Broadway Bound (Again)


Less than a week to go before our “Off to Broadway” production in Grade 1 and I’m at my wits end here.  Compared to last year, I seem to have started much earlier for this year’s preparations.  But still – somehow – I’m barely hanging.

I guess it’s the rehearsals that are getting to me.  Less than two weeks to teach new songs to two groups of pupils (ranging from 6 to 7 yr olds) for their performances is like going on a specops mission… you’re not sure how it’ll turn out but definitely hoping for the best possible outcome amidst forces you can’t control.

Anyway, November 25, 2016 is D Day.  So I’ll just have to wing it and keep my fingers crossed.

Just to keep me inspired, I’m sharing some photos of last year’s “Broadway Bound” Production.

Opening Salvo – Dance Club

MAGIC TO DO from PIPPIN

First Performance: BE OUR GUEST from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Second Performance: GETTING TO KNOW YOU from THE KING AND I

Intermission with…

Our very own Fantine with her rendition of ON MY OWN from LES MISERABLES

Broadway Medley of Pippin’s CORNER IN THE SKY, Mamma Mia’s I HAVE A DREAM, The Little Mermaid’s PART OF YOUR WORLD, Hercules’ GO THE DISTANCE, and Annie’s I THINK I’M GONNA LIKE IT HERE.

Third Performance: WHEN I GROW UP from MATILDA

Fourth Performance: ONE SHORT DAY from WICKED


Special Performance: FOR GOOD from WICKED

Closing Performance: Glee Club

SEASONS OF LOVE from RENT

I take off my hat and salute all who made it possible… these wonderful people!!!

Sometimes too…


And there are times that you wish you’d be able to turn for comfort and encouragement -even just a simple return gesture – from the most unexpected places.  With the same conviction and passion to help you push forward and get past the nightmare of a mistake.

No judgments.  No comments.  No criticisms.

To be enveloped in the arms of understanding and be led back to normalcy.

I guess that’s how trauma is managed.  Be processed.  Then reenter the society.

Traumatized.  Lost.

Sometimes


Sometimes, the thing you’ve feared to become in the eyes of others infects you.  You end up being labeled as the thing you feared the most… without meaning to… without intending to.

A lapse of judgement… a totally unrelated huddle… misinterpreted by others.

#insensitive

Self-fulfilling prophecies that Mr. Subconscious takes over of.

Insignificant and worthless.

Then the inner turmoil sets in.  Rearing a beast of doubt and insecurity hell-bent in wreaking havoc to an otherwise glorious moment.  All too consuming… engulfing every ounce of joy and excitement for the fun of the game, leaving only emptiness, errors, and self-doubt.

Drowning.  Trying to reach out… clumsily failing.

No More of Them


During my senior year in High School, a classmate of mine wrote an essay weeks before graduation entitled as above.  It chronicled her thoughts about the overall make up of the class – different personalities, cliques, and the first and lasting impressions it elicits – during the first few days and the last few weeks, memorable class experiences (the almost always 4th place wins during batch competitions in singing, dancing, choral speeches), the dramas that unfold due to the chemical combo of puberty, friendship,hormones, and schoolwork (aka growing pains that somehow made each one in class become their own person), and disbelief that senior year went by too soon and would no longer endure and enjoy spending days together.

How I wished we were able to keep a copy of that simple write-up which she posted on our bulletin board.  And how I wished I could have written something that well.

Although I may never see my former classmates as often as during my high school years, reunions are usually just around the corner for meet ups (or when necessity dictates. lol).  Especially now that it’s already November.

“No more… of them…”

But November brings other memories in mind.  It’s a time to reminisce people that you see no more… of them… no matter how many reunions or homecomings I may decide to attend.

As I lay quietly in the comforts of my bed and listen to the familiar noise in my neighborhood, I am reminded of how long I’ve lived here that each residence has its own familiar “natural” sound.  Even though most homeowners are just tenants, every house has its own voice.  The quiet slam of the car doors from two doors away, the noisy chatter from visiting transients across the street, and the thundering footsteps on the second floor of the house next door are just some sounds that I have come to be familiar with in my lifetime.  But the most deafening noise I’ve heard so far is from the silence of the gates from three doors across our house – the home of one of one of my mom’s oldest friend, and my honorary aunty ever since I can remember.

The sound of her gates opening and closing could be heard even inside our own house and would usually signal to me that she’s home at night or leaving for work in the morning.  Day in and day out, it has been a part of my life.  When mom and dad would have to  be away, I’d get to stay at her house.  I learned how to play Word Factory with her and experienced my first overnights.  When her nieces and nephews would visit, I’d be invited over to play.  During parties at her house or even in her hometowns, we’d be asked to attend.  She never got married so she was like a second mom to me too while growing up.  When my mom passed away, she was also in remission due cancer of the stomach (or was it the colon).  I’d occasionally visit her at home just to keep her company while she waits for her niece, and for me to not feel lonely too during my mom’s first year in passing.  Then life progressed.  I kept myself busy but would still listen it to the rusty sound of her gates shrieking open.  Then suddenly… no more… for a really long time.  When I would call out on her… no answer.  At first, I thought she was back at the hospital or stayed for a while at their family house. Then during October last year, I called for her again (knowing October was her birthday month).  But still nothing.  It was then that my godmother from two doors away informed me that aunty Frosy passed away on September.

