A quiet summer day
Sun kissed street fit for play
My heart beats astray
#Haiku 1
never stop exploring your SELF
A quiet summer day
Sun kissed street fit for play
My heart beats astray
#Haiku 1
The very first thing I do when I wake up is to reach for my iPhone and scan my emails.
This may sound pathetic to some of you but I have really come to embrace and accept that I like doing this. It’s that first 15 minutes of my waking moment that I am the most lucid and fresh. And if I wake up early with 30 minutes extra under my belt, then it is in those first 30 mins of my day that I also do some of my “better” writing. I write after i read my emails. I get inspiration after I read, you see.
So yes I scan what IOS calls “All Inboxes”. What do I look for? I am on the look out for new posts from my favourite bloggers. Over the past 6 months, I followed a few more random strangers in addition to my all time favourite blogger Sarah Wilson.
This morning, Brian Gardner, the geeky guy who owns StudioPress and who designs themes for websites (of which my very own myGlorybox uses), wrote a rare note. He promised to write more often. Yes, this web designer likes writing too. There are a lot of unpublished people out there who are expressing themselves and sharing their writing to the whole wide webbed world. The internet has really given people like us freedom and wings and audience. Most importantly, a reading audience.
Writings are meant to be read. I do espouse that we must write like no one is reading, this means to write unguardedly. However, I believe that it should be a two way highway. We are like children. We are “driven by the attention we receive”, Brian Gardner writes.
I like that you are reading this, and reached this point of my post. I like that you “LIKE” me a lot, and that you time and time again, click on my latest notification that “Hey I have created something new again today. Please read me.”
I have said that for the past 200+ days. Heck, I’ve been asking you to read me since 2009, when I started blogging. Writing opens me up, breaks me apart, and breaks me down. My writing gives you a window, no…it’s way bigger than that… a door into my very soul. I am vulnerable and I am naked. {Oops I lie. I am only a quarter naked with you. This be the truth.} And because you do not cringe nor stay away from me, but you actually keep coming back for more… this tells me that I have your acceptance. I think you have gone past curiosity and amusement of my blurtings…You and I, we have an ongoing romance yet you do not know it. But I do. We have a romance. See, writing multiplies my emotions a hundred-fold! I even find your attention romantic!
Have I Thanked You enough for reading me? For taking 5 minutes of your precious life to read yet again another mGB brain fart or inanity or, if it is a good day, a sharing that actually moves or inspires you? Without you, my writing will not see the light of day. It will languish in the silence and loneliness of the Evernote App notebooks.
You mean the world to me. In my writing world and in my personal world. I actually don’t know all of you. I would have wanted, really really wanted, to thank each one of you. But the FB “Likes” I get in WordPress do not show your name.
I encourage you to leave me a note or your name and a short HI at the bottom of this post. So i can thank you personally for following me.
I know some of you. Because you leave footprints or crumb prints behind. Crumbs that I greedily devour! Little notes which I liken to treasures. My little gold nuggets.
I salute you for keeping me company.
I appreciate your time and attention.
With all my heart, I THANK YOU.
PS. One of these days, you will find, I will offend you with what I have written. When that day comes, I hope our bond is strong enough for you to overcome your annoyance. Be offended, then let’s move on. We’re free spirits, you and I. And of course there are crappy writings, of which you have seen plenty. And yet you still read, I am grateful!
Why can’t I seem to end this post???
THE END {na nga}!
I leave you with Ms. Morissette…a most beautiful THANK YOU song!
Thank you India, thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty, thank you consequence
Thank you, thank you, silence
Written: The 7th Nov, 2013
Let’s talk about my Migo who went camping overnight today at the Warrah School grounds. 6 kids will be sleeping in a couple of tents plus two teachers to supervise. I was aghast at the timing at first because it had been rather cold the past few days despite being summer. So I worried, as mums do. Then last night I checked the weather and saw that Thursday and Friday will be warm. Terrific. Still, I packed winter stuff in Migo’s luggage. He has thick woolen sleeping socks and a beanie to warm his head. Oh I hope he remembers all that I packed. Last night, I showed him everything ~ what’s packed and where and how. Everything is labelled and stored in large zipbags.
