Smiles Come In Different Shades....

There is an unadulterated child's, a familiar, a social reach, one with tones of endearment,

career protocol... and yes, an "exploitative" smile, along a few others in between. What I wish to

Eagerly, each day we must await...

expound on though on this share is... the unseen, silent, for-own-self smile... that only a few who truly know you can read. And with nary a word... they let out your harmonious smile through them, who in turn won't even dare to explain it to others, knowing full well that there is just no way. These are the friends who in conversations... you take random turns at completing or filling in the blanks in each other's sentences...  

Before I continue on further though... let me point

Nurture life in the most earnest
ways we know how...

to "exploitative". In this instance, it really is

about those who have come to rely on others' to ignite their own smiles so they can continually, even if temporarily so, overcome their pains and hide their demons. I once was a volunteer on a city suicide hotline and yes, a short stretch it was. (My predominantly positive personna I thought was going to be enough... perhaps a case or two too many, but I did discover my threshold... and mind you, not a moment of the experience went for naught.) Also, having once helped care a terminally ill cancer patient... who early on had come to peace with his fate more than the many who surrounded him. (This time... this left a life imprint becoming even larger deeper in me... as time continue to go.) I have no clinical psychiatry background... so, I'll simply leave this portion at this and leave it to readers to sort of apply own finishing comments or thoughts. 

Now going back into citing instances to further illustrate the gist of this write-up... this time

The roads we seek to navigate,
so around we may explore... 

with my then 16 year old daughter Gina as we happen to simultaneously looked at each other accompanied by subtle yet just as deep from the heart smiles... she outright just said, "Yeah, Dad... I'm you." At that particular moment, I was being quietly thankful that I was able to register equal attention to her considering she and my son are mere fourteen months apart... and in their early formative years... it was mostly sports with my overly-active toddler son whenever we three were all out together. And of course with my son Danny, smiles turning into gut-wrenching laughter at the silliest of observations without the need for trading explanations.  And with certain friends as well, when attempts to end the night at say two in the morning would find us simply move from the living room sofas to the kitchen floor only to realize hints of the about to be upon us morning sun. Ah, life's little treasures not allowed to simply let pass!

What's often amazing for me though is... when all of a sudden someone would ask me how

Head architect we each are, to the
very life we each oh-so-choose!

come I'm not smiling while, meantime... I'd be in my most gratuitous, at peace with self and belief in the moment. Yes, creating own personal space, be it away solo or in the middle a crowd of three or hundreds... is a practice not easy to be skilled at without discipline and determination. But once attained... objective detachment can be so freeing, humbling... thus allowing ethereal glow from a long, silent and hidden a smile.

This article is written in tribute to a long time known and endeared friend among a circle of close friends... who just passed away the other day. I always remembered the crescendos in the laughter within her smiles... her sense of serenity behind the guarded but not hidden self reflecting smiles... which easily and often disarm time and again many of us. I for one, was quietly in awe of her spirit and resolve to conquer the odds while ensuring that she did not deny herself whatever there was to cherish. You see, since we've known her, she was already in a condition which could have taken her away from us at any moment's time since twenty or so years ago. 

Ms. Patricia Charles, may you now indeed be... In Eternal Peace and Bliss!

Life by nature, is porous enough... yet, the basic ways among
the simple many can lead to fulfillment and inspired
benevolence... which then create advocacies upon
which many legacies are driven from... 

A California Recall...

Thankfully, yesterday's earthquake which rattled Southern California to scenes of chaos
(... understandably as "the-big-one" naturally comes forefront to the minds of many), was far enough from the San Andreas Fault, else... destructions might have been of most anticipatedly feared proportions.  Thus said, collectively... a sigh of relief in one sense.

Events like this, meantime... triggers in me a mental data search for past subject location experiences, purposely on the lighter side of events, and yes... a personal exercise out of habit to see how much and how prompt I am able to process out still, selected data from own cranial storage space. Har har...

Ah, absolutely... the drive from Monterey to Big Sur, especially the most immersive ever third time. The Pacific coast, hillside estates, quaint communities, sand, surf, uncrowded beaches, bluffs, rugged shorelines... a stretch which every so often found me rubbing my eyes, as if to undream scenic sequences as they unrolled before me.

Once in Monterey, a book, the movie... each time I never let "Cannery Row" escape me. Something about human characterizations allowing me to imagine my "space" and "role" given a certain time and circumstance. So, where else would I outright head to but to the famed district... again mentally giving life to fictitious "would-bes" and "what-ifs". Indeed, life is about navigating around or through... the trivial, trying and fanciful!

Carmel-by-the-Sea... what a throwback to whatever time one

chooses to fit the gift of a "fairy-tale-like" village setting. Best to just stay speechless, or not write about anymore... lest the attempt may shortchange the inescapably felt essence of wonderment.

