Makulit Ka Ba?

I was cleaning my room just in time for welcoming the New Year, when my niece barged in.

She crawled all over the place.

She touched everything.

She shouted.

She laughed.

She basically messed up what was already a mess to begin with.

You see, she’s just four years old.

And when you’re four, you feel that the whole world revolves around you.

While she was doing a great job in cluttering the place up, and distracting me from the task at hand, she would ask questions like “What’s this?” or “What are you doing?” or “What’s this for?” And she wouldn’t stop there.

She would say it a hundred times over.

Around the corner, she’d also say “Look Uncle Migoy! Look! Look!” Until I would really, honestly, crane my neck and look, she wouldn’t stop.

In short, she’s makulit.

(C’mon, you know what I’m trying to picture out here.)

Then I heard something unexpected.

She stepped on my pile of books, and blurted out “I’m sorry!” in her cute and high-pitched voice. “That’s okay,” I’d say.

Then she edged over my heap of dirty clothes, and again, “Oops, sorry!” she said.

And over and over again, when she would touch what isn’t allowed to be touched, and when she would kick what isn’t allowed to be kicked, her “Sorry” was like music to my ears.

But you know what the best part is?

I never got angry.

Actually, it kept me entertained.

With my two words, ‘that’s okay,’ she knew she was out of danger.

Even though I wanted to send her out and ban her for life for entering my room, my heart just couldn’t take the kulit-cuteness.

I wasn’t able to finish fixing my room because of that.

But hey, that kept me thinking.

Aren’t we the same with God?

We keep on stepping on his Books, kicking his Things, and scattering our mess all over the Place.

We make wrong decisions.

We waste so much time.

We struggle with so many temptations, half of which, we don’t even resist.

But I know that we have a big God.

A God who is ready to forgive us no matter how messed up we are.

A God who is ready to accept us, because in his eyes, we are but four year olds: clumsy, impulsive, and thoughtless four-year-olds.

At times we would hesitate to say sorry, especially when we know that we meant those wrong deeds, but how many of us would say sorry nonetheless –

For whatever graces it might bring us?

It’s just like tugging at the shirt of your mom, saying sorry for eating the last piece of cake, when in fact she was just letting you taste her share.

It’s just like snuggling up the shoulder of your girlfriend when she’s nagtatampo because you took too long playing DOTA at the computer shop.

It’s just like telling your teacher how clumsy you were because you slept late, and forgot to properly punctuate your sentences, and needed a second chance.

It’s being makulit because you know somewhere in that person’s heart is the chance to forgive.

We have all been makulit the past year – just like four-year-olds.

But the question is, have we also been makulit in looking at the wrong things we did, and saying ‘sorry’ for them?

Because I’m sure we already made a whole lot of mess in our lives.

And if I, human as I am, had the heart to turn a blind eye to my little niece’s quirks, how much more does God turn his loving heart towards us, if only we tug on his shirt, and persistently say “I’m Sorry”?

But don’t get me wrong.

This doesn’t mean that those two words are enough.

Just like how your boyfriend wants you to stop being too clingy when it comes to his private life, or like how your dad wants you to become more useful around the house, God expects our ‘sorry’ to also come with change.

And what better way to change, than to tell Him you’ll start this New Year?

No worries.

Who says God will leave you alone?

Be makulit.

Say sorry.

Change for the better.

Happy New Year!

Picking up the Fragments

When we were students, we never thought that our teachers themselves had recollections.
All we knew was that every Tuesday during the examination week, classes would be canceled, and we would pound our minds on our books and notes, attempting to "integrate" everything for the coming exams. Little did I know that while i was at home, anxious about the three-day agony, my teachers were doing some "integrating" on their own.

Its quite amusing that I only knew about this now that i am part of the faculty myself.

And just today, while all of my students were doing what i did six years and so ago, i was enjoying a different privilege of taking my time out with God.

