JASMINE IN MY MIND

My choice of music is what you’d call diverse. In terms of genre, I can go for pop, jazz, rhythm and blues, ethnic (when feeling artsy-fartsy), classical (esp. when I’m child-bearing), rock and roll, rap music, reggae, hiphop, or folk.

But if I am to choose the best musical era – it would be the 80s! All the songs then were good and heart-melting, the kind that you’d love to sing through and through. Timeless.

I was in grade school from mid to late 80s. It was a time when I had fun watching MTVs of The Jets, Paula Abdul, Starship, Janet Jackson, Rick Astley, Lisa Lisa, Whitney Houston, Klymaxx, Prince, Wilson Philipps, Madonna, Debbie Gibson, Tiffany, and a lot more. Perhaps it was also the same exposure that made me learn singing by heart. My aunts used to wonder why it seemed easy for me to register any song’s lyrics inside my head.

There’s one foreign singer I particularly liked. Her name is Elizabeth Wolfgramm, vocalist and member of defunct band The Jets. Recently though, I found out she was only 12 when she recorded “You got it All” that hit number 1 on the Billboard Adult Contemporary Charts and landed number 3 on the Pop Charts. Some says her voice resembles that of Anita Baker, only brighter. I must agree.

Whenever I listen to their songs, I feel like my 9 years old self again.

At night when sleep becomes next to impossible, I can’t help but wonder if I am a distant relative to Dyesebel’s. There’s something quite peculiar about me that makes me want to believe I was a mermaid in past life. No, I haven’t grown fish scales all over my legs nor have I developed a fish tail for that matter. And no, I am not contemplating on building a home underwater, close to Nemo and friends.

I am referring to a condition I have yet to find a name. And I have been dealing with this for as long as i can remember. My feet always feel hot, more so when I’m about to sleep at night that the only solution would be to expose them to water and air. How? When it’s time to hit the bed – I make sure that they are wet and the electric fan’s  pointed directly at them. Otherwise, I won’t be sleeping at all. Oh, it didn’t help that I have ginger-toes, thanks to my paternal grandpa for the genes!

When the weather gets too cold, say a super typhoon is raging, or a hotel air conditioner is set at its coolest temp -  I cover my body from the waist up. I swear. The lower half has to get “enough” cold if only to put me to deep slumber. My feet, just so you’ll have a mental picture, have all its veins jutting forward. You bet how unsightly it is! What with the daily torture it gets from me. They’re not meant to be displayed. In fact, if a beauty expert would ask me right now what body part will I choose to be pretty-fied, I’d gladly volunteer them!

Back in my childhood days, I remember washing and dousing my feet with water fresh from our water pump. It doesn’t matter if I was tired from walking home to school or vice versa, or if I had just removed my shoes. Anybody in my position would be relieved of the irritatingly hot sensation. Honestly, it can drive me nuts!

I made a little research and found any of these could be the culprit. The results showed they were most probably health-related.

1. Hot feet at night is one of the symptoms of diabetic neuropathy. However, I don’t experience loss of foot sensation as is the case of those with this ailment. There are times when I get cramps though. Further, one with diabetic neuropathy can have these symptoms: tingling, numbness (severe or long-term numbness can become permanent), burning (especially in the evening), pain. Okay, so one out of four symptoms.

2. Hot feet could be a symptom of hyperthyroidism. Hyperthyroidism is the medical term to describe the signs and symptoms associated with an over production of thyroid hormone. Thyroid hormones are responsible for achieving a healthy metabolism. Bug when overproduction happens, the whole system mess up. Could it be hyperthyroidism then?

This burning sensation really gets to my nerve but the fact that it can have implications on my state of health, I might start being serious and have a visit to a doctor or something. How many of you have a similar condition? I would love to know.

Random acts of kindness can be manifested in different ways. A friend going out of her way to ease someone’s burden. Simple gestures you unconsciously do, yet brings cheer to other people. Throwing candy wrappers into proper waste baskets (especially if you’re inside my house.lol). Uttering kind words. Sharing some chocolates. Being patient.

The list, I tell you, is endless.

Over time, I was able to prove that kindness is contagious and that one generous act is enough to trigger euphoria.  Do one good deed and it magnifies tenfold. Wives are an excellent example. Keep a wife happy and the entire family does!

