Finding Home

This song was written almost 20 years ago.  My friend Des and I tried to put in an arrangement, but for some reason we could not agree on the form of the song, and eventually I abandoned the idea of recording a demo.  I've forgotten some of the parts in the verse, reconstructing this entirely from memory, so I put in new lines to freshen up the piece and tinkered with its structure.  Hope to sing it again soon.  Also, how time flies.

THIS HOMELESS HEART

Please wait for me, don't ever let me go.
This homeless heart has nowhere else to go.

Home is where the heart is
But I haven't found my only love
And all these walls that keep me in
Are all as cold and dark as the stars above.
Where will I find the shelter
That I know within your arms of love?

Home is where the heart is, they say.
To keep you warm when then sun goes away
For so long the dreams have kept me 
Alive --- and pushed me through
But dreams do fade they fly away with time.

Love is something that you'll find at home
Where you'll feel never be alone
But where is home when I'm away
So far --- from where you are
Though we're apart our hearts just beat as one.

Home is where the heart is
But I haven't found my only love
And all these walls that keep me in
Are as cold and and dark as the stars above
Where will I find the shelter 
That I know with your arms of love?

My home is where you are
And my heart lives in your heart
If I can find the courage
To bridge the miles that we're apart
If only time would be our friend
So all my days would be with you
And no more words need be spoken
To show my love is true...

Home is where the heart is
You're the one and my only love
And all these walls that keep me in
Are as cold and and dark as the stars above
Where will I find the shelter 
That I know within your arms of love?

Please stay with me, don't ever let me go.
This homeless heart has so much love to show.

Back in Spring

I remember some of my old posts regarding favorite songs.  If I were held at gunpoint this song wouldn't make the top five, not even the top ten, but for now I'm in a folksy mood and experiencing a mild form of homesickness.  So I'm jamming to some of the songs of my childhood, including songs by (and here it comes, egads!) Sharon Cuneta.  I can't find some good downloads for VST or Hagibis, so YouTube would have to do.

The most vivid memories of February in Manila were during high school, where it meant the school fair and the high school dance.  It was the social event of the entire year because apart from class interactions and the occasional soiree, this was only place where one can meet a large number of girls, unless one were a nerd and always competed in interschool events (which always has negative effects, sadly).  It meant a lot of New Wave and glam rock/gothic rock blasting from the speakers, even an occasional Billy Joel's "Sometimes A Fantasy" or selections from Michael Jackson and Earth, Wind, and Fire.

As we didn't have cellphones then, coming out with someone's landline number on a piece of paper (or on your hand) was a major victory.

So this song is about the spring of young love.  Every note tinkles as if it were brand-new.  Right now, these notes sometimes resound a little more strongly, albeit as echoes of forgotten times.  You'd wish it were the first time, and that you have a whole lifetime for experiences to come by.  But when you look into the mirror, the lines on your face tell you that time has betrayed you and you must savor every last drop of pleasure that comes into your life, before they run out.

Past Peeping

Almost 20 years to the day, I was fully introduced to the music of the Beatles.  In my early teens, I was particularly enamored of the classics and religious music - the classics being what they were, and I admired their themes and structure.  Religious music, well, because I was a volunteer facilitator and we listened to a lot of "retreat" music.  My sisters loved OPM, and our eldest brother loved R&B and jazz.  My other brother was a true child of the times, loving New Wave music.  I pretended to listen because I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  I was such a snob.

I watched a lot of movies in the theaters then because that was my only form of escape - going home meant living through the pressures our family was going through at the time, and being elsewhere meant that life was catching up on me.  The Robinsons Galleria theaters showed a lot of footage of "A Hard Day's Night" during those times.  I would suppose there was a lot of heavy promotion since it was almost close to the 30th anniversary of the Beatles' first hit in the UK ("Love Me Do," a Top 20 hit).

This particular bit, along with "I Should Have Known Better" were my favorite pieces (well, they did receive a lot of rotation).  The harmony is impeccable on this piece, and at this point I would surmise Lennon was reaching his creative apex as a Beatle (my guess is that he topped out in "Rubber Soul" as a member of the band, and thenceforth McCartney became their driving force).  When I listen to this song I always play in twice, singing with Lennon's part the first time and then with McCartney's part the second time.

The Beatles' surfacing in my musical palette also came with the rise of grunge and Pinoy alternative rock.  In a way the stripping down of the musical components of recorded music was the antidote to overproduced electronic tracks of the '80s.

This year the Beatles would celebrate their 50th anniversary as a hit band.  Looking forward to all the tributes and the concerts.

Plain Inspiration

Happy birthday John Lennon!  You would have been 71 years old - you were in the same generation as my father so I guess he would never have made you one of his musical idols.  That man is strictly in the Frank Sinatra-Bing Crosby-Nat King Cole mode.  I'm glad to say I followed your music even before the Internet made the musical landscape a virtual gobbledygook or a wonderful kaleidoscope of invention, depending on your place in the spectrum.

I would have wanted to post "Imagine," your most popular post-Beatles song, but that piece of cream puff has been suborned by the overly-romantic who look upon the ideal but do not think about the details in getting there.  (Parenthetical thought: such cynicism! and coming back with a timely vengeance, I should say!)  "God," however, is downright self-indulgent and thus almost offensive to those with narrow minds, while "Mother" is even more treacly and sentimental (and since my parents gave me a different upbringing, good for me!).  So I choose this song, which is fitting since we're all slaves to the grindwheel called Necessity.

Someday they will call us salt of the earth.

Staying Live

Eid Mubarak!

Just keeping this blog rolling, just staying live until something more important or momentous comes up.

I am back in muggy Dammam for the Eid Al Fitr holidays, though at least it's no longer as humid as it was during most of the summer. It has dawned upon me that there is so much me that is into Dammam-Khobar. Despite that Riyadh is a World City in terms of its economic, political, and cultural influence, I am still at heart one with the Eastern region of Saudi Arabia.

