Should There Be Butterflies?

I was sending a reply email to a good friend who simply asked me about where my personal life is going. She asked if there are any butterfly sparks she should know and instead of giving her a clear categorical answer, i ended up giving her a blog piece.

...I dont have much faith in sparks and chemistry anymore. I guess im just passed that. Somehow, somewhere in the middle of all the fantasies lodged in my reality--or better yet, realities lodged in my fantasy, i have realized that blissful romance cannot exist! If it does, it wont last and sooner or later one is always bound to get hurt. No im not closing my doors, nor am i being sarcastic or bitter. Im being truthful and honest. I mean, if we are to find someone who can be with us as our lifetime partners, watching sunsets, making our coffee more meaningful, or even just someone to make us coffee...then the sparks flying cannot sustain all that, it simply will not hold, it wont last....but the companionship, the 'thereness' is simply what counts... :)

Now im not sure if this is really what being 31 sounds like....but if it is, im not disagreeing. I think its about time i cut back on the dreams and start living in the real world.

Birthday Gift

I heard that sometimes the most beautiful thing to do is to give. And only when its really worth so much does the giving become more meaningful. I have been cradling this love and many times i found myself clasping it close, too scared to set it free, too tired to let it be ...

This time im ready to give it so it may grow. And this birthday i have given the greatest gift i could ever give in this life. And i guess what i heard is true. If its really special, if its sincere, and if its given from the heart, then, and only then, can one say she has truly loved.

...only a fool would commit what he knows to language; much less would he put what he has learned into a form which is unrevisable and which can fall into the wrong hands, namely the form of a written text ... -Heidegger

A Letter

This was an email i received in 2001 from a very good friend who is now based in Canberra. Its one of those friendships that can cut across time and you're just proud to have. We dont often communicate but thats the best part because whenever he is in town we always pick up right where we left off. Hmmm, the last time we met was June '06.

There's always room for a good walk, quiet moments when our thoughts are doing the talking, a piece of a song, his guitar strings, cuesticks and tofu, big laughs till we couldnt breathe, and just a remebrance that never fails to encourage the spirit and warm the heart.

I look back and I am blessed to have found a true friend. He saw me at my worse, knows my darkest secret, and held my heart when it was falling. I think he was the one who made me try sodoku knowing how bad i was (and still am) with numbers. Taught me to play billiards when for years i sucked at it. Inspired me to go back to my grad studies when i completely abandoned it. Helped me find myself when i was just about ready to lose it. He taught me honesty.

And if i never had the chance to say this before, for the record i want to say Thanks to God. Not to the guy because he might just forget, or might think of it as one of our dialectics. But most importantly a meaningful thank you to God, for bringing him into my life that i may never forget the identity and value of a real friend.


Hi Majorie,

As promised, a reply. How are things? I trust Crossover is running efficiently as usual. Still, I'm wondering how you are and how you're feeling about life in general. Do let me know when you have the time.Tell me about the revitalising manila trip.

The 'concept' with me is that yes I have decided to accept USC's offer for next semester. I will teach the graduate course in history and an udnergrad anthropology course. I am quite looking forward to it, though I'm feeling very sad because I will again have to leave many things here that I hold dear. But one must do what one has to do.

This next phase will be very different from before. I do not intend to live in walingwaling. I've decided that I should rent out an apartment or pension house of some sort. I was hoping that you could give me some ideas on where and how much a good place might be -- somewhere near the rotonda. You know how i value independence maje. I think I owe myself the simple pleasures of once again having my own space.

I have been corresponding with Stefan and my European trip in September is a certainty. He tells me constantly about Kofi (I asked him to take care of him for me) and always coughs when he feels a heart attack coming along. Problem is, I can't stop him from constantly exposing his shaamhaar. Damn German.

Emotionally, I'm terrific. I've reestablished my rightful position within 'the loop' of my circle of friends. I was right in anticipating that I would miss them more than I knew. Sorry about that jazzy email the other day by the way -- it was an accident. But at least now you know the types of things we get up to and how we go about planning them (that was a great great great night by the way).

