Fitting

The Need for Spiritual Fitness

As I write this post, I am celebrating passing another half-year without major incident.  As one gets older and gets to know one's moods and flows more intimately I know when I need some time to milk off my frustrations and put them into words.  It isn't fair, honestly, to the whole process and to the process of my writing (which I am refining further in the hopes of making the trade full-time), but for now this is what with which I have to work.

Not a fan of today's quoted author, but one key component of health is the spiritual side.  The whole concept of wellness is not only what we project on the outside, but what is also happening within.  I was born and raised in a Catholic home, though not very strict and characterized more by the free spirit that we had - we thanked God with the rites of our faith, but my parents did not insist that we close our minds.

All this did not prevent me from being a Catholic volunteer during my late teens and early twenties.  While I may not count much in the world with what I was making, that was certainly the most fulfilling time of my life. 

Since then, I won't say it's been downhill, but the happy times seem a lot spottier and harder to come by.  Disclaimer, though, those times have been considerably blurred by a lot of nostalgia.  As the happy times were more profound, so were the wounds to my psyche.

Regretting that Decision...

Prudentialife Plans halts selling, payments to clients

... to invest in another pension plan.  I didn't trust pre-need then, I still don't now.  The rules of the game when it came to financial institutions were all turned topsy-turvy by the crash of 2008.   Apparently whatever shocks that were weathered before still have remnants to make an effect.

Also, I wouldn't be surprised if politics has something to do with this latest fiasco.

There goes my P500,000 premium (sob, as in sunnava...!)

Terminus

"All roads lead to Trantor, and that is where all stars end." - Isaac Asimov, Second Foundation

One lesson from Stephen Covey is to begin with the end in mind.  From the start, mark point A as the beginning. and then mark point B as your terminus.  It should be that simple, from an intellectual point of view.  We define our journey, scope out the road getting there, and prepare ourselves accordingly.  The fun part, they say, is the journey, and not the destination.

There are lots of things to do on the journey - for while we must reach the other side, we must sustain ourselves throughout so that we keep ourselves hale and hearty on our travel.   There will be lots of things to see - wonders one has never seen, or sometimes the rare combination of having the usual mixed with the magical.

And of course, while we go through this journey, there are all sorts of distractions - whether from the vistas we see or the people we encounter.  Or sometimes we get waylaid at the stops we take - mostly by our own unreadiness or unwillingness to keep on moving.

So it is that some people make their way in life a lot more quickly and get to explore so many places - traveling the width and breadth of the human experience - while others stay where they, relatively close to where they started, hardly venturing beyond their comfort zones.

We all know where and how this journey will end someday, for all of us - in death.

Yes It's Valentine's again...

...Even though I'm in denial.  Customary sappy songs will be in order.  My choice for this month is this song from the movie version of "Camelot."  It's fantastic as a spoken piece.  Richard Harris' song-chant delivery is very memorable.

As for the song, these are wise words from King Arthur.  Yes, he was a cuckold, but he was King.  Well worth for all to understand that in love, sometimes, several wrongs don't make things right, but that was the whole meaning of the joy/suffering anyway.

One must be lucky indeed to follow that last train of thought.  I must be semi-plastered.  Stop with the cough medicine, kiddo.

Neglect

I didn't mean to leave you alone.   But I did.

Blame torrents and other mindless joys.  Blame a harder working schedule.  Mostly, blame a cheap fellow who doesn't want to pay more for personal internet access.

Hard to regain momentum on this.  But I will try.

Musical Optimism

When all else fails, roll out the old show tunes for a pick me up. If we had no performance management training today, I would have stayed home. The weather has gotten to me.

Islands

Manhattan, in a pond at Windows to the World Park in Shenzhen.

Listening to: "Oceans" by Pearl Jam


The end of a workweek brings with it a certain kind of sadness.  The finality of the day summons all the ghosts of Things Left Undone, with the prospect of Things To Do still peeking at the horizon.

For a lifer like me, the end of work for the day is a sudden deflation of my self. My raison d'etre, so to speak, has ceased and the Case of the Big Man can now conveniently go into the closet.  Without a life to which I can look forward, the end of the work week can be maddening.  This is amusing and a bit of a pain in the ass at the same time - there was a time when I was the acme of indolence, existing on the point of letting things be - and even then, the remarkable thing that defined me was my own indifference.

What am I without this job?

The romantic in me would go jump up and down and say gardemit, give the old F**k you to the Man and get back, yeeeaaahhhhh.... get back to where you once belong!   Find the spaces within and nurture the bridges to fill those gaps.  Find love.  Find fulfillment in writing the fantasy novel to end all fantasy novels.  Do something.  (Cue in Dick Dastardly, snapping at his canine sidekick, "Muttley, do something!"  "Muttley, HELP!)  Be involved.  Wallow in weltschmerz.

Smack myself in the head and find joy that work this week ends! (It doesn't really, I'm administering a training tomorrow).

Food Sampler

Last night was my first "cultural" experience in Riyadh, in the sense there was something different other than just strolling through the mall and finding some architectural feature (which, over here, is probably a sail and a boat, and then, a sail and a boat).


Hamming it up with staffers of the Japanese Embassy at the ASEAN Festival.

I was invited to a food festival by one of my former colleagues and his new friends here in the city at the Royal Embassy of Thailand.  My role was a food sampler (a small joke at my expense.)  Well, it wasn't really a food festival but actually the cultural festival for the entire ASEAN, in cooperation with the Japanese embassy.

We arrived a little bit late for the start of the festivities.  Riyadh's Diplomatic Quarter is a whole new community in itself, so being there is like being separated from the rest of the city.  After some twists and turns we found our way to the embassy and mingled with the rest of the crowd.  It was well represented by staffers from all the participating countries, plus some guests from other embassies.  I'm sure somebody looking for a different kind of fun wouldn't want to be there.  As we stepped in, three statuesque blondes in high heels, one wearing a sequined gown to boot, were walking away from the embassy.  Automatic minus points.  Still, quick thanks for that unique sight.  Haven't gotten that kind of view since my last visit in Dubai.

Anyhow, almost all of the ten ASEAN countries had food booths set up in the front yard of the Thai ambassador's residence.  Noticeably absent was Myanmar, which was only selling novelties and other gift items, and Vietnam, which had its big flag left all alone in an empty booth.  (Edit:  of course I forgot about Cambodia and Laos, both of which did not participate in any way.  Maybe they don't have embassies here.  I don't know.)

Neighbors

One of the few times I felt harassed while living in Saudi Arabia happened earlier tonight.  While it may be par for the course for some other people, this is not the way I envision living in Saudi Arabia would be.

My colleague and I were bothered by a gathering of pre-adolescent Saudis outside my home.  Normally I ignore these groups of youngsters and stay away a good distance to avoid any unpleasantness.  Today, (well, tonight, actually), however, they gathered in front of my building on some kind of bonding thing.  They could do that all they want, but I as sure wouldn't want to be around when they are there.

It just so happens there is an abandoned work site almost facing our building on the other side of the street.  These kids gather there and look for something to do - because life otherwise for them offers nothing new.  In the land of so much wealth, many of these kids end up poor.

When we first made the turn we saw almost a dozen kids gathered in front of the house, and my instinct for self-preservation - the same which makes me want to avoid crowded places - rang out a strong alarm.  Incidentally, we have no street lights on our corner and our house has a very small fluorescent lamp on our front stoop.  My colleague, who was driving, asked if we should stop and I said, keep on going.   We turned a corner and saw another car in our rear-view mirror make a stop at the house.

