As I was getting ready for work this morning, I espied a peculiar sight. A series of bruises was beginning to develop on my right thigh - emerging newly like juvenile volcanic islands after a major tectonic incident.
Somehow I expected them to be there, but the actual sight itself was still an occasion for wonder, especially since my skin is as thick as a carabao's, and very rarely ever shows signs of maltreatment or mishandling. But lo and behold, it looks like I have succumbed to an acute case of:
Balikbayan bruising. A type of relatively minor haematoma of tissue caused by internal bleeding into the interstitial tissues, usually initiated by blunt trauma, which causes damage through physical compression and deceleration forces. Trauma sufficient to cause balikbayan bruising occurs from a wide variety of situations including: heavy lifting of overweight suitcases onto weighing scales (and exertion from repacking of excess cargo onto carry-on luggage) prior to baggage check at the airline counter, jostling to get ahead of the airline queue at time of boarding, muscle exertion in storing previously mentioned carry-on luggage (now weighing 90 lbs. or more) in the overhead bin (and subsequently retrieving it upon deplaning). Note that snatching cumbersome suitcases/balikbayan boxes from the baggage carousel does NOT count - for a tip of US$1 (or less, for regional flights), Manila airport personnel would be more than happy to suffer on your behalf.
More on the subject in subsequent ruminations. TTFN!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Another epiphany on footwear
While shoe shopping:
Flats are comfortable, but are hideously unattractive. Heels make me look good, but end up being insufferable after a short time.
There's an analogy in there somewhere.
Flats are comfortable, but are hideously unattractive. Heels make me look good, but end up being insufferable after a short time.
There's an analogy in there somewhere.
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Back to the Basics
Wow - has it been 2 years since last entry? I should stay in a little more. And write.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
What Happened
I got something hilarious this evening just as I was about to leave the Center. Today, I created the possibility of "being Pacquiao" - especially since I was to give a short motivational talk before more than a hundred agents of PruLife UK - of being heroic and a global champion, just like good old Manny. Tonight, I just started laughing out loud at how that had been realized, literally. Bloodied knees, torn garments, left hand out of commission - I look like I just came out of the boxing ring. Then again, Manny emerged from his latest bout unscathed, which is more than I can say for myself. But it was funny, nonetheless.
So here's what happened. I let my guard down a little during a meeting in front of Som's near Rockwell. And opened myself to a one-two of a brazen thief - he walked up, approached our table, and just grabbed what was on it: one, my wallet; two, my personal cell phone and the Center mobile assigned to one of the Course Supervisors I was meeting with. It was so surreal: he just walked up as if he knew us, and I even remember smiling at him, as if to ask him how we could help him - and off he went with his loot, and on his companion's motorcycle. With another motorcycle as back-up.
What happened next was a surprise, even to myself: I immediately gave chase. Footwear flying, running barefoot at top speed on the asphalt pavement, and falling flat on my face like an uncoordinated two-year old learning to walk. Twice. And yet, at one point, even on those bikes, I almost had 'em. Coach Tito (my running coach who I've stood up for many months) would have been proud.
In retrospect, it really wasn't worth the effort - all they took from me was a mobile phone that had seen better days and was very nearly due for replacement (plus it was a Globe phone that was remotely disabled upon my report, take that!), and a wallet that had about PhP3,000 plus $10 and Y100 plus of course credit and ATM cards (all duly cancelled by now) and my driver's license and IDs. In exchange, I sustained damages to my two favorite pieces of clothing - my blouse got ripped at the shoulder, my pants now have holes where the knees used to be. Plus my watch got broken, with the time stopping at the exact time I fell down: 6:54 p.m. My pedicure is ruined. And then there of course is the matter of physical injuries and the accompanying public humiliation (thank goodness I no longer really care about what anyone thinks). I can only fantasize about the charges I could file.
But oddly enough, once I had fully discharged my upset during the whole pursuit (screaming "Magnanakaw! Magnanakaw!" at the top of my lungs and getting the whole neighborhood into the streets had quite the cathartic effect), I then immediately went into handling the cancellation of all accounts that would potentially exacerbate the gravity of the impact - the mobile number and the phone (just in case the thief had the temerity to make some long distance calls on my account), credit card, ATM. Then I attended, with the kind assistance of the people in the Center, to the wounds of battle, and got in communication with the office, the people I had meetings with tomorrow, and my Mom.
Quite a big difference from one of the first times I was similarly "victimized" years ago - when someone broke into my car, stole my stereo and a whole lot of (my best) clothes. At the time I was fuming, murderous, and inconsolable for days. So too when someone keyed my car a few years later, and, even while at the time I already had Christ in my life, I so badly wanted the offender DEAD. Yet today, even though I came face-to-face with the criminal, I still cannot find it in my heart to hate him/them. Yes, I was pissed at the hassle and at why people have to resort to such criminality, but it no longer is personal.
It's not a personal affront against them - I started to think what kind of view of life has people like these thieves decide to take on this kind of life. Do they have children whose hunger is fed by the fruits of their fathers' crimes? Do I stand beside them at Sunday Mass, do they engage in acts of penitence come Holy Week to absolve themselves of their earthly transgressions? Do they get to sleep soundly at night? Do they experience joy in their lives? And would I, given how the world occurs for them and all their experiences, do the same had I seen the world the same way?
It's not a personal affront to me - I just happened to be there at the time, it could have been anyone. I'm not beating myself up for being stupid or less cautious or for whatever was taken from me.
On the drive home (illegal, I should acknowledge, as I had no license on me), I had Don Moen on the CD player. He sang, "forgive our sins, and heal our land...we long to be in Your presence once again." And then I really GOT that part of the Lord's Prayer that says, "forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us." I have no right to condemn, or to pass judgment on those who may have "erred" against me. Heaven knows how much I have erred against so many others - and, more importantly, against Him.
In the same manner, I have no right to condemn, or pass judgment against myself. As I forgave and prayed for those who took my stuff, I also forgave myself. And that had me be free, and carry on. Indeed, as one of my favorite Facebook applications aptly puts it: "The degree to which you do not accept life in all of the Divine forms is the degree to which you suffer."
One last thing that has me empowered: what happened, happened to me such that it doesn't have to happen to anyone else. I can see a parallel to that in the faith I have chosen, albeit I went through so much less.
To end with a practical note - keep your valuable belongings close and out of sight, especially in public places like Algier Street where Som's is. Interrupt temptation; be watchful but not suspicious. And don't let any incidents like these lessen your faith in what is possible for us as human beings, for indeed, for anyone who has ever "wronged" us is, essentially, who we are in all our humanity. To paraphrase the old saying, "There go I."
So here's what happened. I let my guard down a little during a meeting in front of Som's near Rockwell. And opened myself to a one-two of a brazen thief - he walked up, approached our table, and just grabbed what was on it: one, my wallet; two, my personal cell phone and the Center mobile assigned to one of the Course Supervisors I was meeting with. It was so surreal: he just walked up as if he knew us, and I even remember smiling at him, as if to ask him how we could help him - and off he went with his loot, and on his companion's motorcycle. With another motorcycle as back-up.
What happened next was a surprise, even to myself: I immediately gave chase. Footwear flying, running barefoot at top speed on the asphalt pavement, and falling flat on my face like an uncoordinated two-year old learning to walk. Twice. And yet, at one point, even on those bikes, I almost had 'em. Coach Tito (my running coach who I've stood up for many months) would have been proud.
In retrospect, it really wasn't worth the effort - all they took from me was a mobile phone that had seen better days and was very nearly due for replacement (plus it was a Globe phone that was remotely disabled upon my report, take that!), and a wallet that had about PhP3,000 plus $10 and Y100 plus of course credit and ATM cards (all duly cancelled by now) and my driver's license and IDs. In exchange, I sustained damages to my two favorite pieces of clothing - my blouse got ripped at the shoulder, my pants now have holes where the knees used to be. Plus my watch got broken, with the time stopping at the exact time I fell down: 6:54 p.m. My pedicure is ruined. And then there of course is the matter of physical injuries and the accompanying public humiliation (thank goodness I no longer really care about what anyone thinks). I can only fantasize about the charges I could file.
