I am no longer a big Disney fan, but I watched “Coco” because I wanted to find another movie that my son can watch and enjoy watching. I absolutely loved this movie, not only for its story but for how close it is to my own culture. This movie reminds me again of how similar the Mexican and Philippine cultures are – having both Spanish and American influences. (And this in turn, reminds me of my trip to Canada last year where I met a young Mexican man at the airport in Vancouver. I had to call the travel agency, but my phone wouldn’t work. He offered to let me use his phone, even though we didn’t even know each other’s names. Later he sat next to me on the bus, and we talked all the way from Vancouver to Victoria like we’d known each other forever! It felt like I was talking to my own nephew!)
For an adult to enjoy this movie, one has to employ a willing suspension of disbelief – for example, there’s no need to question (like I did): before the invention of the camera, what was the requirement for the departed to be able to visit the living if they had no pictures in the ofrenda?!
In my hometown (I’m not sure if this true in all of the Philippines), when All Souls’ Day comes, people would write down on an envelope the names of their loved ones who had passed on, and put money inside and offer this to the altar during the Offertory part of the mass. The priest would then read the names of the departed, praying for their eternal repose. (When there are too many names to read, the priest would just say, “All the departed whose names are here on the altar” or something like that.)
One All Souls’ Day years ago, my mother couldn’t find an envelope to use for the offering. She was getting agitated. I finally found an Air Mail envelope with the red and blue stripes on the sides, and said, “Here, Ma, this will get to God faster!” She tried so hard not to laugh, believing it was blasphemous.
Also on All Souls’ Day, we fill our altar with the departed’s favorite things. Just like in “Coco.” I’m using the present tense “fill” because we (my sisters back home, and me here in China) still practice the same. But what we do prepare is nothing compared to what my grandparents did back in the day.
My grandparents had something like a prayer room. There was a big altar with several icons. At the center was that of Christ the King, and then that of St. Michael (the patron saint of my city) and the Immaculate Conception, Our Lady of Lourdes, Our Lady of Fatima, St. Joseph, etc. My grandfather had a big chair facing the altar where he would sit and pray the rosary in the evening. On All Souls’ Day, there would be different kinds of food, and drinks and tobacco or cigarettes. It was an exciting time for us kids back then because we looked forward to eating those sweets prepared for the dead. We were told to wait until the dead had seen them. To be honest, I can’t remember what time they said it was that the dead came to see the offering.
Since I moved to China, I would make a small altar made up of a cross and a candle on my father’s birthday and on All Souls’ Day. I’d “offer” a brownie or a slice of chocolate cake, a can of beer or a glass or rum, and a pack of cigarettes, and in the evening I’d drink the beer or rum (with coke though) and smoke a cigarette. These are the only times I smoke or drink. I’m allergic to alcohol, but I like remembering him this way. (My father only drunk on weekends after playing tennis. He didn’t drink on Sundays or weekdays because he didn’t want to be hungover at work.)
As my mother has also passed on, I now have two pictures on my altar.
Watching “Coco” made me realize that this practice of remembering the dead is rooted in the belief in the existence of purgatory and that the dead need help from the living for them to move on. I do no really think of heaven, hell or purgatory anymore unlike when I was a kid when I saw the cover of the Novena for the Souls in Purgatory.
So why do I still keep photographs of my dead parents and prepare an “offering”?
If I am to be honest, it is for selfish reasons – I miss them, and I do not want to ever forget them, and part of me wants to believe that somehow they can still see or hear me and help me when I have a burden that’s too much for me to carry.
It is very selfish and immature perhaps, but I think when you grew up having very protective parents, a part of you will always remain a child of your parents, looking up to them for guidance and protection. Just like Coco, who was already a great-great grandmother, yet still calling out for her Papa like a child (she might have had Alzheimer’s, but her memory of her father was not a false one.)
Can the dead see or hear? Will they know that the living even think of them? Perhaps not. But remembering the dead is not really for them to be taken out of purgatory and into heaven. It is for the living that theymay have the courage to live their lives the way their departed loved ones would have wanted them to do.
In general, there are two kinds of people according to how they view their life: those who continually search for meaning and purpose in life, and those who don’t. These two kinds of people come to the same end, however. They die. We die. But that time just before death is where the dying differ. Those who believe (even without any real proof) that they have found meaning and fulfilled their purpose in life, pass confidently though sadly, and those who feel they have unfulfilled promises or dreams or tasks left undone, leave bitterly.
In my lifetime, I have seen enough number of dying people to see this. It is always sad as I know it is the fate of each and every one of us.
Ishiguro’s “Never Let Me Go” reminds me of that sadness I feel when pondering on the fate of human beings. At first I found this novel disturbing and then extremely sad; and only today, two days after I finished reading the novel, did I finally realize what I found so sad about it.
It is not that the “students” unquestioningly accept their fate of dying young because they are mere clones, created to become organ donors.
It is not that despite their being more humane than the humans who created and raised them, the latter are repulsed by them.
Rather it is that human beings despite their being “superior” to the clones, are ignorant of the real meaning and purpose of their existence, while the clones aren’t. Hence, the former can face death which they aptly call “completing” without fear or regret, albeit with a little sadness. Ishiguro found the perfect word to call death in this novel. When the clones die from having donated their organs, it is because they have accomplished or “completed” the purpose of their existence.
There are people who are convinced that they know their purpose for being in this world – they have faith or they make up their own purpose, but is it really the real purpose for our existence? How will we know for sure?
This is why I envy the clones in the novel, at least there is no doubt in their heads why they exist. For somebody outside looking in, it is a very sad existence, but the “students” in Hailsham had a happy childhood, lots of fun memories, and there was no question in their head as to what was going to happen to them, how their lives would end. As for us, humans, though we know our time is limited, and we attach all kinds of meaning or purpose for our lives, in the end we are all Jon Snow.
We know nothing.
“For this week’s photo challenge, explore what it means to find your place in the world. Where’s your safe space? Where do you go when you need to feel inspired or cheered up? Do you prefer to feel cozy and comforted in a smaller town or do you thrive on the buzz of a big city?”
One thing my husband, my son and I have in common is we find comfort in sitting on the beach, hearing the waves roll onto the shore. It’s mesmerizing, relaxing, comforting.
At 7 years, my son still cannot verbalize what he feels, but seeing him so calm — not stimming — is enough to make me realize that, just as it is for his parents, this too, is his place in the world.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/place/
My husband and I were walking from the restaurant to the post office when he spotted this caterpillar. I wouldn’t have seen it because it was high up on a vine on a fence, and I’m short. Luckily phone cameras have a zoom function.
Weekly Photo Challenge:
Unlikely
Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan, Canada
Jimei, Xiamen, China
Dalipuga, Iligan, Philippines
… any quiet place near a body of water, where I can sit and watch the sky and its reflection on the water, and feel the breeze on my skin and perhaps hear the happy singing of the birds.
It doesn’t matter which country. I can have a favorite place anywhere.
It’s been two years since my mom passed on, yet a part of me still feels she’s just back home in the Philippines. But that feeling doesn’t last very long because I am conscious that I just can’t make a call and hear her voice again.
Life is so different without a mother, even for an adult daughter in her 40s.
I have so many fond memories of my mother as she was a funny woman who laughed loudly and was talented at story-telling. She could never tell a story sitting down — she gestured; her facial expressions changed as quickly as Chinese opera players changed masks, and her voice made it difficult not to imagine whoever she was portraying.
My mother was a very interesting character; I hope one day I can really write a story about her. She would love that. Since I started writing poetry in high school she had asked me to write about her, but I only started to write about her as she lay dying, two years ago.
One of the things I truly regret in my life was not being able to give a good eulogy for her. My mother loved drama, and she would’ve liked something dramatic at her funeral (and I say this with fondness for memories of her ), but unfortunately I failed.
Last week I bought flowers (photos above) to put next to her picture which I keep in my apartment. It was her death anniversary, and wherever she is, just in case she has a way of knowing, I wanted her to know I still think about her and wish she was just a phone call away.
Wonderful performance from these young men at the Hong Kong International Airport. We will never know who these young men were, nor recognize them when we see them up close, but as a group, their performance will be remembered for a long time.
新年快乐！🐶🎉
Initao, Northern Mindanao, Philippines
“Explore the use of anonymity to express both that which is common to all of us and the uniqueness that stands out even when the most obvious parts of us are hidden. Just as all of us can oscillate between conformity and individualism, allow your photo to do the same.”
Weekly Photo Challenge: A Face in the Crowd
He laments the quick and merciless
Passing of time and the white strands of hair
That are starting to show on his temples.
He looks at old photographs and then looks at himself
In the mirror and sighs …. “Time is unkind.
“We were so young then…,” he says.
“And stupid,” she adds.
She looks at herself in the mirror and sighs…
“This is inevitable,” she says to herself.
“The only thing that is constant is change.
Nature, too, ages.
The sun may rise and set again day after day,
And the waves rush back and forth,
Second after second…
Yet they, too, go through change.
“But some things can remain constant
In our lifetime.
We can keep them constant.
And that should be enough.”
Daily Prompt: Constant
We’re not children,
We don’t need to fight over petty matters,
It shouldn’t matter who has the last witty retort,
In fact there’s no need for a retort
Nor for the cause of such.
Let’s be the grown ups that we are.
Compromise.
——-
Daily Prompt: Compromise
Bukidnon means “from the mountains” or “mountain dweller.” It’s a province on the island of Mindanao. Dahilayan is a village in the town of Manolo Fortich. In recent years, it has become popular for its Forest Park and its Adventure Park.
