Redefining Me

My limit: 11

2006-04-28T19:45:00.000+08:00

Well my friends, I have reached the limit of my patience. Eleven to be exact. I tried 11 times to leave a post in Wanda's EFX2 blog (and also at Laurie's, Lisa's, Windy's, Wozza's and the Moomin's) and EFX2 won't let me...
Sigh...

But I read everybody's post and I feel more or less "updated" on what's happening from everybody's end... Sent emails to some...

Sigh... I miss you guys...

at a loss...

2006-04-27T22:43:00.000+08:00

After awhile you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn't mean possession
and company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises and you begin to accept
your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of an adult not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build your roads today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have ways of falling down in mid-flight
After awhile you learn that even sunshine
burns if you get too much so you plant your
own garden and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn...

Veronica A. Shoffstall
©Copyright 1971

::::
Am at a loss for words...
She stated it all so beautifully...
Decorate your soul.

Aren't we all decorating ours with our own words in our own blogs as well as those "trinkets" we take away from the musings of our (digital) friends --- taking them into our own and making them ours too?

Its a blessing to hear from all of you even when MB is down. Thank you so much for keeping in touch! :)

I resign!

2006-04-22T18:16:00.000+08:00

I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult.

I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an 8 year-old.

I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four star restaurant.

I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.

I want to think M&Ms are better than money because you can eat them.

I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summer's day.

I want to return to a time when life was simple; When all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care.

All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.

I want to think the world is fair. That everyone is honest and good.

I want to believe that anything is possible. I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones.

I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.

So... here's my checkbook and my car-keys, my credit card bills and my 401K statements ( I just filed my ITR! ~lol-RG). I am officially resigning from adulthood.

And if you want to discuss this further...
.
.
.
.
.
.
you'll have to catch me first, cause

"Tag! You're it."

My Resignation
Author Unknown*RantGirl is currently inside her closet
secretly playing with her new dolly!* :)

Flawed and beautiful

2006-04-20T01:06:00.000+08:00

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on the end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots was perfectly made and never leaked. The other pot had a crack in it and by the time the water bearer reached his master's house it had leaked much of it's water and was only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you." "Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" "I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path."

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again the pot apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

Each of us has our own unique flaws.
We're all cracked.
But in God's great economy, nothing goes to waste.
Don't be afraid of your imperfections.
Acknowledge them for they too can be the cause of beauty.
Know that in your weakness you will find your strength.

The Cracked Pot
Author Unknown

:::::
I remember Deepblue telling me a few weeks ago that encountering "the devil" will teach me stuff I would never learn from anyone else...

...and as always, she was right. You can be broken (or flawed) but that doesnt mean you are worthless--- only human and that you should TRY looking at where (or who) you are from a fresh "perspective".

My thoughts? It takes honesty to work on your strengths and courage to work WITH (not ON) your flaws. And it cant be "courage" unless there's fear. This is what makes it truly special - to admit and work WITH your flaws inspite of and despite of everything.

THIS is what makes you truly special each time you look at the mirror and recognize that the person looking back is flawed AND beautiful.

(This post took quite a lot out of me to write...)

Hidden

2006-04-17T14:00:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time, when God had finished making the world, he wanted to leave behind a piece of His own divinity, a spark of His essence, a promise to man of what he could become, with effort. He looked for a place to hide this precious gift because, He explained, what man could find too easily would never be valued by him.

"Then you must hide this gift on the highest mountain peak on earth," said one of the angels.

God shook His head, "No, for man is an adventuresome creature and he will soon enough learn to climb the highest mountain peaks."

"Hide it then, O Great One, in the depths of the earth."

"I think not," said God. "for man will one day discover that he can dig into the deepest parts of the earth."

"In the middle of the ocean then, Master?"

God shook His head. "I've given man a brain, you see, and one day he'll learn to build ships and cross the mightiest oceans."

"Where then, Master?" cried the chorus of angels.

God smiled, "I'll hide it where every man and woman will be able to find it if they look sincerely and deeply enough.

...I'll hide it in their heart."

Precious Gift
Author Unknown

Make your own music

2006-04-15T13:39:00.000+08:00

Photo: Violin2
By: Dave Dyet
Website:dyet.com

(Long reading but definitely worth it.)

On Nov. 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City.

If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an awesome sight.

He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.

By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.

But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap - it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do.

We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage - to either find another violin or else find another string for this one. But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again.

The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before.

Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that.

You could see him modulating, changing, re-composing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before.

When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done.

He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said - not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone - "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the definition of life - not just for artists but for all of us.

Here is a man who has prepared all his life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings; so he makes music with three strings, and the music he made that night with just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable, than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings.

So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.

Playing A Violin With Three Strings
Jack Riemer

::::::

My thoughts:
Like most people, I focus on what I dont have (the missing string) instead of "playing" with what I have. Come to think of it, going right ahead requires more "courage" as well as more "faith"...

Probably I didnt have that then...

But throw me infront of an "orchestra" anytime now and I assure you that even if I cant play any instrument I'd sing my heart out. :)

We do make "music" not what we have but with who we are (or are becoming). Now listen to the melody ONLY your heart can hear and do what you can to share that "melody" called YOU :)

I think thats the essence of Easter - owning our limitations and rising above them because we are TRULY better than how we see ourselves. :)

Reflection for Good Friday

2006-04-14T13:45:00.000+08:00

There was once a bridge which spanned a large river. During most of the day the bridge sat with its length running up and down the river paralleled with the banks, allowing ships to pass thru freely on both sides of the bridge. But at certain times each day, a train would come along and the bridge would be turned sideways across the river, allowing a train to cross it.

A switchman sat in a small shack on one side of the river where he operated the controls to turn the bridge and lock it into place as the train crossed. One evening as the switchman was waiting for the last train of the day to come, he looked off into the distance thru the dimming twilight and caught sight of the trainlights. He stepped to the control and waited until the train was within a prescribed distance when he was to turn the bridge. He turned the bridge into position, but, to his horror, he found the locking control did not work. If the bridge was not securely in position it would wobble back and forth at the ends when the train came onto it, causing the train to jump the track and go crashing into the river. This would be a passenger train with many people aboard.

He left the bridge turned across the river, and hurried across the bridge to the other side of the river where there was a lever switch he could hold to operate the lock manually. He would have to hold the lever back firmly as the train crossed. He could hear the rumble of the train now, and he took hold of the lever and leaned backward to apply his weight to it, locking the bridge. He kept applying the pressure to keep the mechanism locked. Many lives depended on this man's strength.

Then, coming across the bridge from the direction of his control shack, he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. "Daddy, where are you?" His four-year-old son was crossing the bridge to look for him. His first impulse was to cry out to the child, "Run! Run!" But the train was too close; the tiny legs would never make it across the bridge in time. The man almost left his lever to run and snatch up his son and carry him to safety.

But he realized that he could not get back to the lever. Either the people on the train or his little son must die. He took a moment to make his decision. The train sped safely and swiftly on its way, and no one aboard was even aware of the tiny broken body thrown mercilessly into the river by the onrushing train. Nor were they aware of the pitiful figure of the sobbing man, still clinging tightly to the locking lever long after the train had passed.

They did not see him walking home more slowly than he had ever walked: to tell his wife how their son had brutally died.

Now if you comprehend the emotions which went this man's heart, you can begin to (somehow) understand how God must have felt on Good Friday.

Think about it.

The Bridge
Author Unknown
Source Unknown

The Center ot the World

2006-04-12T13:46:00.000+08:00

Photo: Road to Heaven
By Maciej Ciupa, Poland

The lesson which life constantly repeats is to 'look under your feet.' You are always nearer to the divine and the true sources of your power than you think. The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive. The great opportunity is where you are. Do not despise your own place and hour. Every place is under the stars. Every place is the center of the world.
-John Burroughs

:::::

And may I add:

You are precisely at the place where you are meant to be for whatever reason.
Find joy is in discovering why rather than where.

:::::

My thoughts:

We are always looking ahead. Looking forward. Sometimes we forget to look at where we are which is AS IMPORTANT as where we would like to be.

I look around me and am amazed how far Ive come rather than look at how far I still have to go. :)

What Matters

2006-04-11T19:46:00.000+08:00

Something to reflect on.
::::::

Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.

There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days. All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten will pass to someone else. Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance. It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed. Your grudges, resentments, frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear.

So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to do lists will expire. The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away. It won't matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end. It won't matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant. Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.

So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?

What will matter is not what you bought but what you built, not what you got but what you gave. What will matter is not your success but your significance. What will matter is not what you learned but what you taught.

What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage, or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example. What will matter is not your competence but your character. What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you're gone.

What will matter is not your memories but the memories that live in those who loved you. What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what.

Living a life that matters doesn't happen by accident. It's not a matter of circumstance but of choice. Choose to live a life that matters.

What Will Matter
By: Michael Josephson

Designs of Betrayal and the Sign of Faith

2006-04-10T15:37:00.000+08:00

(A long read)

I doubt if anyone would ever tag me as "religious." I would like to believe I am "spiritual" instead - with a greater openness to other religions (some use the word "tolerance" which to me in this context gives such a negative vibe). I try to listen and understand other religions as much as I can as long as it is a religion that does not harm life in any manner. (Note: I have switched to a semi-vegetarian, lacto-ovo diet at the start of the year, a continuation of what I did about two years ago hopefully to prepare me for an all vegetarian diet before I hit 50 :)

Gnosticism interests me deeply. Eversince the discovery and publication of the contents of the Nag Hammadi codices, I have found myself opening up to a deeper level of spirituality in redefining me with regards to my faith or what I believe in. Most of my Christian friends found and labelled it "New Age" stuff and counted it as but part of my idiosyncrasies - something the "creative" people suffer from occassionally. ~lol.

They have been waiting for me to grow tired of the "fad" for close to two decades already with some resigned and quietly admitting that perhaps I've found my "spiritual peace" with it.

The codex of Mary Magdalene, Thomas and Philip complimented by the recent brouhaha over Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code (I loooovvveee Dan Brown's works! Great fiction with a capital F!) has increased my need to get as much reading as I can on gnostic books. Its quite fortunate that both my dad and I share this "need" to learn as much as we can, understand and integrate those we find priceless into out beings and openly discuss them over dinner or coffee about our latest "gems." (I'm a "daddy's girl!").

It would therefore come as no surprise to those who know me (including my hubby) that I refused to go out anywhere but infront of my tv waiting for about 3 hours for the National Geographic Special about the Gospel of Judas.

And I wasn't disappointed a bit.

Researchers stand at caves in the area north and east of El Minya, Egypt, near where the manuscript containing the "Gospel of Judas" was found.

The codex of Judas written in Coptic (the manuscript is carbon dated to be around 300AD) "offered" the following "idea" (am using the "safe" terms so as not to "upset" those whose faith or sensibilities run strongly against the man who condemed Jesus to death): Judas betrayed Jesus upon the instruction of the former so the passion, death and resurrection comes into fruition. The lost gospel asserts that somehow, in betraying Jesus, Judas was acting in accordance with God's plan.

Quite a big chunk to swallow, honestly, though it does makes sense - without the betrayal, The Passion wouldnt have happened. Without the crucifixion, there wont be any Resurrection.

The Bible as we have it today is composed of 4 books - Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. During Christianity's early beginnings, there were as much as 30 books being read by the faithful. Bishop Ireneous "chose" the four, discarded the rest and even labelled the others that are classified as "gnostic" as "heretical" - the gospel of Judas included.

What the documentary successfully shows is that the early Christian faith is rich and diverse and not "one" with a set of beliefs as we do now. There are some, like me, who would like to read more on what was NOT included and see if these do make me question or even leave my faith. I would like to be able to think for myself, believing that if my faith is strong enough to withstand questioning ("assault" is a term that others often use), then it is a faith worth "keeping."

In the end, National Geopgraphic offers that instead of being occupied in "thinking" what to believe in, one should ask oneself why we believe the things we do.

Beautiful.

In deep reflection, the Gospel of Judas does not make me question my faith. It deepens it - for I cannot imagine my God who had made such a supreme sacrifice, leave anything to chance including the betrayal of His Son. Everything was as how He planned it. Divine Plan - its a matter of faith that one gets to believe. But its a deeper kind of faith (spirituality would be a more appropriate word I think) if one continues to believe long after so much searching and questioning has passed.

"The idea in this gospel is that Jesus, like all of us, is a trapped spirit, who is trapped in a material body," Ehrman said. "And salvation comes when we escape the materiality of our existence, and Judas is the one who makes it possible for him to escape by allowing for his body to be killed."
- Bart Ehrman, Religion Professor, University of North Carolina

Think about what you believe in.
Better yet, think about WHY you do.

Now if I can just get my hands on the books! :)
Have a meaningful Holy Week ahead with time for reflection and introspection.

*****

Is there a copy in the Vatican?

"Explosive," that is the only comment made about the content of the Gospel of Judas by Mario Roberty, president of the Maecenas Foundation. "First we assumed the document to be fourth or fifth century. But research proved that this is one of the earliest documents of Early Christianity. That is what makes this discovery so exceptional."

Roberty does not rule out at all that the Vatican owns a copy of their own all this time, securely locked away. "In those days the Church decided for political reasons to include the Gospels of Luke, Marc, Matthew and John in the Bible. The other gospels were banned. It is highly logical that the Catholic Church would have kept a copy of the forbidden gospels. Sadly, the Vatican does not want to clarify further. Their policy has been the same for years: "No further comment."

Roberty hopes passionately that one day another copy of the Gospel of Judas will turn up, because the copy as owned by the Maecenas Foundation is only 65 to 70 percent complete. "We assume that some fragments are still wondering around on the market here and there, but I am afraid that a quarter of the manuscript has been lost for ever."

*****

Further readings:
A Primer!
Read JUST this if you dont have the time to read through it all.
Click Here
Click Here
Click Here
Click Here

Your biggest pearl

2006-04-07T14:20:00.000+08:00

The Pearly Path

The path (of our lives) is strewn with the gems and pearls of our lives, loves, joys, successes, and achievements, and it is also littered with the debris of our broken dreams and broken hearts. But even those broken dreams may hold alluring beauty, for all of life is wondrous and magical, containing secrets and hidden wisdom. All of life is an opportunity to learn (I would like to choose the word "remember" instead of learn - RG :). The hardest times bring the most profound lessons; the biggest irritants can form the largest pearls.

My thoughts:
I would be a hypocrite if I tell you that during my hardest times I thought about the profound lessons Im learning from my pain. Then, I just wanted out - even if it meant slitting my wrists and killing myself. The funny thing is, and I remember reading this, its only in total darkness that you (1) get to see even the tiniest pins of light (2) you get to exercise your faith and step into the unknown (3) you connect with yourself deeply in lieu of the absence of everything else or you (4) successfully imprison yourself into your very own hell.

Looking back, I did learn my lesson - that you are who you think you are. How you see yourself is how others will see you. You define yourself. You are what you make yourself to be. You will change as you encounter new stuff. You will discover things about yourself you never thought you had. It will be a process of joyful discovery. It will be, as we state it - living your life and discovering your gem.

I choose to become my very own pearl. With everything I've been through, you can bet it will be a large one. ;-)

Have a great weekend everyone. Try to get some rest :)

Path of the Pearl

2006-04-05T15:05:00.000+08:00

My mom had badgered me into adding another book to my must-read list swearing the book is something I will surely love. Its titled Path of the Pearl by Mary Olsen Kelly by Barnes and Noble.

I have not been getting enough sleep for the last few weeks considering that I am now sustaining three passions. Reading therefore had taken a backseat barely whetting my appetite for it via my magazines.

During yesterday’s office coffee break, I reached out for the book hoping to grab a few minutes of good ideas in between my "screaming banshees" (I call my work documents stamped with big letters spelling urgent as my screaming banshees while me as a "ranting banshee" ~lol).

The book reads:

The Pearl Oyster

The Pearl is the oldest gem, and historically it was considered the most valuable. The chance of a particle of sand, a small crab, or a piece of seaweed or shell naturally drifting into the oyster's body and becoming lodged to create a pearl is literally one in tens of thousands.

A pearl is formed when the pearl-producing oyster defends its soft interior organs against the invasion of a foreign material. At first, the oyster attempts to expel the offender. If the oyster can't reject the foreign object, it will become the nucleus, or center of the pearl, and the oyster will secrete layers of protective pearly substance called nacre (NAY-ker) around the irritant to smooth it out.

Fine layers of nacre are applied every second, every minute, and every hour of the day. Some oysters are dormant for part of the year when the water temperature becomes too cold, and others, especially those in the warm waters near the equator, are active all year long.

As the oyster layers the nucleus, it actually transforms the foreign particle into a part of itself. It accepts the intruder, embraces it, and changes it, The oyster uses all the creative forces that are within its realm to overcome the irritant lodged in its body and transform it into a work of nature's art.

"All art is autobiographical.
The pearl is the oyster's autobiography."
-Federico Fellini

The miraculous living gift from the sea - the only gemstone to be produced by a living entity - is the creation of beauty from adversity, of art from irritation. It illustrates that even the worst and most painful invasion can become something of healing artistry. The pearl is a glowing example of a mortal threat transformed into magnificence.

As human beings, we know pain and suffering in wonderous variety. We all experience adversity and irritation, loss and anguish. We may encounter failure, death, divorce and disease. But like the oyster, we can learn to recognize and embrace the transformational opportunities these experiences present.

...How many of us are able to take a challenge, as oysters do, and find the gift in it - to actually turn it into something positive? This is what the pearl teaches us - to honor our strength and flexibility, to find our own beauty in the inner power it takes to bounce back rather than break apart.

:::::::

I will be reading the book with every free time I can find... and I will be posting some of the "gems" I find in it together with my thoughts...

Now, I dont think I can look at a pearl the same way ever again... All those years I complained about the painful events I've been through... all the while I was "layering" and creating my own gem - the gift of me - not only to the people I love but to myself.

A pearl. It is an honor to share yours daily through your blogs.

A sad and empty man

2006-04-04T14:39:00.000+08:00

I just told Laurie that Ive been coming home near midnight for the last 4 days.

Last night, my hubby and I came home around 11:15pm. We were simply too tired to even play with the dogs for a few minutes (we do that upon arriving home because they are always so full of joy upon our arrival each day). My hubby lay catatonic, too tired to go to the bathroom to change to his boxers and freshen up before calling it a night. I decided to let him be for a few minutes more while I scanned the channels.

And that was how I got to "see" a man whose work fascinates me for as long as I can remember but whose treatment of women I totally abhor! (btw, Im also a Mattisse and a Van Gogh fan!)

Im talking about Picasso. I finally got to see Surviving Picasso in HBO (a movie that interested me immensely because Im an avid Sir Anthony Hopkins fan and I missed watching it during its run in 1996.)

I do believe that for all the beautiful, "thinking" images Picasso created, he was empty inside or just so full of himself. Empty because I do believe that men who constantly try to "validate" themselves with "conquests" are just "empty, old, sad men." Full of himself because for him to think and demand that he be your "universe" is simply too much for a "normal" woman to take.

Here was a thing called "love" all twisted in ways you will never recognize unless you are in the business of hating yourself and do not have the gall to kill yourself so you opt for a slow death like having Picasso in your life.

The movie critics were right. The movie "attempts" to delve into the psyche of Picasso but fails miserably to credibly present his case. It was just a movie about the women whose spirits he had "broken" (just like his paintings) in ways only he can. Sad, broken women for an empty old man.

I finished the movie at 2:30am. I simply cannot reconcile until now the man whose works I so admire from the man depicted in the movie who takes from the women he professes to love not just their pride, their sense of self but their very souls.

Was it worth losing sleep over? Im a Hopkins fan ever since I heard him say "Clarice!" Hopkins was his usual best despite a "wanting" storyline... and Picasso?

Im no nearer understanding the man or his work though the latter I believe will continue to fascinate me.

Losing the Bitch

2006-04-03T13:13:00.000+08:00

I used to be an incurable romantic until my bitch persona and my grown-up cynicism took root. Now love stories don't warm me all that much- well, not the soapy, sniffing, crying kind anyway.. just a tingle every now and then.. ~LOL.

My hubby thinks I've lost by "girly charms." He thinks Im quietly mutating into a "boy" with my slacks and my ponytails, my short-trimmed nails and loafers (I work in a creative agency and you know how the crazy creative advertising/communication guys prefer to dress! Go figure! ~LOL). I hardly wear makeup unless I am requested to attend a "power" meeting to make a presentation or secure an approval. Most of the time Im in my loafers and jeans looking like a college student in search of a job (according to my hubby anyway ~LOL)

So what does he get me? A DVD of the Prince and Me (Julia Stiles) so I get to be more "girly" than usual!(my collection includes the strong women kind ~LOL - the killbill, laracroft, underworld kind!). I however preferred to watch the "Prince" during a night when he was away working. I don't like him staring at me to see how "affected" I was! Grrr!

