This Is What I Love

Have you ever felt the breeze gently caressing your cheeks, it’s invisible hand offering a feeling of comfort? Have you listened intently to the sound of falling rain and felt some old feelings rise to the surface once again? Have you looked around you and felt the awe at the beauty that surrounds you; the magnificence of God’s creation that is all yours to enjoy for free? The saying we meet so often applies to this situation…”We often take for granted the things we always see…”

In this fast paced life that we live in, we most often tend to forget that we are surrounded by beauty. We are too caught up in our pursuit of wealth, power and prestige and take for granted the breath taking and captivating beauty of nature. We are driven by different forces or pushed around by sometimes stellar yet unreachable ambitions and forget that our existence is not only limited to the acquisition of worldly materials and human acclaim. Oh yes, once we have ourselves looked upon as powerful and mighty, we feel a sort of jubilation…an empty triumph maybe, because at last, we have reaped the fruits of our perseverance. But if we look deeper into the innermost recesses of our hearts, can we really claim to be truly happy? Can we truly say we are at peace and content with the material things we possess? Can real happiness be equated with a fat bank account and buying everything our mercenary hearts so desire? Can all the riches in the world ever compare with the simple joy of feeling the peace of being one with the universe?

I love humanity… I love my brothers and sisters and would want them to experience the simple joys of living…not the hurry of the materially satisfying existence. I love to think that no matter how impossible, all of us will do some introspection and some reflection to ask ourselves how we will honestly feel if all of the beauty around us will suddenly perish before our very eyes … in place for all the power, the wealth and the prestige. I love to think that with this humble composition, I can make a difference — even a tiny impact on my reader’s lives…

And this is what I love…

Life’s Seasons

There are times when we feel happy; when we feel that everything we have ever hoped for has finally been laid on our platter. These are times of rejoicing, my dear friend, because God, in all His generosity and love, has blessed us and has answered our prayers. Happy times are times of praising the Lord who has provided us with everything we have ever needed — and the added bonus of giving us the things we want to possess so we can live a life of comfort. But happy times are not always spiritually fruitful times. When the flood of obstacles starts to recede, the distance between the soul and its Maker becomes wider. There are moments when, too engulfed in the small victory of acquiring the “something” which took us a few years of hard work to produce, we forget to say a simple “Thank you” to the One who has given us life.

There are times when we feel sad. These are the times when a plan has not worked out according to how we thought it would. These are times when we have lost something — or someone — and we think that life just isn’t worth living anymore. These are times of accepting that sometimes, all we can ever do is look up to the Father in faith, not in understanding — for there are things we can never understand no matter how intellectually gifted we are. These are times of faithfulness, my dear friends. These are times of holding on to God’s faithfulness — or this might be God’s wake-up call to us that we have been looking too long adoringly at the things and persons which are proofs of how blessed we are instead of looking up with thankfulness and gratefulness to the One who has blessed us with all that we enjoy.

There are times of confusion…times when we feel at a loss as to where our lives are leading to; times when we have it all and yet we haven’t felt the fulfillment, the contentment, the triumph which we have expected to envelop us as we sip the wine of our success. These are times when our hearts feel the emptiness — the searching for something — or for someone we don’t know about. Could it be our souls trying to tell us it’s about time we reintroduce it to its Maker? Could it be that time when God has touched our hearts and told us, “I have been waiting for you” … and instead of looking at Him straight in the face, we look the other way instead pretending that we did not hear Him?

There are times of indifference. These are times when we just don’t care anymore; times when we are weary of all the false gold that blinds us with its fake brilliance. But aren’t times like these a time to rejoice? For it is in these times that we get to recognize what’s real from what’s not. Times of indifference are the times when we should reflect on the course our lives are leading, when we set new goals and foster new friendships.

Yes, my friend, our lives go through seasons because of a reason — GOD. The happiness fades to make way to sorrow — for can we appreciate happiness if we haven’t known how it is to be sad? The confusion … the indifference … these are seasons we should all go through because we are alive. And as we go on living the lives we have chosen to live, the cycle begins over and over again … until finally, our souls find peace in the waiting arms of its Maker.

