Any Number will Do

"We know how old Martin was when the Japanese killed him" my uncle said it almost without emotion, "but the rest of us, we don't know our birthdays." My uncle was referring to his siblings. Martin is their oldest brother who was killed by the Japanese during world war II. My mom's name is Valentina , she told us her birthday is on Valentines day. When we asked how old she was she would give us an approximate. No one bothered to question her, because we don't celebrate hers or her kids birthdays anyway. I sure did not remember celebrating my own until I had a job. In the Philippines, the birthday celebrant is expected to treat people to food, unlike in America.
"Money is so tight to just spend it in one day" she would explain. She would inculcate in our heads to be glad just to have food on the table every day.
In our household Christmas and birthdays were just the same as any other day. Last August, I gathered my aunts and uncles (2 aunts, 2 uncles living) and I asked them about their birthdays. All four of them don't know! "How old do you think you are?" I asked in disbelief and amazement. "Well, our parents told us to count 2 years apart from the oldest and 4 years to the youngest one." I said that is fine, "but what year do you start with?" They believed Martin was born in 1911. As we were talking, I was amazed at how unimportant or unsymbolic their birthdays meant to them. Since nothing special is done on anyone's birthday, why care? "So how old was my mom when she died? " All four of them started talking at the same time and giving their best guesses. Their best guess was what they had come to accept. So we figured 80 is about right. She would have been 39 when she had me. I am the youngest of 5 siblings and I came 7 years after the 4th one. They did not expect to have another baby. Make sense why I was called a "precipitate" in the family.
"So how come my mom knew her birthday is on Valentines day?" I pressed on. "It was later in our adult years that we made it up, because her name rhimes with Valentines day." They said matter-of-factly. My grandparents did not believe in them sitting in the shade learning how to read and write when they should be growing food in the field. None of them were born in the hospital and none of them went to school, so that eliminated the need for a birth certificate. They did have a baptismal certificate because every Catholic baby has to be baptized or the witch will snatch the baby away from your house. My grandparents were not church-going people but the long arm of the Catholic law had a chokehold on them.

When I first got married a baptismal certificate was required as I did not have a birth certificate. I went to the church registrar where an old lady flipped through this black book with yellowed pages and edges that looked like it was chewed on by some bugs. She could not find my records so I told her when I was told I was born and when I was baptized. (Catholic baptism) Back then, before computers, a bribe was cheaper. It did not bother me that they could not find my records. I never was one to put a special meaning on birthdays anyway- my parents attitude must have rubbed on me.
But lately, as my 50th birthday is approaching, I ponder. Not pondering because I suddenly think birthdays are special, but because ,I feel turning 50 is. Also, after my sister died at 45, every year after I turned 45, I considered it to be a bonus from God. I used to question my being born at all, but now I am confident that I have a purpose built in me by God. As He told Jeremiah in the Old Testament, "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you." So before they carve my tombstone and inscribe my date of birth and my date of expiration, I want to make sure I fill in the dash. Not with wishes but with accomplishments. And 50 is as good as any number to start with.

Amen Corner and ....

"Some emotions cannot be endured with a golf club in your hand" - a quote from Bobby Jones regarding his temper and club-throwing. I know what he meant because as we were approaching the Amen Corner, (hole 11, 12 and 13) the emotions bubbling up inside me could only be endured with tears, as no words were good enough to justify what I felt.

I feel embarassed by my reaction, but, it was like entering heaven and saying, " I made it, I am saved after all." Almost like a religious experience. And I am not alone in thinking that because the next day when we met with some touring pros from Asia, a guy named Chua expressed the same feelings and observation without me even telling him about my own experience. In 1958, Herbert Warren Wind, a journalist with Sports Illustrated coined the word Amen Corner in search of a perfect name for the location where the critical action was taking place that year. A poetic moment in golf and all a journalist could do is borrow an old jazz recording title "Shouting from Amen Corner" to describe it.

In the early 80's, while still in Manila, my friend NJ and his friend JC would fondly banter about "green jacket, amen corner and tee time." I knew what tee time meant, but did not relate green jacket and amen corner to golf. Augusta,I presumed was another racehorse.

So you can imagine, when 25 years later, my pumas walked the grounds of Augusta, surveyed Amen Corner and the men in green jackets. "When you see men in green jackets, it means they are members of this club." NJ relayed the trivia to me almost in a whisper. And NJ is not one to waste saliva on things that he himself is not impressed with.I noticed a few more "green men" strategically scattered along the course and I watched them almost with a reverential awe.

