Disconnected

It's been 8 months since I fled my mother's nest. Considering my age, that may sound funny and surprising for most Western people but we Filipinos take family ties very seriously, true to our Asian and Hispanic roots.

I've always had issues with work commute so I rented a tiny studio flat very close to the workplace. I was worried that living alone would drive me nuts in a jiffy but it did the exact opposite instead. I've significantly gotten better from my anxiety, and dare I say, I find myself to be more at peace these days than the last couple of months before I moved out.

There is no such thing as too may pillows.

I think it's got something to do with the other changes that went with it. My new workplace is in Quezon City, very close to the suburbs, it's gritty but more familiar - a lot more "human-y" than my previous workpace in the business district of Makati, which in the recent years I find to be too cold and corporatey.

I haven't got a TV nor an internet subscription so my time on social media has been very limited. Not that I feel I'm missing out anyway. I've gotten to a point where I really don't care about most of the stuff I see on my feed. At worst, they trigger insecurities and panic attacks. I've also gotten lazy writing posts. People generally don't give a damn about what you eat, or what you do, or your selfies, so why bother?

Growing herbs in a space with limited sunlight is challenging, but well worth it.

Oddly, I also feel more personally connected with friends. We share memes and gossip on messenger. We occasionally talk on the phone, just like the old days. And if we miss each other too much, we go out, or sometimes I host little overnight dinners in my flat.

There have been discussions about how the internet age is making people more lonely. I don't want to be "that guy" whingeing about the dangers of modern tech. I love video games and I work in I.T. after all. I think the problem is more due to our lack of connection and self-awareness than social media. Living alone does get lonely sometimes, but having less distractions has made me more in touch with my soul.

Read more »

A Year and A Day

So, it's been a year since I discovered I've got a fucked-up liver. So far, my health has improved, some strength has been regained, but the damage has been done. Basically, I'm still dying very slowly. Actually we all are, I just got a head start. But I wouldn't have survived this difficult year if it weren't for good doctors, good friends, strength of spirit, sheer luck, and some magic. I'm still grateful.

I'm actually fighting my battles on two fronts: one in the gut and one in the mind, which is a far more difficult enemy. I DO appreciate the words of encouragement, but when you have this kind of shit, one would prefer honesty over reassurance. Empathy over sympathy. I believe and I know that you have nothing but good intentions when you tell me, "It's gonna be OK" and "I'm just here when you need help". But "I'm sorry that you're going through this" and "How are you? Let's go out for milkshake when you're feeling better" have been the most kind and most necessary words I've heard. Also, as a friend, I free you from the responsibility of trying to cheer me up when depression kicks in. I'm happy when I'm happy. When I'm sad, just give me permission to be sad and probably let me bawl my eyes out without judgement. I promise it's a just a few minutes, and you'll be rewarded with the sight of my ugly-cry face when it's over, then we could probably have a good, awkward laugh at it.

Right now I feel perfectly fine. But my anxiety, and that elevated tumor marker, is telling me that the worst is yet to come and that I'd be a more difficult person to deal with. I'm still me: just more honest with myself and probably a bit more high-maintenance. I'm afraid that some people have given up on me once they've discovered the ugly stuff that comes with friendship. And I'm surprised by those who actually reached out and stuck with me at my worst moments. Thank you, you. You're all awesome. I love you.

I may still have years or decades or months, but I have already decided to live the rest of my days at peace with myself and with the world, even if it's a challenging time to live in.

Read more »

Finding DIRI.

Hello blog. It's been a while.

It's been two and half years to be exact and I've got so much to write about but for now, I just want to pick up where I left.

In case you haven't caught up, the last few entries of this blog have been about my exploration of the Enochian magical system. After a series of missteps and experimentation, I eventually got to that part where I finally get to open the gates of the Watchtowers, visit fantastic and creepy worlds, have tea-time with weird inter-dimensional beings and nudge them for life-changing information.

You know about those rumours going around in occult circles about Enochian magic being so powerful that it could bring about apocalyptic change? I don't know if there's substantial evidence for that but I have come to believe that it did change my life quite a lot.

Like, big fucking time.

I admit I was beginning to get bored with the visions and cryptic messages. Enochian magic is quite unlike any magical system I have practiced before where the results are more tangible, and sometimes almost immediate. But I guess you won't appreciate the value of practicing hours-long magic rituals just to receive messages from the "other side" until you discover that there's virtually a ticking time-bomb inside your own body.

