10 Feb 2013
Dear one,
If you're a handsome, hot guy from southern France named Guillermo, then ours is a story that's definitely one for the books.
I met you last night (technically, early this morning) at China One in Clark Quay. We danced to a couple of songs. You gave me your number. I sent you a text message this morning. We hit it off and the rest is history.
The day I marry a handsome, hot guy - that would really be historical. Come on, let's face the fact: I may not be the ugliest person in the planet but I'm no beauty queen. It would probably be a one-out-of-a-million chance that I can marry a Prince Charming.
Well, I'm not really wishing for a handsome husband. And it's not out of bitterness or sourgraping that I say that. My husband's looks are the least of my concerns. You can ask Circe; she'll have a fine time telling you how she can't comprehend why I fell for that last guy who can't boast about anything in the looks department.
If that little folly with the southern France guy proved anything, it was that it didn't take make-up, high heels or mini skirt to attract someone. And I didn't even have to drink a single alcoholic beverage to keep a conversation going.
But that Guillermo, he must have been really drunk. I mean, what in the world was he thinking when he approached me?!? Me?!? Seriously?! LOL.
Anyway, the best compliment I got last night was not that of a hot guy approaching me to dance with him. It was that of my friend Ben telling me that I had a different aura - that I didn't look or sound bitter anymore. Somewhere along the way, I don't know when or where, I must have dropped the bitter attitude. And truly, I don't know why, this Valentine's day season, I'm still as lovelife-less as always but I'm not feeling bitter about anything or anybody. Maybe, that was the reason - it's probably because of the fact that I'm not feeling anything for anybody at this time.
Bitter or not, though, I still wish for peach roses.
Sunday, 10 February 2013
Sunday, 3 February 2013
On meeting you
Dear one,
At this time in my life, I guess I'm at that point where I'm as scared of meeting you as I'm scared of not meeting you.
Of course, I'm scared of not meeting you before all the time of the proverbial biological clock run out. Since I would want for us to have kids of our own (I want it so much that I have even prepared names for our kids already.), it scares me if I should not be able to meet the deadline.
On the other hand, I realized that I'm also scared of actually meeting you. I know I've said before that anytime I meet you, the right one, I'm willing to stop everything that I'm busy with these days and start building the family we want to have. No, I haven't changed my mind about that. I will still do that. It's just that... It is scary.
The prospect of so many changes happening all at once in my life scares the hell out of me. I'm so used to working things out solo - solving my problems on my own, and sometimes, even singlehandedly solving other people's problems for them. I get things done.Why, I even take care of my self when I'm sick. I like being with and around friends but I'm just as comfortable being by myself. In fact, I value my me-time so much so that I can't do without it.
When you come into my life, please don't ask me to give up my me-time. I would still want to be able to sit at Starbucks engrossed on a good book or stay up late at night, writing in my blog. I'm not asking for much - just a few hours on a Saturday or Sunday every now and then. While we still haven't got kids, I hope we can take gym classes together or jog around the neighborhood. Then when the kids are old enough, I hope we would be earning enough to take them with us on out-of-town or out-of-the-country trips.
Above and beyond these trivial things, I hope you'll continue to value what I have to say on all matters, most especially on matters that concern our family. If you are the one, dear one, I'd like to believe that between the two of us, you'll be the one with the better judgment. But while I would like to submit to your better judgment, I wouldn't want to lose my voice and will to decide on the important matters and everything related to us and the kids will always be important.
At this time in my life, I guess I'm at that point where I'm as scared of meeting you as I'm scared of not meeting you.
Of course, I'm scared of not meeting you before all the time of the proverbial biological clock run out. Since I would want for us to have kids of our own (I want it so much that I have even prepared names for our kids already.), it scares me if I should not be able to meet the deadline.
On the other hand, I realized that I'm also scared of actually meeting you. I know I've said before that anytime I meet you, the right one, I'm willing to stop everything that I'm busy with these days and start building the family we want to have. No, I haven't changed my mind about that. I will still do that. It's just that... It is scary.
The prospect of so many changes happening all at once in my life scares the hell out of me. I'm so used to working things out solo - solving my problems on my own, and sometimes, even singlehandedly solving other people's problems for them. I get things done.Why, I even take care of my self when I'm sick. I like being with and around friends but I'm just as comfortable being by myself. In fact, I value my me-time so much so that I can't do without it.
When you come into my life, please don't ask me to give up my me-time. I would still want to be able to sit at Starbucks engrossed on a good book or stay up late at night, writing in my blog. I'm not asking for much - just a few hours on a Saturday or Sunday every now and then. While we still haven't got kids, I hope we can take gym classes together or jog around the neighborhood. Then when the kids are old enough, I hope we would be earning enough to take them with us on out-of-town or out-of-the-country trips.
Above and beyond these trivial things, I hope you'll continue to value what I have to say on all matters, most especially on matters that concern our family. If you are the one, dear one, I'd like to believe that between the two of us, you'll be the one with the better judgment. But while I would like to submit to your better judgment, I wouldn't want to lose my voice and will to decide on the important matters and everything related to us and the kids will always be important.
Wednesday, 9 January 2013
God's time
09 Jan 2013
Dear one,
How long is God's time?
Ninety-nine days, x sad mornings, y failed interviews and one heartbreaking rejection.
In September 2012, while the SFC community was happily anticipating two wonderful events - Ate Dory and Kuya Bart's wedding and Blessed National Conference - I lost my job, not by choice nor by neglect but due to a company redundancy exercise.
