I have moved out

Chances are, we’ll find two destinations…

- Five for Fighting

Dear Blog # 3,

What I’m feeling right now, are butterflies. Fluttering round in my tummy. I’m scrambling for words, but there’s actually only one word to say: Goodbye. Why is it that I’ve always felt that word isn’t enough? I don’t know. I just don’t think it isn’t.

Another thing, I’m not actually good at staging farewell speeches. Now, I don’t wish to bore you with proofs of my incompetence. So, move on. (I mean read on.)

I’m writing elsewhere now. So, for the final words…here.

This blog marks the months and a year I battled an illness, got baffled by my own immaturity, and was blinded by the words that I thought sounded cool (yeah, that is what really describes how I saw them). When they actually meant nothing. Only tiny translucent veils that attempted to conceal my vanity.

Eeewe (please bear with me, this is the last time you might hear these words from me), but the posts here were really icky. Not that I don’t love them. Oh no, I treasure them. Like entries in trusty journals of the past, I won’t discard any post. They’ll be kept safe here. They were the guideposts along my journey from immaturity to maturity.

I’m changing now. Unfortunately, I can’t take this blog with me to where I’m going. Oh, this is hard, but I think this is it.

I’m changing, less and less asleep

Made of different stuff than when I began

Thank you for all the lessons I’ve learned through you, as well as the friends I’ve made and the journey I had that can’t be replaced by anything, anymore.

Please extend my gratitude to these friends: Mia, Ate Sheila, Ate Kim, Desiree, Ate Honesty, and Ate Hazel.

Merci beau-coup, mon ami!

Au Revoir,

Shadee

PS I miss my French classes. I know. You’ll miss me, too. This side of me, noh? I guess I’m gonna miss myself as well. Schizo.

The Night After Valentine’s Day

Well, here is something for August–from February, posted in September. This is not a late post, but timely–I think–for the writer, for reasons only he could know and I could only assume. Oh yeah, I did not write this. Kuya EJ did, as a response to my late-night ranting, which I do not wish to talk about now. So all right, just read on.

By the way,

I dedicate this to her. (=

*****

“Really? I can go?”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s great! Thank you so much!”

At that point, I left as soon as possible before he can change his mind.

Flowers. Food. Film. OK, OK, I know I sound like a character from Dora the Explorer. But those three items make up “The Plan”. You can’t get any clearer than that.

Inside a nearby flower shop, I sheepishly asked for a nice bouquet of roses. The attendant gladly fulfilled my request even though they were about to close for the day. While she was arranging the bunch I ordered, I looked around and chanced upon the owner of the store.

“You’re late. Yesterday was Valentine’s Day.”

“Well, I just got paid today. Though I really wanted to do something special.”

“I see. Don’t worry, you picked a nice bouquet.”

I just smiled, unable to formulate a verbal response. When the lady finished with the arrangement, she handed it to me and got my payment. There was a twinkle in her eye as I glanced at her after reviewing my selection.

” I hope she likes it”, she said.

“Me, too.”

And I was off to buy food.

There’s a nice pizza and pasta place in our vicinity and I didn’t hesitate to order a Viva Venezia and a Tuna Mushroom for the two of us. If there were leftovers, her housemates will certainly take care of that. It took about fifteen minutes to cook and package everything. While waiting, I wasn’t able to avoid the cashier’s curiousity.

“Hmm…what’s that?”

Wasn’t it obvious? “Just flowers”, I said.

“For your girlfriend?”

“Not really. It’s kind of complicated.” I couldn’t believe what I just said. But we both laughed it off and I tried my best to convey without words that the conversation was over.

“Well, here you go. Enjoy your date.”

“Thanks!” And I argued with myself whether what she said was somehow true.

I rode a taxi because I didn’t want people staring at me, a semi-bald guy holding a bouquet in one hand and a box of pizza in the other. Plus, I needed to preserve my freshness after two detours. Ten minutes and I was knocking on her front door. But it wasn’t she who answered it.

“Oh! Come inside. She’s upstairs.”

“Thanks!” And I made my way into familiar territory.

I placed the food on the table and refused to take a seat until she showed so that I could hand her the flowers. As she was descending, I looked silly with both of my hands behind my back obviously trying to conceal something.

“Hey, what’s up? You surprised me.”

“Well, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” Then I handed her the flowers.

She was speechless for a moment. The huge smile on her face told me that I did something right that night.

“Wow, thank you.”

“Belated Happy Valentine’s Day! I also brought food. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to take you to the movies.”

