Long Walk to Forever

(you remind me of this story. Thank you for the long walks every night.)

They had grown up next door to each other,on the fringe of a city,near fields and woods and orchards,within sight of a lovely bell tower that belonged to a school for the blind.

Now they were twenty,had not seen each other for nearly a year.There had always been playful,comfortable warmth between them,but never any talk of love.

His name was Newt.Her name was Catharine.In the early afternoon,Newt knocked on Catharine's front door.

Catharine came to the door.She was carrying a fat,glossy magazine she had been reading.The magazine was devoted entirely to brides."Newt!" she said.She was sur- prised to see him.

"Could you come for a walk?" he said.He was a shy person,even with Catharine. He covered his shyness by speaking absently,as though he were a secret agent pausing briefly on a mission between beautiful,distant,and sinister points.This manner of speaking had always been Newt's style,even in matters that concerned him desperately.

"A walk?" said Catharine.

"One foot in front of the other,"said Newt,"Through leaves,over bridges--"

"I had no idea you were in town,"she said.

"Just this minute got in,"he said.

"Still in the Army,I see,"she said.

"Seven more months to go,"he said.He was a private first class in the Artillery. His uniform was rumpled.His shoes were dusty.He needed a shave.He held out his hand for the magazine."Let's see the pretty book,"he said.

She gave it to him."I'm getting married,Newt,"she said.

"I know," he said."Let's go for a walk."

"I'm awfully busy,Newt,"she said."The wedding is only a week away."

"If we go for a walk," he said,"it will make you rosy.It will make you a rosy bride."He turned the pages of the magazine."A rosy bride like her--like her--like her," he said,showing her rosy brides.

Catharine turned rosy,thinking about rosy brides.

"That will be my person to Henry Stewart Chasens," said Newt."By talking you for a walk,I'll be giving him a rosy bride."

"You know his name?" said Catharine.

"Mother wrote,"he said."Form Pittsburgh?"

"Yes,"she said."You'd like him."

"Maybe," he said.

"Can--can you come to the wedding,Newt?" she said.

"That I doubt."he said.

"Your furlough isn't for long enough?"she said.

"Furlough?"said Newt.He was studying a twopage ad for flat silver."I'm not on furlough,"he said.

"Oh?" she said.

"I'm what they call A.W.O.L.," said Newt.

"Oh,Newt!You're not!" she siad.

"Sure I am,"he said,still looking at the magazine.

"Why,Newt?" she said.

"I had to find out what your silver pattern is,"he said.He read names of silver pat- terns from the magazine."Albermarle?Heather?"he said."Legend?Rambler Rose?" He looked up,smile."I plan to give you and your husband a spoon,"he said.

"Newt,Newt--tell me really,"she said.

"I want to go for a walk,"he said.

She wrung her hands in sisterly anguish."Oh,Newt--you're fooling me about be- ing A.W.O.L.,"she said.

Newt imitated police siren softly,raised his eyebrows.

"Where--where from?" she said.

"Fort Bragg," he said.

"North Carolina?" she said.

"That all right,"he said."Near Fayetteville--where Scarlett O'Hara went to school."

"How did you get here,Newt?" she said.

He raised his thumb,jerked it in a hitchhike gesture."Two days," he said.

"Dose your mother know?"she said.

"I didn't come to see my mother,"he told her.

"Who did you come to see?" she said.

"You," he said.

"Why me?"she said.

"Because I love you,"he said."Now can we take a walk?"he said."One foot in front of the other--through leaver,over bridges--"

They were talking the walk now,were in a woods with a brown-leaf floor.

Catharine was angry and rattled,close to tears."Newt,"she said,"this is absolutely crazy."

"HOw so?"said Newt.

"What a crazy time to tell me you love me,"she said."You never talked that way before."She stopped walking.

"Let's keep walking,"he said.

"No,"she said."So far,no farther.I shouldn't have come out with you at all,"she said.

"You did,"he said.