The phenomenon of job loss is really nothing new; it happens and it has happened to a lot of people I know. It has never happened to me, though. I didn't have a manual for handling this situation. I wasn't ready.
Yet, in many ways, God had actually prepared me for what lay ahead. In 2011, my application for a personalized employment pass (PEP) had been approved; that meant I had six months (instead of just 30 days) to look for a new job. I had enough savings in the bank to support my living expenses for a considerable period of time. I had vowed to myself that I'd keep the tears at bay until the fifth month was over. After all, of what use are tears? I had time in my hands, I am mature, I am strong - I repeated these to myself like some sort of mantra.
The best preparation that God did, however, had nothing to do with my material needs. He had laid the ground for me to grow my relationships in this community. Aside from the love of my family, it was, in fact, these relationships that had supported me through that storm.
For no matter how strong I believed my self to be, inevitably, there were mornings I woke up finding no purpose to get out of bed. There were interviews that didn't go well and left me feeling inadequate. There was one final interview that went very well but then turned out to be another heartbreaking rejection. During those times of disappointment and self-doubt, it was my prayer warriors in the community who took over. To use the metaphor that Brother Gilbert Hamera himself had used in his sharing last January 2012, my prayer warriors were like the men in the gospel of Mark who did everything in their capacity to be able to carry the paralytic to Jesus. I was that paralytic.
Honestly, I have no idea how many other people in SFC had prayed for me apart from my household, my unit, the East Music Ministry, NOIDs, Mel, Bell and Apaule. I just know I have many earth angels who had knocked on, some may have even banged on, heaven's door for my sake.
I lost my job on September 3. I had a final interview on December 3, got a verbal job offer on December 6 and signed the appointment letter on December 10, five days before the Simbang Gabi even started. A turnaround of 99 days - that was how fast the prayers for me were answered. That was God's time.
In my blog entry last September 15, 12 days after I had lost my job, I had claimed that that all-time low point was my turn for God to work His miracle in my life. Indeed, it IS my turn this time and how generously the Lord has provided for me!
For all of these and all the other blessings that year 2012 has brought me and everyone dear to me, may our faithful God be praised.
Dear one,
How long is God's time?
Ninety-nine days, x sad mornings, y failed interviews and one heartbreaking rejection.
In September 2012, while the SFC community was happily anticipating two wonderful events - Ate Dory and Kuya Bart's wedding and Blessed National Conference - I lost my job, not by choice nor by neglect but due to a company redundancy exercise.
The phenomenon of job loss is really nothing new; it happens and it has happened to a lot of people I know. It has never happened to me, though. I didn't have a manual for handling this situation. I wasn't ready.
Yet, in many ways, God had actually prepared me for what lay ahead. In 2011, my application for a personalized employment pass (PEP) had been approved; that meant I had six months (instead of just 30 days) to look for a new job. I had enough savings in the bank to support my living expenses for a considerable period of time. I had vowed to myself that I'd keep the tears at bay until the fifth month was over. After all, of what use are tears? I had time in my hands, I am mature, I am strong - I repeated these to myself like some sort of mantra.
The best preparation that God did, however, had nothing to do with my material needs. He had laid the ground for me to grow my relationships in this community. Aside from the love of my family, it was, in fact, these relationships that had supported me through that storm.
For no matter how strong I believed my self to be, inevitably, there were mornings I woke up finding no purpose to get out of bed. There were interviews that didn't go well and left me feeling inadequate. There was one final interview that went very well but then turned out to be another heartbreaking rejection. During those times of disappointment and self-doubt, it was my prayer warriors in the community who took over. To use the metaphor that Brother Gilbert Hamera himself had used in his sharing last January 2012, my prayer warriors were like the men in the gospel of Mark who did everything in their capacity to be able to carry the paralytic to Jesus. I was that paralytic.
Honestly, I have no idea how many other people in SFC had prayed for me apart from my household, my unit, the East Music Ministry, NOIDs, Mel, Bell and Apaule. I just know I have many earth angels who had knocked on, some may have even banged on, heaven's door for my sake.
I lost my job on September 3. I had a final interview on December 3, got a verbal job offer on December 6 and signed the appointment letter on December 10, five days before the Simbang Gabi even started. A turnaround of 99 days - that was how fast the prayers for me were answered. That was God's time.
In my blog entry last September 15, 12 days after I had lost my job, I had claimed that that all-time low point was my turn for God to work His miracle in my life. Indeed, it IS my turn this time and how generously the Lord has provided for me!
For all of these and all the other blessings that year 2012 has brought me and everyone dear to me, may our faithful God be praised.
Tuesday, 1 January 2013
And just like that 2012 is over.
