10 months later and I'm still talking about the wedding. I can't help it: I never thought I would be married. I was never one of those who grew up planning their wedding day. In my own family, weddings have been far and apart, and in the last 20+ years, I have only gone to three weddings of relatives. That's a very conservative number considering my grandmother has eight living children and more than a dozen grandchildren. Most members of my family have chosen to elope or get wed without the whole shebang of a ceremony and guest list, and a handful of them are on their second or third marriages/life-partnerships.
My own parents got married when I was eight, they were too busy making a living to actually put together a party. So if I'm not mistaken, their "wedding" came in the form of Mama handing Papa the court papers in the bedroom for Papa to sign, and then Papa adopting me so I could take on his last name. They separated after about 20 years together and they're both happily partnered off to their respective new better halves. Again, no bells, no hooplah, and the two of them are still friends.
So how did I end up having this lavish(?) out-of-town shenanigan complete with gowns, bridesmaids, catering, and everything? It just happened. And, the nice thing about not having expectations is the chance to be radically surprised.
Earlier at mass, the priest talked about the emotion of hope—the kind that lets you and I say, "I hope I get that job," or "I hope I pass that class." That versus the virtue of hope, centered on the will; the kind that gets marathon runners to cross the finish line.
He told the story of the 350 people who heard mass three weeks ago on Halloween weekend, the Sunday of which was the feast of All Saints. What was striking, according to the priest, that this wasn't even an official holy day. Yet, these people heard mass in the only Catholic church... IN BAGHDAD.
Needless to say, armed men came in and killed more than 50 of them, including the three priests who celebrated the mass. More than 80 were wounded, and from Vatican came the Pope's plea to fly them via cargo plane to Rome to get these people proper medical care.
The following week, more than 600 people went back to hear mass.
Chidingly, the priest said (I paraphrase), "I don't know about you, but if I were in Baghdad, I wouldn't want to hear mass, or say mass. Clearly, the story above is a manifestation of the virtue hope."
It's this kind of hope that lets us live for something bigger than ourselves; that which gives us strength and perseverance to make it to our own finish lines.
I love how this picture "speaks" so many things.When I got laid off from my job as a copywriter last week, I didn't feel as distraught as I'd had in the past when I'd experienced the loss of a job. For one, this was an honest-to-goodness, budget-related layoff—no boo-boos, no office drama...at least that's what I'd like to believe and what I've been reassured of.
In the 12 weeks/3 months I was working for Avon, I've come up with memorable taglines, emails, and collateral copy for the trend brand that is mark. I've met beautiful and amazing people in the course of my time there—so no regrets, more or less. I only wish I'd had more moments to grow and blossom within that environment, but I believe that the time one is given in a place, is the time one has in that place, like I've said in this post.
And, unlike in the past wherein it took me months, or even more than a year to pen my thoughts, this time I'm speaking out while it's fresh. It was such a very pleasant conversation that I'd had with my boss, that I now have fond memories of the office and of mark. Plus, I still have the eBoutique I'd put up for research, so maybe now I could actually market it; or at least finally shop for items online.
The photo above was taken over the weekend at a friend's birthday party. I love it because it speaks a thousand words: the mark. outfit and lipstick; the genuine smile and excitement that comes with the anticipation of dessert; the way my stacked rings were captured in the photograph; the delicious banoffee pie a friend of mine made (a recipe that a former colleague shared), and more. And just like how newlyweds cut the cake as a symbol of their new life together—or, as I've learned from an elderly, soft-spoken painter I'd met at the party, how stomping on a wine glass in Jewish weddings signifies "getting the first disaster out of the way"—I welcome this change with the same sheer anticipation of all great things to come.
With friends Kat and Happy at the latter's birthday breakfast where I got to borrow one of these gorgeous Alexis Bittar necklaces on my last day at mark. (the two actually had no clue that it was)."I welcome God and the universe's way of letting me move forward, and I [happily and willingly] place myself in a position of excitement for life's next adventure."
Labels: faith, life musings
This was so much fun to watch! And remember the early 90's movie, Green Card, starring Andie MacDowell and Gérard Depardieu?Earlier this afternoon the paralegal from the lawyer's office called, asking for my birth certificate. I'm in the process of renewing my green card, which expires every 10 years (only the card itself expires, not the permanent resident status, FYI). It's routine paperwork, but with immigration, you never know. Fortunately, I've kept a scan of the document on my computer so I immediately dashed home to get to it and send it over.
Now, remember how I said before that I would never want to live in New York City again, and then eating my words by moving back? (No regrets, by the way) Also, haven't I been heralding more than ever the importance of staying positive? The universe has a sense of humor, I believe. It occurred to me on the way home that I do have to follow my own advice.
And, I'm not having difficulty doing so. I know that whatever time I have and am given to be here, is the perfect amount of time that I have to be here. If it's until next year, it's until next year; if it's another 10 years, then it's another 10 years. It's as simple as that. I've always let God hold the steering wheel of my life. I've kept this quote on my phone that goes, "A man plans his way, but God directs his steps." The note says it's from Proverbs. I must have picked it up from a homily at mass.
