The passing of time in fact gives us a window to see that youth is paired with naïveté. We cannot think of serious endeavors without elevating it to the realm of fairy-tale fantasy. Take marriage for example. Contrary to what we see in films and read in books, it is not the culmination of all our dreams and ambitions; it is the beginning of a lifetime of commitment and sacrifices even if it could be, at the same time, a gift and a privilege.
When a couple face each other at the breakfast table, they no longer see the moon, the starlit skies nor hear the soft, soothing love song playing in the background. It has been replaced by the oh-so-real inescapability of how to raise, feed and educate the children, how much money to allot for food and necessities and how much to set aside for the proverbial wet and stormy days.
The rosy honeymoon is over and the couple sees the world as it really is: Competitive, tough, pitiless yet challenging, forgiving and promising.
Back when I was young, I met Bobby who had a perennial blush on his dimpled cheeks. He was our neighbor but he might as well have been a stranger because I never took notice of him until my cousin whispered, "He’s head over heels over you." That remark sort of took me by surprise because I thought the "heart-skipping-a-beat" happens only when one swoons over one’s matinee idol – Rick Nelson – and no person, much less a tongue-tied, klutzy and blushing youngster stood a ghost of a chance. How could there be anything more giddy and thrilling than that?
Bobby and I had fun, wholesome dates with the entire neighborhood as my chaperons. I had my female cousin, three of her brothers, two of mine, plus another neighbor who served as an extra pair of snooping eyes. As a result, Bobby spent more time with all my male relations and stealing a quiet moment with me proved to be next to impossible. He remained shy and patient.
One time we were dancing the "shimmy-shimmy" and he whispered "This is forever." I suspected he meant it too. But for the likes of me, I was literally "short-sighted" and could not see beyond my fingers not even if he brought me to the bay walk for a poignant view of the horizon and the drop. I broke Bobby’s heart and although we remained friends, the happy blush on his cheeks somewhat paled in time.
After many more ingénue attractions, Bobby was followed by another tall and fine-looking man. By then I knew a bit more about "this thing called love." We both gave importance to finishing our respective studies so whatever we felt for each other never got in the way of our priorities. Every little gesture whether holding hands, exchanging smiles or simply singing a Beatle ballad like And I Love Her made me literally float on a "marshmallowy" cloud. I thought I would never get off.
After graduation, I went straight to a new and exciting job that expanded my horizon; I acquired knowledge and skills that opened more doors and opportunities. I also realized that I had potentials waiting to be tapped that were not evident during my earlier years. There were books to read, music to listen to and senses to awaken and inspire. I continued to meet fascinating people, some attracted me more than the others tugging my heart strings every now and then. Tears flowed too, like a dam bursting. Whenever that happened, I dressed my wounds and learned that life did not stand still for me. It moved on with or without me.
One day a colleague at work rushed to my office full of excitement. She whispered, "There’s a new management trainee at the front desk. You have got to meet him. He’s impeccably neat." Not content with what she just said, she stood in front of me, grabbed my shoulders and mumbled in my ear, "Hear this hear this, he’s got the longest and curliest lashes I’ve ever seen!" Whoa! That finally got my attention so I took a peek and just as quickly made a U-turn dismissing my friend’s puzzled look. In a tizzy and still short of breath, she rattled off, "What happened? Didn’t you see him? What do you think?" I gave her one of those "ho-hum", detached look and replied, "Nah. Not my type."
Two summers later, I married that "management trainee".
Recently, the movie-going public was treated to a silver screen spectacle, Troy with "beefed" and buffed Brad Pitt playing the role of Achilles. It revived my interest in Greek mythology and the tall-tale stories of the gods in Olympus.
The stories, filled with adventures, were in fact immortalized in two books written by the Greek scholar, Homer, entitled The Odyssey and Iliad. The principal character in the former is Odysseus (or Ulysses in Roman mythology) who ruled over the paradise-like kingdom of Ithaka. Odysseus was the genius behind the Trojan horse maneuver that brought victory to the Greeks.
After the Trojan War, Odysseus’ journey back to Ithaka was packed with hardships, fear, pain and death as well as wonder, triumphs, discovery, love and hope. When he finally reached home (only after making peace with the gods notably Poseidon or Neptune, the god of the Sea), he was completely spent but humbled and grateful. It was a long and grueling journey.
What is the point I am trying to make?
I am talking of soul mates. He is a person who brings out the best in you; who sees you in the bigger picture. He inspires and motivates you to be the person you truly are: strong, kind, beautiful, gentle, sincere and most at all, at peace with God and oneself.
There were two women in recent times, icons of style and substance, who seemed to have lived a charmed, meaningful and fulfilled life meeting theirs: Audrey Hepburn and Jacqueline Kennedy-Onassis.
Audrey had Rob Wolders who shared her passion for the performing arts, her rose garden and the plight of hungry and suffering children all over the world. Rob was not a public person but preferred to spend quiet days in pursuit of simple but heartwarming things with Audrey. He was the third man in her life. When Audrey died of cancer, her last visions at home were that of things and people she loved dearly – her sons, her rose garden, and Rob.
Jacqueline had Maurice Tempelsman, a portly, almost balding man who shared her love for the scholarship and learning. He was also described as charming, worldly, sharp-witted, sensitive, a gentle man with unassuming manners who was totally devoted to her. He was the third man in her life. When Jacqueline succumbed to lymphatic cancer, she died at home surrounded by people and things she loved – her children, her books and Maurice.
At the funeral, Maurice Tempelsman chose to read the poem Ithaka from a translation by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard for C.P. Cavafy – Collected Poems (Princeton University Press, 1992). It reads:
"As you set out for Ithaka, hope the voyage is a long one, full of adventure, full of discovery. Laistrygonians and Cyclops, angry Poseidon – don’t be afraid of them. You’ll never find things like that on your way as long as you keep your thoughts raised high, as long as a rare excitement stirs your spirit and your body. Laistrygonians and Cyclops, wild Poseidon ˆ you won’t encounter them unless you bring them along inside your soul, unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope the voyage is a long one. May there be many a summer morning when, with what pleasure, what joy, you come into harbours seen for the first time; may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things, mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony, sensual perfume of every kind – as many sensual perfumes as you can, and may you visit many Egyptian cities to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind. Arriving there is what you are destined for. But do not hurry the journey at all. Better if it lasts for years, so you are old by the time you reach the island, wealthy with all you have gained on the way, not expecting Ithaka to make you rich. Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey. Without her, you would not have set out. She has nothing left to give you now. And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience, you will have understood by then what these Itahakas mean."
In a personal commentary, Maurice Tempelsman added, "And now the journey is over, too short, alas, too short. It was filled with adventure and wisdom, laughter and love, gallantry and grace. So farewell, farewell."
My topic has been obscured by such a loving and beautiful poem, a fitting tribute to a remarkable woman.
Taking the cue from Audrey Hepburn and Jackie O, the road to our Ithaka is also a long and winding way. But if and when you meet your soul mate, wouldn’t that be a treasure to experience? Filled with truth and wonders that one used to dream about only, it would make a "hell", er, "heaven" of a beautiful story.
I can imagine myself sitting next to my favorite tree, its thick branches forming a canopy over my head, listening to all the fine details. It will however, not be half as good as being there living it.