Happiness is not an Ending

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The pursuit of happiness.  I have come across this phrase quite a number of times.  And I wonder why.

Is it because most people think of happiness as something so elusive?  Many times, I have heard and read about people wanting to be happy.  Some even list it as their ultimate goal.

But I disagree.  As I have always said, happiness is a choice, albeit a more difficult one.  Happiness is also not a goal or an ending.  It is something we can achieve even while we embark on this adventure we call life.  We don't live because we want to be happy in the end.  We are happy simply because we live. 

As I celebrated my twenty-eight birthday recently, I give thanks to God for this wonderful blessing of my life.  And I give thanks too to and for my loved ones and friends - these people who add vibrancy to my already great life with the personal touch they put to it. 

Happiness is not an ending.  Surrounded by my loved ones, it is something I have always had.  It is something my parents showered me with from the time I was conceived.  It is something I see in their proud eyes and is also reflected in mine .  It is something I feel every time the family gets together.  Something my friends and I also share.

Happiness is the celebration of the person that I am.  It is reveling in my individuality and the appreciation I have for what I have been blessed with. 

Happiness is also the security I have in my rewarding career.  It is also in being able to travel and shop and indulge in my favorite food.  In being lost in a good book.  Or music.  Or being entertained by a movie.

But happiness is not just about the good things in life.  Happiness is also knowing that my tears of sorrow or pain have sprouted lessons that now guide my present and future.  It is growing up.

As I look back on what was and look forward to what will be, I remember the many happy birthdays I have been greeted with these past twenty-eight years.  

And I smile because indeed, it is a happy life I live.

God Takes

I love how Facebook now enables us to go on a trip down memory lane by posting our status messages a year ago.  It's very helpful for me because sometimes, I just randomly share my thoughts and feelings on Facebook (and also on Yahoo Messenger) and forget to share them in my blog.  Below is my status message a year ago, which again reminded me to let go and let God.

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Heaven sends and heaven takes but come what may, I believe in You, my Lord and my God, for your ways are different from ours... 

... and so, I surrender - with no fear - just with trust and faith and obedience. Take away what is good so you may give me what is best.

The Gift of the Present

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The greatest gift of the present is that it is a constant reminder of God's never ending love for and faith in us.  We are blessed with another day because He wants us to cherish yesterday as we grow from it.  So if you've been hurt in the past, let go.  Today is a new day.  God has given you a chance to heal.  To make up for your wrongs.  To be happy.  To love again.  To live life to the fullest.  Seize this day! 

Courage

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It takes courage to admit what I do not know. But this admission is the first step to learning.

It takes courage to admit that I am scared. But this fear starts to dissipate the moment I acknowledge my fear. For the greatest of fears is borne from not knowing. And courage is knowing and confronting that fear.

It takes courage to admit that I am wrong. But something or someone cannot be corrected unless it has been acknowledged that a mistake was made. And being wrong sometimes paves the way to doing what is right.

It takes courage to admit that I am helpless in some ways and in need of help. But it is through this that I learn how to value other people. We are interconnected individuals and I cannot exist as one.

It takes courage to admit that I am proud. But this is my first step to humility for the height of arrogance is when one is too full of himself and yet too proud to admit it. And this I refuse to happen to me.

It takes courage to embrace change. For comfort zones are called such because there is security in what is certain. But it is when we let go of our certainties that we open ourselves to possibilities.

It takes courage to trust. To love. To hope. To live. For life will always be wrought with risks and challenges. And courage is about conquering these.

It takes courage to admit that I lost. In my struggles to triumph over love and life’s challenges, I sometimes stumble and fall. But it is in these losses that I learn that courage is also about trusting in my self even when things become overwhelming. It is proving my resilience to the world.

It takes courage to be different. But courage is basically about finding that strength to go against the tide and just revel on being one’s own self regardless of what other people say.

Courage. It is what makes the vulnerable invulnerable.

Expecting the Worst

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Gil Grissom: It is interesting to me how you always expect the worst.

Catherine Willows: You see that way, I’m never disappointed, and sometimes, I’m nicely surprised.

I was six. I wanted a puppy for Christmas. I did not get it and I was hurt. The fact that I expected my Christmas present to be a puppy and get dresses, toys and money instead made the disillusionment even more painful.

I was ten. I was reading Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame and expecting a good ending for Esmeralda and Quasimodo. Their death thus unnerved me. I was disappointed.

