Entry 12: What do you live for?

What do you live for?

A colleague gave me a book for Christmas, "The Happiness Project". I flipped through a few pages and decided I am interested to finish it. Just a few leaves through Chapter One, though, I grew anxious.

I am a generally happy person. No brainer, I am simply, easily happy. This book, however, tackles happiness as if it's rocket science.

It talks about pursuing happiness, being more conscious of the things that make us happy, and the other theories and sciences of everyday happiness.

Questions bombarded my mediocre mind: "Am I just happy because I was born with happy genes? Is my happy disposition just a by-product of my hormones? What is it that really makes me happy?"

I plunged into a philosophical discourse with myself - which proved to be a bad idea. It only bore more questions. This has to be a proper conversation with another person

Fortunately, a lovely mind shared his simplistic life thoughts that enlightened me. Along the sense-ridden conversation popped, "What do you live for?"

On a scale of 1 to ... Calculus, that question merits a level of "Calculus". That has got to be one of the hardest questions I ever had to answer!

I don't know. In truth, I was relieved that I had no answer because it meant something healthy.

Had I been asked the same question last year or a few years back, I would have answered differently. Around three years ago, I thought I found my purpose for living - build a happy family with a loved one. Well, that ship has sailed. I decided to stay on the port (i.e. and the ship left me as well - whatever). Nonetheless, I have been differently happy since then.

Today, not being able to answer "What do you live for?" is a beautiful blessing. It means opportunities to unravel the world, know myself further, and all those profound idiosyncrasies. It has an underlying adventure to it! Most of all, not having a ready answer to that question means I have cleanly let go of what I really should be letting go of.

"The Happiness Project" is not a good self-help book about the much-coveted "happiness". Yet, it did good in moving me to re-think many facets of my life.

So ... let me open 2013 with a question, "What do you live for?". Cheers to an excellent year ahead! :)

Entry 11: False Alarm

 "Hell hath no wrath than a woman scorned".

That pretty much defines what I felt when I learned that I would be transferred to a different unit in three days.

I visited the room where I will be moved to. Suffice it to say that the view painted my vocabulary red. Rest assured that I kept the colorful words to myself. That, however, did not stop me from hours-long worth of negotiation with the care taker and owner.

All that occupied my mind for the whole day was the logistics. Where to move? How to get our remaining deposit? Where to get extra cash for this sudden twist? The internet and, of course, tons of prayers were my resolve.

In the process of scouring the web for available spaces, I discovered a lot of virtual clutter-turned-information troves: rent-to-own options, easy payment schemes, investment opportunities, and the like. I made calls, talked to brokers; expanded my network.

When the day closed, the care taker called with beautiful news. We need not move after all. False alarm.

False alarms like this one are wonderful life-shakers. What I experienced may not be as crippling as other people's dilemmas but this definitely moved me out of my monotony. It kicked me out of my complacency.

In my desk-bound, urban jungle-shaped life, I lack adventure. Maybe, that's what I need next year. So go ahead, life! Alarm all you can. Like what Claire said in Letters to Juliet, "Life is the messy bits". Let's get soiled and mold art out of dirt!

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Entry 10: Thank You IBM

Some people drink to celebrate. Some eat out. I prefer to write. Let this entry capture the bliss that blesses my soul as we speak.

Last night, I was invited to a cocktail event at The Richmonde Hotel. I came in a little black dress, gold collar piece, and some light make up. Hotel events intimidate me. Yet my guts moved me attend.

The event turned out to be more than just free dinner and cocktails. Entitled "HR Eminence Awards", the company/tower surprised us with a humbling recognition in the form of certificates and GCs.

I never dreamed of working in IBM. Now that I am here, I realized that this is a dream company. It "works" for me because it "works" to innovate our way of living, develop mankind's full potential, and turn ideals to reality.

I am grateful for the awards that embellish my room and resume. Yet those are just secondary. Being part of what contributes greater good to many is the reward of a day's worth of work. That is what I am thankful for everyday.

Thank you, IBM!

Entry 9: Happy Beginnings

Impromptu speeches are hard. Wearing bejeweled heels is harder. Finding true love, I would have to say, is the hardest--in its superlative level. It's in an entire league altogether of "difficult".

