19 December 2011

.. my R. O. I. is happiness..

Return of Investment-- these are the reverberating words coming from my patient. I am a small time investor and for how many months now that my sister and I ventured in stock market, we haven't yet seen our ROI. As what our mentor said, we are not traders. We are investors..and we deal with long term goals.
As I am waiting for my patient for the CT Scan to commence, the ROI kept on ringing on my ears as if I had a salicylate overdose. 

What is my ROI in my personal life?

While some people are so overwhelmed with the rapid takeover of technology, I can say that I am still a woman of the cave,=) I confess that to this date I'm still using my old Nokia phone with Winnie the Pooh and Tigger background (at least it's colored, lol) though with all humility I can say that I can already afford to buy what I want coming from my own pocket. I had given an Apple brand item as a gift but I don't own one. Because I'm happy with the conventional way of sending and receiving messages..because I'm happy to see Pooh licking a can of honey everyday. I'm happy to read my sister's text messages of how surprised she was with the gift. I could never had felt it if I had chosen to bought it for myself alone. Investing with people and relationships over fleeting material possessions surely brings priceless happiness--beyond leaps and bounds. 

Another confession before this year ends is that I do not own my personal laptop not until  the last quarter of this year. How I made the number of posts from my Third Place? Of course, God provides!=) Blame it on my favorite peanut butter that I got this unconventional way of thinking! I bought instead a Nikon DSLR. Because I want to invests in people: capturing treasured moments, painting smiles from behind the lens, engraving a mosaic-formed memories. Surely when I am on my deathbed, I will not remember any more the specifications of Samsung SII or the iPod Touch..what will ring on my ears are the crispy laughter in business lingo called ROI, while I call happiness..

Anyone of you who intentionally or accidentally hopped on my once upon a time "hideout" might also pose the same question; what is my personal ROI? I will understand if it's hard to assess and answer this question. Once in our lives, we may be like the character of Mary and Joseph..a "night traveler"..In addition, some of us may be carrying a heavy backpack of "loads". We may feel that the sky is so dark,  and that no one even lift a finger to spare some light. Hold your ground, for no matter how dark the night is, rest assured that there are stars behind.We cannot see that light sometimes because of the overwhelming darkness in the form of problems, hurts, rejection, sickness, betrayal, defeat, lose. Keep pulling through, keep walking through. Life is full of tricks. It's only in darkness that light is better appreciated, no matter how flimsiest rays may seem. I assure you that the darkest night has the brightest day-having been once a night traveler. 

It is my fervent prayer this Christmas that you may find your ROI in the simplest things. Invest in your relationships: with your kids, your family, your special someone, with your workmates, with your friends, with the ordinary people, with your God. While Physics says that opposite signs attract while like signs repel and that Geometry claims that parallel lines will never meet, I only believe in what God says, "you are my beloved, you are my greatest ROI"..=)

Merry Christmas!



14 December 2011

..I started scribbling, and I was never the same..

From my screen to yours!
I turned on my laptop when half of the world is sleeping. The best time to make a post is when you are all left alone. Nobody to watch you as you wrinkled your eyebrow when the sentences seemed won't fit to what you want to convey. Silence is a therapeutic companion aside from a hot coffee on my favorite mug that eventually turned cold as I cannot stop my phalanges from working or else the tendency is that I will forget what I am supposed to type. This has been the usual occurrences for the past year I'm into blogging. I don't know exactly what persuaded me for I was contented with my Facebook notes. I have already anchored myself to the refuge of writing, of sketching and a bit of painting, and of reading books as being my milieu therapy being away from the context of "freedom".

Blogging understood my depths. I love my solitary moments, being away from the crowds and just enjoying my solemn minutes and hours. Maybe that could be a hypothetical reason why I created this blogsite, my Third Place. It can endure my silence while I'm pouring my heart out. It listens to my soul's chants and nuisance, absorbing them on its walls, clearing me of whatever loads I have kept on my shoulders and leaving me soothe and rejuvenated. It never rejected whatever I had to say, its patience is unrelenting. Its capacity to be there for me is unyielding. I just have to decide to write it down.

I cannot believe that as to this writing I had already made 68 posts with 2, 672 all time history page views since the birth of this blogsite from different parts of the world. The statistics doesn't count anymore. As what I said in my Facebook article, it really makes my day to have someone read my blog. Because Time is an expensive element, and by stopping over my posts is a big manifestation of sharing that expensive element. I may not know all of you but wherever you are, from the last strands of my heart muscles, thank you very much for allowing Chameleon's optimism come into your life in as short as few minutes and for letting me share with you my life's learned lessons!

I thought that by blogging, I may be able to express my emotions, I may be able to disclose myself to the world, I may be able to be better well understood. It did. But blogging made more than that. I was afraid to open up myself, but ironically, it made me known myself better. It just needed me to scribble down, and yes, I was never the same=)


TO GOD BE THE ULTIMATE GLORY!


