digging blaise

There were times when literature is the only way - the only consolation to ten hours of being isolated on the 51st floor when the rest of the country is on a holiday. Most of all, in these times, the records of literature is all there is:

"And if one loves me for my judgement, memory, he does not love me, for I can lose these qualities without losing myself.

Where, then, is this love, if it be neither in the body nor in the soul?

And how love the body or the soul, except for these qualities which do not constitute me, since they are perishable?

For it is impossible and would be unjust to love the soul of a person in the abstract and whatever qualities might be therein.

We never, then, love a person, but only qualities.



Let us, then, jeer no more at those who are honoured on account of rank and office;

for we love a person only on account of borrowed qualities."

— Blaise Pascal (Pensées)

don't take away the biggest part of me

If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me

Oh, No please don't go

And if you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me

Oh, No please don't go

A love like ours is love that's hard to find

How could we let it slip away?

We've come too far to leave it all behind

How could we end it all this way?

When tomorrow comes and we'll both regret things we said today

A love like ours is love that's hard to find

How could we let it slip away?

We've come too far to leave it all behind

How could we end it all this way?

When tomorrow comes and we'll both regret things we said today

If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me

Please don't go

glory without the crown =(

Insecurity + Impulse + Action = Bad hair.

Even if I scream and whine at the most expensive salon's door, no stylist would give me a rebond. Not even digital curls. No more hair spa, not even a steam. It would be an unwise move for any hair professional to even open the doors for me, just as I insisted for a hair spa last Saturday. My purpose? To let the curls out, but the long years of rebonding has made my hair more sensitive and it reacted differerently to the steam's heat. The moment I mentioned the services I wanted , there was resistance on the hair spa part, but I insisted with a promise of a really fat tip when all is done. I went out of the salon feeling "cute".

Yet, my crowning glory was transitory. Came the moment of truth after 24 hours when water washed away the conditioner that held the shine, moist and curls. It was like my scalp underwent ten years of drought that moisture was totally lost and each strand has a different world than the others. This morning, I tried all rescue moves with a strong hold mousse and hair curler, but to no avail. I have come to terms that I am going to live more than 365 bad hair days.

I bowed and prayed resentfully for the many insecurities that I have had. Bad hair and bloated, feeling overweight, shoes one size larger than normal, clothes rather too fit or would never fit at all anymore, alone and so un-loved...and so jealous!!! I was not able to hold it that I acted upon impulse. I have considered myself at the ugliest state, when I am supposed to feel blessed and beautiful. I, then, made a bargain with the Lord that if I may not be at the best shape, for as long as my baby is, I will battle myself and I will look forward to post-natal depression with glee.

The impulse for a strong shot of espresso has long been healed. Shopping in times like these would only lead to mourning over the stilletos that I cannot wear, and maternity clothes are such big no-no's! They would just make me look like a molested child. What plays to ease my mind is the thought of Disneyland and the scent of summer in HongKong.

Sigh! Haven't I just mentioned about battling myself???

I'd settle for a great big hug. =)

home making

Few years after, I am back to the "normal people" shift. I could'nt even remember the last time I worked on real working hours. It must be during the time I was teaching preschool and that was a little over five years ago. I don't understand the kind of excitement that swept me over when I woke up this morning. Was it the thought of good breakfast? I usually have the impulse to read even just a few pages, but not this time. There are a lot of things that come and go inside my head, only one stays - coming home. 

Do I even know where home is? Aside from my little street not mapped in Google, I have just recently talked to the elders of my family. I felt that if I go back home where I grew up, it will no longer be the same. There's still room for visits, but not for habitation as most adults in families best not see each other on a daily basis. With another life growing in me, I have to take charge of my life now.  I cannot just go back home, instead, I have to make my kid a home.

When Hope and I were chatting online, she asked "What if Mom didn't leave us before, do you think we would be closer to her now?" Dad wasn't there too, but why can we tell him how we feel in a better way? Don't you think Mom is missing something, or are we missing something? We thought about putting ourselves into Mom's shoes.

Since time immemorial, she had been a career woman - something which discouraged our Dad instead of making him responsible. When Mom was taking too much space in the corporate world and his disinterest in his profession, he left all the money-making to Mom, thus, having her to leave us to the care of our grands and nannies. There were times we wished to be home from school with a mother waiting by the door to lead us to the table with delicious snacks. That never happened because when we were old enough, we were sent to boarding school in the care of the nuns. They were sisters, not mothers.

