LIGHTWORKS

Champorado

2018-10-20T11:24:00.001+08:00

experience does not make you a writer. what did Natalie just say? perhaps it is enough to be wounded and know how to write to really write. what is Saturday but minding what the daughter should be eating the whole day, now that she's still curled up in sleep at 11am. so there in the stove, champorado is a-cooking. I stir and stir until the soupy dark chocolate mixture turns thick, the rice fat and puffed with life. i was supposed to read something but stopped. one has to concentrate, to put every ounce of passion to what one does, whether it is a thesis chapter bursting with more than 10,000 words or just chocolatey champorado waiting to be cooked. along the way, I was thinking of Kils and a portrait of myself. can he do it? can he capture my strength? my inner strength? where would he reflect this strength - my eyes, my look? will it do justice? as I turn idea per idea, as I listen to Natalie's - Lineage of Literature, my hand reaches out to the wooden spoon and keep swirling and swirling. over an hour. the champorado is cooked.

Embrace

2018-10-02T11:52:00.001+08:00

last night, i dreamt of him again. a man, many years my junior. his presence, assuring. a sort of hard worker. someone to lean on. we lay in bed together, not to make love or anything that will destroy the secure relationship that dream made for us. a relationship so strong seeing him, being with him, causes a tight knot in my stomach, in my heart.

yes, we were in bed. not intimate. although in one pose, our nose touched as if we wanted more than what we have. i turned away. and as i did he extended his arms. he wrapped his left arm around me. a tight secure embrace. i have not been embraced that way before.

Hero

2018-09-16T15:37:00.001+08:00

'i am just a girl who wants her own hero.' - Wonderlast Films

what do you do if you are like me, a girl with no hero? i've done away with having a 'best friend' for a mate. that is a girlish immature wish. but i've made numerous mistakes trusting men and entrusting to them my hopes of being 'my hero'. is it too much to ask? is it too much to ask for a protector? na sasagi ng lahat for me? thought i had one, six years ago, only to find the most puny, cowardly of them all. who's only way to deal with his loss of me was to pretend i do not exist. thought i had one, twelve years ago. blinded by expectations, that man was a 9-year old trapped in a 40-year old body, one who cannot distinguish play from responsibility.

and so my song goes,'i learned to depend on me'. i learned to be my own protector. my own hero. but this is not the real deal. i cannot embrace myself. my words are not comfort to my ears. there has to be a refuge, real strong huge arms that can protect, words as truthful as the North that even without making sense, is worth believing. there are a lot of strong men surrounding me, but they are someone else's hero.

i wait in this sheltered corner, fortified through time and experience and struggles and triumphs i call mine. but still i call, howl, 'where are you, my North?'

Walking

2018-07-19T07:31:00.001+08:00

walking is a sentimental thing. you are steady, moving forward, but no one knows what's going on in your mind. it could be a traffic of thoughts, noise, or just randomness, or control like your steady breathing on every step. along the way, you breathe everything happening around you. whether the clinging dew on a blade of grass, the towering might of trees, or it could just be the dense pulsating urban jungle where your footsteps trod. you move but the mind is in the past, of what used to be, what you hanged on to, and the change behind the decision to let go. all this while trudging along and absorbing the promise and challenge of the morning. will i be a good person today? what would i be when i trace the exact route back to where i started?

Love

2018-06-26T22:06:00.005+08:00

i am a person who loves a lot
it's pure love
from my heart
i love from my heart

but today, i face a bitter fact (i am so upset to use the word 'fact', at all).

i love the wrong people
and the love i crave for, i cannot have
whatever i get, it is not love
it is not even respect

for the first time
after such a long long time
suicide crossed my mind
what if i just kill myself now
life in my hands
out of love, for me

perhaps this is what Anthony Bourdain went through
to contemplate one's own death
without recourse to change one's mind

perhaps if i die
it won't matter at all
i am just a speck
and like any other memory
will just be blown, away.

