From sportswriter Bill Simmons:
When you dream about doing something for a long time, and then it happens, it's never actually as good as you think it would be. There's almost a surreal letdown of sorts after the fact. And it's impossible to explain unless it's happened to you. For instance, ever since I was in college, I dreamed of having my own sports column and covering a Boston team when they won a championship. That's all I wanted. In the spring of 2001, ESPN found me. Nine months later, my beloved Patriots went to the Super Bowl and shocked the Rams in New Orleans. I wrote about it every day, and on the morning after they won, my column ran on the front page of this Web site. Greatest professional moment of my life, right?
Well, something weird happened. After that game, I couldn't stop thinking, "All right, what happens now? What do I do? How can I top my dream moment?"
And the thing is, you can't. The moment happens, it ends, you celebrate and feel good about yourself … and then it's on to the next day, and you have to figure out what the next challenge is, and deep down, you're wondering why you didn't enjoy that watershed moment more than you thought you would. I don't know Theo [Epstein, erstwhile manager of the Red Sox], I have never met him, and the experience of being the general manager of the first Red Sox championship in 86 years was roughly 100,000,000 times more profound and important than my experience in New Orleans. But the fact remains, after that Super Bowl column, I struggled writing this column for the next seven to eight months; eventually, I ended up moving to California to write for a fledgling late-night television show. That Super Bowl trip changed everything for me.
Did something similar happen to Theo after winning the World Series? Is this what happened to David Caruso when he said, "Screw it, I don't need 'NYPD Blue' anymore?" On a much, much larger scale, is this what happened to talents like Dave Chappelle, Eddie Murphy, Kurt Cobain, Michael Jordan and everyone else who either walked away from their alleged dream job or sabotaged it in their prime? Is that why the Peggy Lee song "Is that all there is?" rings especially true in moments like these?
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Transience
Eid Mubarak!
The end of Ramadan signals renewal in the Muslim religion --- where the body and spirit are cleansed of impurities and the believer faces another year of trials. In Islam, there is no place but to surrender your SELF to a higher force --- for in its very name "to submit," Islam is more of a community religion than Christianity ever aspires to be.
But that's nitpicking, and as a heterodox Christian myself, I have no right to pontificate.
I'll space out for a few moments and reflect on what has happened to me while I have been here in the Middle East. The months of discovery have long passed and now it is a struggle not to be possessed by ennui. My initial reactions and impressions have been largely validated (or debunked, in a few minor cases), and in any case, I haven't written anything outside the OFW canon.
Life in the Middle East is a challenge to get used to, but once you get acclimated to it, it tends to become boring.
But hey, if I had wanted excitement, I would have taken the hard-knocks route to success here - either participating in, or being the instrument/victim/dupe of, illicit or immoral activities, or both. Or all of the above. Life is too short for us to bother with trifles, isn't it? (Kidding!)
This year I was hoping I could top the good 2004 that I had --- only to find that I am still working on last year's fumes. This could be dangerous, as there are rumblings that we will face job cuts --- while I am no slouch myself, my portfolio can be easily deemed "non-essential." I have also established myself as a sure-fire non-favorite of my Filipino boss. My fault entirely of course, though sometimes I give in to immature thoughts that he shouldn't play favorites... and then reality steps in and gives a firm slap: of course he should! He's human, after all!
Well, if and when I do end up getting the pink slip come this March, I've been a realist enough to gather as many back-up plans as I may be able to use. It's a survival mechanism from the old days when I was more job-shopping than holding down a permanent job. I don't want to leave this job - the pay is o.k. (of course there could always be more), I found some good friends, and so far I am still learning. The hard part really is that this may all end when I have just gotten people to accept my existence.
But there's no healthy ending to indulging in "what if's." Should that day come, like the professional that I am honing myself further, I will walk out with no regrets. I did enough for the job, and if they wanted more, well, they should take a reality check, given what they were paying, the work culture we were besmirched in, and what resources we were provided to accomplish the job.
Sigh... those words had to be said. Then they become part of the reality in which I choose to work. As if there is permanent positivity. Fat chance, buddy -- you need a little more growing up to do. Transience, transience is the theme of this life I have chosen, more so than any other lifestyle choice I have made in the last five years.
Things, though, have been looking over the past half-month or so. I arrested a few of my bad habits, got my groove to somewhat-normal levels, and lit a fire of urgency somewhere in my bowels. That's where the romance of discontent can bring you, dude. Excitement in the ride means creating a few moments of personal hell.
The pretension! The grand degree of it all! --- Oft-times I have to slap myself a little more to wake me up. This universe doesn't revolve around me --- it just feels that way, everyday.
But I love this life. As far as it goes, this is the best I have felt about myself for more than 10 years. Finally, this is a place where I can belong. Uprooted as I may be from the Philippines, I am more at home here in Saudi Arabia than anywhere else.
That is the gift transience has given to me.
I will light a candle of remembering in my heart for those who have passed. Papa, how I wish you're still around. You may not be altogether happy with what I cobbled together with my life, but at least it's mine.
The end of Ramadan signals renewal in the Muslim religion --- where the body and spirit are cleansed of impurities and the believer faces another year of trials. In Islam, there is no place but to surrender your SELF to a higher force --- for in its very name "to submit," Islam is more of a community religion than Christianity ever aspires to be.
But that's nitpicking, and as a heterodox Christian myself, I have no right to pontificate.
I'll space out for a few moments and reflect on what has happened to me while I have been here in the Middle East. The months of discovery have long passed and now it is a struggle not to be possessed by ennui. My initial reactions and impressions have been largely validated (or debunked, in a few minor cases), and in any case, I haven't written anything outside the OFW canon.
Life in the Middle East is a challenge to get used to, but once you get acclimated to it, it tends to become boring.
But hey, if I had wanted excitement, I would have taken the hard-knocks route to success here - either participating in, or being the instrument/victim/dupe of, illicit or immoral activities, or both. Or all of the above. Life is too short for us to bother with trifles, isn't it? (Kidding!)
This year I was hoping I could top the good 2004 that I had --- only to find that I am still working on last year's fumes. This could be dangerous, as there are rumblings that we will face job cuts --- while I am no slouch myself, my portfolio can be easily deemed "non-essential." I have also established myself as a sure-fire non-favorite of my Filipino boss. My fault entirely of course, though sometimes I give in to immature thoughts that he shouldn't play favorites... and then reality steps in and gives a firm slap: of course he should! He's human, after all!
Well, if and when I do end up getting the pink slip come this March, I've been a realist enough to gather as many back-up plans as I may be able to use. It's a survival mechanism from the old days when I was more job-shopping than holding down a permanent job. I don't want to leave this job - the pay is o.k. (of course there could always be more), I found some good friends, and so far I am still learning. The hard part really is that this may all end when I have just gotten people to accept my existence.
But there's no healthy ending to indulging in "what if's." Should that day come, like the professional that I am honing myself further, I will walk out with no regrets. I did enough for the job, and if they wanted more, well, they should take a reality check, given what they were paying, the work culture we were besmirched in, and what resources we were provided to accomplish the job.
Sigh... those words had to be said. Then they become part of the reality in which I choose to work. As if there is permanent positivity. Fat chance, buddy -- you need a little more growing up to do. Transience, transience is the theme of this life I have chosen, more so than any other lifestyle choice I have made in the last five years.
Things, though, have been looking over the past half-month or so. I arrested a few of my bad habits, got my groove to somewhat-normal levels, and lit a fire of urgency somewhere in my bowels. That's where the romance of discontent can bring you, dude. Excitement in the ride means creating a few moments of personal hell.
The pretension! The grand degree of it all! --- Oft-times I have to slap myself a little more to wake me up. This universe doesn't revolve around me --- it just feels that way, everyday.
But I love this life. As far as it goes, this is the best I have felt about myself for more than 10 years. Finally, this is a place where I can belong. Uprooted as I may be from the Philippines, I am more at home here in Saudi Arabia than anywhere else.
That is the gift transience has given to me.
I will light a candle of remembering in my heart for those who have passed. Papa, how I wish you're still around. You may not be altogether happy with what I cobbled together with my life, but at least it's mine.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Encumbered
One of my friends told me that when I stopped posting on our e-group he would know that things were going well here in the Middle East. For him, he would rest easy that I did not have to unburden myself through my e-mails.
That isn't necessarily so. I am saying now that it ain't so.
I've been striking a balance between my tendency to go off-tangent on the things I MUST DO (i.e. work), the things I have been asked, and agreed to do (i.e. requests from friends, organizational stuff), and my regular, singular INDOLENCE.
These past two months have been pretty tough. I am feeling the regular downspin of my biorhythm on this job. "Romance of discontent" or not, I have been fending off the seeming lack of purpose on the job.
Bruce Lee wrote and acted one of my favorite cryptic lines ever put down on film in Enter the Dragon. In the opening sequence, Lee's master asks him: "Who is your opponent?" And Lee answers, "There is no opponent, because there is no I."
As unconnected as it may be, that line works for me.
I am encumbered by my own self, and not all the talent or the goodwill will prevent my personal meltdown if I allow it to happen.
Simply put, my best opponent is my own self.
So now, I'd go back to doing what I am supposed to do ... working hard and at the same time, watching and waiting for the relevant thing to say.
Expression can also be found in silence, and for my last quote today (my only Tom Clancy quotable) --- Silence is the greatest passion of all.
That isn't necessarily so. I am saying now that it ain't so.
I've been striking a balance between my tendency to go off-tangent on the things I MUST DO (i.e. work), the things I have been asked, and agreed to do (i.e. requests from friends, organizational stuff), and my regular, singular INDOLENCE.