Go check out their websites by clicking on the links. I’m not a very adventurous person, but I did go on the zip line. I truly enjoyed the beauty of this village — cool, clean air, blue skies, mountains and trees everywhere. I enjoyed just walking around and taking pictures.
I grew up in a coastal city and love watching the sunset. Yesterday, my husband and I went to my favorite spot in the city and watched the sunset.
It’s been a very busy month for the two of us, so it was good to have to some quiet time, walking. I will always love this part of my hometown.
While I never and will never think of myself as “sweet,” the fact that my husband likes to take photos of me even when my back is turned makes me think I’m blessed to marry a man who thinks I am. Lol.
He likes taking pictures of me, especially candid ones. I know he finds my facial expressions funny, and I’m like a comedian to him, but I especially like the ones he takes of me when I’m not aware of what he’s doing, like the ones above.
These two were taken just this weekend while we’re on holiday in the Philippines.
Have a lovely week! 💕
Last month, my son, E. had a two-week vacation in China with us. Before we enrolled him in a school for special needs in the Philippines, he spent most of the first 5 years of his young life in China and probably considers it his real home. This vacation was going to be different from last year’s because this time he would see his nainai (paternal grandmother) again after two years.
My husband had thought E. would not recognize her anymore, yet when I told E. that his nainai had arrived, he rushed to the door and had the sweetest smile on his face when he saw her. He reached out his little arms to her, and when she didn’t pick him up, he held her hand and led her to sit on the couch and kissed her. He kissed her cheeks several times.
There were no words between them, as what little Shandong dialect he picked up from her a few years ago had all been forgotten, and the less than 5 English words she picked up from him had all been forgotten as well. But this did not stop them from communicating in their own unique way. They came up with a clapping game that kept him entertained for the next 6 days.
When the time came to say goodbye, E. did not realize he would not see his nainai the next day or the day after that. As he likes airports, he was just happy to run around in the airport and get on the plane. But hours later, when he got out of the car and realized he was back in his other home (in another country) without his father and his nainai, he became very quiet and in the late afternoon he said to me, crying, “Let’s go.”
So we went out with my sisters and my nephew (who have been his companions for the last two years.) I was hoping he just wanted to get out of the house for a while, but when he realized we were still going back to the same house, he cried. That’s when it dawned on me that he wanted to go back to China. The second night after we arrived, he was still unhappy and cried again, so I finally asked him, “ Do you want to see daddy?” He didn’t say anything. “Do you want to see nainai?” He wailed and said, “Nainai!”
I right away made a video call to my husband and asked him to give the phone to his mom. When E. heard her voice, he grabbed the phone from me and looked at his grandma and cried and kissed the phone. It was the most touching thing I have ever seen my son do. He didn’t give the phone back to me for a long time. He just wanted to watch them.
On the third day, he probably realized that he could not really be with his nainai, and that a video call is not the same as being with her, that he did not want to look at her anymore. I don’t know if he feels betrayed by his grandma; I hope he doesn’t because she loves him just as much as he misses her.
We have been home in the Philippines for almost two weeks now, and he’s back to his happy self. E. is such a sweet 7-year -old boy that I keep telling him I love him just as often as he tells people, no matter family, friend or stranger, “I love you” right after greeting them “Hi” or “Good morning” or “Goodbye.”
I dread the day, less than a couple of weeks from now, when I have to say goodbye to him again. But I know he has his way of coping — we’ve been through this before and it’s usually I who take a week to recover.
For an autistic 7-year old who is minimally verbal, E. knows how to communicate his love for the people who love him and has an amazing strength to bear the pain of missing them. I am learning so much from my son.
E. spent two weeks with us in China, and he was quite happy. I made sure he wouldn’t get bored when his father was at work and it was just the two of us. I got him to play with the brush and paint and these are his “works.” Not a single stroke is mine — he did everything by himself. As he doesn’t really know how to hold a pencil properly yet, I thought a paintbrush would be easier for him.
To be honest, I don’t really see any meaning in these three, but I certainly love the colors he chose. I will treasure these “paintings” of E. as if they were masterpieces. No matter what people say or think of them, they are beloved by me because my 7-year old son made them. 💕
Mt. Taiwu, Kinmen, Taiwan
A friend and I went to Kinmen on a Monday a few months ago, and it was very quiet at Mt. Taiwu. It was a good day for a quiet walk, surrounded by nature and the silence of the departed.
“That which does not kill us makes us stronger.” — Friedrich Nietzsche
I saw this tree trunk from a distance and thought it looked interesting. You might say there’s nothing interesting about this trunk, that it’s even ugly. And you might be right.
I wish I had taken a photo of the whole tree — its leaves were quite green. This tree survived a super typhoon in 2016. The tree itself looked ordinary, but it’s the trunk that captured my attention. This weathered trunk to me stands for strength — something that I feel I have and should not lose in these very busy and stressful time in my life.
What do you see when you look at this trunk?
Below are two of my favorite photos that I took this year. Both are records of my first visit to North America and of the very first time I saw snow-covered mountains. That feeling I had as I looked out the window and saw those mountains will always be as vivid as I felt it when I was on the plane flying to Alberta from Vancouver.
*****************
After all the pain and sorrow of 2016, 2017 was overall a calm and peaceful year for me. And I am very grateful for that year. I have no idea what this year is going to be like, but I continue to be hopeful. I am ready for another beginning.
Happy New Year to you and your loved ones!
Canada
Weekly Photo Challenge:
2017 Favorites
Xiamen, China
“After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are more hills to climb.”
Have a lovely weekend! 💕
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge:
The over 200-year old trees on Gulangyu that were uprooted by Super typhoon Meranti were turned into works of art by Chinese artists. This trunk has been varnished and inscribed with Chinese characters that mean “remember” and its synonyms. It is also fitted with several speakers that play recordings of local people talking about their memories of the island.
Have a lovely weekend! 💕
T.
Daily Prompt: Varnish
I spent the whole day today on Gulangyu (Gulang Islet) and was able to visit the church that my husband and I used to go to every Sunday more than a couple of years ago, before we had our baby.
The church was locked when we arrived (as is usually the case when it’s not Sunday and there’s no mass), but the priest’s assistant opened it for us. (The young couple in the photo were just getting their wedding pictures taken outside the church but didn’t have a ceremony inside. )
Gulangyu was very crowded and noisy, but inside the church, it was quite serene.
Christ the King Church, Gulangyu, Xiamen
Weekly Photo Challenge
Serene
After a red-eye flight, a 3-hour layover and another hour and a half flight, I was met at the airport by my sisters, nephew and my son. We then headed to the beach because I wanted to walk along the beach with my son. He loves the water, but he is always afraid to try anything at any new place. This was our first time at this resort.
As always, at first he refused to step into the water when I asked him to. So, I did the routine of me stepping into it and showing him it was fun to get the feet wet. After a few minutes, he signaled for me to go back to where he was standing with my sister, and as soon as I reached out my hand, he clutched it and stepped forward.
After that, he didn’t want to leave anymore.
It was cloudy, but it was still a beautiful Saturday morning with the sound of the waves, the cool breeze and the warm sea water. And the love of my life clutching my hand.
Hope you have a lovely weekend, 💕
T.
Daily Prompt:
“The universe is transformation; life is opinion.” — Marcus Aurelius
Weekly Photo Challenge:
I’ve been living in Jimei for over a decade, and this place is just a 10-minute walk from my old apartment, but I’ve only been to this place twice. It’s not my in my usual route when I go walking. Yesterday though I decided to show my friend this place, and we loved it. It was 17 degrees C, cloudy and breezy.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Experimental
It’s early morning,
Hardly anything is astir
Save for a couple of cars
And the birds overhead
Singing a happy tune.
I say a prayer of thanks
For this time of quiet
Before it is broken
By the loud honking
Of trucks and buses
That rouse the city
From its much needed sleep.
Daily Prompt: Honk
There’s darkness everywhere I turn.
Though it’s daylight, and I feel
The sun shining brightly
On my darkened skin,
I don’t see a thing
Except for the darkness
Permeating my mind and my soul,
As I contemplate your departure from all this —
What was once a life filled with bright colors
Now turned black.
Daily Prompt: Black
West Lake Park, Quanzhou
West Lake Park, Quanzhou
West Lake Park, Quanzhou
West Lake Park, Quanzhou
Qingjing Mosque, Quanzhou
Qingjing Mosque, Quanzhou
Qingjing Mosuqe, Quanzhou
Qingjing Mosque, Quanzhou
Qingjing Mosque, Quanzhou
Qingjing Mosque, Quanzhou
Tomb covers, Qingjing Mosque, Quanzhou
“Why did evolution invent conscious experience and pain if we are machines, in principle no different from cars?” — Henry Marsh, Robert Sapolsky’s Behave is tour de force of science writing.
I have finally found a book that articulates what I have been thinking about for the last couple of years. (I haven’t read it yet, but I will very soon as I’ve already ordered on Amazon.)
In his review of the book, Marsh says, “Sapolsky uses the analogy of a car with faulty brakes to describe antisocial human behaviour. A mechanic will not accuse the car of being evil but instead will explain its bad behaviour in terms of its malfunctioning parts. Human behaviour is no different – it is determined by the mechanics of our brains. The difference is that we understand very little about them and so we invoke the mythical concept of a controlling self (which Sapolsky describes as a homunculus) located somewhere in our heads. Concepts such as ‘evil’, he argues, have no place in the modern world of scientific explanation. If people behave badly, it is because of the neurological, genetic, hormonal and environmental determinants that shaped their brains, not because of any evil nature. He concedes that punishment may be necessary as a deterrent but is adamant that it should not be seen as a virtue.”
