I see
The horrors you refuse to acknowledge
The faces that all look hauntingly the same
The price that was too high to pay
The history that was swept under the rugs
The distance that has taken me from you
The weakness that did you in and dealt me out
Your self-congratulatory pretensions
The pictures you paint in careless black
The light you held for other people
The resultant darkness that led to my temporary blindness
I hear
The sickening thud of reality crashing to the floor
The silence that resonates and speaks volumes
The disarming sound of promises that were meant to be broken
The echo of joy disappearing in the chasm of despair
The joke that was on me and your distinctive laughter
My effervescent laughter as I cherish what remains
The beckoning of a greener pasture
The silent tears from friendly eyes that recognize my surrender
The clash of your forlorn internal battle
The ticking of the clock that signals the beginning to an end
I feel
Nothing
Still
Saturday, July 26, 2008
No Pressure Over Cappucino
I don’t know if it is coincidence or just plain art imitating life. Somehow I always find the right book to read at a particular point in my life. Now that I am in an unforgiving crossroad, I perused to read a book that an officemate pressured me to read (howdy, P!). How she knew that book would strike a chord in me remains fathomable. Of late, I have been drifting in my pristine sea of cynicism, and this book surprisingly made sense.
The book is called How Starbucks Saved My Life, an autobiographical novel by Michael Gates Gill. Mike talks about how he had it all: an enviable career, a passport to the higher echelons of society, a 7th Heaven-ish family life...practically the world at the palm of his hand. And then his human foibles got the better of him and he lost it all. He was fired, he got broke, his marriage dissolved and he needed a brain operation.
Forced to pick up the pieces of his shattered life, he was given an opportunity to work as a barista in Starbucks. Working on other side of the corporate fence gave him a new lease on life; a newfound respect for himself and the people around him. Consciously, he embraced the happiness that he never found in his previous life, despite having it all.
Gates’ story is an ordinary story of redemption but somehow it reads like a slap in the face for those people who are slaves of their job and their lifestyles. I am one of them.
Do not get me wrong. This book is not your Sunday service sermon but more of an eye opener and a reality check. Mike dishes the painful truth that we become ruled by our past and the what-might-have-beens, that we miss out on the beauty of the NOW. Then he gives us the way out: that this is something we CHOOSE to be. We always have the power to let go, learn, move on and actually... LIVE.
Mike also shows us how to look at the issues and non-issues. And life’s incorrigible irony that we often lose the things we take for granted, or realize their worth much too late. Maybe some of us will not have the chance, like Mike, to rediscover it all again.
Here are my choice lines from this book.
- Let go of the sadness, give up the fight. Follow your madness and take flight.
- More of the future, less of the past
- Will yourself to have a child’s positive attitude: HI and BYE are equally exciting.
- You only need a few friends who understand you and remain your friend.
- It is a gift to be able to take all that happened to you in such a lighthearted spirit, a genuine sense of humor about a mixed-up world.
- They told you that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. What they failed to tell you is what you look like isn’t important. What is important is who you are inside and the choices you are making in your life.
In this world that is defined by inclusive hatred and competitive anger; and where we communicate through damage, Mike’s story offers a method to the madness and a proof that we can rise above any adversary. His turnaround is nothing legendary or beyond the scope of the everyday man. It was as simple as getting over your spilt Venti Caramel Macchiato and discovering happiness in a Short Skim Latte.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
In This Skin
And when the world is on its knees with me
It's fine
And when I come to the rescue
I get nothing but left behind
***
Some people find it hard to believe that I am a reluctant achiever. I never thought of myself as extraordinary, or special even. I know I have my share of positive attributes, but who doesn’t have one. Early in life I’ve been taught not to malign others just because you are better in one aspect. I bet you they are better than you in another aspect. Everything can sum up to equilibrium.
