Of gratitude and grace

Have let “strangers” into the home this last few days, and been kindly offered the lessons of their selves.

(Oh, they have been brought to me by HB. Thanks HB!)

There is Manong carpenter’s genuine concern. He rescued an old rattan shelf from the sidelines of the garage and gave it a fresh lick of varnish, of his own volition. He disbelieved the claims of the bragging electrician. He didn’t rise to the bait of the men next door who wanted to know if he was making a killing from putting tiles to our kitchen wall (just so the adobo doesn’t splash, you know ;-), as if I know how to cook anything including even adobo?!). He’s not making a killing because there’s no killing to be made.

I am so grateful for the fact that there is finally someone that I can finally trust, who’s not just putting me on, who’s not giving off testosterone [yabang, pare!] simply because that’s how men know how to do it, particularly when there’s a group of them together. Finally, there’s someone who appears to be genuinely helpful, and sincere, and who’s on the level when we’re talking about costs.

Feckin’ sigh of relief. Oh universe, let there be more men like Manong.

Then there is Yaya Siony’s ultra-mega-super-bilis-and-super-efficient-to-the-trillionth-degree work style. No matter that she straightened up the heart-shaped mirror I purposely put askew. Oh dang but that woman packs a punch. Whirlwind S cleaned up everything she set her eyes on, even outside the windows! She washed, ironed, cleaned, mopped, sorted, folded --- completing in 8 hours what we encourage our other ate to do in two-three days, and by ourselves, takes months. Good golly gee, I am amazed.

S’wonderful, s’marvelous.



On to other things:

I am currently learning three new things at the same time: statistics, group therapy and belly dancing.

I adore fresh fruit shakes. My favorites are watermelon, and papaya. I often make a beeline for the fresh fruit shake stands at the mall, and make restaurant choices based on whether or not they have fresh fruit shakes.

I also like a slice of papaya with calamansi for breakfast.

From belly dancing, I am learning discipline --how to move the hips, repeat only the hips! Control the movement of the upper body including the arms!

More important, there is the necessity to be centered. To draw oneself into one’s center, to find one’s balance so that one doesn’t topple over while trying to learn belly dancing. The spiritual aspect of this seemingly physical lesson – presented as a dancing lesson no less! – is certainly not lost on me!

I must at all times, hold on to my center. With both arms and both legs, and even my chin. Me, the one with a tendency to be scattered to the winds!

The teacher’s chant drums in my head for hours after the class is over: Chest out, center, contract, sit … chest out, center, contract, sit.


P.S. That by the way is the series of moves designed to come off smoothly in what may be known to you as the body language dance step. Hihihihi.