自然

Windchimes 1 Comment

Tatami slippers from Japan make me love walking. And the sea breeze early this morning was just cool and simply delightful. Unaware of my contentment and sublime happiness, the tricycle driver continued with his life. I wear my sunglasses for the glaring sun.

The acacia tree is enough to make me say I’m blessed.

On the two Suns

Optimism, the Train collection No Comments

Down are all my guards. What remains is optimism.

And I shall tell you something: I come from a place where vanity is exercised by some celebrities, but the common people live on real things of humble beauty—slippers, warm greetings, genuine care, friendships.

And then ride this place’s trains: nails painted in gloss and finished with little sparkling crystals, as if they aren’t the nails that could scratch one’s back, or open the tuna can for someone who couldn’t do it—they have confused the nails with everything but nails—an expression of beauty? No, anything but not beauty. At least the sparkling crystals on that lady in fur whispered: “We’re mourners for beauty strangled and drowned by our synthetic luster”. And at least that little baby boy kept on making children’s naughty but lively noises, or with all regret, I might have seen (and declared?) the place to be so lifeless—for one either busies himself with a book, or shuts his eyes to sleep, rather than talk with the other one beside him, or just share a smile, or just be content that all earth still beams with sunlight, or is blessed with rain.

Yes, I am from a place with dusty streets, or come June and July, flooded ones, but at least my happiness is elementary, and thus real. I come from a place where meant smiles are found, and buses and trains and public jeepneys breathe through people’s conversation, or through silent but heart-warming head-nods, or humble compliments and assistances. “Upo na po kayo lola” (“Here’s my seat granny, please take it”). I grew up in a place where people do not hesitate to go into or create instant friendships, and when help is needed, there is one—or two, or three.

Politeness is an option, not explicit in the language, but when freely given, it really means what it should mean in my home; and in there is also where humble beauty and goodness are given much appreciation, like the setting sun, children merrily playing on streetsides, and people living their everyday, most of the time with an innate contentment.

They say we have a long way to go to be like them. But I also say you have a longer way to go to be like us. I just hope that that little child will keep on being truly happy when he grows up, not by making loud noises on the train of course, but by at least keeping that smile I saw on his face, which was so fresh and real. And beautiful.

I just hope so.