December 20, 2018...

When fall ends... time for winter.

Make sure to keep the kids warm....


Here is a different rendition of a song taught to me by a great friend of mine, brother Fred Pecker, a great union man, who has just passed away.

STEP BY STEP

Step by step the longest march
Can be won, can be won
Many stones can form an arch
Singly none, singly none
And by union what we will
Can be accomplished still
Drops of water turn the mill
Singly none, singly none

I have said before somewhere in this journal how I would stop blogging once I have found what I'm looking for. Or, more accurately, how I find the happiness I have been looking for which would negate all the "pain" that cause me to write. Well, I think the time has come.

As much as I want to make it a routine to update this blog, quite frankly, I have not had the "umph" to do so. For one thing, I do not have constant access to the internet world. But moreso, I really have not had the motivation to write. And I think this is primarily because what I write mainly (if not completely) comes from dark feelings I feel.

Well, coming home is quite an awakening for me. I feel like the dark cloud that had been hovering over me has been lifted... words like "home," "forgiveness," "happily contented," "alive" are words that have now come out of paper.

So what am I trying to say? Well, I am not sure really, as I always am (hehe). But I would like to see a few people and tell them how I'm back, share a few moments of our lives, smile at each other, and smile at the world... (to be continued)

... >:)

I L W U

In the thickness of the hot humid air
In the daily humdrum of people's lives
We met but simply
And I fell from the sky right at
The moment I laid my eyes on you
With your spirited smile
And your heartful laugh
I adore you---
Quite frankly
I care more for what affects you
Than what they say
Quite frankly
I would rather spend my life with you even in hell
Than in heaven without you in utter despair
Quite frankly
I searched the whole world for you
In vain... until now

You bore into me the sweet scent of familiarity
Of a place I once known
Of a time when my soul was free
It is to me the place where there is no other
Where my joy settled once before
A place where people touch, where people smile
Where people continuously mingle 'til nightfall
You resemble that moment I set out to find
And I thank you for engaging me in a little dance
Of what I remember, and of what I am happy to see
That this place still feels like home to me.

Waking From A Dream

I had a relationship with an Irish-American for 7 years. Now I'm back home here in the Philippines. No, the breakup was not the reason why I went home. And no, I did not go home to find myself a woman. So why am I saying these things, you say? I'm not sure really. But I guess it has something to do with relationships and trying to fit-in (whether in a relationship or in general).

One word enters my mind--- culture. Yes, culture. Culture is a tricky thing. For one, its influence goes deeper than we can fathom (I think). While we normally view culture as being a way of life, the way we say our pleasantries (i.e. manners), or even the way we are able to function as a group of people and understand each other (i.e. social fabric), culture to me is much more than that. Some people even go to the extent to state that one cannot live outside of culture; or, that the individual (self) has no meaning outside of what his society gives him. The definition is something much like how a fish cannot survive above water. I have learned what culture means on a more intimate, personal way.

About two decades earlier, I left the waters and lived on land; the so-called land where milk and honey flows unceasingly. So I have experienced living outside of a culture that is not my own. I wish you would ask, "So how was it?" And I wish I can tell you that it was great.

Well, at least I can say that it is possible. One can implant oneself in another land. But it is not a story of glory or of an exciting adventure of some sort. I wish I can say that. The life I lived was different--- it is a life of internal struggle: first, of experiencing culture shock; then, of trying to fit-in; then, of slowly questioning whether I am already transformed from being a Filipino to a Filipino-American; and until finally, of coming to terms with what life is there for people like me. At the end of the day the question is, "Did I survive?" Well, my soul ended up weary and my heart got numb, but I guess I still survived right? (hehe, okay, now I am exaggerating).

Another one of my personal reflection about culture is with the seven-year relationship. As to why did it not work-out, well, there definitely was a series of mistakes on my part. But on another level, there was also the fact that we both come from different cultures, with different ways of "communicating to each other's soul." There are times when I look at her and wish I knew what she was thinking about even without saying, or that I can react to her in ways that she is familiar with. Of course, the wish is vice-versa. But the manners of conveying meanings is intricately woven into one's culture and so we ended up frustrated and not fully engaged.

Both my life migration and the "inter-racial" relationship were results of living in a different culture. Could I have adjusted? I would like to think so but I think that it is something that takes some time, especially if the heart is less inclined to change its ways from where it started from.

So why am I writing this entry again? I guess I want to express how much culture is not easy to reckon with and that going outside of one's country "is really no-joke, man." Now, with these experiences I have a more humbling reverence to the power of culture. Maybe it is true what they say: culture's ability to harmonize a people can also serve as an obstacle in understanding others outside of it.

...Earlier today, I was sipping coffee on a porch, while going on a tangent of listing down what I missed about the Philippines now that I am here enjoying it. Suddenly, something hit me. For a few seconds there, I felt like I just woke up from a long dream of living in another land. Was it all just a dream? If it was, I am not complaining now that I am awake. Hehehe.

I find myself sitting in silence on new year's night. A month more to go. Thoughts gravitate to how I am to start a life, to re-invent myself in a place I have always called home.

The following song enters my mind. Back in the day, I always loved sitting in front of the TV watching the show. It captivated me as much as millions of viewers, I suppose. It told me of a place I have only experienced once. Filled with a mix of feelings in anticipation, the song directs me once more to where I should be all along.

In hindsight, the show probably got me to love the atmosphere of bars. Then again, it may more likely have been the other way around. hehehe.

Anyhow, cheers to 2010!!! May the wind blow softly on our faces and the night be more serene as we continue to build.

Happy New Year.

Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name,

And they're always glad you came;

You want to be where you can see,

Our troubles are all the same;

You want to be where everybody knows your name.

The Prophet ~ Children written by Khalil Gibran

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, "Speak to us of Children."

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.