Just Needed a 'Lil Push

Song of the Moment: Shhhh by Frou Frou

Today was the fourth day of becoming. 

For a considerable amount of time, I was absolutely beset with useless perceptions of incapacity. I don't know what happened to me during college, but I think I lost much of my confidence during those four years.

But I'm now at my fourth day. In graduate school. And I feel different. 

I used to actually look down on people who always seem to reinvent themselves, declaring the coming of change over and over and over again. But in this case, I'd like to think that my reinvention, albeit the nth time, is actually part of a continuous process... and perhaps it'll take me several moments of enlightenment to reinvent myself in this lifetime. This might be one of those moments for me. I have a good feeling that this is the start of another swing of changes. I'll be a better version of myself after this. :)  

 

A Life of Contrast

Duck Confit. And All Things Lavish. (In-Yo)

Song of the Moment: Chasing Pavements by Adele

Last wednesday, I saw what it meant to be a middle-class girl.

I went to Cabuyao, Laguna to attend a meeting at the plant. We reached lunch hour and decided to eat at an informal dining area (aka turo-turo), as it was the only available eatery around the area. A few minutes before reaching the eatery, I received a call. 

"Vanessa! Where are you?"

"Hi tito, I'm at Laguna right now."

"Oh, can you join us for lunch? We have a lunch at 1pm for Dignitary V's birthday, here at the house. Dignitary G and Dignitary E will be having lunch here. La Tosca will be catering too."

"Ohhh.. uhm, thank you very much for the invitation, tito. But I don't think I can make it back in time."

"Oh okay, well, maybe next time, ok? I just wanted to invite you."

"Thank you po." 

In my head, I imagined two scenarios taking place at the same time. These two events were simultaneously occurring within the circles I move around in. One involved a simple lunch of adobo on plastic green plates, in a make-shift dining area, coupled with the blaring sounds of a television tuned into EAT BULAGA. The other involved a lavish Spanish-Filipino setting of Lechon de Leche and Duck Rolls on expensive chinaware, in an air-conditioned dining area adorned with beautiful floral centerpieces and crisp white table sheets, coupled with the ambient music of a live quartet performance.

 

And I was literally left at awe in the middle of it all.

Love at Sunrise, Love at Sunset

Song of the Moment: Breakdown by Deerheart

6:45am. I woke up this morning just in time to watch a good friend being featured on Umagang Kay Ganda’s Valentine Episode. My friend has been with his girlfriend for 5-6 years. She now works in Shanghai, while he works in Manila. They both fly in and out of Manila frequently just to be with each other.  One day, she flies in from Shanghai and noticed something unusual. Huge signs were plastered all over NAIA 1, with messages of endearment for someone. “I don’t know most of you, but I know someone on this plane...” A long red ribbon followed the passengers’ path from the airplane tube to immigration. “...I can’t wait to be with her for the rest of my life.” She thought nothing of this of course, until after she crossed immigration. A line of  airport staff greeted her with huge, knowing smiles, and she was just puzzled. The human barricade parted in the middle to reveal my good friend, on one knee, carrying a small box and a dazzling engagement ring. “Will you marry me?” Yes. He had to propose in the most ostentatious way he knew. And there is no way anyone could say no to that.

10:30am. I was working on some materials for our company’s job openings, when my dad starts opening up to me. He starts explaining to me, that if E and I are very serious about our relationship, then it is very important for us to really sit down and talk about who we really are, what annoys us, what makes us happy, what our dreams are and how we’ll get there together without compromising our individuality. I appreciate it when my dad talks to me about these things, so I listened intently. But at the end, he wasn’t just giving parental advice to her “last daughter” but more so, he wanted to air out all his frustrations and thoughts on surviving a 30-year marriage. As I listened to his stories, I began to realize more and more how much effort is involved in marriage. Ambition. Competition. Self-Interest. Selflessness. Communication. Silence. Fears. Joy. Heartbreak. Bliss. Anger. Regret. Commitment. Loneliness. Conflict. Love. Money. Love and Money. Faith. Appreciation. Gratitude. Understanding. Acceptance. His final statement was, “At the end of the day, you just have to learn to accept things you can never change.”                 

Today, I was moved by two stories of love. One is just beginning a life of love, and the other is already counting lessons from decades of choosing to love. So today, I’m acknowledging two inclinations. There’s a part of me that’s excited about starting a new life with another; there’s also a part of me that cautions about the kind of commitment marriage involves. 