For those who want a better explanation of what Eid is all about, this is not the place to do it. Suffice to say comparatively of the two great religious festivals of the Muslim faith Eid Al Fitr (as opposed to Eid Al Adha) follows a period similar to Lent in the Christian faith, but its celebration is closer to that of Christmas, where Eid Al Adha follows a period closer to Holy Week in nature, and is apropos celebrated like that of Easter. For me personally, I would rather celebrate Easter more than Christmas, but maybe all those companies and businesses have got it right - Christmas sells better.

On the 1st of September the new order in the office would have reached one month. It was a so-so month, Ramadan being what it is. No developments, no promises. I feel sad for a member of our team who had to leave the Company involuntarily (the new PC for getting sacked), and I don't want to go into the justifications for his departure. Everyone has his or her truth when telling their side of the story. As far as I am concerned, the current order has to be a bit tougher for the Filipinos. As the ranking official left - the former "Godfather" also exiting the company "officially" at month's end, this strangely gives me some extra amount of motivation. Konting tiis lang, mga kabayan. Kailangan natin 'to, masyado tayong nag-relax. Gitgitan na ngayon.

Some love-hate involved with this holiday - it's fun to kick back a little, but I am not too impressed. It's the just the way I feel, no offense to those who devoutly follow the rule and are truly appreciative of what Ramadan is to their faith. It's the same way I feel about major Christian holidays - maybe I'm just channeling my inner Scrooge.

From the Heights

This is the sunset view from a hilltop overlooking the city of Cairo. I took this with my cellphone camera during my last trip to Egypt Dec 2009/Jan 2010. Not a great shot, given the limitations of my lens and the overall lighting. I just like to think what the view means - a) I actually got to travel to Egypt, even though it was mostly for work, and b) The view from any height has a sense of majesty.

It was Father's Day last Sunday and I found little time to think about my own father. It was almost half a lifetime ago when he passed away, and yet pausing to think about him on some basis is like looking at myself at the mirror for ten straight minutes. I don't have that kind of vanity. I just fall into the habit of acting and speaking the way I remember him doing. To honor him is to do right by what I was given. I may not have had the privileges of some, but I was privileged with the desire to learn.

So what's the connection with Egypt? Nothing really, except that I am happy to cross it off from the places I want to visit. One takeaway from being an expatriate worker is to enrich one's life and perspective from the viewpoints of one's hosts. Egypt takes pride in its ancient traditions. This is all well and good if that legacy is still active in this current generation.

In Search of Models

I'm reading on the La Salle Centennial and I feel proud to be part of that heritage. It isn't just about basketball, of course. My road led me to almost becoming a La Salle Brother, once upon a time.

I am almost tempted to criticize something, as is my normal thing. It is no longer as droll to dwell on something one wants to change when the viewscope needs some cleanng. Yes, some inventory required in my life now.

For now, I will be content with what I have been given. Woody Allen puts it simply - eighty percent of success is showing up. All I have to do is be here, right now, present in body and in mind.

Can't worry too much about the state of the world. The world has gone on millions, billions of years without our intervention as a species. It will unvariably find a way to balance the equation even while we try our best to despoil it.

Can't worry about the state of the land in the Philippines. One day, if I ever get possessed by some need to validate my values, I will run for public office. Everybody's a critic now you can hardly find anyone who wishes to perform. Am in no rush to join that queue, so many others think privilege should come first.

More Than Just A Sweet Dream

Have no decent video of this song. Excellent vocal work by Dianne Reeves and instrument track by David Benoit is so smooth in rising in counterpoint to her voice. One of the staples of my chill-out music during the late '80s, it became more important after we started using it as retreat music.

One thing for certain, my buddy Des used it for a mix-tape of songs he gave to his then-girlfriend (awww, so sweet!). Well, what happened afterward... let's just say it was a learning experience for both of them.

This is dedicated to my little nephew Jeremiah Angelo, who is turning three years old on August 2. One can only truly be home when surrounded by the people whom one loves and loves one best. Only in the land of the loving am I home.

It is natural that as he grows, he will have to deal with the evils of this world, and shadow will one day be cast over his life.

May that day be far from coming. We can only guard against it, as his elders, and trust that our example and the Lord's grace will be enough to guide him on his way.

Ah, worries. What a song and a memory bring. Yes, distress is but natural, to one who is not nourished by the air and water of his native land. I will sleep, and tomorrow, all my hopes will be more than just a sweet dream.

May these words take wing and go straight to heaven, for this supplicant desires nothing more right now than divine inspiration.

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul." - Psalm 143:8

Making Ability Count

Don't measure yourself by what you have accomplished, but by what you should have accomplished with your ability - John Wooden

Almost lost in the hubbub of the NBA Finals and the opening of the 2010 World Cup was the passing of a legend: UCLA basketball coach John Wooden. I didn't know a whole lot of his life story and achievements until later in my teens, but I do remember him a lot because basketball, much more than excessive alchohol, raucous singing, or womanizing, was the family religion, at least among us men.

Before I was born, it was the main way my father and his brothers, my uncles, displayed their machismo and bravado. I heard once that one of the older brothers, my Tiyong Salvador "Badong" de Guzman, was a highly-rated player and was invited to the national team. During those days, basketball was just reaching the apex of its popularity and there was hardly any money in it. I suspect though, that my Tiyong Badong was making the most of his time as a Customs employee and the cost of paying for the expenses without a backer was hardly appealing (since this was post World War II and the college leagues were just growing, and no hint of commercial leagues yet.)

Anyhow, basketball filled our conversations. My oldest brother had the unique experience of playing basketball camp in his teens when our father was still working for the Goodyear company. My brother had a beautiful release on his jump shot - he was schooled by our father and an American employee at Goodyear encouraged him to develop it further - only when I was watching footage of Pistol Pete Maravich did I notice the similarities.

But this is not a case of "my grandfather had a bigger, better whatever."

In any case, even though basketball was a test of character, all of us kids were directed to hit the books - any fool can dribble a basketball, but not anyone can cure cancer. Or so it went. We went out and played, but we had to study.

We had a backdoor basketball court (roughly halfcourt) where I learned the game and watched others play. My other uncles, my mother's brothers, were far more often at our house and so were their kids, my cousins.

