Hanging by a Moment

What is love? What is it like?

I have never been in love but recently,  I read a Regency romance novel featuring a frumpy heroine who decided to do certain things because she, it appears, has lived a safe existence for so very long.

With the ton considering her as very definitely on the shelf, and with her very own quiet acceptance (by wearing her lace cap and sitting on the spinster's seat as the veritable wallflower), our heroine seems to have snapped out of her trance-like life when her younger sister, considered as the toast of the season, was about to marry a duke.

She made out a list of things she would do. Things that gentlemen do but ladies don't do. Her list included: kissing someone - passionately, gambling in a gentlemen's club, fencing, watching a duel, shooting a pistol, and for once, feel beautiful.

I am planning my own list to...several lists actually. Lists that don't include finishing my Master's Degree in five years, reading Shakespeare's complete works within three years, writing a young adult fantasy novel, working from morning til' night, earning a promotion and all those professionally cool things I have been hankering about.

I want to do something personal. Something different for once. Something for myself. I have no idea what those things are yet but with me falling hopelessly "in-like" with a self-professing Christian football hottie and claiming him, I think that's saying I am really going around the bend.

I need to catch up with real life...

The Freedom Writers' Touch

I have just finished watching the Freedom Writers last night and it has made a radical and definite impact upon me.

What the teacher of Room 203 has done is unparalleled. We, teachers, keep seeing our job as something to do to earn that salary we need to support the life we live. We keep everything clean, organized and within their little compartments.

I admire those teachers who have the guts and the courage to challenge the system. To make it face its own inadequacy in catering to the real needs of people.

Filipino students are not like the students of Room 203. Nope. Our students are still nice and good and neat and decent and well-behaved. Those who have issues never make it into the schoolroom. At the most, they would spend a month or two in school and drop out of the system to return again next year and the next and the next.

And what do we feel once they leave our classrooms? Well, sometimes, it’s good if we discover they are gone. Then, we go sympathetic and sorry or sometimes self righteous and angry – but after talking about it with a colleague or two, we conveniently forget them.

Watching Freedom Writers has reinforced my belief that every learner counts and every learner matters. The system wants mass education for the masses, not really taking into account that each individual is special and unique. In college, our professors kept hammering and yammering on about individual differences. But, once you leave college, the system makes sure you get the chance to take not of individual differences during trainings and seminars – which is not often.

I am glad there is a teacher like  Ms. Gruwell showed that teachers can truly make a difference.

That movie also convinced me that for a teacher to really focus all her energies in teaching, she must not have a family. Gruwell’s husband divorced her because he wanted to live a life he does not feel bad about…that he cannot be a wife to her…Funny. Husbands expect wives to do that. Why can’t they give wives the same courtesy. It simply means sharing in each other’s life.

I have met several successful men who do that. When their wives have to go on trips, activities and all those things, the husbands come and show their support.

But then, it will only happen if you are quite lucky to have a husband who shares the same sentiments and beliefs you have.

What the teacher did was cool. What she did was show us that if we care, we can make a difference. Do we? Care, that is.

Daring to Dream

Six months ago, I stumbled upon a big dream. Yes, stumbled was the word because I have never envisioned that I would pursue such a dream.

My mother has trained me to become a very competitive person. I grew up constantly twirling on my toes in trying to fulfill her expectations- and she expected a lot from me.

When I was a kid, she wanted me to become a doctor. So I wanted to become one too. Then, I harbored dreams of becoming a singer. She helped me work out through the turmoil of such an ambition. Then, I discovered my love for writing. She also helped me through it and expected me to win first place in competitions (which I failed to satisfy). Then, came something we never agreed about: my reading obsession. I have always been a reader and my mother thinks that is a lazy man's pastime. She wanted me to go out and garden with her which I never really took a liking to.

But we're digressing here. Suffice it to say that my Nanay wanted me to become really successful in life. She wanted me to be the person she wanted to become before.

However, I entertained different dreams of my own. I wanted to become a romance novelist. I wanted to live in an isolated cottage on top of a mountain overlooking the sea. I wanted to live in total isolation with a dog, a fish in a bowl, an internet connection, a laptop computer and a lot of books (and can I have a fireplace please, plus snow on Christmas?).