Last year I wrote about my thoughts on people’s lack of control on their negative behavior as it may be determined by a malfunction in their brains (On Compassion, Forgiveness and the Brain ) Today, I came across Marsh’s review of Sapolsky’s book, and I am so happy that a renowned neuroendocrinologist and author from Stanford actually wrote about how the concept of “evil” has no place in the modern world of scientific explanation.
I can’t wait to read this :
Robert Sapolsky, Behave: The Biology of Humans at our Best and Worst
“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.” — Friedrich Nietszche
The other day I was talking with best friend number 3 who asked what’s up with me reading about philosophy now when it’s dead. I told him I’ve been interested in philosophy since I was 19, I just don’t talk about it much except with my husband (best friend number 1.) And as for philosophy being dead, I think for as long as human beings can think and feel the way we do now, there will always be philosophy.
I have three best friends whom I enjoy spending time with — and two of them almost always disagree with what I say. I’ve known M. who is best friend number 2, for 20 years now, and he is still sarcastic when he talks with me and always tries to makes me see that my arguments are either weak or “stoopi” (he still can’t pronounce stupid correctly. Lol ) Best friend number 3 is more or less the same — mocking me for my interests and telling me I’m wasting my time reading about these things.
Yet I prefer spending time and talking with any of my three best friends any time than with any other acquaintance. With some people I easily get upset when I am judged for my ideas. I can say I don’t care what they think, but their words can really hurt me. But with these three, they can be brutally honest with me, and they have, and I can still laugh and be grateful to them for being themselves with me and for accepting me for what I am.
We each have our preferences, our own ways of seeing things,but these have not stopped us from being friends.
It would take a Kafka
To make this charade of yours
Pass for reality.
Surreal are your words
That seem to come naturally
From those lying lips.
Surreal are your thoughts
That seem original
Yet hard to accept.
Surreal is the life you live
That only you
Can ever make sense of.
Daily Prompt:
Surreal
The sarcastic smile,
The fashionable clothes,
The distinct swagger…
Trademarks of what others perceive
To be arrogance,
But what I know to be
A facade put on
By a man
Afraid
Of life,
Death,
And love.
Daily Prompt
Trademark
Life can sometimes feel like
A big joke — a practical joke
Played on you
Which you don’t find
Funny at all.
And if you’re a believer,
You just feel like asking,
“Really, God? Are you f-ing kidding me?”
But you go on
Living.
Smiling.
As if everything’s all right
With your world.
Yet deep down you’re yearning
To understand what the hell is going on.
Your heart is screaming —
“Enlighten me or just put an end to it.”
Daily Prompt:
Enlighten
Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan, Canada
She was told not to wait,
Not to expect and just live
As if the things that had happened
Never happened.
But was that even possible?
How could one forget —
Those eyes that smiled
Even when the lips didn’t?
The embrace that seemed
To promise to never let go?
The words that should only be uttered
By those who mean them?
She couldn’t.
So she waits.
And expects
As she remembers
Everything that happened.
Daily Prompt: Expect
I watched you walk away,
I called your name out loud,
But my voice just echoed in this room.
You said I’d be safe in this place,
And I believed you.
But why do I feel,
Like I’m not free
To even say goodbye to you?
Why is my heart crying out
For release?
Daily Prompt: Release
These are old photos of Silver Cave, Guilin, China taken in 2009.
I took these photos yesterday flying from Mindanao to Manila. Everything below looks small when you’re thousands of feet above the land. But sometimes you see clouds that look gigantic right outside your plane window.
Have a lovely week! 💕
T.
Malaysia July 2016
Cloud Forest, Singapore April 2016
Cloud Forest, Singapore, April 2016
Weekly Photo Challenge: Scale “Show how big or small you can feel in a photo..
There’s nothing exceptional about you,
Nothing that anyone will ever notice.
You can go in and out of any place,
And people wouldn’t even know you were there.
You may even laugh, but your laughter
Is always drowned by others’ louder laughter.
Your tears are yours alone,
The world never bothers to ask
What bring them to your sad eyes.
So now that your back is bent,
And your feet hurt when you walk,
You think no one will miss you
When you simply disappear.
No one will come runnning
To stop you from jumping
From that bridge
You walk every day
Of your lonely adult life.
But you have to know — you’re not exceptional.
Not even in this.
Daily Prompt: Exceptional
I grow wild,
Undaunted by the dangers,
Hidden and conspicuous,
Eager to try everything
No matter the cost.
And I try to stop,
But I can’t help it.
So tame me.
Rein me in.
Save me
From myself.
Daily Prompt: Tame
The first time I came across the word “pedestrian” as an adjective was in an article by a literary critic describing a writer’s use of language as such. “Pedestrian” — ordinary, uninteresting, lacking imagination.
Pedestrian, as an adjective, is subjective. What is ordinary isn’t necessarily uninteresting to some.
Just look at this lotus leaf …
An old decaying leaf.
While people were eager to take photos of the flowers nearby, hardly anybody noticed this leaf except for some (perhaps equally pedestrian beings) like me who see something interesting in this old leaf, with droplets of rain on it. (My husband who saw this photo just now said it’s nice. “It’s dirty but nice.” Hmmm. OK.)
There’s nothing pedestrian about this leaf from my perspective. But then again pedestrian IS subjective.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Pedestrian
Why can’t we be
As pure as a flower
Growing naturally, artlessly?
Why do we have to pretend
To care when we don’t,
To feel when our hearts are empty,
To believe when we’re full of doubts,
To love when there’s only contempt?
They say if you live in society,
You need to socialize,
Be friendly, smile.
But what if society’s superficiality
Is killing you?
And you’re dying a slow, painful death
With your fake smile, and your fake laugh
And your equally fake concern
For your fake friends.
Perhaps this is part of living.
Perhaps life itself is superficial.
To be elastic is to be flexible, tolerant, resilient, to easily recover from depression or exhaustion.
To be elastic should be everyone’s goal.
I easily get angry, but I also easily get over the anger which sometimes annoys me because I think people shouldn’t just be allowed to readily forget the hurt they caused you. But that’s me.
I also get depressed so easily, but let me walk around a quiet park and give me solitude and let me have a good cry, then I’ll be fine.
Fuzhou Normal University
Jimei University
I like to think I’m “elastic,” but my husband doesn’t think so. He always tells me I’m stubborn, and maybe he’s right. But there’s one thing I’m 100% certain of — that both us have some “elasticity” within us or we wouldn’t still be happily married after 11 years!
Have a lovely weekend! 💕
T.
This week’s photo challenge is to interpret “pedestrian.” I’m choosing to interpret the noun form of this word in that the bridge, the road, the sidewalk, and the campus are devoid of pedestrians.
These photos were taken yesterday on the campus of Fuzhou Normal University in Fuzhou, China. This city is an hour-and-a-half by fast train away from Xiamen and is the capital of Fujian Province.
Even though it was cloudy, hubby and I had a nice walk with my cousin (who teaches at a neighboring uni.)
Have a wonderful Thursday!
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Pedestrian
I think most of us, in our childhood, have dreamed of becoming popular. We wanted to be liked, to have the most number of friends, but as we grow older, most of us realize, we do not need that many people in our lives. We just need our real friends, and they are usually fewer than what we originally thought.
These days people, young and old alike, gauge their popularity by the number of “likes,” “comments,” or “shares” they get for their post in whatever social media platform they are using. I was genuinely perplexed one time when a student asked another student in my class, “How would you feel if you find out your best friend ‘liked’ the post of one of your friends, but didn’t ‘like’ yours?” I really didn’t think it should matter. But then again I’m “old.”
If you’re popular, you will never have peace. People will always want to get your attention or get something from you. (I heard about Ed Sheeran refusing to use a celllphone, so he can get away from people who are always asking something from him.)
If you’re popular, you’re an easy target for criticism from people who do not like your popularity. And there are always that kind of people. And if you’re the type who value popularity, most likely you wouldn’t like criticism.
The desire for popularity, like any other form of desire, causes suffering. If you want to be popular, better be ready to suffer.
Daily Prompt: Popular
My son, E. who is 6 and on the spectrum has made some progress in some areas these past few months that have really made us happy. He used to get awfully scared of the sound of a hair dryer or any loud whirring, buzzing sound, but now he has gotten used to it. I think that it helped that before we actually use the hair dyer, we’d show it to him and tell him we’re going to use it. If he’s not too close, he would just stay where he was. If not, he’d move away.
E. also disliked stepping on patterned rugs. He’d jump over one or ask someone close to move it away, but he would never step on it. Just last month though, my sister told me he has not been avoiding the patterned rugs and actually steps on them.
The one incident last month that made me feel so hopeful was his taking the medicine which he had earlier refused to drink. It was a cough syrup which his doctor had prescribed and which my nephew had also taken before. My nephew who is now a teenager had warned me it smelled and tasted awful (I liked the smell though!) The first time I tried to give it to E., he smelled it and cried and ran away. For the second attempt, my sisters and my nephew helped me restrain him while I tried to make him drink from a medicine cup — he was kicking and screaming and ended up spitting out the (not so cheap) medicine. For the third attempt, I used an oral syringe while he was held by my sisters and nephew. The same thing — kicking, screaming and spitting out the medicine.
Finally, and thank God this came to me, I put some medicine into a cup, put it on the table, stood some three feet away from the table, looked at him, pointed at the cup, and in a louder-than-normal and very firm voice that I seldom use with him, said, “Drink!”
My dearest little boy walked up to the table, picked up the medicine cup and drank the whole thing. He was a little stunned when we all jumped up and yelled, “Yay” and “Good boy!” I swear he gave us a look that seemed to say, “What the hell?” Lol. After that, there was never a problem making him take his medicine.
