monday fantasies

if money were not an issue, i would be working at some quirky neighborhood coffeeshop or in an international airport (a regional hub preferably. cannot be in manila).  such warmth, vibrance and energy in these places, don't you think so?

the frenzy of the comings and goings of the travelers in the airport excites me.  i think it's hard to get bored there, especially if you enjoy people watching. if it's in frankfurt airport, i'd be riding a bike inside its wide halls like its workers do, spotting kababayans and engaging them in chit chats while they wait for their flights.

btw, i have decided i really like our village simply because 
i get to see up close everyday on my way to work 
the airplanes on the runway,  ready to take off. 

i always think about the people inside those planes.  

are they excited about going away or going home? 
coz i would be. 

coffee. its aroma never fails to transport me to a beautiful place, even if i'm smack in the middle of harrison plaza (which is not the kind of place you want to preserve, even if it's the first mall in the country, trust me.).

hmmm...
why not run my own coffeeshop?  i'll call it "brew ha" LOL.
maybe "Kina Joe at Frankie" KJF.
 ang bagong hangout ng mga taxi drivers & minimum wage earners.
walang ingles2x. tagalog or bisaya 'pag nag-take ng order.

Or, or, and/or, sell artisan chocolates.  premium dark only, 70% up.  

what's the brand name going to be?  "ellen's"!  
(zak, that won't sell, i'm telling you.)  
wait, i think i'm going to call it "Lily".  

but if you get to build your own brand of chocolate someday son, 
you can name it after me :)

bliss. ain't it bliss.

two saturdays ago

600h, 12Feb, Air Force City

love, actually

"Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. 

When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love, actually, is all around.”

- opening lines from the movie "love actually"

3 stories

Sunday's newspaper was filled with stories about marriage - failed, recovering and flourishing.  

One story was of a socialite who finally gave up on her husband who had already left her (anyway) for someone she knows so well, a friend in her prayer group.  the betrayal of betrayals.

another story was of the wife of a famous sportsman who have had some very public affairs, the latest of which was so intense it almost permanently tore their marriage apart. but it didn't, and the Affair ended and the marriage survived.

the last one was by Rica Bolipata-Santos, about her marriage that has just turned 16. 

if the other two stories sowed fear and cynicism, hers gave inspiration and warmth with her moving testimony of the beauty of the deepest intimacy.  she wrote about love and its many manifestations in her marriage:

"..looking at him as he changed a tire in the car, exhausted from the day, I realized how wonderful he was — that he could change a tire. Such a useful thing compared to my own gifts. How grateful my heart that someone as flimsy as me could have him to anchor me. "

"In our fourth year, I lose so much blood that I collapse into his arms. His words to me right before I slip into unconsciousness: “Do Not Leave Me.” A command, not a whisper. His own realization that my frailty was a thing that only he could fully witness. No one else has seen how weak I truly am."

"On our first month of marriage, I spoke of how unhappy I was at work and he cried."

"The crazy, impulsive choices I’ve made, the disasters we can both predict, but am allowed to take, an absolute gift. And to hold each other when others die..."

"In the 12th year, facing each other in a public place listing what we did not like about each other, laughing — the honesty of such an exercise. There is relief in the heart that one can say the most awful things and still be loved."

Love is such a beauty, if you care enough to recognize it. And she does.

Wrapping up her story, this is what she had to say:

"To be in a marriage is to stand the test of time together, by choice, until death do us part. It is lunacy, really — to counter the natural tendency of all things to become old and ordinary. But it is this very lunacy that makes it extraordinary."

I intend to write, anniversary after anniversary, that same conviction about marriage and of my utmost gratitude for the love shared with the man who is the Constant in my life.  

Everybody's free to Wear Sunscreen

I was reminded of this song (or is it spoken word?) with an unforgettable lyrics when a friend posted snippets of it on his FB wall. So I googled it, and I found out that the lyrics was actually lifted from the column of Mary Schmich in the Chicago Tribune.

The song talks about life reminders (in imaginary bullet points) and I remember how I liked it so much. I was thinking, these are the words of wisdom I'd like to pass on to my kids. (i think i had zaki then already. because i remember hearing this song in our revo. zaki came before the revo.)

I also got smitten even by its simple yet overlooked one-worders ("Floss").

Plus I guess I have this infatuation for 'bullet points'. I think it's a great invention. It makes ideas easier to digest, especially for people who have no patience and skill to mine them from lengthy paragraphs. 
But I digress.
Here's the sunscreen song:

"Wear Sunscreen"

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '98: Wear sunscreen. 

