Talking with passionate people

I was at church today and was approached by Tito Efren. He asked how I was and I told him that Mamu was here. They had known each other before when she was assigned here and he was and still is the president of the association of Filipinos who work in the various diplomatic missions here.

Tito Efren is from Tarlac and I met him through my mom and also the other Filipino friends that I have here in Geneva. What is so striking about him and not just him but his wife is the passion they have for life. They lovingly call each other "amore" which is Italian for "my love" because they met there 20 years ago. They still have the picture of the first night they met and he offered a bunch of roses to Tita Lalaine. (On the first night they met!!!) Well, it only ended happily ever after and three kids later, they are well-settled in Geneva raising their beautiful children, serving in the church but most of all - trying to help people.

Mamu was invited, I coming along, because he wanted to talk about his project in Tarlac. He had been developing a project to help graduating agricultural students in Tarlac through the establishment of a livelihood project composed of an organic restaurant and marketing organic fruits and vegetables at the roadside where their land borders the high way. He researched all that he needed to know and contacted the people that could possibly help him. For now, he wants to install a pump that runs on renewable resources to bring up the water from the stream into the 8 hectares of land that he has. He gets student volunteers to help develop the land and offers a profit-sharing scheme so that the students can earn.

Tito Efren is financing the whole thing for now and hoping that it will become a model for other land owners in order to help their tenants, the students and generally to help the whole community. He's been helping his community ever since he could.

What really strikes me is the passion, both he and his wife, of helping people. They are also one of the focal points of the Bantay Bata 163 Foundation of ABS-CBN here in Geneva. They seem to be tireless in helping and their home is open to anyone who needs a home.

I am so awed by people I meet who in the peak of their lives, only want to help others. They live simply with few amenities here. They don't count the costs and are warm and loving people.

I love to meet people like them because their passion is so infectious. They are so lovable. They are so down-to-earth. They are so real! It's rare nowadays to find people like these. It's a pleasure to know them and to be their friends. I learn a lot from them and how much they take from life. Everything is a blessing and everything is an occasion for joy.

When they call each other "amore", even with the occasional teasing from husband and wife, it is such a light atmosphere. The love is infectious and it's wonderful. I'm glad to have spent time with them tonight.

Thank you for being such wonderful people, Tito Efren and Tita Lalaine. May God continue to bless you for your goodness.

Who am I - Casting Crowns

I heard this at Mass today and I was so moved. Would like to share this beautiful song to everybody ...

Casting Crowns Mp3

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Lyrics

Artist: Casting Crowns
Album: Casting Crowns
Title: Who Am I

Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart

Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You're

Chorus:
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours

Who Am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who Am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me

I am Yours
Whom shall I fear
Whom shall I fear
'Cause I am Yours
I am Yours

http://songbook.manueladam.com

every way possible

how do i love thee?
let me count the ways ... said elizabeth ...

but let me say ...
how do i love thee?
in every possible way.

my soul you captured
you know me ...
you understand ...
our souls intertwined ...

how do i love thee?
in every possible way ...

at night when you feel scared
and you're off to slumber
i am there ...
in spirit ...

how do i love thee?
in every possible way ...

your heart i cradle in my arms
your heart i treasure in mine
your dreams i lift up to the sky
so that God will grant them divine ...

how do i love thee?
in every possible way ...

you're a tree ...
i'm the wind ...
you grow in splendor ...
i watch and encourage ...

how do i love thee?
in every possible way ...

until you become that redwood
grounded
yet reaching for the sky ...
a tree ... with a mighty heart

neither years nor distance
have caused a splinter
in our paths meeting
without fail

how do i love thee?
in every possible way ...

a journey,
travelers,
wanderer,
stargazer

the stars, the moon,
the sun,
they are our signs,
the witnesses of love ...

when in a galaxy ...
two hearts meet ...
no words are said ...
but these ...

how do i love thee?
in every possible way.

s p a c e s

solitude ...

silence ...

spaces ...

spirit ...

slumber ...

solace ...

sleep ...

soul ...

...

peace ...

Man-made limitations

"Here’s The Truth: You’re Only Limited By Your Love

& Imagination!" - Bo Sanchez

mirror, mirror on the wall - i'm not the fairest of them all ...

how many times have you looked into the mirror and thought this to yourself? how many times do you wish that you had a different set of teeth, curlier locks or straighter strands, a taller nose, angelina-like pouting lips? when were you last satisfied when you looked in the mirror?

i sometimes think to myself, what if i had this and that talent? wouldn't it be great? i said that out loud once ... and i was reproached! a friend told me, "that would be too much! you would've gotten everything!" i thought to myself, i'm being selfish and greedy. and i don't rejoice enough in the talents that God has given me. i might not even be utilizing them all and i'm already asking for more??? it's really selfish!

there are times when we think to ourselves - what is my worth in this life? am i making a difference? what if i had this, i could! you can make a difference now! you are that one unique person in the world.

when you go shopping, do you look for that shirt that everybody else has? NO! you wouldn't want to be walking around town to see that someone else had something on like yours. so, why are we sometimes hoping that we had the same personalities, talents, skills and what-have-yous that the jones', the dela cruzes' and which ever neighbour, friend, lover, idol has?

you are your unique superstar! even if you don't believe it, you serve a particular purpose in this world. you are short, you are tall, you are pretty, you are special, you are you - 1 in 6 billion! i remember the movie simon birch. he was small, he had a deformity and he was to die young. but he had a certain skill that little children listened to him. when a field trip went awry and the children plunged into the icy cold water, he being a small person could fit into the little school bus window to help the children escape to safer ground. and with his authoritative voice he calmed all the children so that they could make it out. he saved everybody but his lungs didn't recover from the water exposure. but that was his purpose. God was so wise to make him as small as he was, as authoritative as he was and he always wanted to be a hero .. and he was.

and because we are essentially all equal in our uniqueness, there is also no need to be judgemental of others or to think one is more superior than another. if we look at a big jigsaw puzzle, all pieces don't look alike. they are different shapes and it's in these different shapes that everything fits because if everything were square, it would be confusing to tell which piece belonged without first seeing the big picture. but if we are oddly shaped, even without seeing the big picture, we know it works because it fits!

i was talking to my friend the other day and she thought that she never thinks of anyone as inferior to herself. i congratulated her because that was the right way of thinking. there is honestly something different everyone can offer. we can make a difference. just look at an impressionist painting. the same scenery would never look alike. monet, manet and all artists rejoice in their differences. why can't we?

so let's not try to best each other ... let's just celebrate each other's differences and glorify the Lord that He has made us so different that we've become the spice of someone's life - be it lover, friend, family, as father, mother, brother, sister ... even as a stranger.

BE THAT UNIQUE SUPERSTAR YOU WERE MEANT TO BE!!!

free will - which door will you choose?

There are three doors. Each one marked accordingly and has a time limit to reach your final destination.

Door No. 1 - Eternal happiness laden with troubles, possible lion capture, tiger bites, malaria, physical beating, other hardships may arise, such as broken hearts, broken spirit and loneliness. Length of time: 70 years.

Door No. 2 - Eternal damnation but road is comfortable, no possible physical injury, rose petals on the road, comfort, relative ease of living, worldly love, no effort to live, a limousine will take you there. Length of time: 20 years.

Door No. 3 - Crossroads that lead to eternal happiness and eternal damnation. May lead to a comfortable life or not, could experience thorns along the way as well as sunny patches. Length of time: 100 years.

Which would you choose?

Life is not as simple as choosing doors. Neither is it as easy as finding doors that are accordingly marked. It's more of a guessing game really with subtle clues whether we are going the right way or not.

During the past week, that's been the topic of conversation, between friends, and a even the message at Church this Sunday. We all have a choice to say "yes" or "no" to God because He always says "yes" to us. His resounding "yes" was the death of Jesus Christ on the Cross to save us from all our sins.

He has also given us the power to choose. A friend of mine related to me that last Sunday's message at her church was that God was the Great Orchestrator. I asked her what that meant. She pictured an orchestra and God had the score sheet. Each musician had the choice to follow the conductor or not. The strings could move up, the wind could go down ... it could be a cacophony instead of harmony. I said wouldn't it be nice to see the score sheet so that we'd know what to do. She said that it could be complicated and harder if we saw the Great Plan. She has a point, it could be confusing ... When we see a map, do we actually know where to go? It's not as easy as that. She said, that we have to look at the signs. I said what are the signs? She said it could be the Bible or experiences or people. I would like to quote another friend who says that God is His GPS. God Positioning System. Even if we stray, He's still there at the end of the road leading us back to the right path.

Going back to the possibly cacophonic orchestra and to what my friend said, each musician has a choice whether to follow the conductor or not, to play or not, to rise with each beat or to go softer. Here lies the freedom. Some of us have a rough idea what the music is supposed to sound like but when we play on our own, it doesn't seem to be as majestic. It actually may sound wrong. But when put together, the harmony becomes an intricate web of music that is not only pleasing to the ears but revelationary for the musician. "Ah, that's why I had to play that way because it could only be played a certain way to achieve that effect." But oftentimes, we don't see the big picture. In our own decisions, we think we are alone. We don't realize that it's more of a Domino Effect.