Actually, I heard this from Kuya Kim at Simply KC this morning: “a happy wife is a happy life”. Sounds ludicrous but that is one hundred percent true. A husband don’t have to look far and beyond to unlock the secrets to a felicitous family.

However, this post is just about the opposite. Guess who’s harboring guilt right now because of an awful deed?

I just blocked a former classmate at my Facebook today. Isn’t it so unkind of me? Most of the time I can be pikon (sore loser), my sisters and brothers, and parents can tell you that straight-face. And I am not denying it. Oh, how many times have I gotten into fight because of this trait. But that’s how I am. It will take time, effort, and will to completely erase it.

Maybe you’re interested why I blocked the poor fella. He just typed the magic phrase: ang taba mo! And there it goes, my day is spoiled.

Thanks for the honesty, but I would have appreciated it if we were close buddies. Unfortunately, you seem to have crossed the border. Plus the fact that my hormones are probably playing on me. Today. This morning!

Finally, I am reminded of this quote, Kindness, like a boomerang, always returns. Don’t worry classmate, once my head cools off — you’ll be removed from the blocked list.

As usual, I suspect this is going to be another busy day for me, although I can not say for sure whether I’m excited or not. Why does my heart felt odd,  devoid of any emotion. Have I lost my heart somewhere? Oh well, with or without my beating heart, life still has to move on.

I heard the clock strike eight, and after examining myself on the mirror one last time, I scampered to the nearest PUJ station. “Please drop  me off at CLSU”, I told the driver. My eyes surveyed what’s inside the vehicle. Nothing quite exceptional. There were students who looked as lifeless as I am, some employees (I can tell by their uniforms), and then some vendors with their produce.

Ten minutes later, I saw myself alighting the PUJ at the University’s main gate along with other passengers.

Suddenly, I changed my mind. Hey, this brain seems acting strange too. I wonder if this is the same old brain my parents bestowed me with. It felt empty.

The gate was open yet my feet seemed much to heavy for me to stride and get inside. My mind decided that I walk straight ahead, past the century-old trees along the highway. I walked ’til the school was no longer visible. How come there were fewer houses now? I mean, what’s the matter? There has to be houses here! My eyes are deceiving me too. Am I heading to Sitio Batong Buhay in Villafloresta? It sure looked like the same village I brought my entire DC 120 Class in 2006. A remote area.

I walked even farther even all I’m seeing are paved roads, not a single house or building in sight. My blouse felt soggy from combined dusts and sweat. But I kept on walking. Finally I saw a sari-sari store. “Is anybody around?” I desperately need to ask for directions. I am lost. No one seems to hear. A huge, brown dog resembling the Border Collie breed was sleeping peacefully on the store’s hallway. I didn’t know why without any warning, it went ahead and assailed me. Next thing I know, I was thrown off-balanced and it was chewing on my arm like a bubble gum. Fear is gripping me all over. I hate the sight of blood dripping on my left arm. Oh please, God. Let somebody rescue me from this monster. Help, please!

Out of nowhere, two unknown male specie came. The other one introduced himself as a healer. He produced a tissue and an oil then applied those unto my injured arm. Thankfully, I felt better. The other one kept talking about an activity we’re supposed to attend thereafter. “Be ready”, I was told. Another woman came in to the picture. The three of them led me to walk once again. Without question, I followed them.

The place we’re heading to seems familiar now. It was prairie-like on one side and with rice paddies on the other. When you drop by our place in Pili, there’s a small creek at the back of our house. If you follow that route, you will go straight to what I previously described. I don’t know why every time they tell me where to go, I often find an excuse to somehow have my own way. Another surprise character appeared, none other than my mother. She smiled at me and said, “you’re going to be baptized.”.

Sorry? But I’m already a Christian, some x years ago.

I continued to walk anyway, them (two guys, the woman, and my mother) on the prairie, and myself alone on the rice paddies. Then it happened.

I fell on the quicksand! Just at a time when my eyes were staring at the group of people wearing white and doing baptism on water. Help! I can’t breathe!

The woman told me, as if it wasn’t any problem, stick to the hard part, don’t panic and you’ll be fine.

Weeping and tired, I almost wanted to die. What an ordeal but I continued to struggle. I feel the earth is trying to swallow me whole. I held tight with all the strength I could muster, mud and all — until I was safe. Mother asked, “where’s your sandal?”, and I answered back, “Am I going to be the next?”