I got hit so hard that I have had episodes of anxiety and depression like the sort of thing I couldn't have imagined I would get. But then I guess that's just the way humanity's programming works. We live our lives happily blind with illusions of immortality until we see the face of death on that radiographic film. Now the thought of it has been following me incessantly, like mosquitoes buzzing above your head on summer evenings.

Yoga and meditation could have helped, sure, but even doing those are impossible when you aren't even able to forward-fold or are experiencing random excruciating pain every now and then. Eventually I had to quit my daily asana practice - among a lot of other things that I care for. So the past several months felt like a wild scramble. Like I was thrown off from a plane and into a strange new place and I'd been trying to find my way back.

Truncated pyramid of DIRI, servient angel of the Watchtower of Air.

All that scrambling, however, eventually got tiresome. So I told myself to just fuck it all and explore this new territory. I'm a traveler after all.

So here I am, thankfully feeling a lot better than I was, living day by day with the help of medicine and holding on to what little support I have. It feels like clinging on rickety flotsam rafts on a stormy sea, but it's a lot better than drowning,

Now I've got unfinished business to attend to and worlds to explore. So I think it's about time to roll up my sleeves, grab that wand, and open the gates once more.

Read more »

Remembering Pol

Me on a willow tree. Photo taken by Pol.

Yesterday I went to a gathering of the local pagan community to commemorate the life of our dear friend Pol, and last night, I had a dream of him.

It was actually more of a memory. It was late December 2009 and we were in the gardens of the University of the Philippines. He was picking branches and I was picking leaves from a tree which he believes to be a specie of willow. He said he was going to scrape the bark off the branch, embellish it, and turn it into a wand. Pol was pretty good in those things. He has a set of runes which he carved by himself and charged with his own blood. He makes corn dollies and weaves perfect Brighid's crosses from palm leaves. He asked me why I was only picking the leaves. I said that I was only good at herb magic, I really couldn't make fine wands out of branches. To which he promptly replied: "Kaya mo yan, ikaw pa".

And I realized I actually could.

So I taught myself how to sandpaper wood, and paint on wood, and apply finishing on wood. And soon I was making my own pentacles, hex signs, wands, cups, and magic tables. I made a complete set of high magic tools out of school supplies. I would never have thought I would be able to do these things - I have always sucked and failed at craft projects in school. But now, suddenly, I'm an artist.

Pol teasingly calls me "master", but the truth is, I think I have learned more important things from him:

• Don't define yourself by your limits. 
• Don't just accept things as they are. 
• You can make the change if you want to.

Yes, these are all clichés. We hear them all the time that our minds have become numb from them. But these are powerful truths, and people tend to forget them. That is why the majority of society today lives a lazy, consumerist lifestyle.

Here's another cliché: we have the ability to change things for our own good, and for others.

• Whether it's a piece of wood that you want to make into a magic wand.
• Whether it's a foreign spirtual practice that you want to adapt to the local culture and to your lifestyle.
• Whether it's how society treats women and the LGBT community.

I'm happy to have had a friend like Pol to remind me of this "ability". This "power to change things". I don't know if there's a proper English word for it, so I'll just call it "magic". People have stopped believing in magic.

Thank you Pol for helping me find my magic.

(I have chosen not to include a photo of the deceased out of respect for him and of his family.)

Read more »

On New Year's Resolutions

So, it's December again. What the heck?

I was almost tempted to write that old cliché about time flying so fast. But of course, we all know that unless you travel to another part of space with a significant amount of gravitational time dilation (thank you, Interstellar), time remains the same. It is this adult life that has gotten so fast - we want to do a lot, own a lot, achieve a lot, that even humanity's longer lifespan isn't enough for us now. What am I babbling about? I don't know. Maybe I'll just talk about resolutions.

Many people have given up on making new year's resolutions complaining that they don't work anyway. The problem is that people look at it like a Christmas wish list. The key is in the word itself: resolve. People write about getting fit or learning a new skill, then spends a huge chunk of their free time watching TV marathons and playing Clash of Clans.  A familiar scenario: "New Year, New Me!" the Facebook status says on January, then does the same old shit during the rest of the year. I find that the culprit are two powerful demons of the modern age: Laziness and the Comfort Zone. I, too, fall into their traps a couple of times but I try my best to fight.

Writing resolutions has worked for me to a large degree. It is the first thing that I write on every yearly planner that I get, on that blank page just after the cover. My planner is the first thing that I look at as soon as I sit by my work station. It is my diary, magical journal, travel log, fitness tracker, personal finance ledger, sketchbook, and it also serves as an almost daily reminder of my self-promises. I guess you can say, my planner is actually some sort of a talisman.