Joy

2018-06-18T22:25:00.001+08:00

The joy is in the donut. The Krispy Kreme donut. Joy is the value brought by KK to the world. Noticed this only today, when I changed my spot and worked on the blue sofa with long pillows on its left rear spot (facing the store), close to the glass windows. I moved after becoming conscious of this insect bite on my left ear, not because the guy on my left was just speaking a little loud to his female companion. In this new spot, I could see the message of Joy by the left wall. With laptop literally on my lap, I was able to write today at this coffee shop. And even now as I am blogging, the laptop is here on my lap. This is Joy, even without a donut.

Mustard

2018-06-17T22:53:00.001+08:00

I've heard the parable of the mustard seed since I was a child. Even read about when still in elementary. In my head. a glossy page is, with the mustard seed being held by a man's hand (God's hand?) - the illustration in aqua blue, in violet.

Only today, during the mass here at Cedar, did I grasp its full meaning. The mustard seed is the smallest seed. But when it grows, its leaves are so big, birds feed on it. And that is how faith is. Faith is not manufactured. It does not grow over night. Over time it is tested, through patience and perseverance. Patience and perseverance reaps. The seed takes roots, bursts forth leaves and gives nourishment to those really needing it. So we trust and wait and hope.

Dreams are like that, like faith. In our sweet time, it happens, a dream comes true. And that time, is always the perfect time. And we strive through, with patience and perseverance. And so I will remember this. Every time I feel hard up with the PhD. Every time I question myself and wonder about the promotion due me. Every time I wonder how I ever got these debts and how to pay them. In time, all will be well. In time, the rewards will come. The money will flow. The PhD will be finished. And I will be just as happy and fulfilled as I am now. Dreams will come, and stay.

Laptop

2018-06-17T01:41:00.002+08:00

Just as I wrote about giving a laptop to someone, my own Susie (Asus) is in its death throes. Losing the display and encountering blank black screens whenever it goes into hibernation or sleep mode. I cannot afford a new laptop at this time but similarly, cannot afford to complete my thesis on a defective laptop. I will just decide when the time comes. For tomorrow, I will just write as much as I can and save while at it. All important files from Susie are now in the passport.

Giving

2018-06-15T21:03:00.000+08:00

This Sunday, I will be buying a laptop for an incoming scholar of Xavier University-CDO. His name is Gerald Besto, graduated class valedictorian from St Therese School in Miarayon, Bukidnon. This is a fulfillment of a dream. To be able to help someone through her/ his college education every year. I wanted to open a scholarship fund in USI but did not have time to visit the school last December. My plan was to open a Php25,000 bursary that could be used for tuition fee of a hardworking college student.

I am not liquid at the moment. Still waiting for my promotion. And paying for loans twice my salary. But I have money left in the bank. And I know money will come, in earnest. Money will come every month. The condo at Maple Place would be sold. My promotion will come.

So now I give. Not because I have or that I have enough. I give because I want to. I give because I love. The Universe is tipping the balance in my favor. Good karma begets good karma.

Every Day

2018-06-14T18:02:00.001+08:00

I want to blog again, every day. Chronicle, vent, get poetic, nostalgic, toxic. On a white page.

Today, just sent the BRIGHTS roadshow presmat to my team, but not without telling them, forget this presmat once you set eyes on it. Look at it on Monday. Just on a work day. To just work on a work day. To have a life outside of work that one cares about, and is passionate with. Even if this life involves being alone, and getting lonely on a white page.

I will work on the thesis after this. This is my life since 2009. I may have left my daughter to grow without me. Fallen in and out of (romantic) love. But what is constant all throughout is the thesis. The thesis of 11 chapters and more than 100,000 words. A thesis that is still trying to be worthy of Jane. And is getting there.

This is my life. A single mother who loves the dear daughter, yoga, driving, writing, cooking, baking, reading, watching Netflix, visualizing projects in my head, and trying and trying to be a better person, despite failing every now and then.

I am trying.

I write on a new page, every day.

