Selfshift's Life with a Plus!

Books For GiveAways

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 22:43:00 +0000

I'm giving these books for FREE -- but only to people I know. :-) I'll mark them each week to indicate the ones already reserved for somebody else. I'll also indicate if I've added new ones.

I think I've given/sold three times the amount of books here. But I'm through with trying to sell them. As Jho once said, "Books are meant to be shared." :-)

Images: Books1, Books2

The Seat of the Soul – Gary Zukav

Dark Nights of the Soul – Thomas Moore

Three Junes – Julia Glass

A Man Named Dave – Dave Pelzer

A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry

The Power of Myth – Joseph Campbell (taken)

How Full is Your Bucket – Tom Rath and Donald Clifton

Neverwhere – Neil Gaiman (taken)

Love in the Time of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez (taken)

Life of Pi – Yann Martel (taken)

David Copperfield – Charles Dickens

Seabiscuit – Laura Hillenbrand

Black Hawk Down – Mark Bowden

White Teeth – Zadie Smith

Sula – Toni Morrison

Song of Solomon – Toni Morrison

Jewel – Brett Lott

The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, The Amber Spyglass – Philip Pullman (taken)

The Light Ages – Ian R MacLeod

The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitgerald

The Sun Also Rises – Ernest Hemingway

Spin – Robert Charles Wilson

House of Sand and Fog – Andre Dubus III

Walden – Henry David Thoreau

Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert

American Gods – Neil Gaiman

All the Pretty Horses – Cormac McCarthy

The Book of Ruth – Jane Hamilton

Snow Falling on Cedars – David Guterson

The Other Wind – Ursula Le Guin

Stones From the River – Ursula Hegi

Dragon Wing – Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

Interview with a Vampire – Anne Rice

The Queen of the Damned – Anne Rice

Curses! – Aaron Elkins

Siddhartha – Hermann Hesse

Tropic of Cancer – Henry Miller

War of the Worlds – H.G. Wells

The Red Pony – John Steinbeck

Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream – Harold Bloom

Invisible Man – Ralph Ellison (taken)

Mister God, This is Anna – Fynn (taken)

A Wrinkle in Time – Madeleine L’Engle

A Time to Kill – John Grisham

* UPDATE: People ask, so here's my explanation: My (tall, but narrow) bookshelf is quite full. And I want to free up some space to welcome more books. So, a book should either be a favorite or be of some use to me; else, it must go. Also, some are a bit dilapidated so I plan to replace them if my resources allow. Last, I don't want to reduce the value of these books by selling them at a very low price, so I've decided to give them to people who might actually love to have them. :-)

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 03:30:00 +0000

Voter's ID
Monday Feb 18, 2008

Two months have passed since my stolen wallet. But besides the money (P4K), I still regret the loss of my voter's ID. Granted that it's my worst "mugshot", but still: Not every voter in the Philippines could have it even if they wanted to.

It's a mystery that some get it while others don't. And no one knows what agency to go to to get one.

Do you?

Matalino o Masaya?
Tuesday Feb 19, 2008

"Anong gusto mo maging, matalino o masaya?" G~ blurted out of nowhere.

"Masaya," I replied, not a moment after.

"Talaga? Kahit tanga ka?" said A~ just as fast.

My mind reeled, and after a significant pause I said, "Well, kung masaya ka, di mo rin siguro alam na tanga ka. Kung hindi, eh di hindi ka na masaya nun."

I don't know about the other two, but I felt the impact of my own words right after I said them. It's a pity that when I look at the most logical -- and I mean people with sound minds and great character -- some of them tend to feel unhappy and alienated. While the idiots who just don't analyze the quality of their reasoning tend to be happy existing as badly as they do.

I don't want to generalize. And I don't want to be negative. But there's something in here: that sometimes a great mind can even be a barrier to happiness.

Workplace Dilemma
Wednesday Feb 20, 2008

"Gusto mo ba mag-work sa ?" said J~.

"Hindi," I blurted. "Ah, hindi," I countered. "Ewan ko. Malay mo."

Oh no. I'm in deep shit. It seems that deep inside I do not want to apply at one of the highest-paying IT company in the country. (And I'm not saying that they'd want to take me even if I did apply.) I have some inside info on how it might be like to work there, and it's good in many ways. But still, something inside me says I don't want to apply. (I have my thoughts on why I feel this way, but I'm not sure of it. It's like the reasoning after the fact of the feeling.)

Define, A Handy Google Feature
Thursday Feb 21, 2008

Did you know you could do this with google: "define: ". Handy, isn't it? Now I don't always have to go to the slow-loading Dictionary.com. (I think their ads are at fault with that.)

ClawDaddy Crab House Buffet at Shang
Friday Feb 22, 2008

I was really looking forward to ClawDaddy again. We had a nice buffet, with soup, salad, roast pork, and of course, a load of crab (pun intended). They don't tell you this, but they vary the buffet. Before, we had barbecued pork instead of roast. There was also pasta, but now we have spiced rice, beans, creamy corn or spinach. Previously, the crab was cooked in oil and garlic; now they were boiled with corn and potatoes. They also have deserts and some fruit like a pineapple or a watermelon maybe. Like all buffets, it was a feast. For the unrestrained food lover, ClawDaddy's buffet is something that's worth going for. Price: ~P750 each for the buffet and drinks.

Accepting Scratch Papers for Donation
Saturday Feb 23, 2008
I like printing articles from the web. So to my friends who have some spare scratch papers, hey, your garbage is exactly my treasure.

Book Review: Dark Nights of the Soul
Sunday Feb 24, 2008

Dark Nights of the Soul
by Thomas Moore

Dark Nights of the Soul is a wordy book. I had not read it as much as skimmed my way through it. Against his Care of the Soul, there were fewer metaphors and symbolisms that grabbed me, so I had very few a-ha moments while reading it. There were examples of people who have gone through a dark night, but I still didn't connect with them -- as if Moore was only speaking of generalities. The book feels more like a long essay, containing feelings rather than advice for self-help to his readers.

There are some gems, though. The chapters on Life's Ironies and on Creativity were a good read. And if only for these two parts of the book, then I have to say that the book is a keeper in my personal library.

Here's a small preview of what you will find:

"What is needed is not pretense but complexity. You don't hide your suffering, you weave it tightly into the whole fabric of your life and personality."

"You finally discover that it is not good to spend your life trying to be good and aligning yourself with virtuous people of the world. It might be better to avoid that divided self altogether and instead simply live with compassion for yourself and others. You are not perfect and you never will be."

"And so we are left with a great battle, not between good and evil, but between really living and just pretending."