Admittedly, just like any other girl in her mid-20s, I do get a bit jealous every time I hear about another batch mate getting engaged or married. And mind you, they’re a LOT. I can’t help but feel that I've been outdone. Perhaps this discomfort has something to do with having a distorted concept of competitive maturity. That maybe I’ve led myself to believe that I’m supposed to mature faster than they could. But really, how can I possibly gauge something as abstract as maturity? 

On the other hand, every time I listen to my dad speak about his marriage to my mom, I always end up thinking about what his experiences might mean to me. When he speaks about marital conflicts that can’t seem to be resolved, I no longer feel pain over the reality that my parents, after all these years, may not be compatible after all. If I were in my teens and my dad told me all these things, I’d probably jump off the next window I could find. But this time, it’s different. Instead of feeling resentment, I end up respecting my dad and my mom even more. They’re human, like you and me. And their love was never perfect. Their love was never blissful. But it was love nonetheless. And it has lasted through decades of friction and harmony. We, young lovers, may complain about the littlest things, argue about the most petty issues. But here’s a couple that has lasted through years of deep misunderstanding with wounds that are just too deep to heal.  I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that is.   

In four days, the world will find an excuse to celebrate love. Love is an overused theme indeed, but it is one of the most elusive topics known to man. We always ask what true love means. Is it defined by the level of grandeur, as in declaring one’s love in public? Or is it best manifested in a silent sense of comfort and understanding? Does it have an age requirement, a +5/-2 age compatibility? Does it have a religious undertone, that one has to be of the same faith? Does it have a gender preference, or can we ever accept two women who claim they are in love? Can one claim to be truly in love after just a few weeks of companionship? Or is there a specific time period for one to truly be ready to love the other completely? Can we ever learn to love strong enough to last a lifetime? I don’t know the correct answers to these questions. There are no correct answers, just as much as there are no wrong ones. As far as I know, you just love. In the best way you know how. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

By the way, here’s “Breakdown” by Deerheart, one of the saddest songs I know. It talks about people who may love each other now but change over time: 

I saw you. You saw me.
That's when I needed you. You needed me.
I kissed you. You kissed me.
And thought, forever, yeah, we'd always be.

Well I like you. You like me.
Seems that we fit so perfectly.
You make me feel worthy.
And I've let you take care of me.

(Chorus)
Ohhh.
Were alright now,
Gonna break down the breakdown.
Move from where we stand,
See what we don't want to see.

I love you. You love me.
Oh but lately, something’s wearing on me.
I've been growing.
I've been changing.
And seems like you're barely moving.

(Chorus)
There is nothing we can do to get past this.
Nothing you could say.
Baby please don't fret.
Our time has moved passed us.

I love you.
You love me.
Is it possible we love differently?
You need me, but I need to
Feel strong, baby, without you.

Testing the Virtuous

Song of the Moment: The Golden Floor by Snow Patrol

12mn. It was the day after the 2004 elections. I was driving to Ateneo to take the midnight shift for NAMFREL QC's Quick Count. Obviously, not a lot of people wanted to take that shift. It was inconvenient. You'd have to take extra cups of coffee. You'd have to be more vigilant because the early morning hours can play tricks on you and your ability to decipher the canvassing sheets. You'd have to go to school in the middle of the month of May, which to most is a travesty of the concept of vacation. But I decided to sign up for it anyway. Because I was feeling nationalistic. This is my chance to concretely contribute to social development and Philippine governance.

I was about to take a turn into Shaw Blvd. from Rodriguez Street in Mandaluyong City. I was steadily inching up the road just outside the Archbishop's Palace. And between feeling nationalistic at midnight and making the sign of the cross next to the revered Archbishop's chapel, I witnessed a crime. 

A man, armed with a pocket knife, was pulling a young woman's shoulder bag. The woman was screaming, "Magnanakaw!" But the man was swifter than the wind. He was running down the street; the woman was running after him. He hailed a jeepney, and in a few seconds, one jeep stopped in front of him.   

And I was right there, frozen in fear and indecision. I imagined myself positioning my vehicle just a few meters forward, enough to block the jeep from getting away. I imagined myself alighting my car, and calling attention to the man who stole the bag. I imagined myself looking straight into the jeep's glaring headlights long enough to give the woman just enough time to catch up with the man, identify him as a criminal and allow the jeep's passengers to act on the crime as well.

I imagined all these in a few crucial seconds....

...and then I watched the jeep speed off.    