And it all ends there. My bad dream. What could it possibly mean?

Nostalgia for me, with all its ephemeral flashes and thrills, is a giant lifeboat people cling on to when befuddled with too much complexity. After all, humans are no immune to challenges. As you step up the ladder of maturity, baggage can weigh you down and push you to your limits. You’ll realize that growing up is an extremely overwhelming process yet leaves you no other choice. In order to be saved, a part of you refuses to let go. A part of you is stuck in that momentary brightness when your world revolves only around the mundane.

But eventually, you make peace with the fact that this world no longer puts you at its center, and that there’s more to lollipops and colorful hairpins and fancy paper dolls. So you say goodbye to childhood and innocence. But not for long. Life pierces you to the core and you find yourself tripping down memory lane.

It became my saving grace to recount my childhood days especially when my character is put to test or when I feel like jumping off  a cliff because in it,  I seem invincible. It’s true that there are people and situations capable of prodding us to think or act negatively. No matter how hard you try, obstructions will crop up like pests ready to destroy you from full blossoming. What a feat it is to be a good person! As they say, madaling maging tao pero mahirap magpakatao ( its easy to be human, but its hard to act with dignity). I believe it’s part of this universe’s design to let humans experience conflict, otherwise we would not be able to appreciate life in its fullness.

Honestly, it’s much easier to make sense of theoretical problems than understand real-life issues. Years of training allows you to be an expert in one field or discipline. But when it comes to managing personal life, not even a hundred years of existence can make you demystify life in its totality. There’s no such thing as masters or doctoral degree courses that can provide ultimate answer to every human’s unique questions.

Yet we are also gifted with free will. Viesca expounds “no one who achieves anything significant in life gives up at times when he is supposed to stretch.  Claim your birthright to become a better person with every event that comes your way.  In those moments when things seem too complicated to understand, be thankful.”

We can create something from nothing, turn crap into a thing of value. In a sense, we all can be alchemists of destiny. Instead of relying on nostalgia which is more often than not, erroneous and escapist – we can man our future by living today and savouring the present!

I slept and woke up to find January’s gone! Am I in another timezone? Days pass by in a blink; although I’d like to think this is a good thing. One is spared from dwelling too much on a not-so-pleasant situation.

It’s still cold at dawn but mostly, cold days have started to compete with warm days. Mornings are made of lovely kaleidoscopic sun rays creeping through my windows. The market where I buy our weekly supplies bursts with an almost summer-y color as it displays baskets after baskets of ripe mangoes, pineapples, watermelons, star apples, and oranges. I bet in a few more days – flowers in different packages will be all over department stores and supermarkets.

In the same way, kite makers have probably began designing guryons, tsapi-tsapis, and boka-bokas. These are popular types of kites well-loved by both young and old. With abundant winds in our Philippine summer sky, what’ll be more perfect for kite-flying?

February, needless to say, is such a fine month. After the pocket-emptying Yuletide, here comes another season to spread happiness around us.

And since it’s almost Valentines Day, I hope it would not sound “cheesy” to talk about courtship that has become underrated and predictable these days. What with the rapid evolution of gadgets and communication devices that made everything possible in a relatively short period of time. An SMS away and you’ll have a taste of what its like to be “in a relationship”.

But have you ever wondered what its like during the old days? Our folks didn’t live long enough to tell us their love stories during the pre-war era. I look up my handy Pinoy Almanac which describe in pictures courtship talk via handkerchief and I find them soooo cute.  Here, take a peek:

If a lady presses a handkerchief on her lips, it means she agrees to exchange letters with a man.

A handkerchief pressed on the eyes means she’s lonely.

When a lady presses her handkerchief on both cheeks, it means she loves you!

When  the handkerchief is pressed on the right cheek, it means yes.

A handkerchief pressed on the left cheek means no.

A handkerchief pressed on the shoulder means ‘follow me’

A handkerchief knotted on the fingers means “I am married/taken. Sorry”

A Facebook friend’s status reads: “He who breaks a resolution is a weakling; He who makes one is a fool. (FM Knowles)”. Somehow it made me a bit hesitant to do a blog entry on this.

A resolution, most of the time is like a wick in an oil lamp, burning passionately at the beginning, then fading off quickly afterwards. Nevertheless, it doesn’t make one less of a person to (still) practice writing a resolution, if only to build some sense of perspective.

