Small Indulgences

Sometimes, I find myself bound to things that I wouldn't normally find essential.

Perhaps, to comfort my soul, I just dashed out into the garden and snipped a couple of rose blooms to put by my side-table. I sort of added a few pieces in our bedroom--a side-table here and there, and refurbished lamps. Usually, how our bedroom looks is not a priority. Surprisingly, for the last couple of months, I felt like nesting, making it cozier, more comforting. What a contented feeling it is when you like how your house looks pala!

And my books, how can I live without them? Books are perhaps my best indulgences. Even so, I don't hesitate to buy them used.




Dala na rin ng mid-life siguro--the wanting for nicer things to surround you.

Every time I glance at the roses, I feel a certain blush. Maybe it is their beauty, maybe it is the energy of the blooms. They are just pretty and that is enough to make me feel my own worth--not specifically as beautiful--but as special.



I remember my friend who wouldn't spend for clothes or shoes but will spend P80,000 for a bed. She told me, "Every time I come home to rest, I feel so happy and content."

Now I understand. Indulgences, small or big, speak to our soul, not to our whims. It is important to know and see beauty--to remind you that God is beautiful and abundant and that there is hope for whatever it is that is lacking in my life.

And now I will never judge anyone when they have flowers or grapes in their hair, or if they want to wear a red hat with beads in the noonday sun. Not that I judge, but even those who have multiple cosmetic surgery may have their own reasons we can never understand.

That is why we buy a cute blouse on sale, that is why we buy a cute pin. We want to feel special, we want to indulge a bit after living out our lives for others day in and out. I am so used to denying myself of treats, I think it has become martyr-like and pitiful.

Here is my other treat this week. I bought a floral stuffed toy. Her name is Rose.


I bought her for $3 from my neighbor, Jeanne Adams, at the last bazaar I joined. I suspect Mrs. Adams is a pillar of the community--raising funds for yarn for their knitting group. She continues to sew for charity and for the needy. I held Rose for the rest of the bazaar. I think my clutching a rose bear spurred my sales, too.

Nevertheless, I felt innocent again (felt lang?), like a child, when my grandfather used to give me whimsical pasalubongs just because, even if I did not really need them. These memories were erased by the need to be practical as adults. If you don't need it, don't buy it.

I agree, but then some. Sometimes, even if your practical self doesn't seem to need it, your spirit does.

Thus, my small indulgences. . . roses and Rose. And even if my inner critic was aghast about "useless" things, I silenced her, "Oh shut up!" And then I got to know myself a bit better.

On to bigger treats.

What could you get to lift your spirits?

Frugal Escape

My husband has found more gainful employment in Manila, after being laid off for 8 months here in the USA. All of a sudden, I am single-parenting my 5 kids. It has been quite tough even if I have devoted to them my most productive years. Mothering was my full-time career of about 20 years. If I was working in an airline, I would have life-time benefits of free travel.

Lifetime benefits of full-time motherhood are different. Though they don't seem like perks, they make up the most poignant memories I will take with me forever. First days in schools, homework, school plays, buying their underwear and socks, knowing the colors they like are things the working mother envy. Being totally there for doodling, water art, imagining and making up stories and giggling, play dough creations and attending awards after awards, with tears in your eyes (instead of a cellphone at hand), helping the binatas out of heartbreak, pointing them to the right direction exactly when they need me, are my perks I would not trade in for any promotion in an office.

Everything else was scheduled around the lives of my kids: a thriving men's wear business (was my claim to fame), career offers, writing a book, putting up a craft store, maybe a bakery, dreams of climbing mountains, traveling to exotic places, and the ever-so-bratty dream of taking 2 full months from family life, to explore internal stuff so tedious to enumerate and so many to detail.

If I were a full-time employee for 20 years, I would be CEO by now.

As a CEO mother, 20 years should entitle me to delegate lots of legwork to my staff, i.e. walking-under-the-sun field trips with my preschooler, bringing and fetching from school, homework, should be delegated to a staff which I don't have, to leave me to think of "bigger things" like planning their future or planning a family vacation.

Do you ever wonder why CEO's of a company came in when they wanted to and played golf with prospective partners? My CEO friend said, "So that we can think."

