Misa De Gallo - Day 2

My son had another pleasant surprise at Mass when the Responsorial Psalm was read.  His eyes widened and mouthed "Magnificat!".  Mary's song is part of our daily prayers and he felt very proud knowing it as it was being read.

Luke 1:46-48, 49-50, 53-54

R: My soul rejoices in my God.

46 My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; 47 my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48 for he has looked upon his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed. (R) 49 The Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name. 50 He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation. (R)53 He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. 54 He has come to help of his servant Israel for he has remembered his promise of mercy. (R)

Although Mary's Song is one of my favorite prayers, this time it was the Gospel and the homily that resonated with me.

John 1:6-8, 19-28

6 A man named John was sent from God.7 He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8 He was not the light, but came to testify to the light.19 And this is the testimony of John. When the Jews from Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to him to ask him, “Who are you?” 20 he admitted and did not deny it, but admitted, “I am not the Christ.” 21 So they asked him, “What are you then? Are you Elijah?” And he said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” He answered, “No.” 22 So they said to him, “Who are you, so we can give an answer to those who sent us? What do you have to say for yourself?” 23 He said: “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert, make straight the way of the Lord, as Isaiah the prophet said.” 24 Some Pharisees were also sent. 25 They asked him, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Christ or Elijah or the Prophet?” 26 John answered them, “I baptize with water; but there is one among you whom you do not recognize, 27 the one who is coming after me, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.” 28 This happened in Bethany across the Jordan, where John was baptizing.

The point of the Gospel is that John is not the Christ.  He is merely preparing the way for Christ Himself.  (I am reminded of this everytime we passed by the street sweepers on our way to Mass. Hidden figures making sure the roads are clean before first light.)

Christmas Season is such a big event for us, Filipinos.  We have so many customs and traditions that truly make it the Season of Giving.  And it's good.  But, sometimes, all of the festivities distract us from the true essence of Christmas, which is Christ's birthday.  

The second point that struck me was that John is the "voice in the desert".  I picture desert as a desolate and quiet place, very different from all the merriment and parties.  Amidst all the festivities, may we find a quiet place where we can listen to John's voice.  (For me, that has been the Misa De Gallo).  Afterall, Jesus is the reason for the Season.

Misa De Gallo - Day 1

For years, my sister and I have kept the tradition of going to the Misa De Gallo (or Simbang Gabi or Misa De Aguinaldo - Dawn Mass) novena Masses leading up to Christmas.  My son had joined us sporadically.  At first, he just wanted to go wherever Mama and Auntie goes; then it depended on whether we would eat early morning breakfast at either one of his favorite restaurants afterwards.

This year I talked to him about why we go to Misa De Gallo and was hoping he would go out of his own volition.  I said, if he ever decides to go, it should be with his whole heart; otherwise, it would be useless.  I promised to wake him up and let him decide.

December 16 morning was the first day. Dutifully, I knocked on his door and woke him up.  He said, "I'm not ready to go po.  I don't have a full heart po.  Maybe tomorrow po."  I said, these are novena Masses, so he needed to start from the very first day.  He came, half-heartedly.

At Mass, I could tell the kid was struggling ... and then we stood up for Gospel Acclamation:

"Alleluia, Alleluia.  Come, Lord, bring us Your peace that we may rejoice before You with a perfect heart.  Alleluia, Alleluia."

He shot an amazed look my way and I smugly flashed him my best "I-told-you-so" smile (sometimes my son thinks I'm savant; sometimes I play it up, but most of the time I thank God for the gift of mother's instincts).  I made a mental note to process it with him later.  But, since errands overtook me, I just managed a text message (yes, we leverage technology that way):  "Sometimes the heart needs a little prodding/push.  I'm glad you came this morning.  I think you are, too, right?"  To which he replied, "Opo" (Yes).

But, for me, the important part was when our parish priest, Fr. Lambert, effectively set it up for my son (and everyone in attendance) by breaking down the different facets of the Dawn Mass.

