Essential

Over a week ago, Carmella was in a birthday party where her best friend got a new Samsung Champ touch screen cellular phone as gift. I was curious how she saw this phone compared to what she has and so I asked. Her reply really humbled me and made me one proud daddy.

Carmella began by saying that if she has one, she might just drop it and scratch or even break the fragile touch screen. She went on telling that her very basic Cherry Mobile P1 already fulfills three of the most important things which according to her are:

1. talk to mommy,
2. send mommy text messages,
3. send Ate Trish text messages.

That she can do all these with her phone is, for her, good enough. Well, in my mind, that she also saved for it makes it a premium item. That's right, it is all her money.

So what humbled this father?

In my heart, it is how this child defined, in not so may words, “essential”. From the view of what her phone delivers, these things come to mind:

Essential does not need a touch screen. Essential does not need to be state of the art. Essential does not have to be the best of the best.

Essential is simply being able to connect to those who are important to you, to tell them how you feel, to be able to send them your love.

Suprisingly, “essential” is what most of us adults often fail to define.

We grown ups think of essential as the latest, the shiniest, the branded, the fashionable, the fastest, the expensive, the stuff that makes us feel unique, the gadget carrying the fruit logo, the things the Jones have.

With this follows the view that these are what completes happiness only to realize, after a few weeks, that they fade, they get scratched. So we embark on collecting more of stuff we perceive as “essential” only to end our story like how it begun.

Earlier I mentioned being one proud daddy and truly I am. For as young as 9 my daughter is able to define her "essential". And it isn't jaded.

Who wouldn't be proud of that?

Why The Tummy?

It happens all the time.

Whenever I tell them of my bike adventures, their eyes, for some reason, gravitates towards my mid section.

It's not horrendously big, as a matter of fact. It could be better but it is not beer belly in any sense. It's just not a six-pack. 

But the sort of response I get manifests the distorted view that a six-pack tummy equates to exercise success.

This is Tony dela Cruz. He is a very good friend, a biking mate and an inspiration to all he rides with. He may not have a six-pack but when we rides, he is one of those leading the peloton. 

Yes, he is always at the front, even on those agonizing uphills. He is among the toughest riders I have known and maybe even the fastest in his category. He would give those twice younger than him a run for their money.

At each annual physical examinations where he works, he consistently proves to be the healthiest. In fact, he tells me that they would point to him as, what I would personally call, “the fitness benchmark.”

There is no six-pack in this picture, no sculptured biceps and chests, no Mr. Universe triceps. What we have here, despite the lack of visual evidence, is simply a picture of healthy folks.

We may not have the physique that will invite hundreds to our chosen sport. But as in everything that is essential, the profound remains invisible to the eye.

In my mind, it is our mad quest for vanity that often push us to get into so many things all at the same time only to end up failing in all of them. The gym time, the spa visits and the running in a steam suit all comes to naught.

And it is perhaps this same attitude that is mirrored by our life choices.

We obsesses over evidences before we set out trying things and so we end up getting nothing done at all. We focus on the impossible, on the difficulty, on the things that can go wrong. Yet at the same we wonder why we do not take off.

This heart beating in my chest remains healthy in spite of its age because the mind has decided that a healthy heartbeat is far more important than a six pack tummy. That I continue to ride just says it has chosen it's priorities well.