We Can Paint With All The Colors of the Wind

Too many senseless violence has been happening all over the globe . For what reason? For a lot of different reasons — religions, ideologies, cultures, way of life, philosophies — which supposedly should have contributed something good to humanity. The things I have mentioned aren’t evil. It’s just sometimes, fanatical followers distort what has been fundamentally laid as something humane.

Why can’t we just create harmony amidst our diversity? Isn’t it that the guitar, having 6 strings with different musical tones, can still create a powerful harmony of sound that can move the heart? Can’t we set aside the PRIDE at the thought that we are better than the rest and just live with each other and for each other?

This song has been a timeless favorite of mine. The first time I heard this sung by Vanessa Williams, I was moved by its lyrics and reflected on how nice it would be if all of us, citizens of this planet, can finally paint with all the “COLORS OF THE WIND”.

COLORS OF THE WIND
(performed by Vanessa Williams)

You think you own whatever land you land on
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know every rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name

You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
You’ll learn things you never knew you never knew

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or ask the grinning bobcat why he grinned
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind

Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun sweet berries of the earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once never wonder what they’re worth

The rainstorm and the rivers are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
And we’re all connected to each other
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or let the eagle tell you where he’s been
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind

How high does the sycamore grow?
If you cut it down, then you’ll never know…

And you’ll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper skinned
We need to sing with all the voices of the mountain
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
We can own the earth and still all we own is earth until
We can paint with all the colors of the wind….

Feeling Weary

I just have to blog about it or I’ll snap… I feel tired and weary and sleepy and yet sleep eludes me. I feel emotionally spent. It seems that everything I have done ever since I can remember have been directed at other people’ s welfare … leaving me drained to the ebb … financially and EMOTIONALLY.

It’s the day after the fiesta and father’s abuse of the beverages has finally paid off… he wouldn’t tell me, but I could tell he is not feeling well. He drank without taking in food for the whole day for two days and today, he has been lying down for half the day. I am appearing stoic and unaffected in front of him, but deep inside, I am worried as hell. I feel all the load’s been laid on my shoulders. While it’s true that I get mad at him for being a drunkard and for being irresponsible not only to us but also to himself, I can’t help but be afraid at what might be happening next. Cash is low. I haven’t even paid the hard disk yet — and here comes another inevitable expense — whatever it is. I want to just disappear for a while and bring my kids with me to wherever that peaceful place might be and rest my weary self — even for a while. But I know that no matter how strong my resolve is to leave, I can’t do it. I know I can’t leave my father in the lurch. I know I will always be haunted at what might happen to him while me and the kids are somewhere else. I still love him despite his many flaws and will always love him not because he is perfect but because he is my father.

Ever since I can remember, I have always been chasing dreams without any plan whatsoever for myself — but for my family — I spent my youth trying to reach my dream and working for a college diploma because I wanted my parents and my siblings to taste a much better life than the impoverished one we have known all so well. When I first had a job, I didn’t even find it that important to buy myself clothes or jewelries or perfumes and shoes — my earnings went to my parents — I only saved enough to last me till the next payday because it made me feel fulfilled to give everything to them. When I met Efren and he expressed his intentions to marry me, I told him I did not need a wealthy or a handsome husband. I told him I needed someone who would understand that I couldn’t just leave my family struggling to make ends meet each day — that I had plans of supporting the college education of my younger brothers and sister. And God has blessed me with an unselfish man who told me he was going to help me financially — and he did. For my sister, we did not support her through college because she got married to an American who has supported her pursuit of education. She is now a nurse. It was my younger brother whom we supported through college till he completed his BS in Criminology. He now works in Manila. Our youngest brother is not studying as he is still waiting for the petition papers to be approved. I am now supporting my cousin —- the son of my uncle who sent me through college — an act of gratitude to an uncle who had been generous enough to have made me what I am today because my father can not. It’s too much, you would say, but perhaps I am created this way. I couldn’t just look at someone who needs my help and then pretend I did not see and look the other way.

