The family went on a weekend vacation at Tatay Along’s place in Butuan last May. The kids, particularly Baby, had a field day. It’s Baby’s first visit to a farm and he was so delighted to see first-hand all those things he gets to read only in books. He particularly took a liking to a cute, little piglet that run about freely around Tatay’s yard. There was also a hen and her chicks, some dogs and cats. But what really excited him were the carabaos. And surprising enough, he calls them “dancer.”
For a month now I’ve really been wondering how he happens to associate the word, “dancer” with a carabao. Of course, I readily corrected him then, repeating again and again, it is a carabao. And soon enough he was calling it a carabao. But then after a while, when he’d see one, he’d point at it and would say, “Nanay, look, dancer.” And I was like, “Huh?” I could not for the love of me understand why the term. I was thinking he probably saw it in Disney Channel or in one of his cartoon shows. I even asked him about it if he saw a “dancing” carabao in Disney Channel but he just looked at me in a strange way as if asking himself if he’s Nanay had turned nuts on him wahehehe.
And then last, night, the puzzle was solved at last. I was really beside myself with laughter when Baby ran to me from the other room to show me the new pajamas his Lola Linda bought him. He came to me running, saying, “Nanay, dancer! Dancer!” And lo and behold, there it was, a pair of Carter pajamas with “DINOSAUR” prints on them! Hahaha! So that was what “dancer” was about. Baby mistook a carabao for a dinosaur! Hahaha! How cute of him. Dancer indeed!
I think it’s really cute how good Baby is with his animals and all of that. I think I’m also pleased with the fact that he takes interests in dinosaurs. I used to like them too when I was little but I did not have the patience to really know them all by heart. I knew a T-Rex though and that long-necked “vegetarian” kind, the name of which, escapes me at the moment. But other than that, I always confuse my “saurs” and my “clops,” whatever hehehe. Now, I’m thinking if it’s high time to buy baby those dinosaur books or cards with all the names on them. Wouldn’t want to put much pressure though where his learning is concerned.
Of course I want Baby to grow up smart and intelligent. We pray for that everyday. But I wouldn’t want to be the kind of Mom who forces things down my son’s throat just because I have such grandiose designs for him and his life. I would very much want to be the kind of Mom who would be sensitive enough to pay attention to his own rhythms and flow. I want to have an active part in his life – helping him along, “molding” him ever so carefully to help him achieve his full potential. At the same time, I want to be an attentive spectator, watching him, holding my breath as he unfolds right under my very eyes. I am excited to learn about his own personality, his own sanskaras and what his “message” would be in this world.
My son, all that he is, and all that he will be, is something that is far beyond my grasp or undoing. I maybe his mother and as such, is responsible for him in many ways but at the same time I acknowledge the fact that like me, he is also the Father’s “masterpiece.” God has His own plans and designs for him and that is something far beyond “me.” Controlling his life in the perspective of my own “grandiose” designs and illusions would be like committing a mortal sin. It would be like disregarding altogether the Hand that made all things be. And I pray that He will help me along on this -- to constantly remind me of this fact -- that I am just a ward, a guardian in my son’s life. I should lighten up a bit and not take my role as his mother too seriously. After all, I am not in control of everything. HE is.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
"Credit"
I sat at the edge of the bed, feeling a lot of emotions all at once. I was frustrated, disappointed, angry, and upset. It was one of those moments when I would ask myself whether I made the right decision for choosing Bolo to be my other “half.” Yup, there are definitely moments like that. One thing I learned about being married is that it isn’t everyday that you will feel thankful that you are married. Haha! Every now and then there are moments when I would ask myself what I was thinking the day I decided to get married. Haha!
It’s pretty much like climbing really. Right when you’re in the middle of an eight-hour long trek. Your shoes are heavy with mud; the trail is getting steeper and more difficult; and what was once a comfortable pack begins to weigh heavily down your shoulders and back. At that point you would certainly ask what made you forsake the comforts of your home and bed to haul yourself up to be in the middle of a mountain and endure hours and hours of walking while carrying not-so-few kilos on your back.
In mountaineering, however, past experiences would tell you that a glorious view at the peak would make all the sacrifices worth it. You knew that after the entire long, hard trek, the view at the top would make up for all that you’ve endured. Nothing sure beats the feeling of being up there, looking down in all of God’s creation. As long as one’s eye could see.
In marriage, well, it is a lifelong commitment, and a lifelong journey. This meant that the “peak” is nowhere around any immediate corner. One had to “travel” a lifetime before one reaches the peak. So who knows what awaits us there? What are the sights to behold? And what are the emotions that would course through us once we reach the summit of married life?
But I’m digressing again. I only wanted to write about a recent incident wherein Bolo and I fought again over a minute little detail. Sometime soon, to celebrate my birthday and our anniversary (and also to treat mama to a long overdue vacation), we are going on a family travel. Well, it had been a tradition of ours to travel at least once a year as a family. It is something we look forward to every year.
Anyway, I’ve been moving heaven and earth just to make sure everything would fit within our budget. Since this time, there wouldn’t just be the three of us. Mama, Janin and Mama Fely will be joining us. Having Mama and Janin meant additional expense of course. It meant extra air fare, extra terminal fees, extra bus fares and other incidentals. Not that I really mind it at all. If I could have my way, I’d bestow on Mama all the luxury that she truly deserves. But as it is, reality entails, Bolo and I could only afford so much.
So I’ve really been surfing the net overtime the past few months, looking for ways and options wherein we could save. I was lucky enough to have found a cheap accommodation due to some recommendation of a friend (Thanks Ruf! :)). Anyway, the reservation entails that I have to make a deposit to their Allied Bank account. Credit card would not do since there are additional charges.
Now, here’s why we quarreled. Bolo was set to go to Bankerohan for some ukay rendezvous. I had to be at the office the whole day. I had no time to flit off and go to the bank which is so totally out of the way. Allied Bank, however, is close to where Bankerohan is. So it makes so much sense to have Bolo go to the bank and make the deposit. But he would not.
There he was lying at the other side of the bed, covering his face with a pillow and like a spoiled child stubbornly told me he isn’t going to make the transaction. I was angry and felt so incredulous I swear I could have done something more than just seethe there in silence. No amount of cajoling would want him to do it. I tried drama by crying, appealing to his hopefully-present-merciful-side by pointing out to him that it’ll be much of an inconvenience for me. Then I tried bullying, trying to throw a fit just so he would agree to do it. When that did not work, I got rude and pointed out to him he only had to “deposit” and not bother about… well… looking for the funds to be deposited.
I’m not in the least proud of this. And this is certainly ugly but I was really disappointed that he refused to do it. That he wouldn’t mind if I had to go through all the hassles when he could do it himself. Anyway, finally getting ashamed of myself for having resorted to the lowest trick on the book, I tried diplomacy. I mustered all the patience I could get and assured him I’ll try my best to provide him with all the information he needed – the account details, the address, etc. I told him I would write everything so clearly so he wouldn’t have to commit a mistake.
Finally, I got to him and he stood up and stomped his way out of the bedroom muttering something to my face. It was a full sentence but all I could hear was the word, “credit.” It was hard to miss since he kept repeating the word. It was only when I followed him downstairs that I understood what he meant by “credit.”
I was lucky enough to have secured a deposit slip from Allied Bank since that is where Mama Fely keeps a checking account. I knew pretty well that his reluctance to do the transaction was Allied Bank being different from PS Bank and Banco De Oro. What both banks had in common is that he often transacts there for me. So he’s pretty much familiar with the forms and all that. Allied Bank, however, was a new one. Haaay. What is it with guys, anyway? Their being so scared about asking questions when they don’t know what to do about something? :p
I patiently explained to him that I already wrote down the account details of the hotel in the sample deposit slip. I pointed out to him, however, that since he’s making an inter-branch transaction, he’d probably be asked to fill up another sort of form. I reassured him that it shouldn’t bother him since all the details needed would be in the sample deposit slip. I reassured him there is nothing so scary about all of it actually and that he could always ask questions if ever he is unsure of anything. Then his reply totally made me smile. He told me in not so many words that yeah he is willing to do the transaction himself. What he is upset about is that his efforts would not again be “credited,” that it’s as if he did nothing at all. I was amused and sad all at the same time.
So that was what he meant by “credit.’ It saddened me to think that I’ve probably been not vocal about my appreciation for all the little things he did for me. Well, not as much as I’ve been so vocal about his “misdeeds” and shortcomings to me. In hindsight, our first year had seen me always vocal about my appreciation for him. I would often text him my “thank you’s” for taking care of our son, for his doing errands for my Mom. Come to think of it, “thank you’s” then were often exchanged between the two of us. I could distinctly recall a touching incident wherein Bolo turned to me and thanked me for bearing him his son… Now I wonder where all of that have gone to.
Have I become so petty? So shortsighted? Or is there also some “lack” in his part that made me become one? Was it the “injectibles”? Post-partum blues? Stress? Feeling of discontent? Or all of the above? I think these are things that I ought to seriously think about. If there is one thing I learned from the incident it is that appreciation sure could go a long, long way in any relationship. It will always be a good company to keep rather than constant fault-finding and petty quarrels over nothing that serious really. Ah, this, I should keep in mind. Always.
It’s pretty much like climbing really. Right when you’re in the middle of an eight-hour long trek. Your shoes are heavy with mud; the trail is getting steeper and more difficult; and what was once a comfortable pack begins to weigh heavily down your shoulders and back. At that point you would certainly ask what made you forsake the comforts of your home and bed to haul yourself up to be in the middle of a mountain and endure hours and hours of walking while carrying not-so-few kilos on your back.
In mountaineering, however, past experiences would tell you that a glorious view at the peak would make all the sacrifices worth it. You knew that after the entire long, hard trek, the view at the top would make up for all that you’ve endured. Nothing sure beats the feeling of being up there, looking down in all of God’s creation. As long as one’s eye could see.
In marriage, well, it is a lifelong commitment, and a lifelong journey. This meant that the “peak” is nowhere around any immediate corner. One had to “travel” a lifetime before one reaches the peak. So who knows what awaits us there? What are the sights to behold? And what are the emotions that would course through us once we reach the summit of married life?
But I’m digressing again. I only wanted to write about a recent incident wherein Bolo and I fought again over a minute little detail. Sometime soon, to celebrate my birthday and our anniversary (and also to treat mama to a long overdue vacation), we are going on a family travel. Well, it had been a tradition of ours to travel at least once a year as a family. It is something we look forward to every year.
Anyway, I’ve been moving heaven and earth just to make sure everything would fit within our budget. Since this time, there wouldn’t just be the three of us. Mama, Janin and Mama Fely will be joining us. Having Mama and Janin meant additional expense of course. It meant extra air fare, extra terminal fees, extra bus fares and other incidentals. Not that I really mind it at all. If I could have my way, I’d bestow on Mama all the luxury that she truly deserves. But as it is, reality entails, Bolo and I could only afford so much.
So I’ve really been surfing the net overtime the past few months, looking for ways and options wherein we could save. I was lucky enough to have found a cheap accommodation due to some recommendation of a friend (Thanks Ruf! :)). Anyway, the reservation entails that I have to make a deposit to their Allied Bank account. Credit card would not do since there are additional charges.
Now, here’s why we quarreled. Bolo was set to go to Bankerohan for some ukay rendezvous. I had to be at the office the whole day. I had no time to flit off and go to the bank which is so totally out of the way. Allied Bank, however, is close to where Bankerohan is. So it makes so much sense to have Bolo go to the bank and make the deposit. But he would not.
There he was lying at the other side of the bed, covering his face with a pillow and like a spoiled child stubbornly told me he isn’t going to make the transaction. I was angry and felt so incredulous I swear I could have done something more than just seethe there in silence. No amount of cajoling would want him to do it. I tried drama by crying, appealing to his hopefully-present-merciful-side by pointing out to him that it’ll be much of an inconvenience for me. Then I tried bullying, trying to throw a fit just so he would agree to do it. When that did not work, I got rude and pointed out to him he only had to “deposit” and not bother about… well… looking for the funds to be deposited.
I’m not in the least proud of this. And this is certainly ugly but I was really disappointed that he refused to do it. That he wouldn’t mind if I had to go through all the hassles when he could do it himself. Anyway, finally getting ashamed of myself for having resorted to the lowest trick on the book, I tried diplomacy. I mustered all the patience I could get and assured him I’ll try my best to provide him with all the information he needed – the account details, the address, etc. I told him I would write everything so clearly so he wouldn’t have to commit a mistake.
Finally, I got to him and he stood up and stomped his way out of the bedroom muttering something to my face. It was a full sentence but all I could hear was the word, “credit.” It was hard to miss since he kept repeating the word. It was only when I followed him downstairs that I understood what he meant by “credit.”
I was lucky enough to have secured a deposit slip from Allied Bank since that is where Mama Fely keeps a checking account. I knew pretty well that his reluctance to do the transaction was Allied Bank being different from PS Bank and Banco De Oro. What both banks had in common is that he often transacts there for me. So he’s pretty much familiar with the forms and all that. Allied Bank, however, was a new one. Haaay. What is it with guys, anyway? Their being so scared about asking questions when they don’t know what to do about something? :p
I patiently explained to him that I already wrote down the account details of the hotel in the sample deposit slip. I pointed out to him, however, that since he’s making an inter-branch transaction, he’d probably be asked to fill up another sort of form. I reassured him that it shouldn’t bother him since all the details needed would be in the sample deposit slip. I reassured him there is nothing so scary about all of it actually and that he could always ask questions if ever he is unsure of anything. Then his reply totally made me smile. He told me in not so many words that yeah he is willing to do the transaction himself. What he is upset about is that his efforts would not again be “credited,” that it’s as if he did nothing at all. I was amused and sad all at the same time.
So that was what he meant by “credit.’ It saddened me to think that I’ve probably been not vocal about my appreciation for all the little things he did for me. Well, not as much as I’ve been so vocal about his “misdeeds” and shortcomings to me. In hindsight, our first year had seen me always vocal about my appreciation for him. I would often text him my “thank you’s” for taking care of our son, for his doing errands for my Mom. Come to think of it, “thank you’s” then were often exchanged between the two of us. I could distinctly recall a touching incident wherein Bolo turned to me and thanked me for bearing him his son… Now I wonder where all of that have gone to.
Have I become so petty? So shortsighted? Or is there also some “lack” in his part that made me become one? Was it the “injectibles”? Post-partum blues? Stress? Feeling of discontent? Or all of the above? I think these are things that I ought to seriously think about. If there is one thing I learned from the incident it is that appreciation sure could go a long, long way in any relationship. It will always be a good company to keep rather than constant fault-finding and petty quarrels over nothing that serious really. Ah, this, I should keep in mind. Always.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Circle of Fire...of Life...
We were all huddled in a circle, discussing all sorts of issues on "development." We are in a meeting organized by a foreign-funded development agency. All participants there, myself included, are partners of that agency. Most of us have projects in partnership with them while some just have concluded projects with them.