Those men walked around in that jacket like how the Pope strut in his mitre. That jacket sure did something because there's this man who was square,round and not tall--we would easily call him fat and ugly, were it not for the reverence of the jacket. But watch my lips on this, I will not bend a knee for that Gucci spectacled, Prada footed man in the Vatican regardless how many Roman numerals are added after his name. But I will with both knees for those men in green jacket. Square or round.

I did not appreciate the trees we had in our yard when we lived in a house, because spring means raking in dead leaves and tons of them. I like trees as long as I don't have to clean up after them. And walking around the course were young men in yellow overalls and green cap-you would think they were caddies badly needing attention, but their backs says "Litter". Yes, they were cleaning up after the people..... and the trees. Arranging pine needles.

The most abundant tree at the course is the pine and around 1600 azaleas of about 30 varieties landscaped hole number 13 from tee to green. Each of the holes are adorned with a plant after which it was named . It could not be more appropriate because the course used to be the site for Fruitland Nurseries. Since the course was built and formally opened in 1933, an estimated 80,000 more plants of 350 varieties have been added. I was awestruck at the landscape I did not even notice the Tiger approaching the 11th tee. And just as he was a spit away from me, my camera battery died on me. I cried again.

On my flight back to Dallas I read in the paper about some woman protesting about Augustas' exclusionary policy against women. I understand there are merits to this so-called feminists' movement. But all I am asking is, are we ready to see men waltzing into the womens restrooms and let them use the sink as a urinal, while we are powdering our high noses next to them? Equal opportunity ---I think I am going to cry again.

The Masters

To say I had the best time in Augusta is only half the story. I don't remember why or how I fell in love with golf. As a young girl, part of my house chore was to take our carabao to pasture. It is important that the carabao eats well because it supports the family by plowing the field. I would be perched on its back feeling tall with the wind blowing in my face as it took me to a greener pasture, the Cebu Country Club. We lived next to the only golf course in the island and I would take my carabao there because the grass next to the fairways were always green and abundant. Most days, when I found stray golf balls, (mostly from the Japanese golfers) I would collect them and take them home for my brother to break open and pry out the small bouncing rubber ball inside. We had no use for the golf balls as we didn't have any friends who played golf-we had no rich friends. But we could play with the bouncing little rubber ball.
Fast forward to a few years later, I got a job, moved to Manila and acquired an American boyfriend to boot. Besides drinking, he loved to scuba dive but talks and breath golf most of the time when he was not talking about a "racehorse." Translation : good looking women.
One afternoon he took me to this country club called Wack-Wack, to claim his prize; a thermos bottle. My first time inside a country club so I tried to act like how people act in a country club. Like I'm used to it. It did not feel right --feeling tall even without the carabao?

Twenty five years later, the now ex-boyfriend, ex-golfer, took me inside the grounds of Augusta National for the 2007 Masters. I was overwhelmed with emotions I could not come up with the right words to justify what I felt. I was elated for the experience of being inside, but also, there was this tinge of emotion that was hard to discern. When he put his arm over my shoulder to point my attention to the pine needles neatly raked in to an almost decorative pile, I felt a different surge of emotion. The momentary weight of his arm on my shoulder was comfortable. I felt at home.

It was great watching the pros'- the heralded and the unheralded do the practice rounds . It was fun eavesdropping on peoples conversation too. One woman asked her husband what Tiger Woods babys' name was. He didn't remember, he said. Came to find out, Tigers wife is not even due til July. As we got to our seats at the bleachers, 2 men sat in front of us. I got hungry watching them eating eating an egg salad sandwich and pimiento cheese sandwich. But then the other guy started talking out loud about everything; from his homosexual neighbor to global warming. If they pay him 150k, he would find global warming, he assured his buddy. I did not know you are supposed to find global warming. His annoying subjects turned my hunger into anger, but in that environment I found it hard to really be angry and mean it.

Inside the Augusta National, there was much to savor. My eyes could only look at so much and my heart can only feel so much. I am just now beginning to describe them in my minds eye and gently trying to preserve the pitter- patter in my heart. Gently, least I wake up.

