12.27.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 5:00 pm by Miracle ♪♫
It is once again the occasion to wrap up another year, store it in the
recesses of my heart, and prepare ample room for the new one.
This has been one of my life’s most emotionally-racking years.
Unlike the new year’s eve of 2006 when I slipped away from
the crowd and shut myself in a room, switched the television to its maximum
volume while Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 was being aired and closed my eyes as
the symphony’s climax joined the booming fireworks, 2007 was different.
As soon as January 1, 2007 dawned, Lola’s health wavered and
a couple of weeks later, her life ended while I held her in my arms. The two abrupt throbs that I felt as she pressed
her back on my chest – the same brusque throbs that ended her life, still affects
me. I break into sobs as I write. Ironically, my presence in her life’s finale
was also my consolation. I miss her… but
92 was a ripe age, and it was her time to leave. One can only accept her departure as part of life
and God’s divine plan.
As the other months trailed along, I regained something
valuable only to lose it again, I experienced believing in the wrong people, committed
a major blunder and along with that a myriad of small ones, but I also met and
mingled with wonderful souls, learned more about music, about friendship, about
trust, about love, about life. In 2007 I
cried a considerable amount of tears, but in the end, God also allowed my heart
to laugh even more, love more, and live more…
We cause ourselves tears, but God relinquishes them with
Joy. We afflict pain upon ourselves, but
He lavishes us with His Love. We die,
and He gives us His Life.
…and there is no better way to wrap up a year than to wrap
it with Thanks, just as there is no better way to unwrap a new one than with Thanks.
Life is a gift… wrapped up… I will open it up and find a way
to give some of my own…
because life is an Extraordinary Miracle.
A Blessed New Year to
All!
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12.26.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:45 am by Miracle ♪♫
To have yourself or your photo “psychoanalyzed” with elegant meticulousness and be developed as blog-material by a musician/artist/somnambulist/polybibliogamist/ writer/philosopher (among other “er’s”) of superior caliber, is truly an honor. Though flattery was not this writer’s intent, it flatters me how another soul knows enough, cares enough, and sees enough, beneath the gathered moss and the premeditated or subliminal riddles of myself. I am deeply humbled and touched.
I thank you profoundly, Mar.
These words are not destitute that they should need a prologue. So, without further dawdling, I share you a prodigious person’s view of an insignificant Friendster photo that through consonance and adept consideration is transformed into a beautiful masterpiece.
Annotated Miracle:
A Reflection of Secrets in the Telling
(Tribute to a fellow night owl.)
Today, a few vacant hours has left me wandering into old territories (Friendster profiles) of friends, allowing me the luxury of breathlessly discovering profound truth and beauty in them that they may just be too bashful and modest to write about. Worthy or not I may be of such, still, be so kind, Reader, as to allow me the honors of writing about these, on their behalf, instead.
This one particular blog-material victim of mine happens to be - among others - a musician, a voracious “polybibliogamist” herself, and might I gratefully add, a joyful sharer of my life’s simple “absurdities”. She comes by the name of Miracle.
An Old Photo in a New Light
Wandering into Miracle’s “infinitesimal territory in cyberspace” and observing how her profile changed, I surmised it must be the new rippling effect of her old photo that captured my attention. Aside from my obvious fascination with both water and photography, this one photo – as how some people would describe the La Gioconda – has a certain enigmatic appeal that has (unfortunately for me) slipped my fancy before and as such, can also easily slip others if they be as careless and as reckless about seeing the silent, mysterious quirks behind the form, behind every quiet curve, and behind every unseen detail as I have been.
Shown in a different light of a profile background with rippling effect and held by new eyes however, it is quite a Miracle. (Pun intended.)
