Destiny could only take us so far

So, I was thinking of a new topic for this blog.  Then yesterday, on Facebook, I posted a reply to an old friend’s comment on my wall and it just grabbed me.  That comment was THE perfect topic.   And that’s what you can read up there now.  I just love it when I get to quote myself.

Being Asian, I usually feel it’s my obligation to believe in tradition (which I do and I like), superstition (which I follow not because of belief per se but because I’d rather be safe than sorry), supernatural beings (which I don’t want to think about and blame the Japanese for.. those dang movies are really scary) and religion (which I hope I’m treading on ever-so-lightly here so as not to encourage.. uhm… passionate discussion) that tells us everything in this world is preordained.

A quote in one of my favourite movies, The 13^th Warrior, goes, “The Old Father wound the scale of your life a long time ago.  Go and hide in a hole if you wish but you won’t live one instant longer.  Your fate is fixed.” True enough.  We don’t get to choose when to leave this wonderful planet.  We were also not part of the planning committee that decided how we would come here in the first place.  I mean, it would have been nice if we were asked what kind of life we wanted to live right off the bat, wouldn’t it?

Therefore, we had no control of our lineage and our parentage.  We didn’t get to choose what kind of childhood we had – what social status we got, what school we went to, what places we visited.  All those were dependent on what our parents could afford – which reminds me of a friend’s funny remark, “Why, oh why didn’t I get to be Michael Jordan’s daughter?” Indeed.  But hey, with all due respect, though.  Our parents didn’t really get to have a say in the matter as well – which was quite lucky.  Had my mother been given a choice between a banana tree and me, I believe she would’ve picked the banana tree. (Side note: Apparently, according to this article, bananas do NOT grow on trees.  But that’s not the point.)

The point is….  nobody really gets to choose.  In that sense, destiny is as real as the Statue of Liberty.  Yes, our lives are preordained.  There are other forces at work which are outside of our control.  We do not have so much of a say in our lives until we get to a certain age, and by that time, we already have that end of the line to worry about.

But what some people fail to note is…. at some point, we ARE given the power to choose. There’s a certain time in our lives when destiny relinquishes the wheel and takes the backseat and we are given full control of our journey.  This is the only part that matters – where our strengths and our real personalities are put to the test.

When destiny stops leading the way, where are you going to lead It?  Where are you going to lead yourself?  How fast or how slow will you travel?  How often will you stop and enjoy the view? How will you manage the rough roads and the sand storms on your way?

Would you take the easy way out?  Would you hand over that wheel back to destiny?

Whiner’s Clubs

I’m a veritable whiner.  I whine about the simplest things, the easiest tasks.  Luckily, at work, there’s nothing in the employee handbook that says it’s a terminable offense, or my manager would’ve served me my walking papers by now.  He’s usually the first person to receive the brunt of my whining.  He tells me to do something I don’t want to do, I whine.  He tells me to do something I want to do, I still whine just to annoy him.  (By the way, it’s a one-upmanship game that my colleagues and I play with him.  He always wins in the end (of course, insubordination’s a Level 3 offense) but it’s no fun when we don’t complain first.  And all’s done good-naturedly – he’s a good boss, we like him.)

When I was younger, I hated it when people whine. I’m very solutions-focused and when folks brought their complaints to me, the first thing I’d ask is, “Well, what will you do about it?”  And it annoyed me to hell and back when they wouldn’t do anything about what they were whining about and just continue whining forever.  (I was involved in a most unusual (at least for me) case of cyber-quarrel years ago when I accidentally tagged one of my private journal entries as public and I was ranting about somebody’s, uhm, well, state of pouring out her problems.)

Age brings with it certain gifts – like mellowness, patience and maturity.  I no more think there’s anything wrong with whining per se.  It can be considered as freedom of expression – even therapeutic and productive, sometimes.  You get stuff off your chest, out in the open, you don’t get a heart attack and your boss (if he’s like my boss), gets wind of it and takes it either as an amusing act if not constructive feedback.  It could happen.

With my whining expertise and by the powers of observation vested in me, I felt it my duty to classify the whiners so you can determine which one the people around you belong to.  And so you can be guided accordingly.

