Alive [Photo Hunt]

@ mirandablue

Leathery polypore mushrooms I found on a dead log.  It's interesting that these mushrooms are alive and thriving on this lifeless piece of wood.  I read that mushrooms have the ability to produce compounds to prevent disease (like decay) to its host. In a way, these mushrooms keep this log "alive" so they can also live.

@ mirandablue

Near the entrance of a cave I visited last summer, this plant grows in a crack between rocks and lives on little sunlight and moisture.  Amazing how life can flourish even in an inhospitable environment. Like us, it adapts to stay alive.

Posted for Photo-Hunt

Rest in peace, Tita Cory

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

~ Kahlil Gibran

It has not stopped raining, its as if the heavens are also mourning the death of Cory Aquino. I woke up this morning to the news of her death, and I shed tears for Tita Cory, as she was fondly called by Filipinos. A few days ago, my colleagues and I even talked about her over coffee, about her illness and her legacy, and we knew that death was imminent. But even as her passing was not unexpected, it is still astonishing to know that the icon of our democracy was truly gone, forever.

Tita Cory became the first woman president when I was 21 years old. I didn't understand women's empowerment until Cory ran for president and EDSA Revolution toppled the Marcos dictatorship. Democracy for me at that time was just an idea, a big word I overheard from family debates at the dining table. Even when my brother became an activist and went to the mountains, I couldn't appreciate what he was fighting for. Tita Cory opened my eyes to the possibility of an ordinary person making a difference, and that freedom and peace are inseparable.

Because of her moral leadership, simplicity and sincerity, Tita Cory endeared herself to many Filipinos. She embodied the standards that we should all hope to achieve in our lifetime---privileged but selfless, simple yet strong, unassuming but decisive, prayerful yet practical. Politics did not shape Cory Aquino, her indomitable spirit was inherent long before she became president. I admired her unshakable faith, her grace and love for this country.

It is a sad day for Filipinos who have lost an inspiring person, but I am relieved that death had finally ended her suffering. Rest in peace, Tita Cory.

Faith is not simply a patience that passively suffers until the storm is past. Rather, it is a spirit that bears things---with resignations, yes, but above all, with blazing, serene hope.

~ Cory Aquino

Our Deepest Fear

Banica River, Valencia, Negros Oriental

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other
people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,

we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,

Our presence automatically liberates others.

~ Marianne Williamson

Musings of my older self

What would you do right now if you learned that you're going to die in an hour? Would you race to your room and light that joint you've been hiding in your underwear drawer since Martial Law? Would you run into your boss' office and give him a detailed description of his personal defects? Would you drive out to the finest steakhouse and order a T-bone, medium rare, with an extra side dish of really bad cholesterol? It's hard to tell, of course, but of all the things that we might do in our final hour, it's safe to say that few of them are the things we really did today.

This reminds me of an advice I hear so often---live every minute of your life as though it were your last. The things we do when we expect to live longer are naturally different from the things we might do if we expect to die soon. We go easy on the fats, booze and cigarettes, laugh dutifully at yet another of our boss' stupid jokes, work until midnight when we could be sitting barefoot in the garden and eating chocolates in bed, and we do each of these things to benefit the people we will soon become. 


I plead guilty to the things mentioned above. I treat my future self as though it’s a kid, spending most of my time building tomorrows that I hope will make that kid happy. Rather than indulging in whatever strike my fancy, I take responsibility for the welfare of my future, saving away portions of my paychecks each month so I can enjoy my retirement, try to exercise and having my blood sugar checked regularly so I avoid heart disease, diabetes and whatnot. When I want something---a car, a beach house, a promotion, a quarter-pounder, a partner---I expect that if I get it, then the person who has my DNA, will enjoy the world she would inherit from me, revere my sacrifices as she reaps the harvest of my clever decisions and dietary restraint.

I don’t have children but I’ve been hearing parents complain how ungrateful some children are. And like those ungrateful children, most of us are often thankless to our younger selves. We drag ourselves to work everyday to give our kids what we think they like---only to be accused 20 years from now that we have ruined their lives.

No one enjoys being criticized, but if the things I successfully strive for do not make my older self happy then it seems reasonable to cast a mocking glace backward and wonder--- what the hell I was thinking?! How can this happen? Shouldn't I know the desires, tastes, needs and choices of the person I will be next year, or at least later this evening? Shouldn't I understand my future self well enough to shape her life---to find careers and lovers whom she will cherish, to invest in things that she will treasure for years to come? So why does she end up with treasure chests and a life that are full of stuff that I considered indispensable and that she considers painful, embarrassing, or even useless? Why does she criticizes my choice of romantic partners, second-guess my strategies for career advancement, and pay good money to remove the tattoos that I paid hard-earned money to get? Why does she experience regret and relief when she thinks of me, rather than pride and appreciation? Is there something wrong with her?