The movie is the "fairytale" kind with a pre-med stude (Julia) stuck with the spoiled, prince-in-waiting (of Denmark) as a study partner. As expected, incognito.

He's out to have a little fun and she's bent on getting through med school.

The storyline is, as as all love stories go, "soapy," a "feel-good" movie.

..And I loved it! ~LOL! I even found myself startling my shih-tzus (3 out of 4 sleep with us in our bedroom) by laughing out loud when I saw the guy chasing cows (he gets to spend Thanksgiving with her!)

If you can spare a little less than two hours, have nothing better to do and waiting for a hubby who would gladly play "prince*" when he arrives, then go get a copy of the DVD. Who said we have to stop being little girls wishing for our prince charming simply because we grew up? Sheesh! Go look for one or better yet, help your frog you married "transform" himself into someone more "kissable!" ~LOL!

Oh "the bitch**" is sooo losing it! She's almost gone! ~LOL! Come to think of it, she is fast becoming the "pretend" and my blogging one, real. :)

* - a prince for me is defined by someone who is willing to give a heavenly footmassage that would make you go ohhhhhhh! ~LOL! ~ and i married one! lucky, lucky, lucky me! :) ~LOL!
** - my bitch persona

Second Wind

2006-03-27T18:17:00.000+08:00

Photo by HC Merkle

(A confession. This would be a long read. :)

"The highest reward for a person's toil
is not what they get for it,
but what they become by it."
- John Ruskin

I have a job that pays the bills, one that is a joy to do. Communications and Advertising is my first passion. I have webdesigning that makes me feel good as it serves as my digital creative outlet (and honestly gets to pay all my bills too once in a while). Webwork, my second passion. Between the two, I hardly have the time to do anything else but try to conceive a child (my heart's desire). But Passion One is currently on slow mode due to some unpleasant encounter I recently had. It left a major dent in our finances that scared me but failed to paralyze me. With some extra time on my hands I decide to pursue Passion Three.

"Problems are only opportunities
dressed in work clothes."
- Henry Kaiser

Second wind. I was redefining me all over again, professionally. I wasn't entirely leaving the career I have established for myself for the last 3 decades which I extremely enjoy. I again just merely added another "pursuit" that is in itself another "joy."

Passion. That is what fuels me more than money. I always tried to "coach" college students to follow their passions. Passion would make "work" a joy and anything that is a joy to do would be something that you can "grow" with. Money follows those who excel in what they do. People who enjoy what they do get easily noticed for their excellence. I always believed money should be the "gravy" not the target. Joy should be the target. It was in enjoying what I did that I got noticed and in excelling in my field that the money came.

"You've got to get to the stage in life
where going for it is more important
than winning or losing."
- Arthur Ashe

I have been asked countless of times in career talks I have given to high school students if I was ever afraid that the money wouldn't come. Yes. I was constantly afraid (although it was reassuring to note that my parents always told me that they will always be there for me if I will ever need them). I was afraid I will not earn as much as I can spend (LOL! I wanted to buy everything I can with my money then! ). I was afraid I will not even land me a decent job that would make my folks proud of me. All my college buddies were landing great jobs and here I was on top of my class not getting the jobs I wanted!

"It isn't what you have, or who you are,
or where you are, or what you are doing
that makes you happy or unhappy.
It is what you think about."
- Dale Carnegie

But I decided to just follow my passion - to trust it. I will NOT work I told myself. I will enjoy what I do for a living. I will have a "passion" and NOT a job. I don't want to be tied to a 9 to 5 job that would leave me empty and would make it difficult for me to get out of bed every morning. One that would make me look forward to weekends and holidays. One that I would love to hate. I wanted a job that would be a part of ME and be extremely good at it that the money would follow. And guess what --- I never "worked" my entire life. Never held a "job" and became financially independent ahead of all my peers.

"Courage is never to let your actions
be influenced by your fears."
- Arthur Koestler

I got my fears. HUGE ones. But I recognize them for what they are- fears NOT blocks. Fear would stop you so you consider options. It shouldn't paralyze you not to move or to keep pursuing. It is there to test you how much you want something. No fear had ever held me down yet (Ok. Im not a superwoman. I have one big fear that paralyses me but it isn't professionally but personally. Im afraid of being barren and not being able to give my husband even a child but that's another post for another time).

"Happiness is an attitude of mind,
born of the simple determination
to be happy under all outward circumstances."
- J. Donald Walters

So there I was, primary passion on slow mode, second passion on a regular undemanding pace and a third passion about to be born. I was determined to give it a go. I wanted to see how far this third passion of mine can take me. That was last Saturday– March 25, my maiden debut as a major/only speaker cum lecturer in a Scrap(booking) Meet among those whose passion for the craft are high if not at par with (but have serious doubt would ever exceed) mine.

I have spoken before in bigger events but not as the only lecturer. Topics then were basic. This event marketed itself as "advanced techniques." Would they accept a relatively unknown person teaching them about the craft? Would the major stores support an unknown just by looking at her work? Would the tickets priced quite expensively (never was a scrapbooking activity ticket ever priced that high) sell out? Would I end up shelling my own money because the event bombed?

"The very least you can do in your life
is to figure out what you hope for.
And the most you can do is live inside that hope.
Not admire it from a distance
but live right in it, under its roof."
- Barbara Kingsolver

Was I afraid? Damn, yes! I was scared sh*tless! I had sleepless nights and ulcer attacks due to stress. Fear has a way of paralyzing you. But it also has a way of making you think clearly too. The more I got scared, the more I planned. The more problem-scenarios I saw, the more I planned my options. I was working 18 to 20 hours a day for the last two weeks preparing workshop materials, lecture notes, the works. I was as passionate about the craft as I was about teaching it. I wanted those attending to learn and love what they have chosen to do.

Four days after releasing the tickets, half were sold immediately. In about a week of selling, I was down to holding 5 tickets. Three days before the event, tickets were sold out with more people asking for more (I simply don't want to handle any handson activity for more than 25 pax. I wont be able to supervise all so I chose NOT to be greedy and told people to join the next one soon). My third passion wasn't about earning. It was about discovering how far it can take me.

"The art of teaching
is the art of assisting discovery."
- Mark van Doren

It turned out great. No. Fantastic. I earned something decent, got invitations to conduct for smaller groups, got offers to study/endorse products from suppliers and made new friends --- fantastic people who are passionate about the craft too.

"We are told that talent
creates its own opportunities.
But it sometimes seems that intense desire
creates not only its own opportunities,
but its own talents."
- Eric Hoffer

Now I have three --- three passions that translated into something I can earn from. One mentor said that it is possible to go P-to-P (translating ones Passion into something for the Pocket as in money) if you have the heart and faith for it. She believed I have both with two passions tucked under my belt already. She reminded me adding another one and another and another would simply be a breeze --- a calling, she said. I proved her right.

Second wind? I'm looking forward to my third or my fourth. Wherever my passions takes me. I'm listening.

RG

PS: Giving birth to my third passion is the reason why I have not posted for the last 25 days. Im so sorry. I promise to be right on track again soon. Will do my blog catch-up readings within the week. I missed you guys and I thank you for including me in your prayers. Apologies to my friends who have sent email, posted at my chatterbox, sent SMS wondering where I was or what Im up to. Im truly, truly sorry. *hugs to you all*

Irresistible!

2006-03-10T03:50:00.000+08:00

I am alone,
In a box with one emotion,

I am scared,
That I will never find my way out,

I am lonely,
Afraid that I will never let anyone in.

Wallpaper Download!

Here's a picture I found so moving I wanted to make a wallpaper out of it. I added a few lines from a poem by W.Wilson and viola! An irresistible wallpaper download!

Enjoy!

Wanda, I hope I did your lines justice. Those are my favorite lines! -M

::::::
Click to open another browser window and wait for the image to download. Right-click to save the image in your computer. After sending, head over to Wanda's blog and post her a thank you comment. She would love that! :)

Click here to download the 800 x 600 wallpaper
Click here to download the 1024 x 768 wallpaper
Click here to download the 1280 x 786 wallpaper

Have a great weekend everyone!

So I wouldn't cry...

2006-03-08T23:52:00.000+08:00

I was preparing the wallpaper of the previous post for Wanda (and for those who would like to have it) when I came across this story that made me remember Laurie and what she told me - that she'd be praying for courage for me... as earnestly as praying that I conceive a child so that whatever happens I'll be fine...

This one made me all weepy... Quite long but definitely worth it.

::::::

My son Gilbert was eight years old and had been in Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires and told to return home and give all to "dad."

That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried.

Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pine wood derby car with his young, eager son. The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.

Finally, mom stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project began.

Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud the measurements, the rules of what we could do and what we couldn't do.

Within days his block of wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. A little lopsided, but looking great (at least through the eyes of mom).

Gilbert had not seen any of the other kids cars and was feeling pretty proud of his "Blue Lightning," the pride that comes with knowing you did something on your own.

Then the big night came. With his blue pinewood derby in his hand and pride in his heart we headed to the big race.

Once there my little one's pride turned to humility. Gilbert's car was obviously the only car made entirely on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.

A few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert's, lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his side. A couple of the boys who were from single parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather by their side, Gilbert had "mom."

As the race began it was done in elimination fashion. You kept racing as long as you were the winner. One by one the cars raced down the finely sanded ramp.

Finally it was between Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest looking car there. As the last race was about to begin, my wide eyed, shy eight year old ask if they could stop the race for a minute, because he wanted to pray. The race stopped.

Gilbert hit his knees clutching his funny looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse with his Father.

He prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on his face and announced, "Okay, I am ready."

As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father as their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart and watched his block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great speed and rushed over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy's car.

Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud "Thank you" as the crowd roared in approval.

The Scout Master came up to Gilbert with microphone in hand and asked the obvious question, "So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?"

To which my young son answered, "Oh, no sir. That wouldn't be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I don't cry when I lose."

Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us. Gilbert didn't ask God to win the race, he didn't ask God to fix the outcome, Gilbert asked God to give him strength in the outcome.

When Gilbert first saw the other cars he didn't cry out to God, "No fair, they had a fathers help."

No, he went to his Father for strength.

Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God to rig the race, to make us number one, or too much time asking God to remove us from the struggle, when we should be seeking God's strength to get through the struggle.

Gilbert's simple prayer spoke volumes to those present that night. He never doubted that God would indeed answer his request. He didn't pray to win, thus hurt someone else, he prayed that God supply the grace to lose with dignity.

Gilbert, by his stopping the race to speak to his Father also showed the crowd that he wasn't there without a "dad," but his Father was most definitely there with him. Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that night, with his Father at his side.

::::::

I can't tell you

2006-03-08T11:33:00.000+08:00

A friend sent this to me. She had not been in touch for quite sometime but silence between us doesnt mean we have forgotten each other - that much we know. I guess she's just busy doing so many things just like me... She sent me this... I found it too beautiful not to post here - where most of my friends are nowadays.

Here's to you guys...

::::::

I can't give solutions
to all of life's problems,
doubts, or fears.
But I can listen to you,
and together we can seek answers.

I can't change your past with all
it's heartache and pain,
nor the future with it's untold stories.
But I can be here now
when you need me to care.

I can't keep your feet from stumbling.
I can only offer my hand
that you may grasp it
and not fall.

Your joys, triumphs, successes,
and happinesses are not mine;
Yet I can share
in your laughter and joy.

Your decisions in life
are not mine to make,
nor to judge;
I can only support you,
encourage you,
and help you when you ask.

I can't give you boundaries
which I have determined for you,
But I can give you
the room to change, room to grow,
room to be yourself.

I can't keep your heart
from breaking and hurting,
But I can cry with you and
help you pick up the pieces
and put them back in place.

I can't tell you who you are.
I can only love you
and be your friend.

Author Unknown

::::::

If you'd like to to make the above image into a wallpaper for your computer, ISM or post here and I will make a set for you to download... I like the image so much am tempted to do it but I'd rather do it for a friend than just myself :)

Redefining "Friends"

2006-03-05T13:30:00.000+08:00

I never thought I'd have a lot of good friends concentrated in just one place - MB. I had a handful before. Alright, Im picky! lol! But I truly treasure those precious few. Few... until MB. Now I have another handful of people I keep close to my heart. I never imagined I'd have real good friends I have yet to meet! If you told that to me before MB I would have said youre pathetic or desperate to have some... But I proved it true... You do get to make and keep good ones on the net! :) Fantastic!

So how to you know if they're just friends or good friends?

::::::

In first grade your idea of a good friend was the person who went to the bathroom with you and held your hand as you walked through the scary hall.

In second grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you stand up to the class bully.

In third grade your idea of a good friend was the person who shared their lunch with you when you forgot yours on the bus.

In fourth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who was willing to switch square dancing partners in gym so you wouldn't have to be stuck do-si-do-ing with Nasty Nick or Smelly Susan.

In fifth grade your idea of a friend was the person who saved a seat on the back of the bus for you.

In sixth grade your idea of a friend was the person who went up to Nick or Susan, your new crush, and asked them to dance with you, so that if they said no you wouldn't have to be embarrassed.

In seventh grade your idea of a friend was the person who let you copy the Math homework from the night before that you had.

In eighth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pack up your stuffed animals and old baseball but didn't laugh at you when you finished and broke out into tears.

In ninth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who would go to a party thrown by a senior so you wouldn't wind up being the only freshman there.

In tenth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who changed their schedule so you would have someone to sit with at lunch.

In eleventh grade your idea of a good friend was the person who gave you rides in their new car, convinced your parents that you shouldn't be grounded, consoled you when you broke up with Nick [or Glenn] or Susan, and found you a date to the prom.

In twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pick out a college /university, assured you that you would get into that college/university, helped you deal with your parents who were having a hard time adjusting to the idea of letting you go...

At graduation your idea of a good friend was the person who was crying on the inside but managed the biggest smile one could give as they congratulated you.

The summer after twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you clean up the bottles from that party, helped you sneak out of the house when you just couldn't deal with your parents, assured you that now that you and Nick or you and Susan were back together, you could make it through anything, helped you pack up for university and just silently hugged you as you looked through blurry eyes at 18 years of memories you ere leaving behind, and finally on those last days of childhood, went out of their way to give you reassurance that you would make it in college as well as you hadthese past 18 years, and most importantly sent you off to college knowing you were loved.

Now, your idea of a good friend is still the person who gives you the better of the two choices, holds your hand when you're scared, helps you fight off those who try to take advantage of you, thinks of you at times when you are not there, reminds you of what you have forgotten, helps you put the past behind you but understands when you need to hold on to it a little longer, stays with you so that you have confidence, goes out of their way to make time for you, helps you clear up your mistakes, helps you deal with pressure from others, smiles for you when they are sad, helps you become a better person,and most importantly loves you!

Author Unknown

::::::
People change. And their ideas on friends and friendship somehow changes along the way too. Think about it.

You all have been to me the best there is! :) Thank you for being here with me as I stretch my "wings." My deepest thanks.

Stretching My Wings

2006-03-03T16:30:00.000+08:00

Ive been thinking. In the middle of serious problems I usually keep to myself - much to the consternation of my hubby. I refuse to talk. I stay away from company until I have worked everything out inside my head and have arrived at a course of action. That is why Im very sorry if I have not been posting as regularly as I want to. Ive been trying to work something out.

My recent career moves have made some serious dents in my annual income. Although it is something that should bother me immensely, it is the redefining of who I am and what I can do (away from the things I have done well) that has made stop and think. Ive been enumerating all my skills and picking on ones that I would like to hone further... Im starting a new venture in an area I have much passion about... Im gauging areas and trade I would like to explore more extensively and match it up with my old and newfound skills.

It feels like am embarking on a (parallel) career all over again... at the age of 42! I wonder if this is what they call "second wind?" :)

Yup, I quietly turned 42 last Tuesday. I thoroughly enjoyed the wonderful surprise dinner hosted by my closest friends the Saturday before and the family luncheon we had the following day. I pleaded no to loud dance parties for I really wanted quiet conversations with friends and family in this time of reflection. I received the wonderful electronic birthday cards of MsDragon, HeavensDevil and SimplyBeingMe that touched me deeply. Friends who remember my birthday, most specially those from afar, touch my heart immensely. Sniff... sniff... And reading my chatterbox posts just made the dam burst! sniff.. sniff... Thank you all...

Baby steps. Thats what I feel Im taking now. Baby steps. Wobbly but packed with enough courage to just go for it... Surrounded by people who truly care. Thank you.

:::::::

There is a difference between being an acquaintance and being a friend. An acquaintance is someone whose name you know, who you see every now and then, who you probably have something in common with and who you feel comfortable around.

It's a person that you can invite to your home and share things with. But they are people who you don't share your life with, whose actions sometimes you don't understand because you don't know enough about them.

On the other hand, a friend is someone you love. Not that you are "in love" with them, but you care about them and you think about them when they are not there. The people you are reminded of when you see something they might like, and you know this because you know them so well. They are the people whose pictures you have and whose faces are in your head regardless.

Friends are the people you feel safe around because you know they care about you. They call just to see how you are doing, because a friend doesn't need an excuse. They tell you the truth, the first time, and you do the same. You know that if you have a problem, they are there to listen.

Friends are the people who won't laugh at you or hurt you, and if they do hurt you they try hard to make it up to you. They are the people you love, regardless of whether you realize it.

Friends are the people you cried with when you got rejected from colleges and during the last song at the prom and at graduation. They are the people that when you hug them, you don't think about how long to hug and who's going to be the first one to let go.

Maybe they are the people that hold the rings at your wedding, or maybe they are the people who give you away at your wedding, or maybe they are the people you marry. Maybe they are the people who cry at your wedding because they are happy or because they are proud.

They are the people who stop you from making mistakes and help you when you do. They are are the people whose hand you can hold, or you can hug or give them a kiss and not have it be awkward because they understand the things you do and they love you for them.

They stick with you and stand by you. They hold your hand. They watch you live and you watch them live and you learn from them. Your life is not the same without them.

Author Unknown
::::::

My MB family are definitely NOT acquaintances. They, and the things they go through, are ALWAYS inside my head

...and my heart :)

"W" for Wonderful!

2006-02-20T18:06:00.000+08:00

Happy Birthday Wanda!

I wish you a much bigger heart
as you courageously pursue your dreams.
You owe it to your spirit
that has so much to share.
You owe it to yourself
to take that chance... to dare.

I wish you greater joy
as you play fun loving mom
while getting things done
as you weave your own tapestry
of memories that should last
you a lifetime.

I wish you deeper happiness
as you learn to discover more
about the wonderful man you married.
May you grow more in love
with every sunrise and know joy
in each others presence in every sunset.

And I wish you love. Lots of it.
More than your heart can hold.
Know that your friends here will always
be right behind you
and will always appreciate you
for the wonderful woman you are.

Happy Birthday Wanda
I give thanks today for the gift of you.

Go have a blast gurl! Have your tequilla!
Its your day and we celebrate with you!
I love you Wanda and am proud to be your friend. :)

::::::

Here's a wallpaper-gift I made for Wanda to celebrate her birthday - a cropped version of the photo shown above (the photo is a stock, not one of my hubby's or mine). Feel free to download and use. Just please take the time to visit her blog and wish her the best.

Click here to download the 800 x 600 wallpaper
Click here to download the 1024 x 768 wallpaper
Click here to download the 1280 x 786 wallpaper

Note: When you click, another browser window will open. Wait for the image to load up, right-click to save the image in your hardisk or save-as your wallpaper whichever is applicable.

PS: Wanda, remember I am a day ahead of you so FOR me, TODAY is your birthday! :)

-M-

Back Home

2006-02-17T18:18:00.000+08:00

Im home. Back in Modblog. Sorry I havent posted for more than a week. Close to two I guess... The "encounter" with the she-devil was a tough one and I really had to seek both personal and legal advice so I can cut clean without raising hell. Its a very complicated move that brought a lot of repercussions and gave me so many sleepless nights. I've told MsDragon that the move would drastically affect me not only personally but financially as they are my biggest client and the "work" am leaving behind is my biggest-paying annual consultancy job.

But as Ive said, Fate and Faith sometimes pushes you to make "space" for new things that are to come into your life. I have enough Faith to believe in it. Its what the Oracle (in the Matrix) said in the last scene of the 3rd part when asked if she KNEW that things would turn out the way they did. She answered. I didnt know. But I believed. I believed.