After we made another turn (less than two minutes) it was put-up-or-shut-up.  My colleague had to pick up his daughter from the sitter and then his wife from her place of work, and I had no more excuses to prolong the wait since it was almost Isha prayer and soon every one will either run toward the mosque or away from it.

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.

Another Year

So it's the fifth of October again and another year of my life has passed.

Every year continues to be a blessing. As the years pass, I am filled with happiness that in the midst of all the difficulties in the world and in my life there are still reasons for me to go on. For friends, family, loved ones, and even strangers who greeted me on my birthday, thanks. Your kind words and intentions are always a bonus.

All around, the world is in flux.  Revolutions rage, economies rise and fall, the world weather has gone haywire, technology is moving leaps and bounds.  Loved ones gather round and support one another as people fight off the inevitability of death.  Or as they welcome the coming of new life.

On the other hand, life has become a steady drone for me.  I welcome the regularity of the desert in Saudi Arabia.  Work is now a familiar face, a worry that is rather welcome than feared.  I like the constant pressure that each day brings.  Though at times my mind is sapped, as it is now, to look for something new, I thank the silence that comes from having my mind go blank.

The What?

It's easy to be caught up in a wave of pessimism when things don't go one's way.  The world is imperfect, and by following one train of logic, the world is filled with imperfect beings.  From there, one can infer that the imperfect being is oneself.

Reviewed word today - saw a re-run of the "The Big Bang Theory" where Sheldon Cooper uses the word weltschmerz -  the melancholy feeling that stems from seeing one's imperfections and the imperfections of the world as reflections of one another.

I am not about to be taken in by that kind of feeling.  That's the sure way to failure and oblivion.


"The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.”
― Arthur Rimbaud

Pressure

We need pressure from everywhere - pressure from within to prevent being crushed by adversity, and pressure from without to keep from exploding from our own problems or ego.

Never (Gulp) Again

Oh yeah, before I forget, something about our history.

I would normally put in something about the evils of the Martial Law period.

But no, some events and times must be put up with to educate the body politic.

Never.

Yeah sure.

Ooomph.

This story could have been about me, under slightly different circumstances, just a few years back.  Here I was talking about temperance and the first thing to put under control is eating.

Anyhow, I found some of the comments more interesting and no doubt not everybody wants to troll on these kinds of pages, just to share an opinion.  Funny how we could have an opinion about everything and then choose to ignore the right of others to express their own.  Just a thing with this "information age" - too much information, not enough discernment.  And this isn't even a fingernail's worth to all of the other comments and tweets about everything that is happening.

Maybe it would be nice to turn it off.  If only I could.

Temperance and Uncertainty

"Your glory, O Israel, lies slain on your heights. How the mighty have fallen!". - 2 Samuel 1:19

A lesson for all OFWs is temperance.

It is always easy to think the world revolves around one's problems - the next bill to be paid, the next problem to be hurdled, the next loan to be taken out with all the accompanying guarantees. Life seems to be always about worry.

Worrying about the future, the unknown, the prospect of being powerless to stop the tide of the future. The odd thing, worrying always paints the future to either negative or positive prospects but trivializes the present.

Which leads us to my little additional realization for today - there is no antidote against the coming of the future.  Problems, worries, consequences - we have no control over them.  They come because they must, because with every effect there is cause. What we do control is the cause - our present. The vista of the future pales in comparison with the wonderment of the present - of being in the Moment, of seeing life as it is, and letting the world and one's self be.

Instead of appreciating life from our mere personal lens, we begin to understand the essential relationships that exist among us.

Winning Dirty

Sneaky smart of Floyd Mayweather in his fight with Victor Ortiz.  Details here.

Never liked the fellow, always thought he was much more gas than substance.  But he was firing away and clearly outclassed the competition.  Makes the cheap shot somewhat anti-climatic.  Actually, it makes the guy downright boorish, arrogant, and unsportsmanlike.  Made the headbutt by Ortiz in the earlier break in action almost justifiable.

But that's sport, not life.  No one minds a sneaky-smart fellow from grabbing such opportunities afforded him even if he would get them later on.

So, congratulations for the meantime to new WBC welterweight champion Floyd Mayweather, Jr.  Now if both he and Manny Pacquiao get off their tremendous backsides and get a fight done.

Go on, let's go dudes.  No one would mind if somebody would pull off a sneaky-smart move again.  At least the other guy can actually smack a few hard hits in return.

Wish and Hope, Pray and Weep

I wish there could be something said 
For the consciences of those with good intentions
Not that I have surfeit of any. 
Still, it would be nice to know 
If I could turn my life around 
On the strength of wishes and prayers. 


We all know very well 
That faith may grant us the reprieve 
To sleep soundly at night - 
But tomorrow, our quandaries still exist
Nothing has changed from the time we slept, 
Nothing has come about from wishing and hoping. 


Sometimes, though, the state of mind we have 
Prepares us for the inevitability of failure -
Saying, "such was not meant to be."
It was a nice ride, but one ends up with nothing 
Nothing to show for the depths of despair fathomed 
Nothing to show for the power of miracles expected 
Nothing to show for the oceans of tears shed. 


Life can sometimes be awfully cruel
That the things we enjoy are signs of her kindness. 
Against the stark bleakness of loneliness 
Truth, Love and Beauty find spaces to bloom. 


Before we latch on to passing fancies 
Or future glories that we will someday reap
Never let the slow escape of air from our life 
Overtake us, and leave us gasping us air 
Wishing and hoping, praying and weeping 
That we will never be condemned 
For the sins of our apathy and neglect.

Stakes

Interesting that the word "stake" - even with its various contexts - purports to some form of action being taken. Staking a claim.  Playing for high stakes.  Drive the stake through the ground.

I've had an off week - I know this because I know I underperformed on my old standard.  Part of it is some stress from last week, I would surmise.  But mostly it's because my passport is missing and my residence permit (iqama) has not been processed.

I am in a whole boatload of trouble, if things don't get resolved quickly - at the very least, our people should find my passport.  This incident is part of the sickness that ails this company - still, I wouldn't go so far as condemn the whole building for a few rotting walls.

Or would I?  Should I?

So now this game has even raised its stakes - the better I get, the more challenges I have to hurdle.  And keep on hurdling.  Also, have to drive a tough stake into my indolent hide.

Ouch.

Thought Intrusion, or a Safe Title To A Rambling Post

Almost two years ago, I wrote this piece on the suddenness of death and endless possibilities of life.

Still way further back, another piece I wrote six years back talks about how some things and people take on added importance in our lives, and the degree by which they enrich our lives is somewhat miraculous.

I realize I have been going on for such a long time. I don't know who it is out there that is reading this blog ... if what I am writing is doing something for you, I am glad and you are most welcome even if I don't receive your thanks.

But I am still pleased to tell my stories, if only to indulge my penchant for telling them.

Last Tuesday, I attended my first Toastmaster meeting in over a year. I was a charter member of our company club and was an integral part of the organization during its initial years, but my interest has waned as work and other projects took precedence. Also, something about the way our club was going on irked me. This may have more to do with me and my state of being than what was going on in general.

I'd rather keep the name of this new club to myself for the meantime. This is a club older than the one I used to attend, and is a more distinguished club because of its diversity and (most likely) more talented pool of speakers. Still, the air of informality in the club was both refreshing to me and at the same time, was an awful turn-off. This isn't a show-and-tell or a recital in school. Such things allow some pettiness. This is supposed to be a professional organization.