I remember two years ago when Migo had his very first night away from home. I actually prepared him by camping at our backyard one night. With all the first world comfort of course. An air mattress, sleeping bags, pillows, and first class toilets (of home). Then he went away to camp and I remember how terribly I missed and worried. I need not have fretted, he had a blast from all the pictures the school sent.
Last year, the school organised another overnight camp. I declined this time. You see, there was a change of venue. It was going to be at a teacher’s home in the Blue Mountains. I had no problem with the school’s teachers per se. But I had no control nor visibility of who else lived in that home. The school did not send any clearance note or anything to allay my fears. I was scared for Migo’s safety. Hence, I declined. Migo’s teacher inquired “Why?” They wanted to know if there were issues that they can help resolve. I did not respond. I simply did not know how to put my fears into written words. That camp was successful and incident-free.
This year, the school decided to do it at the school grounds again. I breathed a sigh of relief. Migo can go. I truly want him to experience LIFE. To be away from us; to make his own decisions; to leave his comfort zone. I want him to experience all the uncertainties and the spontaneity and the surprises and the discomfort and the dis-ease of living outside the house. When we travel, us, his parents have his comfort as top priority. So parang nasa bahay pa rin siya… Without mum and dad in the picture, camping is like throwing a spanner into Migo’s daily routine! And then there’s no Gabo to copy too!
This morning, the camp day, I wrote a note to his teacher. I was missing Migo already. To be sure, I am no longer gripped with concern as I was two years ago. I am pining, more than anything. More “will he be OK without his aloe vera juice and his 8.30 stories with Papa and his nightly Big Bang Theory reruns with Papa.”
At 7.30pm, Ariel muttered to me, “Wala ang TV-mate ko…” quite wistfully. (I don’t have my TV-mate.)
2013 Book #7: Bird By Bird – Gift It / Shelf It.
I have to thank my writing buddy @chiquipineda for recommending Anne Lamott’s Bird By Bird, the second must-read book about “writing”. The first being Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down The Bones.
This book is very rich with lessons for those who love writing, be it in a journal or a blog or letters to loved ones. One does not need to be an aspiring writer to appreciate this book. After all, the subtitle reads ~ Some Instructions on Writing and Life.
Anne Lamott is warm and funny and generous in her life shares.
Passages that rocked me ~
“You are going to have to give and give and give, or there’s no reason for you to be writing. You have to give from the deepest part of yourself, and you are going to have to go on giving, and the giving is going to be its own reward.”
“Here’s one reason to write. Your child and your work hold you hostage, suck you dry, ruin your sleep, mess with your head, treat you like dirt, and then discover they’ve given you that old nugget you were looking for all along.”
“Try to write in a direct emotional way, instead of being subtle or oblique. Don’t be afraid of your material or your past. Be afraid of wasting any more time obsessing about how you look and how people see you. Be afraid of not getting your writing done.“
Some of us are hard pressed to donate our hard earned cash to charity. Some. There are mortgages to be paid, after all. Most of us are happy to give up tens or even hundreds of dollars for the benefit of our beloved kababayans. Some of us already “give” on a monthly basis {think World Vision child sponsorship}. And still, we want to give some more!
If you don’t have time to read this full story, scroll down to Here’s how ~
I was eating breakfast this morning, conjuring up creative thoughts of various ways to contribute. I didn’t want to send material as that occupies space and has weight and I don’t really know what is required. Where do I find spare cash? I thought of giving up my daily coffee. To be honest, I don’t really want to give up something that is a source of small joy. I don’t want to deprive myself, I am selfish like that. And yet there must be other ways.
Supplement your “giving” by converting your loyalty points into cash!
Last weekend, I sat in my study finding out how many points I have accumulated in my various rewards/loyalty programs (hotels/airlines/credit cards etc). I was planning a summer holiday. My Holiday Inn account has accumulated 19,000 points. It’s not enough to cover a one night stay at Holiday Inn Melbourne. But I noted that it is enough to redeem a $100 gift card from my local supermarket. I moved on to the next card, telling myself I need to accumulate more. But this morning it hit me!