But oddly enough, once I had fully discharged my upset during the whole pursuit (screaming "Magnanakaw! Magnanakaw!" at the top of my lungs and getting the whole neighborhood into the streets had quite the cathartic effect), I then immediately went into handling the cancellation of all accounts that would potentially exacerbate the gravity of the impact - the mobile number and the phone (just in case the thief had the temerity to make some long distance calls on my account), credit card, ATM. Then I attended, with the kind assistance of the people in the Center, to the wounds of battle, and got in communication with the office, the people I had meetings with tomorrow, and my Mom.
Quite a big difference from one of the first times I was similarly "victimized" years ago - when someone broke into my car, stole my stereo and a whole lot of (my best) clothes. At the time I was fuming, murderous, and inconsolable for days. So too when someone keyed my car a few years later, and, even while at the time I already had Christ in my life, I so badly wanted the offender DEAD. Yet today, even though I came face-to-face with the criminal, I still cannot find it in my heart to hate him/them. Yes, I was pissed at the hassle and at why people have to resort to such criminality, but it no longer is personal.
It's not a personal affront against them - I started to think what kind of view of life has people like these thieves decide to take on this kind of life. Do they have children whose hunger is fed by the fruits of their fathers' crimes? Do I stand beside them at Sunday Mass, do they engage in acts of penitence come Holy Week to absolve themselves of their earthly transgressions? Do they get to sleep soundly at night? Do they experience joy in their lives? And would I, given how the world occurs for them and all their experiences, do the same had I seen the world the same way?
It's not a personal affront to me - I just happened to be there at the time, it could have been anyone. I'm not beating myself up for being stupid or less cautious or for whatever was taken from me.
On the drive home (illegal, I should acknowledge, as I had no license on me), I had Don Moen on the CD player. He sang, "forgive our sins, and heal our land...we long to be in Your presence once again." And then I really GOT that part of the Lord's Prayer that says, "forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us." I have no right to condemn, or to pass judgment on those who may have "erred" against me. Heaven knows how much I have erred against so many others - and, more importantly, against Him.
In the same manner, I have no right to condemn, or pass judgment against myself. As I forgave and prayed for those who took my stuff, I also forgave myself. And that had me be free, and carry on. Indeed, as one of my favorite Facebook applications aptly puts it: "The degree to which you do not accept life in all of the Divine forms is the degree to which you suffer."
One last thing that has me empowered: what happened, happened to me such that it doesn't have to happen to anyone else. I can see a parallel to that in the faith I have chosen, albeit I went through so much less.
To end with a practical note - keep your valuable belongings close and out of sight, especially in public places like Algier Street where Som's is. Interrupt temptation; be watchful but not suspicious. And don't let any incidents like these lessen your faith in what is possible for us as human beings, for indeed, for anyone who has ever "wronged" us is, essentially, who we are in all our humanity. To paraphrase the old saying, "There go I."
Friday, December 19, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Starting All Over Again
No such thing as coincidence: I'm listening to "Starting All Over Again" (the original by Mel and Tim). I don't really subscribe to the drama and "effort" promoted by the lyrics, but the "starting over" part seems to be the theme of my last few days - starting over anew, on a fresh page, unencumbered by the past, that is. This last week has been filled with rediscovery of the wonder of the familiar, beholding Him making all things new (Revelations 21:1-5).
It all began when I took on something I thought I'd never be taking on again - accepting an accountability, in Landmark Education, I used to believe I'd "outgrown" (been there, done that, etc.) That opened up a space for me to take on other things in my life that I'd either given up on, set aside, or had been postponing for "someday, not now."
After 20 years, I'll be singing again onstage for the 25th year celebration of a college production that's grown to epic proportions since our days at the University of the Philippines. I'd relegated myself as a mere spectator and cheerleader after graduation, and I always thought I'd be satisfied back "in the stands." But I found myself stepping up once again, with that good old college performance experience mno longer just filed away in memory but made real. At least this time around, I can stay up at rehearsals without incurring the wrath of the parental units. Heh heh.
Also, after almost a decade of keeping to the sidelines, I've found myself back in the arms of my first love as a lawyer: litigation. Now that I've taken that on again fully, I get what I loved so much about it in the first place: the challenge of preparation and research, the gambit and strategic foresight, the intellectual stimulation and thinking on one's feet. It's what I'm best at, and I now can't even remember why I ever gave it up in the first place!
I'm also back in a personal "game" that I'll share about later - suffice it to say that I'd been in the "gallery" with respect to that area of my life for a good year or so. I didn't want to risk or confront anything that could lead to slightest hint of failure...but that's in the foreground again, and I'm playing full-out, on the court, from here on. Ha, as they say, intentions count for nothing; actions determine the outcome! I've also found that saying "yes" and giving my commitment, without having to think too long and hard about it ("Just do it!"), has opened up so much, so quickly - once I've given my word to something, the question of how I'm going to fulfill on it and make everything else work out becomes - for lack of a better term - incidental, and the challenge is transformed from "daunting" to "exciting."
In other areas, I've also rediscovered my love for cooking as an expression of my love for the people in my life, reestablished my connection with 70's soul music, reconnected with those most important to me, and rekindled old flames that I thought had gone out. Wink, wink.
I've found - and am continuing to find - adventure and newness in the familiar, and I'm loving it. I may be exploring "old" waters, but this time, with a beginner's mind - through which anything is possible. For indeed, I CAN do ALL things through Him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13) :-)
It all began when I took on something I thought I'd never be taking on again - accepting an accountability, in Landmark Education, I used to believe I'd "outgrown" (been there, done that, etc.) That opened up a space for me to take on other things in my life that I'd either given up on, set aside, or had been postponing for "someday, not now."
After 20 years, I'll be singing again onstage for the 25th year celebration of a college production that's grown to epic proportions since our days at the University of the Philippines. I'd relegated myself as a mere spectator and cheerleader after graduation, and I always thought I'd be satisfied back "in the stands." But I found myself stepping up once again, with that good old college performance experience mno longer just filed away in memory but made real. At least this time around, I can stay up at rehearsals without incurring the wrath of the parental units. Heh heh.
Also, after almost a decade of keeping to the sidelines, I've found myself back in the arms of my first love as a lawyer: litigation. Now that I've taken that on again fully, I get what I loved so much about it in the first place: the challenge of preparation and research, the gambit and strategic foresight, the intellectual stimulation and thinking on one's feet. It's what I'm best at, and I now can't even remember why I ever gave it up in the first place!
I'm also back in a personal "game" that I'll share about later - suffice it to say that I'd been in the "gallery" with respect to that area of my life for a good year or so. I didn't want to risk or confront anything that could lead to slightest hint of failure...but that's in the foreground again, and I'm playing full-out, on the court, from here on. Ha, as they say, intentions count for nothing; actions determine the outcome! I've also found that saying "yes" and giving my commitment, without having to think too long and hard about it ("Just do it!"), has opened up so much, so quickly - once I've given my word to something, the question of how I'm going to fulfill on it and make everything else work out becomes - for lack of a better term - incidental, and the challenge is transformed from "daunting" to "exciting."
In other areas, I've also rediscovered my love for cooking as an expression of my love for the people in my life, reestablished my connection with 70's soul music, reconnected with those most important to me, and rekindled old flames that I thought had gone out. Wink, wink.
I've found - and am continuing to find - adventure and newness in the familiar, and I'm loving it. I may be exploring "old" waters, but this time, with a beginner's mind - through which anything is possible. For indeed, I CAN do ALL things through Him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13) :-)
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The Great Barack Hope
I caught the TV coverage of the Democratic National Convention today, and for some strange reason, I found myself in tears. During Bill Clinton's speech, no less. Weird.
So I took a look at why I was uncharacteristically moved, and I now know.