I flew in to Atlanta and drove to Augusta on a rent a car. This whole experience was (for lack of a better word) like a "booster shot" for me. You see, I have always wanted to go to another State outside of Texas and rent a car. To a lot of Americans, that is nothing, but to me that is something more like jumping out of the plane and operating a parachute for the first time. Driving is not the problem, I can drive in any kind of traffic and in any kind of freeways...using a map to direct me was the hurdle. Reality is what you perceive it to be, right? I perceived it to be a big problem. .. but only in my mind, because the whole experience was really a breeze. And this brings home the point that "defeat starts in the mind, of the things we worry about, less than 1% of it really happens".

Even though I booked my car through the web, I had to stop by their counter at the airport to sign some papers. The male clerk, had a wedding ring on, but acted so gay...not gay as in "happy". He kept suggesting that the car I had rented through the web which was a compact, was too small, making a gesture with his fingers like a salt pinch and squinting his eyes at the same time, describing the car as "very small to drive long distance". "GS6 is very nice, sporty" he says this with a gay smile. I don't like sporty, what else is there? He could not come up with any other model but mentions Corolla then taps his head with that gay hand gesture again and apologetically says he needs coffee to remember the other kind of cars they have. Don't under-estimate the power of suggestion; I drove out of there 90 dollars poorer. I got on the shuttle and as we drove in to the lot, I saw the different kinds of car spread across the property. I had to stop by the office to pick up my GPS. Yes, no map. Global Positioning System, that's what I should use, my boyfriend insisted. I am 2 continents away from being a techie, but my boyfriend is. At 12 years old when he was laid up in the hospital for an appendics problem, he got hold of an electronics magazine and a rush of enzymes whispered and burned in his heart the passion that God had placed in him from his mothers womb. Electronics Engineer, is not his title; that is who he is.

Out of the many choices of cars in the lot, I drove out of the lot in a silver GS6-- sporty, yes, but not "middle age crisis" sporty. I asked the exit clerk how the GPS works, she said as soon as I start driving it will start talking to me. But it kept quiet even after I turned the corner from the exit booth. I turned right and had no choice but turn left at the end, then it started talking. It directed me out of the airport complex to the main highway and out into I-20. As I was driving and wondering when the voice would come on next, I realized that driving with a GPS in a totally new environment, is like driving blind while able to see. Or doing something like a robot would. I then understand why God created us with a free will and promised that He would not violate that free will. Not knowing any other way to get to Augusta, I had to follow the voice. When I started, I did not know if I could really trust the GPS, but after the voice in that box got me out of the airport maze and put me on I-20 heading east, I started to let go and let the GPS direct me to 2799 Henry Street in Augusta. During those 2 hours drive, I was listening to the voice of my boyfriend on the cell phone while the female voice of the GPS would come on intermittently. The 2 voices comforted me immensely, but I worried that the battery of my cell and the GPS would die out on me. When I surrendered my will and my life to God 12 years ago, I did not fully trust God either. I don't always hear Gods' voice, and when I do, I still question it, if it is really Him speaking. But one thing I know; on my best day He gives me great joy, on my worst day, He walks me through it. "Turn right and stop at final destination" the female voice echoed again. I have arrived! Both batteries lasted but I know it was neither of the audible voices that got me there.

The Lawyer

He is 65 years old, she is 19. His skin touching yellow, dragging so slow as he walks and with sunken eyes you would think that he is on his death bed were it not that he is sitting up in his office chair talking loud, peppering his speech with bits and pieces of curse words.
" I used to think Angelina Jolie is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, but not anymore, she fell on the wayside compared to my baby in the Philippines" He was not in the least bit interested in talking about my friends legal case. My friend hired this lawyer to defend him, but anytime my friend asked him legal questions, he would dismiss it with a shrug of the shoulder. All he wanted to talk about was this 19 year old girl that he met when he went to the PI three weeks ago.

When my friend hired this lawyer in November, they got to talking about Filipino women. The lawyer got very interested, did not waste time and got on the plane for the Philippines to meet the 2 women that my friend introduced to him through email. I know both of the women, one is 30 years old the other 24. I had not met this lawyer but only heard about him through my friend so when the 2 women asked me about this lawyer, all I said was " see for yourself and pray about it."