"To get you out of the house,"she said."If somebody walked in and heard you talk- ing to me that way,a week before the wedding--"

"What would they think?"he said.

"They'd think you were crazy,"she said.

"Why?"he said.

Catharine took a deep breath,made a speech."Let me say that I'm deeply honored by this crazy thing you've done,"she said."I can't believe you're really A.W.O.L., but maybe you are.I can't believe you really love me,but maybe you do.But--"

"I do,"said Newt.

"Well,I'm deeply honored,"said Catharine,"and I'm very fond of you as a friend,Newt,extremely fond--but it's just too late."She took a step away from him. "You've never even kissed me,"she said,and she protected herself with her hands."I don't mean you should do it now.I just mean this is all so unexpected.I haven't got the remotest idea of how to respond."

"Just walk some more,"he said."Have a nice time."

They started walking again.

"How did you expect me to react?" she said.

"How would I know what to expect?"he said."I've never done anything like this before."

"Did you think I would throw myself into you arms?"she said.

"Maybe,"he said.

"I'm sorry to disappointed you,"she said.

"I'm not disappointed,"he said."I wasn't counting on it.This is very nice,just walking."

Catharine stopped again."You know what happens next?"she said.

"Nope,"he said.

"We shake hands,"she said."We shake hands and part friends,"she said."That's what happens next."

Newt nodded."All right,"he said."Remember me from time to time.Remember how much I love you."

Involuntarily,Catharine burst into tears.She turned her back to Newt,looked into the infinite colonnade of the woods.

"what does that mean?"said Newt.

"Rage!"said Catharine.she clenched her hands."You have no right--"

"I had to find out,"he said.

"If I'd loved you,"she said,"I would have let you know before now."

"You would?"he said.

"Yes,"she said.She faced him,looked up at him,her face quite red."You would have known,"she said.

"How?"he said.

"You would have seen it,"she said."Would aren't very clever at hiding it."

Newt looked closely at Catharine's face now.To her distress,she realized that what she had said was true,that a woman couldn't hide love.

Newt was seeing love now.

And he did what he had to do.He kissed her.

"You're hell to get along with!"she said when Newt let her go.

"I am?"said Newt.

"You shouldn't have done that,"she said.

"You didn't like it?"he said.

"What did you expect,"she said--"wild,abandoned passion?"

"I keep telling you,"he said,"I never know what's going to happen next."

"We say good-by,"she said.

He frowned slightly."All right,"he said.

she made another speech."I'm not sorry we kissed,"she said."That was sweet.We should have kissed,we've been so close.I'll always remember you,Newt,and good luck."

"You too,"he said.

"Thank you,Newt,"she said.

"Thirty days,"he said.

"What?"she said.

"Thirty days in the stockade,"he said--"that's what one kiss will cost me."

"I--I'm sorry,"she said,"but I didn't ask you to go A.W.O.L."

"I know,"he said.

"You certainly don't deserve any hero's reward for doing something as foolish as that,"she said.

"Must be nice to be a hero,"said Newt."Is Henry Stewart Chasens a hero?"

"He might be,if he got the chance,"said Catharine.She noted uneasily that they had begun to walk again.That farewell had been forgotten.

"You really love him?"he said.

"Certainly I love him!"she said hotly."I would not marry him if I didn't love him!"

"What's good about him?"said Newt.

"Honestly!"she cried,stopping again."Do you have any idea how offensive you're being?Many,many,many things are good about Henry!Yes,"she said,"and many, many,many things are probably bad too.But that isn't any of your business.I love Henry,and I don't have to argue his merits with you!"

"Sorry,"said Newt.

"Honestly!"said Catharine.

Newt kissed her again.He kissed her again because she wanted him to.

They were now in a large orchard.

"How did we get so far from home,Newt?"said Catharine.

"One foot in front of the other--through leaves,over bridges,"said Newt.

"They add up--the steps,"she said.

Bells rang in the tower of the school for the blind nearby.