Our half-day recollection was facilitated by Fr. Ben Borja, SDB, in the Small Chapel of the school. He shared his reflections on Jesus as the Model Educator. He enumerated eight points by which we, Salesian Educators, could take Jesus as our model in teaching. Getting his premise from the maxim: "nemo dat non quod habet," or "we cannot give what we do not have," he points out that we teachers should get our inspiration from the Holy Spirit Himself, instead of exhausting ourselves in a mere daily "performance" for the boys.

I was struck by many points. The greatest of them, being the question: "What is my reason for teaching?"

I got fixed right there. I know that i've answered this question a lot of times, and have convinced myself that i had the correct answer all along. But why was i still stuck with this fundamental question to myself? Am I too fixed in the past that i fail to look for new answers? Am I asking too much of myself that merely satisfying the question is never at hand? What is my motivation? What is my driving force? What has put me, and has kept me going through these trying months?

There i was, sitting alone in the chapel. Asking. Thinking. Meditating.

But i never got an answer.

I think i broke myself into a little too many fragments since the school year started. And "recollecting" them in such a short time was very insufficient. Its just like what my spiritual director told me: answers to everything don't come when you expect it. it is like catching a butterfly: the more you move and the more you try to catch it, the more it will fly away. But once you sit down and stay completely still, even without you knowing it, it will come to you.

The main point of a recollection is precisely to "collect again." To collect the memories, fragments, and events of my life and "integrate" it into something which will make me a better person. Tonight, my recollection does not end. i hope that when i come back to school tomorrow, for the first day of the exams, i would be able to see the very inspiration which led me and gave me strength to educate with Jesus' heart: my students.

Teaching College

I went back to Don Bosco Canlubang just to get my transcipt and diploma. little did i know that the teacher-scarcity phenomenon is still raging. Without hesitation, our school registrar asked, nay, pleaded me to teach at least one subject in their english curriculum. And after much thought, i gave in. i took the dreaded World Literature to occupy me while waiting for my real job in Don Bosco Mandaluyong.
The course was apparently compressed to fifteen days. what's more, i would be dealing not with English Majors, rather, with Technical Education majors, all incoming fourth years. Whoa! i said. could i teach a crash course on world lit to a bunch of guys who might not even be able to use this in real life?
But what the heck. i need a little brushing up on my literary assets anyway. So i took the challenge, more for my development.

So far, we've just finished Ancient and Medieval literature, and we're midway with the Renaissance era. It just amazes me how brilliant these guys could be. Well, aside from coming late sometimes, i'm able to squeeze out juicy and pragmatic ideas from them. As a teacher, this is the only and the greatest consolation: that in the end, you form these young people to get the best out of life.
Looking from another perspective, i'm not yet qualified to teach college, but it's rather bringing out the best in me too. slowly, im starting to learn techniques like having to be strict in the classroom, sticking to rules and being consistent, which would be of great use for me once i step inside the High School environment.

Six days of class have gone, and so far, i'm looking forward to the remaining nine. Thank God, the PASSION hasn't burned out.

My First EDSA Experience

I've traveled that road a million times since I was a child.
But this time, it was like i was treading on alien soil.

We left for our lola's house in Quezon City at 2pm today, and, already seated in the car were my two brothers: Ponso at the very back of our Innova, and Gaboy in the co-pilot's chair. I surmised that neither Mama nor Papa would do the driving, so with jittery hands and sweaty feet, i hopped on and took the dare.
Going to Quezon City from Mandaluyong was easiest via EDSA. And EDSA has never been a pretty sight for me. But with no holds barred, i drove off, ever mindful of my gear-changing, my footwork and the occasional bastards dotting the lanes of EDSA.

It was an exhilarating experience having to sit behind the wheel. i observed THREE THINGS, which i never took notice of before:
1. The lanes in the infamous EDSA are never straight. they'd curve a little to the right at one point, then a little to the left at another. the most scary part is that it even grows narrow. and this calls for extra maneuvering work. (phew!)
2. My maximum speed is 60 kph. (okay, so i can hear your snickering now...) two things: its better to be slow than sorry, and, I'm just a neophyte.
3. (This is connected to #2) People really don't mind if you're slow. Yes, they'll overtake you and stuff, but it's really an each-to-his-own-car world out there. whether you drive at top speed or turtle behind the others, just as long as you dont hit anyone, stall at the middle of the road or change lanes without making any signal whatsoever, you're pretty sure that you'll come out alive.