Basketball - and sport itself - are not analogies of life. Sports are life. They offer an insight as to how you approach life. You could guess at somebody's character as to how he conducted himself on the court - never mind his skill (as talent and coordination is unevenly distributed) - but how he relates with his teammates and his opponents.

We love sport because through our sports heroes we can live those values we hold dear vicariously through them. Courage under difficult circumstances, achieving harmony in reaching a goal, practicing continuously to perfect one's skills, playing by the rules and knowing when to bend them, oh-so-carefully-but-cleverly in your team's favor. How we perceive our players and the ones we relate to is also an indication of how well we understand the game, and in turn, how winning on the court, while not the end-all and be-all of our life, could come pretty close in achieving one's personal high-definition personality picture.

The spirit of this post following the first Boston Celtics championship in twenty-odd years still reflects my estimation for people and the game.

You respect talent but don't subordinate your goals or your personhood to it; you take the talent that you have and compete to the fullest of your ability; you dish out the punishment that you can take, and acknowledge that pain is part of the process of winning (or even losing for that matter); you shouldn't stop yourself from trying to win them all but when the losses come, accept that you can't get them all; and when the struggle is done and whether you win or lose, you shake hands with the guys on the other side.

And, one succinct lesson that should always echo for all of us (especially me) - don't settle, don't ever settle. A win is not a win if it was handed out to you. In the end, the prizes lose their luster when they come too easily. Find a challenge and keep to it, never flog yourself for wanting too much but rather for not appreciating the degree of difficulty in time. "A man's got to know his limitations," so says Dirty Harry Callahan. But don't let those limitations, on the other hand, define your lack of desire to do the best that you can.

John Wooden really had it figured out back then.

Just a small postscript since I avoided commenting on the present political situation in the Philippines ---

I may not like Noynoy Aquino, or even profess to have the least amount of admiration for him, but he won the presidency fair and square. He is not his parents and he can't lay claim to their achievements. Which is all the better for him - he has the opportunity to chart his own destiny, free from the "what-could-have-beens" of his father and the "better-times-than-what-we-remembered" of his mother. He may not have the abiliity or sincerity of either, but he does have a chance to make the most of his time.

And this is his time, not theirs. And if we are to make it worth his while, we should make it our time too.

Breathing Hope

This post is dedicated to all the folks that loomed large in my life and for reasons of distance and time, or perhaps the onset of death, have somehow been "forgotten" or submerged underneath all the muck and scree that litter my mind nowadays.

I haven't forgotten you at all, it's just, well, it's just I'd like things to be great when we see each other again. I believe we will, someday.

The biggest solace I get from having to live without most of my family and friends near me is that somewhere out there, the Divine is breathing hope into the world, sometimes like the sunrise in the picture (taken at Khobar Corniche, courtesy of one of my friends), or that I can poke some fun at myself occasionally for taking some things too seriously.

One lesson I learned from one of my friends from way back is that you can have all the drama in your life if you want, but then at times you have to switch it off to stay sane. The song doesn't exactly share that message, but I remember Bobby P and those days of youth when we had little more to think about but sing about our life's dramas and wish for more inspiration and challenges. Those are the days I would like to share, one day, with young people of my own.

For the days in Palawan at Holy Cross College, with Anna, Gina, Rommel, Janice, and Bobby P ... those few days of teaching (and learning from) our retreatants were my breath of hope that kept me going for a long, long time, the fumes of which have left a lingering fragrance which will stay with me for the rest of my life.

HINDI NA, AYOKO NA
(Regine Velasquez)

Noong iwanan mo 'ko
Hinihintay kong marinig mo lang ang
Tinig ko
Sa bawat tawag ng pangalan mong
Binihag ng bigat sa puso ko
Ngayon, ika'y naririto
At ang sabi mo'y, 'ika'y akin mula ngayon
Iwanan na sa limot ang noon,
O giliw ko, narito ako!'

Biglang ligaya ang naramdaman ng pusong
Kay tagal nang naghintay sa iyo
Ngunit ang dulot niyang sakit ay di malimot
Ipagpawalang-hanggan mo man
Bulong ng puso ko ay, 'hindi na, ayoko na'

Puso'y mas malakas sa isip ko
Tibok nito'y di patatalo

O kay ligaya ko sana ngayon nandirito't
Aking-akin na'ng pag-ibig mo
Ngunit darating ang panahong di ko malimot
Ipagliban mo na lang sa iba'ng pag-ibig mo
Pagka't ayoko na, ayoko na!

Ngunit ang dulot niyang sakit ay di malimot
Ipagpawalang hanggan mo man
Sigaw ng puso ko ay, 'Hindi na, ayoko na...'

My little prayer to get me through tough patches:

Father in Heaven, I know everything that has happened to me is because of what I've done and freely chosen. You have given me signs - the people and events in my life to show me what I must do. I can't ask you anything more than what you have given, but all I ask, for this time, is a breath of hope that will get me through this.

Worlds

There is a poignant line in the first ring of stories in "The Gunslinger" (first of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King) where Roland Deschain, the last gunslinger, is forced to make a choice - whether to pursue the Man in Black, or to leave behind his young ward, Jake Chalmers, a boy transplanted from our reality to his world.

Jake says, "Go then, there are other worlds than these."
... and from there he plunges to his death.

El Día de los Muertos - the Mexican expression for the Day of the Dead - is a national holiday of celebration, of mirth, in Mexico. It has, somehow, crossed the Pacific with the galleons to the Philippines, where the animistic rites and Chinese traditions also have a high reverence for those who are past. One of the most common customs is the making of elaborate altars to welcome departed spirits home. Families go to cemeteries to fix up the graves of the departed, and oftentimes vigils are held.

Filipinos have an obsession for the dead, sometimes more so than for life. In death, slates are wiped clean, and fond memories, once embittered by too much pain or too little affection, come to surface once again. A person, once fallen and clasped by the Hand of Death, undergoes beatification and becomes a saint.

It isn't really like that with me, only...

Sometimes I dream of the what-could-have-beens, lives hidden within the possibilities that were left hanging when the dearly departed pass away. Or at other times, I think about the never-weres, but still more powerful are the potentialities of the what-should-have-beens --- the events of my life that should have been the correct course were it not for crucial missteps, careless mistakes, losing struggles to venality or convention, and most of all, glaring omissions.

