THE SHADOWS OF SUMMER

Summer left without the perennial camping that we usually have.  It left without me inhaling the dust, flavored by a year's worth of decaying leaves that fell from trees that act as natural umbrellas to a remote inland location where actors and film crews have laid back and relaxed between movie takes.  It is a campsite where relatives and friends gathered  to ease the rigors of work and usual household headaches.  And although it's quite ironic that we leave the "comforts" of  home to rough it, we seemingly sacrifice ourselves to live at a lower segment of society.  But the fun in doing these things can't be matched by the environs of the home.  Or work, for that matter.

    I look back several years and I am reminded of the fun the children (and adults) had.  Fun for the children included socializing with their relatives and friends.  The adults occupied themselves with a more sedate form of social activity--mahjong.  For those who shrugged the thrill of rubbing a middle finger on ivory tiles, they contented themselves with unending talks, tsismis included.  Maybe it was to pass the time.  Or to fill in what's missed during the daily grind at work or at home.  But the cheese wasn't the usual cheese--it's more on the amusing side of life.  Something that someone craved for just to giggle, or laugh at best.

    Yes, all these and more reflected what summer could offer.  It's up to us for the taking.  Maybe, just maybe, gone are the days when the thrill of packing up for a weekend trip to the boondocks was a real excitement.  

    As we grow old, we lose some interest in things we used to love and enjoy.  Gradually, things become "stale" as our idea of fun changes.  We manage, however, to substitute other things in their places.  Our flexibility and our ability to quickly adjust help us in determining what fun would be proper as our taste buds get less sensitive.  Or, we simply stand back and feel like repeating the words of Gen. MacArthur:  "Old soldiers never die, they just fade away."

    Another summer, another year.  Surely, we had our own way of letting the season go by.  Whatever it was, surely I hope that it was another summer full of fun and adventure.  That's what summer is all about.  Just like life.

    "As you journey through life, choose your destinations well, but do not hurry there.  You will arrive soon enough.  Wander the back roads and forgotten paths, keeping your destination in your heart like a fixed point of a compass.  Seek out new voices, strange sights, and ideas foreign to your own.  Such things are riches for the soul.  And if, upon arrival, you find that your destination is not exactly as you had dreamed, do not be disappointed.  Think of all you would have missed but for the journey there, and know that the true worth of your travels lies not in where you come to be at journey's end, but in who you come to be along the way."


(From the TOLenquirer, Sept.-Oct. 1998 issue)






GOING HOME

As rain falls, our reactions differ.  Some seek shelter from it, some go frolicking out to get wet.  We look at things differently.  Our views vary depending on what we are, how we perceive things, or how quick we are to adjust to offbeat happenings that we occasionally not desire.
    
    When the full moon is out, I remember the old folks warning the kids not to stay out too late.  Maybe to them it was bad omen of some kind.  Lovers go out to admire the beauty and elegance of such a quiet evening.  And, as the hallelujah chorus of cicadas compete with soft rustles of tall grass, the nocturnal fear suddenly vanishes and reality follows.  The undiminished awe that moonlit nights bring gives a twist on how it’s perceived to be.  I go out on certain nights and simply stare at the sky and try to visualize a scene.  It is a scene only I can bring to life or at least in my imagination at that very instant.  I find peace in being alone with nature because nature always gives back what I want.  Yet, she never expects anything in return.  It sounds so easy.
    
    I have looked down on gorges and deep canyons and admired their natural beauty: the ubiquitous sound of a breeze slashing through the pine trees, the seemingly unending swooshing sound of white water twisting its way down to the bottom of the gorge.  But danger lurks among these beauties.  A little slip could be a fatal mistake.  So it’s nice to simply sit down and admire a scenery and absorb it as it is.  You don’t have to do anything to it because it doesn’t require any reprisal.  They are givers, they’re proud and probably more than delighted to oblige.
    
    Have you ever stopped along the way to admire a wildflower?  Or stopped to snap a picture of an ellk as it grazes on grass?  There are things in life that needed attention yet don’t require much reverence.  They need none of that.  The perusal of a good book is one way--it has it, and it’s yours to either like or not like it.  You never questioned why the plot was this or that.  You either simply read it or tossed it aside.  It wasn’t a bad apple.  It was good.  It was just “not good” for you but it could be a blessing to someone.
    
    We need to treat life as we see it.  It is an endless pursuit of happiness.  A dab of this and a dab of that sometimes helps ease the pain.  We have obstacles in our lives that are easily overcome only if we willingly sacrifice other things.  It is unnatural to withdraw from little bitty things that could have been totally ignored in the first place.  But there is fun in taking challenges and risks.  The human mind can do wonders.  And although physical intervention could do just as good, it is not necessary.  In olden times, people look at pictures.  They read books and watched silent movies.  These were done sitting down.  No major movements needed.  And it is fascinating to find out that their expression of satisfaction was reflected by what was read, looked at, or watched.  
    
