The Walk in the Park

We take a walk tonight in this new park in the city, the newly manicured lawn and the Christmas lights hanging from the tree branches the perfect backdrop to our story—a common story, a cliché actually, of unexpressed emotions and an understanding unspoken of, the December breeze gently blowing a reluctant witness to the plot unfolding between us.

I often wondered as a child why there are fireworks in the sky when couples kiss in a movie as if love is enough to banish the darkness of the night. If I kiss you tonight, could we brighten the heavens, too?

You refuse to hold my hand. Your eyes speak the words your lips refuse to say. You try to hide the suffering and a kiss won’t be enough to banish it. You have loved and failed, loved and failed, and scars remain.

So, here we are, standing at the bus station, waiting. I try to hold your hand, to touch you to ease your pain. Yet, you refuse again. I kiss you on the lips, your scars remain. A kiss won’t be enough to banish them.

My bus arrives. Should I stay or should I go? I turn to you and smile, and you say goodbye.

Bridget’s Story

I look at your big, round, dark eyes
And sometimes wonder if they could ever reflect
The void inside you,
The battles never won,
And the battles you choose to walk away from.

Your big smile would dupe us,
It could betray the anguish in your heart,
But your silence never lies
And the tears you cry a reticent testimony
To the rage you suppress inside.

The walls between us hear the sound of your silence
And the ambivalence festooned in your mind—
To cry or not to cry, to surrender or fight—
As palpable as the fine hair on your head.

I once, twice, said you are pretty.
You laughed out loud
But what I heard was a hollow sound
Like random beatings of the drum—
Discordant.
For out of the overflow of the heart,
The mouth speaks not only with words
But also with the melody of laughter, or wailing
When you are rejoicing, or weeping.

If only the walls between us could speak,
They would tell of the shadows lurking in your mind,
Of the music playing in your heart,
But they are but that—
Walls.
So, I just look at your eyes,
And listen to your silence
And tears.

Thanksgiving (yes!) and Resolutions (not!)

From Ian Casocot’s site: I have only one, perfectly doable resolution for the coming New Year: that I will be able to appreciate more and more the things that I am capable of and passionate about -- writing, designing, teaching, among other things -- and learn to value my place in this world. It's the first step to a happy life.

I was inspired by this that I thought back to 2009 and what a year it has been! Here are excerpts from my journal:

1. I am thankful for 2009. Most of this year had been a dizzying emotional ride filled with false expectations and imagined hopes. I had held on to things that I shouldn’t have held on to. I had found myself having difficulty letting go of people that I should have let go of the moment they said goodbye.

I had often found myself asking God if I had made the right decisions in the past—the schools I went to and the courses I took up. I had asked God many times if I am where I am supposed to be (and He always answered “yes!”).

One day, I just stopped hoping falsely and let go. I forgave and moved on.

2. I don’t know how and when exactly it happened (or when the process started) but I’m better now. I have a better view of myself, of who and what I am and can and cannot do. No more striving to be who I am not.

And while I have become more self-aware, I have also started to explore the things that I may be capable of. I had toyed with the idea of taking up guitar and baking lessons but later realized that these are not my forte. I took up writing lessons instead. I am now thinking whether to take up drawing/painting lessons. I am now more discerning of the things that I should and shouldn’t do. I don’t want to waste money and time on something that I am not enabled to do. We have different gifts and that’s what we should be able to discern.

I just want to be the best of whatever I am and can be—be the best business development manager and the best writer that I can be and whatever other role God gives me.

I have a better view of my purpose in life and the legacy that I want to build and leave.

3. Thank you, God. Thank you for 2009 and the lessons it brought. Thank you for not letting me go. Thank you because you are now so tangible in my life—in every area of it. Thank you for your countless assurances and thank you for your faithfulness! Thank you for breaking and molding me.

Thank you because in spite of my imperfections, you brought people to me whom I was able to inspire and encourage. Thank you for the wisdom and the words. Indeed, he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.

I am at peace and ready to be sent to wherever God asks me to go. Ibang klase magbigay ng adventure si God, masaya na mahirap pero palaging panalo! Because He is always with us wherever we go. Saan ka pa?! I have tasted and seen that the Lord is good so why should I rely on things or relationships that are otherwise fleeting?

Thank you for the discernment of right from wrong and the courage to stand for what’s right. Thank you for making me go through the refiner’s fire because I wouldn’t be who and where I am right now if not for that. Hindsight is indeed 20/20, as Celine Lopez said. When God does something, walang trumpets or big bang pero palaging maganda ang kinakalabasan!

4. So what’s for 2010? Just to be the best that God intended me to be; to be prepared to go where I am called to go; to know and enrich myself more; to appreciate what I have; to dream more and act on those dreams with discernment; to build a more intimate relationship with God and seek His will for my life; to run the race that is set before me and finish it in victory with my integrity intact.

Welcome, 2010!

I Want More Stretchmarks!

Are you like the Steinway Piano
BUSINESS MATTERS (BEYOND THE BOTTOM LINE)
By Francis J. Kong (The Philippine Star)
Updated October 17, 2009 12:00 AM
www.philstar.com

Os Hillman talks about his experience and observation in visiting the manufacturing plant of the world famous Steinway Piano. Oss says:

“My business career has been as an owner of an advertising agency. Over the years, I have had the privilege to work on many different and prestigious accounts. One of those accounts was Steinway Pianos, the maker of the world’s finest pianos. Each piano has always been made from scratch; it takes over a year to make one Steinway. The most impressive scene as I toured the manufacturing plant was the place where the soundboard is stretched to its maximum tolerance and allowed to sit for an extended period until it remains in the curved design. This was done in an off-to-the-corner part of the plant. If the wood were alive, it would be crying out for mercy.

After an extended time of stretching, the wood will never spring back to its original state. It is permanently changed. The piano is becoming a fine-tuned instrument. After this process takes place, the next step requires another point of stress. It takes 11 tons of pressure on a piano to tune it. Each step in the process moves the piano closer to a finished product that will ultimately be played by the world’s finest musicians. These musicians desire a particular sound that only a piano like this can make.

God looks at each of us as a fine-tuned instrument. However, we begin as rough wood that He desires to transform into gold. Tuning us requires certain experiences that will stretch our faith, our frame, and our very life. Sainthood springs out of suffering. If we can stand the strain of this intense process, we will come forth as gold-as a sweet-smelling offering to our Maker. When we are in the midst of these times, it feels like fire. It is painful to be stretched beyond our perceived limits, but the Lord knows this is necessary for us to become an instrument that can play a beautiful song that others will seek after. Let the master Craftsman have His way in your life today. You will be pleased with the instrument He fashions.”

And the verse of Scripture he uses is: Zechariah 13:9 “...I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on My name and I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are My people,’ and they will say, ‘The Lord is our God.’”

The difference between winners and losers is persistence and perseverance. Stretch yourself. You will never realize your deep skills and talents until you are willing to face bigger challenges and situations.
Malcolm Gladwell says his studies reveal that all the masters of their craft put it at least 10,000 hours of work. They sure did stretch themselves for a long time. They grow in it and they improve at it. You have the capacity to be like the Steinway Piano if you would simply stretch yourself.

William James says: “Most people never run far enough on their first wind to find out they’ve got a second. Give your dreams all you’ve got and you’ll be amazed at the energy that comes out of you.” Entrepreneur and writer Paul J. Meyer says: “Ninety percent of those who fail are not actually defeated. They simply quit.” King Saul thought Goliath was too big to fight; David thought he was too big to miss.

The question now is, do you have stretch marks all over you by now? If not then go and get some more.

Why You Shouldn't Believe Everything an MBA Tells You

The True Meaning of Life

A boat docked in a tiny Goan village. A tourist from Mumbai (Mumbaite) complimented the Goan fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

"Not very long," answered the fisherman.

"But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the Mumbaite.

The Goan fisherman explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.

The Mumbaite asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

"I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, play guitar, sing a few songs... I have a full life."

The Mumbaite interrupted, "I have an MBA from IIM-A, and I can help you! You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat."

"And after that?" asked the Goan.

"With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers. Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can then negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Panjim, or even Mumbai. From there you can direct your huge new enterprise."

"How long would that take?" asked the Goan.

"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied the Mumbaite.

"And after that?"

"Afterwards? Well my Friend, that's when it gets really interesting," chuckled the Mumbaite, "When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!"

"Millions? Really? And after that?" asked the Goan.

"After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, Sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta with your wife and spend your evenings doing what you like with your buddies."