The first group, I call “The Good Whiners Club”.  They’re the people who would whine like their lives depend on it.  For five minutes.  Then they get right down to what they’re supposed to do and they deliver a kickass job.  Most people I know (and I hope myself as well) belong to this club.  Whining is an assertion of their personality.  Make no mistake that this is, still, a group of intellectuals.  You’ll learn a lot from them.  You can develop your rebuttal skills.  You’ll get tips to boost your confidence.  Yes, they might cause your ears to fall off but, when everything’s said and done, this is the group you want on your team.

Then there are the people who whine….. and whine….. and whine……. They whine for the purpose of whining.  For them, it’s as normal as breathing.  They belong to the second group I labelled “The Long and Whining Road Club”.  Every month or so, they hold a prayer rally that no one takes away the stuff they whine about.  Their slogan is “Give us Liberty something to whine about or give us Death”.  If you’re a sucker for tragedies, you want this people around you.  If for nothing else, just so you can count your blessings and gloat in private about how positive you still are compared to them.

The most menacing is the third group – “The Whine and Dine Club.”  When you see people from this group, I urge you to make the see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil sign and then RUN!  Run as fast as you can.  If you don’t, these people will feed on you.  They will drain you of all energy.  They will exhaust you until you can’t function anymore, until you feel dissatisfied with your work, your life, and even your state of being. This group believes in the saying “misery loves company” and they are actively campaigning.  Again, this is the most dangerous group.  Join them at your peril.

I refuse to be a boring blogger

Last night, I got home from one of the most horrible Fridays in PerkyJazz history.  I’ll spare you the details because I don’t want you to fall asleep while you’re reading my blog.  That won’t be fun for my readership.  Suffice it to say that I have no idea where the 8 of my 24-hour day went.  It was all a blur.

So there I was, ready for the weekend. Came home, had dinner, read a book with daughter, called sister, wrote and posted on blog, slept. 

This morning, after a couple of hours lazing around the house, I checked on my blog and read what I posted last night. 

Oh, my goodness! I am becoming the blogger whose blog I don’t read.

When it comes to writing, I’m not in the habit of critiquing myself.  A cyber-friend of mine used to do that for me (JC, I miss yah!).  I usually just write as I think. And anyway, I’m not a professional writer.  I don’t think anyone’s going to crucify me should I break any writing rule.  But I‘m very much dissatisfied with my entry last night.  It started off fine but halfway it started getting……….. serious.

Now, I don’t have anything against people who write serious stuff.  I respect them and they’re the ones I look up when I’m doing work-related research.  I am grateful for their presence on the internet.  As an educator, I need them as much as I need a glass of ice-cold water on a hot Saturday afternoon, excuse me while I get some from the fridge….

Okay, I’m back.  Now, where are we?

….but I’m an advocate of the “learning should be fun” theory.  Yes, I understand the need for lectures, but it won’t be very effective if the student is sleeping, would it?  And anyway, I’m not blogging as a lecturer.  I’m blogging as a friend who can give another friend advice without sounding formal and lecture-ish.  I’m the fun psyche guru.  The one you can gobble banana split with while you’re wallowing in despair.  The one who won’t empathize nor sympathize but will just bash you on the head with a pillow should you decide to burrow in self-pity.

The road to self-improvement and personal development should be fun.  It’s where we can laugh at our mistakes as we learn from them, where we poke fun at each other as we jump over potholes and other obstacles, as we try to get to much better roads. The adventure is on the journey, not the destination. 

That’s the focus of this blog.  And I resolve to make this a fun and exciting trip you’ll take with me.

The SVP looked at me, and I’m a puddle on the floor.

We used to have a Senior Vice President (yes, the caps are intentional) who I met on several occasions.   Think Vin Diesel.  Our former SVP is less buff but taller, wears glasses, dresses  like a Wall Street executive, and stands and walks like a US Marine (probably because he was a US Marine…… or Navy, or Army?  One of those three.  Sorry, I’ve forgotten which one).  When I hear he’s in Manila, I contact my invisibility potions dealer.  Seriously, I consider myself very fluent in English (I’ve been teaching the language for nine years!) but the first time I met the guy, I could only utter a maximum of four words – nice, to, meet, you. 

