The Power Of One

One song can spark a moment,
One flower can wake the dream.
One tree can start a forest,
One bird can herald spring.
One smile begins a friendship,
One handclasp lifts a soul.
One star can guide a ship at sea,
One word can frame the goal.
One vote can change a nation,
One sunbeam lights a room.
One candle wipes out darkness,
One laugh will conquer gloom.
One step must start each journey,
One word must start each prayer.
One hope will raise our spirits,
One touch can show you care.
One voice can speak with wisdom,
One heart can know what's true.
One life can make the difference,
You see it's up to YOU!!!
- Anonymous

OFTEN during our lowest moments, we ponder at how insignificant we are in the huge scheme of creation, at how worthless and helpless we feel against the raging tide of hardship and misfortune. Can one so-called life make a difference?


We tell ourselves in periods of philosophical rumination – what am I but a solitary soul, a tiny fragment in a colossal hole, inconsequential and immaterial, passing and fleeting like shadows in the dark?


Indeed, we are, somehow or other. Set amid the vastness of space, we are smaller than a grain of sand. We are lesser than a mote in an eagle’s eye. We come into this world alone, and we go away alone.


But then again, small and alone isn’t really such a lonely place to be. Small and alone, we can do many things. Meaningful things. Priceless things. Momentous things. Things that matter in the greater realm, without which the pieces won’t fit, the picture won’t be complete, the engine won’t move, the music won’t groove.


Because every single being in the universe counts – every single creature has a part to play, every single organism serves a purpose; every single crumb stands for something – a cause, a role, a tag, some value, some meaning. Every single deed happens for a reason; chance or design notwithstanding, instinct or grit aside.


One word can make or break a promise. One promise can fetch a smile. One smile can wipe away a teardrop. One teardrop can soothe a broken heart.


One thing can lead to another. One rainbow can light up a gloomy sky. One love can last forever. One ray of sunshine can do wonders for a slumbering soul.


Not a single bit is useless, rubbish, crap. More so us humans, living and breathing in the likeness and fullness of God.


Every so often, the hackneyed question ‘why am I here’ pummels our consciousness into near dejection and the more confounding conundrum ‘what am I worth’ drives us almost close to the edge. Does anyone care about how I feel, what I’m going through, if I exist at all? The self-putdown can sometimes get to that extreme, admittedly or not, it’s sad.


Yet, one person has the power to do anything and everything that he was meant for, if he believes it and toils at it.


One heroic act can spawn a hero and one hero can make a whole nation proud. One proud nation can spur positive change, if only each person will say to himself that change should start with me.


For in truth, there are no limits to what one pair of hands can do; no boundaries to what one mind can summon; no walls, ceilings and floors to what one burst of inspiration can lead to.


Fairy tales can come true, dreams can get real – soon! Or maybe later – if we treat each morning as the fresh, new day that it is, one day at a time. If we love ourselves, treat us right, remain true to the passion of the moment, yield to the whispers of our soul, and not look at ourselves like the old, worn cliché that we think we have become.

Making It Through The Rain

Rain is grace; rain is the sky condescending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life. - John Updike


INTO each life some rain must fall, some storms must pass through the dreary night, and laughter must give way to tears for a while.

Into each life some sorrow must creep in, and tribulation comes without warning – like heavy clouds weighing our spirit down, drowning us in a chasm of ambiguity and self-doubt. Darkness casts a long shadow in the ebb and flow of our existence, now and then descending to depths untold while grief unfolds, and our world just stops revolving.

Indeed, life’s cruel turns happen when we least expect them, catching us all too suddenly in a maze of hopelessness and misery, at times too deep and too brutal we don’t really know what hit us, and we can’t extricate ourselves from what we’re in no matter how hard we try.

A loved one passes away, material possessions go up in smoke, a relationship falls apart, a friendship disintegrates, a cherished dream crumbles, fortunes shift so swiftly causing us to lose not only our earthly belongings but our dignity as well, our pride and our self-respect, our sanity even, and our worth as individuals – and we struggle to cope with the dreadful reality confronting us in our face.

