Gentle Souls

I find it uncommon these days to find someone that strikes you as gentle, kind, and pleasant in the first few minutes of your encounter. One who listens well with a smile before responding. And when she responds, she does so gently but firmly. She speaks with her eyes making up for her brevity of words but concise enough to be understood.

My friend Victoria is one such person. I worked with this gentlest of a person in our community newsletter when I was still single. Given specific tasks, she worked without complaints, even when at times she had to do so outside her comfort zone.

Another gentle soul was Cristy. She loved helping people through our counseling ministry, where we both trained in and served. She ministered to hurting souls with joy, even taking graveyard shifts.

Saints probably inhabit their bodies. The words that come out of their mouths are words that comfort, tunes that soothe the minds, voices that refresh weary minds and souls.

The little things they do cannot be belittled. It’s been ages since I’ve seen Victoria and Cristy has passed on from this life. But the “little” things I’ve seen them do, still inspire me today. And probably, too, those that they have silently touched.

To them and others like them, I raise this cup.

Cheers!

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Guardian Angels

Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commits me here, ever this day, be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide.

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We were travelling to Bataan, our home province of about 100kms away from home. The old sedan was full of all essentials for an annual 5-day holy week vacation -clothes, food, gadgets, and Doritos. Before a long haul such as this, I usually send the car to an auto workshop for a tuneup, oil check, etc. It did not prepare me for a major trouble.

We took a less traffic route knowing the expressway will be heavy as it had always been every year. With just about 20kms away from our destination, we all heard a loud thud in the hood area. The car went dead -everything but the horn. I couldn’t even pull over to the side of the road.

I understand very little about car mechanics, but by the sound of it, it wasn’t the battery or the windshield wiper. Silly me, I didn’t check if it was the blinkers, but I knew it was serious. And we were right in the middle of nowhere during a time when the entire country was on a yearly hiatus. 

There was no need to look around anymore because even before I got out to lift the hood or kick the wheels to pretend I knew what I was doing, I lifted my gaze to a big sign that says Korean Car Motor Shop painted in font size 5000. We were so close that if I veered towards the left, I would have hit it. The car conked out in front of a motor shop that was open with the mechanic having coffee as if waiting for a scheduled appointment! 𝘈𝘩𝘩, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

A phone call to my brother and within minutes, a vehicle from home rescued us. The mechanic agreed to do the repair, which took a few days to finish.

This story is just one of many where God manifested His guidance and protection: a sudden inspiration; the right word to say; the perfect approach; the best decision -it’s allowing myself to be led. As a family, we offered a rosary for protection and guidance that day. We claimed God’s promise:

“𝘉𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘐𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘰𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘺…” (Ex23:20)

We prayed. The angels came. 

Cheers!

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Learning from the Past

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results –Einstein

I agree with Albert Einstein. But I confess I don’t consistently practice what it promotes.

Like two days ago. After nearly a year, I’ve finally made good use of my health card membership for a blood chem. Clinics and hospitals were last in the list of places I would ever want to go to due to the pandemic. Also, tied in last place were funeral chapels.

And here’s my confession. I was actually hoping -praying that results of my lab tests are ok, esp my uric acid level. For the last few months, my diet consisted of high purine foods I should have avoided. And prayers may just be what I needed for a different result.

In the afternoon, the verdict came. Although my cholesterol and sugar counts were all ok, my uric was off the chart. So silly of me to expect a normal count even if my diet hasn’t changed since the last blood test.

I can’t expect a different result if I did the same thing over and over again:

I can’t expect that my muscle mass to increase if I only did the same weights, the same reps, the same sets every workout;

I can’t expect my resistance to get better if I ran the same frequency, the same route, the same length, the same time, every run;

I can’t expect to have a better bottom line in my business if I employed the same services, the same marketing, the same efforts;

I can’t expect a better country if I elected the same criminals, cheaters, liars and thieves into power. It’s like finding a hammer to hit your stubborn head hard with. It can’t be any clearer than that!

