my continuing love affair
I spent this beautiful day in Central Park.
After years of fearing nature, I finally got over it and let myself lie on the grass, unprotected, to enjoy the cool breath of the ground under the bright sun. I curled up, closed my eyes, took in the spring breeze, and fell asleep. I have never done anything like it in my entire life. If I had, I was probably too young to remember.
I woke up to the sound of childish giggles. I opened one eye and saw that a little girl, around two years old, was shouting, "Daddy, down!" commanding her father to crouch down so that she could tackle him. They were playing "pretend football," and the gracious father had submitted to his little daughter's victory. It put a smile on my face.
I looked around and realized that the field was packed. I spent a good 30 minutes just watching people, wondering what my life would be like if I were in their shoes. I wondered if I would enjoy playing volleyball under the scorching sun, wearing nothing but a skimpy skirt and a bikini top. I wondered if I would be laughing hysterically at something that the person on the other line of my cellphone was saying. I wondered if I would be happy and content all by myself, lying flat on the grass, looking up to the sun. I wondered if I would feel ecstatic over hitting the baseball my father threw at me. I wondered if I, too, would be oblivious of the whole world as I licked the ice cream that had dripped on the back of my hand.
I wondered why I never knew that experiencing things through other people could be this enjoyable.
As if all those sights weren't enough, on my way home on the elevated subway, something took my breath away. I saw, for the first time after living in this place for one whole month, the sun descending behind the Manhattan Skyline. Apparently, the tracks from the Queensborough stop to 39th Street gave you that view. It was exhilarating.
Now that the weekend is coming to a close, I sit in front of my laptop and wonder, "I've done no homework! What productive thing have I done this weekend? Have I accomplished anything?"
The answer is a simple YES. In the park, I finally got back in touch with nature. In the rich green field, I lived vicariously through numerous people. On the train, I discovered that it IS possible to enjoy a beautiful sunset even if you're in a moving vehicle.
New York sure knows how to keep the honeymoon stage alive. How can I ever leave it?
Shoot The Moon
The summer days are gone too soon
You shoot the moon
And miss completely
And now you're left to face the gloom
The empty room that once smelled sweetly
Of all the flowers you plucked if only
You knew the reason
Why you had to each be lonely
Was it just the season?
Now the fall is here again
You can't begin to give in
It's all over
When the snows come rolling through
You're rolling too with some new lover
Will you think of times you've told me
That you knew the reason
Why we had to each be lonely
It was just the season
Ang sakit namang malaman na ginamit ka lang ng isang tao sa panahon ng kalungkutan.
Ngunit ito ang totoo: lahat ng bagay na masakit ay TUNAY NA KINAKAILANGAN SA BUHAY.
finally, i'm home
For the longest time, I've wanted to have a place of my own. It's the non-Filipino gene within me. I've wanted to move out of my parents' house since I got out of high school. This is not to say that my parents are horrible. In fact, they're great. They gave me all the freedom I wanted when I was with them. Still, like I've repeated many times, "There's a certain dignity to being alone."
In my own place, I have my own space to do what I want. I don't have to tiptoe around and worry about the littlest things that I want to do, such as what I want to cook, when I want to wake up, and when I want to clean up or simply be a slob.
Having my own place, I can go home anytime I want, and leave when I please. I don't need to report to anyone, or justify my actions to anyone.
This place of solitude has brought out a sense of responsibility from in me. I do my laundry when I think I should. I maintain the place because it's for my own good. I find myself investing on "house stuff," even if it is expensive, simply because this is the first time that I can call this house MY OWN.
It's only been a month, and I'm sure it won't always be this euphoric, but for the meantime, I'd like to soak myself in the happiness that is found in true, honest to goodness independence.
Besides, when you think about it, anything that forces me to learn how to cook CAN'T be bad, right?
nostalgia
On a journey of the heart
There's so much to see
When the sky is dark
You'll be right here...right here with me
Damn, I miss the Philippines...
what matters most
Paola was the one who introduced me to this poem. Now that I'm at this point in my life where I'm meeting more and more people in a foreign land, it makes sense to read this again to remind myself of what I really want to know about my new acquaintances.
The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
absence makes the heart grow...lazy?
Today, I realized why teachers shouldn't be absent from class.
Everyday, teachers force students to learn by motivating them to love the lesson...by giving them a reason to WANT to be in class, and consequently, to NOT WANT to miss a second of learning with the teacher. The teacher uses MAGIC to turn a supposedly dry lesson into the most exciting thing in the world.
How can a teacher do that if s/he is not in the classroom?
You want to learn how to lead by example? Be a teacher...one that's never absent, that is.
What a tough job I chose. It is one where calling in sick should NOT be an option.