Then, I started working as a teacher in a public school. I had dreams of becoming the strict, spinster English teacher who has a passion for her chosen profession. I wanted a car and a peaceful life with my students in a perfectly weird classroom in the morning and a quiet and peaceful home (alone of course) at night.

Now, I have the laptop, the teaching job, but not the peace and quiet (not with a bunch of sibling squabbling around the house).

However, a certain discontent came upon me. I did not know what it was. I had a meaningful job and I was getting paid doing it. I am an Alternative Learning System Mobile Teacher who teaches out-of-school youth, adults and nonliterates. I am making a difference in someone else's life. What could be wrong with me?

I saw and grabbed that very ambitious dream which I promptly let go when I joined the CFC-Singles for Christ last summer.

I thought Christ did not want me to be too ambitious....I mean, all those verses on humility and meekness. But, it was during those dream-filled days that I realized I had a purpose, a goal.

So what was wrong? 

I mistook being a Christian to being a doormat.

And I was wrong. 

Two weeks ago, I dusted out the dream I shelved and look at it at a Christians point-of-view. If I work on this dream with the sole selfish purpose of a twisted sense of self-aggrandizement, then it is nothing but a worldly dream.

But, if I reach for this dream with a Christian humble and meek spirit, it is a tool for something more: a selfless work for God's greater glory. 

The dream is a difficult one and requires so much work and effort. It needs a lot of self-control. It requires a lot of study in repose. It requires me to work and deal with people. I can no longer have the selfish isolation of a novelists cozy cottage. I can no longer have the quiet life of a spinster's solitary home. What I have is the demands of public service to the extreme. It will require me to do something I am not really good at - working with people.

But I like the purpose of the dream. I have that dream now. 

I dared to dream....and I stopped existing...I started living.

New Thoughts

I was under the impression that once you follow your schedule for the day, you would be able to claim, at the end pf the day, that you have done something.

23 days ago, I decided to do a personal experiment. I started a schedule of sorts that I have to follow for the whole day.In that schedule, my day begins at 3:00 AM. 30 minutes of the first part of the day would be spent on reflection and all that meditation hoopla. At 7:00 AM, my work day would begin and would end at exactly 11:00 AM. Lunch was expected to go on until 12:30. After that, my workday would continue until 5:00 PM. The period between 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM is for house chores and dinner and the kids (I have no kids, just a lot of younger brothers and sisters). 7:00 PM to 8:00 PM is for my so-called scholarly pursuits. 8:30 to 9:00 is set aside for reflections and prayer before bedtime, which is 9:00 PM.

I planned to follow this routine for two months. I heard that it takes a month or two to change old habits. I was a creature of ungoverned habits before. I do things when I feel like doing them. I don't do them when I forget them. And it is just so easy to forget a lot of things when you are preoccupied with too many thoughts and ideas at a time. Thank God I have ALS to pour most of my restless energy in.

Anyway, after 23 days, I realized and learned that I can only do four serious projects for a day. My creative juices will only allow me a maximum of one project per two hours and a break of an hour or thirty minutes. By project, I mean outputs like sessions guides, session materials, reports, and proposals and all that.

Without physical exertion, my mental brakes would start clamoring. My mind would start demanding for a meaningful pause in its struggle for the perfection.

Now, I no longer cling to that silly schedule. I decided to start living my life. (That was after watching 3 idiots.

Rancho said: Follow excellence and success will chase you. In everything I do nowadays, I only think about doing my best in whatever it is that I have to do.

I do not concern myself on perfection anymore. Perfection was the cause of my tendency to put off doing something.

Without that constant fear for imperfection and rejection, I started living. Every time I feel that I have erred, I just tell myself....All is well.

No, it does not solve my problem. But it gives me courage to face it.

Possibilities

I dont want to close my mind on all possibilities.

This coming election is taking most of my attention. This is our chance to make it known that we, as Filipinos, can make a difference...with our votes...

