Room for Spontaneity

Image from sxc.hu

I was just over Neil Gaiman's blog and was moved to tears by their impromptu wedding. These are what weddings should be. Life, too. Its inexplicable messiness makes it beautiful. Spur-of-the-moment decisions often are beautiful. Heck, my two kids were all unplanned and everyday, I thank God that I have naively plunged into parenthood and now reaping how joyfully nerve-wracking fulfilling it can be. Then, I realized how often I'd get caught up planning an outrageously perfect life that I forget to make room for spontaneous moments.

I planned out my life for the next years ahead and when I was to lay the groundwork for those bold plans, everything seemed to be barring my way. So, I behaved like a petulant child would: moped around, got burned out, spent the rest of December in a haze of depression, let all my projects drop one by one. Not exactly how a mature adult with responsibilities would behave. I had my own version of psychological freak-out, a watered-down "Black Swan" minus lessy wet dreams and the self-cutting. I kept expecting a doppelganger to appear any moment. I didn't even have the heart to write my to-do list in the sumptuous planner Teeyah gave me. I couldn't lift a spatula and experiment. I flipped pages of Yummy magazines and recipes were just recipes. I just let it all slide off me and I didn't care.

One night, I was on my bed with my 2-year-old when I had a moment of panic, of feeling so out of control that I just cried and cried...deep, heaving sobs. Then my daughter out of nowhere said in her cute voice in a matter-of-fact tone that I often use whenever she's in one of her scrapes, "Mommy, wag ka nang umiyak. Bibigyan kita ng toy." (Mom, don't cry. I'll give you a toy.) and she started gesturing and giving me a make-believe toy. I swear to God that my kids were brought into this world so I wouldn't spiral out of control like this. Husbands and friends, too. So little by little, with the help of my hubby who by default was in this rollercoaster ride with me, a steadfast rock to my careening self,  and the kind words of friends, I force myself out of the haze and slowly start to live again.

So for the moment, I've made a weekend date with a dear friend without any plans. No itineraries, no to-do list, just a penciled-in list of old friends to meet and a Sunday lunch with my sisters...and we'll see what happens.

Lessons from "A Spider Story"

I've been on a self-imposed hiatus a month after such a fulfilling road to self-discovery. As always, when I am getting closer to my truth, I have this inescapable feeling of running away from it. I am so afraid of facing my true self because: a) I might find that I'm not that special and so have to live with this knowledge in humiliation my entire life; b) I might be so dazzled by my own destiny that  I'll be forever hounded by the "for unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required" commandment I have been fed throughout my life.

Then, as always, my more rational self would rear up and say in a matter-of-fact voice and say that my truth is something I make. For good measure, synchronicity played its part again. My daughter asked me to read her this lusciously illustrated book by Germaine Yia called "A Spider Story." 

Basically, the spider named "Bella" was envious of her neighbor's houses, so she set out to make a unique house for herself and she's NOT going to use her ordinary silk thread. 

So little Bella who uncannily has wavy hair and glasses like I do started to build a house made of human hair, bubble gum, and this is my favorite part, spaghetti! Each one was a disaster and you know where I'm getting to, right? In the end, she saw how her silk web is the most perfect home for herself and I quote:

Image: dan / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

"Bella could not believe her eyes. Right before her was the perfect web. It may not have a penthouse view. It may not have mysterious underground tunnels. It may not even be one that she can't take everywhere. But it was hers. She built it with her eight legs and it was made out of her own silk thread. It was her web and it was perfect."

During Celes' 30 DLBL, I got in touch with my old self, the inner longings of a young person, unweighed by family commitments and brimming with dreams of travel and drinking wine in Italy. Underneath all those unleashed dreaming was an undercurrent of fear I could not shake off. I didn't listen to that voice.I marked and organized the folders that will carry all the paperwork that I need for a scholarship in Italy. I contacted all the professors and employers for recommendation letters, gotten in touch with friends in Europe, the works, but always, there's a hidden voice inside my head that's screaming, "What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?"

At first I thought that it was just fear of the unknown. Stubbornly, I forged on. I actually have to convince myself into thinking that my children will be safe with their father, their grandparents. They will be filled with love. I rationalized that I'm doing this for them! They will have everything they wanted. I needed this. I needed time to be with myself, to see my full potential. By god! I am going to Europe to find my true self a la Elizabeth Gilbert. The universe will once again conspire to give me the best life I have never imagined.

What did the universe give me?