Somehow, the diamond-in-the-rough in me is polished by pressure and circumstances until I shone. Which is not a bad thing. But it has become a blessing and a curse. There are times when I wanted to be ordinary, a John Doe, and not be singled out. Sometimes I check if I have an ominous mark on my forehead. Yes, like Harry Potter.
Back in high school, I belonged to a “special” Saturday class composed of the “best” students from different schools. For the first few weeks, I hated it there. I felt I was outside looking in. I asked myself many times what I was doing there. It was my first taste of a dog-eat-dog world where people were trying to outdo themselves. I have enough on my plate already and I don’t need that. I came so close to quitting but my adviser told me that quitting meant giving up on our school. Pressure, pressure...and so I persevered.
One humid Saturday afternoon, during a lunch break in that special class, I found myself sharing a table with our Math mentor. He asked about my life and other personal stuff. Then in a surreal moment, like something from a movie where an oracle is about to be unveiled (complete with leaves being slowly buffeted by the tepid wind and weak sunshine), he changed his tone. He said: “I see something in you. You are destined for greatness. No matter what you do or where you go, you are sure to reap achievements.”
I thought he was just fulfilling his mentor duty and maybe he said that to each of us, considering that we are anyway, “chosen people” already.
At the end of that special class, I was given two medals: one from our Math mentor and the other for being the “over-all stand-out”. I was stupefied because I never expected to get anything out of that class (heck, I didn’t even know they gave out awards). I just wanted to get it over and done with.
Then, on a Tuesday night many years later, those words came back to haunt me again.
***
In one of those out-of-the-blue moments, a friend (A) came up with this weird theory. She said: You know what your problem is? You write such beautiful tragic masterpieces. I remember in college, during your worst heartbreak, I was crying over the heart-rending letters you wrote but never gave to the intended recipient. But on the outside, you remained unaffected and carried that devil-may-care attitude.
And then she continued: You divert anguish into something worthwhile. I don't know how you do it but you manage to find the beauty in the breakdown. Hence, you are giving the world a reason not to make you happy. Sira ulo ka talaga!
Ironically, we ended up laughing hysterically.
***
The best thing about us humans is that we are all tragically flawed. But we have the power to make our own choices and decisions based on the hand we are dealt with. We can spell our successes and our downfalls. All our choices boil down to half chances.
Spiderman said that we are the choices we make. And I say: IT IS NOT WHAT YOU DO, BUT WHO YOU ARE. Oh, tragic human nature!
***
While doing a school project for my little brother, I came upon these quotables, all mined from Aesop’s fables:
- It is easy to despise something you cannot get.
- He who has many friends, have no friends.
- Do not attempt too much at once.
- Not everything you see is what it appears to be.
- It is not only fine feathers that make a fine bird.
Oh well. If only everything was this crystal and this simple.
***
I blog for its therapeutic effects and for the fear that if I don’t use what writing prowess I posses, it would fade into nonexistence. I immortalize my thoughts and my words in cyberspace with the wild wish that someone out there can get something from it. Consider it my own personal good deed.
I read before that being a writer is like going around with your pants down. I know doing so makes me an easy target for mockery and judgment. But who cares?
Sometimes I feel sheepish when I receive a text from someone claiming that they read my blog; to be followed by some “fishing” on something cryptic I wrote.
For the record, I write stuff online but I don’t write everything. There are thoughts that are still residing in some corner of my cortex and are better left unwritten. Or unsaid for that matter.
So the next time you say “nice blog,” realize that you don’t know me completely. What you read is an abridged, watered-down version of my life. But feel free to judge me, however. After all, I used to make a living out of proving people wrong and correcting their mistakes.
***
There’s a light, a revelation
It shines with the thought of you
We made things so complicated
Now I see the simple truth
It's fine
And when I come to the rescue
I get nothing but left behind
***
Some people find it hard to believe that I am a reluctant achiever. I never thought of myself as extraordinary, or special even. I know I have my share of positive attributes, but who doesn’t have one. Early in life I’ve been taught not to malign others just because you are better in one aspect. I bet you they are better than you in another aspect. Everything can sum up to equilibrium.