Im grateful that we did come out alive after that grueling 45 minute drive. and im also thatnkful because today, i've grown a little more out of my hollow shell.

A GOOD Friday

Reminiscing old times has always taken my breath away.

I left for Don Bosco Canlubang last March 21, Good Friday, to join the seminary community in celebrating Holy Week. After packing my things at gunpoint, my brother drove me to the bus station where I only had an hour and thirty to beat if i wanted to catch the 3 PM Veneration of the Cross. why was i rushing from Manila to Laguna at such a time? Obedience. I accepted a request of our Parish Priest to share a reflection on one of the Last Words of Christ: "Woman, behold your son... (Son,) behold your Mother."

Giving that talk was a blessing in disguise. Not because it was another crowning achievement, but because i needed that wake up call from the Mother of God herself. From the inside-out, it speaks of a time-tested relationship: that of a mother to her son and a son to her mother. And this was exactly what i needed.

Summing up my short sharing, i zeroed into the value of Commitment. specifically: Commitment to Jesus even in times of trial. You see, Mary and John were not just entrusted to each other, but Mary and John were, at the outset, in a place where they were not supposed to be: at the foot of the cross of a criminal. Mary's mere sight of Jesus should have her knees shudder with agony. The mere presence of an apostle to his master should have made John an easy target of suspicion. But they were both there, committed to their Lord even in the darkest and most terrifying of times.

Ironically, too, it speaks of my own sense of commitment. Do I know how to stand by Jesus at the foot of his cross? Whenever i choose sin to sacrifice, i abandon Jesus. Whenever i don't make relationships work, i disown my relationship with Him. Whenever i choose the easy way out instead of going through inevitable pains in life, I kiss Jesus goodbye and leave him for another false love.

This was the first of my realizations this day. the others were still to come as the day grew longer...

Grace made its way to me as i reached the gates of the school just in the nick of time, and safely. Actually i was a bit late, but i didn't miss any crucial parts yet. with hesitation, i disappeared into the crowd of seminarians and ex-seminarians like me, who were in the choir loft. a potion of inexpressible joy and anticipation gurgled in me as i smiled and curiously waved my accommodating hand once in a while to greet old acquaintances. I was there for a purpose, i whispered to myself. and it was to bring back life to my already-dying sense of Commitment to God.

As the cross was being unveiled in front of us, we sang, as we were made to. ever since i entered the seminary, Good Friday celebrations were my cup of tea, and these all slowly came back to me. "I used to be the one covering that cross..." "i used to be the one running here and there, orchestrating the movements of the servers and making sure everything was in place..." "i used to be a very big part of this..." And as i see things unfolding right before my eyes, the best and least thing i could do was to pray and relish the moment with Jesus.

We were supposed to "exit the church in silence," as the rubics indicated, but i couldn't help but get together with my batchmates, bestfriends, brothers who were there, sharing the same purpose with me. I, Marnel, Joseph, Edward, Ryan, Ronel, six from the original batch of sixteen, were all there to both catch up on the latest news and refresh their relationship with God. smiling faces were all around, even though a most solemn commemoration of the Suffering and Death of Christ had just preceded. With us together, we made our way to the Stations of the Cross and to the rest of the schedule.

The night grew darker as we joined the wake of the mother of our Rector, Fr. Rolo, which was in the bungalow adjacent to the Cogliandro House. I was able to once again relish my ties with Juvelan, my classmate in High School, who now happens to be one of the prenovices this year. I also had the chance to be with my classmates and just enjoy their company.

Recalling the many events of the day has made me quite tired. but just sitting down and 'being' made my day complete. i realized too that i didn't have to "be part of the action" to be able to feel the weight of things on me.

Looking at things again, Jesus was likewise "being" with the whole world when he suffered and carried that cross for us. and because of this, he was able to relish, feel, experience every part of our humanness in order to save us.

Dreaming Big...