08 December 2011

..I'm ashamed not to give love..

She hasn't gotten a college degree. She doesn't know what Facebook is. It's foreign to her what a blog is. And even if I will explain what it is and how it is made, I know she'll care less. Because everything in her existence came from a simple discipline: Self-giving.

She started caring for us way back 26 years ago. She was still at the blossom of her youth. Though it was not her womb who nurtured us, you can never teach her what motherhood is all about. You can never define to her what care and love is. More than the educated people out there, she's more intellectual. She knows what are the basics in life. She doesn't need words to say it all, her actions are enough.

When my sister and I were still in our grade years, she would attend our school meetings. She's not seated on the front seat since she's only wearing the same old set of jeans: no make-up or even glittering jewelries because her money is dedicated for our allowance. Hardly can I recall that she had bought nail polish for herself. In fact, her hands are wrinkled and overworked: washing and ironing our clothes, doing the hard stuffs for us, something unlikely for a single woman to do at her 20's when she could be having a time of her life.

Highschool years and she's still the same. Maybe not. I can see some additional graying hairs  to her already gray-streaked hair. I can even see some wrinkles around her eyes whenever she would genuinely smile over our school achievements. I just forgotten she's now on her early 30's. The endless school meetings continued, her seating habits all the same. Only her love is constant, only her care remains unrelenting. I'm wondering if she ever thought of thinking about her own happiness now that we can take care of ourselves fairly well.

She got sick around our college years. It struck me that she is not getting any younger. That sooner or later, we will have to face our own individual lives. Still, her devout in making us good people is her expertise. Whenever I would wake up to go on duty on rainy days, I could already hear clanking of utensils at the kitchen. My meals at the table, uniforms well-pressed. The umbrella is ready and she would wear her old jacket. We would trudge the dark road together under the drizzling cold morning. My fear then was that if she had reached home safe since she don't own any mobile phone. My sister and I graduated and through all those days and years, she  would still keep her Christmas gifts as an "emergency fund" for us. 
We became professionals, her hair even grayer in time. She's about on her late 30's. Still single by choice. She now owns a mobile phone, the colored-screen one. She can text faster now, and if only I can share in this blog her text messages, you can also say that we are more than adequately and abundantly blessed. 

Now that we are full grown-up individuals, I'm hurting whenever I think that she's about to face her 40's..far from us. That she had given all her life raising us, honing our character in the most genuine loving way. But we are not around for her when the drizzles start. The umbrella she's holding on rainy days seemed to be too wide for her to hold alone. No Kim or Robz  around to comfort her when nights of loneliness would creep her. The table seemed too spacious for her to eat alone. The house is too big to bumped with each other just like when we were still around making fussy noises...I miss those days. I miss her younger days.

The world is full of  intellectuals. The earth has produced skillful and high-achiever individuals. The gadgets worn out fast as everyday another one evolves. The days are fast. Everyone's pacing in their own rights and rhythms. The earth continues to revolve on its axis without anyone giving a damn. On the simple corner of the complicated world, there lies someone who don't know what iPad is, what Macbook Air looks like, what a blog is all about. But in that simple corner of the world is someone who dirtied her hands doing the hard stuffs, keeping Christmas gifts to be an "emergency fund", a graying hair and appearing laugh-lines. There lies someone who knows how to genuinely love, an expert in self-denial and delayed gratification. I could have received the highest medals in formal education and she's the deprived one, but compared to me and anyone of us, she's more intelligent. Because she doesn't live with her brain, she lives with her heart. And because of that, she's illuminating the brightest inner light. The light of SELF-LESS LOVE.

I am so ashamed to withhold love. I am so ashamed to deny others of love. How could I when all my life, I have seen and felt love.

Inspiration:  Leonor Venegas Tan 
Profile      :  Aunt of the author, single by choice
Expertise  :  Lingering Service in Self-giving





03 December 2011

..you are your own hero..

Photo credits to Fr. Norbert Alvin Canada
It's redundant for me to say that I love my night shifts duty. It's the best time for me to make bonds with my work mates..getting to know them better and listen to their stories. This blogsite, when I decided to finally join the world of blogs had encouraged me not only to share my own stories but that of the people I have encountered with. As what my mentor said, storytelling is a form of ministry. Because you never know that one story could change the world.
For that matter, I wanted to feature another set of people here in my third place. This is just one of the articles I'll be publishing as Chameleon will celebrate its first year anniversary! yipeee=)


