The Love Equation

As an engineer, I define love as this:

Love is inversely proportional to expectation.

Meaning, the more expectations you have, the less love you feel. The less expectations you have, the more love you feel.

Let me explain by stating the examples.

During courtship, our expectations are usually low. We don’t expect a text message. We don’t expect a letter. We don’t expect the intentional glance. We don’t expect the gifts. But when these expectations happen, we get knocked off our feet. This is where we think we are most loved.

After courtship, the expectations start to increase. We expect regular calls. We expect gifts in every occasions. We expect full attention. When these expectations happen, then that’s good. But when the expectation fails to happen, we feel unloved. Conflict begins.

In marriage, the expectations are at its highest. It should be happily ever after, right? We expect complete devotion. We expect total understanding. We expect infinite intimacy. When these expectations happen, then that’s good. But when the expectation fails to happen, we feel betrayed. We no longer feel love.

Thus, it is simple to rediscover love.
Lower the expectations.
You will find love again in the smaller things.

More today than yesterday

During offering time, I would give Gab a hundred pesos to drop in the offering basket. Sometimes, it’s more. Despite folding it several times to conceal the denomination, someone noticed it and asked if the amount is too big for a child to give as an offering.

I gave a quick explanation but as I reflect upon it, I had other reasons.

My quick reply was that it will serve a challenge for Gab. When the time comes when Gab can afford to give his own offering, I’m sure he will find a way to equal that amount or to give even more.

Now I realized another reason. It’s no longer the 1980s when my parents give me 5 pesos or 20 pesos to put into the offering basket. The price of commodities have increased since then. So why not increase the amount I let Gab give as an offering as well.

Finally, it is how I understand the phrase: To whom much is given, much is expected of him as well. God gave me much. I’m not filthy rich but I got gadgets and gizmos, a plenty. If I can put aside a significant portion of my budget for “stuffs”, there is no reason I can’t give a significant portion of it for God too.

Of course, the amount is immaterial. God sees beyond the quantity of our offerings.

Deleting Inbox

Yesterday I deleted old emails. Some are almost 10 years ago.

Some emails are hard to let go. Like photographs, they are memories of the past. One email can tell a lot of stories.

Press releases. Media invites. Forward photos. Chat transcripts. Product inquiries. Project Updates. Scripts. Drafts.

But they have served their purpose already. It’s time to let go and to move on.

By deleting the old emails, I am preparing a lot of free space for new memories to be formed.

Cry

I want to cry. I want to let go of the disappointments and the frustrations.

But I have never really cried for a long time. Maybe because I have become stronger. Or I have already experienced my greatest pain. Now, it’s foolish to waste a tear.

There is really no happy person.
Just people who are strong to hide the pain.

A reason not to smile

They say that it takes 43 muscles to frown while it takes just 17 muscles to smile.

This means that it takes more energy and more effort to frown. To smile, then, is better.

But what’s worst and more tiring than a frown is forcing yourself to smile because people expects you to be happy.

A waste.
A tragedy.

Rocks of Halong Bay

While in Halong Bay, our tour guide told us that some islets would resemble a bird. Another a butterfly. The others will resemble a cat, a mansion, or a bell. The islets can look like an animal, a jewelry, or a structure.

I stared at each rock that seem to have risen from the sea. The rocks doesn’t resemble anything at all.

What I see instead are the irregular cracks painfully etched on its surface. I see the random arrangement of small trees that the rocks carry with a burden. I see the eroded base where the water have hammered for years.

I can’t see any resemblance of a colorful bird, a graceful butterfly or a precious jewel.

It’s just like how we see ourselves in the mirror.
We only see the cracks in our faces, our burdened shoulders or our eroded spirits.

But for others, they are be able to see that we are beautiful.
Like a bird.
Like a butterfly.
Like a jewel.