01 Jan 2013
New Year countdown with the NOIDs and Cha. Second trip to Western Australia and Victoria. First trip to New South Wales. MOLE 3. Valentine dinner with Cha and friends. Singapore Air Show with Richard, Jayson, Tina and Bernard. Leap year dinner with Team Ganda and Hazel. My first baked goodies: vanilla cupcakes with milk chocolate frosting. Ho Chi Minh adventure with Circe, Amor and Liz. Team Ganda despedida for Apple. Runner, entertainer, parlor games host at Memai's first birthday. "A Thousand Years", "Runaway" at Romar & Adeth's wedding. "Chorus Line" with Circe and her nanay and Amor. "From this Moment" and cord sponsor at Faebs & Daisie's wedding. Mothers' Day in Pinas with Mudra and the rest of the family. Psalmist at the Covenant Orientation. Missed Jho's wedding and Cebu-Bohol trip with the parents. Cupcake party with the NOIDs, Apaule and Lizlie. Mother's bone fracture. Cancelled parents' trip to Singapore. "Annie" with Circe, Amor, Liz and Ian. Team Ganda welcomes Eda and Maren. Birthday trip with Circe, Amor, Jo and Afta: Paris, Vienna, Salzburg, Rome and Vatican. Eiffel Tower, real snow, the Pope - up close. Birthday cakes, gifts and surprises. Team Ganda despedida for Gelai. Harry Potter exhibit with Ian. Lost job. "Panunumpa", "Beginning Today" and veil sponsor at Kuya Bart & Ate Dory's wedding. "Phantom of the Opera" with Lizlie. Psalmist at BLESSED National Conference. Visita Iglesia in Singapore. "Avenue Q" with Lizlie, Ian and Alvin. Marian Pilgrimage around Singapore. Second trip to New South Wales. Bondi and Manly beaches and the Three Sisters - checked. Family time with the Baellos and Salandanans. Fruits offerer at Jojo & Jane's wedding. Christmas-ing in November with family in Pinas. MOLE 4. "Jersey Boys" with Lizlie, Ate Danith and Ate Grace. New job. SFC Thanksgiving. Simbang Gabi. Psalmist for the fifth night. First Christmas away from Pinas. New Year's eve with Circe and her nanay, Amor, An, Nesty, Jelai and Philip.
Innumerable lunch-outs, dinners, movie nights, coffee catch-ups, birthdays, parties, drinking sessions, gym classes, household meetings, service team meetings, prayer assemblies, teachings, conferences, practices, 1:1s, baking lessons and fellowships.
Liz, Faye, Maren, Eda, Gelai, Apple. Ate Dory, Ate Danith, En. Lizlie, An, Jane, Rhea, Ate Grace. Mel, Bell. Apaule and Ge. Gela and Erick. Anne, Lalai, Pau, Gil, Kathy, Daisy, Owen, JM, Edmond, Mai, Carlos, Chi-chi, Reggie, Romila, Rommel, Tin, Jomai, Kuya Bart, Velmore. Tita Marge. MM. NOIDs. SFC. Ben, Alvin, Mike, Jyue, Daisie, Karon, Ish, Alex, Malvin, Ian, Yome, Rob. Ate Jess and Richard. Amor and the Widmayers. Circe, Cha, Grace, Baja, Alan, Alan, Richard, Jayson, Bernard, Jong. Ate Brenda, Tita War, Kuya Mike, Ate May, Kuya Jhoy, Yzl and Kty. Inay, Tatay, Kid, Steph, Memai and Tia Din.
Nineteen books. Seven movies. A few dozen cupcakes.
And just like that 2012 is over.
As for you, dear one, you're on my wishlist for 2013. =)
Happy New Year!
New Year countdown with the NOIDs and Cha. Second trip to Western Australia and Victoria. First trip to New South Wales. MOLE 3. Valentine dinner with Cha and friends. Singapore Air Show with Richard, Jayson, Tina and Bernard. Leap year dinner with Team Ganda and Hazel. My first baked goodies: vanilla cupcakes with milk chocolate frosting. Ho Chi Minh adventure with Circe, Amor and Liz. Team Ganda despedida for Apple. Runner, entertainer, parlor games host at Memai's first birthday. "A Thousand Years", "Runaway" at Romar & Adeth's wedding. "Chorus Line" with Circe and her nanay and Amor. "From this Moment" and cord sponsor at Faebs & Daisie's wedding. Mothers' Day in Pinas with Mudra and the rest of the family. Psalmist at the Covenant Orientation. Missed Jho's wedding and Cebu-Bohol trip with the parents. Cupcake party with the NOIDs, Apaule and Lizlie. Mother's bone fracture. Cancelled parents' trip to Singapore. "Annie" with Circe, Amor, Liz and Ian. Team Ganda welcomes Eda and Maren. Birthday trip with Circe, Amor, Jo and Afta: Paris, Vienna, Salzburg, Rome and Vatican. Eiffel Tower, real snow, the Pope - up close. Birthday cakes, gifts and surprises. Team Ganda despedida for Gelai. Harry Potter exhibit with Ian. Lost job. "Panunumpa", "Beginning Today" and veil sponsor at Kuya Bart & Ate Dory's wedding. "Phantom of the Opera" with Lizlie. Psalmist at BLESSED National Conference. Visita Iglesia in Singapore. "Avenue Q" with Lizlie, Ian and Alvin. Marian Pilgrimage around Singapore. Second trip to New South Wales. Bondi and Manly beaches and the Three Sisters - checked. Family time with the Baellos and Salandanans. Fruits offerer at Jojo & Jane's wedding. Christmas-ing in November with family in Pinas. MOLE 4. "Jersey Boys" with Lizlie, Ate Danith and Ate Grace. New job. SFC Thanksgiving. Simbang Gabi. Psalmist for the fifth night. First Christmas away from Pinas. New Year's eve with Circe and her nanay, Amor, An, Nesty, Jelai and Philip.
Liz, Faye, Maren, Eda, Gelai, Apple. Ate Dory, Ate Danith, En. Lizlie, An, Jane, Rhea, Ate Grace. Mel, Bell. Apaule and Ge. Gela and Erick. Anne, Lalai, Pau, Gil, Kathy, Daisy, Owen, JM, Edmond, Mai, Carlos, Chi-chi, Reggie, Romila, Rommel, Tin, Jomai, Kuya Bart, Velmore. Tita Marge. MM. NOIDs. SFC. Ben, Alvin, Mike, Jyue, Daisie, Karon, Ish, Alex, Malvin, Ian, Yome, Rob. Ate Jess and Richard. Amor and the Widmayers. Circe, Cha, Grace, Baja, Alan, Alan, Richard, Jayson, Bernard, Jong. Ate Brenda, Tita War, Kuya Mike, Ate May, Kuya Jhoy, Yzl and Kty. Inay, Tatay, Kid, Steph, Memai and Tia Din.