The Outline is (Just) a Wall

2018-04-19T07:47:00.001+08:00

the thesis outline is just like a wall that sets boundaries what you will write about, and will not to. but it is a soft wall, not impervious to the power of insight and the creative mind which finds openings when thoughts are threshed constantly.

today, i found a link between sites-and-services, enabling and Kaantabay. a train of thought that saves a lot of words, veering from the original outline of sites-and-services-results-enabling-critical perspective-Kaantabay-critical model.

this breakthrough further reinforces my belief i am on the right track.

i am on track! i am finishing!

Not Knowing What to Write is OK

2018-04-12T06:48:00.001+08:00

writing is always an experiment. you have this idea in your head and you write it down with your hands. the idea is very raw, very imperfect. but it takes shape as the writing hand moves with the thinking brain. just as now, i do not know how this blog would end. and whether a new thought will spring up as my hand massages the keys and my eyes make contact with white space. just as what i want to say is this --do not be afraid of writing. start by just doing. now i am about to start the section on 'enabling'. and at the intro page where a summary is written - there is this line - 'what about enabling? see what materializes below'. i take the fear and freedom in one embrace. this is the joy and mystery and the wonder of writing.

Forever with Me

2018-04-08T17:48:00.002+08:00

i was at mass today when realization came. i was looking at a couple queuing up for Holy Communion, and another just standing by the right side wall, the guy in the back. there was another couple on my right - a Filipina and her much older beau, a foreigner. it looked as if, earlier, she was relating to him in English the sermon of the priest who spoke mainly in Tagalog.

the realization is this. there is no more waiting. the waiting has stopped. and i, will be single and uncommitted until the day i die. it's a fearful thing. after having only one child, a daughter who seems to be living a life of her own, like me. there will be no one really. the thought of going to match.com crossed my mind, but no. it's just not right. it goes against what i prefer as the natural, traditional process. of having the Universe conjure that person, in front of my eyes. i won't be doing anything. just leaving it all up to the Universe.

and now the Universe has spoken. in a whisper that can only be heard in the silence of my thoughts, seeing couples during mass. it's something sad still. i got my wish for freedom and control. but it is a sad wish. no one wants to be alone, myself included. but there is no one left to be with. and it is too late. for i have none to offer. i have no dreams of an equal half. and i will just no longer settle.

The Study - Noun or Verb?

2018-02-15T23:55:00.000+08:00

i am studying next week. at AIM. it's a prestigious university.

a look at the course syllabus and i say, i know this stuff. i've studied this for 4 years in UP elbi. i'm good at this.

i was about to text Candee but stopped myself.

i will come here as a Learner and see how much i can bear and have changed within a classroom setting.

will i be surprised or will i do the surprising?

Outsider

2018-02-04T07:11:00.000+08:00

always the outsider. this corporate lady once told how the Leader, despite his peacock personality, is always left out. always eats out by himself. and that in a crowd, like a meeting, he is approached by no one. no one comes up to the Leader for a talk, or approaches his table for lunch.

i felt like she is also talking about me, too.

i have friends in the office. but i eat alone. i can go to the canteen downstairs or walk to this grub place if i feel like it. but i am always alone. i sometimes bring lunch and take it at the pantry. alone.

during company outings, i feel the same sense of solitude. the beach is mine most of the time. i choose the table of an acquaintance. but that is just it.

during the last Christmas party, i was seated with my bestfriend in the office. but when he left early, i found myself seated alone. i was left alone so the CEO was compelled to approach and do small talk.

this is me. i have gotten the habit of observing people because of this. it has been my exercise in patience, in waiting. in solidifying the space bounded by silence and my presence.