Quasi-Quiet Time

The day is about to end though I have to say it ended much earlier.

Spent most of the day on the tube watching the last few episodes of "Game of Thrones." I've read the first four books and now working on the fifth of "Song of Ice and Fire" (the first novel of which is the source material of the HBO series), so I'm not really at all surprised at how it would go. The show is largely faithful to the source material, which is a good thing. I've seen the show twice over now and it's still good.

It's good to just unplug from all the work-related stress and kick back. Anyhow, trying to keep Monday from coming too soon, and work will be back in a fury.

Vacations like this one actually ruin the whole thing for me - it's long enough for one to get lazy, but not long enough for one to do something creative. I can't travel out of the country because my work documents aren't ready yet, which pisses me off. Out of my control though. Makes the prospect of working closer to the Philippines a lot better. Still a pipe dream at this stage, though.

One objective at a time. Inhale, say once, exhale. Only the passage of time teaches one the virtue of patience. Sure, I'd like my life to get somewhere else pretty darned fast, but there's always causality - one thing must be done before it leads to another, before I get to the desired goal.

I was about to get into some bit of gardening but I realize I am getting into a lot of unnecessary metaphors. The vision has been stated, just get it done.

All of a sudden, I'm excited for Monday to come. Bring it on.

Where is the Ticket Cutter? Oh, There.

Now this idea of metering is something new.

I have to concede I like the Euro way of approaching prostitution - as an essential evil. That's not to say I condone the practice, just that like other issues, the practice can be regulated and contained.

I could imagine the same being done in the Philippines - and with the way things are done over there, it won't work. Some smart fellow would steal the meters and make a mark-up, or the tickets will be counterfeited. Such is our way.

End of Discussion

Sometimes, doing the wrong thing earns you some amount of fame. Up to you if you call it wanted or unwanted publicity.

I insulated myself from much of outside news these past few weeks so I could bring myself to concentrate on work. Pinoy netizens were all agog about a student's essay on the English language. Worth the furor? Hardly. What is more revealing is that the Manila Bulletin mutilated itself by removing it from its servers.

I don't know Mr. Soriano personally - maybe in person he is respectful, refined, keenly observant, and boringly likeable. Maybe that is why his lack of intellectual depth is coddled by a content-hungry site like the Manila Bulletin. His article has enough candor and self-deprecation that it actually hooks the unattentive reader into his premise - English is important because it is essential to success and worldwide discourse; Filipino is our identity and we have trampled all over it, and we have to use it to survive in our own country whose masses are less educated for not being able to converse in English. Feel guilty for not being able to speak well in Filipino, but be thankful that you're a good English speaker.

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.

Flicking the Blade

I had actually meant to post my latest rant TODAY but I forgot to change the dateline! Tsk tsk. That's been how long I've been meaning to write, or at least put something down.

Somehow there is some balance in between work, not working, and finding something creative to do. Work is fine, or to use a swordsman's words, the blade remains sharp through gritted, and the blows come swiftly as if the weapon were part of my arm. Still easy knocking that down, not requiring a great lot of effort, though I wish I would. Put in a better effort, that is.

Not working means finding sleep since my mind is active almost all the time. There is always something that engages me, even by just thinking. In the longest of my ruminations I somehow come out with a mishmash of half-baked epiphanies, a few more bits of my symphony of gratitude to God, and all those precious to-do lists to tick off when I arrive at the office.

I do need a hobby. Not just this one, of course. I still shadowbox, but not enough to satisfy me.

Let me mark this space again - later today I will officially begin my duties under another formal superior. Let's see what happens next. I sincerely hope my daft parts don't come out of the woodwork and start experimenting again with my balance. I don't believe so, but this will be my systems check.

Grasp the hilt, feel the weight of the sword, and flick the blade... swing, step, parry ...and the dance continues.

Just a random rant - since I am getting loopy right now - I sincerely HATE all the bandwagon fans in football. Especially if they're ignorant. I can stand the frontrunners, but for the rest? Find something else to give meaning to your lives, you voyeurs. But all the same, these are the people who buy all the tickets and the merchandise just to prove their fandom.

Yes, I think it's just about time to sleep. Sword into the scabbard now.

Move It. Move In.

I'm moving. Yes I'm moving.

I've been saying this for the last thirteen days and yet nothing has happened.

I have finally equipped my own flat - I don't have everything yet, but I do have enough for my bedroom - except that I don't feel like moving in.

Work has been the center of my small universe and somehow it isn't the same when you close the doors and go home. I am squatting in a friend's flat - but I know this wouldn't last forever. I have to leave.

One of the reasons would probably have to do with the fact that my bathroom isn't completely fitted after I replaced the toilet. I would have to get that finished ASAP. But being indolent when it comes to these matters I will probably procrastinate, again.

I am thoroughly enjoying Riyadh - there is a lot of charm in this city and I haven't gone around a lot yet. Never mind the malls, even though it would be great to walk around in free air-conditioning. But, as of yet, there is still no place where I would hang my hat and call home.

Solemn, Fail.

The thoughts themselves have faded into the cracks,
Stilled, unseemingly by the mind eager to please.
The morning runs at inspiration have run out of breath ---
The evening jaunts into ecstasy have gone haggard and dim.
Such lies we feed ourselves, never setting foot on truth's hallowed ground
Once the exuberance of ignorance palls, night comes a-stealing
Taking the wonder and smothering it with worries and dreams.
For dreams push ever forward, ever taking us from the moment
While worries burden us with the convenience of the mundane.
That tail of starlight will leave us eventually feeling flush
But when we close our eyes the dream offers no comfort
For life, ever constant and ravaging, invades our helpless nest.

Sudden Death

A man died in front of our factory as a result of major road accident. Another one may yet die from his injuries.

The highway that fronts us is a major road traveling northward and eastward - it is well-paved but does not have the features that makes other highways safer.

Death is like a thunderbolt - or in this case, like an accident that happens in a split second.

After Hours

my background music: Bamboo

I am staring at the screen and no words come to mind.
Blank, devoid of anything original.
My only wish is that I had exchanged this lack of spark for endorphins from exercise rather than a long day of discussions.
But I am getting used to this.
If only I can settle my moving in to a new flat the soonest.
Yeah, maybe that will turn the trick.
Finally, payday is coming round the block.

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.

On the Rails

I arrived in Riyadh in the full eye of a sandstorm. I traveled on Saturday afternoon from Dammam and was due in Riyadh in the early evening.

It was my first real ride on an independently-powered train (as opposed to the light rail systems used in mass transportation) and I would say IT WAS A BLAST.

Not an earthshaking thing by any means of course, but it satisfied my initial curiosity about trains. It also helps that some of my most enjoyable moments in movies are about trains or had trains as settings: Silver Streak, Murder on the Orient Express, Narrow Margin, Manchurian Horror Express (outside the Philippines, it was known simply as "Horror Express"), Before Sunrise, and Unstoppable, among others.

Of course it isn't as cool as the movies make them out to be, but Saudi trains are fine by me. Even better than cramped airplane seats. One can complain about the speed but trains are really safe and the best mode of transport overland. I can only deplore why trains are not better utilized in the Philippines but that is a story for another day.

My recent posting is more operational and conceptual - a fact that dawned upon me the first day I came to work. After several years of being in this line of work, deciding what to do becomes less of a chore than proceeding on how to do it, and how soon. Which is the fun part - my brain will take a little backseat while I stick my nose into all the goings-on.

