Zen Masters Age 0-3 and the Deluge of Childhood Nostalgia

Everyone owns a favorite childhood memory held of him by his family. The kind that has become an epic--told by parents to amuse bored visiting relatives and friends, or even plain strangers they’d meet in church or some other place, as long as the situation allows them enough time for conversation. The kind told so many times the story seemed to assume a life of its own—opening as precise as each crease in thumb mark, punch lines delivered exact as clockwork. Way back when Glorietta was just a patch of ground made green by impeccably kept grass (I even have the picture to prove it) and there was only SM Makati to stand proud as mall landmark of the city, the memory I claim my own took its permanent place in my family’s minds.

It’s sacred tradition for my family to go out on weekends, and most of these days were spent in the mall to eat out, do groceries, and indulge in bonding activities friendly to four small girls. We’d usually have lunch in Makati Supermart (I swear they had the best spaghetti with meatballs then), and it was during this one particular time my grandmother came with us that I made my monumental (re)mark. My parents were kidding us children that we have to pay for our own food—kkb, as they termed it—and while my sisters kept their panic to themselves I, in my wise two or three years, just shrugged calmly and gave my order: “toasted bread and water.” Hahaha.


What brought the sudden onslaught of childhood nostalgia? My niece Hanna and nephew Gabriel (whom I originally nicknamed Gael for Gael Garcia Bernal but was outvoted by my sisters who wanted Gabby—I wouldn’t know from whom they fancied the moniker though, and I’m afraid to even ask.) came home this weekend. And it’s funny how everyone’s moods immediately shift from surly to deliriously happy. I even race home from work now, just to catch them before their bedtimes. It’s as if being with them allows me to become a child again, and I frolic in the blissful and simple world of their innocence. Watching them affirms some lost faith and wisdom, teaching me that things are not always as complex as I’ve been made to believe. They come to the core of things without conditions or biases—Zen philosophy as I understand it. As Chinese sage Zhuang Zi describes (not defines) Zen: “When hungry, eat. When sleepy, go to sleep.” Guess we’ll be doing ourselves a huge, huge favor if we just indulge our inner child some time, don’t you think?