Gotta go, mein freund. I expect nothing less than a thoughtful response about the concept with you alright? I will be waiting.

Take care.
xo
J.

being

The last few days i have been spending many hours trying to revise my dissertation proposal. I spent it in my favorite starbucks for 10 hours a day just trying to get work done. Reading, writing, and just carefully trying to comprehend what Suzuki and Heidegger seemed to be saying. When i got home almost midnight from staying all day in the coffeeshop, i'd still encode and edit those i wrote in the afternoon and stay up till three or four in the morning...

So, in the last two weeks there have been no sunrise episodes, no early rising, no french toast breakfasts where im the first customer in this other coffeeshop thats closer to home. I'd wake up and i can sense that its way past ten and the chance for early morning peace and quiet is already lost.

Perhaps this is the price i pay for being encouraged and being moved to write and write well. The last week of May, i attended a philosophical conference and there i was inspired by the speakers. I wanted to be like my mentors, to be sprawling in depth and insight in philosophy. I wanted to have even that breath of confidence. I wanted to finish my dissertation.

So as this semester begins, and as i will have time to do my reserach I pray that everything will go smooth. This is my plan and yet i am hoping that God may grant me this wish. I simply want to make my work worthy and meaningful, not just for me but for others who are in the same line of interest. Continuing my work now i am reminded of why i took philosophy in the first place. And now i am certain i am still in the right track. It has something to do with the passion for truth, the relentless pursuit of knowledge, that deep questioning of all grand narratives, and yet still be anchored in faith.

In spite of all the books, the online journals, the drafts, the sore index finger, i am thankful that even in the midst of all the floundering and everydayness i can still manage to sit back and take pleasure in the details. I thank God for my peace.

I wish i knew the song first :)


COFFEE
by COPELAND


There's plenty of time left tonight
I promised I'd have you home before daylight
We do the best we can in a small town
Act like big city kids when the sun goes down

If it's not too late for coffee
I'll be at your place in ten
We'll hit that all night diner
And then we'll see

There's so many things I have to say
I'll stay up all night to hear about your day
We do the best we can in a small town
Act like kids in love when the sun goes down

If it's not too late for coffee
I'll be at your place in ten
We'll hit that all night diner
And then we'll see

There's a love that transcends
All that we've known of ourselves
And I'll wait for it to come
I'll wait for it to come
Well it's got to be strong to touch my heart
Through it's shell
And I'll wait for it to come
I'll wait for it to come

Armchair

I am praying for my armchair. A little space in this universe where i can read and write. I just want to be sprawling in depth and in verse in philosophy. I need my space. I may have to resort to my usual coffee place but it can be pretty expensive.

I MISS MY AMICI DAYS where coffee was just 30 pesos and i have the joint all to myself. I could sit there for hours just reading and writing bringing with me my books, notebook, ballpen and cd's and just let the barista play it. I was comfortable, too comfortable that i even thanked the place in my master's thesis. 2001-2003 were meaningful years because of my Amici.

I pray God will grant me this wish. My literal place in this world. My armchair.

Feeble Thoughts


"You smiled and talked to me of nothing and i felt that for this I had been waiting long" - Rabindranath Tagor


A few minutes ago while i was in the middle of bitter gourd chicken fricasse and rock lobster...i suddenly thought of a great line that i have to keep in my blog or lose the moment forever. Here it is ...

i find myself always stuck in a song, somewhere lodged between the lyrics and reality suspended overtime.

Thank God for My Pain

Four days ago i accidentally caught my pointer finger as i slammed the car door shut. I wanted to just scream from the impact and say nothing major happened...i wanted to pretend like such clumsiness could never happen to me ... i wanted to just go straight into the cafe and order my hot white chocolate mocha ... i wanted to try to relive that evening and hope i'd never have to feel this pain ... but life is not always about happy endings and sooner or later we all mess up sometimes. And i did ... apart from my index finger that has a fractured bone, with the nail totally pulled out from the root at the emergency room where i made a spectacle of myself wailing in pain, my already squished finger tip thats caked with blood and anti-bacterial ointment even now, and the top of my finger turning a shade of green from the shots i had to endure that fateful night, i dare say, i feel good!

