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	<title>peregrino</title>
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	<description>prayers. reflections. dreams.</description>
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		<item>
		<title>12</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/12/31/12/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 31 Dec 2011 13:43:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[2011, you were the year that taught me how to let go. The year that taught me how small I am. The year that taught me how hunger really felt. 2011, you also brought me new friends. brought me great &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/12/31/12/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=279&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>2011, you were the year that taught me how to let go. The year that taught me how small I am. The year that taught me how hunger really felt.</p>
<p>2011, you also brought me new friends. brought me great adventures. brought me filling surprizes.</p>
<p>2011, I love you. I hate you.</p>
<p>2011, Thank you!</p>
<p>2011, muwah muwah tsup tsup!</p>
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		<title>Holy Week 2011</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/04/29/holy-week-2011/</link>
		<comments>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/04/29/holy-week-2011/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 29 Apr 2011 08:49:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[[Good Friday] While waiting outside the chapel for our turn for the veneration of the cross, CJ and I had our musings about our lives inside and out of the seminary. Then, he recognized the instrumental music playing inside the &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/04/29/holy-week-2011/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=267&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>[Good Friday] While waiting outside the chapel for our turn for the veneration of the cross, CJ and I had our musings about our lives inside and out of the seminary. Then, he recognized the instrumental music playing inside the chapel.</p>
<blockquote><p>There are places I remember<br />
All my life though some have changed<br />
Some forever not for better<br />
Some have gone and some remain<br />
All these places had their moments<br />
With lovers and friends I still can recall<br />
Some are dead and some are living<br />
In my life I&#8217;ve loved them all</p>
<p>But of all these friends and lovers<br />
There is no one compares with you<br />
And these memories lose their meaning<br />
When I think of love as something new<br />
Though I know I&#8217;ll never lose affection<br />
For people and things that went before<br />
I know I&#8217;ll often stop and think about them<br />
In my life I love you more</p></blockquote>
<p>CJ invited me to spend the Holy Week at the seminary. Only during Holy Wednesday, after work, when I made the final decision to pack my bag and go. We stayed at the Cogliandro House for 4 days and followed the preparation and meal schedule of the seminary while the rest we spent having our personal meditation / contemplation / confession / sleep (ahem!) / and chat. We even both had the chance of going to nanay Diding for his hilot and some halo-halo at Tropical Hut.</p>
<p>We came back there to make a restart in life and the Beatles&#8217; song <em>&#8220;In My Life&#8221;</em> was a perfect song to contemplate with.</p>
<p>Changes have happened since we left. But familiar things, things that made it home for us, still remain. The people with the old banters. The old tiles. The old knobs. the old prayers. We have left treasures hidden by our soul to the very ground where Don Bosco&#8217;s dreams are made. Once in a while, we know we could come back and relish the fond memories which we once called life.</p>
<blockquote><p>Though I know I&#8217;ll never lose affection<br />
For people and things that went before<br />
I know I&#8217;ll often stop and think about them<br />
In my life I love you more<br />
In my life I love you more</p></blockquote>
<p><a href="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/empty-room.jpg"><img src="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/empty-room.jpg?w=500&#038;h=666" alt="" title="empty room" width="500" height="666" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-273" /></a> <em>on the third day, the room (2nd floor #3 cogliandro house) was found empty</em>. </p>
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			<media:title type="html">empty room</media:title>
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		<title>Canlubang</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/03/28/canlubang/</link>
		<comments>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/03/28/canlubang/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 28 Mar 2011 12:07:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Yesterday, I went to Canlubang for a little get together for the send-off party for the incoming Novices planned by the batch. I came a little too early so I decided to take a little stroll around this small town &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/03/28/canlubang/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=256&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Yesterday, I went to Canlubang for a little get together for the send-off party for the incoming Novices planned by the batch.</p>
