My Yin & Yang

This day is full of surprises:) Thank you to my former students Mimi & Allen for sending me flowers, balloons & cake on my birthday. I’m simply touched by the gesture. To my anonymous students who sent me meaningful messages & to my family for making this day extra special, thank you pips. A “thank you” may seem sound too simple, but what other words are there for gratitude?

Throughout thirteen years of martial law, until I laid eyes on her again, I never thought that I would ever see the end of it. Least of all that my father would survive it. I am not much given to prayer or pious reflection but when I could set aside my anger, I prayed my father would see democracy again.

Late one afternoon, in San Francisco, I got a call. It was from Cory Aquino, for whom I had written one speech after her husband’s assassination. She said she had accepted Marcos’s challenge in a Snap Presidential Election. I put down the phone, and packed my bags, and reported to her at the Cojuangco Building.

I knew then she was the answer to my prayers. What I did not notice was that the closer we came to victory, which is to say the farther the prospect receded that the Marcos regime would survive, the less I felt the anger inside me. As each day passed, bringing me closer to the day I could get even, the less I felt the need for it as I spent more time with the woman who alone could make it possible.

I did not notice, but I was no longer looking back in anger, or looking forward even, to victory and vindication. Only now do I see. I had lived with my anger so long, only for the day to come when it no longer mattered to me. The only thing that counted was that I was living every day to the fullest, bringing out the best in me—for someone else. A dream I hadn’t had since I was a boy, feeding on stories of chivalry, had been achieved. I was serving a woman who was every inch a sovereign, all the more for scorning the slightest pretension to the role.

I did not realize it, even when I was already in the Palace, by the side of the President—among all her advisers, I like to think, the one who loved her most.

It never again occurred to me that I had scores to settle. And not until today, that I had passed up every chance to get even.

From the moment I came in from the airport and reported for duty, and she gave me in return the same smile she gave me on her deathbed, I never noticed… Not when I was with her in the campaign when she corrected me for not looking at the people I was waving at… Nor when I was with her in the presidential limousine looking intently, for her benefit, at the crowds at whom I waved… I never noticed anything. Except that I was with the only person that I would ever want to be with.

I certainly never noticed that I had left my anger behind. I don’t know how it happened. Except that Cory Aquino ennobled everyone who came near her. I have tried to say it publicly but never could finish. If you saw me as I felt myself to be, anyone would fall in love with me. I saw myself in that hospital room, a knight at the bedside of his dying sovereign, on the eve of a new Crusade, oblivious to the weight of the armor on his shoulders for the weight of the grief in his heart.

And because she always doubted my ability to be good for very long… Indeed, when my wife told Ballsy that I prayed the rosary at Lourdes for her mother’s recovery, Cory said, “Teddy Boy prayed the rosary? A miracle! I feel better already.” Because she doubted my capacity for self-reformation, she made it effortless for me by being herself. I did not notice that I was doing right by serving a woman who never did wrong. I am not sure how to take this moral self-discovery. It is so unlike myself. But if it will bring me before her again, I am happy.

1. Multiply your cellphone’s last number by 2.

2. Add 5 and multiply by 50.

3. Add your age, add 365 and minus 615.

4. The first number is the last number of your cellphone and the last 2 numbers is your age.

Just do it! It’s fun!

It has been a while that I haven’t written something here. I just got back from the City of Man (ila) and  I’m still sorting my photos and my thoughts on this eventful journey.  Thank you Kat, Yon, and Reissa for the jurag, the coffee, the books (yes, the books), the warm welcome, and the memories.  You made my week.

To everyone who has found love, who has lost it,

To everyone on his way to it, returning from it,

To everyone who blooms with it, grows with it and glows with it,

To everyone who would die for it and live only because of it,

Happy Valentines Day!!!

* * * * * *

“I walk through the skeleton of the cathedral, studying the restoration work currently being carried out: this time the architects guarantee that they have found the perfect solution. Everywhere there are metal supports, scaffolding, grand theories about what to do next, and some criticism about what was done in the past.

“And suddenly, in the middle of the central nave, I realize something very important: the cathedral is me, it is all of us. We that need to be corrected, we don’t always choose the best solution, but we carry on regardless, trying to remain upright and decent, in order to do honor not to the walls or the doors or the windows, but to the empty space inside, the place where we worship and venerate what is dearest and most important to us.

“Yes, we are all cathedrals, there is no doubt about it; but what lies in the empty space of my inner cathedral?

“Esther, the Zahir.