Here’s how to convert your “forgotten” loyalty points into cash. Allow at least 30 minutes tonight.
1. Trawl your email Inboxes for statements from your rewards partners. Hotels, airlines, car rentals, credit cards, store cards etc. Take note of points that are at least 10,000.
2. Login to your various accounts.
3. Redeem points for store gift cards. Preferably ones that you can use for your groceries for that immediate “free” grocery. The cards will arrive in due time.
4. Congratulations. You’ve just found cash! Now that you’ve saved say $100 worth of groceries, use that equivalent amount to give to #YolandaPH typhoon victims.
5. Choose a reputable international charity with local presence in the Philippines with targeted relief efforts.
Red Cross or Red Cross Australia
World Vision or World Vision Australia
Plan International or Plan Australia
Gawad Kalinga
Important Note:
Don’t forget to print and file your tax-deductible receipt. Get something back in return from the taxman. Come to think of it, you can even give more, if you know what I mean. It’s a win-win for all!
No sweat really. Just stop browsing Facebook for half an hour. Finding $100x gift cards is more than a month’s worth of $3 coffees!
PS. Maybe you have some money parked in your Paypal/eBay/what-have-you accounts. Now’s the time to cash in! And give!
PPS. Your workplace may also be setting up some targeted giving where your employer may match your donation, dollar for dollar. That is also a great way of doubling up your hard-earned cash!
2013 Book #6: The Catcher In the Rye – Shelf it.
What is it about the classics that they start of as boring. Heck, the whole first three quarters of The Catcher In The Rye bored me out of my skull. I keep putting it down and reading something else. Such was the case with To Kill A Mockingbird which took me 9 months to finish. My writing buddy even called it the “Dry Rye” because so dry it was. This thin book took me six months to read!
But you know what? I never gave up on it. Why? Because I was curious and I persisted. And it just took me decades to finally buy this book. By the way, this book was a giftcard gift by a friend for my two boys. Which of course meant I had first dibs, right?
How many times have other writers quoted and referred to The Rye in their writings? Too many times if you ask me. My favourite Filipino columnist back in the 90s, Jessica Zafra, mention The Rye a number of times in her columns. Funny that, my high school teachers skipped telling us about this “coming of age” story, as it is apparent that other folk made book reports of The Rye in high school.
The main reason why this narrative will bore you out of your brain is the writing style. In my humble opinion, this book was written more for writers than for readers. It’s written in the first person. The protagonist is Holden Caulfield, a graduating high school student who keeps dropping out of schools. Every single thought that he thinks is described in the book at length. We all know that our thoughts are not exciting 24×7. That’s it. That’s why its boring. But a writer will tell you that this is the essence of writing. We all begin our lives as amateur writers by simply putting down our thoughts in paper. Every breath we take. What I had for breakfast this morning. How funny the man in the burgundy suit looks. How I need to brush my teeth right now!
Here’s a passage from the book that I enjoyed the most. Don’t give up on it…read it until the very end.
“Then I sat down on this bench. I could hardly get my breath, and I was still sweating like a bastard. I sat there, I guess, for about an hour. Finally, what I decided I’d do, I decided I’d go away. I decided I’d never go home again and I’d never go away to another school again. I decided I’d just see old Phoebe and sort of say good-by to her and all, and give her back her Christmas dough, and then I’d start hitchhiking my way out West. What I’d do, I figured, I’d go down to the Holland Tunnel and bum a ride, and then I’d bum another one, and another one, and another one, and in a few days I’d be somewhere out west where it was very pretty and sunny and where nobody’d know me and I’d get a job. I figured I could get a job at a filling station somewhere, putting gas and oil in people’s cars….I thought what I’d do was, I’d pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes. That way I wouldn’t have to have any goddam stupid useless conversations with anybody…and then I’d be through with having conversations for the rest of my life.” – page 198, The Catcher In The Rye, J.D. Salinger