It dawned into me that after a two-month maternity leave from work, who am I going to leave my kid to? Of course, I would hire a nanny, then put on a webcam in every corner of my little apartment and have it broadcasted online so that I can keep watch even if I am at work. You just can't trust anyone with your kid at this point in time. (Am I being too mommy-like already?)

For sure, if such technological amenities were available, Mom could have done the same. Still, I would like to come home to her for a visit, and how I want to share with her the kind of loving home that I am working out for my forming family - that home is always where the heart is.

(Photo courtesy of Ali A. Alsaffar. Thank you for sharing the photo of the loves of your life for the world to see. You have an amazing eye for beauty.)

terima kasih, SKYPE!!!

Being a Training Officer for Customer Service mainly requires you to practice most of what you preach. One of the many first things that I say in my training sessions is that, "You can overdo a "PLEASE", but never a "THANK YOU".

Just as I was longing to hear his voice and see his face, the world has given me some priveleges. If this is an overdo, then what does it matter for someone who is overjoyed? I just wanna say:

THANK YOU, SKYPE!!!

beyond compare

B,

You started to be when I fell asleep on your daddy’s arms after a sweet and steamy Valentine date. When I woke up, I knew my life is going to change forever because I neglected to flush some residues before sleeping. When I saw your teeny-weeny little heart flapping with every beat, my own heart was crushed with happiness.

I just can’t believe that my life finally holds a life. I even doubted the first tests, and after spending too much on HPT’s, I gave it up. None of the results were less than two lines – enough to let me know that you are starting to take up your space in the world.

The first trip to the doctor was quite an adventure. I just pretended to have a flu, thinking I could get away from being tested, but these was no escape. She asked, “Who’s with you?” I told her, “I am alone, doctor.” She looked at me with unspoken questions in her eyes, so I snapped at her, “But I didn’t do it alone.” We both laughed at the reparte. Her next advise was a greater anxiety that I had to face. “End your suffering, let the daddy know.” Well, I eventually did...after two more weeks.



When daddy knew, I never knew he would be so happy. I thought I would get reprimanded, but he loves you just as much, although I know his knees turned to jelly and I can sense that he feels like being the next in line for circumcision for the second time. Anyway, I want you to know that, when you were made, we already had you in mind. You are both daddy and mommy’s dream come true. Right now, we are so glad that we are held responsible for the miracle of you.

I am just thankful of the blessings that I have now. When your daddy came into my life, I thought I won the lottery, but hey! With you now, its like winning the slot machine’s progressive jackpot!

Hang in there babe! I will see you soon, and we will journey through a beautiful life together.

Love,
Dad and Mom

what faith can give hope

My Dearest Hope,

Three things will last forever--faith, hope, and love--and the greatest of these is love.
- Corinthians 3:13

When you said, “…because you’re not here…” It was a shot through my heart. I may be far, my dear, but I am ALWAYS where you are.

When mom brought you home as an infant, I already knew from grandma that I will be having a sister. I never liked the thought of it. It only means one thing. - sharing of attention and affection. I had always been a jealous and self protective kid, since I don’t have our parents around. That time, dad was still I med school and mom is building up her career so I had to live with our grandparents, having their hovering in full. I had no choice but to take on the role since I cannot let you stay inside mom’s tummy forever.

Anyway, as a part of the bargain, I didn’t have to be big sister to an infant who cries a lot at night for long hours because it was more of an enticing thought to be finally living with mom and dad. It was your turn to be left behind with our grandparents. Honestly, I have never taken the big sister role seriously.

Not until our little brother came along. That was the time that I really felt so responsible, mainly because I had to make his lunch when mom and dad is away. That is also the time we started living together. We used to be rivals. As they say, you were the “pretty one” and I am the “smarter one”. How I coveted you title! Remember those times that I don’t want you to tag along when I go out of our apartment? I used to be the cutest little girl on that street until you came to live with us. I accepted my title as the “smart one” when you could not even memorize your age and dad is having a hard time telling you that you are not “two years old, but already four!” It was an entry question for your pre-school. At that time, I wanted to lend you my brain so you could get into Kindergarten. Haha!

You grew up just as smart. In your own way, you did even better in school. We started being friends because we can’t get rid of each other. From rivals, we became allies. We would hide our clothes in a spare closet just in case we run away from home because we can’t take it anymore when our parents play favorites with our oblivious little brother. We would wait outside for two angels to just take us away.