Something

2017-09-03T16:01:00.000+08:00

i am going through something. something. a phase where i'm looking in, and in. not looking out, then in. or looking in, and out. it's like soul searching but awake. very lucid. very mindful. it's like i'm getting more aware of who i am, at my age. i think i've finally found me. i've finally found the state where i want to take root. branch out. i have found the core me. the stability. the permanence. i have found me.

i've gone past libido, to which this one friend is still struggling with. she tells stories of her latest conquest and here i'm thinking, i've gone past that. i do not need men for that. i do not need that.

i'm not hurtling through karma, which is besetting another friend. i am harvesting good. as for the past 46 years, i have endured a lot, been belittled a lot. but these had no effects except tears. i found a way through pain.

it's not a perfect life at all. i'm still with debt, lots of debt. my daughter does not talk easily to me. sometimes she does not talk at all. i still get intrigued at work. i can't seem to hold the dagger in my tongue. i still have enemies. but the edge is getting rounder. anger is not the only way. anger is there but one must rise above anger

i have learned to wait. and realize, to wait is to wait for the right things. my promotion. my financial recovery. i prayed hard, worked hard. Now, it's the Universe's turn.

and i realize i need to be kind, and even kinder. that the world will be better with kindness. i need to be better with children, with my daughter. i need to be a better person. to start with my thinking. to be better with my words.

and it is never too old to start anything. in 2017, i was fretting on what i will start new. then i found myself gardening. when we moved in here at Birchwood this July, it was the first time i repotted a plant. a wax plant. i still cannot breed new stuff. the thyme in my garden, in the new pot looks brown now. but i will not stop. the garden now has herbs. i have one beautiful porch out here.

so i welcome this something. this phase i am entering at 46. i am not dying. a whole new light is here.

Letting It Out

2017-08-20T15:20:00.002+08:00

I am struggling with time, my time.

Often I imagine, working unbridled from 4am to 6am from Mondays to Fridays; then one full day every Saturday, and another half day on Sundays. In reality, I was able to realize this partly.

Now that the daughter is schooling, indeed I wake up at 4am. But I get sit for the thesis by 6am. It is disrespectful to be writing while the daughter is preparing for school. On these occasions, I am a mother first. Then I get to write, if I am lucky, at most 224 words on the thesis outline. Yes, the thesis outline. I am beginning to craft my thoughts this way. It works. An approach so old, I am patient with it. But still I struggle. Now that I have direction in the writing, time is so little. It is hard to build momentum.

Saturdays are no different. I was able to work one full Saturday only once this July. On other times, I am caught up with yoga, housework, cooking, errands. There is so much to do in one day. To creep and just open the laptop, to mull over the outline, is just difficult.

But in my mind, the thesis exists, It my mind it is alive. In my mind, I know this will be submitted and it will become a book. It will become a classic. I owe it to the people who made it happen - good and bad, happy and not-so-happy, the hopeful and the desperate. All real people.

And so Time be kind. I will not budge. I will be present everyday. Until I make headway. I will just keep on breaking through.

I Have A Doctor in Baguio

2017-07-13T17:21:00.001+08:00

I got or was sick on the way to Baguio, Monday, last week. Because this required an emergency check-up, went to Notre Dame to see a doctor. I was expecting a quick one - lab test, check-up, meds and off I'll go.

But it was not meant to be. That Monday, I was led to a woman-doctor who cared enough to get my family history; at one point in our conversation, I had to look the other way to control myself. I nearly cried detailing my family's medical history, the stress in my life, my life as a single parent. I thought the check-up would be a flash. But I was in for more tests on the Wednesday. In the afternoon, in hand were two prescription pads for 'natural' meds. No antibiotics for now. A medical doctor who believes in natural remedies like water therapy and plant-based meds. I wanted to go back to her.

So now, I have reason to be in Baguio, from time to time. And perhaps scout for a house.

No Need For You

2017-04-09T21:15:00.000+08:00

A man from the past made contact. Quite gruffly. His language was quite arrogant. Demanding that I send him my CV. As if I wanted extra work. As if I needed the work he has to offer. As if I need him. He has so not gotten over 'it' - what - like 23 years ago? This same man called me two years ago and said that well, if I've met him just after he and his wife got separated, I would already be in Canada, with him. Really? I need you to get to Canada? That I really need to depend on any man to get anywhere in this world. Really?