"School for the blind,"said Newt.

"School for the blind,"said Catharine.She shook her head in drowsy wonder."I've got to go back now,"she said.

"Say good-by,"said Newt.

"Every time I do,"said Carharine,"I seem to get kissed."

Newt sat down on the close-cropped grass under an apple tree."Sit down,"he said.

"No,"she said.

"I won't touch you,"he said.

"I don't believe you,"she said.

She sat down under another tree,twenty feet away from him.She closed her eyes.

"Dream of Henry Stewart Chasens,"he said.

"What?"she said.

"Dream of your wonderful husband-to-be,"he said.

"All right,I will,"she said.She closed her eyes tighter,caught glimpses of her hus- band-to-be.

Newt yawned.

The bees were humming in the trees,and Catharine almost fell asleep.When she opened her eyes she saw that Newt really was asleep.

He began to snore softly.

Catharine let Newt sleep for an hour,and while he slept she adored him with all her heart.

The shadows of the apple trees grew to the east.The bells in the tower of the school for the blind rang again.

"Chick-a-dee-dee-dee,"went a chickadee.

Somewhere far away an automobile starter nagged and failed,nagged and failed, fell still.

Catharine came out from under her tree,knelt by Newt.

"Newt?"she said.

"H'm?"he said,He opened his eyes.

"Late,"she said.

"Hello,Catharine,"he said.

"Hello,Newt,"she said.

"I love you,"he said.

"I know,"she said.

"Too late,"she said.

He stood,stretched groaningly."A very nice walk."he said.

"I thought so,"she said.

"Part company here?"he said.

"Where will you go?"she said.

"Hitch into town,turn myself in,"he said.

"Good luck,"she said.

"You too,"he said."Marry me,Catharine?"

"No,"she said.

He smiled,stared at her hard for a moment,then walked away quickly.

Catharine watched him grow smaller in the long perspective of shadows and trees, knew that if he stopped and turned now,if he called to her,she would run to him.She would have no choice.

Newt did stop.He did turn.He did call."Catharine,"he called.

She ran to him, put her arms around him, could not speak.

The Cross in My Forehead (Ash Wednesday Reflection)

A simple reminder to me about who I am.
It tells me that I am dust,
I am nothing on my own and into dust I will return.
This cross reminds me that I deserve to be labelled such --
worn to dust and dirt.
If only for a day
or until the ashes fade,
I carry this label
on my forehead, remembering
WHO I AM -- that I am weak,
fragile and capable of being lost in sin, even in great sin,
and I need to be saved.

The cross of ashes on my forehead...

A simple reminder to me about whose I am.
It reminds me that I am precious,
marked by a God so good, no one could touch me.
I may be nothing on my own but
I can be everything with God.
I carry this mark which tells me that I have the mark of God.
I was made by Him,
I came from Him,
and to Him I shall return.
If only for a day
or until the ashes fade,
I carry this mark on my forehead, remembering
WHOSE I am -- that I am God's,
I belong to Him.

The cross of ashes on my forehead...

A simple reminder to me not only about who I am
and whose I am
but who God is.
He sacrificed a great deal
just to tell me that He loves me
and willing allowed Himself
to labelled like me,
to be humiliated and crucified,
to be disowned by His people.
So that who I am
may precisely be redeemed
and owned by Him.
As the wears on
or at least until the ashes fade,
I carry this sign on my forehead,
remembering WHO GOD IS -- a God who loves,
no matter what it takes.

A Mellow Heart Facing Bitternes

Yesterday at the office I received a text message from a friend that goes like this "it's better if the person you love is happy with someone else that lonely with you. For most it's called sacrifice, but for me it's... PAKINGSHET!" I laughed and texted her again, and I asked... "Bitter Ocampo is that you?!?!"