These past two months have been pretty tough. I am feeling the regular downspin of my biorhythm on this job. "Romance of discontent" or not, I have been fending off the seeming lack of purpose on the job.
Bruce Lee wrote and acted one of my favorite cryptic lines ever put down on film in Enter the Dragon. In the opening sequence, Lee's master asks him: "Who is your opponent?" And Lee answers, "There is no opponent, because there is no I."
As unconnected as it may be, that line works for me.
I am encumbered by my own self, and not all the talent or the goodwill will prevent my personal meltdown if I allow it to happen.
Simply put, my best opponent is my own self.
So now, I'd go back to doing what I am supposed to do ... working hard and at the same time, watching and waiting for the relevant thing to say.
Expression can also be found in silence, and for my last quote today (my only Tom Clancy quotable) --- Silence is the greatest passion of all.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Happiness Is... (Part 2)
- Finally kicking your nemesis's butt on your favorite fighting game (in my case, Tekken).
- Getting brain freeze from slurping down a really cold drink or shake after a hot day.
- Breaking wind with an earsplitting splat and yet finding your underwear dry.
- Mastering the swear words in a new language.
- Being the first person to reach a newly-opened queue at the checkout counter (and leaving everyone else stranded, hehe).
- Getting new electronic gadgets and popping the bubble wrap in which they were wrapped.
- Enjoying nipple slips and other wardrobe disasters (intended or not) of otherwise virginal female showbiz personalities.
- Waking up to a mountain or sea view with a hot cup of coffee, letting the crisp air and the sunrise soak in.
- Reaching that unscratchable spot and giving it a good rubbing.
- Hunkering down on the bed and having your loved one beside you.
- Watching someone else shed tears of joy.
- Letting out a primeval yell of pure emotion.
- Hearing an innocent child say "I love you" with him/her meaning it.
Happiness Is...
- Breaking that pesky high score some twelve-year old set on your favorite arcade game.
- Getting the same stuff your best buddy was proud of at a huge bargain.
- Being able to run up three flights of stairs without huffing and puffing.
- Eating fried chicken and french fries while watching a "Godfather" or "LOTR" video marathon
- Getting to the toilet before your bladder gives way after holding it for at least five minutes
- Seeing some schmuck get what is coming to him
- Holding a deep thought you couldn't believe you had in you.
- Hugging someone while passing a rainy afternoon.
- A clean pair of socks.
- Eating at the most gargantuan buffet table ever.
- Losing weight without diet, exercise, or stress.
- That oh-so-sweet, but uncertain first kiss.
- Falling in love for the first time.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Change Agents
We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit.
- Aristotle
One of the main tendencies of an expatriate professional’s life in Saudi Arabia is mediocrity. I’m not saying this to denigrate any of my colleagues who have dedicated themselves to living in Saudi Arabia --- it’s just that the prevailing culture in Saudi society has been one of paternalism and to some degree, relies more on SIR (smooth interpersonal relationships) than Filipinos ever do back in the Philippines.
This is evident in how people regard meeting deadlines, starting meetings on time, making small adjustments here and there instead of adhering to a strict discipline. The regard of many Saudi citizens to traffic rules is just one example among many. The continuing fiction that Saudis must be promoted even beyond their capability is also another. I have to admit that this country belongs to the Saudis and they should take over one day. All signs for that coming day are still relatively far away.
Many people remain critical of the Saudi royal family and sure enough, I’m certain that family is not perfect. But the culture permeates every one – and in some way, the practices of some expatriates help perpetuate, instead of blunting and reforming such mediocrity, which in the end, transform itself into mendicancy. While the royal family would have to do its share, the people would have to make their own changes.
This country has oil wealth – more than enough to pay for three lifetimes of its current population (perhaps even more) – but it has some ways to go in making it a more balanced society. Mind you – the balance does not have to mean it has to change its fundamental structure – but somewhere along that line, reforms would have to be carried out.
This is where Filipinos and other expatriates must play a crucial role – to be change agents instead of being changed ourselves. The pay is great, but I hope it disturbs people to think that WE ARE NOT MEANT TO BE HERE. We are just visitors, and before we get too comfortable that getting out is too difficult of an option, we have to plan accordingly – not only financially, but also professionally.
- Aristotle
One of the main tendencies of an expatriate professional’s life in Saudi Arabia is mediocrity. I’m not saying this to denigrate any of my colleagues who have dedicated themselves to living in Saudi Arabia --- it’s just that the prevailing culture in Saudi society has been one of paternalism and to some degree, relies more on SIR (smooth interpersonal relationships) than Filipinos ever do back in the Philippines.
This is evident in how people regard meeting deadlines, starting meetings on time, making small adjustments here and there instead of adhering to a strict discipline. The regard of many Saudi citizens to traffic rules is just one example among many. The continuing fiction that Saudis must be promoted even beyond their capability is also another. I have to admit that this country belongs to the Saudis and they should take over one day. All signs for that coming day are still relatively far away.
Many people remain critical of the Saudi royal family and sure enough, I’m certain that family is not perfect. But the culture permeates every one – and in some way, the practices of some expatriates help perpetuate, instead of blunting and reforming such mediocrity, which in the end, transform itself into mendicancy. While the royal family would have to do its share, the people would have to make their own changes.
This country has oil wealth – more than enough to pay for three lifetimes of its current population (perhaps even more) – but it has some ways to go in making it a more balanced society. Mind you – the balance does not have to mean it has to change its fundamental structure – but somewhere along that line, reforms would have to be carried out.
This is where Filipinos and other expatriates must play a crucial role – to be change agents instead of being changed ourselves. The pay is great, but I hope it disturbs people to think that WE ARE NOT MEANT TO BE HERE. We are just visitors, and before we get too comfortable that getting out is too difficult of an option, we have to plan accordingly – not only financially, but also professionally.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Bummer!
The very nice people at the ISU have officially logged Blogger.com as a pornographic site. I cannot even log on to my own blog! Cripes, this is ridiculous. I will say this, though, I don't know what kind of damage these blogs do to the morals of the general public here in Saudi Arabia...
True, there are really irresponsible people out there who post as if their heads were stuck up way into their posteriors. But closing the source will only lead to more irresponsibility
elsewhere.
This world is already a wholly-connected one - so damming the Internet to keep a few loose cannons away is like letting people die of thrist because you fear a few microbes flowing on the surface. (But let's see how they react, some people may request for unblocking...)
Age and Opportunity
For age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
--- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Happy birthday to me!
It's strange but I don't feel older. If anything I feel younger, having come to Saudi Arabia and experiencing some parts of my life on my own terms for the very first time.
I am conscious however that as time passes, the doors to any meaningful relationship with a woman are soon banging shut, and the windows, if ever they are available, are starting to close as well. It's not as if I didn't want to have a relationship with a woman; it's just that I haven't really "crossed to the other side" as I have with so many other things.
On the good days, it isn't all that bad, as I am surrounded by children that I get in touch with; on the bad days, I end up asking myself why am I busy taking care of someone else's children. On the ugly days, which don't come often (thank the Lord), I struggle so as not to wallow in self-pity - working in a land that is not my own, devoting myself to the success of strangers and upon coming home, finding that the people you love are becoming strangers.
I just hope that this experience prepares me, cleanses me, and purifies me for what lies ahead. I can't predict the future, all I know is that the choices I make right now would blaze me a new path for my life.
You crown the year with Your goodness, and Your paths drip with abundance. - Psalms 63:11
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
--- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Happy birthday to me!
It's strange but I don't feel older. If anything I feel younger, having come to Saudi Arabia and experiencing some parts of my life on my own terms for the very first time.
I am conscious however that as time passes, the doors to any meaningful relationship with a woman are soon banging shut, and the windows, if ever they are available, are starting to close as well. It's not as if I didn't want to have a relationship with a woman; it's just that I haven't really "crossed to the other side" as I have with so many other things.
On the good days, it isn't all that bad, as I am surrounded by children that I get in touch with; on the bad days, I end up asking myself why am I busy taking care of someone else's children. On the ugly days, which don't come often (thank the Lord), I struggle so as not to wallow in self-pity - working in a land that is not my own, devoting myself to the success of strangers and upon coming home, finding that the people you love are becoming strangers.
I just hope that this experience prepares me, cleanses me, and purifies me for what lies ahead. I can't predict the future, all I know is that the choices I make right now would blaze me a new path for my life.
You crown the year with Your goodness, and Your paths drip with abundance. - Psalms 63:11
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Red October
On silent feet it came
Breathing a sheet of flame, it came
Closing it on its rightful prey
Burning a hundred years away
The Morning of the Dragon
Truth lit up the street
The tiger we were stalking
Walked on paper feet
And in the clear white heat of dawn
Was gone
-- "Morning of the Dragon" from "Miss Saigon"
The anniversaries of the founding of the pre-eminent Communist regimes, Russia and China, are in October (of course, the Russians actually had theirs in November, since their calendar at the time was about 11-12 days behind ours). Now their great revolutions are likely to disappear - the Soviet Union of Greater Russia has dissolved into constituent republics, while the People's Republic of China is being challenged by the success of its semi-feudal capitalist system now in place.
But even so, the Chinese Community Party is still going strong. Congratulations, comrades. May you get your just deserts for the blood you shed in the name of the Party.
The real question now is whether the capitalist/materialist/humanist paradigm that is currently ruling the roost is the one which will be the most sustainable. On the one hand, we've seen capitalist economies turn to socialism and the welfare state to protect their "dispossessed." With Evil (with a capital E) falling to the wonders of science, it is no wonder that many of our people today lack a moral compass - and thus lacking the middle ground with which to deal with the activist sects in Islam and Christianity.