"With all due respect sir, but that's exactly what I am doing now. So what's the point wasting 25 Years?" asked the Goan. And the moral of the story is? Know where you're going in life. You may already be there.

Life in the present world is indeed a rat race. Many who have good qualifications too do not know where they are going in life.

Don't be a Duck, Be an Eagle

(Excerpt from The Simple Truths of Service)

No one can make you serve customers well. That’s because great service is a choice. Years ago, my friend, Harvey Mackay, told me a wonderful story about a cab driver that proved this point. He was waiting in line for a ride at the airport. When a cab pulled up, the first thing Harvey noticed was that the taxi was polished to a bright shine. Smartly dressed in a white shirt, black tie, and freshly pressed black slacks, the cab driver jumped out and rounded the car to open the back passenger door for Harvey. He handed my friend a laminated card and said:

“I’m Wally, your driver. While I’m loading your bags in the trunk I’d like you to read my mission statement.”

Taken aback, Harvey read the card. It said:

Wally’s Mission Statement:

To get my customers to their destination in the quickest, safest and cheapest way possible in a friendly environment.

This blew Harvey away. Especially when he noticed that the inside of the cab matched the outside. Spotlessly clean!

As he slid behind the wheel, Wally said, “Would you like a cup of coffee? I have a thermos of regular and one of decaf.”

My friend said jokingly, “No, I’d prefer a soft drink.”

Wally smiled and said, “No problem. I have a cooler up front with regular and Diet Coke, water and orange juice.”

Almost stuttering, Harvey said, “I’ll take a Diet Coke.”

Handing him his drink, Wally said, “If you’d like something to read, I have The Wall Street Journal, Time, Sports Illustrated and USA Today.”

As they were pulling away, Wally handed my friend another laminated card. “These are the stations I get and the music they play, if you’d like to listen to the radio.”

And as if that weren’t enough, Wally told Harvey that he had the air conditioning on and asked if the temperature was comfortable for him. Then he advised Harvey of the best route to his destination for that time of day. He also let him know that he’d be happy to chat and tell him about some of the sights or, if Harvey preferred, to leave him with his own thoughts.

“Tell me, Wally,” my amazed friend asked the driver, “have you always served customers like this?”

Wally smiled into the rearview mirror. “No, not always. In fact, it’s only been in the last two years. My first five years driving, I spent most of my time complaining like all the rest of the cabbies do. Then I heard the personal growth guru, Wayne Dyer, on the radio one day. He had just written a book called You’ll See It When You Believe It. Dyer said that if you get up in the morning expecting to have a bad day, you’ll rarely disappoint yourself. He said, ‘Stop complaining! Differentiate yourself from your competition. Don’t be a duck. Be an eagle. Ducks quack and complain. Eagles soar above the crowd.’”

“That hit me right between the eyes,” said Wally. “Dyer was really talking about me. I was always quacking and complaining, so I decided to change my attitude and become an eagle. I looked around at the other cabs and their drivers. The cabs were dirty, the drivers were unfriendly, and the customers were unhappy. So I decided to make some changes. I put in a few at a time. When my customers responded well, I did more.”

“I take it that has paid off for you,” Harvey said.

“It sure has,” Wally replied. “My first year as an eagle, I doubled my income from the previous year. This year I’ll probably quadruple it. You were lucky to get me today. I don’t sit at cabstands anymore. My customers call me for appointments on my cell phone or leave a message on my answering machine. If I can’t pick them up myself, I get a reliable cabbie friend to do it and I take a piece of the action.”

Wally was phenomenal. He was running a limo service out of a Yellow Cab. I’ve probably told that story to more than fifty cab drivers over the years, and only two took the idea and ran with it. Whenever I go to their cities, I give them a call. The rest of the drivers quacked like ducks and told me all the reasons they couldn’t do any of what I was suggesting.

Wally the Cab Driver made a different choice. He decided to stop quacking like ducks and start soaring like eagles. How about you?

Book List, Wish List

Antonio C., you asked what you could give me when you come home. Well, choose from the list :)

1. Systematic Theology by Wayne Grudem
2. Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl
3. Man's Search for Ultimate Meaning by Viktor Frankl
4. The Prince by Niccolo Macchiavelli
5. Zeno and the Tortoise by Nicholas Fearn
6. Philosophy by Nicholas Fearn
7. How To Be Your Best When You Feel Your Worst by Casey Treat
8. Seven Things That Steal Your Joy by Joyce Meyer

I am off to the bookstore...

Goodbye, Madame Cory

I was barely three years old when your husband died. I was barely seven years old when you took office. During your presidency, I was a grade school student whose only concerns were school, games with friends, and weekend outings with my family.

I actually had to review my history to know you more. Today, though, while listening to the radio, I realized that your legacy is not just your government that restored democracy in this country; it is not just the laws you passed during your term. Your legacy includes the lives you touched during your lifetime.

I heard enough testimonies about your humility, sincerity, and propriety as a leader. I hope our leaders learn from you. If only these past few days are a proof, you are one of those worthy to be called "a leader".

A Poem for the Eagle's Star

The rainy afternoon made me remember this poem. I wrote it in April this year and the edited version became part of the 28th edition (May) of the Poet's Picturebook--an ezine of photography, essays, and poems.


What the Rain Brings

The sky is downcast again today. At seven in the morning, a gray presence was looming over the city. There’s news of rain, of a storm actually…a storm in May, in summer. Isn’t it odd? Do you know that I remember you when it rains?

You crossed my mind when I looked at the gray sky today, when I stepped out of my house expecting to be greeted by the summer heat, but instead, there was the gloomy presence of the still air. Then, I caught myself: I have said goodbye, I should stop remembering you when it rains.

June is just within reach. I can already hear its sound—the start of the season of rain. I don’t want to think of you whenever it rains in June, or in July. I have said goodbye.

But, maybe, I need the rain. I need the rain not to remind me of you but to wash away every memory that I still have of you, to wash away even the littlest trace you still have in my mind and in my heart.

Today, I felt fear when I realized that the rain still reminds me of you. And I can’t go on feeling afraid of the rain just because it reminds me of you, because I need the rain, I have been asking for rain in this warm, sticky summer season. And the rain came, and the memories of you came…and I was afraid…but if the rain will wash you away from my being, then I will welcome it even more, even the monsoon season.

Filipino Matters: Dignity in Every Filipino

A book about things to be proud of as Filipinos: Filipino Pride. And to my friends from AIM, Prof. Julie Tanada is a contributor. Download the free light version of the book here:

http://filipinomatters.org/

Mga Tanong

1. Bakit malungkot ang nag-iisa o lahat ba ng nag-iisa ay malungkot?
2. Kapag masaya ako, green ang damo. Kapag malungkot ako, green pa rin ang damo. So, sino ba talaga ang may issue, ako o ang damo?

from a film presentation during VCF’s 25th anniversary concert

And my own:

Why do people end relationships only through text nowadays? Are the people who do this cowards? Or does it depend on how committed they once were to the relationship they are ending and the person they once were with?

A Note to Madame Cory

History has been kind to you. I hope our leaders realize that ultimately, history will be their best judge and not the applause during their SONAs or public speeches.

People are storming the heavens with prayers for your healing. How many of our leaders or who else among our leaders would be worthy of that if ever they get sick?

*****
I remember from my HBO class that leadership is a function of having followers. I wonder, are our leaders really worthy to be called leaders in this sense or are they just mere government officials without any follower at all?

A Quick Note to the Eagle's Star

KNOW THAT I AM STILL WAITING...

I missed you today.

It saddens me to think that we're back to square one.

Finding My Filipino-ness

In the midst of all the celebration of Pacquiao’s triumph over Hatton and my reflection on the book of Nehemiah, I suddenly felt glad and proud to be Filipino; not that I never was but I just never had the need to emphasize that I am a Filipino. My pride does not only come from the honor that Pacquiao and Lea Salonga and all the popular Filipinos all over the world have brought our country; my pride comes from knowing that I am a Filipino who can do something to uplift the life of others in my country. I am a Filipino, born and raised as one—not as some other race—because I can contribute to bringing back the glory that our country once had. I am a Filipino who can help make this world a better place one person at a time.

I never dreamt of migrating to another country and living there permanently and getting another citizenship. I have been disillusioned once—I had given up any hope for our political system and politicians—and had planned to leave the country but I always had the intention of coming back to help my country. But I realized that my citizenship should not be limited by my address. I can be in London, Boston, or Tondo and still be Filipino in mind and heart.

Ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country…The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life.--JFK

My being Filipino now is more than abiding by the traffic rules. It is more than using the pedestrian lane when crossing the street; it is more than following the traffic lights. It is more than paying the correct amount of taxes. It is more than having integrity as a worker. It is in seeing to it that a child who cannot afford to go to school gets the education he deserves. It is in seeing to it that a worker gets paid decently. It is in seeing to it that a family has their own source of livelihood. It is in seeing to it that a child never goes hungry. Yes, even one decent meal can make a difference.

My advocacies since I was a kid haven’t changed—I have always wanted to help in the areas of education especially for children, in providing livelihood for the poor, and in conserving the environment. I thank God for the constant reminder to reach out. And I thank God because I now have a better view of my sphere of influence and where and how exactly I can make a difference. Change starts with a person, with one small step, and it starts with me.

Let these be my legacy—to help even just one child go to school, to teach a family to fish, to feed street children. For I know how it feels to go to bed hungry. During 2008’s prayer and fasting, I once had to go to bed with a headache due to hunger. And that hunger and headache were something that I could have avoided by eating. I had a choice. But a lot of children do not, and I would like to give them that choice. Too bad that good education and good food have become a privilege for the few in this country. I hope to change that—one kid, one person, one family at a time. Let me correct that…I am now walking in faith that I can change that because I have been doing things to change that because in 2009’s prayer and fasting, I was challenged to do something more concrete--to act on my desire to help for my fasting would have gone to waste if all I had was a desire, a vision with no action.

Is this the kind of fast I have chosen, only a day for a man to humble himself? Is it only for bowing one's head like a reed and for lying on sackcloth and ashes? Is that what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD? Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?—Isaiah 58:5-7

I continue to be moved by the sight of hungry children on TV. I passed by the Quirino Grandstand last June 14th and saw the long lines of people participating in the government’s employment program under the grueling heat of the sun. I was moved to the point of tears that I prayed for them to find a job. We will have a presidential election next year. I have been praying for discernment on who to vote for and for these aspirants to have the genuine concern for our country and not just the selfish desire for power. With the prayers comes the desire to be shown how to help better the lives of people.

All this will not be finished in the first 100 days. Nor will it be finished in the first 1,000 days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.--JFK

I may not see the Philippines back in its former glory in my lifetime. It will not take just one government or one administration but I am standing in faith that my efforts to help my country will make a difference however small it may be.

An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.—Martin Luther King, Jr.

Packing Bags, Uncovering Memories

I called the one I was supposed to surprise with the apartment “my star” but I realized that you are the original star, the one whose light has never gone out. Yes, you have always been there…you stayed at the side lines after we had parted ways while I found a new star whose light later dimmed.

*****

At the very center of my bed right now is a red box with a diamond ring. “Wear it to our dinner on Saturday and I will follow you to London,” you said when you brought the ring to my apartment a week after you had learned about my plans to leave the country. You must have sensed my confusion because you added, “It’s not an engagement ring.” So what is it exactly? Just some sign you need from me for you to leave everything behind and be with me in London? Yes, you said.

It is Friday. Tomorrow, we go out to have dinner. I have been trying to ignore that red box. I have been delaying having to make a decision—do I want you back in my life? Do I want you with me in London? I still have so many things to do—turnover at work, send-off parties to attend, bills to settle, and independent films to see. I still have to pack so many things. I still have to sort which of my stuff to take with me to London and which to store at my parents’ house. I have been trying to ignore that red box. I have been trying to push the thoughts of you away from my mind. But as I pack my bags, as I gather all the things I have brought into this apartment for sorting, I realize that you are in almost all of them, that almost every nook and cranny of this apartment has some memory of you in it.

You were not the reason I got this apartment. You knew it was supposed to be for someone. After we had parted ways, I met someone and the apartment was supposed to be a surprise for him. But things happened and plans changed. Still, I kept the house. It was here that I healed myself and picked myself up. Or better, it was here where you picked me up from the mess that I had become and helped me be whole again.

The apartment was as plain as it could be with its dark wood and off-white motif. Plain and lifeless as was my life after I had parted ways with the person I was supposed to surprise with the apartment. Then, you started putting color into it as you started putting color back into my life…as a friend, as you put it.

You had gifted me with a 32-inch flat screen TV with cable subscription so I could have something to entertain me…though you had known I didn’t watch TV a lot. I still don’t. You had said you couldn’t imagine me staring out into space and crying my eyes out every time I would be home alone. Later, you admitted that you had gotten the TV because you had nothing else to do while waiting for me to get home from work. And I didn’t want you to pick me up from work, anyway. I had given you the key to my house because you would always come over anyway and I hated the thought that you would always have to wait somewhere else while I was at work. A week after I had given you the key, I woke up to the smell of ham and cheese omelet coming from my kitchen. Yes, you just prepared a “real” breakfast for me—with bread, juice, coffee, and fruits—and not just some microwaved food from the convenience store across the street.

I am now staring at a rack of McCormick spices. I still don’t know which to use for soups, steaks, and fish but with your sophisticated taste in food, you were always able to identify what was in your food even with your eyes closed. With you, I always had restaurant-grade meals at home. I sometimes complained at my lack of culinary skills “but you could bake,” you said. And I shot back, “but I couldn’t be eating brownies all the time!” And you laughed. My kitchen is the way it is now because of you. I was content with a microwave and a convection oven for baking but you added the stove and the pots and the pans. You would use those to cook for me, you said.

When I got home one weekend, I was surprised by the Malang painting in my receiving room, and on to my bathroom was a blue shower curtain and yellow towels. You knew my colors. I thought that your being an architect benefited me. Yes, I had this little thought that you might be gay but I knew otherwise.

I called the one I was supposed to surprise with the apartment “my star” but I realized that you are the original star, the one whose light has never gone out. Yes, you have always been there…you stayed at the side lines after we had parted ways while I found a new star whose light later dimmed.

I am sitting here on the sofa bed that I bought for you. At my lowest point after my star’s light had dimmed, you decided that you would sleep over as often as you could…just to keep me company. You saw me crying myself to sleep. You saw me waking up at 3 a.m. crying. You saw me walking around my apartment mumbling questions I would have asked the star whose light had dimmed. From here on the sofa bed I am sitting on right now, you saw me make a fool of myself. From this sofa bed, you reached out your hand to me and you helped me slowly make myself whole again.

I had this fear that there might be something in the sleepovers, in the meals together, in your cooking for me. And I wasn’t ready for whatever it was. Not so soon. It wasn’t fair for you. I was still healing. Yes, I was whole but the scars had yet to heal. The seams had yet to disappear. So, I asked for my key back.

I am walking back to my bedroom to get the red box with a diamond ring in it. I have a decision to make.

Cinemalaya Cinco: In Support of Philippine Independent Films, In Support of P

"Manila" was the movie that opened the 2009 Cinemalaya Independent Film Festival at the CCP yesterday. Don't watch it if you are into happy endings. It's a dark, raw movie.

2009 Cinemalaya schedule here: www.cinemalaya.org

Some pictures:

The Day I Say Goodbye to P

Goodbye, P. I am letting you go. I cannot stand always having to fight for your time—you are always busy, busy, busy. I tried to understand you, your work and its demands on you but it has come to be too much to bear. You have only one word to answer my questions about how you are—BUSY! I make plans to be with you even for just a simple movie…oh, right…nothing is simple in your life…everything is complicated.

I cannot take the intrigues anymore. Maybe because I am not from show business. So, goodbye. Good luck na lang kay KC.

*****
Found someone new. He’s 50ish. Uh oh, not again!!! He’s smart, funny, and artistic. Yes, he’s an art patron and he supports a lot of art organizations in the country. And he’s my brother’s big boss. Syempre, joke joke lang naman ito. *winks* (lest I get sermons again from BBB).

Reactions and Reflections

Someone reacted to my blog “Let’s Talk”:

I understand what you say... I always felt that the days when I had
less money were more fun…

I think it’s money that drives as all apart. The more money we make,
the more we become justifiable and while we may call it
responsibilities... it’s more like we have to sweat for the money that
we are being paid. And since we are all conscionable people, we work
harder and longer and therefore neglect the people who mean the most
in our lives…

Yea... I thought I shall email you later but since that would then be
planned and forgotten... I thought I shall do so immediately.

We never see a little flower that grows in a park you know. It takes
time. It takes effort to bend down and see its petals. Same is the
case with friendships. We have to invest time in this one Mar. I need
you to be there in my life.