My list primarily consists of changes in habits and skills that I want to learn or improve. I never write down any planned purchases - they're on a separate list as they tend to change a lot.

(As an example of my consumerist fickleness, one time I walked into a hardware store to buy some screws, saw a steam-powered mop, decided right there and then that I needed it in my life, bought the thing off the shelf, and as soon as my credit card was swiped, I began to wonder what the hell I just bought.)

I make sure that my resolutions are realistic, challenging enough to promote positive change, but not impossible achieve. I divide the list into two groups: things I want to let go and things I want to gain. It makes it easier to remember and, in case I need to use a little magic, easier to tell whether I should banish or invoke.

Anyway, here's a snapshot of what I had for 2014. I had to cut off some parts because they are too personal, and too melodramatic for this post. I may not have been able to get everything down to a tee, but I believe - and I feel - that I did fare better this year at trying to improve myself.

Read more »

Paper Mage

The older I grow as a magician, the less I'm interested in owning stuff. I have been giving away a number of my books and magical items keeping only those things that I actually put into use. I now own less than I have five years ago, and sometimes I feel I still have too much.

I give. I don't sell. I don't think I would gain much profit or satisfaction from selling my old stuff anyway. I think giving (or doing an act of kindness for that matter) without expectation of return is an exercise that every human being should do. Own, own, own. Grab, grab, grab. This materialistic, consumerist, cosmopolitan way of life gets very tiring easily.

Trees get to be pruned, snakes shed their skin, people must undergo some kind of death in order to evolve and to grow. Yes, there is a pang of regret when I give away the books that have helped me in my journey. But it is a nice kind of pain. Like getting into a hot bath.

These days I perform ceremonial magic from pieces of cardboard in a shoe box and make talismans from scrap paper. I may have gotten cheaper, but I feel more magic than before.

Enochian temple in a shoe box.

Read more »

I'm back. (I hope.)

Last year, I worked a spell to overcome my internet addiction, and while it did wonders on the quality of my life - having had less screen time and more real time - it sort of backfired at me: my personal emails have become a spammy mess and my blog has been catatonic.

 I also discovered Instagram, which has become sort of my mini-blog, and which is why you shall see more of these grainy photos from now on since it's a lot easier to carry a phone than a big-ass SLR camera.

Some friends also began to think that I had decidedly become a 'cowan' and left the magical life entirely. LOL. Silly friends. I am magic.

The local occult/pagan community seems to have quieted down anyways so there are quite a few events to write about. Most of the people's interests these days are leaning towards New Age and/or 'psychic' stuff that I really couldn't care about.

As for me, I'm still going strong with my (almost) daily asana-pranayama-meditation routine which I started a year ago. But since this year started, I haven't been personally celebrating any pagan feasts even though I'm still a member of the Arn nDraiocht Fein and have yet no intention to leave. I have gotten a bit lazy on Brighid's feast day, and Spring Equinox just doesn't make sense to me. I'm not particularly keen on celebrating the coming High Days either. I still keep and maintain an altar to the orishas but my cultus to the Lord of Iron has come to a hold. So there, I'm currently in pagan-practice limbo. It's as if I suddenly got tired of following established pagan traditions. I've become so lazy that I even had to 'hire' a friend to offer to the gods for me. Still, I'm a happy plain vanilla pagan.

Oh yeah. I'm going back to Enochian magic, which will be sort of a challenge since I have given all my high magic implements away. But then, beginning from scratch also has its merits. I think I've become wiser and more experienced now to handle the Work™, and the mental and physical training I have undergone through I believe is enough to protect me from the ill-effects it may bring about. Enochian for me is an adventurer's magic - it's scary yet fulfilling.

Shit. It's been three years since I last used this. How do you switch this thing on?

This is the first post for 2014, I'm really hoping there will be much more to come this year. Meanwhile, time to work on those drafts, or maybe I'll just post some of my vacation photos for now.

Read more »

How I Survive as a Highly Sensitive Person in Chaotic Manila

I am a very introverted Highly Sensitive Person (HSP). Note the caps. I'm not talking about merely being touchy or over-emotional, I'm talking about certain people who are actually biologically rigged to feel and react more strongly to sensory stimuli than the average population. A leisurely Googling brought me to discover about this fairly new physiological study, and it was very comforting to know that there's finally something to describe this "condition". I hope knowledge about HSP's would spread farther and wider so that family, friends, and bosses would understand that people like us aren't simply overacting.