Nice eh? :)

Sudden Feelings of Listlessness

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 05:31:00 +0000

Doing Weekly Posts
Monday Feb 11, 2008

Filler post: I'm doing weekly posts. I write at least one paragraph a day, give myself some time to realize grammatical errors, and then have all seven of them posted at the same time. I wonder how long I can keep this up. I guess not for long. :P

Cocorama at Shang
Tuesday Feb 12, 2008

Lunch was at Cocorama, Shangri-la mall, Mandaluyong. We ordered porkchop, bento, and chicken alfredo. Their food was ok. It's a resto you can go to if you're tired of the usual. And they have large servings. The iced tea tastes like real tea (as opposed to the iced teas in fast foods here), which I like. The pancake that came with the bento was delicious. And if there's something I'd look forward to next time, it will be a taste of their choco pancake. Price: P300-P500 per person.

Studied Like Crazy
Wednesday Feb 13, 2008

Four-day Workweek?
Thursday Feb 14, 2008

I'm starting to think that I'm more efficient if I work only four work days in a week. What are the consequences of that thought? I'd rather not think for now.

Brother's Van
Friday Feb 15, 2008

I thought we weren't gonna make it. But we did. My parents boasted that this second-hand van can climb the steep road that we regularly take. Not only that, it really saves on gasoline. So ok, ok, I'm convinced. I could use this van for practice when I take driving lessons this March.

Studied Like Crazy
Saturday Feb 16, 2008

Sudden Feelings of Listlessness
Sunday Feb 17, 2008

Does this ever happen to you: You've made plans, so in your head you've figured everything's gonna be alright, then a day after that you suddenly feel lost again, for no apparent reason. When this happens, I grab my books and scan for anything I might do to feel... something else. They're like my prozac or something, haha.

Uncaring, Coños, Dogs, Religion, Java, Balloons, and the Wisdom of Crowds

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 07:14:00 +0000

Remind Me Not to Care
Monday Feb 4, 2008

In my Yahoo Messenger status, I wrote, "my ny resolution: be irresponsible >:)". Why? Because I am too approachable and helpful at work. I volunteer too much information and, with it, my precious time. People tend to ask help too often, and then I'd feel abused. So now I answer questions briefly. The way I speak and my body language says, "Do not ask me if you can figure it out yourself." I don't know what this will do to my (supposedly) pleasant personality, but I'm feeling a lot better.

Aside: an officemate's remark on that YM status: "sex with a stranger." *LOL*

Earth Swallow Me Na
Tuesday Feb 5, 2008

"Earth swallow me na." The guys at work used this expression to tease a coño (suppossedly, but she's not. Long story). It brought the house down, haha.

In my opinion, the Filipino use of the term coño does not have anything to do with being rich or well-to-do, although no one will call you coño if you're like gusgusin. (Did you catch that one?) It's in the way the language is used and abused. Coños over-use "pa" and "na" after English statements: "Wait for me na" or "I'm gonna eat pa". And if this isn't enough bastardization of the language, they also like to mix-and-match English and Filipino words that result in, hmmm, quite creative usage. A girl guiding her dad as he parks the car says, "Atras pa, atras...Stop! Atras the other way."

Worst of all, does it have to sound (pa)cute? I know Americans don't speak that way, and neither do ordinary Filipinos. I just hate it. It makes me want to yell, "Umayos ka!"

I'd rather that people speak to me in solid English or Filipino sentences. Or if in Taglish, just not with that ornery tone these people use.

I know: live and let be. But I (stubbornly) just don't like it. It's a pet peeve. And I'm entitled to have one.

Saved a Dog's Life
Wednesday Feb 6, 2008

Two of my dogs attacked a small, white, fluffy dog. Both of their toothy mandibles were gnawing the shrieking animal. I splashed water, motioned grievous threats with my hard slippers, and gave stout reprimands until the hapless dog was able to limp away.

Think for Yourself
Thursday Feb 7, 2008

Religions should teach people to think for themselves...

But the better thing to do is to think for yourself no matter what other people or institution say. Don't try change your religion...they change when less and less people like them.

So easy to say.

I Admit, I'm Not Thinking Clearly
Friday Feb 8, 2008

I know that not getting a job first is stupid. But I want, want, want that Java certification. Getting a job first will only take that focus away from me. Some people say that getting certified doesn't matter. But I want, want, want that Java certification. I just have to have it.

And I don't have to justify why, because it's certain that every reason can be countered. I just want it. Want, want, want it.

Balloon Festival
Saturday Feb 9, 2008

The Weekend of Everything That Flies didn't get off the ground this morning as strong winds prevented the organizers from blowing the balloons.

I just got a whiff of how cool it could have been. I'm definitely going back next year.

Halfway into The Wisdom of Crowds
Sunday Feb 9, 2008

I was able to buy a hardbound copy of The Wisdom of Crowds yesterday at half the price. Today, I got to read half of it, so I can't say much yet. So far, it was as interesting as I expected it to be.

Article: In the Valley of the Shadow of Faith: A Renewed Approach to Doubt

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Thu, 08 Nov 2007 03:39:00 +0000

By Selfshift.

I do not write for those who are sure of faith,
But for the confused - those whose thoughts
Are fingers that scratch the dirt for some promise
Of ease from the hunger for understanding,
Whose emotions churn desperately for revelation,
And whose own light is continually seen dark.

A Vast Plain of Unknowing
There is so much we do not know. Our physical unknowing is as big as the universe. Our mental unknowing is as deep as each person’s thought. Our spiritual unknowing is as abstract as our unknowing of God 1.

We are uncomfortable in our unknowing. Much of our unknowing, however, is irrelevant to our day-to-day lives; thus relieving us from this discomfort. But during difficult times, our unease becomes palpable. As days go by, it grows in strength. And as this feeling becomes a habit -- a part of our way of life -- we begin to feel our lives spiraling loose of its meaning. Until finally, the full-force of our unknowing hits us, coming to us as the big questions we have tried to evade or set aside, such as, "Does God exist?" "Why is there suffering in the world?" “What is my spiritual path?” These questions are what religions -- or any form of philosophy that deals with such questions -- seek to answer.

A Call to Faith Under the Pain of Doubt
All philosophies that attempt to answer the big questions are a call to faith. Religion is a call to faith. And if you have an individualized path, it is also a call to faith. But let’s face it. The answers to the big questions can be questionable themselves. More than certainty, what these philosophies espouse is a call to soul -- a resonance from deep within your being of truth. (Author’s note: I consider truth as multi-faceted and kaleidoscopic. Recall the story of the three blind men describing an elephant.)

For many religions their version of truth is absolute and inviolable. When we were children, we can but only accept these truths unquestioningly. It is unfortunate that we had also accepted the judgments associated with doubting these truths. When we doubt, we deem ourselves unworthy and even deserving of some punishment.

Doubt, then, becomes a burden, moreso because it cannot be flushed away. It is alive. It explores avenues we would rather not delve into. It creates emotional pain and confusion.