*****

Somewhere in my journal, this is written:

As I get “richer,” as I get “more successful,” or the higher I go up the corporate ladder, the more I realize that a car, a house, or a high-paying job should and will not make me happy; the more I resolve to humble myself more; the more I take simple joy in taking the bus and the train, in bonding with my family and friends. There is just so much joy in simple and uncomplicated living.

I use my time more wisely now—lesser time on Facebook, more on reading and writing and being with family and friends. For several times this year, I was “on call” for friends who needed to be comforted (even at 12 midnight as I was about to go to bed after a long day at work!) and I have friends who are also just one text away whenever I need someone to have a meal or movie with. I thank God for my friends who, as varied as they are, keep me sane and grounded. I strive to have a more genuine and personal way of keeping in touch with them and not just through Facebook or Twitter, which are so shallow anyway, as one friend put it…because we have to invest time…we have to make time for the ones who really matter.

*****

And I keep this in mind:

1 Timothy 6:17-18

Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.

Let's Talk

I miss you.

I miss our school days—when we still had much time to talk and see each other even when we were surviving on a student allowance.

Look at us now. We have the money but we don’t have the time anymore for even a small talk. We only get to know about each other’s life through our status on Facebook, which I barely visit nowadays. I think Twitter is becoming more popular but I don’t intend to be there—140 characters would not be enough to tell you what’s going on in my life. Besides, I want to be more personal with you. I don’t want some generic broadcast of my life to the world to be my means to reach you.

We email each other but our mails have become shorter and shorter. We’re both too busy nowadays. Our hugs have been reduced to asterisks and letters *hugs*. Do you know that a person needs to be hugged at least three times a day? How do we do that? *hugs* *hugs* *hugs*? We promise to write longer, we plan to write more but we have to fight even for the time to do so. When I decide to go back to school once again, I am afraid that whatever little time I have right now to write to you will be taken away.

Missing You

I miss you. *hugs*mwah*mwah*

Faith vs. Hope

From my inbox:

I like the old King James translation of Hebrews 11:1:

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Faith is not an abstract theoretical proposition. It’s not wishful thinking. It’s substance. It’s action.

Most of my life I imagined faith as some kind of force field. And the way we talk about faith dematerializes it. By most definitions, faith is synonymous with hope.

The more I study Scripture, the more I detect a sharp distinction between hope and faith. Hope is a desire. Faith is a demonstration. Hope wants it to happen. Faith causes it to happen and acts as if it’s already done.

Faith is not content to want it really, really bad. Faith consults the drawings and gets busy building. Hope is the blueprint. Faith is the contractor.

Some of the things we’re believing God for will never happen in our lives because we stand in hope instead of walking in faith.

Take Time Off

From my inbox:

Learn To Take Time Off

On the seventh day He rested from all His work. - Genesis 2:2

Are you tired all the time? Even after sleeping? Do you keep going to the doctor but he can't find anything wrong with you? You may be experiencing the symptoms of burnout. Long periods of overexertion can cause fatigue, sleeplessness and stress. Some other signals of burnout are crying for no reason, being easily angered, insecurity, negativity, irritability, depression, cynicism and resentment toward the blessings of others. Recognize any of these in yourself?

One reason God established the Sabbath was to keep us from burning out. The law of the Sabbath simply says that we can work six days, but on the seventh we need to rest; also to spend time worshipping God and having fellowship with His people. Even God rested after six days work. Now since God doesn't get tired, clearly He's giving us an example we should follow.

We argue that we cannot afford to take time off. The truth is, we can't afford not to! You say, "But I would never get anything done if I did that." Then you're too busy and something needs to change in your life. When you're too busy to obey God's commandments, and even follow His example, you'll pay the price.

What you sow, you reap. If you sow continual stress with no rest to offset it, you'll reap the results in your body, your mind, your emotions, your health and your relationships. So, rearrange your priorities and learn to take time off!

Marie's Fairy Tale

She laughs out loud with her friends,
Her big smile belies the void inside her.

In her solitude, her thoughts fly
To her childhood in the land of white

Picket fences and green lawns, where she
Walked the streets with her small hands

Holding the big, strong, steady hands of her dad.
When she’s alone, she looks at her picture

With her mom by the Golden Gate Bridge of
San Francisco. Her dad took the photo when

She was seven. Much has changed since then.
There was a promise of endless love between

Mom and dad that is now broken.
Are all promises meant to be broken?

She now walks the cobblestone streets of London alone.
No strong and steady hands to hold her.

She takes photographs of Europe’s castles and palaces.
Could they live in one of those?

Once again, could dad be king and mom the queen
And she the princess? And could they live

Happily ever after? Or are happy endings
Really just found in fairy tales?

Timelines and An Epiphany (finally!)

In how many ways could one end a friendship? And what could be the reasons for its end? In the past many, many months, I’d heard, or must I say, read (through text!), the most unbelievable lines that ended a friendship, lines that had me in shock as my mind raced with questions that were only answered recently.

Several days and nights had found me weeping, not merely crying, at the loss of such relationships. Friends, those who have stayed, had found me staring out into space during conversations. I had so many questions like “how come it was so easy for them to end the friendship as if with just the blinking of their eyes or the snapping of their fingers?” Behind all the questions was one big “WHY?” Why the betrayal, why the lies, why the end? With the passage of time, the questions had remained unanswered. No explanations had been offered, no “closure talks” had taken place. We’ve since gone on with our lives, changed addresses, met new people, gone places without the other, and made plans without thinking of the other. I’ve been attending to my enlarged, and still enlarging, territory.

One recent Saturday, in the midst of watching TV, trying to take a nap, and playing with the dog (talk about multitasking!), the answer came, in a voice so distinct, so clear that it made me pause—it was so easy for them to let go of the friendship because there was no friendship in the first place, or the friendship stood on a wrong and weak foundation.

And now that I have the benefit of hindsight, I believe the answer was right.

While I had felt that there was something amiss in the friendship while I was still in it, I just ignored the feeling, I being not the type to count the cost of sacrifices I make just to make a friendship work or to make it worthy of being called a “friendship.” But how foolish of me for having thought of those relationships as a friendship, and how much more foolish could I have been for having thought of those people as my friends when I myself consider the words “friends” and “friendship” as something so sacred that for me, it takes time and trials to know if a friendship is genuine or to even call someone my friend. Heck, at the slightest sign of pressure or strain, the other person just always decided to let go of the friendship while I would exert all effort to restore it. So much for being tested! And so much for keeping promises of friendship!

Lesson? When you feel you’re being shortchanged in a relationship, in small or big ways or worse, both, you’re probably right. When you feel you are the only one working to keep a relationship, you’re probably right. A friendship doesn’t have to be a burden; it doesn’t have to be difficult to keep if there are two people keeping it. The sad thing is when there is only one person holding it tightly while the other one is ready to let go of it any time the going gets tough. Then, it is not worthy of being called a friendship and the other person is not worthy of being called a friend. Just end the il/delusion and move on.

Things I Never Said

I haven’t told you that I have finally completed the song we were supposed to collaborate on. The words are finished. They are just waiting for their melody.

Did you know that you were one of the reasons I happily decided not to go to France? I didn’t want to miss a single day with you.

I never told you that you were one of the reasons I loved the metaphor of the eagle.

…I saw the movie “Mamma Mia” and remembered the term “blue movie” that you taught me. I thought the movie, a musical, was something that you would love to see. Only that, you would probably see it alone or with someone new.

… I have never told you—my visa has finally arrived. I am off to London in a month. I will finally cross Abbey Road and imagine myself with the Beatles. I don’t know when I’m coming back or if there’s a reason for me to come back.

*****

Before our lunch last weekend, I had already forgotten the last time I saw you. You will find this funny--you once said that I am good at remembering days, at marking off the calendar. You also told me that I am very observant and that I remember what people said and did although I don’t talk about them. I would just often surprise you that I actually remembered things that you thought I just ignored. I never told you that I don’t actually remember everything. I only remember those that are worthy of being remembered. There are those that I choose to forget.

I remember our first date at the restaurant with a mini-orchestra. They played your song for me. I asked you how someone of your stature could love a shy, unassuming lady like me. You just looked at me and smiled as you held my hand. I stared back at you and looked deeply into your brown almond eyes and right there and then I knew I could spend forever with you. I knew I could dance with you in the rain and I would be the one to comfort you when you were in pain. After our dinner, you took me to your music studio. You smiled your dimpled smile when you saw me wide-eyed in amazement as you showed me your music studio. It was my first time inside one. We danced to your songs that night. We skipped and hopped and jumped like crazy to the fast ones and hugged each other while we danced to the slow ones.