There’ll always be a time when we come face-to-face with someone whose aura’s just bursting with confidence and authority.  In the presence of that, we (ordinary mortals) feel intimidated that we couldn’t talk (or end up babbling if we do) and we feel the urge to just run away.

But that’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s one of our most basic instincts kicking in.  It goes back to when the world was young and the Homo sapiens were hunting for food right beside the bears and the lions.  That was before society, education, invention and all the other factors that elevated us, humans, to the highest level of intellectual life form.  When all creatures were divided into just two groups: predator or prey.

We get intimidated by people who we think are bigger than us, have a higher social status than us or have something that we don’t have which makes them more superior to us.  The same way that a prey would fear a predator – which could be bigger, stronger, or something that has big teeth or sharp claws.

As per our society’s rules, it could be that people are not created equal but that doesn’t necessarily mean that one person is better than the other.  We all have our strengths and weaknesses.  We all have our own area of expertise.  My daughter’s nanny might not know how to speak English but I can never, for the life of me, learn how to make folds that come out looking like flowers out of our curtains at home.  Believe me, I tried.  I make around six times more money than what our neighbourhood handyman earns, but when the sink won’t drain or when the bathroom gets clogged, I’m at his mercy. 

Elephants might be huge but they don’t have fangs.  Snakes may have fangs but they don’t have stingers.  Bees may have stingers but they can’t curl up in a ball. That’s the balance of life.

I’ve laid down the facts.  Draw your conclusions.

Exorcising Your Ghosts

Yesterday, I mentioned something about exorcism in reference to my pic that I posted. But let’s agree not to discuss my gorgeousness, shall we?  I’d like to get right down to business so as not to waste your time, my precious reader.

So, on to business.

Ebenezer Scrooge was visited by three ghosts (not to mention Marley’s) in that wonderful Dickens’ novel, “A Christmas Carol”.  “Bah! Humbug!”  What does that have to do with confidence building or personality development, PJ? 

Well, all of us have ghosts.  And I don’t mean those misty, wispy, horror creatures that film producers are always scaring us with. For the record, I do believe in ghosts (it’s selfish to think that the world is filled with only us, mortals) but ghosts and me, we have an agreement.  I don’t see them, they don’t see me. I’d like to keep it that way. 

Anyway, I’m digressing.  Back to topic.

In a perfect world, all of our memories would be good.  Sadly we don’t live in one.  So, along with those good memories that we treasure are the ones that haunt us.  The bad ones.  The scary ones.  Our ghosts.  Scrooge was damned lucky he only got visited once.  And it was on Christmas Eve, maybe the ghosts just got really bored and decided to scare somebody for a bit of fun. But our ghosts have been visiting us all the time, even when we’re not aware of them.

What are these ghosts, precisely?

It could be anything bad that you still remember.  Those that hurt you or embarrassed you, those unpleasant things that you had to go through earlier in life.  Like the time when you got rejected or when you found out the person you love was cheating on you?  When your teacher scolded you in front of the class or when that snotty kid laughed at you when you fell off the swing?  When you wanted something so bad but you ended up not getting it?  Or when you did something really horrible and felt guilty afterwards?

You may have thought that you’ve already gotten over them but they’re still there, ready to pounce on you and catch you at your most vulnerable.  They make you feel weak and insecure.  They make you think that you’re not good enough or strong enough.  Why do you think are you nervous about that upcoming job interview? Why is it that your stomach starts to churn when you’re about to speak in front of an audience?  Why do you feel uncomfortable when your boyfriend eyeballs another girl?

The answers lie in your past, the experiences that still haunt you until now.  How do you get rid of them?  How do you exorcise your ghosts?

Some people will tell you to just forget them but that’s easier said than done.  Considering the fact that a person’s memory has a bigger capacity than my 250-gigabyte laptop, you’d have more luck finding that proverbial needle-in-a-haystack than permanently forgetting events in your past that stirred your most intense emotions.