Or is there something wrong with me?

"The future is an opaque mirror. Anyone who tries to look into it sees nothing but the dim outlines of an old and worried face."

~ Jim Bishop

Ponce Suites, the "unconvention" center

the Philippine Eagle guarding the hotel entrance

For Davao artist Kublai Millan, having a family-owned hotel to exhibit his art must be a dream-come-true. Ponce Suites in Davao City showcases the work of its artist-in-residence, from the sidewalk outside the hotel to every nook and cranny of the building. I read about Ponce Suites many years ago so I kind of know what to expect…but when I saw the massive sculptures, my reaction was---whoa!

My flight to Davao left Manila at 4:20 am and touched down a little before 6 am. I had no sleep, stressed from the chaos in the newly opened Terminal 3, tired and hungry, my guards were down---that the riot of colors in the lobby, walls, and hallways overwhelmed me when I entered the hotel. The first thought that came to mind was---Wow, he really let himself go! Artworks are crammed everywhere---even at the ceiling, the interior is definitely one of a kind, I've never seen anything like it. As I stood in front of the framed hair cuttings (presumably the artist’s), I wondered if the interior of the hotel has been an outlet of a mental health issue (hehe). But really, in an age of chaos, I understand how some people embrace the chaos theory.

As much as I’d like to be a minimalist, in reality, I am a clutterist. And walking around the artwork-filled hallways and stairways, I was able to appreciate how good it is to be surrounded by the evidence that you have lived a life, created something; that you have moved around and seen things, that you have collected things along the way, that you have sentiments, sadness and joys that you were able to express. And that’s what Kublai Millan did...he expressed them all in this little hotel. Lucky guy!

Ponce Suites seem to grow on you. The artworks definitely give it a unique appeal. I’m not an art connoisseur or an artist---I just follow my instincts with things that stimulate my senses. And frankly, some artworks on the walls are just a swirling mess of anything to me---but I know that they have a complex shape and order, I just don’t get it (hahaha). Those sculptures and the entire art-covered surfaces, not all of them beautiful by any means, but each are clearly there for a reason.

artworks on the wall

the hallway

at the lobby

poetry and photos of the artist in various state of nudity

the framed hair cuttings (right)

gigantic sculptures outside

this must be the artist---coming out of his shell

hallway outside my door

photographs as wallpaper

Sky Watch Friday: Paradise Island

sunset at Paradise Island Resort, Samal Island, Davao del Norte

Most of us miss out on life's big prizes. The Pulitzer. The Nobel. Oscars. Tonys. Emmys. But we're all eligible for life's small pleasures. A pat on the back. A kiss behind the ear. A four-pound bass. A full moon. An empty parking space. A cracking fire. A great meal. A glorious sunset. Hot soup. Cold beer. Don't fret about copping life's grand awards. Enjoy its tiny delights. There are plenty for all of us.

~ United Technologies Corp. ad

For more Sky Watch photos, please visit Wiggers World.

What's funny, anyway?

Daranak Falls, Tanay, Rizal

I don’t know about you but I laugh at myself regularly. It makes life seem less of a struggle. I know a lot of people who take themselves and their lives too seriously that they refuse to admit the absurdity of some of the things they do and say. Not that everything in life is a laughing matter. But I’m sure you meet people who have a chip on their shoulders.

I have a friend who spends much of her time complaining how everyone in her office is talking behind her back. She’s incapable of shrugging off even the most inconsequential things. She’s crabby, touchy, angry and self-righteous. Ewwww! I hope it’s not you!

It takes courage to laugh at oneself. I feel less tension, less worry and I feel so much better when I laugh at myself. It gives me the ability to put things in their proper perspective.

I have a co-worker (I hope he’s not reading my blogs! hehehe) who is almost incapable of poking fun at himself. He has a certain image that I guess he had worked very hard to maintain, and the harder he tries, the sillier he seems to the rest of us in the office. Laughter is a gift. I guess God must think some parts of life are pretty funny, or He wouldn’t have given us a sense of humor.

One advantage of laughing at yourself is that you don’t hurt anyone in the process, and you may just brighten someone’s day through some self-depreciating humor. I know some people who are highly sensitive….they’re insecure, and laughing at them is cruel. So I’d joke about my own eccentricities. It’s like releasing a built-in safety valve…and steals power from my troubles.

Joan and Don talking about the brids and the bees :D

Desperation can make some of us too serious. We see every first date as a life-or-death situation. We tense up on meeting new people, terrified of making a bad impression. We try too hard because it feels like the fate of the world depends on whether this person likes us or not. But really...it's not who you are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not. I got that from an [old], wise friend.