So Ive again hit another crossroad, I guess. Its been close to a decade that my professional standing had been closely linked to a project I did. Stepping away from it is a challenge for me to redefine ME (professionally) all over again...

And you know what? Am more excited than sad. Oh yes am sad... Stepping away from something you LOVED doing would always hurt. But am excited too... So many new things to do! So many people to meet! So many ways of discovering what I can and cannot do as well things I can do well and be passionate about.

Im busy designing a handful of websites, launching a scrapbook club and workshop, planning a seminar for collegues and yes, preparing for travel in and out of the country.

No time to be sad. Too many things to do...

I missed so many here. I missed reading up on MsDragon's journey to health and happiness... (her constant SMS are always a warming thought that I have friends out here who care about what Im going through). I missed Laurie's heart-warming posts and news on Lisa's legal concerns. I missed Windy and her waiting to be a granny. I missed Wanda, her Ticktock, her kids and her super-hubby... I miss the Moomin and jumping up and down with him. I envy Deepblue and AndersonCards for seeing the Moomin himself! I miss the pictures of Cyberglobe and the funny and honest posts of LilSean. I miss reading up on the performances of OperaRedHead and the "explorations" of Streams... I miss the angst of StregaLuna and the kindness of two guys who dont look it - Wozza and Basjohn. Of course, I miss Koolsbaby too...

And that's just for starters... There are still so many Modbloggers whose names escape me at the moment but whose posts I regularly read....

My visits to EFX2 are another matter as there are a handful of people there whose posts I sorely miss too!

Oh Modblog. I know about the imageserver updates from Gorman and why we have to wait for our images to be back.

Ive missed so much. Im sorry for not being able to post sooner... I'll be doing my blog visits this weekend. I promise.

Glad to be home.

Whew.

::::::

Be thankful that you
don't already have everything you desire.
If you did, what would there be
to look forward to?
Be thankful when you
don't know something,
for it gives you the opportunity to learn.

Be thankful for the difficult times.
During those times you grow.
Be thankful for your limitations,
because they give you
opportunities for improvement.
Be thankful for each new challenge,
because it will build your
strength and character.

Be thankful for your mistakes.
They will teach you valuable lessons.
Be thankful when you're tired and weary,
because it means
you've made a difference.

It's easy to be thankful for the good things.
A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who
are also thankful for the setbacks.
Gratitude can turn a negative into a positive.
Find a way to be thankful for your troubles,
and they can become your blessings.

Author unknown

::::::

Making Space

2006-02-03T14:00:00.000+08:00

I was never the conventional thinker. For instance, I'd nix a well paying job for a job that might pay a little less but is a joy to do everyday. Its the joy I get out of doing something that is my real"paycheck" more than the actual money I receive from doing it. I keep telling students in every career talk I make that turning your job into a vocation or a "calling" is the key to professional success. Few people are blessed this way - doing what you enjoy so much and getting paid for it. And because you enjoy doing what you do, excelling is easy... Youre not working... youre having fun!

I am blessed this way. I have a job that is a joy to do. I am given a chance to touch so many people and inspire them to look at their chosen careers in a whole new way. Ive turned my job into something that nourishes my spirit and gives me joy... The pride is gravy. I have always hoped I can keep on doing this one activity Ive been contracted to do for years, for a long as I can. However the joy had run out. I no longer have the same people to work with that believes in what we are to do. Im now to work with people who look at at the task at hand as nothing more than a job.

It pains me to see what I have treasured and valued for so long relegated to nothing more than a "task." It incapacitates me to think I have no choice but to work with people who think of it as nothing more than another way to get their paychecks. It scares me to think what the daily "climate" will be like to work with such people. Im reading the writing on the wall and it isnt pretty. I guess if it would no longer a joy, then I believe its time to let go.

Im going through some rough "winds" professionally. Im letting go of things I have long treasured and moving on.Im hurting deeply but Im holding on to the hope that when you let go of something... you make "space" for something new.

Wish me luck.. better yet whisper me a prayer. I will badly need it for the week ahead.

::::::::

A young man who had been raised as an atheist was training to be an Olympic diver. The only religious influence in his life came from his outspoken Christian friend. The young diver never really paid much attention to his friend's sermons, but he heard them often.

One night the diver went to the indoor pool at the college he attended. The lights were all off, but as the pool had big skylights and the moon was bright, there was plenty of light to practice by.

The young man climbed up to the highest diving board and as he turned his back to the pool on the edge of the board and extended his arms out, he saw his shadow on the wall. The shadow of his body was in the shape of a cross.

Instead of diving, he knelt down and asked God to come into his life. As the young man stood, a maintenance man walked in and turned the lights on.

The pool had been drained for repairs.

Author Unknown

::::::::

Im praying God has something better for me to find "joy" in. Will try to log in and post as much as I can next week. Its bound to be a tough one for me but I have my faith and that's all I'll need when I let go... next week.kjhkjhk

He's a she!

2006-02-02T19:11:00.000+08:00

I met the devil today. The devil is a she and she just ruined by week! I hate people who get their kicks from seeing others have a hard time wade through the mess THEY make simply because youre paid to straighten everything out.

Oh she sure did it deliberately! She had a smug smile on her face when I was at a loss for words over the mess!

Wish I knew voodoo! D*mn. Sigh... Why can't people simple be?! Why cant some people just be happy that there are those who can do their jobs well and find joy doing it? Why do they have to f*ck things up just for the sheer pleasure of seeing others squirm?

I opted to be a consultant because I no longer wanted to play office "politics." I discovered I dont have the stomach for it. But surprise, surprise! Its hounding me to get into a fight with the devil incarnate herself - and am not even an employee of the company! D*mn!

Am having a headache.... Im too old for this stuff...

Take a seat...

2006-02-02T19:05:00.000+08:00

I no longer need a compass.
I know where I must go.
Here.

I am changing.
I am becoming.
I am rediscovering ME.

Let us sit.
Talk.
Let me tell you my story.
I promise to listen to yours.

Words. Its all we have
and all we will ever need.
Glad to be here.

::::::
I feel I just passed another marker. I pegged another milestone with my last post. The last one freed a part of me away from the darkness. One secret less to keep, one demon less to conquer. My deepest thanks.

The day I forgot...

2006-01-30T15:12:00.000+08:00

For Sherry.
(Laurie wouldnt like this but I know she'll read this anyway :)
~I removed the photo of my wrist after one hour because it was making me cringe.

January 25, 1985 was the day I forgot God. The stitches on my wrist (9 of them on the outside and 7 of them on the inner layer of my skin) are scars that runs deeper than the eyes can see. Some stitches have already faded and are now less prominent on my wrist but I doubt if the pain I felt that day would ever go away.

It isnt the pain of knowing I will never have my left hand functioning 100% ever again (some severed nerves and muscles were beyond repair or therapy). Its the pain of knowing I gave up on me.
I gave up on the people who loved me.
I gave up on God.

Its been a struggle, a hard tough road to claiming back my sanity, my sense of self and my peace.
- to start believing again in me, in people and in God
- to start hoping again that better and best can be had and
- that good is being HERE - living one day at a time

It feels more often that I go two steps forward and one step back. Healing is taking such a long time to happen with each new disappointment pushing me back further than I can handle and challenging my resolve never to step into the darkness again. But as I always say to MsDragon, Im hanging tough (too).

Two years of wanting, hoping and praying for a child. Two years of toughly
holding on to my hard-won sanity. Two years could sometimes feel like an eternity but Im not giving up that easy.The scars on my wrist reminds me that one only fails when one stops hoping. I dont intend to stop. Im holding on to the belief that something better is bound to happen: I will heal, I will have a child, I will be happy.

although not necessarily in the manner I want or expect... or even in that order. It doesnt matter. I just believe its going to be a lot better. (Yes Laurie, I think am getting braver but not as brave as we both want me to be... yet... :)

So am I everything Sherry described me to be? Naaahhh. Oh Sherry {{{hugggsss}}} I wish Im that "good" but I dont think so (and I have the scars to prove you wrong :(. I have such a long way to go from the bottom I refused to leave for close to a decade... But am climbing out... slowly... With a lot of prayers... a lot of faith... and yes... warm, loving words from people I dont think I will ever see but whose kindness means so much to me :)

To my friends in MB, thank you. You make me feel
glad to be alive.

This is my 21st year of claiming back my life.
Thanks for helping me do it

Just (like) talking...

2006-01-28T18:34:00.000+08:00

I think I have a "funny" way of praying lately. When I was small I used to pray kneeling down at the side of my bed, clasping my hands and muttering the prayers I have been taught, word for word. Spending a night in my godmother's house when I was about 5, I screamed after she turned off the lights so she'll hurry back because I forgot to kneel by the side of the bed Ive been given and I still havent prayed. That was when I learned that I didnt have to kneel to talk to God although kneeling is good. From there, I started praying as I lay in bed before I close my eyes and go to sleep.

As I grew older I close my eyes when I lay in bed to pray. I can concentrate more on what Im saying... and as the years passed by I sometime fell asleep in the middle of my prayers telling God about the day Ive had... I found this quite rude.. telling someone about your day, rambling off and suddenly just dozing! :(

So I started praying differently. I figured since God is everywhere I can get to "pray" as often as I can, wherever I am, as I do the things I do.

At work I get to pause before an overwhelming pile of documents, close my eyes and mutter a prayer. Riding in the car with my hubby and getting a glimpse of someone who looks to be in dire need of anything basic, I close my eyes and mutter a prayer for that person. This is also the time I get to mutter a lot of prayers for the stray cats and dogs I see roaming the streets that are deeply emaciated or hurting.

I dont know if its called "reflection" or "quiet time" or "prayer" anymore but somehow just plain "talking" with my Maker gives me a sense of... "peace." Oh please dont get me wrong. Im NOT a religious person as my folks are. I do believe however Im a spiritual one and there were times it is in "prayer" I found my strength, my inspiration and my "center."

I found this new way of praying "funny" because now its just a matter of closing my eyes and praying with my "mind" instead of actually uttering the words and clasping my hands, kneeling and head bowed deep in prayer. Funny because I can be anywhere doing anything and people am with wouldnt even know am in the middle of a prayer! ~lol. Ok, I guess the right word is "fun." Its a 180 degree turn from the way I said my prayers 4 decades back. Thats why I posted something about this a few days ago.

But I got to read this story and I figured the word isnt "funny" or ok.. "fun"... but "me." This is a post related to the one Ive made before the previous one. It a story about praying. Your way. Just (like) talking...

:::::::

A man's daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The priest assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. "I guess you were expecting me," he said.

"No, who are you?"

"I'm the new associate at your local church," the pastor replied. "When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up."

"Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?" Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.

"I've never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man. "But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head.."

"I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, 'Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with God. Here's what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see God on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, 'I'll be with you always.' Then just speak to him and listen in the same way you're doing with me right now."

"So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I'm careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm."

The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church. Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon.

"Did he seem to die in peace?" he asked.

"Yes, when I left the house around two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, In fact, beyond strange--kinda weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed."

Author Unknown

::::::

Warm Hugs!

2006-01-26T14:33:00.000+08:00

My hubby and I bought Hugs from a 12 year old girl who needed the money to pay her school tuition fee. She was crying while she was handing over the flea-infested 10month old maltese crossbreed to me. Hugs was one of two litters with a sister named Kisses.

My hubby brought Hugs because Coco then 2 years old, would be so lonely when we are out of town on an assignment that he would not eat nor sleep much. He was fast losing weight during a period when my hubby and I had to travel frequently. The vet advised we get another dog so Coco would at least have a "playmate." We were not concerned about "puppies" considering Coco has an undescended testicle and has been diagnosed as "poor" for "breeding."

What made Hugs strikingly beautiful was her coat of black with white stripes. Theres a prominent white stripe running at the center of her head and a near perfect one at the center of her chest! The first time I saw her I told my hubby she looked like "Cruela de Ville" but lovelier, softer... ~LOL.

Oh, hubby fell in love with her immediately. He saw past through all the fleas! I didnt at first! I was aghast with the thought that my beautiful white shih-tzu will be sharing his "pad" with her! But hubby insisted that she will be ok and of course, he won... (am glad he did because she's wonderful!)

And so after much trips to the vet, deworming and anti-fleabaths... Hugs (who had poor "toilet" habits when we had her for about 3 brain-wracking months) finally settled down for a life of bliss with her new handsome mate - Coco.

Coco and Hugs - they do make a wonderful black and white pair! :)

Now we travel with nary a thought that Coco will be missing us much.. Well he still does but now he eats and plays with Hugs while he waits... :)

Telling on you...

2006-01-25T20:40:00.000+08:00

Please teach me, Lord...
I want to know
Exactly how to pray.

I need some words
Which ones are right?
Please tell me what to say.

I've bowed my head
I have knelt down, But...
should I be upright?

I've closed my eyes,
I've raised my hands, Or...
should I fold them tight?

Do I stand up?
Should I sit down?
Dear Lord... what do you like?

Are lights turned on
Or are they off? Maybe...
candle light?
Wear my glasses?

Take them off?
Be at my desk or table?
Should I whisper?
Speak out loud?

Do I quote the Bible?
What do you think about the time?
Do You prefer the dawn?

Should I pray fast,
Or keep it slow?
Better short... or long?

I'm new at this
What are the rules?
I want to do it right.

How do I know
You'll even hear
That I am in Your sight?

And while I sat there quietly,
Waiting for some sign,
I heard a gentle voice say,

"Oh, dearest child of mine...
Do you think I really care
About the time of day,
Or whether you are standing up,
Or kneeling when you pray?"

"I don't care about your posture,
Or about the place you choose;
Just open up your soul to me,
I have no other rules.

Tell me what is in your heart,
And tell me what you seek;
Tell me of your sorrows,
And of those things that made you weak."

"Speak to me in private
About what concerns you most;
I know about your good deeds ...
You have no need to boast.

My child, you don't need lessons,
Just talk to me each day;
Tell me anything you want, dear child,
Anyone can pray."

-Author Unknown

::::::

Ive been "telling" Him about what you desire...
I know you've told Him mine. :)
My deepest thanks.

Perspective

2006-01-24T17:43:00.000+08:00

Driving home at 11:30pm after a late dinner with a client, my hubby and I had a nice honest talk about our "situation." Our conversation was about a couple-friend of ours who are having quite a difficulty making both ends meet. I remember saying how hard it must be to raise a child if youre not emotionally and financially prepared for it... and how the lack of finances could rob of you of the joy of raising your kid when half of your brain is worrying about when the next tuition payment would be coming from. I told him that if we did push through having a baby when we first met, our eldest would be 19 years old by now... (we were engaged for 15 years before getting married on our 16th and no, we didnt move in together until we got married... and yes, we have postponed getting married 3 times - but thats a blogpost for another day).

He was quiet for a while and then he said that if we did have a kid then, we probably wouldnt have raised him or her as well as we wanted to considering we would be worrying how we'd be able to make both ends meet (we were both stuggling with our respective careers then). While he believed we would get by, he also believed we wont be able to get as much joy from raising a child as we expected we would and then he said...

"Theres a reason why we still dont have a child.I might not be able to understand why but I know its a good reason. And even if we dont have one after going through everything we are supposed to go through I doubt if I'll love you a little less than I love you now. If we do have children know that he or she will be lucky to have us as we are to have him or her. If we dont, we are still lucky or at least I know I am for I have you.

I didnt answer back because I knew my voice would crack. I just placed my hand on his, gently squeezing it, as he shifted the gear in silence. I just added a whole new meaning to the word luck and it has nothing to do with chance - just love.

Good night everyone. And yes, I wish you luck... but I wish you love even more.

100 posts after

2006-01-22T15:19:00.000+08:00

This is my 100th blog post. Before MB, I never thought I'd be able to keep a blog... more so, get to keep going at it for the hundredth post.

I think I'm a very private person despite the fact that I have career in communications that requires me to be very visible. Being "visible" in those terms is easy for me. Put me up on stage or infront of so many people to talk about anything that has to do with my job and Ill work on it like a charm...

But ask me to talk about something personal and I'll begin to stutter if I don't just shut up.

Talking about anything about my personal life is taboo. Then.
Blogging about it is totally out of the question. Then.

Then.
Whew.
This is my 100th post.

:::::::

Once upon a time there was a little boy who was raised in a orphanage. The little boy had always wished that he could fly like a bird. It was very difficult for him to understand why he could not fly. There were birds at the zoo that were much bigger than he, and they could fly.

"Why can't I?" he thought. "Is there something wrong with me?" he wondered.

There was another little boy who was crippled. He had always wished that he could walk and run like other little boys and girls.

"Why can't I be like them?" he thought.

One day the little orphan boy who had wanted to fly like a bird ran away from the orphanage. He came upon a park where he saw the little boy who could not walk or run playing in the sandbox.

He ran over to the little boy and asked him if he had ever wanted to fly like a bird.

"No," said the little boy who could not walk or run. "But I have wondered what it would be like to walk and run like other boys and girls."

"That is very sad." said the little boy who wanted to fly. "Do you think we could be friends?" he said to the little boy in the sandbox.

"Sure." said the little boy.

The two little boys played for hours. They made sand castles and made really funny sounds with their mouths. Sounds which made them laugh real hard. Then the little boy's father came with a wheelchair to pick up his son. The little boy who had always wanted to fly ran over to the boy's father and whispered something into his ear.

"That would be OK," said the man.

The little boy who had always wanted to fly like a bird ran over to his new friend and said, "You are my only friend and I wish that there was something that I could do to make you walk and run like other little boys and girls. But I can't. But there is something that I can do for you."

The little orphan boy turned around and told his new friend to slide up onto his back. He then began to run across the grass. Faster and faster he ran, carrying the little crippled boy on his back. Faster and harder he ran across the park. Harder and harder he made his legs travel.

Soon the wind just whistled across the two little boys' faces.

The little boy's father began to cry as he watched his beautiful little crippled son flapping his arms up and down in the wind, all the while yelling at the top of his voice,

"I'M FLYING, DADDY. I'M FLYING!"

Flying by: RD Kiser, Sr.

::::::

In my darkest hours you comforted me,
lifted me and showed me I can "fly."
My deepest thanks. - RG

Happy 100th post to me. So glad to be here

Never Nothing... Never Small

2006-01-21T15:01:00.000+08:00

Its just a greeting you say... a kind word you said or left in someones blogor chatterbox. Nothing much really... But you know what? Its not "nothing" for some people. The kind words you say to comfort or to bring joy or simply to say "hello" sometimes goes a long, long way for some people. It does to me.

Here's a story that gave me the sniffles.... Enjoy.

:::::::

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person - her name was Information Please and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anybody's number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway - The telephone! Quickly I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. Information Please I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger. . ." I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me." I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?"

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger."

After that I called Information Please for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math, and she told me my pet chipmunk I had caught in the park just the day before would eat fruits and nuts.

And there was the time that Petey, our pet canary died. I called Information Please and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers, feet up on the bottom of a cage?

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone. "Information Please."

"Information," said the now familiar voice.

"How do you spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the pacific Northwest. Then when I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. Information Please belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the hall table.

Yet as I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me; often in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between plane, and I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please".

Miraculously, I heard again the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information." I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could you tell me please how-to spell fix?'

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess that your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really still you, I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time."

"I wonder, she said, if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do, just ask for Sally."

Just three months later I was back in Seattle. . .A different voice answered Information and I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" "Yes, a very old friend." "Then I'm sorry to have to tell you. Sally has been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago." But before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?"

"Yes."

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down, Here it is I'll read it 'Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean'."

I thanked her and hung up. I did know what Sally meant.

Author Unknown

::::::
There are no "little" acts of kindness.
Just kindness. Never little. - RG

Bad Hair Blues

2006-01-20T16:27:00.000+08:00

Final word on the "Furball":

Losing weight on a bad hair day.
I wish humans can have it THAT easy!
Im in the middle of wrapping up a website project and starting one of our toughest assignments this year. (So am posting this instead - anyway he's cute! ~LOL. Have so little time to write an honest to goodness post!)

It'll be a heavy work schedule for me for the next three weeks.... sigh... :( *puts head down on the table and pounds fists* Naaaahhhhh!!! Ugh!

My Boy... Indulge me please....

2006-01-19T13:17:00.000+08:00

(I'm posting this for Laurie)

I sleep with 2 males every night. One is my husband. The other is Coco. I've had Coco since he was 3 months old (he just turned 8 last January 10). Coco began sleeping with me even before I got married. He wasn't about to vacate his position in my bed simply because another human happened to join me after I got married. Nope. Not for Coco. No way.