The Right Hand
Notice how Miracle’s right hand gently but firmly holds her instrument: as if seemingly never letting go. Anyone beholding Mira’s right hand would know that it is this same hand that paints, writes, and performs other occupations entirely detached from the violin. Yet, this same hand remains closely embracing the violin within its hollowed palm – palm emptied, this time, just
for the violin alone. Could Mira be more eloquent in subtly stating that, despite differences, the violin has her devotion? Could such intimate gesture of indubitableness not be a telling sign that even while going about the banal concerns of the day, her thoughts, unbidden, ceaselessly fly to the violin? In her most unguarded moments, is she, perhaps, haunted by the memory of its voice, or how it felt and sounded with every movement of her bow? Is she not moved by its ability to summon forth and give form to her deepest thoughts and strangest affections? And in vulnerable solitude, does she not long to be with it?
The Left Hand
Mira’s left hand strongly reveals the pianist in her. And yet, the same powerful left hand that has solicited the grandest chords from the piano now rests pliantly on the violin’s edge, on the margin and outskirts of its body. It couldn’t be more telling of a love powerful enough to silence the great. Notice how that left pianists’ hand seem to playfully tap just the edges of the violin, reminding it lightly of a heavy truth: that, despite that left hand’s dominance on any key or on any octave, this hand shall forever remain believing in the violin, enduring it, and containing it, even if it just be soundlessly from the wings.
Miracle’s Face
Even in a new light, Miracle’s face remains unseen. I would like to think that she is doing the beholder the great favor of not so much as sparing them her countenance (as she is quite a vision), than revealing to them a poignant truth: that to better appreciate unconditional possibilities, we must be denied some actualities. Until perhaps we have learned this truth, Miracle’s face shall forever remain a “riddle that no one guesses”.
The Position of the Violin
You, dear Reader, may be quite familiar with how violinists hold their instruments: with the violin’s face exposed and revealed (quite openly might I add) to the world. However, notice how Miracle holds hers: with its face to her, seemingly whispering a quiet word that was only meant for Mira and Mira to hear alone; with the entrance of its rich, sonorous and resonant sound held
tenderly against her womb and its head resting on her bosom and its ears leaning in, ever so delicately, to listen to the secrets of her heartbeat!
Could they be sharing a secret, a pact, a vow that only instrument and player
dare share? Could the violin be so docile an instrument to its player, keeping
its lips sealed until the time when Miracle calls forth its voice again to an
unknowing, heedless and ungrateful audience? Could anything be more sacred than the breath shared quietly between a woman and her music? Could music and musician be more in love and could anything be more tragic than a photo of a violin with its back turned away from its player then? I shall never look at
the same violin pose the same way again.
Like Mira’s old photo, it’s quite easy to dismiss old ideas, old loves, old
dreams if they persist on staring at you right in the face. When shown in
a different light however or when seen by new eyes, old ideas, old loves and
long-forgotten words may just hold vast reservoirs of truths that even the
strongest of hearts and the deepest of souls may find too breathtaking and
confounding to contain in one single lifetime. Its power may just be more
than enough to sustain them in two.
Permalink
12.24.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 4:44 am by Miracle ♪♫
During the Fa la la la
la season, friends and relatives who are home for the holidays whisper about
me – regarding my love life, to be more accurate.
“Single,” they say, as if it is some type of terminal illness they have to pity me for. But alas, she is “blooming,” some comment with
evident dubiosities. Tender-hearted
counterparts sympathize by suggesting, “it mustn’t be easy finding someone as
talented.” (Whoa, did I specify waiting
for someone with musical agile fingers? You folks must have heard wrong, I
meant to say agile heart and mind.) A
majority even go to the extent of asking, “What about that violin guy, Franz?”
(Yes, Franz. They’re still at it and I do not even bother to expostulate on the
matter. Can’t the best of friends say “I love you”
anymore without people becoming suspicious?!) Right, we cannot. Hahaha
While they chatter about me and cousin this, getting married
and cousin that, expecting a baby, I simply sit there amused.
I divert my eyes to the culinary festivities… the twinkling
dainty lights… and I gaze higher and witness Pyrotechnic choruses… but I look
up even higher…and behold, something brighter!
