The world is unfair, isn't it?

I think the world is, indeed, unfair. 

I used to think it's humans' natural tendency to look at themselves then look at others back and forth, unconsciously doing some comparison. Personally, I think I've tried comparing myself to others in all aspects; I'd often dwell on the fact that other people are A LOT MORE than me - a lot more attractive, richer, smarter, more skillful, braver and more self-willed. And then I'd let myself be eaten by it. "Why is he/she like that and I'm only this?" "Why are others have those and I only have this?" "Why can't I have that and they have it?" I even closed my ears at the compliments I received from my friends. I didn't care what I had. In my eyes, others were always luckier. I guess t'was because I wanted to be better each day. Only that I wanted to be better than everyone else. 

Suddenly, one day, something changed my way of thinking. That time, I was listening to an Affirmative Frame recording sent to me by my life coach (FYI: these are recordings, usually of ocean waves, dripping rain or any relaxing sound, embedded with subliminal messages which help a person achieve positive mindset). I had my earphones on, and my eyes closed. I was internalizing the ocean waves which sang in my ears. Swish. Swash. Swoosh. I could imagine the water slapping the stones along the shore, then pulling them back to its body. I imagined the strong blows of the wind, amply strong to form waves. The sky was clear. The sun was shining brightly. Everything was wonderful.

For a moment, I gave myself the freedom to enjoy what seemed to be in front me, thinking that I deserved it. I deserved to be in something wonderful. 

I opened my eyes. 

I thought, maybe life is just about living. And when I only care about living, probably I wouldn't care about what others have . . . only what I already have. Maybe life isn't just about getting better and better and better; it could also be about appreciating what's already better and beautiful. Maybe life is as simple as letting things (that're out of our control) happen, thinking of what really matters and leaving what does not.

Maybe, sometimes, I just have to live and don't care. 

Perhaps, I was right in thinking that the world is unfair. But life is fair enough to have itself in me.

Why not worry?

Do not worry.

You might feel unlucky now, 

but you could feel unlucky again some time.

Your problems may seem to be heavier today

than the problems you had yesterday,

but you’re gonna have problems in the future all the same.

You might think that life used to be better when you were younger,

but actually when you were younger,

you wished you were still even younger.

You see, my friend, 

the fact is, there is always something to worry about 

as much as there is always something to be grateful for.

Do not worry.

Choose to be grateful. 

Choose to be happy.

Have faith, my friend

Have faith, my friend 

Even when your prayers seem unanswered,

and you can't get what you want.

Even when you're in need of help and comfort,

and nobody seems to be there for you.

Even when the one you love can't love you back.

Even when people hate you, mock you and insult you.

Even when you lose someone/something

who/which you know is irreplaceable.

Even when waiting seems endless

and becomes utterly painful.

Even when your job gets harder . . . 

and harder and harder.

Even when you barely see hope.

Even amid hunger and thirst.

Even amid natural disaster and war.

Even when in physical pain.

Even when the world isn't being fair.

Have faith, my friend. 

Just hold on.

The world may abandon you,

but God never will.

When I Was Peter

A thunder roared down to us. That night, the sky ran vastly dark and ugly. Our sailing ship was continuously shoved by the wrath of huge waves. We tried to unload by throwing baggage and buckets of water to the sea, but the sky endlessly pressed us with heavy rain.

I couldn't see clearly what was beyond us. My face and the rest of me was dripping wet. I shivered at the strong blows of the wind. I was afraid . . . afraid of drowning, of getting hit by lightning. I was afraid of death. I thought that if only Jesus chose to sail with us, He could have been there to save us.

The storm seemed unending and so was our struggle. The thunder roared again, even louder than before. A big wave pushed us hard on one side that we thought we'd sink. We screamed and braced ourselves. Surprisingly, another wave pushed us back and against, balancing the ship yet filling it more with water. I was fumbling for a bucket when from afar, I saw a figure of a man clad in white.