Once, we were watching a singing competition. You were surprised that my comments matched those of the judges (there were a lot of flats). You said that maybe, beneath all the business orientation I had was a creative spirit waiting to be unleashed. Maybe. You believed in my writing skills and you encouraged me to write more often. You said we could be like Alex and Sophie in the movie “Music and Lyrics.” I would provide the words and you would provide the music. I haven’t told you that I have finally completed the song we were supposed to collaborate on. The words are finished. They are just waiting for their melody.

I remember our trip to Tagaytay where you taught me about photography. You were extremely happy with my shots. You said I had a natural eye for beauty. Again, you said that I had a creative streak waiting to be tapped. We were impulsive enough to go straight to Batangas after the photography session. We went to just have halu-halo at Aling Celing’s. Imagine that, a long drive to Batangas for a halu-halo?! The next time we were in Batangas was when you took me to your beach house. We went diving by day and at night we had a bonfire party for two. The white sand glowed under the moonlight and the cool breeze from the sea surrounded us. The only noise was our laughter and the lapping of the waves at the beach. I looked at you across the fire as you were fixing the food and drinks and I asked myself, “How could I not love you?” Did you know that you were one of the reasons I happily decided not to go to France? I didn’t want to miss a single day with you.

But, I never told you one thing: that whenever you would drop me off at my home, after the goodbye kiss, when the slightest whiff of your Bulgari perfume was gone, when the taillights and the sound of the engine of your car were gone, a nagging thought would surface—that fate had a different ending for us.

One afternoon, we were back at the restaurant where we had our first date. There was no music, only the clanking of plates and utensils. Everything seemed to be in slow motion—the waiters taking the orders, the other diners raising their hand to ask for the bill, everyone seemed to take forever to walk from the table to the kitchen, from the counter back to the table—everything in slow motion, a stark contrast to the beating of my heart. There was a decision that I had asked you to make and that day, you were telling me about it. You said you were letting me go. You said you were giving me the chance to soar, to find my own place under the sun, to have the world as my playground…because I wanted those…because while I wanted to spend forever with you, I also had dreams of my own, plans that I wasn’t ready to sacrifice then. You asked me for one thing and we both knew I couldn’t give it then. It was better for us to part ways. I always thought you were a good man. You had always been selfless. You allowed me to soar even if it meant parting ways. See, one thing I had always admired you—you had always allowed me to soar while keeping me grounded. I never told you that you were one of the reasons I loved the metaphor of the eagle.

Still, it was impossible for us not to see each other. We went to the same church. There was one Sunday when we attended the service at the same time. I didn’t see you but my friend said she saw you from afar looking at me with longing while my head was bowed since I was writing something. I never told her that I myself had had many accidental sightings of you in church at the usual time we would attend the service. From where I would always sit at the back of the hall, I sometimes would see you in your favorite seat—on the fifth row of the center front section of the hall. I had memorized your form even when your back was turned against me—when your arms were raised in praise, or when your head was bowed in prayer, and even when you were seated and listening intently to the preaching.

Many months after we had parted ways, I saw the movie “Mamma Mia” and remembered the term “blue movie” that you taught me. I thought the movie, a musical, was something that you would love to see. Only that, you would probably see it alone or with someone new.

The invitation to lunch last weekend came as a surprise. And so we went to our usual place, sat at our usual table. It was too early for the mini-orchestra. And you asked a question that came as a bigger surprise—you asked if I could welcome you back into my life. I just looked at you and smiled. I didn’t tell you that I hoped fate would give us a different ending this time, a happy ending--so I could finally dance with you in the rain--or would it?

By the way, I have never told you—my visa has finally arrived. I am off to London in a month. I will finally cross Abbey Road and imagine myself with the Beatles. I don’t know when I’m coming back or if there’s a reason for me to come back.

Empty Recycle Bin

I opened my picture file today
And chanced upon your photographs,
The ones with your smile that was so hard to come by;
I had kept so many of them, I didn’t realize.
I clicked on your folder, pressed delete,
Went to the recycle bin and emptied it.

How and why I stopped being a serial dater

Excerpt from David Nugent's column in the Philippine Daily Inquirer:

The biggest mistake? Getting into a relationship just for the heck of it. Or to escape a family situation, or a family, or yourself. To escape for any reason.

A relationship isn’t an escape. Never get into it unless it’s for the most basic reason—because you love and respect that person.

And never expect that love and respect go hand in hand. Sometimes, they don’t. I’ve loved people I didn’t respect all that much, and I’ve respected some I wasn’t in love with.

I learned that one has to do more than adore the person you’re with. You must admire him or her as well. I think it’s important to keep in mind that neither love nor respect should be given too easily. Proving love and earning respect take time and patience.

Another big mistake I had was using my partner as panacea for not having dealt with personal issues I should have resolved before getting into any relationship. In the Philippines, we spend a huge amount of time not dealing with our issues, whether they involve parents, siblings or ourselves.

Here’s a suggestion: Before you fall in love—even before you think you’ve fallen—take a breather and call a shrink. We’re a people who should have a national therapy conversation. The most important relationship you should ensure is with yourself first. Unless you fix what is inside, no other person, no matter how wonderful he or she may be, will be able to do it for you.

Falling and Getting Up

This spoke to me when I read Francis Kong's article in the Philippine Star yesterday:

We get a great opportunity to do something worthwhile and blow it by doing or saying something stupid. Or when faced with temptation, we know how to resist the enemy because we know all the right Bible verses to defend for ourselves. However, instead of putting on the “whole armor of God,” we seek to overcome in our own strength—and fail miserably.

However, when we do fail, the important thing is to get up, learn from our mistakes, and go on having learned to put our trust in God in every situation in which we find ourselves.

Many have resolved and broken their resolutions. Thousands have started and have fallen out by the way. But not many people have really gotten anywhere who did not set a goal for themselves and make a start toward that destination. Not many have done anything worth while without a determination to do. Says C. L. Paddock

Don’t give up. Trust in God, learn the lessons and move forward.

More here.

The End

Another chapter in my life is about to end. After nine months, I will soon plunge into the real corporate world. The past nine months has been more like going into Telco University but soon, I will go to real telco work--lesser handholding, I suppose, more accountabilities, and no room for mistakes (not that I was allowed to commit any as a management trainee). This is it!

When the seemingly final decision on my assignment sank in, my first reaction was fear—fear of the boss and fear of the job. How is the boss? Will I be able to do my job well? I had to catch and remind myself that there is nothing to fear. In my many years working and even studying, I have learned the secret to doing a job well:

1 Corinthians 10:31 (New International Version)
31So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

For some time in my former life, I used to work so hard because I was afraid of my boss, afraid of what she would say if I bungle the work. I think it would be appropriate to say that I worked hard to please her, a boss who left me scarred as a worker. I never really realized how badly her criticisms had affected me until I noticed that all my reflection papers in HBO about “How Not to Behave as a Boss” were about her. She said some things that I now just choose not to remember. Most of the things in the office were about her--what she wanted done, how she wanted things done, or how she would react if she saw our work. Even her one-downs and the rest of the staff would consult one another on the way she wanted things done so as not to get a reprimand or a flying stack of paper or a crumpled document that should have been for her approval.

When I started my walk with God and learned about the verse above, I had to teach myself to stop pleasing people. I have learned that I have only One True Boss and that is God, and if I base my standards on His, I would never go wrong. Every time I do something, at work or in school, I ask myself, “Would this please God?” Every time I feel like saying “pwede na yan,” I ask myself, “but, would it please God?” Ever since I have adopted this mentality, I have had very rewarding results.

I can say that I give my best whenever I do something not because I want the recognition but because it is the right thing to do (do I hear workaholic and perfectionist?). After all, if God is my boss and if He has equipped me to a job well, wouldn’t I do just that? I think this has somehow affected my reaction when people praise my work or compliment or thank me for a good job. While the boss is there all praises for my work, I would be thinking, “Why is she thanking me?” or “What’s so good with my work?” “Isn’t that what I am supposed to do—to do good work?” I mean, don’t compliment me because that’s what I am supposed to do anyway, right? I have heard these things several times during my training program and I have since learned to appreciate the compliments for just as God wants us to glorify Him through our works, He is also “not unjust to forget your work and labor of love which you have shown toward His name” (Heb 6:10 NKJV)…There were also times when I thought I just turned in ordinary work in spite of how badly I had wanted to do it better, but to my surprise, I still ended up receiving good feedback about it. It is amazing how God can still reward us even when we think we don’t deserve it. His standards are really different from ours. He has been making me grow from glory to glory even when I think I don’t deserve it.