Obstacle after obstacle after obstacle. It was exasperating, really. I bled pesos. I had to battle with a grumpy old postal clerk for International Postal Money Orders which I still don't have until now. I wasn't cleared from the university because I was overassessed by mere P100. When I went to a government office to secure a license, there was no electricity. We went to another town and there was no electricity. I'm sure you might say these are all petty compared to obstacles by great people. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have gritted my teeth and forged on. This time, I was second-guessing myself. Are these obstacles mere messages to urge me to strive harder or are they reminders sent to me by the universe, telling me to halt and re-assess my goals.

I felt it was the latter.

Was I like Bella, trying to build a house on spaghetti noodles, when I am capable of producing strong silk threads? So I take a step back and find myself on square one. Yet again. 

My Bucket List

I couldn't believe how empowering the bucket list is. I've been reading about this since last year but haven't got around to doing it. What's great is that my husband and my 8-year-old made their own bucket lists, too. Celestine Chua asked us to do this in our Day 26 and I'm sharing them with you. It's not complete yet. I stopped at 53 56. But I'll be updating this list soon.

1. Learn Italian.
2. Kiss my husband under the Bridge of Sighs in Venice, Italy while the bells are ringing.
3. Travel abroad with my family.
4. Pop bubbles coming out of the Wishing Fish Clock, Regent Arcade Shopping Centre, Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, England. (See Photo)
5. Learn to drive a car.
6. Ride a Vespa in Italy with a silk scarf streaming behind me.
7. Participate in a NaNoWriMo.
8. Publish a chick lit novel called "Boy Magnet."
9. Publish another chick lit novel called "Love Under the Cherry Blossoms."
10. Bake the perfect apple pie. 
11. Visit Green Gables Heritage Place in Canada.
12. Bake cinnamon buns to rival Cinnabon.
13. Zipline in Cagayan de Oro or Subic.
14. Work in the women sector.
15. Drink tequila with my daughters on their 18th birthday.
16. Have a heart-to-heart talk with my daughters' soon-to-be husbands.
17. Same as above for my second daughter.
18. Help plan my daughters' weddings.
19. Hold a tarsier on my hand.
20. Hold a baby panda.
21. Hold a tiger cub.
22. Ride a boat through Puerto Princesa's Underground River.
23. Experience lush hair with hair extensions.
24. Perfect my English verb tenses.
25. Be a friend's maid of honor.
26. Fly first class.
27. Fly business class.
28. Watch Phantom of the Opera with clear vision. (I watched it already but without my contact lenses. Bad idea.)
29. Watch Wicked in NYC.
30. Drink wine in Tuscany.
31. Live in Tuscany.
32. Meet an online friend in person.
33. Ask for forgiveness.
34. Ask for forgiveness.
35. Complete GEMMA.
36. Complete a Ph.D.
37. Work for an international organization.
38. Meet Neil Gaiman.
39. Take my kids to the American Museum of Natural History in New York.
40. Start a counseling center/spa.
41. Interview Uncle about his life.
42. Write about Uncle's life.
43. Become the Pioneer Woman of the Philippines.
44. Spend a whole day in a spa.
45. Complete reading The Sandman again.
46. Meet Celes in Singapore.
47. Meet Eleanor once again and thank her.
48. Accompany my second kid on her first day of school.
49. Complete our emergency fund and never touch it.
50. Read Dante's La Divina Comedia in Italian and understand it.
51. Eat gelato in Italy.
52. Stroll along the Louvre.
53. See the Mona Lisa with Pammy.
54. Live each day with joy and gratefulness.
55. Watch Mei sing and cheer for her.
56. Take my daughters to see a volcano.
57. Bring my daughter back to a beach in Cebu and help her build a sand castle.


And because my list is boring, here are my daughter's and husband's list. (When I told my daughter I published her list, she was annoyed with me because her list "isn't finished yet" and she gave me an assignment to finish my list. Isn't she adorable?)

My Daughter's Bucket List:
1. Read a book.
2. Bake cookies.
3. Read another book.
4. Write 4 stories.
5. Publish the 4 stories in a book called My Storybook
6. Read more books.
7. Cook on my own.
8. Go to a volcano.
9. Go back to the beach where I made a sand castle and make another one.
10. Go to the clouds and eat a cloud.
11. Teach Nyv how to read a book.
12. Eat my imaginary cookie.
13. Grow my mongo seeds to bear more seeds.
14. Write a letter to nobody.
15. Tell a joke so funny that the furniture would laugh at.
16. Have a kitten.
17. Make an anagram for my name.
18. Drink my imaginary milk.
19. Have a treasure chest locked with letter combination ******.
20. Travel to a famous foreign place and take a picture of me riding a local vehicle there.
21. Know the Spanish language.
22. Have my “Sims” fulfill their lifetime wish.
23. Write a bestselling book and cover it with gold foil.
24. Type nonsense like JDUEFJDNJLJEOCBDHBVDBHKEYRJCVCH.
25. Cry like a baby.

