Maturity Checkpoints

I'm learning that maturity doesn't always come with age. What does it really mean to be mature?

Photo by punchstock.com

Here's an excerpt from a lecture given by Charles Swindoll -

You know you’re mature:

• When your concern for others outweighs your concern for yourself
• When the presence of danger and evil is felt before it’s obvious
• When there’s more than knowledge, there’s wisdom
• When there’s more than strength, there’s stability
• When there are more than high ideals, there is the discipline to carry them out
• When there is not only an understanding of the tasks of life, but a willingness to share the responsibility

Maturity is the ability to do a job whether you’re supervised or not. It is the ability to finish a job once it’s started, to carry money without spending it, and to have the ability to bear injustice without getting even. Lastly, it is being willing to change once convinced that correction is in order.

I believe it is not just one of those points, but all that was given. And just like love or a good stew that needed a long simmer, maturity shouldn't be rushed, but it shouldn't be intentionally delayed either.

I hope we're all on the way there  =)

Having my breakfast with a heavy heart

Well done, Mr. Steve Jobs. Thank you. You did a good job.

Quotable Quote

I ONLY care what you think of yourself. If you feel your value lies in being merely decorative, I fear that someday you might find yourself believing that’s all you really are. Time erodes all such beauty. But what it cannot diminish is the wonderful workings of your mind – your humor, your kindness, and your moral courage. These are things I so cherish in you.

- Mrs. March, Little Women

Walang Pamagat

Ibang klase talaga ang tulin ng panahon. Ang takbo nito ay parang tren na dumaraan at tumitigil lamang sa bawat estasyon upang maghatid at magsundo ng pasahero. Pambihinrang tulin at Setyembre na naman! Ilang tulog na lang at Pasko na. Ako man na napapalibutan ng kalendaryo sa opis ay nabigla pa rin.

Ilang linggo na lang pala at kaarawan ko na. Parang hindi yata tama dahil hindi pa ako handang tumanda nang isa na namang taon! Ibig sabihin kasi nito ay karagdagang responsibilidad, karagdagang puting hibla ng buhok, at syempre, ang paulit-ulit at walang-katapusang pag-udyok ng mga tao sa akin na mag-asawa na sa lalong madaling panahon. Eh kung kasing bilis lang din ba ng rumaragasang bus sa EDSA ang pagkilos ng lalaking makisig na gusto ko, sana ay matagal na akong nalagay sa tahimik. Pero sandali lang, tahimik naman ang aking buhay sa ngayon at wala akong reklamo. Ang lalaking makisig na binanggit ko ay marahil naliligaw pa at hindi ako matagpuan. Sana hulugan siya ng mapa ng Singapura ng Diyos at nang makita na niya ang daan. O kaya naman maisipan niyang i-google kung saan ako matatagpuan. Hehe.

Pero walang biro, masarap ang maging single. Kung aking babalikan ang mga nangyari sa akin at ang mga proyektong (parang konsehal lang) aking pinapasukan, maging ang iba't-ibang lugar na aking napuntahan na, naiisip kong ako ay lubos na pinagpala dahil nagawa ko ang lahat nang iyon.

Masarap mabuhay, lalo na kung napalilibutan ka ng mga mabubuting kaibigan na mahilig tumawa at magpatawa (at maglaro ng Pinoy Henyo). Masarap mabuhay kung malambot ang kama at mabango ang punda ng aking unan. Masarap mabuhay kung bawat linggo ay nakakabili ka ng sorbetes na pinalaman sa dalawang manipis na biskwit, Wall's ang tatak. Masarap mabuhay kung ang amo mo ay pinapayagan kang umuwi nang maaga para mapanuod ang lumang pelikulang Hudyo na may subtitle na Ingles dahil lang gusto mo. Masarap mabuhay para makinig ng musika sa mga kasangkapang gawa ni Steve Jobs at maglaro ng Angry Birds. Masarap mabuhay, lalung-lalo na kung alam mong sagot ka Niya. ;-)



 nuong Bente Singko pa ako

P.S. Naaalala niyo pa ba yung kantang, ♫ Tatlong bente singko lang ang aking kailangan, upang makausap ka kahit sandali lang... Tatlong bente singko sa isang araw, tatlong beses ko ring maririnig sa iyong mga labi... ♪

Paalam!

CEASE AND DESIST

...your phone stalking activities. That's not very cool, bro.

Seriously.