But there are times when I wish I were stoic enough to not care what happens around me — to pretend I am unaffected; to really feel nothing and not be affected by anything. But when will it happen? This is one of those days…but when will that day come when I will see my father lying there feeling so sick and I would simply shrug my shoulders and say, “He deserves what he is going through.”? When can I truly say I am leaving him to fend for himself and not feel guilty or anything? And why have I been born to a culture that upholds close family ties?

I feel foolish asking all these questions because I know that what I am and who I am and where I am at the present is predestined by God. I feel foolish because I know everything works according to a Divine Plan and yet I am asking for the rationale of things which I couldn’t even comprehend. It’s just that I am weary. I want to rest for a while and pretend that am not affected — that I am a different person who can be indifferent and unfeeling — someone different from the person that I really am.

I feel so weary… my heart feels so heavy. It’s late in the night and I hope, the morning to come will usher in a better day. I hope… I have faith…

I am faithful to a faithful God… and I am looking up to Him in faith and laying out my weary heart for Him to carry.

And I seem to hear God say, “If life were perfect, would you still know me?”

The Wind Beneath My Wings… Mama

Mother — this word holds a whole world of varied meanings. As with all others, everyone conjures different pictures in his/her mind when the word is heard. And the picture changes with every stage in life that one goes through.

I haven’t grown up with my own mother because I was told I was sickly as a child and being the eldest child of a pampered daughter, the grannies found it best to take care of the “baby” me. But both my parents lived nearby and we would see each other everyday.

Today, I would share with you how the meaning of the word “MOTHER” changed for me through the years.

In my infancy, mama had been my lifeline. Without her constant loving care, I wouldn’t have been here by now. I didn’t grow up on cow’s milk like all of my siblings. We have all been breastfed and those who have gone through breast feeding can attest that it is no easy feat to wake up just when one has just drifted off to sleep because the baby has demanded for his food. I couldn’t remember much about what happened back then, but I see fragments of pictures… of both my parents and my grandparents rearing me and me having grown up a bit spoiled by the grannies.

In childhood, mama was the monster with the guava branch. I could still picture her with both hands planted on the waist, eyes wide and blabbering like a radio that’s just been loaded with new batteries,
. And I always had choices then — I could choose to run as far away as I can or hide behind my grandfather (my mother’s father). Both ways, I could be certain the guava branch won’t hurt me. With me running far, mother can’t keep up and they guava branch can’t do any damage. If I hide behind my grandpa, it would be grandpa who will be hit with the guava branch,

. I still remember that so well. But mama was the one who carried the rod. She imposed rules on us which we had to religiously stick to if we don’t want to be whipped. We had been assigned chores, imposed with curfews — and whoever comes home after dusk will be punished. She chose our friends, didn’t give all day to roam around and play. We could play of course, but everything had been controlled. Looking back now, I didn’t understand it then. I felt rebellious as I felt suffocated. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t given the freedom which other children obviously had. Mother, to me, was too possessive and too overprotective. It wasn’t until I was into my young adulthood — when most of my friends were either impregnated or married because they’d gotten pregnant — that I understood why I was being cooped up. She did those things because she was looking ahead into my future and knew well enough that if I wasn’t dealt with the way she dealt with me, I would have been one of those friends who have miserable lives because of getting all the freedom all too soon…

. And I always had choices then — I could choose to run as far away as I can or hide behind my grandfather (my mother’s father). Both ways, I could be certain the guava branch won’t hurt me. With me running far, mother can’t keep up and they guava branch can’t do any damage. If I hide behind my grandpa, it would be grandpa who will be hit with the guava branch,

. I still remember that so well. But mama was the one who carried the rod. She imposed rules on us which we had to religiously stick to if we don’t want to be whipped. We had been assigned chores, imposed with curfews — and whoever comes home after dusk will be punished. She chose our friends, didn’t give all day to roam around and play. We could play of course, but everything had been controlled. Looking back now, I didn’t understand it then. I felt rebellious as I felt suffocated. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t given the freedom which other children obviously had. Mother, to me, was too possessive and too overprotective. It wasn’t until I was into my young adulthood — when most of my friends were either impregnated or married because they’d gotten pregnant — that I understood why I was being cooped up. She did those things because she was looking ahead into my future and knew well enough that if I wasn’t dealt with the way she dealt with me, I would have been one of those friends who have miserable lives because of getting all the freedom all too soon…

