I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness-- Jeremiah 3:3

Saturday, June 25, 2011


It's plain crazy. I used to think that getting the simple things and sticking to them are nothing but a piece of cake.

Irony of all ironies, it's the simple things that are the toughest to stick to in this pandemonium of a world--the basic clothing, not the trendy wears that would pass as weird velvety body draperies; the plain red lipstick and blush-ons, not the concealers nor the glimmer sticks; the functional cellular phone not the internet-laden apple phone gadgets or what have you; a pair of pearl studs, not the dozen "sparkle and dangle"; a staple purse or black hand bag instead of a satiny or snake-skinned class A imitation of a Louis Vuitton piece--all these and many more are, believe me, hard to come by this day and age.

Keeping with the basic gets me a little short of deranged these days. When the budget calls for the simplest of the simple, we blame our struggles to keep up with the mean race with the trends on the governance of a few who wallow in luxury (or so it seems). We thought life is hard. It's a world of hard-knocks here. The climb is tough.

Well, for years (which is not that many), seeking the simple joys in life teaches me how illusive the world of simple things and simple men indeed are. It breaks my heart each time the vain woman in me steals a peek on an intricately designed pair of dangles or studs, which after a minute or two of refusing inside, this woman dashes and grabs them for dear life. Each time, after shelling out the much-earned hundreds of pesos, I usually slump myself in the jeepney seat and die because again and again I turn a deaf ear to my new resolve to choose to live the simple life.

Lately, working in the mountains have brought me amazing peace and some quietude. The simplicity of life here with its greens and mountain breeze have healed my perennial arthritis and sore back, more so my usually toxin-clogged head. I used to bury my head to paper works and endless job-related "unpredictables" in my city job. The amount of work here is more like the same to what I used to have. And yes,I can enumerate hundreds of similarities but as to why the energy I bring with me every time I go down after a day's work is doubled and would equal to that of the youth's I can't exactly explain. I'm nearing my fourth decade but it feels so new every day. While it is true that I don't get to see the goings-on down there while the sun's up but when you're happy you don't miss what you left somewhere.

But then again keeping to what works here, how the simple stuff really works and then I go down to the city and then I get to see many lovely things (or so I thought)the wrestling bout begins. It's a tough thing to overhaul in a jiffy a life like mine--overturning tables and corners of what used to be filled with wasteful lifestyle and useless trinkets here and there is not at all easy. But I'm learning.

This process I go through is therapeutic. I'm still trying to pursue the simple stuff. I fall short, yes. Once in a while. You see, it's these simple things I'm trying to keep up with that are not in any way simple. It's a tough fight against the urge, against the addiction, against the vanity. But the mountain life here is a real salvation with what I'm pursuing.

Lately, an offer came to work somewhere where going up on the ladder scheme of what they label as promotion and success are an inch away, where prestige awaits. That and more. But what do I care of "those and more"? It will only shorten my joys, my life, my daughter's life, probably even my husband's (who think I'm more vavavoom these days!). I am still at a rehabilitation in the mountains I call my simple life. So why bother!

Wednesday, June 1, 2011


It's amazing how time is reduced to the vulnerability of a dewdrop that hangs for one precarious moment and then goes away as though it was never there.

Four years. And yet being married to the father of my toddler has never been so suspenseful but worth everything I laid aside for good. At times, the little good things I had in the years I was with my past joys are tempting to go back to--things like former work stations, people I had grown to be comfortable with and the like--which of course includes the perks, the money, the bonuses, and the travels I so sorely miss. But ah, just what are these things? On the surface, with all the compounding financial needs and the endless clamor against the skyrocketing increase of commodities plus the seeming need to catch up with the latest technological gadgets and toys the third-world public is crazy with these days, it is so easy to take a step back to the old world where life was easier. But minus my husband and my little Kiny, I'd rather forget the time warp! I'd rather wallow in the simplicity of life here than go through life again in the desert.

Four years had been wonderful. A little less like a quiet country paradise where you only worry how to answer your two-year-old's query why the sensation of "itch" is not equivalent to "pain." Or why a mosquito's bite is itchy and an ant's is painful and itchy at the same time. Oh, and how to cook a kinamunggayang utan with tanglad from a neighbor's garden just to cater to your man's insatiable appetite for law-oy.