I was sixteen. I thought the friendship I was sharing with a really nice guy would blossom into something more. It did not and thinking about it later only brought me sadness.

I was eighteen and a junior in college. I studied so hard for an exam. I pored over every book we used as reference, even did further readings and research in the school library and on the Internet. I fervently hoped I would pass. Days after, the results were posted in the college’s bulletin. I did not pass.

The list of my hopes and expectations getting reduced to painful losses is innumerable. Hearing the above verbal exchange from two of CSI’s main characters thus made me think. Will it be better if I align my way of thinking with Catherine’s? Will it spare me from needless disappointments and hurt?

In college, one of my closest friends once told me that I am a hopeless optimist. I laughed. She then added half-jokingly that hopefuls are often fools.

Is it foolishness to believe that things will turn out good? Do pessimists fare better in this world?

I remember the time when I expected the worst of something. It was when I took the UPCAT (University of the Philippines College Admission Test). A couple of weeks before the results were out, I was already conditioning my mind that I failed and bracing myself for it. UP, after all, is the country’s premier and most sought after university that getting in is considered a rare privilege. It was thus a very pleasant surprise to find out that I passed. It was so unexpected it was exhilarating, especially when it dawned on me that I did not just pass. I made it to Diliman, UP’s flagship campus.

I keep on thinking of the reasons why I should shed my optimism. And I have just decided that I will never let go of it. Why? Because it is my optimism that has saved me countless of times from being devoured by life’s negativities. It is my shield, the one thing that keeps me from turning into a completely bitter cynic and saves me even from my own self.

Yes, I get hurt. And disappointed. I am sometimes frustrated because things do not come out as I hope. Because I expect better results but have gotten something less. But you know what, I think it’s better this way as it makes me a believer. In myself. In other people. In the nobility of the human spirit and man’s capacity for faring better when confronted with the harsh realities of life.

I expect to succeed and I sometimes fail. But the reason why I expect to succeed is the thought that I am up to the challenge. I do not expect to lose as I know I can and will do better.

When people have done something bad, I do not automatically assume the worst of them because I give them better credit. I trust their capacity to do well and be good. Certain circumstances may drive some people to do something bad or be bad but I refuse to let this handful of people taint my faith in the entire humanity of my race.

Things sometimes do not go as planned or hoped for but in these instances, I learn patience, flexibility and resilience. I learn to appreciate blessings in disguise and value them for what they are.

And in times when things are at their worst and I am on the verge of giving up, it is my optimism that makes me see beyond life’s current difficulties. That I may strive to do better, be better. It is this optimism that cloaks me in courage so I will come out triumphant in life’s challenges.

Optimists are not fools. Fools are those who opt to give up without a fight. They are the ones who wallow in feelings of despair instead of finding the courage within their selves to bounce back higher despite stumbling down many times. Fools are those who chose to end their lives just because they thought there was nothing else that could be done. That they had seen the end of days and there was no hope left for them.

I am no fool. And so come what may, I will always choose to see the brighter side of life.

God Listens

Have you ever wondered if God indeed listens to you? You who’s just but one person in this world of billions of people?

Have you ever cried out so loud to Him only to hear deafening silence?

He said You are special to Him. For after all, He “has written your name in the palm of His hands,” right? But didn’t He say that to practically each one of us?

What is it with your cries that will make Him gravitate to you when each day, He has tons of prayers to listen to? And countless of needs to address?

The good news is that God does listen. Intently. And the better news is that His listening style is as His love is – personal. When He listens, He does so in a way that our utmost good is looked after.

God listens to the fervent prayer of the faithful that makes these faithful yearn to be closer to Him. To be like Him.

God listens to the half-hearted prayers of those who have not yet fully entrusted their lives to Him that their faith in Him will grow stronger each day.

God even listens to non-believers that they may be enlightened. And if they do not want to accept Him as their Savior, He patiently waits and loves them just the same.

God listens to the prayers of the elderly. And that of a child’s. He listens to our desperate pleas, even to our words of doubt and anger as much as he listens to our prayers of gratitude and hope. He even hears our unspoken prayers, even knows those that we are yet to pray for.

God listens. To me. To you. In a world of billions of people, you matter. Each one of us does. He even “calls each one of us by name.”

In times when we think there is silence, it is because it is in the silence of our hearts that He speaks the loudest. God does not have to do all the listening. Sometimes, we need to shut up so we can hear Him speak.