And Big Sur, nature does what it easily does... be it to keep captive or engage a soul. 

Indeed, as climate change continues to evolve, it may now primarily be a literary reference to how a destination was once... still, I'll continue to ever hum... "it never rains in Southern California"!

More of Monterey, Carmel-by-the-Sea and Big Sur...

Discovering Rote Island...

Off Indonesia's half-side of Timor Island, lies a gem of a find in the unspoiled island of

... the instant classic wedding of Andrea and Les!

Rote. Sea, sun, sand, surf and glorious sunsets lift even further the already fantasy-like setting. A niece and then fiance's invitation to a wedding was how I found myself on such a wonderful escape a week ago. The bride and groom... Andrea and Les... indeed, what a dream wedding it was!

Even closer to Darwin than the island is to Bali, Rote is haven to surfers. Consistent and friendly waves are the draws. For the non-surfers, the "pick-your-own-section" of the beach is as much a priceless treat. Meanwhile, both locals and expats simply find the unhurried pace the exact fit to their chosen laid-back lifestyle. Just as a striking observation for me was... how free-ranging livestock is on the island. Various seaweeds farmed to produce agar, is a significant cottage industry. A number of resorts dot the island, some catering to the discriminating few. Seed Resort along the shore and Utopia Rote Lodge up the hills... to name two.
                                                 
From my home city of Tacloban, Philippines... it took a four-legged flight itinerary, but yes... paradise may be entered through the southernmost tip of Indonesia! 

Tucked away... Rote Island, an Indonesian getaway to eden!

Conditioning Self To Let Sleep Be As Restful...

Sundown - Lake Tabeo, Benguet PH

From college through my career days, my average sleep was mere four hours... yet being late and tiredness were non-issues with me. The difference? Sleep was always a complete rest.  Once set to retire for the night, I would be outright asleep... and through the four hours, I never would as much flinch. Dreams were relatively less than few. I would even often quip that I pretty much "resurrect" rather than just mere wake up. If I had to wake up at a certain time, all I had to do was sleep four hours prior... after which I would then timely wake up and get up. An alarm clock was one less item to have. Naps... very rarely I took.  I believe that my body would turn to rest but my mental functions wouldn't... thus siestas would simply send me to dreamland. And the typical dreams scenarios were about "being chased but can't seem to run... or in search of something seemingly impossible to locate"... making me only restless after instead.

I give utmost credit to Dr. Karl Albrecht, my college professor and a noted author on stress management. Taking to heart the approach and techniques he identified, became instrumental in my grasping the personal regimen I then structured for myself... to which I have stayed with since. 

Sea Lagoon - 
Limasawa, Southern Leyte PH

The process is conditioning mind and body on how to arrive at a most restful state. It's a more or less five minute exercise. Others would turn to biofeedback therapy (too cumbersome for me)... others to a yoga discipline of sort. (I hope to eventually get there, but for now... a little too regimented for me still.) What I elected instead... is visual association. What it is is... adjusting self to a most relaxed position (which may include loosening ties, belt, unbuttoning collars...) choosing a visual image with eyes closed... and while closed and the image constant... essentially feel and sense the release of physical energy from the top of head to out the toes... lingering a couple or so minutes at the arrived state... then slowly let calm self open back to let in filtered energy, from toes to top of head. The idea is for the process to be repeated enough to a point when a mere visualization of an image is all it will take for the body and mind to take cue on the need to be in a most relaxed state. Once the technique is fully grasped, it can then be exercised at bedtime, or pretty much randomly throughout the day... to instantly revitalize self or let off stress.

After retirement... I kept the routine for a year or so. I once commented how in retirement... I can carry as much a crazy schedule and not "lose sleep" over it. Nowadays, I still have my "waking-up-after-four-hours" norm... I get-up and stay up for about two... to work on a need, brainstorm, or satisfy a whim... then go back for a couple more or so hours of sleep. This would please my dear Danish psychiatrist friend Kate Nillsen who would insist I need to have more sleep. I even almost habitually take an hour or two naps now on typical days. Yes, there are dreams still during siestas... but surprisingly, they no longer are about "chases" and "searches"... instead, nuanced ones with real characters and mostly poignant or dearly amusing scenes from related life events... past, fairly recent or likely to occur.

I love being sixty-nine.

                                       Scenes of peace and serenity to calm restless souls... 

Crater Lake, Mt. Apo PH / Mayo Peak, Mt. Guiting-Guiting PH
Mesquite Sand Dunes - Death Valley CA / Zion National Park, UT 

Barcelona According To Gaudi...

