Lazy Sunday Blog

It's raining strong and hard on this lazy Sunday. I am lazy during Sundays. It's a time to pamper myself with indolence because tomorrow will be another week of deadlines, meetings and travels. I always love lazing around and I really love the rain. What a great treat to have both today.

As I looked outside my window, I asked myself why I always love the rain. Maybe because I always associate my happy childhood with the rain. Oh how I love to bathe and play in the rain with my friends. When I grew older, the rain was the best reason to stay at home and be lost in a good book or be transported to another world in a good movie or be in touched with myself as I update my journal.

As I looked outside my window, I asked myself where is this blog leading? What do I really want to write? Do I have the time or talent to keep this going? Will this be just a venue for me to vent my unexpressed emotions or a venue to share hope and happiness?

Last night I browsed through my personal journal. I can hardly believe that I was the one who wrote it. I cannot believe why I can write with sense yet just managed to produce "a second rate, trying hard, copy cat" blog. Maybe because I pour my heart out in my journal while I sift my words in my blog.

The rain has made me rethink about blogging. Maybe when it stops, I will know the answer. Meantime, I will have to indulge in a hearty meal at my favorite Thai restaurant.

Sandal Scandal

I just want to share this experience I had several years ago, when i first visited Singapore. I actually delivered this as one of my speech projects in Toastmasters International some years back.

I was going to Singapore for a very short vacation!

Visiting this country for the first time really excited me. I couldn't wait to see the famous places that Singapore is known for. I really took time in preparing the clothes and footwear I would be needing in anticipation of the hectic itinerary of tours and shopping. I even had a checklist to make sure I won’t miss a detail. I was so prepared!

On the day of departure, everything went smoothly. I got to the airport early. Check-in counter was not busy and I breezed through immigration. Perfect. Then I waited for my flight at the lounge.

When the boarding call came, I immediately stood up but a strange sound came from my right sandals. I looked down and saw the sole of my sandal widely smiling at me! I pretended that nothing happened. Concealed behind my calm composure was my turbulent mind searching for solutions: mighty bond, epoxy, masking tape, bubble gum, band aid ... anything to keep my sandal intact. But where? I asked from several people: customer service clerk, janitor, utility man, store clerk, security personnel and even some passengers. No luck!

The final call for boarding made my heart beat faster. I thought of just following a TV commercial - simply peel off the soles and walk away in style. When I examined the other sandal, the sole would not budge a bit. I had to choose: peel the sole and walk with a two-inch limp or take a chance on my smiling sole and pray that what the shoe man put together let no step put asunder. Reluctantly, I boarded the plane in my most unusual gait – half dragging my beleaguered sandal, half walking with flair trying to pretend that there was no problem.

The sole of my sandal dutifully hanged-on in each of the 167 steps I needed to get to my seat. The plane took off. Food and drinks were then served but I had no appetite. I watched a movie but I could not focus on the story. I listened to the music but the melody gave me a disturbing sense of false security and peace. I checked the Newspaper but the creepy headlines were too much to add to my creeping state of panic. I flipped through the Lifestyle Section and I almost flipped when I saw different kinds of sandals being featured. Sandals, sandals everywhere but not one pair to wear! I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Hours later, I was already walking in the terminal when someone tapped my shoulder. “Excuse me miss, you left the sole of your sandal behind.” In horror, I still managed to answer proudly, "I beg your pardon, that is not mine!" Then I walked away as fast as I could but a security personnel chased me and said “You will be fined 500 dollars for littering in this country.” At that instant I felt a light tap on my shoulderand a melodious voice saying “Excuse me, ma’am, please straighten up your seat. We shall be landing shortly.” I was very glad I was roused from that bad dream before I could pay the fine!

When the plane touched down, I knew my ordeal has resumed. As I stood and started to deplane, I was consumed with fear and anxiety of that bad dream turning into a reality. As I emerged from the tube, I was greeted by a mile long corridor leading to, I'm sure, another long stretched labyrinth of more passages. But seeing the mobile walkways, I almost shouted Halleluiah! At that moment, I really thanked God for the lazy people who inspired the wonderful invention of mobile walkways. Standing poised as I rode to the exit, I suddenly remembered I had spare sandals in my checked-in luggage.