Sometimes, it's easier to say that "We didn't have a choice". There are instances where this is a true statement but unless somebody has a gun to your head or threatens your life, we all have a choice whether to open doors 1, 2 or 3. Sometimes, we say that life is short so why not take Door No. 2. Afterall, we're all bound to die, we might as well have it easy in our earthly life. Door No. 1 seems to be a masochistic life and who would wilfully suffer to gain eternal life? It's a crazy idea ... Isn't it? Or is it? (Jesus did it!) Door No. 3 are those that like to sit on the fence. One day on the road to Door No. 2 and sometimes Door No. 1. It takes 100 years because there's a 50 per cent chance of reaching both doors.

There's no real easy way to decide. It's sometimes easier just to sit and watch life go by. It's tiring too. But much of life is dictated by us. We can be born into a poor family but we have a choice to make an effort to rise up from poverty. We can have wealth but choose to not give. The effort it takes to discern and to plan and to see the signs that God gives us along the way is life-consuming. We have a choice to make something of our lives. A choice that is not clear-cut from the get-go but at least allows you to move from place to place. Whether it's to Door No. 1 or Door No. 2 is the risk we take. Let's just hope the signs lead to the right way.

The choice is ours.

A man and his fruit

(written 8 March 2001, in the outside kitchen)

I walked onto a field and saw a man crying. I asked him, "Why do your tears pour?" He held a rotten fruit in his hand then said, "This was beautiful once." He buried his face into his hat. The sun was high in the sky. The wind blew without apprehension, raising the emotion of the man to the gods above. His grief was complete. He stops crying and nostalgia strikes. "I planted a tree. I took care of it and gave it my love. As it grew, so did its beauty. It had become awesome. Every day, I stood and watched it. I was careful not to touch it for it might be disturbed."

Meanwhile, the tree bore fruit. From its buds it promised a bountiful and beautiful harvest. The sun would sometimes strike it and it glistened like a phoenix out of burning ashes. "I had become afraid to pick it", the man said. But the fruit had matured and was tired of hanging and not being consumed. The fruit would be so inviting to eat at times. But the man refused the urges and was just happy to watch. The fruit thought to herself, "If my beauty should lead to mere admiration and no consumption, I shall die a decoration and not live up to my purpose." She grew weary.

As the fruit season ended, the man took to his farm chores. But when he returned, the fruit, once so beautiful and inviting, had withered like a prune. He was devastated. The fruit, lifeless, hanging by just a fiber of a stem somehow new her admirer had arrived. She can now fall. As she did, the man rushed to catch it.

This is the man that I chanced upon a field, a sunny day in May. He was the farmer who was content to see but not to get the fruit. His admiration has rendered both him and fruit useless. No fruit to harvest, no taste of his hard work. The fruit had rotted in vain. The man had cried too much. The sun was setting. "I shall not see another beautiful fruit, nor shall I raise another. I will eat only of another's and remember the one so beautiful and awesome."

brotherly advice

i was in a state yesterday and had been very hurt by a conversation i had with a loved one ... but my brother came to the rescue and offered me these pieces of advice. i would like to honour him by putting it here.

1. laughter is the best medicine
2. i can write wherever i am
3. exercise 30 minutes a day
4. devote two hours a day for my writing
5. write my book

to my ever-loving brother, attybuff, thank you!!! thank you for supporting my passion. love you very much!

grapes of wrath: dolma!

i ate dolma again yesterday. it's an iraqi dish consisting of rice with meat, tomato sauce and other arabic herbs and spices wrapped in acidic grape leaves.

i first had the taste of it when i went to iraq in 2001. i had just recently graduated from college and my mom said that i was going there for vacation! two months later, i was on an internship which she had arranged at the UNOHCI (at the Canal Hotel, the UN offices bombed in August 2003). i was outraged, i felt duped, i felt trapped. i wasn't ready ... i wasn't happy. i had been as sour as the leaves of the grapes ... that wrapped the dolma!

but the exquisite and different taste of rice wrapped in something sour is palatable. so, just like my stay in iraq, there was some good to it ... thus being the rice ... the meat, the good part of the dolma ... i had gained international experience on my first job. despite being the youngest staff at the UNDP, i was a consultant. it was glorious except that i ddin't feel at home. i bawled my eyes out every chance i got and at one point was almost ready to run away. (that's childish youth for you ...!) but i didn't. i spoke to my mom, after staying a year there, that i had had enough and that i would go back to study (which partly materialized a year later) but actually, i just missed all my friends and the philippines and of course my family.

being in baghdad though thought me a lot ...

1. you should always make time to do the important things in life, before it's too late. i never got to see the national museum which housed 2,000-year-old relics which my brothers did when they spent a month there. i had put it off so long that i had come home to the philippines in 2002 without seeing it and finding out that it had been bombed by the careless americans during the iraq invasion, i was crushed!

2. cherish your friendships ... wherever you are ... it was only the kilometric letters that i wrote to friends and those that my friends wrote to me that kept me sane. they encouraged me and told me what a blessing it was and how lucky i was to be working there. i had made several friends there and had gotten involved with some men. two wrote me poetry and one asked my mother for permission to date me. another one, i can't count because he was married and wouldn't give up until i had dinner with him. he gave me plastic flowers (he said so that it would never die) on our night out. i had to stop my laugh. that same night, we met up with other UN colleagues and laughed the night away. whether high or low, i always cherished the memories of my friends and look back at them when i feel down.

3. always strive to meet new people ... it was there that i learned to be confident. on my first day as an intern, my supervisor "held my hand" and ate lunch with me and showed me around. the following days of course i had to be on my own. so, i devised a way to sit in empty tables and waited for people to sit next to me. then i would strike up a conversation or they would. or ... i would sit next to people and strike up a conversation. there, everybody was equal ... it didn't matter if you were a PhD, or a Professional or a General Services, or whatever ... we were all migrants far away from our land, and it was bearable because there were people around and it was less lonely. i also joined the afternoon rush to the pingpong tables after office hours at the Canal Hotel. i had to wait some minutes before getting picked up because my brothers needed to be picked up first from school. this is where i met one of my friends who did computational linguistics. i was sad to know that he had been badly hurt in the bombing but he's okay now after years of recovery.

4. be thankful for what you have ... i was getting a salary higher than most entry level jobs. it helped when i repatriated. i was also very glad that some of my family was there, helping me get through. i got to know my little brothers more even if we ended up rolling and fighting on the floor. i got to play pingpong and billiards with them whenever we wanted. i also got to spend some time with my mom. although at that time, all i wanted to do was run away. i was happy that she didn't stay too long in baghdad after the war erupted. we couldn't sleep thinking if she was okay or not.

5. there's always something to do if you make an effort ... some people thought that because baghdad was under saddam's rule and UN sactions, it was horrible, it wasn't as such ... for us UN workers there, it was more like paradise (if you chose to look at it that way). although, it was sad to see the hardship of the people and the inflation. we carried iraqi dinars in black plastic bags in 1,000 dinar bundles of 100. 1 dollar was 2,000 dinars. there was a beautiful saturday market in al-mutanabi, where people sold their old books. we were able to get some there. there were also the weekly gallery openings. you'd think that since it was under sanctions, it should be dead. but the cultural life was still as high as it could get. we got to see the symphony at the opera house. we were able to visit ur, abraham's birth place and babylon and nineveh. the walls are still there. basrah in the south is home to the infamous lemon! there was the wood roasted fish from the mesopatamian rivers: euphrates and tigris. there were a thousand and one things to do.

6. make the most of what you have ... i once went to a dentist who had the honour of removing both my wisdom teeth (in a span of 6 months!!! uber ouch!) and he had a passion for the arts ... he combined this passion and his dentistry by using his drill to etch out figures and designs on a mirror. it was amazing to see. the dentist artist!