Surely as seasons change, upheavals beset us like the plague and our emotions become most vulnerable to the specter of loss, failure, defeat.

We suffer a death in the family and our grief is nearly immeasurable. A parent, a partner, a sibling, a relative, a close friend – their demise leaves an emptiness akin to a huge cavern with no discernible way out, and we desperately cling to memories here and there, weeping over things undone and words that would forever remain unsaid.

We endure the embarrassment of failure, of letting success slip away because of our own making, and we drift aimlessly in space for long stretches of wasted time. Chasing victory in vain can be utterly humiliating, mortifying, self-annihilating; and our beaten ego is beyond mending.

We bear the ignominy of defeat, of losing out in the game of love, life, living; and we are flustered beyond reckoning. Why me? Am I not good enough? Don’t I measure up? Someone else is worthier of one’s affection. Someone else deserves the room with a view. Someone else finished first at the race to the top. Someone else has painted the better, bigger picture. Someone else…

And so we stumble and fall into the mire of abject surrender. We flounder in a state of perpetual agony, of acute denial and senseless self-pity, and all for what? Are we any less of a person if we are only second best? Does that make us of inferior species if the one we love has left us for another? Do we label ourselves a loser if we get crushed in one battle when there are still many wars that lie in wait?

Like rain that nourishes a parched earth, so does suffering strengthen a beleaguered soul.

The weight of all our fears brings us to our knees in meek supplication, and we look up to the heavens for a reprieve, a respite, an unloading. We realize that we can after all seek solace from a Greater Power; that we can reach out, open our heart and cast our burdens upon The One who walks through life with us, if we only make the effort. That we can emerge from it scarred but unbroken, vanquished but unbowed, wiser but not sorry, emotionally toughened and spiritually enriched and physically ready to face the world again, through our own resolve.

Adversity teaches us a thing or two about the stuff we are made of that we didn’t know existed, and our capacity to overcome the odds that we didn’t know we possessed. It allows us to look within ourselves, deep down inside our often superficial selves, and by so doing, recognize where to draw strength and when to draw the line, where to find comfort and when to stop searching for answers, where to give vent and when to say enough is enough, life must go on…

For, indeed, life goes on whether we get back on our feet or stay stuck in our own cradle of nails and thorns. Sooner or later, another storm will pass our way anew and when it happens, are we prepared to steer our ship to safer waters? Do we set sail or do we take cover? Do we drop anchor or do we move on? Do we give in, back down, pull out – or do we hold on, stand firm, push through?

No matter, no one is to blame for the turmoil that we go through every so often in this cycle that we call life. There are no excuses, no alibis. No guarantees they won’t happen again, no reasons why. For as the poet Longfellow famously intoned a long time ago – thy fate is the common fate of all; into each life some rain must fall.

When Love Is Gone

Ah, when to the heart of man was it ever less than a treason to go with the drift of things to yield with a grace to reason and bow and accept at the end of a love or a season. - Robert Frost

WHAT happens when love dies? When love fades away and leaves the heart torn to shreds? When it runs out of steam and furtively flies out the window?

The world ends. The sun stops shining. The sea stops rushing to shore. Sleep won’t come. The tears won’t dry up. Breathing is difficult. Life sucks. Totally.

When love dies, nothing else matters but the pain we feel inside, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Our whole being is tattered into a million bits and pieces, like glass shards piercing malleable flesh or sticks and stones breaking brittle bones. And we die a million deaths, as well.

We wrap ourselves in a jarring web of excruciating emotions – anger, despair, self-pity, denial, hatred, jealousy, misery, resentment, bitterness – name it, nothing but the darkest thoughts and feelings inhabit the innermost sanctum of our hopelessly broken existence. We stumble into long spells of weeping and gnashing, and take to the pill or the bottle to make us fall into liberating slumber.

Why did it happen? How could it happen? What went wrong? Where did it all go? Who’s to blame? The questions come like heavy lashes to the psyche, inflicting more soreness to a bleeding gash, heaping more cruelty to a badly battered wound. And the answers never come; they just lay there rooted at the core of our humanity – festering, blistering, burning our fragile egos at the stake.