It also does not help that when we convey our doubts to others, we realize that they themselves are incapable of handling doubt. They shift in their seats, and they reply evasively. Or they may just dismiss our sentiments rudely and abruptly. Worst, they may hold their image of us as dangerous and heretical.

The easy availability of a plethora of philosophical and religious ideas can also deepen our agony: We tend to become defensive of our faith when it brushes against other people's faiths. But when our exasperation with our doubts escalates, we begin to wish for the kind of illumination and peace that others have. In this setting, doubt creates a barren valley surrounded by mountains of faith, along with all their peak experiences. There is the enlightenment of Buddhism, the nirvana of the Hindus, the sainthood of the Christians, and the oneness of the Taos 2. The testaments of their followers tower over us, with our doubts only pulling us down.

There is More to Doubt
With all the pain and confusion, we tend to forget that the faith we have may not be ours. Faith is not the acceptance of unchallenged beliefs simply because they were all we knew when we were growing up. And even if we have changed beliefs during our lifetime, our personal declaration of faith is still not equivalent to having the faith itself. A shaker of foundations, doubt asks each one of us to be honest: "Do you really believe in what you say? Is your faith already yours? Or worse, is your faith misplaced? Others have faith because they know at their core that it is true. But do you?"

We can perceive at this point that doubt, though seemingly undesirable, has surprisingly presented itself with a gift: honesty in our declaration of faith. Doubt has been strongly associated with the negative, the undesirable, but we can re-vision our idea of doubt into something positive. Using psychological terms, doubt is faith's shadow. And like all psychological shadows, if we are willing to look, there is at the end some gold.

The Gifts of Doubt
Doubt's gifts come in the form of a deeper understanding of the nature of faith. Consider these gifts that it has to offer:

First -- as we have been keen to realize -- doubt demands honesty in our faith. This gift of doubt, however, would be hard to accept when our doubts trigger judgments and fears, simply because no one can figure out this faith-and-doubt puzzle except ourselves.

Second, faith defers to experience. Joseph Campbell once said, “I do not need faith. I have experience.” Faith is nothing if our experience is opposite to our faith. There are times when our personal experiences seem to test our faith. But we must be willing to consider the opposite view as well: that maybe our experience calls for us to change our beliefs. In this situation, we must have the discipline and patience to assess our beliefs and experiences. And this experience is not limited to outer experience, which is based on the five senses. It also includes inner experience. Without the resonance of faith in our soul, we become blind followers, devoid of the spirituality that our faith is supposed to give us.

It might also be argued, "But my faith creates my experience and not the other way around." As long as we have the experience of faith creating our experience -- be mindful of the play of these words -- then we do not stray from the core of what the second gift of doubt is all about.

Third, there is a harmonious exchange between doubt and faith. In this regard, there is a need to go beyond the semantic meaning of doubt and faith as antonyms. There is always room for doubt in faith; and faith and doubt can co-exist. The line that separates faith and doubt, in this aspect, is blurred. Because if faith defers to experience and if in our experience there are so many things we do not know, then almost everything in our faith is open to doubt. Bertrand Russell had once stated that "nothing...can disprove the hypothesis that the world began five minutes ago" along with our memories of "a wholly unreal past." It seems that our faith has a lot going against it.

But in all practicality, we hold to our versions of faith. It is needless to doubt everything in our lives. For example, what would it mean to doubt gravity? Gravity is here now, but it doesn't mean it would be here forever. So why be sure that it will be here tomorrow? This kind of questioning is basically pointless because we cannot go about our daily lives wondering if gravity will fail us the next moment. How much more when it is applied to our faith, which is almost always likened to the ground from which we stand on? Is it not also pointless to doubt everything about it?

There is practicality involved in the tug between faith and doubt. The way we lead our lives, our goals, and the purposes that have been set up for us are all important on what we decide to cast doubt upon and on what we decide to have faith on.

Fourth, doubts, when stripped of judgment, are merely questions. Perhaps this is the most important gift of doubt. Questions tear our walls of limitations. Questions invite growth. Isn't it revealing that when children ask questions about anything, even about faith, that we see the child's restless curiosity, his/her openness to knowledge, and his capability to wonder. Interestingly enough, doubt is not uncomfortable in its unknowing, but instead finds in mystery a source of dynamic delight.

Honoring Our Doubts
Looking at these gifts, it is only right that we honor the place of doubt in our lives. When doubts surface, doubts surface -- repression is anathema to doubt. For most of us, there is no longer an associated danger with the expression of doubt, so there is also no need for us to condemn, box, and hide it. Doubt's liberation from morality and judgment is dependent upon our honest evaluation of ourselves and of doubt's effect on our social environment. Is it the intention of doubt to cause us or other people pain and confusion? The gifts of doubt strongly answer, "No!" Doubt opens us to growth, and most of us need this growth. But to grow is to change. And pain and confusion come about by any change, any metamorphosis. We cannot forcefully stunt our growth just to protect other people from inconvenience.

In our religious literature, doubt is oftentimes expressed as a means to an end and not as an end in itself; doubts are valid if and only if it serves to affirm the faith in the end. This approach, used to advance the agenda of a particular faith, is, however, antithetical to the very existence of doubt when applied to our personal experience. We cannot preclude doubt's questions with an answer we cannot yet accept. Again, this is merely a result of doubt encumbered with judgment. To free the gifts of doubt, we must loosen our grip from our intellectually predetermined answers.

For most of our doubts, our questions, there is no answer. We should always be cautious of answers anyway, because they are limiting and confining. But we need not feel lost; because in finding the answers, we can still have faith in ourselves, in our critical thinking, and in our evaluation of our experiences. We can figure the answers out, or if not, we can figure out how to live with the questions -- which can only happen if we accept doubt as our inner capacity to see the mystery and spirit inherent in the universe.

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart. And try to love the questions themselves.” -- Rainer Maria Rilke

Notes:
1. The term “God” is used here in an abstract sense, not necessarily the monotheistic Christian God, and can refer to any other terms such as The Universe, God and/or Goddess, All That Is, and any of the polytheistic deities worshipped in any religion.
2. Of course, there are many other peak experiences not mentioned here.

Synchronicity: Four Signs of Yeats

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Wed, 07 Mar 2007 15:37:00 +0000

Consider these three movies:

Bridges of Madison County
Million Dollar Baby
Runaway Bride

I watched these movies for the first time last weekend. What's weird is that they all have Yeats: there's one hardcover book of his on each movie, and lines were read from these books.

So, ok, that's strange, but there's no need to get Paulo Coehlo-ish on the whole thing. There's no "message", nothing literal nor symbolic. Maybe there's lots of movies with Yeats. And maybe, given the number of people watching these movies, someone's bound to consecutively watch three movies with Yeats on it.

