Today's prayer session was nice. Apat lang kami, pero okey lang. Simple. About thirsting for God, and how Advent reminds us about our thirst for God.
And now ... I am just trying to waste time ... have a birthday party to attend later tonight. I'm beginning to love other people's birthdays ... they serve to comfort me with the knowledge that I'm not the only one getting older. Hehe! :P Especially since I'm older than a lot of my batchmates.
Hmmm ... maybe I should squeeze in some work before the party ... like a check some papers or something ....
Updates. I finally watched the Harry Potter movie. It was okay; I love how almost everything corresponded almost exactly to the way I'd imagined things. I especially loved the Quidditch Match scene. Still, nothing beats the book. :)
Beers and inihaw na tahong last night at AL's house. I never knew you could eat tahong that way. Really good, though.
Dinner and drinks last night with A and M. It's been awhile since I've felt bothered enough by something to actually invite people out to drink. After talking to them, things are a little bit clearer in my mind ... but I still feel a little off-center.
*Haaaay!*
A feature about the performing arts is on channel 9 right now. I miss ballet, even though I was never really good it.
This actor/deacon being interviewed just quoted St. Augustine: "Our heart is restless until it rests in Thee." Something I probably ought to dwell on right now.
Yesterday evening's main theme: the struggle of romantic relationships. The difficulty of deciding whether to start a new relationship ... the adjustment that it takes to make a young relationship work ... the issues that arise in a mature relationship ... and the complexities that linger when a relationship has long been over.
*Haaay!* I was commenting to E: I had almost forgotten how difficult being in love can be.
Giving elder-sisterly advice to T was heartwarming. As E, A, and I took turns talking to her, it made me realize how far each of us--the three of us--had come. Just two, three years ago, we were where she is now. And last night, we could actually sit there, with Color It Red performing five meters away from us, and talk about the struggle towards self-actualization ... how, eventually, you can learn to love yourself and feel fulfilled. And that the best kind of being "in love" is being in love with the world/with life, even when you don't have anyone particular to love. And that when you find that, it makes romance so much richer and more meaningful.
Hmmm ... the "Lonely Hearts" moniker we gave ourselves as college freshmen ... and the irony of that name ....
I'm beginning to think, maybe "happyhappyhappy" isn't the right way to describe my current state. "Centered" seems more accurate. Or even "healthy."
I'm sad about last night's stories, though. :( Why isn't love easier?
And, on a completely off-tangent note, why can't wine be cheaper?
Meanwhile ... I still haven't watched the Harry Potter movie. :(
And I am procrastinating ... yet again. Ladeedah. The girls are already at the restaurant. And I haven't even changed yet. Evil, evil me.
When Bill was very young, they had been in love. Many nights they had spent walking, talking together. Then something not very important had come between them, and they didn’t speak. Impulsively, she had married a man she thought she loved. Bill went away, bitter about women.
Yesterday, walking across Washington Square, she saw him for the first time in years.
“Bill Walker,” she said.
He stopped. At first he did not recognize her, to him she looked so old.
“Mary!” Where did you come from?”
Unconsciously, she lifted her face as though wanting a kiss, but he held out his hand. She took it. “I live in New York now,” she said.
“Oh”—smiling politely. Then a little frown came quickly between his eyes.
“Always wondered what happened to you, Bill.”
“I’m a lawyer. Nice firm, way downtown.”
“Married yet?”
“Sure. Two kids.”
“Oh,” she said.
A great many people went past them through the park. People they didn’t know. It was late afternoon. Nearly sunset. Cold.
“And your husband?” he asked her.
“We have three children. I work in the bursar’s office at Columbia.”
“You’re looking very . . .” (he wanted to say old) . . .
“. . . well,” he said.
She understood. Under the trees in Washington Square, she found herself desperately reaching back into the past. She had been older than he then in Ohio. Now she was not young at all. Bill was still young.
“We live on Central Park West, she said. “Come and see us sometime.”
“Sure,” he replied. “You and your husband must have dinner with my family some night. Any night, Lucille and I’d love to have you.”
The leaves fell slowly from the trees in the Square. Fell without wind. Autumn dusk. She felt a little sick.
“We’d love it,” she answered.
“You ought to see my kids.” He grinned.
Suddenly the lights came on up the whole length of Fifth Avenue, chains of misty brilliance in the blue air.
“There’s my bus,” she said.
He held out his hand, “Good-by.”
“When . . .” she wanted to say, but the bus was ready to pull off. The lights on the avenue blurred, twinkled, blurred. And she was afraid to open her mouth as she entered the bus. Afraid it would be impossible to utter a word.
Suddenly she shrieked very loudly, “Good-by!” But the bus door had closed.
The bus started. People came between them outside, people crossing the street, people they didn’t know. Space and people. She lost sight of Bill. Then she remembered she had forgotten to give him her address—or to ask him for his—or tell him that her youngest son was named Bill, too.
Things to do today: Meet with my colleague at school, dinner and G with the girls, and if I come home early enough, finish work on a paper. Reminder to myself: call my aunt.
Things I hope to do soon: Go shopping and buy that top I want, make my Christmas shopping list, renew my resolution to smoke less. And remember to order decaf next time I have a coffee nightcap.
Other news:: My younger brother finally got that Playstation 2 he has been hankering for. He offered to give me his old Playstation, but that means I'll have to wait till next summer. It's either that, or I seriously start saving up for a PS2 of my own.
"Nice" is one of my favorite words. There are times that it is just so appropriate.
