Energy.Light.Love.Truth

There is no "I" in .....


I was watching the USA 2004 Debate on TV last night between Senator Kerry and President George Bush.
It was fairly civilized.

They stated their stances on the issues that were brought up.
They announced their plans for keeping and maintaining a safer America, blah blah blah.

Then I got to thinking .....

... and as usual, I had to take a step back and just listen with my heart. You must know that I am slightly deaf in my right ear .. long story .. so I guess my heart has adapted to take on much of the listening that goes on around me.

So this is what got into my head.

There is no "I" in T E A M.

There is no "I" in W O R L D or G L O B A L.

There is no "I" in P E A C E or F R E E D O M.

.. .....

and off in a tangent I go .....

Man really cannot afford to think that whatever his nation does will not have an impact on the rest of the world.

The issues and concerns of one country is also being dealt with in other countries.
The issues and concerns of one family is also being dealt with in other families.
The issues and concerns of an individual is also being dealt with by other individuals.

The only thing that separates a nation is the thinking of "I" as in "I AM. I CAN . I WILL."

There is no "I" in W E and U S as well.

Perhaps, leaders of nations need to start seeing the world as part of their own responsibility (not just their own nations ), and thus empowering and encouraging their people to feel the same.

Hmmm, there is an "I" in nation.

WE need to start feeling that we are part of the same TEAM called WORLD.

Who wants to join?

YAY !!!!

GO TEAM "WORLD " GO!

1.10.04 16:12


The Best Thing About Having History ....




We are four in my family. My Dad, my Mom, my younger sister and I.


I left home when I was 23 years old.


When I look back at my family life I realize that we were as close as a family of four CAN be, given that my parents were new immigrants in a totally different country and culture .. and who had to work hard to sacrifice for the best for their girls.


My sister Belle, is 4 years younger than me.


She was the cutest thing in the whole world. As she grew a little older .. she became a little tag-a-long-pest. I can only remember the few years when we actually played with common themes and common toys. Then the years and the mild generation difference took its toll on our sister relationship.


Of course my puberty years were spent on me thinking of only me .. and how I fit into the world as I came to experience it. Then in High School, there were boys and girlfriends, and track and field .. and dances .. and more boys ..


Belle entered the same High School the Year that I graduated.


Soon after that, we pretty much had our own group of friends, own activities .. and developed our own personalities, devoid of the other.


The years passed even more and as I entered one of the most ambiguous stages of my life .. (I was not a very good person, nor was I a good daughter, or a sister) the distance grew. As I perceived. And I became comfortable with the distance from both my parents, sister and relatives, as this was how life was .. and this was how it was going to be.


Belle married. She met a wonderful guy, planned a simple yet beautiful wedding, bought a moderately sized home in a very good neighbourhood and after 2 years gave birth to the best little kid you could ever meet!


This did not bring us closer.. it just made me think of her as being older .. and more mature .. and well .. having a life of her own. And I had my own life.


Just last year we had encountered one of the most crucial stages in our relationship of being sisters. She needed me and I was not there for her. Granted, all those years when she did need me, I was really never there for her anyway (too into my own life to even really think that she might need me), and the one time that she really needed me, her only sister .. I was not there for her. I only found out, like a year later after we had both gotten on MSN and started chatting. She told me in her matter-of-fact way. She was honest and tactful in saying that she had already gotten over the toughest thing she had to go thru . .. alone, and that she did not want to discuss it with me further, but that she wanted me to know how much I had hurt her and let her down.


Wow!


I had no idea.


I was not aware.


I felt ashamed. I felt awful.


What could I say .. but "I'm so sorry." And all Belle replied on MSN was, "..it doesn't matter now."


"It doesn't matter now."


Those words kept repeating itself in my head that night .. like a never ending text line on MSN.


If it didn't matter now .. then when would it matter?


What really was the matter?


What mattered?


What mattered to me?


How did it matter to me?


How did she matter to me?


She does matter to me.


Oh My God, of course she matters to me.


Of course it still matters to her.


Not what she needed to tell me back then. That was back then and that moment had passed long ago .. but this is now .. and no matter what she still needed me as much as I needed her.


And that was the day I woke up from my dream-state life.


It is now a year later. We had re-unioned with one another and our parents in their new home in the Cebu, Philippines this past March. It was the four of us again. Only different. This time each one of us knows the true value of time and moments. The special sweetness of hearty laughter and of hugs and kisses.


I am 40 and Belle is 36.


We chat when we can, we call eachother on the phone and talk till our ears turn red and our phone bills rise. She lives in Toronto, Canada and I am here in Houston, Texas.