Now, funny when I was thinking about the possibility of no longer getting to live here in New York City, or Denver, or in any city in America down the line, my foremost concern was that I now really, really had to make the most out of my trips to Whole Foods, Trader Joe's, Maoz Falafel, Lobster Shack, Tokyo-san Bowl, Serafina, the taco trucks, Halal food stalls...and all the palate-pleasing opportunities this country has to offer!
Image courtesy of http://moviejunkieonline.com.
UPDATE 10/12/10: My new (renewed) green card is here! So, onto this American journey.
Labels: faith, food, life musings, New York, New York minutes
Here's a quote from Lara Parpan, editor-in-chief of Women's Health Philippines:
"Seize the moment. When I run, swim, bike, dance, or even write this blog, it’s a celebration of my body and my mind being intact and functional at this very moment. I cannot ask for more. I am already blessed. I live life fully, right here, right now."
You can read Lara's full blog at Femalenetwork.com, where she wrote a very detailed post about aneurysms ("Why I Dance Like A Madwoman," July 2, 2010), what they are, the best way to spot them, and habits to kick or adopt to help steer clear of them.
Speaking of quotes, I've come across two other meaningful ones from my most recent Long Island weekend:
"Never take no for an answer. Mr. Lewis lost three big deals, but he never lost the game."
—Millenium Membership Awardee Londell Williams at the Reginald F. Lewis Benefit Luncheon held on June 26, 2010.
"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are."
—Teddy Roosevelt, quoted by the priest during homily at Sunday mass.
Posting photos from last weekend's spectacular East Hampton (working) getaway very soon. In the meantime, Happy Fourth of July, everyone!
Photo by John Reyes.
It's been I while since I bought dressy, strappy sandals. And for this pair I have to thank my dear, dear friend Frances of Topaz Horizon, who gave me gift cheques for VNC (a.k.a. Vincci as made famous in Malaysia) when she wrote about me in her Magnificent Women blog series. I love the huge gems on the shoe; I have a weakness for big sparkly baubles.
Anyway, it already feels like Christmas morning over here. If, like me, you scatter purchased items on the bed and look at them lovingly the minute you get home (and maybe have them next to you all through the night) then you know exactly what I mean.
Laying on my back next to the shopping bags, it dawned on me that this past year has truly been a divine gift from above. About a year ago in New York City, I remember waking up and asking myself: What if I didn't have to work? What if I didn't have to pay rent? Can I ever stop working?
I simply felt tired. And now I know that God heard my exasperated plea. While I didn't know back then that I was probably calling out to the universe for a chance to live life differently, how succeeding events panned out has proven this divine understanding, love, and compassion beyond words—even when I wasn't fully aware of the big picture. While I haven't been exactly idle this past year (I think I'm wired to keep my plate full at all times), I'd experienced a languid lifestyle wherein I was able to zone in on the things I loved to do without the pressures of a rigid schedule, and perhaps most importantly, spend plenty of time with the people that I love. In the process of all of this, I also got the chance to reflect, and then redirect my life in ways I have not imagined possible. And now I can say that I am truly, forever grateful.
Photo: Mariel Chua
Ouch. The world never got over what happened between these two in real life.In the past, I noticed having the uncanny ability to sense that a couple was going to break up.
At a party among college friends, I caught a glimpse of an underlying tension when my friend P's ex, A, casually signaled to her watch that it was time to leave.
At a small get-together at my old apartment, I sensed a particular discontent and yearning for something else with my friend I and her then boyfriend, M.
At a college friend's bridesmaid's fitting, I noticed the same fidgety feeling between a long-time couple I didn't really know very well.
Subtle, yet palpable, is how I would describe each incident.
The first couple would separate for good and move on to marry other people. The second, magically, touchingly, and beautifully reunited, got married, and now have an adorable baby boy. (I eventually apologized to my friend for having voiced out the info above when they were broken up; only to be embarrassed and proven wrong when they got back together and turned out to be right for each other. See, sometimes I really should just shut up.)
As for the third couple, I have no idea if they're still together, like I said, I didn't know them very well.
The point to all of this is that, when it comes to gauging the underlying things in life, a.k.a. my personal gut and instinct, I have a 50/50 accuracy rate, which for some may be disappointing, but to me is a huge relief. I am actually happy to be wrong every now and then, and well, to be wrong half the time.
Because whenever I get neurotic about weddings, proposals (by the way, if you're on the lookout for princess diamonds, round diamonds, or any other loose diamonds, you might want to check out the choices at Samsclub.com), breakups, failed/failing marriages (so common in my family, and not to mention, issues of infidelity), I take comfort in my hit-or-miss ability to judge things for what they are. Sometimes, I'm content to chuck it all to paranoia and move along with a productive sense of positivity.
Image courtesty of Channel4.com
Labels: faith, family, life musings, pro-blogging, relationships
No pressure: Find an easy, breezy food and fitness combo that works for you.Ever since that year I’d uncannily gained 15 extra pounds (it took a year to shed them), I thought I’d completely resolved my body issues and have learned to be happy with what I weighed. Because when I did get fat, only then did I realize I was thin before after all.
Except that from time to time, I still get bothered by superficial concerns like how my belly spills over my jeans, or how my already chubby cheeks have become more pronounced in the last few years.
I understand with women, it’s a constant struggle to accept and appreciate—or even love—what we were born with, all the physiological facets and contours that make each form unique.
