HOW TO STAY YOUNG ---------- [wisdom from spam :)]

i usually get spam emails. sometimes, i bother read them...and each time i do, i find one more reason to 'not regret' having read them at all...and oh, today is my younger sister's birthday. it's been 23 years since anna marion died of leukemia. i still miss her. i guess, the only thing i could do for her memory is TO LIVE' and try stay young...

here's how, says the spam mail :

1. Throw out nonessential numbers.
This includes age, weight and height.
Let the doctors worry about them.
That is why you pay 'them' .

2. Keep only cheerful friends.

The grouches pull you down.

3. Keep learning.
Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever.
Never let the brain idle. 'An idle mind is the devil's workshop.'
And the devil's name is Alzheimer's.

4. Enjoy the simple things.

5. Laugh often, long and loud.
Laugh until you gasp for breath.

6. The tears happen.

Endure, grieve, and move on.

The only person, who is with us our entire life, is ourselves.

Be ALIVE while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love,
whether it's family, pets, keepsakes, music,
plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health:

If it is good, preserve it.

If it is unstable, improve it.

If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9. Don't take guilt trips.
Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county;
to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is.

10. Tell the people you love that you love them,

at every opportunity.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER :


Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take,
but by the moments that take our breath away.

portrait...

tell me not of your dreams and fantasies of how you could change the world for a lovesong; of how you could do better with schemes and sketches of the future for a lovepoem...tell me not of these dear for i have loved you even before i have heard your voice, even before i have known your name, even before i have loved your life...and i love you still.

worry not if sometimes you envision me shed tears not hearing your voice, not seeing your shadows, not feeling you breathe...for those tears are just tears of longing, ready to be blown away by the wind that carries your whisper of sweet love. worry not if you could only smile and think of me as i shower you with words and thoughts and love…for those are just puzzle pieces of the portrait of how i felt…of how i feel for you. true love.i will ask you not of things and expect not of any circumstance...for i (decided to) love - i loved wholly...no ifs...no buts...and i love you still.

one day when this world would make a part of me think of the other side...or a part of me realize that you are not the one, then (i would offer) no regrets. although this is the farthest of possibilities, if it may be so, so be it. it shall be. to THE ONE i would say: i have learned to do your will...i have followed the path you lead and when i learned, i learned deeply and when i followed, i followed completely...and yes, i have learned what you taught best- you have taught me to love. i learned, i followed...i loved. wholly.

just do it...or dont. tis always up to you

i have written a lot in my almost torn notebook by now. i have torn the pages. that may not be the first time that i have torn my writings but i am hoping that that was my last. it happened after the storm last week, some unimportant storm... but i allowed it to get to me for reasons i still can't tell. of all people, it is i that has to be reminded that this world is a jungle and that nothing and no one can ever make me feel bad or mad or even sad without my consent. i am moving on.

no time to waste, i say to myself. no time to waste... 'coz it isn't the thing i did in the past that matters or how it made me feel--- it's the thing i have left undone, and the fact that every morning i wake is a chance to do it. here, have a taste of what i think is one of the best lessons we all have to to learn:

The Sin Of Omission

by Margaret Sangster

It isn't the thing you do, dear;

It's the thing you leave undone,

Which gives you a bit of heartache

At the setting of the sun.

The tender word forgotten,

The letter you did not write,

The flower you might have sent, dear,

Are your haunting ghosts to-night.

The stone you might have lifted

Out of brother's way,

The bit of heartsome counsel

You were hurried too much to say;

The loving touch of the hand, dear,

The gentle and winsome tone,

That you had no time nor thought for,

With troubles enough of your own.

The little acts of kindness,

So easily out of mind;

Those chances to be angels

Which every one may find

They come in night and silence

Each chill, reproachful wraith

When hope is faint and flagging

And a blight has dropped on faith.

For life is all too short, dear,

And sorrow is all too great;

To suffer our great compassion

That tarries until too late;

And it's not the thing you do, dear,

It's the thing you leave undone,

Which gives you the bit of heartache

At the setting of the sun.

PS: today onward, i would do my best to fulfill my mission - to become an inspiration to youngsters by providing them through a kaleidoscopey showcase, the best teachings they could imagine and i could offer in this lifetime; and make them realize that they (have the power to) know as much i do... and that no one will ever mock or belittle or try stop them (they just have to remember to not allow it) for trying to express each little manifestation of those learnings as they apply those in their lives...

yet again, and quite in contrast to the message in the poem above- no one ever should mock or belittle or try stop someone for finding calm in remaining still, for waiting for the right moment, for keeping some thoughts for himself and his god until the needed moment arrives. who knows, by not doing anything at that specific moment--- that "little bit of heartache at the setting of the sun" may be just that: a little bit of heartache. it could have been worse otherwise *winks*. TOUCHMOVE!

i cant be sorry for who i am

oh eff! i don't even know who or what i am as a creature...one thing is for sure: i don't like it when someone says they know me so well or they speak of or write of me as if they have known me for a lifetime. where is this coming from? here--- i stumbled upon a poem and the poem hit me. usually poems hit me but this specific poem hit me as somebody who have not known me for long, believed he/she figured me out based on the fictional or not-so-fictional-whatever-that-is character i playfully projected and somehow ranted about it. why was i consumed by it? maybe because i wanted to cry foul 'coz when i playfully project one side of me to someone, its because i thought that someone is a more-advanced life form and wouldn't look at that side of me that way or...maybe, just maybe... i am loving the drama (we all do sometimes eh?) . oh well. :)

define ALMOST NOTHING

after three weeks of almost nothing
i have to wake myself up
why, was i asleep?