Everyone was candid, airing out their sentiments outright, openly sharing their views and ideas. While we were making comments on how things could still be improved, it was not in a criticizing manner. Everything was treated objectively. In fact, it was very glaring that everyone there was not intent about just making criticisms but on how things could be better for the smooth implementation of projects. The focus was on how the projects will be delivered to the "beneficiaries" (or as pointed out during the meeting, the politically correct term would be, "partners") the best and fastest, possible way. The stress was on the importance of meeting their needs and addressing important developmental issues. The sincerity of everyone present really struck me. Everyone's candidness imply the fact that these people are indeed serious about working for development and not just being there for monetary reasons alone. Well, I've had some experiences on the latter...
We were intent on our discussion when the feeling of dejavu hit me. I felt myself floating and for a while a vision of the same circle but in another more primitive time drifts in and out of my mind. In the vision, we were huddled close to a bonfire, also engrossed in some sort of conference. I smiled at the vision, noting its possibility.
The activity served a reunion of sorts for most of us. Old classmates, past collegues, members of the same network in the past quite eagerly made a "reconnection" then, rekindling old fires, reminding everyone of one's passion about development that have somehow ebbed over the years. For a moment I thought that day's activity was like a gathering of sorts in a waterhole, for some tired soul warriors to refresh themselves and replenish their weary selves after spending years and the most part of their lives working for Mindanao.
I sat there and I began to re-examine my recent pre-occupation about uprooting my family and moving on to some country to start our lives anew. I must admit I am being pulled in opposite directions nowadays. And I'm afraid the fire that used to light my spirit -- that had been the constant barometer for my decisions in the past -- would sometimes waver when I think about certain realities such as my son's future and my immediate family's direction in life.
I've had, had opportunities to get into some really serious conversations during lull moments at the meeting and at one point I felt an affirmation when I heard someone say, "Now I feel it's high time I think about working for my family and not just for Mindanao. Now, the kids are growing up, and demanding more time from me. I think it's high time that I start thinking for myself..."
I'll always be inlove with Mindanao. For some reason, I feel a special connection to this place. In my youth, I have known right away that my talents and gifts would be for Mindanao and not for some place else. I was never lured by the promises of great wealth and a more comfortable life that being in another country offers. I knew then where my passion lay and I was deadset about it. Up until now. During one of those conversations, I shared how I find it ironic how simple everything was to me in the past when my preoccupation had been that of the macro-perspective -- working for peace and development in Mindanao. Now, that I am forced to look into the micro-details of my life -- being a Mom and a wife -- I found out it's more complicated and time-consuming and more detail-oriented. There are just too many at stake where the latter is concerned. But yeah, I love both aspects of my life now.
If I could have my way, I'd love to chance upon a great windfall of money, where I could continue to work for my passion while at the same time be sure that my family and son will be well-provided for. For sure, I would like to bequeth to my son this passion I have about Mindanao. It's one unique quality that I love about myself and I would like to share that with him. I long for the day when I would be able to tag him along in one of those great causes for Mindanao. I long to teach him about peace, about love for nature, and for a heritage that is so rich but so unfortunately torn by so much unrest. I love my son dearly in the same way that I am so passionate about this land I call "home." I would love for him to share the same passion.
Everyone was candid, airing out their sentiments outright, openly sharing their views and ideas. While we were making comments on how things could still be improved, it was not in a criticizing manner. Everything was treated objectively. In fact, it was very glaring that everyone there was not intent about just making criticisms but on how things could be better for the smooth implementation of projects. The focus was on how the projects will be delivered to the "beneficiaries" (or as pointed out during the meeting, the politically correct term would be, "partners") the best and fastest, possible way. The stress was on the importance of meeting their needs and addressing important developmental issues. The sincerity of everyone present really struck me. Everyone's candidness imply the fact that these people are indeed serious about working for development and not just being there for monetary reasons alone. Well, I've had some experiences on the latter...
We were intent on our discussion when the feeling of dejavu hit me. I felt myself floating and for a while a vision of the same circle but in another more primitive time drifts in and out of my mind. In the vision, we were huddled close to a bonfire, also engrossed in some sort of conference. I smiled at the vision, noting its possibility.
The activity served a reunion of sorts for most of us. Old classmates, past collegues, members of the same network in the past quite eagerly made a "reconnection" then, rekindling old fires, reminding everyone of one's passion about development that have somehow ebbed over the years. For a moment I thought that day's activity was like a gathering of sorts in a waterhole, for some tired soul warriors to refresh themselves and replenish their weary selves after spending years and the most part of their lives working for Mindanao.
I sat there and I began to re-examine my recent pre-occupation about uprooting my family and moving on to some country to start our lives anew. I must admit I am being pulled in opposite directions nowadays. And I'm afraid the fire that used to light my spirit -- that had been the constant barometer for my decisions in the past -- would sometimes waver when I think about certain realities such as my son's future and my immediate family's direction in life.
I've had, had opportunities to get into some really serious conversations during lull moments at the meeting and at one point I felt an affirmation when I heard someone say, "Now I feel it's high time I think about working for my family and not just for Mindanao. Now, the kids are growing up, and demanding more time from me. I think it's high time that I start thinking for myself..."
I'll always be inlove with Mindanao. For some reason, I feel a special connection to this place. In my youth, I have known right away that my talents and gifts would be for Mindanao and not for some place else. I was never lured by the promises of great wealth and a more comfortable life that being in another country offers. I knew then where my passion lay and I was deadset about it. Up until now. During one of those conversations, I shared how I find it ironic how simple everything was to me in the past when my preoccupation had been that of the macro-perspective -- working for peace and development in Mindanao. Now, that I am forced to look into the micro-details of my life -- being a Mom and a wife -- I found out it's more complicated and time-consuming and more detail-oriented. There are just too many at stake where the latter is concerned. But yeah, I love both aspects of my life now.
If I could have my way, I'd love to chance upon a great windfall of money, where I could continue to work for my passion while at the same time be sure that my family and son will be well-provided for. For sure, I would like to bequeth to my son this passion I have about Mindanao. It's one unique quality that I love about myself and I would like to share that with him. I long for the day when I would be able to tag him along in one of those great causes for Mindanao. I long to teach him about peace, about love for nature, and for a heritage that is so rich but so unfortunately torn by so much unrest. I love my son dearly in the same way that I am so passionate about this land I call "home." I would love for him to share the same passion.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
John Ford Coley!!!
I sat there in the darkness feeling a lot of things all at the same time. I felt excited, exhilarated, and happy to be where I was while another part of me was transported to another time. I felt being pulled by memories of high school days wherein some of my classmates and I would just spend hours listening to music.
We were such a happy bunch. Being on the “honor class” meant we were all (well, at least trying to be) serious about learning and studying. But, our thirst for knowledge was in no way only limited to our textbooks or the four corners of our classroom. We were also very passionate about a lot of things. This includes the arts, music. I remember how we would also excel in extracurricular activities – winning caroling contests, speech competitions, with our representatives emerging champions in quiz bees, spelling bees and all that stuff.
Last night, listening to John Ford Coley croon and sing songs reminiscent of that time, I grew nostalgic. I wished my former classmates were there with me to watch the concert. In high school, we would spend hours crouching on our karaoke unit playing tapes. England Dan and John Ford Coley were just two of them. We were crazy about the Bread too, Air Supply, the Beatles Lobo, New Wave, Spandau Ballet, 70’s hits, even the 60’s… Our music preferences were pretty broad and varied. There were also moments when we’d take to rock music.
But it was England Dan and the Bread that I remember the most distinctly. We knew the lyrics by heart. We would exchange tapes, listen to them on hours end. At home, I would practice playing them on my guitar. I know I’ll never be as good as David Gates or JFC but being able to play and finish their songs were one of my happiest moments then. Until now I listen to them. They were among the very first CDs I bought for my collection.
Remembering all of these things made me grateful last night. I was grateful for the fact that I grew up in such kind of environment. I felt grateful for the persons that surrounded me then. I felt grateful for the kind of friendships and relationships forged then, something we still keep until now. I felt that we were all so lucky to be growing up in such a “right” environment.
Teen-age life is a crazy moment in any individual’s life. Everything is just so confusing. At this period we are still trying to define who we are, and what we really want to be. We get obsessed about fitting in, being normal, that we would take on anything to be ours or identify ourselves with all sorts of things. All, in our effort to find ourselves. I am grateful that even in this crazy time, I was surrounded with persons who have such great souls – intelligent, smart, engaging, interesting, a bit crazy at times but generally with a good head over their shoulders. We never got into experimenting with alcohol or drugs or anything of the sort.
But back to the concert last night, when JFC sang “Make it with You” I was definitely floored. I felt like swooning, cannot believe my good fortune. There I was thinking also of David Gates and the Bread and there was JFC playing and singing one of their songs that’s also a favorite of mine.
It was a magical night alright. The show was great. It could still be better if it had been longer and if he’d played all of their songs but yeah, I was very grateful for the experience and the fact that I was able to witness him sing first hand. I wish I could lend do this blog the magical feeling I got last night every time JFC would get into one of his intro’s. The crowd would cheer each time, recognizing the songs just by their intro’s alone. I know like me, they were also probably remembering some earlier times in their lives when everything is so simple, so innocent, so pure and true. Ah, last night was simply magical.
We were such a happy bunch. Being on the “honor class” meant we were all (well, at least trying to be) serious about learning and studying. But, our thirst for knowledge was in no way only limited to our textbooks or the four corners of our classroom. We were also very passionate about a lot of things. This includes the arts, music. I remember how we would also excel in extracurricular activities – winning caroling contests, speech competitions, with our representatives emerging champions in quiz bees, spelling bees and all that stuff.
Last night, listening to John Ford Coley croon and sing songs reminiscent of that time, I grew nostalgic. I wished my former classmates were there with me to watch the concert. In high school, we would spend hours crouching on our karaoke unit playing tapes. England Dan and John Ford Coley were just two of them. We were crazy about the Bread too, Air Supply, the Beatles Lobo, New Wave, Spandau Ballet, 70’s hits, even the 60’s… Our music preferences were pretty broad and varied. There were also moments when we’d take to rock music.
But it was England Dan and the Bread that I remember the most distinctly. We knew the lyrics by heart. We would exchange tapes, listen to them on hours end. At home, I would practice playing them on my guitar. I know I’ll never be as good as David Gates or JFC but being able to play and finish their songs were one of my happiest moments then. Until now I listen to them. They were among the very first CDs I bought for my collection.
Remembering all of these things made me grateful last night. I was grateful for the fact that I grew up in such kind of environment. I felt grateful for the persons that surrounded me then. I felt grateful for the kind of friendships and relationships forged then, something we still keep until now. I felt that we were all so lucky to be growing up in such a “right” environment.
Teen-age life is a crazy moment in any individual’s life. Everything is just so confusing. At this period we are still trying to define who we are, and what we really want to be. We get obsessed about fitting in, being normal, that we would take on anything to be ours or identify ourselves with all sorts of things. All, in our effort to find ourselves. I am grateful that even in this crazy time, I was surrounded with persons who have such great souls – intelligent, smart, engaging, interesting, a bit crazy at times but generally with a good head over their shoulders. We never got into experimenting with alcohol or drugs or anything of the sort.
But back to the concert last night, when JFC sang “Make it with You” I was definitely floored. I felt like swooning, cannot believe my good fortune. There I was thinking also of David Gates and the Bread and there was JFC playing and singing one of their songs that’s also a favorite of mine.
It was a magical night alright. The show was great. It could still be better if it had been longer and if he’d played all of their songs but yeah, I was very grateful for the experience and the fact that I was able to witness him sing first hand. I wish I could lend do this blog the magical feeling I got last night every time JFC would get into one of his intro’s. The crowd would cheer each time, recognizing the songs just by their intro’s alone. I know like me, they were also probably remembering some earlier times in their lives when everything is so simple, so innocent, so pure and true. Ah, last night was simply magical.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Siblings
It’s 3:57 A.M. I’ve been awake since 3:00 A.M. And ever since, I’ve been texting my sister-in-law who’s due to give birth anytime now. She said she couldn’t sleep since the baby has been moving a lot since 1 in the morning. Being a first time Mom, she doesn’t really know what to expect so anything slight of the ordinary already worries her. The fact that she turns to me first hand is something I appreciate. And as always, I’m glad to be of help any time.
In a way I pity her. Her mom is out of the country, so she lacked that kind of support. It’s always good to have one’s mom around in a time like this. Even if only to make you feel there is someone you can count on, someone who had been there, gone through the experience of giving birth. I remember in my case before, I would listen intently every time Mama would tell me how it was with her when she was pregnant with me. She told me I’m a lot luckier since I did not have any vomiting phase or any difficulty while pregnant. Well, I guess being active and vegetarian helped.
I’m thinking now, I really feel a certain fondness towards this sister-in-law of mine. She had always been solicitous and kind to me ever since. Well, it’s refreshing to me since I never really had a sister. I’m close to my cousins but we were all really too cooped up with our respective lives while growing up that we never really had the time to just bond with each other. There was the age difference to consider really and my female cousins who are around my age are living far away too. I grew up mainly around my uncles (Papa’s younger brothers) and my male cousins.
Anyway, I remember feeling surprised to have the hubby’s siblings take to me from day 1. They were simply, accepting… nope, welcoming I think is the more apt word. It was also a surprise to me how they are to each other. Loren or Cristina would be at the farthest end of the city from where we are but they would always oblige their Kuya who would ask them to go home and fetch something for him. Bolo is also the same. It would be 4 am in the morning but he would drag himself out of bed to go to his sister living at the other side of the city who needed to borrow a back pack for an early out-of-town trip. And you wouldn’t hear any word of complaint or misgiving. They just do it automatically. And that generosity they have for each other was also extended to me. From day 1. Imagine that.
I guess that’s what I missed – growing up around siblings. Niño and I are six years apart and as different as night and day in preferences. Our needs are different too so there was never really any instances wherein we needed something from each other. And we always did fight. I’m the perfectionist Ate, always expecting something outstanding from a younger sibling. I was strict, always nagging him to shape up, be more diligent, be a better student, be a more thoughtful son to Mama.. I think I was overly critical of him while growing up.
There was a time when I was much older that I regret being like that to him. I was young, too caught up with the drama of sibling rivalry – jealousy is more like it – to really be the more loving Ate that I should have been. Well, I was also kind to him of course. I wasn’t always the monster Ate. But it was only when I was much older that I shifted into the role of the loving, nurturing and caring older sibling.
I would always worry about him and always try to be more inclusive. I would always urge him to join me in some of my trips but he would always decline. Mountaineering was never his cup of tea. Basketball was his passion. And I guess he was also at the stage wherein he prefers to be with his friends than with family. He was always out of the house that I was tempted to build him a room right next to the basketball court.
In the last few years, especially following his failed marriage, I was the much better ate who was always solicitous around him. At this time, I knew better. I have already learned enough to know the real value of relationships.