And coming from a person with zero tolerance for physical pain, its a miracle! the whole time while i was waiting for my turn to be attended in the ER (940pm-1230am) which was a good three-hour wait, without pain killers or anesthesia, when all the people that should know have been informed, i had my agonizing moment with God.

I didn't blame Him or question Him for my stupidity. But i was practically begging Him to bail me out of my misery. I wanted Him to hold my hand the whole time and tell me its ok. To carry me and whisper soothing words of calm into my ears. I did not literally hear his voice but somehow i felt i was learning to be still. Lifted from my torment and just ironically comforted by the pain.

I felt the pain, and, yes, even now i still do, gravely. But somehow i have been reassured. And for days i tried to find the perfect verse of scripture that will explain my unbelievable strength. And its only now that i am taken back to John 16:33 "I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world!"

Thank God for my pain. And with the experience i had the physical sting is not the only measure of my troubles. Emotionally, spiritually, i have been beaten as well. I look at my finger now and i can see a reflection of my suffering. But i dont dwell on that anymore. I have come to realize that in this world, this life i lead, i will always be bruised. I will never be enough. I will forever be distracted, dissatisfied, discontented with an eternity of wants unless i put my rest on God. Only then will i have peace.

This finger will heal and in time the nail will grow back. And this pain i feel now will only be a distant memory. But the significance and meaning of this pain will always be remembered. I have to feel the pain to know that God will not give me anything i cannot handle. I need pain to remind me that i am weak. I have to feel this pain so i can seek God again. I need this pain so i may learn to draw strength in God alone.

Praise God for my pain.

unforgotten

walking old streets of japan
or in some far away train
memories haunt me
like days without rain

a book opens to a page
gives a glimpse, a view
a forgotten portrait
cruel hands of fate

coffee cups empty chairs
silenced weeping
distant dreaming
come back to me

like a child thats lost
bitter tears gone dry
a song in my heart
do you remember?

my soul rests tonight
straw sheets of empty
restless young spirit
to be is not to be

Conviction of the Heart

I have been floating aimlessly for sometime now, trying to grasp my anchor. I have cast my grip on one too many fleeting pursuits that my life has been an endless tragedy of waiting. The truth is i will always end up frustrated and in terrible want if i stay the same. I have been told, i have been shown, i ought to commit and be redeemed.

There are too many mediocre things in this world that i must know what is the truth. I will never be contented, but i wll forever be dissatisfied. I will never be perfect for i am sinful by nature. I can never make it on my own, unless i rest my trust on God. That my presence in this world is never about me but about Him. That it is not my own toil, effort and hard work that will save me, but by the grace of God alone.

My life is absurd. My heart has labored much. My soul is weeping. I am broken. But because of the blood on the cross my being rejoices and i dance in thanksgiving.


I take heed in John 16:33 "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world!"

Elizabethtown

I kept seeing part of this movie on cable. Im not a big fan of Orlando Bloom or Kirsten Dunst, but since i had nothing better to do earlier, i opted to watch the film on HBO.

I seriously liked some parts of the movie. I enjoyed the epic conversation of Drew and Claire and i wondered if people were still crazy enough to indulge in such experience. For now, text messages, forwarded emails, and an easy forgetfullness of moments are what is convenient. Who would dare talk to someone, close to a complete stranger at that, and decide to meet in time for sunrise just to enjoy the view? Sometimes people have completely lost their faith on humanity and the simple pleasures of 'being there for that moment'. There has been too much analysis, too much data, that it actually ruins the beauty of spontaneity. And, still, i wonder more if people given our average everydayness, can still take the time to dance in the encounters we have of the people we meet everyday? Wouldn't it be a treat?

