Walking with Mischief in My Eyes

(5 months, 17 days)

I've been missing the walks I used to take everyday in New York City.
In the suburbs of LA, unless I make a conscious effort to park far from a store entrance or take my lunch time walks, there isn't really much opportunity to let my mind wander anymore. As a result, I feel heavier in mind, body, and soul.

In a sense, I have lost my strut.
...that fabulous swagger that New Yorkers are proud of.
...that necessary quick footing that kept me quick-witted and fit.
...that confident stride that attacked life.



I will resume walking in the mornings and getting connected to myself again.

A lot of fresh air and people watching can only do me good. Besides, in the great Metropolis of Whittier, I am in no real danger of walking in and out of boutiques with great finds. At best, I would walk away having found myself.

The Morning After

(5 months and 24 days)

Many times I have been stunted by my own preconceived notions and expectations. I am currently facing my own redefinition. And boy, the ride is bumpy.

A few loved ones reminded me last week that I need to be able to recognize the opportunities---even when they don't come perfectly wrapped, and accessorized.

Given the state of the economy, most people are having to mutate rapidly, looking for ways to transform themselves to stay relevant. And in my case especially, mid last year I set out for a goal and now I am finding myself many notches away. I realize now that I need to quickly reprogram my thinking. I should recognize "potential" when it presents itself. Or atleast be willing enough to say "hello" and have a fling with it (of course, this does not apply to drugs, or "bad news" boys).

I've been guilty of prematurely snuffing things out because all I could see were the negatives. When often times, blessings are in disguise. I want to train my heart and mind to see the good that comes my way and accentuate the positive.

I want to see a vision of the AFTER, before I get scared of the BEFORE.

(Wonderchair AFTER)


(Wonderchair BEFORE, as featured in March 5's entry: Vanessa in Wonderland)


For I am sure the great Michelangelo never looked at a stone and thought, "Nope, not polished enough".
He buffed and shined it until it was great.

It's Never Too Early To Miss Someone

(6 months and 1 day)
It has been about a month now since my last entry and I'm really sorry about that. But do know that while I haven't posted, the growth work has not stopped. If anything, it was at its speediest. For you see, it was a time I felt I needed to just be within my thoughts.
Let me explain. About a month ago, my mom left to stay in the Philippines for good. And while on a daily basis you could frequently hear me screaming in frustration after we hang up from a phone conversation, the simple truth is I love my mom.
The night I watched her make the turn for the security check, I couldn't stop crying. She was not going to be "easy access" anymore. And while one would think I would have exhaled a sigh of relief after months of torturous arguments and stress over her move, I found myself deeply saddened.


There, was a woman who loved me so, and accepted me for all that I was. She might nag me and make me feel guilty, but at the end of the day, she's been there for me.
That afternoon, we were still shopping for her last minute supplies, and in all our stops, for every cream she bought for herself, she'd get me a moisturizer. For every multi-vitamin, she would buy me Calcium supps to leave on my kitchen table.

My dad, was always the practical man. A cardiologist who has worked hard throughout the years. While he is a science man, he is moreso a religious man. He always made "responsible decisions". Just as he would always wear iron pressed pajamas to bed. As reserved as he is, in his weekly calls, I could feel the love. Although by the end of it, I am dying from hearing, "pray the rosary every night", for the umpteenth time.

In my career life throughout the years, both my parents have been very supportive of all my decisions. A great deal of them, they didn't necessary understand, but they knew creatively I needed to pursue them. And since most of the last 12 years I have been very busy everyday, I know that I have numbed a part of me that would soften with every phone call they made.

But life is short, and as I turn 40, my parents turn 70. It is time for me to really pay attention to them.
So I will learn to enjoy every overbearing phone call, get amused by run on e-mails full of complaints, and appreciate the heard-it-many-times-over lectures on health and financial stability. If I had all that time all those years to listen to my clients' hackneyed comments, I sure as hell have time to entertain whatever my parents toss my way.

I will miss them now, instead of later.