Sunday, January 13, 2008


I grew up with the sound of the radio hovering over every activity at home. My mom loves to tune in to various radio programs. My dad, on the other hand, usually listened to the music of his generation. And then, there is my elder brother who got into singing. Later on, my youngest brother began to study the violin.

During my high school days, I remember the little choir of our batch. I still can recite from memory certain lyrics of musicals that were such a fad. Music from Les Miserables, Miss Saigon, and then Evita from my college days. And of course, we had the choir as well as the musical presentations at church.

Where am I heading with all of these? I just wanted to say that I grew up with music. I love music. Love humming. Love listening. Love hearing the words crooned by a romantic lover, the despair of a broken heart, the lilt in the voice of a lady being wooed, the contented tone of a reciprocated soul.

But a few years ago, maybe around two, I stopped listening to music. Especially those about the yearning of a heart in search for love. These kinds of songs haunt me. They make me think of things that I know I should not long for. They have a tendency to awaken feelings that could be illusionary when it is not yet the right time. And so I limited myself to the songs of love for my God. In a way, it was my way of surviving. I know that a heart can be taught. Worse, it can be deceived. What the mind thinks, the heart may believe. I truly believe that whatever you feed your mind, it can become the content of the heart. To protect myself, to guard my fragile heart, I chose not to listen to songs that the world feeds our soul.

I do want to listen again to songs of love. I will listen once God has bestowed on me the gift of love from the man He has chosen for me. For now, I am content to sing songs of glory, from my mouth and from my heart.

Sunday, October 28, 2007


I heard from someone the words “social smoking.” It was the first time for me to hear that phrase. It is much like social drinking. These are both actions that people who are not normally in the habit of doing would then do the same things when out with a certain group of people.

Of course, it doesn’t matter to me what other people do with their own bodies at their own time. But the person who does the social smoking also shared to me that she has asthma.

This made me think. Are there things that we are willing to do because they are being done in the name of socializing? An asthmatic person becomes a smoker when out with friends. A usual teetotaler downs 5 bottles of beers during a dinner with clients. Are they right in doing what they do just to regain the acceptance and approval of others?

Principles are the foundation of a person’s heart. What we do in private must be the ones we are also espousing in public. Double standard makes me question the person’s credibility.

But then, it is not always easy to stand for what is right. Still, by being consistent, I believe we can earn the respect of others. And respect our own selves.

Sunday, September 23, 2007


Many years ago, a young lady made me an accountability partner in her love life. It was not because I had more experience in this aspect of life. It meant that I have the responsibility to check up on her promise to be pure until she gets married. By so doing, she gave me the right to meddle in this part of her life in case she has started to go astray.

This kind of accountability is easy. If ever I correct or rebuke her, she can’t blame me. She gave me the permission. I have to exercise my right. And so, I ask her from time to time. And happily, she can look me in the eye.

But there is another kind of accountability. The one that develops through the number of years that a friendship lasts. This one can be a bit tricky. You never know just when you have crossed the line between caring and meddling. It depends on the perspective of the friend whom you are trying to help. It rests on how far a supposedly good friend is already intervening.

Present from the beginning of a courtship, I became concerned for my good girl friend. I sensed something different about her admirer. I could honestly say that the guy was really nice. Yet, I knew somehow that he is not the right guy for her. I couldn’t tell her my inkling. I felt that I would be intervening and that she wouldn’t be listening to me anyway. She was falling. I remained silent. I watched the relationship bloom. Yet in the end, the guy broke her heart. And it was only then that I told her about what I perceived.

Many times, I felt the urging to remind a friend that what he or she is doing is not correct. Most often than not, I disregard these urgings. I opt to be silent with my principle that people would rather learn from their pains and hurts than from the experience or the wisdom of others. I am wondering though. Is this really my only reason? Or maybe I just fear the consequence of my actions?

Until now, I still do not know when to cross the line. I have doubts. I fear the angry reactions. Mostly, the possibility of losing a good friendship.

Maybe I will never learn it. Maybe, what I am meant to do is to provide a ready shoulder when they cry. I can’t help it though. I still feel that I should be doing something more. Prevent them from experiencing the falling of tears.

Monday, August 27, 2007


Words are powerful. It can make or break a situation or an association. Words of endearment can clinch a connection. A level tone in a business meeting may close a transaction. When there are words of hesitation, it is sure that the discussion could be long. Statements of anger may forever break a friendship and even hasten a separation.

I hate it though when things you have said are misconstrued. Or what you wanted to put across are not the ones that were transmitted. When the ideas that you relayed were meant to make people think and to find a solution. Instead, what was transmitted was judgment. What you shared was misrepresented.

It is also hard to hear how words can be employed to switch meaning. The initial concept was totally overturned. When what was applicable was for a particular case and it was generalized.

Like a moth that got singed by a candlelight, I am becoming wary of talking to people. It is making me more afraid of opening my thoughts and my opinions. Sharing is making yourself vulnerable to misconceptions.

I hope this won’t last long. I know I have to accept that life can hurt. As Rocky Balboa said, it is the standing up again that matters. I have to for I know that it is also my loss when I stop communicating.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007


I used to associate rain with trials. It often brings traffic. And makes going home difficult. Not only does it wet the lapels of your pants, it can force you to stay under whatever shelter is available. It puts you into contact with people whose only similarity with you is that they were also caught by the sudden downpour.

But for the past few days, many were praying for the rain to come. Waters in our dams are in critical levels. One hydraulic power generator shut down. Several creeks had dried up. Farmers are bemoaning the drought that is rubbing them of their crops. And thus, many have prayed.

Beyond this very real situation, I have been changing my view of rain. I welcome the coolness it brings. I enjoy the sound it makes as it falls down on asphalt. I like it best when it maintains a constant strength and volume, without thunders or lightnings. Just the plain beauty of falling rain.

It is my dream to one day dance under the rain. To abandon myself to the feeling of getting wet and then hearing its music when it falls on the earth.

Sunday, August 5, 2007

Dual birthdays

Hmmm. Just another day. Except I get greetings and gifts. Sometimes surprise dinners and lunch treats. Yes, I still go to work. I go through the motions of taking calls and trying to do work but most of the time I get to do nothing.

Not having enough resources, my family never really celebrated birthdays and other special events. I don’t think I ever missed having a party. Only because not one amongst us members had one. So it was fair and square for all of us. As we often say, what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

It was only later on that I have come to realize that I lacked something. Or did I really? I became conscious of the difference when I attended the 18th birthday of my college classmate. Otherwise I wouldn’t have known. I might have guessed that it was just a regular goings-on.

I have come to accept the situation. For the principle of my parents is true. Why spend so much on birthday celebrations when you can use the money for one year’s tuition fee? I am a product of this. I was able to finish school. The children of my father’s colleagues weren’t so lucky. They chose instead to be frivolous for a day and leave unfinished the schooling of their kids.

Until now, many years later, we still don’t celebrate birthdays that much. I have learned to spend it out with friends and colleagues.

I view birthdays cynically. You just get a year older. You get greetings. You get gifts. Most often than not, I try to review the past year ( I also try to do this every new year). But then it is over and then it is the next day. Just like any other regular day.

Maybe it is not a good way to celebrate your birthday. But then, that is how it is.

Today, this blog has just been born.