Since 5th grade, I see fairy tales as delusions. To me, they used to be unreal stories of non-existent happy endings until last Saturday.

Laces, foliage, bubbles, and glimmering lights graced the night like a beautiful Victorian dream. Yet above all, what lent beauty to the celebration is the couple's happy glow. The eyes smile in behalf of the heart. Though one can stage a portrait, it takes an excellent con artist to fake happiness. Elle maybe a lot of things but she is (1) not known much for her "artistry" and (2) never known to pretend. The picture above claims truth to this.

Now I understand why I never subscribed to how fairy tales are written. They have framed weddings as "Happy Endings". It is injustice to reduce life-long unions as such!

Weddings aren't just "happy endings". Marriages are, on the contrary, blessed beginnings. Thanks, Miles and Elle, for inspiring me to believe again. Congratulations!

Entry 8: Notebooks

Notebooks pull my heart strings.

I am a highly disorganized person. I make plans as I go, pick random choices, and misplace stuff often. My passwords are a set of ineffable characters – just because.

Stories of people are etched in my brain but details of tasks simply elude me. I need notes.

That’s why notebooks pull my heart strings. Taking down notes is my defense against my own, messy self. Posted below are just some of my favorite journals I kept over the years (Yes, some are Barbie-covered tomes).

We are all differently wired. Some are anal, others are neurotic. What matters are not the psychoses we are born with but the efforts we make to balance those compulsions. Let not our brand of oddities get in the way of our goals.

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Entry 7: Independence Day

June 12 often translates to Kawit, Cavite, Emilio Aguinaldo and, the Philippine flag. To many, this mirrors truth.

While we know the facts on paper, what lacks is an understanding of what we really celebrate every year. Today, how do we really define "Independence"?

Skip the history lessons. Elementary already covered that. Let us ask ourselves, "What does Araw ng Kalayaan mean to me today?"

In the microcosm I belong to, I define the Filipino Independence as a state where one (1.) harvests the best from what the world offers and (2.) makes those work to his/her advantage. We live in a borderless era. Globalization is at hand and the Filipinos have successfully embraced it.

It's just too ubiquitous for us to miss. It's in our jobs, modes of education, vessels of communication, policies, preferences, scientific breakthroughs, and everyday innovation. The Filipino has found his/her way to the world and has harnessed what's good to better our nation.

While many put forth that globalization will lead to a flattening of our culture, I do not share the same thoughts.

Culture is alive! It is the collective face of our ways of living. It has never been dictated from a book. Rather, it has always been a result of how we decide to live our lives. It is not what "should be" but "what is". Thus, our culture will not be "flattened". Filipinos always have a way of acculturating things: adding our own Pinoy flair to something that used to be "foreign".

Three hundred years under Spain, 48 years colonized by America, and some 4 years held captive by Japan--those taught us resiliency. That is what I celebrate every June 12: our successful evolutionary niche of resiliency that hoists the Filipino up after every arduous chapter. We have developed a psyche of continuously striving to marry the best of other nations with our own flavors, strategies, and situation.

Freedom is not just being unbound. It is also finding roots in many shores but still recognize which is home.

We easily reduce June 12 to a piece of cloth and a memory in Kawit, Cavite. But let us remember that we write an infinite story -- history. We are responsible for finding meaning in our daily Filipino affairs; and it is not an option but a moral duty.

Maligayang Araw ng Kalayaan!

Entry 6: Mirror, Mirror

ONCE UPON A TIME is a new series in ETC. The pilot episode featured a stunning witch with wonderful smoky eyes and a plot-turning curse. Eons before, what would have I looked like as a scheming witch? That got me inspired to pick up a mirror and utter vanity’s ultimate prayer: “Mirror mirror on the wall”... I bet you finished the sentence in your head.

Entry 5: Silver Triad

New things are brats that taunt "use me, use me". It's guiltless to give in if those were new clothes, pens, or books (i.e. in that case, let me edit and say "read
 me, read me"). However, if we are talking about silverware, that's an entirely different case. Unfortunately, that is the story today.

I am fixated with collecting and redeeming so I took on the Shopwise Sola challenge. A couple of weeks later, 12 stickers filled my card. Last night, I found myself home with a glorious three-piece set of Swiss silverware. It was exquisite and free!