I never got to visit.  Not even to pay my respects or hug her and thank her.  I never even got to write about it last year when I should have.  But the words would just escape me.  I could only think of then was “No more of them.”

Home front

I am constantly reminded that I live alone.  More so lately now that I seem to be surrounded by a new set of people I’ve had the priviledged to meet.  They wonder if I’m just okay by myself and ask if don’t I ever get scared.  Honestly, for now, yes I’m fine and no I’m not scared.

Last week I had a chance to meet a Jesuit priest who was part of the school community my mom worked for during my basic education years.  Fr. was surprised to have heard that Mom and Dad passed away that the 2nd time we met up again, he kept on asking what happened and how I’m getting by.  Naturally, one day at a time.  I may not see more of them, but being where I work, seeing the people who knew them occassionally, doing the things we’ve been used to doing, and being here at home makes it easier to get things back to normal.

But nevertheless, Novembers are the toughest.  November 6, 2010 was when my dad passed away.  And since Mommy has also gone to eternal rest, visiting the cemetery during All Souls Day gets tough… especially going there alone, cleaning up, placing flowers, praying, and talking.  Nobody to share with.  And sometimes, going home to an empty house after visiting… physically reminds me… no more of them.

Work

Just this afternoon (November 7), we laid to rest one of our co-teachers.  This one hits a bit closer to home since she was in the same grade level I’m currently assigned, and she has been one of my supporters for my Broadway Productions in Grade 1.  Seeing the events of her fall and hospitalization through other peoples eyes and mine, breaks my heart most especially witnessing the loss, the uncertainty, and the fear the family members are left with.  Stories and sorrows from friends and colleagues who, upon returning to work would definitely feel the void… the freshness of seeing no more of Tr. Jess.

Nobody said that it was easy.  Sometimes we’re only prepared to say goodbye since we know we’ll meet again soon enough… but for the long haul, it’s a scary prospect and we’re never fully ready.  Just have to take it one day at a time.

In saying goodbye, reunions, grieving, and in healing, I guess we just have to make the most of it.  The beginning may be rocky at first, and we encounter a lot of bumps in the road.  But it’s never the destination that makes it worthwhile… it’s the journey.  No more of them maybe, but it’ll be okay eventually.  Especially when they will always be in our hearts.

To Always Understand


I don’t know where to begin.

I should really be sleeping… but my mind… my thoughts are keeping me up.  It’s all just a bunch of statements, piling up one on top of the other.  Revolving around: understanding.

“I always have to understand.”

That sentence slowly crept up on me earlier like a vine making its way around a fence.  Maybe it’s a thought that has been inching its way through my psyche… or perhaps it’s brought about many random things.

I’d like to think that I am an understanding person (well… up to a certain extent) but I think it was different years ago.  Growing up as an only child, I had a nasty temper.  I’d get easily mad if someone annoyed me, cry if someone hurt me, and withdraw when I felt left out.  Without saying anything, I think i wanted everyone to conform o my preferences.  That got me a lot of scolding, a couple of physical admonitions, and a few friends.

But nature flows on its own course.  Maturity set in.  And although, I still stretch the limits in getting what I want, I somehow knew what to risk in taking the chance.  My parents were the (un)lucky ones to experience my hotheadedness (and my ex-boyfriend).  As for some of my friends, they’ve witnessed and have taken a peek on that.  Not the full onslaught (thankfully!).

Anyway, as I’ve broadened my horizon and had the privilege of exposing myself in different environments (work, organizations) and people, flairing tempers started to be kept in check, control developed, triggers were acknowledged and let go, and the importance of understanding (maybe even empathy) was learned and appreciated.  I grew up.

I guess it helped that my field of work in my different employment focused on human interaction.  That, and having loads of responsibilities as well as living independently.

“Seek first to understand, then to be understood.”

I first heard of this from my mom.  It’s Stephen Covey’s 5th Habit of Highly Effective People.  And it truly is.  It practices the Golden Rule: “Do unto others what you want others to do unto you.”  So if you want to be understood, you have to give your understanding too.

But what happens… when in seeking to understand others, you can’t get your own message across because you understood their predicament as well that the issue you may have towards that person becomes negated since they may be going through a more difficult patch in their lives?

Emergencies: “Sorry, I can’t make it… I’m not feeling well.. please understand…”

Trying times: “Please understand… now’s not a good time for me…” or “You know I’m still not over you-know-who, so please don’t ask me”

Apologies: “You have to understand, I was in a meeting and had matters to attend to….” or “I already said sorry.”

So many triggers. Emergencies, Emotional Turmoil, Uncontrolled Circumstances.  Things you can’t control but understand too well that these are indeed difficult moments.  How would you be able to have the heart to share your own?  Or say that these things bother you too and affect you?  Can’t complain about these predicaments.  I just hope it’ll eventually get better soon and bounce back to normalcy.