The best time of the month for us singles is Pay Day. That's needless to elaborate. Time to give ourselves some little pampering, feeding your vanity if ever you have one. We all our own set of obligations to the people that we love. Silently as I am enjoying that "highlight" of the month, there are other people who have there own set of sacrifices. Ate Ellen, our hippy and bubbly mother-figure,  is one of them. As for the record, she hasn't been home for the last five years. Hasn't attended five birthdays of her two sons, haven't been there in their five Christmas and summers. The sick days of her Josh when she's so busy attending our sick patients or the times Aidan got high grades and mom is not around to give him a pat on the back or that cheerful mommy-hug. The countless times she wished her sons were also eating in Jollibee whenever she step foot on the food store. Whenever she would say how she missed her boys and is helpless anyway. Because the reality of life strikes hard. I cannot fathom where she is getting the strength to endure the long years of not being there as a mom; as a wife. Where she is getting the patience to wait for the sun to rise and the moon to set  to call it another day. Hoping that it would turn faster to weeks, then to months and months to years until finally she will utter the words "I'm home". 

I can relate to her children's situation  since I was once an OFW's daughter. The motherless years are indeed the painful years. But As I look back, those were the most bravest years of my life. I can relate to her situation, because it's not easy to leave people behind. And in return, I guess, that the years mothers are not with their kids are also the most hardest years of their lives. But this is life. We live between the tension of two opposites. Whatever side we have chosen, it's always for the greater good.. in the name of Sacrifice..in the name of Service..in the name of Family..in the name of Love.

This blog would like to honor all of you who are in the same situation. Be it for someone who was left behind, who left a love one, who dared to go out of their comfort zones and fearlessly facing the reality of life. To give credits to all of you who are denying what is due for yourself for the sake of your family and the people who put their trust in you. To boost your courage that the true warrior is someone who possess weaknesses in the face of becoming a better person but chooses not to dwell on them but on his strengths to become the best. I would like to commend your strengths, your determination and perseverance, your  sacrifices and endurance wherever it is coming from. 

We all have our own anticipated heroes.You might not be in sword or under an armor.  But your heart, your character, your inner light are your strongest weapons. That's enough to say that at some point in your life, you are your own anticipated hero. 

19 November 2011

..life's a train..

We come to faced many of life's crossroads. In my life's hilarious journey, I was once in a dilemma to take one road over the other. To choose between the one I am familiar with or the other one I haven't been to. Fear is the most difficult obstacle. It can derailed you in an instant and hinders you to go on.

November 16, 2009. It's been 2 years since I took courage to traverse the road that never had occurred in my million thinking. I stepped inside the train of life called Journey bound to a destination I never once imagined to be this beautiful. There's no turning back as the machine started to give a hint that I am on my way to another place, another time, another experiences, another memories.

The train stopped. I dropped off my fear, entrusted my fate to my Lover knowing that I'll be safe with His guidance, having His Love as my ultimate light. I came to met my family away from my own dear family. Homesickness, I understand is another obstacle I came to struggle with. But the passing of days taught me to become more stronger, persevering in serving our patients, carrying love everywhere, compassion to aid in my difficulties, prayer to boost my determination, and seeing God  anywhere knowing that He never left eversince I decided to take a major turning point in my career. The blessings kept pouring until to this writing. They say you can never go to where you will be without having to look back on your history. Here are some of the photos I found as I went back down the memory lane: 

\
Our first party attended after stepping foot on the barren land. Is wasn't that barren afterall=) 


This our very first New Year away from our family. As I remember it vividly, there was no plan of celebration since we were still establishing rapport with each other. But then again, we might really be destined to celebrate life with joy. This was the start of everything..the rest, is a happy history=)


Celebrated our first 6th monthsary. We are happy people, especially in front of the dining table!!!


Our first flat 8 family portrait. We are indeed camera-shy type so to say,LOL. This was taken on my 1st birthday here in the East.


Yayo and Feda's Ranch Party. I told you, we are shy-type people=)


Hahaha I am speechless. Maybe because this is a "bangag-ers" photo. celebrated Chen and Britt's controversial "off-limits" party!! censored photos are available but to protect our dignity, be satisfied with the above photo, LOL


Find it hard to look for a photo where our eyes are normal in color. But since DSLR did not exist yet in our flat during that days, please bear with me as I share to you the 10-10-10 birthday celebration of Madel and Ate Maricar in black and red motif. 


Winter is definitely here as we had our first rooftop experience in line with Marj and Pip's winter party celebration. 



Ended the year 2010 with so much improvements in flat 8. Decorated the flat for Christmas celebration. Though we did not won the prize for the best flat contest, we have the best memories for the year 2010--the stronger friendship and bonding!


Welcoming another year of celebration as Carla turned 26! It's a Holsten night! No "bangags" this time!=) This was Feda's last party attended since she flew back home in early February.