A New Year’s resolution represents a “commitment”. Wikipedia points to it as something that most of us make to a project which may be long term or short term. It can also mean the reforming of a habit, often a lifestyle change that is generally interpreted as advantageous.

As the calendar marks the unfolding of a new year, we often come up with numerous lists as a way to start the year right. However, the very act of enumerating too much makes it harder to accomplish, thus rendering itself irrelevant. It takes a lot of hard work to stick and make things happen as planned. In my experience, it’s another story. I don’t know why. Maybe because of my rebellious nature. I seem to defy even my own rules. Does that make my resolutions irrelevant then? Obviously.

But I really would want to revive a few things about myself. These made me appreciate my existence better. Maybe if I go back to doing them in the coming years, I’d find more essence in this world. Zenhabits provided practical tips and guide on how to stick to a new year’s resolution. Accordingly, you must limit your resolution to six (6 changes method), meaning you have to pick ONLY six habits that you deem doable.

This year, I would love to:

1. Revive my knowledge on Pranic Healing. Some time ago, hubby and I attended a workshop on pranic healing, an ancient method of energy healing introduced by Master Choa Kuk Sui. A holistic form of healing, pranic does not rely on drugs but on raw energies around us. Through the years, my husband continuously applied this to our children and it has done wonders. They instantly felt relieved after swipes of negative energies are released. I, on the other hand, halted after I had a job in Manila. My hectic work schedule and shaky moods prevented me from doing so. One has to be emotionally stable to be able to do pranic healing. I hope this year I can do it again.

2. Go places. I used to travel as part of my job, but it was spent mostly on the ‘work’ aspect. I wish I had documented them and squeezed a little time to go to the nearest tourist spots. Well it isn’t too late yet.

3. Work with the youth. I find their vigor and energy monumentally refreshing and contagious. When I am with young people (as with my students) its as if I’m living each day like it was my FIRST. As opposed to the adage that goes ‘live each day as if it were your last’, the former makes you see each day free from all the pain, heartache and disappointments that can weigh you down.

4. Brush up on my language skills. Hmmm, this one is self-explanatory.

5. Save. Impulsive buyer that I am, saving is non-existent in my vocabulary. I practically am mad at money! You see, they don’t stay long in my wallet. I wonder why. Haha. Oh well, that maybe because of my husband who’s exactly my opposite. I better learn from him this time.

6. Improve sleep habits. These days I hardly sleep at all. My eyebags have started to become maletas (travelling bags!), good enough to house a week-worth of travel clothes. To do that means fixing my erratic schedule first. Battle cry should be sleep early, wake up early!

Have a Prosperous 2010 folks!

When was the last time you ever wrote a wish list? I do mine annually. In fact, I have a collection of planners (from Good Housekeeping December issues) that bore all such lists. The oldest GH planner I have was acquired around eight years ago.

Funny but I never tire of writing them down though the probability of them happening sometimes seemed impossible. However, its funnier to discover that they do come true. Law of attraction at work, I guess. Lists are like magnets. You somehow direct what you want towards your way.

This time, I really really am wanting to have these:

1. a 5-speed electric hand mixer.  We are a sweets-loving bunch here. I mean, the kids and myself. With a handy mixer — whipping recipes can be a breeze. I always get frustrated when I prepare leche flan and the result resembles a “bibingka”!

2. a set of champagne glasses. Comes handy whenever we feel like being romantic, which we are most of the time. Ehem. Pour the wine, honey…

3. tiered trays. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not pursuing a career in catering business. I only find tiered trays lovely for deserts and appetizers.

4. turbo broiler. Actually, I was inspired to have one after seeing my mother prepare almost all kinds of food: chicken, pork, cake, suman. Amazing huh. Plus I have read somewhere that its a must for all Pinoy households.

5. chip for my magic sing. Need I say that I love singing to the hilt? Most of the songs contained in my magic sing are unfamiliar. There are only a handful that I know and I’m afraid the neighborhood are already raising their eyebrows every time my “sumpong” to have a concert rears its head. I can almost hear them say “Beetles again?” or “Mariah Carey na naman?”.

Thats all.

What a year 2009 was for Filipinos!