In times when we think our prayers go unanswered, it is because God has something better in store for us. Or it is because He knows the difference between a need and a want. And He wants us to learn this difference.

For everything there is a season. And for each prayer, there is an answer. It may be a “yes,” for He knows we really need it - now. Or it may be a “no,” for He wants to teach us that loving a person sometimes entails saying no to a loved one for something that is obviously not for his or her own good. Or it may be a “later,” that we may learn patience and to trust Him more in times when it seems to us that He is unreachable.

God listens. And whatever His answer is, listen – with faith, with trust.

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Scar(R)ed No More

I have this perennial fear of failing. For as long as I can remember, I have always been afraid to fail not just myself but other people as well, especially my loved ones.

I know there are times when failing is inevitable. It is simply a part of life. Reality would not have been clearly delineated if we do not experience failure at some points of our lives. But what I really fear is the disappointment my failure would cause to anyone. It pains me to be disappointed by the people I believe in and so I try so hard, do my best, to live up to their expectations, no matter how high these expectations are. Or sometimes, how silly.

When I was in high school, one of my life’s utmost humiliations transpired. You see, I was a consistent honor student since my nursery years. I always did well in school, even excelled in almost all my subjects, except Math. I always belonged to the top section but this was only until my 3rd year in high school as in my senior year, I was put in section 2. I was aghast. Mad, even. Mad is actually an understatement as in a phase of raging hormones and blatant rebellion, hate prevailed. I hated the school’s system. And some teachers, especially the principal. I hated some classmates. Hated almost everyone, even my family. But most of all, I hated myself. I hated and blamed myself for letting a lot of people down. For letting myself down.

The event left me scarred. And scared. Of failing. Of it happening again. Of disappointing people. And then hating and blaming myself for it. From then on, I did my damnedest to always excel in everything. If prior to the incident I was already an achiever, after it, I was more so it was scary as I seemed to be obsessed with always coming out a winner in each and every event I allowed myself to participate in. Allowed being the operative word as from then on, I took only calculated risks. I was so hellbent on achieving success that if there were what they call the cream of the crop, I wanted to be the cream of the cream of the crop.

Looking deep down into myself, I realized that aside from not wanting to disappoint my loved ones, I fear failure because I equated success with people’s capacity for love. I thought that if I fail, my loved ones will love me less. Or that my peers will not like me just as much. Such utterly stupid rationale. Because for these past years, no matter how many times I have been let down by my loved ones, I love them just the same. I even love them more in their times of failure as in those times, they are in utmost need of love. Of the reassurance that their worth does not diminish when life deals them with one of its blows. That they are loved and accepted as they are, no matter what, come what may.

Disappointments and failure do hurt. But in the past years, I learned that like failure, disappointment is as much a part of our lives as breathing. That for each endeavor we take, there is the possibility of failing and feelings of disappointment are just but natural reaction to it. Life is a gamble and if we do not make the first move of taking the risk, we cannot win.

I am no longer bound by failure’s ties. I expunge any fear I have of it. It may have left its scars on me but the scars are gradually healing.

I am also no longer scared. I am now free. From this point on, I will allow myself the total freedom to stumble once in a while. Each experience has its lessons for us and in some cases, failure is often the best teacher.

I embrace any possibility of failure. For I am scarred with and scared of it no more.

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Random Thoughts - # 9

Prayer

Whenever we pray, we exhale our human spirit and inhale God's spirit. In so doing, we let go of our own wills and desires and have His wills and desires for us known - His wills and desires that are always for our best.

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Of letting people be...

How come we always put restrictions on other people simply because these restrictions have been somehow imposed on ourselves? We very well know that we have no right. And yet, we keep on expecting people to be like us, to do exactly the same things we do. We keep on hoping they would change for us, to live their lives like we do ours. Or at least try to.

When I was in college, I had a friend who was my sounding board. Almost every week, I would see her and tell her my frustrations - about how a groupmate could not be depended on because her research always came out sloppy... About how I got mad at another friend because she was late and the always punctual me waited for a long time... I would nag this sounding-board friend about how most people could not understand me. And I too could not understand them. I would wonder how they could allow themselves to be careless. Or to not choose to be reliable and dependable... how they could allow mediocrity to rule their lives thus leaving people like me no choice but to make up for their ineptness.