Hubby's Bucket List:

1. ***
2. Drive a Porsche 911 Turbo
3. Travel the whole Philippines with family
4. Skydiving
5. Go to the moon
6. Slap Bill Gates
7. Stop my baby’s plans for my daughters’ weddings. (Lol-Miss Guimba)
8. Kiss Megan Fox.
9. Buy a BMW 1000R
10. Teach Nia how to brush her teeth properly.
11. Grow a mustache and a beard.
12. Implant my brain inside a computer and upload it to the Internet.
13. Fly a plane.
14. Watch Top Gear Live.
15. Build my own garage.
16. Watch my babies grow up.
17. Look like Brad Pitt.
18. Explore the ocean.

I Have Settled but the Universe Won't Let Me...

It seems that at the ripe old age of 31, I have settled... I couldn't believe it... I used to pattern my life according to "Anne of Green Gables," all bursting with optimism and joy. What happened? Life happened. Realities encroached on my imagination. The mundane have taken over my life.

What happened?

I lived my life like a zombie, that's what and it took Celestine Chua's 30 DLBL to shake me off my stupor. Life has been an uphill battle since I've started this challenge. Fear has often held me back. My lack of faith. My distrust with the people's ability to be able to help me realize my dreams. Reflecting about my life, I've realized that the synchronicity that Celes was talking about, I have lived it, continuously in my life. It's just a matter of recognizing these events.

It's funny how even when I have failed to dream, the universe has not allowed me to settle. Just when I was floating along, letting life happen, the universe has given me what I needed at the exact time when I needed it. He or she has given me beautiful people who have served as my mentors, my guides to help me at that exact moment. I thank Celes and Kate for being with me at this time. I have had these spiritual guides, if you will call them that, in my life and I'd like to thank them with this poem I made way back in 1997 when I was still writing, when I was still confident with my writing.

To Kate and Celes

I was a rosebud

all shut up in a 

green sheath,

afraid of the world

and what it may bring.

My cramped world 

was just right for me.

I was uncomfortable

but I felt I was safe

from the strange clamor 

of the world outside.

Then your hand came

with strong gentleness,

opening my self

one petal at a time

carefully... 

lovingly...

I fought against it

hard...

reluctant...

It hurt to pry my own

world open.

Then I saw the light

radiating from your face.

I felt vulnerable and afraid

but your smile reflected the sun

and banished all my fears.

I basked in the sunshine.

warmed by her constant rays

bringing freedom and love.

And I see you,

who patiently opened

a frightened bud

and I see myself

so beautiful

because of you

and the sun. 

The Beauty of Possibilities

This is Day 9-11 of my  30-Day Live a Better Life Challenge.

So as always, I've tried to take up more than I can chew. Celestine's 30 DLBL proved to be more work than I imagined and I am faced with making a decision either go for my own 30-day challenge or go for the 30 DLBL. I can't do both apparently with full-time work and mothering. Since I feel like my own life's direction is better than being able to churn out 30 beautiful blog posts for September, I chose the 30 DLBL. I could always do the 30-Day Blog Challenge any month, but this is more important. I am also meeting a lot of people who are passionate about their personal growth and I can't miss out on the wonderful support from the community.

The photo on top is what I've been doing for two days. It's part of the 30 DLBL, creating a vision board for my life. In envisioning my ideal life, I encountered some resistance which I talked to you about here, but once I've gotten past that, what was revealed is nothing short of amazing.

Through this exercise, I have revealed what I really wanted to do with my life, that is, helping women to live their best lives. I want to be able to reach out to other women, mothers especially, and let them discover their own beauty and to have the courage to live their dreams. I'm dreaming of a spa that nurtures the body, mind, and spirit. I want a haven where mothers can temporarily get away from their family responsibilities, without feeling guilt, and indulging their own selves so that they can go back to their families renewed. 

I want them to enter this haven and feel extreme beauty that they're going to weep with joy. They will be pampered with caring massages that will slough away their cares and be ready for counseling. They will be enveloped with acceptance, so they can make sense of their lives and figure out how to live their dreams. They will be made beautiful inside and out.  It's sort of Celestine Chua's dream school, but for women, with spa services to boot. I want this to be open to all women, whether they are rich or poor. 

You might say, "You're dreaming, kid," but that's right, I am dreaming and loving it. No logical side of me getting in the way. Well, it is getting in the way, but I'm working to silence it and unleash my imagination instead. 