Clinton's magnanimous endorsement of the man, who, just a short while ago, had been fighting tooth-and-nail with the former First Lady for the Democratic nomination for the US Presidential race, was something new and outrageous - for me and my view of the political process, anyway.
I was moved by possibility - this outpouring of love and support for a former rival in a nomination bitterly sought - a possibility I have not ever experienced in the political processes of my own country.
It just goes to show how resigned and cynical I'd become by the political goings-on in the Philippines. My experience of it is that there is no loyalty to party or principle, only to individual interest; and if this had ever happened in the Philippines, Hillary would go on to form her new party and insist on running for President herself, hell or highwater notwithstanding. Which probably explains the proliferation of all of these Philippine political parties - the inevitable result of the phenomenon of a sore loser. Matalo, pikon.
But what if we just stood behind each other to have all of us WIN, instead of jockeying for first place? Now that's a possibility for Philippine politics.
And may I just say that I LIKE Barack Obama. One, for the words that come out of his mouth: words of possibility, not predictability. I think America needs that kind of buoyant spirit...heck, I think many nations, particularly my own, would benefit from that breath of fresh air. Secondly, I remain amazed at the possibility of "altering the conversation" - a conversation that once said that the earth is flat, that women could not vote, that a person of color could never, ever be President of the United States.
I trust that Obama will put his money where his mouth is; and if he does, he would be the shining standard for politicians around the world. The audacity of hope, indeed.
So I took a look at why I was uncharacteristically moved, and I now know.
Clinton's magnanimous endorsement of the man, who, just a short while ago, had been fighting tooth-and-nail with the former First Lady for the Democratic nomination for the US Presidential race, was something new and outrageous - for me and my view of the political process, anyway.
I was moved by possibility - this outpouring of love and support for a former rival in a nomination bitterly sought - a possibility I have not ever experienced in the political processes of my own country.
It just goes to show how resigned and cynical I'd become by the political goings-on in the Philippines. My experience of it is that there is no loyalty to party or principle, only to individual interest; and if this had ever happened in the Philippines, Hillary would go on to form her new party and insist on running for President herself, hell or highwater notwithstanding. Which probably explains the proliferation of all of these Philippine political parties - the inevitable result of the phenomenon of a sore loser. Matalo, pikon.
But what if we just stood behind each other to have all of us WIN, instead of jockeying for first place? Now that's a possibility for Philippine politics.
And may I just say that I LIKE Barack Obama. One, for the words that come out of his mouth: words of possibility, not predictability. I think America needs that kind of buoyant spirit...heck, I think many nations, particularly my own, would benefit from that breath of fresh air. Secondly, I remain amazed at the possibility of "altering the conversation" - a conversation that once said that the earth is flat, that women could not vote, that a person of color could never, ever be President of the United States.
I trust that Obama will put his money where his mouth is; and if he does, he would be the shining standard for politicians around the world. The audacity of hope, indeed.
Blessings and Possibilities
I'm writing from the lanai of my sister's new apartment, 26 stories up on Nuuanu Avenue, with the Honolulu harbor in full view. Aloha from Hawaii: I have arrived.
It's been almost six months since my last US trip, pretty much par for the course since I created this lifestyle possibility a couple of years ago - and to think that I'd been putting this off for a number of "convenient" reasons. Now, and especially since I completed reviewing the Landmark Forum last week, I really continue to get that anything is possible, by integrity in one's word and through the grace of God. I've had the opportunity to travel halfway around the world every six months since that particular possibility was created, aside from the shorter Asian and local trips in between. Yet part of the anxiety that overshadowed the excitement of flying off again came mostly from the past - uncomfortable flights, unfounded customs and immigration concerns (would they take my sister's tuyo and taba ng talangka away?), a ridiculous niggling fear that something - any little thing - would go wrong.
None of that happened - talk about the constraints the past imposes on our view of life! I was blessed with impeccable timing (the rains from tropical depression Lawin, which caused monumental traffic jams on the roads, hit Manila only a few minutes after I'd been dropped off at the airport); no heavy lifting of luggage (yay for friendly NAIA porters!); an empty seat beside me on the plane that had me sleep better and gave me easy access to the bathroom; the fastest and friendliest US baggage claim/immigration/customs procedure ever that had me in and out of Honolulu International in 15 minutes (!!). Plus all my other concerns I left behind are complete - the Advanced Course is in the best of hands, last minute law office work handled, personal and professional communications re pending matters communicated and addressed.
Which gave me enough space to indulge in a rare luxury I haven't experienced since leaving Chicago in March - an American cable TV marathon! Sigh. Praise God for His goodness and the miracle of breathers.
Will be getting off the couch and exploring the rest of Oahu tomorrow - and then there's Maui on the weekend! And then mainland US after that. Mahalo Lord, You make all this possible indeed. :-)
It's been almost six months since my last US trip, pretty much par for the course since I created this lifestyle possibility a couple of years ago - and to think that I'd been putting this off for a number of "convenient" reasons. Now, and especially since I completed reviewing the Landmark Forum last week, I really continue to get that anything is possible, by integrity in one's word and through the grace of God. I've had the opportunity to travel halfway around the world every six months since that particular possibility was created, aside from the shorter Asian and local trips in between. Yet part of the anxiety that overshadowed the excitement of flying off again came mostly from the past - uncomfortable flights, unfounded customs and immigration concerns (would they take my sister's tuyo and taba ng talangka away?), a ridiculous niggling fear that something - any little thing - would go wrong.
None of that happened - talk about the constraints the past imposes on our view of life! I was blessed with impeccable timing (the rains from tropical depression Lawin, which caused monumental traffic jams on the roads, hit Manila only a few minutes after I'd been dropped off at the airport); no heavy lifting of luggage (yay for friendly NAIA porters!); an empty seat beside me on the plane that had me sleep better and gave me easy access to the bathroom; the fastest and friendliest US baggage claim/immigration/customs procedure ever that had me in and out of Honolulu International in 15 minutes (!!). Plus all my other concerns I left behind are complete - the Advanced Course is in the best of hands, last minute law office work handled, personal and professional communications re pending matters communicated and addressed.
Which gave me enough space to indulge in a rare luxury I haven't experienced since leaving Chicago in March - an American cable TV marathon! Sigh. Praise God for His goodness and the miracle of breathers.
Will be getting off the couch and exploring the rest of Oahu tomorrow - and then there's Maui on the weekend! And then mainland US after that. Mahalo Lord, You make all this possible indeed. :-)
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Diversionary Tactics
I've been remiss in keeping my posts updated - it's been almost a month since I wrote anything...but I have a good, er, excuse. A couple of good ones, in fact.
First, I rediscovered fiction! And in a big way. I think law school and the legal profession snuffed out my passion for reading all things wild and wonderful, where for a few glorious hours I got to suspend disbelief (wait a minute, what am I talking about - some of the cases we had to read, heck, some of those I actually defended, bordered on the improbable). Anyway, somewhere along the line I stored all my fiction titles away - the murder mysteries, the trashy techno-thrillers, the heart-wrenching tales of life and love - and replaced them all with travel accounts, biographies, useful legal analyses of the system, metapyhsical treatises, inspirational books of faith and the Church, and (eek) business volumes.
How much fun was that?
And then, something happened. My Dad recently came home from the US with a couple of James Rollins books, which I ignored for a while. But curiousity got the better of me, and so I started to read, and read, and read... until I found that I couldn't stop. For the better part of a week I began to desperately binge on reading fiction like my life depended on it - I couldn't get enough. Rollins, Steve Alten, Javier Sierra, Raymond Khoury, Sam Bourne, Thomas Gifford, John Case, Dan Brown...and a little Mitch Albom for dessert (I went through one his books in a little more than an hour, while waiting to meet up with a friend). At the end of it all, I managed to read no less than 15 books in 7 days - pretty much a personal record of sorts. One of the best parts of it was that I got to read most everything for free, thanks to those online e-book exchange forums.
