..To Really Live at the Moment..

How dependent we have become to gadgets?

I tried to have a good grasped at the start of this article the question that has bothered me the past days. Night before the much needed slumber, I was beneath my comforter flicking my phone screen  while waiting for my limbic system to start doing its job. Unfortunately, it failed that I noticed I was continuously scanning my phone. I rose from bed, distracted of  devaluing my rule of "no screen" at bedtime. I woke up that day and guess what? With phone as my alarm clock. Checking my to-do lists, calendar, the whom-with-who and the endless rants at the start of my day. I felt sick I know there's something wrong. With how I use the gadget. With how I allow social media to intercept with my routines. With how much I allow social media to consume my most valued asset: Time

Coming to duty, I passed by the lobby with patients waiting for their admission, head-down on the phone. I walked past the hallway to ICU only to see a colleague on earphones, head-down on the phone. I was hoping to see a different view in the meeting room that might restore my faith to  humanity. But the moment I opened the door, no one's talking to each other, all heads bent down. I closed the door immediately. Feeling suffocated, I stayed in the hallway and watched people. 

How can I alter a cogent affinity to technology? Is this how languishing the world is? 

I was saddened as I penned down this thoughts for I know the impact seemed to be irreversible. And I'm becoming piece of it.

We were sitting in a coffee shop today and part of that "alteration in patterns" is No-Phone during conversation. We were gathered in circle, mouthwatering cakes served with our choice of coffee and there, looking at each other's wrinkled face while listening and reacting to the one telling the story is a rebreather. Surprisingly, we didn't notice the minutes that turned into hours, the simple connection that carved the night's memories, a breathe of fresh air etched from staring at each other's eyes, and the big zest for life that yes, we can create special connections without gadgets.We went home bagging laughters, full tummy aside (a gross understatement), and hearts lifted  with happiness from authentic conversation.. To really live at the moment is a challenge, but not impossible. 

So tonight, my faith in humanity was restored!

Somehow, part of me is hopeful that there is cure for this great malady and addiction. 

We are special not because we have many followers or our gram has many likes. No dear, your worth is not dependent on that. Your success is not defined by other people's comments. Your strength should not wane the moment someone unfollows you.

You know what living is?

It's going to bed with those old worn big shirt, heart's fluttering not because of the nuisance of wealth, fame and money. 

It's  P E O P L E. 

It's  P U R P O S E.

Afterall, reality is more favorable than the world of filters.

Good night.

I Knew Love from Mickey Mouse Watch

Photo Credit: Robz Tan

She is my champion when it comes to selfless giving. She is my constant when it comes to giving without expecting anything in return.

I was a 3rd grader then, fatherless. One day, she brought me and my sister to a small shopping mall. Opportunity like this is a luxury for us. I cannot contain my giddiness watching all the mannequins beautifully clothe in dresses you can only see in TV. Perhaps because we live a simple life, and having enough is more than enough for us.

I stood in front of a glass watching the colorful Mickey Mouse watch. I can’t take my eyes off it I didn’t hear her calling my name. Feeling her hand on my shoulder, she politely asked the lady tending the store how much it costs. “P280”.

“I’ll get two pieces”, she proudlysaid. She was vibrant and young and single. All her money is always intended for our needs when she could have spent it for herself. 

She took a P500 bill from her purse and hand it to the lady. “Kulang ni Ma’am”(Ma’am this is not enough), the quick reply. She glanced at the price tag and see it for herself. “Ahhh, P280 gle, abi ko P80” (ahh this is P280, I thought it’s 80), the soft words came out from her. She handed back the Mickey Mouse watch, my gaze still transfixed while it was returned back to its nesting place. 

“I can’t take one watch. I have two nieces with me. Maybe next time.”

That was the first time Mickey Mouse broke my heart. 

But that was also the first time I realized what equality is. How she would always play fair in giving because everybody should have a share. I grew up with most of the days preoccupied by the picture of that watch. 

When I reached college and doing my immersions, I hated it when she would wake up ahead of my alarm clock. My meal’s ready, uniform well-pressed, my travel bag contained items that comes in two: two sets of towel, two sets of pillow case, two sets of slippers. All to ensure that I’ll never run out of things I’ll be needing outside home. We would then walk together up to the Jeepney station, she on her old worn jacket and cap. The moment she would turn her back from me, I can feel a lump on my throat, my eyes would moist out of so much sacrificial love from someone who dedicated her life to make everything easy for me. Someone who would save Christmas gifts as our "emergency fund". Someone who never bought a nail polish for herself. Her hands, are in fact, wrinkled and battled doing dirty and hard stuffs for me and my sister.