7. don't forget to smile ... because it's not as bad as it seems.

all in all, baghdad was a beautiful place. we could play on the piano inside the house that had two gardens - something i long to have now (i love gardens). i started taking violin lessons again (but my teacher decided it was better to talk during lessons and i had been remiss in my hand exercise that i couldn't extend my pinky ... hehe) ... he always gave me a nice glass of juice which had been fermented a year before, something they learned to do during the many wars that had passed the country.

i was amazed at the ingenuity and resourcefulness of the iraqis. you would never think there were any sanctions, the way the night life was ... wonderful restaurants, especially the Qasr Al-Abiad (White Castle) ... Woods ... and many more. The ice cream parlors open till midnight in Ar-Rassat, the "high street" of Baghdad. it was heaven. just like the dolma ... sourness that wraps something tasty forming a delicious and exquisite taste that melts in your mouth.

words in my blood

you writhe in my veins waiting to come out, you urge me, prod me, write me ... i follow your beckoning as i strike the keys, my heart pounding as words come out of me, i don't know what to say but it has a mind of its own, i am a mere instrument, i am a medium ... the words come alive and tells the story ... it moves me, it makes me crazy, it tells me what to do ... i am enveloped by its being, its beauty, its prose. its rhythm, its time, its magic in quotes ... i am its slave as i write these words in my blood.

isolation

the infamous adage goes: no (wo)man is an island.

the question is, if you're not an island, what type of landmass are you? are you a plateau? are you connected to a mainland that goes out to the sea or into the sky bordered by a landmass on each side except for that part which lies exposed? are you a delta? are you that little or big piece of land that rivers meet at? you are formed by their endless deposits? are you a mountain, do you jut out into the skies and hope to touch the heavens? are you a desert, dry and seared by the sun's heat? what type of continues part of land are you? are you a continent?

from where you are, how do people reach you, by boat, by plain, by bridge, by land, by bike, by foot, by any means of transportation? are you near, are you far, are you here are you there?

what am i getting at?

each person is inevitably going to cross paths with another, thus the premise that no man is an island is true. but what about those times that we close off ourselves and push people away? are we not de facto islands? are we not in that moment in time an island that sits out on the sea, waiting to be inhabited again? human existence is defined not just by the mere nativity of each person, but by the relationships each person has. sometimes, one finds meaning in the purpose of being in a community, in a family, in a group, in society, in the multitude of people divided and multiplied by one. i see a permutation table until that prime number is extracted at the bottom when divisibility is no longer possible. when at last, one is one, undivided, singular, alone.

sometimes, in times when we most feel unappreciated, when we need to heal, when we need some time, we retreat into our personal islands. we tend our gardens alone, we play alone, we bloom alone. but then we feel lonely. there's no one to appreciate the beauty, the fruits, the garden, for what is this all for?

can we move the islands closer? can we have land bridges? can there be volcanic eruptions to connect these masses? must there be such a violent formation? must we have the paratroopers on call to descend on the island?

sometimes, i feel that i'm all in between landmasses, easily accessible at times, hard to reach at times ... i'm also reflecting ... am i a permanent island? do i just let people visit me but never really inhabit me? am i afraid? do i keep people at arm's lengths because i get uncomfortable when people get too close?

but talking to my colleague ... she said ... isolation is not good. do you really want that for yourself? i think ...

i want to be an inhabited island. (CALL IN THE PARATROOPERS!!!)

lorenzo's oil: a tale of struggle, courage, persistence and unconditional love

what would you do if someone told you that nothing could be done? that there was no hope? would you stop dead in your tracks, accept fate and just leave the fight?

"Life has meaning only in the struggle. Triumph or defeat is in the hands of the Gods ... so let us celebrate the struggle!" (Swahili Warrior Song)

this was the thought-provoking opening line of the movie lorenzo's oil.

a tale of a vibrant six-year old boy ... about to start his life in this world, weighed down by a rare neurological illness called Adrenoleukodystrophy or ADL begins his life instead with a struggle ... a struggle that would leave him literally speechless, almost paralyzed and condemned to a death sentence. the doctor who diagnosed him said that usually children suffering from ADL die two years after diagnosis.

his parents could only shed a tear at that moment of truth and later put on a brave face to hug their young son.

but the parents didn't give up. they looked up all of the literature to be found on ADL. they sought out doctors who were working on therapies and enrolled lorenzo in clinical tests only to be disappointed. "this isn't how science works" they said when asked by the parents if the process could be sped up or stopped. they needed to follow a protocol. for parents with a dying child, protocol goes out the window. what kind of process would help ease the pain of imminent death?

the father augusto odone played by nick nolte describes to his wife, michaela, played by susan sarandon to treat the disease as if it was coming to a new country ... trying to understand it ... knowing it ... they conducted their own research ... nolte and sarandon found under heaps of books, finances taut, they took out a first and second mortgage on their house, but never let any ray of hope pass without taking a chance. anything, anything, there was no price they wouldn't pay to ease the pain of lorenzo, to fight this unfair battle for him.

lorenzo never gave up either. as he struggled against suffocating even from his own saliva, he grew to be 30 years old before he died in may this year.

but most of all the struggle was a collective fight. it was lorenzo's parents who never wanted go give up. sarandon portrayed to be a mother incessant in making lorenzo's life "not silent" as he promised him showered him with her love, sometimes neglecting her own health, happiness and her own husband. she made sure that lorenzo was treated with dignity by all the people surrounding him even if he lay in his bed only able to move his eyes and pinky. she egged him on, like a real mother to "tell your brain, to tell your hand, to tell your pinky to move". she gave voice to the muteness of his spirit caged in a body that was alive but almost unhuman as he was fed by tubes. his father, a "simple man" as he described himself searched for any possible lead in all that he could possibly consume in books, experience and people. their passion was infectious. his aunt who was a carrier was lorenzo's hope in testing the controversial oil (oleic acid and erucic acid - found in olive and rapeseed oil, respectively). it was his friend amori who came from the comoros who relived their youth in singing songs and just being a friend in time of need.

augusto and michaela fought against information monopoly, scientific protocols, cowardice and ignorance. when accused of arrogance, augusto defined arrogance by going back to its latin roots "to claim for one's self" as he claimed not to give up on his son as parents as the ADL foundation refused to disseminate information about the effects of oleic acid.

there was no hurdle high enough ... michaela has since passed in 2000 but augusto lives on. he plans to write a book giving tribute to the struggle of his son. he lived 30 years, 20 years more than the doctors predicted.

struggle, like pain is difficult. it's discouraging and often tiring. it's easier to give up than to keep at the fight. at what cost? for some, there's no giving up. there's only the will ... the will to live, to fight and never lose hope in the face of desparation.

i would like to salute and celebrate lorenzo's struggle and his victory. i call it a victory because his experimental treatment of oil patented by his father has improved the quality of life of so many boys suffering from ADL. it is evidence that battle was not fought in vain. that even in the face of death, there's hope.

let's celebrate the struggles of life. let us wear our battle scars proudly just to say "i made it out alive".

the value of love

it's you that give me courage to do the things i wouldn't usually do ...
it's you who makes me feel that i matter in this world ...
it's you that makes my life worthy of living ...
it's you who i can share to the world without wanting anything in return ...
it's you who give me purpose for being ...
it's you that i come to understand ...
it's you LOVE that healed me ...
it's you that makes me love so much ...

"what are your plans in life?"

boom! anna asked me one of the toughest questions in life! if i was asked that question years ago, i would have enumerated all my aspirations. i was so sure of myself then. now, that i'm older, i had a different answer. none of my "plans" materialized as i had hoped but i think they were also for the better. God had other plans. i never knew i was going to switzerland but i don't regret the fact that i did. if i had stayed in the philippines, i'm sure all my plans would have changed too.

the answer i gave was: me ... to lead the life that God wants me to ... i don't have specifics yet because i don't really know ... but i let Him drive

anna: i don't really know to what are my plans. that's the reason why i asked. hehehe. maybe i was the only one still undecided on what to do ... hahaha.. cguro kasi we are undecided kasi we have lots of possibilities. unlike others lalo na sa pinas ... yung iba even though they would like to continue studying ... they can't kasi they have to help their family ...

she was so right! i never thought of it that way. before i would just complain or come up with 1001 reasons why i couldn't do this and that ... why i had no real plans ... but the truth of the matter is ... I DO HAVE A CHOICE ... THERE IS A LOT OF POSSIBILITIES. i'm just too chicken to pursue any of them ... i'm afraid! sometimes, it's easier to stay as a victim and blame the world.

going back to my answer ... it doesn't mean just because God is driving, i'm just sitting idly by in the passenger seat either! no, i have to help navigate because i have free will. i have a choice which way to go. i have the freedom to choose.

most people like to blame God. i really regret that. most of the times, we are suffering the consequences of our actions or the misjudgements of other people. but God only has the good at heart for us. He shouldn't be some kind of whipping post. but even if we relegate that role to Him, He doesn't really curse us back.

so how do i let God lead? i try to pray about it ... and discern ... because it's difficult to tell ... i try to be responsible in my choices and act on what i can control like what job i'll apply for, which friends i should hang out with, which school to go to, what to read, etc. things i have control over.

i still don't have real concrete plans for the future but i do have short-term goals. goals i'd like to see improve in myself: i.e.

1. lose some weight!!! yes, all the pounds i lost have come back, thank God not all of them. (i would joke that i couldn't help the food coming into my mouth ... i thrust it there! hehe)

2. improve myself by reading the books i want to read or reading books that i should read. i have a pile at home just waiting to be read.

3. i'm trying to bike more ... i finally sold my little bike which was a source of insecurity every time i drove up to the office. i'd bike in a flurry to avoid people seeing my insy winsy bike. it has found a home with a dear friend who is very much happy with the state of the bike. i'm glad it has a good home.

4. learn french! - rather SPEAK IT!!! i've been here for four years and i still can't carry on a fluent conversation. it's a real shame! so, i engaged one of my friends to do a "tandem" as he likes to call it ... we exchange. he learns filipino and i learn french. one hour for each and the rest in english. three hours on a tuesday evening. i am still enrolled in french class at the office. thank God i passed the last exam. :D

5. say NO! - as i wrote earlier, i had a real problem saying "no" and it made my life so hectic that i would be so stressed out and for what? for the few praises that i would get? not worth it! i'd rather do the things i'd like to do and be happy with myself and not get an aneurism in the process.

