Repeat after me - Constipation

One thing about being an unpaid blogger is, I can say anything I want. In this blog I've talked about facial hair, menopause and water retention so many times already. Today, the word is constipation. You can chuckle or cringe, just don't act surprise.

The other day I went to a walk-in clinic to renew a prescription for my high blood pressure. I asked the doctor to change what I had because it makes me constipated (yes), and he said to eat a banana. I told him I don't eat bananas because it makes me constipated (yes, again). He says, "bananas make Americans constipated but not Asians." (I'm serious that's what he said.) By the way, the doctor is Asian with an accent so bad, he might as well be speaking in Chinese. I insisted bananas are not friendly to me, so he said, "ok, eat apples." I told him, I don't do fruits either. He said I better "be nice to fruits" otherwise, I will be cranky all the time, because that's what constipation does to you. I wanted to tell him I'm always cranky even when I'm regular, but I didn't, because I was afraid he would give me another diagnosis and prescribe me another medication that would make me constipated. Again.

I read that constipation is the cause of most of our physical problems. Of course that's understandable from a simple explanation that anything doctors considered a "waste" in your body, should not be there. As you're reading this, grab a fruit or a banana (if it works for you)and try to remember: in any context, the word "regular" is good. When you're constipated, you're carrying something extra, and anything extra besides money is not good.

Life Is Not a Drill (says who)

I am one of those people who live life as though I'm rehearsing for the real thing. Like life is a drill, to live and to enjoy tomorrow or next year, not today. Everyday, I have to pull myself out of the "stinking thinking" mode and tell myself that life is not a drill.

We all have this distorted view of life; we seem to hold off enjoying life until the kids are grown, until we pay off our credit cards, if only I'm married, if only I'm not married ( to this jerk). Until my book is published, I can't....(fill in the blanks). We use all kinds of excuses, and not even know these are excuses, excuses disabling us to not enjoy the present.

The other day at lunch with my writer friends, one of them whose husband died four years ago said something profound. She said, "I have been living my life without Bill, now I need to simply live my life." What she said didn't register right away, only now do I understand what she meant. We need to stop idealizing life, life is what it is. Life is here and now and in order for it to be truly colorful, black days are a must.
I ask myself why it is so hard to enjoy the present, why do we have to be sedated so we can laugh during the black days? I'm not sure of the answer, but here's what I've resolved to do: Starting today, I'm going to proceed and try to enjoy life, even if all I have published so far is my phone number.

Live while I'm Alive

It's my life and it's now or never....

Video Courtesy: WABasketball08 -THANKS

Just to let you know

I met with an agent the other day and I came home rattled because of the direction he wants me to go with my book. Of course, he is not an editor, so he was not the final say-so. I appreciated his forthright advise and after talking to my editor friend, things are clearer in my head again.

A writer friend of mine, would sign her emails to me with the acronym BICHOK-"Butt In Chair Hands On Keyboard." Meaning, ideas in the head are nothing, if it's not put down on paper, and the only way to do that is to keep my butt in the chair and writing. I understand this, but another good friend is in the hospital since Saturday, so, everyday I am there and like right now, I am in a hurry writing this so I can go.

I have disciplined myself and as a matter of obligation to my readers, I try to post twice a week. Regardless that the posts are sometimes goofy and useless, at least you'll have something to read when you open my blog, but with writing the book and going to the hospital, which seems to have become the pattern of my life lately, I apologize to all of you. Promise, I will make it up to ya'll and acknowledge ya'll in my book. Should I put LOL here?

Missing Freddie

I love Roger, Brian and John, but I am especially missing Freddie. And it tickles me pink to watch any artist at work. Like this.

Video Courtesy: FreddieM85 THANKS

Salvation

When you hear Christians talk about "salvation," here's what they mean: All of us were born in sin, meaning, we all fall short of the glory of God because none of us is righteous, we're all "filthy rags" as the bible puts it. So in order for us to be reconciled back to God, we need a "savior" and there's only One that God would accept, and that is Jesus, who sacrificed for us on the cross.

Christianity is exclusive but also inclusive; inclusive because anyone and everyone can have salvation if you want it, exclusive because the only way to get to heaven is through Christ. The bible is very clear: For there is One God and one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus. (1 Timothy 2:5) How do we get reconciled back to God? Acknowledge our fallen state, ask for forgiveness and accept Christ as your Lord and Savior.

Here's an excerpt I'd like to share with you, this I read from the book A Deeper Walk:

An enquirer went to a wise hermit who was known as a man of God. "Tell me the way of salvation," he asked. The hermit led him to the river. There he grabbed the inquirer and held his head under the water. The man fought desperately to get free, buth the hermit was strong and held him under. Finally, when he thought his lungs would burst and he had nearly lost all strength, the hermit released him. As the man coughed and gasped for breath, the hermit said, "When you want salvation as much as you wanted air, you will find it."

Yes, you will find it because God is not hiding from us, it's us hiding from Him. When we recognize that we need God more than anything, we will hold on to Him, like He's air to our lungs.

Wine, coffee or cigarette

When I was young, you know, like 79 years ago, I wanted to look cool. (Not that I have quit wanting to look cool) I thought holding a cigarette between your index and middle finger raised up, while the other hand is holding a cup of coffee or wine is just the coolest thing. I tried cigarette, I tried coffee, I tried wine but my palette or my psyche could only accept coffee. All three are not supposed to be good for you, but the medical community says, the last two can be taken in moderation but cigarette should not be taken in any form. Meaning, you can't even hold hands or kiss someone who smells like a camel. With out without filters.