Nineteen books. Seven movies. A few dozen cupcakes.
And just like that 2012 is over.
As for you, dear one, you're on my wishlist for 2013. =)
Happy New Year!
Monday, 12 November 2012
Second chances
12 November 2012
Dear one,
I don't like Sydney - I swear to God I don't. The dirty old trains at the Central station, the hustle and bustle of so many people on the rush; no, I didn't like any of that. What glimpse I had of the Darling Harbour - even that I didn't find charming at all. Only the Sydney Opera House managed to impress me and the warmth of family I had met for the first time.
So I vowed I'd come back to Sydney and give it a second chance. Albeit the limited budget, come back I did. And coming back was a decision I'd never regret.
The Central Station
Old and dirty. There just seems to be no other way to describe the trains in New South Wales (NSW). Certainly, they are, if one compares them to the almost immaculate trains of Singapore. And when one steps into the Central Station, one will surely think it the center of old (It is indeed old; it's more than a hundred years old.).
But there is, in fact, another word to describe Central - romantic. That, I witnessed when I saw this other side of the station.
I don't know if it was the stone walls, the stained glass windows, the bronze overhead timepiece or the combination of all three that had me enthralled of this train station.
No train station in Singapore comes close to the bustle that is Central; not even Dhoby Ghaut's busy interchange of the North-South, North-East and Circle train lines. The Central station has more than 20 train platforms, interconnecting suburb, city and intercity trains. I wonder if the people who have lived their entire lives in NSW could have memorized every existing train line there is or, for that matter, could have memorized the station names in every train line.
A discovery I made was that when one steps out of the station from the Devonshire Cemetery exit, there is a line of stone bust figures of heroes, mostly from Latin America, facing the street. One of the bust figures belonged to our very own national hero, Jose Rizal. Imagine my delight at finding something (or someone) so familiar in unfamiliar territories. (My cousin who has lived in NSW for 12 years didn't even know about this until that day I told her. Haha.)
Breathtaking. Always.
I spent the second day of my trip on a self-guided walking tour of the city. Right before I got off the train at Circular Quay station, I caught a sweeping view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the iconic Sydney Opera House. What a way to start the day!
The sight of the bridge and the Opera House was just breathtaking. Why, just that view could make me fall in love with this place. But I refused to relent to Sydney's charms.
So I went on with my walk under the sweltering heat, from the Royal Botanic Gardens to the Government House grounds. Then I went off in search of Mrs. Macquarie's Chair which was supposed to have the best view of the bridge and the Opera House. And yes, it did not disappoint; for the second time in this trip, the sight of the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House took my breath away.
You'd have thought I'd have grown tired of that view after seeing it twice. No. Indeed, three's the charm. By that time, I saw the same breathtaking view at Milsons Point, I knew I was taken. Irrevocably. Without a doubt.
Unveiled
On my first trip to New South Wales last January, I had tried (and failed miserably) to see the famous Three Sisters which, according to aboriginal legends, used to be three daughters who had been turned to stone by their father in order to protect them from the Bunyip. January was the middle of summer in Australia but it was raining that day and hence, the Blue Mountains vicinity was covered in fog, fog and more fog.
This time, though, on a wonderful spring day, with hardly a cloud in the sky, the Three Sisters could not hide anywhere - their magnificence unveiled for everyone to witness. You didn't need to be an artist to appreciate this overwhelming sight. You'd only need a grateful heart to see that this is another one of Mother Nature's poetic masterpieces.
Some hundred steps or so down the man-made staircase at the side of the mountains and I came this close to one of the Three Sisters that I could (almost) kiss it and hug it!
If last January's Blue Mountains trip theme song was Gene Kelly's "Singing in the Rain", this November, it could only be the Carpenters' "Top of the World".
Such a feeling's coming over me;
"Finding God in all things"
Last month, I had been doing a Visita Iglesia of sorts, visiting the churches in Singapore that I have never been to. Save for one, I have already visited all the churches in the city I've called home for the last three years. This Visita Iglesia was one of the things I had promised the Lord I would do. I didn't really make a deal with Him about what I was asking for (Well, He is God so He already knows anyway.). I did it mostly because I wanted to feel a sense of accomplishment, something that's not exactly easy to come by when one is in between jobs.
I did not, however, expect I'd be doing a mini-version of a Visita Iglesia in this trip. Apart from St. Mary's Cathedral which was one of the mainstream tourist destinations, I had only planned to visit Mary Mackillop Chapel and Museum which was a ten-minute walk from North Sydney station. But I suppose it was Divine Intervention that led me to St. Francis Xavier Church which was also near North Sydney. I spent my lunch hour attending the noon mass there.
The following day, I found St. Mary Immaculate Church, a little church located in a quiet corner of Manly not too frequented by tourists. Finally, my last Sunday in NSW found me at the Church of St. Bernadette, attending mass with Tita War, Ate Brenda and Kuya Mike.
Four churches and one chapel - not bad for a nine-day trip.
One thought struck me: "to find God in all things", the primary tenet of Ignatian spirituality. Yes, God is present in every blessing that I receive each day but I think He becomes even more present to me in my travels.