<p>I came a little too early so I decided to take a little stroll around this small town before the 10:30 mass.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/back-chapel.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-257" title="back chapel" src="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/back-chapel.jpg?w=500&#038;h=944" alt="" width="500" height="944" /></a> <em>This pathway at the back of the chapel leads to the cemetery where Salesians in the Philippines are finally laid to rest.</em></p>
<p>They said that in Canlubang, children were born wearing baseball gloves. But today in this field, I saw goats instead of baseball players. I was a bit disappointed but when I continued walking to the edge of the golf course, I saw a bunch of kids catching baseballs. I few more steps and I saw kids playing tennis at a nearby court. I guess this place isn&#8217;t that hopeless (when it comes to sports) at all.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;">
<a href="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/canlubang-barons.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-258" title="canlubang barons" src="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/canlubang-barons.jpg?w=500&#038;h=187" alt="" width="500" height="187" /></a><br />
<em>Canlubang Barons Baseball Team</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><a href="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/dsc00036.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-259" title="DSC00036" src="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/dsc00036.jpg?w=500&#038;h=375" alt="" width="500" height="375" /></a>Canlubang Baseball Diamond.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><a href="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/dsc00040.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-260" title="DSC00040" src="http://markinton.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/dsc00040.jpg?w=500&#038;h=666" alt="" width="500" height="666" /></a>Wooden bridge to the golf course.</em></p>
<p>These are just some few photos why I love this place and I love coming back once in a while. I&#8217;ll try to be back for more photos, perhaps bring my  film camera and take more black and whites, halo-halo, and bonding time with some sems. <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
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			<media:title type="html">canlubang barons</media:title>
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		<title>I Like Lent (via Chance Seales)</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/03/11/i-like-lent-via-chance-seales/</link>
		<comments>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/03/11/i-like-lent-via-chance-seales/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 11 Mar 2011 13:53:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Here&#8217;s an interesting reflection for Lent. I&#8217;m afraid I haven&#8217;t decided on what Lenten penance I would offer. Maybe I could&#8230; It&#039;s that time of year again.  After Presidents&#039; Day furniture sales, it&#039;s only a hop, skip and a jump &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/03/11/i-like-lent-via-chance-seales/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=254&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Here&#8217;s an interesting reflection for Lent. I&#8217;m afraid I haven&#8217;t decided on what Lenten penance I would offer. Maybe I could&#8230;<br />
<blockquote cite='http://chanceseales.wordpress.com/?p=1969' style='overflow:hidden;'>
<p><a href='http://chanceseales.wordpress.com/?p=1969' title='Chance Seales'><img src="http://chanceseales.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/relevantmag1.jpg?w=120&#038;h=100&#038;h=100" width="120" height="100" alt="I Like Lent" class="align-left thumbnail alignleft left" style="max-width:100%;" /></a> It&#039;s that time of year again.  After Presidents&#039; Day furniture sales, it&#039;s only a hop, skip and a jump to Lent.  Last year I gave up gossiping.  This year, something harder. First, I&#039;m not Catholic.  My closest association is several years of Sunday night mass  as an undergrad at St. Louis University.  Protestan &#8230; <a href='http://chanceseales.wordpress.com/?p=1969' title='Chance Seales'>Read More</a></p>
</blockquote>
<p>via <a href='http://chanceseales.wordpress.com/?p=1969' title='Chance Seales'>Chance Seales</a></p>
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			<media:title type="html">I Like Lent</media:title>
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		<title>The Prayer That I Forgot</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/03/05/the-prayer-that-i-forgot/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Mar 2011 11:48:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[prayers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[reflections]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://markinton.wordpress.com/?p=250</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I was arranging some books when I decided to open one and found myself in front of a beautiful prayer ninong Paulo Coelho wrote; Lord, protect our doubts, because Doubt is a way of praying. It is Doubt that makes &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/03/05/the-prayer-that-i-forgot/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=250&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I was arranging some books when I decided to open one and found myself in front of a beautiful prayer ninong <a href="http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2007/07/13/the-prayer-that-i-forgot-2/comment-page-1/#comment-663174">Paulo Coelho</a> wrote;</p>