This would be the "feel" of my Dream Bedroom... Enjoy!

Long overdue...

It's March, and the summer sun is starting to seep in.

Everyone knows that i no longer belong to the "hallowed" grounds of the seminary. i made my final decision and officially stepped out last February 2, complete with despedida parties and farewell wishes.

Tonight, one month and fifteen days after, i still am convinced that i made a God-blessed decision.

Flew so fast, time. And with it, silent moments, reflected events, budding acquaintances, lifelong friends, a feather on the hat, rare opportunities, a simple life.

Wow. i never thought i missed so much. but as the adage goes, when we close a door we open another. And true enough, i have been equally blessed with events which proved my capacity to do thus. i havent been well through my two-month break, but God has already given me a chance to work and make good use of myself and my expertise. i tutored a grade six student from International School and with it, brushed up on my college major. a little while after that, i was offered a post in Don Bosco Canlubang in the College English Department. in a little more than two weeks, i would be handling World Literature for their summer term. Not to be neglected, too, is my acceptance to a more permanent vocation in teaching in my High School alma mater. Come May, i would be part of their English Department, and would be battling nay, collaborating with the energetic yet infamous bosconians.

I have never had a need for speed. yet all these are taking me by surprise. well, i guess the meek, silent, opportunity-waiter Miguel has changed. Change being taken as a relative term.

On the sideline, i have also been engaged in studying how to drive. My two brothers are excellent AND very sarcastic driving instructors, which make them fit well with my driving skills (imagine the agony i go through!). I may be well underway in getting my first non-pro driver's license this week.
i have also been working out in the gym. i've been at it for a couple of weeks now, and you wouldnt believe the progress i'm making! (four pounds lost in every session -- WOW! ...and a hundred pounds gained in every meal!!) no, but seriously, thank God for our bodies! in a way, we really have something tangible to care for (that implies the necessity of spiritual workouts too!).
modesty aside, i have also been invited to give talks to various groups here and there. these boost my public-speaking skills, and are a good source of income if you fall under the Occupationally-Challenged category of the Young People of the Republic of the Philippines (in short, a bum).

well, i think this wraps up what has been "long overdue." i just needed to take a breather and put into writing the things which would definitely go down to the annals of history.

if this sounded egocentric, wait till you meet the author.

Nah, just kidding... he's a humble, silent, shy-type, (VOICE OVER fades into the background), G*d-feari*g, frie*dly, (VOICE OVER diminishes more), und*rst*nd*n**, c*r**ng, (TOTAL SILENCE...)

Toooot...

"From that time on...

...Jesus began to preach and say, "Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand."

These are not my words.
I copied it from Matthew, as he speaks of the beginnings of Jesus' Galilean mission in his Gospel.
But in so doing, i am making it Mine too.

The events were quick and unstoppable. during the last few weeks before our submission of our application letter, i was even very excited about what would happen in a few months time. Little did i know that God was preparing something more for me.
It so happened that a wake up call jolted me out of my dream mode, which, apparently i have been in all throughout these past years. the event (i should not mention details, lest my decision might take on a bad light) was a blessing in disguise and my saving grace. it was sooner than i thought that i realized only one thing: Have i really, concretely, convincingly made up my mind to become a Salesian, or am i still prancing around, hoping, one day to don the ego-enhancing cassock, take on the letters SDB, and walk home and say: "Look at me! I'm different now!"?
seriously, i know i haven't.
i haven't even thought about an alternative life if anything possibly goes wrong! i always thought, no, rather, i have always been made to think that this is the only life for me.
And taking this as the premise of everything, my motivations are still in that 'first year seminarian' stage, only now, justified in so many other ways.

This is where the roller coaster ride began.
I looked back at the nine months of "living the life" and i say, Gosh! i dont even think i'm enjoying this anymore (i dont want to hurt anyone in saying this, take this with a grain of salt, and read in- between the lines). of course i have been doing the most extraordinary things, experiencing the most unique of encounters, and have been taking on privileges that i never even thought a Salesian is entitled to have!
I read and re-read my novitiate journal, and i could tell you frankly, with evidence at hand, that since day One, i have been feeling ill about something. i could sense that something was wrong. It was a good thing that i was able to let pass nine months before coming to a conclusion, lest i would be living in a despondent subterranean desert, arid and cold, with no road to turn to.
I prayed and sought peace where it beckoned me. With God's grace and all of your prayers, i know that I have made the best decision i could make both in my life now and in the lives of the people around me.