In my pursuit of a college profession, mama had been the inspiration. I was living in Ozamiz City as a part of another family, but mama had always been the reason why I have dreamed as high as I dared to dream. I dreamed that one day, I would be able to let her have a sip at a better life — something she wasn’t able to enjoy while we were growing up because my father wasn’t the good provider that he was supposed to be. Mama found ways and means to augment whatever was earned by father — hand sewing pillow cases and blankets from cloth remnants and selling them to whomever got interested. She sold a lot because she had been and still is a good designer. I remember mama braving it all — a jealous, manic and irresponsible husband, four kids, no job — I remember mama wanting to give up but choosing to hold on because of us, four kids. I remember mama getting all too tired of the situation she was in and getting it all out on us, her children…but who could blame her? Mama had been my inspiration while striving to make a better life for myself because I had vowed that I would one day get her off the rut that she had known ever since she married my father.

When I first fell in love, mama had been my confidante. I had friends of course, but telling it to mama had seemed like the most appropriate thing to do. When I first had a boyfriend, I told her about it. She didn’t have to worry that much though… I was already 20. I let her read the love letters and she would share a piece of her mind. Oh, she didn’t say anything bad about Jerry, my first boyfriend — only telling me that if I choose to marry the man, she won’t disagree, but she’d be stomping and crying like a child who’s been denied a cone of ice cream in the middle of the road. Now, if you had been me, what would you make out of the situation? But with Efren, she didn’t have anything to say. I guess, what people say about the parents’ gut feeling on the intended lover of their children is correct. It seems they see the things we choose to ignore. I’m glad I listened to Mama because if I didn’t my life wouldn’t have been anything different from the life she has had… I know because Mama had followed her heart instead of listening to her parents’ advise against marrying my father… Mama had been and still is a mirror to me…

When I got married, mama had been the steadying hand. When I felt uncertain and was overwhelmed with the newness of it all, I had always relied on the stability of mother’s judgment and took it for granted that she was always there. I didn’t fear anything because I have been certain of her presence in my life. It didn’t bother me that Efren would be leaving me for months every year because there had always been my mama. When the children were growing up, I didn’t worry that some nanny would beat them while I am away because I was confident that I had left them in the care of the one person who loves them as much as I do … my Mama. When the children got sick, I didn’t worry too much because Mama shared the anxiety with me. Mama, had been the wind beneath my wings.

Mama is no longer with me… she’s flown to Ohio to join my sister. In my earlier blogs… especially the ones right after she left, I had been telling about the adjustment I was and still am going through to stand strong on my own — I have a husband, but his work keeps him far way. I have my father nearby, but I can’t count on him. It has not been easy; it will never be easy, but if anything, her departure has been the springboard that I needed to jump from where I had been — the dependent daughter to the self-sufficient wife and mother. I know it will never be easy, but I also know I will make it through — because I am my mother’s daughter; because even despite the distance, I can still draw strength and inspiration from one remarkable woman — the wind beneath my wings — MY MAMA.

Philippine Democracy Redefined … Just A Silly Thought

With the “force and a bit of threat” these powerful people in offices enforce on its Local Government workers AND — on the immediate families of the local government workers, it’s even funny to hold elections at all. Philippine elections are like scripted plays. Everyone moves and acts the way the director wants everything done . And most often, it’s the incumbent official who “enforces” these “LEGAL stealing of individual right to vote”. I highlighted the word legal because it appears that the Filipino public considers illegal acts as something legal because the leaders are the ones enforcing them.