He was walking above the deep waters as if He was just walking on a solid ground.

One of us saw him too and shouted, "A ghost!"

The man, poised with calmness, turned to us and walked towards us. I looked around me, searching for a way to escape. I suddenly forgot about the waves and storm. All I thought about was how I could run away from this ghost. 

I swallowed hard, knowing there was no way out. The man went closer. He got approximately 2 yards near us when He stopped. I recognized who He was. 

Jesus. Jesus was walking on water. 

I held my gaze at Him, agape and almost not blinking. Despite the storm, His face remained as calm as ever. Suddenly, I felt like everything was fine. I thought He had left us to the lurch, but he was there. I teared up a bit out of joy, of gratefulness . . . and guilt. Slowly, He extended His arm to me as if inviting me to come to Him. His eyes told me that I could do it; that I'd be safe, that He'd be there for me and won't let me die from drowning or be electrified by lightning. His eyes told me to trust in Him.

It wasn't long before I saw myself getting out of the ship, dangling my feet at its edge. I looked at the sea water and wondered how deep it could be. I thought how impossible it was to stand and walk upon it. But then I looked back at Jesus. Without words, with just an arm extending to me, He assured me that it was possible.

I believed in Him and let my feet touch the sea water. It was a bit cold. I held my stare on Jesus. I believed in my rabbi. I believed in His power. I saw with my own eyes how he healed the sick and paralyzed; how the evil left the possessed man in His command; and how he brought the child and Lazarus back to life. Finally, I freed my hold on the edge of the ship. I smiled. Indeed, I had stood on water.

I made a step toward Jesus. I outstretched an arm to Him.

Yes, as long as You're there my Lord, I could walk on water. Let me come near You. 

I moved two more steps forward and saw a smile on Jesus' face.

Of course, it is possible! I knew You were right.

As I took another step, my eyes moved from Jesus to a huge wave which seemed to be coming to me. Quickly, I erased the peace that once embraced me and allowed fear to reign.

I gasped as the water underneath my feet went loose. I sank. I flapped and lifted my hands in panic, but the sea pulled me as strong and as deep as the fear I felt.

I'm gonna die, I thought. I had let fear kill me. Not the sea, not the lightning, not by a man. I drowned myself in fear with Jesus near me. Jesus knew I deserved death.

The Search for Paradise

As I placed one foot forward, the dried leaves crunched underneath the soles of my rubber shoes.

I was kinda lost.

I checked my compass for the umpteenth time, assuring I'd been heading north. 

I looked up, searching for the sun. T'was there, hiding behind the branches and leaves of surrounding tall trees. Some ray met my eyes and it hurt. I looked away and thought I'd rather get hurt by light than stumble and wound myself in darkness. 

I pushed the shoulder straps of my backpack, pressing it tightly on my back. Then I moved forward. 

It was my first time to travel alone. I'd no one to lean on, just myself and maybe, the trees. 

Though forest trees looked all the same, I knew that each tree has a unique groove. I thought of them as the most competitive and most graceful dancing creatures long time ago. However, one day in a huge disco room, God dared them to play stop dance. For some reason, He stopped the music for a very long time and left them steady on their places. Maybe, God knew that someone like me would travel alone in the woods. Maybe He wanted me to play the music in my mind and dance with the trees to reach my destiny. But the moment I get tired and stop dancing, I'd freeze like the trees and get lost. That was what had just happened, I guess.

The sun seemed to want to help me too. The sun was my friend. I walked with it each day. For as long as it was there, things were bright and clear. But the sun was very playful. Hide and seek was its favorite game. I did not mind seeking it every time, for that made me happy more than the sun thought.

My goal was to see the Promised land, as they called it. I had no idea how it looked like. They just told me t'was going to be a Paradise. I wanted to be in Paradise; no, I desired to be in Paradise. They advised me to always go north . . . no matter what.   