6. continue to live life to the fullest ... i signed as a witness to a last will and testament today. it was my colleague's. death is also a very potent mover.

7. learn, learn, learn - from every possible medium - people, books, experience. as anna said "there are so many things to learn in every day life". i said "as long as we're open to it".

8. LOVE - my friend danny keeps repeating this over and over and over again ... that i just can't keep it to myself. he asked me "why are you here?" i said ... "what? here, in your office?" he said, "here in this world. wasn't it that your parents loved each other and created you?" i think so. hehe. i also bumped into the guy i was dating yesterday who danny was talking to... he felt sad for me when we "broke up" because he said that we were put on this earth to love. i think we should grab every opportunity to show love. what if you die tomorrow and you never told a loved one you loved them? or a person you admire so much? or your children, or your friend? what is the use of keeping that love to yourself? you reap what you sow. so, i try in all earnest to show love when i can. i may not be successful sometimes but at least i tried. i may not be rich but i am rich in love. :D

9. make the most of every situation - i think it was in high school (abu dhabi) that a teacher would drill in me that i was very lucky to be where i am. i didn't know if i was lucky but i think i was privileged to have moved from place to place. i suffered a lot losing friends and opportunities but i grew to embrace change. it's not so painful anymore to leave. it's still hard to say goodbye but with technological advances ... who can be far away? at a click, you're connected. (not that i'd prefer the computer version of anyone ... maybe that could work to my advantage though ... just joking) and everything can be a learning experience. once i was packing and my brother was biting my head off why i didn't come home early and pack and blah and blah and blah. i said "what good is it for you to scold me now? will it help me pack? why not just help me?" 10 per cent of what we go through is the situation itself, 90 per cent is the attitude we take to solving the problem or dealing with the situation. in retrospect, you are probably better off than most people.

that's all i can think of for the moment.

what are your plans in life?

purging ...

i think i got what she meant by purging ... it's only when we've experienced all the pain and take it out of our system that we can change ... that we are somehow cleansed by the experience and going through some kind of "refiner's fire".

i was talking to a friend today and we got on the topic of pain ... because we were talking about Hope for the Flowers and relating the parts of the book that we liked. she said that it was when pain became necessary for change.

i wrote a piece on pain in my blog before about pain being a catalyst of change ...

http://thewandererstales.blogspot.com/2006/12/pain-catalyst-of-change.html

Change of hair ...

They say that when a girl drastically cuts her hair, there's something that's caused it ... I've not had any real life altering experience but I did want to have a change ... a change of hair that is!

Laarni Lozada

She sang, she cried, she cried some more and she won ...

When I heard her audition, I think I shed a tear ... When I saw her enter the Pinoy Dream Academy, I shared in her tears. She was so broken, there were only pieces of herself to put back together again.

She wasn't ashamed to show her emotions, neither did she care. She was ashamed that she was making the others feel bad but they didn't understand her. All she needed was love but all they thought about were themselves.

I could empathize with her because I was once like her. I lived in the prison of my mind. I looked myself as an ugly being, unworthy and without talent. IT took a lot of people and a lot of love to cure me. But it worked. If it weren't for the many people who always told me "you look pretty when you smile, smile some more" ... or the other signs of building up, I will not be where I am today. I thank everybody who never lost hope in me. Who believed that I could be a better me.

I hope the same for Laarni. Now that she's the Grand Star Dreamer, I hope she will have more confidence in herself. That in her brokenness and in her imperfections, she is perfect in God's eyes, just like everybody else ... I hope that she will begin to love herself for who she is ... a very talented and blessed person, full of emotions, and full of love ... that even in the ugliness of the world, she can still be beautiful if she can only see with God's eyes.

I'll refer again to Bo Sanchez' book "7 Secrets to Real Freedom", that sometimes, we are locked in into our own prisons ... our own created limitations ...

I would say we should break out of the prison in our minds. I hope that will happen for her.

Congratulations Laarni!

Down time

Today is Jeune Genevois ... there's no work. I took this opportunity to just take it easy. The rainy weather made it easier to just sit back and relax. So that's what I did. I read a book and finished it. I've not done that for a long time. My mind was blank except for the book's content. I read Bo Sanchez "7 Secrets to Real Freedom" and couldn't put it down. I started reading in the kitchen and all the time, I was wondering whether I should go to the UPSA workshop at the Church of Latter-Day Saints. I didn't feel compelled. I had gotten up early and had readied myself early. I washed my hair, made myself up, ate lunch, did my French homework and started to read the book during lunch.

I was moved and there were times when I cried. I was worried for my makeup especially because I had put mascara on but I didn't worry, I was overtaken by the book that I didn't care.

The book talks about addictions and how we are sometimes hiddenly addicted to things and are unaware of them. Addictions according to Bo are signs of a bigger need - the need to be loved because we have empty love tanks.

There are the compulsive people pleasers - the approval addicts. There are the workaholics - who even at the failed attempted suicide of a daughter continued to work. Eventually, the daughter successfully committed suicide and the man died estranged from his wife and children. There are the porn addicts. There are all sorts of addictions that cover up for a bigger need and as what my colleague Danny always emphasizes "We are all put on this earth to love." We all need to be loved. When we don't get it from ourselves, the people we love, we try to get it from our addictions.

Love. That's been the message of this past week. And so I took time to love myself. Yes, you heard it right ... it's not bad to love yourself. Because you can't give of something you don't have. It's not being selfish, it's just making sure that your own love tank is full. You surround yourself with things that make you happy and people that lift you up. So that's what I did.

I used to be a people pleaser. I was defensive and crushed when people didn't like me. I would excel at school because I got patted on the back. While all the while, my family life was falling apart. My home was in ruins due to my father's alcoholism. It affected all of us. My mom was emotionally inaccessible, my brothers were lashing out or apathetic, I would pour all my attention towards school. I never wanted to go home. I didn't want to face the pain of what was happening. I never spoke about this until I went to college and what a liberating feeling it was when I did.

Slowly, I opened up and accepted our situation. I accepted that I came from a broken family and that it wasn't anything I should be ashamed about. It was not a scourge. That it happens. That it didn't define me and that I wasn't abnormal.

The book talks about accepting ourselves as both sinners and saints. That we don't need to batter ourselves with blame or panic, because we are two sides of the same coin. That God loves us for who we are and that God is not a vengeful God who exacts revenge everytime we forget our prayers. He wants us to be happy.

There is also toxic faith, where we rely fully on faith without concrete actions. There is also the instances where religious leaders become abusive and we have the choice to be not victims of abuse because we can take charge of our lives.

We need real faith ... The believe that God will heal us but we have to make an effor to take charge of our lives because after all, He gave us free will to choose our decisions. Stop the blame.

So that's what I did today. I had time to reflect and read and it was a wonderful feeling. I wasn't panicking as I usually do when I have nothing to do or when I don't have any where to go. I felt at peace to just sit in the kitchen, reading a book and having time to myself ... something I hardly do ... because I choose to run around like a dog chasing its tail. I'm tired of running around ... I want to see life for its beauty ... in all its slowness or fastness ... but at my pace and not the world's. I want to be me without feeling guilty or gauging my worth in the eyes of others.

This is my prayer ...

===

Reading this book opened up my eyes and made me believe that truly I'm a child of God - worthy of love. I pray that every day I will be able to accept myself - sinner and saint alike and love myself. I hope that I will be a light to others and not help them bask in their own darkness. Lord, let me be your instrument of Love and Peace - for you are the source of both. Let me not have toxic but only real faith - the belief that you alone are God but that we as intelligent human beings can take charge of our lives. That we as your children can be your true disciples. And I pray that whatever I do in life, I will be a source of love and joy for you and others as well. This I ask in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.

Which came first, inspiration or action?

"We should be taught not to wait for inspiration to start a thing. Action always generates inspiration. Inspiration seldom generates action." - Frank Tibolt

It's like who came first, the chicken or the egg. Does one actually affect the other? Or does the former pre-exist the other?

Can one think up a bright idea without a stimulus?

As I was reading Bo Sanchez's book on "7 Secrets to Real Freedom" that was the quote that struck me. Have I been waiting for that great inspiration to start living my life? When have I had my moments of inspiration?

I'm thinking of a car and the steering wheel ... is it easier to steer when the car is moving or at a stand still? Can we produce energy if inertia is at rest?

My greatest moments of inspiration usually occurred when I was observing people, if I happen to be in a jeep, watching people pass by, watching the world, walking, thinking, amidst a crowd, even at SM when the salesladies start filing in for closing time ... I often get my ideas when I'm in the middle of something and I have to stop what I'm doing to write or to act on that idea that I just got.

