Bobbet’s World

Monday September 29, 2008

Unending Ending. Thing is I’m done with the fourth–and so far the last–season of Lost! It ended with a lot of questions left unanswered. Prompting. Final scene: Ben Linus urging Jack Shepard to go back to the island again with the complete cast of the Oceanic Six. And the object of mischief: the camera finally zoomed in on John Locke lying on the coffin. What’s that for a disturbing ending? Still need to wait for early next year for the adventure to continue via Season 5. Meantime, according to my friend Pearl, I can lend my eyes to another exciting, fun thrill: Heroes. Let me see.

Harrassed Morning. You know, I’m not a morning person. But this morning was different. I woke up early, for a change. 5.15 a.m. I wanted to surprise my 7.30-a.m. class. I truly caught them by surprise. At least the few, like 10 of them, who managed to come early, unmindful of my erratic, unpredictable arrival. The rest simply came in, one by one, during moments they thought I would be arriving.

But that’s not the meat of my story. This is: On the jeepney, I don’t know whether I was simply observant or I was just whiling the time away observing every nitty-gritty of the moment, but I noticed that most of my co-passengers were either sleepy or didn’t look good probably because (1) they hadn’t taken a shower before work or school, (2) they hadn’t slept well last night, (3) they were rushing thus they forgot to fix their hair or iron out their get-up, or (4) simply they had a bad morning. I don’t know. But all of them looked harassed, still reeling from their respective weekend hangover. Maybe, I looked like them, too. We had no mirror to check on how we looked like that morning. We just let the fast jeepney ply its route, and before we knew it, we’re there, in our destination. Three of us alighted, dropped by Letran.

It was just another Monday morning. More mornings to brave for the week, and beyond. Each different, eccentric, unique, adventurous, where we’re destined to meet different folks, fresh, harassed, different, eccentric, unique, adventurous. We tend to repeat some mornings. Or recreate some. Invent new ones. But always, a voice tells me: find that reason to wake up every morning. Maybe I found mine but lost it some years ago. So, every morning, I still search for that reason, meaning, and end of the day, make sense of it all. The reason is different every morning. I must know.

Reality Check August 30, 2008

This physical pain I’ve been feeling since last weekend continues to disturb my usual pace and routine. It’s seemingly in remission now. I could only hope it’ll last long. I know it’s nothing compared to what others suffer.

This is the second time that my lower tooth jacket causes me pain. (The first one was during the Christmas season two years ago.) The gums around that area swell. It’s difficult to eat. I’m in antibiotics for almost a week. When I can no longer endure the pain, mefenamic acid comes handy. An emergency visit to my dentist last Wednesday provided temporary relief.

I wasn’t able to attend my Thursday classes at UPLB and Diliman. I missed deadlines for my editing works. My writing and other admin duties take a halt. On the side, I’d like to think that this is nature’s way of making me stop, pause, slow down. No matter what I do, this will happen. In a recent episode of Lost (season three) I’ve seen, I am told, that no matter how we guard ourselves from harsh realities, they would come regardless, because the universe has a course-correcting function. It may prevent us one time or another to get into trouble or pain, but sooner, life, our destiny, will succumb into this direction originally set for us. That’s our path. We can’t elude it despite strong attempts.

Reason enough for me to consider that no matter how much I could have tried preventing this lower tooth jacket of mine to bite hard steak or sip frosty blends, it’ll happen. It’s the universe way of telling me: be careful next time, eat slow, choose what to eat, take the pains of avoiding what you love to eat that could cause you pain (poor me). This leads me to the idea that what we love most gives us more pain. Short of saying that life is difficult, but love is more difficult.

Bottomline is sacrifice. I can hear the Canossian sisters telling me "mortify!" This is my early Lenten season. I take the trouble. If it could cleanse my spirit, better. If it could make me a better person, shoot. Let this pain be my change agent.

Time to slow down and set myself free August 23, 2008

I woke up relaxed, devoid of tension and concerns for the day. I woke up late. This is the perfect time to slow down and stay cool. It’s drizzling since early this morning. This is a study of life in contrast. In a culture of speed and deadlines, staying in the house with no particular things to do except sipping coffee, taking a nap, watching TV and DVD, reading the day’s paper, and reflecting may sound like a bit odd. For a busy guy like me, indeed it is.

This is my second blog entry for this weekend. I’m grabbing the moment. I write.

My body still aching from yesterday’s unwelcome fall, I let time move on today unharassed. Maybe, late today I can go back to my old busy self. Meantime, let me revel from the joy of waking up to the reality that I have no deadline to meet and no particular concern to think about. Just this moment.

I can read on the side things that have been there all this time, waiting for my attention. I can take a cold bath without worrying I’ll get sweaty again. It’s cool today. The drizzles will keep me cooler. I’m not so good in keeping myself less busy. But I’ll take the risk now. This is a perfect time to cool down and slown down and just be.

