A slice of truth

"Are we all the same in a mirror image?  Is this the real life of what is?", asked my little brother.  

"Will you say a foolish thought is foolish simply because the majority ruled it as such?...Does truth lose it bearing if all is given light to?", he queried.     

Here's an attempt to answer his questions.

photo from www.brahmakumaris.org

Everything I see with my eyes is real
Not true
The reality I know is an illusion
In essence, I am just a point


A soul
a being of light
A spirit
I am energy



The body
is simply a tool for me to express
It is like a cellphone
And I am the sim


In fact, everyone's a sim
Only in different cases
Each one with different roles
Just as there are simple phones and androids


Essentially at the core we are all the same
The differences I see is not real
If we remove the cases
We are all dots


Beings of light
With everything we need
Peace, power, purity
love and happiness



The world is a stage
With the sun and the moon as lights
This is where I act out my role
Just as in a play, one day the curtains will close


This is not my home
But I have attached my heart to it
Because I've been here for a long time
I thought I am of the earth


Gradually, my battery has diminished
And so has my power
I thought I am of dust
So I grab only the visible



I thought that the goal
Is to become bigger and taller than the the skyscrapers
So I scramble for hats on my head and strings of relations
I will do anything to accumulate stickers and stamps


But I am a spirit
When I leave 
I leave the hats, strings, stickers and stamps
Only the good and bad credits remain


The world now has become a graveyard
The material and the differences hold the spotlight
People suffer because of anger
Greed, ego, lust, attachment



We have to remember
Who we truly are
We are beings of light
Stars from the abode light 
Who have come down here simply to  play our parts


We are here to express
Our truest selves
One which is filled with beauty and goodness
Up there we can only shine
Down here we can love, care and celebrate


Deep down
We are all the same
In essence we are all good
Even the seemingly foolish & meanest of us
We have simply forgotten


Please remember

Tanya Diaz: an eavesdropper's perspective

I don't know her personally.  In fact, we've never uttered more than 5 words to each other- hi, hello, bye and om shanti.

You see, I've worked with her on several programs organized by the meditation group I am part of.  I would often help in the events and she's usually one of our guest artists.

I don't even know that she's a rocker until I watched The Voice Philippines.  Since, we teach and practice om shanti (I am a peaceful soul), we'd often ask her to sing mellow hymns and she willingly obliges.

We've dragged her to small youth cafes, mall events to peace concerts.  She never asks for anything in return and we have nothing to give her but a box of toli (sweets).  She always receives it with a huge smile and the sincerest gratitude as though she is given a huge fee.

She's really just happy to sing and she shares her talent so generously.

I applaud people like her who give without strings.  They say that there's no bigger heart than that of a volunteer.

Of late, I have watched Tanya Diaz' feature in The Voice and I feel that they are not entirely showing what she stands for.  Yes, she's doing it to honor her kuya.  It's true that her family is her stronghold but who is she as a person apart from these?  Is this path something she dreams about?  Is she singing for herself too? 

I checked out her previous performances in the show and only a picture of a tough punk comes to mind.  

Well, recently they have been showing her gentle side,too. However, the image they paint of her doesn't tug the heart.

I hope that The Voice crew weave her story and her journey more adequately.  The show after all, is not just a singing competition.  If it is, why do people need to vote? It is also a popularity contest.  For the past seasons, it's often not the one with the best vocal prowess who wins but the one with the most heartwrenching story.

I don't know Tanya Diaz personally but I've worked with her off-camera and she's not only an exceptional artist but she is a girl on fire, with a big heart to boot.

Bamboo articulates it best during his knockout rounds decision, "Yung apoy niya nakakahawa lang talaga.  Siya talaga. She's something really special. At siya yung parang mark sa akin." (Her fire is really contagious. She's the one...She's the benchmark for me.)

I hope people get to see that, too.

Unplugged

*My friends find it amusing that I enjoy camping out in a farm-   far away from the comforts of the city.

*They don't believe that wild pigs can be petted (sometimes),

that it's possible to survive at night with only the light of the 
moon, stars and the handy-dandy flashlight,

*and that people there actually carry sword around (their belts) 
like they carry cellphones.