God wants us to do everything for His glory. But unlike some bosses who expect the best from their subordinates without giving them any guidance at all, God actually equips us to do just that—give Him glory. He gives us the strength because He is the most powerful and wealthiest King we can ever know.

Philippians 4:13,19 (New International Version)
13I can do everything through him who gives me strength.
19And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.

While meeting with the HR person this morning, I was reminded that there is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. 1 John 4:18 (New International Version)


So, why fear? Am I being punished? I believe otherwise. Because just as God has been surprising me at work and even in my studies before at AIM, I know that there is something waiting for me in this new assignment. And with the perfect love He has for me, this fear will go away. I know that He will cover me in the same way that He has always covered me just when I start to fear and doubt.

A picture just crossed my mind: Jesus and I are sitting on top of a table in an open grass field, we’re swinging our legs, and He’s telling me that He has prepared something good for me. I say, we should find some isaw or fishballs and Coke.

The Mail

5 a.m. I am sitting across the TV watching a show I barely understand. A letter envelope comes in my mailbox. The sender’s name is blank but the name is my name and the address is my home. I put the TV in mute, anticipating the message of the anonymous sender. I turn the lights on and prepare to read.

The crumple of the envelope as I open it makes a sharp contrast to the silence of my room. My room’s lights stand out in the sea of darkness outside.

The letter says that today is my last day on earth for tonight when I sleep, tomorrow I will wake up no more. Suddenly, my life flashes in front of me.

The smile on my parents’ lips when I was born. My first day in prep school. What’s the name of that boy again who stepped on my foot and made me cry?

I see myself curled up in bed, crying, the first time someone broke my heart.

I see myself waking up at 3 a.m. to answer the call of a friend who got pregnant out of wedlock. That was ten years ago.

I remember that party with friends that was filled with laughter and that birthday celebration with my family.

The end. My failures, my success, my unfulfilled dreams are now just a speck of dust in the air. Irrelevant.

I look at the TV and turn it off. The screen turns black, all the colors reduced to a white dot at the center that in a while will disappear.

The letter is signed: God.

Dazed

I woke up at 4:30 am today to the pelting of the rain on my window. In the coldness of the room, I felt your arm around my waist and your breath on my nape. I turned around to look at your beautiful face and gaze at your long lashes, your not-so-perfect nose, and your red lips. Your eyes were closed but even then, I knew they held all the beauty of your soul. I took in all the beauty that was before me, illuminated by the light coming from the lamppost outside the window.

I felt your hand caress my arm, my shoulder, my neck, my face then you planted a soft kiss on my lips. I anticipated a beautiful dance to happen, with the rain outside playing its music. You have always considered the rain sexy.

I heard footsteps inside the room and turned to see a child that had your long lashes, your not-so-perfect nose, and your red lips. She had tears on her cheeks that reminded that today, I would look at your face beneath the glass covering of your casket for the last time; that starting today, there would be no more long lashes, not-so-perfect nose, and red lips to gaze at; that starting today, there would be no more dance when the rain comes while we are in bed.

Letters

In my to-do-list last weekend were three letters for three friends that had been waiting to be written. I finished writing the letters yesterday and have sent them out. (I have learned that I am not so good at face-to-face conversations especially the ones when I have to advise or reconcile with someone as I have the tendency to be brutally honest, so just let me write. At least I can edit my words and be gentler.)

I wrote mostly about humility and forgiveness, two areas I have always struggled with, especially forgiveness. I don’t forgive easily. I give in to anger and say hurtful words and think thoughts I would rather not talk about because I am not proud of them. But recent, or let’s say, two events that had transpired in the past two years of my life taught me just about these two things—humility and forgiveness, underscore on forgiveness. I have learned that I just have to decide to forgive, not because of the other person but because it is the right thing to do. I have to choose to forgive because not doing so spells defeat on my part. The other person’s world will not stop because I haven’t forgiven him but I would be stuck with the hatred in my heart. That’s tragic. I would have lingering anger while the other would be celebrating life, such a loser!

Late last year, over pasta and pizza, I told a friend how I had asked myself one time why I had to go through so much emotional pain. I mean, I could have just gone through such kind of pain vicariously, right? I have witnessed friends go through break-ups and separations; were those not enough to learn my lesson?

As I wrote the letters, I remembered the lessons I have learned from those two events. And those are what I passed on to my friends. Now I know why I had to go through those experiences, through such heart-wrenching pain.

Not Yet Over Him

...The tribute to Francis M. On the day of the concert, people were still trying to come to grips with the news of Francis Magalona’s death. He had been due to perform in the concert. The Eraserheads prepared a tribute instead— “Sumigaw tayo para kay Francis!” Ely said. The crowd broke into a deafening chant, “Francis! Francis!”

Raymund held up a sign that read, “Rock Ed Salutes The Man From Manila.” The band played “Superproxy” and “Kaleidoscope World,” with Ely rapping, instead of Francis.

Many people online have written that the teleprompter set up in front of the stage must have been a big help when Ely had to rap “Superproxy.” Truth is, the lyrics of the rap were not on the teleprompter. Yes, Ely knows them by heart.

(haaayyy, Ely…)

...Three for the road. The Eraserheads had done an encore, the show was over, or so everyone thought. People started to spill out of the concert grounds, the crew took over the stage and started packing up.

But then, Raymund returned and said, “Gusto ninyo pa ba?”

The crowd went wild. “Tawagin niyo si Ely!” “Tawagin ninyo si Marcus!”

Soon, the four were back onstage, standing in a circle. Ely asked the crowd, “Kaya ninyo pa ba?” Everyone was still going wild. “Okay. Three for the road,” he said. They played “Ligaya,” “Sembreak” and “Toyang.”

Ely finally left his comfort zone behind the mic stand and actually went down to the crowd, making people sing parts of Toyang. Asked later why they decided to play more songs, Raymund said, “Sobrang bitin pa kami ni Buddy! Gusto ko pa nga ng sampu eh!”

The extra songs may have been unplanned (and unrehearsed) but they did not come as a surprise.

Apparently, in the last rehearsals, Ely said, “’Pag hindi tayo tinigilan, dire-diretso lang tayo.”

This part of the show resonated so much with the crowd not just because they played three well-loved songs, but also because it gave fans hope that maybe, just maybe, like the fans, the Eraserheads didn’t want the night to end. (nakakaiyak naman pagkakasulat nito…pramis)

For more of the “10 Greatest Moments of Eraserheads’ Final Set”, go to www.inquirer.net.

*****

A week later and I have yet to shake off the Eraserheads/Ely Buendia/rocker phase. I have to shake this off. Stat!

*Blockquotes mine.

Climate Change and Earth Hour

The worst-case scenarios on climate change envisaged by the UN two years ago are already being realised, say scientists at an international meeting.

In a statement in Copenhagen on their six key messages to political leaders, they say there is a increasing risk of abrupt or irreversible climate shifts.

Even modest temperature rises will affect millions of people, particularly in the developing world, they warn.

For more about this news, click here.

*****
This year, Earth Hour has been transformed into the world’s first global election, between Earth and global warming.

For the first time in history, people of all ages, nationalities, race and background have the opportunity to use their light switch as their vote – Switching off your lights is a vote for Earth, or leaving them on is a vote for global warming. WWF are urging the world to VOTE EARTH and reach the target of 1 billion votes, which will be presented to world leaders at the Global Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen 2009.

VOTE EARTH by simply switching off your lights for one hour, and join the world for Earth Hour.

Saturday, March 28, 8:30-9:30pm.

For more about the Earth Hour, click here.

Status

This part of the column “Emily’s Post” in the Philippine Daily Inquirer made me smile.

What exactly is his status? Married? Separated? Separating? With children?

These should be made into additional statuses in Facebook, Friendster, and other social networking websites that ask for the civil status of the member.

For the rest of the column, click here.

Job Description

Multi-talented or multi-profession
BUSINESS MATTERS (BEYOND THE BOTTOM LINE)
By Francis J. Kong
Updated March 15, 2009 12:00 AM
www.philstar.com

I meet people every day of my life. Maybe this is because I do training and I speak to crowds practically 6 days a week. Sundays I go to a huge church that gathers thousands of people every meeting. This is why I meet people all the time.