<blockquote><p>Lord, protect our doubts, because Doubt is a way of praying. It is Doubt that makes us grow because it forces us to look fearlessly at the many answers that exist to one question. And in order for this to be possible…</p>
<p>Lord, protect our decisions, because making Decisions is a way of praying. Give us the courage, after our doubts, to be able to choose between one road and another. May our YES always be a YES and our NO always be a NO. Once we have chosen our road, may we never look back nor allow our soul to be eaten away by remorse. And in order for this to be possible…</p>
<p>Lord, protect our actions, because Action is a way of praying. May our daily bread be the result of the very best that we carry within us. May we, through work and Action, share a little of the love we receive. And in order for this to be possible…</p>
<p>Lord, protect our dreams, because to Dream is a way of praying. Make sure that, regardless of our age or our circumstances, we are capable of keeping alight in our heart the sacred flame of hope and perseverance. And in order for this to be possible…</p>
<p>Lord, give us enthusiasm, because Enthusiasm is a way of praying. It is what binds us to the Heavens and to Earth, to grown-ups and to children, it is what tells us that our desires are important and deserve our best efforts. It is Enthusiasm that reaffirms to us that everything is possible, as long as we are totally committed to what we are doing. And in order for this to be possible…</p>
<p>Lord, protect us, because Life is the only way we have of making manifest Your miracle. May the earth continue to transform seeds into wheat, may we continue to transmute wheat into bread. And this is only possible if we have Love; therefore, do not leave us in solitude. Always give us Your company, and the company of men and women who have doubts, who act and dream and feel enthusiasm, and who live each day as if it were totally dedicated to Your glory.</p>
<p>Amen</p></blockquote>
<p>I am in a part of my life right now, where I am in need to be reminded of all these wonderful words. I doubt the possibilities of my life ahead because I am faced with so much tragedy. Fear then enters, but I decide not to let go of the possibilities. Instead, I try to let go of my fears, then my doubts, and then try to act and move on towards the blessings prepared for me ahead.</p>
<p>I&#8217;m hoping that you too, dear reader, may be reminded of this simple thought and be able to share God&#8217;s miracle in your life.</p>
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			<media:title type="html">markinton</media:title>
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		<title>amici</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/02/25/amici/</link>
		<comments>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/02/25/amici/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 25 Feb 2011 04:23:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[prayers]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Sirach 4:5-17 A pleasant voice multiplies friends, and a gracious tongue multiplies courtesies. Let those that are at peace with you be many, but let your advisers be one in a thousand. When you gain a friend, gain him through &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/02/25/amici/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=245&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Sirach 4:5-17</strong></p>
<p>A pleasant voice multiplies friends, and a gracious tongue multiplies courtesies.<br />
Let those that are at peace with you be many, but let your advisers be one in a thousand.<br />
When you gain a friend, gain him through testing, and do not trust him hastily.<br />
For there is a friend who is such at his own convenience, but will not stand by you in your day of trouble.<br />
And there is a friend who changes into an enemy, and will disclose a quarrel to your disgrace.<br />
And there is a friend who is a table companion, but will not stand by you in your day of trouble.<br />
In prosperity he will make himself your equal, and be bold with your servants;<br />
but if you are brought low he will turn against you, and will hide himself from your presence.<br />
Keep yourself far from your enemies, and be on guard toward your friends.<br />
A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter: he that has found one has found a treasure.<br />
There is nothing so precious as a faithful friend, and no scales can measure his excellence.<br />
A faithful friend is an elixir of life; and those who fear the Lord will find him.<br />
Whoever fears the Lord directs his friendship aright, for as he is, so is his neighbor also.</p>
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			<media:title type="html">markinton</media:title>
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		<title>Fill Me</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/02/03/fill-me/</link>
		<comments>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/02/03/fill-me/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Feb 2011 10:31:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[prayers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[reflections]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://markinton.wordpress.com/?p=233</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[In my attempt in finding the right job, I&#8217;ve met a lot of those so called assholes. I will not apologize for saying that. I&#8217;m writing this post with the most politically correct words I could muster. Two days ago, &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/02/03/fill-me/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=233&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>In my attempt in finding the right job, I&#8217;ve met a lot of those so called assholes. I will not apologize for saying that. I&#8217;m writing this post with the most politically correct words I could muster. Two days ago, I spent 15 minutes of my life receiving such foulness. Good morning Mark!</p>