E. has another trait that I hope one day soon will change. He gets extremely nervous about being touched by certain people. He is a very affectionate boy and likes kissing and hugging and being kissed and hugged in return by family and a few friends, but with strangers or people he’s not very familiar with, he would just scream or run away. In a way this is good because nobody wants to be touched by strangers, but this becomes a problem when we go see a doctor. He once kicked a doctor in the stomach while the good doctor was trying to check his throat. The doctor was sitting in a swivel chair with casters, and E. was on his father’s lap. I was so worried the doctor would get angry, but he was very gracious, and remained calm and spoke gently the whole time.
Two months ago, I brought him to his pediatrician. He wouldn’t even let the doctor use the stethoscope on him. I had to hold the chest piece part while the doctor gave me the instructions as to where put it.
Another problem that this nervousness can bring about is going through security screening at the airport and undergoing a pat-down. More than a couple of times at this one airport that E. has been through at least twice a year in the first 5 years of his life, I’ve been yelled at for not being able to control my child even after I calmly told them he’s autistic (自闭症). But there’s no way I can get angry in such a situation. I always have to remain calm or my son will become even more agitated. I just do the best I can to deal with the hurt and anger because apart from not wanting to make my son’s meltdown get even worse, I know there’s no use begging people to understand when you don’t speak their language.
My son loves airports — he knows the three airports we often go to quite well and usually go straight to the ramp even before boarding announcement, but security screening is very tough for him and for me, as well. It was not so bad when he was still a baby and even as a toddler because I could just carry him. But now, when he’s almost 4 feet tall and runs very fast, it’s a big challenge for me.
But I am hopeful. As he learns more words and he comprehends more, he will be able to go see a doctor and go through security screening without a problem. Just as he overcame his fear of the whirring of the hair dryer, his aversion to patterned rugs and certain medicines, he will overcome this nervousness about being touched.
As a mother, I want my son to learn to overcome these things which to most neurotypical people are so ordinary, so common. Yes, we all have our quirks and things we like or dislike but we can’t expect everyone to tolerate our quirkiness, so we have to learn how to control them. I believe in neuroplasticity and that my son still has a chance to be better adjusted to living in society and not growing up expecting that the rest of the world can understand him, because that’s never gonna happen.
Hoping. 🙂
Whenever I travel, I always try to get a window seat. I’m on a plane at least 4 times a month, and still I don’t get tired of looking out the window to see the clouds or the land or the ocean. There’s just something about these three viewed from above that makes them mesmerizing.
So here are some of the many photos I’ve taken from a window seat of a plane. Hope you like them.
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Windows
I’m interpreting the challenge in another way.
Not everyone will find this lamp attractive, but I like the way the light comes through the U-shaped holes. I imagine a small house in a dark forest with a light shining from the inside through the windows.
Have a beautiful Friday!
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Windows
“Beauty in things exists in the mind which contemplates them.” — David Hume
There is so much beauty and goodness in our world, but some people are more focused on what’s ugly and bad.
Even the most ordinary flower by the side of the road has its beauty. If you just learn how to stop and have a closer look, you will see.
May you find beauty in your world today. 💕
T.
Daily Prompt: Focused
I bought these flowers yesterday with my mother in mind. She would’ve turned 83 today. She loved flowers and liked to have fresh flowers on the altar, so I always bought some on Sundays when I was home.
I miss my mother. I miss hearing her voice, especially her laughter. She was a funny woman who could not tell a story without standing up and making gestures and lots of facial expression. But she only did that in front of her 4th grade pupils and us, her family. She always seemed different when with other people.
At her funeral, my sisters unanimously voted for me to give the eulogy. The youngest always gets the least easy task. I was unprepared (funeral was held three days after she passed on) — sleep-deprived, a restless 5-year-old to look after, and a flight to catch –and I was unable to deliver a eulogy my dramatic yet funny mother would have liked. Sorry, Ming.
These days what it feels like is wanting so much to speak with somebody but the person can never be there anymore. Not even a video call or even a text message. Just silence. And a big part of you just wants to break that silence even just for a minute, even if what she says is the same thing over and over again.
T.
Where were you …
When a baby was crying in hunger,
A mother was grieving over her dying child,
A beggar was looking for shelter in the cold?
You weren’t there,
And you refused to see
Or to even think of them.
And now you weep,
Alone, outside your once happy home,
Certain that nobody will come
To comfort you in your grief.
But don’t worry…
Somebody always does,
And most likely they’re the ones,
You once despised
For their silly faith
In love, sacrifice, generosity, forgiveness and sympathy.
There was nothing special about her
Nothing unusual,
Nothing that would make one
Take a second look.
Then one day, people saw
Not her ordinariness,
But the peculiar way
She died for the man
That no one else could love.
Daily Prompt: Peculiar
I took this photo this afternoon during a walk with hubby.
There is no grief, obstacle or challenge in life that we cannot overcome, if we only persist in overcoming them and not let them overcome us instead.
I’ve had my share of challenges, and I’m facing really tough ones these past couple of years, but I haven’t given up yet, and I don’t see myself giving up.
I hope you won’t give up either. 🙏🏻
Have a lovely weekend! 💕
T.
Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan, Canada
Then a plaintive cry
In crescendo,
Breaking the quiet
And the heart
From which it came.
Daily Prompt: Crescendo
I took these photos of the campus of the University of Saskatchewan while waiting for my friend who was in class.
It’s a beautiful campus, and I didn’t mind waiting at all.
Hope you like the photos.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Waiting
Reality is whatever means most to you. Some may see your reality as an illusion, but reality is perception. And what you perceive to be most important in your life is your reality.
I was reminded of this after my 4-week stay at home in Mindanao with my son and my sisters and nephews, in a city 45-minutes from Marawi where war is raging. Every single day, we’d hear helicopters or planes on their way to Marawi. Every single day I was there, there’d be ambulance sirens. Soldiers with rifles walked around the city (this is a common sight though. We’ve always had soldiers or policemen patrolling the streets, even outside our cathedral.) By 9pm, the streets were quiet because of the curfew (our island is under Martial Law.)
I have never personally thanked any of the soldiers I saw in the mall (young men and women in their routine break from the war doing their shopping). I really wanted to, but I didn’t want them to think I was being weird or whatever. But I am truly grateful, as most of the residents in our city are, for these soldiers’ bravery and dedication. Because of them Iliganons are able to sleep well at night, secure in the thought that they would never let the enemies take our city the way Marawi was taken.
Now that I’m back in “safe” China, I am able to think again and look back at life in Mindanao.
In those 4 weeks, I was so busy “living” that I had little time for thinking and socializing — no Facebook, no Twitter, no WordPress, no texting. I had lunch with a couple of friends twice, and that was all the socializing I did. Every day I was busy being a mother to my son, and being a sister to my sisters and an aunt to my nephews, and spoke with my husband for a few minutes on the phone. I didn’t have time nor the interest to read or watch the news. I was so out of the loop in what was going on outside of my family.
Yet I didn’t feel I was missing out on anything.
Home. Family. This is my reality; this is what is most important — that the ones I care about the most are safe, and that we are whole as a family.
This is my reality. What is yours?
Berry Barn, Saskatoon, Canada
She silently knits,
As he sips his coffee,
Both sitting quietly
Next to each other.
Buddies in youth,
Partners for life,
Living their years
Peacefully, contentedly
Side by side.
A symphony of natural beauty
Here’s a collection of photos I took from the day my plane landed in Vancouver to the week I spent in Alberta, and to the last day I spent in Saskatchewan.
Canada is a beautiful country, and the Canadians I’ve met are such wonderful people. 💕
I took these photos in Saskatchewan, Canada. The birch bark photo was taken at the Berry Barn in Saskatoon, and the rest at the Boundary Bog Trail at the Prince Albert National Park.
Enjoy! 💕
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Textures
Yesterday my friend took me to the Berry Barn, a wonderful place where you can pick berries, see different flowers, shop for things for your garden, and jams and tea and all sorts of souvenirs, or have a meal or snacks in their cozy cafe with a view of the South Saskatchewan River.
What attracted me most was the … flowers. I hope you enjoy these photos as much as I did taking them.
Have a lovely Wednesday! 💕
T.
I arrived in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan yesterday afternoon. And this morning I walked around Kinsmen Park which is quite close to where my friends live.
I’m really liking Canada (in the summer). I love the big old trees, and wide, open spaces. As I walked, I imagined how my son would love lying on the lawn and looking up at the sky.
Enjoy the photos!
I took a picture of this tree because I think it’s climbable, and I miss climbing trees!
E. would surely love running around or lying down on the grass and looking up at the sky.
Walking around a park or any place where I can appreciate the beauty of nature gives me satisfaction. These past couple of days I’ve seen so much beauty in Canada. So much beauty gives one so much satisfaction. 😊
I hope you enjoy the photos. 💕
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Satisfaction
Beautiful weather welcomed me today in Vancouver. So even if I had no sleep for over 24 hours, I was eager to see the city during a 17-hour layover. My first impression is there are so many Asians. I only got to walk around the University of British Columbia where I met with a former student (Chinese) who is doing a summer program there. I met her classmates who are also Chinese, and everywhere I went I heard Mandarin. It really felt like I was just in China, except that everyone can speak English.
I didn’t get to take as many pictures as I wanted to as I wasn’t feeling well. But I’ll definitely do that when I come back to Vancouver next week. For now, I’ll sing with Neil Young…”Think I’ll go out to Alberta…🎶🎵.”
I hope you enjoy the photos.
Have a lovely week! 💕
T.
This is the trunk of one of the many mango tress that line the roads of our campus. It seems this mango tree is dying even though its leaves are still very green. I don’t know if this has anything to do with the disastrous super typhoon that struck the city last year, or that this tree is very old.