after three weeks of almost nothing
i have to cheer myself up
why, was i down?

after three weeks of almost nothing
i have to motivate myself again
why, was i discouraged?

after three weeks of almost nothing
i have to face the days heads high
why, was i feelin' incompetent?

after three weeks of almost nothing
i have to make myself believe
why, was i feelin' hopeless?

perhaps.
perhaps.
perhaps.
perhaps.
perhaps.

come to think of it...
those three weeks of almost nothing
were few of the best weeks i had.

sometimes, you just have to know...

my valentine, my hero, my other-half

yes. i am making a blogpost about the husband. and as you know (as was posted in those very few posts that i have about him), it just IS hard to do so and still i don't understand why. he just is SOME topic to talk about. but here i am, making another attempt to write a little about him- to kick-off the month of love.

have i told you that i decided to accept him as an important part of my life in valentines day of the new millenium? apparently, my previous relationships (all of it good ones though) weren't Y2K compliant. but with him i decided to give love another shot. and for about 10 years now (and counting), he is my valentine. he is not perfect (IKR - no one is), but he is my mr. right (oh yes, no one, IMHO will ever know how to deal with an 'interrupted disturbed being' that is me.

and here it is again...i don't know what to write anymore. see? this always happens. how do i continue- oh! ... even though he says he feels that i don't love him at times, deep in my heart i always do. i memorize his face, i know his joys and pains even before he express them...and surprise!, i wrote (and still writing) all his messages since year 2000. and i mean ALL. i got me several bounded papers where all his messages are written. one anniversary, i showed them to him. he was shocked or amused or amazed or touched or everything in one. but this isn't about him right? this is about me. oh my. how do i?

okay. as always. i'd go for what's first to come to me...1-2-3. aha! (lightbulb) - his usual schedule! nah, this isn't just an ordinary schedule, it's a schedule he adopted 'coz i am not (physically) present. yes. unlike other husbands, he was ever so willing to let me go (temporarily) and take care of himself, the house, our dear boyman wowa alone. it's not really like going away, i am just on my sabbatical, sadly in a university 2-hour flight away from home and the fare is so expensive especially for an ordinary college teacher like me, hence, can't go home as much as i/we wanted to.

here's it: (the sked! you forgot? LOL. i write down all his messages remember? those were my references for this)

0430 am - alarm on. time to stretch and jog on post.
0500 am - wake up wowa, assist him in preparing (bath, changing to school uniform, checking the school bag for everything he needs for the entire day) while he cooks breakfast for them and lunch for wowa (he has to bring lunch to school).
0620 am - breakfast and time to prepare himself (bath, uniform - sometimes he has to iron the uniforms first when he forgets to do so on weekends et. cet.)
0640 am - time to clean-up a bit, have his bike (motorcycle) ready  and drive to send off wowa to school
0730 am - drive his way to work, if he arrives earlier than the gatekeeper, he prepares his itenerary (by the stairs) or sms chat with me.


0800 am - it's fieldwork time. he goes to several customers, checks on their account, reminds them of their dues (this he does rain or shine, and when you're living in gensan --rain really rains and shine is shine that burns)
1130 am - he drives off back to our house, make a decent meal for himself (sometimes he buys from a nearby kitchenette) and have his lunch, occassionally sending me sms about how the morning went and what he is having and asking me what i'm having for lunch.
1230 pm - he sleeps (siesta time) for a while.


0130 pm - he does the dishes (used during breakfast and lunch, and when he cooks, that means a lot of dishes plus cooking utensils to wash)
0230 pm - back to fieldwork.
0330 pm - he makes the day's report at the office, checks on other files, tracks on his progress for the week and/or talk to his workmates about their funny experiences in the field and sometimes at home.
0500 pm - after time-off from work, he drives straight to wowa's school to fetch him (wowa waits for about an hour at the library, or at the playground).


0515 pm - he talks to his friend (father of wowa's classmate julia) while they wait for them as the tutor helps the two in their assignments (he decided to do so when he keeps on falling asleep, tired from the day's work when supervising wowa busy with his assignments).
0645 pm - they pass by a nearby wet market to buy meat, fish or veggies to cook for supper or the next day (he likes them from the market rather than from the ref).
0700 pm - he cooks dinner while wowa plays outside with the neighboring kids.
0730 pm - they eat their supper. wowa helps clean up, hub does the dishes (sometimes with the wash machine on).
0830 pm - as wowa prepares his school things for the next day, it's TV time for both.
0900 pm - his DVD movie time while jogging on post sometimes; sleeptime for wowa (this is our usual phone bonding time too, 'til he gets so sleepy, we pray together and exchange iloveyous, imissyous and goodnights).


1000 pm - his usual goodnight (or if there's something in the wash machine, he rinses the laundry by hand). at 1200 mn or 0200 am i sometimes get sms from him tellng me that he woke up to drink water and that wowa is sound asleep...or he sms me at 300 am telling me wowa has bouts of cough and that vicks and blanket helped ease it.

on saturdays, it's almost as usual except for the need to leave wowa at my mother's house since it's not a school day. on sundays, they clean house or wash/iron clothes or visit friends, or take time off for malling (groceries or movies when there's extra funds) and bonding.

that's it. that's how the hero works day in, day out 'coz we noticed expenses are less when there's no househelp. they have managed and coping for years now (with occassional help from my mother too). hopefully by midyear i'd be back home and ease up my hero's sked. come valentines, we'd celebrate it far from each other again but with him and with our dear wowa  everyday is valentines :)