17 years ago, we were all hanging out under that tree (and may have experienced a fallen higad or two). We’d be cramming for tests, singing to whoever’s on the guitar (or with whoever wanted to sing acapella), doodling in our barkada’s logbook (a real live group blog!), arguing (sometimes), and laughing (lots of times). Unlike relationships with then-boyfriends and then-girlfriends, we stuck to one another all throughout college, and way after college.

It’s 2012, definitely way after college. The bonds stay present, the bonds stay strong. I don’t know if that tree or the steps are still there. We don’t need that tree or the steps to make us feel like we’re still in college anyway. Put us anywhere together and it’ll be the same old us (give or take a couple of pounds).

Rowie. Amy (Ordo’s wife). Ordo. Me. Raffy. Anj. Bok. Caths (Ganns’ wife). Ganns. Karen. Not in the picture: Chiqui (New York). Erik (Baguio). Jonas.

I wanted to end this blog entry with some cheesy friendship quote, but I couldn’t find a saccharine one that captured our group’s relationship. I found this instead:

“A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked.” — Bernard Meltzer

You don’t get to 17 years without a couple of cracks. Heck, even if one of us eggs breaks we’ll stick by one another. Check us out in 17 years and I just know we’ll still be together, cracks and all. Yep, my friends are a bunch of good eggs. They’re the best eggs I know. <3

Last year I told myself I’d learn how to bake a pie and make a quilt. 2011 went by and the most I did was buy a cookbook and gather clothes for the baby quilt I was supposed to make. This year, I’ll go simple with the resolutions. One of them is to create a better workspace at home, the other is to delete.

There’s an episode on How I Met Your Mother when Robin was asked to delete a number of an old flame. All she does is drunk dial him anyway. Marshall was asked to delete a random number from his cell, which turned out to be the booker for a club where he played with a band once. Heads up: Marshall is not in a band and hasn’t been in one for years. Lily was asked to delete the number of her old karate dojo where she was defeated by a kid. All of them end up deleting those numbers from their cellphones. Closure is what they called it.

My purpose for deleting names and numbers isn’t really closure. It’s simply streamlining. Do I really want someone I’ve only met once and don’t really talk to anymore to know about my favorite movies? Heck, she or he probably doesn’t even care what I put as my status. Deleting is also a way of letting go of energy vampires. You know who they are — the people who bring you down, who do nothing but make you feel bad about yourself and life in general. I’ve had a couple and want to minimize contact with them. Since I see them on Facebook more often than I see them in person, “delete friend” I shall go.

Another reason for deleting? To make room for new blessings. Deleting as a resolution doesn’t only pertain to people, but to objects such as the clutter in my closet and the bedroom floor. Deleting, erasing, getting rid of, decluttering — all these are ways of making room for new things. New connections. New places. New opportunities. Fresh perspectives.

Deleting is a way to nurture what I have. After the purging is done, what I’ll be left with is the stuff I care about, be it a list of people on the phone or a couple of clothes on hangers. There’s a reason why they’re staying. There’s a reason why they should be cherished.

Out with the old, the useless, the negative, the sad, the humps, the things that once held me back. In with the new, the purposive, the happy, the leaps, the things that can push me forward. If it’s deleting that will help me let go of 2011′s booboos and negativity, then I’m all for it. Delete to refresh. Delete to reconnect. Delete to move forward.

They say when you’re all grown up, Christmas becomes just another passing day. Why put up Christmas decor when you’ll take them down anyway? Why learn to bake a specific recipe for Noche Buena if it’s only just one night? Why dress your best when it’s the same old faces you’ll be seeing on Christmas Eve?

As we age, Christmas tends to lose its magic. Bogged down by everyday routine and the reality of budgets, chores and to-do lists, the holiday can be stripped off the splendor we used to associate with it. Wasn’t it only yesterday when my cousins and I would go caroling down the streets, freezing just a little bit as the cold December air kissed our cheeks? Now you can’t even go down the street without worrying you’d get run over, mugged or fall down an open manhole.

And then you have kids. You begin to remember what it was like eons ago when you first set the star atop your tree. You begin to feel that desire to make Christmas special for them. Who cares if you yourself have lost that spirit? Christmas isn’t about you. It was never about you. It was always about something else, about someone else. You begin to realize that holy shiznit, Christmas really is for the young ones. Your Christmas eons and eons ago was made special because those around you made it special for you — your parents, your grandparents, your siblings, your family, your friends. Now, it’s your turn. It’s your turn to make it special for others. It’s your turn to make it truly special and memorable for children, whether your own or others’. Their sense of magic is still intact. Their fascination for the twinkling lights and gold tinsel is still present. Heck, Santa Claus lives. Generosity is linked with gift-giving. The love of family is present in each cup of hot chocolate they drink.

This Christmas day, do it for the kids. Let go of jadedness. Let go of cynicism. Dare I say it — let go of reality. You are creating beautiful memories with them, for them. Feel the magic of the Christmas spirit once again. All it takes is one look into the children’s eyes, wide with wonder and amazement, and hopefully your heart opens up to the same beauty that they see this season.