I am just truly grateful that I was given that time, that period wherein I was able to show Niño how much I value him. At that time also he was more open to me. He would openly ask me for favors, to buy him some stuff and all that. And I always felt the urge to oblige no matter what. So that is why.
I just truly wish though that I had matured in that aspect of my life much sooner than I did. I think of all the wasted time being the strict Ate when I could have been more loving towards him. But I have also learned to forgive myself. I was young, too hurt, too caught up with my own drama about being unwanted by my parents thus their need to adopt. I did not know any better. Thank God I woke up from the drama in time to be able to make up for all the time that was lost…
Truly, God gives second chances. We just have to be more sensitive and more awake to be able to recognize it for what it is and be able to make the most out of it. I think it’s a tragedy when one is being given a second chance and just did not know it. Because sometimes, that’s all we’ve got. There wouldn’t be any third or fourth chances… So my advice to everyone, life is too short. Let us spend it to be more loving towards the persons around us no matter how unloving they may be. Let us be less critical, less judgmental… In the end, it is always the love that matters. When someone close to you dies, you don’t think about everything that s/he owed you but what you owe that person… Hug the people around you now, draw them close. You’ll never know when you’d lose them.
In a way I pity her. Her mom is out of the country, so she lacked that kind of support. It’s always good to have one’s mom around in a time like this. Even if only to make you feel there is someone you can count on, someone who had been there, gone through the experience of giving birth. I remember in my case before, I would listen intently every time Mama would tell me how it was with her when she was pregnant with me. She told me I’m a lot luckier since I did not have any vomiting phase or any difficulty while pregnant. Well, I guess being active and vegetarian helped.
I’m thinking now, I really feel a certain fondness towards this sister-in-law of mine. She had always been solicitous and kind to me ever since. Well, it’s refreshing to me since I never really had a sister. I’m close to my cousins but we were all really too cooped up with our respective lives while growing up that we never really had the time to just bond with each other. There was the age difference to consider really and my female cousins who are around my age are living far away too. I grew up mainly around my uncles (Papa’s younger brothers) and my male cousins.
Anyway, I remember feeling surprised to have the hubby’s siblings take to me from day 1. They were simply, accepting… nope, welcoming I think is the more apt word. It was also a surprise to me how they are to each other. Loren or Cristina would be at the farthest end of the city from where we are but they would always oblige their Kuya who would ask them to go home and fetch something for him. Bolo is also the same. It would be 4 am in the morning but he would drag himself out of bed to go to his sister living at the other side of the city who needed to borrow a back pack for an early out-of-town trip. And you wouldn’t hear any word of complaint or misgiving. They just do it automatically. And that generosity they have for each other was also extended to me. From day 1. Imagine that.
I guess that’s what I missed – growing up around siblings. Niño and I are six years apart and as different as night and day in preferences. Our needs are different too so there was never really any instances wherein we needed something from each other. And we always did fight. I’m the perfectionist Ate, always expecting something outstanding from a younger sibling. I was strict, always nagging him to shape up, be more diligent, be a better student, be a more thoughtful son to Mama.. I think I was overly critical of him while growing up.
There was a time when I was much older that I regret being like that to him. I was young, too caught up with the drama of sibling rivalry – jealousy is more like it – to really be the more loving Ate that I should have been. Well, I was also kind to him of course. I wasn’t always the monster Ate. But it was only when I was much older that I shifted into the role of the loving, nurturing and caring older sibling.
I would always worry about him and always try to be more inclusive. I would always urge him to join me in some of my trips but he would always decline. Mountaineering was never his cup of tea. Basketball was his passion. And I guess he was also at the stage wherein he prefers to be with his friends than with family. He was always out of the house that I was tempted to build him a room right next to the basketball court.
In the last few years, especially following his failed marriage, I was the much better ate who was always solicitous around him. At this time, I knew better. I have already learned enough to know the real value of relationships.
I am just truly grateful that I was given that time, that period wherein I was able to show Niño how much I value him. At that time also he was more open to me. He would openly ask me for favors, to buy him some stuff and all that. And I always felt the urge to oblige no matter what. So that is why.
I just truly wish though that I had matured in that aspect of my life much sooner than I did. I think of all the wasted time being the strict Ate when I could have been more loving towards him. But I have also learned to forgive myself. I was young, too hurt, too caught up with my own drama about being unwanted by my parents thus their need to adopt. I did not know any better. Thank God I woke up from the drama in time to be able to make up for all the time that was lost…
Truly, God gives second chances. We just have to be more sensitive and more awake to be able to recognize it for what it is and be able to make the most out of it. I think it’s a tragedy when one is being given a second chance and just did not know it. Because sometimes, that’s all we’ve got. There wouldn’t be any third or fourth chances… So my advice to everyone, life is too short. Let us spend it to be more loving towards the persons around us no matter how unloving they may be. Let us be less critical, less judgmental… In the end, it is always the love that matters. When someone close to you dies, you don’t think about everything that s/he owed you but what you owe that person… Hug the people around you now, draw them close. You’ll never know when you’d lose them.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Italian Food, Anyone?
I truly love Italian food. I crave it, I want to cook it, want to share it with friends and loved ones. And, I wouldn't mind eating it everyday hehehe the pictures of the previous post were taken during one of those pasta and pizza rendezvouz with candy and her spouse at Pizza Hut. I'm posting some more pictures of that here.The day before we "remembered" Lola Dicta's birthday, Bolo and I also whipped up a batch of pasta with mussels. Really yummy! We remembered the day Candy cooked us some and felt a craving for it. Candy's version had Alavar Sauce though. Yummy! in our case, we always prepare it with the shells on, its broth and just a little hint of tomato sauce. Some basil and lots of pepper too =) Posting some of the pictures over here as well. Hmm... now, I'm craving for some pasta : (
Monday, May 12, 2008
Fan
I was watching a rerun of Oprah while Baby and Janine were doing their usual “concert” performance. To serve as their microphone, Baby was holding on to an empty bottle of perfume while Janine, a stick of some sort. Typical of them, they were singing spiritedly, jumping all over the place and almost shouting the house down. Twice, I had to shush them up because I could hardly hear what I was “watching.” They would only settle down for a while and then they would be at it again.After a while, something funny really happened. Baby was using the sofa as his stage. I was sitting cross-legged on a folding bed I had set up next to the sofa, intent on what I was watching and not really paying attention to Baby. Suddenly, Baby called out to me and extended his hand to me. I looked at him perplexed. He was muttering something but I still did not understand what he wanted from me.
Mama, who saw the whole thing, laughingly told me Baby wanted me to shake his hand as if I’m a fan of him. Mama said he did the same thing to her earlier. True enough when I shook his hand, he continued singing then after a while broke off and again extended his hand to me. Mama and I were laughing the whole time. It was so cute and amusing at the same time. Mama and I guessed he got it from watching TV. It was really so cute of him.
Yesterday was mother’s day and watching Baby and his antics these days is driving home the point to me that while motherhood is such a daunting responsibility, there are moments such as earlier that makes me feel that it is all worth it. I am thinking, Baby does not need to extend his hand to me, I would always be his number one fan, no matter what.
He’s so smart. At two, he knows a handful of nursery rhymes already, knows his animals and his alphabets. Yesterday, Nonon, a cousin came to visit and brought cake for the matriarchs in the family. Baby was reading his books and Nonon was confusing him, calling the animals all by the wrong names. I felt indignant, urging my cousin to stop since he might only confuse Baby. The irritation I felt however was soon replaced by mirth when Baby confidently “argued”
with his Tatay-Ninong that the “zebra” he was referring to was actually a “giraffe.”It wasn’t his getting the names right that amused or truly pleased me. It was the confidence he displayed. He felt so sure he was right and he very blatantly told a person much, much older than he is that he was wrong. It was the “spirit” that he displayed that totally floored me. Now, if that is not enough reason to make me Baby’s number one fan, I don’t know what else will. Well, to be honest, Baby only had to turn to me with his bright, beaming face and that would be reason enough : )
To all my cousins, aunts, friends and loved ones, Happy Mother's Day to you! : )
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
For Gladys (On Karma)
I could tell you a hundred things about the philosophy of karma and of God's love as well. God will never wish anything bad to fall on you no matter how long you have "ignored" Him. He is above reproach. He, after all, is God.
"Bad" things, however, happen to our life for one reason or another... And one could say it is "karma." But karma is a lot more deeper than your being "punished" for whatever wrong you've done or committed in the past. Karma is a Hindu or a Buddhist "concept." If you translate it in simple terms, it really is just a case of "cause and effect" -- what you sow, you reap. Our universe is designed that way. You plant a seed of an apple and you will naturally grow an apple tree, not a mango tree. In other words, if you sow good deeds then good deeds and good things also come back to you, whether you like it or not. So there is also such a thing as "good" karma.
Colloquially, "karma" is always seen in "negative" terms. That is why if something bad befall us, we would readily think that maybe it is "karma." In truth, anything good happening in our lives is karmic as well. It just so happens that it is "good" karma.
I feel for you and all that you've been through. You've worked so hard for all those things you've lost, not to mention some of them have sentimental value. But I am happy too that you've realized that revenge is not the way to go. It will, in fact, just accumulate more "bad" karmic account for you. It's not always easy to deal with loss, whether it's the loss of material posessions or of loved ones but it won't help things any if you go out there and wish ill on the person/s who were responsible for such a loss. You we're right. Better to pray for them instead.
Cheer up and move on =) If anything, let us be thankful that it were material posessions you've lost and not any of your lovedones. The former you can still find and accumulate while the latter... It's important that you let go of those possessions, not with a heavy heart. Forgive and be grateful that you we're not there when it happened and could have been hurt in the process. For sure, in time, you will earn back all you've lost and even more.
"Bad" things, however, happen to our life for one reason or another... And one could say it is "karma." But karma is a lot more deeper than your being "punished" for whatever wrong you've done or committed in the past. Karma is a Hindu or a Buddhist "concept." If you translate it in simple terms, it really is just a case of "cause and effect" -- what you sow, you reap. Our universe is designed that way. You plant a seed of an apple and you will naturally grow an apple tree, not a mango tree. In other words, if you sow good deeds then good deeds and good things also come back to you, whether you like it or not. So there is also such a thing as "good" karma.
Colloquially, "karma" is always seen in "negative" terms. That is why if something bad befall us, we would readily think that maybe it is "karma." In truth, anything good happening in our lives is karmic as well. It just so happens that it is "good" karma.
I feel for you and all that you've been through. You've worked so hard for all those things you've lost, not to mention some of them have sentimental value. But I am happy too that you've realized that revenge is not the way to go. It will, in fact, just accumulate more "bad" karmic account for you. It's not always easy to deal with loss, whether it's the loss of material posessions or of loved ones but it won't help things any if you go out there and wish ill on the person/s who were responsible for such a loss. You we're right. Better to pray for them instead.
Cheer up and move on =) If anything, let us be thankful that it were material posessions you've lost and not any of your lovedones. The former you can still find and accumulate while the latter... It's important that you let go of those possessions, not with a heavy heart. Forgive and be grateful that you we're not there when it happened and could have been hurt in the process. For sure, in time, you will earn back all you've lost and even more.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
AMOC Reunion of Sorts
Stephen celebrated his birthday yesterday. It has been a while since Bolo and I have been with the AMOC’s. It was fun seeing some of the guys there since not everyone was present. There was a moment when I grew nostalgic of the old days, especially after Renee and Bambie called to talk with everyone there.
Churchill talked to Bolo and Stephen about going on a climb in a few week’s time. I entertained the thought of being a part of it. But let’s see :)
Churchill talked to Bolo and Stephen about going on a climb in a few week’s time. I entertained the thought of being a part of it. But let’s see :)
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sweet Baby
Everyone’s been saying lately that Baby is turning out to be such a naughty, little boy. I would very much want to argue but then looking at that ever-present mischievous gleam in his eyes, I am beginning to fear that such might be the case. In truth, Baby is so playful, and such a tease. More often than not, he sports this impish grin, like a warning sign telling you he is up to no good and that pretty soon you’ll be a victim of one of his tricks.At two years old, Baby is such a bundle of energy, so full of life and mirth. In fact, I always feel rejuvenated arriving at home from work and hearing him squeal in delight – “Nanay!” It’s as if seeing me home after being away all day marks the highlight of his day. Well, I could say the same thing, seeing him after a hard day’s work is something I always look forward to.
Hmm… naughty… maybe Baby is indeed that. But I would also like to say that there is more to him than just that. Yesterday, we were on our way to Mama Fely’s place from Empress when we had a flat tire near Ateneo. Good thing it was a Sunday so there wasn’t much traffic. The bad thing is, most of the shops are practically close so it took Bolo quite a while to find one, and had our tire fixed. By the time he had taken cared of the whole thing, he was practically drowning in sweat. So when he sat down beside me to start driving, I patted him on his forehead and expressed my pity for all the trouble that he had to go through. Then to our surprise, Baby got so excited. He jumped from my lap and turned to Mama who was sitting at the back and said, “Lola! Lola! Panyo! Handkerchief!” Mama then gave him one.
The scene that followed practically floored all of us. Baby, climbed back to my lap, stood up next to the shift gear, reached out to his Tatay with the handkerchief, and then very carefully patted the sweat out of his Tatay’s forehead. It was so sweet of him that I felt the sting of tears. I was so touched that at two years old, Baby already had the initiative to do what he just did. For the love of me, I could not fathom how he came up with the idea to look for a handkerchief to wipe his Tatay’s sweat. Was that “sanskara” as well? If so then Baby really is such a sweet, sweet soul. Naughty or not, Baby would always be a sweet Baby to me for every little gesture that he does that tells me that he is.
I first became aware of Baby’s thoughtfulness one morning when him and his Tatay drove me to the office. Several mornings before that, he and I would always have a discussion brought about by his insistence to go to the office with me. I always had to explain to him that Nanay has to work and that I could not take him with me. But that morning, the moment the car turned at the corner marking the road leading to my office, he turned to me, kissed me by the cheek and said, “Bye, Nanay. Ingat ha? Ingat ha?” (Bye Nanay, take care...)
In an instant I felt the tears come. I was so touched by his gesture that I was loathe to get off the car. For a while I wished he had again insisted on going with me. Walking away would have been a lot easier. That morning, I had to drag my feet off the car and walk towards the office. I felt the desire so strong to just remain where I was and spend the whole day with my son.
Moments such as these make me truly grateful. Grateful for the fact, that I was so blessed to have such a happy, well, naughty, but a sweet Baby as well. I couldn’t ask for any other son. Thank you, Father God.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Night Out with Friends
It was Rochelle’s birthday yesterday and she happens to be in town with her family. She had some work engagement. We agreed to watch a movie in the evening. She’s bringing Benzon along. Candy will also be with Archie. Bolo and I had been discussing watching the same movie over the weekend. And since there was the opportunity, we agreed to watch it last night instead.