Coco was a gift given to my mom who in turned gave the white bundle of fur to me. I called him Coco because he was tri-colored (dark brown-black, light brown and white) and reminded me of one of my other passions --- chocolates in all its colors! Hence, Coco for cocoa. I knew the moment I saw the ball of fur that he's going to be a very deep passion of mine. My first dog sired by two champ shih-tzus and sold away from his litter of four simply because he had an undescended testicle.

The doctors told me he's never going to have "children" because of it (does the line sounds familiar? :). That didn't matter to me at all not when he would stare at me with those big round eyes (and they're really huge!), lick the tip of my nose each time I ask for a "kiss" and lick the tip of my nose again when I say "good morning my love" every morning upon waking up to see him staring at me waiting for me to get up. He knows how to ask for water (he wants it freshly poured into his dish everytime he is about to drink) and for the aircondition and the thermostat to be turned up (when it becomes too humid for him. Ok. I know. He's spoiled. I admit it.). He understands about 80 different words, can be adorable and cute when he wants his snacks or exasperating and stubborn at times when he wants to come with me to the car for a drive but cant.

At night, he'll snuggle close and not move a lot like normal dogs. He'll sleep soundly through the night and yes, snore quietly as he sleeps. And yes, he sleeps with his tummy and paws up in the air and legs spread out! He gives an exasperated sigh each time my hubby has to move him a bit for some "bed space" - its a "power thing" between the two of them ~LOL.

He's so special to me I had to insist they let him inside the church on my wedding day and pose with my hubby and me in our "altar photo" for posterity.

He's been with me in some of my travels by land or air. He loves jumping in the car and looking out the window as the car moves. My hubby sometimes brings him along when he fetches me from work to "surprise" me with the big ball of fur bounding inside my office with a wagging tail in propeller mode.

Coco - one of my sources of joy every time I get home from a tiring day from work.

We've been together for eight years and I honestly can't imagine not having him with me each night I go to sleep. Coco is one of the reasons I've managed to put the depression of not conceiving at bay. He's my "boy."

PS: I have six dogs at home and I will be making a post for each one of them soon. :) ~LOL

Keeps Me Going

2006-01-18T14:08:00.000+08:00

How much does a prayer weigh? There is a story of a grocery store owner who tried to weigh one. A tired-looking woman came into the store and asked for enough food to make a dinner for her children. The grocer asked her how much she could spend. The frail woman answered, "I have nothing to offer but a little prayer."

The storekeeper was not very sentimental nor religious, so he said, half-mockingly, "Write it on paper, and I'll weigh it." So she did.

The grocer placed the prayer on the weight side of his old-fashioned scales. Then he began piling food on the other side; but to his amazement, the scale would not go down. He finally became flustered and gave the woman a large bag of food.

The grocer never saw the woman again, but he treasures the slip of paper upon which the woman's prayer had been written: "Please, Lord, give us this day our daily bread."

Author unknown

::::::

I know a lot of you had been praying for me for the things Im going through. I just want you to know that its deeply appreciated. I have this funny thing of not getting anything I pray for myself. The "batting average" however swings way up the moment I pray for others. I think its Heaven's way of teaching me to share my faith and count on the faith of others to get me through my difficulties. Ive been praying for those who posted their wishes in my wish list.

I know mine is in good hands...

So how much does a prayer weigh?
I believe its a matter of faith...
And all your prayers combined is tipping the scales to "Hope."

Thank you very much. Its truly humbling to be on someone's prayers.

Haylp: Bring your MB logo back!

2006-01-17T12:37:00.000+08:00

Here's somebody who helped me put my logo back in my blog even if the Modblog Image Server is down. A no-brainer! :) Bring your missing logos back! Its taking forever for MB to be up and running 100% AGAIN! ugggghhhh!

Click here

BTW, she's cool! She changes her blog looks "just like that!" ~LOL!

Limitations

2006-01-16T13:53:00.000+08:00

Everybody Knows:
You can't be all things to all people.
You can't do all things at once.
You can't do all things equally well.
You can't do all things better than everyone else.
Your humanity is showing just like everyone else's.

So:
You have to find out who you are, and be that.
You have to decide what comes first, and do that.
You have to discover your strengths, and use them.
You have to learn not to compete with others,
Because no one else is in the contest of "being you".

Then:
You will have learned to accept your own uniqueness.
You will have learned to set priorities and make decisions.
You will have learned to live with your limitations.
You will have learned to give yourself the respect that is due.
And you'll be a most vital mortal.

Dare To Believe:
That you are a wonderful, unique person.
That you are a once-in-all-history event.
That it's more than a right, it's your duty, to be who you are.
That life is not a problem to solve, but a gift to cherish.
And you'll be able to stay one up on what used to get you down.

Author unknown

::::::

Live with your limitations...

That lesson was hard for me to accept. I was raised to view everything competitively. I grew up equating "I cant" with "I wont." I always thought that I can do anything and everything if I set my heart and mind to it. In fact we try to teach this to our young to help them best themselves. And we do this thinking that it is right. That it is good they think this way. That you can always do better.

The "Superwoman" mentality... sheesh!
I discovered the easiest way to burn myself up at the age of 7.

Thinking that you can always do better than your last is good ONLY IF you first take the time to truly know yourself. To discover what you are capable of doing. What you can become. Its much more foolish to jump off a cliff believing that this time you can fly (realizing you dont have wings) than start trying to "build" something that can lift you off the ground (even if you dont know a single thing about building anything).

Dreaming you can build is a lot more "acceptable" than flapping your arms in the hope that you sprout wings.

I dont think its defeatist to live with your limitations. I think its living honestly. Its your limitations that make you human. And the sooner you make peace with your humanity, the faster you can forgive yourself for the things you "failed" to do - like sprouting wings...

...or conceiving a baby. :(

To get my mind off my "dark stuff," here's a wallpaper I made for ya (its a wallpaper of the picture above). Hope you like it. The best compliment would be to use it even for just a day. :) - by the way, the photo is just a picture stock i have from way back... not a picture taken by me or my hubby :( - wish we did!

Click any of the links below (depending upon your wallpaper size) to open another browser window that will display the image in the size that you prefer. Wait for the image to fully display on screen and then right-click to save as your new wallpaper.

For wallpaper 800 x 600 click here
For wallpaper 1024 x 768 click here
For wallpaper 1280 x 768 click here

Have a prayer to spare?

2006-01-15T13:36:00.000+08:00

Shes 14 years old
she has a blog
...and she asks if you have a prayer to spare...

Please visit her blog and know why she needs your faith...

For the little girls...

2006-01-13T17:50:00.000+08:00

Ive not slept well for the last two days. A recent reading about female feticide/infanticide broke my heart and drove me to read more about the subject. Anything about children easily gets to me. Ive been pining to have one for close to two years now and reading about people discarding them like a piece of trash either in or out of the womb mortifies me… bleeds me…

In a recent comment I made to the Woz, I posted:

its the kind of world i wouldnt want my kid to grow up in. we've lost our souls. we claim our humanity as a right when its actually a gift. we kill in the name of everything we believe in without even questioning why. weve lost all reason... as well as our souls. we claim we are alive when we are dead, without the promise of salvation compared to those we buried and prayed over.

ive been crying for the last two days. ive been praying for a child for the last two years and a thousand miles away, millions of children are dying simply because they happen to be females.

such an evil, twisted world...
i bleed.

This is going to be a loooooong read. One of the toughest posts I ever got to do. I tried to find more about the subject but the more I did, the more sick I became. You see I have such a rich imagination that I can easily visualize what I read. Good if am reading my favorite sci-fi/fantasy stuff, bad if Im reading something so real and as close to my heart as this.

Read if you have the time
Or the courage.
Or enough hate even…
(it will be worth all the hate you have)
Be ready to weep
And bleed
And look at cruelty on a grander scale

I will understand if you just breeze through this or choose NOT to read. This is a tough one to handle. Definitely not for the faint hearted.
That was MY mistake.

::::

Just Numbers?

About 500,000 fetuses are aborted in India a year. The current running figure is estimated between 35 to 50 MILLION. The fetuses were aborted because they happen to be females as revealed by ultra-sound tests.

The practice of female infanticide has a long history in India. A few years ago millions of baby girls are killed immediately after birth because of the widespread cultural preference for sons.

A popular way of doing away with the unwanted children is to feed them milk laced with yerakkam paal (the poisonous juice of the oleander plant). “Within minutes, the baby turned blue and died,” a mother stated matter-of-factly, as she, weak after childbirth, helplessly watched her mother-in-law give the poison to her baby.

Yerakkam paal however is more ‘merciful’ than the other method that uses paddy husk. The paddy husk slits the tender gullet with its sharp sides as it slides down the tiny throat.

Most ‘modern’ families use pesticides, sleeping pills or just simply suffocate the infant with a pillow.

However, with the growing popularity of the ultrasound machine to determine the sex of a child, killing them can now be made earlier than birth. Female fetuses, now easily identified, can be aborted fast.

A growing, alarming rate on the practice of female feticide had been noted. Penn sisu kolai, as female infanticide is known in local parlance, is a widespread and socially accepted phenomenon in several parts/states of India like Harvana, Chandigarh, Daman, Diu, Punjab and Nadu.

The female infanticide belt has been identified to stretch through the districts of Salem, Dharmapuri, North Arcot, Periyar, Dindigul and Madurai. Hardcore regions like north Salem, south Dharmapuri, south Dindigul and west Madurai accounted for practically 70 per cent of all female infanticide in the state.

Why females?

According to CBC News writer Jeremy Copeland, a proverb "Raising a girl is like watering the neighbour's garden" generally sums up the way girls in India are seen - as an economic burden on their parents.

Parents about to marry off their daughters in India usually have to pay for the wedding and give a large dowry to the groom's family. Though formally outlawed, the practice of dowry is still pervasive in Indian society. This can run ridiculously beyond ones means as an average civil servant earns about 100,000 rupees a year (US$3,500) while the combination of dowry and wedding expenses usually add up to more than a million rupees (US$35,000) - Porras, "Female Infanticide and Foeticide".

Parents of daughters struggle to earn enough for a dowry, and to make payments once a marriage settlement is reached. Parents are often forced to take out huge loans to cover the costs. After the wedding the girl usually goes to live with her husband's family.

In cases where they are unable to or unwilling to make the payments they have promised, the ‘dowry problem’ seems easily resolved as can be seen in the 25,000 young brides who are burned to death every year, and the hundreds of thousands who are emotionally and physically abused by their in-laws, because their parents have not kept up with dowry demands.

One root cause for the trend toward female feticide is the Hindu belief that parents cannot obtain salvation unless they have a son to perform their last rites. The prayer found in a familiar hymn in Atherva Veda, a Hindu scripture, exemplifies the religious sanction for discrimination against women: “The birth of a girl, grant elsewhere; here, grant a son.”

Women in such areas are second class citizens. Even when daughters are allowed to go to school, they are burdened with household chores, leading to high dropout rates. Across all the religions, the birth of a son is celebrated while the birth of a daughter is mourned.

Girls generally don’t survive their growing up years and even when they do they are not as healthy as the males. A recent research revealed that parents are prone to feed their male progeny more and healthier foods than females. “It is usual for girls and women to eat less than men and boys and to have their meal after the men and boys had finished eating. Greater mobility outside the home provides boys with the opportunity to eat sweets and fruit from saved-up pocket money or from money given to buy articles for food consumption. In case of illness, it is usually boys who have preference in health care. ... More is spent on clothing for boys than for girls[,] which also affects morbidity.” - Karlekar, "The girl child in India."

Whats being done is not enough

With the Indian government going all out to eradicate the practice, the ‘practice’ has gone underground – they’ve become more cautious and more secretive.

Since the Indian government seems to have gone all out in eradicating feticide and infanticide. Those practicing it are now more cautious, more secretive. If someone registers a case of suspected infanticide and the body is exhumed, the 'old' methods of killing can be detected and those who committed the crime can be persecuted.

For infanticide, the methods of killing has evolved. From a quick and relatively painless procedure, it had turned into a prolonged and torturous one for the child.

In some cases the newborn is deliberately weakened and dehydrated by her own parents. In one instance it was learned that they did this by wrapping the child in a wet towel or dipping it in cold water soon after delivery or as soon as the child arrives home from hospital. If the child is still alive after a few hours, its taken to a doctor who will promptly diagnose the child with pneumonia and prescribe medicines. The prescription is always carefully preserved, but the medicines are never bought. When the child finally dies, the parents bandy the medical certificate to prove pneumonia with the prescription to boot.

Sometimes, the infant is fed a drop of alcohol to create symptoms similar to diarrhea. Another certifiable 'disease'.

Those practicing infanticide now prefer to cremate the little bodies but it does raise suspicions as burial is still the popular practice. Before the crackdown, these criminals would bury the dead infants in shallow graves in the fields, putting a stone over the spot to deter animals from digging the bodies. Now it is different.

Snippets to further break your heart

these broke mine further
*An international group which set up a small orphanage went a step further by setting up empty cradles in select communities where unwanted babies. This was the famous 'cradle baby' scheme to appeal to mothers to leave their babies in the cradles instead of killing them. The scheme, however, did not generate much response. In one year, only seven girl babies were left in the crib whereas over 700 'disappeared' shortly after birth.

*Social workers who stood outside the house of a woman about to give birth so they can take away the child if shes unwanted was chased by a couple of men, bearing their trademark aruvaals (choppers.) The social workers got intimidated and moved away. By the time they returned, the girl child had been born, killed and buried.

*In 1993, of the 800 female births registered in a hospital (Usilampatti), 600 had 'disappeared'. No one even spoke of the unregistered births. There was no proper documentation. No real figures.

*At Nalampalli village near Salem, a girl spoke of how her mother-in-law had just killed her sister-in-law's third daughter. "My husband's mother wrapped the newborn girl in a wet towel. She threw it on the ground and pushed it with her toe. 'Who wants this?' she said and went out of the room. All of us stood there, afraid to pick the baby up. My sister-in-law, who was weak after the delivery, just wept. A few hours later, the child died. They got a doctor's certificate to say it had pneumonia." The year was 1999. They had discovered new and 'better' methods of killing since then.

*In some hamlets of ... Tamil Nadu, murdering girls is still sometimes believed to be a wiser course than raising them. "A daughter is always liabilities. How can I bring up a second?" Lakshmi, 28, answered firmly when asked by a visitor how she could have taken her own child's life eight years ago. "Instead of her suffering the way I do, I thought it was better to get rid of her." (All quotes from Dahlburg, "Where killing baby girls 'is no big sin'.")

... no big sin.

Gawd! In the name of what?

2006-01-12T18:50:00.000+08:00

This wonderful strip was emailed to me by the Woz . This is just one of the few strips that "inspired" him to write his contribution to the I've Learned page (see the link in my Bulletin on the right side of my blog. By the way, if you have some lines to contribute, feel free to send 'em :)

The Woz' recent post as well as Heidi's (about her students asking about the Iraq war) got me thinking about some issues. But what got my ire and jumpstarted me to rant is an article Ive read about female infanticide or female feticide. Google it if you would like to vent your ire on something. This subject is definitely worth it! I desperately wanted to hit something after reading about it in India. I wanted to scream but just cried after reading it on my newspaper... (those who "know" me would know why I cry over such stuff...) and hubby held me (over a cup of coffee over breakfast! What a way to start the day! Grrrr....)

Im trying to do my research on the subject in between my screaming banshees (my paperwork that continuously scream "do me, do me!") I'll post something about it in the next few days...

In the meantime, this strip will get you going...

Thank God, God is God. If He wasn't, thunder and lighting would be raining down on certain people continuously for attributing every stupid, inane or hurtful action to His name.

Happy Birthday Dragon!

2006-01-11T21:26:00.000+08:00

May each one bring you
simple pleasures to enjoy,
bright hopes for the future
and the happiness of knowing
how special you are to others
Have a great day dRagon!

Here's a wallpaper I found for 'ya from FunMunch. It comes in very "cheery" colors ~LOL! (Sorry I cant seem to come up with anything as cheery so I looked for one for ya on the web! ~LOL) Go put 'em up and see if it does the magic for ya!:D

Try and download it from here MD! (Everybody is welcome to download the wallpaper to celebrate Ms Dragon's Birthday!) Please note that the wallpapers arent mine. Not my work. They are from Funmunch - website for the kids at heart ~LOL:

Click the link of your desired wallpaper and then right-click, save-as when the image is drawn on your screen! Enjoy! MsDragon is one of the toughest ladies I know! :D

For wallpaper 800 x 600 click here
For wallpaper 1024 x 768 click here
For wallpaper 1152 x 864 click here
For wallpaper 1280 x 960 click here
For wallpaper 1600 x 1200 click here

To truly listen...

2006-01-10T15:50:00.000+08:00

These were the other choices and here's how I interpreted them:

Blogging to journal. - Your story
Blogging to meet people. - Connecting
Blogging to heal. - Purging

The top choice:

Blogging as an outlet.

Blogging as an outlet to vent or rant. For others, a creative outlet to share one's thoughts or works. In its most basic interpretation, I believe blogging as an outlet (release), is blogging to be heard.

That figures. In an age where we are besieged by electronic tools to better maintain communication in real life (you have a landline, a fax, an answering machine, a computer for email and chatting, a cellphone, a pager, --- how many ways can you get tied down? GPRS?) , those who blog do so for the simple reason and need to be heard. Figures...

Despite all the gadgets, and they do evolve by the minute, the basic need to be heard rings loud and clear.

Im thinking its probably not the gadgets. Probably its us. In our daily rush, we tend not to listen. Truly listen to what others have to say. We go yup, yes, no, nah, right and later all in the same breath. The words simply don't register. Not in our minds and not in our hearts. They just float to nothingness.

And yet here we are blogging to be heard. Wanting to be heard...

Probably we will be the moment we take the time to truly listen.
And perhaps we will...
the moment we realize how much of a gift each person truly is.

To the twelve people took the time to answer the poll,
my deepest thanks.

Why do you blog?

2006-01-09T19:38:00.000+08:00

Why do you blog? That's one question my hubby always ask me. Almost daily. Why?

I blog because I want to hear myself out. In the daily noise and grind Im in, its so hard to "listen" to my thoughts... to myself thinking about things... I get caught up with doing so many things at the same time, one after the other (yes am a workaholic and i cant leave well enough alone - obsessive/compulsive stuff), that I never get my "quiet moments" to reflect upon things. "Soul" stuff.

I want to hear myself out and listen to what Im trying to say to ME who is so caught up with the NOW.

I was running on empty inside.

Keeping an actual diary is impossible. I tend to lose stuff or misplace them for ages. Heaven forbid someone gets a hold of it and reads my entries! I also needed feedback preferably from people who hardly know me in real life so I'd get more perspective (In real life, people think am a bitch so I dont need any comforting... just more ranting and venting space.) I do tend to suffer from such a narrow point of view that whatever I decide to do, I just go and do it without thinking things thoroughly or looking at things from another point of view...

And so I blogged.

I consider the friends Ive made online as gravy. Icing on my cake --- all in the effort to better understand myself. Some offered comforting words, some words of wisdom, some of experience... and some of hope. Some became good friends.

And just like friends in real life, some have drifted away (quite a handful of good people/good reads left when they moved into another blogging community - people like the ones on my A Click Away links ).

Does that take away my joy to blog? No.
Does it lessen the joy? Yes.
Do I miss them? Hell, yes.

I ache (the kind like misplacing a great book you'd like to read or worse, wishing to hold a hand of a friend).
Is it permanent?

Its never permanent. The space is taken up by new people you get to meet... with a different perspective on things... and a different way of offering comfort, hope, wisdom, laughter (Gawd, I so need much more of this!) and yes, friendship.

My primary reason in blogging is to discover ME - The one whom Ive neglected for so long. Im hearing myself out each time I blog. And each day that I do, I get to read another's blog and I learn from other people too. A loooottt more than I care to admit, really.

I find comfort in the thought that on the road to discovering ME I get to meet a lot of people who have given a whole new meaning to the word "friendship."

My poll (if you can spare a few minutes of your time): What's your primary reason for blogging?

Oh Tilda!

2006-01-08T20:07:00.000+08:00

I'm a confessed sci-fi, fantasy junkie and Narnia was my "breather" for the week. It was the only thing I looked forward to for a "break" from the piling work documents (even on a weekend) that continuously scream "Do me! Do me!" like a cheap B-movie you'd run away from fast.

The irresistible come-on was Tilda Swinton (thank you lilsean for giving me her name). I loved her as Gabriel in Constantine. I was so amazed how somebody can deliciously play an androgynous angel with such flair. I just had to see her as the Ice Witch. I knew I was going to love her a lot more.