1. Misa De Gallo (Gallo = Tandang = Rooster).  Historically, it is called Misa De Gallo because it happens at the crack of dawn, when roosters welcome the new day.  This primarily catered to farmers who had to start working on their fields before the sun rose.  Thus, it is a Mass to kickstart our day.
2. Simbang Gabi (Evening Mass).  The Mass happens while most are still asleep; while the sky is still dark.  Picture how this happens in the fields, where there is little electricity.  Farmers waking up and walking in the dark towards the church with just their lamps. Pinpricks of light slowly coming together towards the church.  Also, for our chosen time slot - 5:30 am, it is symbolic that, when we enter the Church it is still dark.  But, when the Mass ends, there is already some light as we step out of the Church --- much like how it is when Christ came into the world in darkness and brought it into the light.
3. Misa De Aguinaldo (Gift).  It is, first and foremost, a gift. The Mass is a channel for the outpouring of Christ's blessings and graces on those attending AND everyone they are praying for. (Another amazed look from my son to me.  We had listed down everyone we wanted to pray for.  Sometimes someone else has to confirm it before he believes anything I say).  Even the readings attest to this.  All the circumstances around Samson's, John the Baptist's, and Jesus' birth are impossible.  And, yet, they happened --- so ask in faith BOLDLY!
4. Novena Masses. We attend the Mass for 9 consecutive days.  Anything done consistently and consecutively creates a habit.  The assumption is that, since these are Masses, what we learn translates into our lives, creating positive habits and enabling a slow but sure change for the good.
5. In honor of Mary.  The Masses honor the 9 months during which Mama Mary awaited the birth of her Son, Jesus Christ.  In these 9 days, we walk with her in hopeful anticipation and faithful preparation for the second coming of Jesus.

After the homily, I noticed a renewed fervor at how my son participated in the Mass.  He was genuinely happy on our drive back home having found rhyme and reason (other than breakfast out) for waking up extra early just to attend Misa De Gallo.

Bigger Bear Series: When Club Teachers Go "On Strike"

It was the weekend before our Homeschool community's Christmas party and our FB group messaging was going crazy.  What's all the fuss? I figured the organizers were giving last-minute details and (like any normal girl/boy-scout-homeschooling stage mom/dad) the mommies/daddies were probably throwing very creative "why-didn't-we-think-about-that" questions.

But, while there were instructions, these were not the reason for the messaging frenzy.

Apparently, both our Voice coach and Hiphop teacher were suddenly unavailable (there must be some sort of conspiracy).  On Monday.  Our final practice day.  Just two days before the actual presentation today.

Did I mention we were also suddenly two kids short? Just two, you say?  We have less than 10 kids in each club.  The two matter.  A lot.

Oh, and, by the way, it's our first offsite Christmas party --- at Enchanted Kingdom (capacity: 20,000 people), no less.  The kids will be presenting on stage in front of a huge audience outside of our humble Homeschool community.

In just a few hours, we were fully staffed with pairs of Teacher Mommies and a Junior High School Ate (just mildly forced *wink*) volunteering to help the kids practice their songs and dance number.  AND we had kids coming in as reinforcements.  Yehey!

Monday rolled in with the Teacher Mommies, Ate (big sister) and the participating kids coaching (and semi-arguing with) each other on the presentations.  Monday ended with a partly decent output and a solemn promise to practice at home.

Today I woke up feeling it came way too soon.  But I found comfort in seeing that everyone was there and raring to give 200%.  We ran through the entire musical twice.  After the second run through, it felt like we needed 10 more.  But the show must already go on by then, so we dove right into it with a little prayer and a little faith.  And, somehow, the actual presentation just magically came together.

It was beautiful!

What we lacked in professional training, practice and technical experience, we more than made up with a lot of heart.  There was tremendous love in the chaos.  And, although I did not have a chance to take photos, "Kodak moments" (happy to use a term the millennials do not know, for a change) abounded.