Darn, but I just have to write about this all over again especially when I was able to speak with someone who was working as a utility man in the town somewhere. I asked who won and was informed that it’s the incumbent mayor. I will not add any more adjective or another word to describe him — just mayor. I am afraid I might be able to put in more than I should. The opponent was from the opposition and who was the people’s pet before elections. Every time they had issues, problems or anything, they always approached this opposition wannabe mayor because he was more approachable, he was more open, he was more the mayor than the one who was in office — but unfortunately he did not make it because of this strict enforcement of voting straight. As a result, it’s the incumbent mayor who has been “ELECTED” (I would like to laugh out loud at the hypocrisy of the word! ) again.

I asked why. This wannabe mayor only gave 200 pesos per voter because, he is not a well-off man. Besides, he belongs to the opposition. The opponent, on the other hand — the incumbent mayor, is not also that well off but received “blessings” from their “lord above” (see that the word lord isn’t capitalized…) and thus, was able to distribute a thousand pesos to each voter. This certain man I talked with expressed deep hearted support to the opposition because he saw who’s more appropriate to hold the position — but because he works in the local government as utility worker, he’d been threatened that if he won’t vote straight (Voting straight means voting for everyone in the party regardless of whether they’re good or not), he’d be sacked from his job. So you see, it’s not really an election — it’s but a puppet show. The puppeteer — the corrupt higher officials pull the strings and the poor people hopelessly dangle on the strings, dancing to a tune they don’t even like. I am wondering why at this point, we still hold these damn comical elections where we get to spend precious money only to come up with funny results in the end… Oh well, if we don’t, these people in office will be spending the money anyway making bridges in areas without rivers — well, they could always just build the river after these bridges have been built, hehehe.

In his Gettysburg Address, Abraham Lincoln aptly defined democracy as a government OF THE PEOPLE, BY THE PEOPLE and FOR THE PEOPLE. The present Philippine scenario still reflects the same “noble” vision — but only the homonym of the key words can best be used to describe it. Philippine democracy can now be redefined as a government OFF THE PEOPLE, BUY THE PEOPLE AND POOR THE PEOPLE.

Outside Looking In

Have you ever been in a situation where you ask yourself if you really know who you are and what you are? Has there been a time in your life when you felt that someone other than the “you” you have known for long acted and spoke like someone you did not know at all?

And was there ever a time when you were forced to give in… to act differently from the person you see yourself to be because you had to? Was there ever that certain time when you have put off everything that would bring you happiness because someone expected it of you? And every time things like these happen, have you felt that deep sense of self alienation because you behaved in a way which was so unlike you at all?

I guess, most of us go through those situations and most often, we do them because we are driven by forces beyond our control… or that, the situation might be dictated by a life and death circumstance — and not necessarily for the satisfaction of someone else.

Sometimes, while looking at my reflection on the mirror, I wonder if a person other than the one I have known myself to be resides behind the face which I call my own. A hidden monster perhaps? Or an angel waiting to emerge from my soul? But then again, it isn’t too rare a situation since everyone goes through this same episode of introspection — of looking into one’s own self in an attempt to discover and uncover the mysteries of his existence. It has been said that there are areas in our personalities that we know nothing about — areas that others know so well. Sometimes, we even feel that our colleagues and our closest friends know us better than we know ourselves. And the more we open up, the more we share of ourselves, facets of our personalities which we haven’t known before emerge — like a butterfly after a painful metamorphosis.

In each stage that we go through, it is most often the failure and the humbling of ourselves which leads us to know more about who we really are. I guess life runs this way; we never really truly learn who we are unless the “introduction” is made courtesy of some humbling incident. And after all is said and done, we look back and say, “Did I really do that?”

I have been traveling life’s uneven pathway for thirty four years and in all those years, I couldn’t really say I have learned everything — for life is a series of lessons that only ends when one finally breathes his last. In my 34 years of existence, I have uncovered and discovered skills and talents that I never knew I had — all because I was forced to; never because it was my choice to look deeper into myself to uncover them and to tap them. Oh well, I am not complaining to have been forced to see the real me and to have tapped those skills which had been hidden deep within because if I wasn’t pushed a bit, I wouldn’t have known the kind of freedom that I now enjoy.