It takes a lot of courage to be single in a world where companionship and sex could be obtained in an app. But the security I'm in, it's not negotiable. I got to this point by enduring, accepting and finally finding peace with loving myself above all else. I did not fornicate for the heck of it. Nor did I force myself to fall in love with someone else just for the sake of warming half of the bed. I need not be told that I need anyone. I am not confusing companionship with dependency. I do not need to get laid to get a job. I am working for a very prestigious company where I hold a position of esteem. My status allows me to travel, on my expense, at will, any part of the world. I do not need a man to fulfill my wants.

It's not that I do not need a man. When work gets overbearing, it crosses my mind what it would be like to care for husband, hearth and children. But then I fear being caged in. And I feel renewed again. Being a single parent and having a great job.

I am just not that kind of woman anymore. The one who craves for attention, and mistakes it for love. I am no longer the kind of woman who kowtows and begs for attention on these kinds of men - the arrogant, the passive-aggressive, the narcissist, the good-for-nothing - just to be whole. I am already whole. I have risen above you all. Oh you lot. Goodbye for good.

Befriending Time

2017-04-07T13:16:00.001+08:00

my to-do list is full. readings and reports to read, at least, have gone past a quarter post-it note. on a writing glut on the thesis. but still, i am alright. there is no room for worry in a day where the mind is filled with what-to-do-next-on-what. the most important thing is that I am on top of it all. and the best thing is that, I am here. I am well. and Time is conspiring to just let it be. all these to-do's will be 'done's' on the right time. and I am here navigating on the immediate.

Bed

2017-03-06T22:44:00.000+08:00

I have a new bed. It's creamy white. Bought 33% cheaper than its retail price. Has a pullout bed. Light and easy to move and clean. I also bought polka dot covers. It's so cool to look at. My bed.

A Cake of Wishes

2017-02-20T22:19:00.003+08:00

I have much to be thankful for today. Got my birthday wish. A long drive from Manila to San Jose, NE. Then from Bagabag NV to Santiago. Then, the icing. The daughter passed the entrance exam at AC. Blessings come in threes. So perhaps tomorrow, the third wish will come true.

The Chapel at Assumption

2017-02-18T08:15:00.000+08:00

This is a very beautiful chapel at Assumption College. Beautiful in its simplicity. Only one stained glass icon adores it; nothing less than Mama Mary on her Assumption into heaven. So happy and privileged to be here. I did not make a wish. I just let myself be enveloped by holiness and grace.

A Friday

2017-02-17T22:17:00.004+08:00

Today, the daughter homed in at AC. The story won a Fitbit. Our block prexy met an untimely death in Batangas. Had my first case of cramps in the car, just before driving. Life really is what it is. Where one starts, another ends. We are victorious and distraught within hours. Life is just like this.

Pride

2017-02-15T15:46:00.000+08:00

a high school friend of mine died today. of breast cancer - after a double mastectomy and treatment for six months. i have a feeling her treatment was a rip-off. doctors egging for treatment while rubbing their hands happy for the fees. she died just after the cancer invaded also her bones and kidneys. on her pictures in FB, i see that not only life was extinguished from her. her face was devoid already of hope.

we were about to meet sometime in november. but i sensed that she will cancel. we used to be housemates and our parting was not well. still, i was hoping to see her, but she canceled last minute with her blood chem results as attachments. told her. it's not necessary. if she's not feeling well, then alright to cancel. but i guessed she was just not ready to meet me with her condition. just had her head shaved. she would come not her confident upright self.

i've always said that when it's my time, i will choose no treatment. but then who knows? who knows what reasons you're celebrating life when cancer strikes? who knows the reasons that will make you choose to be well, despite the costs, and despite the doctors grinning sheepishly in the background. perhaps the way to go above all is Pride. to hold on to that ounce of self-belief that one can make it, and that surviving is an active decision, rather than just a passive outcome.

i choose to remember her happy and vibrant. so long my friend.