I don’t want to go into too much detail. I know you’re wondering what transpired for the rest of the night. It was a great night, let’s leave it at that. The memory of that evening is still fresh in my memory. I can’t remember everything and some of the dialogue you just read might just be fabricated for the purpose of entertainment. But the essence of this moment in time was certainly captured. You might know nothing about this or you might have eaten a slice of the pizza we ate. All of these boil down to one realization.

I just realized I went on a date.

Secrets of the short lines

Life with God is eternal life – life that never fails and never ends.

~ A course introduction in the online World Bible School

There are short lines that tell much at one point. They choose to let the drapery that conceals their secrets fall as you watch in one sitting – and when they do, their secrets fly loose like how movies depict souls in transit, striding mightily towards you until they have taken over you.

Eternal life, that one phrase out of the quoted line above. I used to measure it the way my age, the minutes, each millenium are quantified. It is, to me, a life that keeps accumulating years to no end. I kept my visions of it in a world that is still dominated by time, even space.

And then, while starting my second course in WBS, I was sitting as if waiting on a gala performance and to be stricken with awe, the short line above unveils its secret to me:

Eternal life is

A LIFE THAT NEVER FAILS AND NEVER ENDS.

A life that never fails. That is what really gets through to me.

A life that never fails.

A life that never fails.

A life that never fails.

Eternal life is a life that never fails. Sorry that, after all my previous discourse, I could not explain further what the line revealed to me. It is enough that you know it has a secret, and this kind of secret is not mine to bare.

Clamor of the mob

Here are a couple of thoughts:

1. Tracking back to the campaign period, I heard stories about a local candidate who doled out cash to people, thinking that would be her ticket to the office at the town hall. Now, I’ve never attempted on any act of verification, especially standing in line outside her house to receive charity personally. So all that’s inside my head are mere hearsays, and I’m beginning to think whether somewhere in the mid-ranks there could have been supporters or detractors who made up stories about this vote solicitation strategy to lure the people back to the illusion this sick pre-elections habit gives- that the near future, the next six years to be exact, values at P500 in the voters’ market. But that’s just me.

2. And why is it that people clamor for politicians’ money? Because they’re probably taking back what is rightfully theirs? The pesos that should’ve paved smooth and sturdy roads, built classrooms and offered free textbooks to each of their kids, or just at least made sugar and oil affordable to them?

This is a story of this archipelagian nation’s hoi polloi. We have to help them get out of the rut by not giving in to their clamor. We have to take them away from the mob.

Every moment changes forever

I’m a wobbly writer of titles, and introductions, so let’s get on to the point. . . But if you’ve visited this blog twice already, you’d have probably figured out I’m not a woman of few words. And I’m not straight-to-the-point like that.

So let me tell you about my afternoon.

I called a date with my super friends, Tim and Eva, which meant hanging out at a department store in town after the two had misa. I was also going to buy ingredients for my Graham balls (yes, business is back and I’m starting to build a suki base back here. . .well, I hope. Thanks, mom and mars!), but just when I was about to cross to Magic’s (where the department store is) side of the street, T and E were in sight waving and stopping me.

“We’re going elsewhere.”

Turned out we were going to meet Bethz, who was at the same misa with them but they never saw one another there, and who called out to them at a smoothie stand just across the other block. The four of us ended up having grilled sandwiches, smoothies, and two hours long catch-up chat.

Now maybe you’re thinking I’m just being breezy talking about diary stuff like this, but I’m kindof new to this catching up with high school friends thing. Let’s just say I used to maintain a not-so-close distance with old friends, and a detached demeanor toward anything related to my hometown. Lesson # 1 (lesson # 2 here), Rizal was right. Perhaps what he meant by lumingon sa pinanggalingan was being able to track back, to recognize the journey from point 1.

And with all the updates, I’d say we all have come a long way from Day 1. One of us is now engaged to a man I hope I’ll have the chance to meet again and be great compadres with. (Hehe, compadres huh?) Take this from my sweet girl pal, Bethz: When you start looking, go find a man whose future plans have you in it. I have a tagline for that: Find a man with a vision. RJ was that man for her. And last June 5, a day before her birthday, he made happen a moment that have changed both their portions of forever.

He took her to the beach, where they oft-times take walks–to the beach where she finally said yes to his courting. (The movies were right on this moment, where couples walk side by side professing love and stuff to one another, the guy the one talking more like that.) But first he was quiet, and right then she knew he was about to say something serious and important. He followed his silence with the professing of love part, mentioned that he already wanted to marry her, and asked *giggle/scream/say awww*. . .”will you marry me?”.

