Turning 38 - Breaths, Gasps, Cries, Laughs, and Whatever

Life is still good, no matter what happens.

Any day now I'll be a year older. Excited? No. Just thankful I've made it through 37. Thankful that my parents are still around. My brothers are healthy. My daughter's with me, happy I hope. And yes, I still have a few friends. Plus, a new "job" that allows me to stay at home and earn an income that I would never be able to earn in a week had I stayed imprisoned in either a corporate nook or an academic hole. 

 

There's nothing great about me. Please don't get me wrong. I'm just stating a fact. Perhaps, whatever great deed I've done is etched somewhere the unseen heaven. I may not have achieved such greatness, but I know that I've somehow done little good works that only souls have witnessed. 
 
The evasive happiness, minor feats, and biting reality 

Do I feel happy I'm turning 38? I don't know. I'd be lying if I say, "Yes!". But I know I'd be fooling myself had I done so.

Happiness is in the mind, like fantasy. I can either make one or not. I can choose to be happy or not. I choose hope, the undying optimism that things will be okay at the end of the bumpy road. What have I accomplished so far? Or what did I do this past year?
 
I taught for a semester in a nearby college. It would've been okay if only I had no money issues. It would've also been okay if said institution adopts total academic freedom. No set standards or rules for instructing and grading students. And yes, no backstabbing colleagues. However, all organizations have reptiles and rodents. I hate it much whenever I had to act like one in order to survive a debilitating system that can kill one's enthusiasm to live. 

What else have I done? I was able to save a small amount in a credit cooperative bank located in a nearby city. How I wish all communities in the Philippines had a functional and effective multi-purpose cooperative to help meet certain economic goals, especially in the lives of an x number of families. The real future is in community building - literally and figuratively. 

Nation-states are just fiction, same way as democracy is - fiction. The government exists as an enduring ally of the status quo and an effective agitator of the masses. There's money in conflict. There's profit from wars. Social problems legitimize political institutions. And the Church? Part of the business. What is the connection of these ideas to my turning a year older?

Turning 38 is supposed to have nurtured even an iota of wisdom about life. I cannot claim I'm wise though, but I'm more realistic this time. I still daydream, yes. But the realities of life have made me more skeptical of social institutions and their so-called purpose. They seem like prison to me. Have they helped me become a better person? Maybe, maybe not. I've got more angst though, that's for sure. But is there someone willing to listen to my woes? 

Love lost: When Mr. Right kisses the ocean floor 

I long for the day when no friend would ask me about my "love life". I don't have one, although there are people whom I dearly love. The first paragraph of this blog entry reveals who they are. But romantic love? I'd rather sleep...or eat...or watch TV...or surf the Net...or read a book. I won't deny having periodical urges, especially when my egg hormones are about to rage in my internal machine. But after addressing the urges, what happens next? 

I don't hate men. I'm just not a good "assessor" though. I often fall for the wrong kind, enough to completely decimate whatever intelligence I've got as a human being.

I used to search for one, but I got burned pretty hard that I don't wish to experience the same thing over and over again. I'd rather heal and love myself first. At this time, it's most likely run away from whoever wants more from me. I'm tired of it. Tired of the relationship game. 

At 38, I'd rather have someone with whom I could just be friends with. The non-sexual kind of love. There is such a person, but he's roaming right now and he might come around when I least expect it. I just hope he's someone I could really talk to and would never judge me. 

38 Candles 

Two more years and I'd be 20 x 2. Pretty scary. I may either still be around or I may no longer be alive and kicking. I'd rather still be breathing, gasping, crying, laughing, and whatever though. There's a lot I want to do. Thing is, I find myself gradually taking a smooth sailing towards nowhere. I know it's best to be prepared, but often times I get stalled when I do so. 

I still have time to think about what I really want to accomplish in life. All I'm certain at this point is seeing my kid graduate from college and either have a good paying job or busy running her own engineering firm. And yes, I'd want to see her happy with what she does. 

Thirty-eight seems like a good number. Hope the coming year would be more fruitful and good for my soul. I hope to still see my parents, brothers, and my kid around. I also hope to see my few friends. Likewise, I hope to see a better me.