Of course, there are truths which are but shouldn't be, because we could do better. Or that we should do better. I can't say much for the rest, but I know this world could be a brighter place if I smiled more, or if I gave much more of myself.

There are worlds, and there are worlds of possibility. For some, the possibilities have been too palpable, too reachable, only to be stymied in the end.

It would have been great had my father lived longer, if he had not driven himself to drink in the last few years of his life. But that, too, has its own worlds of possibility - if my brother hadn't suffered a mental meltdown that would eventually become the cross our family would bear - it's frustrating to think what kind of present we would have had. My brother had always been the good son, the helpful one, the supportive one. Just thinking of what he could have been - a successful architect, for one - is so painful it could make my heart stop.

I wonder how things would have turned out had I gone on to be a lawyer on the one hand or La Salle Brother on the other...

I stopped this post just right here. I received an e-mail advice that Marcial Soriano, co-founder of SHARE and one of my mentors and "big brothers" during my high school and university days, was murdered this morning by one of his domestics. Details are sketchy.

A part of me is saying I should mourn more --- but the shock, like the shock from losing a limb, is still paramount. There is the foreknowledge that our lives could end any time, but there is also the hoping (or the denial) that it wouldn't happen to me or to anyone I knew personally. This loss is devastating --- the only way I'm protecting myself is to think of this in abstract terms.

Of course I'm just fooling myself.

Last night I lit a candle for the souls of the departed in my life and prayed for them. There is the faith that these dearly departed have gone on to a better place, and that's just it, all I can go on is that faith.

There are more worlds than these, but this world in itself, with all its beauties (and mirrored in ugliness as well), can be so fleeting if one doesn't take the life one has in hand, and, in Thoreau's terms, suck the marrow out of it. Sometimes the road is hard, and wishing is so much easier. But we do walk this road, and death is waiting at one end. I believe something else awaits on the other side, but all I can do right now is live this life as best as I can, as much as I can.

It could end a lot sooner than I would like to believe.

Princely

Eid Mubarak!

In keeping with the season, I'm posting a hodgepodge of statements derived from Antoine de Saint-Exupery's The Little Prince, though some passages are paraphrased in order to make it more substantial in Filipino. It was intended to be delivered before an audience for a Closed-Eye Process.

Alam ninyo, kay tagal ko nang gusto kayong kausapin. Siguro sa ngayon hindi pa ninyo ako kilala. Hindi naman mahalaga talaga ang aking pagkatao, pero baka magtaka naman kayo at sino naman ang kumakausap sa inyo. Tawagin na lang ninyo akong Munting Prinsipe, pero hindi naman dahil sa maliit ako ngunit sa dahilang naghahari ako sa napakaliit na planeta sa kalawakan. Minsan, napadpad ako dito sa inyong mundo. Marami akong nakilala at nakita, at marami rin akong nalaman ukol sa inyo, mga tao. Sana, hayaan ninyo akong magkuwento. Kaunting panahon lang, kaunting oras ng iyong pakikinig.

Siguro, sasabihin ninyo, sino ba itong nanghihimasok sa amin? Ganyan na nga ang gusto kong ipaliwanag sa inyo. Minsan kasi, napansin kong napakatigas ng ulo ng tao, kahit wala siyang kaalaman, nagmamalinis at nagmamarunong. Ngunit, sa katotohanan, hindi naiintindihan ng tao ang tunay na kahulugan ng kay raming bagay. Masyadong nakatuon sa mga pigura at sa mga numero. Tingnan mo lang kapag sinabi mong mayroon kang nakitang bahay na napakaganda at may malawak na hardin at malinis na pader kung paniniwalaan ka o bibigyan ng pansin. Ngunit kung sasabihin mong nakakita ka ng bahay na nagkakahalagang limang milyong piso, aba'y sasang-ayon sila sa sinabi mo't tatanungin ka pang, "Nasaan ang bahay na iyon?"

Ganoon din sa tao. Hindi naitatanong kung mabait at tapat ang iyong kaibigan, at kung malinis ang kanyang pagkatao, ngunit ang itatanong sa iyo kung pang-ilan siya sa pamilya, sino ang kanyang pamilya, kung saan siya nanggaling at kung ano ang kanyang trabaho. Kung ibibigay mo ang kasagutan nais nilang marinig, hindi na sila magtatanong.

Maraming nang nakalimutan ang tao dito sa mundo. Isa na dito ang bisa ng pagsasama. Ito ang mga tipong nagsasaad ng mabuting pakikitungo at pakikisama ng tao sa kanyang kapwa. Ang isa pa ay ang ritwal at rito, na siyang tumatawag at humahalina sa tao upang pagtibayin ang kanilang pagsasama. May ritwal tayo tulad ng pakikinig, ng pagsasalita nang may paggalang sa iba, at nang pakikiramdam sa pangangailangan ng iba. Wala tayong matatamo kung wala tayong kusang makisama sa iba. Ngunit, wala ring halaga ang ritwal kung pagmamalasakit ay kulang. Walang halaga ang buhay kung walang tunay na pagmamahal.

Kaya naman siguro hindi na nakikialam ang tao sa isa't isa, nag-iisip ang karamihan na masyado silang importante. Siguro, ang akala ng tao ay napakahalaga nila dito sa mundo, kesyo malaking lugar ang nagagamit ng bawat isa. Sa totoo lang, mapagsasama-sama natin ang anim na bilyong tao sa isang napakalaking plasa sa kahit anumang malaking siyudad. Kung tatayo lamang ang lahat, magkakasya ang lahat ng tao sa lugar na mayroon sukat na 30 milya pahaba at 40 milya palapad. Magkakasya ang buong sangkatauhan sa isang maliit na pulo sa gitna ng dagat Pasipiko.