I am now a nurse, and with humility, can buy more sophisticated watch. 

But I’m always humbled by that day when she wasn’t not able to buy me that Mickey Mouse watch. Because she gave me the most precious commodity a Mickey Mouse watch can never commensurate.

Her  T I M E. 

The world is full of  intellectuals. The earth has produced skillful and 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 SELFLESS 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, single by choice

Profile      :  Aunt of the author

Expertise  :  Lingering Service in Self-giving

Happy Birthday Tita!

My love for you is immaculate.

..Of Broken Heart and Being a Nurse..

She was brought to Intensive Care post-operatively. I was sure that day that I was meant to be assigned to her.
I was just a striving ICU nurse then.

She breathe through the tube that was securely anchored so that everytime I would clear her airways and watched tears falling from her eyes, I won't forget that she's a mom fighting for her newly delivered twins. Her husband would come every morning, exhausted from what seemed only superheroes can endure. Babies in Neonatal Intensive Care, wife in Intensive Care. I forgot to complain I ate cold meal for breakfast that day. Or that I missed the elevator ride. Or that it's already my nth day of duty.
 I was just too shy to complain of the many mishaps happening in my personal life. This world, when we only open our eyes, consists of pains that come in many names. That day, I was able to name one.

I learned that they waited to conceive after many years of trying. While the cardiac monitor keeps on alarming to her heart rate that exceeded the normal, a syndrome known as Takotsubo or "Broken Heart Syndrome", kept her to be under close monitoring in the ICU. Stroking her newly combed hair, I was taken to the time of how Sara and Abraham, in their old age, received the most special gift from God. It must be the most joyous recorded day of their lives. ICU and NICU, aside.

I cannot leave home without the rosary which always occupies the right side of my pocket. I hold it in times I feel down, when I feel small, when I feel life is throwing me a curve ball, when I lift a foot in front of the other but pulled me 3 steps backward, when the undulations are just too much to take it in. That day, I drew the curtain closed, held the rosary from my sacred place, grasped her palm and clasped it with the rosary inside. With shaking hand, I laid my hand on her head, closed my own eyes so that she won't see my welling tears and said the most fervent prayer I never uttered for how many days. I felt her hand squeezing mine, as if I was vindicated that I don't have to be a pious person to do such act. I squeezed back, to affirm that I understand.
That I understand her pains.
I understand her language of hope and her own faith, wherever it is coming from.

In a world that always seek for scientific evidences for almost anything, that secret prayer meeting, of a nurse and a patient, usually lasting for few minutes, was one of the weirdest things I did being a nurse, putting aside what science taught me in nursing school.

She was discharged from our Unit without seeing each other. I was heartbroken how it was an unceremonious goodbye. I was heartbroken that I wasn't able to thank her for the lessons that usually took place in the ICU cubicle. Her painful situation, my teacher, and the nurse, the student.

Since I wasn't able to thanked her well, I decided to serve well with every patient I encountered.

So many times when I would lay awake from exhaustion that cannot put me to sleep, I would wonder what kind of a person I would be if I have been a doctor and not a nurse. Or I settled to be in a corporate world overlooking the metropolitan. When weekends are made to stay late in bed snuggling someone else.

Far from hospital smell.
Far from holidays that are not really holidays in the world of healthcare.
Far from inconsolable cries from people who lost their loved ones.
Far from paraplegic patient who survive the daily struggles of only eyes moving.
Far from watching patient fading inch by inch and wonder how I would bid goodbye when it's my turn.
Far from the daily hazard of being broken-hearted.

There's no one book that can teach a nurse not to be emotionally attach to the patients.
Nor one book to teach a nurse not to love them either.

Because the baffling reality is that...

you can never fully understand the nature of being a  nurse...

... when you never had your heart broken.

Salute to all the nurses all over the world!

..The Nomadic Life: Gallivant to the Balcony of Europe..