The thing is, it didn't end there. I took a work leave today, watched House, the TV series, and saw someone reading a book of poems in one scene. I can't see the title, not yet at least, but as the camera zoomed out, a feeling crept over me -- no, it couldn't be. Don't tell me that those blurry curly letters spells out that name. No. Oh yes, it's w-b-y-e-a-t-s! That was a bit unnerving.

If only a close friend wasn't raving about the topic of signs yesterday, if only I hadn't glanced at this newspaper column, aptly titled "When signs are ignored", not a minute after I watched that TV scene, then I would have had this experience filed away in some hard-to-reach compartment in my mind.

What are coincidences anyway? Aren't they just disparate events, bound by probability to eventually occur, and yet people attach to them some rare significance, some meaning. I think that if synchronicity does help people, then it won't hurt to try and use them, maybe like feng shui or astrology. But I'm not a strong fan of it. Its not as if I already found a soulmate or got lucky financially because of some fortunate sequence of inexplicable events. And yet, imagine this: what would it mean if synchrnonicity is actually true? And what would it mean if it actually isn't? I like playing with these kind of ideas, which makes synchronicity my kind of intangible toy. No one can prove synchronicity for all humanity. We only have our individual experiences either as controvertible proof or contrary testament. Synchronicity will always be in the margin of truth and untruth. There will be no way to ascertain it, no way that someone could scientifically expunge the mystery. It could be our dearest possesion if we want to believe in it. Hmm...I think I like that. I think I really do.

Yeats, I yield. Consider your book bought.

This Blogger Found a New Apartment

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Wed, 01 Nov 2006 08:54:00 +0000

Last Monday I moved-in to another apartment. It's modest, but it was more than I hoped for (and more expensive than what I'm actually eager to pay, but hey, that's life).

I chose this apartment for these reasons:

security: the owners open the gate themselves
time: takes 15 minutes from the time I leave my door to the time I log-in to the office
food: easily accessible grocery store and fast-food
people: owners and tenants seem to treat each other like family
privacy: a room all to myself

I like this apartment for these reasons:

relatively new: about a year old
tiled floor: easy to clean
halogen lights and small chandelier
lots of shelf space
bamboo design on the bathroom tiles*
6th-floor penthouse view!
old friends to invite over (like this weekend, wahoo! )

* as you can see from this blog's recent sidebar, I like bamboos

Article: Gratitude on the Run

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Thu, 05 Oct 2006 02:16:00 +0000

A year ago, I have seen this inspiring TV commercial by a well-known shoe company. A sweaty, lanky guy is running on a rough trail amidst an arid landscape. Nearing exhaustion, the guy stops for a breather. Then, he appallingly begins to speak with himself! Between hurried breaths, two personalities of the same guy are now arguing. One personality wants to stop, the other wants to keep on running. In the end, this guy runs, leaving his "old self" behind.

In a less creepy manner, I had a similar conversation with myself. This conversation centered on gratitude – a topic so simple and yet so profound as to contain many surprises.

Between the two imaginary personalities I have created, one personality took the role of a doubter. This personality asked of the other, "What do you really know about gratitude anyway? Does gratitude even permeate your life? For you, it's all about just saying thanks, right? "

If the first personality is the doubter, then the second one must be the seeker. And that is only appropriate, for it is doubt that seeded the spiritual journeys of fabled mystics and seekers alike.

At the onset, the seeker gave only one reply to each of the doubter’s questions: “We will see.” The role of a seeker requires perseverance to look for the place of gratitude in my life.

My seeker personality listed the things that I am grateful for: (1) shelter, (2) clothing, (3) food ..., the list just goes on and on. From this gratitude list and from the feelings that this list evoked from me, I drew my own conclusions:

Gratitude makes me content. I am assured of shelter, clothing, and three basic meals per day. I am blessed to have both family and close friends. I have plenty of creative goals and activities to keep me busy. In many ways, I have more than enough.

Gratitude renews perspective. The feeling of contentment removes me from the painful struggle towards more material things. When I am rapt with satisfaction for the present moment, I no longer care where others are going. I begin to doubt whether they're going anywhere at all, or whether they're just mimicking others in their frantic running.

Gratitude makes me aware. I am regularly paying attention to details to add more items to my gratitude list.

Gratitude is acceptance. Looking at my list, I can only mutter, "This is what I have, both not-much and more-than-enough compared to other people's standards." In expressing my gratitude, judgment and comparison become unnecessary. It is more important to appreciate what I have now and to feel good about it.

Gratitude opens possibilities. Being grateful for what I have opens me up to the possibilities of what I can become. Gratitude switches on the neon arrow sign that shows the next logical step I can take.

Gratitude opens the heart. It's almost cliché that to give and receive gratitude freely, one must have an open heart.

Gratitude can be a bridge to forgiveness. Gratitude is the spiritual garnish that makes the dish of forgiveness appealing and, even possibly, palatable. It's amazing how I could muster enough motivation to scribble my enemies' names on my gratitude list. Appreciative of the personal growth they've unintentionally caused me, I can now exert the necessary effort to put myself in their shoes and to forgive them – one little step at a time.

Gratitude is both passive and active. Writing down items in my gratitude list requires some effort. The mind that constantly sees the negative must be put aside. Giving thanks may mean taking an act of will. It can be as forceful as a sacred sword of truth that slashes at the illusions of depravity and unworthiness that mar my vision of life. But then, there is also the sublime passivity in gratitude, where I suddenly feel cushioned by the world and showered by its blessings.

Having assuaged all my doubts about the presence of gratitude in my life, I have been transformed into an entirely new self. "This is what I knew gratitude to be," I told the doubter, my old self. Having said this, I imagined breaking into a run, along this rough trail in an arid landscape. I knew that I am leaving my old self behind. But I also knew that I am not disjoint from him. I developed from him. I was built from his experience, even from his doubts. So unlike this guy in the TV commercial, I took a momentary halt to turn around and to look back. With a self-composed equanimity to contain my bursting appreciation, I openly smiled and hollered, "Thanks!!!"

About this article: I wrote this article a year ago for a spiritually-inclined non-profit organization. In hindsight, I think the whole article is pragmatic rather than spiritual. But shouldn’t all spiritual things be pragmatic? Anyway, I got permission to post this article in my blog on one condition: that my post should not coincide with the organization’s publication. Well, it’s been a month now, so you see it here.

...

Remember when you were a kid, when ideas were shoved into your head by adults? In my case, nuns pushed the idea of gratitude. But I was confused about its true significance. As I grew, I accidentally read about it in some self-help books. But the topic of gratitude was written in what is often an emotional (flowery?) and spiritually-glittered prose that, in my opinion, obscured it of personal meaning. So, in speaking in my own voice, I have peeled away the non-essential coverings and revealed its true essence based on my experience. I can now contentedly say that writing about gratitude was a childhood dream that came true.

...