They protest, "What about animal rights?!", when they saw me ride a carabao. They don't know it actually hauls more than       

200 kilos of produce.

*They find harvesting, 

carrying buckets of water or loads of coconuts

*or making fire for nearly an hour too tasking.

It's really fun! Of course, the facilities can always be upgraded but for now I like it as is- rough and rugged.


I'll do this more often this year! 


*Photos by Nory San Juan

How to send a gift to the pope

photo from SpecialAchievers

How does one give a gift to the pope? Apparently, it is not that simple specially when you don't have the right connections but it can be done.

Exactly, 25 hours before Pope Francis leaves Manila, Philippines, I was able to hand the gift of 10 child artists with disability to Capt. Skee Tamayo, the pilot of Shepherd One who will bring the pope back to Rome.

Here are the 5 things I learned from that experience.

1.  Keep your eye on the goal
It's surprising that the ones close to me were the same people dissuading me.  "Dear, we have a ticket to his mass. We're only  three rows away from him but I doubt if we can get near him.", explains my father who never says no to me until now.  "You're still at it? You're wasting your time in that!", says a close friend.

I gathered that my family and friends don't want to see me get tired and hurt. So to spare me the pain, they asked me stop midway.  However, it was crystal clear to me that it can be done.  I had this image in my head of Pope Francis receiving the gift- nothing else. That kept me going inspite of whatever everyone's saying.  

My two-cents worth: People will dissuade you.  Move forward anyway.  They do not know what you see.

2.  Do whatever it takes     
After 6 hours of waiting in line, I said I will not do it again.  Come next day, I was running to see Pope Francis again and I never stopped looking for all sorts of ways to hand him the gift until I got it done.

I think that making the seemingly impossible possible is like hammering a metal.  At first, you will not even create a mark.  However, if you keep on pounding the same spot over and over again, you will create a dent.

My two-cents worth: If you want to make things happen, keep on hammering!

3.  Keep the faith
Two days before the pope leaves, I still have no clue how to get the gift to him.  However, the pure desire to get it done is very strong.  I believe it is possible and that strong belief attracted allies.

The article asking for help to have the gift sent to the pope was published an hour after it was submitted.  A stranger was moved by the story and contacted Capt. Skee Tamayo, the pilot of Sheperd One who will fly Pope Francis to Rome.  

My two-cents worth: If you believe with all your heart.  Doors will open.

4.  Storm the heavens
They say "take a step of courage and God will give a thousand-fold help".  After all has been said and done, there's nothing else to do but wait.  The waiting time though can make the heart falter of even the fearless.  To anchor me, I kept on holding on to The One who inspired me to do it.

My two-cents worth:  Pray and meditate.  It works!

5. Never, never, never, never, never, never, never give up
Did i say never give up?

My two-cents worth: Never give-up.

Pope Francis in his mass in Luneta said, “We forget to remain, at heart, children of God.”  

That for me translates to, sometimes forgetting that I am powerful enough to make the seemingly impossible possible.  If I am a child of the Almighty Authority Father then I am heir to his might and authority as well.  As long I remember who I am, anything is possible!    

A gift for the pope of children

How do you give a pope a gift from children? Apparently it's not that simple.

HOPEFUL. The author (with the gift) camps out 

by the island of Quirino Avenue while waiting for Pope Francis' arrival.

"If you think you've done everything you could, then do something more," my colleague shared over lunch.

That's the advice her hopeless romantic friend told her. And it's exactly what I need to hear.

You see, I have this inspiration to send Pope Francis the calendar which features the works of 10 child artists with disability. It's the perfect gift to the people's pope who loves children and who lives and breathes his teaching of mercy and compassion.

I tried to look for contacts who would have access to him during his 5 day visit to the Philippines. There were a few but all of them were convinced that it is impossible to go near him; more so, present him a gift. So, on the day of his arrival, when my friends coaxed me to wait for his motorcade I eagerly obliged; not knowing that the waiting time will take forever (6 hours to be exact). I enjoyed the experience of being one with the whole nation in prayer and excitement but I didn't get to hand him his gift in the 10 seconds that he passed by my line of vision. I found the perfect spot behind the policemen's line along the stretch of Quirino Avenue. If he went down his pope mobile, I could have easily handed the gift to him. Also, my friend made it a point to befriend all the policemen near us so there would be a high probability that they'll allow me to give the item without any commotion. But then, he didn't come down.