Among the quirks of being an HSP is that crowds make us very uncomfortable. All that depression, anxiety, anger and various shit that many everyday people are carrying - easily gets into our skin. That's why it seemed like a joke of the universe that I had to be born in the world's most densely populated city and live among the world's most emotional people.

It is not all pain and suffering though. Being an HSP for me is more a boon than a curse. Creativity, curiosity, spirituality, and a rich inner life are just few of the perks of being an HSP. Art and music and all things beautiful excite me, therefore I search for and surround myself with them. Regardless of what the cynics say, there's still much beauty in this world, and yes, even in suffocatingly crowded Manila, if one knows where to look.

A quiet afternoon in General Luna street.

1. Portable Music Players. I've had them since the early 90's - from my no-name cassette player in high school to the 160gig iPod with noise-cancelling earphones shoved into my ears right now. I never leave the house without it and it's become virtually a part of my physical body. It's a miracle I haven't got any hearing problems yet since I often listen at maximum volumes. Whether I'm in a rush-hour commute or drowned in the noise of the corporate office, the music in my ears instantly transports me to another, more pleasant world.

Bakasana. Getting there.

2. Exercise. I consider exercise more as a way of life rather than merely a solution to fix something on the body. The benefits extend way beyond looking better physically, it also helps a lot to feeling better mentally, emotionally and spiritually. This year I have learned to leave the confines of the gym and took my exercise to the swimming pool, the running track, the yoga studio and the boxing ring and it has actually become more than a lifestyle, but a passion. Strength training improves my endurance, which serves as a layer of protection against strong, unpleasant physical stimuli. Yoga, though I'm hesitant to categorize it as "exercise", is specially quite valuable in helping me learn how to temporarily tune down my hypersenses, or at least my reaction to stimuli.

My meditation-friendly bedroom when I was living in Alabang.

3. Reprogramming the mind. Being hypersensitive means being easily annoyed, rattled, ashamed or depressed, and when I am in any of these states I would often come up with irrational thoughts that do more harm to myself and to other people. While I was reading a book on the train, there was a guy who kept popping his bubble gum throughout the half-hour commute, the sound was so annoying and I could still hear it even with my iPod on at maximum volume. I was getting so riled up that I began having evil thoughts like "accidentally" stepping on his foot on the way out. I'm training my mind to raise an alarm bell whenever thoughts like these come up, and try to counteract it with the voice of reason: "This guy isn't deliberately trying to annoy me", "If you had bubble gum right now you'd be popping it too". Changing how your mind reacts can be quite difficult - like potty-training a kitty. I find that it's a lot easier when I heave a deep breath and try put to on a smile however fake it is. Eventually the devils in my mind would be banished anyway and I end up genuinely smiling at myself.

Having coffee like an ilustrado at Barbara's Café.

4. Cafés. I avoid Starbucks as much as I could. Although there are a few exceptions, they tend to be so crowded and tend to have a loud-mouthed group of friends who would spoil your introspective Nescafé moments. Those quaint, lesser-known street-side cafés are more to my liking. I would rather go for a teh tarik and a kaya toast in Kopi Roti, or a banana-split in that old ice cream parlor in Escolta which exudes a pleasant, American-era vibe. An Illy cafe inside a bookstore branch is my favorite art spot. When reviewing for the French exams, I tend to hangout in the coffee shops near schools and find myself surrounded with young people solemnly reading their textbooks. On weekends, even popular cafés and tea joints in the business districts become cozy sanctuaries due to the absence of the working folk.

Serene and a bit creepy. San Agustin museum.

5. Museums. A silent place filled with art and history, it's an obvious choice for an HSP to run to when escaping from the city's madness. Ayala Museum updates their exhibits from time to time, and a walk inside the San Agustin museum is not to be missed. Unfortunately, museums in Manila are quite few and far between - just like nature parks, which HSPs sorely need. 

Crêpe Flambée au Grand Marnier, by Monsieur Gigi at the Salcedo Market.

6. Weekend Markets. Yes, there are crowds but they are not (usually) the unpleasant types. While I try to hold myself from buying every shiny trinket that I see, I wallow in the festive air and savor my excitement to explore these interesting curiosities around me. Fortunately we have a growing number of them, from the posh Salcedo market to the artsy and bohemian Escolta market.

Riding a calesa in Intramuros.