I dream about being surrounded my lovely family and friends... I dream of growing old with my husband with a love that's endless and pure like a diamond coming out from the fires of everyday living...I dream of my daughters, grown and beautiful in their own right, fulfilling their own dreams. I dream of true friends who are as passionate as I am with living and growing and helping other people. I dream of writing inspirational stories so women could relate and be inspired to live their own beautiful lives. I dream of being able to discover Tuscany and enjoying good food. I dream of that lovely kitchen on the left where I can bake to my heart's content and nourish my husband, my kids, and grandkids. I dream of time to myself to write and to read on my Kindle and to reconnect with my soul. I dream about a well-lived life full of truth and beauty, a life lived with courage. 

How about you? How do you see your beautiful life? Are you living it? Do you have the courage to live it? Because it could be yours, if you want it enough.

P.S. I have been singing Enya's Book of Days since discovering my life's purpose. I'd like to share it with you. along with these beautiful pictures of nature.

One day, one night, one moment,

my dreams could be, tomorrow.

One step, one fall, one falter,

east or west, over earth or by ocean.

One way to be my journey,

this way could be my Book of Days.

Ó lá go lá, mo thuras,

an bealach fada romham.

Ó oíche go hoíche, mo thuras,

na scéalta nach mbeidh a choích.

No day, no night, no moment,

can hold me back from trying.

One flag, One fall, One falter,

I'll find my day may be, Far and Away.

Far and Away.

One day, one night, one moment,

with a dream to believe in.

One step, one fall, one falter,

find a new earth across a wide ocean.

This way became my journey,

this day ends together, Far and Away.

This day ends together, Far and Away.

Far and Away.

Kindred Spirits and the Graceful Exit

Image from http://www.sxc.hu

This is Day 8 of my 30-Day Blogging Challenge which coincides with my joining Celestine Chua's 30-Day Live a Better Life Challenge.

A whirlwind brought us together. 

We were in the second grade and a small whirlwind formed in the middle of the school grounds. While most of our braver classmates rushed outside with unconstrained glee to watch this natural phenomenon, we both cowered under our desks, convinced that it was the end of the world. We were inseparable since.

With her, our ordinary school grounds were transformed into a magical place. The falling leaves of the acacia trees were elusive wish leaves, rewarding the person who catches one of them with a single wish. The narrow passage between the stone grotto of the Virgin Mary and school walls were the intestines of a giant who swallowed us whole, its protruding stones the cilia (we were fascinated with science) that moved us across the intestinal tract. A mere hole in a tree was the doorway to the land of the fairies. We would stand watch every recess time and after school for a glimpse of these shy creatures.

We read books aloud together, taking turns on the even or odd pages, a ballpoint pen serving as a pointer so we wouldn't get ahead of each other. Because her parents would frequently go to Manila, she was the source of my books aside from the library. We avidly read "From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler" or "Jennifer, Hecate, MacBeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth." We were fans of E.L. Konigsburg and Enid Blyton. We plotted on how to steal "The Princess Bride" from the library, but we never got around to actually doing it. 

Saturdays would be spent either at her house or mine, regardless that we lived about 20 kilometers apart. We would spend endless afternoons playing in the lush grounds of their neighbor who was a doctor. We buried time capsules and pretended we were characters in "The Legend of Zelda." At our house, we would play dress up; my mother had an endless supply of gowns from my relatives in Canada. We would borrow my mother's heels and strut around the house, pretending we were princesses. We mastered the fine art of dining that way, consulting a 1970s tome of fashion, beauty, and manners that I inherited from my beauty queen aunt. 

She left for two years with her family to New Zealand and Brunei, and how we missed each other. We wrote letters and although we both had friends, the moment she came back, we were together again. During high school, we would write letters, Anne of Green Gables-style, to each other and mail it. We knew that other people would think that was silly, but we were never too old for our imaginations. Our relationship was like Anne and Diana, but we could never decide who would be Anne or Diana. We both wanted to be Anne, since Diana married early and didn't go to college.

Of course there were fights, our petty jealousies, our usual teenage drama. Looking back, I believe we both envied each other, but there was no doubt about our loyalty with each other. 

One of the best memories I had with her was talking in the dark in their house. Her room was in an attic with a window and we watched in awe as the moon rose slowly in the velvet sky. 

We got into the same university during college but with different courses. She lived in a campus dormitory and I lived with my relatives. It became more difficult to keep in touch, but we would spend endless hours over the phone or have Saturday dates at Pizza Hut. She had her set of friends; I had mine and we slowly drifted apart. In elementary school, we both pledged to be bosom friends forever "as soon as the sun and moon shall endure," but we didn't realize that we'll be living in different worlds. 