I came across with a male friend the other day who had a trouble with his wife. They had a big fight the other night, and somehow that continued to affect him. It wasn't his fault, according to him. But then again, I could feel the resentment and anger where reconciliation is a remote possibility.He feels instantly a door begins to close inside of him, his warmth and trust harden, and he feels the need to protect himself, assert some independence from his wife, and let him know that there are aspects of his life that she doesn't necessarily know about either. Their intimacy, so warm and trusting just minutes before, dissolves for a while into a certain coolness and distance. What's happened here?

What's happened is what happens to all of us, spontaneously and daily, in virtually all of our relationships, particularly with those with whom we are most intimate. Such is our emotional metaphysics, the way our hearts try to protect themselves: We tend spontaneously to replicate the energy we feel around us and feed it back in the same way as we feel it.

Quite simply, whenever we feel warmth, mellowness, vulnerability, transparency, generosity, trust, and big-heartedness in a relationship, we tend to respond in kind, with warm, mellow, vulnerable, transparent, generous, trusting hearts. But the reverse is also true: When we feel coldness, bitterness, self-protection, jealousy, dishonesty, pettiness, or distrust, we tend to become cool, hard, self-protective, assertive, small-hearted, and distrustful.

It's not easy not to do this. More than anything else, our hearts crave the warmth and trust of intimacy, but, precisely because these make us vulnerable, are hearts also tend to close doors rather quickly at the first signs of betrayal, distrust, or dishonesty.

Fear, especially, tends to do this to us. Most of our fears and anxieties arise out of a lack of confidence, from a poor self-image. Then, because we are insecure, we to try to assert ourselves, to prove that we are loveable, attractive, talented, and worthwhile. When we are afraid, we can't risk vulnerability, instead we try to do things to show that we aren't weak or needy. But, to do this, we have to harden ourselves precisely against the type of vulnerability that invites others into our lives.

Jealousy, especially of a person we love but whose love we can't have, also creates that same hardness in us. That's why we can be caught up in that strange anomaly where we are cold, distant, and perhaps even hostile, to a person whose love we badly want. Our coldness and feigned indifference towards that person is simply the heart's attempt to protect itself, to cope with an intimacy it can't have and the loss of self-esteem that comes with that.

The heart has its reasons, even for turning cold.

Given the truth of this, what makes for a truly big heart is the strength to resist this emotional metaphysics and remain mellow, warm, trusting, and present to others in the face of bitterness, coldness, distrust, jealousy, and withdrawal. More than anything else, this is what defines a great lover.

This is perhaps the greatest moral challenge Jesus left us: We all do pretty well in love when the persons we are loving are warm and gracious, but can we be gracious and mellow in the face of bitterness, jealousy, hatred, withdrawal? That's the litmus test of love.

It's also one of the deeper invitations towards maturity. Everywhere in our world - in our most intimate relationships, in our families, in our workplaces, in our churches, and in society as a whole - we forever find ourselves in situations where we meet suspicion, jealousy, coldness, distrust, bitterness, and withdrawal. Our world is often a hard, rather than an intimate, place.

The challenge is to offer a heart that creates a space for warmth, transparency, mellowness, vulnerability, and trust inside of hard places. The challenge is to offer our hearts as a space within which people can be honest, where nobody has to assert herself, where no games of pretense need be played, and where intimacy isn't held hostage to the momentary fears, jealousies, hurts, and emotional acting out that forever assail us.

And, the more bitter and the more emotionally trying the situation, the more this is needed. When times are bitter, angry, cold, full of disrespect, and fraught with jealousy, when it seems everyone is withdrawing into his or her own world, when most everything seems a lie, and when we are feeling most hurt, taken for granted, slighted, and marginalized, what's called for is not less, but more, attention to the quality of graciousness and warmth within our response. Bitter times call for, precisely, a deeper response of warmth, mellowness, transparency, truth, and compassion.

What's needed most in a bitter time is a mellow heart.

Have a meaningful Hearts Day!

Saranggola

Ako'y saranggolang
katha mo sa tingting at plastik
tangan mo sa kurdong
diniktan mo ng bubog.