7. Explore, explore, explore. Manila has the biggest malls in the world because Manileños are such mall rats. But spending my weekends aimlessly strolling at malls just make my weekend feel so un-special. Besides I have already been spending the rest of the week in a crowded, soulless, concrete box. I would rather be walking (or running) on the streets, learning in a classroom, attending a workshop, watching a play, doing sports, trying out a new resto, having coffee in a quaint little corner, or just simply trying to discover new places and new things to do. Don't listen to what the SM commercials say - "We've got it all for you!" my ass. There is a huge world outside the malls waiting to be explored.

Learning about Manila from Carlos Celdran at La Monja Loca.

8. More people can be fun too. Not all crowds are bad. Living in a city with a population of more than a million offers lots of opportunities to meet interesting characters. Widening my tiny social circle is one thing I would no doubt find challenging but the prospect makes me excited as well. Though I'm not quite ready yet hitting up a conversation with a stranger, I'm opening myself up more and have promised myself not to try scrambling away whenever a stranger in the café, yoga studio or gym initiates a casual chit-chat. Besides, I'm in my 30's. I'm already too freaking old to by shy.

Read more »

Om Sweet Om

February 2013. It was a very hectic Friday at work just like the days and weeks before. I was taking an afternoon walk during my break to shake off the stress when I remembered a friend's suggestion to try yoga. I've always been interested in it but I was always coming up with a thousand excuses to put off actually going to a yoga class: I'm not flexible, it's expensive, there's no yoga studio nearby, I'd rather play Starcraft, etc. But then I was getting fed up of the monotony of my daily routine that I was quite ready to jump into something new. After some quick Googling on my phone, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that there's a new studio that's just opened near my office (Bliss Yoga). Incidentally the place was just a few steps from where I was taking a walk at that time so I immediately decided to drop by. I was even more delighted to find that they were offering free classes that week as a promo to attract new people in the area. It's as if the stars conspire that day to finally get my ass to a yoga class.

I remember how difficult it was walking into the class for the first time - especially since I was alone, no friends to secretly giggle at each other with. It was Sunday morning. Seeing these fresh, lithe, beautiful creatures in really nice yoga outfits got me all the more intimidated, out of place, and feeling awkward. I was already tense and my mind was racing before the class even started.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

The teacher came in and after a short introduction we were asked to stand up and do the yoga poses. This is it. Not knowing the names of the poses I just tried to manage what I could to mimic what the people around me were doing . The teacher kept telling us to focus on what I mistakenly heard as the "vagina breath" or something, which really didn't matter as I could only manage to huff and puff all along. Why is this making me feel so stressed? Isn't it supposed to do the opposite? It was almost an hour and a half of painful exertion, awkwardness, and feelings of stupidity. I kept glancing at the clock on my cellphone anticipating the end of the class, but time, like a mocking devil, was running painfully, teasingly slow.

And then, after what seemed like eternity, the class was finally coming to a close and we were asked to lie down. Just lie down, and close our eyes. Like a corpse. Shavasana - that's what the pose is called. It was the first Sanskrit asana name that I learned. I was simply anticipating to rest my limbs, until the teacher said the words: "let go" - and that was when the magic happened.

Let go. And I realized how tired I was of being so conscious of myself. How tired I was from trying to look good to others and trying to fit in. How tired I was from over-thinking and how I hate my brain for coming up with those irrational thoughts of anxiety, fear, and envy. It was not merely the poses I'm really grappling with, it was me. It was a trick. The poses were just tools. The problem was my mind more than my tight hamstrings. I was finally getting the idea of what it was all about. Coming into this realization brought a little smile in my face as I lay there splayed like a drunken Buddha. I finally let go. And the breath that followed was no longer a strained attempt to catch my breath, but a breath of relief, accomplishment, and gentle, calming bliss.

It was love at first sigh.

Padmasana

Read more »

Decluttering

"The joy of life consists in the exercise of one's energies, continual growth, constant change, the enjoyment of every new experience. To stop means simply to die. 

The eternal mistake of mankind is to set up an attainable ideal." 

- Aleister Crowley

During the past three months I have thrown and given away enough stuff that could fill a mini-van.

Stuff that I used to own: exercise equipments, furniture, catholic statues, magical tools, old clothes, bags, four pairs of shoes, tons of books, dozens of CDs/DVDs, a desktop computer set, and other knick-knacks from inside my room. I have also cancelled club memberships and credit cards and I'm not even done yet.