But sometimes, I just wait there ... sitting. Waiting for heaven to descend on earth. I'm not doing my part. I'm waiting for inspiration before acting. Like writing my book. It's been something I've wanted to do since forever. I've had many beginnings but I never really finished. My mind takes me off target and I lose heart and I wait for another burst of inspiration. But in reality, I could write about many things. I just need to sit down and collect my thoughts and find the courage to put down all that I'm thinking on paper without fear of what other people will say.

What about you? Are you waiting for inspiration to start acting?

"they don't like nice people"

i was just in the toilet (yes, i go frequently ... hehe ) and there i met one of my arab colleagues. she said "they don't like nice people ... people with good hearts". i was stunned ... what was she talking about? she was talking about all the controversies enveloping her life right now as she is applying for a promotion. she was speaking french, arab and english and i could barely understand everything. she is on her way to retirement but they don't want to promote her and she has collated some of the bad things that's been said about her. i only know her side so i cannot make a judgement. but she said, "just because they think i'm so nice, i will not fight back". i could only encourage my iraqi friend and said to ignore them, after all, she was near retirement. she said but it hurts and she points to her heart. she comments "look what happened to iraq, do you think i care about that measley little francs!"

it's true sometimes that we don't care for nice people when we want to put our agenda ahead. it happens that good people are walked on. coming from a school where oppression is not tolerated, i feel pity for her. i do hope she fights back. but she said herself that she doesn't want any trouble, not now ... it's near retirement.

why does it happen?

i used to work in a government office and i had a friend who was in the same job for 10 years. he wanted to get the promotion that he so badly needed. instead, they gave it to someone less qualified. he suspects because it was because he knew too much. it was awful because even his boss didn't stick up for him. the office was divided. it became a hostile working environment. was it wrong for him to be capable and nice, to be able to do his job competently? why are good people punished sometimes? there's a joke that says "don't do your job too well or else they will never let you go". sometimes it's true. but at least now, when the office was reorganized his post was reclassified. he was able to get the promotion that would affirm his capabilities. he deserved it! he was doing tasks for an assistant director and he was only planning officer I.

i hope that people will continue to fight for injustices that are happening around them, to stick up for what is right and to put a stop to oppression. we are all responsible in making sure that everyone is treated with dignity and respect for their human rights.

consumatum est ...

yes, it's finished! so far, the last of my commitments have finished! today is the UPSA concert and i'm glad. i didn't have to do much but it stresses me sometimes to be in information services. yes, i know i finished journalism ... but sometimes i just feel like i don't want to do it anymore. i want to write for pleasure and sometimes, i want to retreat into my own world. i don't want any more complications.

when i was asked to become publicity coordinator for the concert while on vacation in mexico, i thought many times before saying "yes". my mom already told me to say "no" because she knew it might stress me but when i saw the terms of reference, i thought, it didn't sound so bad. when i finally got down to the nitty-gritty, i started panicking as to how i could come up with the press release and contact the media in such a short time. i got back 16 august and the concert is 10 september. i had other commitments and national conferences to attend to beforehand. but God is good. i received an already prepared press release in french no less and through the help of google, i translated it into english and just edited it after. i sent it to the media and only one responded ... abs-cbn. at least we got one coverage.

bo sanchez is right ... sometimes you just have to say "no" so you can say "yes" to the more important things of life. nobody forced me to say yes. i did my responsibility and honestly it may not have been my best. but now, i'd like to take a break and just live.

i have a standing commitment with a church group that i belong to ... but i hardly get tired doing that so i continue. when i commit, i like to give my 100 percent. if i can't give that, it's not worth saying "yes".

now ... i will enjoy my freedom and just meet up with friends and see life!

if you die tomorrow ... what would you do?

tomorrow is supposed to be the end of the world as forecast by some people ... the black hole will appear ... a friend of mine asked me the question above and i said ...

i'd live.

yes, i'd simply be myself. because i try my hardest to live as if everyday was the last day of my life.

it's okay ... if i die then i do
if i don't then i'll live
life is short so why worry
do what you can today
if tomorrow never comes
then no regrets will there be.

an extra Special birthday

love. that was what i felt today. i was surrounded by so many of my closest friends here in geneva and also that i've just met but even then, they still made me feel special. we were 25 people fitting in a cramped studio and each one telling their stories and laughing and smiling and making everybody feel welcome. i wish i didn't have neighbours today so that everybody could continue in their boisterous laughter. it was so infectious and i didn't want it to stop. i felt so much joy and love in my heart for everyone that came and made it special. i felt the love even from distant lands. when i received my phone today (which i left in france during the weekend), i had 21 greetings. it was so touching. some people tried to call. some sent messages twice thinking i didn't receive it the first time. sorry guys, i didn't have my phone. for the pictures, here's the link.

http://paescalante.multiply.com/photos/album/13/my_extra_Special_bday#

again, thank you to everybody.

love you guys.

i'm allergic to dust

when my doctor told me that i had allergies and that he needed to give me some tests to determine as to what, i became curious. today, i got my answer. 25 pricks from t- to t+ i was like a pin cushion. the test was done in the morning. first, my forearm was cleansed with alcohol and numbered from 1-23 with polar ends at t- and t+. after the pricking, i was to observe which number would look like a mosquito bite. after a few minutes the t+ prick was the itchiest and was the most visibly mosquito bite looking bump. when the doctor saw me he said "you have big reactions". i don't know what that means. what he said definitely was "you're allergic to dust". i had to come back an hour later to see the second reaction. he wrote down number 14. next monday i will be going for the second series of tests to determine which pollen i'm allergic to. i wonder if it will be the same or will they actually hold up pieces of pollen up to my nose and see whichever one makes me sneeze. we'll see...

Youth and leadership creating possibilities

I was inspired by my brother's topic for his oration. So this is what I wrote.

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It was the great Dr. Jose Rizal who said that the future is in the hands of the youth. Why did he say this? Because he believed that the new generation, whose minds are still full of idealism with hope running in their veins, were the agents of change. A change for the better. A change that could lead to a better future.

What does it mean to be a youth? Who are these people whose minds are impressionable yet full of ideas for a better tomorrow? They are us. They are the teenagers who go to school, they are the young professionals who strive to carve out a career, they are the people who are on their way to adulthood. We are being moulded but we can also mould.

How can the youth embrace leadership so that we will become responsible adults preparing the way for the new generation of youth? Leadership is foremost not just being the head of a team or a captain or a leader. The greatest leader was Jesus Christ. But He never wanted to be the head of the table, He was foremost a servant. To be a great leader, you need to be a great servant. It is in the spirit of service and love for others that we create possibilities of leadership that is not self-seeking but self-giving. When a leader gives of himself, he creates a world that is not selfish and looks out for the good of others. He does not seek fame or glory for himself. He fears God and seeks to be like Him, humble yet willing to stand up for the oppressed, to stand up for what is right. He is a servant-leader.

We the youth can believe that even in our short years of existence, we can make a difference. One person can make a difference. The great leaders believed that they could and they did. It didn’t matter the great sacrifice it would entail. Jesus died on the cross to save our lives. He created the possibility of living a life without sin where repentance was an option and death of the spirit could be averted.

In our young age, we can make mistakes but we can learn from them and we can learn from the mistakes of the past so we don’t repeat history’s tragedies. We all have a choice. Do you want to be a mediocre youth floating along with no sense of direction? Or do you want to be an agent of change paving the way for a better future? It’s your choice.

Our lives are intertwined and whatever one does, it creates a ripple effect. So what kind of ripple effect do you want to impart to the world? Do you want to be a source of sorrow or joy? Do you want to be a giver or a taker or both? Do you want to love or to hate?

The possibilities are endless. You just have to make the right choice! As the slogan says, “what better time to start than now!” Let’s create the endless possibilities of youth and leadership. Let us be the agents of change. Let us be the change that we want to see in the world.

remembering teacher winnie

i remember my mom telling me that one of the judges at an oratorical contest i joined told her that i should have one that contest had i not forgotten my lines. i was 13 or maybe 14 at that time and was new to my school at pioneers in abu dhabi. teacher winnie was one of the teachers there and she was nice to me. and it so happened that she was the aunt of my future best friend cheng.

i always remembered teacher winnie as a smiling person, light to be around with and generally just nice. even after years and years of my departure from abu dhabi, i always remembered her kindness, her words of encouragement and what she told my mom. i remember her smiling in the park as we celebrated cheng's birthday. i think it was the first time i met cheng.

people like her are always embedded in my memory because she was someone who made you feel good about yourself.

when i read cheng's news that she had passed today, my chest was heavy. i couldn't breath. the news was so much of a shock. i tried to call cheng but i got her voice mail. i am so sorry that she was taken so soon and so young. she wasn't even 50.

i hope that wherever she is she is happy now. i hope that she will find rest in eternal life. i pray she is meeting God who made her so kind.

may teacher winnie rest in peace.

graffic

new word!

grabeh + traffic = grabeng traffic/2 = graffic!

remembering the Canal Hotel bombing in Baghdad

Today marks the fifth anniversary of the bombing where 22 UN workers were killed in the fatal bombing of the UN headquarters in Baghdad. One of them was a Filipina who was facially disfigured, initially declared dead but was barely alive when recovered from the rubble. Another was the head of the UN in Baghdad, Sergio de Mello. He had just replaced my former boss, Francis Dubois, as head and had Francis left two weeks later, it would have been him we were commemorating.