O, e ano ngayon? E ano nga kung sa totoo lang ang tunay nating halaga ay nakasalalay din minsan sa ibang tao. E ano nga rin na kinakailangan din natin ang iba? Maaari nating tulungan ang isa't isa, hindi ba? Paano? Simple, makinig tayo. Bigyan natin ng kahalagahan ang bawat isa. Amuin natin ang isa't isa. Mapapaamo natin ang isang tao sa atin sa pagiging maaalahanin, sa pagiging maunawain, sa pagiging mapagmahal, hindi dahil mayroon tayong makukuha sa kanya, ngunit dahil siya ay taong may halaga tulad natin.

Ang mga bagay na napaamo ng isang tao, ang mga bagay na binibigyan niya ng halaga, ang siya lamang niyang nauunawaang tunay. Ngunit palaging gahol sa oras ang tao para umunawa ng kahit anuman. Binibili na kasing yari na ang mga bagay sa mga tindahan. Pero hindi ka naman makabibili ng pagkakaibigan at pagmamahal sa anumang tindahan sa buong mundo, kaya nagkukulang na ang mga tao sa tunay na kaibigan. Kung naghahanap ka ng kaibigan, paamuin mo ako. Paamuin ninyo ang isa't-isa sa inyo. Narito na kayo lahat, mga taong nangangailangan at nagtataglay ng tunay na pag-ibig.

Sa paggamit ng puso't pakiramadam mo lamang makikita ang tunay na halaga ng isang bagay, sapagkat ang mga pinakamahalagang bagay ay hindi mababatid ng ating paningin. Sabihin nating maihahambing mo ang isang tao sa isang rosas, na mahina at madaling masaktan, na kailangan ng maasikasong pangangalaga. Paamuin mo ang isang rosas. Mahalin mo ito. Ikaw ay may tungkulin sa lahat ng bagay na iyong napaamo. Sapagkat napaamo mo ang isang rosas, ikaw ay may tungkulin para sa kapakanan nito.

At sabihin din nating namumunga lamang ang rosas na ito sa isang sulok ng kalawakan, at dahil mahal mo talaga ang rosas na iyon, sapat na siguro sa iyo ang pagmasdan lamang ang mga bituin sa kalangitan. Sasabihin mo sa iyong sarili, "Naroroon ang aking bulaklak sa kalawakan..." Ngunit, kung nakain ng isang tupa ang bulaklak, anong mangyayari sa iyo? Hindi ba maglalaho ang liwanag ng lahat ng bituin para sa iyo? Ganito rin ang halaga ng iyong pag-ibig para sa iba. Maganda, ngunit dapat nating alagaan.

Ngunit huwag na huwag ninyong kalimutan ang inyong tungkulin sa inyong sarili, at baka maabala kayo ng tuluyan sa iba. Sapagkat sa huli, ikaw lamang ang makapagsasabi na ika'y mayroong nagawa. Samakatwid, titimbangin mo ang iyong sariling iyong pagkatao, ang iyong halaga. Ang gawin ito ay ang napakahirap para sa marami. Mas mabigat na pasanin ang husgaan ang sarili kaysa na ang magbigay ng pasya ukol sa iba. Kung karapat-dapat ang sukat mo sa iyong sarili, malaki na ang nagawa mo.

E di saan tayo ngayon tutungo? Kayo ang bahala, kayo naman ang may kapangyarihang humubog sa inyong kinabukasan. Wari ang aking mga salita ay munting paalala lamang, tulad ng aking pangalan. Pansinin ninyo ang inyong kapaligiran, pansinin ninyo ang inyong mga sarili. Mabuksan sana ang inyong mga puso sa pagmamahal. Pakinggan natin ang taginting ng mundo.

Backtrack

I'm posting an old song from my high school days - a song which we used almost exclusively for recollections/retreats. It's a singer's song, as well, which makes it one of my favorites --- it is both a devotion and a means for catharsis.

It's my proverbial flower for the people who perished in the events leading up to, during, and after 9/11. It isn't much, but I do hope the Lord watches over them just as He is watching over you and me.

And in the meantime, for those whom we love, let us pray that we have the strength to watch over them the best way we can.

WE ARE THE REASON
(David Meece)

As little children we would dream on Christmas morn
Of all the gifts and toys we knew we'd find
But we never realized a baby born one blessed night
Gave us the greatest gift of our life

We were the reason that He gave His life
We were the reason that He suffered and died
To a world that was lost He gave all He could give
To show us the reason to live

As the years went by we learned more about gifts
And giving of ourselves and what that means
On a dark and cloudy day a man hung dying in the rain
Because of love, because of love
And...

We were the reason that He gave His life
We were the reason that He suffered and died
To a world that was lost He gave all He could give
To show us the reason to live

I finally found the reason for living
It's in giving every part of my heart to Him
In all that I do, every word that I say
I'll be giving my all just for him, for Him

And we are the reason that He gave His life
We are the reason that He suffered and died
To a world that was lost He gave all He could give
To show us the reason to live
He is my reason to live. . .

Once, If Only

The summers of 1986, 1987, and 1988 were among the most beautiful times of my life, and just like how the fictional author Gordie Lachance tells it in the movie "Stand By Me" (also released during this period), we somehow never recover the innocence and the vitality of our lives just as things were coming to us.

For the geeks out there --- these were the years of Dragonlance, Crisis on Infinite Earths, and multiple re-runs of "Transformers the Movie" while covering up a group viewing of porn. "Highlander" rocked the big screen, and New Wave was gradually being overtaken by Stock Aiken Waterman. Michael Jackson stopped thrilling, and even as "Bad" sold, it was, but for a few cuts, really bad. It was "Miami Vice" and "The Equalizer," "MacGyver" and "Airwolf."

. . . We called them "soirees," or simply, sanctioned meetings of boys and girls who otherwise wouldn't have met. It was hard being smart - and fat - in high school. Teenagers could be so unkind, though never meaning to be. On the other hand, it was so easy being caught up in puppy-love, of spending hours on the phone, composing letters and daydreaming.

School was never a burden, it was actually an escape from the drudgery of home --- but home was always a safe place, where no dark shadows of foreboding would wait. Life was always looking forward to tomorrow though with the hope that today would never end.