Yes, things could go so wrong. Life has a way of righting the ship, or to use my railway metaphor, derailing is a normal part of life. Getting on the skids may be really tough, but it is important to stay on track and keep on chugging.

If you ask me the homesick question, I have found a wonderful answer: I always yearn to be beside the people I love most. For now I am taking a break from them. They are not encompassed in my immediate space, but they are still there, just the same. The countdown has started.

As for the Philippines? Never mind.

Postscript: I am aiming for a sort of travelogue but then I realize I'm not yet sufficiently mobile to comment. They say Riyadh has its own unique wonders. Let's see.

Mr. Potatohead

I have lain back several times on my hotel bed in this short week. Being in control of the TV has been a bit of a new thing again, really. Mind you, I have been sort of a couch potato in Manila, though mostly not in front of the TV, but the PC. Watching the tube means I only get to watch what the others get to watch. That means anything my nephew was watching - Playhouse Disney (Disney Junior) Nickolodeon, Animal Planet, Disney Channel, or whatever educational DVD that is playing.

Watching TV here can get to be cloying, since local content is something I don't understand and international content is limited to movie re-runs or watching CNN, the latter of which isn't so bad but one can get heartburn from watching all the depressing news in the world. The hotel does not carry Filipino channels except some public announcement channel - either based in Kuwait or Dubai. Watching that kind of stuff felt quaint, like seeing the plays I produced (haha, even I would say that my work is less than satisfying, at least for me).

Getting back control of the TV? I was expecting to be wowed, as all couch potatoes would, even though secretly in the back of their minds they know they would be disappointed.

Yup, you guessed it. TV has officially become boring.

Now, if only the hotel could hook up wi-fi access in our rooms instead of just the lobby cafe...

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.

Happy Returns

I shut down writing on this blog while I was in Manila. For those waiting on me to update on this space detailing my life in the Philippines, well, so sorry, this is supposed to be my expatriate blog, not a life journal (though of course it has been, like so, for a long time).

Facebook is the culprit. It has managed to make a mess of the long form of writing. It gives everybody a chance to express an opinion without thinking that stuff through. Fortunately for many, that is just enough for the kind of expression that they need.

I arrived in Saudi Arabia on Sunday morning around 3:00am local time, made my way out of the airport with six others who would join our company at 4:30am, and arrived at my temporary accommodation at around 5:00am. After a short nap and a shower, I immediately reported for work that same morning.

There is enough excitement in me to get started on my job, but I am realist enough to admit that this initial enthusiasm is not the best tool for me now. It should, naturally, fuel my drive while I am adjusting again to life in the Middle East. As with all things, excellence cannot be guaranteed by wishes and words, but must always be validated by action, day in and day out. I can occasionally let off the throttle to give me some rest, but I am ready to blaze some trails.

I won't be defined by my job. Perhaps my reluctance to do exactly so put in me a position to squander a lot of opportunities. I have put myself and others to grief for that - be that as it may, I have squeezed as much comfort and lessons to ensure that I will not be a cautionary tale. Some of the good I put into my life had made that possible, for which I am grateful.

For the next months, while I regain my bearings, I will aim for the job to define me.

There are no red shoes to wear, but in case I am lonely, I will close my eyes and tap my heels together three times, and think to myself, "There's no place like home..."

Keeping my fingers crossed.

I Survived

It's another rainy day here in Manila, one of many countless rainy days that characterize the All Saints/All Souls Days here in the Philippines. Apt that the world should weep while the souls of the dearly departed rest.

Restless could be the best way to describe how I feel. I wouldn't trade the Philippines for any other land - this is my own home soil - yet staying here makes me wish that I were far away.

It's been more than a month since I returned - I was planning to make a diary of sorts of my (mis)adventures in Manila since my return, but even that lost some of its appeal after some time. In the wake of misinformed posts on social networking media, getting into one's inner psyche for the appreciation of all isn't too healthy. If I wanted to do that, maybe I should launch my own reality show.

That being said, it still feels strange to be waking up each day in my own bed, whizzing into my own bowl, and easing into my own sofa watching cable from the TV I bought six years ago on my second electronics purchase in Saudi Arabia (the first being a handphone). Strange, but still very welcome, is the virtual omnipresence of moisture in the air, if not through the rain, through the humidity.

I MISSED MANILA. Not because there are people here who are very important to me, I literally miss the feel of being here. Of being home.

But now that I am here, isn't it ironic that I want to leave, again?

Gayunpaman, Salamat

Makatagpo man ng kabiguan
Panindigan ang pagkakamali
At gayunpaman,
Salamat, Panginoon
sa dumating na pagkakataon
sa dakila Ninyong biyaya ng buhay
Ng pamilya at kaibigan
Ng saya at kalusugan
Ng mahimbing na tulog
At paggising sa bawa't bagong umaga.

Hindi magwawakas ang buhay
Patuloy pa rin ang ikot ng mundo
Magsanga man ang daang tinatahak -
Manahimik lamang at maging banayad
Sapagka't naghihintay lamang ang kapalaran
Upang ating hulmahin
At bigyan ng kabuluhan.

Seven months after I had let my heart go free of this place my body is finally physically leaving Saudi Arabia. Saturday evening, barring any hitches, I would board the plane and fly back to Manila.

I have struggled to harden my heart like stone but it is impossible.

Just as it has become the fount of my sorrows, this land and the people I have met in it are forever the source of my joy and my complete personhood.

I harbor no bitterness for the mistakes I have made and while others may deplore the consequences of my actions, I thank them for their concern. Life presents odds and ends to the stories that we write for ourselves. Today's episode may end badly, but faith and hope teach us there is always tomorrow.

After all, through all the difficulties and challenges of life, we are still here. I am still standing. And as long as I am here, I might as well get on with the rest of my life.

Sure, it can get scary. But that's the fun in it. If everything were handed to us on a plate, we'd stop appreciating the beauty and complexity of life.

The Good Book says, "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" The lesson for me is - I don't have to understand. All I have to do is close my eyes, make a wish, and believe.

Balot man ng pighati at kaba ang puso ko ngayon, gayumpaman, salamat. Nagpapasalamat ako sa bawat sandali ng paghahanapbuhay ko rito. Salamat nagkatagpo tayo at naging bahagi ako ng buhay ninyo.

In Darkness There is Hope

We have familiar experience of the order, the constancy, the perpetual renovation of the material world which surrounds us. Frail and transitory as is every part of it, restless and migratory as are its elements, still it abides. It is bound together by a law of permanence, and though it is ever dying, it is ever coming to life again. Dissolution does but give birth to fresh modes of organization, and one death is the parent of a thousand lives.

Each hour, as it comes, is but a testimony how fleeting, yet how secure; how certain, is the great whole. It is like an image on the waters, which is ever the same, though the waters ever flow. The sun sinks to rise again; the day is swallowed up in the gloom of night, to be born out of it, as fresh as if it had never been quenched.

Spring passes into summer, and through summer and autumn into winter, only the more surely, by its own ultimate return, to triumph over that grave towards which it resolutely hastened from its first hour.

We mourn the blossoms of May because they are to wither; but we know that May is one day to have its revenge upon November, by the revolution of that solemn circle which never stops--- which teaches us in our height of hope, ever to be sober, and in our depth of desolation, never to despair. - John Henry Cardinal Newman

I have always found this short piece very inspiring, though strangely enough, I first read of it in William Peter Blatty's "The Exorcist."