I see love. Love is there for me…
beyond mundane prattle… beyond that colossal wonderful moon… beyond those
spangling stars and luminous heavenly bodies… it is even too overwhelming to
imagine… so I close my eyes and place a hand on my chest… and Love! Right here in my heart…
Mmmm, what are you folks fussing about? =)
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12.22.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 2:16 am by Miracle ♪♫
.
I walk away
From whatever keeps you
Away from me.
.
Return to Home Page
Permalink
12.20.07
Posted in Musicalia Miscellanea at 2:53 am by Miracle ♪♫
Variation No. 9 (Nimrod) from Edward Elgar’s “Enigma” Variations is one of the most lofty melodies that never ceases to captivate me and lift me to heights. I always thought it sounded akin to the Adagio of Ludwig van Beethoven’s Pathetique… and further study affirmed that Variation No. 9 was indeed meant to portray Elgar’s best friend and a certain conversation they shared about Beethoven’s slow movements! Ahhh, at least I wasn’t merely imagining a connection this time.
The remaining 13 enigmas, or variations, are also depictions of other intimate
companions in Elgar’s life. Elgar was very fond of puzzles, cryptograms,
and ciphers, that Variation No. 10 (Dorabella) interestingly characterizes an
acquaintance who also happens to be a receiver of Elgar’s “other enigma” – the
“Dorabella Cipher,” that up to this day has not been successfully deciphered.
Edward Elgar would have been the kind of man I’d be fascinated with. He began reading Voltaire at a young age and was very much attuned to nature all throughout his life. He stated, “There is music in the air, music all around us, the world is full of it and you simply take as much as you require.” “The
trees are singing my music…Or have I sung theirs?”
But nobler than him – in my own opinion at least – was his wife; the inspiration not only for Variation No. 1 but also his life’s inspiration. Caroline Alice Roberts was unconditionally supportive to the extent of sacrificing her own social class and ambitions for his sake. Alice wrote in her diary, “The care of a genius is enough of a life work for any woman.” The famous and well-loved Salut
d’amour was Elgar’s engagement present to her. I had sweet goosebumps after
learning this. Haha
Now back to the “Enigma.” Elgar declared that the orchestration provided two
puzzles. “The enigma I will not explain… I warn you that the apparent
connection between the Variations and the Theme is often of the slightest
texture; further, through and over the whole set another and larger theme
‘goes’, but is not played…
The first puzzle is supposed to ascertain which of Elgar’s friends was expressed in which variation. Researchers have expertly solved this first mystery, yet the
second puzzle keeps people guessing… but the beautiful theory of Professor Ian Parrott is one of the reasons why I was eager to write about this. Prof. Parrott believes that the Enigma corresponds to the Vulgate version of 1 Corinthians 13:12 which states: “videmus nunc per speculum in enigmate tunc autem facie ad faciem nunc cognosco ex parte tunc autem cognoscam sicut et cognitus sum” translated as “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” The Enigmatic theme that “’goes,’ but is not played” “through and over the whole set” is the great and central theme of Christian scripture - Love.
No wonder it’s exquisite.
This provides me motivation to write my own Enigma Variations on paper. Perhaps by then you shall be able to guess the riddle that I am?
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Permalink
12.19.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 7:18 am by Miracle ♪♫
I haven’t written anything lately… but I am not about
to begin apologizing for that as if to flatter myself that my blog entries are
necessities in anyone’s life. That would be very foolish. =P
Practicing and deciding on what to play for January’s master
class, general house cleaning, daily “customers” of Café Romano, preparing for
the arrival of home-for-the-holidays relatives, and eight dense recipes of Black
Forest chocolate cake was enough to keep my hands engaged during the past few
days. Oh yes, I was also able to improve
the physiognomy of my Friendster profile – something that did not require much
mental or physical work – betwixt spinsterish activities. It’s refreshing to see white this time
instead of black, and I’m fortunate enough to have been able to stumble across
the ripple-technique that contributes a light and reflective effect that
manifests my attitude lately. Enough
melancholia for me, I’m trading it for Joy… and no, not just because ‘tis “the
season to be jolly.” This is something
enduring.
