On Friendships

As I make the journeys in my life and pursue my happiness and dreams, it takes its toll on the friendships I have. As I move on or vacillate or remain as I am, I either unknowingly or unavoidably discard friends; or they unknowingly or unavoidably discard me.

Some of my friendships had been for certain moments and situations; they never were meant to last. There were those which seemed promising, but due to my fault (or theirs), they did not make it beyond beautiful promises and expectations.

There are those which I deliberately lost (and without so much as a morsel of regret), I mean, I intentionally lost them as soon as I saw that they were in pursuit of two areas of self: Centeredness and aggrandizement. The pursuit was either theirs or mine.

I also know those which wait and watch from the sidelines. They are very polite and unobtrusive. They are all too careful not to cause offense. Where is the fun in that? In the spirit of excessive caution and propriety, these friendships miss out on the novelty, dynamism, and excitement of human liaisons.

Finally, there are the friendships which are the greatest things in our lives. They are heaven-sent gifts to a mortal race. They endure; they refuse to die; they tolerate and withstand abuse; they persevere in times of uncertainty; they are always there to walk us through the vagaries of our drab and troubled existence. These are the friendships to die for.

Partings

This evening, my wife's sister, Liza, together with husband, Philippe, and children, Kim and Greg, got on a flight to Paris, France, their home. They were in the country for their month-long summer holiday. Their last Philippine visit preceding this was four years ago.

My wife has often said that she prefers welcoming people to bidding them goodbye, and I share her sentiments. A welcome is replete with hope and expectation; it has a most genuine smile. It shows a lot of promise and makes a lot of promises. It is spontaneous, it disregards convention, it is gay abandon.

When I bid someone goodbye, I feel a sense of finality. I have dread thoughts. I fear that Fate might wield its hand and forever prevent me from welcoming that someone again. A part of me dies when I bid someone goodbye.

I envy those who can say hello and goodbye rather casually, treating them as mere words or expressions, parts of everyday common speech. They may have no conviction or commitment, but they spare themselves from the self-inflicted agonies of sentimental fools.

Justice

I truly enjoyed reading Madelline V. Romero's blog entry on February 25, 2009, titled "A Sad Sight" (http://mvromero.livejournal.com/).

Madelline, a fine young lady all of 27 years and a native of Tarlac, was a former colleague at a USAID-Winrock International program called AMORE. She writes rather well. She hit the mark, so to speak, in the blog entry I am referring to.

At a time when we reminisce and celebrate a former president's greatest legacy, i.e. toppling a well-entrenched dictator and restoring democracy, the downfall of overlords and despots, and their cohorts, is very exhilarating. Madelline's blog entry almost sent me into an adrenaline-driven fit of frenzy, much like the tarantella dance, with its feverish, wild, erotic gyrations which are supposed to be an antidote to the bite of a venomous tarantula. It also imbued me with the fresh realization that karmic laws operate in our midst. It is almost a universal belief that we reap according to what we have sown. Madelline's tyrant (who was also my tyrant for the whole of nine months) could not escape or be exempted from these "laws of life".

Revenge may be sweet, but it is morally wrong. Divine Justice is sweetest.

Farewell

Today, Cory Aquino, former president, is being laid to rest. She is among the handful of public figures who are well-loved and revered by my countrymen, and who deserve that love and respect. All other public figures outside of this exclusive circle are vile and loathsome creatures.

I must admit that probably like many other Filipinos, I've relegated the Cory persona to the back of my mind. I have my own personal daily struggles to contend with; seasons, hardships, and illnesses to endure; dreams that have to be kept lit.

I was 23 when Ninoy Aquino was assassinated, 26 when People Power swept Marcos out of power, and now I'm 49 when Cory, Ninoy's widow, is being laid to rest; a beloved human being, public servant, and mother. I'm thankful that because of my age, I'm able to fully appreciate the events of the day.

Writing about it, though, does not do justice to the gamut of emotions and sentiments that spring from these events.

Eclipses

Midmorning last July 22, my wife took out a curious keepsake. It was a simple, yet ingenious and functional "solar eclipse viewer", fashioned out of cardboard and old-school photographic film, the kind used by professional photographers before the advent of digital cameras.

The keepsake had these written on it: 24 Oct, 12:56 PM, Eclipse '95. I wrote those words almost 14 years ago. It was a providentially clear, sunny day. It was a regular school and work day, but people turned it into an impromptu holiday. Everyone who had a clear appreciation of the rarity of the phenomenon was outdoors. I was with my daughter, Denise, who was ten years old at the time.

Then the eclipse happened. It was eerily beautiful. It wasn't total, as best as I can recall, about 75% at most, but it was a sight to behold. The keepsake proved very functional. Denise and I took turns with it. I cannot remember now exactly how the eclipse looked like, but I can never forget the wonder in my daughter's eyes.

It was now Paolo's turn to be awed, and the keepsake's resurrection from storage proved opportune. This eclipse was of lesser magnificence though, but with my son's penchant for comets, asteroids, and meteors, it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences for him. He finds delight in natural wonders, as well as man-made ones such as electronic things and gadgets.

These eclipses were for my ten-year olds. They were for their respective ages when awe and wonder remain with a person for life. We adults tend to trivialise and logicise everything. We smother both curiosity and fascination with rationale. Where is the wonder in having an explanation for everything? There are some things that we should not or never know. For some things we should always be kept in suspense. Or in the dark. This way we will remember the smallest details of events when they happen, or when thin, faint rays of hope slice through the darkness in our lives. It is like the sun coming out of an eclipse. Beautiful.

The secrets to bliss,

I believe,

are illiteracy,

simplemindedness,

a narrow,

very provincial

and constricted

outlook;

Knowledge,

while it gives one

a sense of pride,

of self-worth,

of security,

is also the source

of so much unhappiness.

-B. V. Sulit