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

• Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine. 
• Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind side you at 4 PM on some idle Tuesday. 
• Do one thing every day that scares you. 
• Sing. 
• Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours. 
• Floss. 
• Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself. 
• Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how. 
• Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements. 
• Stretch. 
• Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't. 
• Get plenty of calcium. 
• Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone. 
• Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's. 
• Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own. 
• Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room. 
• Read the directions, even if you don't follow them. 
• Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly. 
• Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. 
• Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future. 
• Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young. 
• Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. 
• Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. 
• Travel. 
• Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders. 
• Respect your elders. 
• Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out. 
• Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85. 
• Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth. 

But trust me on the sunscreen.

She

She doesn't know it, but to me she's the most enlightened parent in the world.  I wouldn't even want myself (especially my teenage self) for a daughter but I think she handled me pretty well.  In the hands of a less capable parent, a stubborn, reckless, insecure teenager like I was would self-destruct in no time. But I came through, if I may say so myself.

She has always been a selfless parent.  She let neither her fears hold me back nor her expectations define me. She let me live my life, even if I wasn't worthy of that kind of trust.  That's because she had no illusions about living my life for me; and because she was ready to bear whatever the consequence, the likeliest being disappointment and heartbreak.

When the disappointments did come, she indulged some tears but kept her trusting stance.  Thankfully, I eventually managed to grow up.  More important,  I have come to love my life, warts and all, with no regrets, bitterness and what-ifs.  And that, I hope, made her heartbreaks even just a little bit worth it.

My life is blessed because of the life that she has been living: that of sacrifice, unconditional love and faith.  My life is unfolding the way it is because of the prayers she keeps in her heart.

If I can make my heart as big and brave as hers, develop discernment as deep as hers, blessed even more are my husband and children.

Happy birthday Ma!

take two

i don't have anything in particular to write about right now.  but i need to post something because i've been making it a point to do an entry a week.  and i can't afford another area of dismal performance because i have already been feeling like an epic failure with my NY list.

so sorry so soon, right?   i also can't believe it, as i watch myself violating my list day after day after day since the time i wrote it, and it's not even February yet.  the resolve is not supposed to wane this early.  and to think i felt my list was such a baby. you know, sleep early, be on time, wear make up...  chicken, right? apparently not for me.  

how about you?  hope you're faring much better than i am.  (or lucky you if you didn't make a list)

i should have probably just stuck with the one-word theme for the year like i used to. sounds simpler.  it's like setting a guiding principle of what you yearn to master for that year. it's just a theme, so it's hard to tell if you're keeping/doing it or not (guilt evasion scheme). but your gut will tell you. guts don't B.S.

so mine last year was authenticity: to know my self better, enjoy that self, be really that self.   but as you can see, i have managed to come up with a loong list of things i need to change about myself last Jan 1.  so i guess i failed in my quest for authenticity too haha*  (just let me wallow in this sense of failure.  i can take this)

but i still want to have a theme for this year,  or make it two coz i'm retaining authenticity.  i was thinking of 'Depth'.  that's the word that popped in head while i listened to my pastor's sunday talk.  i was thinking: i love this church, i love how it re-focuses me to the essential matters of life, i love how it makes me want to become a person with a sense of mission and meaningful burdens.

then i realized i like it when i connect to my deeper self, when i'm not too engrossed with the mundane.  i want to have that not only when i'm in church. i want that to be a mainstay feeling.

but then Monday beckoned.

you know Mondays. they're not cuddly like Sundays.  and unfortunately, i need to contend with, like, 4 mondays a week (i'm counting out friday).

you also probably know how it's a challenge to stay in touch with the deeper self in an 8 to 5 work setting. so much stimuli.  so by barely mid-monday, i slide back to mundane.  at the rate i'm going, how could i possibly do deep 7 days a week?

maybe i don't really want deep (cop out!)

maybe i just want to be kinder.  to be consistently and effortlessly kind.  because i hate it too when i b*tch. it's so lowly.

kindness. it's warm and fuzzy and has more practical use in the world than depth.  you can even kill with it.

authenticity + kindness. maybe this is what my loong chicken list really is all about.

(Photo not mine. stumbled upon it 2 years ago while surfing aimlessly)

* at this point, i can imagine my mother saying: but you're still being yourself. you're just trying to become your best self.