I can never claim to have travelled as a pilgrim in the very sense of the word. I don't travel in style but I prefer to travel in what humble comforts that I can afford. Even then I find God manifested in the warm hotel bed, the delicious local food fare, the safe flights and commutes. In the unique, the iconic, the historical, the romantic and the beautiful sights.
This trip was no different. I found Him in the nostalgia of the antique Central station, the perfect blue of the sea at Manly and Bondi beaches, the apparent elusiveness of the Three Sisters. I found Him, above all, in the generosity of the family who did not just provide me with a bed to sleep on at night and an almost inexhaustible supply of food to nourish me everyday but also made me feel like I was home. I am so grateful for the daily breakfast, baon and dinner that Tita War prepares; I must have gained a few pounds from all that delicious food. I sincerely thank Ate Brenda and Kuya Mike for driving me to the train station everyday - certainly, such a lovely convenience over riding a bus - and of course, for the lunch, dinner and movie treats, for the gym session, for touring me around NSW - to Bondi Beach, Taronga Zoo and Three Sisters. And I also thank Kuya Jhoy, Ate May and their beautiful girls, Yzl and Kty, for welcoming me into their home as well.
"It's more fun in the Philippines," so the slogan says. I say, "It's just as fun in Australia, mate!"
And it feels as much at home here.
Dear one,
I don't like Sydney - I swear to God I don't. The dirty old trains at the Central station, the hustle and bustle of so many people on the rush; no, I didn't like any of that. What glimpse I had of the Darling Harbour - even that I didn't find charming at all. Only the Sydney Opera House managed to impress me and the warmth of family I had met for the first time.
So I vowed I'd come back to Sydney and give it a second chance. Albeit the limited budget, come back I did. And coming back was a decision I'd never regret.
The Central Station
Old and dirty. There just seems to be no other way to describe the trains in New South Wales (NSW). Certainly, they are, if one compares them to the almost immaculate trains of Singapore. And when one steps into the Central Station, one will surely think it the center of old (It is indeed old; it's more than a hundred years old.).
But there is, in fact, another word to describe Central - romantic. That, I witnessed when I saw this other side of the station.
I don't know if it was the stone walls, the stained glass windows, the bronze overhead timepiece or the combination of all three that had me enthralled of this train station.
No train station in Singapore comes close to the bustle that is Central; not even Dhoby Ghaut's busy interchange of the North-South, North-East and Circle train lines. The Central station has more than 20 train platforms, interconnecting suburb, city and intercity trains. I wonder if the people who have lived their entire lives in NSW could have memorized every existing train line there is or, for that matter, could have memorized the station names in every train line.A discovery I made was that when one steps out of the station from the Devonshire Cemetery exit, there is a line of stone bust figures of heroes, mostly from Latin America, facing the street. One of the bust figures belonged to our very own national hero, Jose Rizal. Imagine my delight at finding something (or someone) so familiar in unfamiliar territories. (My cousin who has lived in NSW for 12 years didn't even know about this until that day I told her. Haha.)
Breathtaking. Always.
I spent the second day of my trip on a self-guided walking tour of the city. Right before I got off the train at Circular Quay station, I caught a sweeping view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the iconic Sydney Opera House. What a way to start the day!
The sight of the bridge and the Opera House was just breathtaking. Why, just that view could make me fall in love with this place. But I refused to relent to Sydney's charms.
So I went on with my walk under the sweltering heat, from the Royal Botanic Gardens to the Government House grounds. Then I went off in search of Mrs. Macquarie's Chair which was supposed to have the best view of the bridge and the Opera House. And yes, it did not disappoint; for the second time in this trip, the sight of the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House took my breath away.
You'd have thought I'd have grown tired of that view after seeing it twice. No. Indeed, three's the charm. By that time, I saw the same breathtaking view at Milsons Point, I knew I was taken. Irrevocably. Without a doubt.
Unveiled
This time, though, on a wonderful spring day, with hardly a cloud in the sky, the Three Sisters could not hide anywhere - their magnificence unveiled for everyone to witness. You didn't need to be an artist to appreciate this overwhelming sight. You'd only need a grateful heart to see that this is another one of Mother Nature's poetic masterpieces.
Some hundred steps or so down the man-made staircase at the side of the mountains and I came this close to one of the Three Sisters that I could (almost) kiss it and hug it!
If last January's Blue Mountains trip theme song was Gene Kelly's "Singing in the Rain", this November, it could only be the Carpenters' "Top of the World".
Such a feeling's coming over me;
There is wonder in 'most anything I see.
Not a cloud in the sky, got the sun in my eyes.
And I won't be surprised if it's a dream.
"Finding God in all things"
Last month, I had been doing a Visita Iglesia of sorts, visiting the churches in Singapore that I have never been to. Save for one, I have already visited all the churches in the city I've called home for the last three years. This Visita Iglesia was one of the things I had promised the Lord I would do. I didn't really make a deal with Him about what I was asking for (Well, He is God so He already knows anyway.). I did it mostly because I wanted to feel a sense of accomplishment, something that's not exactly easy to come by when one is in between jobs.
I did not, however, expect I'd be doing a mini-version of a Visita Iglesia in this trip. Apart from St. Mary's Cathedral which was one of the mainstream tourist destinations, I had only planned to visit Mary Mackillop Chapel and Museum which was a ten-minute walk from North Sydney station. But I suppose it was Divine Intervention that led me to St. Francis Xavier Church which was also near North Sydney. I spent my lunch hour attending the noon mass there.
The following day, I found St. Mary Immaculate Church, a little church located in a quiet corner of Manly not too frequented by tourists. Finally, my last Sunday in NSW found me at the Church of St. Bernadette, attending mass with Tita War, Ate Brenda and Kuya Mike.