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

It Isn't Just Enough to Mouth the Words

As I'm writing this piece today I am gently reminded by similar scenes at the close of each episode of "Doogie Howser, M.D." featuring Neil Patrick Harris. I am certain I don't have his IQ, but I would like to think that as an individual who has gone through life the normal (though at times, non-conformist) way, I'll have more mature sensibilities than him.

Or so I would like to believe.

Anyway, I have observed since the advent of more interactive social networking sites my capability to churn out blog entries has been clipped significantly. Gone are the links and other stuff I normally take note of. They're on Facebook. Gone are the smart-ish quotes (they've been posted as shout-outs.). Music videos? Jokes?

That irks me and disturbs me to some degree.

Yes, it's fun to have an audience out there, an audience which is helpless in chossing what stuff you are shoveling. In this case, we could be lucky if you one is some sort of internet maven who can look for unusual but interesting links. I have one such friend, though at times the posts are great and funny, they keep on coming in one after the other, as if the person cannot live without posting something. I'm not derisive, but in the minds of other people whose interests do not intersect, that could be sickening.

(Which reminds me, I'm so glad I've become my own censor since Facebook has become such a G-rated site, it could almost be called G-A-Y. No offense, everyone wants to be happy, right?)

There is that, so sometimes wishing for something gets you an unwanted surfeit of it.

How social networking has risen in the past few years has, for some reason, trivialized the whole process of communication. Our public selves have seemingly grown larger, but then again, our capacity to invent identities online also makes the process hollow.

Words are cheapened with all of this free communication.

It isn't just enough to mouth the words now, you have to think back whether you really mean them.

So Now I am the Boss, eh?

... And I didn't even vote.

Earlier today, Benigno Simeon Aquino III, or "Noynoy" (now, comes the dreaded, somewhat catchy and absurd, "P-Noy," signifying his moniker for his administration) was sworn in as the 15th President of the Republic of the Philippines.

This new administration is conscious of its symbols. In an obvious break with the symbols of the recent regime, it has done away with the trappings of power and aspired for a simple, street-smart austerity. Or so how the PR handlers of P-Noy make it out to be.

While I watched this morning - the live satellite feed timing into right nicely between my morning shower and breakfast - I could not help but be moved. Yes, I am totally aware that our next President spent his entire life as a virtual mediocrity, always overshadowed by the legacy of his parents, and not even having the courtesy of going against the grain. In this his younger sister Kris seems to have inherited all the bravura of their late father.

But this mediocrity, strangely enough, is so indicative of my own generation of Filipinos, whose most significant inroads to the worldwide consciousness have been drama queens and starlets, boxing champs and sex scandals. When he took to the dais, and with his plaintive tone addressed the nation and the world, it was as if he took the form and shape of WHO WE WERE - a generation lost, weary of self-doubt, wanting both the answers and the relief and not having to know them or what they cost.

It was the voice of a generation wanting to be validated, wanting to hope against the very real and tangible taste of disappointment.

It was the voice which propelled the dream of EDSA.

Post-Traumatic Therapy

Decompresing almost the whole day after that disappointing loss in the NBA Finals. The Boston Celtics had it in their hands, but they took their collective feet off the pedal. I hate the fact that the Lakers won (and in such an ugly fashion), but the part of me that respects good basketball when it's played says the Black Mamba and his crew, especially El Matador Pau Gasol, deserve their props. I still hate them though.

Saw Korean vampire film Thirst in the afternoon and I'm squeamish as anyone can get (which is why I did not choose to take up the medical profession), and there were enough scenes for me to whimper (picture that, and that is even scarier than the movie). The movie lost steam with a subplot in the middle, but for the squeam scenes alone, the movie was cool! Bonus points for the leading female star for looking like Jennifer Lee of the Viva Hot Babes.

It's the evening and I'm already programming myself for the grind tomorrow. No need to be hopelessly obscure. Today on the whole, is disjointed, and there's no reason to fix it. I don't have pretend to know what it is, since I haven't got a clue.

Segue the Boys from Liverpool with this rip-roaring track. Great piano riff from John, Paul's bass is pounding, and George's guitar solo screams at me from the speakers.

Now if I can only bite someone head's off, if only figuratively, to complete my catharsis.

Rrrrooowwrrrr!!!

Looky-Looky...

Chilling to the sounds of: The Beatles
Literally chilled by: Zamil Classic Premier (beats the 40C heat anytime)
Chillaxing event to look forward to: Game 6 stomping by the Celtics on the Lakers (Wednesday early morning Riyadh time). Keeping my fingers crossed anyway.
Cool thing but I'm not proud of it: Stealing wi-fi access from my next-door neighbor.

Switched desings to keep it fresh. However, keeping it real in terms of the green theme - I like the Celtics, but I like other green things too - like, uh... (pause)... my high school? The Green Lantern? The Green Arrow? Regan O'Neill's snot?

Methinks Blogger is trying its best to keep relevant in the face of other social networking media. Still, too much useless information comes out that doesn't really make any sense in the end. Sticking to blogging, thank you.

That will be the day when I switch to Twitter. Heck, one day I may eat these words. Keep posted then.

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.

Typical

In tribute to John Nash, and to illustrate the plight of the worst kind of nerdom.

Sometimes it sucks to be me.

Value

Every positive value has its price in negative terms... the genius of Einstein leads to Hiroshima.
-- Pablo Picasso

It's Probably Me

It's almost too easy to deflect the semi-embarrassment that many people expect from me when they ask my age and then ask if I'm married.

No, I'm not married, I would say. There are a hundred different reasons (perhaps you can even say a thousand, if you like) why it is so, and if you choose to believe them, I can start a list. Of course the catch is if you would believe.

Some people just can't get away from expectations. What else is our purpose in life, they would say. Men who hold out being single as long as you have must be gay, are you sure you aren't?

And then comes the right question, to put it into perspective: Do you really want to get married? As if this were a rhetorical question that asks: Do you really want to be happy?

It could be called semi-tragic, but when I answer all these questions most people walk away with two conclusions:

1) That fellow is downright strange.
2) Hmmm. Too picky. He will die alone.
3) It won't be long before he admits he's gay.

Ehem, I seem to be jumping the gun here. If people would bother to listen, before they conclude anything about me, my state of being is simply explained.

(And before I start, since I'm writing parenthetically, there was a time that one of my uncles, in a drunken stupor, debated me on this subject. It was a good thing I wasn't drunk at the time. I could almost quote him word for word. But then, that would be unfair. Abusing drunks that way would be like stealing milk from a baby.)

I am myself, first and foremost, defined only by my BEING.

I am not just someone's son, brother, friend, enemy, employee, co-worker, fellow citizen. Hard as I may try to be someone's husband or life partner, right now I am not.

I am not because several series of choices brought me to this time of my life where I don't have a relationship. Some would say wrong timing. I, on the other hand, would admit that many a time, I had fallen into foolhardiness. Came on too strong too soon for one girl. Came on too weak, too little, or too late for another. Not altogether impossible to change direction, but not an easy task either.

I wish that there would be someone in my life right now, but my wishing won't make it so, and in the meantime, it would be rather stupid of me to wallow in self-pity over my state. I'm like the best friend in the movie who's loveable but for all the wrong reasons. Like Janis Ian, I learned the truth when I was seventeen.

And finally, it would be oh so very convenient to say that I'm gay. Makes life simpler, a lot easier to fall back and become a stereotype. Naturally that isn't fair to me nor is it wise to stereotype homosexuals. They too, have deeper reasons for who they are beyond the understood convention.