The discovery of one’s true person and of the things that he can do is endless if only one does not limit himself with the face that looks back at him each time he looks at the mirror — for the mirror only reflects the face, but can never show what hides behind the face. The mirror reflects the area which hides the heart, but it can never uncover the fire of emotion that burns so fervently within. The mirror can reflect the head, but it can never expose the endless possibilities of life changing thoughts that simmer within.

To discover one’s true self, one has to start looking in into himself for the discovery of oneself is an endless and sometimes overwhelming pursuit; but it is the only way towards answering the question which one has been asking silently for so long…. WHO AM I???

Flawed Perfection

Perfection seems to be a thing too elusive to be caught by us, mere mortals, yet it’s one thing we so earnestly desire to achieve.    But is there someone amongst us who can wear the crown with the title “Mr. Perfect” or “Miss Perfect” without a tinge of guilt?

What does perfection stand for — for you, my friend? Is it the proportionally balanced and enchanting curve of the female form? Is it the masculinity exuded by the perfectly sculpted physique of the Adonis? Is it flawlessness and smoothness of pearly and creamy skin? Is it the welcoming glint of the eyes when the lips break into a smile?

Each one of us has his own criteria to judge that which we perceive to be perfect. Oftentimes, we limit ourselves to what’s pleasing to the senses … to what appears attractive and beautiful. Let’s take a beautiful gown as an example: elegant, exquisitely crafted, decorated and designed to stand out even when drowned among the many gowns on display. Someone picks it up, inspects it.  But suddenly, with a grimace or a smirk in the face, the shopper puts it back down to where it was originally placed in the unsold stack. There hangs the exquisitely crafted gown, splendid in all its elegance and craftsmanship. Unwanted? Maybe no… for how could something so beautiful and seemingly perfect  be not wanted and coveted by anyone?

What could have caused the shopper to return the gown? An imperfect fit? Probably — because not all items labeled as “One size, fits all” can really fit everyone to a T. Or the shopper might have seen  loose seams, lost sequins, broken buttons or smudges on the delicate cloth. After all,  many people could already have inspected it and may have unknowingly ruined the gown in the process.

This quest for perfection has led me to think about me — about us, humans. For those who don’t know us very well, we might, at a certain distance, appear like the gown: beautiful, exquisite, perfect. We radiate this certain charm that draws people to us. Unknowingly, we send signals across to others ; it sounds primitive, but it’s true all the same. The initial reaction — the attraction — doesn’t last however. In the process of knowing each other, we scrutinize and we are scrutinized — then we decide if something comes out of the relationship; be it friendly or romantic, or go our separate ways without an ounce of regret.

The quest for what’s perfect appears endless — that’s what idealism is there for, right? We get hurt, we get disillusioned — even bitter — but that doesn’t stop us from probing a little bit deeper each time into what we perceive perfection to be.

But when do we learn that on earth, there is no perfect beauty — that everything beautiful which our human gaze sets on is flawed? And when do we realize that the flaw is sometimes essential for the beauty to really be distinguishable — for it to really radiate brilliance like a beacon light that guides a ship toward a harbor?

We are surrounded by flawed individuals who, in their imperfection, love us unconditionally. We are loved, we feel loved and we love these imperfect people in our lives — so why search for perfection amongst us, mortals when we know we couldn’t find it? Why look someplace where it doesn’t exist?

If we want to look for perfection, all we’ve got to do is look up to God — for He is the only perfect persona. Or we can delve deeper into our hearts instead for it is only deep  within where our God of perfection can exist.

What Spells Success, My Friend?

When can we rightfully say that we are successful? What does it take for us to rightfully say we are on the top rung of the ladder? What is your answer, my dear friend?

Ever since I can remember, I have been raised believing the idea that we, Filipinos, have this crab mentality… meaning when one is on higher position, the people below will try anything and everything to pull him down. Envy, I guess, is the motive for such crab mentality. Having blogged regularly for more than three years in one of the social communities on the web, I have noticed that it isn’t only Filipinos who have this mentality within themselves. But with us Filipinos, the characteristic seems to be too defined and is embedded into our culture.