After the brief immigration check, I rushed to claim my luggage. I never realized that the happiest reunion in my entire life would be with a pair of sandals!

The vacation went well as I expected. I had a great time. I experienced so many memorable moments in Singapore but my sandal scandal was the most unforgettable of all. Both my smiling sandal and I survived it all.

The sandals in the picture were not the ones I wore during the trip

A Page for Francis Casey "Niño" Alcantara

It was one of those long wait at the airport due to a delayed flight that I happen to meet this lady who made me cry because of her touching story.

Her name is Sandra, a young widow and mother of three boys all playing tennis. She was going to watch her eldest son play in a tournament that will start 2 hours before our delayed flight will arrive.

She had so many touching stories: How her husband died, how they coped with the sudden death and how she raised her sons alone and continued their passion for tennis. But the most moving story she told was about her eldest son.

His name is Francis Casey or Niño, as he is fondly called. He is 17 years old. He started playing tennis at the age of five. When he was about six, he went to play in a junior tournament for children his age. It was a real good fight but he lost. It was a bitter defeat too hard to take for a boy in his tender years. He hid under a table and cried for two hours, inconsolable. When finally he was done crying, he came out from under the table and firmly said to his father: "Let's go, Dad. I need to practice now. I promise, he will never defeat me again."

That was his turning point and true to his words, he kept on winning against his opponents, including that boy who beat him, and he became the number 1 tennis player in Asia and number 20 in the world for the Junior Division. He won a grand slam in Tennis Doubles and still counting. I will not be surprised if he becomes a world champion in the future.

I never met him nor read about him, until now, because I hardly read about tennis. But his story of how he rose to become a champion through perseverance is truly inspiring.

The picture I posted was just downloaded from the blog of Herfifani at wordpress through google with the website:

http://givemeanamepls.wordpress.com/2009/01/

Unedited Thoughts

I am so relieved that finally it's Saturday.

The previous weeks were so hectic and I don't even have the right to feel sick. There were days that I have to drag myself out of bed even when my body was screaming for more sleep. There were days that I feel sick and tired of packing and unpacking, taking very early morning or late evening flights. Due to my different destinations every week, I even reached the point that I have to look at my boarding pass to check which flight I am taking, every time the announcement for boarding was called. My flights are short but the waiting time and preparation are still the same. The packing of clothes, trips to the airport, check-in counter rituals of falling in line, removing shoes, passing the x-ray, going to the lounge, waiting and praying that the flight is on time.

In times when I am in my office, the experience is neither relaxing. Meetings, instant deliverables, urgent requirement, spur-of-the moment business reviews with the GM and more demanding meetings until the evening...not pleasant.

I am starting to feel like a zombie. I am feeling like a slave.

I have to stop myself and re-examine my thoughts. Why am I so negative now? Why all these ramblings and complains? Do I love my job? Am I still made for this? Is this career still made for me? Is this the only career that I can have?

Looking at the people on the streets or the images flashed on the news about recession, jobless executives giving up their usual lifestyles, poor families not knowing where to get their next meal, war-stricken countries where peace has to be paid with lives...they are enough to wake me up and bring me back to my senses. Looking back at my ordeal last year when I was emotionally battered by the people reporting to me, I can say that physical exhaustion is better because all I need to do is rest.

In our recently concluded Sales and Marketing Conference, the fruits of my labor were highlighted. From my team came the best and the most number of achievers and we had the best sales performance in the company. It was more than enough to erase my fatigue away.

The other day, despite the natural high I felt from my team's accomplishments, I wasn't feeling well. I really had to listen to my body this time. I slept whole day and night. When I woke up, I was a new person. I reported back to the office feeling great. Maybe because I was able to regain some of my lost sleep or maybe because I realized I am very blessed or maybe because it's a Friday. I don't know. All I know is that I have very simple joys. It's Saturday again and I will have my most needed rest.

Nostalgia

I was thirteen years old when my father passed away.

I can still remember the last time I saw him alive. I was going back to my school where I was boarding and I was looking at his receding image as my ride carried me away. He was standing at the side of the road waving goodbye, smiling, but his eyes could not betray his pain inside. It was one of the most touching moments of my life that left a deep scar of loneliness in my heart.