Somehow I'm not convinced in this brave new world that there is no room for the ideal of dedicating oneself to the STATE --- whether an earthly one as envisioned by the communists, or the heavenly one. However, I fear that extremism, and the lack of understanding, will continue to tear our world apart.
May all our children learn
The tide of right will turn
Giants fall, tigers burn
Someday with the dawn
They're gone.
Breathing a sheet of flame, it came
Closing it on its rightful prey
Burning a hundred years away
The Morning of the Dragon
Truth lit up the street
The tiger we were stalking
Walked on paper feet
And in the clear white heat of dawn
Was gone
-- "Morning of the Dragon" from "Miss Saigon"
The anniversaries of the founding of the pre-eminent Communist regimes, Russia and China, are in October (of course, the Russians actually had theirs in November, since their calendar at the time was about 11-12 days behind ours). Now their great revolutions are likely to disappear - the Soviet Union of Greater Russia has dissolved into constituent republics, while the People's Republic of China is being challenged by the success of its semi-feudal capitalist system now in place.
But even so, the Chinese Community Party is still going strong. Congratulations, comrades. May you get your just deserts for the blood you shed in the name of the Party.
The real question now is whether the capitalist/materialist/humanist paradigm that is currently ruling the roost is the one which will be the most sustainable. On the one hand, we've seen capitalist economies turn to socialism and the welfare state to protect their "dispossessed." With Evil (with a capital E) falling to the wonders of science, it is no wonder that many of our people today lack a moral compass - and thus lacking the middle ground with which to deal with the activist sects in Islam and Christianity.
Somehow I'm not convinced in this brave new world that there is no room for the ideal of dedicating oneself to the STATE --- whether an earthly one as envisioned by the communists, or the heavenly one. However, I fear that extremism, and the lack of understanding, will continue to tear our world apart.
May all our children learn
The tide of right will turn
Giants fall, tigers burn
Someday with the dawn
They're gone.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Sentimentality
I realize that there's a lot of sentimentality spouting off from my fingers - onto the keyboard, and finding its way into cyberspace. Not to sound too self-indulgent would be my current maxim; however, being otherwise is an altogether different (and more difficult) thing to do.
Still, to quote the pertinent chapter from Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet" . . .
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
Yep, that sounds just about right.
Crap on that reality-check. Sentimentality would do me just fine.
Still, to quote the pertinent chapter from Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet" . . .
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
Yep, that sounds just about right.
Crap on that reality-check. Sentimentality would do me just fine.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Cradling the World
OYAYI SA MUNDO
Aking mundo, ihimlay ang pagal mong katawan
Sa duyan ng kalawakan.
Hayaang maghilom ang mga sugat
Sa 'yong dibdib na likha ng mga tao
At itigil ng 'sang saglit ang iyong paggalaw
'Pagkat sa muli mong pag-inog
Ay may bago nang buhay.
(Noel G. Cabangon)
My translation (not so literal):
LULLABY FOR THE WORLD
Rest your tired limbs, oh my world
In the cradle of the universe.
Let the wounds
Inflicted on your breast by men
Heal and close.
And tarry a moment from moving
For when you turn again once more
A new life will be born.
On the bus to work today I passed by a rubble patch along one of downtown Khobar’s busy streets. It was a sign of different things to come, and the memories of the building except for those of its former occupants are now being erased from the earth.
Just a stone’s throw away from our apartment the foundations of the Al-Shula Mall that survived being transformed to ash still bear the mute testimony of how buildings are so vulnerable to the test of time; but more so, to the current tenuousness of humanity.
Adjacent to it the Park Hotel, once a landmark for travelers who take the bus to the airport, has been obliterated and the rubble has been bulldozed. Even the earth has been newly-turned. When I pass by that intersection of the Dhahran Road and Prince Turki street, the emptiness of it for one used to it is close to being obscene.
News from the British Museum announces that the curators have assembled a collection of antiquities to document the forgotten empire of the Persians - from the rise of Cyrus to the absorption of the Persian Empire by the Macedonians under Alexander. There are, so they say, very unique pieces that indicate the contributions of that empire to Western civilization.
I wonder, though, in this new generation sorely lacking in a long-term, much more a communal, memory, what will we leave to those who will succeed us.
Proof positive in that where the messaging is instantaneous people think less about what they say and what they would leave. There is always the recall feature in your Outlook program. There is always the "delete" command to cull unwanted messages.
Even in the world of cyberspace where people gather in community we are all but little bits and pieces before becoming true memories. Ironically, however, a person who doesn't exist as a number is considered not to have existed. All we are to other people then is JUST ANOTHER NUMBER.
Are we, then, simply statistics to be filed away in some supercomputer's memory crunch?
Meantime, people continue on consuming - people as markets lapping up food, fuel, supplies, entertainment, clothing - the rush for new markets now is just as bloodthirsty as those races over stretches of ocean. All the while our finite resources are beginning to be consumed at an alarming rate without prospect of replenishment or renewal.
Isaac Asimov puts this well enough, and I will paraphrase him:
Major premise: The Earth's volume is finite.
Minor Premise: The total volume of coal, oil, and other natural resources on the Earth is less than the total volume of the Earth.
Conclusion: The volume of the Earth's natural resources is finite.
Major Premise: The volume of the Earth's natural resources is finite.
Minor Premise: We are using part of those resources every day.
Conclusion: We will use those resources up eventually.
I'm in a dark mood today, as if I am marshaling all my emotional forces to some conclusion... as to what it is, let me stop awhile and think of it, and it will come to me.
Aking mundo, ihimlay ang pagal mong katawan
Sa duyan ng kalawakan.
Hayaang maghilom ang mga sugat
Sa 'yong dibdib na likha ng mga tao
At itigil ng 'sang saglit ang iyong paggalaw
'Pagkat sa muli mong pag-inog
Ay may bago nang buhay.
(Noel G. Cabangon)
My translation (not so literal):
LULLABY FOR THE WORLD
Rest your tired limbs, oh my world
In the cradle of the universe.
Let the wounds
Inflicted on your breast by men
Heal and close.
And tarry a moment from moving
For when you turn again once more
A new life will be born.
On the bus to work today I passed by a rubble patch along one of downtown Khobar’s busy streets. It was a sign of different things to come, and the memories of the building except for those of its former occupants are now being erased from the earth.
Just a stone’s throw away from our apartment the foundations of the Al-Shula Mall that survived being transformed to ash still bear the mute testimony of how buildings are so vulnerable to the test of time; but more so, to the current tenuousness of humanity.
Adjacent to it the Park Hotel, once a landmark for travelers who take the bus to the airport, has been obliterated and the rubble has been bulldozed. Even the earth has been newly-turned. When I pass by that intersection of the Dhahran Road and Prince Turki street, the emptiness of it for one used to it is close to being obscene.
News from the British Museum announces that the curators have assembled a collection of antiquities to document the forgotten empire of the Persians - from the rise of Cyrus to the absorption of the Persian Empire by the Macedonians under Alexander. There are, so they say, very unique pieces that indicate the contributions of that empire to Western civilization.
I wonder, though, in this new generation sorely lacking in a long-term, much more a communal, memory, what will we leave to those who will succeed us.
Proof positive in that where the messaging is instantaneous people think less about what they say and what they would leave. There is always the recall feature in your Outlook program. There is always the "delete" command to cull unwanted messages.
Even in the world of cyberspace where people gather in community we are all but little bits and pieces before becoming true memories. Ironically, however, a person who doesn't exist as a number is considered not to have existed. All we are to other people then is JUST ANOTHER NUMBER.
Are we, then, simply statistics to be filed away in some supercomputer's memory crunch?
Meantime, people continue on consuming - people as markets lapping up food, fuel, supplies, entertainment, clothing - the rush for new markets now is just as bloodthirsty as those races over stretches of ocean. All the while our finite resources are beginning to be consumed at an alarming rate without prospect of replenishment or renewal.
*****
Isaac Asimov puts this well enough, and I will paraphrase him:
Major premise: The Earth's volume is finite.
Minor Premise: The total volume of coal, oil, and other natural resources on the Earth is less than the total volume of the Earth.
Conclusion: The volume of the Earth's natural resources is finite.
Major Premise: The volume of the Earth's natural resources is finite.
Minor Premise: We are using part of those resources every day.
Conclusion: We will use those resources up eventually.
*****
Science tells us that Nature has a way of culling off populations - when resources are few, living things in an ecosystem will fight over them.
Sociology tells us that the natural recourse with the haves and have-nots is that the rich get richer, and the poor become poorer. And that when the tipping point comes, the have-nots turn the tables on the haves - often bloodily. Which then sets up the normal cycle of oppressor and oppressed.
First major premise: The world population is expanding at a faster rate, and that growth is mostly in the poorer countries.
Second major premise: Demand for resources has raised their prices, making the rich countries even richer.
Minor premise: The simplest way for the dispossessed to gain respect is through violence.
Conclusion: We are on the verge of another major clash.
Someone out there must be doing the math.
What legacy do I leave when my ideas fade or this electronic network disappears?
Who would remember those who have fallen in the dark years of the dictatorship, those martyrs who died without seeing the dawn? Would it all matter in this new age?
Sociology tells us that the natural recourse with the haves and have-nots is that the rich get richer, and the poor become poorer. And that when the tipping point comes, the have-nots turn the tables on the haves - often bloodily. Which then sets up the normal cycle of oppressor and oppressed.
First major premise: The world population is expanding at a faster rate, and that growth is mostly in the poorer countries.
Second major premise: Demand for resources has raised their prices, making the rich countries even richer.