We sink deeper and deeper into an abyss of our own making. We float in limbo made horrible by our own irrational creation. Logic deserts us, and reason takes a wrong turn. Sanity goes over the edge, and levity becomes a strange word. What if everything spins completely out of control? What if the spirit succumbs, and the only option that dwells in the feeble mind is the painless, spineless way out…

Would it be worth it? Would one person be worth all the aggravation? Why… are they cast in precious, irreplaceable stone? Do they ride on golden chariots and walk the earth in purple robes? So what if they are, if they do?

The trouble with loving someone is that we put them on a pedestal. We make them the be-all of our days and nights that they shouldn’t be. We treat them like the ruler of our lives that they aren’t supposed to be. We take them into our world unconditionally; and when it ends all too suddenly, everything around us crumbles. We fall apart, we drift away, we go astray, we refuse to go on living.

Worse, we blame other people for the madness that we ourselves commit. We point accusing fingers at those whom we perceive to have aggrieved us. We plant the seeds of rancor in our utterly vengeful hearts. We can’t deal with the fact that, if it was a game, we lost it – deservedly or not. And even if others will commiserate with us, they will never be able to fill the enormous void within. Not in a million years.

But then again, maybe it was bound to happen. Maybe it was written in the stars that they were not the right person for us. Maybe someone out there waits somewhere – someone more engaging, still flawed but definitely less aggravating and worthier of our trust. Who knows?

So one fine day, common sense returns and we snap out of it. The rain has stopped. The storm has passed. Look at all the colors now, the sun is out at last. A new song plays in our head. The dark bubble shrouding us has burst. The load is off our chest. We can breathe again.

We forgive, and ask for forgiveness, one way or another. Then we try hard to forget, and to move on. Because love does not keep a record of wrongs. It is patient and kind and is happy with the truth. It does not forever reside in achy, breaky, thorny places. It seeks a new expression in its own unhurried moment; an altogether different level, however one looks at it, this time freer and more meaningful. A tad less vexing and tiresome, a bit more spirited and at ease, gradually nurturing and enriching the soul.

Pain, though, is a necessary evil. It inures us to the possibility of being messed up anew, of committing the same mistakes over and over. Love’s labors make us learn a thing or two about facing up to aggression and hurt, of coping and surviving and emerging out of it in one piece; about thinking while feeling, and not letting pride get in the way of emancipating all the heaviness and spite stifled deep inside.

When love goes, it comes back again and again to turn our lives upside down, inside out – like a fierce cycle of hits and misses, trials and errors, twists and turns, comings and goings, to and fro, hither and thither, yonder and further away. It may take years, or a lifetime, to get over one hump after another – but does it matter? Sooner or later, we might find what we’re looking for – or we might not – but in the final analysis, we are definitely better off for having loved and lost than never having loved at all.

FIRST CRUISE

On life’s vast ocean diversely we sail ; Reasons the card, but passion the gale. - Alexander Pope



‘IT’S not far down to paradise,’ that hopeful song about sailing goes. ‘And if the wind is right you can sail away, and find tranquility…’


Tranquility, indeed – and joy; the thrill of a new adventure, the giddiness of a first time happening, a gleeful sense of anticipation over a dream vacation come true. Daybreaks and sunsets at sea. Islets glimmering in the horizon. Untainted air. Moonlit evenings. Peaceful mornings. An endless canvas of sky blue and ocean green. Swooning to the rhythm of waves kissing the hull of a beautiful boat bound for… paradise?


Nah, just China. Xiamen, to be exact. But that’s not saying there is no pleasure in the destination. While the boat – Star Cruises’ Super Star Aquarius – is as lovely as ‘love boats’ go, Xiamen is the nearest there is to an oasis of clean and leisurely living in this side of old world enchantment.


But first, the ship. There is something about cruising that makes one equate it in a sense with romance, though, more than anything, one feels a rather curious intimacy with Nature. The milieu appeals to the dreaminess of it all – sounds and sights so far removed from the dreariness of everyday concrete and steel. ‘Love Boat’ – or the notion of it – is indeed altogether a different world!