I went on my not-so-merry way, disturbed beyond explanation. I am supposed to be a religious, nationalistic woman. I believed I was actively virtuous --- someone who knew how to persecute wrongdoing and acknowledge righteousness given any situation. But in this case, my righteousness remained a thought process.

To make matters worse, after driving a good 500meters down Shaw Boulevard, I saw a police station right by the side of the road. I hesitated a bit, wondered if I should report what I saw. But I still didn't stop.

At that point, tears started to streak my cheeks. I felt so guilty, so small, so unworthy. Here I was, claiming to be a person of virtue by volunteering for the cause of nationalism and making a gesture of religious significance --- but I failed the test. Because it was inconvenient and my safety could have been jeopardized, I chose to turn a blind eye. Where it involved clear and present danger, I wasn't so virtuous after all.

This afternoon, coming from my Zen Meditation class, I drove past that very same street. In a split second, I vividly remembered the events of that night. And although I can't find a direct link between this sudden purging and this afternoon's Zen session, I'm glad that I found the heart to write about it now. I want to forgive myself for not being a hero that night. I want to comfort my guilty old self and tell her that it's okay and that perhaps, next time, I can find a more suitable situation to be more decisive in exercising integrity. And if anything, I can make up for the lost opportunity in other ways. 

There are memories we choose to hold on to, even if doing so will just make our baggage heavier than it should be. There are memories that we tried so hard to conceal but will find itself surfacing at the most inopportune time. So, there are memories that just have to be taken as a necessary evil, in order for something to be learned. There are memories of mistakes made that become correct decisions after all over time. There are memories that give us a fresh perspective on who we actually are, a window into the self we never knew we were. And then there are memories that are just meant to be forgiven, not forgotten, in order for one to carry on living in an endless cycle of pitfalls and recoveries. 

The month that was... January.

Song of the Moment: Grand Opening by Will Dailey

After writing my 2008 round-up, I quickly realized that I let certain months pass without much activity. Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed with myself. I mean, come on. I’m twenty-five. I’m young. I’m not yet married. I’m financially free. Now is the best time to do the many things I never thought I could do. 

Looking back at 2008, I sincerely wanted to boast of a specific achievement per month, to say that I didn’t put the twelve months to waste. The 2008 Round-up wasn’t at par with how I envisioned 2008 to be. Thus, I promised myself that I would consciously make each month more memorable --- more dynamic --- by forcing myself to list exceptional things done or experienced or participated in during the month. I’m not really sure how long this little experiment will last, but for now, I’m glad I lived up to my expectations for the month of January.   

1. Two new contracts for TAWI: La Farge and Asia Cargo Container Terminals. Shifting to a new product in TAWI really boosted our confidence in sales activities, but surprisingly, the contracts we closed for January were not for the new products. They were customized, as we have always intended to sell, and it was a blessing to have discovered these clients when we thought the industry was ailing. I’d like to credit part of it to luck, and it was just a matter of taking advantage of opportunities while they’re there.    
2. First EasyHomes Client: Acer Homes.  The management team rejoiced, opened a bottle of red wine and took posterity photos after the first contract for EasyHomes was signed. The company has been struggling with self-esteem issues and looooong sessions of product development; we’re not really sure how the market will react to the product. But at the end, the project went full swing and we’re finally at war.
3. Zen Meditation. I’ve been wanting to practice meditation since I took Jim Paredes’ creativity class. Back then, I felt the need to find an activity that will ground me and bring me back to my center amidst the hustle-bustle of life. At the start of the year, I did just that. I went out and finally took the Glimpse course. I wanted to do it for several reasons: to be more focused, to have peace of mind, to be more resilient and ultimately, to harness my lost creativity by allowing my mind to be more powerful. I’m eager to attend the next sessions (this February); I know this will help me get through the day to day.
4. First Batch General Assembly at Starbucks Silver City. It was nice to see familiar faces, and have the chance to get more feedback from people regarding the batch reunion. It was a rough start, but at least we’re getting somewhere. I can't wait for the reunion to come to fruition in its full awesome glory. 
5. Turned 25! Woah. My sensibilities plummeted to grave realizations --- I actually felt old that day. But no worries. I’d like to think that having turned 25 years is a good excuse.. erm, cue to be the best version of myself, now that I’m becoming more and more unbridled. I really feel like I’m at the best stage of my life. :)

I’m very happy with how January turned out. It was productive enough without having to sacrifice my need to socialize. I was able to achieve a good balance between work and play. Yay! 

Here’s to hoping more months like this will unfold.