I'm still going through at most one book a day, but I think the "worst" is over. I've apparently satisfied an unconscious urge I'd been suppressing for a decade or so, and it looks like it's levelled off - for the meantime, at least (I'm presently downloading a few more titles discriminately picked out from a huge 2,000++ collection).
Ah, reading. The best diversion, ever (especially since I've not had any television for the last several months). Pass me that David Morrell, if you please.
Oh, and before I forget - I have a second excuse: I just celebrated another birthday among friends and family, so I was in the thick of preparations for that over the last few days (the annual party - the count was at least 70 people who came this year, a relatively small-ish crowd as a bunch of people didn't make it last Saturday - is my little way of thanking everyone for who they are in my life). While that was an awesome experience, I didn't get a single book as a birthday present. Oh well :-)
First, I rediscovered fiction! And in a big way. I think law school and the legal profession snuffed out my passion for reading all things wild and wonderful, where for a few glorious hours I got to suspend disbelief (wait a minute, what am I talking about - some of the cases we had to read, heck, some of those I actually defended, bordered on the improbable). Anyway, somewhere along the line I stored all my fiction titles away - the murder mysteries, the trashy techno-thrillers, the heart-wrenching tales of life and love - and replaced them all with travel accounts, biographies, useful legal analyses of the system, metapyhsical treatises, inspirational books of faith and the Church, and (eek) business volumes.
How much fun was that?
And then, something happened. My Dad recently came home from the US with a couple of James Rollins books, which I ignored for a while. But curiousity got the better of me, and so I started to read, and read, and read... until I found that I couldn't stop. For the better part of a week I began to desperately binge on reading fiction like my life depended on it - I couldn't get enough. Rollins, Steve Alten, Javier Sierra, Raymond Khoury, Sam Bourne, Thomas Gifford, John Case, Dan Brown...and a little Mitch Albom for dessert (I went through one his books in a little more than an hour, while waiting to meet up with a friend). At the end of it all, I managed to read no less than 15 books in 7 days - pretty much a personal record of sorts. One of the best parts of it was that I got to read most everything for free, thanks to those online e-book exchange forums.
I'm still going through at most one book a day, but I think the "worst" is over. I've apparently satisfied an unconscious urge I'd been suppressing for a decade or so, and it looks like it's levelled off - for the meantime, at least (I'm presently downloading a few more titles discriminately picked out from a huge 2,000++ collection).
Ah, reading. The best diversion, ever (especially since I've not had any television for the last several months). Pass me that David Morrell, if you please.
Oh, and before I forget - I have a second excuse: I just celebrated another birthday among friends and family, so I was in the thick of preparations for that over the last few days (the annual party - the count was at least 70 people who came this year, a relatively small-ish crowd as a bunch of people didn't make it last Saturday - is my little way of thanking everyone for who they are in my life). While that was an awesome experience, I didn't get a single book as a birthday present. Oh well :-)
Sunday, July 13, 2008
The Voice of Truth
"I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13
I heard this on the radio today: it reminded me of who - and Whose - I am.
The Voice of Truth (Casting Crowns)
Oh, what I would do to have
The kind of faith it takes
To climb out of this boat I'm in
Onto the crashing waves
To step out of my comfort zone
Into the realm of the unknown
Where Jesus is,
And He's holding out His hand
But the waves are calling out my name
And they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times
I've tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
Time and time again
"Boy, you'll never win, you'll never win."
But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says "Do not be afraid!"
And the voice of truth says "This is for My glory,"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth
Oh, what I would do
To have the kind of strength it takes
To stand before a giant
With just a sling and a stone
Surrounded by the sound
Of a thousand warriors
Shaking in their armor
Wishing they'd have had the strength to stand
But the giant's calling out my name
And he laughs at me
Reminding me of all the times
I've tried before and failed
The giant keeps on telling me
Time and time again
"Boy you'll never win, you'll never win."
But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says "Do not be afraid!"
And the voice of truth says "This is for My glory,"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth
But the stone was just the right size
To put the giant on the ground
And the waves they don't seem so high
From on top of them looking down
I will soar with the wings of eagles
When I stop and listen to the sound of Jesus
Singing over me
But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says "Do not be afraid!"
And the voice of truth says "This is for My glory,"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth
I will listen and believe
I will listen and believe the voice of truth
I will listen and believe
'Cause Jesus you are the voice of truth
And I will listen to you.. oh you are
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Failure To Lunch
I'm finally consolidating and updating my backlog of gastronomically related posts on a new site, Failure To Lunch. I've found that one of the best ways to diet is, oddly enough, to be constantly around food - preparing it, smelling it, cooking it, plating it, writing about it - at the end of it all, I'm vicariously sated without having to take more than a single bite. Enjoy!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Obstacles on the Road to Possibility
"Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goal." - Henry Ford
The building where my office is doesn't have elevator muzak, it has elevator musings. I appreciate the efforts of the building administrator or whoever thought up this idea - instead of staring impatiently at the lift's floor indicator, we get to reflect on whatever words of wisdom happen to be posted on the panel. Or at least I get to.
Today's message made me smile; old dorky me and my "machinery" just got through of a couple of restless days of self-negation. The conversations in my head, while distinguished as mere conversations, were unforgiving: "You can't pull that off!"; "You failed at this-and-that in the past, what makes you think you can do this now?"; "Too many people are counting on you - do you really want to be responsible?" etc., ad nauseam! What I got is that all the internal dialogues were putting in place imaginary limitations and obstacles based in the past; and with all that past in my future, there was absolutely no room for possibility. I'd taken my eyes off the "prize" - what I'm committed to - and instead had focused a little too much on what was in the way of fulfilling on that.
As always, it took a conversation with another human being to sort that out - and it wasn't even a conversation about myself and what I'm dealing with. My law partner Kenneth and I had a profound discussion about God, His Church, and religion, and while I was doing most of the "distinguishing," I got something myself out of what I said.
One of Ken's questions was how to tell whether it's God who's "talking," or if it's just him having conversations in his own head. I don't where I read or heard this, but I've subscribed to the view that words that do not comfort are not from God. Now this has nothing to do with desolation or consolation in the Ignatian sense, or with conscience as Christianity knows it. What I'm talking about are the internal dialogues that disempower; that negate, diminish, or have us be less of the creations we are in His eyes. Those very conversations that I just had over the last two days: conversations of im-possibility, of incapacity, of smallness. Of shirking from one's own God-given greatness and of turning away from possibility. Of not trusting in His infinite power and in the miraculous.
Yeah, I got that. And I'm "off it" :-). To infinity and beyond...bring on the miracles, I'm ready for 'em!
Monday, June 09, 2008
Complete
Yesterday, Sunday, was the final full day of the most recent Landmark Forum in Manila. Participants got THE conversation of the LF, the big kabaaaaammm! that ties it all together.
I had a little breakdown in my schedule early in the morning, so I missed Father Gregg Banaga's Mass for the participants and the assistants. I always love when either Father Gregg (President of Adamson University, and a former Introduction Leader of the LF) or Father Elis of the Salesian order celebrate Sunday Mass; they bring the distinctions of transformation so beautifully into the conversation of Christianity and the Church.
But anyway. As I'd missed the morning Mass, I went to the noon Mass at Sta. Maria della Strada instead, with the intention to have a revelation in my faith. And I did.
It wasn't earth-shaking or mind-blowing; rather, it came, as God often speaks, in a quiet whisper during consecration.
The Lord sees us with the eyes of a Creator who gave up His only Son so that our sins may be forgiven. He looks upon us not with revulsion or derision for our imperfections, but as the redeemed: unblemished, pristine, and as perfect as He created us in the beginning. For while we initially fell from grace, we, in His great plan, have all been cleansed by the blood of the Lamb.
Strangely enough, we are frequently less forgiving of ourselves than the Great Forgiver Himself. We oftentimes beat ourselves up, emotionally and spiritually, without regard to how He took the fall for our transgressions, and how He suffered and died so that we wouldn't have to. We get stuck in a world of making ourselves (and others) wrong, worrying about how our lives are going, figuring out where we've lost our way, without regard for what His passion and cross were all about.