I must do better, think better, choose better. Unless I am a bigger fool myself.

I must learn from the past. I must never forget. 

Cheers!

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My Bucket List

Isn’t it about time I do this? The list has only been written at the back of my mind since Stone Age. Writing it here will surely pressure me. Some are still doable. I have chucked many out due to health, age and money.

The health benefits of having one far outweighs the unnecessary pressure. For one, they keep me going. At this age, if you have nothing to look forward to, you deteriorate faster. And for another, updating the list keeps track of my achievements and unachievements. Shall we?

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. Big word, I know. For brevity, I’ll let Google do its thing for you. But watch a video of this on YouTube and you’ll know why. This merits buying a new camera!

𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬. Who doesn’t want to, right? Blame it on movies and TV shows I’ve seen, including Flash Gordon. Another point towards the camera.

𝐑𝐮𝐧/𝐣𝐨𝐠 ’𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐈’𝐦 𝟕𝟓. I’ve been running on/off since my Saudi days when I was in my 20s. Running gives me a different high that I can’t get just by walking. Currently, I run 5k twice a week. I wouldn’t mind if by my bingo age, 2 or 3k is all I can muster.

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬. This item used to be learn how to play golf. I’ve upgraded. My best round so far is 126 with a couple of second chances.

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞. Thanks to my daughter and to K-dramas, Hangeul it is. When I was younger, I found learning French and spoken Arabic easy. I could get by as a tourist in France and other French-speaking countries, to the amazement of my travel buddies. But at this age, it takes more effort. I’m not giving up yet.

𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤. I am blogging and writing for several online platforms. Taking it slow. We’ll see. I remember many years ago; I tried with Time magazine. I was rejected. I was just applying for a subscription.

I stop here. Better safe with only a few, but let me also list those that I have crossed out:

Bungee jump. Can’t do for health reasons.

Learn to swim. Done. I was almost 30 years old when I enrolled in a Milo swimming class for adults.

Retire at 50. Duh. I started my design company after turning 50.

Design a website. Done 4x.

I’ll probably update this next year or when this pandemic ends. Until then, let’s live life.

Cheers!

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And Archie was His Name

I didn’t consider us friends as we only knew each other casually because he was friends with and 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑎𝑑𝑎 of my brother and my cousin. But Archie knew me and I likewise knew him. We came from the same town -Dinalupihan, Bataan.

When I entered as a freshman at #Mapúa, he was already in his 3rd year as a Civil Engineering (CE) student. The only decent conversation I can recall with him was the time I saw him with my brother and cousin in the campus. Knowing that I was new, he asked the standard question:

“How’s college life?” 

“Who is your professor in Math 113?” 

Many students then were avoiding a family of “terror” professors named Magtira. Only a lucky bunch of few made it out alive.

“Ok 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔,” I answered, “Mrs. Magtira-Paulino.”

He laughed hard and wished me luck. His wish may have helped because I got through that class and two more from the same house of terror unscathed.

I didn’t get to see much of him because our school building (EE) is a bit distant from theirs (CE). And, of course, I’ve made my own circle of friends and study groups later on.

The last time I saw him was during a forum in the gym where the daughter of then president Marcos was a guest speaker -Imee Marcos. He was last of those given the chance to ask the speaker a question. His question drew laughter from the audience that somehow didn’t sit well with Ms. Marcos. After the forum, he was whisked away by the bodyguards in broad daylight, and three days later, was found dead -tortured.

Our young minds were terror-struck.

We didn’t know if more students were taken, as the entire media was controlled by Marcos.

We tiptoed our way to school and back every day.

Will they go after his casual friends, too? His 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑎𝑑𝑎?  

News about him in school was transmitted only through whispers. No text messages. No social media.

That was one hellish nightmare we all had to go through as students. None of us deserved it.

Archie, you are remembered. I know how much your family has suffered, especially in chasing that elusive justice for many decades after your brutal death. 

This cup I raise to our casual friendship -albeit shortened.

Cheers!