But, we very nearly did not make it to the movie. Candy had a sprained ankle and was having second thoughts about going. It turned out also that Mama was stuck at Empress with Baby and Janin. So Bolo and I had to go all the way there just to fetch them.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, Bolo and I were able to catch up with them in the middle of the movie. So it meant we would have to linger and catch the last full show. Last full show – that does not sound appealing at all but knowing that Candy came despite her hurt ankle -- just to show Rochelle we want to be with her on her birthday -- I find it shameful not to show up.
“The Forbidden Kingdom” which starred both Jet Lee and Jacky Chan is not “Crouching Tiger.” Neither it is a “Hero” of sorts but it was a good movie as well. I enjoyed watching it. I also enjoyed the time spent with Rochelle and Candy catching up and making future rendezvous plans with Lourdes and Jeni who were both unable to join us that night.
It turned out that Candy and Archie stuck it out with us. Rochelle and Benzon already went ahead since they also wanted to catch the early trip to Butuan. Half-way through the last full show though, Candy was already dozing off beside me. I pitied her and told her she did not have to wait for us. She told me Archie wanted to watch the movie for the second time.
By the time we got out of the cinema, we were all too sleepy to even think about going somewhere to eat. It was straight home for all of us. We were that tired and sleepy. In our case, home meant going all the way to Empress. Bolo and I were so tempted to look around for accommodations in Davao downtown area. But of course we were also very eager to go home and check on Baby and have him lie close to us. So close I’d feel his breath on my shoulders. It’s like having a taste of heaven here on earth :)
Happy Birthday Rochelle! Wishing you all the best! :) See you soon!
But, we very nearly did not make it to the movie. Candy had a sprained ankle and was having second thoughts about going. It turned out also that Mama was stuck at Empress with Baby and Janin. So Bolo and I had to go all the way there just to fetch them.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, Bolo and I were able to catch up with them in the middle of the movie. So it meant we would have to linger and catch the last full show. Last full show – that does not sound appealing at all but knowing that Candy came despite her hurt ankle -- just to show Rochelle we want to be with her on her birthday -- I find it shameful not to show up.
“The Forbidden Kingdom” which starred both Jet Lee and Jacky Chan is not “Crouching Tiger.” Neither it is a “Hero” of sorts but it was a good movie as well. I enjoyed watching it. I also enjoyed the time spent with Rochelle and Candy catching up and making future rendezvous plans with Lourdes and Jeni who were both unable to join us that night.
It turned out that Candy and Archie stuck it out with us. Rochelle and Benzon already went ahead since they also wanted to catch the early trip to Butuan. Half-way through the last full show though, Candy was already dozing off beside me. I pitied her and told her she did not have to wait for us. She told me Archie wanted to watch the movie for the second time.
By the time we got out of the cinema, we were all too sleepy to even think about going somewhere to eat. It was straight home for all of us. We were that tired and sleepy. In our case, home meant going all the way to Empress. Bolo and I were so tempted to look around for accommodations in Davao downtown area. But of course we were also very eager to go home and check on Baby and have him lie close to us. So close I’d feel his breath on my shoulders. It’s like having a taste of heaven here on earth :)
Happy Birthday Rochelle! Wishing you all the best! :) See you soon!
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Streams of Consciousness
Bolo and I watched a little TV last night, trying to get ourselves tired enough to go to sleep. A game show was on. It had something to do with music – karaoke style. The contestants had to guess the lyrics of the songs. Their genre was pretty varied – foreign and local artists, oldies to current hits. And that’s when the realization struck me big time – noticing the difference in the songs of the past to that of the most recent ones.
I’ve noticed that the lyrics and the themes of the songs of the past revolved on something “pure,” and unadulterated like deep love for a significant other, for parents, for one’s son or daughter. Most of the songs were about hope, enduring faith… about values.
Compare that to today’s songs? What do you get? You get to hear about violence, lust, children hating their parents, getting a boob job, a nose job.. You get to hear about hatred, disgust, discontent… I’m not saying though that it applies to all of the songs these days. Of course there are also those of love, commitment and other values.
Still, it’s a bit disconcerting realizing how too much of the “bad stuff” are being proliferated in today’s media. Music, just like any art, to me is a stream of consciousness wherein the soul finds a way to communicate the truth and wisdom it holds. If today’s music is that of hatred, of lust, what does that tell us about the consciousness that’s prevailing these days?
I’m thinking, here we are we sit at home, with the kids right beside us and we watch while barely-clothed ladies gyrate their hips to songs that have very “suggestive” lyrics. Some might even find the song “amusing,” not realizing that that’s what we are feeding the minds of our youth these days. For me, I always find it alarming seeing parents encouraging and praising their children who are mimicking the “sexy” dancing they see on TV. Other parents find it “amusing” as well. To me, there is nothing amusing about it at all. Far from it.
Ah, I long for the day back when my lola would croon to me songs about deep love and commitment. The kind of love that one takes to the grave and even thereafter, not today’s kind that would bloom and end within the span of a week.
I find it sad and alarming noticing how these days we are not only polluting our rivers and seas but our streams of consciousness as well. What kind of world and future are we shaping our sons and daughters in?
I’ve noticed that the lyrics and the themes of the songs of the past revolved on something “pure,” and unadulterated like deep love for a significant other, for parents, for one’s son or daughter. Most of the songs were about hope, enduring faith… about values.
Compare that to today’s songs? What do you get? You get to hear about violence, lust, children hating their parents, getting a boob job, a nose job.. You get to hear about hatred, disgust, discontent… I’m not saying though that it applies to all of the songs these days. Of course there are also those of love, commitment and other values.
Still, it’s a bit disconcerting realizing how too much of the “bad stuff” are being proliferated in today’s media. Music, just like any art, to me is a stream of consciousness wherein the soul finds a way to communicate the truth and wisdom it holds. If today’s music is that of hatred, of lust, what does that tell us about the consciousness that’s prevailing these days?
I’m thinking, here we are we sit at home, with the kids right beside us and we watch while barely-clothed ladies gyrate their hips to songs that have very “suggestive” lyrics. Some might even find the song “amusing,” not realizing that that’s what we are feeding the minds of our youth these days. For me, I always find it alarming seeing parents encouraging and praising their children who are mimicking the “sexy” dancing they see on TV. Other parents find it “amusing” as well. To me, there is nothing amusing about it at all. Far from it.
Ah, I long for the day back when my lola would croon to me songs about deep love and commitment. The kind of love that one takes to the grave and even thereafter, not today’s kind that would bloom and end within the span of a week.
I find it sad and alarming noticing how these days we are not only polluting our rivers and seas but our streams of consciousness as well. What kind of world and future are we shaping our sons and daughters in?
Friday, April 18, 2008
Of Baby Bottles
I find it very ironic coming across the piece of news above since Bolo and I have just recently bought a glass feeding bottle for Baby. When we watched the movie the other night, we arrived at the cinema quite early so I urged Bolo that we buy Baby’s bottle first.
He is already down to just two with the rest giving way to the usual wear and tear. And it was quite a waste of time and energy having to constantly clean and sterilize them every time we ran out of using both bottles. Resolute about buying glass bottles this time, I stayed away from the really cute and way cheaper bottles available.
It’s unbelievable how many choices are there available these days in the market – Elmo feeding bottles, Winnie the Pooh rubber head in lieu of the usual plain looking bottle cap... You name it, they have it. They look real cute though that in the past, buying bottles would take me so much time. Everything is just so cute that I would linger over my choices.
Last night though, our choices were down to just two – a 5 oz. Pigeon feeding bottle or Chicco which had both 5 oz and 8 oz sizes. Just two since they were the only brands selling glass bottles. Now, why “glass”? Well, with all the talk about hot water on plastic and the possible hazards it poses on children’s health, I guess I am willing to stretch my budget some more.
Paying 450 pesos for an 8 oz bottle, however, is really doing quite a stretch. On the average, “good” plastic bottles could cost around 150 pesos. This already includes the cutsy ones with cartoon character heads for caps. So it’s really like paying 300 hundred pesos more which is already a lot these days. But I guess any mother is willing to pay more where the health of our little ones is concerned.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
If Only's
I knew a moment’s weakness earlier looking at some old pictures taken during one of those family trips. Niño was glaringly absent from the pictures. And I felt as if my heart was being torn to pieces remembering the reason for his absence. Mama simply thought it not important to include him. Well, it was a sudden plan and him being all the way at Empress it was much of a hassle having to go all the way there and inform him. (He had a cell phone before but lost it.) We were also taking the van and were afraid with all of us going, there just might not be enough space left.
It had always been like that. I would have to constantly push to include Niño in our trips. Mama sees it as not that important. To me, it had always been important. No matter how “short” or “insignificant” the gathering may be. He is, after all, family also.
I remember how after my wedding, with most of the “clan” being there, on spur of the moment we decided to go visit Aunty Artem’s place in Makilala. We wanted to visit a nearby hot spring resort there as well. I had to urge Mama to move heaven and earth just so Niño could also come along. Good thing he was indeed able to come.
I also remember how I had to fight for Niño’s place as one of the groom’s men during my wedding. Mama thought it much of a hassle having to mind for his Barong and the other stuff he needs on top of the things that needed our attention for the wedding. To me, it was out of the question. Hassle or not, Niño is my only sibling after all. And I don’t see why I would have to bother about the other groomsmen’s barongs and not his. I’d be more than glad to fuss over him than the others.
I remember feeling irritated then why I still had to point this out to Mama. But of course I understood her too. To her, it’s a triviality but to me, it’s an opportunity to make a family member feel he is part of the family. What is a little hassle compared to the opportunity to make someone you love feel that he is important and loved?
I just find it ironic how we always take things like that for granted. We tend to forget that sometimes little gestures such as this counts a lot. True, it might prove to be such a hassle but isn’t it always like that? We wouldn’t mind going through all the hassles, all sorts of sacrifice for a loved one?
I know during all those instances, Mama took it for granted that there will always be next time, next trips that Niño could come and join us without our having to go through all the hassles. To her, it’s just a short trip. We won’t be sleeping over. I’m sure for her, it’s okay for Niño to miss on all of that. I mean who would have thought that Niño would only be lent to us for such a short time? And that there will be no more other trips, other next time with him around?
I guess I’m crying for the missed opportunities, for the times we could have exerted more effort to give him the comfort and the convenience that we could have given him if only we knew then that we will lose him much sooner than we thought. I think I mourn for all those times we could have spent with him but only we did not for one reason or the other. Looking back, remembering the length of time he spent living at Empress alone, I cry for the sheer folly of it. How we wasted all those time living apart when we only have but a little time to spend with him.
A part of me is angry why I haven’t been more forceful, more pushy to make things happen then. And also, to instill in Mama the value of seizing every moment. Ever so often she and I get into some kind of misunderstanding. For a number of times I’ve been urging her to take trips with us. And more often than not such conversations would end up in arguments with both of us not accomplishing anything but hurt each other’s feelings.
To me, she is such a “kill joy.” Instead of warming up to the idea she would just point out to me there are far more important things to “throw” my money on. She would tell me I should rather save the money or pay in full my credit card bills, etc. etc. She would always tell me that I’m very wasteful, could think of nothing but just “fun” and not being wise about money.
I know to her, I’m probably being foolish, thinking only of today and not saving for tomorrow or for the rainy days to come. There might be some truth in that but still, I also think the present is very important. We could not just live our lives always thinking about what is to come. After all, who knows what the future will bring?
Look where did that get us? I feel that we missed out on a lot of things because she is so fearful about a lot of things also; being too preoccupied about the future; or simply being pessimistic. I keep wondering now if she would have acted differently then had she known we would lose Papa and Niño so early on? Would she have made some allowances for time, planned for more trips, see to it that we spend more time together? Because I know I would have.
Earlier, Bolo and I got into a misunderstanding owing to one of his moods again and I felt myself resenting him. I resented the fact that I’ve shared more things and opportunities with him than I’ve had with my brother. I find it ironic especially noting that my brother and I had gone a long, long way than Bolo and I did. I just felt that I did Bolo more favors than I did my brother. And yet here he is, causing me more pain than my brother ever did. I know it’s not good to feel this way at all but I do acknowledge that I feel it now. And I know I also had to honor such feelings.
It had always been like that. I would have to constantly push to include Niño in our trips. Mama sees it as not that important. To me, it had always been important. No matter how “short” or “insignificant” the gathering may be. He is, after all, family also.
I remember how after my wedding, with most of the “clan” being there, on spur of the moment we decided to go visit Aunty Artem’s place in Makilala. We wanted to visit a nearby hot spring resort there as well. I had to urge Mama to move heaven and earth just so Niño could also come along. Good thing he was indeed able to come.
I also remember how I had to fight for Niño’s place as one of the groom’s men during my wedding. Mama thought it much of a hassle having to mind for his Barong and the other stuff he needs on top of the things that needed our attention for the wedding. To me, it was out of the question. Hassle or not, Niño is my only sibling after all. And I don’t see why I would have to bother about the other groomsmen’s barongs and not his. I’d be more than glad to fuss over him than the others.
I remember feeling irritated then why I still had to point this out to Mama. But of course I understood her too. To her, it’s a triviality but to me, it’s an opportunity to make a family member feel he is part of the family. What is a little hassle compared to the opportunity to make someone you love feel that he is important and loved?
I just find it ironic how we always take things like that for granted. We tend to forget that sometimes little gestures such as this counts a lot. True, it might prove to be such a hassle but isn’t it always like that? We wouldn’t mind going through all the hassles, all sorts of sacrifice for a loved one?
I know during all those instances, Mama took it for granted that there will always be next time, next trips that Niño could come and join us without our having to go through all the hassles. To her, it’s just a short trip. We won’t be sleeping over. I’m sure for her, it’s okay for Niño to miss on all of that. I mean who would have thought that Niño would only be lent to us for such a short time? And that there will be no more other trips, other next time with him around?
I guess I’m crying for the missed opportunities, for the times we could have exerted more effort to give him the comfort and the convenience that we could have given him if only we knew then that we will lose him much sooner than we thought. I think I mourn for all those times we could have spent with him but only we did not for one reason or the other. Looking back, remembering the length of time he spent living at Empress alone, I cry for the sheer folly of it. How we wasted all those time living apart when we only have but a little time to spend with him.
A part of me is angry why I haven’t been more forceful, more pushy to make things happen then. And also, to instill in Mama the value of seizing every moment. Ever so often she and I get into some kind of misunderstanding. For a number of times I’ve been urging her to take trips with us. And more often than not such conversations would end up in arguments with both of us not accomplishing anything but hurt each other’s feelings.
To me, she is such a “kill joy.” Instead of warming up to the idea she would just point out to me there are far more important things to “throw” my money on. She would tell me I should rather save the money or pay in full my credit card bills, etc. etc. She would always tell me that I’m very wasteful, could think of nothing but just “fun” and not being wise about money.