I love my sister Belle. I will never "NOT be there" for her when she needs me. I appreciate her more now than ever. I see her as her own wonderful, caring, responsible woman and I cannot get over myself at how LIFE has been too kind to me.


This could've been an entry about my estranged sister. But it is not. And I am glad.


And I think of what the best thing is that my sister and I have, that no one else has ... and that is - HISTORY! We had the same father and the same mother. We shared the same meals of corned beef with eggs and sardines with rice and on a good day, we got take home Chinese Food or Kentucky Fried Chicken when are parents had to work overtime and were too tired too cook. We both got the belt from my Dad and the slipper whipping from my Mom when we were naughty ) ... and to actually talk about all the things we shared from different perspectives .. only to find that we thought of them in the same way .. well, most anyway is truly a gift!


I am so happy that I allowed myself to stop being the estranged one. I would've missed out on so, so much laughing!


I hope to be with Belle in the next lifetime. I don't care how .. as long as I can laugh with her again!





Sometimes we forget not how to love .. but why we love.





I am just here to remind you of that.


3.10.04 05:26


..... the strangest dream ......


I always have dreams and I can always remember my dreams at great detail. The one I had this afternoon was just a little way off the wall.

I went to visit my best friend Dina, who happened to live in Paris ( in the dream ). I got to the floor where her flat was and just as I was passing her neighbours opened door, Albiero came out and said, "Won't you come inside for just awhile?" I hesistated at the doorway, knowing that my friend was expecting me ... but remembering Albiero, I decided to walk in.

His apartment flat was beautiful. I mean, clean and so modern and so full wonderful things to just look at. His friend was also there ( I did not remember his name ) and said to me, "Where have you been all this time? We have been looking for you!" And I replied, "Nowhere. It was he that disappeared."

Albeiro took me outside the balcony and I could see the city of Paris laid out in front of me. I could also see Dina's apartment at the other end and was thinking if she could see me. And then it happened all over again as it did in real life many years ago. Albiero and I were once again - lovers.

He took me everywhere. We went shopping ... we went to the parks, we just went walking and talking .. and then we would return back to his flat and just enjoy one another. At this point, I had forgotten that I was supposed to visit with my best friend Dina. Although I did remember in the dream a part where I was trying to convince her to get together with Albeiro's best friend too ... whose name escapes me.

I know that how I describe this dream, may not seem strange at all ... but to me it was. I have never dreamed of Albeiro before, nor have I ever been to Paris in this lifetime, but it seemed as real as my life seems now .. and it was such a disappoinment to wake up.

I met Albeiro in my real life almost 6 years ago in South Texas. Back then, I had frequented many of the clubs and bars pretty much every weekend for a year. I had seen Albeiro at every one, for a whole year. The first time I ever laid eyes on him, was when I caught him staring at me from the other side of the room. When he saw me looking, he walked over to me and said, "Save the last dance for me?" And I just nodded and said, "Of course."

Every weekend or practically at every club or bar I would go to, Albeiro would be there. We would always meet up eventually during the evening, pass one another and then he would say, "Save the last dance for me?" And I would reply. "But of course!"

Even if it were only a bar and there would of course be music playing and even if the music was not appropriate to dance to, he would always somehow seek me out and hold out his hand and say, "Shall me dance my love?" And I would give my hand to him and he would lead me to a place in the crowd and we would just dance - Slow at times or fast at others .. but we would never take our eyes off one another while dancing .. and this was the most intense and intriguing moments that I have ever had.

There was one time and it was the last time that I ever saw him.

It was at a dance club and as usual he had found me with my friends and asked me to dance the last dance. As we were dancing he had asked me, "And what is your name by the way?" I answered and asked him in return, "... and what is yours?" And that was the first time I ever knew his name, "Albeiro" I do not even know if I am spelling it right.

That night, for some reason, when the lights of the club had turned on and everyone was getting ready to leave, he just kept holding my hand and whispered to me, "This time we will not be apart anymore".

That night we spent the rest of it together .. and we woke up the following morning together where he made a wonderful breakfast!

That morning he had told me, "You will be the one that I will spend the rest of my life with. Do you agree?" And I replied, "But of course."

That day, we actually did errands together. We went shopping buying new clothes, as I was going to meet his family for dinner that night. It all seemed natural and appropriate that I found out the name of a man I had been saving every last dance for, for a whole year, just the night before .. that we finally made love and that I would be meeting his family.

When our errands were finished, he dropped me off at my apartment and said that he would pick me up later on at 7 pm. As usual he had kissed my hand and said, "Save the last dance for me?" And I replied, "But of course!"