They were different times --- and though my life had its brief "renaissance of innocence" from 1993 through 1995, it was never quite the same. I wonder where they are, the girls of my yesteryear, and if ever thought about that obviously-too-big wallflower, and wonder if their memories were ever kind.

In Your Wildest Dreams
(Justin Hayward/The Moody Blues)

Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Reflected in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

Once the world was new
Our bodies felt the morning dew
That greets the brand new day
We couldn't tear ourselves away
I wonder if you care
I wonder if you still remember
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

And when the music plays
And when the worlds are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time

Once beneath the stars
The universe was ours
Love was all we Knew
And all I knew was you
I wonder if you know
I wonder if you
Think about it
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

And when the music plays
And when the words are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
And when the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time

Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Mirrored in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

In your wildest dreams
In your wildest dreams

Isang Pamulat

Sa simula ay nilikha ng Diyos ang mundo
at sinugo niya ang tao upang magsilbing tagapag-kalinga
nang mapanatili ang kagandahan ng kanyang nilikha.

Subali't sa paglipas ng panahon . . . nakalimot ang tao.
Pinabayaan niya ang lupa,
ang kanyang kapwa,
at ang kanyang sarili.

Nalunod siya sa pagkilos ng isang mundong masikip at nagmamadali.
Inabala niya ang kanyang sarili sa kamunduhan.
Nalasing siya sa pangako ng tagumpay
At 'di niya napansin ang kanyang paligid . . .
na mayroong hindi maganda
na may taong hindi makahabol
na may mga taong hindi masaya
na may mga taong hindi malaya . . .
May takot,
at nangungulila.

Sa harap ng kahirapan at pagkukulang
Sapat na ba ang mangakong may liwanag sa isang mundong sakop ng dilim?
Sapat na ba ang sumigaw kung walang nakikinig?
Handa ba tayong imulat ang ating mga mata sa katotohanang
mayroong ngang nangungulila
at naghahanap ng liwanag . . .
Na may mga taong nag-iisa, natatakot, nalulungkot
at naghahanap ng unawa
sa isang mundong madaling makalimot?

Tumigil ka nang sandali . . .
Huwag ka munang magmadali at makipagsiksikan.
Masdan mo ang mga mukhang nasa iyong paligid
At baka mapansin mo . . . na marunong din silang tumawa
at kumanta
at makiramay.
Marunong din silang magtanong
at kumilos. . .
Na baka kailangan lang nila
ay isang gabay,
isang liwanag, na magpakita sa kanila
na sila at maaaring magbigay-liwanag din
hanggang sa ito'y kumalat at dumami

. . .at mawala ang dilim sa mundo.

(An old piece circa 1995, c/o my buddy Robert with some verses from me -- I don't remember which --- for the Peer Counselors of La Salle Lipa High School. In keeping with the recent tragedies in the Philippines and China...sadness wells up in my heart.)

Leavetakings

This is the first post I have had, well, in over three months and it is somewhat bizarre to be writing again after so long. Just like something unfinished, this stays unfinished until the whole thing falls into disrepair. It's been so bad that some fellow offered to buy my site for $50. Unbelievable.

This is also the first and last dispatch I am issuing from Manila at the tail end of this year's annual vacation.

As vacations go, I believe I have reached the stage where "ho-hum" is knocking on the door of "dayumn, is it vacation time again?" Considering my state of mind and affairs prior to leaving on this vacation, that kind of transition deserves its own level of understatement. Or irony. Or whatever.

I will always miss home. Always. Even as I go on and make my own way elsewhere in another time zone, this patch of earth is my own building block, my genesis. That said, this year it has been somewhat easier to let go 0f The Things That Were Before. Ah, such semi-tragedy it may seem, but mostly in that some people in my life may have been hurt that I didn't care so much to make time for them during this vacation.

All I can say is, sorry. Really. It has nothing to do with you, it's all about reaching into the heart of me.

There is this FACE that my brother-in-law wore the day he went back to work in Dubai sometime during the middle of May. Here is a man who missed the birth of his son and only experienced true fatherhood when he arrived in March.

I'll remember that face because I'll be wearing it. For their sake, still, as it has been in the beginning, as it shall be in the end (when it does come). One day I hope to wear it for someone else, and for the family I am leaving behind. This vacation did offer possibilities, but it's too early to tell. In its own time. In His time, as well.

So rings the mantra of my life, and my new meditation for the necessary adversities in life: Not for my sake, but for theirs.

Non sibi, sed suis.

Spacey

Saturn's moon Rhea has rings

When a finger points to the moon, the imbecile looks at the finger. --- Chinese proverb

Bruce Lee makes a similar point to his young student in the prologue of his smash movie, "Enter the Dragon." It was this movie, plus Jacky Chan's "Snake in the Eagle's Shadow," both of which I watched together with my father, that really got me hooked with kung fu movies. The occasions were made all the more special because it was just my brother and me watching with him, back in the day when the Recto cinemas were really "theaters" in the old sense of the word and yes (and I'm dating myself here), they were still the places to go to. The vertical signs of the moviehouses blared out their names while the elaborate hand-painted billboards (replicas of the movie posters) provided a splash of color.

Fernando Poe, Jr. was THE movie star, with a strange aura of invincibility, and seeing him 20 feet tall bedecked with six-shooters was a sight to behold. I wonder if this trade, which would be a major piece of Filipino folk art, has survived, now that printed billboards are more or less du jour in Metro Manila.

Old downtown Manila, and those moments with my parents, remain powerful memories. There were those afternoons in Binondo when we would go to the old Ma Mon Luk - the delightful pungent smell is almost inexplicable but it would tell you whether the restaurant was "authentic" or not. Divisoria was a virtual warren of stores where any bargain can be found. I didn't appreciate going there, really (I was, or rather still am, hateful of long waits during shopping.) But it always paid off to pester my mother after she was finished with shopping - there's a quick reward of hopia somewhere or better yet, ice cream.