On Running

I hate running. I don't know but I just don't like the feeling of being out of breath, of gasping for air while looking ahead at a vast stretch of pavement I have to cover. I'd rather hit the pool any day or lift weights or walk the cat than run. Truth be told, I fear running. I think it's because when I was younger (around 12 or 13), I used to have a recurring dream (more like nightmare) that I was running away from bad people but instead of moving away from them, I was still in the exact, same spot as before. I was running in place! Since then, the thought of running has given me a silly fright. So I don't run to exercise, more so run in a race. I had actually listed to run a marathon as one of the top 30 things to try before I turn 30. But I knew at the back of my head that I would never get around to doing it :D But just last night, for some reason I felt the need to run. So I went to the NUS field and ran. With wisps of hair being blown by the wind, with my heart pounding, and arms flailing, I willed my legs to work.

I often hear people use running as a metaphor for life. I'm guessing it's because the essentials of running well and running fast are exactly what the latter requires of us – hard work, endurance, and focus. Perhaps it's also because the running field consists of the same elements that life is filled with – competition, distractions and motivation. Or maybe because people, even if we don't admit it, are always running after something (or someone).

Several minutes into my graceful-warm up-that-quickly-turned-into-panting session, my mind went blank. I lost thoughts of work or dinner and found myself just staring out at the open space before me. My feet moved mechanically and the rest of my body seemed to follow the rhythm they created. I was running. Without the familiar fear.

I now understand why most people are fond of running. It's exhilarating. It makes one feel strong and powerful. Running allows for an exhibit of youth and vigor. But one gets tired, too. Eventually. Then one would become fully aware of its limitations. Five kilometers, 10, half a marathon... It then becomes a series of conquests that are dependent on physical strength and commitment.

I started to slow down as I felt my lungs struggle for oxygen. The slight chill brought by the evening breeze was a contrast to the heat that every pore in my body was giving off. And then I sensed it, creeping in a stealthy form until its full sharpness engulfed me. Pain arrived.

Yet, as tears began to roll down my flushed cheeks, and though my heart was racing like a freshly-tuned engine, I smiled in spite of the pain. Conscious of my finiteness, I reveled in my frail existence. I ran with weak knees, short breath, and exhaustible strength. Then it dawned on me what this was really about. Having faith is what running's all about.

A Day at the Museum

If you're a tourist and you're interested to learn about Singapore - how it became a metropolitan melting pot, the story behind its delicious chicken rice, and how advanced this nation is - you should go straight to the museum first and let Sentosa wait!

"An enjoyment and appreciation of the arts [hinge] upon your willingness to absorb and reflect upon the artistic endeavors of others. No one who has not partaken, on a regular basis, of the rich heritage of those who have gone before, or of our own talented contemporaries, can truly be acquainted with or appreciate the human species as a creative creature. This enjoyment of others is as essential to understanding and developing our own creative ability as the work we do ourselves. The museums and galleries of the world cry out for inspection.... To ignore these in total is sad indeed." - Frank Schaeffer, 1981

Don't you just love the Singapore National Museum's Victorian facade? Sorry, Roark; I know you hate this stuff. :p

My darlings Riva, Emerald & Rhoda

 Entitled, 20 Tonnes. My caption - London's Stonehenge wannabe

 

Rotunda Dome - ceiling of the museum's lobby

We were greeted by the moving chandeliers entitled, Contours of a Rich Manoeuvre. Creepy much!

A photo of our tour guide in brown shirt. She kept reminding me not to touch things :D

I like how the museum caters to all your senses.

Yes, even to your olfactory gland!

Spices, roots, herbs, etc

Poverty-stricken Singapore. Gazillion years ago...

and this was their toilet

Sir Stamford (a road name) Raffles (a road name and an MRT line) is so pogi.

During the 1940's, the colour orange was so rockin'!

Learned a new word that day - horology...

It is the art of watchmaking from the Swiss pioneers. That era was during the Calvinist Reformation, Jewelry were considered ostentatious so craftsmen shifted to watchmaking.

Two of the photos from famous photojournalist, Abbas under the category, Muslims.

This was displayed between cheongsams and saris.

Decrease in unemployment rate in Singapore over the years. Lord, i pray for this to happen in the Philippines, too.

Entitled, Transformation

Long outdoor escalator. Electrocution waiting to happen??

Sad that i was not able to take more photos of the inside as my antique cybershot has conked out at this point. Photos now courtesy of my iphone.

Now, let's look at another art - the art of planking! :p

Riva's such a risk-planker! Hehehe