Ehem..it's not full-moon. In tagalog, hindi "kabilugan ng buwan",LOL Celebrated Marj Uy's birthday with our first DSLR shots! Improving=)


No plans and theme for Shine's birthday party. But we always find ways. Spent her birthday with simple dinner and rooftop memories thereafter. Who said it wasn't celebrated afterall?=)


 



The past years were a tremendous blessings! Looking back, I could have think twice of pursuing such an unpredictable journey. I could have backed out and let the train go on its journey. Looking at the present, I'm sure it was not a mistake I had given it a try. To my flatmates, we are down on our last year. I can already hear life's train machine starting to jump-start for the next journey. I don't know where will be the next stop, if we will still be together in that travel, or if we will ever rub elbows again. I'm just thankful that during one of my life's stopover, I've come to know you all, made memories in my life's map; something I could have not known should I let fear conquered me 2 years ago. I love you guys. We'll continue the journey. May we meet or not in the next stop, I don't know. Life's full of unpredictable twists and turns. Life's like a train. It will have a stopover. And in my life's journey, you are all of of those many beautiful stopovers! I love you Flat 8! Happy Anniversary! =)

12 November 2011

..she's more than a sister..

Photo credit to Lee's Photography
My sweetie pie,

How time flies. It's been another 365 days since I wrote my first love letter for you. And it has been twice the 365 days I'm missing you. As I look back down the memory lane, I cannot helped but smile at how we were able to surmount life's enumerable storms.  You and me back to back, one strong shoulder for the one who's feeble. One's source of strength when the other is at verge of losing hope. If I can compare our relationship, we are like the opposite ends of a seesaw, and God is our lever. Your weight on the other end of the pole is not a burden for me just as mine was never to yours. There were times when God allowed us some downfalls. But that's why He created a seesaw with opposite poles so that when the other is down, the opposite would aid the other to meet halfway to a balance. And it is never impossible since God is at the center of it.

I am so humbled of how we emerged better souls after all the blows. On your 25th, there is nothing less I can wish for you. We have gone through way ahead of  the whips and cords of  life. Expect that it will occur once in a while. What's important is for us to use those scars to heal other's wounds. And expect that I will just be on the other end. I may not be so strong to lift you up everytime but never be afraid when you are down. Never lose nerve to undergo downfalls because that's what made us to what we are now and to where we will be in the future.You can always rest assured that I am just on the other end seeing you through, pulling you through, loving you all the way up and all the way down.

Someday, when the 365 days will turn to a 60th or the 70th times, I will still look forward that there will be you and me holding hand in hand in our golden wheelchair. We'll both watch our own family growing in love for others and most especially, serving and loving our Lord. If someone will ask if we are sisters, I will deny it. Because you are not just a sister. You are more than that to me.

I love you so much Robz, and I would not have chosen life any other way. Happy birthday my other pole!

Love,
Manang

08 November 2011

..of shooting stars..


For the past days, I have a repeated prayer. You know the feeling of  anticipation? That something wonderful is about to come? Is it hope? Or the universe really knows how to conspire? 

When I was a kid and the moon's bright, I love going out of the house and just watched the peaceful sky. They say that when you see a falling star and make a wish, it will be granted. I'm a type of person who would believe in what I see, but on the discreet side, I'm also a hopeless romantic. I'm a sucker of romance and happy endings. I believe in fairy tales and prince charmings. I even believe that shooting stars have extended ears for wishes. In my journey of love so far, I never missed out to say my wishes on shooting stars. Some of them are for the people that I love. Some are for the highest good. Rarely I wished for my personal profit. But then as I said, I recently felt the "anticipation" of something wonderful. One night as I lay my tired body in bed, I looked up to the ceiling of our room. The dimmed light added a feeling of nostalgia. I don't know how to start my prayer. The feeling is intense. Tears are already starting to fill the edges of my eyes. And it fell before I knew it. I know I wasn't able to utter words but I already said the prayer. And it was genuine, it was real. On the night that followed, we had a picnic under the blanket of clear sky at the rooftop. On a windy evening, I saw the shooting star painting the sky gracefully. I said my silent wish, this time for myself. As it speedily culminated to nowhere, hope shines my heart... As it always does.

An excerpt from my note entitled "Solitary Star"..
....I'll be a solitary star for the meantime. I know someone out there is seeing the light coming from my a not-so-starry-starry-world. I know you are in search for me and be glad to know that I  am patiently waiting..for the right time will come we'll together build our own starry starry world=).....

Sweet November!=)

28 October 2011

..coded black..

Very severe smoke inhalation. That was my case. Ashes and burns covered all over my face. I was lying on the ground, taking the remaining oxygen the earth has provided for me. My lungs are on the verge of collapsing. I was given oxygen via face mask. I inhaled to the deepest breath I can, making sure that it reaches my every alveoli. I heard the ambulance nearing my location. They mounted me up on the stretcher and hurriedly took me to the Emergency Room. I am nearing to my final destination. The clutters and chatters of bystanders and the attending doctors upon my arrival I clearly heard. They put a name tag around my wrist. I  felt the hand opening my eye  to see if my pupil's responding to light. A stethoscope was also placed over my chest, just to confirm that he had made the right assessment. In an ordinary  busy hospital day, in a moment I readied  myself for ,I heard the final diagnosis: Pupil dilated, no heartbeat. Declared arrested.  They put a black bandage around my arm, covered me with white cloth and pushed me to the empty room. In a cold hospital lobby miles away from the people I love, when half of the world is busy with their lives, there I laid lifeless. And in  few minutes that I waited, I heard the voice saying--External Disaster Drill culminated.

