Friday, January 02, 2009

detour delights

How true that unplanned trips are the most memorable and enjoyable.
Nearly two weeks in the province for the long holiday break and no experience was the most fun than the one I had with my brothers at san fabian beach today.
And nothing can give you thrill than doing something you have not planned.
I borrowed someone's pair of shorts, took off my polo shirt and pair of jeans and plunged into the water. Oh the feeling from an unexpected adventure!
I tried my swimming skills in the water but none gave me joy than just lying on my back and let the water bouy me up. I just realized that I didn't have to do anything - flip my feet or hands - to stay up. All I needed to do was float on my back, chin up. Unfolded before me was the clear blue sky with some cloud patches like smudge. It was like it was just me, the water around me and the sky above. It was like meeting God!
Oh maybe I should plan my trips less and look closely at the intimate surprises tucked at the corners, waiting to be discovered by the wide-eyed wanderer.


I know my vacation is ending when it's time to go to the manaoag shrine to hear mass.
This is true of this long holiday break. After nearly two weeks in the province, I'm getting ready to go back to the big city.
So, on the second day of the new year, I visited the manaoag church, a fitting finale to my much-needed break.
I don't know why I make it a point to make a doorstop at the church. It could be because each time I go home I become prayer-less. When it's time to leave, I become prayerful because I'll leave my loved ones again.
These times are really precious to me. I rarely find time to go home. When it is over, I become restless and anxious.
Today, going to manaoag, I was like that. After the visit, the feeling was different. I become more positive thinking.
Aha! I think that's what it is - this is my place of peace. This is where I get strength to face my tough life out there.
I'm going back to the city ready to make the daily grind again.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

to eternity

There are three ways, they say, to eternity: write a book, sire a child and plant a tree.
I haven't written a book (just contributed an essay), doesn't have a child yet, so I'm left with planting a tree.
That I did this new year's day. I planted, together with my father, fast-growing gmelina seedlings, plus some umbrella tree and narra in our backyard.
I can't remember the last time I dug the earth, but this recent experience reunited me with mother nature - it was good feeling the soil in my hands.
The planting made me realize I was doing something for forever - the trees, when they grow, will outlast me and my father.
Actually, that was not the intention. I want shades around the house because a typhoon middle of last year felled many mature, shady trees that it now becomes so hot at suntime.
My father said the gmelinas can grow a trunk in half a year, so the next time I go back home, I can expect some new leaves providing protection from the heat for us.
Anyway, if the planting will give us more than the short-term goals, it is an experience worth repeating. Nature can exceed the beneficence of human intentions anytime.