The past few years have all been same-ish to me and every time I come up with a new year's resolution I'm always wishing to have a Big Positive Change™ in my life - that is, while I'm still mustering enough courage and fortune to quit my job and live my dream to travel to places.

I realized change wasn't happening because I was holding too much on stuff. And I began to feel how my life is full of so much needless clutter. These things in my room, they aren't really me anymore. To Hel with you, things, I'm not going to let you define me no longer. So good riddance.

Some stuff were very easy to dispose of, but a few required moments of pondering before going into the garbage bag. Interesting how throwing trash can be an introspective and enlightening activity.

Do I really need this? Why am I keeping this? What, so I could use this in the future? Will I let that future happen? No, I don't think I want that kind of me anymore.

Once I got rid of material stuff, I felt like I just freed up something inside me. It kind of feels refreshing.

Much of what I own now are things I have chosen to be important to me, and there's finally space for something new. Somehow, I'm already hearing that Big Positive Change™ coming this way.

Kali Durga, great spirits of change. Beltane 2011

Read more »

I Can Finally Swim!

Our P.E. class in second year college was swimming, which I never attended at all. I was afraid of the water - I did not know how to swim - and I was very uncomfortable with the idea of having to wear skimpy trunks in a public pool. My non-attendance cost me a slot in the dean's list, but meh, I thought, better that than die of drowning or humiliation.

Every time my friends or co-workers go out on a swimming excursion I end up wading in the shallow parts of the pool while being totally envious of those who were frolicking freely in the water. I got sick of it.

Almost spontaneously, I dragged my ass one weekend to enroll in Bert Lozada Swimming School.  My first challenge was actually wearing a pair of tight-fitting Speedos. Actually learning how to swim was another matter entirely though. I found that it was harder than I expected thanks to my aquaphobia. By the end of ten weekly sessions I only got to learn how to float and to swim like a drowning cat.

Philippine Columbian Association

FQS, EVF, SPL, ape index, stroke rate.. I had no idea swimming could be so technical! 

I just wanted to reach the other end of the pool. 

I wasn't content so I decided to take it further. I enrolled in Aqualogic, which is reputedly a top-notch swim school. The price, though, is quite top-notch as well, being more than double than what I paid at Lozada's. But every centavo was worth it for me. I had really awesome coaches. At the end of the lessons, and after a several practices at public pools on weekends, not only was I finally able to swim, but I was immensely enjoying it too! The orgasmic joy I had after finishing my first 25 meter lap over 10 feet deep water was priceless.

So swimming is the first sport that I actually learned and I can't believe how I love the water now, though I still have a long way to go to become really good at it. My skin has gotten darker and my butt is now whiter than the rest of my body but I'm actually liking my new color - it means I'm going out more often now and spending less time living vicariously through the computer.

Pool surfing

Read more »

Finding Fairies

The sea-serpent Bakunawa rises from the sea. 

Ink and colored pencil on Moleskine.

A block away from our house, there used to be an abandoned lot overgrown with grasses and bushes where there was a small hollow mound of shrubs that I could fit just right into. As a little kid, it was my secret sanctuary where I spend the early afternoons before my mother comes out to call me home for my siesta.

I believed my little sanctuary was a doorway between the magic fairy kingdom and our world. I never saw the fairies, but I knew they were there, protecting me from the evil monster (that stray mongrel that roams the bushes) and watching over me while I have my moments of sweet, silent, childhood happiness.

There is a garment factory standing over there now. And I now spend most of my waking hours in an office building - drowned in the electronic buzzes and drones of corporate machines, the bleep-bleep of telephones, the clackety-clack of keyboards, the voices of people around me muttering obscure business language.

The world seemed to become smaller as I grew older, and magic fairy mounds gradually got lost to concrete, glass and steel. It's the sad way of these times.

But once in a while, just when you get absorbed in the mechanical lifestyle, nature gives you those things: a butterfly fluttering happily through the rush hour traffic, a flower falling on you from a tree while you're waiting for the bus, a beautiful stray cat approaching you as you rest your legs by the sidewalk, a rare pink and yellow sunset that just commands attention through the double-glazed office windows.

Insignificant things, many a city dweller would think. But they make a "silly" pagan like me smile in silent delight and wonder. It's the kind of wondrous joy that slaps me back to my senses: 

Hey idiot, stop fussing about little stuff. You're so much bigger than that.

The fairies have not gone. The magic of this world is not lost to those who see with pagan eyes.