Four churches and one chapel - not bad for a nine-day trip.
One thought struck me: "to find God in all things", the primary tenet of Ignatian spirituality. Yes, God is present in every blessing that I receive each day but I think He becomes even more present to me in my travels.
I can never claim to have travelled as a pilgrim in the very sense of the word. I don't travel in style but I prefer to travel in what humble comforts that I can afford. Even then I find God manifested in the warm hotel bed, the delicious local food fare, the safe flights and commutes. In the unique, the iconic, the historical, the romantic and the beautiful sights.
"It's more fun in the Philippines," so the slogan says. I say, "It's just as fun in Australia, mate!"
And it feels as much at home here.
Saturday, 15 September 2012
When God has not yet opened a window
15 Sep 2012
Dear one,
Twelve days ago, I lost everything.
Well, not really everything but most of it, anyway.
I lost my job.
It's not like my job was everything to me. It's just that it provided for almost everything that I need. Sure, I had savings in the bank and I could get by; but for how long would I need to live on my savings? How long would the savings last? Sure, I can find another job; but when would I be able to find one? There are just too many uncertainties, too many things that I couldn't plan for and too many things that I planned for and will now have to take a backseat. It's like being given a project deadline for which I hardly had control over the other factors affecting the project. Six months, that's all I have; or else, I would have to leave this country. If you're a control freak like I am, you would know that this situation of helplessness is nothing but horror of the worst kind.
That fateful September day, though, I had vowed not to cry about the matter;. anyway, six months was a long time, I said to myself. But I couldn't straightaway call home because that same afternoon, Inay will be undergoing her shockwave treatment. Who to tell my story to, then. Usually, Ate Dory would get the fresh account of the worst of my troubles but she was getting married in five days. I thought I'd tell Bell and Mel and ask them for prayers but they were busy in the wedding choir practices. I thought I'd tell Ge and Apaule when we had dinner but there was the wedding reception song that we had to practice that evening. I just didn't think it was appropriate to interrupt the happiness that came with the anticipation of the upcoming wedding.
So I called my younger brother, shared what happened and told him I was thinking of rebooking to an earlier flight (for Ate Dory's wedding) since I didn't have anything to do the rest of the week anyway. It took almost all my resolve not to cry when he said point-blank, "Sa halip na magsayang ka ng oras sa pagrebook ng flight, maghanap ka na ng trabaho. Gastos pa yan (referring to the rebooking charge)." My brother had never really been the most sensitive person in the planet but I trust his logic in most cases. I forgot about crying, dropped the whole idea of rebooking and concentrated on updating my profile at Monster.com.sg.
Still, I felt I should tell someone in the SFC community too. My household, maybe? But I remembered Ate Dory's words which went something like we, household heads, should not be breaking down uncontrollably before our HH members because our members draw strength from us. At that very moment, I'm not exactly sure that I could hold my composure while I share the unfortunate news to my girls. So I decided against breaking the news to them.
I could have told my sisters in the unit. But everyone was happily preoccupied with the wedding too. So I sent a text message to En. In reply, she asked me how I felt about it. It took 15 minutes of staring into the ceiling of my bedroom before I found a word to describe my feelings. Lost - that was the word. I realized I was thrust into a situation for which there was neither manual nor documentation provided. I've never lost my job. I did not even choose to lose this job. How does one deal with this?
And as I was struggling with the answer to that question, along came the Twitter trending topic for the SFC National Conference (NatCon) - #BLESSED2012. My Twitter feed was flooded with tweets about blessings and answered prayers. I wanted to ignore the whole feed and not participate in any of it. But Lalai asked me to join in and use the hashtag too.
I lost my job. What else could qualify under #BLESSED2012?
Europe trip on my birthday. I had that.
Family. My household and my unit in SFC. I still have them.
Before the unfortunate turn of events, I had already said yes to serving in the Music Ministry (MM) for the NatCon. Heck, I've lost my job; don't I deserve a reprieve from the pressure of having to study and practice new songs, I thought. But, a blessing or perhaps a curse it maybe, I've never been someone who could just back out on commitments. So I continued coming for the evening practices. Jobless, I found comfort in the singing and the laughter that always accompanied every MM practice.
Still the prospect of actually attending the NatCon loomed ahead. It just didn't fit into the dreary picture.
The day I called home to tell them about my predicament, Inay cried all the tears I didn't want to shed myself. She wanted me to just go back home. I reassured her I had savings to use and that I only needed two things from them: that they constantly pray for me to get a new job soon and that they keep themselves healthy so that we wouldn't have to worry about additional medical expenses. It was only last weekend when I came to know, from Tatay, that Inay didn't eat a single meal that day.
When the family went out, my mother insisted on paying for our dinner and my aunt insisted on paying for the movie tickets. My parents had never required me to send over a monthly allowance but family dine-outs, movies and trips have always been paid for by me. That they weren't letting me do these things for them anymore made me feel worse. I wouldn't mind so much if they weren't hard-up themselves. However, I know very well that their retirement pension is the only source of income for my parents and my aunt and both my mother and my aunt are taking expensive maintenance medications. I wish God would give me a job soon, if not for my sake then for my family's peace of mind.
Fast forward to the NatCon weekend. East MM was in-charge of providing the music for the first day of the conference and I was assigned to sing the responsorial psalm at the mass. Regardless of how I'm feeling, the show must go on.
