bearing witness

When I watched Shall We Dance yesterday, I thought about a particular question in the film that I never really thought of asking myself: ���Why do people get married?���

Susan Sarandon���s character answers,
���We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything-- the good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying, 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'."

There must be a million and one reasons (both right and wrong) why people get married, but nobody ever said you ought to stick to just one reason to justify your decision. In any case, this particular quote struck me in the same way as when my Philosophy teacher in junior year asked, ���Who���s going to live as a testament to the fact that you lived? Who���s going to remember that you lived?��� And mind you, this isn���t about leaving offsprings, or having monuments named after you. Rather, it���s about living on long after you���ve gone, having people live their lives differently because your existence, however simple or uneventful as it may have seemed, mattered to them.

Of course, we can always say our parents are going to remember that we lived; our siblings, relatives, and friends are definitely going to miss us when we die. But I guess, the romantic in me will say that what women mean to their husbands (and vice-versa) is different from what they mean to their friends, children, relatives, etc. I say it���s because there���s a level of deep intimacy involved and the existence of a union that goes beyond the physical, the measurable, and the here and now.

I���ve heard a lot about marriage, enough to know that it isn���t something one should rush into, yet never quite enough to make me an unbeliever. The world can go on talking about failing marriages and marriages bound to doom, I don���t give a damn. I still love the idea of having someone who actually looks forward to seeing my face (in all it���s shameless, don���t-disturb-me-I���m-kissing-Brad Pitt-in-my-dream glory) first thing in the morning for the next God-knows-how-many years of his life; or maybe just someone who dies a little when I leave (for work or for the nearby talipapa); or even someone who knows me all too well that he can read my mind and knows that when I say, ���Nothing,��� when he asks, ���What���s wrong?��� he knows that something is, indeed, wrong���

My boyfriend says I���m a bonafide woman (not that there���s been room for doubt), in the sense that I always have to be reassured that I���m loved, I���m pretty, I���m sexy (more emphasis on the last two��� he isn���t my boyfriend for nothing! Hehe) I guess women are like that precisely because of what the quote above posits: having a witness to our lives. Now, to avoid being attacked by feminist movements, I���m going to say that it goes beyond having witnesses to the physical. And it does, really. It���s feeling how important we are to somebody, how our presence makes them more alive, and how our absence makes them wish they could move mountains to be with us. I���m not trying to rationalize women���s insecurities (because honestly, sometimes it���s just plain, unfounded insecurity) with what I���m saying, but it���s probably more of lending depth to the notion of having a witness to your life, and being a witness to another���s.

I guess having witnesses to our lives in a marriage is like celebrities having the paparazzi follow them everywhere. And I don���t mean this in a negative, annoying manner. On the contrary, it���s like having your life, even the most ordinary aspects of it, mean a lot to another, so much that this other person devotes a part of who he is (if not his entire self) to keep on witnessing it unfold. This, too, perhaps, is where the notion of commitment comes in, in the sense that however boring the everyday has become, you still choose to bear witness to the dreariness of it. And just like the paparazzi, the high���s and low���s of the person���s life will always be the points where your commitment as witness is put to the test (I���ve included the high���s in this with thesemundane examples in mind: a guy has to understand how fundamentally gratifying it is for a woman to find, among a heap of clothes on sale, the shirt she likes in exactly her size; and likewise, a woman has to accept that that shot was indeed, an impossible shot to make, and the fact that it spelled the difference between winning and losing, well, that���s just, freakin��� amazing!

I���m thinking this concept of having witnesses to our lives in a marriage does not lie in the realm of idealism and hopeless romanticism. I personally think that it���s deeply ingrained in all of us, in our innermost desire to share our lives with someone who���s passionate enough to care about us. More importantly, I guess it���s about loving more than our hearts can allow that makes us avid witnesses to our partners in life.

of doubters and skeptics

on my 22nd birthday, i forgot to do one very important thing: visit a church. this wasn't the first time i failed to do so, but my 2nd. a play on 2's, huh? it was my mother's panata, as she'd call it, that i visit a church every birthday of mine. apparently, she was worried about how sickly i was as a kid that she had to make some kind of a promise such as this. so to make up for my lack of reverence to her promise, i paid our nearby church a friendly visit a day late.

i wasn't really planning to stay long, hence, i left the house in short shorts and a decent shirt. i was, instead, planning to walk 2 blocks to the nearby atm. however, when i reached the church, there was a mass and i couldn't bring myself inside, lest i might cause a stir with what i was wearing. i decided to stay outside and listen in on the homily, something i usually don't do (unless it's delivered by a Jesuit...hehe)

the priest was talking about how this society of ours has become so keen on asking for signs (being doubtful and skeptical); he said we are always looking for God in the extraordinary events, somewhat like waiting for a repeat of the multiplication of loaves or the turning of water to wine. this actually struck me, as i reflected on how i was also watching out for significant happenings in my life in order for me to believe that there is, indeed, a greater being. a lot of people are, in fact, egging me on to go back to praying, but for me, it just seems like a big show if i did. somehow, the things that happened to me, stuff i think i didn't deserve, caused me to turn my back on an already ailing faith. it was a betrayal of sorts, like a feeling that nothing was going my way. i had complete control over what i can do with my life, i thought. it doesn't mean that just because one doesn't pray, one can't get what he wants or deserves.