Minor premise: The simplest way for the dispossessed to gain respect is through violence.
Conclusion: We are on the verge of another major clash.
Someone out there must be doing the math.
What legacy do I leave when my ideas fade or this electronic network disappears?
Who would remember those who have fallen in the dark years of the dictatorship, those martyrs who died without seeing the dawn? Would it all matter in this new age?
*****
I'm in a dark mood today, as if I am marshaling all my emotional forces to some conclusion... as to what it is, let me stop awhile and think of it, and it will come to me.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
You're the One I'd Love To Love For All My Life
I wrote this piece in September 1999 just right before my sister delivered her second son. It was a long wait and I was inspired to write another song - I just a "met" a girl at that time and the bug literally hit me.
The feelings of course, were different. I found some solace that a new life was about to see the light of the world. It's funny that after I wrote this song "I Knew I Loved You" by Savage Garden came out, thus conveniently making me a copycat had this song been cut and seen airplay.
In 2002, I wrote the third verse to bridge the gap resulting from the arrangement Des S. and Anchit V. came up with. It was meant for the Raven, but she never got to hear the complete version of the song. I wonder how she would have felt if she did.
Never been lonely, had all the answers
But nowhere to go.
Certain of myself, searching for meaning
Still I don’t know
Always try to hide myself
When I’m standing in the light
Fleeing from the shadows
I can never truly hide
Judging my feelings with my imperfections
Could I be loved?
Choosing desire over sweet inspiration
From heaven above.
You’re the one who changed my world
When you made me understand
I don’t have to lie to you
I could be just who I am
Is this a miracle now that I’ve found you?
Should I believe in love
Is this all so true?
Never wanted love so bad
Never wanted it so right
You’re the one I’d love to love for all my life.
Words don’t come easy to show what I’m feeling
My thoughts go dry.
You are the answer to all of my questions
Don’t ask me why.
You have always been that dream
I could never quite forget.
In my heart’s a place for you
Even when we haven’t met .
Resting within your love my heart begins to speak
You make me feel secure
Even when I’m weak.
Knowing that you’re in my world
Makes everything so bright
You’re the one I’d love to love for all my life.
You are the color in my world so gray
Within my darkness
You’re the promise of a new day
You are the miracle that gives me faith to dream
You’re the flame that burns in me
You’re the song I sing.
As I live, as I breathe
I will love with all my might.
You’re the one I’d love to love for all my life.
You’re the one I’d love to love for all my life.
The feelings of course, were different. I found some solace that a new life was about to see the light of the world. It's funny that after I wrote this song "I Knew I Loved You" by Savage Garden came out, thus conveniently making me a copycat had this song been cut and seen airplay.
In 2002, I wrote the third verse to bridge the gap resulting from the arrangement Des S. and Anchit V. came up with. It was meant for the Raven, but she never got to hear the complete version of the song. I wonder how she would have felt if she did.
Never been lonely, had all the answers
But nowhere to go.
Certain of myself, searching for meaning
Still I don’t know
Always try to hide myself
When I’m standing in the light
Fleeing from the shadows
I can never truly hide
Judging my feelings with my imperfections
Could I be loved?
Choosing desire over sweet inspiration
From heaven above.
You’re the one who changed my world
When you made me understand
I don’t have to lie to you
I could be just who I am
Is this a miracle now that I’ve found you?
Should I believe in love
Is this all so true?
Never wanted love so bad
Never wanted it so right
You’re the one I’d love to love for all my life.
Words don’t come easy to show what I’m feeling
My thoughts go dry.
You are the answer to all of my questions
Don’t ask me why.
You have always been that dream
I could never quite forget.
In my heart’s a place for you
Even when we haven’t met .
Resting within your love my heart begins to speak
You make me feel secure
Even when I’m weak.
Knowing that you’re in my world
Makes everything so bright
You’re the one I’d love to love for all my life.
You are the color in my world so gray
Within my darkness
You’re the promise of a new day
You are the miracle that gives me faith to dream
You’re the flame that burns in me
You’re the song I sing.
As I live, as I breathe
I will love with all my might.
You’re the one I’d love to love for all my life.
You’re the one I’d love to love for all my life.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Triumph
The Cast
I was pleased over the success of our play "Kulay Abo ang Madaling Araw." The performances were overwhelming. Great job by our actors.
I'd start out here to give thanks to the people who made it possible, for saying "Thank you" can never be too much.
Once again, I’d like to say thank you:
--> To the actors and creative staff behind “Kulay Abo Ang Madaling Araw.” Without your driving force, this production would not have been possible. To the parents who offered wonderful support to their kids. To their mentors, without whose guidance their creative potential would not have been tapped. Thumbs up particularly to Aylwyn Valenciano, who provided a spellbinding performance, and to Direk Dennis Obispo in bringing all his cast together.
--> The boys of SPA for the sweat you invested in this program. Everyone had a real workout and you didn’t have to go to the gym. The girls of SPA for showing grace under pressure during the program, and in supporting us before it.
--> To our volunteers behind the scenes, particularly Marlon Gonzales and our wardrobe/make-up crew.
--> To our guests Saringhimig, for putting in added flavor to our production.
--> For the tireless support of Rolly and Beth de Guzman, who pushed and pushed for the Acting class to do their rehearsals in IPSA. To Rolly for the leadership he showed during stage construction, and his personal effort in the same. For all the volunteer parents who helped in the meals of the actors.
--> To the hosting of Dhel and Polly Porcioncula of our stage construction, and the support shown by the Porcioncula and Bautista families during the course of the production.
--> To all the Core Group members who cajoled, sweet-talked, and campaigned for our show. It was a tough sell, but your hard work paid off.
--> To Arnold Villasis, for his creative inputs behind the artistic concepts used in the show, and his personal hard work. It’s in the little details of our set and souvenir program that make the experience for our audience worthwhile, and we have Arnold to thank for that.
--> To Josue Ferriol, our El Jefe, whose personal leadership of SPA-TDG made my job very, very easy. Like taking a walk through the park.
--> To Charlie Pagdanganan, for pulling our collective fat from the fire in rescuing the souvenir program reproduction, and for giving us a great morale boost that carried us through the entire play date.
--> For the creative touch of Nestor Valenciano and Gerry Lumitao, in adding a trademark to the show by composing a theme song. To Guen Jain for her contributions in making a demo record possible.
--> To Obet Lucas, for the portraits that have graced our souvenir program.
--> To Evelyn Pascua, for the thankless task of counting our money for the play.
--> To Roy Noriega and Boni Bautista, for our successes in our marketing campaign, and Edwin Deray for trying his best. To Joel Salazar and Cora Barretto, who spent some time soliciting from their contacts. And of course, to Charlie again for his initiative in marketing SPA as a whole.
--> For the trust invested in us by our colleagues from Entablado Filipino. I must concede in the beginning even I had some skepticism about the effect of this show, and how good a job SPA could do. Thanks for staying the course with us, through all of the gaffes, unintentional or through our own unfamiliarity in producing a full-length play.
There are so many kindnesses to be thankful for, like a supportive smile, a handshake, and above all, your mere presence that have invested in this show the true community spirit. There are, to be sure, some improvements to be made and lessons to be learned in the creative and organizational aspects of the show, but overall, I am proud to have been part of “Kulay Abo Ang Madaling Araw” and humbled at the same time to be called the production manager.
In all fairness, the people around me did all the hard work and all I had to do was go along for the ride. If that's what being boss means, man, that's the way to be, hehe. So, for all of these, there are no words to say except, “T H A N K Y O U.”
My prayers are for Beth de Guzman and Melinda Dalit, that they overcome their personal difficulties, and of course for their families that they continue in the face of challenges.
Someone pointed out that the use of Enya's music was a bit, well, overdone. Yes, I have to concede, it is true. Hearing Enya, letting her lyrics sink in, allows me to savor the triumph of the show and the beautiful memories of those times when I discovered her music.
Strange how my heart beats
To find myself upon your shore.
Strange how I still feel
My loss of comfort gone before.
Cool waves wash over
and drift away with dreams of youth
so time is stolen
I cannot hold you long enough.
And so
this is where I should be now
Days and nights falling by
Days and nights falling by me.
I know of a dream I should be holding
days and nights falling by
Days and nights falling by me.
Soft blue horizons
reach far into my childhood days
as you are rising
to bring me my forgotten ways
Strange how I falter
to find I'm standing in deep water
Strange how my heart beats
to find I'm standing on your shore.
Waiting for the next great thing to come from these wonderful kids.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Paraisong Kulay Abo
Tomorrow will be our full-length play presented by SPA and by Entablado Filipino. It is the first time such a production (full-length play in Filipino, within Saudi Arabia) has been attempted, and doubtless there have been many disappointments – people not understanding what it is all about, the cost is too expensive, the project is too audacious, some organizational mistakes – but I’m confident that everything will turn out just all right.
My friends wrote a great song for the play (natch, they beat me to it, and all for the better, of course). It matches the mood of the times – the dark sword of war and violence all over in the face of wealth and plenty. I read in the new Human Development Report of the UNDP that a child born in 1840’s England has a better chance of surviving and reaching 30 years old than it is for that same child to be born in modern-day Zambia.
The answer in the midst of all this apathy is that people in the middle MUST be the ones to do something.
We try, we try. But it is all so easy to give up.
PARAISONG KULAY ABO
(Panaghoy ni Lucing)
Lyrics by Agerico Lumitao
Music and Additional Lyrics by Nestor Raphael Valenciano, MD
Inspired by Stevan Javellana’s novel “Without Seeing the Dawn”
Bakit kay ilap ng langit na pangarap?