Yet, I still treasured our friendship. She was my maid of honor and my eldest daughter's godmother.We would see each other once a year and I always considered her my best friend. Then, I heard that she got married. I wasn't invited. It was an intimate family affair, I heard, but the hurt was palpable nevertheless. With that gesture, she unknowingly said that the friendship is over. I would cry remembering her; my husband would comfort me and tell me that I had to let her go and would joke that I act like a jilted lover.

Today, I still cry for my best friend and mourn the loss of a great friendship, but I am ready to let go now. I still have to master the art of the graceful exit. I am inspired by what Ellen Goodman wrote in her swan song for The Washington Post, "There's a trick to the Graceful Exit. It begins with the vision to recognize when a job, a life stage, a relationship is over -- and to let go. It means leaving what's over without denying its validity or its past importance in our lives...[emphasis mine] It involves a sense of future, a belief that every exit line is an entry, that we are moving on rather than out." So I tread lightly, but move forward and open myself up to new friendships.


How about you? Do you have a childhood best friend? If you're still together today, then you're truly blessed. Please take the time to tell her/him how you treasure your friendship. 

The Point of Emotional Resonance

Image from www.sxc.hu

This is Day 7 of my 30-Day Blogging Challenge which coincides with my joining Celestine Chua's 30-Day Live a Better Life Challenge.

I am actually ashamed to admit that I was doing this personal development thing. I would be embarrassed and close the window whenever my husband gets near enough to read what's on my monitor. I'd breezily explain to my husband that it's something to while away my time, although I know that I don't have extra time on my hands as I'm battling deadlines left and right. I know he doesn't believe me, but it's hard to admit that you feel inadequate, that you have a problem.

I've always cultivated this image of being perfect. Every time I text parents, I usually deliver good news. I am earning lots of money despite having an unconventional job. I have wonderful kids and a wonderful husband. My clients love me. I usually gloss over bouts of procrastination, mistakes, and lost clients because I pride myself on being perfect.

But I'm not perfect. I don't think I will ever be, but I want to be my best self which explains my obsession with personal development, minimalism, and what-have-you. 

I entered this challenge with a healthy dose of skepticism. How can you improve your life in just 30 days? It creeped me out that 1,099 people could be doing the same thing I'm doing. There was even a time when I thought that Celes was crazy, thinking that you can do this in an hour or so everyday. I found myself struggling with the tasks, especially since I also signed up for a big project that turned out to have a short timetable. Add the mundane tasks of mothering to the mix and I'm one big mess. I wanted to escape to my own Walden Woods (I'm thinking Puerto Princesa) and to "live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

Alas, I don't have that luxury. I had to make do with the time I had and although my tasks are as haphazard as a sloppily put together children's project, I am amazed at what it can do to your life. Yesterday, as per Celes' advice of pressing on against resistance, I tried discovering my purpose. I even did the brain dumping exercise, thinking "This is so silly... This is so silly..." Then I started listing my purpose... Celes said that you will come to a point of emotional resonance. I personally thought, "Emotional resonance, my a**!" But did the exercise anyway.

Somewhere between my 25th answer, I began crying... and then Enya's Caribbean Blue started playing (I had  Enya, my absolutest favoritest artist ever in the background.) and I couldn't stop crying... I've discovered my life's purpose. Corny much? I haven't had this spiritual experience since I left organized religion behind.

To live my life in truth and beauty and to live it courageously so other people can be inspired to do the same.

To create a world that allows people to be their true and best selves.

How many times have I aligned my life according to other people. First, I aligned it according to what my parents expect of me, then my church and my friends, then my husband and family. Life is never about me, but according to other's expectations.  I remember when we were asked to do a psychology paper about our identities and all I came up with are roles, a daughter, a friend, a girlfriend, a student. No wonder I love those travels abroad. It seems like I was presented a blank slate to start over again. I was just me and it felt wonderful. It's easy to be yourself in another territory; you don't know anyone. No one has a preconception of who you are. The challenge now is whether I can do it here in my present world without having to escape.

Caribbean Blue

...Eurus... 

...Afer Ventus... 

...so the world goes round and round 

With all you ever knew -- 

They say the sky high above 

Is Caribbean blue...  

...if every man says all he can, 

If every man is true, 

Do I believe the sky above 

Is Caribbean blue...  

...Boreas... 

...Zephryus...  

...if all you told was turned to gold 

If all you dreamed was new, 

Imagine sky high above 

In Caribbean blue...  

...Eurus... 

...Afer Ventus... 

...Boreas 

Zephryus... 

...Africus...