People often see me as the outspoken one. I am the one whom they expect to do the most hideous things. You, being meeker, are expected to live a straighter life, according to the standards of society. At 16, you ran away from home and wrote your goodbye letter to mom and dad, they said those were my words (Yes, because you made me translate it in English, but those were your own!). I got really blamed, but I never told them where you were hiding even if I was the one who brought your stow away clothes to your school. I knew that I if I didn’t help you out, you will do it anyway. I wanted you to be safe so I became an accessory.

We are so much different in many ways, I know. I say the things I do and do the things I say. I am more visible. You, on the other hand say yes, but will do the opposite, and that makes you more stubborn. By heart, we are so much alike. We love for as much as we could. The Pharisees and the Hypocrites conclude that I am the predecessor of all of your mistakes. Yes, I made quite a handful, but I never encouraged you to tread the lurid grounds. In fact, I wanted you to always be on the safe side.

…but you are a very good stubborn.

You are smart and you are going to make it through just fine. I can not and will not tell you what to do. As I have said, you have me by your side now and always. I may not be a good example of a sister but you know that I am protective of you. Sometimes, all you’ve got to do is tell me. I may not give you the resolution but we can spend some time to laugh it off over donut and soy milk and pray hard during the silences in between.

I love you, Pya.

Standing by,
Faith

shutter attempts

As what had been said, there is a time for everything.

Looking back at High School and college, it seems that I had a lot of time to do everything. I write, I paint, I go camping with friends, civic actions and a lot more. How could have I done all of those? Why can I not do it now? My world has definitely evolved.

Painting is a catharsis. I love colors and stroking my paintbrush with it on an empty canvass. Time constrained me to do some free verses and my canvass remains colorless until now. To cope with my passion for colors and the changing time, I can still capture beauty. I do beauty with much less time, this time.

My Choco-Butter:Now Famous.

Greenery.


Kampai!



The Pinks.



Tired of Being Sorry.



I Bloom Because I Must.



Desperately Finding Nemo.


Workaholic VS Exhaustion.

Thank you, photography. More to come!

can a lost horse lead me home?

The month of March started out really busy. I had a lot of time to think but not much time to write it all down. I had a chance to come upon my compilation of stories from my dear Paulo C. (Finally, I have a copy of his latest - "The Winner Stands Alone.") and nothing refreshes me more than the thoughts from the Warrior of the Light.

*****

It pays to share, so here goes:


THE LOST HORSE (a repost)

Many years ago in a poor Chinese village, there lived a peasant with his son. His only material possession, apart from some land and a small straw hut, was a horse he had inherited from his father.

One day, the horse ran off, leaving the man with no animal with which to till the land. His neighbors - who respected him greatly for his honesty and diligence - came to his house to say how much they regretted what had happened. He thanked them for their visit, but asked:

- How can you know that what has happened has been a misfortune in my life?

Someone mumbled to a friend: "he can't accept reality, let him think what he wants, as long as he isn't saddened by what happened."

And the neighbors went off, pretending to agree with what they had heard.

A week later, the horse returned to the stable, but it was not alone; it brought with it a fine mare for company. Upon hearing this, the villagers - who were flustered since they now understood the answer the man had given them - returned to the peasant's house, in order to congratulate him on his good fortune.

- Before you had only one horse, and now you have two. Congratulations! - they said.
- Many thanks for your visit and for all your concern - answered the peasant. - But how can you know that what has happened has been a blessing in my life?

Disconcerted, and thinking he must be going mad, the neighbors went off, and on the way commented: "does he really not understand that God has sent him a gift?"

A month later, the peasant's son decided to tame the mare. But the animal unexpectedly reared up and the boy fell and broke his leg. The neighbors returned to the peasant's house - bringing gifts for the wounded boy. The mayor of the village offered his condolences to the father, saying that all were very sad at what had happened.

The man thanked them for their visit and their concern, but asked:
- How can you know that what has happened has been a misfortune in my life?

They were all astonished to hear this, since no one could be in any doubt that the accident of a son was a real tragedy. As they left the peasant's house, some said to others: "he really has gone mad; his only son might limp forever, and he is still in doubt about whether what happened is a misfortune."

Some months passed, and Japan declared war on China. The Emperor's envoys traveled throughout the land in search for healthy young men to be sent to the battle front. Upon arrival in the village, they recruited all the young men except the peasant's son, whose leg was broken.