I took this photo a week before I left Xiamen. Perhaps by the time I get back weeks from now, this tree shall have been replaced by a healthier-looking one. Like everything in China, old stuff can easily be replaced. Even trees.
Daily Prompt: Disastrous
Here’s a collage of photos of tropical fruits in a supermarket here in Xiamen. They are all imported from Southeast Asia; the bananas are from the Philippines.
I’ll be home soon. Then I can savor the taste of these luscious tropical fruits at a much cheaper price! Yay!
Have a great week ahead!
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Collage
Three years ago, when I told friends about my son’s diagnosis, a few of them told me about the movie “Temple Grandin.” I kept putting off watching it because I knew I would just cry, and I was tired of crying. I did read her book , Thinking in Pictures after a friend sent me a copy, and it was moving and eye-opening and encouraged me to help my son and believe he will be able to cope eventually.
My husband still has not watched the film and won’t. Like me, he thinks it will just be a painful experience. It was painful when I finally decided to watch it yesterday. It’s perhaps the only movie that had me crying from beginning to end, NOT because it was sentimental – far from being sentimental, I think the writers and director and Claire Dane’s portrayal of Ms. Grandin, achieved a kind of objectivity in the story-telling – but because there are many details that I could relate to as a mother of an autistic child and as a person who self-identifies as autistic.
One of the most painful scenes for me was the mother’s conversation with the doctor who diagnosed Temple with autism. When the mother asked about the cause of autism, the doctor hesitantly answered it was a form of schizophrenia brought about by a lack of maternal affection. (This was in the 1950’s, and we can understand that back then not much was known about autism.) Temple’s mother cried saying her baby was born normal, and that Temple later changed; that she wanted to hug her, but Temple didn’t like to be hugged.
(I am just grateful that my son is very affectionate. That would’ve really made it worse for me if my son didn’t like to be hugged.)
The doctor also recommended that Temple be institutionalized, which her mother refused to do.
Temple is so blessed (lucky, if you don’t like the word “blessed”) that she had a mother who pushed her to do things that might have been uncomfortable for her but truly helped her to live independently. Had her mother let her be, she would have remained alone in her own world.
So many times I’ve read articles written by supposedly high functioning autistic people diagnosed in their adulthood, decrying the treatment they received from their parents or other carers or teachers, when, as a child, they were forced to do things that they were uncomfortable with. And now as adults, they just want to be able to do whatever they want; they don’t care what others think about them; and they expect people to accept their autism (unusual behaviors, meltdowns, etc.). They expect, demand tolerance.
To me this is very unrealistic. You live in a society. You may not like the idea, but the truth is – you cannot live entirely on your own. You need people. You need society. Unless you go hide in a cave and live with the bats.
Temple’s mother knew this. Her science teacher, Mr. Carlock, knew this. Temple realized this later on — she had to change; she had to learn to adapt to society.
The world does not revolve around you. You are not special (though you may be to your parents). You are just one of the 7.5 billion people on this planet. Each person has his/her own personality, issues, problems. You cannot demand tolerance for your behavior when you are intolerant of their own. In this world, in our reality, you will meet all kinds of people – not everyone will accept you for who you are, yet you may have to sit next to them in class or at the cafeteria; work in the same office as them; serve them their coffee. You can’t just run away or be angry with these kind of people every time you have to deal them. You have to learn to adjust to different kinds of people because they too have to learn to adjust to people like you.
And this is one thing I hope my son will learn – how to live in society.
Perhaps I am like most parents of autistic children, I worry about how my son will live without me. I cannot watch over him forever. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night thinking what if somebody hurts him at school, and he can’t tell anybody about it? What if as an adult, he will be taken advantage of, and he wouldn’t even know it?
Temple did not begin talking until she was 4, but her mother did not give up on trying to get her to speak. She did not want to go to college to talk with people, but her mother pushed her to do so, and she went on to pursue a Masters and a PhD.
There is only admiration on my part for Temple’s mom, her aunt and her science teacher – people who saw her potential, believed in her and pushed her to be the best she could be.
Not everyone has the financial capability that Temple’s family had, but I think every child can have at least one person who will not give up on them, who will not leave them to live in their own world, and push them to live more meaningful lives.
I have never been very ambitious. My best friend used to tell me I have a small brain because I want so little in this life. As a mother, I do not want much for my son either. I just want him to be able to live independently and be happy. And that’s my only goal.
That’s the only item on my bucket list that truly matters.
For this week’s photo challenge, I made a collage of all the purple/purplish flowers I used on this blog. Why flowers? Because I love flowers. Why purple? Because…why not purple? Lol. I realized I have several purple flowers in my folder.
Have a lovely day!
T.💕
Weekly Photo Challenge: Collage
Underneath the smiles
And the occasional laughter,
Lies hidden
The pain of burying
Words that cry out to be heard,
Acts that desire completion.
Some secrets are best carried to the grave.
“By understanding the enemy and yourself, you can engage in a hundred battles without ever being in danger.” — Sun Zi 孙子
This is good advice not only for those who have enemies but also those who battle challenges, temptations. Some of us don’t have enemies, but on a daily basis we are confronted with situations that test the firmness of our character, our grit.
As important as knowing what we are up against is knowing what we are and what we are not capable of doing. We need an honest assessment of ourselves and work from there. If we truly understand who or what we are up against, and we truly understand our strengths and weaknesses, we can be confident of not being defeated.
You can play with fire with the confidence that you won’t get burned. 😁
T.
(I’ve been rereading Sun Zi’s Art of War. It’s always an interesting read.)
Zhongshan Park, Xiamen
Into her life,
Saying , “Today’s the day,
I start anew.”
But his capering nature
Couldn’t make him stay.
And he capered away
Out of her life.
Zhongshan Park, Xiamen
The savage in you
Like to tickle me
To death – you
Relish seeing me squirm
When your hands start sneaking slowly
D
O
W
N
My arms, my waist
Then up the sides of my breasts
Where your fingers deftly move
Like a pianist’s hands on the keys
Or a wolf’s claws on its prey.
July 5, 2000
(Written 17 years ago when love meant something totally different. Sigh.)
Your roots savagely grow down
From you, growing faster and stronger
As they reach the ground
And later strangle you.
You from whom they came from.
If you could stop them,
Would you?
(Banyan trees are also known as “strangler figs” for their “strangling” growth habit. The roots descend from the branches and grow a pseudotrunk that makes it look like it’s strangling the main trunk. Unfortunately I don’t have a photo of a pseudotrunk although I’ve seen so many here in Xiamen. I chose these two photos for the way the roots seem to grow savagely from the branches.)
May you have a CALM week, not a savage one. 💕😁
T.
This year Xiamen hosts the 9th BRICS (Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa) summit from September 3 to 5. The city has been preparing for the summit for some time, and this is the reason the whole city, not only Xiamen island, but its district on the mainland as well, has seen so many changes — all to make Xiamen more attractive.
Right after super typhoon Meranti struck Xiamen last year, Jimei looked so dark at night viewed from the plane. It was such a sad sight
But these days, Jimei is all lit up, and I enjoy walking around the campus in the early evening when the lights are on.
Have a lovely weekend!💕
T.
I wrote this in December 2016. I don’t remember why I didn’t post this though. Perhaps later I will re-read this and realize why I didn’t and then take it down. Lol. I’m looking forward to the next season of WW. But first, Game of Thrones!
This new bridge over Yinjiang Road is an overpass for pedestrians. It’s not as yet operational as the workers have not finished painting. It’s just one of the many things to see in China. Here, there’s construction going on everywhere you go.
Jimei Bridge, completed in 2008, has a total length of 10 km. It connects Xiamen Island to the mainland at Jimei District.
This is one of my favorite photos and also the one that received the most likes in this blog so far. I took this photo as the plane from the Philippines was about to land. I left home to come to my second home. And this bridge will get me there.
T. 💕
Weekly Photo Challenge: Bridge
Northern Mindanao, Philippines
These days I would rather travel by plane than be on a ship, especially if I have to travel in the evening. I don’t care if Bradley Cooper is on the same ship, I would never travel by boat at night.
Northern Mindanao, Philippines
Don’t get me wrong. I love the sea, the ocean. See, I made this watercolor because I really like this view of a boat sailing on the sea. When I made this, I was imagining myself being on that boat watching the horizon. But now several months have passed, and I look at this again, I’m thinking that can’t be me. I’d never get on a boat alone.
The title of this post is in quotation marks because it’s a reference to Queen’s song of the same title. I was reminded of this song after I finished reading Balzac’s Father Goriot, which is such a tragic novel about a man who had spoiled his beautiful daughters, sacrificed himself for them but whom he didn’t get to even see before he died.
M. Goriot’s mistake was loving his daughters too much that he forgot to teach them what they needed to learn to be able to live independently. Perhaps his spoiling them was his way of making himself feel needed by his children for the rest of his life. And that he surely got from them — they needed and got his money until he was left with nothing except for the rags he was wearing.
One of his daughter’s, Anastasie, also made the same mistake in loving a man (not her husband) who made her happy but who was only using her to support his gambling. She gave up everything — husband, children, father, her reputation for this lover who only loved her for her money.
In a lecture by the neuroscientist, Vilayanur Ramachandran, he talks about a hypothetical situation where he, in his capacity as a neuroscientist, shows a woman the brain scan of a man who is supposed to be in love with her and which parts of the brain are activated. The woman says, “My God! Is that all? It’s all a bunch of chemicals?” Ramanchadran advises the young man to say, “My dear, this proves it’s all real. I really am in love with you. I’m not faking it….”