It's difficult to say when death will come knocking at your door. It's difficult to say in what manner you'll die. No matter how many times it's said, it's still best to live life as if everyday was your last.

I cherised many good memories in that building. I was telling my colleague that we used to play ping-pong every afternoon after work. My favorite player was Saad al-Asali. He was doing computational linguistics and I used to take linguistics and we could exchange our views on that while hitting away on the ball. There was a sort of camaraderie among the UN workers there and I'm sure like in every mission because a lot of us were far from our homes. Saad is Iraqi and he even came over to my house to play ping pong. I was very saddened to find out that he was badly hurt during the bombing. I met him in 2006 during the second anniversary and I met his family. He wasn't the same. He still had the same smile but he was hurting all over as the pieces of glass that shattered his body left him physically scarred.

It's sad to remember and it's even worse to see that Baghdad now lies in ruins. I can only blame the invasion because this may have never happened otherwise. I hope that Baghdad will soon rise again from the ashes as it always does in the centuries of attempted colonization from the Kings of Babylon to the current occupying Power. I hope the UN will play a real role in peace and not back out in the face of fear and danger. After all, it's there to accomplish world peace.

bye bye laptop

as if my laptop wanted to go on vacation too, it finally conked out on me. i'm in the philippine embassy relating this story. after my mom shut down the computer yesterday, i woke up from my sleep but my laptop didn't. it had gone into a cyber coma allowing me only to get to the start up screen and not detecting the ethernet cable. and i would receive the message over and over again after i continually "press[ed] any key".

i thought to myself, indeed now i will be on vacation eventually even cutting me off from my cyber attachments in geneva.

i tried fixing it checking if the hardware were still intact. but i only had a mini screwdriver originally designed for my eyeglasses. as i tried to unscrew the tightly screwed screws of my laptop, i found that the size of the screwdriver was quite small and that any attempt at turning it only resulted in a slippery unsuccess. so, putting my mcgayver thinking cap on, i took a piece of rubber from my phone charger to prevent the handle from slipping. SUCCESS! i was able to unscrew about six screws until i found out that i would have to disassemble the whole laptop composing of more than 20 screws! so, i gave up as my thumbs were getting calloused from the unscrewing.

we'll be checking out of the hotel on saturday and hopefully our host and i could manage to resuscitate my laptop. otherwise, adios mi laptop!

International AIDS Conference 2008 in Mexico

i'm in mexico right now primarily to see my mom and to help her give her presentation on the philippine experience on the topic of "travel restrictions on people living with HIV: going against the grain of human rights and public health". it's been an interesting experience as i move around people with HIV/AIDS and to see the human face of the disease. i have only attended two panel discussions, one which was my mom's and the other with malou marin of ACHIEVE on the topic "mobile populations and globalization." the panel is composed of around six people who relates their experiences whether as part of government, civil society, international organization or person living with HIV/AIDS.

the venue is in the heart of mexico at the banamex which is a big exhibition center next to a horse race track. the global village where most of the exhibits are situated is in the middle of the race track. it's also the registration area. with an expected attendance of 25,000 people, the tent was only half the size of the session halls where the main events took place.

===

secondly, i'm on vacation!

so far, i have only seen the city. on my first night here, i already saw the zona rosa which translated is the red light district.

we are staying in the nh centro historico hotel. as the name suggests, it's the historical center of mexico where the "templo mayor" used to be behind the palacio nacional. you can still see the ruins of the aztecs. i have yet to see it as mama doesn't have time and it's a pity to go on my own.

i was also quite touched when i kept urging my mom to go out and see some touristic sites. she said "i only came here to see you and mama mary". she was crying last night as she was so thankful that i could make it. i am so thankful too. and she keeps reminding me that she's not as young as me and even in my youth, i got so tired yesterday i slept the day off.

so, hopefully, when her conference ends, we can see some sites.

===

even if i'm on vacation, my email isn't. hehe. so, i still receive requests for things to do in the filipino community. this time i ask before accepting responsibilities so that it's clear. i like my life uncluttered and i'm trying not to expend myself at the cost of my health and my sanity. life is good and i want to keep it that way. simple and sweet.

dream, dream, dream .... dreeeaaam

we were in a hall of sorts preparing for a singing competition or concert. we were practising. i was facing a wall with bleachers and my things were spread on the bleachers. other participants would come up and talk to me and we'd exchange views.

cut scene: an office with people coming out. a place that seemed like a university. the people were on their way to the singing competition but would it breakfast first in this mess hall that looked like a university canteen. i thought i saw rae in the dream.

cut scene: i was in an office to look at something, maybe an exhibition but the floor was being cleaned or has been cleaned but the cleaning agent was still on the floor whilst, there was a meeting of organizers composed of filipinos and what seemed like spanish-looking people. i was with someone but i couldn't recognize her and we went into the office and it was slippery. the motion of my feet were circular trying to maintain my balance. each spot i tried to see that didn't have detergent or cleaning agent on it i would step to that area yet i would still catch the slippery part and again i would scramble for my balance as my feet move in circular motion. one of the organizers were trying to let us see the exhibit. finally as we were able to reach the exhibit ... (sequence ended)

cut scene: back to the competition hall there seemed to be drama. it wasn't apparent but i could feel it. i don't remember now if there was a singer missing. what i remember is coming back to the hall and meeting someone, a man who i would talk to. i don't remember all the parts of the dream now. the sequence ended at the competition hall.

another dream seqence ... of a serial killer

missy and i were in a supermarket. you could see stacks and stocks of goods that spanned floor to ceiling like a warehouse supermarket. we stood in front of a door and she was telling me of a movie her family and she had watched. we were walking around the market and i put my hand around her arm and we walked, the way we sometimes do. she told me of this movie where a serial killer commits murders and how i would have liked the puzzling nature of it. i said "why didn't you ask me then?" she suddenly squeezes her arm with my hand in it walking quickly almost to the point of running. i'm puzzled, why? so someone wouldn't see. i didn't know who. we reached round the bend and found ourselves in the toilet. i was about to enter the cubicle and she was just on her way out of the door when the serial killer - the same one we were just talking about, the one in the movie - appeared on the reflection on the mirror. (her face was familiar and i didin't know why i recognized her but i seemed to have dreamed of her too and could see that it was her - the serial killer.) i thought i had just imagined it. the killer, a woman, was standing in her towering glory, with her crooked high nose her teased black hair in front of the bathroom window. i only realized that it was true when missy didn't leave. i was thankful she was going to stay. then a little baby girl came in playing around the space between missy and her. the killer was shooing out the girl. and she managed. i went in to the cubicle but not taking my eye off the killer and missy who was now in the cubicle next to me keeping me company. i tried to go and relieve myself. i had managed to let some out and i had closed my eyes to try to concentrate then suddenly when i looked up i saw the killer taking the curtain that separated the cubicles, wrapping it around her waist and standing tall and hovering in front of missy's stall. missy was seated on the toilet with the lid down. my heart was beating so fast. the killer turned around grabbed what seemed like vials of chemicals from the ledge near the mirror, sneered in a menacing way, her lips curled at the side letting her grin reveal her evil desires, her eyes full of intent, spread her arms as if to smash the vials. horror gripped us, i screamed NOOOOOOO! then i woke up.

===

i woke up with heavy breathing and a pain in my chest. it all seemed so real because in my dream, i had dreamed of the killer sitting on the bus. i was on a bus with a friend or may even be alone, sitting in the back next to a temporarily handicapped man whose leg was in a crutch and propped himself up with crutches. he went down a certain street in front of a house where a lady was standing inside her gates looking at the bus. this lady waited anxiously for the bus and watched the man get off the bus and seated herself next to me coming into the bus door as any passenger would and then the next dream sequence above started.

wanting wants ...

it seems that when you have little you want little things. when you have a lot, you want bigger things. when you have little, you manage with what you have. when you have a lot, it still seems lacking. what's wrong?

bad habits

we watched bo sanchez talk on "how to end your bad habits NOW" last night during our super household meeting. (super household refers to the meeting of unit leaders and household leaders with the coordinators.) it talked about how people had addictions to compensate for something that's lacking in their lives. it's not the first time i heard it but what struck me is that they were overcompensating for the lack of love. their "love tanks" were empty or didn't have enough in them. and it doesn't take much to fill someone's love tank if you give them some time, some sincere encouragement and just your presence or even listening to them.

i used to be addicted to over-achieving because i got the affirmation i needed by other people. but i felt that i was never good enough for my family or for my mom. my mom would always look for the missing 1 per cent when i got the 99 per cent. but through the years, we worked our issues out and i stopped trying to get affirmation from her because she already apologized for making me feel inadequate and that i realized that she was after all human. she wasn't perfect or all-knowing as i idolized her to be. she was just mom who loved me and during her own trying times couldn't give me the love that i needed.

