The Day After the Feast of St. Augustine

Yesterday (August 28) was the feast of St. Augustine of Hippo. I celebrated it in silence and alone with you. I reminded you about it as if you need reminding. All these years, I remain as restless as a young man as he ran in pursuit for some truths to satisfy his curiosity of his carefree days. You are witness to such restlessness.

Time brought changes into all those that are. Here I sit a day after the feast day of my patron saint holding on to a past that is already gone trying to rally for its continued hold into the culture that is fast becoming obsolete. It remains present though in a mind fixated to those moments of wild abandon of bygone years. Here I endure and convince myself to accept the things of the present moment that are consequences of such puerile and reckless "indecisiveness."

Yet my heart is not at rest. There is stubbornness that wanted to rebel against the "consequenced-past" and the "regrettable present." It is hard to vision out my path into the "desired future" lest I become a Sisyphean troll or a condemned Promethean man.

I must teach myself to accept the things of the present...to live with it (without judging its value?).

Yes, these are the images I painted in my mind a day after I celebrated my patron saint's feast day alone with you. Those were the thoughts wandering about in the region of dissimilarity, set aside my conjectures about the laws of attraction and gravitational pull vis-a-vis the subtle influence of the dictum, "Amor meus, pondum meum." But such things are as I said, conjectures.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Something About Tumbo (Cara y Cruz): A Hypothesis

Image
They say that mahjong is just a diversion, a recreation of some sort of the bored and the retired. But they say that cara y cruz is a different case. However you look at it--in both sides of the coin (pun intended), it is gambling and therefore those who indulged in it (read, the poor ones) are playing in conflict with law. And so, since yesteryears, people accepted those facts. Mahjong is recreational while cara y cruz or tumbo is gambling and illegal at that. An Alfonso showing its head and tail or if your prefer its "hari" & "corona" But I was amused at the scene of a group of individuals by an "island" at corner T.M. Kalaw and Taft Avenue I happened to pass by while doing research at the National Archives of the Philippines sometime in August 2010. I just alighted from the Light Rail Transit (LRT) at UN Station and was finding my way to cross T.M. Kalaw when I noticed a bunch of lot playing cara y cruz on the elevated concrete "isla
Read more

SOOTHING AS NIGHT WINDS ARE: An Interpretation of the poem by that title by Salvador B. Espinas

Image
Love is gentle, love is quiet Like any distant star; In loving by which we approximate the nature of love, we do not coerce those we love—as much as possible we give room for freedom to grow and respect each other’s independence, i.e., each other’s time of searching. In loving, the lover is like the distant star, manifesting his presence and yet quietly, not trying to obstruct or block the path of the beloved. He stands besides quietly assuring her of his gentle presence and constant attention. Love is beauty, love is music Soothing as night winds are. Lovers are enchanted by the wonders of creation. One who is in loved would often quips that everything seems beautiful and that “ life has music, rhythm and rhyme” –which actually is. Somehow, love enables man and woman to see reality as God sees it. As even in times of trouble, loves comes like night winds, soothing our weary mind and aching heart.
Read more

Maeocong, Chieftain of the Jae-o No More

Image
There was a time when the early settlers by the Jal-o regarded the river with a sense of foreboding. While it served as the main thoroughfare, their public baths and laundry pond, the river held many mysteries kept hidden among its lush mangroves and adjoining swamps and tributaries. Rumors and reports of actual sightings of monstrous amphibians wading its waters had been told in every household. The authorities had warned the villagers to stay out of the water especially at nighttime. Of those crocodiles, Maeocong was regarded as the dominant bull--the king of the Jae-o. He was long as a boroto (local banca) and heavier than an adult carabao. It was said that he was more deadly if paired with his favorite mate, Pingan Nonay . Together, they wreck terror along the Anao and Bag-ot swamps. For a time, the settlers tolerated their fear. They lived their lives by the Jal-o with that ominous awareness that they were not the masters of the river. But such fears had hounded them even in th
Read more