These are some of the snapshots I stored in my memory bank:

• The gloomy weather giving way to fine weather --- because we all prayed for it!
• Everyone's joy at seeing the two kids who originally couldn't come due to a medical emergency
• Our Teacher Mommy Production Lead calling out instructions to no one in particular ... and random mommies and daddies doing them
• Homeschool Alumnus Kuya (big brother, also just mildly forced) stepping up to lead the choir
• Daddy Host popping his head from behind the black curtain to prompt the audience to clap their hands for the Admin Team's presentation
• Mommies ghost singing along with the choir to help their voices carry through the open air venue
• Mics "jumping" up (where the actors are) and down (where the orchestra and choir are) the stage --- at just the right times
• Mommies and daddies  (not necessarily the corresponding parents) lifting orchestra and choir kids onto the stage for the final dance number
• Mommies in front of the stage, shamelessly dancing in full view of everyone to guide the Hiphop crew
• Other kids and a number of brave mommies joining in towards the end, just like a mob dance
• Everyone's heartfelt singing of our birthday song to Jesus
• One of our kid actors holding up the heavy cake for the entire duration of the slow and long birthday song, clearly feeling the weight by the second, but still managing a bright smile
• Everyone hugging and congratulating each other after the show
• Kids trooping out arm-in-arm to enjoy the rides together 
• Parents giving in to their inner child and screaming their stresses away on the rides

Looking back to the events of the past few days, I realized, when Club Teachers go "on strike", things have the potential to get exponentially better --- because, then, stage moms and dads unite. And we all know anything  done out of love almost always turns out perfect.

Thank you to Mommy Events Head and her amazing team’s blood, sweat and tears for an EKstraordinarily EKciting EK Christmas.  Sa uulitin!

Bigger Bear Series: The Blessings of a Pest Invasion

A couple of months ago we discovered termites around our room.  We did what any normal people would - we boxed up our stuff, called the exterminators and blamed our neighbor's mango tree (that I, incidentally, enjoy looking at while I work from home.  It's a beautifully lush mango tree --- that harbors termites) for the invasion.

Needless to say, last month's pest control session was an ordeal - from the boxing to the unboxing.  After some sufficient grumbling and name calling, I managed to calm down and find the silver lining --- sometime around 2 am in the morning, in the middle of a pile of boxes, holding a card that A made for me.

Here are a few things I learned:

1. You know you have way too much stuff when there are pests wanting to take part in the bounty.
2. You don't need more storage space.  No. You need to let go and declutter.  Get rid of all that excess baggage.  It's time for those pre-loved items to move on with someone else. Trust me, the resulting gloriously breathable space is liberating!  
3. Out of sight, out of mind.  I discovered an "old" new pair of shoes that I had never worn.  I don't even remember when I bought them!  Obviously, it was a want, not a need --- which made me seriously re-think my buying habits.  I realized, there are so much more worthwhile uses for the money I used to buy my "wants" pretending to be "needs".  
4. A good cleaning brings to light hidden treasures.  I found a folder filled with A's treasures and what I found tugged at my heartstrings.  There are so many moments when I feel hopelessly clueless about being a mother and I wonder whether I am doing enough to prepare him for life. What I found in that folder reassured me that he will be fine. (Sniff!)
5. There is a season for everything. There are things you used so much before, that you hardly need now.  There are things you used to do everyday, that you just can't squeeze into your days anymore.  And, sometimes, getting back to them can be good therapy.
6. We grow and, consequently, outgrow things.  Aside from the obvious: clothes that won't fit me anymore, I found things that I once valued and kept, that just didn't serve me anymore.  I got rid of a lot of work stuff. (Yeah!) What I kept were all the notes I received from different people who walked with me through the years --- some of them are still around (permanent fixtures in my life that I am truly grateful for), while some have walked on to separate paths.
7. Every now and then, we all need a good walk down memory lane to: (1) marvel at how far we've gone; (2) pat ourselves on the back for how much we've grown; (3) be reminded of all those beautiful and bittersweet moments we shared with individuals who helped mold us into who we are; (4) go back to our roots and remember who we are; and (5) be grateful to Life's Author for loving our characters into being.