Now that we know that “love” is all a bunch of chemicals, we ought to be more careful about how it controls us.
If we are aware of how our bodies are reacting to the presence of another person, and we think it is “love,” we ought to ask ourselves if this “love” is right or wrong for us and the person we “love.” If it’s only “good” for our bodies, I don’t think it’s wise to simply give in. (My friend would say, “Jeez, just don’t think!” But I say, YOU HAVE TO THINK!)
Be it romantic love or fraternal love or paternal love, our actions should be guided by reason not just by what our bodies tell us. I know sometimes it’s easier said than done, but at least we can try.
Don’t let love kill you.😇
T. 💕
JMU at 6A.M.
Yesterday I went out for a walk at about 5:15 in the morning. These days sunrise is usually around 5:30. As most of the students have already left for the summer, the campus was blissfully quiet when I walked around.
Jimei at 6:30 P.M.
In the evening, I went out again after spending the whole day working on the computer. This time I went out of the campus. I took a picture of this new bridge that will replace the rickety temporary one that they put up after closing the old underpass, which I kind of miss because of the memory I have of the people who were always there during my first year here: the friendly fruit lady, and the old man who played the erhu, the melody of which echoed around the walls of the underpass and even above ground.
Jimei at 7:15 P.M.
Getting back to the campus, I walked towards the west side. I took a photo of these new apartment buildings situated in what I used to think was a swamp. A taxi driver whom I’ve known for as long as I’ve been here once told us that they used to take a boat from their home on the southern part of the district to this place where these buildings are now.
For me, Jimei has changed so much in just over a decade. For the quinquagenarians and older, even more so.
Everything changes. Everyone changes.
All one can do is move on.
Have a lovely weekend!💕
T.
This is a ship music box that a friend gave me about ten years ago before he left China. It had been sitting in my office for years until one day a year ago, I brought my son to the office, and not finding anything else that interested him, I gave him this. It plays Fur Elise (Mozart never fails to calm him down) as the wheel goes round, and that was all that was needed to keep him in one place. So then I brought it home.
I never consciously taught my son to call it a music box. He knows the words “ship” and “boat,” but somehow he did not associate those words with this thing. One day, though, when he wanted to play with this but he couldn’t reach it, he grabbed my hand to try to get me to reach for it saying, “There!” And I said, “What is it? What do you want?” And he thought and later blurted, “Ferris wheel!”
That wheel DOES look like a Ferris wheel!
I corrected him, but that got me thinking about how we perceive things. I guess for him because it’s only the wheel that moves and it makes a sound as it does, that was all he could see. He couldn’t really see the ship.
Have a lovely Wednesday! 💕
T.
Daily Prompt: Wheel
Mango: my favorite fruit. The sweetest mangoes I’ve ever tasted were from the Philippines.
These ones are from a local supermarket here in Xiamen but they are imported from I’m not sure which Southeast Asian country. Or maybe they are just from Hainan.
Back home we would slice these green mangoes into strips and dip it into a mix of soy sauce and vinegar. It’s sour and salty and just thinking about it makes my mouth water.
I don’t have a picture of it here, but the Carabao mango or Philippine mango, locally grown in Zambales, is supposedly the sweetest mango in the world.
If you’re looking for something to satisfy your sweet tooth, try Philippine mangoes. 🙂
Happy Tuesday!
T.
As a child, I always either cringed or ran away at the sight of insects (especially flying ones like moths and cockroaches) and bats! Now I’m married to a man who grew up in a farm and finds insects fascinating.
We noticed this moulting cicada one afternoon while we were walking, and my first question was, “Is it going to fly?” He assured me it wasn’t going to fly. Yet. So I got my phone camera ready and started snapping pictures of this creature that would normally make me cringe, but which my husband looked at with…a meaningful smile.
I got to see this cicada shedding off its skin and growing its wings just a couple of days after my husband and I watched Alien:Covenant (not my kind of movie, but when you’re married you sometimes have to watch movies that you don’t like!) This cicada reminded me of the creatures that the android character, David, created. The word “beautiful” never came to mind. But after seeing this photo on my iPad with my reading glasses on … I thought it looks quite interesting.
Perhaps those things that usually make us cringe just need a closer inspection. Perhaps we’ll change our minds.
But nah, I’m not interested in taking a closer look at cockroaches.
Have a lovely Monday! 💕
T.
A patch of blue sky on a cloudy day in Jimei
It was only after I got married that I formed a different idea of commitment. Before marriage, I was committed to making myself happy. I was always my first priority — if I was unhappy, or worse, angry, I showed it and never mind if somebody else became unhappy or angrier than I as a consequence. Marriage made me realize that commitment means not only pledging or binding yourself to your partner but also doing what is best for both of you. And sometimes what is best for both husband and wife is humility, which is quite a tall order of a virtue.
I know I am not an easy person to live with, but my husband is committed to being with me for the rest of our lives, and so am I with him. I have a personality that I’m sure no other man would be able to tolerate, but my husband does. And for that I’m grateful. Both of us have changed so much in over a decade of being married, and despite the many trials we’ve been through we’ve managed to remain each other’s best friend. I guess we both have accepted who and what we are — good and bad, and just remain focused on our first priority, which is not our individual selves, but our son. To me, that’s commitment.
Have a lovely weekend! 💕
When we were just little girls, my sisters and I collected scented stationery. Those sheets looked so pretty and smelled so sweet, we couldn’t write on them. We just looked at them. Well, some of them. There finally came a time when we used them to write to someone who deserved such beautiful paper. Of course we made sure our handwriting didn’t ruin the look of the paper.
Three years ago, my friend gave me this boxed set of notecards and envelopes. They look so pretty I still haven’t used them. I know one day I’ll be able to scribble a few lines for someone who deserves such a beautiful note card.
But that person will have to decipher my handwriting.
Have a lovely weekend! 💕
T.
Daily Prompt: Paper
Jimei Bridge, Xiamen
For the last two years, I’ve been flying home every month, which means at least four flights a month. So I feel something like a transient in the two cities I call home. They are both home, yet when I am in either place, it seems I’m only there as a guest.
I am hopeful that this year, I will cease feeling like a transient and have more stability in my life. I hope my whole family can be together in one safe place. 🙏🏻
T. 💕
Weekly Photo Challenge: Transient
There are people who can’t seem to stop meddling in others’ personal lives. They will say they care about us, so they feel they have to say something. Sometimes we may appreciate being told, other times we may think it’s annoying.
As now I have only a few people with whom I talk about myself freely, I don’t have this problem anymore. I don’t have to be rude and tell anyone, “Get off my back!”
Have a stress-free day! 💕
T.
Daily Prompt: Meddle
This may sound very simplistic, but it is quite true: when I am stressed out, all I need is some alone time (not necessarily a quiet place, but a place where I don’t have to talk to anybody) and a bit of nature to to look at — flowers, trees, lake — and then I can recover. My problems may not be solved, but at least I’d have the energy and the clarity of mind to face them.
When people are unhappy about things, they want to cure themselves of this unhappiness as quickly as possible, and do things that most often just add to their unhappiness. I think we ought to embrace this unhappiness first before we let it go. And then we can look to nature to remind ourselves that everything is being taken care of.
“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” –Luke 12:27
I believe nature can help heal our unhappiness. We just need to spend time with it and be relieved of our worries by it.
“Nature loves patience: always remember that. It is a law given her of God Himself, who has blessed all those who are strong to endure.” –– Gogol, Dead Souls
May you find relief from all your troubles. 💕
T.
T.
Create. I pondered on this word and realized this should make any creative, thinking human feel humble. We try to “create” beautiful things, useful things, amazing things, but what we create can never surpass nature.
Nature’s beauty and design are beyond amazing.
Have an amazing Saturday!
T. 💕
Daily Prompt: Create
I heard about Me Before You from my friend who thinks the romantic moments in the movie are “right up your alley.” I’m glad my friend thinks I am the romantic type instead of cold-hearted, but the most touching moments of the movie for me, have nothing to do with the love story but the ones in the background. I watched this movie while on a 2-hour flight, and my eyes were red by the time we landed.
There are only two areas on which I would limit my review: character and themes.
(Spoiler alert: If you haven’t seen the movie yet, then stop reading.)
Character:
I find the character of Louisa Clark (Emilia Clarke) too nice, meaning not very credible. She is too likable. The audience are meant to like her, and I did like her and if she were a real person, I’d wish her infinite happiness. But a part of me is conscious of the manner in which her character is so contrived as to make viewers instantly like her. So, that’s one of the few things that didn’t impress me.
Her boyfriend, Patrick, is just as flat: self-absorbed to the end. There is nothing about the boyfriend that will make us like him even just a little bit. As a minor character, he serves a foil to the thoughtful character of Will.
The parents of Louisa and those of Will (Sam Claflin) on the other hand, though minor characters seem more real than the previous two mentioned.
As one of the two main characters, Will Traynor is fully developed as a character: from a fun-loving, adventurous, successful young man to an unhappy, helpless, hopeless quadriplegic, who finds a reason to smile in Clarke’s quirkiness.
Themes:
Selfishness/Selflessness
As people we swing between the selfishness/selflessness pendulum. Louisa selflessly decided to keep a job in her hometown to help her parents. But later she selfishly asked Will to forego his plan to end his life in Switzerland, telling him confidently (to me, it’s more like overconfidently) that she could make her happy.
People may not view her offer as selfishness especially when she is willing to take care of him, but I do. She’s thinking of her own happiness, not his pain, not his daily struggle. I believe no one outside ourselves can truly make us happy or comfort us in our deepest sorrows. Sure, there are those who can make us smile for a while, but at the end of the day we deal with our own thoughts and feelings.