That was 35 years ago but I still miss him, especially this Father's Day. I miss his colorful stories, his warm laughter and his reassuring embrace.

I just want to be quiet today. Somehow, I am hoping that Papa will speak to me today though the wind or the rain or through my heartbeat.

Pandemic

The World Health Organization proclaimed it yesterday. The AH1N1 Flu is already a Pandemic. As a constant traveler, I worry about catching the new flu strain. Although we know that it is not the as deadly as SARS, it is still scary. But worrying will not help. The best way is to keep ourselves healthy and fit. We should all be thankful that this is not the same as the plagues that hit the world in the past centuries where millions died helpless.

Speaking of plagues, I found it fit to post these pictures I took in one of my trips, which is an interesting depiction of the triumph of the people in Munich during the great plague and cholera epidemic that hit them in the 16th Century.

This is the Neues Rathaus (New Town Hall) at Marienplatz (St. Mary's Square). This one of the most famous attractions in Munich. The square was originally known as Schrannen but it was renamed Marienplatz as a way to ask Virgin Mary to protect the town from epidemic.

This second picture is the Mariensaule or Column of St. Mary which is found at the center of Marienplatz. This was erected in 1638 to symbolize their triumph over war, pestilence, hunger and heresy.

This picture was a stark depiction of the plague as a Dragon slaying the people. In the 16th century everyone went into hiding for fear of being infected by the plague.

This particular picture is from Wikipedia.com because my picture is not as clear as this. This is the Carillon or Glockenspiel where visitors can watch the famous Schäfflerstanz or the Fish Fountain Cooper's Dance, (the lower portion) which was originally performed in 1517 at the Marienplatz first done by barrel makers at the end of the Black Death plague. The first people to dare go back onto the streets were barrel makers who performed a big dance to show that it was okay to come out again.

History tells us that no matter how great these adversities that hit the world, humankind can always survive, bounce back and triumph over it.

I received this message from a friend today and I want to share it here:

Things in this world are temporary.

If events are turning well, enjoy!

If they go wrong, don't worry, it won't last long.

Larger faith means lesser fear;

Greater trust means smaller doubts;

Stronger beliefs means weaker worries.

Keep the faith burning.

Enjoy life at its best.

Cheer Up!

I'm back after almost two months of absence from this blog. I missed reading my favorite bloggers' posts and leaving comments on their blogs. Aside from that, I realized, I missed myself too. I had been away from me for quite sometime.

Work has been more demanding due to the challenging business environment. Travel has been more tiring, especially on early flights where I have to drag myself out of bed even before my mind was ready to face the world. I had my quiet moments and light weekends but I just felt I need a break from my laptop.

After the long absence, I feel rusty. I don't know what to write. So much has happened around me yet I'm struggling on what to post. I can easily pick an engaging conversation even with strangers. I never run out of topics to discuss with friends. But today, I stared for quite sometime at the blank screen with a blinking cursor before I finally decided what write.

I chose to post this picture I took from one of my morning flights. My point-and-shoot camera didn't do justice to the awesome scene but this is more than enough to remind me of my feeling when I saw it. Rainbows bring different meanings to different people. For me, it was God's answer to my prayer that morning. He was telling me: "Cheer up!"

It's really good to be back!

Easter Tears

The silence of my condo is always constant and I got used to it after staying here for 19 months. But after sharing it with my son for nine days, the silence is never the same again. I am consumed with loneliness beyond explanation.

It might seem funny to know that the reason why I am crying now is because my son just went back to our home after spending 9 days with me in the city.

Just 9 days ago, I could not contain my happiness and excitement while I was waiting at the airport to meet him. I was looking forward to nine days off work and spending time with my beloved son. Of course, that is not the same as bonding with a toddler, because my son is already a young man. But if you are a mother like me, you will understand that a son or a daughter will always be your baby, even if they grow old. You will know that times spent with your child is always a great time.

The nine days was such a happy experience, not because of the food we ate at fancy restaurants, nor the things we shopped and splurged on. It was a joyful experience because I was with the person I love most in my life.

Now, the nine days are over. Back to reality.

It's Easter Sunday but I feel like Good Friday when I drove him to the airport.