Who would have thought this whole termite deal would take me to an emotional rollercoaster ride?  Ironically, the damn termites did me more good than bad.  I learned, once again, how God works in VERY mysterious ways.  And He's got one heck of a sense of humor. (Ha. Ha. Ha, God! But, seriously, thank You! I needed this).

Poetic Dose: Para Kay Fidel / For Fidel

"Para 'to sa pinakamabait at pinakamatalinong taong nakilala ko.  Sige na nga ... cute na rin."

#100TulaParaKayStella

Sa aking Fidel ...

Handog sana'y makatang tula
Nais pukawin ang iyong interes

Ngunit ikaw ang tunay na makata
At ako ay nagpapanggap lamang

Puspos ng mga damdaming
Di man lang alam ang ngalan

Kapos sa matatalinhagang mga salita
Sa iniibig na sariling wikang


So I will speak to you in the only way I know how,
hoping I move your heart somehow ...

For Fidel

Release.

I needed some form of release

from this gnawing feeling 

inside of me.

Deja vu.

Have I been here before?

Heard those words?  

Spoken those words?

Wishful thinking.

Do I hope to be there?

Hope to hear those words - from you?

Wish to speak them - to you?

Tremble.

Not merely my heart

But my soul

in its deepest core.

Fall apart.

My carefully built world

All I ever knew

and believed in.

Come apart.

Only now

After so many years

My one true love.

Undone.

I have come undone

My one true broken heart.

My undoing ... and yours?

(I loved you, too.  "Hanggang ngayon naman")

#RayaBlabbers

100 Tula Para Kay Stella: Sabihin Mo Na

Compass

I am part of a global project, Compass, and, boy, has it lived up to its name!  (I have not traveled this much since Global Internal Audit).  Between the travels, actual work, family, homeschool and social life, I barely have time to breathe; much less, write.

So, tonight is a rare opportunity and I'm grabbing it (though I'm bound to be rusty).

Last month's Compass trip seemed to revolve around one theme:  Direction (I'm not kidding).  Some are timely reminders of forgotten lessons; some are new lessons that strengthen the old.

"Dead Men Tell No Tales"

During the flight to the US, I watched "Pirates of the Caribbean:  Dead Men Tell No Tales".  It was about the lifelong quest of two individuals (a boy and a girl, of course) for their fathers.  At the heart of it was a compass that pointed towards one's greatest desire / treasure.

Here are what I picked up from the movie:

1. Jack woke up in a drunken haze, not knowing where he was nor what he was doing. A person with no direction is essentially dead. The same can be said of a person with any form of addiction.
2. "I'm not looking for trouble!"; "What a horrible way to live".  To truly live means taking risks and making mistakes.  Fear paralyzes and leads to a slow, regret-filled death.
3. "Look at me, son.  Leave me now before it's too late"; "I won't. I'll never stop. And if you throw me over, I'll come straight back".  Do not give up on people you love who seem to have lost their way or don't want to be found.  God never loses hope nor should you.
4. "Maybe you should retire to the countryside."; "I'm a pirate.  Always will be!  So how do I save what be mine?" Be true.  Do not settle.  Do not compromise who you truly are.
5. Jack traded his compass for a bottle of rum.  Sometimes, while chasing after a false need, we lose what matters most.
6. Capt. Barbossa did not realize Carina was his daughter until he checked the compass. Always check your compass. Sometimes what we seek is right in front of us (cannot be more cliche; cannot be more true).
7. "I know which stars to follow home".  We do.  Sometimes we just don't follow them.

"Know your stars. Stay (or get back) on course"

At our head office, there was a women's symposium which took place on my final day.  I was unable to attend. But my manager gave me a very good debrief, particularly on one speaker's talk, which (lo and behold!) used stars in the analogies.

As it turns out, it is not uncommon for "successful" women to feel unhappy.  (I'm sure the same is true for men).   We typically get thrown into this crazy race for "success" that society defines and mandates.  Trouble is, in this race, there is a huge tendency to either (1) feel inadequate when we fail; or (2) feel empty or lost when we succeed. This is because, in most cases, these women are successful by society's terms, not their own. 