I waited all night. He never came.
I did not think anything of it. I did not feel bad. I had thought that perhaps something happened and he could not carry out the plans. For a whole week I did not even worry. When the weekend came I did my usual clubbing and bar-hopping and looked for Albeiro .... but he was no where to be seen.

Eventually I stopped going out. It had gotten rather boring and passe. A year later I had happened to go out with a group of girlfriends .. and I saw a guy that Albeiro would always hang out with. He was with other people, but with no Albeiro. We had passed eachother on the way to the bar and he recogznized me publicly and exclaimed to his friends, "Ah .. .this is the Girl that Albeiro was going to marry!" I was stunned. The guy leaned over to me and whispered, "You were the girl of his dreams you know .... that is what he had told me." I had to ask him, "Where is Albeiro tonight?"

"You don't know? He died in a ..... ummm, accident last year! I knew he wanted me to find you and tell you but I did not know how to get a hold of you. I'm sorry. He was going to propose to you .. I still have the ring! Do you want it!"

I said, "Oh! .. No .. . "

Just then, one of the girls that the guy was with was starting to give me the look so that ended the conversation.

It has now been over 6 years, and I had dreamt of this Albeiro only today. It is October 4. October 4 - six years ago was the last time I ever saw my Albeiro. And it was the last time I ever danced.

Of course I met up with Albeiro's friend at a restaurant . I found out that Albeiro was Columbian. That explained the accent, the blonde hair and the green eyes and the dance moves!

That may have also explained the amount of money we had spent that last day. His friend told me that Albeiro's family was involved in drug smuggling.


Sigh ...


4.10.04 23:59


Up on the roof


It rained today and as I was walking past a brownstone building I happened to pick up a familiar smell and I felt my mind gathering up the points that create the memory of Jody on drums in the rain with the weeds and the band on the roof behind the Neon Fuji sign.

What the .. ?!
What kind of memory is that digital femme?!
Are you on drugs or something?!
(Some of you might be thinking this as you are reading this but I say to you, "No, not on drugs now. But was, back then .. just a little bit." )

Jody was this cool, just walked off the cover of a Rolling Stone Mag slash G.Q. photo shoot. His mother had worked for Key Publishers (then) division of Toronto Life Fashion Magazine and he was hired by the company's construction/renovation crew for odd jobs. His real life centered around playing amazing drums with a band who all lived on the top floor of a 7 story warehouse converted loft. You know, the kind of warehouse loft where a huge freight elevator opened up to the living room.

I met Jody the summer I started working for WHERE Toronto Magazine. He had longish shoulder length hair that he would always flip off his face every time he bent down. He was to build a new office space in my area so we got to do a lot of talking in between the screwing and nailing and pounding ;oP

Well, that summer, I can tell you I was like a groupie. I went to almost every gig and practice (almost) and that was the summer that I was named the "James Bond Girl". The guitarist named me that from the movie License to Kill, thinking I had a resemblance to Talisa Soto - yeah right!

Such an incredible time really, to have been given the opportunity to experience the so called "rock band life style". It's true for the most part. They do a lot of drugs. But I never saw any hard drugs ... not that I was aware of, just the usual weed. But the good stuff.

And it's true about what they say about drummers. ;o)

There was one night that was one of the most surreal of all. It was dusk and Jody and I had just finished dinner at a nearby cafe. We were so excited because the band was going to have a video made on the weekend on the roof of their loft. This loft was incredible. It obviously occupied the whole building space. The ceilings were like 15 feet high and windows from top to bottom. The best part of it was that one of the band members had a shark tank built into the wall and we would sit around talking and just watching the sharks move thru the large aquarium. After dinner we went over to Jody's place and the band was already on the roof practicing.

I'll never forget that night.

The band was playing on a makeshift stage that was built on the roof for the video. Since it was dusk .. the sun had barely touched the horizon that laid behind the band as backdrop and the colours in the sky were fantastic. I took my usual place underneath the big neon bill board display for Fuji Film and rested my back on the steel scaffold, just watching Jody play on the drums.

It started to rain.

Slow, small raindrops at first - making the fragrance of the marijuana smell that more sweet, that more potent.

The band kept playing as the rain started in to pour and I watched Jody's shoulder length hair get drenched while he continued to throw his head back and forth and side to side - it was totally, like sex.

They played non-stop for nearly an hour and a half and the rain just kept pouring down. The only lights were that of the city's skyline to the left and the red Fuji Neon sign, that at this point, illuminated the roof top in a red hazy stream.

And at this point, I was lost in the rain, amongst the fragrance of the droplet-kissed marijuana all the while - Jody was on the drums looking rather red.

