Imagine someone asking...

''What is the best advice you'd give yourself today?"

• I'd start by saying be fearless but be discreet.
• Respect yourself and teach others how to treat you.
• Know yourself, be confident in your abilities but don't be arrogant.
• Accept your weaknesses knowing that this is where you start growing.
• Believe in the possibility of everything, yes everything, truth really is stranger than fiction. 
• Belive in God, Allah, Buddha, doesn't metter, what matters is you have faith.
• Give yourself permission to make mistakes. I say, it is always easier to live with your mistakes than with your regrets.
• Go crazy but don't lose yourself.
• Express your amazement and appreciation, especially for the little things.
• Be honest about how you feel but don't be mean or hurtful.
• Find out what makes you happy, it could be watching a play, holding someone's hand or singing to yourself.
• Don't care too much about what others think or their judgement will be the basis on which you live your life.
• Make plans but know how to be flexible.
• Laugh aloud, smile often and live with abandon. 
• Be adventurous and try new things, especially if they terrify you, but never be careless with your life, other people are not lucky enough to have the chances you have.
• Be thankful and show your gratitude to God, to your loved ones, to the people around you. Some of them you will never meet again so why waste opportunity?
• Know how to be alone and to enjoy your own company so you won't have to spend time with people you don't like. As the cliche goes, "it's better to be alone for the right reasons than to be with someone for the wrong ones."
• Love yourself. Enough said.

There was so much innocence there...

...that I couldn't help but be charmed. The film was called "Purok 7". It was the story of 2 siblings left by their parents to fend for themselves: the mother, to try her luck as an ofw, and the father, to start a new family. It goes on to show how these kids are able to support themselves and thrive. It shows a community which nurtures and protects them in every little way that counts.

I love that the kids, even at their young age, were not dependent on handouts, but rather, do their best to be self-sufficient. They offer to do odd-jobs, sell frogs they catch, and generally pick off the land. In their tightly-woven, small town community of well-meaning neighbors, you can't help but envy them the simplicity of provincial life, in particular, the honest care and strong loyalty so freely and generously given and gratefully received. You realize then how the kids are able to grow up with none of the self-pitying and the self-entitled attitude of those who expect to receive help because they were born poor. Amid the difficulties that these kids face on a day-to-day basis, there was still a refreshing innocence about them that allow them to appreciate the little joys and simple pleasures to be had from their not so idyllic life, and to hope for and believe in a future they've been promised. 

Of the many things I appreciated about the movie, one of the most important was that they downplayed the drama. Oh, the emotions were definitely there, but it wasn't all there was.  You see them struggle with some inner conflict: loyalty to their mother who was working in a distant land and the longing for security and to be accepted in their father's new family. They also ably demonstrated the strong bond that the siblings developed from learning to be each other's support system. Even the lighter emotions were clearly felt: the joyful victory of winning something from the town fiesta, the excitement of going to the "perya" for the first time, and of course who could ignore, the sweetly portrayed budding of a first crush.

All in all, there was a charming honesty and a refreshing lightness to the film that gave it a believable reality. We should all be so lucky to have memories such as these to look back on, being temporarily orphaned notwithstanding. It’s a film I would watch again and again, if only to recapture or maybe borrow for a time, some of that innocence.

So I sit alone...

...in the dark listening to music I recently discovered, while trying to put my thoughts to words. There's something to be said about being alone and having some time to gather my thoughts. I sometimes feel that there's so much noise around me, ideas jump from every corner and opinions that are not ashamed of being heard that I cannot hear myself think. It stifles me and I feel like if I don't let the thoughts go, I will burst.

But I like the mess.  I love the chaos.  I enjoy the noise. And I love the satisfaction that comes after those moments of panic pass. I like how dynamic this environment has become, how people share ideas and thoughts and want to hear the same from others. I love when ideas start to take shape and form and come to life. I love the whole process of creating and creativity. There's something satisfying about breathing life to a random idea and putting them together with the ideas of other creative minds.

But a seed needs the quiet of dark before it can develop, take root and grow. So I germinate.