This is one of our hospital's enumerable activities in preparation for the accreditation. I was chosen to participate in the drill, I just never expected to be given the role of playing someone who died. So that's how it felt to be coded black, or dead. Though it was only a drill, I still felt my tummy turning back and forth as if today's gonna be my last show on the face of the earth. Steve Job could have been right when he said that dying is a potent change-agent. If you know the end of your time, you'll do the best that you can to LIVE. After the drill, I thanked God for the chance to experience how it is to die. Now I know.=)


15 October 2011

..how can I not believe?..

It's been another week of memories. Sometimes, I just wanted to be in my second place most often to hasten the days. Yes it's really tiring being a nurse. But so far, it's one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. God really knows how to keep me going. Even in my desert days, He never failed to send me oases.

My shift's about to end last Tuesday. My patient who happened to be an Indian nationality is for discharge. He was transferred to our ward because of trauma accident in the site of his job. Unluckily, his insurance was disapproved. In short, he has to pay the entire hospital bill in gold cash. He was summoned by the manager on duty. I was inside of his room and heard all the words no one wanted to hear. None of  his facial expressions escaped from my gaze. For someone who's also a foreigner, I feel for him. For someone who had been there in his situation is like seeing the memories on rewind mode. It's hard for us nurses to witness such a scene. We can care for our patients' need no matter how hard they are to be meet but when it comes to matters like this, we can barely witness. Or so I thought.

I went out of his room with the picture of what had happened illustrated in my mind. That's  the difficult part when you are bound to sympathize because you can't get away of the need to do something. And a voice inside me says I need to do something. I don't know how but I went back to his room. I asked for the amount  he's oblige to pay and though I'm not a mathematician, it costs almost half of my year's salary. I again felt the heaviness as I saw his tears started to well his eyelids. "My boss is hard to dwell with when it comes to money matters", he said as I interrogated him of the possible source of help. I suggested if he can ask help from our insurance approval section who happened to be an Indian nationality. And if they can provide the police report the manager is asking from them so he can be free from paying cash. "There is a medical report but it would be available tomorrow for stamping". Then it's another additional payment should he cannot discharge today. I really wanted to lay my hands over him and say a prayer, but as touching him might convey a different meaning, I closed my hands together and say my silent prayer. I believe it was such a pure intention, that He will provide means in an impossible situation. I went out of the room again and continue my other obligation. In a matter of I guess 15-20 minutes, my patient's relative handed to us the clearance! It was not clear to me how that happened. We were just talking of their dilemma and there it was, the paper clearing them of financial burdens!

We were not able to talk again before they left but as they wave their hands goodbye, I knew it was and only Him who did the impossible possible.

I left my second place, the hospital smell, with overwhelming joy. God indeed, is the best specialist of "Impossible". This is a blessed week,. I just love being a nurse!

"How can you not believe Kim?"-God

09 October 2011

..a candle intended for me is intended for you, too..

Photo credit to Saleh
The moon lights the clear sky with few twinkling stars. I can feel the wind now subsided from emanating humid touch on my face. It's such a perfect night on the rooftop, the citywide is immersed with glowing lights from households and streetlamps. I took sometime taking shots of the quiet city from where I stand. Since it's my friend's 28th birthday, we brought with us two bottles of drinks. I said my birthday wish for her that went like: "Lord, I hope You will entrust him to me . But since my friend is now celebrating her 28th, I'd rather wish you grant her the boyfriend she's asking before You grant mine=) And the moon knew our silly laughs and jovial wish!

The past days were a bit of toil for me. Not because I have major issues in my personal life but because the people I love has. I always look at the sunset with the optimism of the rising sun. Everything that the day brings commence at sunset-the toxic duty, irate patients and their relatives, demanding doctors and sometimes, uncooperative work mates. But you cannot stop the sun from rising at the East-and this comes with my hope that the people I cared for will see what I'm seeing at the dawning of sunset. 

Though I have my own things to ponder upon, I cannot just be naive. I cannot act as if I do not care because it's hard to pretend that you don't. Then the others' weight become yours too. And you become dense, the magic "sponge" becomes soaked. Don't get me wrong but I love to listen, I love to impart what I have in anyway it can go along, I love to be on somebody's shoe and be part of their own walk. But at times, there are moments that you wanted to try to fix it all and you get weary realizing that you are not the Genie in the bottle. 