I know to her, I’m probably being foolish, thinking only of today and not saving for tomorrow or for the rainy days to come. There might be some truth in that but still, I also think the present is very important. We could not just live our lives always thinking about what is to come. After all, who knows what the future will bring?
Look where did that get us? I feel that we missed out on a lot of things because she is so fearful about a lot of things also; being too preoccupied about the future; or simply being pessimistic. I keep wondering now if she would have acted differently then had she known we would lose Papa and Niño so early on? Would she have made some allowances for time, planned for more trips, see to it that we spend more time together? Because I know I would have.
Earlier, Bolo and I got into a misunderstanding owing to one of his moods again and I felt myself resenting him. I resented the fact that I’ve shared more things and opportunities with him than I’ve had with my brother. I find it ironic especially noting that my brother and I had gone a long, long way than Bolo and I did. I just felt that I did Bolo more favors than I did my brother. And yet here he is, causing me more pain than my brother ever did. I know it’s not good to feel this way at all but I do acknowledge that I feel it now. And I know I also had to honor such feelings.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Just But a Tiny Speck (On Parenthood and Gratitude)
Last night, some sense of pride and contentment washed over me as I watched Baby strut (he does strut, believe me hehe to me, it implies the fact that Baby has some healthy dose of self-confidence :)) his way out of the cinema. It’s his first time to watch a movie at the big screen. I have had my misgivings, after all he’s only a little over 2 years old. I wouldn’t want him traumatized in any way. I don’t know what being inside a huge, dark place, confronted by large images and loud sound would do to Baby.
Prior to watching the movie, I’ve tried to prepare them as best as I could. Janin was there too and it was her first time as well. But she’s already 5 years old so I’m a little less worried where she is concerned. I tried not to entertain thoughts of them both cowering in the darkness or crying out loud, begging to go out. I wouldn’t want that to happen.
To prepare them, I told them that the place we are going to is dark. I told them that over and over just so they would not be shocked upon entering the theater. I told them also that we are going to watch some cartoons but it’s going to be on a very large T.V. Baby was nodding his head the whole time (which was really cute) but I still had my doubts as to whether or not they fully understood what I mean.
The ticket cost 70 pesos each and there were four of us. It was quite costly. But I know we are paying for the experience (Baby and Janin’s) more than the movie itself so in my mind we were actually getting a bargain. I just hoped though that it would indeed be a nice experience for the both of them. And it was! :) And how happy I was. Back at the car on our way home, I couldn’t stop expressing my thank you’s for the experience, for Baby’s being able to take it all in really well, for having the money to watch the movie, etc. I said that while I cradled Baby on my lap. I want to instill in him the value of gratitude this early on. It had become a ritual for both of us every time I feel we have something to be thankful for.
Those are just “little” things true but I just feel that we take these things for granted a lot of times that we miss out on the chance to allow ourselves some “little” scenarios of happiness as well. True, watching a movie might be a common thing to most of us but for some out there, it is totally a luxury. Others don’t even have enough food to eat. This was impressed upon me further when Bolo and I stopped by a gasoline station to gas up.
Bolo noticed this little boy crossing the street on his own, unmindful of the vehicles speeding his way as well. Bolo pointed this out to me and wondered out loud where the “father” of the kid was. I was as concerned as he was but it also caught my fancy how he readily looked for the “father” and not the mother. I wondered a bit if it was a male thing. Bolo readily thought of the father since the role being in question is that of being the protector. It was just a little remark from him but it taught me a great deal about how he thinks on these matters. It also made me wonder about my own reaction. Who would I readily seek out – the mother or the father? Most likely, I’ll ask where the “parents” of the kid are. Taking care of our children after all is a shared responsibility.
Anyway, when the boy came close to Bolo’s window, Bolo lectured him about the danger of crossing the street. He asked the kid where his father was. (I rolled my eyes at this point wondering why it had to be the father hehehe) The kid was asking for money but we did not give him any. That’s when Bolo saw another kid close by doing the same thing. They must have been friends or siblings. So that was why they were there. They were out, risking themselves so they could have money. Hopefully, it is for food and not for something else. They seem to look like they just turned 5 or 6 years old. Bolo and I looked at each other and I told him we really have to take good care of ourselves since we could not leave Baby in such a state. God forbid!
It was an interesting night, another one of those that made me realize I truly have a lot to be thankful for. The movie we watched, by the way, was “Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who!” which was interesting in itself. It was cartoons but I sat there, convinced that the context and the theme with which the whole movie revolves on would best be understood by adult audiences. It is a reminder that there are times that we take things or ourselves too seriously when for all we know, we could just be a tiny speck sitting on a flower being held by a lovable elephant named Horton. :)
Prior to watching the movie, I’ve tried to prepare them as best as I could. Janin was there too and it was her first time as well. But she’s already 5 years old so I’m a little less worried where she is concerned. I tried not to entertain thoughts of them both cowering in the darkness or crying out loud, begging to go out. I wouldn’t want that to happen.
To prepare them, I told them that the place we are going to is dark. I told them that over and over just so they would not be shocked upon entering the theater. I told them also that we are going to watch some cartoons but it’s going to be on a very large T.V. Baby was nodding his head the whole time (which was really cute) but I still had my doubts as to whether or not they fully understood what I mean.
The ticket cost 70 pesos each and there were four of us. It was quite costly. But I know we are paying for the experience (Baby and Janin’s) more than the movie itself so in my mind we were actually getting a bargain. I just hoped though that it would indeed be a nice experience for the both of them. And it was! :) And how happy I was. Back at the car on our way home, I couldn’t stop expressing my thank you’s for the experience, for Baby’s being able to take it all in really well, for having the money to watch the movie, etc. I said that while I cradled Baby on my lap. I want to instill in him the value of gratitude this early on. It had become a ritual for both of us every time I feel we have something to be thankful for.
Those are just “little” things true but I just feel that we take these things for granted a lot of times that we miss out on the chance to allow ourselves some “little” scenarios of happiness as well. True, watching a movie might be a common thing to most of us but for some out there, it is totally a luxury. Others don’t even have enough food to eat. This was impressed upon me further when Bolo and I stopped by a gasoline station to gas up.
Bolo noticed this little boy crossing the street on his own, unmindful of the vehicles speeding his way as well. Bolo pointed this out to me and wondered out loud where the “father” of the kid was. I was as concerned as he was but it also caught my fancy how he readily looked for the “father” and not the mother. I wondered a bit if it was a male thing. Bolo readily thought of the father since the role being in question is that of being the protector. It was just a little remark from him but it taught me a great deal about how he thinks on these matters. It also made me wonder about my own reaction. Who would I readily seek out – the mother or the father? Most likely, I’ll ask where the “parents” of the kid are. Taking care of our children after all is a shared responsibility.
Anyway, when the boy came close to Bolo’s window, Bolo lectured him about the danger of crossing the street. He asked the kid where his father was. (I rolled my eyes at this point wondering why it had to be the father hehehe) The kid was asking for money but we did not give him any. That’s when Bolo saw another kid close by doing the same thing. They must have been friends or siblings. So that was why they were there. They were out, risking themselves so they could have money. Hopefully, it is for food and not for something else. They seem to look like they just turned 5 or 6 years old. Bolo and I looked at each other and I told him we really have to take good care of ourselves since we could not leave Baby in such a state. God forbid!
It was an interesting night, another one of those that made me realize I truly have a lot to be thankful for. The movie we watched, by the way, was “Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who!” which was interesting in itself. It was cartoons but I sat there, convinced that the context and the theme with which the whole movie revolves on would best be understood by adult audiences. It is a reminder that there are times that we take things or ourselves too seriously when for all we know, we could just be a tiny speck sitting on a flower being held by a lovable elephant named Horton. :)
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Daydreaming
For five days straight I've been glued to my bed, bogged down by a real bad case of flu. I tried to report to work last Tuesday but only ended up calling Hubby to come and fetch me. I know I should have been happy finally getting a break and getting a well-needed rest. But nah! There’s a big difference about lazing all day under the shade, book in one hand and a fruity drink on the other than lying in bed, wheezing and sneezing your way to your last roll of tissue. Not to mention to have a humungous head ache to boot.
Today, the fever is gone though I’m not completely healed yet. I still have a bit of a cold and the occasional cough but thank God gone are the aching limbs and joints that I endured for several days. So right now, I sit here dreaming about having the chance to truly enjoy summer – take a trip with the family probably on some beach escapade or some mountain getaway. I’m so eager to get out of the house that even the thought of checking into one of the Davao Hotels downtown is proving to be very appealing. Haaay, I couldn’t wait to finally get better.
Today, the fever is gone though I’m not completely healed yet. I still have a bit of a cold and the occasional cough but thank God gone are the aching limbs and joints that I endured for several days. So right now, I sit here dreaming about having the chance to truly enjoy summer – take a trip with the family probably on some beach escapade or some mountain getaway. I’m so eager to get out of the house that even the thought of checking into one of the Davao Hotels downtown is proving to be very appealing. Haaay, I couldn’t wait to finally get better.
Monday, March 24, 2008
I am Yours
You Are Mine by David Haas
I was feeling sorry the whole day because I left my flash disk in the car and I had wanted to listen to my Don Moen songs. I was a bit tired and I wanted to start the week right. Without being really conscious about it, I've been humming the above song while working.
It had become a personal favorite since the first time I heard it during a Mass I attended at Redemptorist Church. It was sung during the communion and I just felt the tears come at the end of the song with the words, "I love you and you are mine..." Since then I look forward to hearing and singing it again in church.
Having stumbled upon the song today sure is a good thing. An officemate posted it over at her multiply. I feel as if the song sought me as I sought it. I guess that's how it really is in life -- one just have to be clear in your mind as to what it is you really want and that very thing you seek will in turn seek and find you.
Family and friends, please find the time to view and listen to the video. It'll be worth your while, promise.
I was feeling sorry the whole day because I left my flash disk in the car and I had wanted to listen to my Don Moen songs. I was a bit tired and I wanted to start the week right. Without being really conscious about it, I've been humming the above song while working.
It had become a personal favorite since the first time I heard it during a Mass I attended at Redemptorist Church. It was sung during the communion and I just felt the tears come at the end of the song with the words, "I love you and you are mine..." Since then I look forward to hearing and singing it again in church.
Having stumbled upon the song today sure is a good thing. An officemate posted it over at her multiply. I feel as if the song sought me as I sought it. I guess that's how it really is in life -- one just have to be clear in your mind as to what it is you really want and that very thing you seek will in turn seek and find you.
Family and friends, please find the time to view and listen to the video. It'll be worth your while, promise.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Remembering
Yesterday, Bolo watched a program on TV on the life of Jesus, -- from His childhood to His death and resurrection. I was happy that he stuck with it till the end. Having Bolo very interested on the story of Jesus certainly made me very happy. I remember I had to coax him just to watch “The Passion of Christ” with me a few years ago.
His “spiritual formation” is “complex.” Well, sort of. His parents were Catholic and so he was baptized as one. His stepmother was Catholic also so he grew up going to Sunday masses as well. When he was in High School though, his uncle took him “under his wing.” They belong to another sect. Bolo attended services and Bible studies with his uncle and eventually got “baptized.”
There are times when Bolo and I don’t agree on certain things when it comes to faith. When I urged him to watch “The Passion,” he told me he could not understand why it had to be retold again and again. He said he could not understand why we had to repeat the same prayer all over again. He was still very much stubborn then and I felt that he wouldn’t “hear” me anyway if I try to explain.
But back to Bolo's question, why do we remember? Why do we feel the need to retell the story of His passion, death and resurrection over and over again? Because, there is a need to remember. We need to remember that we humans, in our folly, sometimes crucify others only for the reason that they make us look into ourselves and notice our own imperfections. We need to remember that sometimes we bear false witness against others out of envy and greed. We need to remember that we live in a world where it is not easy to be good and have the purest of intentions because there are others who would only hate you for it. Most of all, we need to remember that Someone went through the most painful experience and humiliation just so He could demonstrate to us how life should be lived.
His “spiritual formation” is “complex.” Well, sort of. His parents were Catholic and so he was baptized as one. His stepmother was Catholic also so he grew up going to Sunday masses as well. When he was in High School though, his uncle took him “under his wing.” They belong to another sect. Bolo attended services and Bible studies with his uncle and eventually got “baptized.”
There are times when Bolo and I don’t agree on certain things when it comes to faith. When I urged him to watch “The Passion,” he told me he could not understand why it had to be retold again and again. He said he could not understand why we had to repeat the same prayer all over again. He was still very much stubborn then and I felt that he wouldn’t “hear” me anyway if I try to explain.
But back to Bolo's question, why do we remember? Why do we feel the need to retell the story of His passion, death and resurrection over and over again? Because, there is a need to remember. We need to remember that we humans, in our folly, sometimes crucify others only for the reason that they make us look into ourselves and notice our own imperfections. We need to remember that sometimes we bear false witness against others out of envy and greed. We need to remember that we live in a world where it is not easy to be good and have the purest of intentions because there are others who would only hate you for it. Most of all, we need to remember that Someone went through the most painful experience and humiliation just so He could demonstrate to us how life should be lived.
Friday, March 14, 2008
What GMA Can Learn From Gov. Spritzer of NY
...you should resign when your integrity as the leader is already put in question.
For all the controversies this administration had managed to get itself into -- from the fertilizer scandal, to the "Hello Garci" issue, and now the NBN ZTE anomalous deal -- if GMA really is a person of character, then she should have taken it upon herself to show everyone she is a person of integrity and resign.
She should have resigned amidst the Garci issue. That placed her legitimacy as the president of the nation in question. But what did she do? She appeared on national television wearing a mournful expression on her face and just said, "sorry!" And then here comes the ZTE controversy. Amidst protests and rallies, she goes about with her work, appearing in the news lauching some project or program. She's acting as if nothing is happening at all!
I wonder what GMA wants to leave the world as her legacy and what her values are. I wonder what went on inside the head of Gov. Spritzer that lead him to resign and what is it with Mrs. Arroyo that make her do otherwise?
Have I been a lot younger and more idealistic than I am now, I know I could have said a mouthful where this issue is concerned. Bah!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Affirmation
As if to affirm my entry below and my thoughts about it lately, Bolo and I again had a row this morning. It's been quite a while since we last fought. Actually, he's really been sweet lately and thus there was really nothing left to do but to return the favor. Up until this morning.
And yet there he was. He left just a few moments ago to bring me lunch. In our haste this morning, I totally forgot about it. Anyway, when he brought me lunch he pointed out to me how he still worry about me despite my being "maldita." :p I retorted back that it wasn't I who started it but him. Oh well, I guess that's really part of every relationships. I really just pray that we outgrow this particular stage. It just gets a little tiring at times, having to quarrel all the time. I like it best when he and I are deep in conversation over nothing, when we would talk about nothing in particular. It's as if we just want to hear each other's voice or just be in each other's company...