One day, after an especially frustrating day for me, my friend gave me the answer to all my questions. And more. She simply said, "Because they are not you, Lai."

Struck, I just stared at my friend. "I am not going to say anything anymore," she said. "Just ponder on those words."

Later, alone in the confines of my room, I got my pen and my journal. I wanted to write. I badly needed to write. I needed answers. But nothing came to mind. And my friend's words kept playing inside my head.

Because they are not you... Because they are not you... Because they are not you... because they are not you...

I knew I wasn't confused. I knew exactly what my friend meant. I was just in denial - for so long a time. Pondering on her words, something I read once also came back to mind. "Great athletes make lousy coaches."

Admittedly, I had it easy all my life. I remember acing quizzes and exams even when I did not study hard. I excelled in almost anything. I was what they say the perennial achiever. Having shown such abilities, I thus lived a life of expectations. I grew up with an acute sense of people always expecting me to succeed in any endeavor I take... And I imposed the same expectations on people I came across with.

I would think: If I can be on time, why can't she be? If I can make my research or papers detailed, how come hers are not? Why can't they be as meticulous? How come I am always the one who is expected to do this and that?

The answer? It's all on the I. The Me. And the mine... I am me. And s/he is the person that s/he is.

And in some endeavors, it is me who does the work because I can. And s/he cannot.

Can I sing well? I cannot. Can I solve complicated Math problems? I cannot. Can I dance or act or paint? I cannot. And the list goes on and on...

Each one has his or her level. Thus I should not make them perform on my level. Each one has his and her own personality. And I have mine. And this personality makes us who we are. It defines our differences. And it is these differences that make us unique from others.

Lastly, each person is his and her own self. Thus I have no right to change a person just as no one has the right to make me conform to the person that they want or expect me to be.

And so, just as I yearn for people to let me be, I give them the same freedom to be themselves.

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Acceptance

I am living in a society where the standards of beauty have already been laid. To be beautiful means to have white complexion, a pointed nose and other mestiza-like features. Consumed with vanity, when I sometimes look at myself in the mirror, I would wish to have more attractive features.

When I was a kid, I was teased for being “negra” because of my complexion. With cousins who are all mestiza-looking, I was the odd one out. Next to these paternal cousins, I thought I looked like their house helper. People’s teasing and jokes, no matter how well-meaning they may be, hurt. My self esteem was crushed. Thus, I disliked my morena (light brown) coloring as I was growing up.

I also sometimes wish to be someone I am not. I would wish I were better at singing and dancing. I would wish I knew how to draw and paint or to play any sport magnificently. I also would wish I were good in Math and with anything that has to do with numbers.

I remember there were also times when I would wish for another family. Whenever daddy or mommy hurt me deeply with their words or if they won’t let me do or have what I want, I sometimes would mentally wish for a different set of parents. I have my ideals. And so I wish for people and things in my life to be in perfect accord with my ideal family or with the ideal self that I want them to have. I want them to be what I want them to be.

There are also events in my life I’d rather forget. Oh, how many times have I wished to turn back time to change the course of some events or to have an entirely different set of circumstances. But of course, I can not do that. I can not turn back time. It’s over and done with. And so what I did was to deny - to deny that those happened to me. I can not accept that my 4th year high school experience did happen to me. It is too painful, too humiliating. And so for years I buried it in the abyss of my mind.

So many wishes have I got that are contrary to what I have. So many ideals and perfect things in my mind. Comparisons have gotten me nowhere. It’s either I become proud because I, for example, got a better grade than what a classmate got or, sad because someone got a grade higher than mine. Too busy was I looking for what others have that I do not have that I failed to see my own blessings.

God is always with me. In times when I struggled with people’s hurtful words, He was there to soothe the pain. In times when even I could not like my self, He was there loving me at my most unlovable. His were the eyes seeing me through my worst times. His was the presence giving me strength and comfort when I was so weak and was badly needing comfort and assurance. His was the heart so pure, constant in His love for me even if I had wandered far away from Him many times in my life. Oh how many times have I doubted Him. There even was a point in my life when I was angry at Him for I thought He had forsaken me. Yet, He was full of love and understanding. He was patient. He waited for me to mellow and mature and, when it was the right time, to grant me the grace to enable me to understand and accept everything He has handed to me with great love and generosity.