Matthew's words, "From that time on..." is actually an antecedent to another line, which talks about the arrest of John the Baptist and Jesus' consequent loneliness. it reads: "When Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee..."
a cause. an effect.
a missing. a mission.
an end. a new beginning.

i dont like the former, because im tired of hearing people say, "Sayang!" or "Bakit?" I think i'm well over those, and i want to be where i should be: at the start of something new.
thanks for hearing me out.
Lets pray for each other.

Lolo and Lola Darling FEVER! - Cebu Edition

I was able to frolic away from home today.
Lola and Lolo Darling spread their fever again as they visited me here in Cebu, vis a vis their convention preparation at Parklane Hotel. They picked me up around 9:30 and we sped away to Ayala, Cebu, for a day with them.

We talked about alot of things over snacks in Mcdo.
There was the topic on Taric, also on the red alert in Manila.
Then I also took the chance of shopping for my immediate needs and toiletries, just in case we run out of them in the house.

Before we left, we strolled around for lunch at the foodcourt, and headed for last minute pasalubong.

It was a cute afternoon. I missed them alot, knowing that tomorrow is a sunday, and that the whole family will once again ransack their house in Congre, QC.

I miss those days. But little by little, we are already accepting the fact this will not go on forever. At least, with them, we all got once-in-a-lifetime memories to look back to.

I love you lolo and lola!

Do I really need to be the next Gary V.?

Its very hard to put feelings into words.
If only they had vocaularies, and they knew how to spell.

Yesterday, i sang two of my favorite songs: "How did you Know?" and "Wait Forever." They were both popularized by Gary V, no less.
But little do the public know that the composer and arranger of those songs is a Bosconian. A former Aspirant in the Salesian Seminary, at that. His name: Jude Gitamondoc. I wouldnt want to brag, but i could be the luckiest Gary V. fan out there who was able to sing those two songs with him on the keyboards.

I was in seventh heaven. (see how words could not, even by an inch, measure up to what the heart says?)

He was here yesterday, giving a Creativity Seminar to the Aspirants. After lunch break, Fr. Andy and Fr. Nioret introduced me to him, and gave me the privilege of singing with him. Of course i needed to be modest, so i made up excuses and everything, but deep inside, i was jumping for joy!
So we dashed into the sems' refectory and in no time, were belting out Gary's songs.
I felt like Josh Groban in a mini concert!

Not until i received a pat at the back, with the words: "iwawala mo pa yang bokasyon mo dyan!"
Oh, Kuya Donnie. Thanks for the wake up call!

Then i was back on the ground.
Fun. Never to be forgotten.

Josh Groban's Concert. What else can you ask for?

I was at Joh Groban's Concert.

Yup. Last night, October 17, Gala night.

My mom called me up through her cellphone around 9pm, and i had no idea what she was up to. All i could hear were orchestrations at the background and I couldnt make out the scene.

Then she spoke: "Do you hear this?"

"Yes," i said.

"Sige, makinig ka lang..."

When she says that, i'm pretty sure, i'm in for a surprise.

Then i heard a voice, speaking on the microphone.
it was not just a voice: it was the voice.
I said: "Oh my, is that Josh Groban? Are you in Josh Groban's Concert?"

And she, with an equally excited voice, whispered: "Yes! Can you imagine?!"

I knew it! And it was not the first time they've gotten complimentary tickets to concerts such as these. They were with the high ends of society, such as Piolo Pascual and Christian Bautista, to name a few.

I just couldn't but keep quiet and bask in the melodies.

Then I heard him making some spiels, and at intervals, i heard everybody's lauhter. He's a funny guy, i surmised. And not long after, he was at the piano, singing one of the latest additions to my favorites: "February Song."