And yet there he was. He left just a few moments ago to bring me lunch. In our haste this morning, I totally forgot about it. Anyway, when he brought me lunch he pointed out to me how he still worry about me despite my being "maldita." :p I retorted back that it wasn't I who started it but him. Oh well, I guess that's really part of every relationships. I really just pray that we outgrow this particular stage. It just gets a little tiring at times, having to quarrel all the time. I like it best when he and I are deep in conversation over nothing, when we would talk about nothing in particular. It's as if we just want to hear each other's voice or just be in each other's company...
Saturday, March 08, 2008
The Best Kind of Love
“The best love is the kind that awakens the soul;
that makes us reach for more,
that plants the fire in our hearts
and brings peace to our minds.
That's what I hope to give you forever.”
that makes us reach for more,
that plants the fire in our hearts
and brings peace to our minds.
That's what I hope to give you forever.”
-- Noah
I’m currently watching, “The Notebook” for the second time – tonight. Yup, the same night. It was that good. It’s that part now that they had a confrontation about Allie getting confused all over again about what she really wants. After spending two days of reconnecting with Noah and rebuilding all that they’ve lost, she again falters when confronted by her current reality and the thought of disappointing her parents and hurting her fiancé.
In the scene Noah pointed out it’s going to be hard and difficult, noting how they fight and argue a lot. He said they would have to work at it everyday but that it is alright because he wanted Allie, all that she is. This includes her being a pain in the ass 99% of the time.
I watched this scene for the second time and for the second time I felt something resonate within me. For the past two days I’ve been holed out at home owing to Bolo’s getting sick. He got sick after the climb. He complained of a really bad headache and body ache. He had a bad cough too.
Yesterday, he had his Dad come around to give him a massage. I teased him no end even with his Dad around. I told him he’s all grown up already, making his own decisions, getting his own way most of the time and yet there he was calling right out to Daddy when he’s feeling sick.
In truth I was also feeling a bit self-conscious. I don’t want his Dad to think I couldn’t take care of Bolo well enough that he had to call for “reinforcement.” But I appreciated the whole experience. It gave me a peek as to the kind of relationship that he and his siblings have with their father.
I have always wondered how despite their household set-up he and his siblings get along well with their father and each other. Well, despite their having different Mums that is. There’s just a certain closeness that is quite evident to see. And well, the respect is there too. I mean for all that their father did, it’s obvious that they don’t disrespect him at all. On the contrary. I guess it’s really because for all their father’s confusion as to where his heart should lay, he was never confused as to how he feels and care for his children. I guess no one could really fault him where that is concerned.
Anyway, the last two days was really something. I just found out Bolo is quite a baby when sick. His uncle just recently passed away and after just two weeks, his cousin also did. Both were cases of cardiac arrest and his cousin was only 28 years old. So with all the ache he’s feeling, Bolo is starting to imagine there is something wrong with his heart as well. He thought it is something that all Bolo’s in the world share – a weak heart.
The funny thing is, he got into this weird mood. For the whole day he would interrupt whatever it is we are talking about just to make me swear I’m not going to marry someone else if ever he goes first. He would then follow this up with, “I promise I won’t marry someone else should you go first. Promise.” Imagine that!
Bolo is such a baby and I just found out he’s doubly so when sick. He could not bring himself to get water even if it is just a few paces away from him. It had to be me. And he also found 101 errands for me to do for him. I was like indignant at first, I did not want to be bossed around hehehe But I tented to him as best as I could.
Back to the movie, I identified with that particular scene because that’s how Bolo and I are. We always fight over the littlest of things. Sometimes it’s just over the tone of his voice. There are times he said some things in a manner that would really irritate the h--- out of me. But I guess, that’s just it really. Despite that and a thousand more irritant scenarios, we really love each other and wouldn’t want to be with someone else. Maybe that is what drove Bolo’s insistence that I swear I wouldn’t marry someone else in the event that we would part. It’s his way of saying that he couldn’t really imagine himself being with someone else and that he’s hoping I feel the same way too.
There are times when we are in the middle of a very bitter quarrel that I would stop and think how life could have been if I’ve chosen differently. There are also times when Bolo would be at his worst and I would wonder how I’ve come to love this person. But then again, after the flames and everything is back to normal, I would again see a thousand more reasons why I loved, still love and chose this person.
Monday, March 03, 2008
On Loving Better
Funny. I sit here finishing an entry to my travel blog when Akon’s “Blame on Me” came blaring from my head phones. I felt being taunted by it. I felt like a character in some Greek mythology with the gods looking down and playing a trick on me. I could almost picture them hovering above me in some cloud enjoying the fact that they have yet found another victim of their very dry sense of humor. Well, I am amused by the coincidence myself.
There I was a moment ago, wallowing in my “tampo” to Bolo. I was contemplating the soundness of texting Bolo a very “hurting” message, painting him a very dramatic picture of how I spend the last three days practically sleepless tending to a very sick Baby while he did not bother at all to move heaven and earth just to text me how he was.
We have just gotten off the phone. I’ve been trying to contact him all day, owing to the fact that Baby really looked so bad this morning I wanted to take him to the hospital until Mama told me to observe him for a little more time. When I heard a very irritated voice explaining to me why he could not text and asking about how Baby was, I felt my temper rise.
I don’t know what I was expecting really but I sure did not expect to hear that tone of voice from him. Maybe I was expecting to hear a hint of concern, or him asking me how I was too… So when I got that reception instead, I think I blew my top a little.
Seeing how bad the weather was the past days, I have also been worried about how he was. It had rained the whole weekend here so I could only imagine how it was up there. I’ve spent the entire weekend erasing the thought of him slipping from some boulder and lying hurt in the ground. I keep reminding myself that thoughts become things and how much I wouldn’t want any of that to happen to him. Every night for the past three days I’ve been praying that he come home to us whole, alive and well on top of praying for Baby’s getting well real quick.
So when I got the message asking me to call him, I was quite ready to ask him how he was and to share with him Baby’s condition but instead we got into an argument. I guess we were both tired and sleepless. I guess he and I are both exhausted and thus quite short of patience.
I felt stung after our phone conversation. I was really fighting the urge to send him an “emotionally nagging” text. But of course, common sense eventually prevailed. What good will that amount to anyway?
This was not the first time this happened. More often than not, our arguments stem from some kind of misunderstanding. Most of the time it’s me blowing my top for him not being able to meet what I’ve expected of him.
I’ve been observant enough to know that this happens to a lot of couples too. My friends tell me about it. So do my peers and the women I work with. Often times, women wail about the significant others’ insensitivity. Detaching myself from the situation I ask myself, “But what is being insensitive really?” Can someone please give me a clear definition of the word?
In my experience, I accuse Bolo of the crime when he would fail to acknowledge the “sacrifices” I’ve made, no matter how “little” it may seem. In some cases, it’s his not being able to give me special attention on special occasions. It’s him putting other people’s comfort over mine. And so on and so forth.
Unattached, I could see that it’s all drama really. I guess this is what reading all of those fairy tales and love stories do to a woman’s psyche. We tend to believe we are all damsels in distress and it is the men-in-our-live’s job to “rescue” us and to give us everything that we need. I guess this is also the reason why there are women out there who think their lives incomplete if they don’t have a love life of sorts.
In truth, it is really just up to us to complete ourselves. Well, we are pretty complete as we are. Broken maybe, but never incomplete really. I guess it’s not really the “lack of something” that haunts us or that makes us unhappy. It’s really just the failure to acknowledge that life in itself is a wonderful gift already. It is one’s being unaware that there are a lot of things in life that we ought to be thankful for. It’s being ignorant about the fact that we only need to look within and not out there for the very thing that would make us happy.
I’ve known this truth a long, long time ago and yet every now and then I still find myself right smack in the middle of a melodrama that at times I even orchestrated myself. I ask myself now, “for what?” Why is it that despite learning this truth I still fall and stumble and commit the same mistakes? Most especially so if it concerns my relationship with my significant other?
Is it some kind of a chronic need? To be constantly a figure in a love-hate melodrama? Is it to answer some kind of need to be reassured that the man in my life loves me like Prince Charming would Cinderella? Or is this borne about by years of conditioning reading all those love stories and watching far too many telenovelas? By doing so, have I unwittingly fed my mind with some distorted notion of what love between a man and woman should be?
For all my uncertainties, there is only one thing I am certain of. It’s that I would not want to waste a lifetime feeding some kind of distorted need. Spend my life chasing some kind of fantasy in my head, moving heaven and earth -- making the lives of the persons around me hell – just so I could satisfy the need to make my reality fit the “perfect” picture I’ve conjured in my head. I think, looking back, I’ve been guilty of that. Only, I wasn’t too aware at that time. And it is causing me sorrow now to have realized that. Because, those people that I could have loved well are no longer in my life now. I could no longer atone for all the unloving actions I did in the past borne out of my own ignorance.
Now, I have grown over the years and have learned to love better. And it’s just sad that there are some persons in my life who have gone ahead and not benefited from this change in me. Persons who really matter like my Dad and brother.
I love them so dearly and I’m sad knowing that they were in my life when I was still groping with truth and trying to define who I really am as a person. If there is one thing I regret in this lifetime it is that I feel I was not able to love them well. Oh I know that I have, somewhat. It’s just that being a mother myself now, being a wife, having gone through so much in life than I’ve had in the past, I am somewhat a better person. And things are a lot clearer to me now than it was then. I just wish they have come to know the love I could give them now… I love you both Pa, Nin and I sincerely wish for your peace. The soul is eternal and I know we will come to meet each other again some other time. I look forward to the day.
There I was a moment ago, wallowing in my “tampo” to Bolo. I was contemplating the soundness of texting Bolo a very “hurting” message, painting him a very dramatic picture of how I spend the last three days practically sleepless tending to a very sick Baby while he did not bother at all to move heaven and earth just to text me how he was.
We have just gotten off the phone. I’ve been trying to contact him all day, owing to the fact that Baby really looked so bad this morning I wanted to take him to the hospital until Mama told me to observe him for a little more time. When I heard a very irritated voice explaining to me why he could not text and asking about how Baby was, I felt my temper rise.
I don’t know what I was expecting really but I sure did not expect to hear that tone of voice from him. Maybe I was expecting to hear a hint of concern, or him asking me how I was too… So when I got that reception instead, I think I blew my top a little.
Seeing how bad the weather was the past days, I have also been worried about how he was. It had rained the whole weekend here so I could only imagine how it was up there. I’ve spent the entire weekend erasing the thought of him slipping from some boulder and lying hurt in the ground. I keep reminding myself that thoughts become things and how much I wouldn’t want any of that to happen to him. Every night for the past three days I’ve been praying that he come home to us whole, alive and well on top of praying for Baby’s getting well real quick.
So when I got the message asking me to call him, I was quite ready to ask him how he was and to share with him Baby’s condition but instead we got into an argument. I guess we were both tired and sleepless. I guess he and I are both exhausted and thus quite short of patience.
I felt stung after our phone conversation. I was really fighting the urge to send him an “emotionally nagging” text. But of course, common sense eventually prevailed. What good will that amount to anyway?
This was not the first time this happened. More often than not, our arguments stem from some kind of misunderstanding. Most of the time it’s me blowing my top for him not being able to meet what I’ve expected of him.
I’ve been observant enough to know that this happens to a lot of couples too. My friends tell me about it. So do my peers and the women I work with. Often times, women wail about the significant others’ insensitivity. Detaching myself from the situation I ask myself, “But what is being insensitive really?” Can someone please give me a clear definition of the word?
In my experience, I accuse Bolo of the crime when he would fail to acknowledge the “sacrifices” I’ve made, no matter how “little” it may seem. In some cases, it’s his not being able to give me special attention on special occasions. It’s him putting other people’s comfort over mine. And so on and so forth.
Unattached, I could see that it’s all drama really. I guess this is what reading all of those fairy tales and love stories do to a woman’s psyche. We tend to believe we are all damsels in distress and it is the men-in-our-live’s job to “rescue” us and to give us everything that we need. I guess this is also the reason why there are women out there who think their lives incomplete if they don’t have a love life of sorts.
In truth, it is really just up to us to complete ourselves. Well, we are pretty complete as we are. Broken maybe, but never incomplete really. I guess it’s not really the “lack of something” that haunts us or that makes us unhappy. It’s really just the failure to acknowledge that life in itself is a wonderful gift already. It is one’s being unaware that there are a lot of things in life that we ought to be thankful for. It’s being ignorant about the fact that we only need to look within and not out there for the very thing that would make us happy.
I’ve known this truth a long, long time ago and yet every now and then I still find myself right smack in the middle of a melodrama that at times I even orchestrated myself. I ask myself now, “for what?” Why is it that despite learning this truth I still fall and stumble and commit the same mistakes? Most especially so if it concerns my relationship with my significant other?
Is it some kind of a chronic need? To be constantly a figure in a love-hate melodrama? Is it to answer some kind of need to be reassured that the man in my life loves me like Prince Charming would Cinderella? Or is this borne about by years of conditioning reading all those love stories and watching far too many telenovelas? By doing so, have I unwittingly fed my mind with some distorted notion of what love between a man and woman should be?
For all my uncertainties, there is only one thing I am certain of. It’s that I would not want to waste a lifetime feeding some kind of distorted need. Spend my life chasing some kind of fantasy in my head, moving heaven and earth -- making the lives of the persons around me hell – just so I could satisfy the need to make my reality fit the “perfect” picture I’ve conjured in my head. I think, looking back, I’ve been guilty of that. Only, I wasn’t too aware at that time. And it is causing me sorrow now to have realized that. Because, those people that I could have loved well are no longer in my life now. I could no longer atone for all the unloving actions I did in the past borne out of my own ignorance.
Now, I have grown over the years and have learned to love better. And it’s just sad that there are some persons in my life who have gone ahead and not benefited from this change in me. Persons who really matter like my Dad and brother.
I love them so dearly and I’m sad knowing that they were in my life when I was still groping with truth and trying to define who I really am as a person. If there is one thing I regret in this lifetime it is that I feel I was not able to love them well. Oh I know that I have, somewhat. It’s just that being a mother myself now, being a wife, having gone through so much in life than I’ve had in the past, I am somewhat a better person. And things are a lot clearer to me now than it was then. I just wish they have come to know the love I could give them now… I love you both Pa, Nin and I sincerely wish for your peace. The soul is eternal and I know we will come to meet each other again some other time. I look forward to the day.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Apo
Leaning on the railings of the veranda and peering in the darkness, I could just make out the outline of Apo’s peak. I look at it a little wistfully, dreaming of the day that I’ll find myself in her midst again. More than that though, I wonder in what part of that Great Mountain is Bolo, and his company, in right now. It’s as if I believe that if I look at it intensely enough, then I would be able to even vaguely discern Bolo’s figure in the darkness. But, I felt the connection all the same. I felt my heart establish it when the limitation of my eyes failed to do so.