Have a cookie. Wear red. Wear a headband with reindeer antlers and call yourself Rudolph (or Dasher or Dancer or Comet or Vixen). Go to Christmas mass. Share bibingka and hot chocolate with those you love. Surprise them with presents you know they will love. Eat queso de bola. Go caroling in your neighborhood (be safe!). Rip open all gifts. Shout “Merry Christmas!” when the clock strikes midnight. Take lots and lots of pictures.

One can never be too busy for even just a little magic. One can never be too old for even just a little wonder.

This Christmas, I wish you the same Christmas magic you felt as a child. I wish you the same amazement, the same awe that you felt eons and eons ago. I also wish that you pass on that same magic to the kids in your family, the kids in your neighborhood, the kids you encounter this Christmas season.

Christmas may be just one day, but the magic and memories one day creates lasts a lifetime.

Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones. <3

Cheers,
Toni

For today’s round of Inspiration Sunday, let me share some of his words with you. These images are e-cards he features on his blog. Read and be inspired.

Happy Sunday!

Then it hit me. I was freaking scared. I am freaking scared of growing old.

It’s not about the liver spots. It’s not about the white hair (I have lots of that already, darn it). It’s the thought that someday I will be helpless, frail, in need of someone to hold me up if needed. I am so damn freaking scared.

Please to remove my white hair?

Dramatic much? Being anxious about old age is natural, but it never hit me this hard until now. There’s the fact that I have a son. Can what I am doing for a living now sustain him till he graduates from college? Who will watch him if ever I go early? Who will take care of my husband? If I live till my eighties, who will take care of me?

I can either continue being freaked out or do something about this anxiety. I admit I border between feeling terrified and anxious. It doesn’t help that I’ve been in a little valley of semi-depression the past week. Seeing that old woman just propelled me to getting cold feet about old age.

Let me wallow in self-misery under these sheets.

Maybe I can find the fountain of youth. But since that doesn’t exist, maybe I can just resolve to do the best I can out of the present and not think so much about the future. That’s what optimists do, right?

I voiced out my concerns to my husband, and he said, “If you think you’ll be frail in old age, maybe it’s because you think you’re frail today.”

WHOMP.

Smack in the face with those words. Nail right on the head. Total friggin’ sense. He then gave me advice on getting back in shape and stuff like that, but I was still stuck on that line.

“Maybe you think you’re frail today.”

Because he’s right. I do think I’m frail.

So what’s a frail woman to do? Kick life in the butt. Or maybe it’s the other way. Kick more freaking butt in life.

After a week of wallowing in sadness and abundant self-pity, I’ll try another approach this week. Maybe I’ll work out. Maybe I’ll make some calls. Maybe I’ll stop worrying so much about growing old so I don’t miss out on the present. That doesn’t sound so hard to do now, does it?

“I’ve got confidence in sunshine. I’ve got confidence in rain.” – Froline Maria

Even optimists have their bad days. After all, how would you know what makes you happy if you don’t know what makes you sad? Or maybe we just need to take some steps back in order to know how to move forward best. There’s wishing and wanting but then there’s doing.

But enough with the philosophical chinwag. I have frailty issues so I must do something about this. Like not getting freaking scared about growing old.

The first step: I’m going to have my hair coloured. Let’s start with getting rid of all those damn white hair. Whatever the next steps are, I’m sure they’ll be steps forward. I’ll make sure I don’t land in another puddle of self-pity. Life’s too precious to wallow in puddles.

Title of post is a line from John Mayer’s song “Stop This Train.” Listen to the song here or click “play” below. So good.

Credits: Photo: “Just a little off the top….” by Keven Law, c/o Flickr. Some Rights Reserved Photo: “neighbors – betty” by Emily, c/o Flickr. Some Rights Reserved Photo: “So frail” by Mattias Barthel, c/o Flickr. Some Rights Reserved.

Have a relaxing week!

Sources: Rainbow. Window. Attic room. Turquoise. Spring. Charming. Black and white. Heart on the wall. Beach bedroom. Jacob. Organized. Stars. Dorm. Reading corner. Fairy lights.

Image credits: Rain. Call and Answer. Go on. Quit your job. Coin toss. Fish Genius. Story. Midnight Magic. Curious. It gets better. Rent. Never forget.

Off-topic, I think she and Charlie Brown eventually ended up together.

Happy Monday! Here’s hoping this post helps you beat the Monday blues.

Sometimes the familiar can get boring. Once they become distant however, you realize how much of your happiness is drawn from the comfort of what you’ve grown accustomed to.

So… thank you for Shrek everyday. Thank you for the everyday routine that puts the toddler at ease. Thank you for spaghetti everyday. Thank you for the daily (hourly even) iPhone tug-of-war with the toddler. Thank you for the messy meals. Thank you for the to-do list that never gets fully ticked off. Sometimes these drive me crazy, but the truth is I find comfort in them. These are some of the things that are most important to me. Time with the boy, the thrill of burning the midnight oil on those to-do list items.

What everyday familiar things do you find much happiness in?

What say you?

Happy Monday!

From tumblr via calmblueoceans.