Thank you for reading this long post. :)

15 Traits of People That Matter

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Sun, 06 Aug 2006 09:27:00 +0000

I've listed some traits of people that matter, at least to me. Their characteristics are stated in its general sense or 'essence':

1. people who are respectful, if not kind.
2. people with a passion, a dedication to a purpose, or at least a recognition that he/she has a mission here on Earth.
3. people who can enjoy themselves and can make you laugh.
4. people whom you can relax your personal defenses.
5. people who truly listen, are generally supportive, and can bring out the best in you.
6. people who are inwardly secure and powerful, needing little validation and attention from others. Stated in Filipino: 'di papansin'.
7. people who are open-minded, who let others be -- at least most of the times. Stated in Filipino: 'walang pakialaman'.
8. people who are honest with their feelings, be it a "negative" feeling or not. And yet you can still sense that they're just acknowledging the moment and are not long-term misers.
9. people who know what they want and can communicate these wants clearly.
10. people who have lots of energy and a healthy outlook on life, whatever their present circumstances.
11. people who reflect inner simplicity, humility, and substance no matter how much success they've had.
12. people who are inwardly silent and simple, yet very wise when giving advice.
13. people holding the seeming paradox of being individuated yet part of the whole of humanity.
14. people who are creative, by generating beauty or by making you see the world in another angle of magnificence that it already is.
15. people who are generally loving and compassionate, specially those on the path of service.

Why "Sleep Cloak"?

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Fri, 07 Jul 2006 17:46:00 +0000

I posted Sleep Cloak because of an incident awhile ago...

Have you ever had to deal with a difficult person, who caused you to handle things badly? What if you knew you would have to deal with this same person multiple times into the future?

If you're like me, you'll be stark mad and frustrated at the same time...

You're mind is active, replaying the situation over and over again, placing blame and figuring-out how things can be done differently. But you can't come up with an immediate solution. So, in your narrow perspective, the problem is magnified ten times. And on top of all that dammed anger and frustration, you still have to play the part of a civil and functioning individual, amongst peers unaware of what you've just been through. So you're feeling a bit hopeless and tired. All you want to do is come back home and snuck under the sheets.

This was the point when I remembered my old poem Sleep Cloak. I was only a bit pensive when I wrote this poem, which was very unlike my mood a few hours ago. Yet the poem fits perfectly.

Alternative Remedies: I walked for quite some time in the mall to release the pent-up energy. I also watched some young ones do hockey. Their play was engrossing; their movements were lithe and graceful; their sportsmanship was evident; and their enjoyment was infectious. I imperceptibly cheered at some of their plays and chuckled amusedly at some of their falls. Watching them felt therapeutic, which goes the same for posting this entry into my blog. Add to that my anticipation for my first IMAX experience, which is upcoming tomorrow with some friends. All of these makes me think of how I've already done a bit of what a Sleep Cloak can do: renew my belief that everything's alright and that I could handle any situation.

Sleep Cloak

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Fri, 07 Jul 2006 17:41:00 +0000

Sleep Cloak

Every night
as I go to sleep
I surrender all
that I believe
except the faith
that I am safe
in the four corners
of my bed.

The world can go crazy,
people may die,
but in my sleep,
I will not budge;
I am invincible
and immortal.

I am once more
the little fetus -
enveloped in my
placenta-blanket,
and carressed
in the womb-bed
that carries me
back into the love
of my Earth Mother.

Gone are all my cares.

by Selfshift
Dec 1, 2003

Sagada Day 1: On the Mountain's Bosom

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Sun, 02 Jul 2006 00:30:00 +0000

Sagada Journey and Impressions Series

The bus trip from Manila to Banaue entailed 10 hours of cold intermittent sleep. We woke up amidst fogged mountains, unveiled slowly by the sun's fresh lights.

In Banaue, we boarded an ordinary shuttle that journeys direct to Sagada. It was a tourist's ride, replete with stopovers: one at a nearby cafe for breakfast, another at the Banaue viewpoint, and the last one near Batad. Although we were child-like in our delight to wander, little time was spent in these places; they seemed only a taste of things to come, and so we were off to the roads once again.

The roads were rocky, and travel was dusty and grueling, but it was brightened-up by surprising glimpses of small-scale rice terraces, freely nurtured by mountain springs.

I could just picture it: rain water percolating inside the mountains, prying its way, coursing, then trickling out like a bleed from the side. It's all natural and bound to happen. But for me, it's still a marvel.

The shuttle's journey ended at the St. Joseph's resthouse, which was at a slightly-high vantage point...

and there was Sagada in a sweep of the eye....

A trickle of pleasure washed over me. I was glad: Sagada was in no way like industrialized Baguio. The greens were vividly present; the air was fresh, cool, and inviting. It was a clean and small town, nestled ardently on the mountain's bosom.

" majestic fences to the comely rice terraces below "

Lodged at Traveller's Inn and weary from the ride, we all felt the temptation to snooze. But it was lunch time, so we pushed ourselves towards Yogurt House. After a hefty lunch and a little rest, we aimed doggedly towards Bokong, the slightly-famed small waterfall. The locals directed us to a path that led to an assembly of tall pines -- majestic fences to the comely rice terraces below.

We stumbled upon a vacationing family, with a guide who led us through perilously high rip-raps, through a brook, and right in front of the splashing waters of Bokong. The waterfall is indeed small. Its collected water, however, was deep. And it was enticing enough for a swim...

Bokong

Superbly refreshed afterwards, we took the long route back. And here's why I'm proud to have Aidz and Alda as my friends: we noticed the little things and bid our time to appreciate them, like those plants with spires that looked like alien towers, other varieties of plants not normally seen in Manila, curious burns on the barks of pine trees, even monumental stones resembling the ones we saw in a postcard.

Our exploration continued with a visit to Sagada Collections Souvenir Shop and ended with a dinner at Masferre's. Back at the Inn, we spent our time conversing lightheartedly, playing cards repeatedly, and swigging earnestly tapey and bugnay, the local rice and cherry wine. Then we felt it was time for bed.

reverberations of faintly-sensed decrescendos...

I snucked comfortably between the sheets, re-playing contentedly the events of the day and wondering expectantly what surprises tomorrow may bring.

I pleasantly thought myself to sleep.

My Top Four Favorite Quotes

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Sat, 10 Jun 2006 14:34:00 +0000

If your success is not on your own terms, if it looks good to the world but does not feel good in your heart, it is not success at all.
- Anna Quindlen

To know what you prefer instead of humbly saying Amen to what the world tells you you ought to prefer, is to have kept your soul alive.
- Robert Louis Stevenson

It's never too late to be what you might have been.
- George Eliot

It is not what we have but what we enjoy that constitutes our abundance.
- John Petit-Senn (1792-1870) French poet

How about you? What's your favorite quote?