Bolo is on his second climb to Apo without me. The first one, just a couple of month’s ago, proved to be tough for him. He told me he missed me miserably then. In the three year’s we’ve been together as “sweethearts,” we’ve climbed Apo five times – together, never apart.
After we’ve been married, his work took him there twice. On both occasions, he always managed to just stay close to Agco, never scaling her. Even then, he told me the “missing part” was a bit to contend with. It was only very recently that he had to really scale her. And he told me it was tough having to bear the cold and the memories of our moments together there.
Well, if truth be told, they were not all great moments hehe since we did fight a lot then. Most of the time it’s about me making some unnecessary risks or my having to contend with the fact that there wasn’t really enough time for me to enjoy some “alone moments.”
Climbing mountains for me had always been something spiritual and personal. For each mountaineering trip, I always look forward to the time that I’ll be standing in some peak, soaking myself with all the energy the whole experience is affording me. It’s at these times that I connect with myself and my God in the most intense manner. It’s when I reassess how life had been and think about my priorities again and what they should be…
Having Bolo around somewhat changed that. Looking back, it wasn’t really his fault entirely. It’s just that we were both vegetarians then and were most of the time preoccupied with preparing our own meals in the mornings. With that, there was hardly any time left for some introspection. I only find the time to write and think at the end of the day, when we’ve had our last meal for the day and had all our pots cleaned and stowed away.
I miss being in the mountains but just feeling Baby’s warm palm touching my arm now made me realize I don’t really miss it that much. Days before Bolo left for this trip I’ve been teasing him about my having my own mountain trips as well. He did not warm up to the idea particularly on the thought of his not being there to “assist” me. He probably forgot I was into mountaineering long before I met him and that I’ve had some major climbs even before he became my self-appointed “protector.”
Anyway, while I insisted on it then, it’s really more for winning the “argument” than fighting for the desire to go climbing once again. Truthfully, I really don’t have the energy for it. I think I hardly have enough inclination for it to really want to push through with it. Bolo and I have been musing about going this coming Holy Week but the thought of dragging Baby all through that or having to leave him at home is quashing any desire I may have about it. Just thinking of his safety and the preparation that had to go with having Baby along on such a trip zaps whatever inclination I may have. Mountaineering is a lot of work really and having to mind a baby on top of that is like taking on a lot of trouble for no apparent reason.
Baby’s having a high fever right now. And I’m chipping away here to while the time away and to make sure I’m wide awake till it’s time for him to take his medicine again. I could not imagine having to expose Baby to the elements in the mountain just so I could have my cake and eat it too. For now, Baby and his needs is all that matters. I’ve had had my mountaineering time. I’m looking forward to taking it up again but I’m more than willing to wait for a couple more years for that. For now, Baby comes first.
Bolo is on his second climb to Apo without me. The first one, just a couple of month’s ago, proved to be tough for him. He told me he missed me miserably then. In the three year’s we’ve been together as “sweethearts,” we’ve climbed Apo five times – together, never apart.
After we’ve been married, his work took him there twice. On both occasions, he always managed to just stay close to Agco, never scaling her. Even then, he told me the “missing part” was a bit to contend with. It was only very recently that he had to really scale her. And he told me it was tough having to bear the cold and the memories of our moments together there.
Well, if truth be told, they were not all great moments hehe since we did fight a lot then. Most of the time it’s about me making some unnecessary risks or my having to contend with the fact that there wasn’t really enough time for me to enjoy some “alone moments.”
Climbing mountains for me had always been something spiritual and personal. For each mountaineering trip, I always look forward to the time that I’ll be standing in some peak, soaking myself with all the energy the whole experience is affording me. It’s at these times that I connect with myself and my God in the most intense manner. It’s when I reassess how life had been and think about my priorities again and what they should be…
Having Bolo around somewhat changed that. Looking back, it wasn’t really his fault entirely. It’s just that we were both vegetarians then and were most of the time preoccupied with preparing our own meals in the mornings. With that, there was hardly any time left for some introspection. I only find the time to write and think at the end of the day, when we’ve had our last meal for the day and had all our pots cleaned and stowed away.
I miss being in the mountains but just feeling Baby’s warm palm touching my arm now made me realize I don’t really miss it that much. Days before Bolo left for this trip I’ve been teasing him about my having my own mountain trips as well. He did not warm up to the idea particularly on the thought of his not being there to “assist” me. He probably forgot I was into mountaineering long before I met him and that I’ve had some major climbs even before he became my self-appointed “protector.”
Anyway, while I insisted on it then, it’s really more for winning the “argument” than fighting for the desire to go climbing once again. Truthfully, I really don’t have the energy for it. I think I hardly have enough inclination for it to really want to push through with it. Bolo and I have been musing about going this coming Holy Week but the thought of dragging Baby all through that or having to leave him at home is quashing any desire I may have about it. Just thinking of his safety and the preparation that had to go with having Baby along on such a trip zaps whatever inclination I may have. Mountaineering is a lot of work really and having to mind a baby on top of that is like taking on a lot of trouble for no apparent reason.
Baby’s having a high fever right now. And I’m chipping away here to while the time away and to make sure I’m wide awake till it’s time for him to take his medicine again. I could not imagine having to expose Baby to the elements in the mountain just so I could have my cake and eat it too. For now, Baby and his needs is all that matters. I’ve had had my mountaineering time. I’m looking forward to taking it up again but I’m more than willing to wait for a couple more years for that. For now, Baby comes first.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happy Heart's Day Everyone!
I was busy leafing through a pile of what appears to be rubbish but are actually my clothes in my closet to look for something to wear for today. For several days now I’ve been wearing skirts to the office. Not for any other reason other than I’m trying to save my slacks for the training our office will be holding next week. It’s a four-day course and I don’t want to spend the weekend before it, seeing to the laundry. I’d rather devote it in paying attention to the other details for the training.
I was mulling my choices when I heard Bolo’s voice from the other room. In very earnest tones he told me, “Nay, huwag ka talagang magpula ngayon. Huwag na huwag.” (Nay, don’t wear red today. Simply don’t). It wasn’t the words that threw me but the earnestness I heard in his voice. From the sound of it, he was dead serious about it which makes it the more funny. I’m not sure whether he’s referring to the fact that I’ll be joining a thousand others outside should I decide to wear red or he’s “warning” me about being mistaken as someone “still-in-search.”
Still in search, indeed! =) These days my heart is filled with gratitude every time Baby would seek me out and sit in my lap to render me yet again another of his nursery rhymes medley. In broken tones and broken-words hehe would serenade me starting with ABC, to eensy-weensy spider, to Babah, Black, sheep…And I would sit there feeling as if my heart is soaring and twinkling along with the stars he is singing about =)
These days it’s a common scene in the house to have Bolo or me turning to Baby and kissing or hugging him for the sheer joy he is giving us. In search huh? Nope, while sometimes it may not appear to be so? But I believe I have just found my home in my son. He’s the one who taught me the depth of the love I could ever feel and give… I love you Baby “Wod Lowen Abeiya Bolo” =)
Happy Heart’s Day Everyone! Take this day (and everyday hereafter) as an opportunity to sow, give, show your love to the persons that matter in your life. (And if I may add, to one’s country as well.)
I was mulling my choices when I heard Bolo’s voice from the other room. In very earnest tones he told me, “Nay, huwag ka talagang magpula ngayon. Huwag na huwag.” (Nay, don’t wear red today. Simply don’t). It wasn’t the words that threw me but the earnestness I heard in his voice. From the sound of it, he was dead serious about it which makes it the more funny. I’m not sure whether he’s referring to the fact that I’ll be joining a thousand others outside should I decide to wear red or he’s “warning” me about being mistaken as someone “still-in-search.”
Still in search, indeed! =) These days my heart is filled with gratitude every time Baby would seek me out and sit in my lap to render me yet again another of his nursery rhymes medley. In broken tones and broken-words hehe would serenade me starting with ABC, to eensy-weensy spider, to Babah, Black, sheep…And I would sit there feeling as if my heart is soaring and twinkling along with the stars he is singing about =)
These days it’s a common scene in the house to have Bolo or me turning to Baby and kissing or hugging him for the sheer joy he is giving us. In search huh? Nope, while sometimes it may not appear to be so? But I believe I have just found my home in my son. He’s the one who taught me the depth of the love I could ever feel and give… I love you Baby “Wod Lowen Abeiya Bolo” =)
Happy Heart’s Day Everyone! Take this day (and everyday hereafter) as an opportunity to sow, give, show your love to the persons that matter in your life. (And if I may add, to one’s country as well.)
Thursday, January 24, 2008
I was there
…when my friend would sneak out of the hotel room we were billeted for a training we were documenting to meet him downstairs. His excuse was that he could not sleep… he had to see her…
…when she would cut off a rendezvous with friends who are home for the holidays just because he had already arrived to whisk her away…
…on a number of occasions as she pointed out to me the “portrait” of them he made which he labeled, “soulmates.” I even reluctantly pose for another “portrait” since he told me he wanted to transform his front yard into her “playground” bearing some of the “portraits” of the persons she loved…
…to share her happiness as she relates how he would come by her house in the middle of the night just because he could not bear sleeping without her…
…as she struggled with the difficulty of being apart with him as well. Of having to sneak back to her parents’ house in the middle of the night and risking a good scolding in the morning. I was one of the few persons she texted when she finally made the decision to move out of her parents’ house just to move in with him.
…there when she finally gave birth to their daughter…
They were not some love-struck, do-not-know-any-better, naive teen-agers then. They were both twenty-seven years old. Probably not old enough to know everything about relationships but not too young either to not know what they were getting themselves into…
So it hurts me now to have some third person label the relationship as just some “f****ng frenzy.” I would very much like to believe it was much deeper than that…
I am not angry at the person who dismissed the relationship as just that. I just thought she does not know any better. But I am definitely angry… Because I know somewhere along the way a “story” have been told in such a manner that made her view the relationship as such I am most angry at the very person whom my friend have entrusted a big part of her life to.
Because you see, I was there too when he started to change… I was there when he treated her badly while she was still pregnant… I was there when she had to struggle to pick up the pieces again and start her life anew… I was there as she struggle to continue establishing some semblance of relationship with him just for the sake of their daughter… I may not have been really there for the most part but I was there and have seen enough and felt enough…
And she’s struggling even now… and it pains me to have other women dismiss other women’s experiences as some kind of folly… we are women…. And by that we should have known any better… not to make any judgment… not to make rash statements about someone else’s experiences… I know there was probably no malice when the thing was said… but words have energy you see… they have meanings that no amount of subtlety could ever change what they mean…
I felt the pain for my friend, even shed a tear for her. I felt myself shaken to the very core, and was even shaking physically because of it. I was that affected. I asked myself why did I have to be there to hear all of that? What for? Am I suppose to help her out in some way? Is she asking for clarity now, for some definition of sorts and I had to hear all of that just to gain another person’s perspective?
I am never one for meddling with other person’s affairs. I have enough troubles of my own. And besides, what wisdom could I possibly offer when I am just an outsider looking in and not the very one involved? That is why I am also very careful about giving in my opinion or volunteering my views on anything. Because I feel I am never in the position to do so… unless if it concerns my own affairs… my own concerns…
Ah friend, I feel for you. If I am this hurt, I could only imagine how it must have been for you… Ah… all is well… no matter how it may seem differently at times…..
…when she would cut off a rendezvous with friends who are home for the holidays just because he had already arrived to whisk her away…
…on a number of occasions as she pointed out to me the “portrait” of them he made which he labeled, “soulmates.” I even reluctantly pose for another “portrait” since he told me he wanted to transform his front yard into her “playground” bearing some of the “portraits” of the persons she loved…
…to share her happiness as she relates how he would come by her house in the middle of the night just because he could not bear sleeping without her…
…as she struggled with the difficulty of being apart with him as well. Of having to sneak back to her parents’ house in the middle of the night and risking a good scolding in the morning. I was one of the few persons she texted when she finally made the decision to move out of her parents’ house just to move in with him.
…there when she finally gave birth to their daughter…
They were not some love-struck, do-not-know-any-better, naive teen-agers then. They were both twenty-seven years old. Probably not old enough to know everything about relationships but not too young either to not know what they were getting themselves into…
So it hurts me now to have some third person label the relationship as just some “f****ng frenzy.” I would very much like to believe it was much deeper than that…
I am not angry at the person who dismissed the relationship as just that. I just thought she does not know any better. But I am definitely angry… Because I know somewhere along the way a “story” have been told in such a manner that made her view the relationship as such I am most angry at the very person whom my friend have entrusted a big part of her life to.
Because you see, I was there too when he started to change… I was there when he treated her badly while she was still pregnant… I was there when she had to struggle to pick up the pieces again and start her life anew… I was there as she struggle to continue establishing some semblance of relationship with him just for the sake of their daughter… I may not have been really there for the most part but I was there and have seen enough and felt enough…
And she’s struggling even now… and it pains me to have other women dismiss other women’s experiences as some kind of folly… we are women…. And by that we should have known any better… not to make any judgment… not to make rash statements about someone else’s experiences… I know there was probably no malice when the thing was said… but words have energy you see… they have meanings that no amount of subtlety could ever change what they mean…
I felt the pain for my friend, even shed a tear for her. I felt myself shaken to the very core, and was even shaking physically because of it. I was that affected. I asked myself why did I have to be there to hear all of that? What for? Am I suppose to help her out in some way? Is she asking for clarity now, for some definition of sorts and I had to hear all of that just to gain another person’s perspective?
I am never one for meddling with other person’s affairs. I have enough troubles of my own. And besides, what wisdom could I possibly offer when I am just an outsider looking in and not the very one involved? That is why I am also very careful about giving in my opinion or volunteering my views on anything. Because I feel I am never in the position to do so… unless if it concerns my own affairs… my own concerns…
Ah friend, I feel for you. If I am this hurt, I could only imagine how it must have been for you… Ah… all is well… no matter how it may seem differently at times…..
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
My First Charming
Bolo turned to me and said something like, "I draw my strength from you. I find my consolation in having you here. Thank you." Then he finished off his monologue with, "Truly, you're my... first charming?" And I'm like, "Huh?!" After much explaining, I finally got what he meant, "Lucky Charm." First charming indeed haha!
We just came from his father's house. We..err.. "deposited" our car for repairs. The incident from which he needed some strenght to draw from is our having to be stuck in the middle of the traffic when our car suddenly konked out on us. Luckily we were not that far from the sidewalk so he would not have to "push" that far but just a few strides. Needless to say, he did not find the whole experience funny. In fact, he was quite prepared to give the dealer of the car quite a mouthful the instant he sees him.
So I'm like schooling him on the virtue of choosing his words carefully and how giving in to one's temper could not in any way change the state of things. I explained to him how scorn would only beget scorn and how being rude would not help things any. I told him, if he'd be kind then he'd probably get a much better response than if he'd be rude...
