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.

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.

The Table Napkin Wager

Song of the Moment: Mausam and Escape by A.R. Rahman (Slumdog Millionaire OST)

Some random evening in 2008, the girls were at Dome Cafe in Shangri-La, sipping coffee and tea and eating stale, free cake from Cravings. It could have been a typical get together, but something came to fruition that night.

It was the evening of the table napkin wager.

You know you're getting older when the topics you talk about over meals become more, well, mature. In our case, we noticed that our discussions gradually grew up from "which college will I get into?" to "I'm taking up BS Extracurriculars with a Minor in Management/Economics" to "what company should I work for?" and now, "who'll get married or get pregnant first?" And so began the humor behind the table napkin.

We took an unassuming sheet of Dome table napkin and scribbled down our speculations for the race to adulthood. It was simple. We each put our money on a person in the group who would most likely:

a) Get married first. (Excluding the one person who already got married in the US)

b) Get pregnant first.

We had every person sign off her stake and are now still awaiting results. The buy-in wasn't too big though, at PhP100 per person, but it was fun to actually gamble on something and pretend that the total pot was enough to finance that person's  bridal shower or baby shower. 

Since then, there have been playful banters of "My money's still on you!" as if PhP100 will amount to much these days. 

As the months passed and the table napkin remains unscarred in my wallet, more and more people from our circles got pregnant, got hitched, started a family. I can name so many high school batchmates whom I've discovered in shock as ladies who apparently have a higher propensity to settle down than any one of us in the barkada. They used to be the most rowdy ones, the most playful ones, the rather "tomboy-ish" ones, the wild children, and even the quiet ones. And now they're starting a family faster than I can say "I think I'm ready to take the next step." As it has been seen the past months, there isn't a clear winner among the contenders of the table napkin yet. (It's true, Rina! Hehehe.) And my lingering question is: "What makes one truly ready to move on?"

 

2009 is at hand. This same group of jocular (but secretly desperate!) girls decided to push each other to personal objectives of every kind, with the predominant goal "Have a love life this year." I feel lucky enough that I have one to begin with, and I'm truly overjoyed with what I have. But am I really ready to take that next step? Is it the right time? There are still some questions that I have yet to ask, and answer.  

I'm writing this as I near my 25th birthday. Imagine that. I've been walking this earth for 25 years. I've stopped calling it a quarter-life crisis, because it's a little over one fourth of my intended life already. But there are still introspective questions... there will always be questions. I may be beginning to imagine a more definite life, with definite long-term goals and a definite person holding my hand. But as far as I'm concerned, things can still change this year. 

For now, I think I'll sit back and watch one Facebook status after another change from single to engaged/married, wondering if I can muster enough guts to go beyond the lip service and actually take that plunge....