i think he so desperately needs. when he is with them i dont have to worry about what he's doing or thinking, and i know that he tries his best to become a better role model to such impressionable boys.

this being said, as i was thinking about their stay i got to thinking about my general disposition during trips. i am the type of person who hates packing for trips. even when i am just deciding what clothes to bring and sifting through travel books and sites to get me more motivated about leaving i feel an intense sadness because i know i will miss my room. it's my world, really. but when i do leave and i finally get settled in the place that i go to, i find that mustering up the motivation to go back to my old life gets quite difficult too. nearly every trip ive taken has had me feeling this way. losing myself in a new place seems so natural to me for some reason.

this made me realize another thing. as i am about to begin my fifth year in law school, i find that i have not felt settled in yet. is it me trying to hold on to the last vestiges of my old self? or is it just the feeling of knowing that this is someplace i am just passing through, but not staying at? as i am (hopefully) about to make the steps needed for me to leave, i feel no connection, no lingering desire to stay. no wistfulness at the things ill be leaving. these have been the most painful and humbling five years of my life.

i feel as if i never even unpacked my suitcase here in law school. weird. i went in thinking these would be the best 4 (5) years of my life.

beauty vs the beast

2009-05-05T12:12:00.000+08:00

so last week i was chatting with several of my relatives and someone piped in saying that the best way to charm guys was not by being extremely hot but by being extremely nice.

it sounded quite simple but to me quite untrue. as someone who has been single for the entirety of her life, my problem had always been getting someone to actually look at me before i could ever get to be nice to them. and so for the majority part of my 20-something lifetime, my focus had been on becoming better-looking, at the very least.

this whole becoming nicer concept is completely lost on me.

but this morning, as i was sipping on my second cup of coffee, it hit me: what if i had been approaching things completely wrong?

perhaps extreme niceness really was the key?

hmm. must. give. this. more. thought.

wisdom and wit

2009-05-03T00:00:00.000+08:00

today as i was on my way out the door, i realized that i am already 27 years old. its weird. i certainly dont feel like im 27. i know i am not where i thought i would be at age 27. hell, when i was in college i believed i would make my first million after i turned 25. and here i am, at age 27, moseying on along, trapped in the mundane inanities of being a nobody doing nothing. today i am fuming about having no agenda of my own.

it upsets me that my day is filled with chores for other people, yet i cannot complain because apart from this i have nothing more to offer at the moment. only my driving skills and my bodily presence at our family's place of business. my skills are quite useless, my mind's presence is somewhere else, cooking up arguments for my paper on sustainability.

i knew there were a million places i would rather be, things i would rather be doing, but deciding to go do what i was asked to do was the most "27" thing i could do. i wonder if that is good or bad.
some days, i question whether or not this desire to become something else, to make something else of myself (apart from the "future lawyer" project i am on at the moment) is the last trace of my old self raging against "the man". sometimes i get frustrated at people when i try to explain that i complain this much because i feel in my heart this is not what i am meant to be doing.

i am afraid that to give in and conform will eventually mean that i grow up and lose my unique streak. that thing that will secure my rise above mediocrity. that thing that i was waiting to discover this whole time.

but i am also afraid that in my waiting for brilliance to hit me i will have missed out on everything normal in life.

sometimes i do not know if i have enough strength not to sit down and cry when people look at me and see nobody. sometimes i wonder if in my pursuit of legalese i have lost my wit. sometimes i wonder if all my bad decisions are irreparable.

i feel so alien. so removed from the world. so unable to connect to anyone.

i find, at 27, that i know nothing. i want to run away.

reality in quiet times

2009-04-23T23:59:00.001+08:00

how ironic that i find it so comforting to write inanities here now that i am convinced no one reads this anymore. for today at least, i find my being alone in this forum so refreshing. there is no one to judge, no one to think i am crazy, no one to rebuke my paranoia.

it is as if, today, i can be just me. without the afterthought. without the maquillage. without the armor.

i know i always liked seeing but not really being seen. and now i am talking but not really being heard. feels like much of the same. i like it.

aloneness

2009-04-23T23:45:00.000+08:00

so lately ive been feeling incredibly alone. so alone, in fact, that for lack of conversation partners i have taken to using search engines communicate my aloneness to the world.

one night, i found myself typing "I feel so alone" in my browser because I didn't know who else to tell, and I didn't know who would care to hear me rant, really. I came across this website that allowed people like me to be together in our aloneness, and for a while, that was enough. it gave me a sort of touchstone kind of a sentiment, where when i felt alone i would write to someone, anyone - a long lost friend or one i regularly correspond with. it gave me the greatest high to reach out to people and tell them how wonderful i thought they were. and then, the feeling would pass.

today, i feel the same kind of aloneness, and i feel that it cripples me. i feel almost as if i get weaker to resist its darkness with every time that it sets in. earlier today, consumed by work, when i wasn't even pondering how alone i felt (i usually do), i received this run-of-the-mill prayer chain text, and for some weird reason i felt compelled to pray for people, and for those few minutes that i was praying, i really didn't feel alone. i felt like someone really was listening i suppose. that my prayers weren't for show, weren't a performance on my part, the way i usually felt before.

a bit later, as i was going through this book i came across an anecdote that told of a girl who was afraid that God would forget she was there. she was taught by her teachers that if she stopped praying fervently, constantly, on her knees, God would forget about her, and then she would wither up and die.

i have been thinking a lot about God these past few days, especially when i am alone. during rockbottom days, days when i feel like i am dying, i find myself talking to a higher power, one who is not as demanding as that little girl's God. and for a few moments i stop being alone. for that remaining stretch of road i find the courage to drive on, for those few minutes i breathe in and out and realize that today is not the day that i die of a heart attack. for a few minutes i feel as though i still want to battle on and make sense of my life.

at least, in the direst of situations, even when i am alone i am not alone. but what about the in betweens?

