Surfing

There’s something about surfing that keeps people who are older than 30 from trying it. It’s an athletic pursuit that is for the young, people who are less concerned about looking trying too hard. It’s for someone who’s less afraid to commit mistake, something that keeps those who are older from ever attempting to mount a surf board, wait for the right wave, and in the most opportune of moments ride the surf like nothing matters but the exhilaration of lording over an ephemeral wave that lasts a little longer than a good orgasm.

I don’t see how I will ever be able to learn how to surf. There are too many things to take into account before you experience the rush and the high of riding that wave. The right way of paddling to the middle of the sea, spotting the right surf, knowing when to begin standing up, reminding oneself that the front foot should be horizontal relative to the body and to bend one’s hip to maintain stability, and using one’s core to keep oneself from dismounting the board before the right moment–these and more have to be in one’s mind if he has to surf successfully.

I wish I learned how to surf when I was younger, back when I was more daring and less fearful of the opinion of the crowd on the beach. Surely, I know the crowd doesn’t care. They’re only interested in that one surfer who stays on the board longer than most, who rides the waves with careless abandon. The crowd doesn’t care about the tourist who miserably fails in keeping himself vertical on a board the size of one of the main doors of St. Peter’s Basilica pushed by a surfing instructor who identifies the right wave for him, who is in the beginner level and will remain in that level because it will be his last time to visit this beach as there are other beaches waiting to be visited in his lifetime.

It’s too late to learn surfing now. I’m too heavy for it, too awkward, less agile, ridiculous-looking in a pair of board shorts that will only look nice on someone with defined abdominal muscles.

Nonetheless, when the day is over and one returns the board he has rented and paid the instructor the amount they agreed on, what stays in one’s memory is that moment when he successfully stands on a surf board, even though it is only a little longer than climaxing.

Indeed, he will not go back to that beach again, will not attempt to learn surfing again, will tuck away in the farthest part of his wardrobe that pair of unforgiving board shorts, but he knows that the memory of riding the wave for a mere 5 seconds is something he can revisit in the future when things worsen, when age has permanently caught on, when dreams, hopes, even passion is paralyzed to a standstill.

That’s the beauty of surfing, of those little memories of islands of happiness. We, humans, need them.

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Making the most of now

http://www.treehugger.com

I’ll try to write in general terms this time, avoiding as much as I can, to sound…concrete.

When we’re a kid, our imagination was wild.

We believed in everything.

We should not stop believing.

Not reign our passion.

That passion and belief are the two things that can get us to where we want to be.

We do not have control of the future, but we have of now.

We might not have tomorrow.

So might as well enjoy the fact that we got the day right.

We need to break out of this mold.

And ask the question why we’re doing this.

Learn how to do that.

And unlearn.

Imagination is everything.

We fall because we are afraid of falling.

We should not be afraid of fear.

We embrace it, instead.

Be a guest writer

For how can something be truly a representative of a certain sector if it is a thinking of an individual who has, for the longest time, been trying to isolate himself from the rest of the world?

Only after a necessary question is asked do we begin to find the correct solution.

There have been plans during the conception of this blog to invite guest writers. Few people responded. The articles submitted were either too specialized or to technical for the tone of this blog. There were email correspondence that showed promise but eventually died out. Either the proponents have given up or I was too inefficient in updating this blog that I ended up losing the people who could’ve been partners in realizing the main objects of this blog – letting twenty-somthings express themselves and challenging existing stereotypes associated with these group.

It so happened that I belong in this group who are in the forefront of change caught in a setting of constant flux. You may brand us ‘confused’ if you find yourself in the extreme end of cynicism or ‘simply seeking adventure and trying to have a real taste of life that they are just starting to live’ for people who empathize with our struggles.

They say that the twenty-somethings of our time are apolitical, indifferent, disinterested, selfish, even asexual. But time and again we have proven them false. We saw ourselves involved in the very vortex of change situated in different venues: in our family, community, university, the national scene, and in the world. We are as diverse as the colors that represent us, the job we do, or the opinions we have of life in general.

We questioned prevailing mores, challenged the status quo, and transcended our supposed fate. We work in places unimaginable during our parents’ days. We travel to places beyond the confines of the comfort of our culture. No one can impose their thoughts on us, compel us to stay in one place, or do what we hate to do.

This blog is a celebration of that free spirit. And what better way to celebrate this spirit than to write about it.

Going Against the Current is inviting all twenty-something to write about anything – your experience, victory, defeat, first love, travel, work, passion, art, angst, sadness, frustration, hope, dream, plans for the future, disappointment, opinion, political leaning, school, sex, writing, food, fear, prognostication, prediction, criticism, anger. . . .

. . . .anything.

(You may send your entries to eraserattsokfev@yahoo.com.) And from there we’ll see.

Letting go of fatalism: finding a job

I’m on a frenzy now. A mix of emotions that border on the absurd. I just started looking for jobs in the Philippines last night and it’s not easy. I’ve never tried looking for a serious work before. My application as an instructor in the University of the Philippines was not that difficult, at least, because the panel already knew my strengths and weaknesses and that I did not have to sell my self to a certain extent. But for a job in a private corporation in Manila, my credentials may speak for me, but I think it won’t be enough considering the competition in the working world this time.

manila

I intend to work in Manila after, in case, this will be my first time to work in my country’s capital city and to actually stay there and immerse my self in the hustle and bustle of a big metropolis. I am scared but am even more excited. Bigger world means being able to experience a lot of things that I will otherwise miss if I stay in one place during my entire lifetime.

I am trying to console myself that the economic condition of the world in general and my lack of working experience might delegate me to the lowest position, or worse not being able to find a job at all, but I am trying to be hopeful.

In fact I am considering finding another scholarship for a graduate degree just to postpone my entrance to the working world. I just hate the idea of working. I loved formal learning so much, but this time, I’ve got to choose, and it appears that the best choice is to work.

For most twenty-somethings this part of life is one of the most dreadful. I just can’t imagine being asked about my salary and not being able to answer because it’s dismally low. I can’t imagine being asked about what I do if it’s something I am not happy doing. A lot of things to consider, but at the end of the day it all boils down to a fact that I have to work. I may study forever and reason out that I am learning for learning’s sake, but then again, learning is not an end in itself. I have to apply what I have learned through a job and receive remuneration for doing my job.

manila2

I’ve been quite fatalistic these past few years. If given a chance to choose between a stable job or studying abroad, without any consideration, I’ll choose the former, but as I age I am starting to realize that I can’t think of adventures all the time because travelers also have to take a rest, or that superheroes have Louis or grandma waiting for them after a day of saving the world from all nemeses.

I guess I have to slow down on my fatalism and be more pragmatic and realistic. I have to plan my next action. A new life will greet me a month from now, and I cannot afford to fail.