“She fills everything. She is the only reason I am alive. I look around, I prepare myself for the talk I am to give, and I understand why I braved the snow, the traffic jams, and the ice on the roads: in order to be reminded that every day I need to rebuild myself and to accept — for the first time in my entire existence — that I love another human being more than I love myself.

“On the way back to Paris — in far more favorable weather conditions — I am in a kind of trance: I do not think, I merely concentrate on the traffic. When I get home, I ask the maid not to let anyone in, and ask her if she can sleep over for the next few nights and make me breakfast, lunch, and supper. I stamp on the small apparatus that connects me to the Internet, destroying it completely. I unplug the telephone. I put my cell phone in a box and send it to my publisher, saying that he should only give it back to me when I come around personally to pick it up.

“For a week, I walk by the Seine each morning, and when I get back, I lock myself in my study. As if I were listening to the voice of an angel, I write a book, or, rather, a letter, a long letter to the woman of my dreams, to the woman I love and will always love. This book might one day reach her hands and even if it doesn’t, I am now a man at peace with his spirit. I no longer wrestle with my wounded pride, I no longer look for Esther on every corner, in every bar and cinema, at every supper. I no longer look for her in Marie or in the newspapers.

“On the contrary, I am pleased that she exists; she has shown me that I am capable of a love of which I myself knew nothing, and this leaves me in a state of grace.

“I accept the Zahir, and will let it lead me into a state of either holiness or madness.”

-The Zahir, A Novel of Obsession by Paulo Coelho

* * * * *

Don’t pinch me please. Let me go on dreaming. …I know you will come and carry me out into the palace of winds. That’s all I’ve wanted - to walk in such a place with you, with friends, an earth without maps. The lamp’s gone out…I’m writing in the darkness.

“That night I fell in love with a voice. Only a voice. I wanted to hear nothing more.”

We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes; tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers, characters we have hidden if as if caves, fears we have climbed up as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on my body when i am dead. I believe in such cartography, to be marked by nature. Not just to label ourselves like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communial books, communial histories. All that I wished was to walk upon an earth that had no maps.-The English Patient

* * * * *

“I am no one special, just a common man with common thoughts. I’ve led a common life, there are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect, I’ve succeeded as gloriously as anyone who ever lived…I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul and for me… that has always been enough.” - The Notebook

* * * * *

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute, we read and write poetry because we are members of the human race, and the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, and engineering. These are the noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “oh me, oh life! of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless — of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, Oh me, Oh life?” Answer that you are here, that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse - the powerful play goes on.. and you may contribute a single verse, what will your verse be? -Robin Williams, Dead poets society

* * * * *

“Profound desire, true desire is the desire to be close to someone.  From that point onwards, things change, the man and the woman come into play, but what happens before–the attraction that brought them together–is impossible to explain.  It is untouched desire in its purest state.  When desire is still in this pure state, the man and the woman fall in love with life, they live each moment reverently, consciously, always ready to celebrate the next blessing.  When people feel like this, they are not in a hurry, they do not precipitate events with unthinking actions.  They know that the inevitable will happen, that what is real always finds a way of revealing itself.  When the moment comes, they do not hesitate, they do not miss an opportunity, they do not let slip a single magic moment, because they respect the importance of each second.”-Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho

I first read Michael’s article in Youngblood about a decade ago and it left a remarkable impression on me. He is one Filipino and Bisdak writer whom I am truly proud of.  This profound prayer that he recently wrote to his son Aegan moved me deeply. In this modern wilderness filled with broken homes and wounded souls, may there be more fathers like him.

* * * *

May your appetite abound with broccolis, carrots, spinach, utan-Bisaya, avocados and bananas. May your scars be skin-deep only. May you grow with the grace of a Gene Kelly and a Buster Keaton. May you sway your head along a Yoyoy Villame tune. May you memorize the 23rd psalm and some of Rumi’s poetry.

Here’s a surprising read..and something worth re-posting.  I read de Quiros’ flattering column about the Chief Justice two weeks ago on the same paper. There is an obvious  contradiction here. It seems that de Quiros failed to do his homework as a journalist –ESP

In the court of the crimson king

By Patricia Evangelista
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 00:12:00 01/25/2009

WHEN the doors open, the chatter stops, and the people rise as a body. There is silence as he strides up to the dais, grave-faced and sober-eyed. In this temple he is high priest, his is the way, the truth, and the light. He does not understand, however, that they do not rise only because he is Reynato Puno, champion of human rights, hero of the press, the anointed son of Holy Mother Church. They stand because of the dark robe that falls in heavy folds to his feet, because of the gavel he carries, because of the soaring ceilings, because of the compulsion of decades of other men and women rising to the idea of a judge, the man of unimpeachable character who has risen above all men to preside as the Chief Justice.