Ba’t itong puso’y nasasadlak sa hirap?
Hindi kailanman nagkulang manalangin
Bakit ba hapis ang lagi kong kapiling?
Ngiti ng pag-asa’y naglahong lahat giliw
Pati paraiso’y pinatid ng pighati
KODA:
Dati-rati’y ligaya ang kaniig
Dati-rati’y kay liwanag ng paligid
Huni ng mga ibon dulot ay pag-ibig
(Ulitin ang Berso I & II at Koda)
KORO
Ikaw ang bukang liwayway, pinakahihintay
Ikaw na naging sandigan ko, paraiso at langit ko
Subalit wala ang langit sa lupa
At paraiso niya’y, ay paraiso niya;
At paraiso niya’y kulay abo
(Ulitin ang Berso I at Koda)
My friends wrote a great song for the play (natch, they beat me to it, and all for the better, of course). It matches the mood of the times – the dark sword of war and violence all over in the face of wealth and plenty. I read in the new Human Development Report of the UNDP that a child born in 1840’s England has a better chance of surviving and reaching 30 years old than it is for that same child to be born in modern-day Zambia.
The answer in the midst of all this apathy is that people in the middle MUST be the ones to do something.
We try, we try. But it is all so easy to give up.
PARAISONG KULAY ABO
(Panaghoy ni Lucing)
Lyrics by Agerico Lumitao
Music and Additional Lyrics by Nestor Raphael Valenciano, MD
Inspired by Stevan Javellana’s novel “Without Seeing the Dawn”
Bakit kay ilap ng langit na pangarap?
Ba’t itong puso’y nasasadlak sa hirap?
Hindi kailanman nagkulang manalangin
Bakit ba hapis ang lagi kong kapiling?
Ngiti ng pag-asa’y naglahong lahat giliw
Pati paraiso’y pinatid ng pighati
KODA:
Dati-rati’y ligaya ang kaniig
Dati-rati’y kay liwanag ng paligid
Huni ng mga ibon dulot ay pag-ibig
(Ulitin ang Berso I & II at Koda)
KORO
Ikaw ang bukang liwayway, pinakahihintay
Ikaw na naging sandigan ko, paraiso at langit ko
Subalit wala ang langit sa lupa
At paraiso niya’y, ay paraiso niya;
At paraiso niya’y kulay abo
(Ulitin ang Berso I at Koda)
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Deflated
After my breaking-in days with Saudi Arabia and my current organization, I made a promise that I would never let my personal deficiencies impede me or give my work unit a bad name.
It has worked by and large these past few months. Today, I received notice that I slipped up. I'm angry at myself for letting this happen.
There is much to be disappointed in this job, but the positives far outweigh whatever negatives I am feeling or experiencing. At least I'm not killing myself on the job, and I'm paid well enough it''s an inducement for me to produce. There are no absolutes why I'm not doing as well as I should, but I figure I should throw out excess sand and focus on the rocks that ensure my success.
Have to bring in more attitude. Have to be a little more dissatisfied, and let that discontent percolate for more ideas. Use the cliches as I may, yes, it's time to step out of the comfort zone again.
It will be tough "unrolling" a stone that is already moving, be it with physics or with personality, but you've got it damn straight, I'm going to be hellbent on making sure I don't slip up again. Sure, mistakes are going to happen, but slip-ups due to bad habits are controllable and are therefore changeable.
I'll get over my deflated ego tomorrow. Today I'll have to list a few changes.
It has worked by and large these past few months. Today, I received notice that I slipped up. I'm angry at myself for letting this happen.
There is much to be disappointed in this job, but the positives far outweigh whatever negatives I am feeling or experiencing. At least I'm not killing myself on the job, and I'm paid well enough it''s an inducement for me to produce. There are no absolutes why I'm not doing as well as I should, but I figure I should throw out excess sand and focus on the rocks that ensure my success.
Have to bring in more attitude. Have to be a little more dissatisfied, and let that discontent percolate for more ideas. Use the cliches as I may, yes, it's time to step out of the comfort zone again.
It will be tough "unrolling" a stone that is already moving, be it with physics or with personality, but you've got it damn straight, I'm going to be hellbent on making sure I don't slip up again. Sure, mistakes are going to happen, but slip-ups due to bad habits are controllable and are therefore changeable.
I'll get over my deflated ego tomorrow. Today I'll have to list a few changes.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
March of the Mundane
I'd like to avoid metaphysics for the day. Just too much.
My mind is on content overload rushing a presentation I should have, in earnest, finished a month ago. Serves me right. Now I have to do double time without the benefit of a parachute.
Preparations for our play "Kulay Abo ang Madaling Araw" have gone as scheduled. I'm afraid we haven't sold enough tickets. Fear to put into another compartment for me to banish my sleep later.
My room is in a total mess. No comfort for me. I really have to buy new furniture, perferably used, but more especially, "Otep-proof." I try to take care, really I do, but I'm just plodding and clumsy most of the time. I haven't cooked in a long time. I miss my own cooking, because I'm the only one who can truly appreciate my cooking. I miss crushed potato chips in my omelette. I miss corned beef pasta.
Did I bewail too much before - now that I have my hands full?
Caught the Dementieva-Pierce US Open semi on satellite TV. What a meltdown by the Russkie. Shame, and she was riding high. Too bad I missed the subsequent ladies' matches. Hope to catch the Federer-Agassi tussle later on. My money's on Federer, but my heart's with Agassi. Nice to see an "old" man in his sport hold up against time. Of course, there are people who should have retired way before they did, like Robert Jaworski in the PBA.
(Let me dodge a few bullets that will come my way...)
Tight pennant and wild-card races in baseball. A whole boatload of trades and transfers over the summer in basketball. Ferrari effectively dethroned as Formula 1 Constructor of the Year. Doping scandals everywhere. Gangsta values left and right. Great time to be a sports fan. I'm not too much of an addict, but I guess I could follow a conversation now and then.
Sigh ... wish had more time to talk of the mundane!
My mind is on content overload rushing a presentation I should have, in earnest, finished a month ago. Serves me right. Now I have to do double time without the benefit of a parachute.
Preparations for our play "Kulay Abo ang Madaling Araw" have gone as scheduled. I'm afraid we haven't sold enough tickets. Fear to put into another compartment for me to banish my sleep later.
My room is in a total mess. No comfort for me. I really have to buy new furniture, perferably used, but more especially, "Otep-proof." I try to take care, really I do, but I'm just plodding and clumsy most of the time. I haven't cooked in a long time. I miss my own cooking, because I'm the only one who can truly appreciate my cooking. I miss crushed potato chips in my omelette. I miss corned beef pasta.
Did I bewail too much before - now that I have my hands full?
Caught the Dementieva-Pierce US Open semi on satellite TV. What a meltdown by the Russkie. Shame, and she was riding high. Too bad I missed the subsequent ladies' matches. Hope to catch the Federer-Agassi tussle later on. My money's on Federer, but my heart's with Agassi. Nice to see an "old" man in his sport hold up against time. Of course, there are people who should have retired way before they did, like Robert Jaworski in the PBA.
(Let me dodge a few bullets that will come my way...)
Tight pennant and wild-card races in baseball. A whole boatload of trades and transfers over the summer in basketball. Ferrari effectively dethroned as Formula 1 Constructor of the Year. Doping scandals everywhere. Gangsta values left and right. Great time to be a sports fan. I'm not too much of an addict, but I guess I could follow a conversation now and then.
Sigh ... wish had more time to talk of the mundane!
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Grateful
Through one bad week (comparably) for the United States and the continuing bubbles of violence and apathy elsewhere in the world, I find it disturbing that I haven't said enough thanks for all the blessings that I have received.
I am grateful, knowing that I am on borrowed time, that I still greet each day with good health and an opportunity to be of service.
I am grateful that I have found true friends here in Saudi Arabia, people who are passionate about what they believe in and back these passions up with their actions. I am inspired just to have encountered such true generosity of spirit.
I am grateful that whatever personal tragedies that beset the people I care about, they hold their heads up high and take pride that they still persevere despite the many obstacles.
I am on borrowed time. One day, without my knowing and without any forewarning, the Lord will come and invite me to join Him. I would like to thank Him for the little things I sometimes take for granted in my life...
For the gift of other people, even those I may not actually like
For the ability to be moved by others, and to move them in return
For the ability to respond to another person, and to give that person joy
For the ability to speak, to express myself
For the ability to laugh and to cry
Thank you Lord, thank you. Thank you for all your gifts to me.
Thank you for my eyes. Thank you for giving me a window to this lovely world. When I look out into this world, may I appreciate more the blue of the sky, the green of the grass, the rainbow, the sunset. Thank you for the beauty that I see, that I may see the people I love and the joy in the faces of people.
Thank you for my tongue. While I may not be as gifted as those whom I admire, I have been able to express myself in plain speech and even in song. How many times have I forgotten the value of conversation - how they have shaped my relationships. Thank you for the joy of eating, one blessing that I shouldn't (but just have) indulge in so often.
Thank you for my ears. Sounds are the hue of my existence - amid all the noise in this world, there is still the incandescence of good jokes, of being empathetic to others, of good counsel from others, of words of appreciation and love. For music that flows within me and through me, and for the song in my heart I always hear.
Thank you for my hands. For someone who is more into thinking than doing, I am prouder of the work of my hands. Grant that my hands do more in helping others, in shaking hands out of true appreciation. To hold, to carry, to grasp --- my hands are the way I interact with my universe, and quite literally, to take charge of my life.