<p>After leaving the job with an asshole for a boss, I felt liberated but at the same time vulnerable. Thinking of what to do next was impossible. I was walking towards the right direction (away from that office) without putting a thought about it until I found myself kneeling in front of God.</p>
<p><em>Lord, I can&#8217;t blame You for what has just happened. I know I&#8217;ve blamed you before, many times, about the messes in my life. This time I know it&#8217;s not the right thing to do. Ever. But I can&#8217;t understand what&#8217;s happening to me right now. Lord, I need to walk, walk with me.</em></p>
<p>So I walked around finding a spot to fill a numbed stomach. A sigh. A bite. A deep void. Soggy fries didn&#8217;t seem to matter. the spaghetti, forgettable. Diet Coke did not quench. I&#8217;m going to walk again. To a familiar place. Then I found myself kneeling again. Sobbing.</p>
<p><em>Lord, I&#8217;m falling apart. No, not here. I&#8217;d like to fall into pieces in the right place with the right person around. Not here.</em></p>
<p>I stood up, brushed my knees and washed my eyes. I walked towards another street, crossing a border to wait for a bus to a place I once called home.</p>
<p><em>Lord, hold me &#8217;til I reach that place. Don&#8217;t let me break here.</em></p>
<p>Smiling people welcomed me. I smiled back at them. But I&#8217;m not sure whether I&#8217;m smiling for the right reason, I&#8217;m defying my senses. I sat at the back of the Chapel. Sighed. Prayed. Fell apart.</p>
<p><em>Lord, fill me.</em></p>
<p>I walked around, the old walk ways feeling the wind surrounding me. Peace and shame danced around me. Then, I went to a place where I used to talk to a priest about some troubles and with whom I also shared some pieces of chocolates with. I remembered having a chocolate bar in my bag so I broke a piece and placed it where I usually put it, by the corner of his tomb stone.</p>
<p><em>Father&#8230; I don&#8217;t know what&#8217;s happening. I don&#8217;t know. I don&#8217;t know.</em></p>
<p>Then I walked towards the familiar people. They&#8217;re playing games. Again, smiling beyond my senses. Sat there for quite some time until I found the strength to stand up, to walk towards the office a man who always know the sound of my soul. I knocked and he opened the door.</p>
<p><em>&#8220;I knew you were coming. Someone told me you were coming.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;So a little bird told you about me coming, huh! Who father?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Someone told me this morning, &#8216;Mark Inton will be coming, he will help you with that!&#8217;&#8221;</em></p>
<p>We had a chat. A kind that I&#8217;ve been missing for a very long time now. I thought I&#8217;d be the one to break down. To my surprise, He&#8217;s in some kind of battle himself. As much as I needed someone that day, that very moment, to catch me, I found myself trying to catch another soul in distress.</p>
<p>He gave me a cookie. It felt like a feast.</p>
<p>The night wind has arrived, &#8217;twas time for me to leave. I did that day what I had to do. Diplomacy can happen after all. I waited for a bus back to Manila and remembered a bar of chocolate in my bag. &#8220;Fill me,&#8221; my stomach said.</p>
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		<title>Mark Inton</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/01/14/mark-inton/</link>
		<comments>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/01/14/mark-inton/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 14 Jan 2011 13:36:24 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[facebook status]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tweet]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Don Bosco]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[don bosco academy]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://markinton.wordpress.com/?p=229</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[went back to the place where he first met the man they call father, teacher, and friend. he sat near the fountain to reminisce the good old days he spent there living, working, learning, laughing, crying, day dreaming, eating squidballs, &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/01/14/mark-inton/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=229&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>went back to the place where he first met the man they call father, teacher, and friend. he sat near the fountain to reminisce the good old days he spent there living, working, learning, laughing, crying, day dreaming, eating squidballs, meeting new friends, and saying goodbyes. gosh, the night&#8217;s too short! Don Giovanni, have a safe trip! <img src='http://s0.wp.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' /> </p>
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		<title>2011: Manual for conserving paths</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/01/03/2011-manual-for-conserving-paths/</link>