It's one of my resolutions this year to try not to hoard my stories: whether of a travel, a gastronomic afternoon experience or the mundane activities of daily living. I still haven't outgrown procrastination at this age and I plead guilty as charge. Working in Intensive Care Unit where life and death have infinitesimal difference, surviving a 12-hour shift is a glimpse of heaven. Watching patients fading inch by inch, I always wonder how many of them realized their dreams. Delayed it. Or probably had given them up. I have high hopes that at death bed, they are fulfilled as much as regretted life's decisions. It made me think what were their thoughts, or last words, things they could have still wanted to do if not secluded within the four walls of the room which is the last parting view they could have actually had a glimpse of. With the daily eyes I've seen, both weary and enigmatic, almost suggests that there was no human emotions they hadn't recognize, or perhaps, felt this far.

As I grow in experiences (and not in waist),  I am more inclined to rather see the corners  of the world than to settle imagining what it looks like. I confess that my job limits me sometimes to fulfill this only vanity. But at the same time, this noble profession has taught me enormous reasons not to just live, but to truly live. And I mean it italic. 

So in 2016, before my age increase and not the waist, off I went to my second travel alone. 

The intriguing but gaudily less traveled place in Eastern Europe; Georgia.

I have a strong affinity to places that has weird facade at glance but  has the ability to ignite in me to discover the mysteries that lies from the grotesque structures. I don't know why I am easily swept off feet by places that are different. Maybe because I'm different, and at the same time, wanting to be the same. Does it make sense? Oh well, only the weirds can relate. 

And Georgia did.

I always recommend for travelers to avoid staying in a place for a brief period of time. Unless your purpose is just to feed your Instagram, better not to spend a dime and time. Travel is the optimum time to disconnect from a world of filters. It's the suiting time to meet new people, learn new language (even if it's a trying hard one), learn the ability to establish trust (foremost with yourself), and strangers that often becomes your instant map!

I settled in Georgia for 9 days for that purpose(s).

For 3 days, I stayed in a hostel and hired a driver who knows how to speak English since Georgia is dominated by Russian language. I'm glad Nicholas, my private driver, knows exactly where to bring his guests. 

Ananuri Castle

The sense of equanimity is palpable as my peripheral vision takes in every drop of amazement to the first UNESCO-protected site I visited, the Ananuri Castle. Built on 13th century as a refuge for the community during war, overlooking at the Aragvi River, it seemed to remind the pilgrims of its unfazed history.

Surrounding the high walled castle are steep entrances and a subtle view of the still river that turned turquoise with the sky's reflection. I can stay all day watching it.
But just like flirting, I couldn't, for the next stop is waiting =)


Kazbegi Mountain

The main goal of my travel is to visit the Gergeti Trinity Church in the mountainous part of Georgia, the Kazbegi Mountain. Along the way, it's a big relief to see the lush sceneries that made the long drive worth every pain in the arse. The snow-capped mountain of Kazbek, which according to Nicholas, remained to be "snowy" throughout the year made the arduous and scorching heat of July's summer a little less.

The Georgia-Russia Friendship Monument is the only shaded structure along the way to Kazbek. Many tourists stop here to get a good view of the greener side of Georgia.

That's me imagining Derek Ramsay on my side saying, "we'll jump on two!", lol

And finally, after shouting "kaya ko ng mag MOVE ON", nah, just kidding, I savored the richness and greatness of God. It was a birthday wish come true to arrive safe and in one piece after the hilarious ride up to 2000 meters elevation! 

Gergeti Church

The Holy Trinity Church, the symbol of Georgia stood ablaze the setting sun. It was a mixed emotion of happiness and blessedness to actually felt its 18th century walls that protected the religious relics during the time of Soviet era where it was prohibited, stepped foot on its floors and prayed fervently out of gratefulness. I forgot the mileage it took for me to traveled this far, the inconveniences along the steeped and rough roads and detours I would want to yell that I don't want to die a poor V****N! But truly, difficult roads often lead to grand destinations.

And in addition to being very lucky to meet new people (handsome people for this matter), I prayed for everyone I can remember before leaving this place melancholic and nostalgic I would want to go back to someday.


Chronicle of Georgia

Back to the city after a mountainous journey, Chronicle of Georgia is akin to The Stonehenge. This, by far, the tallest structures of monuments that depict Biblical history beyond the grasp of my gaze I felt dizzy how human beings were gifted enough to build such masterpiece that transcends through time.

This travel was kind of  mysterious everywhere I go, it always lead me to something so strong I can't escape. This is very likely to say, with my head turned upward to the Man on the Cross: 

My Love for you is stronger, Kim.

Mtskheta

The oldest city of Georgia where Christianity bloomed and is another UNESCO Heritage Site, Mtsketa is Georgia's "Holy City".