We need to know, maybe even define, our own stars to guide our course.  We have to define our own measures for success, based on what is truly important to us; our values and principles; our passions. And, from among these stars, pick out our True North, upon which all major decisions will be hinged.

Once we have defined our stars, then it will be easier to navigate through the tugs and pulls of the world or society.  This does not mean we will always be on course.  No.  It will always be a balance of  passion and practicality.  Sometimes we will find ourselves off course, but, once we know our True North, it should be easier to get back on course ... and feel right about it.

"You think there's nothing out there for you, but there is.  You just can't see it"

On the flight back to Manila, I watched "Water for Elephants".  There were no star analogies, but it touched on complacency, a trap we all have fallen into at some point. 

There are situations that serve us only for a moment, then we should move on.  Sometimes, however, we tend to overstay in a situation even when it no longer serves us; sometimes, to the point when it is already harmful for us.  We stay because we have grown accustomed to it, that we fail to see the situation for what it truly is.  We stay because we are afraid of what is out there, afraid that what is out there could be worse --- and it may be true.  

But is this where you should be?  Is this all you could ever be?

"It's gotta be now"

Then, when we do figure out that this is not where we should be, we take another 10 million years overthinking our next steps, endlessly planning when and how to go.

Sometimes, when that moment comes, we just have to jump.  There are better chances to get back on course while you are overboard than on a ship sailing towards the wrong direction.

  

Poetic Dose: FALL (3)

Fall (3)

Fall

Fall softly with me

Come let us dance in secret 

For all the world to see

Twirling in the gentle breeze

Synchronized without touching 

And I, 

I shall undress my soul

Right before the shifting shades

Of yours

And then fall

Fall

Softly 

Surely 

Into me

And I will cradle your heart in mine.

Poetic Doses: Thoughts on Fall

TRAIN

Life passes by in a blur

Like a train speeding through the tracks

Leaving me breathless

Staggering to keep my footing

So I sit

And allow life to take me where it will

The dizzying days

Disappearing as fast as they come

Yet, amidst the blur, I realize

Now

I have not moved

No closer nor farther from wherever I should be

So I stand

Surprised at my sure-footedness

Finally ready

To run 

     --- or jump.

FALL (1)

Fall

I love the fall

Those moments of giddy uncertainty;

Teetering

The catalyst moment 

That pushed you over the edge

And then all those moments stringed together 

Pulling you further down

There is no rush - nor fright 

Much like that of falling inlove. 

FALL (2)

Fall

I dread the fall

Yet enthralled by its beauty

There is charm in the inevitable 

Those quiet unseen moments 

That creep in between the warmth

Turning lush greens

Into shades of yellow, orange and red

Heralds of winter

When all things beautiful die

There is no poetry more tangible - nor pathetic

Than love fighting to breathe and keep breathing.

Poetic Doses: Australia Series

 

Who knows,

If you looked close enough,

You might just find me.

And yet,
For all her unapologetic wildness,
She is still
A delicately fragile flower;
Proud of her strength,
Yet astonishingly yielding;
Every bit
An intricately complex
Woman.

For what of love

When time moves

in never ending circles;

When love begins

and ends in the same breath;

When feelings come to light

long after they have died;

When forever misses a beat

and all is lost in that single breath?

What of love

What is love

But eternity lost in a moment

of uncertainty ...

Here I stand

An outsider

Watching

Watchful

A glimpse

You

A moment

More

To catch

Your light.

Bigger Bear Series: Endings, Breaking Free and New Beginnings

(Tang Law by Jerson Samson) 

It's a strange feeling, being here and now, at this very moment.  How did we get to this?  How did I get here --- without you? 

The years just flew by  in a blink of an eye.  And I am here, sitting dazed and lost amidst the swirl of memories and feelings.  I am startled by an epiphany:  So much ... and nothing ... has changed.

I am stardust, propelled here and there by the sheer force of your life; disintegrating; inconsequential against the trail you left behind.  

And, for a while that is a lifetime, I stood here rooted where you left me, dying a slow death.  Endings, when left unattended, have a way of numbing everything.