To play judge and jury does not only require decisions made and signed to be effective. It requires that these decisions be believed, held as true by the majority, because these are decisions made and signed by the highest court in the land. It is why the court must be known for its lack of biases, its independence from opinion, suggestion and ambition, its absolute dedication to the rule of law. To become Chief Justice, to accept that heavy weight of responsibility, is to also accept that he is no longer just a man, he is the law made flesh, a living, breathing representative of justice, and as such is not permitted the personal whims and private follies of any man. After all, in a battle for perception, every chink in that man’s character is an assault on the law he upholds.

Let me take you to the court of this man we call chief justice, the gentleman who smiled at suggestions that he abandon his post as justice. “I must consult my advisers,” he says, his grandchildren of three and four and seven. How whimsical, some said. How charming, said others, the wisest man in the land bowing to three tots in a decision that will affect the fate of the nation. Others saw it for what it was not. It was not an outright refusal, as it should have been. It was not a reproof to those who dared assault the system he was meant to protect from even the echoes of this sort of rumor. It was an invitation—ask me, convince me, keep my name on the national headline. It was that same coyness that began the 2 million signature drive to “convince” Chief Justice Reynato Puno to run for the presidency, that gave credence to Sen. Ping Lacson’s posturing as a martyr willing to give up ambition for a higher cause, that had four-year-old party Ang Kapatiran raising their voices in hope and prayer.

More ominous is this: that this symbol of justice, of law and order, announced to all who would listen that the people should not pin their hopes on the legal system—the one bulwark at a time when there is little left to believe in—but instead pin their hopes on a moral system, on some vague notion of a moral revolution.

He talks about “character,” as “who we are when no one is watching.” Who is this man, when nobody watched? He is the man who represented the Marcos government in the martial law years with Marcos’ solicitor general Estelito Mendoza, his mentor. He is the man who defended the 1973 constitution that extended the term of Ferdinand Marcos. He acted as both solicitor general and minister of justice in Mendoza’s stead at a time when many were lost and killed in the same fashion that those he stands for now were lost and killed. He is the man who has failed to inhibit himself repeatedly in cases involving his friends, including decisions that favored his erstwhile mentor. And he was conveniently on leave during the momentous decisions on the CPR (calibrated preemptive response), Proclamation 1017, and RA 464.

He said, in one of his many public appearances, that there are too many laws. He said that the problem is that there is a lack of morality.

Now he says he will not run, after shaking hands with activist priest Robert Reyes and listening to his appeals, after his long lectures on morality and claims to great character. He may be a good man, a moral man. But we do not need a man, moral or otherwise, or at least, moral by the standards of Puno himself. What we need is a judge of men, not one who has made himself so open to judgment.

Thanks to Smart Bro. I’m now hooked to the worldwide web 24/7 so I have renewed my interest in blogging and cyberspace surfing but I feel something is missing. The feel is quite different when you’re in your own bedroom by your lonesome, surfing and reading endless streams of information deep into the night. It turns you into a nocturnal animal. And a solitary one.

Before my Smart Broadband subscription, I was a regular in the internet cafe’s nearby. I used to patiently wait for my turn to occupy a unit and it gave me a different kick when I was finally given a seat to indulge in the experience of surfing. I was often in the company of high school kids who were online game junkies and boy, they (sometimes) smelled of nicotine and sweat. It was not uncommon to hear heated exchanges among themselves when they were in the height of their excitement; their hormones raging. “putang-ina mo pare!” (in English: motherfucker), “sheeeet!” (prolonged version of shit), gago! (stupid! asshole!), pesteng yawa! (fuck the devil!) were just a few of the many curses strewn in midair -sometimes in unison. It was irksome at first but eventually I learned to live with it. No big deal. There ain’t no point in sweating the small stuff. In the course of time, I made friends with some of them and they would greet and smile at me when they see me public. “Hi ate! kumusta? where have you been lately? I haven’t seen you around,” they’d ask me if my absence was unusually prolonged. Outside the cafe’, they were surprisingly polite and courteous and we shared a common bond. We were the “regulars” in a different world, alienated from other mortals.