Traveling by sea has its own fascination. On an airplane, one looks down at the clouds below, at the dots of white on an emerald swathe, at firefly-like flecks under a pretty night sky. But on a ship, one looks up. In wonder and amazement at the beauty of all creation. At the miracle of sun and sea, moon and stars, mountains and valleys, rivers and streams, land and people. And one is reminded of the puniness of man, and the greatness of The One Up There who made everything down here.


To someone taking their very first cruise, SS Aquarius provides just the right dose of initiation to the sea, so to speak. It doesn’t come on as too huge as to get constantly lost in a maze of aisles and cabins, or to be too overwhelmed by its sheer immensity. Neither is it too small as to feel it swaying here and there from restive waters.


Cliché though it may sound, the luxury liner’s three-day, two-night cruise to Xiamen out of Hong Kong, however short it is, affords the stressed-out workaday struggler the chance to get away from it all – to relax, unwind, recharge, let the hair down, make new friends, think nothing and do nothing but laze around, take in the scenery, shoot the breeze, eat and eat.


There are a million and one things to do on board there is absolutely no time to get bored. The ship entertains you, from the moment you embark until you get off, almost reluctantly. The crew never runs out of smiles or a cheerful greeting. The schedule of activities will leave you breathless – for lots of choices and lack of time.


Face painting, coconut bowling, line dancing. Piano serenades, live bands, karaoke singing. Pool games, jackpot bingo, afternoon movies. Body stretching, kung fu demonstrations, magic shows. Table tennis, production numbers, card games. Aerobics, jogging, swimming. Work out at the gym. Get a massage at the spa. Play slot machines at the casino. Hit the golf driving range. Take a dip at the Jacuzzi. Shop at the souvenir store. Join teambuilding exercises.


And the food, heaps of glorious food all there for the taking. Chinese sit-down at Dynasty, international buffet at Mariners, Asian specialties at Spices, outdoor barbecue at Oceana. Fruits and sweets galore. Coffee and tea all you want…


Alone time? Just a little. When you retire at night and wake up in the morning. And that’s when you contemplate on the comfort that the ship’s stately rooms offer – hot shower, cable TV, hair dryer, toiletries and amenities, spacious closet, safety deposit box, queen-size bed, a sitting room beside the floor-to-ceiling window where you look out at the breathtaking seascape passing before your eyes. It’s a veritable five-star hotel out there on the high seas…


And what of the shore excursion at Xiamen? China’s ‘window city’ allows the sightseer to take a glimpse of what the erstwhile Sleeping Giant is all about. Even as it reeks of progress and prosperity, there is no mistaking the traditions still steeped deep in its pristine environment cloaked in the hum and hustle of its modern incarnation. It will take more than a whirlwind stop to fully appreciate its evident charms and explore its ancient history. Like its motherland, Xiamen is an enigma waiting to be unraveled.

HAPPINESS IS...

Happiness resides not in possessions, and not in gold; happiness dwells in the soul. - Democritus


HAPPINESS IS…

… A glass of milk and a jar of cookies. And a good book to nuzzle in a comfy chair on a rainy day. What better way to appreciate bed weather than be safely ensconced in one’s own comfort zone with no worries in the world other than what is at arm’s length…the last cookie in the cookie jar.


… A rendezvous at the spa. Getting a foot scrub, a therapeutic massage, an earth facial. Hanging back at the sauna room, lingering at the tub, thoroughly pampering the body and relaxing the mind. Indulging in a little extravagance, giving in to a few spontaneous cravings, freeing the wits from the excruciating grind of day after day.


… A celebration. Cold cuts and warm hugs. Wolf Blass and Misty crooning. Sweet thoughts and animated chats. Laughter, bubbly and sparkling. Blowing candles and sounding trumpets amid people who mean the world. Raising toasts and drinking to fond wishes. Feeling brand new all over again.