And here is what I got: He, once and for all, on that dark afternoon on Calvary, healed our brokenness. He got us back to where we were as He intended us: whole, perfect, and complete. And for what? So we could be HIM in the world, to continue what He began - to have OTHERS recognize who they are in His eyes. Whole, perfect, and complete.
Yet when we "indulge" in our brokenness, when we dwell too long in "what's wrong with me?" or "why are things not going the way they should?," or "what does He really want me to do?" we are useless to Him and His plan. Our brokenness, blessed as it may be, keeps us from being there for OTHERS - from being there for and being Him to the flock He has entrusted us to tend. Our world becomes all about us as our individual selves, and not about Him - He who is in our neighbors and in the world as He is in us. Ironically, it is, the giving of ourselves to others - the outpouring of who and what He has blessed us with - that has us have the experience of being COMPLETE.
I am reminded of my earthly hero, Mother Teresa, and her dark night of the soul, which lasted for decades. Despite her inner turmoil, she gave of herself to the world, without shutting herself out or retreating from what she was called to do. And the Lord's work was done through her, and continues to be done, many years after her death. She touched, healed, and comforted countless lives without succumbing to the temptation to withdraw, fix, or figure it out before moving along.
We are, indeed, jars of clay that contain a great Treasure. While we are easily broken, through every crack and shard the magnificence that is within shines through. Our job is not to patch up the pieces and keep the container intact. Our mission is to break ourselves open, completely, so that the glorious Presence within finally, and perfectly, is released to illuminate all the world with His Light.
Amen.
I had a little breakdown in my schedule early in the morning, so I missed Father Gregg Banaga's Mass for the participants and the assistants. I always love when either Father Gregg (President of Adamson University, and a former Introduction Leader of the LF) or Father Elis of the Salesian order celebrate Sunday Mass; they bring the distinctions of transformation so beautifully into the conversation of Christianity and the Church.
But anyway. As I'd missed the morning Mass, I went to the noon Mass at Sta. Maria della Strada instead, with the intention to have a revelation in my faith. And I did.
It wasn't earth-shaking or mind-blowing; rather, it came, as God often speaks, in a quiet whisper during consecration.
The Lord sees us with the eyes of a Creator who gave up His only Son so that our sins may be forgiven. He looks upon us not with revulsion or derision for our imperfections, but as the redeemed: unblemished, pristine, and as perfect as He created us in the beginning. For while we initially fell from grace, we, in His great plan, have all been cleansed by the blood of the Lamb.
Strangely enough, we are frequently less forgiving of ourselves than the Great Forgiver Himself. We oftentimes beat ourselves up, emotionally and spiritually, without regard to how He took the fall for our transgressions, and how He suffered and died so that we wouldn't have to. We get stuck in a world of making ourselves (and others) wrong, worrying about how our lives are going, figuring out where we've lost our way, without regard for what His passion and cross were all about.
And here is what I got: He, once and for all, on that dark afternoon on Calvary, healed our brokenness. He got us back to where we were as He intended us: whole, perfect, and complete. And for what? So we could be HIM in the world, to continue what He began - to have OTHERS recognize who they are in His eyes. Whole, perfect, and complete.
Yet when we "indulge" in our brokenness, when we dwell too long in "what's wrong with me?" or "why are things not going the way they should?," or "what does He really want me to do?" we are useless to Him and His plan. Our brokenness, blessed as it may be, keeps us from being there for OTHERS - from being there for and being Him to the flock He has entrusted us to tend. Our world becomes all about us as our individual selves, and not about Him - He who is in our neighbors and in the world as He is in us. Ironically, it is, the giving of ourselves to others - the outpouring of who and what He has blessed us with - that has us have the experience of being COMPLETE.
I am reminded of my earthly hero, Mother Teresa, and her dark night of the soul, which lasted for decades. Despite her inner turmoil, she gave of herself to the world, without shutting herself out or retreating from what she was called to do. And the Lord's work was done through her, and continues to be done, many years after her death. She touched, healed, and comforted countless lives without succumbing to the temptation to withdraw, fix, or figure it out before moving along.
We are, indeed, jars of clay that contain a great Treasure. While we are easily broken, through every crack and shard the magnificence that is within shines through. Our job is not to patch up the pieces and keep the container intact. Our mission is to break ourselves open, completely, so that the glorious Presence within finally, and perfectly, is released to illuminate all the world with His Light.
Amen.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Walk, BC, Walk!
Good old BC has a plan, and I'm loving it already. I've always held that the streets of Baguio City were made for walking :-)
Read the rest of the article here.
BAGUIO CITY – An energy-saving campaign designed to eventually rid this mountain resort city of cars and other motor vehicles for six days a week began Monday with a walk.
About 200 local officials, employees and residents walked to work as their share in efforts to conserve energy, cut fuel consumption, and protect the environment.
Mayor Reinaldo Bautista Jr., Rep. Mauricio Domogan, Laoag Archbishop Ernesto Salgado, Bishop Carlito Cenzon and other local government officials walked to Burnham Park alongside government workers, teachers and their children for a flag-raising ceremony that launched the "Walk Baguio Walk" energy-saving campaign.
Read the rest of the article here.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Happy and Gay
I was 16 when a friend of mine "outed" himself to me. I can still remember the moment clearly: we were on the couch of my living room, there was a party going on, and he said to me, very seriously and from out of the blue, "Honey, I'm gay."
My response? "Oh, okay."
That was a first of many "outings" of male friends throughout the years - some, like the first, came out of left field; others met a reaction of "well, duh." And some never felt the need to say anything at all - it was a foregone conclusion that we didn't feel the need to discuss.
But I should say that I'm somewhat of a clearing for open admissions of sexuality, albeit that majority have not out-ed themselves to the general public. I guess it's mainly because I'm not one to condemn sexual preference, and also because I always react with, "Oh, okay. One more San Mig Light?"
The revelations have ranged from up-front admissions (often with some initial trepidation on the "admittee's" part) to phone conversations to outright confrontation (always gentle and non-accusatory, of course). And to the last person, every single admittee has become (if they weren't already) a great friend. Some have even introduced me to other gay friends who became great friends without the uncomfortable question of "is he or is he not" hanging in the background; there were even a few times when I was the only female in a big gathering of homosexuals, many of whom were still in the closet - and they were free to BE.
Now, my mother likes to explain away my civil status with the hypothesis that most of the men I hang out with are interested in other men: "Ayan, bakla na naman kasi ang kasama mo!" Which, I should say, is not entirely true (and I also say this for the benefit of my heterosexual guy friends who may be inaccurately branded). I have an equal proportion of straight and gay buddies, but I guess it's the gay guys who create a lasting impression (especially around Mummy). And because they tend to "come out" of the woodwork around me.
Which is just fine with me. I've wept with them over their heartaches, pretty much like I've done with my female friends (or even more so - my girl friends are a hardy bunch). I've listened to their sexual shenanigans in great detail (very few straight men friends dare to even discuss that, much less female friends). I've heard all about their struggles with their preference, and even seen many of them through the suffering - the key to which being, a non-judgmental "oh, okay." And my relationship with gay men has even honed my finely tuned "gay-dar" - which, unfortunately, only seems to work on Asian men. I've had to consult the experts (i.e., my gay friends) on the disputable gender orientation of certain men of other races, particularly Caucasians. But still, I'm never ever surprised by revelations of sexual orientation. All together now: "Oh, okay."
My gay friends are wonderful human beings, with their own trials and triumphs. They are amazingly self-expressed around me, and fondly affectionate - I wouldn't allow many straight guy friends to be so outrightly cuddlesome. I would however, walk hand in hand with a gay friend in the mall without worrying about what anyone would think (and many of my gay friends are HOT male specimens, so that's added value, even though imaginary haha). Speaking of which, some of them have been mistaken by other people not in the know, as my current beaus...if only other people knew what I do! When we're whispering into each other's ear, it's not sweet nothings - we're just talking about the cute guy across the room and making bets as to which gender he prefers.