I guess it’s not just being understood.  After all, that’s where good communication comes in and extending the same courtesy… eventually.  Maybe it’s more of being appreciated too.

If ever I may reach my breaking point and cannot put the lid on it, I’m imperfect too.

Please understand.

My Super Late Birthdate Post


[Somehow the post I made last November 11 got erased… or my final output wasn’t saved properly… so I’m editing this one…]

I promised myself to – at least – post during my birthdays.  So I’m fulfilling that promise.

It’s been 3 months to this date since my birthday.  I had every intention of writing a post last August 11 (but I missed out that time.  Blame the lackluster drive to write) … the 11th of September… then I didn’t even try anymore last October.

You’d probably say “How pathetic!”  And I’d… somehow agree.  So instead of making excuses and justify with lame reasons, I’m going to simply jump in and share what’s been going on (to you my dear readers who’ve been patiently waiting).

Can you think of a time that you needed to accomplish something but just couldn’t get to really doing it?

This post would be one example for me.  I’ve been writing and rewriting it in my brain as if it were my birthday yesterday.  And yet I still could not make myself open my app.  Maybe the idea of turning an age older and not have accomplished much since last year was not even worth celebrating.  Even my boss has already encouraged me to take the time off then to finish my research paper revisions in time for my birthday to really have something to celebrate (the second example of something I needed to accomplish… you get the drift).  And I ended up coming down with the flu and fever during my birthday week.  Maybe celebrating for myself is just so passé. I haven’t been really feeling celebratory about my own self. Celebrating for others… well that’s another matter.

I guess it’s easier to celebrate for others than for myself. Glad to discover my “creative juices” have been free-flowing. I’ve been juggling from sketching, diys, and just about any stuff that catches my fancy. So I’m posting some photos of the ones I’ve done so far.

Office Stuff

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DIY Projects
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Sketches and Artwork

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That’s all for now. If you want to ask about the DIYs I’ve made, feel free to post a comment and I’ll try to get back to you. I’m currently helping out the English Department of my grade level in preparing for a production. So i’m quite busy with that. I hope to write about it once it’s done. So keep posted!🙂

In the meantime, if you want to be updated on some of my arts and crafts, check out my Instagram account at the right side of this site.🙂


I took up Psychology in college.

But until now I still feel awkward spouting out technical psych terms.  I feel inadequate or too labelly if I do…

Counsel as a friend or a counselor?

Alone


There are many things in life that you go through alone.  Being born, surviving the death of a loved one, duties at work, your thoughts, your emotions, writing your own paper…authentic happiness, getting sick… death.

It is so amazing that amidst the billions of people in this earth, no one else goes through the same thing as you.

(Terminal, Ecoland, 05.09.15)

—- unfinished

Off My Foot


So I met a slight mishap a couple of nights ago causing extreme pain to my right heel whenever I take a step.  At first I thought it was just a bruise… but as I kept on walking, it became more painful everytime my heel touches the ground.  I ended up not going to work the day after the incident and went to the doctor for a check up.

Turns out my foot got traumatized with the impact as I alighted from the moving jeepney.  If the pain won’t go away by Friday, I’ll need to have an x-ray just to rule out calcaneal spur… or what the doctor explains is an extra bone under my foot.  [This said bone got the impact as I landed… can’t exactly explain the pain.]

Therefore I’m under medical orders to be off my feet with my medical certificate stating “Traumatic Rheumatism”.

Geez… such a mouthful.  And so medically-sounding. Lol

Anyway, now I’m literally and figuratively off my feet.  Still a bit ambiguous as to how I should feel about it though.  On the one hand I get to rest from work (although it’s only been less than a week since the start of school) on the other hand it sucks that I can’t do any physical activities that involve my feet (walking, jogging, biking) and missing out on a number of activities slated over the weekend.  Being a couch potato isn’t as appealing as before.  Living alone isn’t exactly easy when you can’t walk.

At least I get to sleep during the day, catch up on series reruns, and put my feet up.

I just hope the pain goes away.  It would be a bummer to walk on my own for my xray.

Oh well.  Challenge accepted!

Bugsay Mindanao 2: Paddle for Peace


Not too busy this Saturday?  

Head down to Waterfront Insular Hotel Davao on May 16, 2015 to watch different dragon boat teams of Mindanao as they compete at the Bugsay Mindanao 2: Paddle for Peace Dragon Boat Competition.

Witness visiting teams from CdeO (Liceo Dragonoids of Liceo de Cagayan University), Butuan (FSUU Blue Dragons of Fr. Saturnino Urios University), Iligan (Team Bakunawa) as well as local Davao teams such as the Dragons del Sur, Base Camp Davao Dragons, and Hiraya Minokawa Dabaw paddle for peace… For one Mindanao!

  
Race day activity starts at 6:00AM.  Free admission.

Hope to see you there!  Please support my team, Hiraya Minokawa Dabaw as we slice the waters with purpose… For the love of the sport, for peace, for the environment, and for one Mindanao!

Kindly visit and like our Facebook Page for updates by clicking the link below:

https://www.facebook.com/hirayaminokawadabaw

  

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