And I do. (Hey Blue! I felt weird drooling all over Tilda! ~LOL)

The movie is fantastic. As expected. For somebody who professes to love everything in the genre of Tolkien, I seemed to have missed CS Lewis. Or probably stayed clear of him when I've read somewhere how his stories are peppered with Christian metaphors from beginning to end.

Dont get me wrong though, I have nothing against religion. Any religion for that matter. But I honestly thought that honest-to-goodness fantasy and religion simply wont mix. How wrong I was. It did mix very well, thank you.

If you are going to watch Narnia without knowing anything about CSLewis perchance for metaphors, you would hardly notice it. With a vast array of eye-candy ranging from beavers (Oh! Their characterization was the best among all the animals!) to fauns, centaurs, minotaurs, phoenixes and other fantastic creatures, a child (or a child-at-heart, like me for instance) would be so busy ogling and not notice the very evident metaphors played out on the screen. You're just following the wonderful story that's unfolding really.

There were a lot of messages that got to me. The one I liked best though was about family - of not leaving anyone behind.

Ohana.

And yes, I loved Lilo and Stitch too!

Now my list of must reads just got higher by six books. The entire Narnia lot of CS Lewis would be a great breather in between the screaming banshees of paper I call my work... sigh...

Try to catch Narnia if you can. Bring your kids if you have 'em. My hubby brought me. :)

A Prescription

2006-01-07T13:00:00.000+08:00

No monthly payments and no fees;
Inflation proof, non-taxable,
In fact, it's quite relaxable;

It can't be stolen, won't pollute,
One size fits all, do not dilute.
It uses little energy,
But yields results enormously.

Relieves your tension and your stress,
Invigorate your happiness;
Combats depression, makes you beam,
And elevates your self esteem!

Your circulation it corrects
Without unpleasant side effects
It is, I think, the perfect drug:
May I prescribe, my friend...

the {{{HUG}}}!

And, of course, fully returnable!

Author unknown

::::::
A quick post in between documents screaming "DO ME! DO ME!"
...sigh... :( The week is almost over... How come it STILL feels like Monday?!

(rant.... *&^%$#@! ....rant!)
Sorry. Needed to vent or I'll explode! :(
I baddddddlllyyy need a prescription... :( (puts head on the table and pounds fists)

Announcement: Mary Poppins have left the building... Mary Poppins have left the building...sigh....

The Cab Ride

2006-01-05T17:46:00.000+08:00

This is a long read but definitely worth it.

The Cab Ride

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at 2:30a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.

Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once for impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door.

This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase.

The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated". "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly. "Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

"What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small
suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," I said.
"You have to make a living," she answered.
"There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought.

For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

Ten things God won't ask:
*God won't ask what kind of car you drove;
He'll ask how many people you drove who didn't have transportation.

*God won't ask the square footage of your house,
He'll ask how many people you welcomed into your home.

*God won't ask about the clothes you had in your closet,
He'll ask how many you helped to clothe.

*God won't ask what your highest salary was,
He'll ask if you compromised your character to obtain it.

*God won't ask what your job title was,
He'll ask if you performed your job to the best of your ability.

*God won't ask how many friends you had,
He'll ask how many people to whom you were a friend.

*God won't ask in what neighborhood you lived,
He'll ask how you treated your neighbors.

*God won't ask about the color of your skin,
He'll ask about the content of your character.

*God won't ask how many people you forwarded this to,
He'll ask if you were ashamed to pass it on to your friends.

::::::

...And so I pass it on to you.

I agree that we tend to get caught up looking for those rare great moments that leave us feeling we can fly. In the process, we tend to overlook the small, ordinary little incidences that are as priceless. That are gems.

That small chatterbox message you left? That kind comment you wrote in someone else's post? Those {{hugggss}} that you feel are nothing more than bracket symbols you type in your keyboard? Those things can make a difference in someone else's life... (Yup Heidi, like taking the time to truly listen to what your students have to say and caring enough to help them through their troubles...)

Like the kindness you've all shown my friend...

Five months ago I found myself sitting infront of my computer typing my innermost thoughts and fears for the first time and talking to total strangers that seemed to understand and genuinely care for what Im going through... Their kind words made a difference in my life. And that part of my life is as priceless as those moments that as I've said left me feeling I can fly...

That's why I never take any act of kidness for granted. Its a humbling experience to be on the receiving end.

Small, ordinary little incidences.
Small, ordinary acts of kindness.
Never ordinary. Always priceless.

I believe in you...

2006-01-04T17:46:00.000+08:00

I wrote and posted these lines four months ago when I was in deep pain. I felt alone...confused. Lost I guess, is a much better word to describe me then...

I let others define ME
As if I was a word
Believed I needed defining
Instead of being heard.

Believed I was broken
And so I became
Lost in the shadows
Hiding in shame.

DeepBlue was one of those who "babysat" me during those times when I hated myself. I ranted and raved. She just listened and tried to make me see the good/funny side of it all (trust me, she can see even the tiniest light from an otherwise dark hole). I guess all I ever needed then was somebody to truly listen and care to what I was trying to say to myself. Without Deepblue I think I would still be hiding in my own darkness (I got used to it for ages. I don't claim Im out of it entirely :) What I do claim is I now have the choice to step away from it - just like The Moomin!)

Its the little acts of kindness here in Modblog that touches me deeply. The simple greetings. The {{hugs}}. The kind comments that help one move on even by just a step. People who have been on the receiving end of such unexpected kindness would know what I am talking about... Allow me to pay it forward...

I have a friend who is in deep pain at the moment. She needs words of encouragement and comfort as she eases from her pain pills that get her through the day... I love her dearly though I know I have a weird way of showing her how much I do lately. I call her my "twisted sister." Would you be so kind as to visit her blog and make her feel she is not alone?

The picture above is a wallpaper I made for her.

My Prayer

2006-01-04T00:11:00.000+08:00

Lord help me to relax about insignificant details
beginning tomorrow at 7:41:23 am PST

God help me to consider people's feelings,
even if most of them ARE hypersensitive.

God help me to take responsibility for my own actions,
even though they're usually NOT my fault.

God, help me to not try to RUN everything.
But, if You need some help, please feel free to ASK me!

Lord, help me to be more laid back,
and help me to do it EXACTLY right.

God help me to take things more seriously,
especially laughter, parties, and dancing.

God give me patience,
and I mean right NOW!

Lord help me not be a perfectionist.
(Did I spell that correctly?)

God, help me to finish everything I sta...

God, help me to keep my mind on
one th -- Look, a bird -- ing at a time.

God help me to do only what I can, and trust you for the rest.
And would you mind putting that in writing?

Lord keep me open to others' ideas,
WRONG though they may be.

Lord help me be less independent,
but let me do it my way.

Lord help me follow established procedures today.
On second thought, I'll settle for a few minutes.

Lord, help me slow down
andnotrushthroughwhatIdo.

Amen.

Author Unknown

::::::

I've been so busy lately that I feel Im about to run on empty.

I can't hardly breathe.

Wish I can slow down.

I hope I do soon.

You

2006-01-03T12:39:00.000+08:00

You can never be the person other than who you truly are.
Life is the experience of being you.

::::::::
There is no place you can go to hide from the thoughts
that you keep contemplating over and over inside your mind.

There is no place you can venture where your true emotions
will be concealed and the secrets of your heart will not show.

There is no place in this whole wide world you can travel
to where your spirit does not direct or guide you
towards your destiny.

Life is the experience of being you;
no one can ever be someone other than who they are.

The beauty found in each and every person is the essence of life...
Simply ... you are who you are
and for whatever time you have to be,
You must not try to shadow yourself,
but, rather, express yourself.

Author unknown

::::::

Well, you can keep on insisting you are a rose and you'll still be a daisy. You can pretend to be a rose and even grow your artificial thorns to prove your point and it still will not change the fact that you are a daisy. You can fool yourself to thinking you are a rose and others will still see you as a daisy...

Or you can just marvel at how beautiful you are as a daisy.

Happy New Year to my online family.

I made a simple wallpaper of the image above that you can download to remind yourself just how wonderful you truly are. Click any of the links below (depending upon your wallpaper size) to open another window that will display the image in the size that you prefer. Wait for the image to fully display on screen and then right-click to save as your new wallpaper. A simple daily reminder of just how special you are...

Start the journey to rediscover yourself. I have. I am.

For wallpaper 800 x 600 click here
For wallpaper 1024 x 768 click here
For wallpaper 1280 x 768 click here

Making Sense

2006-01-02T21:01:00.000+08:00

Here at Modblog, we find ourselves posting our deepest thoughts and pains. Whatever be the reason, whether its because of the anonymity or simply the need for release, I find myself doing the same as well and reading through every other blogger's post filled with anger, angst and pain as much as those filled with joy, victories and milestones.

In my own life, I find myself asking God "Why me?". Constantly. Well, it seems that Im not alone in that one too. The various posts Ive read often ask God the same thing more than "How?" as in "How do I get back on track after this one?"

2005 is one of my hardest years. Its the year that smacked me straight in my face to tell me that conceiving a child wont be easy. I ranted and raved and hewed asking God "Why?" and never did get any answers...

With this story... I think I finally got my answers. I hope you get yours too.

::::::

The surgeon sat beside the boy's bed; the boy's parents sat across from him. "Tomorrow morning," the surgeon began, "I'll open up your heart..."

"You'll find God there," the boy interrupted.

The surgeon looked up, annoyed. "I'll cut your heart open," he continued, "to see how much damage has been done."

"But when you open up my heart, you'll find God in there." The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly.

"When I see how much damage has been done, I'll sew your heart and chest back up and I'll plan what to do next."

"But you'll find God in my heart. My mother says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You'll find Him in my heart."

The surgeon had had enough. "I'll tell you what I'll find in your heart. I'll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I'll find out if I can make you well."

"You'll find God there too. He lives there."

The surgeon left. After the surgery, the surgeon sat in his office, recording his notes: "...damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy: painkillers and bed rest. Prognosis:" here he paused, "death within one year."

He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. "Why?" he asked aloud.

"Why did You do this? You've put him here; You've put him in this pain; and You've cursed him to an early death. Why?"

God answered, "The boy was not meant for your flock for long, for he is a part of My flock, and will forever be. Here, in My flock, he will feel no pain, and will be comforted as you cannot imagine. His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock will continue to grow."

The surgeon's tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. "You created that boy, and You created that heart. He'll be dead in months. Why?"

God answered, "The boy shall return to my flock, for he has done his duty: I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve another lost lamb."

The surgeon wept.

The following day, the surgeon sat beside the boy's bed; the boy's parents sat across from him. The boy awoke and whispered, "Did you cut open my heart?"

"Yes," said the surgeon.

"What did you find?" asked the boy.

"I found God" said the surgeon.

Author unknown

::::::

Maybe... just maybe... our life stories and the things we go through does make sense to others, helps open their eyes to what they are going through or perhaps appreciate what they have a little bit more... Maybe, just maybe our stories make them "see" God in us...

The thought somehow eases my pain... and makes me appreciate the caring, sharing people of Modblog more who openly share their stories... for I see God in them too.

A sharing, caring, wonderful year ahead to all. Happy New Year!

One Simple Wish

2005-12-29T17:07:00.000+08:00

The year is about to close and the new one is about to begin. If you were given a chance to make one simple wish for the coming year WHAT WOULD YOU WISH FOR? (when I mean simple it means that "peace on earth" or "no more war" is definitely out of the question though it would definitely be nice if it were that easy...). Some might wish for a new car. Others would be for a better paying job... or a loving relationship....

What you wish for reveals so much about what drives you or moves you... the longing of your heart...

Me? I honestly believe I have everything I could possibly want and need. I do believe am blessed with one exception... the lack of it has become the root cause of my pain, self-pity and despair...

I wish I'd get pregnant next year... or better yet, I wish that I never lose hope... I wish it more for my husband than me... I wish it more for our parents who looks forward to a grandchild from their eldest child...

My wish, my prayer and my faith all rolled into one --- Twelve new months of wishing it to happen. Twelve new months of trying not to lose hope.

Everything

2005-12-29T16:58:00.000+08:00

May you always know
how appreciated you are.
May you never forget what a blessing
you've become to a world that
could use more people like you.
May you reap the rewards of kindness.
May your sunshine always shine through...

May love walk by your side.
May friendship sing in your smile.
May opportunity remember to knock
on your door and surprise you
once in a while.
May your memories be ones that you
wouldn't trade for anything.
May your hopes and dreams
find ways of coming true.

May you never forget
how dearly I wish a
"Happy Everything" for you.

Have a Happy... Everything
by D.Pagels
::::::

In a world that is always in a rush, it's good to know that I've found a great place where people take the time to share a kind word or two, drop in a "hi", a "hello" or "how are you"... openly share themselves, their thoughts, their learnings and their stories... find comfort in each other's presence... marvel and learn at their differences and find joy in friendships that spans the globe.

As the year closes and I look back at the pace and direction my "healing" is taking, allow me to thank you for everything you've given me and in the same breath wish you a Happy Everything (for lack of a better word to say it... :)

To the friends I've made and to those who will soon be, my deepest thanks.

For Laurie

2005-12-26T12:17:00.000+08:00

I "met" special people in Modblog who now holds a special place in my heart. Laurie is one of them. Its her birthday. Please click the picture and greet her on her special day. Aint it grand that her birthday falls within the season of joy? Twice the reason to celebrate!

God bless you Laurie! :)

PS: Special thanks go to Underthebottomrung for the "reminder"! I honestly didnt know when it was because there wasnt any info available in the MB user profile! Warms hugs to ya Underthebottomrung! I surely would have missed it if not for your post

Find Meaning

2005-12-25T11:43:00.000+08:00

Saying that the last few days have been crazy is an understatement. It was and still leaves much to be desired. Im posting this from a city 2 hours flight away from where I live to spend Christmas with my in-laws (wonderful folks). Slept at 2am. Got up at 5am. Airport at 6am. Flight at 10pm. Flight delayed. Arrived 1:00pm. Lunch at 2pm... You get the picture... Sigh.... Its been like this for the last couple of days - one meeting,one party, one dinner after another....

Since I only get to visit this city about twice a year, I've been invited to conduct a day-long workshop for select college students on the 23rd. I also brought with me all my files and my laptop as I am to finish 1 spread, 2 page ads and 1 postcard insert (advertising materials) over the weekend (yes! Christmas weekend) for approval (via email) as the magazine's cutoff is way past due plus a flash presentation for final tweaking and uploading for another client wanting to have a "better web look" before the new year!

Considering that I'll be where I am only up to the 27th, I dont think the days are enough to finish what I must before I return to work on the 28th.

Whew.

To all my friends who have written me emails, ISMs and other messages, Im sorry for not answering back. I can't hardly breathe... (Laurie, Sherry and Robin -- Im very sorry for not posting back for the last couple of days). I promise to catch up real soon. Im very sorry....

OK. Its Christmas! Enough ranting! LOL!

I may rant and rave and hew all year round except on a few special occassions like Christmas where I try to ponder in silence all the blessings I have been given: work I love to do, people who love me as much if not more than I love them (yup! lucky in THAT department! LOL! probably because I used to NOT have love for me at all), and Modblog friends who truly care even from a distance.

Merry Christmas to my Modblog family who each have been instrumental in my healing and my journey to rediscovering ME. Thank you for making my life richer. I hope you be as blessed as what you made of me by being in my life.

Just Bare Souls

2005-12-19T17:16:00.000+08:00

...just bare souls.

::::::
I believe that faith is stronger than fear.
Even the kind that paralyzes you for a moment
and makes you wish you were dead.
Even the ones that tears your heart out
over and over again with but a memory
Yup.. even the ones that makes you scream in silence
and reel from the voices pounding in your head.
Even those that kept me company for so many years
and gave me the scars on my wrists to show
like badges not of honor but of shame.
Yup. Even those, i found out, can be conquered.
I have so many monsters Ive even named them all
But they no longer have a hold of me anymore...

...well, maybe, sometimes
when I forget
Im bigger than my problems.
Im tougher than my pain.
Im stronger than my fears.
-Rantgirls

::::::

Sometimes my cross is hard to bear
for there is darkness everywhere
and troubles pile around my door
like autumn leaves forevermore.

The morning light seems far away
like I am stuck in yesterday
My heart is beating like a drum
I try to pray, but words won't come

But then the sun begins to rise
and hope is born within my eyes
A rainbow forms among my tears
for faith is stronger than my fears

Author unknown

Double the Power of Now

2005-12-15T22:30:00.000+08:00

My daily mantra of late goes like this: "One day at a time... one day at time..." I've been focusing on the NOW... just the moment... not the past that I can no longer change... not the future that scares me no end... just the NOW that I have the power to influence, to savor, to rejoice in, to live.

That's why for the past several months my reflections have always ended with an affirmation I AM.

Then I chanced upon this short reflection that affirms my choice. I believe I am on the right track... No need for courage. There is no fear. :) I am never alone NOW.

::::::

I was regretting the past and fearing the future.

Suddenly, I heard God speak. "I AM."

He paused. I waited.

He continued, "When you live in the past with its mistakes and regrets, it is hard for you because I am not there. My name is not 'I WAS.'

"When you live in the future with its unknowns and fears, it is hard for you because I am not there. My name is not 'I WILL BE.'

"But when you live in this moment, it is not hard, because I am here.

My name is "I AM."

Author unknown

One simple truth

2005-12-14T19:30:00.000+08:00

Life's Tug-of-War

Life can seem ungrateful and not always kind
Life can pull at your heartstrings and play with your mind

Life can be blissful and happy and free
Life can put beauty in the things that you see

Life can place challenges right at your feet
Life can make good of the hardships that we meet

Life can overwhelm you and make your head spin
Life can reward those determined to win

Life can be hurtful and not always fair
Life can surround you with people who care

Life clearly does offer its ups and its downs
Life's days can bring you both smiles and frowns

Life teaches us to take the good with the bad
Life is a mixture of happy and sad

So.....

Take the life that you have and give it your best
Think positive, be happy let God do the rest

Take the challenges that life has laid at your feet
Take pride and be thankful for each one you meet

To yourself give forgiveness if you stumble and fall
Take each day that is dealt you and give it your all

Take the love that you're given and return it with care
Have faith that when needed it will always be there

Take time to find the beauty in the things that you see
Take life's simple pleasures let them set your heart free

The idea here is simply to even the score
As you are met and faced with Life's Tug Of War

Author unknown

::::::

We are so near Christmas... so near closing a year I didn't think I would survive. My heart was broken into so many tiny pieces I didn't even think it would mend. I started me on the road to self-flagellation when simply blaming me for my lot proved inadequate. I had to hurt me in a variety of creative ways thinking it's the only way I can forgive myself. I ranted and raved and hated myself. I felt damned.

One of my favorite quotes is posted in the upper left corner of my blog. It reads "Forgiveness is letting go of all hope of a better past." It might sound funny to some, witty to others but its too painfully true for me. I kept wishing I had a different past, a different choice, a different chance at things. And the more I wished for these things, the more I hated myself for the choices I've made and the road I have taken. I ranted and raved and hated myself. I felt damned. Nah. I damned myself.

As MsDragon's favorite quote would go "I was breathing and I was calling it 'living'."

I guess its true. Its in total darkness that you get to see even the tiniest speck of light. The tiniest sign of hope and courage, salvation and freedom, forgiveness and love... And yes, peace. Finally, peace.

I don't claim to have had an halleluiah moment. I have a long way to go before I can claim to have had even one. It just that as the year closes I began to recognize a simple basic truth that I never fully appreciated: scarred, scared and all - yes, its good to be alive.

Your lives, your posts, your stories, the thoughts and experiences you share on a daily basis helped me realize that life is a chance and a journey worth taking. My deepest thanks for your daily generosity.

Beauty Secret

2005-12-12T21:20:00.000+08:00

With the endless parties that are classified as a "must-attend," (Im so sorry if Ive not posted lately. Will try to post as regularly as I can.) topped with work deadlines that looms larger than my 16-hour-daily-work-life, my relatively quiet schedule have been turned upside-down, inside-out!

Despite being harrassed, haggard and all, friends I have not seen for a long time comment how I look "different" - stating there seems to be a glow surrounding me nowadays despite looking always in a hurry! (LOL! The "bitch" persona had gone into hiding! LOL!) Two even took me to a corner to ask what's my beauty secret. My beauty secret?!?

Damn.
Simple.
Modblog.

::::::
For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run his fingers through it once a day. For poise, walk with the knowledge you'll never walk alone ... People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed and redeemed and redeemed. Never "throw out" anybody. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm. As you grow older you will discover that you have two hands. One for helping yourself, the other for helping others.
(Author: Sam Levenson)

::::::
Modblog (and my Mobdlog Family!) made me realize I have TWO hands... :)

Your angel's name

2005-12-11T13:30:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born. So one day it asks God "They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?"

