Contemplative Notions

carroza detail
photo by adlaw on flickr

It is once again the week to recall, reflect, and appreciate the events that took place about 2000 years ago. The stimulus for reflection abounds. Even if one is not in scenic vacation spots, the Divine is present. One has only to be still and  look closer and deeper.

Traditionally there would be processions to commemorate the Calvary Walk. Prominent families would have the opportunity to parade and deck their carrozas, carriages that take the holy images around the neighborhood. All kinds of beautiful flowers are arrayed on those karos. What a sight to behold especially at night as these are lit.

Even without the fresh flowers, the carrozas themselves are ornamented, engraved and embossed with designs.  Some so intricate that one cannot hep but wonder at this work of art being a labor done in love, in faith, in reverence and devotion.

Congratulations, Graduate!

grad·u·a·tion 

n.

1.

a. Conferral or receipt of an academic degree or diploma marking completion of studies.

b. A ceremony at which degrees or diplomas are conferred; a commencement.

2.

a. A division or interval on a graduated scale.

b. A mark indicating the boundary of such an interval.

3. An arrangement in or a division into stages or degrees.

...so says the dictionary.

Just back from one of our school tours giving free seminars for graduating high schoolers. I could sense their excitement as much as their giddy anticipation of life after high school. What's next?

I salute all you graduates of whatever level you have successfully passed and brought to a close! I can still remember myself in my rented toga marching up the stage to Pomp and Circumstance to shake our principal's hand, lift the tail of my cap, transfer it to the other side of my head...and finally, receive my mock diploma (a piece of rolled up  bond paper held together by a satin ribbon). That moment (with all the feelings) etched clearly in memory. Formal.

Then there are informal graduations. Sans ceremony. These are the defining moments, events that mark a turn in our lives...circumstances that change us -- for the better, or leave us worse off.

Applause for those who have graduated from bad habits, compulsions, and addictions.

Applause for having the courage to embrace change.

Applause for accepting what is.

Death graduated our loved ones from this life... applause for lives well lived.

Applause for all who have learned life lessons big and small.

Congratulations!

Allamanda

YELLOW BELLS

(of Peñaranda Park*, in the ‘60s; nowhere today)

Melchor L. Aguilar 

yellow bells casting mellow spells

when abloom they cast away gloom

by the sight of them my heart swells

by scent of them my spirits boom.

arched blossoms of bright golden shade

their buds in lush, their blooms a-plush

in glade and glen they gleam, not fade

in dale and dell they dwell a-flush.

on bushes green they grin akin

to mermaids’ lips of tulips pale

on sepals lean they mean to sheen

like fairy’s hair in fairy tale.

yellow bells casting mellow spells

their magic charm in warm endear

in silence hence, the chime of bells

i hear so near in dearly cheer. 

What a lovely spirit-lifting poem  i chanced upon. Truly, the Yellow Bell or Allamanda casts away gloom. I am so grateful that we have this persistent woody shrub by our gate -- well, our immediate neighbor's side of the gate. 

Even though hardly any tending is paid to it -- it continues to thrive, as if to mock the sun. Very undemanding. Or rather, it channels the sun's glow, giving us something of itself we can behold up close without the glare and the burn.

Its sister in our backyard, on the other hand,  remains flowerless, rendered barren by the lack of exposure to the sun.

 

  

-

Narcissus a.k.a Daffodil a.k.a. Amaryllis

Daffodil, you were once a beautiful boy. You were so beautiful you were admired and desired by many. You were so beautiful, you fell in love with yourself and could not stop gazing at your reflection in the river. Were you really that beguiling that you died longing for who else but yourself?

Yes, you were indeed beautiful. I can believe that, for you turned into a flower. 

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: --
A poet could not but be gay
In such a laughing company:
I gaz'd--and gaz'd--but little thought
What wealth the shew to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.

 

William Wordsworth Poems in Two Volumes: Moods of my Mind 7 (1807)

 

 

Dandelion, My Flower du Jour

This fascinates me...nature's way of preserving itself, its capacity to go on with life. Consider the Dandelion. The weed.

At the end of its beautiful flowering yellow stage, it dries up transforms into a white cottony ball and individual seeds with "parachutes" get ready to be launched, waiting patiently for that gust of wind to come by...

.

..and sweep them away to wherever.

I had this epiphany a few moments ago: my friendships can be stamped with the image of the Dandelion. They spring up at the least unexpected moments and places, bud up and blossom. The sun, happy to shine on them. But there also comes a time when from that shared space each must go their own way... to follow their own paths, go on with their own lives.

Our differing pursuits, and even misgivings and disappointments (mostly mine) are like those florets that have been cast to the wind and released from that flower head that once held them tightly together. Who knows if "never the twain shall meet" down the road. I leave that for the Divine to decide.

I now decide to make the dandelion my new life motif. For now i need to drift towards my own growth. To all my friends i blow you my dandelion wishes of health, peace, and safe travels with better company who will bring out only the best in you. Godspeed.

 

Prom Season

It is Prom Season. On one of rare trips to the salon i had to wait in line for my stylist to give me a perm as she had a bevy of young ladies getting their face made up. With gowns in tow, their fussy and excited  mothers stand by to supervise the "look." These past days i have had sightings of young men in their coats and ties looking dapper and somewhat self-conscious.

High School for me was a good time. I know so because i can look back with fondness such as what my classmates and i did a while ago. There was no end to the stories and the laughter we shared, thanks to one of us who has sharp memory.

And i thought that i could not care less about the pompousness of the de riguer high school prom. I look back now and remember that indeed, those were good times.

My Sentinel

Just this rainy evening i stepped out for some Mongolian eats with my other half. I was amused by the wooden soldier standing guard at the entrance. Of course they had their own security guy out front but this whimsical life-sized doll was our greeter once we stepped in.

And here is what greets me when i arrive home. A lovely cluster of crimson bougainvillea clusters. Never mind that they come few and far between. To my sheer delight  the blooms point the way inside as if to usher us in with a warm greeting.