… A warm and fuzzy feeling. A hug, a snuggle, a caress. The giddy flush of a budding romance creeping into our being. Sweet nothings that bring a tingle in the spine, tender mercies that make the senses run wild.


… A joy ride. A spin around on a carousel or the Ferris wheel. A cruise on a river boat or a lake canoe. A run across town on a bicycle pedaling your heart away or piggy-backing on a motorbike. A drive along the countryside, taking in all the specks of green and just letting your hair fly with the wind. The joy is indeed in the ride.


… A makeover. A new hairdo, a new wardrobe, a new strut, a new attitude. Or a nose job, perhaps; an implant where it matters, a slight stretching of some facial muscles (botox, anyone?), a nip here, a tuck there – to boost one’s self-confidence and stoke the ego a little. Move over, old warts, here comes the new and improved neighborhood hottie!


… A bowl of hot chicken broth. To drive away the bug of affliction. A dose of gentle loving care from people near and dear. Bundling up in their safe, affectionate embrace. Holding on to the promise of better things to come.


… A surprise. A pat in the back for a job well done. A favor from a friend. A smile from a stranger. A compliment from someone we’ve only just met. A card from out of the blue. A poem written specially for you.



HAPPINESS IS…


… Looking at old photographs. Reliving the little moments of times gone by captured in living color or in foggy black and white. Scanning albums filled with cheerful faces and familiar places in all their glossy splendor. Summoning wistful thoughts and dormant memories, evoking fragments of time and space that will never come again.


… Holding the hand of a child. To make them feel safe when they’re learning to make the first stride. To make them feel protected when they start to venture into the world outside – kindergarten school, Sunday church, the park, the mall, the circus, the house next door. When they decide to walk the walk, talk the talk, make the break, go for broke.


… Wiggling into an old pair of jeans. And finding out that it still fits. Ha! Doesn’t it pay to eat a little and exercise a lot?


… Breaking a sweat. Taking the time to stretch the limbs and flex the muscles, to limber up and pump adrenaline. Burning the dance floor to the beat of rhythmic music till the knees give in. Walking a mile in rubber-soled shoes, briskly or leisurely, till the heart beats a little faster and the temple throbs a little friskier.


… Walking barefoot. On the seashore, on the grass, on the pavement, around the house. Touching the ground, rubbing calloused feet on solid earth, feeling cold stone or warm sand, treading on damp lawn or soft rug, just gliding along with a song and a smile in the heart.


… Catching up on house chores. Fixing the closet, rearranging the furniture, changing the sheets, wiping soil off table tops, sweeping away the cobwebs that have been lingering in the fringes of our nearly moldy existence. Spring cleaning doesn’t have to wait for the next winter.


… Catching up on our reading. Devouring tomes that have been lying unopened for years gathering dust in the bookshelves. Paperbacks yellowed with time, pages brittled by indifference. Atlas Shrugged, East of Eden, The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter, Love In The Time Of Cholera, The Book of Job…


… Learning a new skill. In the kitchen concocting something other than fried stuff – baking a cake, whipping up the ideal pasta, inventing dishes yummy enough to show off. Or a hobby both relaxing and productive – doing the cross-stitch, surfing the Internet, taking up photography, playing a musical instrument, writing the movie in our mind.


… Finding a friend. Meeting new acquaintances and reconnecting with old ones. Basking in the excitement of getting to know someone, roosting in the affection of old but not wasted pals, rekindling flames of long ago. The gift of friendship is precious and few like seconds shared to last through intertwined lifetimes. Sure beats staring at the clouds in your coffee all day...


… Finding what you’ve been looking for. A lost piece from the glory days, priceless no doubt because of the sentiment attached to it. A thing of value that we’ve always wanted to have but couldn’t, for one reason or another. A part of our lives that’s been missing, perhaps made nonexistent by choice but more probably by circumstance, traveling the distance but not really knowing which way to go and what we are actually in search of. A material possession, an object of desire, a purpose in life? One best friend, one perfect moment, one true love to last a lifetime?