I have a suggestion. Don’t get rid of them.  Don’t exorcise your ghosts.  Forgive them and be friends with them.

WHAT?

Make peace with your past.  Be friends with your past.  All of it, the good and the bad.   Don’t just treasure the good memories.  Embrace the bad ones, too.  They go together.  Had it not been for the bad, could we have recognized the good?

Don’t shun the bad memories, don’t be ashamed of them.  Realize that they also did their part to make you the person that you are now – a better one, a person who can withstand the worst of storms and the toughest of challenges anytime.  Your good memories couldn’t have prepared you for those, your bad memories did.  That’s why they’re there.  That is why they are a part of you.  Realize that and be thankful for it.

It won’t do you any good to exorcise your ghosts.  They have a habit of coming back.  Welcome them and let them stay.  That way, you’ll stop being scared of them.

But then again…… They wouldn’t be called ghosts anymore, would they?

Finding My Focus

A few weeks ago, for lack of better things to do, I signed up for a blog.  A couple of clicks here, a couple of clacks there and, voila!  Welcome to WordPress, PerkyJazz!

And then…….. nothing.

Well, if you scroll down a little, I DID write something about the state of my “cow-lessness” in Farmville, and I posted a pic of myself (which I hope didn’t send you running to find a priest qualified to perform an exorcism) with that nice little poem “Smile” that got me my very first comment (thank you again, slpmartin).  For those who are into poems, check his blog out.  Wonderful poems, great artwork.  And I also put another itty-bitty blog about me already on the verge of mental breakdown still contemplating about what to write about.

But still……… nothing.

It’s not that I don’t have anything to talk about, no.  Trust me.  I’m a language trainer in my real life.  Talking is what I’m good at.  No, it’s not that at all.  It’s the multitude of ideas that I wanted to blog about that got me staring into space.  Numb.  Mumbling like a loony that my daughter’s nanny thought it wise to put the number of the nearest mental facility on speed-dial. Hah!  As if I don’t look crazy enough in my normal state.

Oh, well……. still nothing.

Then it hit me. 

I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking about what I want to write about that I forgot to think about what I want to share to those who will read this blog.   This should not be just for me.  This should be for the readers, too.  If it’s just for me, I could start an offline journal that I could bequeath to my daughter  when the Holy Father decides it’s time to pick me up and take me to kingdom-come. 

So, THERE is my focus. 

I don’t want to just write.  I want to share.  I don’t want to just blog.  I want to reach out.  I want to share ideas with you.  Things that you might want to read about, that might help you, even.

So, what can I share with you?

In the coming days, I’ll be posting stuff about confidence-building and personality development.  No, not the stuff you can read in self-help books and psychology journals.  I can already hear you saying, “Ho-hum, boring.  Lots of those on the internet already. *rolls eyes*”. 

To be honest, I’m no expert.  I can’t say I know more than you do because that’s probably not true.  I cannot hold a candle to the academics and the Ph.D. holders.  Heck, I don’t even read non-fiction.  I get terrible headaches when I try to read analytically-written, medical/professional terminology-filled self-help stuff. 

But I’ve got stories and best practices that I’m willing to share.  Maybe they can be of use to you.  Maybe you can try them out, put them into practice.  They might help you know yourself a bit more, trust yourself a bit more, enjoy  life a bit more. 

And if I share them with you, maybe you can share some of your best practices, too.  Maybe we can trade ideas.  And maybe, just maybe, even if we don’t meet face-to-face, we can reach out and get to know each other better.

And you know what?  I think that’s what I really want.

Smile

A big smile for everyone.

Smiling is infectious, you catch it like the flu,

When someone smiled at me today, I started smiling too.

I passed around the corner and someone saw my grin

When he smiled I realized, I’d passed it on to him.

I thought about that smile then I realized its worth,

A single smile, just like mine, could travel round the earth.

So, if you feel a smile begin, don’t leave it undetected

Let’s start an epidemic quick, and get the world infected!

 Everyone needs a smile!

From: www.allinspiration.com

Still contemplating…

I have a post it on my desktop that says “Work on your Blog!”