I’ve picked up some strategies throughout the years to help combat the body blahs, whether it’s that puson [paunch] that makes you look pregnant, or those stubborn five pounds that seem more noticeable during that time of the month. I’ve learned to turn to them whenever I need a nudge or just overall accept the present and, as much as I would like to look (and weigh) like my 22-year-old self, my priority these days should be to be healthy and enjoy life and its multitude of culinary delights. And if you’re lazy like me, scanning—and following—these tips should be a piece of cake.
1. Start Small
I was a former athlete and I now live a sedentary life. And the thought of exercising just makes me want to be even more sedentary. I bet this is a common dilemma. My solution is to start really small: as in something so miniscule and seemingly irrelevant that it doesn’t put pressure on you to charge full steam ahead in terms of going to the gym and getting on the fitness bandwagon.
The other day I decided to get on a treadmill for exactly five minutes. That's right: five minutes of leisurely walking, no more, no less. I was literally still in my sleepwear and just slipped on my rubber shoes.
It doesn't even have to be a treadmill: you could grab a jump rope, do one push-up here, a crunch there. As the days go by and at your own pace, add little increments to your routine of choice. Before you know it, five minutes on the treadmill becomes seven, and then 10; one crunch and push-up becomes a set of 12. And surprise! You're actually…working out!
But if you’re still not ready to get off the couch just yet, skip to the next step…
2. Make Like The French
I had a Parisian colleague who stayed thin throughout the time I’d worked with her. And no, she didn’t obsess about what she ate or how often she exercised. In fact, she signed up for the company gym but only ended up going once a month. She would eat a croissant for breakfast at her desk daily, and almost everyday, she and I went to the same lunch buffet line in the cafeteria. One time, she even invited me to her apartment to dinner where she made pasta with cream and salad, which we enjoyed with glasses of wine and hunks of bread.
I know genetics plays a big part in how our body morphs (or dismorphs), but what I noticed with the French (at least from this one person I’d befriended) is that they eat in moderation and enjoy exquisite things and aren’t likely to binge on them. They have cheese with every meal, but not slabs of it. They have dessert with lunch, but not the whole cake. Realizing—and then copying—this manner of eating, I noticed that I rarely feel deprived (or worse: guilty) for indulging.
So if you’re craving for ice cream and cake, don’t skimp by going low-fat or diet. Get the real thing and don’t torture yourself into thinking that you’re never ever going to have more of it afterwards. Just feel welcome and entitled to the food you love to eat. You’ll be surprised that this tactic actually makes you eat less.
3. Take It From Chin-Chin
I met the actress, Chin-Chin Gutierrez, at a shoot a few years ago. Both vegetarians at the time (I now eat chicken; I think she’s still vegetarian), we got to talking about food and nutrition. She mentioned a particular sequence of eating and a theory that made sense and to this day I still try to follow: She said to start a meal with something raw, like fresh fruit or a crisp salad. Since these are natural products, our bodies recognize them easily and our stomachs produce enzymes that help digest food and whatever comes next in the meal.
That versus the usual way of eating something hot and cooked, and having fruit for dessert. From what I remember, this is how she explained it: “The hot meal has already been processed so it ‘surprises’ your belly. So by the time you introduce fruit for dessert, the enzymes go into overdrive and that’s when you get gas.”
Again, this is just a theory, but I like the idea of prepping your belly to digest food more efficiently (and well, yes, have less gas in the process).
4. A Little Green Tea (Goes A Long Way)I’ve heard before that Oprah was a staunch believer in the metabolism-boosting benefits of green tea. And I’ve seen people lose weight from taking concentrated green tea supplements. Now, I’m averse to anything in pill form unless it’s Claritin, Tempra, or Vitamin C, so freshly-brewed green tea is fine by me.
I actually started drinking tea not because of Oprah or those people who have lost weight, but rather, I quit going to Starbucks that year I started paying rent. I had to improvise and budget my money strategically, so home- (or office) made green tea it was for me.
Since I also happen to love dessert, I try to make it a point to wash it all down with tea—hot or cold, with little or no sugar especially when I’m already eating something sweet. I go as far as carry my own packets for when I’m being a cheapskate and just order hot water in restaurants.
5. Look Up!
Just like those ballerinas and dancers: It’s all about posture and form. Standing tall gives the illusion of a leaner, longer body. So if you find yourself staring at your belly, that means you’re not holding your head up high and you’re most likely slouching. Remember: It’s also about confidence. And the neatest part about confidence is that you can "fake it ’til you make it."
6. The Abs Diet
Some people have found fitness success in the South Beach Diet, or even Atkins. Personally, these programs have failed for me for the sole reason that they require one to give up sugar (and carbohydrates) for the first two weeks.
Now, I live and breathe sugar. Not a day goes by when I don't have a piece of chocolate or anything sweet. During previous Lenten Seasons, I chose to abstain from dessert or chocolate on Fridays, only to find myself waiting for midnight to have a piece of chocolate. I know it defeats the whole purpose of sacrificing and abstaining from something. But you get the drift.
Anyway, what worked for me that year I gained all that weight (that I still try to follow to this day) was the Abs Diet [Rodale] by US Men's Health editor, David Zinczenko. I went straight for the spin-off book, Eat Right Every Time Guide, because it was so small and undaunting. But boy, was it a treasure trove of easy, practical information that has helped keep the weight off, give or take a few pounds.