More Lessons

In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life. It goes on.
- Robert Frost

I HAVE LEARNED THAT…

… Success is not permanent and failure is not incurable. Don’t rest on your laurels and don’t cry over spilt milk. Like everything else in this material world, whatever we go through today – win or lose, happy or sad – will be over tomorrow, whether we like it or not.

… Things are not always what they seem. A book should not be judged by its cover, or a person by the clothes he wears. There are diamonds in the rough waiting to be polished, and ugly ducklings have the inherent potential to transform themselves into swans.

… Silent waters run deep, and they forebode either profundity or peril. What lies beneath the surface may astound or confound, bewitch or bewilder, inspire goose bumps or raise alarm bells. A man who doesn’t say a lot knows a lot, or he may be carrying a stick.

… Respect is earned, not solicited. It is bestowed upon you without asking for it, if you deserve it. Demanding respect is totally inappropriate, neither is it the way to achieve it.

… Flattery will get you nowhere, but honesty has its own just rewards. Insincerity rings hollow, and hypocrisy is an annoyance. Being true to oneself, no matter how humbling, can be invigorating; truthfulness might be a lonesome task, but lying is far more pathetic.

… What goes out of our mouth comes from our heart, and more often than not, they defile rather than honor another. From our hearts emanate thoughts of love or hatred, good or evil, compassion or cruelty, understanding or revenge. Idle talk often turns into gossip, and back talk is the most deceitful act of all.

… Beauty is all in the eye of the beholder. It may be skin-deep, or it may radiate from within. It is ephemeral because it fades in time, but it can be everlasting when nurtured with a gentle heart.

… While it is nice to have money, it isn’t everything. It should only be the means to an end, not the end in itself; as one moment you have it, another moment it’s gone. It may be the root of all evils but it can also be an instrument for good.

… Mothers always know best, give much, take little, love greatly, suffer a lot. They know it when you are in trouble, they feel it when you are in pain; they make life easier for us, in their own inimitable way, without fanfare, without thanks. Yes, God couldn’t be everywhere, so He created mothers.

… The wheels of fortune are never constant; they grind unpredictably, at times so exceedingly slow. What goes up must come down, what comes in must go out – in the wink of an eye, in a wave of the hand. Because what the Lord gives, He also takes away.

… Everyone has their own 15 minutes of fame, their own time in the spotlight, their own place in the morning sun. Better seize the moment when it comes for there might not be a second helping. The ice cream on your plate melts, and it doesn’t taste the same.

… Kids do declare the darnedest things. Straight from the mouths of babes often burst forth the most outrageous but philosophically sensible statements – innocent remarks that make us laugh until we cry because they hit close to home, often at our expense. Who says wisdom is the consequence of age?

… Genuine style doesn’t scream for attention, and simplicity is almost an anomaly in this era of excess. One’s true colors will shine through, for better or worse, effortlessly, naturally. Empty cans rattle the noisiest, and loudness is terribly unbecoming.

… Greed is the scourge of the weak in spirit. Is humanity’s thirst for the riches of this earth insatiable, the lust for power and renown unquenchable? But what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and suffers the loss of his own soul?

… Laughter is indeed the best medicine and music is the best cure for stress. Laughter that erupts from the bowels of your soul is always music to the ears, and music that stimulates the senses inspires a cloudburst of hope and deliverance. It is a beautiful world, why sulk?

… If there’s a will, there’s a way. From rock bottom, there is a path that leads to the mountain top, and though the path be long and narrow, it eventually leads you there. Persist in spite of hindrances, persevere in the face of hopelessness.

… The glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we stumble. Never quit, your turn will come, don’t be afraid to not succeed. For a virtuous man falls many times, and gets up again and again…

… When the sun shines, it shines for everyone. All men are created equal, and opportunities flourish for those who have the strength of mind and muscle to take them all in. No pain, no gain; nothing ventured, nothing attained.

LESSONS

Life is like playing a violin in public and learning the instrument as one goes on. - Samuel Butler


I HAVE LEARNED THAT…

… All rivers flow to the sea, yet the sea is not full! Life is a work in progress, and knowledge is infinite. The more we learn about things, the more we discover that we actually know nothing about anything.