it took some years to work on all the times when she shunned us to hide her own pain. we suffered as her children but we were very blessed to be surrounded by other people who filled our love tanks. we had wonderful friends, titos and titas and even teachers who affirmed us and believed in us. my mom always had the best intention and she would always encourage us when she knew we could do it. actually, she was very confident in all our abilities that she didn't want to help us too much. she said that as she was growing up her parents never helped and that they were expected to fend for themselves. i guess that it's the way parenthood works. it's just a cycle. you learn from your parents.

so now, even if there are still remnants of that attention-hungry self, i turn to God who is the only one who can truly affirm us. everyone needs attention and love. it's up to us to rise to the challenge to fill someone's love tank so that they don't turn to addictions to run away from the pains they want to hide.

bo said: addiction is an escape from the painful feelings ...

another sleepless but dreamful night ...

it's been difficult to sleep ever since i got a cold and a mild pollen allergy on top of it. my sinuses are swollen and it's next to impossible to sleep at night without the help of medication. i try to sleep as early as i can so that i don't wake up in the middle of the night unable to breath or with blocked sinuses or a headache. if possible, as soon as i take the meds, i'd go right to sleep but i would need to digest my food first. hehe. i don't want to die of indigestion. :D

but even in my truncated sleep, i am able to dream: still weird dreams!

last night, i dreamed that i was going on a boat or it seemed like a cruise liner. i was on it with some friends but the only intelligible one was jazu. she was there with me. we were meeting some people. i got the impression they were nurses but i'm not really sure.

then we were separated. then i saw three little boys. two black and one pinoy. the other black boy was naked and i was teasing him that his manly parts were small. but they were only small from a far. as he got nearer me, it wasn't as small as i thought it was. he wasn't circumcised and i suggested that he get circumcised because it was a cleaner option. that was after he had managed to retract the foreskin. there was no malice in the dream and i don't even know what it means.

after that scene, i returned on deck and jazu was coming. she had a new hairstyle which suited her and made her look like toni gonzaga. i asked her where she got it, i don't remember her reply. then i woke up.

i don't know whether i dreamed it in the middle of getting up at 2.22 a.m. or at 4 a.m. when i drank my medication. i am just amazed how i can dream so often even when sleep is short.

what gifts do you have that you can use to bear fruit?

that was the reflection question in my daily Bible guide. i thought i could wait until today to write about it but i already wrote something in the guide itself last night. it made me think ... some people say i'm talented, but i'm not really sure what those talents are. one thing i'm sure of is that i can write. so, that's what i put ... writing. it's the most useful gift that i can think of to glorify Him. the others, i think are still germinating and it would take a while before it bears fruit. i'm not really sure which direction to face and if those seeds are getting enough sun light. in any case, i hope that someday i will bear the fruits that God wants me to produce. in the meantime, it's still a growing process for me.

"But some seed fell on rich soil, and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.

Whoever has ears ought to hear." (Mt 13:9)

wandering in my dreams

as far as i could remember, i've always had out-of-the-ordinary dreams. when i was younger, i would dream headless soldiers dressed in nutcracker-ish costumes running after us as we got on the back of a pickup truck or a headless priest on the back of a pickup truck. then there was the moulin rouge murderous musical. and bodily fluids in excess.

yesterday i dreamt i was on an airplane. i was in the middle east with some people i didn't really know. then all of a sudden, our old driver, duraid, in baghdad popped up holding my current hair clip. he looks at me and says, "this is all that's left. i've kept it." ... in my mind i'm thinking, aren't i wearing it. i didn't have that clip in baghdad. and then he says, "i've been trying to email you ..." then, he started asking if i knew of a job for him. i knew that he had gotten married in the midst of the US-Iraq war. then again i was on the airplane.

what could these dreams mean ...

i had dreams about aliens near a car before and many more fantastic stories only the sleeping mind can think of.

t r a c i n g m y heritage ...

i watched a rondalla from boston, massachusetts today. a rondalla is composed of stringed instruments: banduria, octavina, guitar and bajo de una. it's a remnant of old spanish culture in the philippines yet more than half a century after, it's still alive. and it's thriving not in the blood of natural born filipinos but filipinos that have grown abroad. filipinos that were born in the states.

i first played the banduria when my brother started learning it in grade 3 in the philippines. i don't remember the reason why i couldn't play in the rondalla then but my brother could. so, i learned on it when he wouldn't play it. but that was it. i forgot and then six-seven years later, i would play in a rondalla in abu dhabi. i had come as a "saling pusa" or just a sit-in but i grew to love the instrument. i grew to love the teacher. and that made me stay more than ever.

i loved playing the banduria because it was the instrument that i was really able to master. enough so that i could widow songs on it. but the instrument i bought cracked under bad weather. i wish it had kept.

seeing the rondalla tonight made me think of the past. about how filipinos abroad long to belong and they somehow trace their heritage because they are not completely one thing or the other. they are not just americans but also filipino. as we all are ... we are not just one thing or the other. i honour the kids that laboured and have embraced this filipino musicality as their own and to be so jubilant in doing so. i love seeing second or third generation pinoys identifying themselves as filipinos because they don't forget. they don't forget where they're from. they may be foreign in their mentality or foreign in their speech but in the way they look and the values they hold, it's still very much filipino.

i pray that every filipino will continuously be proud of their origin - however dark, bleak or hard. as the saying goes - ang hindi marunong lumingon si pinanggalingan ay hindi makakarating sa paroroonan. He who does not (know how to) look back at his past (where he came from) will not reach his destination. (http://iloko.tripod.com/philproverb.html).

because the filipino is a great person. he is full of potential. he is full of talent. he is resourceful. he is strong, he is many things. he is faithful, he is loyal, he is humble, he is persistent. he is an asset. he is happy. he is light. he is inspiring. he is driven. he is many things. he can be whatever he wants to be. there is no limit.

"A Wrinkle in Time" by Madeleine L'Engle

It's fantasy turned reality. It's not often that I get sucked in into a fantastic story plot that I feel the story consuming me. I could always detach myself because I knew the story was fiction. What was different with this book is that the familiar concepts of love, family, respect, patience, impatience and many more were all related with such clarity and vagueness that it was uncannily realistic.

It sounds ironic but isn't life? It's the consistency of inconsistencies and the unchanging differences that really caught my attention as I read this book. The main characters were outcasts: weird, strange and "moronic" by people's standard. Meg Murry, a lonely girl who deals with the mysterious absence of her father with much anger and treats and seems not to belong whatever she does. Charles Wallace is a little boy who doesn't know how to read yet but is so profound in his thinking he can virtually feel someone's mind and emotions. Calvin, the popular school jock that isn't comfortable in his own skin. He too is pretending to be like everyone else yet he knows he is different. Charles and Meg are from the Murry brood and has twin siblings: Dennys and Sandy, who are average at most. Mrs. Murry is a beautiful scientist who writes her missing husband every day to the amusement of the town and the post mistress who knows of her daily routine. The town believes Mr. Murry ran off with a younger lady when in fact, he "tessered" into time ... hence the title ... A Wrinkle in Time ... it's a way of traveling through time not linearly but in the fifth dimension, almost like folding paper so that one can get on one plane without crossing the "shortest" straight line between distances which is supposedly the widely accepted form of traveling.

That thinking out of the box also captured me. The life on Camazotz is very mucht the life we strive to have in this earth. A sort of status quo were nothing is ever different and we function with certain norms. We don't want to upset anyone so we try not to be "too" different. But for some people, the differences are the best ingredients of fun. For me, I admit that the monotony of life would kill me. I am one of those people who would at least try something once. Although I have my own inhibitions, I also that I could overcome them given the equation that I won't be on earth forever. Morbidity mentioned ... death is such a potent mover.

Sometimes, I feel that I've become very ordinary, in my dealings with people, in my writing, in my life. It's brought by the stability of life. Then I get sick and then there's variety. Then there's the occasional peppering of problems which could be problematic or which could just be blah. I'm thankful though that I don't have much problems right now except for that very vague concept of property and ownership and wealth: MONEY. But that too is temporal and arbitrary.

I would like to deal in terms of love ... although I would probably be one of the least wealthy, I think it would be a sort fair trade. Then again, what is the measure of love and would measuring its worth demean it? Hmmm ... maybe. What if it wasn't traded like a commodity? Maybe if it was given freely and then measured in terms of how it makes a person's life worth living? What if the world was like that? How nice it would be!

I look at you and see the beatings of your heart and feel every tick of that organ pulsating with love ... or the quiver it makes with each pain it feels. One could tell immediately what needs to be done. A dosage of love and kindness please! It would seem out of this world, even for me ... but why can't it be? Why do we hide in our little shells or put on other shells that hides who we really are? What are we afraid of? People's judgements? The world's approval ...

The book taught me that being different is good and that we all have our strengths in them. This is something we all probably know. But it was a gentle reminder that indeed even in the most chaotic of differences and changes, lies the gem of uniqueness.

of french and interviews

today was a challenging day. in the morning, i had my french oral exam and in the afternoon, i had a job interview. on top of that, at the back of my mind, i was thinking about how my mom was doing. she's still in hospital and is recovering from gastro and has been diagnosed with ischemia - a heart condition. i used to think my mom was invincible but as she gets older, she's showing signs of frailty. i know it's normal. she can have whatever disease, as long as i die before her! i know that's asking a bit much but it just shows how important she is in my life. she's our only parent and it's difficult when she get's sick because we become orphans twice over.