It’s silly to be feeling like this. I am a 48 year old mom, used to living alone and being away from my family most of the time. Now, I am wallowing in tears and downing mouthfuls of dark chocolate while pouring out my feelings in this blog, in the hope of easing the pain in my heart. The chocolate tastes like tears or maybe my tears taste like chocolate. I don't know. I am not enjoying this.

I am never good at good byes even if they are temporary. I am always lousy in dealing with separation. I am beyond logic when it comes to being away from my son. Maybe all mothers are like me. Maybe I am weird. I don't know. I am not proud of this.

Tomorrow, I will be back to my daily grind of office work and travels thereafter. Soon I will be busy with so many concerns. But I am sure, that at the end of the day, or at the end of each travel, when I come home to my condo…the silence will never be the same again.

Of Work and Travel

I must admit that my work has taken its toll on my blog. It's not that I ran out of thoughts to post. It's because I am too tired to process everything. This pressure-packed, fast-paced career serves stress for breakfast, deadlines for lunch, "more things to do" for dinner and anxiety for dessert. Of course, this is an exaggerated description of my corporate life. I am just making an outrageous excuse for not posting regularly.

My blog is my refuge: it gives me back my sanity. I need to keep updating it.

My work is my way of life. Travel is very much a part of it and I love it.

In my weekly business trips to different places - by plane, by land and even by sea, I always ask myself: What have I learned? Was I able to make a difference to those I've met? What am I going to take home and share to others?

Travel is an excellent teacher. I am always a different person when I go home. Tired but not spent. Gaining pleasant experiences or otherwise, I always consider myself fortunate. So lucky to take with me the good ones; much luckier to leave behind the bad ones.

Next week, I will be in another place again. Meetings, field works, business reviews ...all in a day's work, but I would say this is no longer work but a way of living . I see it as another opportunity to touch people's lives, wake up their dormant potentials and show them the way to their dreams.

I guess I am becoming more of a leader than just a manager now. Maybe blogging has helped me discover this or maybe travel has made me this.

Passage

Life is about endless journey, from one road to another, from one bridge to the next, from a tunnel to the light.

"Go towards the light." That's what is said to someone who is about to leave the earthly world, in the hope of guiding them and assuring that the passage to the next realm is smooth and peaceful.

"A light at the end of the tunnel..." that's what most people hope when they go through the darkest abyss of human experience. Hopeful that it is not the light of an incoming train.

For me, tunnels are routes to take to go through a seemingly insurmountable mountain obstacle in life's journey. Dark, dank and daunting... but always exhilarating experience once you made it through.

Bridges

In my travels, I took these pictures and the only thing that comes to my mind is this song which happens to be one of my favorites:

BRIDGES by Dianne Reeves

I have crossed a thousand bridges in my search for something real
There were great suspension bridges made like spider webs of steel
There were tiny wooden trusses and there were bridges made of stone
I have always been a stranger and I've always been alone.

There's a bridge to tomorrow, there's a bridge from the past
There's a bridge made of sorrow that I pray will not last
There's a bridge made of color in the sky high above
And I pray that there must be bridges made out of love.

I can see him in the distance on the river's other shore
And his arms reach out in longing as my own have done before
And I call across to tell him where I believe the bridge must lie
And I'll find it, yes I'll find it if I search until I die.

When the bridge is between us we'll have nothing to say
We will run through the sunlight and he'll meet me halfway
There's a bridge made of color in the sky high above
And I know that there must be bridges made out of love.

Day of Hearts

I have no dinner date to go to, no flowers to receive, no sweet nothings to hear. But I am not sad today because I have my family and friends who made my life meaningful and beautiful.

I am thankful for my family and friends for all the moments we have shared: for listening, talking, laughing, inspiring and caring. Today is just another day of letting them know how much I appreciate them in my life.

My Private Thoughts At 36 Thousand Feet

I am tired from a whole week's work and travel. It feels great to know that it is Friday. Finally I am going home. But where is home?

I stay in two different places: one my home city, the other my home base of work. My real home is where my family is - my son and mother. That's where love is. That's where laughter sounds good. That's where peace seems constant amid the noise.


My other home, or shall I say my other residence, is where head office is. I stay in a small condo alone. That's where I talk to myself. That's where I feel so alone. That's where silence is constant.


But no matter where I am going home today, I just want to be there and enjoy my most deserved weekend.