This morning, he repeated the entire monologue again but this time getting the words right. We were discussing on what to do with the car. And I let him explain why he felt that way. I was not fishing for compliments. Just trying to understand what is going on in his head and he said, "I draw my strength from you because you remained calm inspite the mishap and the fact that you stuck with me and we're together..."
I guess, that really count much huh? Being there for each other. Being together in the face of whatever trying moments even if it is as simple as dealing with a broken car...
We just came from his father's house. We..err.. "deposited" our car for repairs. The incident from which he needed some strenght to draw from is our having to be stuck in the middle of the traffic when our car suddenly konked out on us. Luckily we were not that far from the sidewalk so he would not have to "push" that far but just a few strides. Needless to say, he did not find the whole experience funny. In fact, he was quite prepared to give the dealer of the car quite a mouthful the instant he sees him.
So I'm like schooling him on the virtue of choosing his words carefully and how giving in to one's temper could not in any way change the state of things. I explained to him how scorn would only beget scorn and how being rude would not help things any. I told him, if he'd be kind then he'd probably get a much better response than if he'd be rude...
This morning, he repeated the entire monologue again but this time getting the words right. We were discussing on what to do with the car. And I let him explain why he felt that way. I was not fishing for compliments. Just trying to understand what is going on in his head and he said, "I draw my strength from you because you remained calm inspite the mishap and the fact that you stuck with me and we're together..."
I guess, that really count much huh? Being there for each other. Being together in the face of whatever trying moments even if it is as simple as dealing with a broken car...
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Hands Are For...
Baby is truly a blessing in mine and Bolo's life. He perks up our days. He's our most immediate source (next to God) of happiness and energy in the morning. No matter how bad we feel, everytime Baby awakes and flash to us his beaming face, everything just lights up. Either that or it is his voice calling, "Nanay?!" or "Tatay?!" the moment he wakes up and we're in the other room.
There is something about babies, particularly one's own, and the little things that they do which would come to mean a lot. In an instant they could erase a day's worth of stress. The moment I enter our house and hear Baby's exurberant, "Nanay!" I would feel as if everything just melts away -- a bad episode in the office, a trying experience, a nagging irritant...
I'd say Baby is almost perfect (as every Mom would say of their little one) but for one thing -- spanking comes easily to him. I think he got it from his cousin Janine who's jealousy of him drives her to be such a bully sometimes. And I admit maybe from Bolo and I too.
For some time, I've really been thinking long and hard as to how to arrest such attitude of his. I've been trying to look for some creative ways as to how to impress upon him that spanking is really bad.
We've tried the "stand-in-the-corner" technique. I've had him stand in some corner everytime he would hit us. The first time was in fact very funny since we had him stand in one corner but then we realized it was quite dark there. So, we transfered him to another corner and then realized again there were some sharp objects nearby so we had to transfer him again. I think we managed to have him more confused than schooled on the wrongness of spanking. But really, it was such a funny experience. Bolo and I were trying to stiffle our laughter the whole time.
Anyway, even now, we still have him stand in the corner. Even if we are in a pizza parlor or some restaurant, we would very discreetly define one corner for him (which is usually the seat where he's at) and let him stand there everytime he gets into some spanking frenzy. And he would stand there, looking forlorn, crying and often reaching out his hand to us. But we would ignore him even though my heart was also breaking. Often times though I would give in, but not until I would ask him to say he's sorry. And he would, in a very soft voice and then he would come up to me for a big hug. That usually melts my heart in a big way. And so he is off the hook quite easily. Somehow, it does not help address the problem.
Until, Ms. Arlene taught me the most creative trick. We got into talking about sanksaras and that's when it hit me. It explained a lot of things to me like the question of whether "bad habits" and "bad attitudes" are hereditary or can be traced in the genes. For a while I had that question noticing how my brother before had some attitudes that are quite different from ours. For a while we entertained the thought that it could be something in his "blood." It was the only plausible explanation then since we would very much like to believe that we've provided him with the "right" enviroment. And then Janin came along also who is displaying attitude of her Mom who've left her when she was only two years old.
Anyway, to cut it short, Ms. Arlene taught me the most creative way of teaching Baby the "alternative" uses of the hands. She told me not to call attention to Baby's actions everytime he would hit us. She said that would only highlight the action more to him. Instead, I would point out to Baby what the hands are for, in a more positive sense like:
- hands are for hugging...
- hands are for patting the back...
- hands are for writing...
- hands are for drawing...
and so on and so forth...
It makes so much sense to me... And I'm trying to apply it now... it's hard though especially when Baby would turn to me and say in his cute, little voice,"Noooo..." hehe His voice is amazing... melts my heart right through... :)
There is something about babies, particularly one's own, and the little things that they do which would come to mean a lot. In an instant they could erase a day's worth of stress. The moment I enter our house and hear Baby's exurberant, "Nanay!" I would feel as if everything just melts away -- a bad episode in the office, a trying experience, a nagging irritant...
I'd say Baby is almost perfect (as every Mom would say of their little one) but for one thing -- spanking comes easily to him. I think he got it from his cousin Janine who's jealousy of him drives her to be such a bully sometimes. And I admit maybe from Bolo and I too.
For some time, I've really been thinking long and hard as to how to arrest such attitude of his. I've been trying to look for some creative ways as to how to impress upon him that spanking is really bad.
We've tried the "stand-in-the-corner" technique. I've had him stand in some corner everytime he would hit us. The first time was in fact very funny since we had him stand in one corner but then we realized it was quite dark there. So, we transfered him to another corner and then realized again there were some sharp objects nearby so we had to transfer him again. I think we managed to have him more confused than schooled on the wrongness of spanking. But really, it was such a funny experience. Bolo and I were trying to stiffle our laughter the whole time.
Anyway, even now, we still have him stand in the corner. Even if we are in a pizza parlor or some restaurant, we would very discreetly define one corner for him (which is usually the seat where he's at) and let him stand there everytime he gets into some spanking frenzy. And he would stand there, looking forlorn, crying and often reaching out his hand to us. But we would ignore him even though my heart was also breaking. Often times though I would give in, but not until I would ask him to say he's sorry. And he would, in a very soft voice and then he would come up to me for a big hug. That usually melts my heart in a big way. And so he is off the hook quite easily. Somehow, it does not help address the problem.
Until, Ms. Arlene taught me the most creative trick. We got into talking about sanksaras and that's when it hit me. It explained a lot of things to me like the question of whether "bad habits" and "bad attitudes" are hereditary or can be traced in the genes. For a while I had that question noticing how my brother before had some attitudes that are quite different from ours. For a while we entertained the thought that it could be something in his "blood." It was the only plausible explanation then since we would very much like to believe that we've provided him with the "right" enviroment. And then Janin came along also who is displaying attitude of her Mom who've left her when she was only two years old.
Anyway, to cut it short, Ms. Arlene taught me the most creative way of teaching Baby the "alternative" uses of the hands. She told me not to call attention to Baby's actions everytime he would hit us. She said that would only highlight the action more to him. Instead, I would point out to Baby what the hands are for, in a more positive sense like:
- hands are for hugging...
- hands are for patting the back...
- hands are for writing...
- hands are for drawing...
and so on and so forth...
It makes so much sense to me... And I'm trying to apply it now... it's hard though especially when Baby would turn to me and say in his cute, little voice,"Noooo..." hehe His voice is amazing... melts my heart right through... :)
Monday, January 14, 2008
Starting the Year Right: Changing Old Tapes
2007 was generally a good year. If by we good, we mean and acknowledge that everything that ever happens to us is intended to help us become the very best persons that we can be.
It has been a trying year. I had a miscarriage, I lost my brother, Bolo and I had some trying moments. Twice last year, I packed up my things and left out of sheer exasperation and hurt. The most recent one, on the 29th of December. So Bolo and I really literally almost ended the year with a big bang. All for having been victims to our old tapes. Unwittingly, I have allowed myself to be so caught up with minute details of my life this year. And it is not without its consequence. The consequence? I have become the most unloving person that I could ever become.
Looking back, last year I could not really claim to having been my best self. At the most I wallowed in my pain, in my loss, in my drama, in thinking some individuals have done me great injustice, etc. etc. On the one hand, I’m thinking if it wasn’t just post-partum blues speaking, after having the miscarriage and all. Yeah, excuses, excuses and that is hardly the point now.
But of course it was not all grief. If anything, if I would really think long and hard, there was actually more of the good stuff – I had more time with my son, we had opportunity for travels again (bontoc, baguio and sagada), there were plenty of blessings and opportunities, the friendship I share with my college buddies was strengthened... Reminding myself of all of these blessings brings about a sense of newness. And immediately, I am filled with a sense of gratitude rather than despair…
Now, more than ever, I am determined to being my best self once again – be more loving, less critical, more understanding, forgiving and “giving.” I want to be more grateful too, focusing more on the good things that I ought to be thankful for (which is actually a lot!) than on the things I bemoan. Well, I want to take it even further. I would very much want to forego bemoaning altogether. I just want to be grateful. Period.
And it seems to me the universe is responding to this particular intention of mine. Because, everyday, there are situations and persons who would talk to me about certain things that serve to help me along.
On our first day at the office after a very looong, Christmas break (this is another thing to be thankful about the job I keep now – we have Christmas breaks), we had our usual New Year ritual. We had a deck of “virtue cards” (A BK initiative) where we pick and choose a few cards and take them to be the things we need to work on in certain areas of our life. These areas being – (1) Family, (2) Self-development; (3) Work; (4) Relationships; and (5) Social Life. On top of this, we also pick a card to represent our “foundation” or that virtue which shall serve as our strength or core as we work on the different aspect of our lives. The cards I picked or which that chose me, are:
Self-Development: Respect. Because I respect myself, I also respect others, nature and all things.
Social life: Gentle. I tread lightly and lovingly upon this earth.
Family: Wise. I act after understanding the past, present and future of every situation.
Work: Fearless. Because my heart is clean and pure, I am fearless in all I do.
Relationship: I got "Respect" again which I think was very significant. But then again I opted to chose another card and I got, “pure-hearted.” My heart is full of pure love for all of God’s creation.
As for my foundation, I had, “content.” I feel full, calm, without desires or expectations.
I feel, as I mentioned before, that I did not choose the cards but instead it was them who sought and found me. Every thing fits. The instant I picked them I knew why it was the virtue that I picked for a particular aspect in my life.
Truly, there are a lot of things to be truly grateful for in one’s life. I am grateful for all the persons I come in contact with. Because, they are instrumental to my own becoming. I am grateful for such persons as Ms. Arlene who saw it as her role to facilitate this activity to us every year.
I think, it really takes a special kind of person to bother about making it their business to help others along, especially if it is in lined with helping them become their best self. And I’m sitting here, thinking, I would want to do that too.
I am not perfect but this time I would not want to think about that. Thinking about it only limits me as to the things I think I can do. I am a soul, ever in the process of becoming the best that I can be. And I know I need not worry because everything is not all about me. There is a higher self, a Higher Being who helps creates things in our lives, who aids us along as we work on our own imperfections.
There’s this saying that I always keep close to my heart that serves as a source of inspiration every time I find myself falling flat on my face. It gives me the strength to move on and continue working on the unfolding of my own truth. It says something like, “The spiritual path is always constant, never changing, even if the seeker may often loose his way.”
It has been a trying year. I had a miscarriage, I lost my brother, Bolo and I had some trying moments. Twice last year, I packed up my things and left out of sheer exasperation and hurt. The most recent one, on the 29th of December. So Bolo and I really literally almost ended the year with a big bang. All for having been victims to our old tapes. Unwittingly, I have allowed myself to be so caught up with minute details of my life this year. And it is not without its consequence. The consequence? I have become the most unloving person that I could ever become.
Looking back, last year I could not really claim to having been my best self. At the most I wallowed in my pain, in my loss, in my drama, in thinking some individuals have done me great injustice, etc. etc. On the one hand, I’m thinking if it wasn’t just post-partum blues speaking, after having the miscarriage and all. Yeah, excuses, excuses and that is hardly the point now.
But of course it was not all grief. If anything, if I would really think long and hard, there was actually more of the good stuff – I had more time with my son, we had opportunity for travels again (bontoc, baguio and sagada), there were plenty of blessings and opportunities, the friendship I share with my college buddies was strengthened... Reminding myself of all of these blessings brings about a sense of newness. And immediately, I am filled with a sense of gratitude rather than despair…
Now, more than ever, I am determined to being my best self once again – be more loving, less critical, more understanding, forgiving and “giving.” I want to be more grateful too, focusing more on the good things that I ought to be thankful for (which is actually a lot!) than on the things I bemoan. Well, I want to take it even further. I would very much want to forego bemoaning altogether. I just want to be grateful. Period.
And it seems to me the universe is responding to this particular intention of mine. Because, everyday, there are situations and persons who would talk to me about certain things that serve to help me along.
On our first day at the office after a very looong, Christmas break (this is another thing to be thankful about the job I keep now – we have Christmas breaks), we had our usual New Year ritual. We had a deck of “virtue cards” (A BK initiative) where we pick and choose a few cards and take them to be the things we need to work on in certain areas of our life. These areas being – (1) Family, (2) Self-development; (3) Work; (4) Relationships; and (5) Social Life. On top of this, we also pick a card to represent our “foundation” or that virtue which shall serve as our strength or core as we work on the different aspect of our lives. The cards I picked or which that chose me, are:
Self-Development: Respect. Because I respect myself, I also respect others, nature and all things.
Social life: Gentle. I tread lightly and lovingly upon this earth.
Family: Wise. I act after understanding the past, present and future of every situation.
Work: Fearless. Because my heart is clean and pure, I am fearless in all I do.
Relationship: I got "Respect" again which I think was very significant. But then again I opted to chose another card and I got, “pure-hearted.” My heart is full of pure love for all of God’s creation.
As for my foundation, I had, “content.” I feel full, calm, without desires or expectations.
I feel, as I mentioned before, that I did not choose the cards but instead it was them who sought and found me. Every thing fits. The instant I picked them I knew why it was the virtue that I picked for a particular aspect in my life.
Truly, there are a lot of things to be truly grateful for in one’s life. I am grateful for all the persons I come in contact with. Because, they are instrumental to my own becoming. I am grateful for such persons as Ms. Arlene who saw it as her role to facilitate this activity to us every year.
I think, it really takes a special kind of person to bother about making it their business to help others along, especially if it is in lined with helping them become their best self. And I’m sitting here, thinking, I would want to do that too.
I am not perfect but this time I would not want to think about that. Thinking about it only limits me as to the things I think I can do. I am a soul, ever in the process of becoming the best that I can be. And I know I need not worry because everything is not all about me. There is a higher self, a Higher Being who helps creates things in our lives, who aids us along as we work on our own imperfections.
There’s this saying that I always keep close to my heart that serves as a source of inspiration every time I find myself falling flat on my face. It gives me the strength to move on and continue working on the unfolding of my own truth. It says something like, “The spiritual path is always constant, never changing, even if the seeker may often loose his way.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)