What I love about the Abs Diet is that it isn't really a ‘diet,’ but more of a lifestyle program that tells you what you have to eat MORE of, not the other way around, as in the case of other eating plans. The core of the program is the ABS DIET POWER 12, which stands for:
Almonds and other nuts
Beans and legumes
Spinach and other green vegetables
Dairy (fat-free or low-fat milk, yogurt, cheese)
Instant oatmeal (unsweetened, unflavored)
Eggs
Turkey and other lean meats
Peanut butter
Olive oil
Whole grain breads and cereals
Extra-protein (whey) powder
Raspberries and other berries
You only read the book once and you're pretty much set. No need to count calories or remember certain carbohydrates that are allowed or not allowed. Just eat often (Zinczenko recommends six times a day) and sensibly from the list above. Easy, right?
The small book also discusses fastfood options for when you’re on the go, plus easy MICROWAVEABLE breakfasts you can take with you to work or for those hectic days when the last thing you want to think about is your diet. After all, diet culprits are triggered by those hunger pangs when you can't think straight that you just reach for the next sugar bomb or grease grenade to quell the hunger…or mindlessly chow down lunch in front of the computer.
Zinczenko also addresses the issue of belly fat in the book (as the title suggests). “[This] is the most dangerous kind of fat. That’s because belly fat often comprises both subcutaneous fat (fat that’s under your skin) and visceral fat (fat that lies beneath your stomach muscles, snug up against your internal organs). It’s this second type, visceral fat, which can cause some long-term harm,” he explains.
“In one report, researchers concluded that visceral fat is the single-best predictor of diabetes.” Other studies also link that extra fat on your midsection as an indicator for high cholesterol and heart problems down the line. “Shedding fat from your frame is essential to living long and healthy,” says Zinczenko. So beware.
Anyway, if that doesn’t get you picking up the Abs Diet, just know that on it, you get to eat ice cream(!) AND lose weight at the same time! Not kidding.
7. Celebrate The Non-negotiables
Now, back to genetics: there are some things you can’t change unless you’re willing to go through the hassle of plastic surgery. In my case, I’ve always had a belly and paunch, even way back in high school when I only weighed as much Nicole Richie. The puson is just in the family.
It has crossed my mind several times to get liposuction (or mesotherapy injections), even on my cheeks or arms. But then again, I know that after lipo, the fat you do accumulate could show up in really odd places—like the armpits. I don’t think I’m ready to hop on that roller coaster. Plus, over the summer I’ve had some lumps on my breasts surgically removed; it wasn’t the most delightful experience and I promised I’d never ever go through surgery for the sake of vanity: It’s just not worth the pain and stress for me.
Besides, understanding your own unique contours and lovely lady parts makes fashion a more enjoyable undertaking full of promising surprises. Can you imagine what fun it is to find the perfect floral dress that accentuates your curves, or that skirt that emphasizes your behind in the most flattering of ways? If you’re considering cosmetic surgery, I suggest splurging on a new wardrobe instead and a night on the town with your best girlfriends. (And don’t forget the cake!)
Disclaimer: Before trying any new diet, eating plan, or exercise regimen, consult with your physician.
Part of this month's Cosmo Series, 15th of 16 posts also published at Cosmo.ph.
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Labels: books, celebrities, chocolate, Cosmopolitan, dessert, fab friends, faith, family, fashion, fitness, food, money matters, pro-blogging, recipes, something French
Elle Woods' heartbreak merited Harvard success.If there's one quote I've learned to appreciate and live by, it's this:
"There's a reason for every setback."I cannot begin to enumerate the number of times I've had "Aha!" moments just by realizing this.
My earliest memory of how this meaningfully—or even magically—worked in my life was 10 years ago. I was 19 and an avid climber at a gym near school. While I didn't exactly train everyday, I was a mainstay and felt quite at-home in there. At the time I'd already joined a handful of competitions, and was at a comfortable place.
Every year, the owner of the gym and staff picked a handful members for the national team training pool. The main perk of being part of this team was that one got to climb for free (monthly fees waived) and of course, get the prestige of being part of the group.
I thought I was a shoo-in for a slot until a friend told me I was overlooked, because I didn't exactly workout there everyday. (In retrospect, there was some truth to that; I spent more time having coffee and eating banana bread by the counter than actually scaling walls.)
Another friend got in. Suffice it to say, I was heartbroken. Being told I didn't make the cut for basically not seeming to want to train was insulting, plus, I could really use the free monthly training. I was on a very meager student budget at the time.
Feeling betrayed, I started avoiding that climbing gym altogether. Instead, I went to the other branch, owned by the same people, but the likelihood of seeing them, and other friends who casted their vote, weren't as likely because this other gym was FAR from the one by my school. I probably had to take two kinds of public transportation to get to that place but it was worth it: I could concentrate on climbing, training, and getting stronger.
And train, climb, and get strong I did. I focused on finishing difficult routes, and just kept climbing and climbing and climbing until my body smarted and my hands were as callused as a carpenter's.