Thank you for giving me my whole being ---
For my ability to sense, understand, and appreciate this world
For my capacity to need other people and to lend a hand for their needs
For being able to take and of to give, of being able to share and to receive.
Thank you Lord, thank you. Thank you for all your gifts to me.
Lord, thank you.
Thank you for this universe. Thank you for the quiet spaces in my life. Thank you for lending me this time on earth. Thank you for this one life, the only life I would have to live. Thank you for being there, Lord --- today you may be the stranger who helps me to my feet, tomorrow you may be the life-partner I have always longed for. Thank you for listening to me, for giving me a part in your Plan.
Thank you Lord.
I only ask that you forgive me for not being as thankful of these gifts, or for not being able to give due regard to those around me, who surely have received their blessings in full just as I have. It is only because much is expected of me that I have come to disappoint. My life is in your hands; grant that I take full responsibility always for the wrongs that I have done.
In the name of your Son, my Brother, who has taught me on giving thanks.
Inspiration for these thanks is drawn from the Prayer Book of the De La Salle Brothers in the Philippines.
I am grateful, knowing that I am on borrowed time, that I still greet each day with good health and an opportunity to be of service.
I am grateful that I have found true friends here in Saudi Arabia, people who are passionate about what they believe in and back these passions up with their actions. I am inspired just to have encountered such true generosity of spirit.
I am grateful that whatever personal tragedies that beset the people I care about, they hold their heads up high and take pride that they still persevere despite the many obstacles.
I am on borrowed time. One day, without my knowing and without any forewarning, the Lord will come and invite me to join Him. I would like to thank Him for the little things I sometimes take for granted in my life...
For the gift of other people, even those I may not actually like
For the ability to be moved by others, and to move them in return
For the ability to respond to another person, and to give that person joy
For the ability to speak, to express myself
For the ability to laugh and to cry
Thank you Lord, thank you. Thank you for all your gifts to me.
Thank you for my eyes. Thank you for giving me a window to this lovely world. When I look out into this world, may I appreciate more the blue of the sky, the green of the grass, the rainbow, the sunset. Thank you for the beauty that I see, that I may see the people I love and the joy in the faces of people.
Thank you for my tongue. While I may not be as gifted as those whom I admire, I have been able to express myself in plain speech and even in song. How many times have I forgotten the value of conversation - how they have shaped my relationships. Thank you for the joy of eating, one blessing that I shouldn't (but just have) indulge in so often.
Thank you for my ears. Sounds are the hue of my existence - amid all the noise in this world, there is still the incandescence of good jokes, of being empathetic to others, of good counsel from others, of words of appreciation and love. For music that flows within me and through me, and for the song in my heart I always hear.
Thank you for my hands. For someone who is more into thinking than doing, I am prouder of the work of my hands. Grant that my hands do more in helping others, in shaking hands out of true appreciation. To hold, to carry, to grasp --- my hands are the way I interact with my universe, and quite literally, to take charge of my life.
Thank you for giving me my whole being ---
For my ability to sense, understand, and appreciate this world
For my capacity to need other people and to lend a hand for their needs
For being able to take and of to give, of being able to share and to receive.
Thank you Lord, thank you. Thank you for all your gifts to me.
Lord, thank you.
Thank you for this universe. Thank you for the quiet spaces in my life. Thank you for lending me this time on earth. Thank you for this one life, the only life I would have to live. Thank you for being there, Lord --- today you may be the stranger who helps me to my feet, tomorrow you may be the life-partner I have always longed for. Thank you for listening to me, for giving me a part in your Plan.
Thank you Lord.
I only ask that you forgive me for not being as thankful of these gifts, or for not being able to give due regard to those around me, who surely have received their blessings in full just as I have. It is only because much is expected of me that I have come to disappoint. My life is in your hands; grant that I take full responsibility always for the wrongs that I have done.
In the name of your Son, my Brother, who has taught me on giving thanks.
Inspiration for these thanks is drawn from the Prayer Book of the De La Salle Brothers in the Philippines.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Lighting a Candle
I am lighting a candle for my two friends and their families.
For Vince Abejo, whose father passed away.
For Gigs Francisco, whose mother passed away.
As I learned about Vince in school, where he was my classmate for about eight years, he was somewhat of an understatement. He never made a big deal about his capabilities (of which he had a considerable amount of), but was more concerned about being a better person and friend. In his career, he has been rewarded with great material success and renown spanning into the international field, and still he was more concerned about his family than gaining more accomplishments. Definitely not an understatement.
From Vince's example, I learned about staying the course and while the chips may fall down as they will, one always has a choice.
Gigs was an enigma to me even in high school though he helped in my training as a peer counselor. He was a lot closer to my buddy Gerard since they were contemporaries in PC and lived in the same condo complex. We were already professionals when we struck up a true chord of friendship and it was astonishing that we have the same birthdays. Gigs is a truly unique individual that he borders on the eccentric, but this is the kind of eccentricity that resonated with me, since I'm on the fringe in many areas of my personality and beliefs anyway.
I pray that the journey of Vince's father has ended with the knowledge that he has left behind an invaluable legacy in the lives of his children.
I pray that the tragic death of Gigs's mother (she died in a devastating fire that has rendered Gigs homeless and an orphan) will help shape and define not only the life of Gigs but all of those who had been in direct contact with her.
In my case, I pray that my mother keeps on finding more reasons for happiness. She has borne too many crosses in her life that I wonder whether she keeps anything for herself. I pray that as long as I have strength, that her cupboard be full and never bare, that she may continue to draw upon the fountain of Life and of God's blessings because she is such a generous and caring soul. I accept that it is difficult living with her but that is no reason for me to deny her what she truly deserves.
Since I am truly helpless to uphold my family's welfare while I remain here in Saudi Arabia, I thank the Lord that no force of nature has yet impacted on our family, and I pray that it will continue to be so. I must die one day, and if my life can serve some purpose to save theirs, then so be it.
For Vince Abejo, whose father passed away.
For Gigs Francisco, whose mother passed away.
As I learned about Vince in school, where he was my classmate for about eight years, he was somewhat of an understatement. He never made a big deal about his capabilities (of which he had a considerable amount of), but was more concerned about being a better person and friend. In his career, he has been rewarded with great material success and renown spanning into the international field, and still he was more concerned about his family than gaining more accomplishments. Definitely not an understatement.
From Vince's example, I learned about staying the course and while the chips may fall down as they will, one always has a choice.
Gigs was an enigma to me even in high school though he helped in my training as a peer counselor. He was a lot closer to my buddy Gerard since they were contemporaries in PC and lived in the same condo complex. We were already professionals when we struck up a true chord of friendship and it was astonishing that we have the same birthdays. Gigs is a truly unique individual that he borders on the eccentric, but this is the kind of eccentricity that resonated with me, since I'm on the fringe in many areas of my personality and beliefs anyway.
I pray that the journey of Vince's father has ended with the knowledge that he has left behind an invaluable legacy in the lives of his children.
I pray that the tragic death of Gigs's mother (she died in a devastating fire that has rendered Gigs homeless and an orphan) will help shape and define not only the life of Gigs but all of those who had been in direct contact with her.
In my case, I pray that my mother keeps on finding more reasons for happiness. She has borne too many crosses in her life that I wonder whether she keeps anything for herself. I pray that as long as I have strength, that her cupboard be full and never bare, that she may continue to draw upon the fountain of Life and of God's blessings because she is such a generous and caring soul. I accept that it is difficult living with her but that is no reason for me to deny her what she truly deserves.
Since I am truly helpless to uphold my family's welfare while I remain here in Saudi Arabia, I thank the Lord that no force of nature has yet impacted on our family, and I pray that it will continue to be so. I must die one day, and if my life can serve some purpose to save theirs, then so be it.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Inanities - Sports Thoughts
I really hope Larry Brown will stink up the joint with the New York Knicks, and that he and Isiah Thomas get the boot. The franchise has been moribund the past few years, and no one can make some headway with the bad contracts they have been taking on.
Besides, I believe Larry is a manipulative pr*ck who deserves his comeuppance. Ditto for Isiah.
I keep on wondering why more people don't see Kobe Bryant for who he is - a flawed human being. It's not as if he is a demigod or anything (on the one hand) or a certified devil incarnate on the other. Yeah, I think Phil will fall flat on his face in getting them to championship contention. Unless they find a way to trade Kobe for some pieces (to Memphis most probably, natch). Kobe is a great player, no doubt, but there are layers and layers of being a winner, and not just championship rings and megabuck contracts.
The Miami Heat are an exciting but flawed team - I still believe in having etiher a star-less system or megastars surrounded by role players. Expect Antoine Walker and Jason Williams to sublimate their egos to Shaquille? Or how about James Posey, who is living proof that mediocrity shouldn't be over-rewarded? I like Miami, mainly because of Shaq and Wade. But please, I'd rather avoid that crapshoot.
The Pistons are looking very good. Vulnerable, but very good. Dumars is a classy guy, but the rest of their brain trust --- hmmm. Dumars deserves more credit than he is getting. A few years ago, the PR quotient of Detroit was equivalent to a train wreck. No wonder Grant Hill walked (I think it wasn't for the money).
The Spurs are the best. If they don't win another championship next year, it means some team has transcended its current capability as a group.
(Let's take a move in another direction)...
Sportswriters, next to entertainment writers, are perhaps the most unforgiving journalists and however, the most subject to hype. How many athletes have we deified on the say-so of these people? How many flashes-in-the-pan have we elevated to the level of "next... (fill in the blanks)"? At the same time, people have to understand athletes in a continuum - the signs of the times, the athletes they competed against, the general popularity of the sport - to make judgments.