I woke up that morning with a cold and sharks swimming over my head.

Needless to say, Jody and I only lasted that summer long. I would still see him around the building doing odd jobs and every now and then he would stop by my desk to say "Hey there sweetie! How's my James Bond Girl?"
We managed to maintain a good friendship until he left the city to pursue his rock band lifestyle further.

The reality was, I could not be a groupie forever, and eventually even James Bond would get another girl. But it was surreal while it lasted.


By the time I got home the rain had stopped and I realized that I had walked the last few blocks re-living this memory.
I remembered last Monday's dream of Albeiro ...

Hmmmm. Such melancholy digital femme? Aren't we a bit nostalgic lately?

Ahhhh ... it is the Autumn!
5.10.04 08:29


The Sun's OUT




I've been in a rather melancholy mood of late. The Autumn season always does this to me. It's been raining all week and this puts me in a bit of a strange and delicate and thoughtful - QUIET.


I picked up a book called "GALLILEO'S DAUGHTER" the other day (amongst other books I've been reading) and this one is touching. Such lovesoft whispers in the writings, and the magic of being taken into the personal world of one the greatest genius' of all time.


I put the book down after only a few chapters and allowed my thoughts to flow where it will ....


.. again back to memories, of my father this time, and of the countless letters I had written to myself and to Ian.


I will have to create a separate entry on my father and even while I type this the words of songs such, "To Russia With Love", "Strangers in The Night", "When they Begin the Beguine", "All the Things You Are", "Moon River" and "Born Free", flood my brain and it tickles.


On letter writing, I came across a letter I wrote myself when I was 12 years old for when I'd turn 30. Rather interesting as I naively (sp?) broadcasted events that should've/would've happened by the time I turned 30. ALl of which came true, except the trip to Europe. At least I still have something on that list that I have not yet done. And of course many more things were added to that list, only after the fact.





You have, then you don't have.


You love so strongly, then you learn to love lightly with an open mind and an open heart .. and as the years sweep past, you forget that being open had subjected yourself to great healing!






I think I shall start up a letter to myself for when I turn 50!


8.10.04 23:37


Gone ... but not Forgotten




I saw Dr. Kennedy today.


I hadn't seen him since he inserted a chest tube in Tommy a couple of months ago. I asked him if he had heard from her since and I mentioned that she had probably completed her set of chemo and radiation therapy by now .. and with that, he gave me such a look. So I asked him, "Sir, what was that look for?"


sigh "... to be honest, I don't think she's still around. I mean, I'd be surprised if she would have lasted more than 2 weeks from the time she left here." was what he had told me.


My heart hurt.


Towards mid afternoon I had passed the nursing station and a familiar fragrance filled my senses, not just my nose, and I couldn't make heads or tails of where I had smelled it before.


Again in the evening I got a waft of that same sweet fragrance so I asked our Unit Clerk, Donna, "What IS that smell, it smells beautiful and it's giving me such a warm feeling!"


Donna held out her wrist and said, "Here, smell this!"


It was her wrist!


"What is that fragrance?" I asked her.


She took out her purse and pulled out a box. She opened up the box to reveal a simple bottle of cologne. It was Lime Basil & Mandarin by Jo Malone.


I nearly broke down in tears.


"Where did you get that?!" I asked Donna.


"I found it in the gift shop downstairs. I just bought it earlier today. You like it?"


"What made you buy it?" I asked Donna.


"I dunno. I had to get a card for my friend and saw this on the shelf and I got this impulse to get it! Here, give me your wrist ... " and Donna sprayed a little dab on my right wrist.


I brought my wrist up to my nose and breathed in so tenderly.


Jo Malone's Lime Basil & Mandarin was the fragrance that Tommy wore!


She was with me today. All Day.


She is with me forever.





Tommy dear,


I can no longer hear your whispers of gratitude,


nor see the winces of pain on your face,


and yet your impression has left such a magnitude


of sentiments that time cannot erase.


Lime Basil & Mandarin fills this air tonight.


And I thank you dearly for entering my life.



~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *


Till we meet again.


9.10.04 04:25


If A Picture Paints a Thousand Words ...


..... well, maybe not a thousand.


Phone Cam draw with my best friend Jacob. I won!


Ray of light hitting building. What else could I call it other than the obvious.


Riddle: Why did the man in the wheel chair crosss the road?

Answer: Ummmm, DHO! To get to the other side.


Part of my living space. It's really not THAT Green.


Looked up and saw this!


Picasso's Birthday!

I didn't run out of things to blog. Just wanted to change the rhythm of things .....
Change is good.
12.10.04 23:42


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