Speaking of which, the old Magnolia plant along Aurora Boulevard and its diner-style ice cream house was a great place to bring the kids or to have a date. I almost always ordered an "Ernie & Bert" sundae even though as a child I hated strawberry ice cream. I was always Ernie, and my brother was Bert. (I wouldn't even want to think about the rumor of them being gay.) Broadway Centrum was chic, if a bit small, and the sight of trees along Gilmore and Hemady, or even along Ortigas, almost always conveyed a sense of tranquility and stateliness. I rather envied those people who had their homes there -not because their houses were big, mind you, but that they were surrounded by nature.

.... And on and on and on and on. And on.

Seeing the world with wonder is a privilege for children ... one of my pet fascinations then was space (finally, a relation to our link!). I loved everything about space. I had my share of playing with spiders and mucking about in the dirt like other kids, but I would rather have laid down beside the glossy pictures of planets, astronauts or whatnot. I read up on Cassini, Herschel, Galileo, even bothered memorizing the history of Pluto's name (from Percival Lowell, the scientist who predicted its existence).

I even dreamed one day that I would join NASA. Or perhaps find a way to communicate with alien races.

Well, life has progressed in its own fashion, and I am nowhere near being a space agency, much less the scientifice profession - what I loved about science was the romance of discovery but not so much the discipline of achieving the result (my artistic temparament getting the better of me). But there is still that romantic notion that OUT THERE the delicious, unlimited UNKNOWN would defy any sort of explanation of what we have here in daily life, on dreary perfunctory Earth.

Space has a way of humbling one - that one's existence is but a nanoportion of the iota of the infinitesimal space our solar system occupies in the Milky Way, which is again one of many galaxies in the universe. Of which we know.

New discoveries here in what is virtually in our neighborhood in the galaxy serve up a reminder that all is not lost, that perhaps all those hours devoted to telescopes and sending probes to space would give us a clue to the machina, to the design of the symmetry/asymmetry of what we know is life. This one in particular just touched another space within my heart --- that of the younger me still floundering about, enraptured by the wonder of life.

There is of course, the current me, all worn out in some places and finding it convenient to be cynical and jaded, though I have no right to be. Not when I have a decent living, eat three squares (sometimes, ehem, oft-times more) a day, and manage to have a peaceful sleep at night.

Out there, there are answers to questions we yet have to phrase. If we keep that sense of wonder, of hope, of joy in unlimited possibility, maybe there is hope for us after all.

Blowing Invisible Kisses

Malamig. Mahirap magsentimental sa panahon ng Pasko, baka atakehin ka sa puso.

Still, this song reminds me of lazy days of drawn-out summers back home when the novelty of vacationing from school has worn off and that reality that you are stuck with nothing to do sets in...

This reminds me of languid afternoons curled up in bed with a book as the storms raged in the heavens and school has been cancelled (or I wish they would, eventually)...

When love finally came to full flower as I reached my twenties it reminds me of stealing the last few kisses even as I part from her, fearing that there would be no tomorrow for us to be together, and then despairing when she decided that indeed, there would be no tomorrow, at least for us together...

Mostly it's about those quiet times, those times in between those regular crises, flare-ups, the wailing about paying the bills and someone's lost keys --- when you are with someone you love and the air between becomes richer, as if pregnant and alive with the invisible kisses you are blowing one another. And that you take comfort in such silence, knowing you need not speak, for in your silence lies the greatest passion of all.

Astrud Gilberto is such a genius. Someone, quick, pin her another medal.

"Parting with people is a sadness; a place is only a place." --- Frank Herbert, Dune

A CERTAIN SADNESS(Astrud Gilberto)

Look out the window when that rain storms
I let the wind blow up a brain storm
. . .and now I'm wondering
Whether weather like this gets you too

It may go on like this for hours
Too late in fall for April showers
So what we got here
Got a thought or two
I need to share with you

Here goes:

Darling tell me now
Have I done wrong somehow
That you won't look at me

Need it pointed out
Can't keep my wits about
When you won't look at me

Is there something I oughta know
You're finding hard to say?
Well there's just a trace
Hiding on your face
And I learned it that way

Just another soul
That really knows my soul
And you won't look at me

Does that take the prize?
How much I love those eyes
and they won't look at me

Now the rain has gone
But something lingers on
There's certain sadness here
Now that the sky is clear

And it's so so clear
yes, it's all so clear
To me now

And I can't help but feel
That certain sadness's here
To stay.

Kids, Don't Read This - Which Means You Will

This is for the buddies back home.

I'd rather not name my buddy who brainstormed with me (well, not really a brainstorm, it was like reaching deep thoughts while sitting on the crapper), but I can't take full responsibility for it, either. This was one of our favorite car songs, especially in those days when radio stations started to play the same old stuff and we were too poor (and cheap) to put in a cassette or CD of some other tunes.

It also gave us some form of solace that we were being creative and that someday our talent would get arrested (you bet we would, but for altogether different reasons, hehe ...)

We first wrecked "Pare Ko" by the Eraserheads (which was easy, just change "pinaasa" to "ginahasa" and there you go, plus some other combos), and then we moved on "Toyang" (which is by far the best, but one I'll share only in person), and then to this piece, which is funny, but not as much. We later tried "With A Smile" and "Ang Huling Al Bimbo" but by then we had started doing our own material, but the jokes were so in-house the songs just didn't have "mass appeal."

Naturally, this isn't the best side of all of us who chipped in with these songs --- but it does work if you're young, carefree, and it helps if you're drinking, though for the record we were not on ANYTHING when we did these songs. With all due apologies to the original composers.

To all those people who put in a vote of confidence in me, now's the time to think about possibly taking it back.

SONNY (sung to the Eraserheads' "Shirley")

Hayok na naman si Sonny
Sa dalagang masikip ang p*ki
Sila'y nag-f*ck sa may Antipolo kagabi

The next week, hot item na sila
Nagkakan**tan papunta sa CASAA
Kung maglampungan akala mo walang katabi

Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog
Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog

Parati na siyang tulong sa eskuwela
Gulo-gulo palagi ang buhok niya
Tumitirik ang mata kapag naglalakad sa kalye

Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog
Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog

Ngunit isang araw sa may SM sila'y nag-away
Nag-umbagan, nagtadyakan
Hanggang sila'y malupaypay sa away
Umiiyak silang umuwi dahil sila'y may AIDS!