None of the young men returned alive. The son recovered, the two animals bred and their offspring were sold at a good price. The peasant began visiting his neighbors to console and help them, - since they had at all times been so caring. Whenever one of them complained, the peasant said: "how do you know it is a misfortune?" If anyone become overjoyed, he asked: "how do you know it is a blessing?" And the men in that village understood that beyond appearances, life has other meanings.

*****

How, indeed would I know? Tsk, tsk...FAITH.

at war with freedom

You say you'll change the constitution
Well, you know
We all want to change your head
You tell me it's the institution
Well, you know
You better free you mind instead
-Revolution, The Beatles, August 1968

Long before I was born, people already fight for “freedom”. Many in the history books since grade school, we are required to read how a particular war came to be and how freedom is gained through violence. Yes, many have I studied and in my life, I too, had little wars to battle.

My dad is a big fan of war themed motion pictures - from men fighting in their g-strings and bow and arrows, bayonets and rotating M-16s. He is a Judo-Karate third Dan Black belter and a collector of hand guns. He would bring us to an open field and teach us – his girls – to fire one of his weapons. When we call home nowadays and asks for him, mom would say he could not be disturbed because he is still in meditation doing the Kata war dance. Perhaps, because of this, our house has three kinds of locks on the main door and other security devices installed. He said those measures are necessary so as to be always ready for any war at bay. If there’s fire inside and dad isn’t home, we sure would be toasted!

Yesterday there was a shoot out just a few steps from my apartment. My cousin who was there at the time took photos and posted it on Facebook a few minutes after it happened. There was a pool of blood on the road and I imagine walking by it on my way home later that night. The slain bodies of two hold-up gangmen laid there until after 9pm. Those robbers struggled for their freedom, but in a subdivision inhabitated by retired and inactive military officers, they got themselves voluntarily to the slaughterhouse. Good thing their bodies were taken right before my coming home time.

All these violence, for “FREEDOM”. It just so costly.

But what is freedom? Is it ultimate? Is it subjective? What does it breed? Chaos or peace? Is it theoretical? How practicable is it? These may be dormant questions, but when you begin to think about saving for your children’s future, it could be just as bothersome.

in the name of the law – freedom is a right
“No person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law, nor shall any person be denied the equal protection of the laws.” –The Philippine Constitution, Art.III (Bill of Rights), Sec. 1

How ironic it is that there is a law to ensure freedom and this was fought for – by the legislators who were hopeful about the changing times. I am glad that as a Filipino, I am encompassed by such.

In other countries, they too have their own lawful scope and view of freedom. When I travel to other places, I have to make sure that my moves are within the range of my right as a visitor in their land. Therefore, my so-called freedom shrinks the farther I get away from Philippine jurisdiction.

in the name of nature – freedom is survival
“You are my butterfly and refuse to set you free.”
-Shannon Hale

For its species to thrive, the butterfly’s metamorphosis has to be completed for it to be able to spread its wings to survive. Its wings gives it the capacity to get away from its predator, in as much as it gives it the freedom to choose where to go. In the animal kingdom where we all live, we could not discount ourselves that we need freedom to be able to flourish.

Naturally, we are born to struggle and fight for that freedom. Along the way, we have to kill and flee from predators to secure ourselves.

in the name of love – freedom is slavery
“Man has the urge to seek a source of authority and control upon reaching a freedom that was thought to be an individual’s true desire.”
-Erich Fromm, Escape from Freedom

In his most debated work, Erich From cited that although we are free, there is an innate need in us to be enslaved by someone else, therefore we seek to belong. There is no more oppressing feeling than the feeling of isolation and loneliness.

Given this theory, could it justify why we stay in relationships even though sometimes it hurts?

I began to imagine myself without him. I can go through every boutique in the mall without anybody telling me, “There’s nothing we need there, Honey…” I can go to an all night karaoke with my girlfriends without feeling guilty. I can post sexy profile pictures on FB, FS, MS, Orkut and etc. I can sleep late and even gulp Maggi Savor when I want to.

With all these freedom debates and other mind boggling questions, all I want is to go home and watch a good movie, listen to some Norah Jones or talk about it over coffee with someone.

Again, I began to imagine myself without him: Free and having coffee alone. I can’t.

All these compromises to escape freedom. It is just priceless.