Somehow, the diamond-in-the-rough in me is polished by pressure and circumstances until I shone. Which is not a bad thing. But it has become a blessing and a curse. There are times when I wanted to be ordinary, a John Doe, and not be singled out. Sometimes I check if I have an ominous mark on my forehead. Yes, like Harry Potter.
Back in high school, I belonged to a “special” Saturday class composed of the “best” students from different schools. For the first few weeks, I hated it there. I felt I was outside looking in. I asked myself many times what I was doing there. It was my first taste of a dog-eat-dog world where people were trying to outdo themselves. I have enough on my plate already and I don’t need that. I came so close to quitting but my adviser told me that quitting meant giving up on our school. Pressure, pressure...and so I persevered.
One humid Saturday afternoon, during a lunch break in that special class, I found myself sharing a table with our Math mentor. He asked about my life and other personal stuff. Then in a surreal moment, like something from a movie where an oracle is about to be unveiled (complete with leaves being slowly buffeted by the tepid wind and weak sunshine), he changed his tone. He said: “I see something in you. You are destined for greatness. No matter what you do or where you go, you are sure to reap achievements.”
I thought he was just fulfilling his mentor duty and maybe he said that to each of us, considering that we are anyway, “chosen people” already.
At the end of that special class, I was given two medals: one from our Math mentor and the other for being the “over-all stand-out”. I was stupefied because I never expected to get anything out of that class (heck, I didn’t even know they gave out awards). I just wanted to get it over and done with.
Then, on a Tuesday night many years later, those words came back to haunt me again.
***
In one of those out-of-the-blue moments, a friend (A) came up with this weird theory. She said: You know what your problem is? You write such beautiful tragic masterpieces. I remember in college, during your worst heartbreak, I was crying over the heart-rending letters you wrote but never gave to the intended recipient. But on the outside, you remained unaffected and carried that devil-may-care attitude.
And then she continued: You divert anguish into something worthwhile. I don't know how you do it but you manage to find the beauty in the breakdown. Hence, you are giving the world a reason not to make you happy. Sira ulo ka talaga!
Ironically, we ended up laughing hysterically.
***
The best thing about us humans is that we are all tragically flawed. But we have the power to make our own choices and decisions based on the hand we are dealt with. We can spell our successes and our downfalls. All our choices boil down to half chances.
Spiderman said that we are the choices we make. And I say: IT IS NOT WHAT YOU DO, BUT WHO YOU ARE. Oh, tragic human nature!
***
While doing a school project for my little brother, I came upon these quotables, all mined from Aesop’s fables:
- It is easy to despise something you cannot get.
- He who has many friends, have no friends.
- Do not attempt too much at once.
- Not everything you see is what it appears to be.
- It is not only fine feathers that make a fine bird.
Oh well. If only everything was this crystal and this simple.
***
I blog for its therapeutic effects and for the fear that if I don’t use what writing prowess I posses, it would fade into nonexistence. I immortalize my thoughts and my words in cyberspace with the wild wish that someone out there can get something from it. Consider it my own personal good deed.
I read before that being a writer is like going around with your pants down. I know doing so makes me an easy target for mockery and judgment. But who cares?
Sometimes I feel sheepish when I receive a text from someone claiming that they read my blog; to be followed by some “fishing” on something cryptic I wrote.
For the record, I write stuff online but I don’t write everything. There are thoughts that are still residing in some corner of my cortex and are better left unwritten. Or unsaid for that matter.
So the next time you say “nice blog,” realize that you don’t know me completely. What you read is an abridged, watered-down version of my life. But feel free to judge me, however. After all, I used to make a living out of proving people wrong and correcting their mistakes.
***
There’s a light, a revelation
It shines with the thought of you
We made things so complicated
Now I see the simple truth
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