I didn't know how it all occurred, but in the next few minutes I found myself sliding on a slippery slope and bumping myself here and there to rocks, tree trunks and some sharp edgy branches. Wrong move. Loose foothold. Mud. Trap. No matter what that was, something apparently went really really wrong. Stupid. I realized t'was more painful to make a mistake in daylight when I could still see my path clearly. But it even hurt further to know that there was no one else to blame but myself.

I didn't know if I was still breathing. My stomach churned from the pull of gravity and fear and uncertainty. I couldn't locate where the painful body part was. I was too hurt; I just closed my eyes and held my body loose and free. I expected myself to worry because for sure, falling wouldn't lead me north. But only one thing reigned my mind - I wished I'd come out in one piece.

The next thing I knew, I was floating, half drenched in something wet and cold. A body of water, I thought. I could have panicked if not for the intense pain I was feeling. I didn't dare a move. Everything in me ached - my limbs, chest and head. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

I saw the sun. I saw my friend, ardent and dazzling on the vast blue sky just above me. This time, no tree leaves and branches blocked my sight. There were attractive clouds in fancy shapes around it, but the sun outshone their beauty. Its rays were outstretched like arms offering an embrace to each creature in the world. Its light was blinding yet calm and nourishing. Few birds came out to my view and played in the sky. They looked like touching the sun and teasing it to play with them. It was the most calming sight I'd ever seen. Suddenly, I forgot all about pain. I never thought my friend, sun, was that beautiful.

And then I remembered the Promised land. And the Paradise. "Am I lost? Will I ever reach it?" I almost blurted the words out in worry.

And in some kind of playback, I heard them telling me, "Always go north."

What Computer Games Taught Me

They say I'm a gamer.

Actually, playfulness is one consistent and deepening yet (for some) inapparent trait I have in me. I guess it's basically rooted in the joys of my childhood. When I was little, I used to wake up each morning with only one goal in mind - to play.

The first time I laid my hands on our first ever personal computer, I almost glued myself to it. I got addicted to Sims (by EA games) - the original old plain one. I marveled at its graphics since it looked so real. Moreover, I loved the idea of building a character and family of your own, of creating and designing a house where they could live, and of manipulating the characters as if you, yourself, are in the game. Since I used to share the same computer with my siblings, I had no choice but to spend limited time playing. Nonetheless, I continued loving the game even until my sisters got fed up of it. So when I had all the chance, I played Sims more than I used to and thought about it a lot that I could say I mastered it. I came to memorize where the items in the 'buy' option were placed. I used cheats without looking at the cheat codes. I learned to navigate the program fast and easy. From time to time, we upgraded the game until it leveled up to an expansion pack. I was loving Sims more with the upscale and all when our computer crashed for the first time. We lost all the files . . . including Sims.

Although I got a bit devastated with my loss, I easily recovered through the online crash cart game, big fish games, 'dash' games, pokemon, Red Alert, Counter Strike and a lot more which were soon installed in the computer. I realized t'was more fun to have it all in variety. Different graphics, different rules, different characters, different of everything. I felt proud for being like a generalist. Unfortunately, one day, a virus got our computer really ill that all the files, including the games, had to be erased.

I played the best computer games ever when, finally, my parents bought me a laptop of my own. Although I promised myself to take care of it and not to fill it in with games like I used to, I still had in it Sims 2, then Ragnarok, then Diablo and eventually, several others which I barely remember. Initially, I thought I was the happiest kid in the world. I had absolute control of my time. I dribbled my fingers on the keys and did heaps of clicks whenever and wherever I wanted to. During vacation, I played all day as if the laptop was on fire.

However, gradually, things changed.