Nilikha mo upang
ilarga't ilayo sa iyo.
Mas mabuting nasa langit
(nasa alanganin)
upang makita ng lahat
ang nais mo sa akin:
ang mapansin ng iba
pumadpad kung saan dapat.

Ngunit nakaliliyo sa itaas
habang sakal-sakal ako ng
kadenang bubog na natutunan kong tiisin
'pagkat ito lamang ang tanging
makapagdurugtong sa atin.

Ako'y hamak na saranggolang
katha mo sa tingting at plastik.
Konting ganda, konting halaga
ngunit patuloy na pinamamayagpag
kasama ang mga mas tikas
sa himpapawid.

Kung sa bagay
ayan lamang ako sa iyo
pagtanga't pag-ukid mong
aliping susunod sa amo.

Kahit mabali ang likod ko
ilalaban, kahit mahirap magtagumpay
ngunit sa maling igwas
ng iyong kamay...

Mapipigtas ang pising
minanhid ako
(ngunit pilit kinapitan)
Babagsak, sasaludsod sa lupa
una'y ulo
bali ang likod,
gula-gulanit ang katawan.

At sa aking kamatayan,
sa huling kamalayan
noon ko lang napag-isip-isip
di ka pala marunong
magpalipad ng saranggola.

Separate Ways

(written for someone in the past)

The landscape is just not big enough
for both of us, I see.
You go that way, I go mine.
With separate maps we shall not
pay gut thread behind us.
We'll arrive at the same places,
perhaps use the same paths and turnings,
separately lured by the same
primordial amplitudes and silences we love.
Pinnacles, bedrock, harbor heads,
cliff dwellings, tumbleweed hinterlands,
waterfalls, canyons and forests
will wound us with the grit
and hesitancies of impermanence.
At the end of the road
when we come across each other
again, we'll have stories to inflict
on the other without delay.
We shall drink to each other's absence
We shall leave no stone unturned,
spare no momentous and take no compliments.
We shall leave the feeling between us
a howling wilderness.
We'll be at a loss for words, love,
but we shall have peace.

Finding Love

(to all the single ladies... and gentlemen. Love is definitely not in the air... it is in the heart. hahaha!)

Sometimes, it seems that it would take us an eternity to find a lasting relationship. It is easy to fall in love but keeping the fire burning is a different story. For a hundred and different reasons, the glow and the excitement of the first few episodes of a seemingly perfect relationship can unexpectedly turn dark and cold. And soon, the sparks fade and people will just find themselves falling out of love.

Unfortunately, there is no sure-fire formula to enduring relationships. We wouldn't know exactly if it would work unless we get ourselves into it. And indulging our emotions seriously into heart matters can have serious repercussions when the love that we thought will stay forever changes its course and leaves us.

Not having an engagement ring doesn't make you a loser. That tiny gold clad in your finger cannot guarantee happiness. And sometimes, finding the right person doesn't always make us happy either. Remember, we should not expect others to make us happy for we can experience it even if we are all by ourselves. Real happiness is a state of mind and flows from within our hearts and not from others.

Don't think that you have had enough after so many failed relationships. Others have been through more frustrating failures than that. Having gone through those things in one piece is something that you have to be thankful for. Remember, every relationship, successful or not, is always a learning experience. After each recovery, we come out as a better knowing person. We learn to experience that pain will hurt us but we will also learn to understand that pain will teach us to become stronger persons.

We don't have to give up. The curtains of love will not close on you at 28, or even 31 or 40 perhaps. Believe me, there will be a right person who will come your way again. He/she wouldn't be what we have expected but he/she would be someone better than the previous and someone who would love you as you deserve. You just have to trust that God always has a better reason for making us suffer, though sometimes it is really hard to fathom. Do not count and think of your shattered dreams for you will lose focus on things that are more important. Remember , it shouldn't matter how many times we love and lose our balance, what should matter is how many times we get up after each fall and learn to trust and love again.