Here’s a charming little piece that I wish to share with all of you. A song
from Kid’s Praise days with Psalty the Singing Songbook. While I
was baking and began feeling pressed for time (I even joked about being a “pressured cook” Haha), this song suitably streamed through my mind.
I’m no longer sure if these are the exact lyrics,
but this is the way I remember singing it more than fifteen years ago:
Gonna make a recipe, I
just can’t wait to start
It’s not the kind you
serve at meals,
You make it in your
heart
If you’ve never tried
it,
you’ve got to have a taste
So come into the
kitchen
and we’ll make a batch of praise
First you take a cup
of faith
and stir it all around
Add some joy and
laughter,
‘til it makes a bubbly sound
Mix in some Agape
love, ‘til it begins to ring
Pour into a willing heart,
and serve it to the King!
A willing heart, a most needful vessel. A willing heart, not just in the kitchen, but beyond the
kitchen, too! What a goal that would be! If you don’t have a “resolution” at hand, to have a
willing heart would make an excellent aim.
Don’t you think so?
—————-=======================—————-
The baby on the photo is adorable Dmitri. The first boy who kissed me on the lips - and infront of both our moms. ;-)
Permalink
12.15.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 7:45 pm by Miracle ♪♫
A rather good electronic imitation of chimes rang from my
phone, persuading me to get up from the tender unconsciousness of sleep. “Something *stretch* seems *stretch* to be
special *stretch* about today,” I said to myself. Hmmm…
I silenced the chimes and viewed my reminders. December 16, birth date of Ludwig van Beethoven,
Jane Austen, and George Santayana, it read. Haha I know, I should begin storing birthdates of living people, but I don’t
do this for nothing. I make it a point
to do or read something about these past figures on their birthdays for knowledge or
amusement, and to commemorate their lives in my own little way. It’s not such an absurd idea… if people
can observe Christ’s fake birthday, why not these real birthdays?
Thinking out loud and branching to another limb of thought…
of course, I am not comparing Christ with mere men, nor am I trying to be some
grinch… uh, where was I?
Now I recall a line that the “Gentleman of Varona” scrawled
in manly messy penmanship on the cover of a CD. It went something like
“May you
have Christmas in your heart everyday.” I still deem it to be one of the most proper Christmas wishes since it
does not necessarily conspire with the December 25 fabrication. What I failed to add was, “may you also have
His death in your heart everyday,” since it is after all what He requires us to
celebrate and remember.
Another limb… Santayana… an atheist.
I’m wondering… why is it that most of us have
an instant detestation towards anti-Semitic public or historical personalities, and yet
if we are told one is an atheist, we are not at all bothered with that fact?
Now this bothers me…
Okay, back to my day… Carrying the
something-seems-to-be-special-about-today feeling with me to the boulevard, I
walked steadily in meditation. The sun
was just peeking out from the distant hills when it began drizzling… it
reminded me of my friend Jeremiah’s “sparkling shimmering golden rain”
as the
sunlight burst through the clouds like nature’s Symphony No. 9.
Ode to Joy, ode to joy!
I closed my eyes and lifted my face to the sky. In that moment, I
realized what today’s significance is… it’s just another ordinary miracle to
celebrate… just like any other day!
Permalink
12.12.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 7:35 pm by Miracle ♪♫
Misha and I were requested to perform yesterday morning at
the Mindanao convention of Water District
officials. The event itself was
interesting since their theme concerned the environment but I have to confess
yawning during some of the speeches. They ought to forgive me, I woke up very early. Some
of them must have been up early also since I spotted several participants who were
drowsing off as well. *grins* When we went up the stage, we probably looked
like smiling alarm clocks to some… and our names might have had a sing-song
quality like that of a mother’s calling out, “breakfast is ready, good morning,
time to wake up!” So they did, and they turned out to be a very warm and
welcoming audience.