True to the tradition of SFC conferences, the NatCon was filled with powerful talks and moving sharings. I didn't know Tita Miyen personally but her talk and sharing seemed to have been written especially for me. She shared how she had been feeling downhearted that she had not yet found a job and how she had fought an internal battle with the evil one who was taunting her, "How can you still be standing there, proclaiming about your God?" Why, that was exactly the same struggle I had while I was singing the praise and worship (P&W) songs throughout the conference! How can I still be singing about how great my God is when I've lost my job? Oh, the tears I cried during P&Ws and sharings of the two-day conference - boy, was that exhausting!
In any case, I did not regret going to the NatCon. That feeling of being drained and refreshed at the same time - that was what that weekend brought to me. They say that when God closes a door, He opens a window. As I am writing this, God has not opened the window yet. However, I realized that He did not leave me empty-handed; He has left me with this community - with my household, with my unit, with the Music Ministry. That day, as I joined the rest of the community in the final worship song, I resolved that, while waiting for God to open the window, I will dedicate my time to what He has left me with.
I've always prayed for faith and patience. Now, God has given me this big opportunity to grow in faith and learn patience. I've realized that faith means giving God the chance to be God.
Sharings have always been my favorite part of prayer assemblies. It is inspiring to hear about how God had worked miracles for other people and had given them even more than what they had prayed for. Well, Lord, it's my turn now.
Dear one,
Twelve days ago, I lost everything.
Well, not really everything but most of it, anyway.
I lost my job.
It's not like my job was everything to me. It's just that it provided for almost everything that I need. Sure, I had savings in the bank and I could get by; but for how long would I need to live on my savings? How long would the savings last? Sure, I can find another job; but when would I be able to find one? There are just too many uncertainties, too many things that I couldn't plan for and too many things that I planned for and will now have to take a backseat. It's like being given a project deadline for which I hardly had control over the other factors affecting the project. Six months, that's all I have; or else, I would have to leave this country. If you're a control freak like I am, you would know that this situation of helplessness is nothing but horror of the worst kind.
That fateful September day, though, I had vowed not to cry about the matter;. anyway, six months was a long time, I said to myself. But I couldn't straightaway call home because that same afternoon, Inay will be undergoing her shockwave treatment. Who to tell my story to, then. Usually, Ate Dory would get the fresh account of the worst of my troubles but she was getting married in five days. I thought I'd tell Bell and Mel and ask them for prayers but they were busy in the wedding choir practices. I thought I'd tell Ge and Apaule when we had dinner but there was the wedding reception song that we had to practice that evening. I just didn't think it was appropriate to interrupt the happiness that came with the anticipation of the upcoming wedding.
So I called my younger brother, shared what happened and told him I was thinking of rebooking to an earlier flight (for Ate Dory's wedding) since I didn't have anything to do the rest of the week anyway. It took almost all my resolve not to cry when he said point-blank, "Sa halip na magsayang ka ng oras sa pagrebook ng flight, maghanap ka na ng trabaho. Gastos pa yan (referring to the rebooking charge)." My brother had never really been the most sensitive person in the planet but I trust his logic in most cases. I forgot about crying, dropped the whole idea of rebooking and concentrated on updating my profile at Monster.com.sg.
Still, I felt I should tell someone in the SFC community too. My household, maybe? But I remembered Ate Dory's words which went something like we, household heads, should not be breaking down uncontrollably before our HH members because our members draw strength from us. At that very moment, I'm not exactly sure that I could hold my composure while I share the unfortunate news to my girls. So I decided against breaking the news to them.
I could have told my sisters in the unit. But everyone was happily preoccupied with the wedding too. So I sent a text message to En. In reply, she asked me how I felt about it. It took 15 minutes of staring into the ceiling of my bedroom before I found a word to describe my feelings. Lost - that was the word. I realized I was thrust into a situation for which there was neither manual nor documentation provided. I've never lost my job. I did not even choose to lose this job. How does one deal with this?
And as I was struggling with the answer to that question, along came the Twitter trending topic for the SFC National Conference (NatCon) - #BLESSED2012. My Twitter feed was flooded with tweets about blessings and answered prayers. I wanted to ignore the whole feed and not participate in any of it. But Lalai asked me to join in and use the hashtag too.
I lost my job. What else could qualify under #BLESSED2012?
Europe trip on my birthday. I had that.
Family. My household and my unit in SFC. I still have them.
Before the unfortunate turn of events, I had already said yes to serving in the Music Ministry (MM) for the NatCon. Heck, I've lost my job; don't I deserve a reprieve from the pressure of having to study and practice new songs, I thought. But, a blessing or perhaps a curse it maybe, I've never been someone who could just back out on commitments. So I continued coming for the evening practices. Jobless, I found comfort in the singing and the laughter that always accompanied every MM practice.
Still the prospect of actually attending the NatCon loomed ahead. It just didn't fit into the dreary picture.
The day I called home to tell them about my predicament, Inay cried all the tears I didn't want to shed myself. She wanted me to just go back home. I reassured her I had savings to use and that I only needed two things from them: that they constantly pray for me to get a new job soon and that they keep themselves healthy so that we wouldn't have to worry about additional medical expenses. It was only last weekend when I came to know, from Tatay, that Inay didn't eat a single meal that day.
When the family went out, my mother insisted on paying for our dinner and my aunt insisted on paying for the movie tickets. My parents had never required me to send over a monthly allowance but family dine-outs, movies and trips have always been paid for by me. That they weren't letting me do these things for them anymore made me feel worse. I wouldn't mind so much if they weren't hard-up themselves. However, I know very well that their retirement pension is the only source of income for my parents and my aunt and both my mother and my aunt are taking expensive maintenance medications. I wish God would give me a job soon, if not for my sake then for my family's peace of mind.
