angel stuff

she sits comfortably in her chair, her eyes rapt.  i sit quietly in a corner, my hands making sweet melodies on my laptop.

“mommy, i know how to play the game now.  i used the help tool.”

i smile at her.  “well, that’s why it’s there.  you see now what a little patience can do?”

i begin to sing an old song to her in the tune of mary had a little lamb.  “patience means you have to wait, have to wait.  patience means you have to wait..”

she smiles sheepishly but cuts me off.  “eeeiiii, mommy, please stop singing it to me.”

i smile indulgently at her, knowing i have already made my point.

she goes back at her game and i go back to mine. 

after a very long pause, she blurts out, “mommy, my dinosaur knows how to use the loo.”

i smiled again in amusement.  how many nine-year old kids who are not britons do you know who uses the word “loo”?

“eeeeoooowww!” i responded to her.  “is your dinosaur trying to turn the whole dino park into one big loo?”

“of course not, silly mommy. it has its own loo.”

then she goes back to playing.  and i go back to playing too.

“mommy, what do you think i should get for my dinosaur? a hat, a shirt or a bag?”

i think it over.  “maybe a shirt to keep it warm?”

“yes, i think so too, mommy.”

long pause again.

“i think it’s way past your bedtime.  please shutdown, baby.  we still have to go to the family lunch tomorrow.”  i called out to her.

she closes her own laptop.  then she lies down beside me.

“mommy, do you know what my dinosaur’s name is?”

“tell me, please.”

“angel.”

i laugh.  and she laughs too…

Add comment February 28, 2009

Johari’s Window

2.12.09

Under the stars, walking along a park in Makati

I wanted to touch lives and make a difference.  But I didn’t know how.

I came back from the Netherlands with the fire gone out of me.  I had felt beaten and I had no more strength to fight back.  I was an old woman.  Dorothy had commented how changed I was.  She was trying to pinpoint it.  How can I tell her I had let myself die inside out?

Caloy observed that I lost the warrior in me.  I had seemed… beaten.  He said I needed healing.  Meditation was his remedy for me.  A way for me to channel my energy.  And to shield me from destructive acts.  My well-meaning friends.  I don’t know how I could tell them.

I plodded on, unsure…  Took on a job without any hope of career movement.  Then a small break.  A little bit of pride-swallowing.  And I threw myself on to my job like there was no other day.

It was a slow start.  I didn’t know what my real role was.  I was unsure of everything.  Attention to details was all I had.  Little by little, more work came.  And still more work.  And I developed friendships along the way.  How much difference can it make, sitting by the pantry listening to people.  Coffee and laughter, comfort food and angsts, a warm touch here and there and we go back to the toil, a bit warmed all over again.

Cold weather came.  Bumpy roads and long stretches of travel time.  There were days when I simply don’t seem to finish anything.  People I met.  Uncertain, questioning.  What can I offer them?  I didn’t know if I have anything I can offer them.  Only an assurance.  A comforting word to tell them that I can do my best to let people on top about their concerns.  Delays along the way.  And for every concern addressed, another one comes up. Some seemed so little.  Others seemed as if there are no solutions on sight.  Always, they unravel in front of my eyes.  I am one but I am only one.

What kind of affirmation did I expect?  Did I have the right, in the first place, to seek for affirmation?  I was brought up in the company of noble teachers.  They knew what service meant.  I learned from them.  Is there affirmation in store for those who were born to serve?

In a novel, Og Mandino once wrote: “Tenderly treat the lives of those whom you touch as if they would end at midnight.”  A noble task indeed.  One I did not know how to do.

There are windows about yourself that are known to the world and to you as a person.  And there are also windows which you prefer to keep the world out.  And too, there are windows that the world sees in you but you don’t see.

Almost two emotionally taxing hours of mirroring exercise in a company-sponsored activity.  I didn’t know what I should say to a lot of people.  I barely know them.  What possible good can you say to these people.  With a great effort, I reached out and held their hand and began to tell them something.

I started the mirroring exercise prepared to close myself against possible hurtful words I may hear.  I was wrong.

I was humbled.  So humbled.

I never knew what a difference I could make in the life of people.  To hear more than ten people talk about that difference, it makes my knees shake.  Perhaps, it was just as well that I was holding on to their hands.

I thought I had learned about humility in San Beda.  Last week, I found a new source of humility.

I was beginning to lose hope.  I was beginning to run out of sources of inspiration.  I was being torn, one by one.  I was already beginning to doubt a lot of things.  Where am I leading myself into?  Did I take the right path?  Did I make the right decision a year ago?  Two years ago?  Ten years ago?

There are days when you doubt the wisdom of your decision.  Still, there are days when you simply find affirmation in the most unexpected places, from the most unlikely people.

As for me… I will always be this mess.  Crying… sobbing as I hear affirmation in the hands of people I thought I was not reaching enough. 

I had found a new source for my inspiration.

je suis cassé

mais vous m’avez guéri

pour cela, je suis reconnaissant

Add comment February 12, 2009

Finding Autumn

10.02.08

Davao Eden Nature Park

A relaxing morning in Davao’s Eden Nature Park.  I am already freshly showered and dressed, waiting for my roomies to finish theirs so we can go up to the resto and have breakfast.  I am sitting here by the foyer, looking at glorious sunshine filtering through very tall trees.  Morning music fills the air, thanks to those cicadas and I-don’t-know-what-they are called insects making their early noises.  Every now and then, yellow and brown leaves slowly plummet down to the ground, soon to be nourishment for the earth.  No signs of life or movement coming from the cottage ahead.  You can stay here and forget the rest of the world exists after all.  No telephone calls to disturb you unless it’s your cellphone ringing.  How this part of the world sees the bigger world, I don’t know.  It sits here just like a maiden from the olden times, waiting for a straggler to stumble by, discover its beauty and hope to God they return for her to fulfill promises made in the middle of the night.  Until the mist is shattered by the sound of basketball hitting the cemented ground somewhere…

Yonder is where we’ll have part 2 of the corpcomm sessions.  ‘Tis a place which reconnected me yesterday to a distant part of my memory, something I quickly forgot for some painful reason.   In front of the session hall stood a playground.  Several zip flights on the right.  Kids scrambling around for one.  My nostrils automatically sought out particular smells which should have been pervading the air by now.  But my senses felt only loss.  A memory of Irish, Rommel, Herni and me in Schev suddenly appears.  We were taking pictures of kids in the playground of Schev.  Irish held hostage one of the zip flights, easily sliding up and down with her light weight.  I followed and no surprise there, I stopped in the middle of the zip and lost momentum to go up the other side because I was too heavy.  Rommel was taking pictures and Herni tried to pull me up.  We were happy as kids once again.

On the left stood a set of slides, swings and other structures meant to give enjoyment to kids.  Unbidden, the image of a laughing Amada popped up.  Polin was there, holding Angela safe.  Agnes and Jason watching in amusement.  It was an afternoon spent in Breda with the De Joode kids.  Carefree autumn.  A holiday from the pressures of life.  And I wished suddenly for autumn to come back…

Don’t let anybody tell you who you are

It’s okay to let go, you’re like a shooting star

Remember all you wish for

Believe they will be true

You will never find yourself anywhere else

So find yourself in you…

-          Hannah Montanna, Find Yourself in You

2 comments February 10, 2009