Choice
When told that it’s Will’s choice to end his life in Dignitas in Switzerland, Mrs. Clark says, “Some choices you don’t get to make. He [Will] is not in his right mind.” But Will is in his right mind; he made a choice after careful thought. He knows he’s never going to get better. He is in pain every single day. He cannot do anything by himself.
While I admire people with disability who are optimistic about life and fight to live despite all the pain and difficulties that come with it, I also respect those who choose to leave this world and end the pain that they have to bear daily, and no longer see how much those who love them suffer as much as they do in caring for them.
Louisa is confident that she’ll never regret being with Will and taking care of him, but Will is more realistic and says, “You don’t know that.” It is not easy to care for someone who is in terrible pain and who is never going to get better because they themselves do not find it the least bit easy to live on a daily basis.
Will Traynor’s parents at first don’t want to let him go. He is their son. Their only child. The natural cycle is for children to bury their parents, not the parents burying their child. But in the end they have to give in to his wish and let him die, with them by his side. That takes a lot of courage. This is the most touching moment in the movie for me –the parents being there for their son.
As a mother, I almost feel physical pain when I see my son in pain. When he cries because he’s hurt, it’s painful to watch. So I can only imagine how painful it must be for parents to watch their son/daughter in pain on a daily basis, and worse, to watch him die.
Me Before You is a romantic drama, and romantic souls will like this movie. However, the romance part didn’t move me at all. It’s the idea of having the right to end one’s life and parental love that made me think.
Have a relaxing weekend!
T 💕
P.S. One other thing I like about this movie is the soundtrack. I especially love Imagine Dragon’s “Not Today.” Click here for a link to the video.
Just like I don’t have the confidence to call myself a writer, I cannot ever call myself a photographer. But I enjoy writing and taking pictures among other things that introverts like myself enjoy doing.
When I take photos, I try to make them look the same way I see them with my own eyes. And to me it can be very difficult sometimes because first, my hands aren’t very steady; second, I do not know much about lighting and that kind of stuff; and third, I just use either my iPhone or my iPad to take pictures.
One time while I was walking with a friend, I stopped to take pictures of flowers, and he shook his head and asked, “Why do you take pictures?”
Good question. That time I only said because I like doing so. But having thought about it, I think I now know the answer.
Perhaps subconsciously it is an attempt on my part to capture moments that are simply that — moments, ephemeral, temporary. There may be flowers and leaves and trees everywhere, but as Robert Burns said, “And this same flower that smiles today, / Tomorrow will be dying.”
They may look the same, but it’s not the same flower, not the same moment, not the same minute.
Every photograph is a record not only of the subject (flower, leaf, sunset, or ocean) but also of a certain ME, at a certain time, at a certain place with a certain person. Everything we do leads us somewhere. We are always changing. Everything around us changes. As Heraclitus famously said, “No man can ever step in the same river twice.”
You can’t record every minute of your life. But you can keep photographs of certain moments of it.
Have a lovely week!
T.💕
Weekly Photo Challenge: Focus
It had just stopped raining this morning when hubby and I went out for a walk. The trees and the roads had a good washing, and the leaves looked beautiful with drops of rain still clinging on them.
T. 💕
Daily Pronpt: Taper
Misamis Oriental, Philippines
There’s chaos in some parts of Mindanao, but in some areas like Misamis Oriental where the airport is, there’s peace and calm and order.
I had asked the driver to stop at this spot. The farmer agreed with a smile when I asked if I could take a picture. My family and I were on our way to an airport hotel where we could spend the night before my flight back the next day. I didn’t want to miss my flight because of the curfew and numerous checkpoints (at least 6 during a one-hour drive, but the soldiers were all courteous and friendly!)
Being home and seeing how people were scared but were fighting their fear by trying as best they could to live as normally as possible, I was greatly encouraged, and I’m very proud of my fellow Mindanaoans.
Lohas Hotel, Laguindingan, Misamis Oriental
With or without Martial Law, life goes on in Mindanao. There’s still some kind of order.
Have a peaceful week!
T.
I have to admit I am a little scared to go home to Mindanao this time. I actually cried as I was packing this morning. Living for so many years in China where the only explosions I hear are from firecrackers or fireworks, I have become too comfortable and a little cowardly. In 2001, when the government declared an all-out war with the rebels, I dared to go to Marawi to accompany my journalist friend who was going to interview a religious leader there. On our way to Marawi, we could see and hear helicopters strafing certain areas. I was scared, but also thought of it as an adventure, something I could boast about later on.
Then I left for China. Seven years later when I went home in the summer for a visit, rebels threatened to attack my city. It was the first time I felt real FEAR. Seeing my sister deathly pale and cold, watching my mother pray the rosary as we all huddled in the bedroom, I nearly went crazy with fear.
Now, I am going home again to a conflict-ridden Mindanao. I envy my fellow Mindanaoans , who do not allow their fear to defeat them, who continue to believe that this too shall pass. I have lost my Mindanaoan courage and optimism, but I hope to get them back when I arrive home. Soon.
Peace.
T.
Impressions of my two homes: Jimei, China and Iligan, Philippines
Jimei, China
Jimei, China
Iligan, Philippines
Iligan, Philippines
Weekly Photo Challenge: Evanescent
Dalipuga, Iligan
You let me wander,
And now I’m unmoored,
A paper boat adrift in the ocean.
Soon I’ll be soaked
And sink
Unless you change your mind
And come rescue me.
Save me.
Daily Prompt: Unmoored
As an introvert and a creature of habit, I get stressed when my routine gets thrown off especially by socializing with people with whom I’m not really keen on socializing. A friend asked why I meet with such people when I don’t like doing so. The answer is simple: because as a member of society, I have to.
I have a very small circle of people I get in regular contact with, and I usually initiate the communication. So when I have to meet with people outside that circle and put on some kind of a role, where I make “polite” conversation, I get exhausted after such an “event.” It IS like an event.
You may say, ” You don’t have to pretend! Just be yourself.” Now, if being myself is looking unhappy while having a meal with people, is that a good thing? You may also say, “Nobody is forcing you to hang out with these people.” Well, I am forcing myself to hang out with these people because I do not want them to think there is something wrong with them that I do not want to spend time with them! This is really true — it’s NOT them; it’s ME! Just because I do not find them interesting or like listening to them does not mean they are bad people. They are not, so I do not want to hurt their feelings. Besides, what I feel about them is not a rational judgment of them as a person. What I feel does not really determine who or what they are, but it says so much about who and what I am. Hence, I socialize and suffer afterwards.
So what do I do to de-stress after socializing? I go to a place where I don’t know anybody and nobody knows me. And then I go dark.
Earlier today I visited a park I had not been to in 10 years, and right now I’m writing this as I’m having coffee at a McDonald’s I had not been to in at least 5 years. It’s a busy place, but nobody’s talking to me, and I’m at peace.
Is it age that makes me get easily exhausted after socializing and disoriented after a change in routine? Or am I no different from my son?
Here are some photos I took at the park.
Hope you have a relaxing weekend!
T.
Sunrise over Visayas, Philippines. I took this photo early this month on a trip back to Mindanao.
It may sound cheesy but … the beauty of the sun reflected on the the ocean made me reflect on the beauty of nature. And I’m grateful for this beauty and for being able to witness and experience it.
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Reflecting
“Violet by a mossy stone
Half-hidden from the eye …” — Wordsworth
I saw this beautiful little flower by the side of the road during my morning walk last weekend. From a distance, it truly looked quite ordinary but, since I had not seen this kind of flower before, I knelt down and took a closer look. I thought it was beautiful, so I took this photo.
This particular violet flower is no longer “half-hidden from the eye.” Its beauty is exposed for my readers to see. 🙂
Have a lovely week!
T.
Blue, blue sky
White cottony clouds,
Cool breeze blowing the hair from my face,
Warm water touching our feet,
And your soft little hand in mine
Holding tightly, afraid of being let go,
Days like this are few and far between
And make moments like these
More precious than anything money can buy.
Until next time, my dear son,
When things will be better
.
The sign says: Boardwalk is broken-down and needs to be repaired. Do not use.
But in the evening, young people (call them adventurous or foolish) still walk or sit on this decrepit boarded path.
When you’re young, you tend to think you’re invincible. You tend to ignore danger.
But when you’re no longer young, you can’t afford to ignore it.
Have a lovely week!
T.
I’ve been taking this same early morning flight every month for over a year now. Each time, the beauty of the sunrise amazes me like I’m seeing it for the first time.
This time though, before heading home from the airport, I decided to stop at the beach just 15 minutes away from the airport, so my son can enjoy the early morning breeze and play with the white sand in the cool, clear water.
It was truly a beautiful Saturday morning with the family, especially with my son, on our beautiful island of Mindanao.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Wanderlust
Dark roots,
Light roots,
Thick roots,
Thin roots,
Weak roots,
Powerful roots.
They have their own will.
They go where they want to go.
Strange roots.
The sky may be gray,
But you’re right here, next to me
I will be OK.
——
Have a lovely week!
T.
I saw this flower yesterday for the very first time. I haven’t gotten around to finding out what it’s called. The colors and their arrangement really attracted me.
Today’s Prompt is “spike.” From this angle, one cannot see the spike (stalk) that holds the flower together, yet, though not as conspicuous as the petals, it is part of this flower’s beauty.
Have a beautiful weekend!
T.
We are roots
Spreading out
In all directions,
Holding on
To Mother Earth,
Sucking her dry,
Until nothing remains
But us and our greed.
Weekly a Photo Challenge: Earth
Stay away from me
Give me some peace
Please.
This body’s weak.