… Most of the things we need to know, we learned in kindergarten. The ABC’s and 123’s; good manners and right conduct; faith, hope and charity; the love and fear of God; fixing a hole, mending a sock; crossing the street on our own. The values we were taught at our mother’s feet, we carry with us through life.

… If it is to be, it is up to me. I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul. What I make of myself depends on me, because God only helps those who help themselves.

… What is essential is invisible to the eye, it is only the heart that can see ever so rightly. The heart knows what the mind cannot conjure, and feels what the body can only endure. It understands without reservation and accepts without conditions – with no questions asked and no quarters taken.

… Everyone deserves a second chance. An unfaithful partner, an errant child, a disloyal friend, a recalcitrant foe. A shot in the arm, another stab at romance, a fresh opportunity to pick up the pieces and make something of one’s self, to bask in new-fangled freedoms and relish little successes.

… Beautiful hands are hands that do. They are not afraid to get soiled from menial toil, or get ravaged by constant turmoil. Calloused by struggles, inured by pain, hardened by adversity, but strengthened and toughened by it all.

… Little things mean a lot. A smile, a hug, a pat in the back, a rainbow in the sky, a song in the air, a letter from a friend, a voice from miles away, an old photograph, a cup of coffee, a good book, a new dress, a ray of sunshine, a drop of rain. They summon a tear or bring on some cheer and make a moment last forever.

… What soap is for the body, tears are for the soul. They cleanse, they purge, they wash away inner hurts, untold miseries, shattered dreams, broken spirits. Crying is oftentimes liberating, healing and invigorating.

… People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges. No man is an island unto himself. He needs people and people need him.

… Love is wonderful when it is real, when it is true. When it is light and easy, not a heavy load to carry. When it is free and breathy, not consuming or controlling.

… There’s no such thing as a free lunch, a free ride, or a free ticket to the opera. Every perk has a price tag, a string attached, a catch somewhere, a pay back at some later time. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours, and the circumstances often are not pretty.

… For everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the heaven. There is a time to win and a time to lose, a time to speak up or to hold one’s peace, a time to yield or to move forward, to leave it be or live and let live. Things happen, for a reason, in God’s own perfect time.

… True friends are hard to find. People walk in and out of our lives but few truly leave indelible footprints in our hearts. More often than not, the friendships that we forge in our youth are the ones that stay with us for the rest of our lives.

… What goes around comes around. Do not do unto others what you do not want others do unto you. The law of retribution will catch up with us, sooner or later, and taking flight is not an option.

… God hears even the smallest prayer. Whatever we store away in our innermost thoughts is unraveled before us one fine day as a pleasant surprise, a gift from somewhere, a bolt out of the blue. Whatever we pray for with all our heart, we get – and our soul, we lift.

… Blood is truly thicker than water. When all else fails, when no one steps forward, when the going gets rough, family steps up. They provide the shoulder to cry on, the rope to hold on to, the wind beneath our wings, our shelter from the storm.

… Good things come to those who wait. Patience is a virtue and haste makes waste. Think before you speak, look before you leap.

Without Music, What Are We?

Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing
Thanks for all the joy they're bringing
Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty
What would life be, without a song or a dance, what are we
So I say, thank you for the music, for giving it to me! ABBA

IMAGINE a world without music. A world without melodic sounds and harmonious rhythms – without songs to listen to, sing along with, dance to the beat of.

Imagine a world that knows not the cadenced beating of drums and cymbals, the tuneful blowing of trumpets and clarinets, the pulsating stream of symphonic strings, the torrent of melody produced by magical fingers over ivory keys, the wondrous resonance of vocal cords often lifting the senses to heights that cannot be described.

Imagine if musical notes were never created, lyrics were never written, instruments were never invented. Imagine if all that ever came out of the human voice were drones and moans, mumbles and grumbles, howling and wailing, gnashing and growling and snarling.