A couple...

of window washers were hanging from the 19th floor of a 20-storey hotel close to my office. I was on my way to buy lunch when this sight caught my attention. Forgetting about lunch, I sat and waited for them to either be pulled up or rappel down from their height. What I found funny was that for almost the entire hour that I was there watching them, they never moved, not up nor down, nor to the next window. They just hung there, perfectly content and perfectly at ease. And I watched them, perfectly fascinated.


I wondered what else besides economics would interest or compel someone to take up that kind of work. To spend almost the entire day, moving from square to square, washing away the dust and the dirt from outside the window of an entire building, only to start again one you've reached the last one. And this wasn't even a remarkably high building. Imagine doing this to those gravity-defying high rises.


I wondered mostly at the stories they can tell, the sights they've seen, and the lives they've gotten glimpses of. Do they feel a thrill every time they hoist themselves up there at the start of the workday? Do they bother to turn around just to appreciate the view around them? Is there a sense of excitement that mounts as they move up from level to level? 


I'd like to give it a try just to answer these questions. Wouldn't that be...?

"Looking back in time...

...which year would you have wanted to last twice as long?" is the question I have been considering for more than a couple of weeks now. It's not that I don't know, because I do. I've said it before and I think I will keep saying it to anyone who cares to listen, I love the life I've lead and continue to live. I know adventure is always just round the bend should I have the need for it. And I'm happy that there were so many years that stand out in terms of learnings, experiences, and people I've met. But without looking too hard, there is always that one year that jumps out among the rest and playfully invites me to look back and reminisce. And irresistibly, I find myself drawn in, enraptured again by the memories of the many mishaps, misadventures and discoveries of that one single year. I guess I was taking my time because although the simple answer itself is easy, the whys and wherefores will take some explaining. So where to start?

Some time in August of 2008, I found myself on a plane to Guilin, by way of Hong Kong, little knowing what awaited me when I landed. I knew some of what to expect since we spent a large chunk of that year preparing for that period, but expectations are a dangerous thing and more often, are hardly ever met. We landed late in the evening since our flight was delayed several hours due to a storm in the region, and were met by our driver who spoke nary a word of English. Hardly what I'd call an auspicious beginning.

Morning came and we were given a tour of Yangshuo's West street by our very considerate boss. He took us to a lunch of bāozi and drove us around town, pointing out places of interest. And thus began our introduction to a town, a lifestyle, and a people we came to love. And there, our more than a year-long roller coaster ride of challenges, adventures, and discoveries started to take shape.

My sister and I went there to teach English but it was an education for us as well. Along the way, we've built friendships, enriched our lives and grew up in ways we couldn't have done living the comfortable lives we had back home. We've travelled to so many places, met so many people and gone on so many adventures that it's hard to believe we were there barely a year and a half. We've learned how very little we need in order to survive. We learned that building bonds of friendship does not always require years to establish. And we learned that at best, people are still kind and can be trusted, at worst, you have to follow your instincts. 

A friend, who shared the same experience, told me after going back to her real life that she sometimes had to remind herself that it happened. That the place, the people, and that way of life was real, and that it was a life she actually lived for a time. I didn't quite understand her then, but now I understand exactly what she meant and how she felt. There was something surreal about the entire experience that makes you question fact from fiction. It was, quite simply, a different world. I know people would question that statement as too much romanticizing and maybe they would be right. But there was a simplicity, a freedom even and an excitement in that world that I have never experienced before or since then, so allow me my romanticizing.

It wasn't all fun and excitement. There were challenges and difficulties for sure, no grand adventure is ever without some. There were times when I wanted to pack my bags and go home, and there were days when I questioned the wisdom of leaving home and going to a place that was totally foreign from everything I'm used to. But there were also those amazing days when I was so grateful for whatever whimsy that pushed me to go and take that risk while questioning why I waited so long to do it. In the end, I stayed and braved it and I will always be glad I did.

Looking back, I sometimes wonder at the adventurous spirit that allowed me to take that first step of leaving a well-paying job and a comfortable lifestyle to venture to parts unknown. I ask myself what it was in that particular time of my life that led me in search of that kind of excitement. And I wonder if I would do it again. I haven't really found the answer to the first 2 questions, but I know that I would do it again. Over and over and over again.
   

There are people...