===

on my french exam, i conjugated my verb wrongly and i kept repeating it. i wonder what it was like for the examiner to hear someone say "j'allerai" about three thousand times instead of the proper "j'irai". oh well ... i can't take it back now and i am trying my utmost to practice it. i guess maybe i should just get a french-speaking boyfriend as was recommended the first time i came here. maybe not~! hehe. hopefully, in that 15 minutes of describing a picture with my partner dmitro, we were able to make sense. he had to describe a young lady walking off into the sea. i had to describe a lady with her back turned to us. i just imagined she wanted to have a kid of her own that's why she was looking at her niece.

===

i had my job interview too. i hope i didn't appear overconfident and that what i said was true because my boss was there too. she kindly reminded that i'm just "one of the favorites" for urgents. i hope that they will see it as confidence and not overconfidence. i had to use some french too because they asked how my french was.

===

well, that's it for now. it was stomach churning but all in all, not life threatening so i guess i still have it blessed than most. i have nothing to complain about! i'm just glad it's all over. mama might be coming out of hospital tomorrow. i don't have to think about french for a while except to leisurely learn it on the street or whenever i can. as for my job, they said it's all just a formality. i can never be too sure. i just pray that all will be well.

Following your passion

I've never heard such a loud message in my life as this - FOLLOW YOUR PASSION. Since February, when I first gave a talk to a group of Singles for Christ in Milan, Italy, I've been bombarded by the messages of living life with passion, of pursuing your passion of making God your passion. I came back from that Empowerment Weekend with a certain high. I felt the passion in my life.

But what is passion? Is it just that torrid kissing scene in the movie? Is it that burning heat between two lovers? It's more than that! It's a strong commitment to a cause or someone. Commitment being a conscious decision and not just a fleeting feeling.

I've never really been a prolific speaker but when I get passionate about something, I can talk on the topic forever. One of the topics that really gets me going is the topic of GOD. Ever since I was small, I've always been drawn to the Church. I always gave the rites and sacraments so much importance and if I could follow it to the letter, I would. But of course, that was just the mechanical Catholic in me. It was not as meaningful as it could be. It wasn't lip service either. I truly believed that by following the rules and regulations of religion, I could claim salvation. Was I wrong! My life as a wanderer has taught me that the golden rule of "Do unto others as you want others to do unto you" is possibly the best way to prove your love to God and to begin the journey of faith and salvation.

There ... I started talking about something that was close to my heart and I could go on and on.

Going back to my talk on passion ... in February it was the Power of Passion, then Mama gives me a book on "40 Stories of Passion" of people who continue to feed the fire in their bellies in serving God and humanity. Then my recent talk on Discovering Your Passion - not just for your life partner but most importantly to God - the source of all passion and love.

Last Wednesday, I chanced upon a reflection on creativity and passion which remembered Madeleine L'Engle and her most renowned works and how one must discipline himself to write. I also opened up a book telling me to write my own book. Then as I was walking to church, a leaflet was on the sidewalk and it said "Follow your passion". It was too uncanny!!! I picked it up (even if it was dirty and was a Marlboro advertisement). God works in mysterious ways and I have neglected my writing for a long time.

So, I thought what was God telling me? I have never been so passionate in my life as to talk about God. There are other things that I could do for a lifetime but I don't know what am supposed to do to bring out the passion in me. I know I should write, but write what? I know I have many thoughts that could better see light than be stored in my dimly lit mind.

It's still one big question mark. I've buried all passion in my life that I don't know which one I should pull out. I have been just okay but just okay is not enough. As from the talk, we should strive for excellence in everything - note in everything, whatever it may be.

So ... hopefully by writing here, I am making a step towards fulfilling that passion and feeding that fire in my belly that hopefully will enkindle other souls. I want to burn with passion for what I do in life, I want to burn for God.

The final message of my talk is: Live life and love with passion!

broken bodies

Overseas Filipino Workers have always held a special place in my heart. I have witnessed so much of their hardship through my stay abroad and as I watched my mom coming to their aid - in the Middle East particularly.

I consider myself lucky that I am part of the more blessed OFWs with a legitimate working contract and a resident permit in Switzerland.

I honour all those OFWs who have stayed away from their families for so long and have eked out a living sacrificing their own loneliness to send enough for their families to live comfortably back home.

For all those OFWs, this is my little tribute:

Broken bodies
Broken lives
Broken spirits
for a family back home
in tact.

of gossips ... and their kingdoms ...

some people get lost in the seabed of gossips, floating in and out of the lies and the fantastic stories that they create for themselves and for others ... almost like new looking glasses to see the world through, certainly colourful but murky at best, not seeing the true outlines but the soft blurs of the beautiful lies ...

some people see it as a compulsion to gossip, to create this weave of stories that they choose to see of other people and of themselves. sometimes, they like themselves to be the bearer of news, good or bad, of the source, of the mouth that whispers to people's ears so they can hear what they want to hear ...

like a kingdom of some sort, they create their domain, where all are their subjects and slaves and they are the rulers!

of wanderers ...

it seems that if you search "wanderer" on google, tons of web pages and blogs will come out containing that term ... i guess there are a lot of people on this journey called life and they see themselves as wanderers, looking for a final destination, or just going with the flow, but nonetheless, travelers that wander ...

i guess i'm one of them. i don't exactly know where life is taking me or where i'm taking my life. i like to think of myself as a wanderer looking for answers ... and since i travel a lot and have traveled most of my life, i see that my physical travails are part of a journey to a destination whether it be to find my purpose in life or to find out who i really am. i don't know where it will lead me or what tales will come out of it but it reassures me that there are people that share my journey ... kindred wanderers in spirit.

Capturing grief

I wanted to take out my phone ... to take a picture ... but I couldn't do it. I couldn't or I didn't want to capture the tattered pieces of a the UN flag that was blown away by the terrorist attack at the Algiers office because I thought it irreverent to do so. I tried but shame got the best of me.

Amidst the wailing of one of the relatives, the official eulogy by the Secretary-General, the somber atmosphere of the black-clad audience, it was too forward to take a picture to take a souvenir for myself. It would be selfish.

The pictures of the victims were put in frames that were spread across the General Assembly hall. Eighteen of them died in the tragic event. Most of them were Algerian but there were international staff too.

They are:

Mustapha Benbara
Karim Bentebal
Saadia-Lamia Boucelham
Hind Boukhroufa
Mouloud Bouldrouah
Samia Hammoutene
Chadi Hamza
Abderrahim Hanniche
Mohamed Khelladi
Mohamed Lasli
Ma Gene Luna - Filipino
Babacar Ndiaye
Steven Robin Olejas - Danish
Djamel Rezzoug
Kamel Sait
Hakim Si Larbi
Nabil Slimani
Adnane Souilah

Each family representative lit a candle in front of the pictures and one could hear the sorrow in each sob. Beside me were UN colleagues that shared the families' bereavement, wiping away teardrops and silently weeping.

No one clapped at any speech including that of Ban Ki-Moon. It was too solemn. He respectfully bowed after his speech. Bowing in front of their pictures. When he unveiled the tattered flag, my heart wrenched in its place. What I felt was nothing compared to the loss of those families. The flag had only three remaining pieces. The logo of olive leaves barely noticeable as only the leftmost part, the central lower part and the slightest sliver of the olive branch at upper right in the second quadrant of the flag was superimposed on a separate cloth outlining how the flag should look. He then bowed in front of the flag.



Death comes like a thief in the night ... it's a saying that is often true. Gene had just transferred only a week before from her mission from Afghanistan then to Algeria when the attack happened. Nobody can really be sure when they will die. And even in the most secure places, death comes like a blanket snuffing out the living.

What I feel is nothing compared to the family. I share in their grief and hope that their loved ones who died in the service of the UN will see the peace that they all worked so hard for.

"the best leader comes from darkness ..."

that's what a friend of mine said last night while we were having dinner. i was very surprised when he said that but as i reflected it on it, it was actually very profound and true. i was also taken aback to hear it from him. he used to be a loud-mouth, marijuana-smoking, arrogant guy. he's now the mission volunteer for a church group i belong to. it's really a wonder how God uses everyone to deliver His message.

going back to what he said ... he explained it himself ... how can a leader without any taint counsel another when he doesn't know where a certain person is coming from? it's when you've experienced that darkness in your life and coming out of it into the light can you really serve as an example.

i'm not saying that we should all go to the dark but it's just that when we see people turning away from past destructive habits and becoming the beacons of light that they are now, it's a stronger message and a more powerful testimony. i don't mean to discount anybody's experience. i just feel that what my friend said holds so many truths. we can only truly know the difference between bad and good when we've lived and felt both like what our priest said ... a cup only knows its fullness when it's empty.

light can only be bright in the presence of darkness.