Wanted: Rainbow

I was treading on the pages of bits and pieces of my friends' life, where felicity is a daily lifestyle to the extent of habit. I am thrilled to know about it. I am happy for them.  But the sullen situation I have sunk in has begun to envelope me.

Not that I am being negative. I am counting my blessings. I guess this is just that time of the day when I feel everything is not in proper places and I am caught in the middle. Like every minute of my short life is slowly being dragged to the trash bin.

Everyday is the same story: impelling my body to wake up, heavy feet to mechanically direct their way to the bathroom, my numb hands to turn the knob, and my head with its messy crown to feel the cold water flowing, my eyes closed while doing all these that I considered myself to have sleepwalked. It is like a favorite song being heard over and over; the only difference is being the former not transforming into a beautiful dream but a subtle bane, played over and over and over. I'm only human. I get frazzled.

Then why am I not engaging myself with a satisfying way of time spending? The body is willing, my mind and soul are at the brink of soaring. My wings are spread, readying to ascend. But the wind is blowing to a different direction. I stumbled and kissed the ground that I swore to let go.

I tried to alter the situation; fate is not allowing me. I tried again. To no avail. There are horizons far better than my current one, but it seems too far from my grasp. Alas, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is but a product of my imagination!

Am I a defeatist? When everything is happening but nothing is transpiring in my part of the universe, I couldn't help but to be. "I need a sign", the music sings. Yeah, I need a sign. I need rain. I need sunshine after the rain.

I need a rainbow after the sunshine after the rain.

Smile

Two friends and I were on a bus, about to alight, as we reached our destination. The last stop of the bus' journey had already been arrived at, and everyone should be disembarking. One fellow was left, sleeping in the corner. And one guy tapped him on the shoulder to awake him. Initially, I thought they were pals. They weren't. Both walked their separate ways after alighting. A stranger patted the other to signal the end of the line.

I was on the verge of the last step of the same bus, one foot forward, oblivious to the person in front of me. I was preparing myself to get off. My friend had already exited the public transport when I saw her extending her hand as if reaching for something or someone. That's when I realized an old lady was in front of me, trembling, maintaining her composure while gripping the pole by her right hand tightly. She was figuring out how to transfer to the other side without tumbling over. When she saw my friend's gestural offer, she wholeheartedly took it. She must have perceived it as manna from above because, until my friend was beyond her peripheral vision, she did not stop expressing gratitude.

Small acts of kindness. God working in mystical way. Trifle to some, enormous to the receiver of the deed. I remember a post on facebook by one of my friends. It said, "Smile, because you never know whose day you are brightening with it." And I nod in total agreement.  

My Diaspora

Two and a half years ago, I departed from my comfort zone and embarked for an unknown territory. I must admit it was not easy. It was not even gracefully done. But here I am, still. Surviving. Even though every time I leave my home country after a short vacation I weep profusely, I still manage to return here.

It is my friend's turn now. Tonight, in fact right at this moment, the plane is preparing for take off. I left a family behind, she'll be leaving children. It must be more difficult for her.

This is the diaspora of the Filipino people. We are close to having a Chinatown in every country we are in. A number of us are scattered everywhere. For greener pasteur, most likely the reason is. We leave all the good things behind for materialization of dreams. At least in my case, my mom's wonderful cooking and great conversations, my brother's immaturely perfect common sense, and my father's listening ear were what I chose to exchange. Sigh. The things I miss.

A week ago, my brother informed me he prepared banana split as 'practice' for the coming Friday's pot luck in their office. Apparently, Friday is the glutton day for them, and he thought of bringing banana split. So he and his girlfriend marched to the nearest grocery store, purchased an ice cream, some fresh bananas, and a chocolate syrup he confidently bragged to me (it's not even Hershey's), and conjured the most dashingly enticing banana split I had ever seen. He showed it through Skype. Misery sinked in. It was his first time to do such and I was not even there to try it. What a thing to miss.

There is no salvation without sacrifice. That's my only consolation. That's our only consolation. The magnitude of coverage, geographically speaking, of the human population commenced when the first occupants started to pack their bags and headed for the unknown. They even travelled barefooted. I have the planes to be thankful for. And the technology that brings me closer to home. At least where I am now is only three hours away. Three travel hours, yet I can only manage to go home once a year. The irony of things.