so as i was listening on, i remembered a line from a poem that boiled down to something like, "If God doesn't give you what you want, it's probably not for you, or not yet the time." i guess this is right, for what do i know of the great scheme of things? nothing, probably. i know only of asking for signs, of the validity of feeling betrayed when everything seems to just not go your way. the priest said this was perfectly understandable, especially among the poor who cannot see progress in their day-to-day activities. and this was like a slap on my face as i was standing by the church i entered as frequently as i did the men's CR in shangri-la in 2004 (read: never).

i'd say our blessings are really more abundant than we can estimate. the fact is, we will never really know how fortunate we are unless we see people in lesser states than we are in. but the thing is, it's not enough to know how blessed we are, rather, i think it's in how we perceive our roles in society given what we have, knowing that we are more able to sleep comfortably than others, that what we can spend on gimik night, some have to break their backs for an entire month to earn.

these were just some of the thoughts running through my head as i stood there half-thinking that this was a good homily, and the other half thinking that this would be a good premise to write an entry on...hehe...seriously, though, when the priest said we shouldn't look for God in the extraordinary events, but in the everyday, i knew he was right. everyday miracles, i'd say, like babies being born, the sun never failing to shine, Mango still on sale...ooops..., not that..hehe...everyday miracles, yeah...what i mean is, our realities have transcended boundaries what with the Internet, media, etc., such that we've unconsciously blocked the mystery in the seemingly mundane events. i think what's missing is the way we look around us with wonder (hmm...sounds like a Philo lesson to me), like how babies do...it's like they see everything for the first time. but for us, who've spent forever and a day going about stuff that seem to matter, the everyday has just become, well, everyday! normal, routine, mundane, uneventful...no "wow!" factor...

i think there's nothing wrong with asking for signs. what, perhaps, is wrongful, is to equate the granting of it to the existence of a transcendent power. i say wrongful, because if it isn't granted, then knowing how humans are and the vulnerability of our hearts, we can easily equate it to the thought that we've been abandoned, much like how the person in the "Footprints in the Sand" thought.

i've already probably ran the risk of sounding moralizing, but if it's any consolation, i know i'm still a long way to go from delivering a meaningful, heartfelt prayer. however, i know that there is no other way to go but back to the faith i left before i felt betrayed, back to a time when i didn't need to ask for a sign, when i just believed.

it's like love, i guess...it's not in the extraordinary gestures that we know how much we are loved, but in the simple, everyday acts that we tend to overlook.

okay: not the new over

in this day of hearts, i got a text message from one of my close college friends that sounded like i did way back in 2003. it was about getting over a heartbreak, apparently not yet being okay when you thought you were, and ultimately, just wondering, "when is this going to blow over, and when will genuine happiness be mine again?"

i've been warning my girl friends who are getting over someone that nothing can prepare them for the so-called battle ahead. one of them said she's had sleepless nights and bungled concentration at work where she's officemates with the guy, the other one is just plain getting through it one day at a time. the first one recently claimed as we were chatting that she was already okay and over the guy. mind you, this is the same girl who, back in the last week of december 2004, was unable to think straight, eat right, sleep well, the works, you know...so there we were, chatting away the facts that she had no regrets, no ill feelings, etc. it was good, i thought, and i was really happy for her to have recovered as quickly as her romance fizzled out. at the back of my mind, though, i was concerned that she might retract her claim to normalcy and go through the whole painful process again. i told her to be sure of what she was saying, and she said she was absolutely sure she was okay. she had a new guy, whose name is a funny mix of my exes'...hehe...ah....this is what i mean when i said, "it takes a new guy to forget the previous one..."

my second friend, the one who sent me a text, didn't have the luxury of having a new guy to help her cross from the i'm-not-over-him-yet phase to the i'm-finally-moving-on phase. she was still hurting inside, and frankly, i'm not surprised..although she did claim to be okay before. as i've said, talking to her about what happened, how she's dealing with it, is like talking to my old self, the one who didn't eat for a week (and lost 10lbs as a result), didn't read for Fr. David's class (which, as Ateneans know, is like suicide in the making), etc. now i know how i sounded like! pathetic in hindsight, but hey, during that time, i felt as if even winning the lottery wouldn't make me happy. if i could only strangle the guy she was with...oh well...it'd be like strangling my ex, too...hehe..that'd be fun...

anyway, when i was with our other college friends last saturday, i came to the conclusion that when a girl says she's okay, she probably is. but it doesn't follow that she's over him already. the term, "okay" most likely means she can get out of bed without dragging herself (although she might, but for some other reasons like work..hehe), or she can function "normally", whatever that means, or that she doesn't let the past consume her day. however, being over the guy is a totally different thing. it's the gray area in the world of breaking up. this friend i'm talking about is still haunted by the what if, the why, the how could this be questions that girls have to spend this lifetime and the next to talk about. it took awhile for me to come up with the right words, the kind that boost the spirit, but hey, i didn't go through it myself for nothing. i still keep with me a little notepad that friends of mine (these 2 girls included) gave me as a surprise when i was the one down in the dumps. aside from the fact that i'm thankful to have them as a support group, i'm even more thankful that we didn't get our hearts broken all at the same time! i cannot imagine what kind of a train wreck we'd all be with not one sane head..