Today, the urge to use the spoon-fork-knife triad woke me up. I thought lunch would satisfy my will to use Sola. I was wrong. On the contrary, it left me wanting more. Sunday was spent with five meals. Even cheeseballs were absurdly eaten using those evil silvers (Who eats cheeseballs with a spoon?).

This could be a good thing, though. Sola might inspire me to prepare packed "lunch" and save up cash. On the downside, we are three weeks closer to Elle's wedding where I, as those who might know, should fit in the dress and not the other way around.

I hope my inner sloth would balance the picture and discourage my lazy bottom from preparing (and eating) five meals a day. Nonetheless, I am very pleased with my well-earned and happily redeemed silver triad.

Entry 4: Post-Dessert Dessert

Kahlil Gibran once said, "Work is love made visible." The great thing about love is that it is unconditional so when you do get something in return, it feels like the dessert after the dessert (which is always sweeter!) Last quarter, I got two post-dessert desserts. When those two 8.5x11 proof of appreciation found its way to our home in Laguna, my parents' faces were welling with pride. It was priceless. Thank you, Lord!




Reference:



Certificate 1 - April 14, 2012
Certificate 2 - May 29, 2012

Entry 3: Left Lens

By some mischief of fate, I never get it right with my left lens. I would have added “no pun intended” but for those who know me, I am always in for the “pun”.

January 2011, I threw out the used saline solution in the sink—with my left TORIC contact lens still suspended in it! Seconds after I realized this, the tap water was already storming down my response to astigmatism. There goes 50% of good vision.

I felt guilty literally flushing 6K worth of TORIC “down the drain” so I never planned on subscribing to contacts again. I went back to wearing glasses. Yet I seem to be in the habit of screwing the left.

It was a rainy May 29^th 2012 when I put on my purple company-paid Revlon specs. I went inside National Bookstore and everything in my left eye seemed unclear. I thought the downpour blurred my lens. I was wrong. My purple specs now frames only one lens, the other half seemed to have popped out. Guess which lens drowned in the puddles outside? Yes, it was the left one.

Fortunately, I always have a spare for the basics, including glasses. Yet I guess, I need not buy an entire frame altogether. I should probably just tuck away a couple of left lenses.

I have been told that I am a predictable person. I can take that. Yet having predictable mishaps is just plain cruel.

Entry 2: Windows

This entry is written in the comforts of my fairly-lit, crème-washed, artificially ocean-scented room 23 floors above the ground. I am sitting in a leather cushion which I snatched from our living room while my housemates are out for the weekend. When I look around, I see my wardrobe in front, the left is occupied with a bunk bed, in my right is a wooden closet, and at my back is the highlight of the room, a three-paneled, sepia-toned glass window.

I have always been amused with windows. They allow one to be in two places at once. Back at home, I used to have a wonderful view of the sky, mango trees, and lush greeneries in my room. Yet in this city room I rent, all I see are rows of people ridden-panes.

The nostalgic orange sky or the occasional perching doves appeal not to my “neighbors” here. The only time they draw near the window, is when nicotine calls them. Some people embellish their spaces with florals or items of aesthetics; not my neighbors. Their idea of urban décor is smoke butts collecting in the trellis.

I have no problems about that. The entire Metro Manila lies in a blanket of smog anyway. I just hope people who live in this building would be more human-like. They seem detached from the stories of the streets, songs of the Aves, and beauty of the sky.

I think the closest window they frequent are those labeled as XP, Vista, or 7, so to my neighbors who are interested, these are just a few of what you folks have been missing:

 

 

Entry 1: Welcome

How we spend our days is how we spend our lives. Ergo, more uneventful days mean an uneventful life. Let this project counter that.

This LJ of sorts is one of my thousand attempts to maintain a vessel that documents my thoughts and years of existence—or subsistence. I hope this one will be more fruitful than futile.

Unlike how usual episodes open, let us not begin with how the subject came to be. Life is now so why not open with “what is”.

Reader beware: I write as I think so forgive the superfluous, random, and disorganized entries. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I take pleasure in stringing words into everyday stories. :)