So no, I'm not gay. Not even close. Not even that I love showtunes, dig the theater, or appreciate art. Gay people don't have a monopoly on the things I like.

Which goes back full circle - certainly it would be great to be in a relationship, to have additional purpose. But since I am myself, my own being, I am not and will not be validated by a specific relationship.

Wouldn't it be great to have my life defined by one?

I don't know. In the past two years, even here, I've had my chances. But no, still no ring. If it's not other people, it's probably me.

And that's the heart of it - I am not ready. Yes, I have a character defect. No different from others who get married and cash in on all the cliches - including infidelity, marital violence, or abusing one's children. No different from others who embrace misery for the sake of filling the social obligations of a marriage. They picked their poison, and so did I.

For now, I'd rather take the sin of omission.

Being married is not a bad thing - but it is not a good thing to get into because of social pressure. It will happen in due course. I won't be in this state of mind forever, or maybe someone will come along and help me take the next step.

Until then, I am single. I survive.

Epic Fail

John Mason (Sean Connery): Are you sure you're ready for this?
Stanley Goodspeed (Nicolas Cage) : I'll do my best.
John Mason: Your "best"! Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and f*ck the prom queen.
- "The Rock"

Thanks to Doug Benc/Getty Images.

I found some semblance of good news when I got up this morning. My beloved Celts won another nail-biter on the road against the Orlando Magic.

I'm sure the casual observer won't care and the rabid fan has probably had indigestion over this piece of news, so I won't rehash the details. Go find sports bloggers.

Just my little take-away from this --- in sports as in life, we have a surfeit of front-runners. And, as with most front-runners, when push comes to shove, instead of focusing, they fold. Instead of rising to the occasion, they crack under pressure.

I don't want to hate on the Orlando Magic, but no one assembles a team of "nice guys" and expects to win the ultimate prize. Cuteness and public relations win you fans, but they don't win you championships. For years, many people hated on the Spurs because they played a style of ball that hardly pleased the crowd. But no one could deny their championship record and performance.

Losers only whine about lost opportunities. Winners revel in making their own luck.

You Know You've Watched Too Much Political News When...

Falling Down
(Music and Lyrics: Noel Gallagher)
(Oasis)

A summer sun that blows my mind
Is falling down on all that I’ve ever known
Time will kiss the world goodbye
We're falling down on all that I’ve ever known
Is all that I’ve ever known
A dying scream makes no sound
Calling out to all that I’ve ever known
Here am I lost and found, calling out to all

We live a dying dream
If you know what I mean
And all that I’ve ever known
It's all that I’ve ever known

Catch the wheel that breaks the butterfly
I cry the rain that fills the ocean wide
I tried to talk with god to no avail
I call him up in and out of nowhere
Said if you won't save me please don't waste my time

All that I’ve ever known is all that I’ve ever known

Catch the wheel that breaks the butterfly
I cry the rain that fills the ocean wide
I tried to talk with God to no avail
I call Him up in and out of nowhere
Said if You won't save me please don't waste my time

A summer sun it blows my mind
It's fallin' down on all that I’ve ever known
Time to kiss the world goodbye
Falling down on all that I’ve ever known
Is all that I’ve ever known

Wish I could be more elaborate about my state of the mind; well – this is the closest approximation. I could go on and on about everything else – but sometimes silence has the loudest voice, and all I can let out is a primal scream.

There, there. That’s the end of that nightmare. Time to wake up.

Beginning, Again

The beautiful thing about life is that while you are not ended, nothing happens to you. Maybe that's not such a beautiful thing, after all. The opposite of progress is not destruction - it's entropy.

What I actually meant to say is that - while one lives, there is always hope that things, however bad, dark, or depressing, won't be so forever. All these burdens, they shall pass.

Still, rocky times make for interesting times - or at the very least, a lot of fodder for some overdue bellyaching (in my case, it can never be overdue, with the size of my belly, LOL!). In the past few weeks I had decided to travel and leave KSA, reconsidered and took another job, planned for vacation but never got around to taking it, and then started my job in response to what at best was, being ignored by one's former colleagues.

Yeah, I've got it bad. I should be depressed, maybe shoot myself, even. NOT!

The beautiful thing about life is that when something ends, another begins. In the eye of whatever storm one may pass through, one can still pull out a chance to start something.

Is it all that fun to do everything all over again? I hope, this time, I have learned the things I needed to learn and do something different. Life-altering, even.

Well, maybe.

Spaced

"And above all things, never think that you're not good enough yourself. A man should never think that. My belief is that in life people will take you at your own reckoning."
--- Isaac Asimov

In the silence of my heart
I listen to You Lord.
In the emptiness of my mind
I submit to Your will.

There is no subtlety in which I can hide
There is no reticence into which I can sink.

Clipped Wings

Where there is no vision, the people perish; but he that keeps the law, happy is he. - Proverbs 29:18

One realizes that there are just a few paths left when anger takes over. I prayed to God for a resolution to my quandary with my passport, and all signs point out that instead of taking an ill-timed and hurried vacation, I'd rather go back to work.

Mind you, this was not an easy decision and I still feel I need the time off to go back home. But as I have learned the past few months, patience is a virtue I must still embrace. I have to get back to where I started, when the limitations to this place were all mental and my estrangement from the Philippines is merely a mental construct.

I must keep that vision in focus, lest again I fall prey to my weakness and fade away. I forgot that lesson last year, and paid for it dearly.

Of course I could still do it. The problem is, life goes by so quickly back at home they may have more need of me than I of them. I guess, they too, have their own thinking to do.

All Set for Overdrive

Nobody gonna take my head
I got speed inside my brain
Nobody gonna steal my head
Now that I'm on the road again
Oooh I'm in heaven again
I've got everything
Like a moving ground an open road
and everything

I love it and I need it
I seed it
Eight cylinders all mine
Alright hold on tight
I'm a highway star
--- Deep Purple, "Highway Star"

Yeah! Slot in the tape/CD/USB/iPod to the car stereo system and rev up the engine. My secret desire today is to drive a semi into the office of our government relations people and mow them down in one swift run-over. And if it isn't enough, back up a little and catch up on the stragglers.

I can't help it. I'm yearning to put my spirits on overdrive, and they're cramping my style. Seriously, they really are, but to give them the benefit, things aren't much in their control. On the other hand, most of them are doing so little to change the way they work.

Still, one learning I can pick up from here is that we often demand too much from others as opposed to giving ourselves a break when we fail. If we put the pedal to the metal, then we must do it for ourselves too.

Of course, the sneaky-dark feeling keeps on creeping up once and again. It's the fourth day of passport watch, and if I have to take the fifth I might seriously go "Jeremy" on these fellows. Yes, grasshoppers, run around and beg for your lives!

Scrunch, crunch.

Coming Home

And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept: and as he went, thus he said, O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son! - 2 Samuel 18:33

I wish I were writing of happier times now as I am making plans for coming home.

I haven’t been in the Philippines for twenty months – longer than usual for me, but not so much as for others who have made a life here in Saudi Arabia.

There was so much drama going on in my life the past two weeks – from the fateful decision to turn my back on my company, to the amazing opportunity made available by one of my former bosses, up to the time I accepted the job offer. That would have ended it, except that I couldn’t travel back to the Philippines because of formalities in processing my documents.