It can hardly stand,
But the mind’s
More than awake.
It searches
And begs
For the ship’s
That’s sailed.
A KIND OF ODE TO THE DURIAN
They say you are
Thorny
Heavy
And stinky.
But when I see you
When I smell you
This tired and sleepy body
Jolts into wakefulness…
I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the smell of durian as much as my sisters HATE, HATE, HATE it. Like they say, “its strong, pungent smell either delights or repels. ”
Durian: does it jolt your appetite? Or does it jolt you into running as far away from it and as fast as you can?
Have a lovely week!
T.
Happy Easter!
This is the second time I’m posting a photo of the sky looking like this. And this is from the second time I saw it like this. The Chinese call it 火烧云 (huo shao yun) literally translated “fire burning sky.”
Each time, the sight surprised, amazed me.
Nature surprises.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Surprise
Blindly we love
Blindly we hate
Blindly we believe
That love can defeat all hate.
It can’t.
Only commitment can.
A nicer way to say, “You never know what you have until you lose it.”
Have a peaceful and relaxing weekend.
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Security
One of my sisters is crazy about things purple. So far she hasn’t thought of dyeing her hair purple, or maybe she has but can’t bring herself to do it, which is good.
So whenever I buy her something, I make sure it’s purple. One good thing (for her, (but not so much for me) about her obsession is whenever I see something of this color I immediately think of her, and even if I’m not interested in the thing itself, part of me is tempted to buy it for her. Grrrr.
When I saw these flowers on campus, of course I remembered my sister. Luckily for me, she’s not crazy about flowers.
Have a lovely a week!
T.
These are all the “greens” I could find on my iPad.
Three were taken in China, one in the Philippines. And they’re different shades of green, no?
Have a lovely week ahead!
T.
I’m not entirely sure if it’s mere coincidence that last night I read Nikolai Gogol’s The Overcoat , and this afternoon, I watched the second episode of The Young Pope where Jude Law’s Pope Pius XIII spoke to the faithful for the first time, and he said something like we have to be closer to God than to each other, that he will never be closer to the people than he is to God because we are all alone before God.
Akakievitch’s death was truly tragic, just as tragic as his life. Tragic to the reader, anyway. If he existed in our times, he would probably be diagnosed as being on the spectrum and would get some help. But in the story, in his adult life, no one cared about him.
The quote I pasted on the photo reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend a few years back. I told him how the sight of so many people who came to my father’s funeral made me think there would be very few people who would come to my own funeral because as I grow older I’ve become less sociable, less friendly. Especially now that I’ve been away from home for 14 years, and most of my friends and former students have left the city or the country, and I don’t visit friends or relatives whenever I go home; I don’t attend family (clan) reunions….
At my mother’s funeral last year, I was moved by the number of people who came to condole with us. A lot of them I’ve never even seen before — my sisters’ co-workers and friends, my mother’s former co-workers and students, my father’s former co-workers. It was comforting to see so many people cared about my family enough to come to my mother’s funeral. My parents were luckier than Akakievitch.
Now and then I would remind my husband not to die ahead of me, or I would never forgive him. We often laugh when I start talking about this, but we both know I am serious. No way he’s dying before me. Good thing is we agree this is a good idea.
Having said that, I’ve decided to try to be a little more sociable again. Not because I want people to remember me, but because I want my husband and my son to find comfort in the thought that they’re not alone, that there are people who care enough to come to my funeral.
In today’s society where fake online friendships are common, will people care if one day you just disappear? Or will you be like Akakiy Akakievitch whose death mattered to no one?
Franz Kafka became one of my favorite authors after I read The Metamorphosis. The two stories In the Penal Colony and The Hunger Artist” were just as interesting to me. More than a couple of times in the past years I tried to read The Trial, but I couldn’t finish reading it. Until two days ago, that is.
After reading the last few sentences of this novel, (even though I hate to admit that this came out of my mouth, but it really did) I went, “WTF?” And to me, that’s what I am supposed to take away from the novel — that it was simply absurd. That life is absurd.
The only way I can explain what this novel seemed to me like is: Imagine you are dreaming, and in your dream you are the same YOU in your waking life; and even though everything and everyone else around you is acting strange, you react in the same way you would in your reality.
The whole time I was reading, I kept asking the questions, “What was his crime? What did he do? Why weren’t they telling him? Why didn’t he insist on being clearly told what his crime was?”
Reading this novel gave me the same kind of feeling (though not literally) that the main character, Josef K., had when he went to the court offices for the first time: “It was as if he was suffering sea-sickness.” The novel just kept getting stranger and stranger as I read. It was not like this with The Metamorphosis where I was prepared for the strangeness because right at the beginning, I knew it would be strange because — who wakes up and finds himself transformed into a giant insect?
This novel might not have made me question and ponder on things like Dostoevsky’s novels have, but it’s left me with a very strong feeling that life can truly seem absurd, surreal, that if we look closely into our day-to-day life, we would find a lot of absurdities.
————-
My weekend starts on a Thursday evening, so…I hope you have a not-so-absurd weekend. 🙂
T.
This week’s theme for the Weekly Photo Challenge is “Wish,” which is quite apt for my situation at this moment when I’m at the airport, again, to go home and see my son and be with my sisters as we remember our mom’s passing a year ago this month. I was informed a couple of hours ago that my connecting flight has been cancelled due to maintenance work on one of the air traffic radars.
This is just a 5-day trip, and I have to be back at work on Wednesday, but now I might have to spend a day in Manila and waste time not being with my son.
I’ve used this photograph before, but he is all I can think of right now.
My wish is to see my son tomorrow.
As I was walking back from work to my apartment the other night, I passed by a young lady talking on her phone and crying . I couldn’t understand what she was saying (my Mandarin is not good enough), but I felt sad for her and said a little prayer — that she’d be healed of whatever hurt she has in her heart right now.
That wanting to pray for this crying stranger came so spontaneously. And it reminded me of the time I tried to become a nun and had evening prayers with the Sisters. Every night we would gather at the chapel, pick up a breviary and pray together. There was always time for prayer requests, and at least one of the sisters would always, without fail, mention praying for those who were sick, at home or in the hospital, those who were traveling, and those who were heartbroken….
Why pray for strangers? (I think even an atheist has some way of expressing their hopes that somebody in pain can be healed of that pain.)
Every time I read or hear something about how the brain works in different people and affects their perception, behavior and just about everything in their lives, I cannot help feeling sorry for human beings who are judged as sick or evil.
Everyone of us has a story to tell; and everything we are or have become is a product of not only what we have been through in our lifetime, but also of what our brains are like. I honestly believe that if we truly know a person — not only what he is, but more importantly, how he became what he is, there is no way we can ever feel anger for the person, no matter how “bad” he is. We will only have compassion for such a person.
I am not saying we can excuse every criminal act and simply set the perpretator free. But fully understanding a person is a reason to help a fellow human being become better out of pity, out of compassion. Rehabilitation, not death. Perhaps this costs a huge amount of resources that, one can argue, are better spent on other endeavors; but if we truly care about the human race, I think it is the right thing to do.
In one of my previous posts, I wrote about the brain and compassion. I think I am repeating myself, but so be it. I am reminded of this topic after listening to a podcast of the Australian Broadcasting Corportion Radio National called “All in the Mind.” The topic was prosopagnosia or face blindness.
This was an eye-opener for me because I was more often than not, sensitive when it came to not being recognized by people I had a meaningful conversation with. I was almost always offended whenever someone I had a good conversation with, especially more than a couple of times, all of a sudden couldn’t recognize me when I run into them again after just a few days. I have always taken pride in being able to remember people’s faces and names, and certain things they tell me about themselves. It’s a skill I consciously studied and learned after reading about how people like it when you remember their names. So, I tended to not like those who didn’t remember me.
Learning about prosopagnosia, however, made me realize, yet again, how self-absorbed I still am even after years of trying to be otherwise. I am not saying that I now consider everyone who cannot remember me as having this condition because there may be those who are really pretending not to remember me for whatever reason. I should not react negatively if people don’t remember me because whatever reason is behind it, if I get to the bottom of it, I would most likely understand and forgive them.
This may seem easier said than done. (I’m having one of those I’m-feeling-very-kind-today days, so I’m not even annoyed when my friend didn’t show up after telling me yesterday he’d show me a funny clip of Bradley Cooper.) But it can be done. We can try to be less self-absorbed and understand why certain people in our lives are the way they are, and if we honestly believe they need to change and they are capable of changing for the better, then we should help them. Who knows they may be able to help us, too.
Have you ever prayed for a stranger? Was it easy?
Have you ever prayed (or sincerely wished) for someone you don’t like to have a peaceful/wonderful/blessed life? If yes, was it easy? If no, would you? Can you? 🙂
————————-
My weekends start on Thursday evenings, and I’ll be flying home soon! Have a lovely weekend!
T.
Weekly Photo Challenge: The Road Taken
JMU stadium
JMU stadium
I don’t know what it looks like to you, but to me it looks like the tree’s wearing a trained skirt! A tree naturally dressed in authentic leaves designed by the leaves themselves!
Perhaps it’s not good for the tree to be “dressed” as such (some ivies can choke and kill trees they say), and the workers have probably taken them off after the Chinese New Year break, but at the time I saw it, I was just struck by the image and took a photo knowing, one day, I’d be able to use the photo.
This week’s photo challenge is to post pictures on the theme “A Good Match.” As I often have to spend several minutes thinking of what skirt to wear to go to work, when I saw this tree what came to mind was, “Wow! This tall and slim tree looks nicely dressed in a green trained skirt!” Lol.
Let me know what this tree looks like to you! 🙂
Have a lovely weekend.
T.
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