Some people sort of know me. One would approach me with a smile on her face and say, “Excuse me but aren’t you Francis Kong, the speaker?” If the person looks friendly and bubbly I would reply, “Yes mam, been for a long time…..” That would bring a smile on her face. And then some would come to me and say, “You must be Francis Kong, the newspaper columnist?” Others would say, “I have read your books sir. You are Francis Kong the author.” Now once in a while there will be people who would say, “Francis, I used to supply you with fabrics and accessories this is why I remember you,” all though people in this category are getting scarcer as I have left the garments industry some 7 years ago. And lately because of my appearance almost every Thursday morning in the short advice segment of the popular morning TV program Umagang Kay Ganda, people would call out my name on the streets and say, “Good morning po Sir Francis…kumusta na si Edu?” J

And so this got me thinking.

What is my profession? Am I a public speaker? An author? A newspaper columnist? A teacher? A business consultant? Maybe all of the above? What is my job description?

The world is changing. I do not consider myself as a man of multi-talent. But I do consider myself as a person of multi-occupation.

The days of “doctor” and “postman” are pretty much gone. It’s an entirely different world today. Which brings me to a sensitive question. Are you still clinging on to a job title?

Now here is another testy question. Do you still get irritated if you are asked to do a task that you feel is “Not in your Job Description?”

You need to wake up!

This is the age of Multi-tasking. So how in heavens name could anyone expect to work within one’s “job description?” And in case you haven’t noticed….doesn’t your job description include a tiny little item that says…. “and other jobs that may require you to do”?

This is why you need to be a well rounded person. Be adventurous. Accept challenge and make the best of your time by reading, listening to tapes, attending seminars, learning things and adding more value to you who are and what you can do.

While we’re at it, what is your job description? Is it a hopeful, optimistic, powerful document that gives you permission to explore new opportunities and to get something done? Or is it a defensive shield that makes it easy for you to identify what’s not your responsibility?

Here is another piece of advice. “It’s not about your job description dude! It’s about you. Don’t ever expect people to raise up your price if you have not raised up your value.

I guess all those years of reading books, (yet I am still reading a lot more today…) all those tapes I listened to (my ipod is full of them…..) and all those seminars I have attended…(will attend a lot more this year….) has contributed to the opportunity of having so many professions. Don’t talk to me about job descriptions but do talk to me about your desire to become more valuable as a person.

There are no menial jobs’ only menial attitudes.

Brian Tracy says this and we should never forget it: “You will always be paid in direct proportion to the work you do, how well you do it, and the difficulty of replacing you.”

*Italics mine.

Hello, Goodbye, Katipunan.

I went to the Katipunan area today. I went to a place on Dela Rosa Street to be exact. A familiar area yet it wasn’t the kind of familiarity that gave me comfort; it was the kind of familiarity that gave me discomfort.

I parked at a spot away from the building I was going to. I parked away from the view of the guard of someone’s condominium building, afraid that he might again mouth someone’s name when he sees me. “No, manong, I am not here for him. Duty calls that’s why I am here so banish that sly smile I see through you,” I thought, imagining a conversation with the guard. One time I was in the area, it was unnerving how the guard still related me to someone like I could never have another reason for being in the area but him.

Inside the studio, the place on Dela Rosa Street I went to, I stayed in my little corner and pushed the thoughts of someone away from my mind. I had buried my dead and there was no use resurrecting it. No, let me correct that, there was no death; just an ending, a chapter that I had to close on my own. Death is morbid. Closing a chapter is gentler, kinder. I am now writing a new chapter.

As I was leaving the place, I thought that my life has been having a lot of fleeting presences lately. Several people just seem to be passing by and I guess, in a way, I have come to accept that some people are just meant to be passersby in my life. No use asking them to stay if there is no reason to or if they don’t want to.

I had been going out with someone recently. At some point, I realized he wasn’t meant to stay as he had been wont to do in the three years I had known him. After the third date, I said goodbye.

As the sun set on Katipunan Avenue today, I found myself seated across a smart and funny person, exchanging stories about a common past. When it was time to say goodbye and leave the place, I knew that it would be our first and last personal conversation. I also told a girl why I was fidgety inside the studio and she told me she would take care of me. I didn’t doubt her sincerity but I knew it wasn’t a “friendship” that was meant to last a lifetime.

I have learned that I don’t have the gift of goodbye. The few goodbyes I’ve had at the end of a relationship were of teleserye proportions. But I think I have the gift of knowing which people in my life will stay and which ones will just come and go…fleeting presences…people just passing by (although, I sometimes had tried to make them stay…and failed).

As I was leaving the area, I saw that the light in someone’s condominium unit was on. Was he there? Should I have resurrected the dead? No…Should I have reopened a chapter and erased everything I had written since I had closed it? I decided to speed away.

Today, I was just a fleeting presence on Dela Rosa Street. If only it could speak, Fabian dela Rosa (the street) would have told me, “Mar, you’re just a passerby here. You don’t belong here.” And I would have answered, “Yes, I don’t belong here. I never belonged here,” and whisper to myself, “although I once thought of staying, of being a constant in this place, not merely a transient visitor.”

I thought I had said goodbye to Katipunan. But I learned that I couldn’t say goodbye. Just as there will be many other fleeting presences in my life, I will again be a passerby in the area on March 14, I suppose, when I would again park at a spot, wait for someone, then later speed away…and on many other days after that.

Timelines

For P.

Six months, sixteen days. My eyes are lined and my lips are glossed, my face is luminously aglow. It is a familiar drive down Katipunan Avenue. The sights and sounds haven’t changed, not much, but I know I have and so have you.

There is a familiar knot in my gut as I look back to the fifteen months past when I was yours and you were mine, though now I ask, was I totally yours and were you ever mine?

Fifteen months. I built castles in the air and thought you would make them come true, but songs were never sung and promises were never kept and the castles vanished into thin air.

Tonight, where the eagle met the star, I thought a smile would give them light. Not much was said, no goodbyes, just a “thank you” and a smile that never brought back the light. And when the eagle descended from the star, I heard her heart say goodbye.

Six months, sixteen days. My eyes are lined and my lips are glossed, my face is luminously aglow. It is a familiar drive away from Katipunan Avenue. I wave to the wind and say goodbye.

January 30, 2009

P's toothy smile...

...and eyes and height and hands.




Eyes, height, hands, smile, teeth…some of the physical characteristics that attract me to a guy. But of course, he has to be more than these. If he doesn’t have the smarts and a beautiful soul, then I’ll just fantasize about Piolo anytime.

*****

In my effort to further appease BBB, who I think freaked out when he read P all over my happy blogs lately, I am posting another picture of P (as in Piolo Pascual) with a very toothy smile.

BBB, I seldom refer to P as P in my blogs. I refer to him by some other name (or pronoun...no worries, nothing harsh and evil) so please don’t be bothered as there has been no “sudden renewing of something that we had decided was better off buried,” as you referred to in your mail. Gosh, why do we have to talk about burials? Why can’t we just refer to it as a closed chapter? Burials are just so gloomy and sad...and homicidal...even murderous...and I am not a murderer. I only murder cockroaches and mosquitoes...I think I just contradicted myself.*smiles*

Let me introduce P to you...

To those who are wondering who P is, here he is:



He certainly knows how to smile…a heart-melting smile...haaayyy...*eyes flutter*

Alapaap

My current state of mind:

Masdan mo ang aking mata
'Di mo ba nakikita
Ako'y lumilipad at nasa alapaap na
Gusto mo bang sumama ?

Now I am thinking that I would like to marry a rock star (mwahahaha). So, P, please stop singing love songs! (I am trying to imagine P wearing long hair and leather jacket…just like in one of his movies with Judy Ann Santos and his Sunday appearances on ASAP).

But the Ereaserheads concert notwithstanding, I am really happy now…with or without the rock star Piolo.

I am singing (minus the words that should not be said):

Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn you're free
Look into your heart and you'll find love love love love
Listen to the music of the moment people dance and sing
we're just one big family
and it's our God-forsaken right to be loved loved loved loved loved

I am happy…so so happy…*peace*

Summer

I don’t like summer.
I don’t like the way the summer sun
darkens my already dark skin
and how the warm air causes me to sweat
even when I’m not doing anything
or how the morning air causes perspiration
to dot my back just as I step out of the bathroom.

I am not sure of this;
maybe I was absent when it was
discussed in class
but it is dustier in summer
as if the warm air causes dust particles
to rise and dance in the air
right before my very eyes.
Later, I sneeze.

But if summer leads you to me,
if it allows us an excuse to be together,
if it gives us the chance to escape the city
and enjoy the waves at our feet,
then let me have summer
with the warm air and the sweat
and the summer morning air
that greets me as I step out
of the bathroom.