It’s been a week since that day that my life had been stopped and started – a few more dramas like not having funds available from the bank, the tension of waiting --- and waiting. I had packed Saturday evening since my flight was scheduled at 1:10 Monday morning. I could hardly sleep – anticipating, with half ruefulness, that the drama was about to end.

But another moment for drama came --- I received a text from our mutual friend Charlie that Kuya Josue was being revived at the hospital. The gravity of the news hadn’t sunk in yet --- he was being revived as he had already flatlined.

Perspective

Well, this post must come in one way or another.

To our Lord in Heaven, I would like to say thank you for another day in this life. Another cycle has been completed, another year has been hurdled. Of course, it's just any ordinary day.

The world isn't any more special because I was born this day so many years ago. It was another day just like the others that we let pass through our lives.

Because we do. Sometimes, events awaken us and bother us to try and take stock of our existence. For some, it is observing the tides of history as they swirl back and forth and around the important figures in the life of our nation. For others, it is through the fortunes being made, about to be made, and soon to be lost in the world of commerce.

For others it is human achievement in the field of cooperation, in competition, and sometimes with both.

For most it is tragedy, whether direct and personal, or experiences lived vicariously in the lives of others.

My life, in perspective, is no more than the sum of experiences that come to bear on this moment, this reality. It can only be special because others make it so.

My mind tells me, intellectually, that some part of existence has made sense, that I should be glad that I am living the life that I am living now, that I am much more fortunate. I must have wasted more opportunities that life has made available for me than what has been available to others. And yet I am still here.

I am not dead. I am not ended. This life is not without purpose because today, and the past few months, have been personal lows. And yet, yes, I have to fight back my own tears welling up in me, of shame that I have not made the most of what I have been given, and of immense gratitiude that I have been given so much.

I celebrate the living that I have gone through and that others make me feel special and purposeful, even though at times it doesn't feel that way.

There were universes of regret that I went through when former President Aquino passed away. I smile at the people who belittle her contributions to the world stage; at the same time I squirm every time someone utters her name like a benediction.

This generation, my generation, must never forget what the first Edsa made possible --- that we are capable of coming together, inspiring one another, forgetting our self-serving agenda. That was the seed Cory Aquino planted. She tried her best to keep it going during her administration, but in the end, good intentions, and the desire to uproot or destroy the vestiges of dictatorship, are never enough.

The dream was there, but we woke up to something else. And for most, it was that the dream was betrayed, with epic fails at the Presidential Commission for Good Government, the flawed Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Law, numerous rightist coups, and the worst - that the mechanisms for oppression remained, only that new people were in the saddle.

For me, it was that the dream was fragile, and that like most people who had just broken out of jail, the prisoners savored freedom too much but did not want to take responsibility, or did not have the tools to do so.

I cried for Cory because I cried for that part of our nation's spirit that has been betrayed so many times, that, like a battered child, it knows no more than to batter back. But all that child needs is acceptance, and inspiration to believe. When we lifted the veil of mourning, that was the spirit waiting for another chance.

I hope this time Noynoy Aquino and Mar Roxas do something different. My cynicism derides my hope, but I can keep dreaming. So far, the "realists" have embraced the two-faced nature of Manny Villar, or the stolid business-as-usual stance of Gilbert Teodoro. Hmmm, yes, there are some attractions, but there isn't enough deodorant to go around to mask the stench of of decay and corruption.

All around the world, people have forgotten that it was we who made the banner of "people power" soar high. That many of the icons who rose during that period - Lech Walesa, Albert Fujimori, Vaclav Havel, Mikhail Gorbachev - have fallen short should remind us ideals do have a price, and to transform people it is not ideology, but integrity, that ensures success.

Harvey Dent in "The Dark Knight" says it so well- "You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

We have witnessed how things went topsy-turvy when the so-called moral guardians found themselves eating crow when their Anointed One, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, just didn't turn out any more kosher than Erap - in fact, she was much more manipulative and Machiavellian than anyone expected. It was masterful and deliberate, the symmetry of her destruction has some appeal.

BREAK THE SEALS BREAK THE SEALS BREAK THE SEALS LET TARMON GAIDON COME!

When will we ever learn that the flow of history is against us, and without our own personal contribution, that tide will never be stanched.

I saw a Facebook post from one of my friends showing a YouTube video of "Banal na Aso, Santong Kabayo" by Yano which was filmed 15, 16 years back.

The generation that was ranting for change is the generation that is coming into leadership now. And that's us.

So what have we done so far?

Are we just mere witnesses? What happened to the optimism of "Yes We Can!" or the supposed sea change that was about to come? What now? Have we gotten too lazy, too jaded, to ever see that the light lit in the windy darkness, must now, more than ever, be protected against the forces of that darkness?

Where is the moral outrage now?

Just to put this world into its natural perspective.

And I still think my personal problems outweigh the world's.

It Isn't As Bad As You Think It Is

An Arabic proverb goes like this: "When what you want doesn't happen, learn to want what does."

I just finished the last post when I realized I should have ended it with this turn of phrase. Things won't turn around quickly, but at least you won't be as miserable while you're digging yourself out of that frickin' hole.

Breaking The Faith

Stopping updates to a blog is like rending a valued relationship to shreds --- it takes forever to get the tattered pieces back together, but you have to.

Because it feels good that I can be myself in this space, but don't have to be overindulgent.

You got me, Constant Reader (whoever you may be). I broke the faith, destroyed the covenant that binds the writer to his audience. I stopped writing. I lost my voice.

In much the same way I broke the tiny threads that bound this blog together, I pretty much fried 2009 - no great scientific discovery there - and let so many of the gains that I made during my stay here in Saudi Arabia ALMOST slip away.

Strangely enough, I find that most of what I did was necessary. Not correct, mind you, not correct at all, but we're not in the business of being prissy and perfect.

Long ago I already threw away a life of predictability and happiness for a life of meaning. Anyone can fault me, can reproach me for making that choice, and can smile in smug self-satisfaction over this and that material success or recognition they have accomplished.

People, you can do it. I know you want to. Say, "I told you so."

However, to quote one of my favorite existentialists, Mr. William Martin Joel, "You may be right, I may be crazy - But it just might be a lunatic your're looking for."

Face it, you need me. I may be all down and all that, but my karma is good, baby! I'm plugged into the purpose of my universe, and, to continue Mr. Joel's famous quote, "Turn out the light, don't try to save me..."

If it turns out bourgeois mediocrity is where most of us are headed, well, pardon me if I'm not rushing to be in line. I may be slow to the goal, but I'll appreciate all the more for savoring the sweets of the other side.

But enough of that. I almost closed down this blog - I even came up with a post, "Coming Home." Yes sir, I almost did that, but it just wasn't meant to be.

This land has a claim on me for a little while longer.

So, until then, I'll be seeing you around.

Just Because...

Down in the Hole

When you walk through the garden
You gotta watch your back
Well I beg your pardon
Walk the straight and narrow track
Iff you walk with Jesus
He's gonna save your soul
You gotta keep the devil
Way down in the hole

He's got the fire and the fury
At His command
Well you don't have to worry
If you hold on to Jesus' hand
We'll all be safe from Satan
When the thunder rolls
Just gotta help me keep the devil
Way down in the hole

All the angels sing about Jesus' mighty sword
And they'll shield you with their wings
And keep you close to the Lord
Don't pay heed to temptation
For his hands are so cold
You gotta help me keep the devil
Way down in the hole
--- Tom Waits, "Way Down in the Hole"

I spent the better part of my downtime watching the complete five seasons of "The Wire" from HBO. It has been some three-odd years since I wanted to see the show, but of course it isn't available on Philippine TV (it took some time before local execs warmed up to "The Sopranos," and then again, still with heavy censorship), and I didn't have access to the DVDs. The show came highly recommended from some of my friends, though seriously I only picked up on it because two of my favorite sports bloggers, Bill Simmons and Jason Whitlock, dedicated an entire podcast to it in March 2008.