Now is that right time, Lord. I gratefully and lovingly accept everything that I am and everything that I have. I accept my past as it is - all the smiles, the laughter, the tears, the pains and the struggles. I accept everything as parts of your great plan for me. I am who I am now because of my history. I also accept people and things in my life as they are, not as I want them to be. Each of us is unique, differently made and differently gifted. I can not have everything I want nor can anyone. You as our Great Creator knows us by heart. You know each one of us inside and out. You know and gives us only what is best for us. If we do not have it, we don’t need it.

I pray that you will grant me the graces I need to be always grateful and faithful to You. I may be teased and given names but I ask You to give me the courage I need to stand up to them. Their words won’t harm me. They can think of me as whatever they perceive me to be. They can name me with whatever names but I can not care less about them. What matters most is how You name me, how you see me. I am Your child. I am who and what You created me to be. You love me as I am and so I lovingly accept myself, all that I am and all that I have - fully and gratefully.

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written when I was twenty.

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Random Thoughts - # 5

Doubt

Doubt if you must but be sure that your doubt will bring you awakening. Doubt is needed to achieve faith and when you have grasped true faith, be faithful to it.




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For my Beloved Friend

You have told me a lot of times that love is a gift... and I have believed you. You are a gift to me, a very precious one for to me, you are love – the very person who, being love, gives me love in its purest and sweetest form.

Love is truth. Truth, bliss. In loving each other, life is at its most colorful... in its happiest... in its peak. A simple thing is made special because the two of us share it.

Love is freedom - the beauty grasped in the conviction that when we are together, each can be just her true self, with no masks or protective barriers for we know that each is accepted and loved by the other for who and what that self really is. We have differences, yes, but these differences more so deepen our understanding of and our love for each other.

Love is growth. Each of us allows ourselves the space to grow continuously as we deepen our friendship. You grow, I grow. One wonderful thing though about our growth is that we can grow individually without drifting apart from each other.

Love is totality. We either give the best in us and give our all or give nothing at all. Love is also totality in the sense that when we love, we love the person as a whole, along with her human failures. We do not love each other only for our good attributes for if we do that, we are not loving but just admiring.

Love is blind, the cliché goes but ours is not. We see our faults and weaknesses but we choose to see beyond those. We do not dwell on our imperfections. No one is perfect, anyway. Our weaknesses are known to and accepted us part of each other but when you motivate me to know and face my weaknesses, you actually are giving me the strength to overcome those same weaknesses and the inspiration to rise above my human limitations. Motivate is the operative word - gentle and nurturing. We also motivate each other to change for the better, possibly to become the best that each can be. Again, motivate, not force, is the word - gentle and nurturing, as we are to each other.

Love is being. That’s the utmost lesson your good heart taught me. We are to be love incarnate. We are to be its essence, its epitome. We cannot love without being love ourselves.

Love is a mystery... Too deep to fathom and too powerful a word to be fully defined. It is beyond reason. Countless times have I wondered as I do now of how we became friends or when everything had started. I have come up not with answers but with even more questions to answer. For instance, was it you who initiated our friendship? I used to evade you like the plague, having heard many negative things about you, even having witnessed myself your moodiness. How come we became friends, really good friends? Is there such a thing as a destined friendship? I have asked myself those nagging questions a lot of times. I have pondered... and mused... but I have gotten only splitting headaches. It is until now that I learned this: There are things in life that are beyond reason. Ponder not for even the most intellectual and genius of us will never really fathom the wonders that only God knows of. Just let some things be what they are – puzzles and mysteries. And since our friendship is such, I will leave it at that.

Love is what you continuously share with me. Not just any love but a true, life-changing one. And so now, I want to thank you, my beloved friend – thank you for making me see things at a different perspective. Thank you for making me live my life as I have never lived it. Most of all, thank you for your love.

From my heart, thank you.

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Looking back

I recently turned twenty-five. Twenty-five years of living life. With a purpose. With joy. With as much zest as I can put in it.

I have this habit of doing a once-in-a-year cleanup of my treasure box. In it are my journals, letters and cards and other stuff. It’s a treasure trove that holds my important keepsakes and whose contents never fail to bring back smiles, sometimes tears and always, fondness.

And as I rummaged through my treasure box, I found this entry from one of my journals.

As I go through the events of my life, I realized that God was in each event I have had. With every smile, with every laughter, even with every tear and every pain, God was there. God was shaping me and my life, molding all that I was to become what I am now... to gradually become what He wanted me to be...