Then there were the jolts; the jolts that woke me from my stupor; the repeated painful jolts that sloughed off the "me" with you.

You are gone.

And I am reborn.

Poetic Dose: Pinto Series

(Art:  Haplos by Mark Justiniani)

Dream Walker

She came to him in dreams 

Always only in dreams;

Of black and white 

That melted into grey;

Then, of deep purple black

Riddled with pinpricks of light;

Of stretches of verdant fields

Flanked by Ents that swayed and danced;

And of gold, bright and then mellow

Resting against blues and salmon hues;

She came to him in dreams

Always only in dreams;

Until her palettes emptied like a raging river

Into a vast and colorless ocean;

And then, once more, 

She came to him in a dream;

To retrieve a drop of amber

Remnant of her heart and soul;

And he 

He remained slumbering ...

As in all the times she came.

Daraitan sa Mt. Daraitan

Daraitan means "Tagpuan" in Filipino; "Rendezvous" in English.

It was, by far, the most difficult hike I've ever done. (Granted, I've done only three; but, still ...).  Whoever rated its torture level at 4/10 must be related to Legolas, because it definitely felt more like a 12/10.  It was an all-assault trail.  And I mean "assault" in its truest sense:  steep, literally vertical!

Exhibit 1 - Notice the angle of my head.  I'm looking up.

Exhibit 2 - No, that is not just the camera angle.  That virtual wall is the trail.

"Guys, it's going to be like this the rest of the way."

Ten minutes in, I was catching my breath and having an internal argument with my body, which kept screaming, "I told you, we should have done some cardio!"

Before I could internally scream back some form of rebuttal, one of our trail guides cheerfully (I swear, he could hear the internal argument and was mocking me) proclaimed, "Guys, it's going to be like this the rest of the way." I looked at him with the most stoic it's-no-big-deal look I could muster.  He smiled back, a giddy silly isn't-that-awesome! kind of smile.

I smiled back ... and mentally punched him.

Then we took our first break. I sat down, took a sip of water, breathed deeply and looked up.  That's when I first saw it --- the elegantly rustic charm of the trail.  Every nook and cranny was a perfect photo subject, just beautiful beyond words. The lush greenery all around, the damp earth riddled with big and small rocks.  All of these, for all their randomness, felt thoughtfully placed --- right where I needed them for footing, for gripping or support. (And I needed a lot of support.  The trail is not for the vertically-challenged!). I can't help but think that God had meticulously prepared the trail for me. He must have.

"Kaya pa?" (Still manageable?)

I am not going to lie.  I struggled.  As I said, the trail is not for the vertically-challenged.  I swear, I must've grown at least an inch from all the stretching and reaching I had to do.  Yes, I said God had strategically placed supports left and right; but, sometimes, He made me work for them.

A few times along the way, one of the trail guides would check up on me and ask, "Kaya pa?".  I smile and he gives me a thumbs-up.

I realized, God is like a trail guide.  He points me towards the right direction, but allows me to decide which route to take.  He lets me maneuver the challenges my way; but watches over me like a hawk, swooping down in a heartbeat anytime I need help.  There is a sense of fulfillment in accomplishing things my way; and a sense of security knowing that He has my back.  And, because of that, I have the confidence to stretch beyond my perceived limits and say, "Kakayanin" (I will manage).

"Take 5"

I appreciate that the group was a good mix of strong seasoned and eager rookie hikers.  The stronger ones were the alpha team, who set the pace for the group; while those of us who lacked in strength but made up in eagerness took the sweep and "forced" everyone to "stop and smell the roses".

The alpha team sprinted ahead, but waited for us at the rest areas.  Their initial bursts of energy afforded them longer rest periods.

As for us, we took it slow and steady with our assigned trail guide regularly allowing us to "Take 5".  The pace and the short breaks enabled me to enjoy the trail more.  It afforded me time (short but sweet) to look around and appreciate the breathtaking scenery --- because it's precisely the reason I hike.  In nature is where I feel closest to God.

"Take 5", hands down, was my favorite phrase for the day.

"Promise. It's worth it".