It was easier to post the post it note than do exactly what it says.  Honestly, I’m still trying to find a niche that I would want to work on.

I can write about my work (I’m a language trainer) since I love it very much. Or make this a personality development site (I love giving people advice on confidence-building).  Or I can blog about stuff that I like to do or surf about.  I’m really not sure.

The only thing I’m sure of right now is that I don’t want to start something that I’d lose interest on in the future.  Which is why it’s difficult for me to decide on my niche.  I want this site to grow as I’m growing and to still be alive even when I’m already retired. 

So, until the time comes when I’m already sure of what I want… I’m open to suggestions.

If I had known, I wouldn’t have sold my cows!

I was in the Dominican Republic late last year to conduct language training and, due to financial constraints, had to spend most of my free time in the confines of Hotel Intercontinental Centenario V, where I stayed for a month.  The hotel was wonderful, the staff friendly and the breakfast, FANTABULOUS!  But what I loved the most aside from all that, was the kick-ass internet connection.  It was incredibly fast that my colleague, Kino, spent most of his time closeted in his own room, donwloading movies like crazy.

During the lags in keeping in touch with people from home through Facebook, I decided to try Farmville.  And boy, did I get addicted or what?  Within 3 weeks, I went from Level 1 to Level 20+, planting and harvesting, planting and harvesting, planting and harvesting.   Well, in between those, I worked, of course.  I wasn’t in the Dominican Republic for pleasure, mind.  And roamed around a bit (checked out Christopher Columbus’ son’s house downtown).  But as soon as I got back to the hotel, it was back to planting and harvesting, planting and harvesting, planting and harvesting.

So my friends in Manila who were already addicted to Farmville (gosh, you should see their farms, they’re more like palace grounds to me!), thunderstruck but pleased with my new-found Farmville love, sent me more animals than I could ever hope to take care of. Chickens, ducks, horses, sheep, ducks and of course, elephants (surely, you couldn’t have a farm and not have an elephant! *gasp*).  And cows.  White cows that give milk, brown cows that give chocolate milk and pink cows that give strawberry-flavored milk (those Zynga peeps, their imaginations are overflowing).  So aside from harvesting the crops, I also went harvesting the animals.  I felt guilty having so much spare time.

Then I went back to Manila.  With the hustle and bustle of the holiday seasons, not to mention me having a prepaid internet connection (that sucked bigtime) that would’ve used up all my savings had I continued playing, I proceeded to not visiting my farm until two weeks ago.  That’s when I finally signed up for unlimited internet (that still sucks, not as much, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers… internet providers in the Philippines aren’t exactly well-loved).

The first thing I did when I visited Farmville was to redesign my land and get rid of the animals.  Sell, sell, sell.  Don’t ask me why.   I just used the coins I made in selling them to upgrade to a wider land area where I could just focus on planting and harvesting crops instead.  Big mistake. 

But apparently, the Zynga peeps had already thought about people getting tired of looking at all those chickens and cows etc.  that don’t actually do anything other than nod and sway and added a Chicken Coop, a Dairy Farm and Stables (that you could sort of construct for the horses, i don’t know, i haven’t gotten that far on my comeback) for some of the animals.  Now people don’t need to harvest chickens (small as they are) and cows (which are only slightly bigger) individually (which as a rather boring ordeal).  Now you can click on their coop/farm and harvest them all in one go. Nice!

But too late.  Now I only have one cow in my dairy farm, and 7 chickens in my chicken coop.  The price I pay for not being updated.  I can only hope and pray that the people whose gifts I ignored during the time that I visited Facebook sporadically will forgive me and send me animals as gifts again. But wait!  Most of them, as I can see, are not active in Farmville anymore.  *sigh*

Hello, WordPress!

So I’ve gone ahead and signed up with a WordPress account.  Then comes the inevitable question.  Now what?! 

All I know is that, when I surf the net for stuff that I’m currently interested in, I almost usually end up in WP reading someone’s blog about the stuff I was looking for.  So, what the heck!  This might just be where I should be. 

Let me welcome myself then to this new world and hopefully there’s something wonderful in store for me here.