Sometimes, we ask ourselves, are we doing enough? Or is there really hope for our country? And if there is, where does that hope lie?

Realization of such matters came upon me as we worked on the annual report of the Division for ALS.

We were compiling all the data we had about all the programs that the ALternative Learning System in the Division has come up with for Calendar Year 2009.

I was surprised with the realization that all these data came from the lower level, the individual, from the field...

Whatever happens up there (and up there is but a compilation of numbers) down here is where the action happens.

Now, if you want to make a difference, work down here...and if you want to make a bigger difference...just move up there...but slowly...showing all the people that you made your way from the bottom to the top with careful precision, with love, with concern...with genuine dedication...

Poor deluded politicians...they will not make much of a difference after all. It is all up to us, and I am glad I made the choice of moving where the action is...

I want to make a difference in a few lives at most, in one community at best and in our city at my most optimistic mode...

If you really want to fight the real battle, be a soldier...hold your arms...and fight. We have countless battles to fight, and together, we can win the war...

Twilight, The Book this Time

Don’t judge a book by its movie. I know I heard that tagline somewhere, still, I had not expected it to be so true about Twilight.

I don’t go to movies and neither do I buy really expensive books. I go to bargain stores and just buy books I could enjoy without getting worried about the price or its significance to the human system of beliefs. I have enough of that in my weekly literature classes anyway.

But, I always wanted to own a Twilight book. I just never got the chance. The last time I went to National Bookstore with a months pay in my wallet, I was not able to find a single copy of any of the series.

I kept on hunting NBS. I prowled for an Anne rice book, the one which signified her sudden change of faith. I left NBS disappointed so I binged on my usual bargain hunt and bought a load of pulp novels.

Recently, one student debater in our club brought her Twilight book which she said was actually the last copy on the shelf when she chanced on it at National Bookstore. She said she’ll rent it out to pay for her Debating Club shirt.

I asked her how much she’d rent it out. She said P50.00. We had a deal, and I took home her book a week after and spent my Independence day and weekend reading it.

I loved the wickedly flirtatious and sensual Edward in this book. He was so different from the Edward that Pattinson projected in the movie. The only character that actually fitted my expectation was the pixie-like Alice.

And Bella in the movie is quite confusing and more obstinate than the book Bella. Well, she’s no damsel in distress, just a silly, physically uncoordinated teener wrapped around the spell of a magnificently dazzling vampire.

Meyer’s explanations about certain vampiric myth are now believable. It made me realize that to a writer, everything is damnably possible. I mean, no one holds any monopoly about vampire lores. And she went really simple with her explanations which removed the conflict of a hero that could be destroyed. (However, I am not sure if literary critics approved of that, anyway, who cares about the stuffed shirts.

The sentence structures stumped me though. The book started in a bumpy manner, what with Meyers really strange staccato syntactical patters. Her disjointed and unrelated paragraphing sort of confused me at first.

But, somewhere along the way, things went on smoothly. I am just not sure if she got good with her narratives or I got used to her style…desensitized so to speak.

Nothing can really compare with the complexity of plot and the smoothness of style as well as the sophistication and intricacy of characterization of a J.K. Rowling book though.

But, I adore Meyer’s sentimentalism and really passionately emotional tone. The feeling the book creates on a reader is quite daunting to imagine. The book grips you and plays with your emotionality and internal passions, not the logical and highly intellectual aspect of a reader.

It was a good read. I loved Edward and Bella and I adore the almost tingly feeling it gives me everytime the stupid lamb and the sad, masochistic lion comes in contact.

Oh well, it can be a good mindless entertainment for a night of pure emotionalism. And Pattinson can work on those wicked grins and intense stares so that he can really “dazzle” on screen.

But, I guess he had the intense- Edward part correct when he asked Bella “What exactly did you see?” as he challenged her about what she claimed to be his sudden appearance to save her from Tyler’s car. He was unforgettable in that.

And the wickedly playful vampire came out to play when he jumped on Bella’s truck and invited her to meet his family. He was also there when he made all those facial contortions as he introduced Bella to his family.