One of them is about to become a whirlwind mail order bride. The women are desperate to come to America, the lawyer is desperate for a wife. He is on a liver transplant waiting list. Whoever he would choose between the 2 will be ok, no hurt feelings, my girlfriends told me. He arrived and they met him. The 30 year old was the one who met him first.
"Eeewww, he is gross, and he is very demanding." First email.
"Everybody laughs at us, he is disgusting, I am too sexy for him." Second email.
I tried to be funny in my response, "can you lower your standard a little bit, your age is about to get out of the calendar range," " No way, I will just stay in the Philippines and be an old maid, or I will go to Saudi Arabia, work as a maid." Last email.

I did not hear from her anymore or from the 24 year old. We waited til the lawyer got back and I went with my friend to see him. My friend went to ask some more questions about his case for the coming trial, and I went with him because I am nosy.
My friend was mostly talking to the secretary and making sure things were noted as they should. It was a good idea because the lawyer was sitting there but I really think he was not all there. " I want to show you pictures of my baby, I am in love!" he blared, turning for affirmation from his secretary, " tell them, have you ever heard me say that I am in love in the 26 years you have worked for me? never, right?" His secretary tried to summon the right words, but could not. "Aahh, yes."

My friend and I never really asked the question, who the girl was, we were waiting for him to tell us but my friend could not stand it anymore, he had to ask because neither one of us knew about this new development and our now obviously rejected 24 and 30 year old friends did not tell us about this either. Maybe they were just glad to get him off the island. Not only was he foul mouth and cocky, he makes you think that his money buys him the license to be.

The secretary handed us a lot of pictures of the lawyer and our 2 friends and some other people they were having meals with. I asked which one is his "baby" and the lawyer or the secretary had a hard time pointing to which one in the group. Finally we got to the solo picture of the 19 year old. " She is pretty," my friend and I chorused. " She is very beautiful and I am in love."
We found out she is a cousin to the 24 year old. I got curious, " how are you going to get her here? It is very hard for her to come here unless you petition her to become your wife."
His answer floored me. " I am not going to marry her, I don't believe in marriage, but I am a multi-millionaire. I will bring her here and send her to language school."

I tried to be funny -"You mean accent school?" He did not like that I have to correct him, or perhaps his sense of humor went down with his liver. "No, I am sending her to language school, so she can speak big words." I don't know when to shut up, so I continued, "Naah, just let her sit in front of the tv, she will learn big words real quick that way" "No, I am sending her to language school, I have money." I knew he would not let me have the last word, so I shut up.

But honestly she really will not need language school. I figured after a week of sitting next to the lawyer watching tv, she would come up with big words or maybe a full sentence like " That's retarded. Stop bossing me or I unplug your oxygen."
And after 6 months, she will move on to learn bigger words and use it in a sentence like, " Yes, your honor, I am the wife and beneficiary. And no, he did not commit suicide."

February 14

It has been a few weeks that I have not had the inspiration or maybe I should just admit - no energy to hit the keys and pound on my brain to blog! But tonight I want to write a few words to summarize my night. Today is February 14!!! And no - I do not have a Valentine, so after work, I came home and ate dinner from left overs of a week ago and went to church. I have stopped going to Wednesday night service but tonight I have signed up to help in the children's ministry. I often said that I don't do kids, but since my experience with the kids in Cebu last year, I felt that God wants me to serve here too. I arrived just in time to meet Angel and Jackie, the husband and wife team who leads the Childrens ministry. They let me observe first then asked me to help with little things like giving out the toys or checking their work about the bible. In the beginning, during the worship and singing, I noticed that the kids are very well behaved inspite of their being typical kids; active and loud. There were more than 30 kids but one boy in particular I think had a sack of sugar for dinner. He was using his thighs as drums then he would jump then beat on the chair and was really enjoying himself. The boy next to him, caught some of his energy too but was pretty mild compared to him. They sang a song that was written by this boy named Ezekiel, and the drummer and the guitarist really produced a good melody to it. You can tell Ezekiel was pretty proud after they sang the song.
I was pretty proud of myself too, because I found myself really enjoying the kids, when I used to be annoyed with their noise and chatter. I am not maternal and I don't think I am good with kids, but more and more I am now beginning to understand why God gives us kids---to help us understand why inspite of our disobedience He still loves us. One kid was trying to cheat his way to get a reward and demanded what I should give him while another kid was very meek and tried to explain to me that he did his homework but could not find the book, could he please get his reward. As I stood back during the break and observe silently, I realized that if God can be so patient with us adults, why are we so easily mad at kids misdemeanor?
My adrenalin was pumping from the chattering and shouting of the kids in that room but as I was leaving, one boy shyly asked me if I wanted a valentines card. Before I could even say yes, he put it in my hand and ran away. It was not even a valentines card, but a sports card and he wrote his name on it. I did have a Valentine after all..thank you, Andrew.