So anyway, here's to my gay friends, in the closet or out. I love you all, you're blessings in my life - but heck, let me find Mr. Right without your getting first dibs! Mwah :-)
P.S. I've also had some amount of female gay out-ings in my life, but not as much. At least they're not competition. :-)
My response? "Oh, okay."
That was a first of many "outings" of male friends throughout the years - some, like the first, came out of left field; others met a reaction of "well, duh." And some never felt the need to say anything at all - it was a foregone conclusion that we didn't feel the need to discuss.
But I should say that I'm somewhat of a clearing for open admissions of sexuality, albeit that majority have not out-ed themselves to the general public. I guess it's mainly because I'm not one to condemn sexual preference, and also because I always react with, "Oh, okay. One more San Mig Light?"
The revelations have ranged from up-front admissions (often with some initial trepidation on the "admittee's" part) to phone conversations to outright confrontation (always gentle and non-accusatory, of course). And to the last person, every single admittee has become (if they weren't already) a great friend. Some have even introduced me to other gay friends who became great friends without the uncomfortable question of "is he or is he not" hanging in the background; there were even a few times when I was the only female in a big gathering of homosexuals, many of whom were still in the closet - and they were free to BE.
Now, my mother likes to explain away my civil status with the hypothesis that most of the men I hang out with are interested in other men: "Ayan, bakla na naman kasi ang kasama mo!" Which, I should say, is not entirely true (and I also say this for the benefit of my heterosexual guy friends who may be inaccurately branded). I have an equal proportion of straight and gay buddies, but I guess it's the gay guys who create a lasting impression (especially around Mummy). And because they tend to "come out" of the woodwork around me.
Which is just fine with me. I've wept with them over their heartaches, pretty much like I've done with my female friends (or even more so - my girl friends are a hardy bunch). I've listened to their sexual shenanigans in great detail (very few straight men friends dare to even discuss that, much less female friends). I've heard all about their struggles with their preference, and even seen many of them through the suffering - the key to which being, a non-judgmental "oh, okay." And my relationship with gay men has even honed my finely tuned "gay-dar" - which, unfortunately, only seems to work on Asian men. I've had to consult the experts (i.e., my gay friends) on the disputable gender orientation of certain men of other races, particularly Caucasians. But still, I'm never ever surprised by revelations of sexual orientation. All together now: "Oh, okay."
My gay friends are wonderful human beings, with their own trials and triumphs. They are amazingly self-expressed around me, and fondly affectionate - I wouldn't allow many straight guy friends to be so outrightly cuddlesome. I would however, walk hand in hand with a gay friend in the mall without worrying about what anyone would think (and many of my gay friends are HOT male specimens, so that's added value, even though imaginary haha). Speaking of which, some of them have been mistaken by other people not in the know, as my current beaus...if only other people knew what I do! When we're whispering into each other's ear, it's not sweet nothings - we're just talking about the cute guy across the room and making bets as to which gender he prefers.
So anyway, here's to my gay friends, in the closet or out. I love you all, you're blessings in my life - but heck, let me find Mr. Right without your getting first dibs! Mwah :-)
P.S. I've also had some amount of female gay out-ings in my life, but not as much. At least they're not competition. :-)
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The Difference Between Men and Women
I'm pretty blessed to have as friends a variety of the most amazing human beings who have ever walked the planet. In fact, at one point a couple of years ago, I even wondered, what did a loser like myself do to deserve friends like this? Turns out I wasn't such a loser after all. :-) Like attracts like, amazing attracts fantabulous, so I'm no longer in the dark about it. Ha ha!
But anyway. I've been looking at my relationships with these wonderful friends of mine, and distinguishing the dynamics that exist as regards my male buddies, as opposed to my female ones. Doing my personal version of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus, so to speak. I shall do a whole entry on my gay friends (and they are many), but I may make reference to them as well as I go along (or not).
Women are Cheerleaders, Men are Naysayers. And it's no coincidence that my best guy friend's name is "Ney" (not just Ney but Ney!Ney!) My women friends egg me on, especially in relationships - some even see meaning and possibility where there is none. Not particularly helpful, especially in the realm of "experience" vs. "interpretation" - but I find it a uniquely female trait. Women will get kilig with you, and I've even had some female friends CREATE the experience of kilig FOR me: "Uuuuy why did he ask you this-and-that?" or "You're so bagay!" While all the time I'm going, duh? What happened? Sometimes I miss the ball that's coming straight at me - or even, the imaginary ball.
Men, on the other hand, will take on being devil's advocate, to the point of crushing every hope and dream and interpretation one harbors. I don't know if it's the challenge of it, but they will argue the other side of the coin, come hell or highwater. They will deconstruct everything that happened into just that - it doesn't mean anything until the guy in question actually declares it out loud and/or swears on a stack of Bibles. Not only that, even if he's done so, men will find something wrong about the other man in question, and ultimately say, as opposed to the women's "He's so great/perfect for you!!!," that "There's something wrong with him." For years, I've received a gamut of male comrade feedback that ranged from "He's not right/good enough for you," to "Bad idea," "He looks like so-and-so (insert negative caricature)," "I think he's gay,", "I don't like him." Take that simultaneously with women friends' rah-rah and you got a schizo in the making.
Women will laugh and cry with you, Men want to make it all better. The wonderful thing about girl friends is that they will listen, commiserate, be happy/pissed/sad with you, no questions asked.
Men will try to FIX whatever they think is going wrong, just so you don't shed another tear. The thing is, sometimes you just need a shoulder, not a handyman. I've given a few male friends lessons in saying "ah huh," "is that so," and "I'm sorry to hear about that" to the women in their life - but they've never quite managed to resist the urge. They just gotta be Mister Fix-It...and consequently have to bear the ire of whatever female is unburdening on them.
Women talk feelings and experience, Men talk shop. I've never been the kind of girl who goes into the restroom with a gaggle of other females and emerges an hour later. I go the bathroom to powder my nose or go pee, and I don't need an entourage or more than five minutes to accomplish that. I can talk to you about our dates or whatever else ails me, emotionally, much, much later. But if we're going out with our guys, I just wanna talk...with you and with them. Men don't feel the need to congregate in the confines of the little boys' room to dwell on whether their dates like them or not - I don't think they even dwell on that issue at all, in public. I've found myself, more than once, left with all the men - talking shop - while the women disappeared into the black hole of the loo; I've had to retrieve them more than a couple of times.
Women don't go out for a couple of beers, Men do. Most women, that is. Sometimes I just want to toss back a couple and have a heartfelt conversation over copious amounts of alcohol - but many of my women friends want coffee and cheesecake...neither of which are on my list of favorite things (caffeine and carbs, ugh!). Thank goodness my best female friend appreciates the soothing properties of alcohol, and indulges with me on many occasions. So does my best male friend - and a whole range of other guy friends who don't think anything of having several brewskies to end the night. I don't have too many girl friends who will do that with me, unfortunately.
Thus, the best evenings for me are with my two best friends - one male, one female - over a bottle of wine each, balancing each other's quirks out by imbibing sufficient amounts of booze, crying on each other's shoulders, and saying what's there without fear or favor. Sometimes the male tries to fix it and the females (myself included) are a little too accomodating, but everything all works out in the end.
But anyway. I've been looking at my relationships with these wonderful friends of mine, and distinguishing the dynamics that exist as regards my male buddies, as opposed to my female ones. Doing my personal version of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus, so to speak. I shall do a whole entry on my gay friends (and they are many), but I may make reference to them as well as I go along (or not).