    As you leave home and go to another place, a feeling of emptiness exists as you’re midway.  The pull from both sides puts you into equilibrium and you seem to freeze as forces from point A and point B equalize.  Then as you make yet another small step towards one, the invisible force breaks and on you go to the direction you chose.  Yes, life is also physics.  It’s not always desirable but can be made to be one.  With the help of others, we can develop a sense of sensitivity and learn to improvise ways and means to satisfy a desire or a wish.  If it feels good, do it.
    
    As you leave one place and go to another, try to forget the past albeit temporarily.  Concentrate on the present and do whatever is necessary to satisfy a need.  The world around you could be different now but that was by choice.  You wanted to be there.  Live it.  Enjoy it.  The past is past and although you can relive the past, learn from it.  Utilize knowledge from past experiences.  And when the time comes that a place will remind you of something nice, stop and think about it because you can paste a little picture of your past to make the present still worthwhile as much as you hoped it would be.
    
    Listen to yourself--your steps should take you to a place where happiness dwells.  Take time, too to enjoy a place that you really loved before.  There is beauty in antiques, you know?  But as you go through all these, bear in mind that they can also be the past in a few days, a few weeks.  Then and then alone can you start slipping back to the other past as you make the return voyage to another paradise of sorts.  You can turn around and take another look at a present that will soon be the past.  It’s okay.
    
    Home is where the heart is.  A chair is still a chair even when there’s no one sitting there.  But a house is not a home... when there’s no one there.

(From the TOLenquirer, Mar.-Apr. 1997 issue)






ARE YOU LISTENING, MOTHER?

My mother was 63 when she passed away.  She was always there for us until that time, when she said, "I have seen you...  I have to go."  Those were mother's last words, on her death bed as I held her flaccid hand.  Although I must have appeared emotionless, the feeling inside of me was totally void and numb.  It was difficult to see a mother pass away.  It's something that we probably could not compare to any loss.

    If mother were still alive today (this is 2000), she would have been 74.  Her birthdays were never special really--we never actually celebrated them with lavish parties.  She thought of her birthday like another ordinary day because she said she's just an "ordinary" person.  But mother was special because she never thought of herself, almost selflessly, but always treated us her children as if every day was special.  She was a giver.  When she died, there were people who were so scared stiff they came over to pay what they owed her many years before.  I am sure mother would have just shrugged it off and said, "Oh, that's perfectly okay."

    Mothers are special people.  They're there for you.  Yes, even long after you should have been out of the house in the first place.  The things they do each day center on how their nature was concocted--they amazingly perform duties and deeds like no other in the household.  If only they could live long enough to actually see how  their motherly responsibilities and duties have transformed the little ones whom they nurtured from day one.  If mother could see us now I know that just a burst of smile would say everything she wanted to express.  She was like that.  Even in the worst of times, she managed to do just that and I knew how much she cared for us and our future.  With father's guidance and manly authority, we yearned for a good and well-deserved future.  Now, it's our turn to do the same--to our children.  Start now, life is too short already.  If you're listening, mother...  "Am I doing okay?"

(From the TOLenquirer, Oct. 1996 issue)






A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE
I have been dreaming again.  My whereabouts at the time is logically insignificant.  Not only because dreams are black and white but also because dreams are just that--dreams.  Until they come true.  And then we wonder why the validity of such a premonition doesn't equate to the reality of the dream as we "saw" it with our eyes closed.

Then we ask ourselves the formidable question why the reality of the dream could very well reflect how intense our desire was in the pursuit of human experience.  The wonder of dreaming eclipses many unconcscious actions that dwell in our being.  There are those that carry the burden of having enough power to overcome the false pretensions, the wild imaginings, and the gentle persuasion that after all, we are the captains of our souls.

As I grew older, the world around me changed its mood in a manner that I can control.  The illusions of youth suddenly started to fade as reality became more common and widespread like gray hairs.  Accepting aging as a formidable place to welcome wrinkles, aches and pains, or creases on the forehead, I put my foot forward to gleefully embrace a state of fulfillment instead that of confusion... even if it's done in slow motion.

What matters is how we visualize the next pages of our lives.  Our children won't be children any longer.  They will mature soon enough and live on their own wilth a family to take care of as well.  Hopefully, the generosity of time is on our side and we survive to witness the realization of what we have dreamed about--for our children and our children's children.

(From the TOLenquirer, May 1996 issue)



Essay I   ·   Essay II   ·   Essay III    Summer Dreams