She said yes first before crying, and I wonder if it is inevitable for tears to follow a woman’s yes in a proposal. Will it even matter? OK, let’s leave the thinking during offline hours. Going back, they then walked back to the car where he gave her the ring. I was thinking he knelt and sounded like Gerald Anderson, stiff and script-based, but by the way she related everything, it was all spontaneous. Well-thought of, previously planned, but spontaneous. The setting was simple, no violins, dim lights, candle lights, petals on sand, but all romantic just the same. It is a beautifully executed act if eternity were just a timeline in a play and the actors were us, humans.

But it really happened. Close to home. This moment I’m glad to be home; blessed to be in many ways I could tell all the back stories in separate entries for the whole of June. And if indeed every moment changes forever, then I hope I’ll see RJ and Bethz happier and blessed, from point 1 to when eternity closes in on forever*.

* Till forever closes in on eternity. ~ Hazel Javier

Edited: 15 June 2010, 11:30 pm

Reason for edit: Re-drafting, because I originally sounded like I was talking to myself. Peace.

The point has been made way back in kindergarten

Flash backward. Once when I was five, I took a nap in class, which I shouldn’t have done. That cost me my dignity in front of my classmates, because I stopped copying a little story from the chart, and the next day we were called to read it aloud up front. Back in kindergarten my Teacher Bec never suggested we could share notes in class. Crayons, yes. Snacks, could be. But your notes were your own responsibility.

When I was six I remember having stood in the classroom’s back corners several times, sometimes even facing the wall. Now, that is losing my dignity from the opposite side, behind my classmates. Several times it was because my nails hadn’t been well trimmed, and the others because I’d been fighting with my best friends. In Teacher Marilyn’s class we shouldn’t be fighting one another, and that wasn’t just because we were still kids.

"Oh hai there, I'm an ostrich." 'Course it's brown, but this is just the sort of color mix I'd use back when I was a preschool tot. Imagination--way better than knowledge, huh?;p

Everything I need to know I learned in kindergarten, quipped Og Mandino. I’ve yet to finish the book but I’d have to say I second that. Copying the little story into your own notes and caring for your nails entail and imply self-discipline, for one. And for another they are telling you, be responsible. OK, responsibility is kindof big for a kindergartener, she might even be unable to spell the word. But everything basic, simple, foundational to any high-value principle, lovely, noteworthy, honorable and excellent, has been taught to a toddler that is yet full of faith. But by the time she reaches adolescence, she will have to re-learn it the hard way, from the school of hard knocks. Take it from me, I just re-learned my lessons yesterday.

I know, there are lessons that need reinforcement, but hard work, perseverance, never giving up, putting in the effort, I really did just learn them yesterday–OK, the whole of last week. And thanks to Ala Paredes who wrapped up those four lessons for me. I finally learned that I have to work hard, like 9-5; persevere, try every good point in the action plan until one works out; never give up, don’t allow your emotions to get in the way, conquer expectation hangover (©Christine Hassler), fire all your guns till you’re dead (but never shoot yourself, ‘course); and put in the effort, exercise, work in the five workdays you’ve been given, plan, backup your plan, do not be anxious, pray.

Funny I saw both Teachers Bec and Marilyn in one payday afternoon yesterday. It was almost decades when I last talked to and saw them, except for a couple of occasions. I know they’d been proud of me when I was their pupil–aced the tests, did the homework, and except for that one missing story in my notebook, wrote down notes and slept only at nap time. I used to learn a lot from the books and classes but learn slow in life. Just blessed that I haven’t been expelled yet, even when I was a fool to not get the lessons from way back in kindergarten.

The Prelude

Just this weekend my folks and I cranked up to Iba, Zambales for a camp that would change my life forever.

It was a big event with 1,000+ youths, mostly unbelievers yet, gathering from key Luzon areas like Metro Manila, the CALABARZON, and Northwestern and Central Luzon. It was a long story why I ended up in that place, but here is the most important part: I shared to 18 women, in a nutshell, about salvation and baptism. Amazingly, majority of the girls in my group were from my province, Pangasinan.

I shared to them about grace as I have come to know it. The first night I shared to the first group the story of how I got saved. The morning after, I passionately shared to another group the assurance of their newfound salvation (topics were in our counselor’s pamphlet)–or the freedom that comes from grace. It was a privilege to proclaim that the blood of Jesus works and through it we have special privileges to enjoy the God-life we have freely been offered.

I also got a quiet moment with my mom, with the majestic Sierra Madre being so near in sight and the mango orchard bordering The Highlands making it splendid and unforgettable.

And there are more wonderful things that happened there, but written words are not fit to describe them at the moment. But again, these are just a prelude to more glorious things that are ahead of us (my friend’s words). All I know is that I have been created for a higher call. That is what I rediscovered back in Iba. And now I believe that greater things have yet to come. I can sense the immediacy of the future, but then again, with the present I am still stricken with awe. Jesus is the best!