We Are

The frail, tiny things
gently take upon their hands,
what makes us, we are.

This is How it Goes

I suppose this is how love stories go. Quiet walks and children playing in the park (in this jungle of a city!), a quick trip to the bakery for cookies, sipping such a pretty flat white, and hushed I-love-yous that are louder than the senseless noises of this world.

Sunday in Tipsy Sleepy Glimpses

It's four-thirty in the morning. The weather is so conducive to sleeping, and I've only had less than four hours. I nearly gave up on running but I'm glad I didn't. The cold feels even better when it slices itself on your face as you run or bike.

I.
He wanted to be alone, he said. He said it was because of his brother. Earlier, in the car, we told him that today would have been Francesco's birthday. He imagined how we looked like. You are not alone, I thought. We live our lives not just as our own, anak. As with Jairus. A few days ago, I heard him say, "See, I don't only think of myself. I'm not selfish."

V.
We were literally, rolling on the bed laughing. We thought we heard words from her today: lollipop, Peppa, Daddy. We heard the most beautiful peals of laughter.

I wash dishes, mop the floor, walk to the convenience store for drinks.  And while waiting for D. to put the kids to sleep, while waiting for D to come down to join me for the drinks, I listen to Puccini, E Lucevan Le Stelle, a song I picked up from Daniel Klein's book. Spotify still has chillout playlists.

D.
She comes down and we drink together. Souls alight in this restful, rewarding, blissful quiet of night.

What You Yearn For

Flipping the folds of pop-up books. Singing the alphabet. You put your index finger to your mouth and pout your lips to a shhhhh. Pointing to my nose when asked. Fidgeting a toy laptop. Watching your videos. How generous you are with your smiles. How you stare and observe with an expressive gaze. How you cry and wail as if you were oppressed. Haha!

This is perhaps, a brief becoming, of becoming mindful of everydayness instead of seeing it as a repetitive lull. 

I apologize, dear life, dear universe, if I have not been thankful enough. If I have left my life unexamined. If I have been too un-involved in my moments. If I couldn't share, cherish and cherish again the many joys of the past few days and years.

Constantly remind me to want for others whatever it is I want for myself, to deserve such joys, to be selfless, to keep striving.

Lavender Sniffers

Travels with Epicurus
Daniel Klein
Penguin Paperback, 164 pages

"It is not the young man who should be considered fortunate but the old man who has lived well, because the young man in his prime wanders much by chance, vacillating in his beliefs, while the old man has docked in the harbor, having safeguarded his true happiness." -Epicurus

"Not what we have, but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance." -Epicurus 

He's at the best seat in the terrace of Greek taverna in Hydra. He's friends with the owner, he takes an olive-wood cane whenever he goes. In his ear is a sprig of lavender that he "with considerable effort" picked up on the way. He sniffs the lavender during lulls in his conversation.

I already got my money's worth with the opening quote and first paragraph. I scored this one from an online store, pre-loved and with the condition it's in, either the previous owner never read it or she takes care of her books with an admirable meticulousness.

Klein writes that this is his personal quest to figure out the best way to live this stage of his life. Perhaps it's his subtle way of saying, I'm having such an awesome time in my seventies. I thoroughly enjoyed reading a travel book that is garnished with some Philosophy. I'd probably never travel to Hydra, so this experience is in a way, transcendental.

It was though-provoking enough to have me re-think my own college thesis. I should have done something along the lines of "Travelling with Nietzsche in Manila." An exposition of Nietzschean themes in a Philippine setting. Rizal vs Bonifacio as the Ubermensch, the herd mentality of religions in my country, the Will to Power in Philippine politics. But I have no such yearnings of writing that now. No one would read it. If I were in college, my adviser would at least be required to read it.

I'm not an old man, I'm not even certain that I will be, but I do have a few joys docked in my harbor. Reading this book, feeling like an old man sometimes, never have I loved life so much more.

To really mean it

to have lost or to have long-forgotten my existential dread
to have a family. to spend a significant amount of time with your family.
to have loved you
to have friends you won't often need, and won't often need you.
to sleep soundly at night.
to have an occupation that nurtures a good heart, that genuinely connects you to people
to (occasionally) drink and be merry
to (even if I'm gaining weight), keep running
to never seem to run out of good reads and good music
to live and tell a good story
to listen more
to think openly, respectfully of everyone
to want for everyone, whatever you want for yourself
to never hurt anyone
to simplify the way we all live
to forget all our desires
to remember that while none of all this matters, we will persist to live meaningfully.