The sensual vampire was not in that kiss. Pattinson looked too pained there, but the grimace did not convey the longing. It makes one think that he has eaten something really bitter. His stares look more menacing than sensuous.

The sensual vampire was there in the end, at the prom, when they were dancing. At least, he came out. Pattinson had to smolder with sensuality and do away with too much grimacing.

On The Wedding Dance

The Wedding Dance is a short story written by Republic Cultural Heritage Awardee Amador T. Daguio.

It asks: Which is important- the survival of a society or the happiness of the individual.

This story has made me feel bad. I am a pulp romance novel nut that is why I try to avoid stories that actually reflect life.

I was unable to escape this one though. I had a feeling it would hurt but sometimes, we do tend to have our sadomasochistic moments.

This story featured two couples, Awiyao and Lumnay, who loved each other so much. Unfortunately, Lumnay was unable to give Awiyao a child that would carry on his name in their tribed. Despite his love, he had to set aside his wife to find a woman who can give him a son.

The story starts with Awiyao looking for his wife who had hidden herself in their home. The tribe was supposed to be celebrating the wedding of Awiyao to this other woman and Awiyao wanted Lumnay to be at the dance to prove that everything was alright with her.

Lumnay could not go. I mean, how can a man ever ask a woman who loved him so much to watch his wedding feast with another woman?

Awiyao explains his side. Which was really silly and did not really make sense to me (hey, I am a modern woman and I think those kind of things suck). He told Lumnay how much he loved her and how he appreciated her. He said that it was not his fault and that Lumnay should not blame him (Hello? Who can force you to do things you don’t want to do?)

His reason: “It is only that a man must have a child. Seven harvests is just too long to wait. Yes, we have waited too long. We should have another chance before it is too late for both of us.”

Right!

Another stupid line: “I do this for the sake of the tribe.” Bah!

Lumnay accepted what he said. (I would never have been as kind and understanding. I would have demanded for a settlement. I mean, I wasted seven harvest, whatever is its equivalent, for the jerk. We are both in that ugly situation and he would just leave me like that?)

When Awiyao offered the house and the fields, she refused because she said she would not want to have anything to do with them anyway.

All she asked for were the beads Awiyao gave her when he asked for her hand in marriage.

So now, Lumnay had to go back to parents and Awiyao would build a life with his new wife.

He did say that if it was not a fruitful union, he would leave his wife and die with Lumnay. I hoped he never bore a child.

I guess Lumnay consoled herself with the expensive beads which, for her, was the sign of Awiyao’s love for her.

Pipz. Just read the story. It was pretty amazing. And yes, I felt frustrated for Lumnay and sad for Awiyao.

He accepted his tribes idea that to become a man, one must have offsrpings. Did he not know that to be called a man, you must be strong enough to stand and fight for your principles and your loved ones? Even if the one you really have to fight is yourself?

Adel, read it if you haven't yet.

Borrowed Wisdom 1

I have nothing to say today. Instead, let me share some wisdom I was able to file from previous readings I did and movies I have watched. “Be Niggards of Advice on no Pretence; For the worst Avarice is that of Sense: With mean Complacence ne'er betray your Trust, Nor be so Civil as to prove Unjust; Fear not the Anger of the Wise to raise; Those best can bear Reproof, who merit Praise.” - An Essay on Criticism (Alexander Pope) You wanna see a miracle, son? BE THE MIRACLE. - Bruce Almighty Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes. -Bruce Almighty Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great ones make you feel that you, too, can become great. - Mark Twain I can choose either to be a victim of the world or an adventurer in search of treasure. It’s all a question of how I view my life. - Eleven Minutes (Paulo Coelho) Why do you always asks questions for which you already know the answer? - X-Men Parents shouldn’t leave their kids…unless they have to. -Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Why don’t we hunt humans anymore? It’s too easy. - Donna Boyd (The Passion) In wilderness is the survival of the soul. -Donna Boyd (The Passion) In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.Prudence is a rich ugly old maid courted by Incapacity.He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence.The cut worm forgives the plow.Dip him in the river who loves water. -The Proverbs of Hell ( from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell by William Blake)