I don't know why coffee is considered not good for you when it's in the same category as taking a shower - it helps you wake up. The jury is still out on the wine, as to its effectiveness on reducing bad cholesterol, because the wine producers still haven't figured out who's the right congressman to put on their payroll as a lobbyist. I'm not sure why doctors are quick to slap you with statins instead of wine for your cholesterol. You'd think that they'd prefer and endorse wine, considering that most doctors I know are wine enthusiast. They're wine experts since med school.

I should really not talk about wine like I know what I'm talking about. In fact, I should be talking about dementia, because I started to write about my writers group and next thing I know, I'm scribbling wine, coffee and cigarette. Oh, I think I just remember why I'm writing about wine. Yesterday, I met with 2 of my writer friends and we were drinking wine starting at 11 a.m. We were raising our glasses four or five times, saying Salute' and bursting into laughter, acting like the Enron whistleblowers after Jeff Skilling and Ken Lay were indicted. We said we'd live in Tuscany or Provence and start drinking wine earlier than 11 a.m., after the film rights to our books are bought by Hollywood, then we burst into laughter again. That was yesterday when the wine was flowing from Teri's wine cellar, right now, I'm thinking: Lord, I'd live anywhere, just not under the bridge.

It Would Have Been Enough

I love the Jewish feasts or holidays - especially the Passover, because of how it points to Jesus. I know, a non-Messianic Jew would look at me cross-eyed, and probably whack my head with a whole chalah bread, but the Messianic Jews know what I'm talking about.

The Passover celebration is a commemoration of the Israelites exodus from Egyptian slavery, when God through Moshe led them to the promised land. There's a moment of this celebration that I really like, because it can apply to all of us non-Jews - it's called the Dayenu, a very joyous song sung loudly, with clapping of hands and stomping of feet. Dayenu is Hebrew for "it would have been enough." Dayenu is recalling the miracles God performed for the Israelites, insisting that after each miracle, if God didn't do any more, all on its own would have been enough: If God simply took them out of Egypt and not carried out judgments against the Egyptian, dayenu!
If God carried out judgments against the Egyptian and not parted the sea, dayenu! If God parted the sea and didn't take them to the promised land, dayenu!

Thinking of my own journey, I've composed my own Dayenu. If God had only chosen to give me life of hardship in the Philippines, and didn't establish me here in America, it would have been enough. If all I was able to write and read was my my name, and not have the pleasure of reading literature and travelling, it would have been enough. If I simply had Chat, without her wit and without her wisdom and sick humor that makes me laugh out loud, it would have been more than enough.

Yes, Dayenu! Let's all start today and look at the miracles and wonders of our life: To begin, the miracle that I can write this blog and the wonder of internet that you're reading it from wherever you are.

It's in the Doing not in the Getting

I have openly admitted of my restlessness, my constant agitation until the "next high" arrives, and my failure to enjoy the moment. But I don't beat myself about it, because I know it is inherent in every man to be not satisfied with or in this world. After Alexander the Great conquered the entire known world in 323, B.C., he was despondent. He sat down and wept because the imagined has become real, the pursuit is now at hand. Forward to 2 thousand years later, remember the "Buzz"? Edwin Aldrin, Jr, one of the first two men to walk on the moon? As a pilot, when the Buzz realized, that there were no greater achievements he could strive for anymore in his lifetime (except landing on the sun without becoming charcoal) he had a nervous breakdown.

There's a medical explanation to this; like the rise in dopamine causes the drop in serotonin,etc., but the angle I'd like to develop is the explanation that Dr. Chris Thurman calls the "scoreboard" mentality, where the effort on the field is considered less important than the final score. The virtue lies in the struggle, not the prize. When you're fighting a weight problem and the number won't come down from 200, the effort to lose weight is your victory. If your marriage is on the brink of destruction in spite of your effort to save it, remind yourself that your struggle to save it, is your victory.

"I tried" should be our greatest statement even before we reach the finish line. The writing process is agonizing, painful and exhilarating at the same time, so I am always in a roller coaster ride of emotional high and lows, but I fight through it day in and day out. Ok, got to run, so let me say this with a straight face: The completed book is not my victory, writing it, is the victory. I tried.

Beloved

I doubt that Lucy said this to Charlie Brown, but I forgot who said this: "If you live to be a 100, I want to live to be a 100 less one day, so I don't have to live a day without you."

Video Courtesy -Rodort2006 -THANKS

You were the love
For certain of my life
You were simply my beloved wife
I don't know for certain
How I'll live my life
Now alone without my beloved wife
My beloved wife

I can't believe
I've lost the very best of me

You were the love
For certain of my life
You were simply my beloved wife
I don't know for certain
How I'll live my life
Now alone without my beloved wife
My beloved wife

I can't believe
I've lost the very best of me

You were the love
For certain of my life
For fifty years simply me beloved wife
With another love I'll never lie again
It's you I can't deny
It's you I can't defy
A depth so deep into my grief
Without my beloved soul
I renounce my life
As my right
Now alone without my beloved wife
My beloved wife
My beloved wife

My love is gone she suffered long
In hours of pain

My love is gone
Now my suffering begins

My love is gone
Would it be wrong if I should
Surrender all the joy in my life
Go with her tonight?

My love is gone she suffered long
In hours of pain

My love is gone
Would it be wrong if I should
Just turn my face away from the light
Go with her tonight?