Women are Cheerleaders, Men are Naysayers. And it's no coincidence that my best guy friend's name is "Ney" (not just Ney but Ney!Ney!) My women friends egg me on, especially in relationships - some even see meaning and possibility where there is none. Not particularly helpful, especially in the realm of "experience" vs. "interpretation" - but I find it a uniquely female trait. Women will get kilig with you, and I've even had some female friends CREATE the experience of kilig FOR me: "Uuuuy why did he ask you this-and-that?" or "You're so bagay!" While all the time I'm going, duh? What happened? Sometimes I miss the ball that's coming straight at me - or even, the imaginary ball.
Men, on the other hand, will take on being devil's advocate, to the point of crushing every hope and dream and interpretation one harbors. I don't know if it's the challenge of it, but they will argue the other side of the coin, come hell or highwater. They will deconstruct everything that happened into just that - it doesn't mean anything until the guy in question actually declares it out loud and/or swears on a stack of Bibles. Not only that, even if he's done so, men will find something wrong about the other man in question, and ultimately say, as opposed to the women's "He's so great/perfect for you!!!," that "There's something wrong with him." For years, I've received a gamut of male comrade feedback that ranged from "He's not right/good enough for you," to "Bad idea," "He looks like so-and-so (insert negative caricature)," "I think he's gay,", "I don't like him." Take that simultaneously with women friends' rah-rah and you got a schizo in the making.
Women will laugh and cry with you, Men want to make it all better. The wonderful thing about girl friends is that they will listen, commiserate, be happy/pissed/sad with you, no questions asked.
Men will try to FIX whatever they think is going wrong, just so you don't shed another tear. The thing is, sometimes you just need a shoulder, not a handyman. I've given a few male friends lessons in saying "ah huh," "is that so," and "I'm sorry to hear about that" to the women in their life - but they've never quite managed to resist the urge. They just gotta be Mister Fix-It...and consequently have to bear the ire of whatever female is unburdening on them.
Women talk feelings and experience, Men talk shop. I've never been the kind of girl who goes into the restroom with a gaggle of other females and emerges an hour later. I go the bathroom to powder my nose or go pee, and I don't need an entourage or more than five minutes to accomplish that. I can talk to you about our dates or whatever else ails me, emotionally, much, much later. But if we're going out with our guys, I just wanna talk...with you and with them. Men don't feel the need to congregate in the confines of the little boys' room to dwell on whether their dates like them or not - I don't think they even dwell on that issue at all, in public. I've found myself, more than once, left with all the men - talking shop - while the women disappeared into the black hole of the loo; I've had to retrieve them more than a couple of times.
Women don't go out for a couple of beers, Men do. Most women, that is. Sometimes I just want to toss back a couple and have a heartfelt conversation over copious amounts of alcohol - but many of my women friends want coffee and cheesecake...neither of which are on my list of favorite things (caffeine and carbs, ugh!). Thank goodness my best female friend appreciates the soothing properties of alcohol, and indulges with me on many occasions. So does my best male friend - and a whole range of other guy friends who don't think anything of having several brewskies to end the night. I don't have too many girl friends who will do that with me, unfortunately.
Thus, the best evenings for me are with my two best friends - one male, one female - over a bottle of wine each, balancing each other's quirks out by imbibing sufficient amounts of booze, crying on each other's shoulders, and saying what's there without fear or favor. Sometimes the male tries to fix it and the females (myself included) are a little too accomodating, but everything all works out in the end.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Conversations with John
Had a nice congratulations-for-passing-the-NY-Bar lunch with my good friend and business partner John today. I've written about him briefly before; he's the kind of guy who would have been my favorite guy classmate/seatmate/confidant in elementary school, except that he was my favorite guy classmate/seatmate/confidant in the Landmark Advanced Course (which, come to think of it, was almost like elementary school, without the childhood drama). Add relationship guru to the mix, and that's John.
I only get to see him infrequently, but each time, our breakfast/lunch conversation progresses from sometime business matters, his work, and Landmark kwento, to relationship - particularly, the state of mine. Other than my best guy friend Ney, who brings a whole different flavor to the "he said-she said" conversation (and who isn't quite the early morning/afternoon person), John brings the happily-married male perspective into clear daylight.
Yesterday, at another lunch with the girls, I firmly resolved to really put what I'm creating in a relationship at the foreground, instead of conveniently brushing it aside and concentrating on and doing well at the "easier" stuff (like career and everything else I'm up to). In the end, Miles said to just get off it (albeit in more graphic terms) and declare that I'm interested in this particular person I'm uncertain about (what's new? Sigh).
John has a different take on it. First off, he's met the guy and doesn't like him ("smart aleck" daw). Haha! That's what guy friends are for (well-meaning saboteurs! Women friends are so much more encouraging). Second, he says he's gotta be convinced that I'm reeeeeaaally in love with someone, as in with the whole experience of butterflies-in-stomach and pounding heart (as opposed to just being "interested"). Third - and he says he's pretty good at this - he offered me a prescription of what kind of guy I should be with.
According to him, the guy would be someone "on the court" - the basketball court, that is - rather than in his head; someone in action. So no uber self-analytical, introspective types. Someone who'd come back from his sport (or something - this is John's creation), and say, Come on, let's grab a beer (that part I like, hehe). And not always be asking to "analyze him" - except on occasion. Someone's who's smart without the aleck, is no pushover (I can push pretty hard), and who's ready to take on caring for me and the kids (that's good old forward-thinking John).
I kinda met someone like that not so long ago, but I let him "get away." John says for me to go get him back. In the meantime, he's on the lookout too, on my behalf, for a sport-playing, self-expressed, smart guy whom he can get along with. Wait a minute, I thought this was all about ME!
I only get to see him infrequently, but each time, our breakfast/lunch conversation progresses from sometime business matters, his work, and Landmark kwento, to relationship - particularly, the state of mine. Other than my best guy friend Ney, who brings a whole different flavor to the "he said-she said" conversation (and who isn't quite the early morning/afternoon person), John brings the happily-married male perspective into clear daylight.
Yesterday, at another lunch with the girls, I firmly resolved to really put what I'm creating in a relationship at the foreground, instead of conveniently brushing it aside and concentrating on and doing well at the "easier" stuff (like career and everything else I'm up to). In the end, Miles said to just get off it (albeit in more graphic terms) and declare that I'm interested in this particular person I'm uncertain about (what's new? Sigh).
John has a different take on it. First off, he's met the guy and doesn't like him ("smart aleck" daw). Haha! That's what guy friends are for (well-meaning saboteurs! Women friends are so much more encouraging). Second, he says he's gotta be convinced that I'm reeeeeaaally in love with someone, as in with the whole experience of butterflies-in-stomach and pounding heart (as opposed to just being "interested"). Third - and he says he's pretty good at this - he offered me a prescription of what kind of guy I should be with.
According to him, the guy would be someone "on the court" - the basketball court, that is - rather than in his head; someone in action. So no uber self-analytical, introspective types. Someone who'd come back from his sport (or something - this is John's creation), and say, Come on, let's grab a beer (that part I like, hehe). And not always be asking to "analyze him" - except on occasion. Someone's who's smart without the aleck, is no pushover (I can push pretty hard), and who's ready to take on caring for me and the kids (that's good old forward-thinking John).
I kinda met someone like that not so long ago, but I let him "get away." John says for me to go get him back. In the meantime, he's on the lookout too, on my behalf, for a sport-playing, self-expressed, smart guy whom he can get along with. Wait a minute, I thought this was all about ME!
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Wellness
I'm OFF IT! The sickness, that is. Funny how a single conversation can spell the whole difference.
The symptoms I'd written about earlier went the congested-respiratory-system way. There was a heaviness in my chest, a general experince of malaise and unwellness, just not being OK, physically.
But trust my committed listener to get to the root of all this - of why I wasn't at full power, of what I'd been suppressing (hence the congestion), of why I wasn't completely alive and well.
In the course of the conversation, natumbok namin. Without getting into the details, I had myself BACK in possibility, fully enlivened, ready to take on the infinite. Healed, and complete. Praise God for providing that. :-)
I'm fully charged and ready to go! The lights of possibility are on and at full wattage. MERALCO, send me the bill!