Legolas' cousin, the person who rated the hike 4/10 when it is more appropriately a 12/10, must have been inspired somehow.  If he/she hadn't rated Mt. Daraitan a 4/10, we wouldn't have taken it.  And, for all the torture - external and internal, it was definitely worth it.

Our trail guides kept us pumped with "Promise.  It's worth it", said a million times sporadically throughout the hike.  And we latched on to this promise, climbing, trudging on and hanging on for dear life with it.

When we broke through the summit, I caught my breath.  It was 380 degrees of picturesque mountains. It was worth it.

Then we started our trek down towards Tinipak River.  Just when I started asking myself why I was subjecting myself (my knees, especially) to sheer torture, one of the guides said, "Promise.  It's worth it --- even more than the summit" (Weh?).

We finally reached the river and were ready to jump in, when the guides said we needed to walk a bit more (which was really "a lot more").  To which one of us spoke what's on everyone's mind, "But there's the river right there!"

"Promise.  It's worth it."

So, like the good hikers that we were, we followed our trail guides towards a more secluded area, where cold water from the cave emptied out into the river.  There are no words to describe just how beautiful the spot was ... and we had it all to ourselves!

At the end of the hike, I finally understood and appreciated the silly giddy isn't-it-awesome! smile of one of our trail guides.

It is true what they say, the hardest climb (or trek down) is the most worth it.  And, when the trek gets particularly difficult and challenging, remember:  "Promise.  It's worth it."

It always is.

Stumbling Through Multiple Brain Farts

The first day of the long weekend found me plastered on my bed up until noon.  My sister asked, "Did you pull an all-nighter?"

I was definitely up all night --- until first light peeked through the horizon, actually.  But, although the the spirit was more than willing, the body (the mind, specifically) just wasn't.  I wanted to download some of the swirling thoughts that had been waiting to transform into coherent ideas.  But the hours ticked by as I stared blankly at the monitor, struggling with one brain fart after another.  Or, perhaps, it's not brain fart in its strictest sense. My brain was just so full of ideas that I couldn't ride through a train of thought long enough to finish.

It wasn't writer's block.  It was mental constipation!

Frustrated, I took several deep breaths and looked around me.  My room was as cluttered as my brain. A few more deep breaths, and  I shutdown my laptop with a single thought (for a change):  "Clear out the rubbish!"

God sends the perfect aid at just the right time.

This time it came in the wonderful form of a very random no-occasion gift from one of my girlfriends (God bless her!):  a compact manual paper shredder.

This magical shredder gave me the courage to finally work on  the piles of paper that I had been putting off to sort through.  My excuse:  "There are confidential stuff I will need to shred and I don't have a shredder."  Well ... TADA!

After clearing off a mountain of paper (there's another smaller mound of it I have to face some time soon), I got to sort through some clothes and bags as well.  I finished with a box and 3 big garbage bags of paper, clothes and bags for recycling and garage sale/donation.

Amidst all these, a twin soul reminded me, "If you want to find peace, fix your things." I couldn't agree more.  Reasonably uncluttered, my brain unclogged and I conquered some brain farts, which translated into a few rough-on-the-edges-but-tolerably-acceptable literary works.

Glorious release, finally!

Happy Meetings: Quirky Oldies

Couple Goals

During my last business trip to the US, my friend and I grabbed the opportunity to visit the Grand Canyon. It was in that tour that we encountered two pairs of quirky and extremely opposite couples.

The first pair was an old Vietnamese couple who reminded us of Carl and Ellie from the movie "Up".  They looked every bit prepared to go on this trip, dressed in comfortable clothes with matching safari hats.  They each carried an iPhone and iPad and were looking really tech savvy, typing away on their gadgets all the time.  It warmed our hearts how they were so thoughtful and caring to each other.  They allowed the other some time to enjoy the sights at their own pace, lost in their own bubble, yet always aware of the rest of the group.  That is how they noticed me and my friend and decided to adopt us as their grandchildren for the trip.  We were more than happy to oblige.  They barely spoke a word of English, though.  But we enjoyed spending time with them, nonetheless.