On Day 2, I got word that someone was able to hand him a gift at the papal nunciature where he was staying. So, my colleagues and I trooped there. We braved the empty streets and walked miles and miles on end to be able to pass by the back of his residence. Apparently, they decided to barricade the entrance of his home for security purposes. I had my 3 seconds view of Pope Francis and a wave this time around but again I wasn't able to give him the gift.

Then on Day 3, my colleagues, friends and family were all telling me to drop it. But, I am not one who easily gives up. Instead, I sent copies of the calendars to Cardinal Tagle and the bishops involved in the papal visit. I tweeted, sent inquiries online, posted an open letter on Facebook, and wrote messages to the organizations involved via Instagram, but still no word. 

Finally, Day 4, I think I have done everything I could except have this article published. If you're reading this, I hope you share it so this plea gets to Pope Francis and his entourage before he leaves on Monday. I do not intend to present the gift to him face to face. In behalf of the children who will never ever bug anyone to acknowledge them or their works, I pray that I can simply get an address or a contact person so we can send Pope Francis our love and our very special calendar. This, my friends, is my 'something more'.

The author hands the gift to Captain Skee Tamayo, the PAL head pilot who flew 

Shepherd One from Manila to Rome. Tamayo had already confirmed that the gifts
have been given to Pope's closest aide, Dr. Gasbari.

This article was first published in rappler.com.

It's not mine

painting from SpecialAchievers

I promised myself that I will never be a mother- at least in this lifetime.  I broke it. 

Two years ago, I gave birth to an idea (with 3 other colleagues and a 65 year old consultant).  Just like any mother will tell you, carrying the concept around for months is not convenient at all. Then the process of bringing it out to the world is painstaking.  The months that follow is even more difficult- it requires so much attention that I missed out on my oh-so-precious sleep and me-time.  It is so demanding that there were moments when I wish it was never born.  However, it was too late to sack it.  

Moreover, I do not have the strength to crush it.  It is too beautiful to behold.  I am head over heels over with it like a hopeless romantic.  I don't like it though that it makes heart go up and down like a rollercoaster.  If it's doing well, then I am happy.  When uncertainty creeps in, I shake in fear. And, when things get tough, my heart falters.

For awhile, it became an extension of me.  For a time, my life hanged on its thread and there were moments when I value it more than myself.

I guess, this is what my Teacher calls attachment.  He always say "remove your heart from this old world because it will only give you sorrow".

Now, I understand.  Anything which I label mine can pull me up, down or around.  I thought it makes me bigger and better but it only makes me a slave just like a dog tied to a rope.

Now, I know.  I will let it live but I will not write my name on it.  It is Yours now.  I don't want anything from it.  I will hold it only for as long as You want me to oversee things.  I can let it go in a blink of an eye.  It is Yours.  So, You will have to carry its basket of burdens. I am simply a caretaker.  I am not responsible, You are.

Now, I can sleep. 

And so this is Christmas

The click of the keyboard made me nostalgic.

It's been a long while since I visited this place.  I have a good reason though---FOCUS. 

Since early November until December 23, I've been putting all my energy on the calendar's release- a project of  Special Achievers, the non-profit organization my colleagues and I started.  So when I'm not working (in the clinic cause the NGO's my hobby) or healing my old but still useful body (which cannot function without it's 10 hours of daily sleep. btw, i'm not complaining, just stating a fact), I'm coordinating with the sponsor, meeting with the graphic designer, e-mailing the editor, talking to the artists' parents, answering interviews, etcetera, etcetera.  Yes- it's a lot but I enjoy every bit of it.

For a long while, you see, I cannot find my place in the sun.  I have this humongous heart that wants to give but I do not know what to do with it.  

So, like a headless chicken I was running around looking for that one thing I was meant to do.  Fortunately, I got into meditation which calmed me down.  