The symptoms I'd written about earlier went the congested-respiratory-system way. There was a heaviness in my chest, a general experince of malaise and unwellness, just not being OK, physically.
But trust my committed listener to get to the root of all this - of why I wasn't at full power, of what I'd been suppressing (hence the congestion), of why I wasn't completely alive and well.
In the course of the conversation, natumbok namin. Without getting into the details, I had myself BACK in possibility, fully enlivened, ready to take on the infinite. Healed, and complete. Praise God for providing that. :-)
I'm fully charged and ready to go! The lights of possibility are on and at full wattage. MERALCO, send me the bill!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Sick Day
I'm declaring a sick day tomorrow. The symptoms of illness - which, I should say, I rarely encounter - are upon me: a weird stuck-ness in my throat, muscle aches, cotton in my head. It's still to early to determine which way they're going - be it a cough, colds, or the flu - but a dis-ease is brewing.
So what is up? I come from a family of physicians, so the logical explanation would be some virus attacking an immune system weakened by the weekend of strenuous travel and late nights. But I'm more interested in the ontological explanation of disease: mentally and metaphysically, physiology aside, what has my body experience this imbalance? After all, as Christ healed physical infirmities, he forgave the attendant sin and released the accompanying suffering. So there must be something there - we all probably know about how mental stress results in ulcers, insomnia, and skin disease.
One great resource is Louise Hay's Heal Your Body, which gets to the thought patterns that contribute to disease. I don't claim it to be Gospel truth, but it sure has hit the mark too often to ignore. So let's take a look at the possible sources of my impending illness/es:
Hmmm...at the moment, I can't pinpoint one or the other. But I guess I don't need to - I'll let the illness take its course, allow my body to heal itself, and continue to pray and distinguish what's with this gig. I'll be up and about on Thursday, but in the meantime I'm gonna crash and recuperate.
So what is up? I come from a family of physicians, so the logical explanation would be some virus attacking an immune system weakened by the weekend of strenuous travel and late nights. But I'm more interested in the ontological explanation of disease: mentally and metaphysically, physiology aside, what has my body experience this imbalance? After all, as Christ healed physical infirmities, he forgave the attendant sin and released the accompanying suffering. So there must be something there - we all probably know about how mental stress results in ulcers, insomnia, and skin disease.
One great resource is Louise Hay's Heal Your Body, which gets to the thought patterns that contribute to disease. I don't claim it to be Gospel truth, but it sure has hit the mark too often to ignore. So let's take a look at the possible sources of my impending illness/es:
Muscles (or the pains thereof) - Resistance to new experiences. Muscles represent our ability to move in life.
Colds - Too much going on at once. Mental confusion, disorder. Small hurts.
Coughs - A desire to bark at the world. "See me! Listen to me!"
Influenza - Response to mass negativity and beliefs. Fear. Belief in statistics.
Hmmm...at the moment, I can't pinpoint one or the other. But I guess I don't need to - I'll let the illness take its course, allow my body to heal itself, and continue to pray and distinguish what's with this gig. I'll be up and about on Thursday, but in the meantime I'm gonna crash and recuperate.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Whatta Weekend!
Woke up today (Monday) at 11 a.m. after an awesome weekend. The adventure began early Friday morning with assisting in the Landmark Advanced Course, and continued throughout the afternoon drive up to Quezon with Bakang the balikbayan. Johanna couldn't make it until the next morning, so we ventured off on our own, neither of us knowing exactly where Quezon was (see earlier post about that quandary).
But we made it all the way to Lucena with nary a hitch, spared of the traffic that the earlier rains had brought. The signs just pointed the way, and we were pleasantly surprised, in the middle of a good conversation, to find ourselves right in front of the hotel. Yay!
The evening and the next morning were all about wedding preparations; while we're on the topic, I have a few words to say about preparations in general. Although I enjoy some amount of spontaneity in my travels, I'm still very much a planner when it comes to the essentials: tickets booked ahead of time, a fully gassed-up car that works, everything I need to pack, a place to stay. Gone are the days of just taking off and sleeping in the car or on the concrete of an open-air basketball court. And so, I'd naturally booked Johanna and myself a room at the Queen Margarette (silent, superfluous "te"), as recommended by Bogart. Bakang and another friend who arrived later that evening had not. Neither did some other guests who got into town only to find that there were no other rooms available. So my point is, adequate preparation saves the day and eliminates unnecessary suffering. Fortunately for Bakang and friend, the absent Johanna's bed was big enough for the both of them, and the room eventually accomodated all four of us the next night, so the boys didn't have to sleep in the bathtub.
Saturday afternoon was Bogart and Neren's wedding - a wonderfully moving ceremony attended by family and friends, many of whom had flown in from far away or driven the distance. The reception was of rockstar calibre, not surprising for Boging the rockstar personified! It was an opportunity to connect with friends we'd met throughout the years of jamming at Bogart and Bakang's apartment (many of whom I didn't recognize immediately in the finery of their apparel - and vice versa: "Honey, is that you? It's Honey, right?! We had some beers together on such-and-such date," and so on) and to create new ones. And so the drinking and the conversation went on throughout the eve and the night of the wedding...with and without the happy couple. This particular group of friends of mine is extremely musically inclined, so Bakang's new Suzhou-purchased acoustic guitar was put to good use.
The day after was a little more relaxed, with a lot less alcohol involved. We took a trip further down Quezon to Lucban for a nice seafood lunch, and headed back home to Manila, blessed with minimal traffic and great weather. For me, the evening was far from over as I went straight back to the Advanced Course afterwards...and I finally called it a wrap at 4:00 a.m. on Monday, happy and fulfilled.
Whatta weekend indeed, and what an incredible week that lies ahead!!
But we made it all the way to Lucena with nary a hitch, spared of the traffic that the earlier rains had brought. The signs just pointed the way, and we were pleasantly surprised, in the middle of a good conversation, to find ourselves right in front of the hotel. Yay!
The evening and the next morning were all about wedding preparations; while we're on the topic, I have a few words to say about preparations in general. Although I enjoy some amount of spontaneity in my travels, I'm still very much a planner when it comes to the essentials: tickets booked ahead of time, a fully gassed-up car that works, everything I need to pack, a place to stay. Gone are the days of just taking off and sleeping in the car or on the concrete of an open-air basketball court. And so, I'd naturally booked Johanna and myself a room at the Queen Margarette (silent, superfluous "te"), as recommended by Bogart. Bakang and another friend who arrived later that evening had not. Neither did some other guests who got into town only to find that there were no other rooms available. So my point is, adequate preparation saves the day and eliminates unnecessary suffering. Fortunately for Bakang and friend, the absent Johanna's bed was big enough for the both of them, and the room eventually accomodated all four of us the next night, so the boys didn't have to sleep in the bathtub.
Saturday afternoon was Bogart and Neren's wedding - a wonderfully moving ceremony attended by family and friends, many of whom had flown in from far away or driven the distance. The reception was of rockstar calibre, not surprising for Boging the rockstar personified! It was an opportunity to connect with friends we'd met throughout the years of jamming at Bogart and Bakang's apartment (many of whom I didn't recognize immediately in the finery of their apparel - and vice versa: "Honey, is that you? It's Honey, right?! We had some beers together on such-and-such date," and so on) and to create new ones. And so the drinking and the conversation went on throughout the eve and the night of the wedding...with and without the happy couple. This particular group of friends of mine is extremely musically inclined, so Bakang's new Suzhou-purchased acoustic guitar was put to good use.
The day after was a little more relaxed, with a lot less alcohol involved. We took a trip further down Quezon to Lucban for a nice seafood lunch, and headed back home to Manila, blessed with minimal traffic and great weather. For me, the evening was far from over as I went straight back to the Advanced Course afterwards...and I finally called it a wrap at 4:00 a.m. on Monday, happy and fulfilled.
Whatta weekend indeed, and what an incredible week that lies ahead!!
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