Not Just Another Day

It’s been a long January for me. My new work set-up is more complicated than I thought. With field work required 80% of the time, I practically live inside airplanes, cars and hotels. My only wish was to go home on a weekend and sleep.

Today, after over sleeping, I woke up with tons of SMS messages in my cell phone. That’s when I remembered that it’s not another day for me. I am one year older.

I always have mixed feelings days before my birthday - happy but sad. Just the thought that another year has passed is more than a blessing to me. But just the mere thought that I am a year older is also like a penalty, which brought me splurging on another LV bag!

Looking back I can see that I did not live my life to the fullest: so many wasted days of worrying and wallowing in self pity; so many hours squandered in procrastination and laziness; so many opportunities lost for not using my talent to the fullest. I could have painted more, I could have read more, I could have laughed more.

Yet, despite the negative things I saw, blessings outweigh my frustrations. Last year I learned valuable lessons from my ordeal with difficult people. I came to know who my real friends are and I am truly glad they are many. Despite the stress and pressure, I was blessed with good health, a supportive top management and a loving family. It wasn’t that bad after all.

Looking closer at this present time, I could see that I am loved and blessed. My son gave me a graceful and lucky fish called Arowana. My cat gave me a funny pose while sleeping. My mama cooked me a very delicious noodle dish and my best friend, together with her family, dropped by this morning just to greet me personally.

Three days ago, I saw the most amazing dusk while sitting inside the car. In haste I took pictures, one inside the car behind the heavy tint, and one outside, with the roof of the car reflecting it like a river. Yesterday, while taking my flight home, the clouds were so beautiful I can’t help but take a picture. I got the message. God was reminding me that even in the most ordinary days, blessings and beauty abound. I just have to open my heart to see it. I should always count my blessings.

A New Beginning

I always love new beginnings for they offer fresh starts and anticipation of the new things to come. New Year is one of them.

I woke up feeling vibrant and recharged. I went around my garden. The air was sweet and filled with the songs of birds feasting on nature's bounty. The vibrant colors of the flowers reflected my feelings within ... gratitude, joy and abundance. What a wonderful feeling, indeed!

Low Tide

I want to write about so many things - my innermost feelings, my aspirations and my regrets ... but every time I start doing one, letters just jammed in my mind and all that I could type are bare words that do not give justice to emotions I want to spell.

I want to paint the beauty of what I see - the mountains, the sea, the sunset ... but every time I start creating one, the images just stick in my mind and all I can paint is an empty canvas that is a poor imitation of the real beauty I wish to depict.

I want to take pictures of what I see - from mundane everyday lives to profound postcard quality landscapes ... but every time I start clicking my camera, I can't seem to capture the real beauty of what my bare eyes could see.

I'm losing my creativity. There's a certain element in me that is missing and not knowing what it is makes it even worse.

I guess I just have to let this be. I believe that to live through life, I have to undergo the different seasons. To survive each day, I need to have the serene acceptance of time and tide. Sometimes, a low tide can really be as low as it gets, exposing the very core of one's life and seeing that there is nothing much in there hidden beneath the waves.

If this is low tide, then let it be.

Water Under The Bridge

It was a long year for me. Without any hint, it started like a fresh morning. Then suddenly the storm came. It lasted like ages like it's not going to end.

A day was like a decade.

A week was like a century.

A month was like forever.

I never knew what hit me. Everything was in chaos no matter how I tried to fix it. The more I struggled, the deeper I was sinking in the mud. I kept asking myself "What have I done to deserve this?" Yet, no matter how I kept repeating the question, I never got the answer.

Everyday was like a struggle. I had to drag myself to work and tried to pull the days till it would be Saturday. No amount of encouragement from friends could ease the pain inflicted by people who wanted me to fail.

It was the worst year of my life but it brought out the best in me. I came face to face with the ugly truth that some people have so much hatred and bad intentions in their heart. But on the other hand, I also saw the real gem on others for their understanding and encouragement. Through all the trials, I discovered that I had so much patience and strength than I never thought I had. It was a humbling experience but the wisdom I gained has made me larger than myself.

The year is about to end and with it came the stillness of dusk. At long last, the storm was gone. The people who caused me misery are no longer in my team. They are now like the murky water after the storm, flowing under the bridge...

