Sage advice on love, from a 45-year-old French learner

do not have in mind the way you want the other one to be
i mean, you have your own conception of what you want, or of how "he" must be
but do you ask before to know if this kind of model already exists?

in human relation, the image is important, and what are you waiting for to... and with some little "fear" a lot of easy situations become very, very complicated!

and do not have fear to be ridiculous cause it doesn't kill

Too much rain; no more rain

I woke up to the sound of rain falling to the ground from the rooftop. I thought the water tank was overflowing, and I got up with a start, only to realize it was raining.

Now, I'm about to sleep and the raining hasn't stopped. It has been at it for at least 24 hours now, and I'm worried about December. Will it rain on New Year's Eve?

Climate change. Tsk.

***

I listened to this Paul McCartney song, Too Much Rain, because it seemed to fit the day's mood.

I'd heard this song before, when I spent some days looping Chaos and Creation In the Backyard while working. But I'd never really paid attention to the words -- until now.

Smile when you're spinning round and round
Sigh as you think about tomorrow
Make a vow that your gonna be happy again
It's all right in your life no more rain

When it's raining, because the day's gray and melancholy and all, I often find myself thinking of that time when it seemed like everything was just falling apart, and I was praying for this future to come.

And the future is now the present -- I live a rather quiet life, and every day's biggest challenge is the practice of loving people. The only romance in my life, for now, is the romance I'm having with myself.

But I miss the intensity of the feelings I felt when I was younger and a fool.

Maybe it's time I let in a drizzle?

The moon was lovely last night

My best friend called me up in the middle of the night to tell me that her former "nanny," who is actually the same age as we are, was giving birth prematurely at a hospital near the apartment.

On our way to the hospital, Jen and I we were greeted by the nearly full moon. Shining brightly beside it was Jupiter.

I took pictures with my Nokia E5, but I don't think they were very good ones. I'll post them later. For now, here's a picture of it.

Cultivate whimsy

When I was younger, in my teens, the way I wanted to live my life was clear: I wanted to be always creating beauty, free from the opinions of other people. I was blessed to have known what my passions were early: I was a writer, I wanted to make beautiful things with words. I filled my head with nuggets I held as beautiful, and it didn't matter that nobody else cared.

And then I grew up, and suddenly, there were important things to be done. Like make money, pay bills, meet deadlines, make other people happy. I wasn't living in my own bubble anymore.

I don't mind living in a bigger bubble and sharing it with many other people. What I do mind is that somehow I've allowed myself to water down my dreams as well.

Last weekend, I was part of the staff for the 151st team of OCCI's Foundations of Leadership Excellence seminar. With me were my sister Kai, who was the chief of staff; her husband Sean; Sean's brother Sam; my brother Ivan; Ivan's girlfriend Dayen; and my younger brother's girlfriend Rechelle. The 60 students we had were mostly young, like in their late teens and early 20s.

What an experience!

I handled three teens, all 17. All artists. Two were into fashion design, one was a magician. As many of the younger artists, they sounded clear about how they wanted to live their lives. They wanted to be always creating beauty.

In one module, I had to share with them my shadow, and they had to share with me their fears for me. One girl said, "My fear for you is that you will lose many more opportunities in your life." It hit me right where I needed to be hit, mainly because it had been said by someone who was 17.

At 17, the opportunities had yet to come my way. At 34, I've definitely missed many, mostly in the name of practicality and my many irrational fears.

I'm on the road to fixing that now, thanks to the weekend. I'm grateful for the gift of teachers.

A few weeks ago, I read Mona Simpson's eulogy for her brother Steve Jobs. One of the lines that struck me was: "Steve cultivated whimsy. What other C.E.O. knows the history of English and Chinese tea roses and has a favorite David Austin rose?"

Steve seemed to have an artist's heart. You can see it in the lovely results he created.

Perhaps cultivating whimsy will wake up the artist in my heart.

As a start, I have a new project: A DIY blackboard!

November rain

A rainy street at the Latin Quarter in Paris

I'm in my friend Jen's room, crashing until the repairs in Room F, my room, are done. This room is on the second floor, and the wireless broadband signal is so much better. Because I'm nearer to the roof, I can hear the rain.

I love the rain. I love how it drenches everything and cleanses the air. I love walking in the rain. I envy people who don't seem to be afraid of a little water, even when they're on their way to some place important.

When I walk without an umbrella, people worry about me. You'll get sick, they say. I often explain that it's not really the rain that makes one sick, it's the virus you catch, especially when you stay indoors with a lot of other people.

Some of the simplest unforgettable pleasures I've had is walking in the rain with a friend. I remember two moments from when I was in college, and one from when I was on a short work trip in Paris.

1. Walking with Mack one night in UP. First, we shared an umbrella. Then we ditched the umbrella and decided to enjoy getting drenched.

2. Walking along España with Jimple. The whole stretch from Welcome Rotonda to the University of Sto. Tomas was flooded, and I was afraid of whatever was hiding in the waters (garbage and excrement, open manholes, electrical wires, leptospirosis and the occasional snake), but all I really remember now is us holding hands and his poems in my bag.

3. Walking around Paris in the rain with my former student Dominique, his wife Olivia and their daughter Sara. I loved Paris in the rain.

Now, Jen and I are going out -- yes, in the rain -- to get some midnight nourishment.

Happiness.