During this time at the other gym, I got to partner and train with my friend and mentor, Marie Calica (former beauty editor of Marie Claire Philippines; visit her blog, The Beauty Coach here
I climbed my heart out. With Marie, I finished one of the toughest and highest walls there after weeks of training. Eventually, the same owner who gave me the thumbs down, noticed, and finally included me in that branch's roster for the nationals. For some reason the mechanics were different in that gym (there was no free training), but finally, I was part of Team Xxxxx-xx.
The moral of the story is: Diligence, hard work, and persistence always pay off.
It's just ironic that I had to travel miles to get to a place and earn my climbing merits, far away from the homebase. Strange, but worth it.
But here's why this incident is special and major to me. Fast-forward to succeeding events, months and years down the line:
1. Marie opened up the world of fashion and beauty for me. As in the kind that one can make a living out of. That's why I call her my mentor.
2. Marie's sister, Maya, became my first boss at Seventeen, where I interned for four months and eventually got hired as an editorial assistant.
3. I stayed in the magazine for years and eventually became beauty editor. At 24! And a freelance makeup artist.
(Take note, Marie is also a full-fledged makeup artist. In the beginning, I got weirded out for wanting to pursue the same thing, but what she said truly touched and encouraged me and warmed my heart: "There's lots of room for everybody." To this day I still maintain that same outlook when people approach me for advice.)
4. Five years after that summer, I became beauty editor of Cosmo! I got to travel the world and fully enjoy life as a magazine editor.
So you see, if that whole Team Rejection didn't happen, if I never got so heartbroken as to avoid my friends and flee to a faraway place, I would have never had the opportunity to train with a new climbing partner—whose influence extended beyond scaling walls. If it weren't for Marie, I would have never heard about freelance styling, beauty editing, or fashion sitting.
I have other stories to share in relation to finding reason and light in every setback. It would fill too many pages, but if any of you are going through a tough time, or if any recent development doesn't make sense at all, don't fret. This includes losing a job, breaking up with a boyfriend, or discovering a betrayal: It all leads to something wonderful and amazing that will knock your socks off.
Just wait and see.
(Image Courtesy of http://allmoviephoto.com)
NEXT Post - Back-to-Back Boo-boos
Labels: college, fab friends, faith, fitness, inspiration, life musings, pro-blogging, work
Big bites, little bites. There's something for everybody in the Big Apple.The last couple of days have been so busy that I didn't even realize I haven't blogged in 10 days! Yikes! Sorry to keep you all hanging. Now back to regular Inspiration programming :)
I was in New York this week, and have had quite a productive time out there. The trip included a list of tasks and errands to accomplish, and I must say I'm happy with the results.
The first thing that came to mind when I got to Grand Central was…I didn't miss it. Not just yet. Strange, huh? Then I went to Serafina—an old favorite hangout, for the fruity olive oil, blocks of parmesan, crusty-chewy bread, and thin-crust gorgonzola/pesto pizza—and saw two friends. I managed to squeeze in an errand in Harlem, a place I likened to Cubao, for the street vendors, clustered shops, and overall feeling of alertness I've had to harness at a young age while learning to commute around Manila.More than the errands and brimming to-do list, I discovered certain things about myself and the kind of lifestyle I'm drawn towards:
1. I was happy to go around town on my own, and I still enjoyed the pace people walked and the accessibility of each block.
2. I didn't find the need to fraternize with a large group, instead choosing simple one-on-one catch-up sessions with just a few friends.
3. I enjoyed the familiarity, but knew in my heart it wasn't time to go back. Again, not just yet.
Re: #2, at sporadic points during my trip, I felt a little bit sad after realizing that it's taken me some time to heal from the trauma of some failed friendships I had made over a year ago. If you read this blog regularly, I think you'd be able to piece together bits and parts of the story: from the breast cysts I got from the stress, down to the disbelief of being talked about for the first time in years, since high school.
I caught myself talking about this carelessly, when in fact, it should have already long been a closed book. Upon realizing this, I'd resolved to completely move on and refrain from even broaching the subject.
At mass earlier, it was as if God, through the Gospel reading, was telling me to do the exact same thing:
"Nothing that enters one from the outside can defile that person; but the things that come from within are what defile."
I likened this to the saying, "You can't change certain things or certain people; but you can change your reaction towards the circumstances."
It's true: Whatever hurt I'd experienced in the past, whatever the betrayal, the dishonesty, the misunderstandings…those were all external. And the only thing that can truly heal me, other than prayer, is my reaction and desire to move forward. So that's exactly what I'll will myself to do from this point on. Even if it means limiting the social scope of my future life in the city. So this time, I am truly going for quality. And besides, I'm not one to play the victim, it's so not my theme in life.
During the homily, as if echoing my decision to be more scrutinizing of the friendships I make and keep, the priest talked about the difference between being judgmental and protecting one's self. "If you have to avoid 'Fred' not because you are condemning him but protecting your own salvation, that's not being judgmental," he said. "But if you're focusing on Fred's faults, then the other saying from Christ Himself applies to you: 'Why do you look at the splinter on your friend's eyes, but not the beam in yours?'"
So this time, and like I've always had anyway but have at times succumbed to indulgent gossiping, I'm now all for 'peace that passes understanding.'
DAY 6 of the Inspiration Series
DAY 5 - "Take the plunge."
DAY 4 - "I have all I need."
DAY 3 - "Just wait for it."