My secret way to get through is to ask. I often ask favor. I often ask someone to visit a church and light a candle for me as my alibi. Then out of pity for me, or let's just say subtle emotional manipulation (haha), I would receive an affirming answer. It's then I would start my secret job (which is not a secret anymore) to utter my prayers, hoping that the light emanating from the candle will aid the hand that eagerly lit it. That in every melting wax comes with it the melting of the pain they bear. There would be some of you who are now in such an inevitable situation of pain. And as of this writing, I too is feeling that pain for such a dearest friend. Whatever situation you might be undergoing now or struggling to overcome, remember this short story of Aladdin and the magic lamp shared to me by my spiritual mentor:

Aladdin discovered a dirty lamp. He then, without any second thought rubbed the lamp and the magic happened. The rest is history...But why did Aladdin rubbed the lamp in the first place? Because it was dirty.

We are the lamp. And we are all dirty.

And because we are dirty, God will never give up rubbing us until that magic happens. Yes, it would absolutely hurt. You will feel every pressure, mourn on every friction. But God will never leave you undone, until you are being cleaned up..until the magic happens.


Can you do me a favor? Please light a candle for me=)



01 October 2011

..inspired by Red..

Have you ever experienced dragging your feet off  from bed and finding anything to keep you going? I happened to read an article way back 2 years ago. It was about someone who is undergoing an emotional ordeal. Basing on the tone of his ink, he was running from his love ones on the fear of rejection. It's as if he wanted to "pay" the sins he didn't specified by running away..By cleansing his soul, he imposed self-punishment. He turned away from the people he loves and who loves him. These lines hit me the most.."With tears in my eyes, I've fallen asleep. I woke up the next day, and I knew I was never alone".. I re-read his story over and over again, feeling his own pain and desolation. I understand his own idea of running away to keep himself and the people around him from hurting. Whenever I'm feeling the weight of the world about to touch my shoulders, I always remember his lines. Human as I am, bumibigay din ako minsan..
Today, I happened to read again another article from him. It is very comforting knowing that I found a hint that he's on his way of healing from whatever wounds he used to run away from. Let me share to you his article I received just today:

His waking moments are filled with thoughts that bring the morning to a standstill. The sun has barely touched the corners of his room, yet his heart already looks for the moon’s soft glow. For this man, each day has become marked with wisps of silent struggles between laughter and tears, of strength and weakness, of hope and despair. His soul  and happiness is locked inside the gridiron battle between reason and emotion impervious to those around him.
The heart longs for another's presence who once shared its space; yet, to place one's meaning and happiness on another person does not only invite longing and pertubrbation, but also creates a void.
And for the man who is trapped in the invisible battle of reason and emotion, true peace and joy can only come when one surrenders to the healing love of Jesus Christ.
 
Hi Red,
 
Thank you for touching my heart again by the story of your pains and your healing. I will never forget those lines. And just to inform you that I remember you upon seeing sunrise.
 
 
.. My October sets out brightly inspired! and for now, I will sleep soundly tonight..=)
 
 
 
 
 

30 September 2011

..ending September..

I have so much to thank God for another month full of wonderful memories. I just came from my night shift duty. I should be sleeping now since the census is much than we expected. Nonetheless, it turned out to be a peaceful shift..our patients are getting better, they are all alive, and I did not ended the shift pumping somebody's heart. In addition, I have many good news from my sister whom I missed so much! I have so many answered prayers and I don't know what I did to deserve any of those (I'm not whining, I swear!=) I'm not a materialistic person and I know how to delay gratifications. But God knows the desires of my heart, I'm naked in His eyes and He can read my mind. And so, He granted me my material blessings aside from my nonnegotiable asset-my FAMILY. The stock market is not doing well, we have our negative losses and still I thanked God because we were given the chance to buy lesser cost of stocks. I do not brag of my wealth but I encourage you to invest in hard times, even with the little money you have. Sow in time of famine! Yes, I, too is an investor!=) I do not have ample time to enumerate my blessings because a lifetime will never be enough. Whatever you went through this month, be thankful. Find blessing in every situation, and be a blessing in any situation. Pamper yourself once in a while, I know God will be happier seeing you smiling. Try to fulfill a promise to yourself  so you can fulfill a promise to others. Afterall, you can never give what you never have. You are definitely worthy in God's eyes, because you are His greatest addiction. You and me are interconnected, because we were made by ONE HAND.

Let me say a short prayer for you:

Thank you Lord for creating me with the most intimate love I can never find anywhere else in the world. Thank you for being so addicted to me and to the one reading this post. Bless their families and the people who give them joy, inspiration, and even pain. I pray not to take their burdens but to find You in their burdens. Let them see You in the rising sun and even feel You in the humid air. Bless me more so I can be a blessing. Let me experience Your miracle so I can be a miracle to someone else. Your will prevails. In Jesus name, Amen!