Well, of course, there is always the matter of gambling in sport. Need some excitement to stoke up the desire for gambling. How many fortunes were made and destroyed because of sports gambling. And so, the hype machines go off, the oracles are crowned (or self-proclaimed), and the legion of analysts come forth.
So where now is the purity of the game, of humans struggling against one another, of the drive to achieve and succeed against odds? On the one hand you have the passion and bravado of a dedicated athlete. On the other, you have the spectator, wanting to connect with something greater than himself or herself.
Put in gambling, sex, bigotry, us-against-them and unused aggression and the whole kit and caboodle explodes!
Still, though...
Would I give up ogling at Maria Sharapova, Amanda Beard, Jennie Finch? Hell, no!
Would I give up looking and thinking of the what-might-have-beens on my favorite teams? Probably not.
Would I forego the use of obscenity in the search of a cool line, especially those uttered by athletes? Definitely not.
Hehe, gotcha there!
Besides, I believe Larry is a manipulative pr*ck who deserves his comeuppance. Ditto for Isiah.
I keep on wondering why more people don't see Kobe Bryant for who he is - a flawed human being. It's not as if he is a demigod or anything (on the one hand) or a certified devil incarnate on the other. Yeah, I think Phil will fall flat on his face in getting them to championship contention. Unless they find a way to trade Kobe for some pieces (to Memphis most probably, natch). Kobe is a great player, no doubt, but there are layers and layers of being a winner, and not just championship rings and megabuck contracts.
The Miami Heat are an exciting but flawed team - I still believe in having etiher a star-less system or megastars surrounded by role players. Expect Antoine Walker and Jason Williams to sublimate their egos to Shaquille? Or how about James Posey, who is living proof that mediocrity shouldn't be over-rewarded? I like Miami, mainly because of Shaq and Wade. But please, I'd rather avoid that crapshoot.
The Pistons are looking very good. Vulnerable, but very good. Dumars is a classy guy, but the rest of their brain trust --- hmmm. Dumars deserves more credit than he is getting. A few years ago, the PR quotient of Detroit was equivalent to a train wreck. No wonder Grant Hill walked (I think it wasn't for the money).
The Spurs are the best. If they don't win another championship next year, it means some team has transcended its current capability as a group.
(Let's take a move in another direction)...
Sportswriters, next to entertainment writers, are perhaps the most unforgiving journalists and however, the most subject to hype. How many athletes have we deified on the say-so of these people? How many flashes-in-the-pan have we elevated to the level of "next... (fill in the blanks)"? At the same time, people have to understand athletes in a continuum - the signs of the times, the athletes they competed against, the general popularity of the sport - to make judgments.
Well, of course, there is always the matter of gambling in sport. Need some excitement to stoke up the desire for gambling. How many fortunes were made and destroyed because of sports gambling. And so, the hype machines go off, the oracles are crowned (or self-proclaimed), and the legion of analysts come forth.
So where now is the purity of the game, of humans struggling against one another, of the drive to achieve and succeed against odds? On the one hand you have the passion and bravado of a dedicated athlete. On the other, you have the spectator, wanting to connect with something greater than himself or herself.
Put in gambling, sex, bigotry, us-against-them and unused aggression and the whole kit and caboodle explodes!
Still, though...
Would I give up ogling at Maria Sharapova, Amanda Beard, Jennie Finch? Hell, no!
Would I give up looking and thinking of the what-might-have-beens on my favorite teams? Probably not.
Would I forego the use of obscenity in the search of a cool line, especially those uttered by athletes? Definitely not.
Hehe, gotcha there!
Monday, August 29, 2005
Failure, Inevitably
I am an addict for nostalgia. It comes with the territory of primarily being desk-bound at work - lots of time to think on and off the job.
The hard part of nostalgia is reliving all the memories - both the good and the bad - and normally the bad memories stick out like sore thumbs. The design of emotion is such negativity will come up much more quickly over the positives. Or is it just me? Reminds me of Lennon's "God" where he says "God is a Concept by which we measure our pain."
Whichever is true, it still surprises me how people react to the prospect of failure. Since we are finite beings, inevitably there will come a time where we will fail at something. That's a hidebound, set-in-stone guarantee. I still wince, though, looking back at the failures in my life...
I have failed to keep my weight at a consistent level.
Earlier in my career, for a variety of reasons, I have failed to hold down jobs, even those of the cakewalk variety, or where I have even been an ideal fit.
I have failed to sustain a number of relationships that would have led to my making a lifetime commitment with someone.
I have failed to live up to my potential through my academic career (a failure which haunts me to this day).
I have let so many friends down during critical times.
It hurts to remember the failures. Still, it is liberating to be free of the baggage that came with those failures. I have accepted that I have failed and whatever consequences I have already reaped (and may, still, in the future) are already part and parcel of my life. They have defined me until this very moment; and despite the uncertainty of my future, I have already ceded control over those parts of my life's equation.
I am free because my flaws have allowed me to narrow my options; and since those options remain my only possible courses of action, I am more eager to do what I can and must in my present. It does give me some pressure, but it's a healthy kind of pressure, a pressure that tells me, "Rise to your level. You're better than this, so strive to be yourself."
It gives me the thrill out of being alive.
The prospect of failure of course remains daunting. Whether I fail or not is the question - failure does come, inevitably; what matters is that whether I will give myself an opportunity to fail --- but more than that, to succeed.
The hard part of nostalgia is reliving all the memories - both the good and the bad - and normally the bad memories stick out like sore thumbs. The design of emotion is such negativity will come up much more quickly over the positives. Or is it just me? Reminds me of Lennon's "God" where he says "God is a Concept by which we measure our pain."
Whichever is true, it still surprises me how people react to the prospect of failure. Since we are finite beings, inevitably there will come a time where we will fail at something. That's a hidebound, set-in-stone guarantee. I still wince, though, looking back at the failures in my life...
I have failed to keep my weight at a consistent level.
Earlier in my career, for a variety of reasons, I have failed to hold down jobs, even those of the cakewalk variety, or where I have even been an ideal fit.
I have failed to sustain a number of relationships that would have led to my making a lifetime commitment with someone.
I have failed to live up to my potential through my academic career (a failure which haunts me to this day).
I have let so many friends down during critical times.
It hurts to remember the failures. Still, it is liberating to be free of the baggage that came with those failures. I have accepted that I have failed and whatever consequences I have already reaped (and may, still, in the future) are already part and parcel of my life. They have defined me until this very moment; and despite the uncertainty of my future, I have already ceded control over those parts of my life's equation.
I am free because my flaws have allowed me to narrow my options; and since those options remain my only possible courses of action, I am more eager to do what I can and must in my present. It does give me some pressure, but it's a healthy kind of pressure, a pressure that tells me, "Rise to your level. You're better than this, so strive to be yourself."
It gives me the thrill out of being alive.
The prospect of failure of course remains daunting. Whether I fail or not is the question - failure does come, inevitably; what matters is that whether I will give myself an opportunity to fail --- but more than that, to succeed.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Ouch!
This article by former Supreme Court Justice Isagani Cruz is so spot-on the sting of it really smarts. Ouch!
Probable theme of the day: Lack of energy - I really need to cut down on some of that fatty stuff. My ankle hurts! (So again, another ouch!) Dampened creativity - need to jump-start my brain...
Mood of the day: Some desperation, some loneliness thrown as my expected correspondents seem to go on with their lives well enough without dropping me a missive. (Third time's probably the charm, I hope.)
Probable theme of the day: Lack of energy - I really need to cut down on some of that fatty stuff. My ankle hurts! (So again, another ouch!) Dampened creativity - need to jump-start my brain...
Mood of the day: Some desperation, some loneliness thrown as my expected correspondents seem to go on with their lives well enough without dropping me a missive. (Third time's probably the charm, I hope.)
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Slightly Random Thoughts
As one approaches this stage of life, it's hard the balancing the cold reality of pragmatism and the innocent dreams of youth. I once walked the streets declaring for a new order, fantasized about creating a new successful brand of communism, one that enables the people to build a stronger economy... oh, wait, the Chinese already have that!
My contemporaries who have their married lives have their lives in orbit around the sun of FAMILY, but I just wouldn't hand them the trophy of "successful lives" just yet. Still, it makes me wonder what exactly I have done in this lifetime. By the way, I have my family around me, anyway, only thing is I don't have a wife yet. (I'm babbling).
After all that is said and done, it never occurred to me that I should be making a record of something. Otherwise, I would have cheapened every act of charity I committed by asking for a receipt. Or insisting on a photo op.
I just wonder though if there is a way to freeze those moments in time. One way the management gurus tell us in reducing stress is to celebrate previous successes, no matter how small they may be.
So now I will have to withdraw into that world for a while until the next ripe opportunity for success turns out to be for real.
Going back though, I would like to refresh those moments of dreaming of a better world. Utopias still exist because there's still so much I have to do. In the spirit of John Lennon's "Imagine," I'd like to put in Florante's "Sana." (The remake never happened, please!)
With thanks to Florante's website.
SANA
Sana ang buhay ay walang dulo o hangganan.
Sana’y wala ng taong mahirap o mayaman.
Sana’y iisa ang kulay, sana ay wala ng away...
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin ng bawat isa sa mundo.
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin, sana’y magkatotoo.
Sana’y laging magbigayan.
Sana’y laging magmahalan.
Sana ang tao’y hindi nagugutom o nauuhaw.
Sana’y hindi na gumagabi o umaaraw.
Sana ay walang tag-init, sana ay walang taglamig
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin ng bawat isa sa mundo.
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin, sana’y magkatotoo.
