Gouache on paper, 2003

What does it mean to fall in love?

We see it in movies all the time–non-stop smiling, giggling and wiggling in one’s panties–and it’s tempting to dismiss the whole set up as a cliche, as overrated, if only it weren’t so fascinating!  Anyone who’s ever fallen in love would agree–masarap umibig–and just like our obsession with photos to capture and store our  kodak moments, wouldn’t it be nice to also have the sensation of falling in love available at our beck and call?  Think instant pocket of sunshine, microwavable or downloadable just when we need a happy pill.

If only happiness could come in instant packs.   The motions of being in love come and go, it’s just how things are, but maybe where we do have a hand is in keeping them coming.

Love is serious and demanding–it’s the older brother that needs to be responsible, that needs to make the difficult choices.   Falling in love is the bunso, the cheeky one who gets away with being naughty and creating a mess.  Just because.

Let’s remember how wonderful it is to fall–into the unknown, unfamiliar, unmanageable–and to do it front-faced, with courage and trust that what’s waiting for us at the bottom is, more than anything else, a possibility, an opening that could make for a great adventure.

Let us remember that to fall in love is to encounter and to surrender, not always to someone but maybe to something–an idea, a place, a job, a memory…and what joy in that surrender!  In a strange way, it asks us to be humble, to accept willingly and excitedly that we are not alone, that we connect to something or someone outside of ourselves, and it’s okay. We’ll play and be merry and it’s okay. 

And to fall in love AGAIN, wow, this assumes we have braved the journey before, including the part where it had to end, and still we stand unfazed, ready for the peaks and troughs of yet another journey, or maybe a collection of mini-journeys.

Wow.  What a way to welcome the new year.

To falling in love again and again and again, friends! To 2010!

Let go, Gouache on paper, 2005

Time is a created thing. To say ‘I don’t have time’ is to say ‘I don’t want to.’ –Lao Tzu

What do you usually say you’re too busy for?

Let’s not be too busy to pray. To cook. To read! To exercise! To meet up and have face-to-face qt (quality time ) with friends and family.  Let’s make time.  Especially this season of LOVE.

Merry Christmas, friends!

Soulmates, Gouache on paper, 2002

Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. –Elie Wiesel

First time I read this, I agreed to it in my gut. Why? Friendship has no expectations. Really.

It’s not fleeting; there’s no celebrated effort to make it work once the “honeymoon phase” is over, because there is no honeymoon phase. There’s no expectation of progress, of a journey, because although there is a journey, and it’s one that is shared between those in the friendship, this journey doesn’t exist outside– there’s no space or separation to point it out from a distance. The whole relationship of friendship is just there–not static, but not rushed to the “next stage” either. There is movement, to nowhere specific really, and so the main concern is not to achieve goals together, but just to be there, together.

A friend accepts and stays. Such a simple agreement, giving it so much room to move in, potential, potency.

Friends are the most simple relations we can have, and yet they offer the greatest pleasure possible.

Best part is that friendship is not exclusive–we’re not meant to have just one!

* * *
Emailed to friends on August 1, 2006.

Gouache on paper, unfinished

The heart has the ability to experience so much—and we don’t have much time. — Jack Gilbert

My friend Jason shared this powerful chant with me–it’s something that his spiritual community in Iloilo uses when praying over each other.

Two concepts you wouldn’t normally clump together: violent fire and purity. A great upsurge of energy, a disturbance, a violence that is heated, burning, passionate, but also pure, sincere, precise, like a laserbeam. This violent fire is dedicated, committed, and will not falter. And it comes from a tough, loving place–a place of truth.

What a great source of strength, to be able to tap into Truth. Fierce and potent. Unforgiving truth, that makes brave men and women out of all of us. You know you’re dealing with Truth when you’re disturbed, rocked out of your boat. It’s that surgical incision that hurts, but brings healing and resolve (and often, duty) all at once.

Try saying it out loud: “I am a violent fire. I am the purity that God desires.”

What happens?