God replied, "Among the many angels, I chose one just for you. She will be waiting for you and will take good care of you".

"But tell me, here in Heaven, I don't do anything else but smile and sing, that's enough for me to be happy."

God said, "Your angel will sing for you and will also smile every day. And you will feel your angel's love and be happy."

"And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me, if I don't know the language that men talk?"

God said, "Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak."

"And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?"

God said, "Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray."

"I've heard that on earth there are bad men, who will protect me?"

God said, "Your angel will defend you even if it means risking it's life."

"But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore."

God said, "Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way for you to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you."

At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from earth could already be heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly, "Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name."

God silenced all fear when He said, "your angel's name is of no importance."

"You will simply call her 'Mommy'."

::::::
These are the stories that make me wish I were a mommy. (sigh)
So sorry for keepin' at it like a broken record... :(

Its not the same...

2005-12-10T14:18:00.000+08:00

The Difference

It takes strength to be firm,
It takes courage to be gentle.

It takes strength to stand guard,
It takes courage to let down your guard.

It takes strength to conquer,
It takes courage to surrender.

It takes strength to be certain,
It takes courage to have doubt.

It takes strength to fit in,
It takes courage to stand out.

It takes strength to feel a friend's pain,
It takes courage to feel your own pain.

It takes strength to hide your own pains,
It takes courage to show them.

It takes strength to endure abuse,
It takes courage to stop it.

It takes strength to stand alone,
It takes courage to lean on another.

It takes strength to love,
It takes courage to be loved.

It takes strength to survive,
It takes courage to live.

-Author unknown

::::::

So I take the days as they come. One day at a time. Not of my past that I have yet to embrace and fully forgive. Not of the future that still scares me sleepless at night and leaves me feeling helpless and damned. One day at a time to just BE ME. One day at a time working on my courage. One little step at a time...

One thing Ive learned from the last few months I started blogging is this:
Only those who have the courage can be free.
Only those who are free can BE.

Being Free

2005-12-09T18:41:00.000+08:00

The Dilemma * Author Unknown

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk rejection.
To place your dreams before a crowd is to risk ridicule.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds
is to risk failure.

But risks must be taken because
the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing
does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
He may avoid suffering and sorrows,
but he cannot learn, feel, change, grow, or love.
Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave
- he has forfeited his freedom.

Only a person who takes risks is FREE.

::::::

I believe I am. Im stretching my wings as far as it can go. Am pushing my boundaries to explore the unknown. And above all, Im mustering the courage to be brave enough to face my truths and make them my own.

I might not have a child ever and that will definitely break my heart - thats one of MY truths Ive run away from for so long... but I have vowed to stop punishing myself for it. Enough is enough.

For just owning to THAT simple truth: I call me free.

Toilet Humor - Literally!

2005-12-07T22:58:00.000+08:00

Would you STILL have your appetite here?

Here's a break from writing all that depressing stuff :) Care to have some sundae served like the one on the top left photo? Got this via email from a friend who noticed my posts are getting depressing AGAIN so she sent these to me! LOL! My perk me up brigade to the rescue!

I think these are from Taiwan. Can anyone understand those characters? Anybody knows where this is? Oh this place would be a great way to get into a diet! :)

Happy Eating!

My Christmas Pain

2005-12-06T15:15:00.000+08:00

A PRAYER FOR THE CHILDREN
Author Unknown

We pray for the children who sneak popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.

And we pray for those who stare at photographers
from behind barbed wire,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never "counted potatoes,"
who are born in places where we wouldn't be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an X-rated world.

We pray for children who bring us sticky kisses
and fistfuls of dandelions,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.

And we pray for those who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
whose monsters are real.

We pray for children who
spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store
and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed,
who never rinse out the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at
and whose smiles can make us cry.

And we pray for those whose nightmares
come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and
cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.

We pray for children who want to be carried
and for those who must,
who we never give up on
and for those who don't get a second chance.
For those we smother
and for those who will grab the hand
of anybody kind enough to offer it.

::::
The post in Laurie's blog have begun my education on juvenile diabetes. I know how hard diabetes is for adults. My granny suffered from it. Both my parents are now controlling their diets because they are in danger from it... but kids? My heart bled when I heard about a 6 year old suffering from it from Laurie's blog.

I have a soft spot for kids, my husband more so. He simply adores them. My husband and I are trying so desperately to have even just one for more than a year now. The coming holidays are the most difficult when our friends and their children drop by for a Christmas visit one after the other. I get to see my husband bask at all the attention (hugs and big wet kisses included) he gets from all the children and how quiet he becomes when they leave.

Once in a while I get to read an article or watch the news about abandoned children left out in the cold, hungry and in pain and I always find myself whispering a prayer to the heavens that they be mine instead...

This is my pain magnified tenfold during the holidays. The one thing I dread at the end of every year.

No More Silence

2005-12-05T16:27:00.000+08:00

Thanks for the ISMs and the emails. I got everybody's email addresses except two people who still seems to be "missing." Im trying to update all my links. Feel free to correct me so it points to where you actively blog. I too have a couple of blogs where I copy-paste all my MB posts a day or two after (I also have one in WordPress too!). Im tinkering with another one where Im trying to experiment with blog layouts and stuff (what I began doing when MB went down).

You dont have to remember everything though... All you have to remember is ONE URL - my dotcom

rantgirls.com

(rantgirl with an S was meant to be used as rantgirl's BLOG before). I will always make sure it points to my primary blog. If MB goes down again then it will always point to where you can find me.

No more silence.

Ive been locked up in silence for decades and Ive had enough of it.

A broken home

2005-12-03T19:55:00.000+08:00

Exiles, refugees, the lost,
the betrayed and the broken

Twenty-four hours of checking on the state of the community, lost friends and my vagabond "on-line family"... and the words are hurting more than healing... Modblog is definitely going to change after this recent extended downtime. That is undeniable. Changing to "what" is a question that will be answered in due time I know. I await in trepidation. Modblog is my home and I deeply care as to what it will become.

It will change and the changes will soon become evident...

I have now run across new words like Modblog Exiles, those that have chosen to stay away and set up homes elsewhere and Modblog Refugees, those who went nowhere and everywhere seeking MB groups and setting up multiple temporary blogs like crazy (I considered myself as one less than 48 hours ago) and now choosing to blog in two or more sites just to keep the channels open between them and their "Exiled" friends.

I miss some of them already...

Theres The Lost ones, those who still have to make their presence felt with blogs remaining unupdated for weeks since the first downtime and The Betrayed, those who have lost faith (or trust) in Modblog... some can be considered Exiles or Refugees too.

Finally theres The Broken, the ones that are hurting from the separation of a community once whole. I now belong to the latter...

Coming "home" doesnt feel as great as I was expecting it to be... Feels like home got broken too...

Streams, always the centered quiet soul that she is, just posted some lines that goes:

a new day
sadness and joy
at the end of an end
begin again

...and so I hope.

Body Count

2005-12-02T18:00:00.000+08:00

How changed will the community be?
How many are leaving for good? How many are coming back?
You cant talk plain "statistics" here
when you talk about people you deeply care for..

Feels like doing a body count...
And I dont think its gonna be pretty.

(Sits in the dark waiting...)

Getting my (Blog)Life Back

2005-12-02T16:00:00.000+08:00

But where's everybody?

Will it be like coming home to an empty house? Im scared shitless that after being a vagabond intermittently and for soooo long (and playing bullheaded about going nowhere else but here) I end up going home ALONE...

How much will things change?
Is anybody there?

Please send me your email addresses. Email at the very least will enable me NEVER to lose touch with you again...

(Sinks back into a chair and waits for "family" to arrive...)

rantgirl{at}gmail.com

IM HOME!

2005-12-02T13:59:00.000+08:00

Tired of being a vagabond.

I'm back home.

Modblog Tenacity Bull

2005-12-01T13:14:00.000+08:00

Some words comfort me like warm, tight hugs. Some are like unexpected kisses that leave me surprised and beaming. Others make me think deeply. Some even have the power to drive me to "stillness" and reflection. A few make me laugh out loud or jump up and down crazily as if I am in an invisible trampoline.

I work with words on a daily basis. Its an integral part of my job... But never have I found such pure joy sharing and reading words as I did as when I started to blog.

One of the lasting gifts words have given me are friends... some akin to "family" already as they feel so close to my heart it was near busting when I last checked.

Even the simplest of words
have the power to move people into action.
While the absence of it can devastate.
Silence to people who revel in the power of words
is deafening.

If you happen to be reading this Gorman (by sheer luck in a blog universe that expands by the minute) know this - Your continued silence have hurt a lot of people, destroyed a lot of "homes", separated a lot of "families" and friends that once revelled at the joy and power of words in the place that you built (but seems to have forsaken) which we call HOME.

Do you have any idea of how wonderful the gift you have created and how devastating it was to be taken away? Permanently or forever isnt the issue. Three weeks and counting feels like forever to most of us. Your silence speaks much about how much you care.

Unlike others who claim will never return to MB, I refuse to be angry at you. Im trying to understand. But help me here please...

Understand what? -- Your silence?

Some of us who call MB home and love it so much, hold on to the tiniest speck of hope that youll tell us whats wrong and for HOW LONG. Dont bother with the why. Doesnt matter, well at least to me, as much as when. And that is, if ever.

Why do you drive us to love MB any less?

Are you listening?
Are you there?
Do you care?

Gorman are you listening?

2005-11-28T23:38:00.000+08:00

Gorman are you listening?

There they go... the people behind the community you built that I have grown to love...

They seem settled now. More than that, they sound happy. My heart is torn between rejoicing with them for having found their voices outside MB and crying for I now realize that MB will never be the same without them around...

MB isn't the server, or the admins, or the bells and whistles that made it such an ideal "home". It's the people who shared their lives there, the ones who welcome you with open arms, the caring kind who hugs you with their words when you feel so down and out. I should know... I've been blessed for having known them. I believe I would be so far down my road to healing if it weren't for their daily acts of kindness, love and laughter.

I sure will miss all of them... keeping track of them on a daily basis scattered in three different blogsites... Sigh... and I'm really never good with "distances"... I've lost some good friends because I found it hard to bridge it.

I wish them well. I truly do. I wish them their continued joy of sharing their words, their thoughts and their lives to people like me so we learn from them, reflect or inspire, grow and even live vicariously through each post or story shared.

I wish you can see how lost some are like me and how sad it is to see others leave.

Modblog is all about people. And it just lost some of those who truly considered it "home."

Gorman are you listening?
Are you there?
Do you even care?

My heart is breaking...

2005-11-27T18:09:00.000+08:00

My friends are migrating by the handful to another bloghost and I don't blame them. People who have truly experienced the joy of sharing themselves through words will understand how difficult it is to lose their "voice" when their blog servers go down. It isn't something you take lightly. Their blogs are the personal records of their feelings, their experiences, their works and yes, even their healing just like mine.

I used to laugh sarcastically at people who blog. Being the bitch that I am, I found it hard to understand how people can post their lives online for others to read! It mortified me to think that complete strangers can read how you fucked up your life! Isn't that something you keep to yourself?!

That is, until I had to blog myself to purge my own demons out in the open hoping that in the process I can recognize my own demons, accept them as mine and forgive myself for messing "me" up. No identification. Nothing to point the posts back to me. No personal information. Just a few paragraphs and a bit of courage to click the publish button. That was all it took that changed the way how I will look at blogging forever - a simple post and three immediate comments from people who seemed to care about me.

That was when I discovered the joy of blogging and of hearing from people who understood what I was going through. People who had their own "messes" and their own demons to fight. People who even gave me other ways of looking at my lot from a different perspective - ones that I missed! People whose insights I began to value much and whose hands of friendship I took close to my heart. People scattered all over the world but whose words of comfort embraced me daily.

And now I'm about to lose some of those people.

They will not be just a click away in the same community that gave me healing. I'm losing some of them and it really breaks my heart.

Some have emailed me personally to go with them and try the service out but I'm hanging tough. Yes, I know, I blog here and in two other blogsites but as I've always said these are all just mirrors and my home, the one my domain will always point to is MB - unless its down or until it bows out.

Why am I hanging tough? It's because I'm hoping MB will still straighten itself out somehow I'm hoping against hope that "home" will not be so altered after this. Or am I losing the "spirit" of home too.. I wonder... I wonder if it will ever be the same...

My heart is breaking into so many pieces... as many as the friends am losing daily. Im hurting deeply and nothing can be done about it.

My words are fading...

2005-11-26T14:04:00.001+08:00

Am writing here because I seem to have lost the urge to write... and I write well, basically for me so I can hear myself out. Some call it therapy. Some call it "introspection"... some would call me a loony (LOL) but honestly, tags dont matter. Writing works when I like to hear myself out. I post my deepest thoughts and feelings and then go over them again and again until I get to figure out what I am telling me...

Its close to 3 decades since I wrote something for me. I got caught up doing so many things and spreading myself too thin. I got obsessed too in surpassing other peoples expectations of me and tried to live all their dreams other than mine. In other words, I fucked up. I fucked up real bad. Perfect on the outside, dying on the inside....

So many regrets. So many demons. So many stuff I have to purge from my system. Self-flagellation became a favorite pastime.

Until I stumbled upon Modblog and very hesitatingly wrote my first post FOR me. That was all it took. A very simple post and an immediate post back from people who seemed to care. Definitely not the hi, hello, love your layout stuff but people who seemed to truly understand how it was to be lost. Real people. People who have their own demons to fight too.

I began writing again. Ferociously. My blog became my therapy an instrument to my healing. I "surrounded" myself with people who cheered me on when I felt like giving up and people who "hugged" me when I hated myself. NEVER. I repeat NEVER in my entire life had I felt such sincere support from people I hardly know... whose faces I will never see... whose hands I will never shake. These people became "family" to me.

Im posting this and am crying nonstop because I seemed to have lost my joy to write. Again... I miss my "family" so much. DAMN TOO MUCH am physically hurting inside. I miss being a part of their daily lives as they are of mine. My house burned down to the ground about 10 years ago leaving me with just the clothes behind my back. That was bad... But you know what? THIS IS WORSE.

A few days ago I read Benthere's post about nobody missing modblog as much as she does and I cried. Because I miss it THAT much too that I feel like a refugee or something. I feel so lost. I want my friends back but I havent found all of them yet. They are all scattered out there somewhere... I just dont know where... I seem to have lost my "family" too... as much as my joy for words and the promise of healing it brings...

I miss my home.

Ok some people get to rant about it not being stable enough... not being fast enough to address problems.... not being open enough to share its current status... but HELL thats where I found MY healing. That is where I found my family... That is where I made a HOME... AND DAMN, I MISS IT SOOO MUCH AM PHYSICALLY HURTING.

I honestly think am regressing. I feel like am about to explode. My demons seems to have gathered strength. My regrets have increased their voices a few decibels higher inside my head. Theres so much I want to say to me but I dont even have the urge to write them nor "listen" to myself for that matter. Dont talk to me about words finding a medium. My medium, my home had made me want to write MY words... And now that home isnt where its supposed to be my words seem to be fading as well...

I feel like a refugee. An honest to goodness refugee.
I feel lost.

Dear family,
If youre out there somewhere please please get in touch.
I miss you all terribly and I cant seem to stop crying...

Stupid and Real

2005-11-19T12:02:00.000+08:00

My blogworld can be found in the galaxy named Modblog.
Its part of the planetary system centered on the star called Gorman.The Gorman star had been having solar flares lately causing climactic havoc to the various planetary sytems surrounding it.

(Blog)Life on planet Rant is particularly affected...
(Blog)Life is fast deteriorating...

Several single celled micro organisms have died out in the last 48 hours....It is feared advanced species like Humour (humorousmungorius), Friends (buddies miss-em-bad-ities) and Family (modblongo famili-o) will be severely affected or even lost if the climactic changes do not stabilize (servers) real soon....

It was learned that the planet's sole inhabitant of the race called Rant have begun suffering hallucinations and have been writing/sending stupid posts and SOS messages via paper planes in other (blog)galaxies like Blogspot and Blogswith.Us in the hope of finding assistance.

Planetary life dying - stupid. My blog-life dying - real.
My mind and more pathetically my heart has stopped "writing"... lost for words...

Modblog!

2005-11-19T11:55:00.000+08:00

Its been more than 24 hours...
Please say what you mean and mean what you say...

Update (11/17/05 @4:30AM CT): Modblog will return online later today. We greatly aplogize for Modblog's downtime, and we are taking steps to ensure that this cause will not be an issue in the future. Complere details regarding Modblog's downtime will be posted once it re-opens. We truly appreciate your patience, and we look forward to seeing you back at Modblog!

A refugee's plea....

2005-11-18T12:41:00.000+08:00

Im a refugee... from Modblog. This blog ain't my home. It's just a temporary shelter. If you feel the same way too... go sign up with +cynter at Modblogaddicts. You just might get the much needed email addresses of friends you've "lost" ...

I agree with Laurie - if its the galleries and the templates thats causing havoc to the still unstable servers of Modblog, to heck with the images. I just want my words.... my friends... my bloglife back...

Please please keep posting and writing emails (keep em coming please! rantgirl*at*gmail.com - note no "S").

I miss you guys....

Mobdlog!

2005-11-17T20:08:00.000+08:00

Update (11/17/05 @4:30AM CT): Modblog will return online later today. We greatly aplogize for Modblog's downtime, and we are taking steps to ensure that this cause will not be an issue in the future. Complere details regarding Modblog's downtime will be posted once it re-opens. We truly appreciate your patience, and we look forward to seeing you back at Modblog!

Lost and Homeless

2005-11-17T14:11:00.000+08:00

Modblog!
What happened?
What's wrong?
What?!?

So this is what
it feels like to be
lost and
"homeless."

My blog universe
just plunged
into darkness.

I miss my friends...

Failure and Faith

2005-11-14T18:59:00.000+08:00

It takes a lot of courage and faith to look at failure THIS way.

Lessons on Failure
Author Unknown

Failure does not mean
I'm a failure;
Just that I have
not yet succeeded.
Failure does not mean
I have accomplished nothing;
Just that
I have learned something.
Failure does not mean
I have been a fool;
Just that I had enough
faith to experiment.
Failure does not mean
I have disgraced;
Just that I have dared to try.
Failure does not mean I don't have it;
Just that I have something to do
in a different way.
Failure does not mean I am inferior;
Just that I am not perfect.
Failure does not mean
I have wasted my life;
Just that I have an excuse to start over.
Failure does not mean
that I should give up;
Just that I should try harder.
Failure does not mean that I will never make it;
Just that I need more practice.
Failure does not mean that
God has abandoned me;
Just that He has a better idea.
:::::::
and Im waiting for it to happen...

and so I add these lines, my own...
Failure does not mean empty when nothing else is left
Just that I failed to consider "Faith" in the equation.
I believe that the greater the failure the greater the faith required to see it through. And boy, do I need tons of it to see me through the things Im going through right now... (see previous post)

An Invitation

Feel free to add your Failure lines that goes:
Failure does not mean...
Just that...

and if the contributions go well I promise to create a page for it just like the I've Learned page =) By the way, if you havent noticed it yet, I've added some new pages on the right column of my blog. Click the links or send them to your loved ones. Feel free to use the pages any way you want. Modblog is a sharing community. Im privileged to do my part =)

Have a nice weekend

Signposts and MO-MOtags

2005-11-12T11:01:00.000+08:00

I would like to believe that our lives are marked by signposts. Some we choose to follow. Others, we choose to ignore. They are just that however - signposts that mark a particular phase in our lives... a turning point that marks a space in time when who you are is no longer and who you are becoming has begun.

Some signposts are marked with the death of a loved one, a separation, failure or regret... an opportunity missed or not taken. Some are more joyful marked with a birth, a marriage, an accomplishment, an awakening. You define and choose you signposts. They dont choose you. They just are - signs. You make them your own to be able to remember vividly when you take the time to look back at your life.. and more deeply at particular moments.

Gabriel's Trumpet MO-MOed me (another Me-Me/Mo-Tag with a twist - definitely more difficult to answer). I had to look back at all my signposts to be able to answer "half a life ago." As I looked back I noticed that most of my signposts stand during moments when I felt empty from achieving much. Definitely not joyous... but not sad either. Just empty because I wasn't IN the moment. I was living somebody elses dream.

Honestly? No regrets here. Perhaps because I loved her so much I was willing to live her dreams rather than mine then. Now? She has finally let me go to live mine (a little late but glad to be free)... Cheers me on with every joyful signpost and holds my hand with every heartbreaking one. This tag definitely speaks so much about me than what I feel I'm ready to post... If GabrielsTrumpet thought of me brave enough to do this... then I guess I am ready.