Read more »

On Saturday Afternoons

One of my favorite hangout spots is that branch of Bo's Café inside the Powerbooks store in Greenbelt 4. Surrounded by books and the smell of coffee, it becomes my own little slice of paradise on many Saturday afternoons.

With a book on one hand and a warm porcelain mug on the other - that, or an oatmeal cookie - I let myself get lost into my inner worlds for many hours as I cozily sit on the wooden chair. (When I'm lucky, I get the sofa). 

On some occasions I would bring my notebook and a pencil to leisurely work on some artful sketches. I'm not very good in drawing, but nonetheless I find a special joy in it - as I always had since I was a wee little toddler. I think everybody loved making art when they were little, most people just forget about it as they grow older.

Once in awhile I would take a pause from reading or drawing to get absorbed into a particularly goosebumpy song playing on my iPod. Visual art and literature should always go together with music I believe, just as there should always be biscuits with your afternoon tea.

By late afternoon, that magical hour arrives when the golden rays of the sun glaringly shine through the glass panes of the café. My fellow coffee-lovers would then move their chairs to scurry away from the heat. I, however, enjoy the warmth on my skin, contrasting with the artificial coldness of the air inside the mall.

In these times where I spend most of my late afternoons in the prison of air-conditioned buildings, walled from the outside world by tinted glass and plastic curtains, to see and feel the sunset again is a most welcomed boon.

Basbasan Nawa!

Read more »

New Year's Un-resolution

I want to unwant some things from this year on.

I'm tired of searching for that pot of gold; I'll just happily wallow in the colors of the rainbow.

I'm not wishing for an undo button in life. I'm happy with my past as it is. It may not be much to look at, but it's mine.

I do not wish to become like the people I see day by day: sauntering through life like a donkey with a dangling carrot, or galloping through it like a raging bull.

The Buddha probably nailed it right about desire being the cause of our daily suffering.

But not desiring anything at all would be not living at all. For now I'm happier as a taxpayer than an ascetic living in the mountains, thank you.

I could at least however streamline my wanting. Quality over quantity.

"What's important?"

Simple question. But before I answer that, I would have to get my head off the clouds and look at my life as it is. What do I need? And what do I want? Really?

No "basbasan nawa" for now. I have all the blessings that I need coming from me. :)

Read more »

Welcome to My New Elemental Blog

The four elements

It's simpler, sleeker, and the best thing of all - the photos are bigger. Now it is easier to skip my prattle and just look at the photos - sometimes they tell the stories much better than my writing.

Also, one of the more important changes is that the categories have been streamlined and divided into four themes corresponding to the elements. Fire for matters of the spirit, Air for the study of magic, Earth for mundane pursuits of pleasure and Water for my emo-moments. Not only does it make my posts easier to classify but with this I might be able to see which of my four elements - body, mind, spirit and emotion - has been taking too much a big slice of the elemental cake. This is, after all, primarily a personal journal.

Have I been too busy pursuing materialistic happiness rather than spiritual contentment? Or have I been too focused on spirituality that I am no longer able to see the mundane realities?

Have I been too focused on scholarly studies that I have become an unfeeling intellect? Or have I been letting my emotions throw logic out of the window and fully take control of my actions?

Aggripa's pentagram man

It shows that the four elements can actually be a useful guidepost for living and not just esoteric stuff that Wiccans enumerate as points on the pentacle.

Thank you for your interest and time in visiting my blog. Whether we know each other or not, whether you are Pagan or not, whether you agree, disagree or do not give a hoot on what I write - I send you my blessings.

Basbasan Nawa!

Read more »

Before Blogging was Invented

I just got a very nice reward for cleaning my own room. I found my old journal from 15 years ago - written entirely in French. Ok, not entirely. The proper names are encoded in Cyrillic.

Even though my French has gotten a bit rusty now, I could see some grammatical errors. But wow, even now I couldn't believe at myself (yet feeling smug at the same time) for recording an entire school year of my life in a foreign language. It's really strange and interesting - and sometimes embarrassing - to read about what happened in your life more than a decade ago, even the seemingly insignificant events: my thoughts as I had my first taste of Dairy Queen's Blizzard, the happiest moments with friends I am no longer seeing now, my three consecutive strikes in duckpin bowling, the loneliest moments of college life and those times when I just sit in a corner of the canteen listening to my cassette tapes. I found myself sighing and cringing and giggling all at the same time. Here I am,  looking at me when I was yet so clueless with the world.

Oh, c'est la vie.

Read more »

Something Is A-Brewing...

