I love my life.

Song of the Moment: Orange Sky by Alexi Murdoch

Years from now, I am going to look back at this post and find strength in this moment.

I love my life. There is really no denying the simplicity of this truth.

I love myself, for all my limitations and countless capabilities. I love my family, for being bits and pieces of who I turned out to be. I love Enzo for being my reason for being, my confidante, my protector and my forever. I love my friends, for being my source of laughter, motivation and perspective. I love my work that challenges me and pushes me to have a vision for the future, and of course, without which I can not sustain a comfortable lifestyle. I love my body, and how it makes me feel beautiful. I love my country, from which I draw my own individual quirks from its collective history and culture.

I love my silence. I love my humanity. I love who I am and everything else that surrounds who I am. And most of all, I love my God for giving me what I denied for the longest time as something I deserved.

The Second Quarter

Song of the Moment: Signs by Bloc Party

Last night, I was chatting with a friend and I caught myself saying these words:

"you're turning 25.. don't you remember what we thought of 25-year-old people before when we were younger? we're supposed to be more independent than we allow ourselves to be. that's why i want to move out too, even if it's a bit impractical.. i think it's going to make me a better person, and that's more important to me."

That was 12:28AM. It's 8:34AM right now. And I'm staring at the screen, wondering what alien form took over my body last night. Hehehe. :)

But seriously, there's something different in the air now. And I like it. :)

Zazen

Song of the Moment: Silence

They say you shouldn’t read or write about Zen lest you fall into the trap of grasping it intellectually and superficially. I will write for writing’s sake.

I attended my 8th and last orientation Sunday for Zen. There were no bells and whistles. Nothing dramatically different happened. There were no exaltations or festivities. There was only silence.

I decided to get into Zen because I wanted the following:

1. I wanted to be more focused.
2. I wanted to remain grounded and not get lost in the hustle-bustle of life.
3. I wanted to bring out the true creativity that can only come from unadulterated humanity.
   

But after several weeks of practising Zen, I learned that not much has changed. I still get easily distracted in life. I still find myself stuck outside the creative process. I still get tired at the end of the day, tirelessly forcing sleep to an active mind. I still get angry, but with greater intensity. I still cry, but with less logic. I still feel. And maybe that’s all there is to it.

It’s not supposed to make sense, because I’m only at the start of something. I’m not supposed to have all the answers because I still have a restless heart. And maybe only death can bring forth the Truth that I seek. For now, it’s the process that matters. And so I will sit some more.

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.