I know salvation is there, lurking beneath the shadows of my glimmering aspirations. Life is about letting go of 'what ifs', and braving to embrace change as the only medium. I am aware I missed everything; my brother's first pirated pay, my mom's heartaches, my father's hospitalization. But I'm still positive. I look forward to the day when I can feel the rays of the sun touching my face as I wake up in my own bedroom, feeling the warmth of my mom's hand, with the sound of my brother's annoyingly loud voice chorusing with my father's deafening jazzy music in the background. I know this absence is ephemeral.

I Can Still Improve

Just when I thought I possess the knack for writing, I realize mine is elementary!

Being insomniac has its ups and downs. The good part is it gave me opportunity to browse. And browsing was indeed eye-opening.

I reckoned the world evolved around me and everything that mattered to me. Not that I am being self-centered, but hey, this blog is mine after all. But after browsing in the world wide web, I realized that, aside from my friends' experiences, there are other bloggers I can be acquainted with. They contain wonderful ideas that never inhabited my limited thinking. Ideas entirely different from my own and are worth learning from.

Like what I'm doing now. I am trying to twist my brain into producing well-versed thoughts. I am not misanthropic. I am a people person. But when I am in my solitude, I want the other part of me to take charge. I want my contemplative part to do the writing.

It is healthy to be in touch with the narrative, pensive self. And I needed to be inspired to rekindle this genre in me, if that's even what it is.

I hope I'm making sense. ^^

Iphone 4 Bandwagon: Should I Hitch a Ride?

April 2010, Silicon Valley: News about the existence of Iphone 4 leaked out after Apple's software engineer accidentally 'misplaced' the prototype in a bar. It revealed upgrades of the Iphone 3: video on high-definition, video-calling made possible with its front camera, better picture quality with its 5 mega-pixel camera. I was thrilled.

June 2010, US: People camped out all night just to be one of those chosen few who could get hold of the Iphone 4 first. Despite the information leakage, which was thought to discourage sales numbers, Iphone 4 hit three million of units sold in three weeks, and counting. And counting. It is becoming a phenomenon. I thought it was crazy.

Blackberry, the preferred phone of the corporate world, is beginning to decline its marketability. It is being replaced by Iphone. Bankers in London started it. It has been predicted that only a matter of time before all other businesses follow suit. Iphone 4 is gradually becoming a necessity, at least in the business world.

However, despite it being Apple's smartest phone so far, a glitch in the system arose. They said if the device is held wrongly, it disrupts reception. The signal bar decreases, which Steve Jobs explained as a usual fact across all wireless devices. Some other devices have worse flaws, theirs is rectifiable. The company addressed it by giving away free casing. The masses bought the resolution, continued purchasing the product, making Steve Jobs and its company, Apple, topple Microsoft as the giant in the technology industry.

August 2010, US: Today, Apple executive in charge of engineering, Mark Papermaster, resigned over complaints of poor reception. Hmm.. Just when I thought everything was under control. What's wrong with this picture?

And the most important question is, should I buy it?

August 2010, SG: My tech life is complete. I have my wonderful laptop, my pink Ipod, my faithful phone, and my fantastic DSLR camera. But when news spread about Iphone 4, it almost made me want to have one. The package is beautiful, with it I can be online 24/7, downloadable games are possible through Itunes. Iphone 4 is a status symbol. Should I take a ride on the bandwagon, then?

Hmm.. If connecting with my family overseas and the rest of the world will make Steve Jobs richer than he is now, if it means having to shell out some sweat and blood, hard-earned money and be committed for two years because of the plan, if it means having to be online more and personal interaction lesser, to be able to play more games and read lesser books, lesser humdrum moments and lesser contemplations... Hmm. I am having qualms.

We'll see.

Sr

The hardest part of hello is saying goodbye. Especially when you are bidding farewell to every single one you love.

Last year she was okay. A few months ago, we were informed that her ailment had recurred. She needed to undergo the same series of nightmarish treatments. Yesterday, she requested to be transferred to a hospice. The journey is finishing.

