cherry stems and other pursuits

Last Sunday, my folks and I stopped by Iceberg, Makati to celebrate belatedly my dad's birth about 60 years ago.  Being one of the restaurant chains old enough to be included in the list of places my parents used to date, as well as probably being the site where the relationship that eventually brought me into this world must have incubated, it wasn't surprising to find my parents becoming more candid than usual concerning their personal matters.

And for this session, my mom shared one particular oratory talent I never knew she had.  Aside from my mom's superior grasp of diction and other such faculties relating to language (to a fault sometimes, as most kids with sharp-tongued mothers can attest to), she also demonstrated her skills when it comes to a certain infamous cocktail party maneuver: the cherry stem knot.

Thinking it hereditary thing, I snatched the 1000 calorie morsel for myself from my mom's banana-chocolate parfait and proceeded to discover if I had such a mandibular talent.   "The concept was fairly easy", I thought while rearranging the residents of my mouth.  "I just had to whirl the whole stem around as a circle, then twist the two ends around each other."  5 minutes and one very bitter twig in my mouth later, I spat the slightly chewed stem into a tissue and decided that more thought and skill was required before I can "wow the ladies".

My mom reassured me of her skills and was wrestling with her own cherry stem--now taken from my dad's banana split--before I can even say, "I'd rather I didn't see my own mother being a little too creative with the possible uses of her tongue."

While my mom was quietly, but quite vigorously, impersonating a calm kid chewing an astonishingly tough wad of gum, my Dad echoed my interest in the matter as he mentioned that my Mom "has claimed" before of performing such a feat but never really witnessing the actual act.

And just as suddenly as she set out to begin the task did she prove her impressive command over her teeth-tongue coordination: a nearly knotted stem lay on another piece of tissue.  She said that she discovered this skill when the in-house lawyer of their office boasted of it, and being the achiever that she is, found out she can, too.  She said that all there was to it was to fervently believe that it was possible, and that she can do it, even if this time around the false teeth where kind of in the way.

And that line struck me.  This last 3 months have established themselves as the busiest in my life, ev~ah.  Gone were the times when I was just so busy, I can't sleep/eat/be happy/be myself anymore.  The level of busy I've graduated into(or shackled myself to) is the kind of busy that you don't get anything done anymore.  The concept of priorities have faded when everything you're doing is important, is pivotal, is due NOW.

I felt the burden of it, but I will not complain. I chose this for myself, and I stand by my choice.  But now, I'm more aware of my capabilities, that in spite of my illusions of grandeur, I can only do so much.  I was resolved, but sacrifices were made in order to keep up.  And one of those sacrifices was the formerly indestructible confidence I rallied in such a tight-spot as I am in now.

It hurt a lot to admit this, but I'm discovering other things in this strange world of "can't" and "for the sake of my mental health, won't".  I'm discovering the "power of no" but still have not fully reigned in the horses yet on the subject.  

In this case for example, my mom did okay, headstrong and unwavering in her belief that cherry stems were just as easy to knot with jointed fingers as opposed to saliva-slathered organs.  So the light at the end of the tunnel persists, and perseverance still prevails, in the foolhardy paradigm my parents have nurtured in me.

But, I still have to learn to pace myself.  I just know that I have to learn this skill: saying no now so I can say yes to something better later on.  Soon, before I choke on the not-so-proverbial-but-contextually-apt cherry stem of misplaced goals.