There were other habitues too and they were women from another spectrum of society busy chasing their dreams of snaring some white-colored cupid in cyberspace. I knew because they were blatantly open about it and their clothes made a statement. “Hi Lab, I miss you na!” “I want to be success in marriage”,”Please, please, loud honey. I am not hear you, okay?” “Honey, I need cash. I have problem.” I would sometimes find it difficult to suppress a giggle when I hear them chatting in their crooked English with some European or American guy from a thousand miles away. I can only wish them well. They have their own dreams of being flown in a magic carpet to some foreign land where the promise of a better life awaits them. Unwittingly, they have reaffirmed that I am lucky to have such an existence. That a good solid education empowers a woman, and that empowerment can lead to a life of choices. Bless the multiplier effect. I can go through a state of celibacy like mayonnaise; I can keep cool without freezing.

It has been almost two months that I haven’t dropped in. I’m not a regular anymore. The curses and the coquettish voices are now replaced by mellow thumps emanating from my own keyboard. There is a stillness and some lucid intervals sometimes marked by a deafening silence.

But there are endless possibilities.

The Twelve Months (with my attached comments on my birth month)

JANUARY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Ambitious and serious. Loves to teach and be taught. Always looking at people’s flaws and weaknesses. Likes to criticize. Hardworking and productive. Smart, neat and organized. Sensitive and has deep thoughts. Knows how to make others happy. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Rather reserved. Highly attentive. Resistant to illnesses but prone to colds. Romantic but has difficulties expressing love. Loves children. Loyal. Has great social abilities yet easily jealous. Very stubborn and money cautious.

FEBRUARY: Abstract thoughts. Loves reality and abstract. Intelligent and clever. Changing personality. Attractive. Sexy. Temperamental. Quiet, shy and humble. Honest and loyal. Determined to reach goals. Loves freedom. Rebellious when restricted. Loves aggressiveness. Too sensitive and easily hurt. Gets angry really easily but does not show it. Dislikes unnecessary things. Loves making friends but rarely shows it. Daring and stubborn. Ambitious. Realizes dreams and hopes. Sharp. Loves entertainment and leisure. Romantic on the inside not outside. Superstitious and ludicrous. Spendthrift. Tries to learn to show emotions.

MARCH: Attractive personality ( Ehem) Sexy (Ehem) Affectionate. Shy and reserved. Secretive. Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic. Loves peace and serenity. Sensitive to others. Loves to serve others. Easily angered. Trustworthy. Appreciative and returns kindness. Observant and assesses others.
Revengeful - Mmm,Nah! Loves to dream and fantasize. Loves traveling. Loves attention. Hasty decisions in choosing partners.Nah! Loves home decors. Musically talented. Loves special things. Moody. BINGO!!! Most of these traits are true for me .

APRIL: Active and dynamic. Decisive and hasty but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic. Consoling, friendly and solves people’s problems. Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Emotional. Aggressive. Hasty. Good memory. Moving. Motivates oneself and others. Sickness usually of the head and chest. Sexy in a way that only their lover can see.

MAY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Strong-willed and highly motivated. Sharp thoughts. Easily angered. Attracts others and loves attention. Deep feelings. Beautiful physically and mentally. Firm Standpoint. Needs no motivation. Easily consoled. Systematic (left brain). Loves to dream. Strong clairvoyance. Understanding. Sickness usually in the ear and neck. Good imagination. Good physical. Weak breathing. Loves literature and the arts. Loves traveling. Dislike being at home. Restless. Not having many children. Hardworking. High spirited. Spendthrift.

JUNE: Thinks far with vision. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best. Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills. Talkative. Daydreamer. Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Able to show character. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Brand conscious. Executive. Stubborn.

JULY: Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation. Easily consoled. Honest. Concerned about other people’s feelings. Tactful. Friendly. Approachable. Emotional temperamental and unpredictable. Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. Not revengeful. Forgiving but never forgets. Dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things. Guides others physically and mentally. Sensitive and forms impressions carefully. Caring and loving. Treats others equally. Strong sense of sympathy. Wary and sharp. Judges people through observations. Hardworking. No difficulties in studying. Loves to be alone. Always broods about the past and the old friends. Likes to be quiet. Homely person. Waits for friends. Never looks for friends. Not aggressive unless provoked. Prone to having stomach and dieting problems. Loves to be loved. Easily hurt but takes long to recover.