After three days, tumawag ang duktor ni Sonny
Diagnosis pala niya'y mali!
Hala! Punta kay dalaga at sila'y nagkan**tan uli!

Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog
Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog!

Hayok na naman si Sonny...

Weather Report, and Bowls

It's almost the end of the year and I realized that I have posted less than half of my total posts in 2006. The quality of the writing rose and ebbed as well, but then again, I did mention sometime during the first half of the year that I found something else with which to express myself --- mainly gouge my eyes out doing work, then finding out it made no sense at all and now I'm on the verge of giving up.

Do I hate myself a little? Yes. But then, now I know I'm hating my job situation, I have to choose the right solution. Put up, or shut up and go man your station.

It's the Yule season again in the Philippines and even here homes have picked up some festive spin. Since winters are cooler here you don't need reminders that it's once again this time of year.

Speaking of which, one of the great stories of December was in 1994 (or for most other Decembers in my life, save for those of my earliest childhood), when most of our people in SHARE were in one way or another connected to the World Youth Day organization. If I were to play my experience in SHARE from start to finish, I think we had peaked right there and then as an organization that could have had national status. We didn't play it the right way then, and being the idealists that we were, many of us thought everyone else was the chump for not being who we were. Yeah, I could have used that memo reminding me otherwise.

The English call it "Boxing Day" - the day after Christmas. Some of our closest friends went out together to get ourselves prepared for the grind. Our group was mostly involved with General Services, which mainly dealt with housing and food services. We had become ingrained in the spirit of the event that we were actually staying over at headquarters in Intramuros. So going out that day was a treat - with about three weeks to go and preparations nowhere near finished. From where we stood, that is.

The core of the original "Bob-Boys" (in tribute to Bob Millanes, our section chair, and a pun on how much we were the pigs that we were) was there - Gerard, Feds, and me. (Robert found the work a little on the side of drudgery, so he dropped out in the work but kept our spirits up just the same.) Our buddy Des, who had just returned from vacation from the States and found no room in GS but joined the Marketing group instead, was also there.

The main players, who were peripheral to the WYD but were our main reason to go out (aside from the usual reason of getting drunk) were Jenny C, who was wrapping up her last few terms with DLSU and volunteered to be at HQ, and Rommel F., who was her steady at the time, who of course had to be there, since he did the driving.

Intramuros is grand in the evenings --- it has both the romance and Old-World charm that was colonial Manila, plus the inexplicable but palapable thrill of the possibility of having oneself witness or directly experience a random mugging. I'm sure you snobs who drool over Hong Kong, London or New York have this, but in different doses.

We didn't do the sights - the guys who were camped out at HQ were tired of Intramuros, but hey, we did want to drink, and the place to be, then as now, was Malate. We all met up and then proceeded to Tia Maria's in Adriatico (I don't know if it's still there ---I haven't been there in almost five years) and proceeded to wolf down the chow and wash it down with some liquor.

I know people have been known to go into heights of ecstasy over rare vintages or choice cuts of meat, but nothing beats the simple pleasure of eating too much food and drinking so much alcohol because you can afford it, and it feels good too, dammit! So it was for us right there and then. At that time, the place had no band, but the house music was pretty good and we were stacking it up there with the fajitas, nachos, and the beer, not to mention our own orders of food.

In his usual funny-scrappy-weasely-but-so-helplessly-hilarious-you-can't-help-but-laugh-or-else-have-an-embolism way, Des took over the conversation. He always had the japes for everyone, but that day, I was his whipping boy. The fact that I couldn't remember what he said meant that it was just one of those days. But I was in too good a mood (or too numb, I can't say which) so we went back-and-forth for most of the meal. He could act drunker than any efficient beer guzzler, but the Des was actually drinking iced tea.

Here comes the kicker - Jenny absolutely loved laughing at our jokes. For once I put up a comment (which until today I still can't remember, though everything else was clear) which cracked everybody up, though Des started the line. We sent ourselves up in stitches, though Jenny was probably shrieking compared to us. It was an effort to stop from breaking out in guffaws, and by the time we stopped Jenny was breathing heavily. Even the group at the other table, who were loud in the first place, looked askance at us -- though there was this guy that laid the Eye on Jenny. Rommel had a semi-stern look by that time (probably because of the guy, though the man on a good day would never run out of jokes) but seeing that Jenny was taking on the color of green carpet I couldn't have blamed him. She warned us too --- to stop.

We went on for a more seconds until Des delivered the super-finish of the blow, and out came the laughs again! But all of this was suddenly erased when Jenny suddenly choked, coughed, and hiccuped (and in that order, too) before she hurled almost everything she had that night! Lucky for us, Rommel was really razor-sharp and got the saucebowl for our fajitas to catch all of her vomit.

Lesson: always have a quick hand to catch your vomit.

The rub to all of this thing was while Jenny hurled in front of our faces, she actually brushed back her hair in a flirtatious-but-conservative-I'm-prim-and-proper manner that was even far funnier than her giving us flashbacks of The Exorcist.

Second lesson: you could still be pretty while disgorging the contents of your stomach.

When we had the stuff all cleared and the service crew helped us with everything (Jenny was pretty neat - everything landed in the bowl. I give that feat 100 points - mainly by giving me a reason to cite something gross and still be complimentary of the one who did it!), Des, still the usual kidder, asked the waiter for another bowl, just in case, well, if she went at it again.

If this were a cartoon world a huge mallet would have come out of Rommel's pocket and he would smashed all of Des' brains. But since he was a doctor, and knew how Des needed his brain, he just forbore on vengeance and just issued stern warnings, while at the same time sucking up to his girlfriend by being solicitous (I didn't find this cheap. It was actually endearing that a couple could still go all saccharine at the notion of vomit).

Well, yeah, she did hurl at least two times more on the way home, but nothing could have beaten what we had just experienced. The night ended semi-badly, but Jenny made the rounds of all our stories for three straight years. If she gives me an excuse nowadays, with all due respect, I'd still make her remember, hehe.

I need more of those days and less of what I'm having right now.

But as the good poet Mick Jagger said, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes - well you might find - you get what you need."

Willing Exile: Talking It Up A Little