Money and Life

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Sat, 10 Jun 2006 09:32:00 +0000

Sometimes, the Oprah show can be touchy-feely. And unlike most people, the lives of celebrities do not intrigue me much. But I do catch shows that interest me, like the one's about leaving your baby in the car just to do a quick shopping (never do this), never letting your kidnappers take you to another location (how you do that, I forgot), doing negative things you wouldn't do as an individual person but you would do as a part of some group (an unbelievable and captivating social dynamic that I observe everyday), and, best of all, men and women of extraordinary contribution to society (where I just go: Wow!).

Then, there's this one: The American Debt Diet. In this show, three families, deep in debt, spending nearly twice their income, are getting some help. I was able to watch the second show of the series yesterday, and the financial advisors mentioned some statements that stung:

"We shop because we want to fill a void inside."
- No, I'm not an avid shopper, except maybe of books, stories, and grand ideas (haha!). But I could re-word the statement to fit me: I strongly want to achieve so and so because I want to fill a void inside. Or: I strongly want the situation to be different because I want to fill a void inside. I believe it boils down to a lack of patience. My situation could and can become different, but things have their own time for fulfillment. I realized I must do only what is necessary then wait; the seasons cannot be rushed. I always have to remind myself of that.
Four words that can save you: "Can I afford this?"
- Enough said.
"It is a lie. You are living a lie."
- Even when the parents, the mothers in particular, have a limited budget, they still want to splurge on their children. The financial advisors admonished them: "You can't afford it. You just can't," which started a mild argument between them. In rebuke of the parent's defenses, the financial advisor said something like, "It is a lie. You want your child to believe in a lie."
  
  That was very powerful.
  
  Since we tend to lack a belief in our personal worth, especially when our "neighbors" get ahead of us, we create a compensatory persona of who we think we should be instead of who we are now. I think, to some degree, all of us does this. But it has some purpose: it puts us in the position where we question ourselves about what's really important...for us. In this search for what's really important, I have always found it inspiring to rely on my top four favorite quotes, which I write on my next post.

Note: I was surprised that the desire to write a little, internal note about the show's topic exploded into a full-blown blog post. The blogger's block has momentarily melted...crushed...exploded to pieces...crumbled...fallen off...disappeared. Cheers!

Psycho-Analyzing Relationships

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Mon, 05 Jun 2006 08:57:00 +0000

A Yahoo Messenger conversation a little while ago:

*friend*:I'm...working on a new article...

*friend*: Why do you think guys physically hurt their girlfriends?

*friend*: Do you think there are some instances when it is justified? Why or why not?

*selfshift*: I think guys who hurt their girlfriends have the ff characteristics: (1) in general, they lack sensitivity of other people's feeling; (2) they have lots of anger (not necessarily about their girlfriends) that explodes to violence to their loved ones; (3) they compensate for their inner lack of power through domination; and (4) they have girlfriends that permitted themselves to be hurt again and again due to some reason, like maybe feelings of unworthiness. These instances are never justified unless the girlfriend is an enthusiastic and willing boxing/martial arts sparring partner. *lol*

*friend*: ... what do you think of the "practice" of girls slapping their boyfriend in the face?

*selfshift*: ah, I wouldn't know. I'm tall for any girl to easily slap me. Maybe it's their way of shaking the gelatinous head of their boy friend to put some sense into it or, in an opposite manner, to put chaos in an otherwise intelligent mind so that the boyfriend will comply with her wishes. *lol* Still, it's an explosive act that results from basically similar reasons as those guys that physically hurt girls.

Just posted it, cause it's a good marker of my views -- good for self-knowledge since I wrote what immediately popped into my mind. I wouldn't defend it for the world, though. I'd like to consider my views ... malleable to experience.

Nature Meditation

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Wed, 31 May 2006 07:44:00 +0000

Nature Meditation

I am sitting near a tree
in a pool of short green grass,
basking under the soft sun
and cooled by the gentle breeze
that blows kisses on my face,
ruffles my hair in its laughter,
and whispers sweet nothings.

I gently close my eyes,
feeling the comfort
of Darkness's embrace.

My mind empties,
my heart lets go.
I soar into the cosmos,
beholding the simplicity
of only Light and Dark.

Silent for some time,
I find myself alone
in plain existence
and no desires.

In my All and None,
I mused at my Being
and became aware
of a conscious dream...

...and saw there Light
in Darkness's embrace
in a sea of creation
where I feel the breeze
blowing kisses on my face
in a pool of short green grass,
and Me, sitting near a tree...

...where I gently open my eyes.

by Selfshift
October 31, 2003

The Simplicity of Web Feeds using Firefox

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Tue, 09 May 2006 01:06:00 +0000

In a previous post, I've talked about RSS or web feeds in general. With web feeds, the functionality that I was looking for was two-fold: (1) generating web feeds for my blog and (2) aggregating web feeds from other blogs and websites.

I found out that Blogger generates Atom, a web feed similar to RSS. And the magic software that aggregates Atom feeds (including RSS) is Mozilla FireFox's Live Bookmarks! Yes, it's right there in one of the most popular browsers today. And it's been available since release 1.0PR in 2004. (Whaat?!)

To use this piece of genius, simply open the website using the Firefox browser, look for the radio waves symbol, and click on it. A popup for Live Bookmark appears. Click Ok.

To view your recently created Live Bookmark, click on Bookmarks --> Bookmarks Toolbar Folder --> Web Feed Name and voila! You can now see the titles of the most recent posts.

Very handy.

2006-06-19: Moved my blog's address for easy recall. Messed up my feed settings without knowing it.

2006-06-22: Discovered SharpReader as a convenient aggregator. Also discovered that I messed-up my feed settings.

2006-06-24: Fixing my feed settings. Discovered that Blogger's giving RSS feeds already, but still without feed subscription statistics. Stayed with the use of Feedburner.

A Seed Was Planted in the Earliest Month

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Sat, 05 Nov 2005 04:22:00 +0000

A seed was planted in the earliest month,
scrambled in murky mud for another half-dozen
that stirred the dormant vitality
to excruciatingly break open and reach up.

In which the growing plant pleaded,
"Uproot me, lest my spirit keel over
in the mud that nudged me to wake
yet without nutrients to remain."

Amiable in shock of new soil dug deep
by roots soon entrenched in land
born of dreams and prophecy
hidden below the mulch of the ordinary.

Alas! The plant's leaves turned faint to pale,
even as the plant's effort and will
for it to happen the other way; left with only
surrender: a barter for change.

As this wrote, so does the marvel
of budding leaves that catches dew drops
and of branches that fork hither and tither
in anticipation of the destiny of heights.

Bookaholics Anonymous

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Sat, 10 Sep 2005 23:22:00 +0000

Blame it on Booksale, National Bookstore's "Booksak Presyo," Fully Booked's sale at the Philippine Book Fair, and A Different Bookstore, I now have books to last me the remaining parts of the year.

To be exact, it's 14 books, all bought within the last month.