Tomorrow is a holiday. I have already attended the anticipated mass last night. Nothing to purchase outside to make me leave house. No meetings. No places to visit. This is my real free time. I have all the time in the world.

This is my second blog entry for this weekend. I seize the moment. I write about my life.

Aftermath August 15, 2008

I’m back. My profile picture and photo gallery are also back after a week of demise, probably caused by some technical glitch (or repair) from the site administrator’s side.

Anyway, the week went on wild, frenzied, frenetic, hectic, and restless. But I survived all the tests! If you’ll look back at my Monday-Monday to-do matrix, you’ll see red checks across plans I had duly accomplished. A nice feeling at end of this busy and turbulent week!

Good news is The Collegium is already out! The abstract cover page beckons, lures. Kudos to us writers and staff of this publication! This is long overdue. It worth all the wait.

Look at the verdant trees or the long road replete with greeneries on the side. Isn’t it nice being paved by old, green trees on your way down from a graduate class? Certainly. I had that nice perspective mid of this week that inspired me again to take snap shots of these scenes. A part of me, I guess, is aching hard to be an environmentalist, hehe, or late-bloomer nature lover.

Still basket galore in my thinking corner. The new one is courtesy of Galleria Ethnika again. The native baskets serve as my organizers or accents for my plants and other exotic, antique items in the house. They cool down my tension. They bring out nature that I must nurture even inside the silent corners of our abode. They create an effect (soothing!) that jibes with my mood at the present.

Finally, thinking cool and trying to be positive and reflective bring me to Sawyer’s (Lost!) words in the recent episode I had seen: "… In hunting for him (the real Sawyer), I became the person I was hunting."  Point is, I may be guilty of this also, as others are, in one instance or another. Lesson of the story: don’t let your aversion lead you to be the exact copy of what you abhor. Fight off imbibing the very traits you set forth to eliminate. A lot of us are guilty of this, unconsciously most of the times.

Happy weekend!

08.08.08 August 8, 2008

Today is 08 August 2008. 08.08.08. For some it may be luck. A lucky day. I read from Yahoo news that today, the opening of the China Olympics, 9,000 Chinese couples are set to be wed. Maybe, this triple-eight day sounds lucky for them. (I remember in freshman college, students labelled the chairs at Devcom 8-8-88 to mark that rare occurrence: 08 August 1988.)

But not for Mommy. She met an accident this morning that time I was still soundly sleeping on bed. She fell from a tricycle which suddenly halted. She was right at the very door of our parish church where she was set to attend a religious-group meeting. Things went quick. She was able to go home. The accident seemed to be minor. She sustained an abrasion on the left side of her head and some bruises on her left foot. But when that part of her head started to bleed, she got alarmed so she went to visit the hospital all by herself. I woke up finding that out.

The whole day transpired seeing her getting the anti-tetanus injection and rushing to Healthserv for the skull x-ray, buying her medicines, and running errand for all things needed. But things are okay now. I’ll get the official reading of the x-ray results tomorrow afternoon. She’s now taking her medication.

This is real exingency, a moment when all other things take a halt to give way to what should matter the most: the life of a loved one. Moments like this confront us to tell us upfront that anything can happen any moment, in a day, so we have to be prepared. When my biological mother died years ago, we were caught unaware and unprepared. Life did not prepare us to lose Nanay. The following year, losing Tatay, after succumbing to a multi-system failure, made us learn the art of letting go, moving on, and letting God. That may sound easy, but like the Ifugaos, the end of the harvest time completes the cycle, so does with our life and our inevitable death.

But thank God, Mommy is still alive. Virgin Mary saved her from harm. Mommy will celebrate her 68th birthday on September 16. This early, we’re preparing for that grand event. This is her new lease on life. It is a celebration of her second wind.

Solitude, Exigency, and Lost July 24, 2008

Let’s start with solitude.

I wonder what’s there in my Saturday lunch-time lull that makes me sane and re-energized. Two hours of doing anything I can’t do on a regular day. Where? At UPLB main lib. Specifically, reserved section. That I do after a quick lunch at Jollibee-Olivarez, alone, contemplative. Sort of becoming like a routine. But now, I know, that something is a moment of silence, solitude, calm, peace. A rare commodity from an academic person that I am who thrives in a workplace where noise or static is inherent in people, projects, and events. Even ordinary days seem to be so busy in the academe. Words are cheap. Talk goes beyond its therapeutic function. Short of saying, every Saturday noon I get a certain quiet that makes me come to terms with where I am now, minus the frenzy and loudness of my work life.

Randy David calls the unexpected events in our lives "exigency moments."

That apparently is the take-off point for my next item. This morning, most of us rushed up to our 8-a.m. class only to be informed that our prof would come 2 hours later. What shall I do given, again, the lull? Maybe another moment for solitude, but I went far beyond that. I spent the idle time taking my unplanned snacks of pizza and carbonara outside the main lib. I let the morning air get in. And partly, observed undergrad students killing the time away, waiting for their next class, reviewing, doing idle talks, eating snacks. It’s phenomenology! I let them construct their own realities. I did bracketing. I suspended my biases. I got carried away by my graduate readings.