The second couple was an old American and his Chinese wife.  This couple seemed the total opposite of the quiet and gentle Vietnamese couple.  At first, they seemed like grumpy old people with their brows perpetually furrowed and arguing about every single thing.  But then she "pestered" the driver to find her husband a better seat because he had a bad back and the long drive was becoming a torture for him.  And he carefully stood up, while the bus was moving, to walk towards the back of the bus to give her the other half of his sandwich ... because she might be hungry.

Different folks, different strokes.  I guess, whatever works for them. Just goes to show there's no one "fits all" formula to a long-lasting marriage.  But there is one vital ingredient:  Love - the verb, not the noun.  Most of what they did was an act of love for the other.  Or, perhaps, everything they did for the other was done in their own unique brand of "lovingly".  Either way, they are our couple goals.


Coolly Lit

During my flight to the US, I had the pleasure of sitting beside a really cool old lady.  She was a retired Literature teacher.  A Literature teacher! We had an amazing time talking about various topics, including our favorite literature pieces.  It was no surprise that we were both Jane Austen fans, and we talked about the characters we relate most with like two old high-school friends.  We then progressed to Robin Williams' "Dead Poets Society".  Then I told her about Neil Gaiman's "Instructions" and Haruki Murakami's surreal but accessible style.  Suffice it to say that I had one of my most stimulating conversations during a long-haul flight.

I realized, working on your passions and talking about them is one of the most underrated "secrets" of eternal youth. The minute she started talking about Literature, she lit up and looked easily 10 years younger.

Poetic Doses: Pinto Series

Peek-a-boo

Mornings used to open

A flutter of nervous excitement;

She used to watch

And wait;

But they all passed her by

Barely a glance;

Once or twice

Someone stopped;

But only for a heartbeat

Never a lifetime;

She stood against the white

Hands over her face;

She grew paler

More invisible by the day;

Then

There he was;

She counted

One, two, three ... ;

She breathed

Peered through her fingers:

"What are you doing?"

He said;

"Watching you 

watching me";

He smiled

So did she.

(Art:  Borlongan)

(Art:  Stephanie Lopez)

Oblivious

(When I first saw this sculpture, I thought it was the man who was oblivious.  But, as I looked closer at the detail, I noticed that the man's hand was upon his open chest - which was difficult to capture due to the glare.)

She walks as though willing herself to be invisible;

And yet she carries the sun in her smile.

(My heart is heavy;

How could this be, when this is happy news?)

Her touch soothes and her voice calms;

Nothing can faze me, when she is by my side.

(There he is; My heart lifts 

and crumbles in a single moment)

Nothing, until ...

She waves proudly the diamond upon her finger.

(Life waits for no one;

So stop waiting)

She carries the sun in her smile;

Her touch soothes and her voice calms;

And I

I never told her

(Steady now, my unsettled nerves;

Love, afterall, is letting go)

I breathe her in, one last time; Holding on to her, 

I smile, as my world falls apart.

(Yet I melt into his oblivious embrace;

Just one more moment; for one last time).

(Art:  Mark Justiniani)

Some people just feel like home;

Those people with whom

Time & Distance are of no consequence.

Whole, yet caged;

Or disintegrating, but free?

Sometimes

To be truly whole

Is to fade into everything.

(Steel art from Pinto Art Museum)

(Art from Pinto Art Museum)

Tell The Children

Tell the children of clear blue skies;

of cloud art, sometimes wispy, sometimes cottony;

Tell the children of  playful rain,

and the joy of dancing in it with friends;

Tell the children of  the grand mountains,

their quiet and steadfast strength;

Tell the children of the army of trees,

and their fight to keep us breathing;

Tell the children of the temperamental seas,

that, nevertheless, give so generously;

And tell the children of Noah's animals,

big or small, gentle or fearsome, all part of the circle of life.

But, most of all,

Tell the children of Men;

of their capacity 

to give and take,

to build and destroy,

to love, to hate or be indifferent.

Tell the children who they are:

The heirs of this world;

Tell them of their power

and the urgency

to protect their only heritage

NOW.