Strolling around the Holy City is another century old piece, the Jvari Monastery or the Monastery of the Holy Cross. A massive overlook of the city, as most of the churches in Georgia are situated on a hill. Told yah, everywhere I go, there's always that strong force of magnet leading me to the Cross =)

(But I'm not going to be a nun for sure,lol)

Sameba Cathedral

It was a hot day when I turned 31. Usually, it drizzles everytime I celebrate my natal day. I was hopeful that I will escape the downpour since it's summer in Europe. No way for the rain to awash the streets where I'll flaunt my age,hahaha But without fail, as miraculous and mysterious it was, it rained. It gave me a prickle on the hair of my neck, believing that God is playing favorites. And I'm one of them=)

Abanotubani Sulfur Baths

I was curious right after I loaded my belly with carbs from an afternoon stroll to this little hunches at the heart of Tbilisi. Abanotubani is the "bath district" of Tbilisi.

I went inside innocently with a decent purpose of experiencing the sulfur bath. Afterall, it was a day of indulgence since I am celebrating another year of being mischievously rebellious in nature. I paid in the counter and went inside a simple tiled room, feeling the slight change in temperature. The  small transparent luminous ceiling created a morbid thought. Is this a cabin of prostitutes? What if I was cheated and be the first Asian to be sold to some Russian hottie? Is this the end of my V-journey? I almost cried of fear I created for myself. The ripples of those thoughts were dismissed when the staff assigned to me smiled gracefully as if we were BFFs. She gestured that I should removed all my garments. As in all. As in everything. And I was like, "AS.IN.EVERYTHING?" Well, you can't blame me. The acts of being chaste,haha

It was the craziest act of being 31!
I enjoyed though the benefits of the sulfur bath to my skin after all the morbid thoughts I went through!=) That's how I spell V!lol


Rustaveli Avenue

If you are the type of upbeat and loves the air of "being in the city vibe", then Rustaveli Avenue is the place to go around. You will submit yourself to strict diet after you can't say no to endless resto and sweets anywhere. I sat on one of the benches, licking my gelato like a pro, watching people passing by, and how kind Georgian people are not to watch you licking...gelato I said.


Freedom Square

It's mind-boggling to me how all these structures colliding together with the old ones in the same city. Like a concoction of medieval and modern all wrapped up and then voila, it became Tbilisi Georgia!
Freedom Square, which was known before as Liberty Square, the place where Georgia was declared free from Russian Empire.


Peace Bridge

Walk among the crowd on this peace-illuminating bridge while overlooking the city transforming into colorful night lights. Perhaps, Georgia doesn't bother to explain its weirdness. Besides, that's the very reason I was attracted to unveil its every corner.


Narikala Fortress

After 3 days of staying in the hostel, I checked-in to Old Meidan Hotel for the rest of my vacation, the staffs were so friendly I received a birthday card and chocolates when I arrived at the hotel that night. And believe me, with no intention at all, my window view is a church.

Narikala Fortress, a 4th century fortress situated at the hill gazing by day and night, like a mother hen brooding her chicks for warmth and guidance.

Travel Hacks:
1. Have your money change at the airport of Tbilisi. Black market in the city has quite different exchange rate. And always bring a credit card.
2. People in Georgia are very kind. FYI: Georgia is the second safest place for females to travel alone! Who runs the world?=)
3. I booked my flight 3 months before my departure date. July is summer, and the rates of hotel and airfare are relatively high. So if you want to spend summer in Georgia, book your flight way ahead than 3 months. And bring ample sunblock!
4. Eat dumplings and grilled pork (with Georgian beer, sshhhh). No rice of any sort in Georgia. Remember, you're in Europe. The thing I didn't realize when I went there,haha
5. Go to Bread House for the authentic Khachapuri, a traditional Georgian bread with lots of cheese and top with egg. Eat it in a way you'll ripped off the crust and dip to the melting cheese! Yum!
6. If you want night life activities, stroll Gorgasali streets and you'll have enormous finds of resto and bars. I recommend Retro Cafe for pasta and Cafe Accent for best tiramisu and coffee.

There you go, my ebullient and nutso adventure!

Oh please, don't die wondering!

..To Love is To..

I have endured terrible things in my life. Some of them I have trouble moving past. Perhaps, the only thing that kept me going is the thought that we are capable of becoming better, and more, despite our afflictions, our incongruencies, our defects, our blemishes, our bends. 