Finally, the first season, episode one of Lost. (Read this Pearl, hahaha!)

Another moment of exigency, the transport strike prevented me from attending my Diliman class tonight. In lieu of that, I watched Lost, my first time. My baptism of fire! Got hooked at the onset. I put off the lights in my room, increased the volume of my TV set, and let the story crept into my exigency moment (hehehe!). I can’t wait for the next episode. (You’re so right, Pearl, it’s plain addictive.) I want to end the night watching two more episodes and immerse myself into the thrill and mystery of it all. It’s ethnomethodology! Well, stop it, I have to refrain from theorizing, at least for this one, so I’ll enjoy the series sans the critical eye.

About Sleep (Again!) and The Canossa Memory July 21, 2008

I’ve been breaking the usual cycle of my sleep lately. Last night for example, I slept immediately after dinner. That was around 8 p.m. I planned to wake up by 9.30 p.m. and work eventually. My sleep unexpectedly extended till 11.45 p.m. Gosh! I just succumbed into the lure of the silent tyrant unaware.

But that was a real detox! The newly charged energy saw me still working two hours later. First, I had to fix myself up and answer Ria’s seemingly urgent query about editing format which she had sent 6.49 p.m. that time I was recharging my drained-up cell. Then, I had to check my mail: academic concerns abound both in my grad classes and admin functions. Only to end up the midnight watching Snow White, the last in the trilogy of fairy tales we have to re-watch as part of our textual coding exercise. What a relief, save for the other half of that last children’s story, I’m now ready to do the textual analysis, the submission of which is due tomorrow. Row on.

This morning, being a leisurely one because I have no classes and admin duties to attend to, I woke up late again and on the side, watched DVD as a way of de-stressing. I had a good breakfast. (When was the last time I truly appreciated eating on the breakfast table, pressure free?) I posted messages also in response to comments or queries that had been there all this time. Nice to revisit Cielo and Anne virtually. Greeted an old friend happy birthday. Answered Carlo’s question about our former Canossa classmate he had been trying to locate long before he found me in the Net.

Carlo is an elementary classmate I remembered one time because of his love for guitar. When I searched for his name, he’s there: still into music but now a techie (which I readily saw in the sophisticated info-tech gadgets he keeps in his house with his family). Quite unusual because he recognized me despite the long years of distance and absence. He didn’t even finish elementary in Canossa. Yes, the memory may be vague, yet the pale images slowly evoke familiarity beyond the passing time. Certainly, Carlo Magay was that young boy who played his guitar and sang one recognition day which was his last year in Canossa.

Now, that speaks of metaphysical angst and the construction of memory from Canossians who are dubbed to have photographic (good quality) memories. Sr. Teresita, wherever she is now, will certainly be proud of us now, if only she can see us.

Esoteric Moment June 25, 2008

This is the first time in many years that I could probably say to myself: "Heave some sigh of relief, Bobbet. You’ve rested enough, slept early, woke up early, and faced a new day bright." I owe it to myself. Rest has become so much of a precious commodity for me the past years to the point that it became elusive, worst, an obsession. Teaching full time and attending graduate school on the side is no mean feat. It consumes my time, energy, and to some extent, my being. It burns me out, drains a great part of me. That’s why last night created a big difference. I succumbed to the silent tyrant: I slept on the sofa around 10 p.m. and finally called it a day by 11 p.m.

I missed my routine in the process. Haven’t seen Doc Ferds in "Born to be Wild." Wasn’t able to blog or ruminate on things to do next like our CR 284 paper. Forgot to upload materials for my undergrad classes. Seemingly, the world stopped there and I let the universe ran my existence. It suspendended what was "here and now." For eight hours, I forgot everything that mattered: things to do, matters of consequence, adult concerns, worries. It freed me from baggages that I thought couldn’t be left behind. It slowed me down. It made me hide from the cares of this world. Sounds like the experience — a simple, long sleep — renewed me. It did.

Now, I’m ready to work again. Nothing can bother me more. I’ve rested enough.  

The World is One Grand Construction June 14, 2008

I got excited many times this week: over new things, first-time experiences, those that proved to me that the "initial is always crucial." New graduate classes and environment where I am a student on one hand and where I am a mentor on the other hand. New undergrad students. New thinking corner. New sleeping pattern.

Changes abound both in my work environ and comfort zone. These make life exciting but uncertain. Works and deadlines collide, too. And when I’m dead tired, I stop to figure things out, introspect to force myself to believe that end of the day, I may lack sleep but not discernment, I may be drained up but still full of life to face each day refreshed and wiser.

I can only think of one word that could aptly describe how I feel now. I am happy.