Started in 1882, the yet
unfinished La Sagrada Familia

Ah, yes... how can a mention of Barcelona, indeed... not elicit thoughts of Antoni Gaudi and his exceptional interpretation of modern architecture, circa dawn of the 20th century. Of his works, the yet unfinished La Sagrada Familia Cathedral would become an iconic symbol of the Catalan capital... and himself, the architect. Construction started early in 1882... and the push is to now finish the cathedral by 2026, in time to commemorate the 100-year anniversary of his death. He died of severe trauma after being hit by a Barcelona street tram and is buried in the cathedral's crypt.

(This write up was prompted by a news story read earlier.) https://www.dw.com/en/barcelonas-la-sagrada-familia-gets-building-permit-after-137-years/a-49115995

The Sagrada Familia is undeniably an awesome structure... just too radical for me. Modern Gothic loses me. One of his other works, Casa Batllo, on the other hand... pleasantly

Facade of Casa Batllo

overwhelms me. The "disciplined non-discipline" is striking. (Yes, I vouch there is such a process as there is a behavior like I think I have... both introvert-extrovert.) But anyway, I do find this particular effort of his... remarkably way ahead of its time. Quite a few of the touches would be considered modern even by today's take. The use of natural light, glass and recycled bits of tiles, Gaudi was way ahead of his peers. I can only chuckle when sometimes I would end up with the thought that... perhaps, he was on "prohibited medication"... how he would come up with such unparalleled style and fluid architectural renditions. Casa Battlo captivates! 

Casa Batllo roof deck and interiors

( Gaudi's other works in Barcelona I recommend visiting ... Casa Mira, Park Guell )

  

Sagada's Mystical Echo Valley...

The Philippines is not all about islands and beaches. Up a Mountain Province stretch of the

Cordilleras, lies hidden the quaint, trails haven, pine scented municipality of Sagada. A definite backpackers' paradise, the destination merits a few days stay... a trail a day, to immerse self with the natural and sacred finds the Igorot tribes have all along been treasured with.

Echo Valley Trail is my initial feature on Sagada... the Hanging Coffins having long been the area's signature draw.

The age old tribal tradition of hanging coffins along a cliff side were actually reserved for those who died of natural causes and old age. Otherwise, the burials meant placing the coffins inside caves, the farthest in being... those with "shaded" pasts, along with the stillborn who were considered to not having seen the light of day in the first place.  

Past through the hallowed grounds... the trail turns into a nature rich experience. On a wet

day, expect sections of the paths to be quite slippery... however, with caution, trekking through is thoroughly manageable. The mountain fresh pine scented cool air, micro-climate flora will

purify a soul. The sounds of fauna, leaves rustling in the wind, flowing streams and springs all become one to give self a renewed sense of spiritual awareness.  The trail then leads into a stream traversing through a cave... opening on to Bokong Falls amid a panorama of green. 

Back to the village center... cafès, restaurants to fit a variety of appetites, and at least for me... the not-to-be-missed civet coffee, to further nurture an own sense of a "savoir vivrè" moment.  

And When The Sun Rises...

As summer in Spain approaches, here's a treasure I always go back to... Pamplona's "Running of the Bulls".

I was a small town thirteen year old kid in the early 60's when I first read Ernest

Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises"... where the annual feast of San Fermin "running of the bulls" mention of... led to the event's celebrated noteriety. The apt "coming-of-age" read... I thought. I became an instant fan of "Papa". Indeed,  fantasy books no more. My reads since became more about life experiences, biographies, about books that played on the senses and were mind provoking. 

What I'm driving at actually is about believing in dreams, to not easily lighten up on one till 

The "Run"... ran and done!

eventually reached... so a new one may start. My participation in the "Running of the Bulls" would become thus a measure on how bigger did I want this life I owe to be... and to farther go. As a teen... there was no talk about this, even much later until the "bucket list" became a "thing" in many a lighthearted discussion. I simply believed that I was going to end up doing it however which way. But first, there was high school, college, career, family... then my three "rings"...engagement, wedding and suffer-"ring" (har..har...har), and two children. In the summer of 2012, at 62... Pamplona, San Fermin, the Bull Run... were marked off my "list"

Ah, the "Run"...  Actually, by the time I decided to participate in the event, I had to wiggle

Two who who I wanted to not be in 
front of me on the run..

myself out of, by then... a personal dilemma, crossed between the "tradition of bravado" and "cruelty" to animals. I simply then reasoned out to myself that this was a motion set since roughly fifty years back... I could no longer stop it. And that, whether I ran or not, it no longer was going to change the fate of the bulls. So, I ran.

The second cannon boom meant the bulls have been set loose. My heart went booming too. Most runners usually have been party to an all night revelry so I was more concerned with who were running in front of me lest they fell or tumbled over. The path was getting narrower, the runners slower, the bulls faster... yet, surprisingly, collected I stayed.  The bulls were all by... by the time I reached the entry into arena. I headed to a secluded corner... sweat and tears, with my bandana I wiped. Ole!

Pamplona during the Feast of San Fermin