Imagine if all that we ever hear are engines roaring till kingdom come, car horns blaring like nothing, voices just ranting and rambling from all over, machines whirring and buzzing without let-up, wheels chugging on and on and on...

Would the soul have known its universal language? Would the heart have seen where to find freedom from temporary pain? Would the mind have discerned where to seek shelter from the cold, biting winds of change?

Would humanity be as human if music, as we know it now, never was?

If there were no songs of love to memorize each line, no songs of praise to raise up into the heavens, no songs of hope to bring cheer to the dejected, no songs about friendships to celebrate through thick and thin, no songs about people to dedicate to, identify with, express affection for, immortalize in stirring refrain – how sad.

How sad for the lovelorn boy yearning for the one who knocks him off his feet, while his guitar gently weeps. How sad for the lonely girl waiting in vain for Valentines that never came. How sad for the young at heart dreaming up Mona Lisa smiles, spending the hours hopelessly reminiscing.

Music provides the palliative for broken spirits in need of solace. It offers a sanctuary from the miseries of the moment, a breathing space from everyday burdens, a quick fix out of needless worry, an easy way to unwind, loosen up, calm down, chill out. It is like an oasis for barren emotions, a panacea that makes the body whole again.

If there were no songs to dance to, what a pity for the aspiring ballerina eternally struggling with fouettes and pirouettes, sweating it out to achieve that magical illusion of flight. What a pity for ballrooms everywhere empty of twirling bodies and gliding feet, of sensuous moves and bouncy steps. From simple swaying to soaring leaps and intricate strokes grooving to the beat of a rhythmic accompaniment – dance will forever be inextricably linked to music.

What of the great musical creations through the ages – DeBussy’s Clair de lune, Chopin’s Sonata in E Minor, Mendelssohn’s Wedding March, Schubert’s Ave Maria, Handel’s Messiah, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake and The Nutcracker, Rodgers and Hammerstein’s The Sound of Music and South Pacific, Lerner and Loewe’s Camelot and My Fair Lady… all timeless and enduring, awe-inspiring and soul-enriching.

And the great musicians of times gone by – Caruso, whose incredible voice and powerful range made him one of the most famous tenors in history. Wagner, whose operas allowed him to flee from personal troubles that would have brought him over the edge. Beethoven, whose deafness did not deter him from creating more concertos and sonatas that otherwise would have driven him to the abyss.

What of Santana’s breathtaking guitar playing, Dylan’s poetic songwriting, Sinatra’s inimitable crooning, Lennon and McCartney’s chart-topping deluge that changed the face of popular music, Yanni’s flights of fantasy that defy categorizing, Marley’s poignant songs of peace and redemption, Mancini’s orchestral maneuvers out of the dark – the world won’t be the same without the sweat of their genius.

What of the solo saxophone evoking sensual visions and motions, the weepy violin wailing strains of melodies unchained, the unobtrusive flute whistling a soft lullaby that wrenches the heartstrings, the wistful tambourine weaving magic all its own. What of the gongs and chimes, the drums and bugles, the mantras and bird calls, the temple bells and wooden blocks, the Gregorian chants of yore, the choir of angel voices singing prayers from hallowed halls.

Listening to the songs of our life makes us swoon like the starry-eyed youngsters we once were. It makes us fly on the wings of love up and above the clouds. It makes us shed tears for the days of wine and roses we wish would come again. It makes us smile through our fears and sorrows and gives us reason to believe that the sun will shine brightly tomorrow.

What is a world without music but a world without a soul. All concrete and steel, no flowers or sunbeams. All sound and fury, no passion and warmth. All coldness, no comfort. All darkness, no moonlight. All hell, not a sign of heaven. All gloom, not a bit of rain.

A world without music is a world without love – bereft of feelings and sensitivity, devoid of dreams and romance. For the heart speaks through it, conveying a whole gamut of emotions all at once and all too clearly – ardor, desire, bliss, longing, pleasure, despair, happiness, loneliness, emptiness, lust. And it speaks to the heart as well, in a language too beautiful to resist, too pure and simple and true, too deep but not unfathomably so.