		<comments>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2011/01/03/2011-manual-for-conserving-paths/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 03 Jan 2011 12:13:07 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[daydreams]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[journal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[reflections]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[paulo coelho]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://markinton.wordpress.com/?p=227</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[2011: Manual for conserving paths « Paulo Coelho&#8217;s Blog. What a great way to start one&#8217;s year by recognizing that this life we have is a journey. With paths to follow, to leave behind, and to love.<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=227&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2011/01/01/manual-for-conserving-paths/">2011: Manual for conserving paths « Paulo Coelho&#8217;s Blog</a>.</p>
<p>What a great way to start one&#8217;s year by recognizing that this life we have is a journey. With paths to follow, to leave behind, and to love.</p>
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		<title>A Dialogue with Don Bosco</title>
		<link>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2010/12/25/a-dialogue-with-don-bosco/</link>
		<comments>http://markinton.wordpress.com/2010/12/25/a-dialogue-with-don-bosco/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 24 Dec 2010 18:44:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>markinton</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[daydreams]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[journal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Don Bosco]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Relic Pilgrimage]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[St. John Bosco]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Buona sera, Don Giovanni! Ti ricordi di me? I practiced my little Italian on my way to view the relic of Don Bosco. I’m a big fan of his work and the legacy he left, which included a spaghetti recipe &#8230; <a href="http://markinton.wordpress.com/2010/12/25/a-dialogue-with-don-bosco/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=markinton.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5574544&amp;post=212&amp;subd=markinton&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>Buona sera, Don Giovanni! Ti ricordi di me?</em></p>
<p>I practiced my little Italian on my way to view the relic of Don Bosco. I’m a big fan of his work and the legacy he left, which included a spaghetti recipe named after him which they used to serve in a coffee shop for his friends. I’ve waited for so long to see him in this pilgrimage.</p>
<p>As I got near him, my prepared speech blocked my throat. If you were there, you would only see me patiently waiting for my turn to view the relic. But inside, my heart was exploding confetti, fireworks, brass band, and every circus acts known. It was unbelievable! It was spectacular! I was at awe!</p>
<p>The few seconds that I was in front touching the glass case of his relic felt like time was extended to a whole evening of conversations. <strong>“Yes, of course I remember you!”</strong> Don Bosco replied.</p>
<p><strong>“Remember that note I gave you before you went for your retreat in Batulao?”</strong><br />
<em>“Yes, you even gave me the instructions on how to get there. I really thank you for that. I discovered a lot about my inner most desires in that retreat.”</em></p>
<p><strong>“How about your first goal in football?”</strong><br />
<em>“Yes, I remember you cheering for me every game time. You were my biggest fan! I will always remember that time when you said to me that finally I looked like a real football player. I felt like a star!”</em></p>
<p><strong>“Haha! Of course you are. Not because you’ve got world cup potentials but I saw that you enjoyed every game you played.”</strong><br />
<em>“I did! You were always there sitting on your old bike, watching every game.”</em></p>
<p><strong>“Yes, the bike you don’t know how to turn the lock off!”</strong><br />
<em>“O well, that really was a shame. But thank you for letting me ride that old bike. I enjoyed riding around with it. It gave me freedom from the old grinder once in while.”</em></p>
<p><strong>“Just a little consolation. I know you need your time and space for a little freedom of your own. You get full most of the time and things get heavy in your heart.”</strong><br />
<em>“Don Bosco, thanks for listening to me when I told you about my dreams, latest love interests, heartbreaks, hesitations. Thanks for the beer you shared with me one afternoon out. Thanks for that little ride we made around the golf course in Canlubang. Thanks for standing with me near the fountain when I cried about leaving.”</em></p>
<p><strong>“But you never really left!”</strong><br />
<em>“I can’t! How could I? You’re one of the persons who helped in raising me.”</em></p>
<p><strong>“Yes. I watched you grow up. You played hard when you were a kid. Sneaking inside my juniorate building, what where you thinking? Haha! You’re one rebellious Dominic. I have lots of fond memories with you, Mark.”</strong><br />
<em>“I will always remember you too Don Bosco! I will never forget your advice to me on finding happiness in life and for me to continue growing in love. Thank you for making me feel like your dearest. There’s a long line of visitors for you, I must move now. We’ll see each other again anyway. Thanks for your time tonight.”</p>
<p>Arrividerci!</em></p>
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