“All the world’s a
stage,” Shakespeare suggested out of nowhere… and at that moment I was only
playing one of my parts.
What they didn’t know was that the seemingly feminine figure
in the semi-stilettos and embroidered attire was going to scrub floors when she
returned home.
What they didn’t know was that I wasn’t wearing blush-on. I
was simply embarrassed when the officials shook my hand and it was damp
and sweaty as usual.
What they didn’t know was that behind the reserved smile
was an exceedingly joyful person who wanted to shriek with glee as she runs
barefoot to the sun… despite her monthly period.
What they didn’t know was that I occasionally write whenever music on
its cycle chances on touching the tip of my pen… and somehow I’d blog
about them.
What they didn’t know was that when I checked my Multiply
account that afternoon, I discovered yet another speciously provoking sight, yet
I just smiled and laughed about it and chanted a rhyme to console and humor myself,
“at
least ‘di ako, ang nagpaka-psycho.”
What they didn’t know was that in the evening I had crabs
with extra cocomilk sauce (weeeee!!!) with the family including Lester and
Haidee in Dapitan, and that was a wonderful way to end the day… regardless of the
expected aftermath of red skin blotches.
That ends this little quasi-eventful history of my day, sans trouble, sans hate, sans sorrow, sans worry. =)
Permalink
12.11.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 12:18 am by Miracle ♪♫
Tonight I do not write the saddest lines, as Neruda would have done. I write because I have ceased dreaming and sense a certain freedom, yet the stars shimmer in the distance and my universe continues to brim with life. Howbeit I feel the need to be courageous enough to scrawl the last words that I’ll write for you.
I credit you no pain. You have caused me none. I afflicted the pains upon myself for the reason that I had to accept two realities, and these coupled maxims are the exact reasons why I never sought after you – being fully aware that I could have; 1. We had differing beliefs, 2. I respected your choice… but truth be told, your choice perturbed me. Not owing to who your choice is per se – or for
the fact that she hates me and my frankness, but because I can clearly observe that
you do not have the same beautiful impact or influence on her that you had on
me. God knows I do not hate her although human as I am; it came to a point where I felt I have had enough, and I’m not even proud of that. Then again, I
respect you and the friendship that we once had – the friendship that I believed
in so much, and the same friendship that until now, encourages me to strive and improve as a person.
Tonight, I do not write the saddest lines, because I do not have to forget and shun thoughts of you, confident of how pure they are. My soul is not pleased that it might have lost you, but my soul is happy because it once knew you… and tonight and for the other nights to come, I do not have to be pained recognizing that the simple act of knowing you is enough.
I have learned that with or without you, I am loved,
and I should behave loved (and not as if I’m not), therefore I’m happy… and as my prayer is for every friend, I wish you the best of Love, Life, and Music.
Happy Holidays! =)
Permalink
12.09.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 9:15 pm by Miracle ♪♫
Remember those darling illustrations and figurines with tear-shaped
eyes that are usually accompanied by sweet little phrases? Uh huh,
Precious Moments! They always transport me back to an innocent and
unsophisticated pastel-colored world full of love where all eyes are still wide with
wonder of small miracles. I scanned the gallery of my mobile phone of
yore – the oldfangled Nokia 6100, and discovered a whole album of
Precious Moments pictures that I had saved several years ago.
If only I could also make soft-hued eternities out of the precious moments of my life…
On the other hand, I suppose that’s what words are for sometimes? =)
More of these at: http://meewa.multiply.com/photos/album/53
Permalink
12.07.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 2:44 pm by Miracle ♪♫
Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? let him shew out a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom.
But if you have bitter envying and strife in your hearts, glory not, and lie not against the truth.
This wisdom decendeth not from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish.
For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work.
But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy.
And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.
Bull’s-eye.
So help us God.
wahhh… hehe…
Permalink
12.05.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 11:00 pm by Miracle ♪♫
“Wherever you put her, she’d manage to make any little corner
beautiful… you would know she had been there… she always left flowers
behind.”