It’s as if all the constellations conspired to mess up and displace balance and harmony in this world. Like everyone else, I am fervently wishing for this chaos to be over soon. However much you decide to be positive — when you witness all these kinds of violence, there’s no way you can attain serenity. The recent Maguindanao carnage is a fitting culmination to what this country is experiencing. When you look back, 2009 has  represented nothing but the dismal spectre of death.  Its harrowing presence chills my spine. Give me some good reasons to be optimistic about. Oh sure, call me pessimistic. Tell me I’m looking at it half-empty and not half full. But how else can you explain this year’s ghoulish state? Oh yeah, there were certainly big-time awards gotten by Pinoys here and there (Brillantes,  Penaflorida, etc) and it makes me so proud, but sadly they appear irrelevant once you factor in all the bad-lucks that befell this country.

What do you think 2009 is?

2009 is Ondoy and Pepeng. 2009 is abducted journalists and punished civil society advocates. 2009 is economic recession. 2009 is food shortage. 2009 is poverty multiplied ten times. 2009 is controversial electioneering. 2009 is AH1N1 virus.

But the most heartbreaking (and perhaps the ghastliest) was all over the news last Monday — the election-related Maguindanao massacre that ended the lives of some fifty lawyers, journalists, politicians, and civilians in Mindanao. This time, no one can point to it as mere sensational news casting or news writing. This is reality. This is OUR reality. How can our leaders sleep in peace knowing that lurking out there are demons ready to kill at the slightest sign of opposition? Do they even know what conscience means? Why do they have to treat the perpetrators like kings and leave the victims clamoring for justice? These killers are no humans! I thought such forms of power-tripping monsters only happen in movies. What’s missing though are real leaders and policy-makers who can put this pandemonium to rest. In that analogy, movies become superior.

Looking at the excavated cadavers, I felt how it must have been with the families they left, or the many other people who will benefit from their good will in the future. I may not have blood-relations with the victims. But we all share in the blood that runs within our veins. We are, after all, Filipinos. Let this chaos end. Please, let there be no more of these misfortunes in 2010.

Ang showbiz-showbiz!

That’s hubby talking to himself. I wonder if he’s referring to the current Manny-Krista tryst and Jinkee’s crying scenes everyone’s been buzzing about or if he’s figuring out what to type on his status update . Knowing his calibre though, most likely the answer is none of the above. Ask, I dared not to. There’s no point in questioning every time our thoughts aren’t on the same frequency level. We’re entitled to our own privacy, right?

Through time, I have learned not to be critical when he sometimes quarrel, debate, or accede to the other HIM. I’ve only known that he does that after our courtship stage. Was I surprised? Definitely not. Up until today, I am puzzled NOT by his behavior but by the  gray matter inside his huge head. Me thinks his self-talking has a direct correlation with his creative side. His muse needs no further tapping, unlike mine that’s infernally difficult to conjure. Darn, he can sit down in less than 30 minutes and creativity flows in his head down to his fingers, pounding on the keyboard. Just…like…that!

Its easy to brand or label such behavior as disturbing, something irritating or embarrassing. Pathological even! But for me what matters is the fact that he’s successfully able to vault aside issues and problems, domestic or career-wise. Talking to self is simply thinking out loud. People do that. But the difference, I guess, is the extent to which self-talking is done  and to what is being talked about. Some experts say this is also a way for people to organize their thoughts. There are also certain claims this may be the highest form of intelligence. Self-talking or not — he’s okay. I mean, he doesn’t get weird looks when he’s walking around!

As for myself, I also have my own eccentric behavior. Growing up has cloaked some of them or was underplayed to the point of non-recognizance. Not when I saw them in my daughter, who didn’t even know I did what she does now. One time I saw my daughter writing something on air. I was amazed because I used to behave that way. The wind knew all my childish wish, joys, pains, and desires. It became my journal. But I lost the habit after stepping in high school and college. Writing on air, like hubby’s self-talking was my way to unleash creativity. No wonder I can craft poems and sketch better as a kid.

By the way, I found some tips on how a creative mindset is nurtured (from the Scientific American Mind magazine, Vol. 16, No. 1; 2005)

Wonderment. Try to regain a spirit of discovery, a childlike curiosity about the world. And question understandings that others considers “obvious”.

Motivation. As soon as a spark of interest arises in something, follow it.

Intellectual courage. Strive to think outside accepted principles and habitual perspectives such as “we’ve always done it that way”.

Relaxation. Take the time to daydream and ponder, because that is often when the best ideas arise. Look for ways to relax and consciously put them into practice!