Your signposts speaks so much of you and the life you've led. What are your signposts like? A recent hard breaking signpost Ive erected was when my doctor said it would be difficult for me to conceive a child.... So there Gabriel. Ive said it. Ive said my GREATEST regret and my greatest fear (just taking quite a while to own them)... sigh...

::::::

GabrielsTrumpet: The question is "If you were to die this instant, assuming you had consciousness of some kind afterward, what would the sum total of your life be? What would be the lesson, or the story, or the impression left by your life?"

Rantgirls Half a life ago
What makes you so afraid of loving and being loved? What makes you define yourself by how others saw you and how much you have achieved? So you've had all the titles you can have, so what? Big deal. My ass. Pieces of paper and trophies that say you're good dont make you "you". I wish I had more fun. Wish I didnt take life too seriously. Wish I said NO more often to others and more YES to myself. Wish I played more, relaxed more, acted normal once in a while. Didn't play safe, risked much, learned from failures and be brave enough to admit them... Where did the growingup years go? From baby to adult isnt normal. I guess I wasnt born to be... uhmmmmmm... "normal." I hope my mom is happy. I lived my life for her. If shes happy then I guess I am. I guess am happy to have made her and everybody proud. Im happy then for not being normal if normal isnt what she wanted. Had quite a run... I just wish I had fun.
In a sentence: Ive done what I can, wish it was enough.

Rantgirls This instant
I think I did good. Feel blessed for not having to want anything. I wonder what made me so lucky? Wish I shared more of the blessings I had in abundance. Loved more and cared less if I was never loved back. Tried new stuff and not be so afraid of failure. Extended a little more because I think there was more of me than I think I have. There must be so much out there that I havent tried or experienced. Could that have made me better?... or different? I guess so... But Im happy with what I have. I feel blessed. Quite a life. Had quite a run...
In a sentence: So little to want and so much to share.

Rantgirls Ten years from now
Whatever I lacked I found in the people who loved me and whom I loved. Whatever I failed to do I forgive myself for I did what I felt was best at the moment a decision had to be made. Whatever mistakes I made, I own them and have become more human from failing than achieving. I have no regrets for I have learned from them. I searched for goodness in people in the hope of finding God. And I believe I did. I hope they found God in me too. Thanks for a great run... and yes, I finally had fun.
In a sentence: I am. (silent contentment)

::::::

Try this MO-MOtag if you feel youre up to a deep introspection... I'd love to tag MsDragon but I know shes going through so much now... I believe this is just Streams' cup of tea! She has a magical way with words.... I TAG STREAMS!

Funny how I can get through this tag and not feel depressed... just a teensy-weensy but sad. =

Miracles for Free

2005-11-10T17:22:00.000+08:00

Heres an excerpt from an email sent to me by msdragon when i was woozy and in need of something to cheer me up. (Hi, MD hope you dont mind I share this. So precious to keep to myself...)

::::::::::

A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.

Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!

"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question

"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick.. and I want to buy a miracle."

I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.

"His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now So how much does a miracle cost?"

"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening a little.

"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."

The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"

I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money."

How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.

"One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly. "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to."

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers."

He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need."

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?"

Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...one dollar and eleven cents .... plus the faith of a little child.. In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need.. A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.

A ball is a circle, no beginning, no end.
It keeps us together like our Circle of Friends.
But the treasure inside for you to see
is the treasure of friendship you've granted to me.
Today I pass the friendship ball to you.
Pass it on to someone who is a friend to you.

I wish you a miracle too msdragon. Whatever it is your heart truly desires.

How come we easily believe the impossible if its backed by science but not the improbable when its based on faith? Have we lost our childlike innocence so fast that believing by sheer faith is equal to loosing one's marbles? I even would like to believe being "lucky" is in fact having a "miracle" by itself... Just like my being lucky in finding a man who will wake up at 3am to give me a massage to ease my migraine attack (wink). THAT just can't be luck. THAT by itself is a miracle. LOL. My favorite "faith" line can be found at the top left corner of my blog:

When we walk to the edge
of all the light we have
and take the step into the
darkness of the unknown,
we must believe that
one of two things will happen.
There will be something solid
for us to stand on or
we will be taught to fly.
- Patrick Overton

I also wish my friend Humphrey the miracle of health... please continue praying for my friend. I dont think he's healing as expected...

I wish Laurie the miracle of instant chicken dishes. I wish Lisa the miracle of cars that dont breakdown at night. I wish Amanda the miracle of true love. I wish Wendy the miracle of a fulfilling new job and great dancing feet. I wish Allison more than just a glimmer of hope but a bright blinding light. I wish Blue the miracle of unending pocket fluffs to share. I wish Heavensdevil (and me!) migraine free years. I wish Streams.... ahhh... naahhhh. Streams is a miracle by herself. (wink)

Thank you for making feel great despite the woozy spells. im about 70% up (just like the modblog servers =))

PS: Dont thank me for this inspiring post. Thank msdragon. Better yet, click her hugggsss button. She'd love that. =)

Feeling Lucky at 3AM

2005-11-09T18:27:00.000+08:00

I suffer from monster migraines that incapacitate me about twice a year. I have undergone so many series of tests and the doctors have found nothing wrong except that I work long hours on my computer and my eyes and back badly need a break.

The monster migraine started to attack again two days ago. The pounding inside my head for the last 48 hours was so bad I woke up after 3 hours of restless sleep last night and just started to quietly cry. I have a high threshold to pain but the pain was THAT bad so I just started to sob.

My hubby woke up (considering he is a heavy sleeper and he had a long day shooting some photos) and saw the pain I was in (he just took me from a massage by a therapist to relax me and ease my tensions about 4 hours before), got up and started to gently massage me from the head down to my shoulders and back... all at three in the morning.

I just fell asleep under his strong but gentle hands.

I woke up today a bit woozy but without the pounding pain.

My hubby and I have our major differences. Somebody said people in creative fields tend to be an emotional lot. We as a creative couple have learned to live with the "need for space and need to bond swinging in both directions at the same time" for the last fifteen years. Dont get me wrong... we do fight too... but we fight as fiercely as we bond...

But last night? Last night the simple loving act of a wonderful massage in the middle of the the night to ease my pain made me whisper a prayer of thanks for the wonderful man I married.

Cheating Death: The MOTag

2005-11-08T15:13:00.000+08:00

The secret of being fully alive is dying before you actually do. I read that line somewhere and it got me thinking... Those who truly, deeply appreciate life are the ones who know we have so little time. As I have stated in a previous post - you can refuse to talk about death, refuse to listen to anything that has something to do with it, even refuse to acknowlege the idea of death but the reality will still not change. It is a fact. And it will come.

Some of us constantly live in state of regret for not being able to express our love to people who have suddenly been taken from our lives. Thats why I dont like going to funerals. I like to grieve for my loss alone. The pain is magnified a thousand fold when I get to see and hear so many people whose lives were equally touched by the person who died. Death has suddenly "come close" to scare and jolt me again. A good friend of mine, one of the most well-admired people in his chosen career who loved life and celebrates it every single moment (infecting us dreary folks in the process) suddenly collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. One moment he was just his terrific infectious self, another he was just so still...

Aneurysm some common friends suspect as he lay in coma in the neuro-ICU of a hospital. I was in shock when I heard the news. Everybody was. I dont know anybody who has ever survived aneurysm, if that was what hit him. All the ones I knew just suddenly died. Thats why I cringe each time I hear the "A" word.

That was a couple of days ago. Two days after the incident a collegue sent me a cellphone text message that our friend is awake. He cant speak but with he can register recognition with his eyes. The last update Ive received was that my friend sleeps constantly and that his brain is under constant "pressure" - from what or for how long or why - we all have yet to find out outside his immediate family. The doctors said that he has agood chance of "recovering"... And I feel somewhat relieved... but can't speak? This guy talked non-stop! It was with his stories, anecdotes and jokes that people got drawn to him. He loved to mentor. Damn he loved to share whatever he learned! He loved to laugh out loud! I dread to hear news that his condition might be permanent... or a more serious neuro damage had happened and will be diagnosed soon... I dunno... the pessimist in me I guess.. Im afraid for my friend. We all are...

My friend brimmed with life and love for it. My mind will not be able comprehend if ever he wont be able to go back to being his normal bubbly self... if he cant express himself... And I cant even think if the same thing were to happen to me and I wont even be able to wake up from coma, not be able to express myself... not being able to say goodbye...

I'd like to cheat Death and prevent it from robbing me the pleasure of saying goodbye with style! =) So I begin this tag - the MOTAG - MOrbid TAG (My apologies to those who have grown tired of this) but I hope the tag will move you to think deeply and appreciate life more fully. This is not meant to scare you or make you feel depressed. If you feel youve been offended with the tag, accept my deepest apologies and refuse to answer any of the questions. I drafted this post about a week ago but chickened out from posting it thinking it just might be too morbid for some. But Laurie's comment in a previous post somehow "assured" me that yup, people who love life have a deep respect for death. With Thanksgiving just around the corner this I believe, would be a great way to put people in a REALLY thankful mood! - thankful to be alive! LOL! So here it is -- the MOTag. Lets see how far this goes...

Modblog MOTag! Im IT!

The question is: If you had less than 24 hours to live...
Q1: What would be the last five things that you would do?
Q2: Who would be the last three people you would be with?
Q3: What would be your last words?
Q4: What do you like written in your tombstone? (of course its supposed to be short and sweet!)

My answers:
What would be the last five things I would do:
I will write a long letter each to the people I love/Ive hurt to be opened upon my death
I will design, write and upload my final webpage with the title "See you soon!" -ROFLOL
I will have a vavavoom photo taken of me (by my photographer hubby) so friends will "remember" me the way I want them to and not with the horrid pictures that get displayed in funerals. - LOL
I will have great sex - and I mean GREAT! - LOL
I will post my final modblog entry =)

Who would be the last three people I will be with?
My family
My five "bestest" girlfriends who managed to see beyond my "weirdness" and my constant ranting - LOL
My hubby (with all our SIX dogs)
(ok, ok I know THATS cheating but I counted GROUPS not HEADS! sorry =))

What would be my final words?
Ive lived fully. Ive loved unconditionally. I am.

Tombstone:
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. -Kahlil Gibran (thank you streams!)

---
(Now go do the last five things you just wrote for Question #1 while you still have the time to do so! - LOL) I tag five to start this off (and i do pray they dont get offended with this...): streams, lauriesasylum, msdragon, @deepblue and m01027 (sorry jared, this is just too meaningful for me to pass YOU up...wink..and yes, Ill wait for your tag post until the NEXT weekend!) my deepest apologies to the five people tagged if you find this too morbid. oh, that is except deepblue (wink).

To the five people I just tagged... thanks for indulging me. Have a thankful week ahead! =). And please... Your prayers or good wishes (if youre an atheist) for the swift recovery of my friend Humphrey will be highly appreciated... Much love.

PS: Ill try to snap out of this morbidity streak... Promise! =)

Feeding Wolves

2005-11-06T23:54:00.000+08:00

Two Wolves (Unknown Author)

An old Grandfather, whose grandson came to him with anger at a schoolmate who had done him an injustice, said, "Let me tell you a story. I too, at times, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times. It is as if there are two wolves inside me; one is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offence when no offence was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way."

"But the other wolf, ah! He is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit."

The boy looked intently into his Grandfather's eyes and asked, "Which one wins, Grandfather?"

The Grandfather solemnly said, "The one I feed."

It took about ten seconds for the story to register inside my lame, hate-filled brain to realize Ive fed the "wrong" one... Hate doesnt "fill you up" unless you feed it. Hate your friend? Hate your loved one? Hate your boss? Hate yourself? (Oh boy, I know this line very well...) Hate the world? When you have chosen to hate, then you've chosen to feed it. You are not just its "Keeper" but its food. You feed it with your soul... until you have so little love left even for yourself.

I should know. Feeding the wrong one almost killed me.
Think about it.

Have a great weekend.

I am NOT here

2005-11-05T11:59:00.000+08:00

So here I go again having "morbid" thoughts.... From where I come from, All Souls Day is a day to devoted to visiting the graves of our departed loved ones with the rest of the family and the clan. Its in the cementeries or in the columbariums we gather together to pray, to catch up with other relatives, or simply enjoy each other's company. Last November 1 I visited the remains of my grandmothers and grandfathers (from my mother and my fathers' sides) as well as my favorite grand aunt in the company of my parents and my husband. My grandparents' ashes are all housed in one columbarium at the back of an old church.

Its been two years since I visited their remains to pay my respects and to pray with my family. I grew up with my grandmother taking care of me because my mom was so busy then with her job. My grand aunt spoiled me to death with the most beautiful toys my parents cannot even afford to buy for me then. Both pushed me to excel in my studies egging me to follow the academic achievements of my parents. Both had a great influence on me as I grew up... on how I saw, felt and thought about things... I think I not only achieved much but became a "proper lady" largely because of them. They dotted on me continuously and persistently even as I grew up into adolescence and began to resent how they still treated me as a child...

...I miss them both terribly. I had to hold my husband's hand tightly so I wouldn't cry when we arrived at the columbarium. So many happy-sad memories...

Visiting columbariums and cementeries instills in me a deeper appreciation of life NOT FEAR. I looked around at the different tombstones noting their birth and death dates. Some lived to be more than a hundred while some lived and died on the same day. One lived to be a day less than her 21st birthday... As I read the one-liners etched in the different tombstones I wondered how mine would read when its my turn to die. I decided I want mine to read:

Do not weep. I am not here.

Told my husband about it but like the rest, he found the idea and the discussion quite morbid and told me to drop it. The lines Ive chosen are from a poem I read and kept for about a decade now, shared by a friend via email. It goes:

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sun-light on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quite birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.

How would yours read?
Have you thought about it?

I read in a book that the secret to living is dying before you actually do.
Somehow it makes sense...

Modblog Gems

2005-11-04T13:40:00.000+08:00

Somebody I know misses her friend badly (see previous post). Another has stepped into a vicious cycle of hating herself (just as I am about to step out of it), while another begins a new life away from her husband of several years. One just passed his presentation, another studies hard to pass his (in his beautiful blue room!) while still another feels angst for not being able to find any blouse that will fit her perfectly... a very simple honest joy really..Another just had a Halloween party (that I wished with all my heart I were able to attend!) while another "celebrated" her milestone with a post (or was it a turning point?.. and yes, I silently celebrated with her). I get my daily dose of inspiration from a handful of bloggers with their stories and their daily insights and then get to plant my feet more firmly on the ground with others who miss their flat irons, clean their cars in the middle of the night or pine for their loved ones.

I fly with some to heights of inspiration and I walk with others in deep and silent introspection. Daily Modblog entries that are just that -- "posts" from people I don't think I'll ever meet but whose daily lives somehow deeply touched mine.

I see myself in most of them and feel (or imagine I could) what they must be going through. Somehow knowing all of them has made my life "richer" and in moments of "centering", have opened my eyes to what I have not seen, appreciated, or valued. A daily line of "Hi" or "Hello", an ISM of thanks, a comment on a post lift my spirit more than the daily words of commendation or praise I get from people around me. Perhaps NOT having met a single soul from Modblog has given them (to me) a more real feeling of sincerity. They "feel" more real to me than some people I meet on a daily basis! And yes, much honesty too...

Stegaluna is one of the few I know who have resisted the call of having another blog other than Modblog. I have "lost" some "favorite people" who have left Modblog because of the server problems (and how I miss them) but as I've said in a previous post, it was when the blogs looked the same that the words made it so different. Me? I have one on standby (a mirror) in case I can't post when Modblog goes 100% down (blogging has become part of my therapy).

And so here's to the company I plan to keep. Here's to the people whose lives have touched mine... Here's to the blogs I regularly visit, read or happen to come by... those I "claim" as friends and get so much learnings from (to help me "heal" faster)...

Heres to you Modblog!

May you always feel loved
may you find serenity and tranquility
in a world you may not always understand.

May the pain you have known
and conflict you have experienced
give you the strength to walk through life
facing each new situation with courage and optimism.

Always know that there are those
whose love and understanding
will always be there, even when you feel most alone.

May you discover enough goodness in others
to believe in a world of peace.

May a kind word, a reassuring touch, a warm smile be yours
every day of your life, and may you give these gifts
as well as receive them.

Remember the sunshine when the storm seems unending.

Teach love to those who know hate,
and let that love embrace you as you go into the world.

May the teaching of those you admire become part of you,
so that you may call upon them.
Remember, those whose lives you have touched
and who have touched yours are always a part of you,
even if the encounters were less than you would have wished.
It is the content of the encounter
that is more important than it's form.

May you not become too concerned with material matters,
but instead place immeasurable value on the goodness in your heart.
Find time in each day to see the beauty and love in the world around you.

Realize that each person has limitless abilities,
but each of us is different in our own way.
what you may feel you lack in one regard
may be more than compensated for in another.
What you feel you lack in the present
may become one of your strengths in the future.

May you see your future as one filled with promise and possibility.
Learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience.

May you find enough inner strength
to determine your own worth by yourself,
and not be dependent on another's judgement
of your accomplishments.

May you always feel loved.
Copyright 1987 Sandra Sturtz Hauss

For Amanda

2005-11-03T12:48:00.000+08:00

Simple friends vs. Real friends (Author Unknown)

A simple friend can stand by you
when your right,
but a real friend will stand by you even when youre wrong...

A simple friend identifies himself
when he calls,
but a real friend doesn't have to.

A simple friend opens a conversation
with a full news bulletin on his life.
A real friend says "What's new with you?"

A simple friend thinks the problems you whine about are recent.
A real friend says, "You've been whining about the same thing
for 14 years. Get off your duff and do something about it."

A simple friend has never seen you cry.
A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.

A simple friend doesn't know your parents' first names.
A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.

A simple friend brings a bottle of wine to your party.
A real friend comes early to help you cook
and stays late to help you clean up.

A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed.
A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.

A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems.
A real friend seeks to help you with you problems.

A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.
A real friend could blackmail you with it.

A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.

A simple friend thinks the friendship is over
when you have an argument.
A real friend knows that it's not a friendship
until after you've had a fight.

A simple friend expects you to always be there for them.
A real friend expects to always be there for you.

Seek your Dharma. Seek your Truth.

2005-11-02T14:23:00.000+08:00

Got this via email. Posting verbatim
:::::::

"Your goal is to find out Who You Are."

- A Course in Miracles

I heard a story once about an eagle's egg that got lost or abandoned and was found by chickens. When the eagle hatched, it was loved and cared for by the chickens, brought up to act and behave as if it was a chicken. It knew nothing else but be a chicken. One day, as the eagle was pecking at the ground with hischicken brothers and sisters (just like any other normal chicken), he saw something cast a fast moving shadow on the ground. This made him look up to the sky. High above he saw a majestic sight - a beautiful bird soaring gracefully in the sky. Something stirred inside of him.. perhaps a remembrance, perhaps a recognition of "home."

He asked the chickens, "What is that beautiful bird up there?" The chickens looked up. "Oh that," they said, "that's an eagle, king of the birds. Now forget about him. You are a chicken. Go peck the ground."

I don't know how the story ended and to me, it is not a case of an eagle being superior to a chicken... just different. The same story has been told in the Ugly Duckling where the swan gently and magnificently glides in the water because it "called" him, because he felt he can..leaving his duck family on the shore.

As I understand it, it's all just about remembering who we truly are regardless of what we've been told by others or how we have been brought up. A rose will grow into a rose even if it's in the middle of a field of tulips.

There is an ancient Indian word Dharma, which has two meanings. The first is, "Your nature, your true, real, essential nature." The second is, "Your purpose in life". To me the two are inseparable. I believe the word literally translates as Truth.
:::::::

Eagle or chicken? Duck or swan? Listen to the "call" only your heart can hear...
Seek your Dharma. Live as you were meant to.

Remember. I am.

Have a great week ahead.

Brain Reboot

2005-10-31T21:24:00.000+08:00

The loss of awareness of who you are beyond name or form... it is hard to find a name that precisely describes this emotion. "Fear" comes close, but apart from a continuous sense of threat, it also includes a deep sense of abandonment and incompleteness. It may be best... to simply call it pain.