My Daily Dozen

In this life and time, I have observed that materialism seems to overpower spirituality, greed is consuming love, apathy is perennial and empathy is scarce. Wherever I turn my eyes, I see this.

I asked myself, do I have to be a part of it or do I strive to make a difference? The choice is easy. I want to be a ray of light in this world.

To create a thousand lists on how I can make a difference is not difficult. How to do it all is the real challenge. So, I trimmed down my list to an achievable dozen things I can do to make my world a better place, in my own little way.

My Daily Dozen:

1. Call my mother and let her know I love her.
2. Let my son know I love him.
3. Smile to at least 1 stranger.
4. Say "Please" when I ask for something.
5. Say "Thank You" to every favor received, no matter how small it is.
6. Start and end my day with a prayer of gratitude.
7. Count my blessings.
8. Do a good deed to one person.
9. Give a heartfelt compliment to one person.
10. Send one inspiring SMS message to one friend.
11. Offer a prayer of blessings to one person.
12. Save at least a dollar for charity.

These are the small things I vow to do everyday.

My Afterthoughts of Ho Chi Minh and Angkor Wat

It was a well deserved vacation that I took together with a friend. I just wanted to forget my stressful corporate life and be lost in Ho Chi Minh and Siam Reap. Yes, I had a short vacation in Vietnam and Cambodia.

I traveled light. No cell phone. No Laptop. No reports. I just brought the bare essentials: money, clothes, camera and loads of enthusiasm.

It was my second time to visit Ho Chi Minh so I was the tour guide to my friend. My reasons for going back are the delicious food, the cheap but beautiful souvenirs and the friendly people of Vietnam.

I brought my friend to this restaurant I discovered 4 years ago named Quan Ngon which served very delicious Vietnamese food. Tourists and locals alike line up and wait to be seated for as long as 45 minutes. I knew my friend love it there because she agreed to eat there several times. We also had a short dinner cruise along Mekong River one moonlit night and attended a Catholic Mass (in English!) at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in down town Ho Chi Minh.

Losing my self in Vietnam was easy. All I did in Vietnam was eat, shop and pray.

The flight to Siam Reap from Ho Chi Minh was just an hour. With only less than 2 days to see the ruins, we hired a taxi driver to be our official guide around the city and the ruins.

Seeing Angkor Wat face to face was more overwhelming than I expected. I was consumed with unexplainable mixed feelings: Happy to be here at last; Sad that I only had a day to see it ... Amazed how such an ancient civilization built the huge temple complex; Perplexed how they just left it to crumble ... Touched by the indomitable spirit of those who built it with hard labor; Grateful how they tried to restore it for the next generations to see.

The carvings were so intricate. Every nook and cranny was adorned with exquisite design of all conceivable images – dragons, gods, serpents, flowers, trees and creatures of the netherworld.

It was hot and a bit crowded with tourists from all countries and races: English, French, Japanese, Korean, German, Italian, Spanish...I guess I heard them all. Everyone was armed with camera, ready to shoot at every opportunity there would be. Some were just there to just to be there. Some were there to really be there. Some were there and wanted to be really, really be there. I could say that I was there just to be lost in the myriad of beautiful stone works and rich history.

One of the sidelights of my visit was knowing that all weddings in Siam Reap would always end up with the pictorial at the ruins. It was so heartwarming to note that the Cambodians really value their heritage even in these modern times. I happened to take a snap shot of the entourage waiting for their cue for the pictorial.

Siam Reap is a small City in a developing country thriving amidst an extinct advanced civilization. I could say that their ancestors did not only leave them the temples of the past but also left them a gift of their future – a booming economy through tourism. They have plenty of big hotels and still counting, yet never enough, to accommodate the throngs of tourists who want to take a glimpse of this ancient and rich civilization.

Losing my self in Angkor Wat was easy. All I did was shamelessly take pictures of their gods and goddesses (like what most tourists do), hoping that I could bring everything I could without taking a single stone from the ruins.

I never imagined that losing one's self can be so enriching. It was in losing my self in the ancient temples of Cambodia and the busy restaurant in Ho Chi Minh that I found what I had been looking for: ME.

A Mother's Retrospection

It was exactly 20 years ago today when my baby came into this world with his most angelic face soothing my very soul.