Wow! Mama said that to make up for the free tickets, she would instead be the one to pay for the phone bill. And i really appreciated it right then and there.

Then i heard him sing a couple of Italian songs, not to mention his rendition of "In Her Eyes." And just right where it should be, he called Ms. Lani Misalucha to join him on stage. They sang a beautiful rendition of "The Prayer" together. And off the record, I read somewhere that Josh wasn't going to sing it on this concert hadn't Lani become his partner.

By this time, the handset was already glued to my ear, anticipating every note and every word from his show. And towards the end of the hour-long phone call, i gave myself a "last song." He then introed the song "Remember When it Rained." And it really made my day. I always thought that it was a very challenging and high song, but without flaws, he hit every single note, just as how he did in the CD.

The call ended when mama had to change phones because she was running low on batteries. but i said that that was enough for the day. I couldnt thank her enough for thinking about me, thirsting as i was for the stage and for music, in this far flung hill. She said that Josh would always remind her of me, that's why she just had to make a phone call, despite the laws of the theater.

I bade good night, but i made a last request. i wanted to see what he looked like that evening. How the stage was like. How they were like. And so i requested for a video, at least for just one song, so i could really be there.

Then, after saying my thanksgiving prayers, i hit the sack filled with the melodies of Mr. Josh Groban.

...Minus the 20,000-peso-ticket to the Orchestra seats.

How often do you get an Unexpected Visit?

I wasn't actually expecting them to arrive at that time.
But Jhile, a friend from College, surprised me at that very moment when i was clad in full football regala, towards the last minutes of our game with the aspirants.
Imagine how dirty i was and how sweaty i looked that sunday afternoon, September 31.
But hey, a friend is a friend, no matter how you look.

She took three days off work, and visited Cebu (why Cebu? ...dont ask me). She brought along two companions, both her classmates from USTe and, together with it, lots of stories.
We exchanged exclamations while she introduced Juvy and Mark. Of course, with my best suit on and all, i led them up the Novitiate hill so i could change into better clothes while they toured the place.

I was very glad that i have friends from the "real world" visiting me here. It's like a refresher: just when you thought that you had problems, you see them, and you're like "hey! God has blessed me (and all of us) with different crosses to carry, after all!"
We talked about work, old friends, life, (she said "next question please..." when i asked about Love life...), plans, and all other stuff we missed back in those good ol' days.
They reqeusted if they could stay until 9ish, and i certainly agreed.
I bet that they hadn't herd mass that Sunday, so i invited them to join the celebration of our Cebuano Youth Mass down at the DBFC chapel. Afterwards, they joined the vespers with the whole community.

We prepared dinner for the three of them, but sadly, they had to go. everyone pleaded with them to stay, but they were getting rather late, and they had to meet a friend at SM. it was about 8:00, and i also surmise that they were a bit shy to join us.
So i hailed a taxi for them and saw them off to SM. With a final embrace, i said "keep in touch!" and wished them a safe trip and a blessed life.

It's not often that i receive friends who really go out of their way to see me. usually, YM or email or friendster will do. But it is in these very exceptional cases where i see true friends apart from the rest. Thanks!

At the End of the Tunnel

I have been riding the dregs the past two weeks.
So many unsettled issues, unanswered questions and untamed instincts have been popping out of my mind and have been haunting me whether the life I'm treading is for real, mere baloney.

I was at the height of it all when my mom called me over the phone, via long distance. I told her that my heart was once again in connivance with my mind, arguing whether or not i would stay as a novice, or I would go ahead and find my life which i thought i lost more than four years ago.
I told her that i wanted to stay, but i really felt that i needed to go out.
I told that to my classmates too, and to my Novice Master.
And so far, I havent gotten an answer.
But at least I learned two very important lessons.
First, being open about all of these is an enormous help. Ever since I was able to put a handle on it, i seemed to be in control. I felt that it was not only me handling the problem, but that my whole community is helping me solve it, or at least get over with it.