Trust the process

I am reading this book by Dr. Kathleen Hall titled A Life in Balance. In this book she talks about the first time she had experienced panic attack which leads to drastic changes in her life. She gives the prescription to nourish the roots of our life, with the acronym S.E.L.F. Serenity, Exercise, Love, Food. The book is really about mind-body health. It is very persuasive and informational but the information is not a novel idea. Jesus taught all these 2000 years ago. I can cite so many examples of this teaching in the bible, but what I really think sums up the whole teaching is the scene where Jesus was hanging on the cross in the middle of the day; hunger eating at him and the people shouting and mocking him, not to mention the excruciating pain of the nails pounded through His wrists. Physically you can see Him almost beaten to a pulp, bleeding externally He was not a sight to see, internally His organs were collapsing and yet in the midst of all that, His soul was at peace. He was still full of love, not hate. How do I know? because He asked for forgiveness for the ones who hurt him.
Nothing and no one impressed Jesus to make him alter his convictions. LOVE hinges the 10 commandments. No greater peace, no greater works, no greater food than the fruits love produces when you exercise it in truth. Without the wisdom of God, we can not truly love.

The Western medical profession has slowly come to understand that the roots of our physical ailments are not poverty or alcoholism. The heart of the problem is the problem of the heart. When our heart is right with God, our relationships with His creation; nature and people will work out.
Eastern disciplines have long taught "listen to the inner voice, trust the process" and it will lead you to the authentic you.
Duh? Jesus always said "the Holy Spirit will lead you into all truth." So let us not be like Pilate asking - What is truth? while staring at Him.

Reducing God to a chain of ....

Almost every week, I receive a forwarded email containing the word "God" in the subject heading. So I take a peek thinking it might be an inspirational story, but as soon as I see that it is a chain letter, I delete it right away. I cringed at the thought that people, even people who call themselves Christians, would think or believe that you can manipulate or cajole God into doing something because you prayed the scripted prayer and forwarded it to at least 10 others. Jesus said " when you are praying, do not use meaningless repetition as the Gentiles do, for they suppose that they will be heard for their many words, so do not be like them." Matthew 6:7.

Before I became a Christian, I used to be afraid of receiving a chain letter because I was told 'bad luck' will happen to me if I break the chain. And back then, you literally have to write (however many was called for) and mail it. No internet then! Not only was I lazy to write 1 letter, but also pay for postage when I could hardly buy bread? So imagine my anxiety when I received a chain letter and did not do anything with it. I did not know what to do; throw it away and pretend I did not read it or keep it and pray that no bad luck will happen to me. I would wake up every morning and wonder if it was the day I would have bad luck. I was even afraid to tell people I received a chain letter because I know for sure they would tell me more horror stories. What an emotional blackmail!
Thank God I have been delivered from that foolishness. Jesus died to set us free from sin and bondage. Throughout the Bible, it is very clear that nothing happens unless God 'allowed' it or 'caused' it. I do not believe in luck -not anymore -but in the sovereignty of God. I believe in Gods' blessings not in random chance.
The other day at work, there's this buzz about fasting. One is fasting, simply to cleanse and lose weight; good purpose and right motive. The other is fasting because she wants some "blessings" from God. She told me that she heard a pastor on tv say that -" if you want a big blessing from God, you should fast longer." What a blasphemy towards God to think that He owes us something, that He is obligated to do something for us because we did something for Him. And what really irritates me is that this is taught by so-called "people of God". These people may be sincere, but they are sincerely wrong. If you read Isaiah 1 in context you will understand a little bit about God and His desdain for our so-called "sacrifice". God requires obedience, Not sacrifice. To heed is better than the fat of rams.
God wants nothing more than to bless His children, but with His blessings comes discipline. And it is the discipline part that we don't take so well. With the right heart -fasting is very beneficial, spiritually and physically. But when I walked by this ladys desk and saw the heaping of green salad, (almost 2 lbs.) and baked potato with all the toppings, with her lips shimmering from the dressing, I had to ask. "I thought you are fasting?" "I am fasting from meats, I don't like meats anyway, " her quick response. I wanted to roll my eyes, say something preachy then show her Isaiah 58, but I held back and remember instead that I, myself needs to fast. Fast from being critical.