Emotional pain...its a deep-seated sense of lack or incompleteness, of not being whole. In some people this is conscious... in others unconscious. If its conscious,it manifests as the unsettling and constant feeling of not being worthy or good enough. It is its unconscious, it will only be felt indirectly as an intense craving, wanting and needing. In either case people will often enter into a compulsive pursuit of ego-gratification and things to identify with in order to fill this hole they feel within. So they strive after possesions, money, success, power, recognition, or a special relationship, basically so that they can feel good about themselves, feel more complete. But even when they attain all these things, they soon find that the hole is still there, that it is bottomless. Then they are really in trouble, because they cannot delude themselves anymore.
-Excerpts from the book: The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle

The lie.

I used to think I was searching for ME... the "lost" me -- that was why I felt "not whole." Some friends called it losing my "happiness plug" - cause the happiness just seemed to have drained out of me... Its only now that I get to realize that ME = Happiness. No other fancy equation to it. No eureka or halleluiah moments. One simple truth: you only get to be happy if you ARE whole. I was neither - not happy and definitely not whole.

Why... a lot of people wondered why I felt miserable. I had everything "THEY" could possibly want (well almost everything i have such simple, uncomplicated needs and wants - shelter, food, little conveniences, loving people who understood my idiosyncrasies) - but "I" felt empty.

I wanted the "old" me back. The one with few regrets. The one with simple joys. The one who "felt" good about herself.The one who loved life but didnt "get caught" in it...

Stupid me. I forgot that SHE GREW UP. The thought of "change" escaped me. The thought that I was wishing to regress back to the old me never crossed my mind... probably because I failed to recognize the ME that I saw (or tried to act blind) - so I wished her "lost" or fooled myself into thinking she "left" me...

The truth

Well the truth finally struck me hard on the face that I am ME... changed...whether I accept it or not is irrelevant. I AM. I have become the result of all the conscious and unconscious choices I have made... all the thoughts, desires, regrets, dreams and emotions that I either denied or warmly embraced. It is only now that I realize, accepted and forgave ME for what I have become that I know MY PEACE isnt that far away...(nahh come to think of it... am still accepting and forgiving ME as I write this and its gonna take quite a while I believe)

and then... ONLY then... can I begin my journey to BECOMING a true reflection of MY SOUL.

No. My journey to myself hasnt ended. Im just removing the word "back" because you cant turn back time or go live life with half of you struck in the past and the other half in the present. My journey has just begun with both feet plated in the NOW.

I AM.

...now if I can just get past these d*mn regrets (sigh)... working on it!

"Your goal is to find out
Who You Are."

- A Course in Miracles

Brain Under Rehab

2005-10-30T12:58:00.000+08:00

I asked for strength and
God gave me difficulties to make me strong

I asked for wisdom and
God gave me problems to solve

I asked for prosperity and
God gave me brawn and brains to work

I asked for courage and
God gave me dangers to overcome

I asked for patience and
God placed me in situations where I was forced to wait

I asked for love and
God gave me troubled people to help

I asked for favors and
God gave me opportunities

I received nothing I wanted
I received everything I needed

My prayer has been answered

-author unknown

Blind No Longer

2005-10-29T16:40:00.000+08:00

My Revelation

"I cannot live with myself any longer." This was the thought that kept repeating itself in my mind. Then suddenly I became aware of what a peculiar thought it was. "Am I one or two? If I cannot live with myself, there must be two of me: the 'I' and the 'self' that 'I' cannot live with." "Maybe," I thought, "only one of them is real."
-Excerpts from the Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle

A turning point.

Rarely do I get to read a book that slaps me across the face so I would at the very least open up my eyes to the "reality" I claimed as my "truth." I couldnt find the right words to describe it. "Revelation" comes close I guess...

Here I am claiming to "journey back to ME" when all the while my "me" IS "am" and the one travelling isnt.(Yes. You can read that line over again.)
I know it sounds too vague but thats how close I can go to describing my "revelation." I thought I was "looking" for me because I believed I "lost" her along the way. I didnt realize that my awareness that I wasnt whole somehow gave ME back in a form I didnt recognize....

...and all i had to do was open my eyes and realize "I AM."

Im not the person I was then...
and neither am I the ME I strive to become...
but hey, I AM
and thats the truth where it should all start
as I begin another journey -
the journey to BECOMING the person I was meant to BE.

THIS TRUTH will take a while to sink in.

I would have to go back to this post and read it again and again and again....

People dont lose themselves. They just become... Assume another form that is sometimes so hard to recognize or too much to take that one would rather deny the new form as a part of the YOU you are becoming or want to become. We dont run away from ourselves. We dont leave ourselves behind. We dont lose ourselves like I always claimed I did. We just refuse to see the truth of who we are becoming. We are either afraid or have suddenly become blind. Well... am blind no longer.

::::::::
My deepest thanks to GabrielsTrumpet for telling me the book is a MUST read. And yup, am changing my blog description to Journey to Becoming.

Tagged by 3! Dang!

2005-10-28T12:24:00.000+08:00

DeepBlue! THIS was a lot harder than the first tag! the first tag was easy! i beg to disagree Laurie!, this one was hard! - LOL. being on an island is like a "break" for me - and i normally dont have those . now am itching to get me a leave of absence! d*mn! (lol). elentari might have had an easy time with this... but boy, this one was real tough... =) now i just want to pack my bags and go!

dang! the only easy tag here is the fact that I AM an aspiring beachbum! (my dream job) and you can leave me on the beach alone for hours and i wouldnt miss a thing( well, except a cold glass of water-lol!) my favorite haunt is Boracay. my dream island is Amanpulo (that is when i get my hands on a HUGE amount of money! - lol)

where: one of the islands of Palawan... preferably Amanpulo.
book: Conversations with God series (down to the workbooks)
film: LOTR series
music: songs by stacey kent or carole king or everything by sting!
partner: i gotta learn to appreciate and love my own company so ill wing it alone (right blue?/wink)
essential item: my soul... at peace.
thing you cant have but want: coffee mocha ice cream! - UNLIMITED supply OR five-cheese pizza would be heavenly!
clothed or nude: dont look good either way so i guess it wont matter.
saved or stay? even if i got saved, i feel my soul would still be "lost"... so i guess it wont matter too.

since i got tagged by three people (@deepblue, lauriesasylum and elentari) am tagging three too: streams, allisonchem and msdragon. i know m01027 doesnt like chains.. but i sure would like to tag him too!

ps: boy that was tough... my shihtzu and my hubby both wanted to go when they heard about Amanpulo!- lol.

Lost Souls

2005-10-26T17:08:00.000+08:00

I lately have been questioning a lot of things around me... trying to separate truths from the lies --- all in an effort to define and "journey" back to "me"... none however comes close to voicing all that i feel than these lines... author unknown.
The Paradox Of Our Age
We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers;
wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints;
we spend more, but have less;
we buy more, but enjoy it less.

We have bigger houses and smaller families;
more conveniences, but less time;
we have more degrees, but less sense;
more knowledge, but less judgment;
more experts, but more problems;
more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much,
spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
drive too fast, get too angry too quickly,
stay up too late, get up too tired,
read too seldom, watch TV too much,
and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.
We talk too much, love too seldom and lie too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life;
we've added years to life, not life to years.

We've been all the way to the moon and back,
but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.

We've conquered outer space, but not inner space;
we've done larger things, but not better things;
we've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul;
we've split the atom, but not our prejudice;
we write more, but learn less;
plan more, but accomplish less.

We've learned to rush, but not to wait;
we have higher incomes; but lower morals;
more food but less appeasement;
more acquaintances, but fewer friends;
more effort but less success.

We build more computers to hold more information,
to produce more copies than ever, but have less communication;
we've become long on quantity, but short on quality.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion;
tall men, and short character; steep profits, and shallow relationships.
These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare;
more leisure and less fun; more kinds of food, but less nutrition.

These are days of two incomes, but more divorce;
of fancier houses, but broken homes.
These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers,
throwaway morality, one-night stands,
overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill.

It is a time when there is much in the show window and nothing in the stockroom.

:::::::
What's happening to us?
Have we lost our souls?
Has "empty" become the "norm" and nobody even noticed how low we've come?

Just take a minute and think about it.

When its time to go...

2005-10-24T17:45:00.001+08:00

Lets get morbid.
The thought of my mortality just struck me.
...We all die.

(some at this point would refuse to read further, some would say i've cracked up... still others would read on trying to understand that hey, thats something that will eventually come whether i think about it, refuse to think about it or totally ignore it.. so there, read on but im posting this for "me") some would say nothing matters. some would say that the fact we all know that we would eventually die should matter. because we would then treat whatever time we do have left as something truly precious.

and so we strive to be different. we strive to make our mark. a better job?.. a higher-paying job. a house? a mansion. a car? a fancier car. a college degree? a phD... a couple of degrees? you get the point... i got caught in it and am guilty...the stupidity never ends.

why do we define ourselves by what we have and strive to make our marks with things and titles that have become the standards by which we measure success? have we become so afraid of mediocrity and detest ourselves so much that we now define who we are by anything not WITHIN us?

hey, im not starting to pontificate or to assume a holier-than-thou know-it-all bitch attitude. nope. quite the contrary. am questioning because im afraid... of death? nah. its just another stage. its a truth you cant run away from... am afraid of not doing as much as i can with whatever time i have left.

have i loved enough? have i made ME the way i was meant to be? have i touched lives and hearts as kindly and as warmly as people have touched mine? have i lived my life to the full?... and can i leave it without regrets when i look back and take my final breath?

come to think of it... the idea of death makes life more beautiful.... and truly precious.... God truly has a unique way of working at contradictions so we get the picture - clearly.

this line of thought came about as I started reading Neil Gaiman's Sandman series. bought books 1-6 and I love it most specially the character of Death (so cool, as blue would say, "i said cool, now shoot me") with lines that go:

"For some folks death is a release, and for others death is an abomination, a terrible thing. But in the end, Im there for all of them.... When the first living thing existed, I was there waiting. When the last living thing dies, my job will be finished. I'll put the chairs on the tables, turn out the lights and lock the universe behind me when I leave."

Seek your truths.
Measure yourself with your own yardstick
- the one you have INSIDE.
Live life without regrets.
Its the last line Im having such a tough time to do...
Damn.

Honestly... What would be the last thing you'll ever do if you knew you're about to die? Me? Seek forgiveness i guess... from those Ive hurt... most especially myself. Another way of saying that is "Seek Peace".

I am.

Back to Normal Modblog?

2005-10-22T21:20:00.000+08:00

funny how my journey back to myself is now greatly affected by people i hardly know... people whose faces i might never see or hands i may never touch. and funny how some of them have touched my heart more deeply than the ones that surround me on a daily basis.

its their wonderful stories i guess. their daily angst, regrets, failures, joys and truths that makes them more real to me than the people i actually get to meet. its their willingness to share... and to listen... to advice... and to prod when people like me think that we have no courage left to take even just a single step... when people refuse to believe that theres still hope for whatever it is they suffer from or cause them pain.

oh some of them get to rant (more fiercely than the others) about how they want their blog looks "back" and how they miss their gallery images... and how they wish modblog would be back to "normal". but you know what? it was when the blogs looked the "same" that the more they became "different." i got to see more of the w-o-r-d-s. and each blog stood out so differently from the rest.

oh dont get me wrong. i'd love to have my blog "template" and my images back. but not to "define" my blog anymore or to make it "different." it is very "different" now as it is. i see each blog as unique as the person who willingly shares his or her innermost thoughts and experiences. that is as "different" as it can get... now i dont get to say how great the layout is or how cool the images were... i get to read and comment about the w-o-r-d-s... i learn from them... and some i even keep for myself...

oh i sure do wish i can get to see the faces... shake the hands... and give real warm big hugs to those whose lives have touched mine in more ways than they can ever imagine...

so when are we going back to "normal" modblog? (though am not that in a hurry anymore.. it was the words that counted and gave "comfort"... the images were just "gravy")
PS: i do hope it isn't just me who "feels" this way...

To the modblog folks (who let me read their posts ), I wish you...

Enough happiness to keep you sweet
Enough trials to keep you strong
Enough sorrow to keep you human
Enough hope to keep you happy
Enough failure to keep you humble
Enough success to keep you eager
Enough friends to give you comfort
Enough wealth to meet your needs
Enough enthusiasm to look forward
Enough faith to banish depression
Enough determination to make each day
better than yesterday.

And yes,
Enough love to pass around.

Poem: May You Always Have
Author: Unknown

Working on Love

2005-10-21T15:47:00.000+08:00

our whole body, from wingtip to wingtip,
is nothing more than your thought itself,
in a form you can see.
Break the chains of your thought,
and you break the chains of your body too.
-Jonathan Livingston Seagull (click here to read it online)

Came across a post in Gabriels Trumpet that made me remember Richard Bach's books and those lines I have etched to memory for decades (close to 3 decades actually and i can recite them as perfectly as i first read them! =). Come to think of it, those long forgotten lines point me to my road to healing too (as much as the rest of the lines lovingly shared to me by other modblog friends).

Remembering them and seeing them posted tells me that Im my worst enemy. that even when I think I cant, I could. That even when I believe I cannot anymore live through so much regret and "own" all the choices Ive made so willingly (tough choices according to Bitzky - tough choices - nice way of looking at it), I can.

In retrospect, Ive become my own worst enemy on my road to healing... and damn, that doesnt sound good. Why? Because from this vantage point I dont think this lifetime would be enough...

I remember a few paragraphs in Conversations with God (Book1) by Donald Neale Walsch (he greatly influenced my faith - this is a MUST read). In his book he wrote that we are not put to this world to "learn lessons" but to "remember" who we are (the goodness and grace inherently in each of us). Lately, Ive been having a tough time remembering... but Im getting there...

Slowly perhaps but still getting there...

To fly as fast as thought,
to anywhere that is,
you must begin by knowing
that you have already arrived ...
- Chiang (Jonathan Livingston Seagull)

As stated in the J.L.Seagull book (and as @deepblue would say...) "Keep working on love."

I am.

PS: Thanks to Gabriels Trumpet and Bitzky for helping me "remember"...

Loving you back!

2005-10-20T22:35:00.000+08:00

Those who have been with me for the past month or so would notice that my posts have not been "dark" of late (yup, i miss ranting much). The reason behind it is this - my "support system"...(as jenoir have said "Ive learned...lean on friends") my beautiful circle of loving friends aren't giving me the time to mope! Every so often, one of them would be sending an inspiring story, a poem, a picture... anything at all to get my mind off my "ranting" and prevent me from starting my long litany of regrets. Ever so rarely I get to receive THIS kind of an email that would bring me to tears laughing out loud, literally clutching my tummy cuz it was hurting so bad from too much gas =(

Laurie is right. I should laugh now and then. So goes Lisa and Underthebottomrung. And Blue! I think Blue had already stated (almost on daily basis and) in more ways than one that I should love myself more (self-flagellation is STILL my favorite pastime =(. However, I believe laughing now and then is loving yourself too... with "sound" (the one that goes "hi-hi-hi" or "he-he-he" or whatever sound you make is fine by me - i do weeee-he-he-he-he myself! =)

Here's loving you folks BACK! Hope you have a good laugh like I did.
(Its a "nice" joke. The "naughty" stuff is in your head.)

The Gift
A young man wanted to purchase a gift for his new sweetheart's birthday, and as they had not been dating very long, after careful consideration, he decided a pair of gloves would strike the right note: romantic, but not too personal. Accompanied by his sweetheart's younger sister, he went to Nordstrom and bought a pair of white gloves. The sister purchased a pair of panties for herself. During the wrapping, the clerk mixed up the items and the sister got the gloves and the sweetheart got the panties. Without checking the contents, the young man sealed the package and sent it to his sweetheart with the following note:

"I chose these because I noticed you are not in the habit of wearing any when we go out in the evening. If it had not been for your sister, I would have chosen the long ones with the buttons, but she wears short ones that are easier to remove. These are a delicate shade, but the lady I bought them from showed me the pair she had been wearing for the past three weeks and they were hardly soiled. I had her try yours on for me and she looked really smart. I wish I was there to put them on for you the first time, as no doubt other hands will come in contact with them before I have a chance to see you again. When you take them off, remember to blow in them before putting them away as they will naturally be a little damp from wearing. Just think how many times I will kiss them during the coming year. I hope you will wear them for me on Friday night. All my love."

PS: The latest style is to wear them folded down with a little fur showing.

It's the Me-Me Tag! Im IT!

2005-10-20T09:58:00.000+08:00

I've been tagged by my constellation guru @deepblue

Make the first and most obvious observation for each of the 10 categories listed.

1. Myself: missing for decades
2. Wisdom: in self-flagellation
3. Regrets: makes up 90% of my blog
4. Family: you CAN choose your "family." it aint biological.
5. Films: animation films by tim burton
6. Faith: goes with "soul" (can't be without the other)
7. Blogging: (newfound) joy
8. Words: i found i have some for ME afterall... so i blog
9. Friends: few but priceless
10. Ideas: gets lost most of the time... too busy ranting

i tag six: underthebottomrung, lisalisabobisa, blogof2halves,
m01027, streams, lauriesasylum and jenoir

One month of ranting...

2005-10-18T23:30:00.000+08:00

24 Things to Always Remember
and One Thing to Never Forget
-Collin McCarty

Your presence is a present to the world.
You're unique and one of a kind.
Your life can be what you want it to be.
Take the days just one at a time.

Count your blessings, not your troubles.
You'll make it through whatever comes along.
Within you are so many answers.
Understand, have courage, be strong.

Don't put limits on yourself.
So many dreams are waiting to be realized.
Decisions are too important to leave to chance.
Reach for your peak, your goal, your prize.

Nothing wastes more energy than worrying.
The longer one carries a problem, the heavier it gets.
Don't take things too seriously.
Live a life of serenity, not a life of regrets.

Remember that a little love goes a long way.
Remember that a lot goes forever.
Remember that friendship is a wise investment.
Life's treasures are people together.

Realize that it's never too late.
Do ordinary things in an extraordinary way.
Have health and hope and happiness.
Take the time to wish upon a star.

And don't ever forget
For even a day how very special you are.

My blog just turned one month old.
Ive been ranting about my sorry lot for a month now (Hooray Modblog! I just turned a month old!). I've been (and still am) in my lowest low trying to name and own all my personal demons before they get the best out of me (regret remains a tough and top favorite). I hated myself, denied myself and then felt lost without her. Called her back, apologized and then embarked on a long ardous road to healing (with a lot of help from Modblog folks willing to share their stories along the way). I've been trying to survive my emotional swings (without loosing my sense of humor) and eyeing my healing patterns closely to make some sense out of it (while looking for my hidden constellations and novas). While I've got a long way to go , the good news is I've not been regressing. I might be standing still at the moment but hey, that's a lot better than sliding back. Thats, uhm, my idea of progress I guess...

I've been getting a lot of inspiring emails too from friends (like the one on the left) who think I will overcome the "middle age crisis" they suspect I must be suffering from (I truly wonder why they call it 'middle.' Does it mean that I'll suffer one again before I die?). This one email however took my mind off ranting (I was on the verge of starting one). This made me want to start a "Remember" thread similar to the "I've learned" thread. Let see then how far this goes. Feel free to add your lines. Here's mine...

Remember
that the road you travel
was the choice of your soul
seek silence, listen to your spirit
trust it will lead you home.
-rantGirl

Wish you enough

2005-10-17T18:20:00.000+08:00

Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said "I love you and I wish you enough." The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They kissed and the daughter left.

The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?" Yes, I have, I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a 'forever good-bye?'"

"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral" she said. "When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say 'I wish you enough'. May I ask what that means?"

She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone". She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wishing the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory -

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

She then began to cry and walked away.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them. Take the time to say "I wish you enough" to the people whose lives have touched yours.

I love you and wish you enough my Modblog friends. I've learned much from you (and I hope to continue doing so by reading your posts, your insights, your thoughts, your creativity and all the stories you willingly share so others can learn from them.

Those beautiful words were emailed to me by my goodfriend Charee in Bangkok, Thailand. I miss her so much. She's such a wonderful person to be around. (An optimist too just like Ulla!). Charee and I rarely see each other but try to keep in touch via email. (Though I promise to go to Bangkok as soon as my work schedule allows me to visit all the wonderful temples I missed the last time I was there!) To Charee, I wish you well. Do continue to light incense for me as I badly need your prayers. I love you and wish you enough.

More Lines...

2005-10-15T14:43:00.000+08:00

::::::::

I've learned -
that jeffrey dahmer
is as human
as the dalai lama
-@deepblue

I've learned -
even when you least expect,
it still may well come true
and even when it does come true
there's much, much more to do.

I've learned -
sometimes sharing with strangers
can be more personal, valuable and fun
and every time I share some more
I'm reminded he's the one

I've learned -
this community spins a supportive web
for everyone to peruse
and once we're there we just can't help
but live, laugh and amuse!
-operaredhead