The show is gritty, grey, and heavy on realism. Policemen and criminals are treated humanly, i.e. the cops are not white knights and the crooks are not outright blackguards. The show started slowly because of the dense backstory and preparation for future events, but once things got together BAM! I was hooked. For several moments in the show I was waiting for some deus ex machina or some cheeseball endings or events (alright, I have to admit Omar Little's portrayal in Season Five was a bit of a stretch), but it never happened.

Bonus is that most of the guys are virtual unknowns outside of TV, though I recognized some guys like Dominic West (as the dickweed Theron in "300," playing Det. Jimmy McNulty), Larry Gilliard Jr. (as the sidekick to Sarah Michelle Gellar in "Simply Irresistible," playing D'Angelo Barksdale), Frankie Faison, Wood Harris (from "Remember the Titans," playing Avon Barksdale), and my personal favorite throughout the series, Idris Elba (various movies, but the one I remember best is "The Gospel"). Elba's Stringer Bell is, without doubt, one smooth mofo. I don't want to spoil the show for you, you've got to see it.

The haunting title track is amazing. I am seriously looking into starting a Tom Waits collection.

Wizard's First Rule

"People are stupid; given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anything. Because people are stupid, they will believe a lie because they want to believe it's true, or because they're afraid it might be true. People's heads are full of knowledge, facts and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true.

"People are stupid; they can only rarely tell the difference between a lie and the truth, and yet they are confident they can, and so are all the easier to fool."
--- The wizard Zedd, in Terry Goodkind's "Wizard's First Rule"

Watched season one of "Legend of the Seeker" and while it was a departure from the original "Sword of Truth" books, I didn't mind because Bridget Regan, who plays Kahlan Amnell in the show, is SMOKING hot. A little of the milkmaid-type along the Celtic prototype (examples: Lucy Lawless, Katherine Heigl, Meg Foster) but with a bit more character to her face. At least I can get a new inspiration. There's only so much you can get out of porn.

The Tragedy of Being Offline

This new modern world is just becoming too...modern for me. I mean, getting through the day to finish work and everything else depends greatly on computers, e-mail, decent telephone lines not including handphones.

So when I lost internet connectivity in the middle of June, it was like my world collapsed. At least my Internet identity, that is. I lost track of my Facebook updates. I couldn't sign on for all the Michael Jackson updates, the Farrah Fawcett updates, the rites of indignation over PGMA's State of the Nation address.

And yeah, I couldn't rant about how hard it was to eat crow over the LA Lakers winning the NBA title.

I couldn't express my jubilation when Roger Federer won at Wimbledon and thus pass Pete Sampras in the Grand Slam race among men (People conveniently forget Steffi Graf had 22).

I couldn't say my say about the ongoing turmoil in Iran, or how the current administration in the United States is being hamstrung by its own ideals.

The tragedy of being offline is that somehow you become less of yourself to the outside world. The truth is, you are more of yourself when you are not facing the computer and living life.

(And in the meantime, when my internet bill arrived it was, literally, a hot poker up my ass. It hurt --- I never knew it could cost that much. Lesson learned.)

Simple, But Not Really.

I'm sure many of you had that sick feeling of just having too much going on, you just want to shut down and stick your head somewhere like an ostrich in the sand. Well, that's how I felt about the past two weeks or so.

Sensor in my brain beeped loud and clear: INFORMATION OVERLOAD! Must shut down!

This whole Hayden-Katrina thing sends one clear message to the world about Filipinos - our concern about our public lives ain't worth no shit, please excuse the bad grammar. The sane things most people forget when they get into the discussion:

1) Private perversions, etc. --- If one wants to indulge in it, by all means get your partner to agree before going into it. Drugs, S&M, voyeurism, you name it, if you want to get into it, don't take unilateral action.

2) Public domain in private perversions --- Why the hell should we care? Unless...

3) Ethics in the public domain --- Hayden Kho, Jr. is a doctor and took the Hippocratic Oath. If he can't stay a decent person, he must, at least, for the sake of the profession, maintain the pretense of being one. Which leads us to the last premise...

4) Things that really matter "in aid of legislation" --- And investigations into the sordid sex lives of boy-toy cosmetic surgeons, the girls who become their thralls, their deluded mothers, or their Botoxed sugar mommies with aspirations to glory shouldn't be daily fare in our Senate. Thanks to the likes of Bong Revilla and Jinggoy Estrada, the circus is in town. Makes the notion of ethics being synonymous with "Philippine Senate" becoming all the more absurd.

As for the so-called "victim" (who ends up the winner in this issue all around, outside of the tabloids and showbiz talk shows), Katrina Halili, I have one message for you - You go girl! If you want to hook up with any random dude with looks or money (preferably both, if I read you correctly), go do it! Screw your way to the top of the showbiz heap if you believe that's necessary. It sure sucks to be notorious (but someone has to do it, 'no?), but it's always a good substitute for achieving success with your rather limited talent.

In the meantime, Congress foists on the Filipino public the monstrosity that is the Constituent Assembly for Charter Change. An abomination so vile I will endorse its abortion if it were a fetus. Jamby hasn't exactly killed off Manny Villar's ambitions with the C-5 scam, but it sure looks like Ping Lacson's withdrawal has been secured with the threat of new investigations. Hmmm, he may not have actually lost here, being kingmaker sometimes beats being king...

Also lost is the fact that for all the good work being put in by our public sector doctors, the Department of Health isn't up to snuff in handling epidemics. Be glad that Influenza A(H1N1) isn't your superkiller, the uncontrolled spread in the past few days shows we don't have the ability to fight back the virus, only to contain it...

I'm glad sports makes up for the vacuousness of life. I wanted Man U win the UEFA Champions League, but Barca winning it, and in such overpowering fashion, is a great substitute.

I'm happy that Roger Federer finally got over the hump and won the French Open this year. It's not the same seeing him beat Robin Soderling in the final, but Soderling beat that cabron Nadal and that's what matters. Glad to see Djokovic getting wiped out early, that fellow needs to be put down a peg or two. Sorry that Roddick isn't cut out for clay, and like Tim Henman, is proof that nice guys somehow don't succeed as much as they should. On to Wimbledon, Roger!

I'm glad that the ho-hum way Tiger Woods is stamping his dominance on the sport is turning me off; sometimes you don't have to witness greatness, just living in its shadow (and besides, I really hate watching golf).

And finally, I find myself strangely cheering on the Lakers in the NBA Finals. Maybe it's true I like mean mofo-egomaniacs like Kobe (who, like Hayden, should be listed as a confirmed sex offender). Maybe I prefer Phil Jackson's sangfroid than Stan Van Gundy's self-deprecation (to be fair, I haven't seen self-deprecation done with so much self-centeredness other than Larry "Nomad" Brown).

Or maybe, deep inside, I hate seeing nice guys like Dwight Howard --- though, in fairness to me, his "niceness" seems more to be a put-on than real. No real nice guy throws his coach under the bus just to flex his "muscles" in the team's pecking order.

Because, maybe, in truth, there are not a whole too many nice guys left.