...whose inner glow is so bright such that just being near them makes you feel the same glow. Whose passion is so contagious that they fire your own passion, too. Whose joy is so vibrant that a simple smile in your direction brings out your own inner light. Whose wonder and pleasure are so real that in that instant, they make you believe, too. Whose peace is so encompassing that being in their presence makes you feel a stillness in your own soul. 

There is of course the opposite. Those whose energy seem to suck out the life in an entire room. Whose presence renders one dumb and senseless, but not in admiration and awe. Who belittles with just a look. Whose carelessly issued words snuff out the light of your dreams. Who communicates contempt with their silence until you are left with nothing but doubt.

There is a third and more insidious group. Those who remain unmoved despite what they see. Those who would have themselves believe that they are above the tumult and the difficulties. Who choose to feel nothing and do nothing. Those who would have you question what the point is to all this life.

They are all of them real. All of them yield equal power. But they are not the only ones. There is sadly a greater majority of those who simply follow. It might seem like the choice is easy, but it hardly ever is. Not one of us is ever as we seem, for we all wear our mask well.  

It's not always easy...

...coming up with new ideas. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to think, the words just don't come. So I stop thinking too hard.

========== 

From where I am sitting, I have a perfect view of the skyline. Never mind that it's marred by tall electrical poles, or wires that criss-cross along the sides. The skies are blue and the clouds are a fluffy white. It looks like the perfect day to be outdoors: having a picnic, lying on the grass, or flying a kite maybe. And then the clouds start to thicken and just like that, my view of a perfectly sunny day changes. 

==========

I am at loose ends right now. So much time to waste, not enough to do. I can't say that about most days so this is a luxury I will savor. I'm pretty sure it will be over before I know it so I will try to enjoy  every minute.

==========

I don't mind my own company. In fact, In some cases, I enjoy it. I talk to myself. I wonder and laugh aloud about things on my own. It gets funny when I do it around other people though. They stare. But I've become quite good at ignoring them and I've come to accept that their opinions are not my problem.

===========

I guess I'm a loner. I know I'd rather be alone than be thrust into a social situation, where I feel out of my depth and element, and end up saying something totally inane and senseless, that I will end up mulling over and regretting for hours and days to come. Sometimes, I do feel so socially inept that it seems better to stay locked up in my corner than to subject other people to my ineptitude. So I either limit my interactions or keep my mouth shut. Some people perceive it as aloofness, to me it's self preservation.

I was stumped....

 ...by a question a friend asked over coffee last Saturday. She asked, "What were your top 3 blessing for the past year?" It wasn't an overly difficult question. I can actually imagine friends raising their hands, jumping up and down, and shouting "me! me! me!", in their bid to answer that question. But there I was, stumped. I couldn't think of a thing to say. It wasn't that it was a bad year, far from it. In fact, it was a year when I came to terms with a lot of things about myself. So in a way, it was  a year littered with blessings.

I guess the 'top3' part was where I got stuck. I was looking at the year and tried to look at the big stuff, the amazing stuff, the unbelievable stuff that wowed people into silence. There was none that I could remember. I remember trips with friends that I found rejuvenating. I remember quality time with family that made me happy. And I remember quiet moments that made me think. So I thought about it and listened to their stories of renewed relationships, lives of service and fresh discoveries, as I thought about my relatively drama-free and uneventful year.

I am not, nor have I ever been overly-competitive. I'm no under-achiever either. I've had quite a number of victories in my life that gave me confidence and failures that turned out to be good things. But at that moment, as I sat there, I was thinking that maybe I don't ask enough of myself. Maybe I don't have enough focus. Maybe I should have better direction. Maybe I should start setting bigger goals for myself. Bigger than the next trip or the next holiday. But then I realized, I'm not that person.

I am ambitious, but in a different way. I find pleasure in simple things, but I am also amazed at the great ones. Spending time alone gives me peace, but being surrounded by family and close friends bring me joy. Going on short trips rejuvenate me, but planning long vacations gives me a thrill. This is the way I am. I thrive on the simple joys and amazing discoveries. They don't always match each other in number, but they are always present whether I choose to remember them or not. So this is what I resolved, I will make a list, a cheat sheet if you will. I will write highlights for each month so that when I get asked the question again, I can confidently raise my hand and say "me! me! me!"