DAY 2 - "You're a kind soul."
DAY 1 - "It smells like God." Labels: faith, inspiration, life musings, New York minutes, travel
"And if I need more, it'll come."
I just wrote that on my notebook and within minutes—or maybe seconds—the song, "All I Need" by Air (from the album, "Moon Safari: A Lunar Adventure") played randomly on iTunes. Doesn't that sound divine, literally? I know God listens and affirms with grace.
I had a full day with family today. I know for many of you reading this blog, it's not unusual to spend Sundays with loved ones, hearing mass, going out to lunch, shopping around town, enjoying a hearty dinner. But to me, this is something I treasure because I'd missed out on this for many years, having lived independently since my early teens and for most of my adult life.
I always joke with my mother that I've done this totally backwards. In the Philippines, most girls live with their parents until they're married. Some get their own apartments after graduation, but the former is the norm. I, on the other hand, am living with my mother for the first time since I was 13! It's as if I'm cashing in on those missed years. But Mom says it's not even an issue: I'm getting married, and I need to save up. And she loves having me around, taking advantage of her marvelous kitchen gadgets. So Thank you, mom.
Anyway, I dormed throughout high school and up to Freshman year college. By then my aunt and uncle said I should be spending college in a family environment (I was an only child at the time), so I lived with them, and my three cousins, for three years. We were quite close, to the point that my youngest cousin, who had been born the following year, thought I was her sister. Eventually, I moved out (and my cousin cried when she found out I was her cousin! Aww...)
Don't get me wrong, dear blog readers: To borrow Liv Tyler's words describing her childhood, "Mine was filled with love." There may have been times when my parents were absent, but everybody pitched in and provided me with a sense of family. Probably quite the non-traditional kind, but family nonetheless. My favorite aunt, Tita Joan, once said, "Family isn't just blood." And it's true.
As for those times my immediate family members were 'absent,' my dad, back then was new at his newspaper job and was busy toiling away at work to the point that he bunked with other reporters/editors in the office living quarters for many years. He didn't get paid much in the beginning, but he was able to send me to college and provide for me financially. Plus share helpful books (see my "Good Morning, America post from last year) and insights along the way.
My mother, on the other hand, was busy trying to get all of us a green card. These days she lives comfortably, but during her early years in the U.S., she took on several jobs to make ends meet. Eventually, after the strain of a five-year long distance relationship, she and my dad split. But I won't elaborate on that in this post (looong story).
Anyway, those three years I'd lived with relatives before moving out were quite critical in my growth as an adult human being:
At 16, Tito Al hired an instructor to teach me how to ride a bike. This was in Baguio, (a northern city in the Philippines) during a family vacation, and they didn't come get me until I was balancing/wobbling on my own. Within weeks, we were rough-riding at the construction site of what is now The Fort. I am not kidding—we were biking around tractors, submerged in dirt, on unpaved/non-existent roads. By Christmas that year, Tito Al and Tita Joan gifted me with a bicycle—one that I took to school, to the climbing gym, around town.
At 17 and 18, I learned to eat Boursin and Havarti, enjoy chewy walnut bread from the Mandarin Hotel, eat chicken baked in paprika, know what a clean kitchen and living room should look like, source seat covers from obscure places, PAINT a gate (not kidding!), clean and oil a bicycle, do long and short runs, make (or destroy) carbonara, and so forth. The works.
By 19, I was on my own, again. But armed and ready to be independent. I didn't go wild, I'd been trained well. I felt like a responsible adult.
In retrospect, I see that no matter how life seemed lacking or incomplete at different points in time, I'd actually been given the building blocks needed for each step of the way and every accomplishment. Sometimes it's just easier to fixate on what's missing, and crave for certain things, but looking at the big picture, it's all in there.
DAY 4 of the Inspiration Series
DAY 3 - "Just wait for it."
DAY 2 - "You're a kind soul."
DAY 1 - "It smells like God."
Image courtesy of http://www.tunequest.org/ (album) and http://www.abikestore.com (bicycle). Labels: celebrities, faith, family, inspiration, life musings, music
Little Amélie spending a leisurely day eating raspberries."Just wait, it'll come. The universe just gives it to you. Just sit and wait."
Now, my dad isn't space-age-y that way, in fact, he can sometimes be painfully objective and straightforward. But there is that side of him that churns out cool and catchy life mantras, many of which have come in handy during tough times at work. Here are some that I'd managed to write down in random pages of my notebook:
1. "Being down makes you flexible and enterprising. View this as a challenge."
2. "There are 14 million people in New York, according to Sex and the City. You'll find at least 10 good bosses in that 14 million."
3. "When a door closes, a window opens—or break a window!"
4. "Plant seeds. They bear fruit at the right and perfect time."
5. "Don't step on people on your way up, so on your way down, they'll catch you instead of kicking you lower."
6. "Enjoy the search. It's about the travel more than the destination. So travel tomorrow."
7. "EBAY." :)
And my favorite so far is:
8. "Don't sit on your garlands."
(a.k.a. "Never rest on your laurels.")
As for "waiting for it," he may be right. I am a true believer in Divine Inspiration and Timing.