I started to get envious of my characters. I thought that I made them better than me. My sim already maxed her skills, was on top of her career, got a great family and lived in a luxurious house. I wished I was as successful and fulfilled as her. Elsewhere, my Sorceress was clad in highly resistant, durable, gold helmet, armor and boots with full gems and perfectly combined runes in it, was using a gold powerful staff, had its frozen orb at 15 and was in the Great Marsh of Nightmare Level. I wanted to be as strong as her, I thought. My archer got into third job and had become a sniper. She was nicely dressed in a durable and highly resistant to poison armor and got this card clipped in her so she could release arrows as fast as thunder. Her falcon was the strongest bird that could strike 1000+ continuous damages in just a split second. I hoped I was as experienced as her. There I was, bringing these characters to greatness but robbing off myself of it.

Little by little, I let go of the keys and mouse. I lessened my playing time and increased my reading time. Soon, I uninstalled Sims 2 in my computer . . . followed by Ragnarok. (Don't ask me about Diablo) One day, I was left alone in the house. I chanced to spend that time thinking and reflecting. I sat in the middle of the room and looked around me. Suddenly, I realized that I can be just like the characters I've played. I realized that life is like a computer game played in 5D. You, yourself, should be your character. This time, you don't need keyboard and mouse to navigate - just your senses, mind, heart and initiative. Of course, there is the disadvantage of not getting an overhead view of what's happening. But of course, just like other computer games, life has defects and glitches too. You, yourself, are going to feel the difficulty of honing a skill, of hunting useful items, of earning simeleon, gold or zeny, of fighting an enemy, of losing life, mana and stamina. But if you wish to fight in the feared arena and win, or reach the highest level and finish the act, you'd do all you can to resurrect yourself and start over again.

Well, they say I'm a gamer. Indeed, I am.

Why Other People Flaunt Their Strengths

I used to think that some people need their heads banged on the wall.

I like windy days but not "windy" people. "Windy" people are those who're aware that they have something worthy to be proud of and flaunt it right to other people's faces. They have this apparent overflowing confidence to the point of (unintentionally) making other people feel bad about themselves. 

You won't know if a person is "windy" until you talk to them. Usually, you could discern just by the person's extremely rising or ebbing tone of voice, his/her choice of words (often plenty of pronoun "I") and most importantly, the content of his/her sentences. I've been seeing, meeting and talking to such people almost everyday. I actually used to admire them . . . but then hate them, and now, I think I understand them.

I don't know if it's true for most "windy" people, but based on my observations and occasional conversations with them, they are merely compensating. These folks are fully aware of what's good about them as much as they're fully conscious of what's bad about them. So to bury the bad things down to prevent others from noticing, they magnify the good things. Well, for most parts, they're not doing it for other people but for themselves. They need a majority to confirm that they're personifying the "best version" of themselves wholly and clearly.

Along side with compensation, these people are usually perfectionists. They want to clear themselves out of their "bad sides". They tend to hide their weaknesses and efforts from people's knowledge. They instinctively defend themselves when committed a mistake, and they declare that everything's okay when frustrated or disappointed. Most of them can easily notice other people's flaws. Aside from their high standards, pointing out dirt to others' eyes can be their way of keeping their eyes out of their own dirt.

Gathering the two reasons above, let's say that these are all results of some dark history. Such people might once was cruelly treated by their parents, relatives, teachers or classmates, and that could have affected their self-esteem. Maybe, they used to be punished for failing marks or even for committing simple mistakes. Or it could be that they had an embarrassing experience which bore heavily in their minds and affected their self-concept. We can't know for sure what the cause is but probably, there is always a reason behind each behavior; we were born with minds as clear as empty slates.

Overall, I can say that "windy" people usually have the purest intentions. However, since they're more concerned about always putting their best version forward, they become insensitive of other people's feelings. "Windy" people may appear selfish or self-centered, but actually it is their insecurities which are killing them inside. It is their selves whom they're fighting against. Inwardly, they have a difficult, bloody battle

between the good and bad version of themselves. What they need is someone who could bring that long lost peace. Perhaps, only an accepting and loving person can do that. 

Without understanding, there is no acceptance. Without acceptance, there is no love.