As I held him for the first time in my arms, the feeling was incredible … indescribable … irresistible.

He was tiny and frail but when I hugged him close to my heart I felt so strong and invincible. He was completely dependent on me but I felt that my very existence just depended on him. As I watched him sleep, all my troubles melted away and were replaced with palpable peace I never imagined existed.

My years were spent with careless abandon but when he came into my life, I was consumed with an overprotective feeling and I need to shield him from all harms both real and imagined. Yet, as I look into his eyes, a strong sense of security melted all those fears away. An inner voice told me “everything will be okay.”

It seems just like yesterday. The images are vividly imprinted in my mind and all the wonderful feelings are eternally embedded in my heart.

Sad

Got the news like a heavy downpour on a Saturday morning. A friend sent a message too hard to read. Too painful to digest. Too much for a morning starter.

One of our friends has Stage 4 Lymphoma. The doctors will no longer operate. She has been in the ICU for a week now.

Sad.

I asked if I can announce it to our other friends but she didn't know what to say. I told her we should because they all have the right to know. We all love her, maybe not equally, but we hold her dearly in our hearts.

I called another friend. She just got the news too. She was shaken like me, so shocked we didn't know how to handle what hit us today.

We shared our regrets of not seeing our friend before she fell ill.

Life is indeed short. Regrets make it shorter. But prayers make us stronger.

A Wonderful Daybreak

The trip was short. Only a week. But the activities were packed with nerve-wracking schedule: 3 countries in 6 days...and we must see the beautiful places in between a convention we need to attend everyday.

After a grueling week of tours and night-outs and meetings, I was looking forward to a relaxing trip back. On our flight home, some technical glitch happened to my seat assignment. My original front row aisle seat was changed to a window seat and it cannot be altered. I was stuck in a window seat for a 13 hour flight! Oh my God!

It felt like that was the longest 13 hours of my life. I tried to enjoy watching the in flight movies but I was so sleepy to finish one. In between fitful naps, leg cramps and stiff neck, I was wishing I could stand up and walk along the aisle. Every time I wake up from a shallow sleep, I would look at my watch and feel so disappointed that it was still a long way before arrival time. Looking out of the window, it was pitch dark, except for the blinking plane light that was piercing the night and my eyesight, so I closed the window.

Every time a meal was served, I would open the window and check if it wasn't dark anymore only to close it again. It was still as black as ever outside. After the third serving of meals, I opened the window and saw that a crack of light was breaking off across the horizon.

It was an awesome vision to behold like finding an oasis after a day's travel in a dessert. At long last my ordeal was about to end. In a few hours we will be touching down and I can have my most deserved rest.

I took my camera and captured that moment to constantly remind me that even the longest night will always have a daybreak.

One Rainy Morning

I woke up with the dainty spatter of rainfall on my window pane. It is still early and a bit gloomy because the sun is covered by the rain clouds. I can see the rain falling gently all over the land. Green leaves looking verdant and cool breeze touching my cheeks like a gentle kiss of a baby.

It feels heavenly to snuggle by the window with a warm cup of coffee and just watch the world waltz by in slow motion. Everything is peaceful, everything is calm.

Ah, what a wonderful morning!

Mistakes

I committed a big mistake last week. I was so mindless of how the other person would feel with what I blabbered. I could not undo what I did. If wishes would come true, I will surely wish that I live the same day again, just like what happened in the movie Ground Hog Day. I wish I could undo what I did. I wish I was only dreaming.

But I am not.... This is for real. I really committed that mistake. My mouth was faster than my brain.

It is consoling to think that mistakes are lessons learned the hard way and lessons that will really be remembered. No matter how painful it would be, I am sure that I leaned from it. I will be more mindful next time.

These hard lessons I learn in life are teaching me not only to be more careful with what I say. Now I am more tolerant to people who commit mistakes. I realized that if we are unforgiving to people who have done wrong, this world will never move forward. It is only in forgiving others that get the chance to move on and apply the lessons they have learned.

I just wish that those people who were affected by my mistakes will be as forgiving as I am now.

My Poem & My Painting

Journey

In every man's journey
He must fall.

In every fall
There will be tears.

Tears to open up his eyes
To find hope.

A hope to give him strength
To rise and walk again.