Second, although i realized to my demise, that the six months i have been spending here have all been in vain, i was affirmeed that whether i would leave or stay, i would have to back it up with a firm and deep motivation. These are not anymore the days of song and dance. I dont want to spend another day here just because of the company, the friendship, the peace and security. Nor do i want to spend another day outside just because of the freedom, the fame, the money and the family i would miss having.


I have to stand up to a more solid motivation. One that would hold me and say you're not living your life today for no reason at all. This is not a one-day-at-a-time life. This is a life meant to prepare you for your real life: in heaven.

Over and above all these, one image comes to mind. The light at the end of the tunnel.

It says to me never to give up. That even though it is dark, even though it is wet and muddy, even though it is a long way out, there will always be that small glimmer of light, of hope, meant to push you forward.

And that's what's keeping me. The hope that there is and will always be the light at the end of all these.

February Song (Josh Groban) and ME!

Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won't be long
Til he opens his eyes,
opens his eyes

Where is that simple day
Before colors broke into shades
And how did I ever fade
Into this life,
into this life

And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
When all that I've known is lost and found
I promise you I, I'll come back to you one day

Morning is waking up
And sometimes it's more than just enough
When all that you need to love
Is in front of your eyes
It's in front of your eyes

And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
Sometimes it's hard to find the ground
Cause I keep on falling as I try to get away
From this crazy world

Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won't be long
Til he opens his eyes
Opens his eyes

I sang this for Mary on our Special Rosary tribute on her Birthday last Saturday. i took alot of time trying to figure out the lyrics of the song and relating it to Mary... alam mo naman, kailangang i-forcing through! But as i was listening to it again and again, (and with the help of online sources...) i realized that it was really ME.
I am my own Old Friend.
maybe i left him when i grew up and became the complcated, masked and superficial Me that i am now. Where is he? i ask. because my relationships, my work, my vocation is slowly crumbling down if i dont go back to the MIGUEL that i was.

I want to love.
i want to be loved.
but forgive me if i slip away and find myself first.

Ranting and Raving in completely wrong timing

Mary’s birthday offering has just turned black for me.
We’re having a special rosary tonight at the façade of our novitiate house. “Music. Verse. Prayers.” It was conceptualized by Donnie, and is being put, piece by piece, by all of us, little by little.
It’s just so overwhelming that everyone has poured his best (or at least as what I have seen) into practicing his own item for our Lady. Guitar strings have been endlessly strumming, piano keys have been incessantly playing, and oral practices for poetry reading has been underway.
But were not people of the nitty-gritty detail.
We forget things, we miss out on communication, we fall short on foresight.

Yesterday, we had a scolding from our Socius about our proposal to get the work time to finalize the flow of the program and to set up things that are needed for the program. Before being allowed (it was not even a granted permission, on the contrary, a “forced” granted permission: the one you hear after saying the words: “what can we do? You’re late already...”) we had a piece of his mind regarding the sanctity of work time.
Manual work = sacred time.
He was trying to make a point that we had a lot of Free Time this week, and that taking the sacred Work Time (or Study Period, or Prayer Time, or all the other Times for that matter) wasn’t an excuse. And over and above that, we had to have foresight. Planning.

I believe that I’ve gotten a gazillion remarks in the seminary about time management. We let things enter one ear and out the other. There were no violent reactions on our part – I managed to keep my mouth shut – so the scolding vis a vis conference was cut short.

We were able to do the rundown that afternoon. He was there. More suggestions were made. Comments here and there. And we managed to come out with “satisfactory” colors.

Thinking again who says we have Free Time in the first place?
Yes, some of our professors may have been out, but it doesn’t mean that they didn’t leave us with a workload to do.
Noble and I were juggling our Salesianity requirements with this program. Donnie is rushing the Inside Out while compiling texts for the event. Bonnie is just too full with hobbies and personal reports that he too was busy to push the plan forward.
...It’s a good thing that we didn’t have internet for the past days, otherwise, nothing of this sort would even have materialized.