"When people are laughing, they're generally not killing each other." ~Alan Alda

It took me a long time not to judge myself through someone else's eyes. I used to be my own worst enemy, but living on my own for years has taught me to become my own bestfriend. I’m more comfortable with who I am. I like the person I’m becoming, and brave enough to admit my own quirks. One of life’s greatest accomplishments is to learn to like who you see in the mirror. When you’re self-assured enough to laugh at yourself, you’ve made real progress toward that goal.

Life is good!

I had a nice weekend. It was well-deserved after a hectic, frustrating, and annoying work week. Fritz’ growls woke me up late Sunday morning…my poor, little doggie was trying to climb the stairs to my bedroom. He was on the 3rd step and was getting very frustrated---his clumsy hind legs were getting in the way. I guess Fritz was tired of waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs so he decided to wake me up.

I was actually dreaming…a chaotic, hysterical dream. In my dream, my grandmother [who passed away more than 20 years ago] was having a mahjong party. Everybody was smoking, in retro attire, and the room looked like a stage of Eat Bulaga in the 80’s, with strobe light and artificial smoke. Thankfully, there was no Tito-Vic-and-Joey! I was fanning my grandfather [who died in 1976] with peacock feathers, then a disheveled woman sat down beside me and told me that she’s my biological mother and my real father is George Clooney. I was shocked, and all I could say was, “Tito George is my real dad?”…Yeah, Tito George because George Clooney is a family friend! Imagine that! Hahahaha So I was adopted! I was ecstatic that finally, there’s somebody who can prove that I was adopted! Oh jeezzz!

bridge of sigh

When I told my mother about the dream while we were having Sunday lunch, she laughed and said it’s too bad that I’m stuck with them (my "adopted" family) because George Clooney is too busy with his Hollywood career and the war in Darfur. Oh, Mother! That’s what you get from watching too much CNN and E! True Hollywood Story!

George Clooney, by the way, will always be an object of my desire.

dancing lady

I wonder if that dream was the result of a great dinner the night before. My cousin Jan-Jan arrived from Bacolod last week, and as a beautiful...este dutiful Ate, I brought him to Serendra for dinner with our Tita Awen. We were so famished after we were seated at Abe that the food was demolished in a matter of minutes. We probably looked like a trio of calorie-obsessed refugees...unmindful of the rice crisis, we ordered another bowl of rice! Jan-Jan is trying to quit smoking, and was getting restless after dinner, craving for his vitamins. To distract him, we drove to Greenbelt 5, walked around a bit, and had dessert at Pia Y Damaso. It was Jan-Jan's first visit to the new Greenbelt, he breathed in the scenes around him, and temporarily forgot his desire for nicotine.

Oh, and finally! After deliberation from the lower and upper Houses of Congress, I got a haircut yesterday afternoon---plus a hot oil and massage. Hayyyyyy, sarap! Life is good (despite the perennial irritant at the end of the hallway, which I will blog one of these days, ala-Brian Gorrell! Hahahaha)!

with cousin Jan-Jan at Serendra

P.S.1. The photos of flowers and my "bridge of sigh" were taken in my boss' farm during our company outing 2 weekends ago.

P.S.2. Last photo was posted because a co-worker said I look slim in this photo! This is a "before-dinner" photo. hehehe

A Thousand Marbles

The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it's the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it's the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the study with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning, turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it. I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net.

Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the kind; he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business. He was telling whomever he was talking with something about "a thousand marbles." I was intrigued and stopped to listen.

"Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter's dance recital." He continued, "Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities." And that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand marbles."

"You see, I sat down one day and did a little math. The average person lives about 75 years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about 75 years. Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900, which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime." "Now, stick with me, Tom, I'm getting to the important part." "It took me until I was 55 years old to think about all this in any detail"; he went on, "and by that time I had lived through over 2800 Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be 75, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy."

"So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out." "I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focus more on the important things in life." There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight."

"Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure that if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use is a little more time." "It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the band. 75 year Old Man, this is K9NZQ, clear and going, good morning!"

You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next club newsletter. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. "C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast." "What brought this on?" she asked with a smile. "Oh, nothing special, it's just been a long time since we spent Saturday together with the kids. Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we're out?