Let me have summer’s cold nights
when I can feel the warmth of your embrace
and your lips on mine.
Let me have summer’s warm days
and bright sun so I can gaze at your face
and look at your eyes
and see me in them.

One Life to Live

The “One Life to Live” series of Victory Christian Fellowship ended yesterday, March 7th. The series was based on the book “One Month to Live” but since “one month” was a bit scary, the title was changed to “One Life to Live.” It has had a profound effect on me and it has underscored the truth that with everything that we aim for—success, wealth, fame—relationships are all that really matter. At the end of our lives, the people around us will not remember us for the money we have in the bank or the businesses we have built or how far we have gone up the corporate ladder but for how we have touched their lives.

The series had four different topics each Saturday from February 14th to March 7th—Live Passionately, Love Completely, Learn Humbly, and Leave a Legacy. There were two videos used in the series that I would like to share with you.

This first video was used in discussing the topic “Live Passionately.” If we have only one life to live, how would we want to spend it?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvYb4BLIAQw

This second video was used in discussing the topic “Leave a Legacy.” How would we want to be remembered and what do we need to change in our lives now to achieve this?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42E2fAWM6rA

Painting You

Are you happy?

I once asked you this while you were lying on my lap as I ran my fingers through your hair, your temples, all the way down to the bridge of your nose.

I remember your face from memory as I paint it on the empty canvass staring in front of me.

And you said, “I’m not.”

So, what if I invite you to my world where colors are bright and laughter is loud? Where there are movies to see and art galleries to visit; where the biggest dreams come true because hope and passion abound; where we can scale the highest mountains and swim the deepest seas.

What if I open up your world as I open mine and let’s explore the beauty that is in everything big and small? It is not always sunny but we can dance in the rain and not care about the people around us. We can bask in the sun when it’s up and at night, count the stars while on our back at a beach with the waves playing at our feet.

Let us splash colors to our worlds that have long been in the shadows of the past, over the yellow flowers, red apples, and green grass. Let us dance like there’s no tomorrow, sing at the top of our lungs, and kiss, and hug, and live, and love.

I look at the still empty canvass before me. I look at my now empty lap and my palms stained with paint.

Timelines and Smiles

For P.

Fifteen months. I count the number of times you smiled, the number of times we shared a meal, and the number of times we shared a laugh. I read each entry in my diary and paint the picture in my mind. I still remember the moments vividly, the colors so bright, your voice, your eyes. But I wonder why my heart doesn’t skip a beat and the memories don’t make me smile; they don’t make me cry.

I never said goodbye, afraid to obliterate you from my life. Unsure whether to forget a promise or just keep it in my heart, filed within the recesses of my mind.

Goodbye. I tried uttering the word in the many moments I was alone. My mind agreed but my heart did not. One last smile, I said, one last smile and I would like to feel if my heart would skip a beat and if I myself could smile.

One last smile. I would like to see if I would long to kiss your lips and melt in your embrace.

Just last night. I longed to share a laugh, a meal, perhaps. I longed to touch your face and hug you tight.

Tonight. You smiled that one last smile. I looked into your eyes and did not see me. My heart didn’t skip a beat and I couldn’t smile. I turned my back, walked away, ran down the stairs, and asked myself “is this goodbye?”


February 2, 2009
Ed. February 4, 2009

Thank You

I have been following the blog of a friend. As I was reading it, I realized that she is currently going through what I went through last year. Life as they say is a cycle, a wheel in revolution; it has its ups and downs. She said this season might as well be her “dip” season. I, on the other hand, think that I am on the upswing. Lately though, I have been fearful that this season of my life might end soon (and I don’t want it to because I am sooo enjoying it)…that my own “dip” would come (and I don’t want it…not too soon). But hey, who says it will not come? Who says I will not be tested and disciplined and broken and molded yet again? And why do I have to be fearful when I have survived everything that has been thrown my way with God’s grace? I have always come out stronger and better.

I couldn’t have survived without the help of friends. To those who nursed the wounded eagle, thank you and I love you more (you know who you are). I am over the wounded-ness and am now back with the serenity I once had. To Pastor Dennis who prayed with me for spiritual revival during the prayer and fasting week, thank you! He told me to be joyful and I feel I am. To Tita Virgie who was instrumental in answering a question I had been struggling with, thank you!

I still am not perfect; I still trip every now and then but more are the nights when I can sleep soundly and wake up with a silly smile on my face. I am soaring. Let's all soar!

Isaiah 40:31 (New International Version)
but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

Blogroll

These are my blogs:

sereneeagle.blogspot.com
sereneeagle.wordpress.com
sereneeagle.multiply.com

I don’t even know why I keep three blogs.

I like Multiply because it is easier to upload pictures there.

Blogspot is where I keep the more emo stuff (and other stuff that I don’t want the pastors to see…hehehe…kidding).

Wordpress, well, I like it because I can categorize my posts (OC!) and I was able to edit the header to have a Boracay 2007 picture up at the blog, which I couldn’t do at Blogspot because I don’t understand the whole HTML stuff.

Economy Seats

I would like to share this article from the Philippine Star written by one of the columnists I admire.

**************************************************************
BUSINESS MATTERS (BEYOND THE BOTTOM LINE) By Francis J. Kong
Updated March 01, 2009 12:00 AM

Last week I got a letter from The Philippine Airlines Mabuhay Miles Club that instantaneously changed the smile on my face into a slight frown. I couldn’t understand it. They have downgraded my status from “Elite” to “regular” informing me that I have not met the required sectors or mileage for year 2007-2008. This came to me as a surprise. I take a local flight every week (or maybe every other week) and I have in fact traveled more times domestically last year compared to the previous years.

And then it dawned on me. I have always persuaded the organizers of my speaking events to book me on PAL flights as I usually take the first flight out and would prefer the comfort of the Mabuhay lounge for a little bit of rest and preparation. But due to budget considerations, organizers book me promo tickets that do not provide miles credit and thus, the downgrade.

Now this leaves me with a quandary. Should I then just leave them to book me whatever tickets they want or maybe I can require them to book me “Business Class” as part of my demands?

My constant email pal Philip See sent me this interesting article that made me decide on the proper course of action. It is based on an article written by Singapore’s millionaire Adam Khoo. Adam says: “Someone came up to me and asked, ‘How come a millionaire like you is travelling economy?’ My reply was, ‘That’s why I am a millionaire.” He still looked pretty confused. This again confirms that greatest lie ever told about wealth. Many people have been brainwashed to think that millionaires have to wear Gucci, Hugo Boss, Rolex, and sit on first class in air travel. The truth is that most self-made millionaires are frugal and only spend on what is necessary and of value. That is why they are able to accumulate and multiply their wealth so much faster. I refuse to buy a first class ticket or to buy a $300 shirt because I think that it is a complete waste of money. However, I happily pay $1,300 to send my two-year old daughter to Julia Gabriel Speech and Drama without thinking twice.

I noticed that it was only those who never had to work hard to build their own wealth spent like there was no tomorrow. Somehow, when you did not have to build everything from scratch, you do not really value money. This is precisely the reason why a family’s wealth (no matter how much) rarely lasts past the third generation. Then some people ask me, ‘What is the point in making so much money if you don’t enjoy it?’

I don’t really find happiness in buying branded clothes, jewelry or sitting first class. Even if buying something makes me happy it is only for a while, it does not last. Material happiness never last, it just give you a quick fix. After a while you feel lousy again and have to buy the next thing which you think will make you happy. I always think that if you need material things to make you happy, then you live a pretty sad and unfulfilled life. Instead, what makes me happy is when I see my children laughing and playing and learning so fast. What makes me happy is when I see my companies and trainers reaching more and more people every year in so many more countries. What makes me really happy is when I read all the emails about how my books and seminars have touched and inspired someone’s life.

The point I want to put across is that happiness must come from doing your life’s work (be in teaching, building homes, designing, trading, winning tournaments etc..) and the money that comes is only a by-product. If you hate what you are doing and rely on the money you earn to make you happy by buying stuff, then I think that you are living a meaningless life.

End of article. Thanks Philip for the wonderful article.

How true this is. Now I know what I would do. I will never insist on my organizers getting me a Business Class ticket. I will feel the joy of lining up on economy row just like the rest of the people I know. I wouldn’t mind waiting outside the lounge because while these things offer me convenience, they do not offer me happiness. And I will be happy not because of what is on me but what is IN me.