But not every issue raised is caused by envy. There are issues we need to face as realities — yet these could be realities that we wouldn’t dare face because they’re circumstances we are running away from. Sometimes, we misunderstand well-meaning people when they get quite personal because we have the snobbish mentality to think that because we are on top, these folks are out to pull us from our celestial haven and have us dropped unceremoniously amongst the pigs in the slums. We couldn’t accept these realities even when we deal with them in our every waking moment because we believe that we are impeccable.  We wouldn’t want to face the reality that we can commit mistakes… that we have shortcomings … that we have demons to overcome — and all because it is easier to point a finger to someone whom we thought had wronged us,  instead of us looking inside ourselves to see the specks that mar our souls. Anyone who thinks himself highly immunized from these human specks, the so-called human frailty is a big liar or just downright spiritually blind. And anyone who doesn’t know how to look into himself and accept and deal with the monster that lives within can never be rightfully called successful because successful people, for me at least, is someone who has successfully conquered his inner space and has established wholesome relationships with others… no masks worn … no masquerades, because really successful people can never wear masks for long. Their true colors will always show. Successful people don’t see any point in hiding their  true colors because they are confident with it.

Let’s face it — we can have all the money in the world. We can have all the fame. We can even add  titles to it to make it sound really astounding. But when all is said and done, when one is left alone in the privacy of the bedroom, when one is left alone with himself, what happens? Can he honestly pat his own shoulders and greet the image that meets his gaze in the mirror a hearty “congratulations” because he has truly done a great job — or was bothered by Mr. Conscience because he stepped on a few pesky feet who got on his way or if it were a she, she had sold her soul to the devil in exchange for all the fame and fortune?

After all the ceremonial lights go off, after the thunderous applause has died down and one can still honestly celebrate in his heart the joy that goes on a thousand years , then I could say he is truly successful. For I believe that a successful person is at peace with himself — one who does not need to hide behind position or prestige. A successful person is at peace with himself  because with God taking control at the helm, he feels confident that whatever the day brings, he can plow through them.

But for you, dearest friend, what spells success?

I Am A Crab…And (Not) Proud To Be One!

Sitting alone on my desk yet in the company of my students, I got me into thinking mode again — it seems the contemplative mood has been going on for days now. Something not too ordinary for me because I don’t consider myself the most contemplative person unless things which call for contemplation (sounds like Flor Contemplacion though, hehe) crop up. Though it’s a bit foolish to admit that this ongoing blogging saga has affected me even in my reverie (ahem…lalim noon, ah!)…I am not ashamed to admit that I am, indeed affected…because you know the answer as to why I am affected. (Hayaan nyo na lang kasi ako…)

Yahoo 360 is a virtual community where we are connected with people through words…and then, if circumstances allow, enable us to build lasting friendships in the real world. I have just mentioned that it is a community where words are used as medium of communication (eh, sa true to life, words pa din eh…labo mo!) — words that are vicious, friendly, loving, endearing, nurturing, hateful, spiteful, sarcastic —basta words, yon na yun! It is true that the pen — no, the keyboard — is mightier than the sword.

Most of us are aware that the whole world roams with us in this virtual community. We know that when we play, whether we play slyly, honestly or any way we do, the world sits in the sidelines watching us play our game. Most of us also know that a lot of us in this community have been wanting to address the issue of malice, scandals and intrigues — or at least prevent them from growing into gigantic proportions — before everything is dragged into the real arena —too far from the supposed anonymity and safety of the virtual realm. I guess, it’s time for these issues to be addressed to protect innocent lives and families who will undoubtedly be dragged into the murky limelight.

Venting out, we claim, is not all evil. I agree. After all, we only reacted to a certain stimuli. Venting isn’t bad. I do it every once in a while to let off steam…and hopefully get rid of negative energy (which successfully puts in more negative energy by the way).Vent out … but when venting out is already spiced with malice and is motivated by personal vendetta, I guess it’s time to reassess if the motivating factor for venting out is still legitimate and safe. Because sooner or later, whether each person is aware or not, when innocent lives have been jeopardised, demoralized and unwillingly dragged into the tangled web caused by what innocently started as a careless stroke of the pen and takes into real life actions in a hungry quest for revenge, everything will be too late. Then the sharing, the friendship which originally started out as fun becomes a nightmare.