At least, CEO's and all full-time staff get 2 weeks of paid leave every year. I will guess that they spend all of it with the family they neglected. My irony is, I would like to take a 2-week leave from the family I serve every single day. On the same note, even nannies get their 2-week vacation, so why shouldn't full-time mothers do??

I am seriously considering a 2-week leave, without my husband. (Or maybe he can come along). But I crave to touch base with myself--the one with no roles--not a mother, not a wife, not a writer, or not anything that I think defines me in this life. I think my soul is undefinable and it should be nourished with a vacation of quiet, walking by a lake, reading, sleeping, meditating, crocheting--without interruption or chatting or comparing. I long for simply communing with my spirit--so worn and tired of serving everyone else.

Single-parenting was never part of my dreams. I keep telling my husband that I endure all our differences because I want us to raise the kids together. But here I am now, finding myself desperate for some personal time that disappeared when my husband left for Manila. I go to pick my kids up 20 minutes earlier so I can read in the car, with new music in the background. I park at the Church parking lot while my kids attend catechism class, and found myself taking a nap--inside the car.

I remember Mac, out driver in Manila. And how I once told him off because I caught him sleeping in the car. Now I understand that driving is a very physically tiring thing. . . and grabbing a nap at the driver's seat is quite refreshing and gas-saving.

Here I am parked outside my son's middle school 15 minutes early. I found some time to catch up on my book Something More. I also explored Carrie Underwood's music and found out I kind like country pala. This is my getaway view for the day:




I vowed to take care of myself more. In Manila, I could call for the masahista, I could go to the salon. These things are simply not within the budget here. But a movie in the movie house is, or a nice and quiet breakfast is--all while waiting for the kids to come out from school.

In between, I interview people, draw up articles for the paper. I work even on many week-ends, and I even joined a craft fair. Sometimes, I wonder, maybe I am just trying to get away from my kids, because although I love them all dearly and deeply, my soul seems to wear thin.

I must be careful not to burn out. Fifteen minutes here and there to catch my peace just doesn't fill the void but it will have to do for now. I know I am blessed but I have t stroke my spirit to really feel that right now.

In Manila, I figured, more support groups are in place there in terms of family and friends who
can linger over lunch or coffee. There is also a driver that can shuttle all the kids here and there.

And so if I have to single-parent, I would prefer to do it in Manila--where the lifestyle is easy and getaways are cheap, and a CEO mom like me would have had a wonderful and efficient staff by now, to delegate the small stuff to.

Why Write?

I will try to carve out a few minutes , when the morning is still, to get some creative writing going. After writing just assignments, chosen by someone else, I feel a bit drained and uninspired, and simply un-creative, not expressed, not connected.

Why do I write?

The book I got for a dollar--The Journey From the Center To the Page--is probably the best investment I have made for my writing this year. This book is a combination of instruction and inspiration through yoga and being aware of your body, your energy, your source. It confronts me with questions like "What are you writing for?" which I never really thought about, but somehow felt nagging within me.

Some write for the ego--they need the praise and they deflate with the criticism. Some write to express themselves. Some write to prove themselves. Some write to prove their parents right (or wrong). Some write to make sense of the world. Some to inform the world, and still some to make the world better. Some write from their core principles, exploring causes, justice, freedom, "to tell the truth," "to help others," "to hold myself together."

Essayist Jean Berstein says that she writes "because questions, voices, surface in her like splinters, and writing is the best way to pull out the really irritating ones."

The books also points the more important question: "What am I writing for?" and encourages me to answer from within me, where no other writer, professor, or reader will hear me. And to get to that place, our minds must be clear.

I don't really know why I write or what I really want to write. For that matter, I don't know why I crochet, either. It's like a painter that captures his picture but stores them in his garage. If no one reads you, did you write?

Well, let me tell you that no matter how illogical, I believe the tree that fell in the middle of the forest made a sound, even if no one heard it. . .

And so, if I wrote from the heart, should there be a reason?

Exercise Number 1: Get up a few minutes earlier. Settle your inner chatter. Sit comfortably on a chair, or you can stand in "mountain pose"--feet hip-wide apart, spine long, hands at the heart.
Just breathe. Stand or sit for 2 minutes simply listening to your breath. Make them deep and full. This is called "closing your eyes and centering your heartbeat."

Second, clarify an immediate focus for your writing--a subject or an intention to receive insight.
Listen and don't force. Just let the inspiration bubble up.

I will tell you the insights when I get to center myself.