I need to buy some marbles....

www.llerrah.com/thousandmarbles.htm

Pregnant with possibilities

I like the phrase and the sound of it. Pregnant with possibilities is what I’d like to be in the Year of the Rat. In my mind, there’s a picture of a psychedelic butete burping letters from its mouth --- P O S S I B I L I T I E S. Each letter bubbles on the surface of the water and turns into gorgeous men parading on the beach. I am the only person on the beach---judge and jury of this parade. It's Raining Men is playing in my iPod. :D

Kidding aside, I approach the New Year armed with lessons learned this past year and inspired by possibilities. There have been a great many things that happened to me in 2007, but I had blunders as well as things that I tried but fell short. In 2008 onwards, I’d like to focus on life's possibilities and develop a kind of optimistic hunger to try something new.

This year, I would like to be fearless in many areas of my life, make mistakes, take chances again…been a cautious observer for so long. At the back of my mind, there’s the fear of failure, disappointment, pain---but if I’ve learned something all these years, it’s ‘what won’t kill you makes you stronger.’

Life in a rat race is getting dull and exasperating, not to mention brain-numbing. I’d like to take it slow this time, take nothing for granted---‘suck the marrow from the bones of life’.

“To be a better person” has been my personal slogan for so long. I’d like to stop getting better, and start appreciating what I am. I’d like to give in to a little temptation once in a while, stop trying to make everything rational. I’d like to doubt again in order to test my convictions.

Yes, I’d like to live deliberately from now on…it’s about time!

The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat. ~Lily Tomlin

Don't quote me

Talikud Island, Samal

I swear, by my life and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine.

~ Ayn Rand

I remember being happy...

While having drinks with my friends one Friday night, a girlfriend asked nobody in particular, ‘what is happiness anyway?’ I don’t know if it was meant as a rhetorical question. I tried to answer her but everyone in the table agreed that we had one too many and we should talk about “happier” things, instead. It is a thorn in my friends’ collective side talking about “philosophical” things, otherwise known as serious topics.

Oh by the way, we are in a country where the word “philosopher” is considered an insult. To Filipinos, a “pilosopo” is a smart-aleck---someone who engages in meticulous and abstract reasoning; someone who attempts to challenge conventions. This is personified in Jose Rizal's character, Pilosopo Tasyo. Being a "philosopher" here is a sign of weirdness, a term of ridicule and mockery.

Anyway, I asked myself the same question a few nights ago---both philosophically and anthropologically. What is happiness? My late mathematician-friend-turned-philosopher after a certain amount of alcohol once told me that happiness is defined according to ones personal values and the values of a particular culture.

For a bed-ridden 90-year old Casanova, his definition of happiness may be an erection, or an empty bladder. I know of some people who are happy taking Prozac while others are happy helping street children. A sexually promiscuous woman revealed in Cosmo that she looks for happiness (orgasm) by sleeping with various men. A self-sacrificing wife finds happiness in taking care of her abusive husband. My 9-year old nephew's happiness is Jollibee's chicken joy and french fries.

Our concept of happiness, after all, is the single most important motivation for us---the very reason for our lives. Which leads me to my next questions---is happiness just an emotion, or a mere psychological state? Is there anything more to being happy than just thinking “I’m happy”? Or is happiness a way of life?

From Aristotle to Woody Allen, from Jean-Paul Sartre to Bart Simpson to Dagul of Pugad Baboy, much has been said and still being said about happiness. Aristotle focused on long-term and objective happiness. While some talked about self-deception and happiness, that we can mislead ourselves into thinking we’re happy when we’re not and we can be happy without realizing it. A philosopher said, “Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so.”

Happiness to me is one component of the good life. And again, the definition of a good life varies from one person to another. A good life to you may be a 3-bedroom unit at Serendra, a Jaguar, and millions in the bank, famous friends, and a boyfriend/girlfriend who worships the ground you walk on. My good life is embracing reality and facts rather than denying the truth, spontaneity, acceptance of myself and others and lacking in prejudice; and interest in solving problems, including my own emotional conflicts with people around me. I equate reaching my potentials to personal happiness.

I sometimes wonder if I really have the power to choose to be happy or unhappy. All I know is happiness is not a congenital disposition that was given to me when I was born, it isn’t a goal I’ll never reach, and it isn’t even a possession or the result of possession. So what is happiness? I have the definitions and a lot of unanswered questions.

But when I’m miserable, I understand feeling small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And how it can truly ache in places I didn’t know I have inside me. And it doesn’t matter how many massages or hot oils I get, or how many bottles of beer I drink with my friends…I still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what I did wrong. And in one crazy moment I would remember that I had been happy. Then one morning, I wake up feeling worthwhile again, and the little pieces of my soul finally come back. And all that painful stuff, the days of my life that I wasted eventually begin to fade. That is the mystery of happiness.

Happiness, it seems to me, consists of two things: first, in being where you belong, and second -- and best -- in comfortably going through everyday life, that is, having had a good night's sleep and not being hurt by new shoes.