I am grateful to God for His gifts. I thank Him for each precious memory. Just remembering the happy moments of my life is a wonderful experience. Until now, just the memory of each moment still brings me smiles and warmth. God was in each happy moment but He was not just a spectator. He was the Great Planner and the Guiding Light of the events of my life. I may not be aware then of the wonders He was making in my life but now the joys I felt then are doubled for I know God was taking care of me.

Of course, there were times when I thought He was not with me. There were times I questioned if He was listening to me... if He was there for if He was, why was I in pain. There were times when I doubted Him. I thought He didn’t care. I thought He was neglecting me and my cries. But now, as I look back, I realized He never left me. I was able to surpass each trial because of Him and the graces He gave me. In the first place, He never did give me a trial too big for me to face and conquer. With every pain, I grew. With every doubt, my faith intensified. With every temptation, my resolve strengthened. With every acknowledgment of my weakness, He lifted me up.

And so I thank Him now for each trial and difficulties that ever came my way. Now I know why there were sacrifices and suffering in my life – with my struggles came a better me.

God was, is and will be in every phase of my life. He was with me from the moment He planned of creating me. He has already written my biography with His own mighty hand.

I may not know what lies ahead of me but I need not be afraid – God is there. He is here. God is in me. He is taking care of me. I am His child. He loves me. He knows and will give me what is best for me.

Life has its uncertainties but I have my assurance in my God.

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From my journal entry, written in 2003

Life is too short...

Life is too short for me to live it recklessly, thoughtlessly or wastefully. Thus, in each and every day of my life, I find numerous reasons to live life meaningfully and to its full extent.

Life is too short for me to procrastinate. When an opportunity comes knocking on my door, I embrace it if it is worth embracing. As much as possible, I do not leave any word unsaid or deed undone.

Life is too short for me to live it regretting my wrongdoings. The past is over and done with and so I must not dwell on but learn from it. What matters is the gift of the present, the hope of the future.

Life is too short for me to live it in sorrow, bitterness or anger. Happiness is a choice. I grieve when necessary but knowing that the world will never stop for my grief, I move on. Anger is self-destructive. It shortens one’s life span.

Life is too short to take short cuts. I live each day feeling each emotion fully and savoring each experience passionately no matter how mundane it may seem. It is what I do with it that makes each experience extraordinary.

Life is too short to hasten its pace. Thus, I let things run their natural course. Forcing things to happen destroys the very existence of surprises. There is beauty in the spontaneity of things. Patience pays.

Life is too short and so I make the most of it.

Woman & Beauty

It is not beauty that defines a woman

because it is she who defines beauty.
Beauty is being contented with and accepting of
who and what she really is.
It is the strength in her character,
the confidence, optimism, joy and hope
that she has in the way she lives life to the fullest.
It is in her warm, caring & nurturing nature,
In the way she is a “mother” to all.


A woman is not perfect
and she does not try to be
But her beauty is best seen
in how she carries herself in trying, difficult times.
A woman’s beauty is in her courage & bravery
to fight life’s challenges head on.
It is in her being aware of her inadequacies
and in knowing full well
How to make the most of them.


A woman is beautiful
and her only affirmation in that
is her belief in herself.

Bittersweet

The flavor of my youth is bittersweet. Its joys, pains, adventures, trials, conquests and awakenings will never be forgotten.

Youth was that time when I first felt my heart flutter like a butterfly in flight. It was a feeling which I mistook for love and so it was at this stage in my life when I learned that love isn't about getting all gooey inside and giddy on the outside but is more a commitment than a feeling.

True love knocked on my door all right but I was too young then to take things seriously. In my youth, I learned to lose someone I should have kept and cherished.

Youth was a time of friendship. Of opening myself to someone and sharing laughter and tears. It was also a time of secrets betrayed and trusts broken. Most girls were just too chatty, I learned, and some could be mean without even trying.

Youth was that time too when I wanted to be independent but my parents thought I was rushing things up. The time when I desperately wanted to be free but got bound by my parents' rules. It was that time when reasoning with them could be (mis)construed as talking and fighting back and was deemed being disrespectful when all I really wanted was to be heard.

Youth was that time when I wanted to define myself only to find things that I did not like about me. Of looking for my identity but ending up trying to be like everybody else to fit in.