Happiness is Realizing that We Cannot Be Sublimely Happy All the Time

2009-03-07T19:52:00.000+08:00

...we are human after all. I do realize that happiness takes real effort and sheer willpower. But there are parts of being human that we cannot shy away from, like the pain of heartbreak or the misery of losing a loved one. I was talking with my friend this evening, and she was feeling incredibly down because the person she loved fell in love with someone else. And miraculously, this thought just came to me and I just blurted it out "Even brokenness is part of being whole", I told her. And it was like I was saying it to myself too. I had been in the same position countless times, and hearing me speak it reassured me in some way. Somehow, it feels as though me being okay with getting hurt meant I was validating my human existence. Because being human doesn't mean being invincible. It means being able to withstand hurtful things, and then getting up and trying to live again, anyway. What could be more beautiful than that?

It made me happy to think that I had gotten to that truth all on my own.

Who Are You to Judge?

2009-03-01T20:20:00.000+08:00

In this book I am reading, the author states quite aptly that "the life in us is diminished by judgment far more frequently than by disease." I agree with this completely. Disease, while it batters you and wears your body down, goes away completely after some time, and after a while, we forget that we were ever bogged down by it. Judgment, on the other hand, seeps into your soul and sticks to your very consciousness that those who constantly seek it or who pattern their lives by it are so changed in their ways.

Why do we let other people's judgments get to us?

I am lifting a few paragraphs from Kitchen Table Wisdom again, because it has helped me, and I hope it will help you too. Let us try every day to be free from judgment, be it other peoples', or our own.

-------------------------------

On Judgment
by Rachel Naomi Remen

Our own self-judgment or the judgment of other people can stifle our life force, its spontaneity and natural expression. Unfortunately, judgment is commonplace. It is as rare to find someone who loves us as we are as it is to find someone who loves themselves whole.

Judgment does not only take the form of criticism. Approval is also a form of judgment. When we approve of people, we sit in judgment of them as surely as when we criticize them. Positive judgment hurts less acutely than criticism, but it is a judgment all the same and we are harmed by it in far more subtle ways. To seek approval is to have no resting place, no sanctuary. Like all judgment, approval encourages a constant striving. It makes us uncertain of who we are and of our true value. This is as true of the approval we give ourselves as it is of the approval we offer others. Approval can't be trusted. It can be withdrawn at any time no matter what our track record has been. It is as nourishing of real growth as cotton candy. Yet many of us spend our lives pursuing it.

Some people spend enormous amounts of time considering the impression that their words and behaviors create, checking how their performance will affect their audience, playing always for approval. x x x A great deal of energy goes into this process of fixing and editing ourselves. We may have even come to admire in ourselves what is admired, expect what is expected, and value what is valued by others. We have changed ourselves into someone that the people who matter to us can love.

x x x

Parts of ourselves which we may have hidden all of our lives out of shame are often the source of our healing. We have all been taught that certain of our ways don't fit into the common viewpoint and values of the society or the family into which we have been born. We make ourselves less whole. It is only human to trade wholeness for approval. We can remember our wholeness at any time. In hiding it, we have kept it safe.

One of the most dramatic manifestations of the life force is seen in the plant kingdom. When times are harsh and what is needed to bloom cannot be found, certain plants become spores. These plants dampen down and wall of their life force in order to survive. It is an effective strategy. Spores found in mummies, spores thousands of years old, have unfolded into plants when given the opportunity of nurture.

When no one listens, children form spores. In an environment hostile to their uniqueness, when they are judged, criticized and reshaped through approval into what is wanted rather than supported and allowed to develop naturally into who they are, children wall the unloved parts of themselves away. People may become spores young and stay that way throughout most of their lives. But a spore is a survival strategy, not a way of life. Spores do not grow, they endure. What you needed to do to survive may be very different from what you need to do to live.

Plant spores are opportunists. The life force waits in them, scanning the environment, looking for the first opportunity to bloom. But people may forget that becoming a spore is only a temporary strategy. Few check the environment, as plant spores do, to see if conditions have changed and they can find what they need to bloom and reclaim their wholeness. Many of us still hide the parts of ourselves that were unacceptable to our parents and teachers although our parents are long gone and their world with them. x x x The world we live in now offers far greater opportunities for expression, but we may still live in it as if it were the hostile terrain of our childhood. The saddest part is that we may have forgotten what it is like to be whole.

x x x

Reclaiming ourselves usually means coming to recognize and accept that we have in us both sides of everything. We are capable of fear and courage, generosity and selfishness, vulnerability and strength. These things do not cancel each other out but offer us a full range of power and response to life. Life is as complex as we are. Sometimes our vulnerabilit is our strength, our fear develops our courage, and our woundedness is the road to our integrity. It is not an either / or world. It is a real world. In calling ourselves "heads" or "tails", we may never own and spend our human currency, the pure gold of which our coin is made.

---------------------------------------------------

She hits it home with every point. I don't dare add anything to it, for fear that I might muddle the author's message. I just feel blessed that I was able to come across this article, and even more blessed that I am able to share it with you, whoever you may be.