Another scene that I completely loved was the roadtrip. I love driving. I take that back, if i knew how and if i had a car, i would probably take that detour all the time and attempt to get lost on the road only to find leisure in finding my way back--with some music, of course! Yeah, if there's one thing i truly miss about my stint in the states,its the passenger seat i endeavored with my sister on the wheel. I wish i can just take off and drive somewhere far, just go on driving, and ride like the wind.

Elizabethtown was not really that spectacular, now that i have thought about it more. I even got bored along the way except for those two scenes that really hit home for me. I am honestly grateful for times like this, when i can appreciate what i watch and reflect it on my life. "We can be friends for the rest of our lives" - could have really been a great line worthy of meaning if they didn't meet again. But i guess Elizabethtown was more of a love story... i used it to reconnect with my being and it feels great to have generated enough thought to write this entry....

And im blabbing now. i think i just feel good. Two days ago a friend asked me what i did to my other blog, i told him i quit, after 6 years of documentation i quit, for the reason that i blabbed on too much...and its happening again...

I guess all i really wanted to point out are these questions:

how far would you go for a friend, for family, for yourself?
will you take the time to explore and do something you have been wanting to do for so long but never really got around to do it?
if you have the chance to make that one epic phone call, who would you be talking to?
and if somebody reached out, will you take the time to talk and listen?

Music

Music is my passion. The closest philosopher i could think of with a penchant for music is Nietzsche and his taste for Wagner. Though they did not really end in good terms, but thats just Nietzsche being himself. I on the other hand, am amazed by how cultivated my ear for music have been over time.

I was always a sucker for romantic ballads, and the glam rock of the 80's just fueled my desire and coupled by a handful of teen-age angst, i was always either one of two things whenever i listened to RTZ, La Guns, Poison, Bon Jovi and the like -- Thought i was on top of the world or the world's biggest loser. The 80's new wave also made me got hooked to Flesh for Lulu, OMD, Till Tuesday, The Motels, Tears for Fears and DuranDuran tracks.. And then the 90's came and ushered artists like Wilson Philips, Amy Grant's HATS album was a huge favorite, and Lighter Shade of Brown's Sunday Afternoon became my official hip/trip song. And for some reason i felt untouchable. Towards the later part of the 90's i crossedover to Jazz and a little RnB. I pretty much settled for the music of Benoit, Tom Scott, Sergio Mendez, Spyro Gyra. And through the years i would listen to my all time favorites like U2, Sting, Everything But the Girl, Hall & Oats, Toto, and Mike Francis.

Today, though, its rare if i can even chance on their music. I no longer listen to the radio, and though i have all the CD's of the musicians mentioned above, i just dont go out of my way to listen to them. Im not anymore after the thrill i get once i listen to Climie Fisher's Rise to the Occassion or the goosebupms i have over 38 Special's Second Chance...these songs have had their tenure in my life and they will always be remembered. And i will always look back to them with fondness and maybe once in a while go back to them for reminiscence of who i was. But not right now.

For now i am more attuned to songs of worship. Never in a million years did i think i would get stuck listening to songs of praise. But i am and everyday for almost two years now, i play the songs of Matt Redman, Don Moen, Hilsong, Mercy Me, Katinas, Bob Fitts, Martin J. Nystrom, Chris Rice, Casting Crowns, and its only now that i have felt such peace. And my attitude when i listen to music is not anymore like i want to get high, its a rest for my soul, a refuge from the world, a moment of prayer.

Throwness

Being in this world submits one to a phenomenon of 'thrownness'. As Sartre aptly puts it ... "man is thrown into existence out of accident lives out of habit and dies by chance" ... a rather pessimistic view but amusing just the same.

This blog, then, endeavors to pursue the meaning of being-thrown-into-this-world from a standpoint of a struggling philosopher who welcomes the encroaching interlude of faith. What once was a mere arcane view of the universe has now become a beautiful possibility of redemption.

Come and experience the pursuit of the everyday where the mundane are made meaningful and the extravagance of space and time are captured into one existential query - who am i?