Who would have known that Mama’s old friend (and my
childhood witness), was talking about me? What happened? Why do I now leave withered briars instead? When did I
dispossess that touch? I feel the need to obtain it once again…
In the end, I really don’t wish to be identified as someone well-known or prodigious… I have no yearnings of worldly conquests and victories.
I simply
desire to be remembered once again as
she
who always left flowers behind…
Permalink
12.04.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 7:53 pm by Miracle ♪♫
Yesterday morning, my parents and I went to the boulevard
very early. It was slightly drizzling so
we just sat inside our “mini-pooper” (haha), Papa and Mama at the front
seats laughing lightly and gazing at each other as if the backseat and I didn’t exist. (Another haha =P)
They had a drizzle-specked tinted glass for a backdrop and
beyond that a rainbow hung in the periwinkle sky as the sun in the opposite
direction was just getting out of bed and stretching its majestic arms
grandiosely.
I just behaved quietly
and contentedly.
When we came home, my cousin was there with his son,
two-month-young handsome Paulo. I
carried Paulo and felt his tiny life move near my heart… and exhilarated, I
said to myself…
“Life is beautiful…”
Permalink
12.03.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 4:24 am by Miracle ♪♫
Ohna’s Message:
I’ve read from an Enneagram book that psychological
maturity and intelligence are not the forms which make up the real nature of
the “spirit.” In other words, the book proposes that the mind is not
the spirit… if this is true… I’m curious to know if it’s possible for soulmates
to be spiritually converged and yet be intellectually and psychologically
divorced at the same time? hehehe I don’t know…what do you think? Thank you
for the video…=) It lightened up my day…have a blessed week…Meewa…=)
Dear Ohna, I’m glad you liked the video!
It’s the first time I’ve been asked this question… and
although I stutter, I can at least try to say something. Haha =)
First of all, we have to review the different kinds of “soulmates” - as the
world defines them.
- There’s the “Mystical/Religious Soulmate” with the
idea of souls having been intertwined in prior lifetimes through
reincarnation. This is a concept that
I’m ruling out. (Kenth, I still respect
your beliefs. Feel free to react. ^_^)
- “Twin Soulmates” where two friends share a
special union.
- A “Twin Flame Soulmate” that holds the ardent theory
that there is exclusively a sole soulmate.
- There’s also the “Karmic Soulmate” where one has
a certain purpose or effect on another’s life.
- The “Companion Soulmate” is someone with whom a
person has experienced a significant connection.
…and there are more types of soulmates that religion and philosophy have
conjured up through the ages, and I no longer have knowledge about the
others. There’s even reckoned to be a
“Scientific Soulmate” which I haven’t had sufficient intellect or interest to
tackle.
However, there is said to be a “Divine Complement,” on which two people’s
spiritual, psychological, intellectual, and all things “al” (to sum it up haha),
complement each other and is perpetually sealed in a spiritual bond. This is perhaps the most wonderful
interpretation of a soulmate.
So, the answer you’re looking for might depend on what type of soulmate you’re referring to.
As for what I think, I would very much like to believe in the idea of a
“spiritmate” rather than a soulmate, since I believe the spiritual aspect is
the most important factor of a bond. Once
two people share a spiritual union, the rest follows – or ceases to
matter.
Permalink
12.02.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 9:11 pm by Miracle ♪♫
The daughters, the daughters! A
matchmaker was fundamental for them so they could “settle down” and escape the
fate of being branded a worthless woman… and how accomplished a young
woman would be if her match were a wealthy man! Love was not an issue in their marriages, social and material comfort was.
Jewish tradition? No. There are subtle traces of that mentality even in our culture… even in well-meaning friends. Truth be told, the Jews were meritable for not concealing such intentions.
Darling
matchmakers in my life, I have enough comfort right here at home with
my family, and if love (or a perfect match to be more precise) were to
find me, do you think love would need a matchmaker? One of you might be an instrument though… but come to think of it… love… this is the most powerful force we are talking about. We need not worry about finding “him” too late lest I become “worthless,” and some of us need not be so picky when it comes to what a man has to offer… after all, it’s not for us to pick, but for love to pick me.