Bring it on October!!!=)

25 September 2011

..a hum of love for my special man..

Today is a special day because the first man of my life just turned 46! Whenever there are birthday celebrations in my family, expect me to be home-bound. That's why a month ago, I already requested for today's day off . I just wanted to be home on his day. And yes I believe that the angels in heaven are throwing him a big birthday party. I can figure out he is wearing a white shirt and ivory-colored shorts which is his usual outfit while he was still living in his former residence. Then my great Lola is there together with her one and only love, my Lolo, giving their gift to my Pap which is of course their big warm hug. Then I imagined God winking at me saying "I told you, they are at peace with Me".

I'm on duty at the dawn of his birthday. Though my admissions kept coming in, I paused for a while to send my birthday greeting. I missed my silent man, my silent angel whom I know is just around watching over his grown ups. Then in the stillness of dawn, I happened to hummed this song: 

..Sing me a song again, Daddy
Sing me a lullaby 
Wrap me inside your arms, Daddy
Though this is not goodbye
Your songs will live forever
In my heart when times get rough
THE ONES I'LL MOST REMEMBER
ARE YOUR SONGS OF LOVE...


Happy 46th birthday Pap!

21 September 2011

..of art and passion..




'"Art gives us the creativity to express ourselves while challenging our intellect"- Art and Soul Asia



My family has embraced Art way back as far as my memory can grasps when my grandmother's siblings designed their cabinet painted with a sailing ship. It existed until I was able to see it myself. My grandfathers are vehemently inclined to music and painting. As what my Lola would tell me, they would gather on circle: my Lolo's would play the guitar and my late Lola Saling would sing aptly. It's their way of alluring young girls, which I believed an added asset aside from their good physical features. We are the naturally blessed progeny!=)




Here are some of the evidences of our inherited genes:

Evan Venegas
Architect, Adamson University
Visual Artist, Art Educator, Design Consultant



Above are some of the paintings of my Tito Evan, my father's first cousin. I hardly knew him since his family is settled in Laguna until the wake of my other uncle, his brother, who died 2 years ago. He works with ceramics. He holds art shows to showcase his masterpieces. Recently, he just finished his very personal project--their home-- which according to him is an Artist's Haven! Someday, if I can afford to have my own place, can you be my architect?=)


Anne Therese Balajadia Rejano
Psychology Student, University of Santo Tomas
Passion: Singing


Anne's my cousin. Her mom and my mom are first cousins. I remember in our first meeting her being quiet and shy-type. Well, I was impressed when I saw her video in a KPOP contest. She sing and dance so well!! I  can only relate to the latter, nevermind the singing,LOL She's having her Voice and Stage Performance Lessons at Center for Pop Music Philippines. Once, I got to chat with her mom telling me that they are having this sort of dilemma because she wanted to participate in a contest which would cost a semester's tuition fee. I remember having told her these lines after she felt a bit disappointed with her parents' decision not to pursue with the said contest: "who said you cannot flaunt your talent without costing that much?". She's now busy in her studies and the passion she will never give up..a dream she has always been chasing..
Keep dreaming dear Anne, we are so proud of you!


Art is everywhere: a shadow of a cat scratching its nose with its paws, a rocking chair, a laidback open book, a setting sun, an ardous road,  withered strayed leaves, unsharpened pencil, the flowing water from the faucet, the rain, solitary writing, the silence. Yes, even silence is the loudest form of art. We live in hues and contrasts, of shadows and lights, of  shapes and surfaces, of tranquility and chaos. All these combined, in effortless ways, no matter how simple or complicated can be defined as an art.

My own view of art is when I can express what I feel in absence of  my voice: in my writings, my sketches, my photographs, my own paintings. It's an art how I tied my hair without explaining why, it's an art how my hands hold my patients, it's even an art how I just sit on limelight watching the setting sun. That's the cheapest way to converse with the universe. Less, I believed is always more.










I am Rolenkim:
an underground writer, a photo enthusiast, a fan of paints and brushes, a passionate pilgrim, a lover of books, a lover  of art, a lover of life!






Who are you? What's your passion? What's your art?

18 September 2011

..born to forgive..born to love..

Have you ever experienced being singled out despite giving your best shot in lending your hands to help others? But ended up being the villain? How would you react when a close friend failed to protect you in a situation where you think she is much capable to be your protector? Or when your expected kind words turned to be hurtful?

I'm still a girl at heart. I would still hug my pillows under my blanket while sobbing my heart out when I'm hurt. I would still call my mom in my head just like as if someone robbed my doll from me. I still drew my legs toward my chest as if doing so will barricade me from more pains. I'm still a girl who would call to my God, asking for the grace that like kids, I can always forgive. I'm still a girl who would wake up with bedazzled hair in pajama, would run to the mirror and can still manage to say "you were created beautiful" with my eyebags which seemed to lost weight after sometime of crying.