AUGUST: Loves to joke. Attractive. Suave and caring. Brave and fearless. Firm and has leadership qualities. Knows how to console others. Too generous and egoistic. Takes high pride in oneself. Thirsty for praises. Extraordinary spirit. Easily angered. Angry when provoked. Easily jealous. Observant. Careful and cautious. Thinks quickly. Independent thoughts. Loves to lead and to be led. Loves to dream. Talented in the arts, music and defense. Sensitive but not petty. Poor resistance against illnesses. Learns to relax. Hasty and trusty. Romantic. Loving and caring. Loves to make friends.

SEPTEMBER:
Suave and compromising- depends.
Careful, cautious and organized- of course. It pays to be.
Likes to point out people’s mistakes. -If I’m in a position to, I would.
Likes to criticize. - If necessary.
Stubborn. - hahaha… ask my mother.
Quiet but able to talk well.- not really quiet.
Calm and cool. - if i’m not having a bad day.
Kind and sympathetic. - certainly not to my enemies haha :->
Concerned and detailed. - I can be.
Loyal but not always honest. - very loyal, tries to be honest all the time.
Does work well. - Ask my superior. She knows best.
Very confident. Sensitive. A minus (A-) on both.
Good memory. - depends.
logical- Go figure.
Clever and knowledgeable. - not all the time. Still learning.
Loves to look for information. depends on the information.
Able to motivate oneself. - if the motive is right.
Fun to be around. - What do you think?
Secretive. -sometimes.
Loves leisure and traveling. sure.
Hardly shows emotions. emotions are traps.
Tends to bottle up feelings. what kind of feelings?
Systematic. Ask those who were or under me. they know best.
Very choosy, especially in relationships. Of course. I deserve the best because I only give the best. Amen.

OCTOBER: Loves to chat. Loves those who loves them. Loves to take things at the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but doesn’t pretend. Gets angry often. Treat friends importantly. Always making friends. Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer. Opinionated. Does not care of what others think. Emotional. Decisive. Strong clairvoyance. Loves to travel, the arts and literature. Touchy and easily jealous. Concerned. Loves outdoors. Just and fair. Spendthrift. Easily influenced. Easily loses confidence. Loves children.

NOVEMBER: Has a lot of ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinks forward. Unique and brilliant. Extraordinary ideas. Sharp thinking. Fine and strong clairvoyance. Can become good doctors. Dynamic in personality. Secretive. Inquisitive. Knows how to dig secrets. Always thinking. Less talkative but amiable. Brave and generous. Patient. Stubborn and hard-hearted. If there is a will, there is a way. Determined. Never give up. Hardly becomes angry unless provoked. Loves to be alone. Thinks differently from others. Sharp-minded. Motivates oneself. Does not appreciate praises. High-spirited. Well-built and tough. Deep love and emotions. Romantic. Uncertain in relationships. Homely. Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest and keeps secrets. Not able to control emotions. Unpredictable.

DECEMBER: Loyal and generous. Sexy. Patriotic. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Loves to socialize. Loves praises. Loves attention. Loves to be loved. Honest and trustworthy. Not pretending. Short tempered. Changing personality. Not egotistic. Take high pride in oneself. Hates restrictions. Loves to joke. Good sense of humor. Logical.

What you resist will indeed persist.

A few days ago, I received  text messages from a guy who once made my heart jingle and yell oodles of *I’m crazy for you* tunes but instead of feeling ecstatic, my reaction surprised me. I felt nothing. The bloke was obviously trying to start again were we once left off, but instead of being flattered, I felt like I was eating a piece of a day-old violet pai sans the sugar and the Star margarine. There are shared moments in life which are best buried in memory. I chose to bury those moments because I do not want to be forever a captive of it. In life, many things are possible but some are simply not right and there are things which are non-negotiable like trust and integrity. This is also a little bit scatological but truth be told: when a guy’s penis gets hard, his brains gets soft. These are difficult lessons, but they are worth learning and they are best pondered in solitude.

I’ve been out of the dating pool for almost a century now and one might think I’m an emotional imbecile (I beg to disagree). Okay, I can be a cold-hearted female (insert the word rational instead) but that does not make me an emotional imbecile, a moron, or worst, an idiot. I just happen to think, and I think a lot.

During my life time, I’ve swung wildly from nymph to hopeless romantic, without much time spent in the in-between areas. I’m totally clueless with regard to what to expect from the more casual “getting to know you” and I can’t imagine turning myself into the ultimate Southern femme fatale just so I could snare the Matt Damon’s of this world, so I’m back to my old quixotic state, momentarily feeling a sense of content and calm, while listening to Gloria Gaynor belt out “I will Survive!” amid the rain and the storm.