(yeah, yeah… I know… that’s only what spinsters say. =P)
…the line immediately reminds us of a man complaining about his pennilessness, but let us take a deeper look.
“I see my wife, my Golde,
looking like a rich man’s wife
With a proper double-chin.
Supervising meals to her heart’s delight.
I see her putting on airs
and strutting like a peacock.
Oy, what a happy mood she’s in.
Screaming at the servants, day and night…
The most important men in town
would come to fawn on me!
They would ask me to advise them…
And it won’t make one bit of difference
if I answer right or wrong.
When you’re rich, they think you really know!”
Yes, yes, that’s right. We failed to notice the satire there before. Rest assured I have nothing against the rich. In fact, I have good-hearted and generous wealthy friends… but you see… Daidle, deedle, daidle, digguh, digguh, deedle, daidle dum…
Divine victory of love against tradition and convention!
“When David slew Goliath, that was a miracle.
When God gave us manna in the wilderness, that was a miracle too.
But of all God’s miracles large and small,
The most miraculous one of all
Is the one I thought could never be:
God has given you to me.”
Hmmm… I wouldn’t also mind being someone’s miracle, especially when it is in accordance to a divine plan. Rich or poor, we are all entitled to some happiness.
Swiftly, fly the years… but I know there’s a canopy in store for me.
After 25 years of being married, Tevye and Golde awkwardly confess their love for each other… I “suppose” they did. Hehehe
Having
parents who are terribly sweet as a couple, this certain song strikes
me uneasily, realizing that there are really people who spend their
whole lives in relationships without even considering love as a
priority.
Ahh… my favorite Fiddler song. Despite
my incomparable relationship with Mama, I must admit that I’m a daddy’s
girl. (Well, I should be. I’m his only daughter. =P) That’s why this
song touches me as the lyrics says it all for a daughter when the time
comes that she should tell her father she has to leave as she chooses
to be with the man she loves despite sacrificing the comforts of home.
How can I hope to make you understand
Why I do what I do,
Why I must travel to a distant land,
Far from the home I love.
Once I was happily content to be
As I was, where I was,
Close to the people who are close to me,
Here in the home I love.
Who could see that a man could come
Who would change the shape of my dreams.
Helpless now I stand with him,
Watching older dreams grow dim.
Oh, what a melancholy choice this is,
Wanting home, wanting him,
Closing my heart to ev’ry hope but his,
Leaving the home I love,
There where my heart has settled long ago
I must go, I must go, I must go,
Who could imagine I’d be wand’ring so
Far from the home I love
Yet there with my love, I’m home.
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Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 6:37 am by Miracle ♪♫
(for lack of a better title. haha
but it’s a rational formula, isn’t it?)
“All emotional pain lasts for 12 minutes. Anything longer than that is self-inflicted,”
the forwarded text message went. It goes
on to say that everything after twelve minutes is over-reaction. Although I still haven’t verified whether
this is a psychological fact or not, I’m beginning to believe it. I then wondered… what of happiness? How long
does emotional bliss last?
For the past few days, my mood has been a kaleidoscope of
feelings (possibly with twelve-minute intervals… I failed to keep record), and yet there remains an anchor of joy that contributes peace even in
my most melancholy state… and this sort of circumstance demonstrates an
answer to a question that I’m often asked – the difference between happiness
and joy.
Happiness and sadness are emotions and I suppose one and the
other endures the same rumored twelve-minute duration. After all, emotions are merely soul-ish… but
Joy! Joy is spiritual. It’s a profound substance in Love’s dominion
and it has no termination… and while matters of the soul are carnal,
spirituality carries one to a higher yet unfathomable condition.
So if you ask me now whether I am happy or not, I must say
that I have Joy in my heart. That’s why
I fly, I run, I rejoice and am free!
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