With this Inspiration Series, when I was forming it in my head, I'd intended it to be regular, but not daily pieces, unlike the 30-Day Blog Challenge wherein I'd blogged for 30 consecutive days, with one or two scheduled posts within the series. But I find that everyday, a burst of inspiration (sometimes, two) just instantly leads me to start typing away on the keyboard, and I don't have to rack my brain for the perfect words; they just flow. Cool huh?
Well of course, with that, I follow the standard writing/editing mantra of "Create and collate," meaning, write freely, go with the flow of your thoughts, and then edit: Check for form, grammar, readability, and so forth.
DAY 3 of the Inspiration Series
DAY 2 - "You're a kind soul."
DAY 1 - "It smells like God."
Image courtesy of http://intimatevignettes.blogspot.com Labels: faith, family, fashion, inspiration, New York minutes
I will survive the next round.Today I made a call to the Digital Film Academy in New York City to inquire about their 14-week Digital Film Making course which gives students a chance to learn to write, produce, direct, edit, and publish their own films. This skill set, I believe, is great to have in this economic clime, where print media is struggling to meet advertising quotas and at the same time churn out quality content even with skeletal staffs on board. (I DO still love paper, magazines, books, and newspapers by the way!)
I spoke to the president, Patrick DiRenna, who had a very subtle New York accent and whose demeanor on the phone was surprisingly very helpful. In my head I felt that I had to speed it up and ask the appropriate questions so as not to waste his time—but I also could tell that he welcomed my inquiry.
After getting all the information I needed, I politely said goodbye, thank you, and take care, to which he warmly replied, "You're a kind soul, I could tell by your voice."
I was stunned yet, at the same time, felt a surge of happiness. Comments like that are heartwarming, especially for someone who's been rejected the world over in a span of less than two years in Manhattan. These career blows are mainly why, this year, I've taken to living and traveling anywhere and everywhere else but NYC. (Part of my income still comes from there though, from off-site editing work. And my belongings are in a storage facility in Queens.)
But recent developments, along with this detoxing, stress-relieving sabbatical, have truly recharged my batteries and put things back in perspective: I feel that next year would be better and I would be able to take another bite of the Big Apple. I, once again, have a grasp of the little bits and pieces that will propel me towards my next undertaking. I just have to listen, seek, and very importantly: follow through.
DAY 2 of the Inspiration Series
DAY 1 "It smells like God."
Image courtesy of Paulo Barcellos at Flickr.com Labels: faith, inspiration, magazines, New York minutes, travel, work
I recently ordered a box of Pocket Inspiration cards from my former boss and editor at Seventeen, Maya, who now creates these lovely pieces: from the writing, design, and illustration (you can get them from her Etsy shop online).
The small padded envelope arrived containing the following: a handwritten note from Maya herself, wishing me well for my upcoming wedding, a tiny card with instructions on how to use the cards, a small wooden clip with a tiny orange ladybug bead attached to it (too cute!), little white envelopes, and the cards encased in a lavender box tied with native twine.
I noticed that the note I was holding was lightly scented. My little brother was a few steps away so I showed it to him. He exclaimed, "Wow, it smells like God!" My heart immediately swelled and I almost got teary eyed. As we unwrapped the white envelopes, he again said, "They smell like God, too!" I can't exactly describe the scent, but the closest I could get to putting it to words is that it's a mix of a powdery floral aroma with a subtle tinge of musk.
So Maya, if you're reading this, thank you for making these cards: They're precious—and I'm calling them my little pieces of heaven. I know they're also meant to be shared with other people, to "make it your intention to inspire," but I'll forever treasure them, whether they fly away or stay close by.
DAY 1 Thanks to a blogger tip I recently read and in light of today's lovely parcel, I'd like to start an Inspiration Series—seven posts that are meant to inspire and warm the heart—starting TODAY.
Throughout my adult life, I've been trained to visualize my goals and break them down into smaller steps to make them happen. I usually make a list and a timeline, so you can imagine the kind of frustration I subject myself to whenever said plans fail to come to fruition.
I'm also thinking that, perhaps, I should start focusing on living in the moment. I've noticed a pattern of my relishing and enjoying my achievements (or simply realizing I had any) months, or even years they've happened. Maybe because I'm always comparing myself/my work/what I'm doing to others and I tend to set high standards and that's probably why I always feel like I'm not doing enough, no matter how busy things get.
A recent episode of Oprah guested finance maven, Suze Orman, and an audience filled with people who have lost their jobs and homes, all now in despair and feeling a deep loss. Orman pleaded to the grieving audience to follow this piece of advice:
"Think about what you have instead of what you had."
It's so simple yet so straightforward and true. For those who have lost value in their homes, this is how Orman urged them to phrase their sentiment:
BEFORE: "My house was worth $500,000 and now it's just $200,000."
AFTER: "My house is worth $200,000."
The second statement is uplifting and propels one to a more proactive mindset. (Of course everyone is allowed a grieving period.)
So whenever you find yourself with the blues and the what-ifs; saddled with regret and longing for all that was lost in the past, heed this mantra and watch a small ray of sunshine brighten up a clouded perspective.
View from Mother Cabrini Shrine.• Walk in the park; helped teach little bro how to ride a bike. Got a good workout from holding his seat and sprinting as he pedaled.
• Swam in a warm pool while the parents shopped for Western boots.