Anyway. Crepes, candles, and coffee tonight with le barkada. Crepes for dinner (or dessert, in everyone else's case; I was the only one who hadn't eaten). Candles for after-dinner conversation. (We didn't eat them, silly. We were sitting at a table that had candles on it. I just couldn't resist the alliteration.) Coffee for night cap. As usual, my proposal for an alcoholic night cap was outvoted. Am I the only one in the group who has not outgrown alcohol?
Main topics for the night:commitment, work-related stress (as usual), and dogs.
News that made me beam with joy: Warren, the kid who sells sampaguitas across the apartment building I used to live in, got into the U.P. Intarmed program. :) I can't believe he's graduating from high school already; I still remember when he was a little kid.
Tonight was nice.
________
Today, on the other hand, was "pleasant."
I often feel I'm in my element inside the classroom. Today was one of those moments. Nothing spectacular. But thoroughly enjoyable. Mental notes: (1) Avoid examples that will garner too much reaction from the class, especially when pressed for time. (2) Take note of dramatic pauses. Ah yes, it is true, the art of giving lectures is, to a great extent, theater-acting.
After class, I managed to wing it at a panel discussion that I came completely unprepared for. (Winging it: a skill that takes semesters of practice, as all teachers know.)
Post-class conversation at the department: Today's topics were Habermas, capitalism, the weaknesses of the Philippine college system, and the loopholes of democratization. Result: two additional books to read. I've been reading and thinking so much these past few months, that I'm starting to feel a bit tired: "Shall I throw the towel into the political philosophy ring? And for the moment do something a bit less, um, 'involving,' like metaphysics?" Political philosophy, I find, wears me out more easily, because of the urgency that I feel every time I think about it. Stress, stress, stress. Department chair's recommendation: "Maybe it's time to stop reading, and start writing." Very good point, pragmatically-speaking. I have five deadlines to meet. In the meantime: my struggle, I think, with political philosophy, is that I cannot remain the detached pure philosopher when I delve into it.
*Sigh.* So ... today was pleasant. Meanwhile, I remain happyhappyhappy. (Again, a clarification: not ecstatic happy, but peaceful happy. Life continues to be pretty good.) :)
Read through my e-mail. Including a Thanksgiving message from a cousin in NYC who lost her fiance in the WTC attack.
I am thankful for the reminder that even in the depths of despair, there are still things to be thankful for....
I've been reflecting on the meaning of "ang tawang hindi mapait," for tomorrow's class. And the same thought keeps resounding in my mind. Ang lahat ay biyaya. Everything is grace. Not in some Disneyland or fairy-tale kind of way. But in a genuine coming-to-terms with the pain of life -- (the kind of coming-to-terms which there are no words for) -- and a realization that even in this pain, everything is still grace.
I don't necessarily agree with, nor fully understand, the historical reasons for the celebration of this U.S. feast. (I wonder how most Native Americans feel about Thanksgiving.) Nevertheless, I do think it's nice to set aside a day to be grateful. So . . . Happy Thanksgiving.
Now, is it appropriate to say "Happy" Ramadan? How about "Have a Holy Ramadan"?
Attended a prayer session today. The theme was Christ as King (this Sunday is the Solemnity of Christ the King). The Scripture passage for contemplation was Luke 23:35-43, the scene of the Crucifixion in which Christ was being mocked as "King of the Jews," and in which the two thieves spoke to him as they hung dying.
A few months ago, I listened to a priest give a talk on theology. At one point in his talk, he was trying to help us visualize the ugliness of Christ's crucifixion--or any crucifixion. "Imagine a large cut of meat hanging from a hook in a wet market," he said. "Imagine the rancid smell . . . the flies swarming . . . . For that's what a crucifixion was: a piece of meat hanging from a post."
The irony of it. That Christ's moment of "kingship" was such a horrible, humiliating death. If we were alive at the time, honestly, what would our reaction have been at the Crucifixion? In my contemplation, I suddenly understood Peter--hiding in fear, and maybe embarrassment. His leader, his mentor, his "idol" (in the Filipino sense) was hanging like the worst of criminals, as an enemy of the people; his body beaten, swollen, bruised; his dignity stripped of him as he became the butt of jokes and the target of insults.
This cross of humiliation was Christ's throne.
I read a Christmas reflection once that said that Christ's birth was a turning of the world on its head. At his birth, God Incarnate was not staring down at the earth from the heavens; he was lying in a manger looking up at the world. Christ's death seems to have involved the same inversion. The King inhaled his first breath of air in a smelly stable with cow dung and horse shit on the ground; at his death, the King's last breath left a body that was bloody and battered, his "royal" death a death not fit even for the worst criminals in our modern world.
Yet in turning the world upside down like this, Christ showed us the meaning of his own words: that he who wants to be first must place himself last, in the service of others. That God's "kingdom" is not a kingdom of riches, nor honor, nor pride and ambition . . . but a kingdom of self-effacing, supremely self-giving love. As St. Ignatius reminds us, this is the standard of God's kingdom.
_________
Had a nice long talk this evening with a colleague, about politics, economics, and the history of civilizations. The more I come to know the academic world, the more I shudder at the uncertainty of the answers we have. Ideas are what shape history, and I hope that we are moving closer to the right ideas.
The way things are going, I probably won't be able to tick off all the things on today's to-do list. I promised a group of students I'd eat lunch at their stall today (they're having a foodsale). I also have to run errands at two banks . . . and then be back on campus in time for a meeting this afternoon. I keep telling myself, "I'll get ready in five minutes" . . . "no, five more" . . . .
Okay. So I've been trying to figure out this HTML thing by trying to decipher source codes. (One must be resourceful in times of desperation.) Even Greek is easier. "Parang Wordstar lang yan," according to my elder brother. Makes me really glad that I learned to use a computer in the pre-Windows era. Wish me luck.
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