    

There is a small brown card...

on my desk that asks, "What images come to mind when you are asked about your childhood?" A little over a decade ago, I wrote a sort of answer to this question. The question now is, would I answer the same way now? Do I feel the same way now that I felt those many moons ago? There's a question.

This is part of what I wrote then: "I remember having to ask permission to go to the beach even it was just across the street from the house. I remember going around my grandparents' property with my cousins, in search of hidden treasures. I remember falling into the knee-deep fish pond while crossing a make-shift bridge. I remember ice creams in cones and dry ice being thrown into the pond so we kids could watch it dancing in the water. I remember puppet shows and singing accompanied by my cousins playing their guitars. I remember power shortages when the older cousins would catch fireflies from the numerous trees and put them in bottles to use as light while we did all sorts of crazy things to entertain ourselves. I remember big trees lit by fireflies like Christmas lights at night. I remember chasing after hermit crabs on the beach. I remember my uncles and male cousins wading in the pond to catch fish and then throwing it towards the “island” for us to pick up and put in buckets. I remember a host of other things that are too many to put down. I remember loving every minute of it all. And I remember crying when it was all over and the time had come for us to go back to home to Manila."

Here's more of what I remember: I remember putting on impromptu talent shows with my cousins, where our parents would try to pit us against each other. I remember a poem that we all had to memorize and recite as a rite of passage because my grandfather wrote it. And later as teenagers and young adults, I remember locking all the doors and windows of my grandparents living room so no one could enter while we watched an old home video of our childhood display of talent. I remember the embarassment we all felt as we all saw ourselves taking the stage and innocently showing off how good we were at whatever talent our parents told us we had. I especially remember the teasing, the ribbing, and the loud laughter that followed us almost into sunrise and the vow never to show the video to anyone else. 

Looking back at my childhood, I find myself happy with the images I conjure. There are so many memories to look back on. And reading through the memories I wrote down still makes me feel the same twinge of bittersweetness, the same poignancy, the same whimsy. Maybe I don't quite see them with the same vividness, but the emotions remain. Many of the things I see, hear and experience now serve to remind me of them and make me grateful. It truly was a special time and I will always be thankful that I was blessed with a wonderful childhood that made such joyful memories.

It made me cringe...

...to read some of the stuff that I wrote more than a decade or so ago. I was very happy that I was alone when I read them and kind of glad that a lot of them have been lost. It does lessen the embarssment some. But knowing that I have purposely sent some of them to family and friends...oh well, I can always blame it all on my youth.

But then I read some anecdotes I wrote from just a few years back of my life in China and I realized that in my writing at least, I haven't matured quite as much as I thought. lol! It was, to say the least, humbling. I think now that I have a lot to learn and a long way to go. That means I have to keep busy and keep writing as much as I can.

I'm excited to be doing it at this time. For want of a new hobby, I've come back to something that I love and enjoyed doing in the past. As I said, I have always been a big believer in words and how it reaches and influences people. I want to get to that point where what I have to say actually has value and in some way affect, well not a huge number of people (though anything is possible), but someone. But maybe in the end, it will only have changed me. And that's not a bad idea at all.

When I was younger...

...I used to enjoy writing. I would write about stupid things. I would romanticize places. I would create imagined realities. I can't go back to that time, but I can go back to that habit. I still love to imagine, I still spend time in daydreams and I would still like to try to make real what isn't.

I have always believed in the power of words. I have always loved the power of words. I would like to learn to wield that power. And so this blog came to be. This is for me. Let this be my rehearsal studio, my idea board, and practice hall rolled into one. I will not always like what I write. I won't always find the right words. But I will always make it a point to try. Let the words take over and see where it leads.

I've never really been...

...good at sharing. My ideas. My dreams. My thoughts. My plans. What I think. How I feel. These are mine and I just never liked to share. Not really and hardly at all. I like what's mine to be mine. Sometimes it makes me feel bad, knowing this. But sometimes, I think it's my due. It doesn't make it right, but it is the truth. I feel like when I share what is mine, it stops being mine and I no longer wish to own it. I know that means I'm selfish. But does that make me a bad person?

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


In a world that has taught us the constancy of change, I refuse to learn, so I cling to what I hope is mine. I cling to a past that is no longer there. I cling to dream that is no longer possible. I cling to a reality that barely exists.