• Got snacks from the small 'market' in the lobby: Nestle Toll House ice cream sandwich, mixed nuts, and lemonade; hung out in relatives' room, who later arrived with pizza slices.
• Went home to give everybody time for siesta. I made my first batch of chocolate chip cookies in years (haven't made any since college).
• Back to the hotel to pick up aunt and uncle; drove to Red Rocks Ampitheatre, but didn't get in because of a concert; ended up at the Mother Cabrini Shrine where we climbed hundreds of steps to reach the top of the hill (mountain?). Prayed.
• Hearty dinner of sizzling salmon fillet, asparagus spears, and wasabi garlic mashed potatoes. Leisurely accessories shopping for cousins/nieces at Forever 21.
• Quick shoe scan where I found a cute pair of Puma sneakers called "Simplice." (No, I didn't buy them, was just happy to look around.)
• Wished family Bon Voyage!; lots of hugs and goodbyes. Got sad ... all the more I now look forward to the holidays.
• Home. Chai latté. Chocolate chip cookie. Blog. Labels: chocolate, dessert, faith, family, fashion, food
Raoul Eraña was one of the cutest, nicest, and most personable people at Summit Media. I say "cutest" because in an office filled with women's titles, the guys who came in were immediately noticed and scrutinized. And Raoul was definitely a keeper.
While we weren't particularly close, we'd exchanged warm hellos and casual conversations in the hallways and work stations. He was from marketing and the girls in editorial easily warmed up to him, thanks to his easygoing personality. He had a vast collection of Hed Kandi albums and at some point, I got a few tracks so some of my old iTunes songs are still labeled 'from Raoul.'
A few months ago, Raoul was diagnosed with a brain tumor. He underwent operations to remove it and ended up in a coma. One would look at his Facebook page and see so many friends urging him to "Wake up!" I cried the first time I saw those messages; they were both cheery and heartwarming. I was still hopeful and prayed for a miracle, God-willing.
But now he's gone. I can imagine how terrible the people in his life must feel. His girlfriend, his parents...he was an only child. I try to never question the will of God, even at times I don't understand it. And I still can't help but ask: Why does someone so young have to die? I only pray for the Lord to strengthen the people Raoul has left behind and to guide them each step of the way along their healing process.
Raoul, you will be missed. I know you'll have fun in heaven, enjoying your best music ever. (I bet it's truly heavenly, beautiful, and never-ending.)
Healing comes in many forms. There is the kind of recovery one gets from the hospital, stitches carefully sewn, medicines meticulously prescribed, all to address the body's aches and pains. Prayer to me is a given, as I've already witnessed countless miracles in my lifetime and I'm inclined to say that my faith in the Lord is steadfast and I pray for it to only get stronger as I get older.
And then there is the kind of emotional salve by which to this day I am continually amazed for its cathartic properties. Years ago, I picked up from one of my early editors the idea of writing to a person who has caused you hurt and wounded your being. She had, at the time, penned all her woes to an ex who cheated on her.
What initially baffled me about this process was that it entailed writing an elaborate letter and NOT sending it. Over the years, I would read articles left and right touting this method of dealing with one's anger and resentment towards another.
A few nights ago, I tossed and turned, and like an unwelcome ghost, was haunted once again by feelings of hurt and frustration borne out of an experience in New York involving some people (barely friends) saying scathing things about me. What angered and struck me the most, was the ignorance and malignancy of the rumors, directed to someone who has kept a clean reputation all these years.
I sat up and wrote an email, hoping to finally clear the air out and have one less aggravator to attribute the L.A.N.Y.s to.
I saved the file intending to send it in the morning, and then slept on it. The next day, it wasn't until mid-afternoon that it occurred to me that I hadn't sent the email yet. And I actually no longer felt the need to because I already felt better. It dawned on me, again, the miraculous qualities of writing and "simmering"—essentially letting go and moving on.
Hi everyone! Here's a quick update (while an unfinished blog entry is simmering in the backburner). My good friend and Neighbor, The Beauty Writer, left a comment in the previous post saying I should update because my readers are worried. Sorry guys! And thanks so much for all who showed their concern :) I got out of the hospital safe and sound, a little squeamish, but alive nonetheless. I can now truly say that I will never ever get breast implants or any form of cosmetic surgery involving scalpels and intravenous medication. It's an exaggeration to say that I am hospital-averse, but I am not kidding: not counting reconstructive surgery in tragic situations, I see no reason why women should willingly, for the sake of vanity, subject themselves to all the poking, prodding, injecting, IV-ing... aghh! So, I am simply thankful and happy that I survived the operating room. I'm now just waiting for the results of the biopsies on the L.A.N.Y.'s so watch this space please and thank you so much in advance for all the prayers and well-wishes!
UPDATE 06/03/09: The L.A.N.Y.'s are benign! Thank you, Lord! :) Also, I recently found out that soy is considered a phytoestrogen (or a plant estrogen) known to mimic the qualities of the human hormone. Breast lumps, in theory, are considered to be the byproduct of high levels of estrogen in women. I only started eating bags of edamame in New York, so that could have been a factor, and stress, another. If you have a copy of this month's U.S. Men's Health, an article there (sorry, I forget the name and page) explains the effects of too much soy in grown men. But I'm sure a quick Google on "soy" will give you all pertinent information.