The quantity of books is not the only issue here. My pattern is to first start reading a book, then get excited about a different (and newly bought!) book, and so not finish the book I started with.

If there's a thing such as Bookaholics Anonymous, I'd be in it.

But the truth is I'm ok. I mean it's not bad to buy books, right? They're educational. They're like reliving life from a different point of view. And there's nothing wrong with not finishing a book. Everyone does that.

Ok, I'm in denial. Hahahaha.

Note: Of all the 14 books bought, I'm most excited about Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel (by Sussana Clarke) and the three books from A Song of Fire and Ice (by George RR Martin).

Memoirs of Summer II

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Thu, 25 Aug 2005 22:05:00 +0000

During that one night in Puerto Galera, the steady rythm of the splashing waves beckoned me to the shore. I sat on the sand floor beneath the dark bejeweled sky, reveling in this melodious seaside enchantment.

During the day, I contented myself with swimming, eating, shopping, and finally snorkeling on the shallow coral areas. At times, I am swamped by an appealing display of human specimens, some of which seemed cut out from fashion magazines.

Such crowds, however, are typically far removed from the hidden paradise of Camotes Island, which is dubbed as Cebu's Little Boracay. The waters are shallow and pristine, with almost a magical quality in it - as if mermaids will sprout from the sea and lull you into sleep.

I swam in the deeper parts of this sea, toyed cautiously with a surf board, spiked a volleyball, proffered a look on the large living clams I've discovered, and talked and laughed the rest of the time with my companions. The furnished accommodation that faces the scenic shoreline were very comfortable. The evening saw us telling stories, dining, and singing karaoke.

In the morning, I exuberantly went to the fishermen who've lined up their catch for our choice of breakfast meal. I lifted the biggest fish with my thumb pushed through one eye and with both my index and middle fingers pushed through the other - sorry there was no other way to lift this dead fish - it was maybe 3 feet long and 1.5 feet wide! We bought a different fish, which was taken away by the resort staff for grilling.

From Little Bora, I now saw myself in Boracay itself. The porous sands beneath my bare feet was enough initial excitement. Strolling the shore at night with my friends, I felt joy simply from the way the soft sand pushes up to meet my weight. And with Bora's lengthy shoreline, that is definitely a plus. There's so much to explore by walking, which is what we did in Bora's Station 1 on a night of bars, sounds, and lights.

Ah, during that blessed morning, I had a Banana Choco Peanut shake at Jonahs. The mere recall of this shake brings me to cloud 9. (I was told that, in the previous night, there was an hour long delay due to the numerous orders.)

My friends and I rented a boat to explore other points of interest. We went spelunking at Crystal Cave. We snorkled near the waters of Crocodile Island. And we swam in the waters of Puca Beach. These and many other simpler activities such as gulping halo-halo 2-3x a day and haggling with the salesladies gave us more of our fill of experience in Bora.

In all these three beaches, I never held up from the heat of the sun. Unfortunately, I got toasted in ever darker shades of grey. In time, I even got a reddish tint to it, which is indicative of a potential sunburn. As an excuse for such carelessness, I tell myself that I might have been all charcoaled up, but I also have the reddish glow of fiery embers â€“ a symbol for my impassioned spirit.

The memories from that summer heats my bones right now. Yes, the rain still torments the ground. And I am still here in the dark. I am shut in this temporary prison, which is paradoxically also my home. I cannot go out. I cannot go out.

But I do not recoil from this temporary prison. The time for adventuring is done. And the time for internal communing is at hand. Which is why this memoir came to be.

The rains had only made me recall the sun.

[Note: Many thanks to the faculty of San Carlos in Cebu for being so hospitable. The food they served at that time was international class, which I could say as well to the generosity of the people I've met there.]

PC Surgery

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Fri, 05 Aug 2005 13:03:00 +0000

I was in front of my computer, surfing the net and watching Harry Potter -- yes, both at the same time -- when my PC Alert program suddenly came out. Perplexed, I scanned through the various fan and voltage indicators splashed on the screen. When I saw that my CPU fan was not working, my eyes just popped!

From a straight line rpm of 4200, it sloped down towards nil! "Beeeep...beeeep...beeeep," shrieked the PC speaker, my messenger of doom. Then, I realized that the CPU temperature rose from 64 degrees C to a near-scalding point of 85 degrees C!

In a flurry of movements, I clumsily groped for the mouse, clicked on the shutdown button, waited wide-eyed as the OS took its time, and so in a flash decision rushed to press the off button on the PC casing instead.

My PC was dead.

Well, not really. It was having what I'd call a near death experience. “It's not his time,” I said. I took out my surgical tool (the screwdriver) and sliced open my computer (with no anesthesia, to think!). I performed a bypass operation on the CPU fan's power supply, stitched the PC casing closed, pushed the PC button on, and then voila! My PC is alive again.

Whew!

(I wonder if it got to see that light at the end of the tunnel, hehe.)

Neil Gaiman in Manila

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Mon, 11 Jul 2005 22:51:00 +0000

This blog post is a story of false expectations.

Expectation #1: The Neil Gaiman book signing would be a subdued and intimate event. Neil gets to sit in a bookstore, where a neat and gradually elongating line is building up in front of him.

Expectation #2: Neil Gaiman isn't THAT popular in the Philippines.

Expectation #3: Having bought 3 books (actually, I bought 5.), I could have them all signed.

Expectation #4: My friends and I would be able to have our book signed on Saturday (July 9th)

Expectation #5: We would get to be near Neil as he reads a preview of a yet unrealeased book: Anansi Boys.

Expectation #6: I'll get to have Neil sign a dedication on a book that I borrowed from a friend.

It turned out all of these expectations were dead WRONG!. A MOB was waiting to see Neil, which explains why we didn't get a numbered stub for that day, and why we have to strain our eyes to get to see him clearly, or why we have to pan our ears out to hear him tell the Anansi Boys story. And due to the 700 lucky people (out of 3000) waiting to have their books signed, the book signing (sometimes) looked eerily mechanical. The first day of his visit (July 9th, Saturday) was frustrating for me.

Eventually, my frustration caused me to have a different set of expectations for the next day.

New Expectation #1: Maybe around 300 people wouldn't be able to get their books signed today, so tomorrow, they'll all get to fall in line before me.

New Expectation #2: I'll get my books signed by 7:30 pm, or maybe even not.

No more Expectations #3- #6. Expectation #1 and #2 are already too much.

As much of a fan that I am of Neil's Murder Mysteries and Coraline, I thought I couldn't go to his signing on the next day. The disappointment was all over me.

Which I overcame, thank God!!!

When I got to the bookstore with my numbered stub, I was immediately ushered right up the front door, with only 3 people in front of me! Neil wasn't there yet, but when he came, I was surprised to find out he'd give a follow-up reading of Anansi Boys that day.