Fast forward to the NatCon weekend. East MM was in-charge of providing the music for the first day of the conference and I was assigned to sing the responsorial psalm at the mass. Regardless of how I'm feeling, the show must go on.
True to the tradition of SFC conferences, the NatCon was filled with powerful talks and moving sharings. I didn't know Tita Miyen personally but her talk and sharing seemed to have been written especially for me. She shared how she had been feeling downhearted that she had not yet found a job and how she had fought an internal battle with the evil one who was taunting her, "How can you still be standing there, proclaiming about your God?" Why, that was exactly the same struggle I had while I was singing the praise and worship (P&W) songs throughout the conference! How can I still be singing about how great my God is when I've lost my job? Oh, the tears I cried during P&Ws and sharings of the two-day conference - boy, was that exhausting!
In any case, I did not regret going to the NatCon. That feeling of being drained and refreshed at the same time - that was what that weekend brought to me. They say that when God closes a door, He opens a window. As I am writing this, God has not opened the window yet. However, I realized that He did not leave me empty-handed; He has left me with this community - with my household, with my unit, with the Music Ministry. That day, as I joined the rest of the community in the final worship song, I resolved that, while waiting for God to open the window, I will dedicate my time to what He has left me with.
I've always prayed for faith and patience. Now, God has given me this big opportunity to grow in faith and learn patience. I've realized that faith means giving God the chance to be God.
Sharings have always been my favorite part of prayer assemblies. It is inspiring to hear about how God had worked miracles for other people and had given them even more than what they had prayed for. Well, Lord, it's my turn now.
Thursday, 24 May 2012
My neverending battle with self-esteem
24 May 2012
Dear one,
I'm sad.
It started with that feeling of missing him. Again. So much that I wanted to see him and talk to him.
And then the longing turned into another full-fledged battle with self-esteem.
I know I'm no beauty queen. I'm lacking in many aspects of physical beauty - not skinny enough, not voluptuous enough, not fair-skinned enough, just not pretty enough. And yes, I'm not exactly the nicest person in town but I am not an evil person. Why is it so difficult for someone to love me the way other women have been loved? Why can't I find a suitable partner in life?
By today, I have counted three loves in my life. But not one of these men returned even a bit of what I've shared with them. Why do I always end up being hurt in the end? Why am I always begging for love?
You know how people try to encourage other people by reminding them of their positive qualities? Although I do appreciate my friends' efforts to do that for me, sometimes, I'd rather they not do it. Hearing how "nasa [akin] na halos lahat ng hinahanap ng isang lalaki" makes this battle even more difficult. How am I supposed to believe that if obviously none of those three men believed I had those qualities?
I wish someone would just tell me upfront what is wrong with me. In fact, I want those three men to explain to me why they didn't love me - why I wasn't enough.
And then there are times when people (especially my fellow Singles for Christ members) would tell me I should be patient in waiting for the one meant for me. They say it like somewhere out there, there is really someone meant for me. Seriously, do they actually think there is that one for me? Or are they saying it only because they'd hate to drop the bomb on me?
Yes, dear one, I write to you now, yet I wonder if you actually exist in my future. This is how sad and hopeless I have become these days.
You know that feeling when someone told you he/she would meet up with you at this certain place and you arrived at the place early. So you wait. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes. "Is he/she still coming?" you wonder, "What's keeping him/her? Did something bad happen on the way?" One hour passes, yet you don't get any phone call or text message if he/she is coming at all. Well, he/she might already be dead - but of course, you can't be sure. You're just left there to wonder and wonder and wonder. Sounds frustrating, eh? That's what it feels like to wait for you.
Dear one,
I'm sad.
It started with that feeling of missing him. Again. So much that I wanted to see him and talk to him.
And then the longing turned into another full-fledged battle with self-esteem.
I know I'm no beauty queen. I'm lacking in many aspects of physical beauty - not skinny enough, not voluptuous enough, not fair-skinned enough, just not pretty enough. And yes, I'm not exactly the nicest person in town but I am not an evil person. Why is it so difficult for someone to love me the way other women have been loved? Why can't I find a suitable partner in life?
By today, I have counted three loves in my life. But not one of these men returned even a bit of what I've shared with them. Why do I always end up being hurt in the end? Why am I always begging for love?
You know how people try to encourage other people by reminding them of their positive qualities? Although I do appreciate my friends' efforts to do that for me, sometimes, I'd rather they not do it. Hearing how "nasa [akin] na halos lahat ng hinahanap ng isang lalaki" makes this battle even more difficult. How am I supposed to believe that if obviously none of those three men believed I had those qualities?
I wish someone would just tell me upfront what is wrong with me. In fact, I want those three men to explain to me why they didn't love me - why I wasn't enough.
And then there are times when people (especially my fellow Singles for Christ members) would tell me I should be patient in waiting for the one meant for me. They say it like somewhere out there, there is really someone meant for me. Seriously, do they actually think there is that one for me? Or are they saying it only because they'd hate to drop the bomb on me?
Yes, dear one, I write to you now, yet I wonder if you actually exist in my future. This is how sad and hopeless I have become these days.
You know that feeling when someone told you he/she would meet up with you at this certain place and you arrived at the place early. So you wait. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes. "Is he/she still coming?" you wonder, "What's keeping him/her? Did something bad happen on the way?" One hour passes, yet you don't get any phone call or text message if he/she is coming at all. Well, he/she might already be dead - but of course, you can't be sure. You're just left there to wonder and wonder and wonder. Sounds frustrating, eh? That's what it feels like to wait for you.
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