Then, I realized I want to be a monk.  I would really be very happy and content if all I do in this lifetime is open the door of the retreat center.   But, the Director had other plans for me- at least for now.  Hence, the NGO came into being.  

Why am I telling you all this?  I really don't intend to.  Just thinking out loud and writing it all down to help me process things.  You see, this is something I have let go of.  Now, it's handed back to me.  I guess, this is my gift this Christmas.

Dear God, I am not sure I can take on this big responsibility but how can I not accept what you want me to do?

Miggy, one of the 10 special artists featured in the calendar poses with his artworks
photo from Special Achievers

          

Ode to my 60 year old friend

I don't know why we click

Is it because you're really a child trapped in an old body?

You enjoy hip-hop classes

Even when the tempo's too fast for you

You dance in your own beat anyway!

Or because you allow me to be the grown-up sometimes?

You don't mind at all if I correct you

"You have to be quiet before meditation class"

"Touch down is for airplanes not for smartphones"

"There's an s after Starbuck or Rustan"

Is it because you enjoy exploring as much as I do?

You'll try out qigong even if you think it's boring

Coax me to go boxing instead 

Head to the pool even if you can't swim

Even go to a remote forest to farm

Probably, it's because you let me be

Though you believe (with all your heart) 
That I don't have the makings of a master chef
You teach me anyway 
Even when I sleep in the middle of a baking session 

We're as different as day and night

For one, I'm young and you're super old ( kidding :) )

I am pensive, you like talking

I am carefree to a fault

You are accurate to the dot 

I still cannot pinpoint exactly what it is 

But, I am very grateful for the friendship

Even when you call me a pest at times 

And I retaliate with the loudest, "I don't like!"

We somehow get along

I am glad you're my friend, Sister Norie!

I'm back!

I just came from the boondocks.  I learned that I can survive without internet connection for a whole week- and no tv, movie or online games to boot!

A shout out to all netizens, "Hey, you will not die if you log-out!"  

In fact in was very refreshing.

Tuning out from all the outside noise allowed me to commune with myself, nature and the Divine.  I would like to rattle on but pictures speak louder than words.  So, allow me to give you a glimpse of my life in the farm.

This is the river I cross daily to get to work.

In a week, I together with 3 other farmers were able to plant

 174 narra, 50 marang and 50 cacao trees.

We also started a vegetable garden.

Honestly, all I wanted to do is sleep and let the others do the work.

But my father says, they will follow my lead.  So, I got my hands dirty.    

It was worth it!  Nature rewarded me with its bounty every single day.

I also had time for rest and relaxation with friends.

I now know where I'll head off next vacation.

**Pictures courtesy of Nory San Juan

Ooops I did it again

cartoon from one.brahmakumaris.org

I mean I was able to blog daily for a whole week again.  Hooray for me!

Truth be told, I don't feel that I'm the one doing it.  I feel that I'm only the typist.  The title or the first sentence will come to me out of nowhere.  Then when I sit down and type, the next words will just flow as natural as water gushing from an opened faucet.

Most of the time, I don't know where it will bring me.  Even if I have a draft in my head, it winds down to a different path.  I, myself am amazed at the finished article.

I guess, this is what it feels to be inspired.

Paolo Coelho said in his book 'The Zahir' that when the writer's in the zone, a stream of ideas and words effuses that he could not stop typing for hours, even days.  I heard even Stephenie Meyer of 'Twilight' articulated that she just had to write the story in her head.

I'm far from these two famous writers.  I am just in awe that I'm actually experiencing the same thing.

Yesterday, I was reading through some of the older posts and I honestly didn't feel that I wrote it.  Though the interviews and experiences were very real to me, I could not claim ownership to how the story unfolded.

I have to confess that I am beginning to fall in love with being a typist.

I'll be going on a break for one whole week a day after tomorrow though.  I am most willing to continue this love affair but I'm not sure if my internet connection will work where I am going.

It's been a beautiful continuous two week run.  I will definitely keep on writing wherever I am.


P.S.  If there's anyone reading this blog, thank you for spending time with the ideas and stories here.  I hope it helps you and I would really love to hear from you.  Will keep you posted as soon as I can.