#ArchimedesTrajano

I am feeling very hopeful!

God bless our country.

𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐤-𝐚-𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞-𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧

After four-and-a-half years of being a vegetarian, I am back to eating chicken. I am revising my CV to officially and effectively effect the changes and also for the benefit of those who are taking me out for lunch or dinner. No more, “𝘈𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯!” (So hard to feed you!) Ya besh, I hear you.

Last Sunday, I had #ChickenJoy -oh, whatta… 

I took on vegetarianism solely for health reasons and not for any militant advocacy or espousal. After my angioplasty in 2017, my readings about cardio health issues drew me to understand -and embrace, it was best for me y mi corazon. And I still believe it so. 

But the same readings led me back to this cocky resolution because of another health issue -uric acid and purine. I have gout issues. Some veggies and soy products like tofu, depending on how they are processed, and fish (Oh life, really! ) contain substantial level of these unwanted whatsits leaving me with nothing more than grass, oxygen and organic carton boxes for lunch and dinner.

Still no pork or beef. For the chicken, I take dibs on the parts with the least amount of purine, breast and buttocks. No skin. Limited amount still. Maybe twice a week. My wife and kids are delighted. More cooking and ordering options now.

When life takes a turn, celebrate, eat chicken and drink coffee. Oh whatta…

Cheers!

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One Year Lateur…

A year ago today, Andre pulled his very first edible cup of coffee with his brand-new espresso machine. That same morning, I wrote my very first coffee cup reflections. I wasn’t posting on FB or IG then yet but only to a small Viber group, mainly relatives who I knew no matter how crudely the written words were, they will read. Just because.

That cup is shown here. So amateurish, right? Yep, that’s coffee alright! And it tasted good, too. He’s come a long way in doing coffee art. Without my barista, there will be no #mycoffeecupreflections. I am a proud customer.

This was what I wrote:

𝙰 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚞𝚜. 

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙’𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢.

For the first few months, I created every day. I told myself there must be something worthwhile to write about every single day. Inspirations came and went. I bored people to death.

A few days ago, I have also started writing for several online publications like Medium, Quora and LinkedIn. I am developing my blog website which should be up in a few. If I can bore a few, I can bore the whole world. These were the rah-rah words I used to pump myself up.

To my eleven readers (recently up from seven), thank you for putting up with me and the words I write. I admire your tolerance and patience. You are always in my prayers.

To infinity and beyond!

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes #OneYearAnniversary

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I was a Saint Many Times Over

During college days, between the end of each semester and the time they released the grades, a halo hovered over my head which was then still immaculately full.

Electrical engineering (BSEE) was a tough course and our school, #MapuaInstituteOfTechnology (now #MapuaUniversity), was unforgiving of students with a low weighted average. It gave those that fall below the standard set by the school twice in a row the boot. The EE school boasted of producing the most number of board topnotchers during our time and keeping the status quo was a serious deal. The grading system used was numerical, 1.0-5.0 with 0.25 increments: 1.0 excellent, 3.0 pass, and 5.0 fail.

Each interim took two weeks, and while waiting, we normally go home to Bataan for a brief vacation. It was during these fortnights that I called on all the saints to intercede for me that God will not allow a failing grade. I was so obedient to my parents that I carried out every command before they gave them. The house was always dust-free, the dishes squeaky clean, and the chickens, pigs and carabaos well fed. Any temptation attempting to poison my pristine heart and mind stood no chance. I prayed like hell -I mean, you know what I mean.   

Failing a subject would mean repeating it, re-studying it and, worse, paying for it again. I regarded every centavo spent for our education as a product of mixing blood with sweat and multiplied with hardships. Without a regular family income, second chances were scarce.

When each D-day came, the first thing I’d focus my eyes on was the last line that showed the weighted average. I always know that if it went >3.0, it would mean a 5.0 in at least one subject. In all those times, God heard my prayers.

That was how I survived college -my gateway to becoming a prayerful person.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes #CollegeLife #PrayerWorks

Start here.

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