What's wonderful about keeping a blog is that not only do you save memories, you can also keep track of yourself.

While I read back through my blog, wincing and cringing from from self-embarrassment from some of the old posts, I realize that I am almost no longer the same person who have written those posts anymore. -- I changed. Which is a good thing. Probably.

But I guess that is to be expected. Being Pagan and all. And this being my fourth personal website already.

And so the blog must change as well. I am thinking of rewriting some of the old posts while some, I shall readily dispose - like something nasty I left in the living room while I was drunk. Here's hoping that my writing be more practical, less romanticized, and more true to myself.

Besides, this blog is so due for a makeover.

Read more »

Kanji Adventure

Today I have officially memorized 500 kanji.

Since the beginning of June, I've been (re-)memorizing one hundred kanji per week using the Heisig method. By October I hope to be able to recognize the meaning of every Joyo kanji I encounter upon. After that will I only begin to actually study how to 'pronounce' them.

I even got no plans of (re-)learning Nihongo grammar just yet. My goal this year is simply just to be able to read aloud written Japanese.

Still got 1,542 more to go. Ganbarimasu!

ファイト!!

Read more »

My Birthday Me-Day

I remember my childhood and teen years as a very long episode in my life. And I remember them quite vividly: the street games, the aratiles tree, the scary old neighbor, and especially the "Broom-Of-Doom" my mother used to hit my butt with after some misbehaving.

The communication boom happened during my late college years and after that, life just kept on getting faster and faster, shorter and shorter, and the memories of the years that followed became hazier. We, urban people, now spend a huge part of our waking hours looking at screens - cellphone screens, computer screens, TV screens - and when we look at the real world, we are not really seeing it - we are too busy thinking about something else. The ease of communication made us use more of our time and attention to and for others. By the time I place my full attention back to myself, I realize I'm 31 years old.

Out on a whim, I decided that I would have some time off from the cookie-cutter lifestyle and just experience life as I wanted it (considering the time and budget of course). This means backpacking around the city and going to wherever my curiosity leads me. I only had the weekend and a 2-day office leave for it, and I wanted to experience it to the full. And the only way to do that was to ditch the cellphone. It's astonishing how hard it was to depart from this little object, considering that I have lived more than 21 years of my life without having one.

The mini-adventure was difficult and lonely at first but I was really enjoying it after a while. I ended up having too many pictures of food since I really didn't want to take out my camera as much as possible when I was travelling. But I had a notebook where I would write down things that I learned from my journeys. I spent the first day walking around visiting memorable places; and the rest of the days for self-pampering and meditation. A few hours were spent just sitting in restaurants. I couldn't help myself from observing the people in the streets walking by, wondering where they were going, what they were thinking, and how they're living their lives. And sometimes I would look at the surroundings: the trees, the buildings, the birds and the sky, until everything and everyone would seem like tiny electrons, going around and bumping each other occasionally, in this molecule called Earth.

The Earth and  the stars seem no different from the people in the streets: however we'd like to believe that we were born with free will, everyone is ultimately helpless against all these going to-and-fro. It is the nature of nature: everything must move and change, or else will cease to exist. In the early days of my life as Christian, I just watched the eternal dance of Nature. Now as Pagan, I must learn the steps myself.

Mabon: The point of celebrating Sabbats is change. But this time I wanted a bigger change, so I downloaded some life audit questionnaire to guide me through. It may seem a bit too Oprah, but this was really helpful and made me think hard. The cards were there to help me for some of the vaguer questions. There were no ceremonies in this ritual; just a heart-to-heart talk with Me. And there is no New Agey "just think positive and everything will be better" here. It's all about looking at life as it really is. It is tough to know yourself, but when you do succeed, it's like meeting an old friend again.

Book and breakfast at Fully Booked: The only non-consumable thing that I bought for myself was this compilation of Taoist classics translated by Thomas Cleary. What I really wanted here was a printed copy of the Chuang Tzu, and a decent translation of the Wen Tzu . The Tao Te Ching and the other two works are an added bonus.

Basbasan Nawa!

Read more »

My Mini Magical Library

My six-foot bookshelf has arrived. I can finally clear my bed, shoe cabinet, underwear drawer, top of the fridge, window sill, and computer table of out-of-place books.

I can feel the ch'i flowing better now. Om...

Apparently even a six-foot bookshelf isn't enough to contain my books. But still I'm very glad to see some of my tomes finally prepped and organized.

Basbasan Nawa!

Read more »