Summing these rants and raves, which is just too heavy to keep and sulk about, it’s just too bad that we weren’t able to give our justification why we had to use that particular work time... and probably the one of today too.
I learned that working is part of a Community Activity. If your work, whether sweeping the lawn, taking out the trash bin, dusting of the cabinets, contributes to the whole welfare of the Community, then you are doing your work just right.
What more can you expect from four individuals, preparing for a birthday offering to Mary, and who need to set up chairs and plants, cook food and finalize all effects, if not for them to do just that? I think sweeping the fallen leaves or arranging the kitchen stockroom or watering the plants can wait, no matter how important they may be, if you are needed to do something right here, right now.

So it’s not that easy to judge us as “people without a planning mentality” or “people without foresight” if you merely look into our situation. Aapat na nga lang kami, pagwawalisin mo pa ng damo pag nakita mo nang nasusunog ang bahay.

late!

It wasnt the first time i skipped games on a sunday.
well, i didnt actually skip it this time, nevertheless, i was late.

very Filipino.
very Me.

I dont know why i dont see anything wrong with being late. maybe it has been ingrained in me that two, three, five minutes of absence wont change or wont hurt anybody.
well, this time, i got something out of being late.

Our sunday DBYC apostolate ends at 4PM. i had KOA practice at three, ended about five minutes to four, and had to attend to individual KOA concerns of the boys. and just before i thought i was free and could play, one of the small boys of the group said that he forgot something up in the now-barred choir loft of the chapel.
so i said, oh, well, what's two or three minutes to assist this boy in getting his stuff?

it was already four o'two by then.

right after we found the keys (that is, after frantically running here and there looking for the key-holder), our friend and batchmate extern-novice Edward, was shouting my name from afar and making BIG gestures, saying, you've got to go to the field and start playing! Fr. Niorz is already fired up, because you're late!

without asking anythig, i knew i was guilty.
and after four months of not being scolded, i relished that feeling which surged into my veins saying patay! lagot nanaman ako! what's my excuse this time?

I bade goodbye to the kid, making sure he got what he needed, and ran, no actually walked in a guilty-looking manner, up the novitiate hill. i was hiding my shame with a smile, when, as if in perfect timing, we passed the football field, and i saw my novice master calling me from afar.
i walked up to him. guilty, but knew that i had nothig to be afraid of. he's not a type who's going to eat you alive, and in public.

he asked me a few questions and made his point. Budget your time. this is not the fist time that happened. and sent me off to suit up.

and on that long, upward walk from the field to the novitiate house, i couldnt but smile and acknowledge my guilt. it was, i think, for the first time, when i didnt have any hard feelings and grumbles after a scolding. it was during that short time, that i felt i had overcome my agressiveness, and just accepted the fact that i was WRONG.

i've never been at home with that realization. because many times, i cover my mistakes with justifications, with ill-feelings, with counter-attacks to the one who corrected me. but at least for that one big and noble moment, i think i just felt what it was like to be humble.
Accepting.
Acknowledging.
Pledging to do better next time.

first time

we had variation mass this evening...
just like what we usually do every thursday evening.
and we offered it for our employees, workers and staff (i think they only mean one thing...)

but i had a variation myself.
i attempted to accompany the songs with the guitar...

hehehe...
wasnt able to do all the songs though, i only know the major chords, plus the chord pattern of D.
darn.

but im trying, im trying!

it was cool...:)

new blog!

It took me some more prodding before kuya Donnie got me to create my own blog.
actually he didnt have anything to do with this. i was just envious about the way he treats his blog "his own."
and i was like: "i could do that too!"

so here it is.
actually, i had a blog, but it was long forgotten because i made it during those days i was cramming with my thesis and practice teaching exactly a year ago, in DB Canlubang. it was also entitled Curtain Call: as a whole, it speaks bout my passion for the stage - above all, the rush whenever i get to take a bow after i have sang and danced my heart out...
but taken with a deeper meaning, it speaks about a call, MY call, from Someone from above.
its like its saying to me that after everything ive said, done, and caused here on earth, i'd have to take that final bow in front of the Great Judge and Merciful Savior, Jesus Christ.

Hope you like it.
indeed, theres no need for an applause.
id rather have it in heaven.