Youth was basking in the truth that I was misunderstood even when I really wasn't. It gave me the "license" to be angst-ridden no doubt fueled by my passion for the songs of Alanis, Gin Blossoms, The Cranberries, Nirvana and Oasis. I even thought their songs are about and for me. Ha!

Youth was knowing who I was and what I was capable of. And wasn't. It was standing at the crossroads of my life and knowing full well that whatever choice I would make would define the person that I would become.

In my youth, I was confronted with harsh realities and bitter truths. Rude awakenings were bitter pills to swallow but these eventually made me feel better about myself and the world.

Random Thoughts - # 2

The most painful experiences come not from sufferings and hardships but from our stubborn resistance to them and our insistence to be always in control of all things and people in our lives...

Detachment

Detachment is not to deny but to give life. Not to disintegrate with others but to be one with one's self and be a part of the different wholes we belong to. Not to refuse love but to love truly and fully...

Happy Endings

Do you believe in happy endings? Jane Smith in the movie Mr. & Mrs. Smith succinctly said, "Happy endings are stories that just haven't finished yet."

I am melancholic. A cynic too but not that much of a cynic. I believe in happy endings but am aware too of life's harsh realities. Still, I hope for happy endings. I just can't help it. Maybe I am just a hopeless idealist, an incurable optimist.

Let the ocean toss its biggest waves. My boat will go on sailing. I will hold on to my faith. To my belief that I will finish the race triumphantly. Nothing and no one will hold me back. Unless I let them, that is.

My life is not yet over. And contrary to what Jane Smith said, mine won't be a sad finish. My story won't end until I give it the best and happiest of endings.

Life is a choice. So is happiness. Thus I choose to live life to the fullest.

Carpe diem!

Cemetery of Negativism

In Camp John Hay in Baguio where I recently went to, there is a cemetery unlike any other cemeteries in the world. It is called the cemetery of negativism.

History dates it back to the early 1980s when base commander John Hightower asked camp employees to think of the negative thoughts and attitudes that inhibit them from being productive and efficient at work then to symbolically bury them all there (http://www.cjhhotels.com/dev_facilities_landmark.htm)

Today being the end of the year 2007, I decided that it is just fitting to write about my own negative thoughts and attitudes and bury them as I say hello to a better, if not the best me for the Year 2008.

It’s funny that if I am to bury my negativisms, I should have to at least own a whole mountain and that’s saying just how many negative thoughts, feelings and attitudes I need to bury!

My pride comes first. I have such tons of pride. It is very hard for me to accept defeat, to admit that I am wrong and to say sorry. Confident about myself and aware of my place in the world (being a perennial achiever & a success in everything I do), I sometimes think too highly of myself and look down on others I perceive as weak, incompetent, unintelligent or not belonging to my cliché.

I am aware of my being a perfectionist and an obsessive-compulsive and no matter how I try to curb them so I won’t come out as very choosy and critical of others, they manage to surface at times. I get frustrated because people aren’t as meticulous as I am or as detailed. I get irritated that they allow themselves to be sloppy with what they do. At work, I have to be on top of things and do most jobs myself because I am afraid that the outcome won’t be the best if I myself won’t do it.

Another negative attribute of mine is my being stubborn. My mom even jokes that it is not just stubbornness but obstinacy. I have such a strong, very spirited personality. I do things my way and answer only to myself.

Too much, as is too little of something, is always bad. I am too independent. I am also too wary of people. It takes a lot and a long time before I accept and trust someone and this trust may not even be given completely. In the “less” department, I am less showy of my affections.

Moodiness also spells me. I have even been told to have alarming mood swings. One moment I am carefree and fun to be with the next I am withdrawn and quiet, keeping to myself. I am extremely sensitive too and impatient as well as impulsive.

My wit can be acerbic, my weapon when I am being candid and frank. My mind is sometimes too fast for others to catch up to but my tongue can even be quicker that it spews smart-ass replies even before I have totally analyzed my thoughts.

I can go on naming my other negative attributes and there are still many. I don’t deny them because they make part of the person that I am. It is my negative attributes that teach me that acceptance of them does not mean that I just let them be in me. Rather, it is that I be aware, as awareness is the first key to understanding them. Then I work on overcoming those negativisms to make myself a better person.

As the world ushers in a new year, I, like everybody else hope for the best. I know I have a lot to work on but I know that I am a creation under construction, constantly changing. For the better, that is.