I'm still a girl. Because I can forgive despite the blows. I may cry, yes, and I'm good at it but mind you that it is my alternative medicine. You can hurt me but you can never changed the fact that I was born to forgive, because I was destined to love. Because I was raised by loving people, and that makes me to forgive. You can hurt me and that is only for a while because my heart cannot tolerate rubbish things such as grudge. Because as what I told you, I was destined to love.

As what my mentor said and I would like to share this to you:
The only way to truly forgive others is to forgive yourself first.
We are living in an imperfect world, everyday you'll be hurt. Someone will throw a stone in you, someone will step at your toe, someone will slander your name. But remember that you, too, is imperfect. So let your matters rest in God's hands.

I can assure you that I'm not exempted from everyday blows. I'm still vulnerable to the 'stones' of life. But as long as I believe that I am forgiven because of love, who am I not to do the same? Afterall, we all live in circles. What we give will be equally reciprocated.

How do you forgive? And how often?

16 September 2011

..it pays to let silence caress your face..

The night wasn't the same like the other nights. I looked up to the sky and the moon seemed lazy being there waiting for the stars to come out. I stared for a couple of seconds that I guess turned out to minutes until some of the shining stars slowly appearing out of the dark silent night. I feel like removing my shoes, feel the heat of the earth's floor, spreading my hands out of the air and inhaling the air just to fill every alveoli in my lungs. I feel like dancing on my feet with the music only I can hear..because the music is coming from my heart. Then in every move, every twist and bend of my body gives a therapeutic benefit since in its every gesture releases my emotions..every sweat from my nape comes with it the extraction of what I feel that night. It's vague how I thought of being barefooted on a crowded hospital premises. If only I'm on a deserted place, I will dance to the music of my heart. I will dance like it was the first time I will move my limbs. I will dance like tomorrow is a day when music will be forever mute and the dancer will be forever deaf. 

In a busy day, it pays to stop for a while and gaze the blanket of stars. What a relief to sometimes shed tears in an awe how my loving God created the universe..and how hush can do to a beating heart..

06 September 2011

♥..delayed blessings=)..♥

"Such a lovely place, such a lovely place, such a lovely place!" This is my song of the night when I learned that my long-awaited love letters finally landed on my hand. This should have been my family's surprise on my birthday but unfortunately, they spoiled the surprise since they themselves are excited in letting me know that they sent something for me. If you've been reading my blogs, you would know how I longed for snail mails. I believe that there are no unanswered prayers, only delayed blessings! And mine came in a bunch! Because I have received more than what I wished for. Because I'm super happy, I will disclose some pictures of my love letters=) *photos were captured by my DSLR which by the way got well today..yipeeeee!!

Great gifts come in small package! This is the only thing I received..or so I thought. Because when I opened this tiny thing, it contained 6 more mails! 

The best message every mom can tell their kids. I just heard it from our own version of "best mom"=)
Why I never inherited her good handwriting? As what my IELTS instructor said before, "You are a good writer..JUST IMPROVE YOUR PENMANSHIP"..ouch, hopeless case..

When all else get blurred, this picture would be the last to fade..
This one was from my mom..Actually, she sent me two cards. The first one is the top picture with a verse from the Bible. Inside it was my mom's scribbling of love and longing. Below it was what made me smile a lot. It's a funny art of a girl making face with my favorite words just below it. My mom's such a sweet brat!hahaha (the other one contained chismis so better not post it at all,LOL)

We don't wear heels, but we walk as if we are wearing one..because we are each other's shoe!


 I just love the simplicity of the texts, it speaks a lot the kind of relationship my sister and I have. Inside it she wrote, "That's us, Ate. You are the world's greatest sis!"

from my dearest tita who taught me what selfless love is, what is self-denial is all about. and above all, SERVICE is synonymous to LOVE..and both can speak in behalf of the other.
Kathreah's card for Manang Kim
Clarence's and his Papa Kato's gift. Clarence wrote his letter using a ruler. Mind you, I'm doing that too when I was a kid!haha
The orange-tinge card came from my beloved tita. I ran my fingers through her writings and ended up kissing the card. The truth is that I kissed it all one by one after reading it. The left lower card was from my cousin Kat who's also good in art. She painted at the age of 9 if I'm not mistaken in a canvass! Something I never done at my age. The right lower part came from my other cousin Clarence and his Papa Kato, my uncle. Both expressed there thank you's and again, I can't helped to run my fingers on their writings. As if I'm just touching the edge of their fingertips.

Oh my, how can I hate the world when I have all the inches to prove me that love governs it? When nothing past the second or moment I felt neglected and unworthy? How can I take grudge on this earth when I feel closer to heaven? Love governs this world. Only love!