We planned to visit her on Saturday upon knowing how grave the situation is. But I guess time is what she's running out of. Among all the things she's running out of, time has the heaviest weight. And every tick of the clock is a miracle.

So the visit was plotted today. We travelled almost two hours to reach there. They said the hospice is the dead end; people go in, they don't go out. We took the lift, I felt desolation. We knocked on her door, I was surprised by what greeted us. She was there on her bed, emaciated, pallid, looking very fragile. She aged. We said hi, feigning the excitement in our voice. Though she could hear us, she did not respond much. She didn't talk. In the middle of our prayer, she let go some tears. The situation was unbearable.

I am certain that if there is any way she could buy time, she would give up everything, every single tangible and intangible, material and immaterial, possessions, gifts, or intelligence she has, for a little more extension. And God has greater plans. He has greater, unfathomable plans, where bidding for a moment may not be considerable. Or maybe it is. This is all a big blueprint, and our doings are the thumb mark of our identity.

There was not much to speak about. In the middle of the prayer, I cried. I cried when my other friend, while saying the third mystery of the Rosary, stood up and held her hand. I cried when I remembered the golden shoes she gave me. I did not have the opportunity to wear them in front of her. I'm wishing for that chance to come. When we bid goodbye, I told her we'll see her again. In God's most complex plans, showering miracles are His greatest slip-of-the-tongue. I'm praying to see her again, in her best physique. She used to wear the nicest clothes, I was told. I wish to see her in them. I know her for around two years, I'm hoping to get to know her more. God grants the sincerest wishes, in His own way. In His own time. In His own judgement. And when everything fails, the words of God will prevail. It will never fade. Even if our body does.

The Essence of Catechism

Fifth day of Sunday School. I was not able to attend last week's meeting because of my Melaka trip. I miss the kids.

Today's activity was about inspiring others by writing to them a prayer. After the discussion, we distributed some cards for the kids to write a prayer on. The prayers were meant for the Primary 3 kids who are about to embark on their First Holy Communion. The cards were folded in half; they were supposed to design it and write a prayer inside. On the outside of the card was the name of a Primary 3 kid. Each card bore one name. So we started distributing them.

We have about 25 kids in the class; the number of Primary 3 students is double (we were given names from three classes). We needed everything written on; we did not want to disappoint the Primary 3 kids who would receive blank cards. Initially, we gave the girls two each, the boys one. But those boys who finished early, we gave another one as well. I was distributing the second piece to the boys at the back of the class when I encountered this kid. I asked him, "How many have you written?". "Two", he said. I repeated, "Two?" He said, "Two". So I said ok. I moved on and talked to his classmate who was sitting beside him. I gave this classmate his second card when this particular boy dragged his chair closer to his classmate and said to me, "Actually, I only did one..."

Catechism is about knowing our faith. It is about realizing God's omnipotence, and His immense love. But catechism is also about transformation. The kid wanted to escape from doing the second card, but somehow, there was something in him that made him retract. I asked him how come he said two then, gave him another one, and thanked him. I thanked him for his honesty, and for proving what catechism is really about.

I attended the Teaching as a Profession Seminar yesterday at Orchard Hotel, a project by the Ministry of Education as a way of inviting prospects into the teaching life. They showed a short movie about what teachers teach. One teacher said, "I teach everything". My catechism class may not be as rigorous as the classroom setting, but the harvest is the same. Teaching is about transformation, whether it is carrying out their dreams, harnessing their gifts, or just plainly motivating them to be the best God's kids they could ever be.

I read some of the prayers, one was very artistic, some were funny. The one that inspired me the most was the one prayer written by the most talkative in the class. After a lot of persuading, I finally made him jot down something. I knew he could think up a thought, but whatever he penned down there was more than I had envisioned. He congratulated the kid for finally receiving the Holy Communion (he spelt it as Congratz!), asked God for guidance for the kid, and may He always bless him. We were touched. Here is a kid who could not stop talking, but when he is quiet and focused on whatever he is doing, he gives his best. He is capable of doing anything. They are capable of doing anything. Anyone who is God's precious child is able to do just about anything. ^^