Whatever

It has been 6 days that the weather seems like a manifestation of what I am feeling inside; gloomy and cold. I just moved in to my new apartment. It is nice and I have made it cozy, but why do I not feel at home in it?

Well, this feeling is not new to me. I never knew where "home" is. When I am in the Philippines, I always say " I want to go home" meaning: go back to the US, but when I am in the US, I always feel that home is in the Philippines. I felt that when I was married and had a happy home with my Don, imagine now being alone and somewhere in between confusion and depression. I think I need to heed my doctors' advice and start taking anti-depressants. She said "there's too much to do, you need to get on the anti-depressant so you can move on with your life." Since when do we need anti-depressants to move on with life?

Of course, we get the occasional blues, the occasional unintelligible ramblings of the heart, so does that mean we are depressed and unhappy? Maybe. But without this feeling of unstability and unhappiness, we will never desire for better and bigger things, we will just settle for the mediocre. It is healthy to be unhappy in this world, after all, this is not home --we are just passing through. We need to long for our home in heaven, the one "not made with hands" as Paul said.

But what would be unhealthy is for us to stop living, to stop giving and loving while we are in this world. I am very aware of my inner turmoil because I am a very analytical person. I like answers to every question, but what I notice is that when I am in the Philippines, I don't really need answers. I still have the same questions, but they don't seem to beg for answers when I am there. The workplace here is at a maddening speed and almost everyone I talk to on the other end of the phone wants things done yesterday. But I think, people are always in a hurry so they don't catch up with themselves and find that everything is shallow and lonely. People take up causes and goals only to find after each accomplishments that it really is chasing after the wind. Vanity- all is vanity.

Choices makes people unsatisfied and depressed, otherwise, why is half of the people in this country being sedated? People change spouses as frequent as they do oil change in their cars. Why? because they can I guess. As for me, it does not take much to depress me. I look at my pantry and I see two different types of canned cuttlefish, and I say " whoa, this is too much". So I pace back and forth and try to decide which one I should eat, by the time I make a decision, my brain dictates my palates for a different food craving. So I go back to the pantry and start the same process again. See what I mean? Choices leaves open the possibility of missed opportunities and that depresses me.

I am just rambling and ranting so no theme to this article, just endless choices of topics to rant about. So I better quit before I get more depressed.

Bloom where you are planted

After 6 months of vagabonding, I am back at my desk at work. Again. I have been at this company since 1987 and I stopped counting (so has my co-workers) how many times I have told my boss " I quit". I remembered the 4th time the new manager wanted to give me a going away party, (she did not know I have quit 3x before already) one of my co-workers said, "Again?" I was not sure if she was disgusted or was excited. I came back to a new boss who is still my present boss and quit several more times after that. This last time, I did not quit but told my boss "I am leaving but don't know when I will be back, so don't wait for me." I don't know how I got so blessed with this boss, but she told me " you go and finish your menopause lunacy and when your plane lands back at DFW, get your butt back on your desk." The lunacy lasted 6 months, I mean no, the lunacy is still here, but I have to get back to work. ( if I want to eat) I surmise that I must not be that important for a job to wait 6 months without me or maybe I am just underpaid for this position that no one wants it anyway. I may be underpaid but where can I find a boss who will let me sit in her couch while she acts as my psychiatrist? And sends me off on a 6 months leave so she can be rid of me so she can do her real job.
I was glad to see my co-workers again. Work makes me feel grounded and a sense of direction.
I miss my co-workers and they all seem to be real glad to see me, although the big boss (the owner) happened by my desk and took a second glance at me and said " Oh, I thought you were a myth". The rate you pay me is a myth. I did not say that, even though he pays me like I am 12 years old.

I have resolved to make myself listen more and care more for other people. To be more accepting and tolerant, yet at the same time stand for what I believe in without compromise. The people I work with have their own unique stories to tell, I want to absorb that and use that to make this year better and richer, not with money but with relationships. Deeper relationships. I miss Cebu and the people there that have become a big part in my life, but for now, I will try to bloom where I am planted. I can't promise that I will be a perennial, but I will try.