If the pictures posted on the right look like he was this close to me, it's because he was! I'm within arms reach of him as he read. I fancied myself as a boy being read to by a wonderful storyteller.

I also got to have two books signed early, around 4:00 pm. And to think I thought of a good thing to say less than a minute before I spoke with him. Saying "I love Murder Mysteries" might get me an approving grunt only. So I blurted something like, "My friends tell me you have a rockstar personality here in the Philippines."

"You know what, I'm being treated like a rockstar by all these people. And the MTV people were saying, 'You know, a rockstar didn't get to have as much attention as you do.' "

Don't quote me on that. I'm not even sure if my mind was already floating above my head during that time.

I know some people may not understand the excitement, but it's different when you get to read something you believe is so creative, then have its creator right within your reach.

And so you see, this is a story of false expectations. Not that I suggest you start expecting the opposite of what you actually desire. That will be lame. My point is that I've been getting these life-lessons-on-false-expectations lately, and I kinda figured it's best not to be emotionally engaged. I mean, there will always be expectations, but it's best if I come to realize when I get consummated with them.

Note: And if you're not convinced he's like this rockstar, check out this 33.6KB video clip that I got of him. Hehe. :D

Officially Launched

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Sat, 09 Jul 2005 22:59:00 +0000

When N~ recommended that I start blogging, I immediately said yes. I mean, except for the difficulty in writing, posting will be a simple upload, right?

Wrong! If you're like me anyways. Oh, and btw, N~ asked me to blog on the start of June. It's middle of July now, when I got this blog all set-up and "finalized".

Yup, it took me thaaat long to start this blog. And you'll soon find out why.

When I realized that I can actually edit the whole template, I had visions of a grand backdrop filled with reminders of stuffs I like. It turned out that I'd have to study CSS if I want to do that. Frustrated, I relented by changing the header image only instead of changing the whole backdrop. But trying to understand the default template was excruciating for a novice like me. Add to that my desire to change the background colors. Then trying to find the right combinations.

Whoa! Blogging was becoming much harder at that point. But still, I did not end my hardships there.

When I figured I could add images to my posts, I said, wow! That was a real plus, especially if I can place the images within the body of my blog posts. I had to sign in and understand how flickr.com works just so I could upload my images there.

I figured I could also use emoticons, but where to get them? That question lead to some emoticons-hunting on the net. Then, I had to tweak the html portion of my post, since the default property is to put images in a box, with paddings and borders.

Add to these the real nitty gritty for blog starters, which is profile creation. I had to really think of who I am and what I like to do. The About Me box didn't pop out of nowhere.

During all this time, I actually have some articles to post, but now I found myself delaying my uploads. I was consummed by a desire to create a blog that's more than just a coagulation of letters.

And to think some of my efforts have been wasted. Recently, Blogger made some adjustments to Blogger images. You can now place images (or links to them) and have them word wrap to your page. But before I knew of this Blogger update, I was again browsing through a CSS tutorial trying to understand how word wrapping works! What a waste of time. Grrr...

I know, I know. I've made simple blogging a bit of a nightmare. But you can't blame a techy-wannabe like me, who only wants to try and understand what Blogger has to offer.

Oh well, I guess I have to concentrate more on writing now, with my blog "officially launched." (Earlier posts were in edit mode until the date in this post, July 10.) No more wasting my time trying to find out how Blogger works.

Hmmm...wait, what's this thing about RSS feeds? What's RSS?

Here I go again!

Note: Special thanks to J~ for helping me find a tutorial for CSS :)

Memoirs of Summer I

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Tue, 21 Jun 2005 14:00:00 +0000

My vision is paled by water that buffets the car windows. Everything is wet. People are rushing to take leave from the onslaught of rains. They all want to go home. So did I.

As it turns out, my home is now a refuge from the subsequent deluge after the rains. Lightning pummels continuously, creating these frightening sounds that rattle the earth. The winds whispher, but the raindrops are spilling like bullets. Mother nature is rapt in anger and crying.

Dwarfed by the forces of nature, I take comfort in bed and read my books. Gasp! The ceiling bulb has just fizzled out.

I sit in the dark, my body bent with my arms hugging my knees. Everything becomes visible for a moment, but only when sparks from the sky fly.

In this darkest of hours, it is best to welcome a generous and steady light, even if the light comes from a mere recollection of the past. I now allow parts of my memory to seep through, causing the sun to beam in my mind.

I find myself remembering summer...

The sun was strong; I felt oppressed by the heat. But it did not curb my enthusiasm. I was game for adventuring. I had plans.

I arranged for one group of friends to go to the telltale beauty and expanse of Avilon Zoo, followed by a look on some Japanese limestone caves, and concluded by a picnic in Wawa dam at Montalban. I've got everything planned, from the expenses to the time table.

It's a pity this plan didn't push through.

Not one to be dispirited, I found the idea of planning outings more exciting.

I heard about the sublime Caleruega church near Tagaytay. And by synchronicity, a friend (J~) came back to the country for the summer. She also wanted to see Tagaytay. It took only two week's time of waiting, and then we were there.

In the streets towards Caleruega, we were welcomed by an expansive land filled with rolling hills. As we sped along the road, the hill tops were like waves that softly supersede one another.

Inside the compound, everything felt serene. We walked along the clear pathways. We basked in the colors from diverse plants adorning the landscape. The stone houses -- fully-furnished for retreats -- cooled our eyes.

As we walked near the church, I realized the doors look like netted butterfly wings. A closer inspection revealed diverging stems crawling on the door's metal-outlined glass surface.

Past this door, a carving similar to Michaelangelo's Creation Scene is attached on the wall to the right.

Walking towards the altar, our eyes were bathed by a kaleidoscope of colors. We could see the stained glass, depicting Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, occupying the entire backdrop. Large, ornately-crafted wood pieces serve as the altar and the podium. The entire place is just apple for the eyes.

From Caleruega, I found my mind racing to People's Park in the Sky. Again there was this feeling of expansiveness, being at the highest point in Tagaytay. The clouds are near; the air is tighter; and the flatlands seem to stretch forever.

But then, my mind replaced the flatlands with the sea. I now saw myself alternately in the shores of Puerto Galera, Camotes Island, and Bora.

To be continued...

Mundane Blog

noreply@blogger.com (Selfshift) — Mon, 20 Jun 2005 10:48:00 +0000

I've created my second blog, and it's called Mundane Relish. No, it's not about food or cooking. :P

The idea is to write about the bigger things in Life with a Plus! and to write about the smaller things in Mundane Relish. But, it can get pretty confusing, trying to judge what's big and not.

I can't think of a better way to describe Mundane Relish except by using the title itself. This blog's all about relishing the mundane, the little things. Because there's no big things in life, only the small things that amount to the big things in the end.

Well, I don't know if I reeally believe that, but there's some truth to it, I guess.