I don’t plead innocent — I am a big liar if I say so. I haven’t been idly watching by the sidelines while all the games have been played. I am the biggest hypocrite if I say I haven’t taken part in making this virtual community of Filipinas and foreigners what it has become at present. And if everyon’e honest enough…the Filipinas concerned at least, they would admit that they have, in one way or another, fanned the fire of malice and hatred until it has blown into what it has become now. Fine, dear friends and fellow Filipinas, with a little help from each and everyone of us, we just have succeeded in showing the world just how much percentage of the CRAB we have in us. Doesn’t everyone deserve a hearty congratulations for that? And yet we point an accusing finger toward another crab for supposedly dragging us down when in fact, in all honesty, it was our own crabby clumsiness which caused us to slide from our “vantage point” perch in the comfortable container where we have been placed.

And I tell you, intelligent crabs like moi, the world is watching the ongoing prime time show with such gusto — I would even bet my singkong duling that they have their “manok” — the one whom they have groomed in their minds to emerge the victor. But why am I mentioning manok when we are supposedly talking about the crabs that we have proven ourselves to be — the concerned Filipinas of Yahoo 360…and that includes yours truly. If you want a standard bearer for us, crabs, I am in for a deal., hehe. O, walang hintuturong ipakita, ha…kakagatin ko ‘yan. Sabi nga ni Hitler (pero si Hitler nga ba ‘yon?), the moment you point a finger to someone, three fingers point back at you.. Ayan, nasama pati si Hitler. Baka pagkatapos nito, hindi lang mga galunggong, este crabs pala ang papapak sa ‘kin. Baka kako ma infect na ako ng German measles. “Sensya na. Biro lang po para gumaan naman ng konti ang mood…medyo mabigat kasi ang tira ko today, eh.

But… hindi pa ako tapos. Malayo pa ang final period so, kuha ka muna ng miryende, hane…nang hindi mangisay sa gutom.

To say peace and let bygones be bygones is nothing but hypocrisy at this point. If, an I’m sorry at this time is too difficult to speak…nakakabikig sa lalamunan — or too laborious to type kasi biglang napilay (???) ang hintuturo mo sa katataype (o sa kaka-pin point?), it is understandable. Hearts have been broken, relationships have been severed. Too many people haven’t had a peaceful sleep since this started. ‘Yung iba nga, ilang beses nang nagpalit ng reseta para sa alta presyon…feel nyo matigok na kayo? It’s never easy to let bygones be bygones and dismiss everything as water under the bridge. But if everyone’s mind is opened a bit wider — just anough to let me and my humble opinion in — (bakeet, sino ka vahhh?) they would agree with me when I say we can never resolve this issue unless someone shouts “CEASEFIRE!”. Stop the hurling of hurting words to and fro…kasi me nabubukol nang wala namang kinalaman. I could summarize what I am trying to say in this paragraph in the language of one year old kids: WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!! (Literal translation: Ang gugulo ninyo. Kung ‘di kayo titigil, pag-uuntugin ko’ng ulo ninyo!)

Silence, at this point, is indeed golden. I have an idea ngayon kung bakit mas mainam ang buhay ng bulag, ng pipi at ng bingi — walang pakialam sa mundo ‘ika nga. But don’t get me wrong. I am not giving any of my senses up…maybe in a hundred years, I would entertain the idea.

Kidding aside, my fellow Filipinas, where will this journey of spite and hatred end? And when? Are we going to watch in the sidelines and make our bet too? Why don’t we make a wee bit of difference? At alam kong alam mo kung ano ang magagawa mo, kapwa ko Pinay.

I am writing this in an attempt to stop — to put a period — to the saga. I know it won’t be easy because right now, the most popular keys in the kayboard are &*%$#@!)(_+…. But in time, in God’s perfect time, may pipindot din sa (.)… period ‘yan, tange… kala mo boob?

And with everything being said, I now put in my final period.