Seven wonderful and unnerved years of deficiencies of writing articles and into this non-profitable passion that started one cold night of December. As an underground blogger, I always feel the need of imparting a piece of myself whenever I would start blotting words into my blogs: to encourage, to inspire and to let my readers have a reflective time not only on the words but on my experiences. Afterall, this is a collection of my life's great lessons.

As I celebrate this longest running commitment of mine, let me journey with you, in love, and to love.

..To Love is To..

Grow.

And sometimes, to grow is to endure change(s). 

And changes are directly proportionl to pain. 

I enrolled in a gym class way back college years because I would buy clothes from the largest size of kid's section. Imagine how thin I was. And imagine I'm the only one on weight-gaining program while the rest are on the other way around. First week was a breeze since I'm only lifting 1-2 kg of dumbbells. Because I'm choosing my own weights. And this didn't escape from the snaring eyes of my instructor. Succeeding weeks are pain on the *ss. Sweats are forming on my forehead I can't lift weights without the help of my instructor. This has been the lingering scenario. But slowly, my muscles were form. My butt  shaped. My arms toned. I can now say the  word "figure". 

I love this analogy. Because in life, to love is to keep on growing through changes, and through pains. 

..To Love is To..

Wait.

For single people, Waiting is a terrifying word.

Because we live in a world where sipping cappuccino in a coffee shop alone makes you appear lonely, and watching movie by yourself gives an air of assumption that something's wrong with you.  But I have high regards to these kind of people, ahem, because they know waiting for the right person to share these experiences is not only worth it, but worth their time knowing their own self.
The longer you wait for something, the more you will appreciate it when it finally arrives. So when she says No, you guys should honor it. Because until such time that you unveil the mystery that covers her body, only mosquito is allowed to bite =)

..To Love is To..

Listen.

Do you really know what makes her sad? Or what makes her clench her fist? Or what makes her eyes glow in amazement? How much do you know her fears? And her stream of thoughts when she is quiet? Or the dreams that make her wake up every morning to call it another day?
How much do you know her soul aside from knowing her body?

"Thank you", he said gracefully. For what? I innocently asked.

"For  l.i.s.t.e.n.i.n.g. I feel loved."


..To Love is To..

Forgive.

First, yourself.
For giving too much. For trusting too much. For believing too much.
There's no greater sorrow for someone who genuinely love to be betrayed. Sometimes, I can't understand why good people suffer. Why people with pure intentions are the ones betrayed and cheated on. The wisdom of my Uncle strike deep: "because you are a gold. Precious. And just like gold, they have to pass through the hottest fire."

Forgiving, just like taking a bath, should be an everyday habit. Because you want to free your body from toxins. You want to clear your body from impurities. Because in forgiving, you set someone else free. You protect someone else.
And yes, that is your precious yourself.



..To Love is To..

Let someone be happy.

And oftentimes, you have to step backwards from the picture.
Because no matter what you give, even that entails your soul and all, you can never take the front seat of their life.
So allow the people you love to see the world without you in it. Let them breathe the elusive air of finding themselves not on your own accord but on their own terms. Let them spread their wings freely on the direction you two can't traverse both. Because in this life, there are roads and paths we have to trudge alone. Be strong, though.
Because who said you can't love someone just by watching them from afar?

..To Love is To..

Let Go.

Of the baggage of those memories. Be thankful instead, that it was you and not someone else. Because God is intelligent enough for choosing you for this battle. Be grateful for the good times and cheer for the ones that are on queue for you. When nights are tedious, remember that the darkest night awaits the brightest day. Why do God made our feet in a way that it face forward and not backwards? And why our eyes were put on our face and not on the back of our head? Why we open our palms when we fervently pray? And why the hands of Jesus arent't close when He was on the Cross?

It is in the act of freeing that we are freed. In the act of giving that we are given. In the act of letting go that we allow good things to come in.

Perhaps, that's loving, too.


I couldn't count the times my heart was broken because of loving. But we were orchestrated to survive. There are so many sadness along our journey, but there are also so much beauty that soothed the aches from loving. We just have to keep one foot in front of the other. Every. Single. Day.
I believe this universe has ears that captured the moments when tears rolled our cheeks. It was so loud it prompted the Lord to save every drop. Same healing tears, He used it to water the broken garden of our heart. And slowly, some tiny living thing start to sprout. You looked at God and asked, "what are you doing, Lord?" With the gentle and most loving smile that He cannot hide, God answered,

"I"m preparing your heart for God's Best."