getting over someone is indeed, a tricky thing. there's a song that runs through my head, "how can the same love that made me so happy/make me so sad/ i don't understand.." it pretty much sums up the confusion, the sadness, all the mixed emotions one has to experience in order to move forward. i don't know when my friend is going to claim, "i'm okay, and i'm over him" and mean it at the same time...it probably doesn't matter when. what does, is that she knows it isn't only a possiblity, but a reality that's just around the corner. i should know, i've been there..and if this is the cycle we have to go through to find our Mr. Right, i'm thinking he's going to be worth all the previous pains and hurts. that's something to look forward to, huh?

meet the friends

spending time with friends never fails to make me happy. last night, i met up with my college friends and my newfound friends (my boyfriend's clique) somewhere far from kissing couples dressed in red.

almost a year after graduation, my college friends and i still find ourselves reminiscing about college--how easy it was compared to work (although when we were still in college, God knows how much we lamented over Philo papers, graded recitations, long exams... the list is endless), and how laid-back the lifestyle was (I can hear Howie in my head saying, "watsup, blockmates? just chillin'?") oh well, isn't it always that way? that everything in hindsight seems to be less end-of-the-world-like as we saw it then.

i remember in college, i often told myself, "just let this day pass, and i'll be alright," or "i hope when i open my eyes, this hell week's going to be a thing of the past..." and now i think of all those hell weeks i survived (and yes, we did look like we've been to hell and back with those dark circles under our eyes, signalling to our professors how badly we crammed the night before), all the papers i wrote (some while pretending to listen to another professor), and all those recitations where i silently prayed to all the angels and saints that, "please let me be called next time when i'm more prepared," (although i believe the phrase, more prepared, never got to be internalized...acted out, maybe, but never internalized...hehe). i think of all these and just end up thinking, "i loved college...everything about it: the people, the bench, the fact that when you say blue and white it's not just Mama Mary that pops in your head but a school that's given us another identity: the Atenean...ahhhh....i just loved everything about it...

but i guess, amidst the hustle and bustle of student life, it's the friendships that i formed that has brought me down the sentimental lane...and i figured, these people know me in ways that other friends i have can only imagine...and it is likewise with my high school friends who have their own college barkada...
i'm thinking that perhaps there is a sort of exclusivity when it comes to having friends...you have college friends, high school friends, friends from work, and God knows from where else...but the point is, different sets of friends, different experiences, and of course, different levels of friendship...

so when i was with my boyfriend's own barkada, i wasn't thinking that i had to be closey-closey to them (not that this is in my nature) if only for the need to fit in. i saw that there existed a certain history in the way they dealt with each other, the way they reminisced about their own experiences together, etc...and it's actually fun to be the new girl, like outside looking in...kind of gives me access to a past i wasn't previously privy to...like being let in on a secret without pressuring the other party to spill the beans...

anyway, his friends are great...one i caught eyeing us and said she was kilig and thought we were a cute couple...hehe...nobody said that about us before...i think they're happy for him, just like how friends should be happy for a friend who's found happiness (did that make sense?)...so if i make him happy, then i'm happy, too...oh dear, i think i've never used the word happy as frequently as i just did...what the heck, i love the guy..so sue me...

friends...old ones, new ones...a psych exam i took in college showed that i only consider a few people as friends (i'm a character...i choose only those who can stand me)...it probably is true..but for those i call friends, it doesn't matter how many times we talk about the same boring things (or people), how many times we pretend to look for a place to eat yet end up at starbucks...at the end of the day, i guess what's more comforting is the fact that the concept of forever makes sense when i say, "friends forever..."

somebody's making me smile 

valentine's day blues no more

for the first time in my almost 22 years, i actually have someone to celebrate valentine's day with...well, okay..it's not like this is my first significant relationship, but it is, however, the only time that the guy's physically present. however, no matter how great things are going with us, im still looking forward more to the day following the 14th, the day i actually turn 22.

my boyfriend says i'm the only person in the world who has a countdown to her birthday...my friends don't disagree at all...somebody even said i was selfish for saying that the only day i look forward to in a year is my birthday!!! well, i really don't care much about that girl...i don't even know when her freakin' birthday is..not that i care...

so anyway, this tuesday is going to be the only day in the year that i can get away with almost anything...or at least i think that's how it works...i'm so excited though i know it's going to be as uneventful as the 14th for singles, or should i say, for singles who'd rather be attached...hehe...i don't care...i'm just happy i'm with someone i surprisingly love a lot...it's like the best birthday gift yet.

it feels great not to be part of the angst-filled, bitter-but-denying-it single crowd anymore (of course there's another single crowd, the one where the people are single but not lonely)...and as idealistic as i am, im thinking i'm not going to be part of that crowd again...well, at least not for a long time...