Sana’y laging magbigayan
Sana’y laging magmahalan
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin ng bawat isa sa mundo.
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin, sana’y magkatotoo.
Sana’y laging magbigayan
Sana’y laging magmahalan
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin ng bawat isa sa mundo.
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin, sana’y magkatotoo.
Sana’y laging magbigayan
Sana’y laging magmahalan
My contemporaries who have their married lives have their lives in orbit around the sun of FAMILY, but I just wouldn't hand them the trophy of "successful lives" just yet. Still, it makes me wonder what exactly I have done in this lifetime. By the way, I have my family around me, anyway, only thing is I don't have a wife yet. (I'm babbling).
After all that is said and done, it never occurred to me that I should be making a record of something. Otherwise, I would have cheapened every act of charity I committed by asking for a receipt. Or insisting on a photo op.
I just wonder though if there is a way to freeze those moments in time. One way the management gurus tell us in reducing stress is to celebrate previous successes, no matter how small they may be.
So now I will have to withdraw into that world for a while until the next ripe opportunity for success turns out to be for real.
Going back though, I would like to refresh those moments of dreaming of a better world. Utopias still exist because there's still so much I have to do. In the spirit of John Lennon's "Imagine," I'd like to put in Florante's "Sana." (The remake never happened, please!)
With thanks to Florante's website.
SANA
Sana ang buhay ay walang dulo o hangganan.
Sana’y wala ng taong mahirap o mayaman.
Sana’y iisa ang kulay, sana ay wala ng away...
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin ng bawat isa sa mundo.
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin, sana’y magkatotoo.
Sana’y laging magbigayan.
Sana’y laging magmahalan.
Sana ang tao’y hindi nagugutom o nauuhaw.
Sana’y hindi na gumagabi o umaaraw.
Sana ay walang tag-init, sana ay walang taglamig
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin ng bawat isa sa mundo.
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin, sana’y magkatotoo.
Sana’y laging magbigayan
Sana’y laging magmahalan
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin ng bawat isa sa mundo.
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin, sana’y magkatotoo.
Sana’y laging magbigayan
Sana’y laging magmahalan
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin ng bawat isa sa mundo.
Sana’y pag-ibig na lang ang isipin, sana’y magkatotoo.
Sana’y laging magbigayan
Sana’y laging magmahalan
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
How Life Must End
Today is a day of remembering ... for four years he was the guy who was right after me in the class list. For years his mother and mine were always comparing notes about their boys, though we, their sons, tried to go on separate tracks.
I could say he was a natural - he was one of those sorts who earned his "street credibility" because he was so grown-up, almost a man by the time both of us were fifteen. And I knew he was smart - it was just a question of how his intelligence was oriented. While a number of us were in one sense "deluded" by intellectual exercises and world issues, he was coming to grips with his own identity, something that only came to me later in college and in my professional life.
One of my regrets was that I never really bothered to know him. He was on one end of the "spectra" in our homeroom class, and I was always regarded to be on the other.
His name was Saturnino Laririt III, dead by his own hand these fifteen years past. I can never confess to be one of his true friends while he was alive, so I will do my best to respect his memory now that he is dead. I had this vision of his eventual fate one day while we were walking to class sixteen years ago, when he told me he couldn't sleep and had to take a whole lot of sleeping pills. It was a sign that I didn't hook up on. But who knew? He was tough, resourceful, resilient, popular with girls --- the kind of guy I would have wanted to be except that I wanted better grades.
Life will come to an end for all of us --- and it would be a false breast-beating to go back over something that cannot be undone --- but I would have appreciated knowing Boying a little more, given the way my life turned out and how his, unfortunately, came to an accelerated end.
In the poignant song by Michael Jackson, the best moments of our lives are now, and the beauty of each person is to be treasured. Easier said than done, but it would be worth trying...
With music by Larry Grossman and lyrics by Buz Kohan
GONE TOO SOON
Like a comet
Blazing 'cross the evening sky
Gone too soon
Like a rainbow
Fading in the twinkling of an eye
Gone too soon
Shiny and sparkly
And splendidly bright
Here one day
Gone one night
Like the loss of sunlight
On a cloudy afternoon
Gone too soon
Like a castle
Built upon a sandy beach
Gone too soon
Like a perfect flower
That is just beyond your reach
Gone too soon
Born to amuse,
to inspire, to delight
Here one day
Gone one night
Like a sunset
Dying with the rising of the moon
Gone too soon
Gone too soon...
I could say he was a natural - he was one of those sorts who earned his "street credibility" because he was so grown-up, almost a man by the time both of us were fifteen. And I knew he was smart - it was just a question of how his intelligence was oriented. While a number of us were in one sense "deluded" by intellectual exercises and world issues, he was coming to grips with his own identity, something that only came to me later in college and in my professional life.
One of my regrets was that I never really bothered to know him. He was on one end of the "spectra" in our homeroom class, and I was always regarded to be on the other.
His name was Saturnino Laririt III, dead by his own hand these fifteen years past. I can never confess to be one of his true friends while he was alive, so I will do my best to respect his memory now that he is dead. I had this vision of his eventual fate one day while we were walking to class sixteen years ago, when he told me he couldn't sleep and had to take a whole lot of sleeping pills. It was a sign that I didn't hook up on. But who knew? He was tough, resourceful, resilient, popular with girls --- the kind of guy I would have wanted to be except that I wanted better grades.
Life will come to an end for all of us --- and it would be a false breast-beating to go back over something that cannot be undone --- but I would have appreciated knowing Boying a little more, given the way my life turned out and how his, unfortunately, came to an accelerated end.
In the poignant song by Michael Jackson, the best moments of our lives are now, and the beauty of each person is to be treasured. Easier said than done, but it would be worth trying...
With music by Larry Grossman and lyrics by Buz Kohan
GONE TOO SOON
Like a comet
Blazing 'cross the evening sky
Gone too soon
Like a rainbow
Fading in the twinkling of an eye
Gone too soon
Shiny and sparkly
And splendidly bright
Here one day
Gone one night
Like the loss of sunlight
On a cloudy afternoon
Gone too soon
Like a castle
Built upon a sandy beach
Gone too soon
Like a perfect flower
That is just beyond your reach
Gone too soon
Born to amuse,
to inspire, to delight
Here one day
Gone one night
Like a sunset
Dying with the rising of the moon
Gone too soon
Gone too soon...
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
The title comes from Roman satirist Juvenal's 2nd-century poem, and translates to: "But who watches the watchmen?"
The poem was an outright lambast on the decay of Roman morality. Men use the institution of marriage to advance their own careers, without regard for their feelings or commitments to the marriage vows; women, now aware of their bargaining power through the marital relationship, apparently do the same.
I never was a follower of double standards: what's good/bad for the goose should also be the same for the gander.
Yes, this is another rant on the political state of the Philippines under the "faithful watchmen" of our institutions. I quote the poem's most memorable quatrain:
"I hear all this time the advice of my old friends—
Put on a lock and keep your wife guarded behind doors.
Yes, but who will watch the watchmen?
The wife arranges accordingly and begins sleeping with them."
I am willing to take a gamble on the oppositionists, if only they have more to gain in making good on the demands for reform and change. However, I remain wary that their complaints are only for their self-serving agenda will do nothing for the good of the people and for the State.
This, however, does not let the administration off the hook. Likewise, I am tired of the loyalists who claim "pragmatism" and turn a blind eye to the shameful conduct of affairs of this administration. I am sick of them saying "I am not affected by these events, and all the evils in our country are caused by the opposition and the communists."
Sure thing.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that a conclusive case has not been built against the Estradas, despite all the documentation collated during the impeachment case in 2000-2001. Let's not forget that the Marcoses have subsequently "rehabilitated" their image and that the late President Marcos can earn a burial at the Libingan ng mga Bayani. Mark that against the opposition and communists too.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that Congressman Mikey Arroyo's net worth ballooned from P5 million to P74 million in two years.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that despite a clean slate and overwhelming public support, our electoral system has not been modernized. And that we lost something like P800 million to P1.2 billion in the process.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that a suspected vote-padder (among other things), Virgilio Garcillano, was appointed Comelec commissioner.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that P200 million was spent on the most-expensive (per kilometer) thoroughfare ever built, and that it was named after the President's late father to boot.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that no accounting can ever be made of the money OFWs paid for medical benefits, money that was funnelled to secure political support during the 2004 elections and thereafter.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that cases against the Oakwood plotters, Gen. Garcia, and a number of grafters are not moving.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault our budget will balloon to P1.1 trillion, leaving us in a greater debt hole and sink us into a deeper fiscal crisis.
Too much democracy? I disagree. The involvement of the people in our democracy is at best marginal despite all the signs of "mob rule." Mob rule is not democracy. Mob rule only obeys one rule: the raw emotion of the mob.
Strongman rule? All too tempting. From Plato down to Nietzsche, the establishment of authoritarian rule by a cadre of supermen has been the prescription for a healthier, more peaceful environment in which we can live.
As with the case of Marcos, he was both a victim and an exponent of our societal decay.
No matter whom we put on the watch, the question still arises - Who will watch the watchmen?
Until Filipinos grow up to be a more mature people, we will wallow in this morass.
The poem was an outright lambast on the decay of Roman morality. Men use the institution of marriage to advance their own careers, without regard for their feelings or commitments to the marriage vows; women, now aware of their bargaining power through the marital relationship, apparently do the same.
I never was a follower of double standards: what's good/bad for the goose should also be the same for the gander.
Yes, this is another rant on the political state of the Philippines under the "faithful watchmen" of our institutions. I quote the poem's most memorable quatrain:
"I hear all this time the advice of my old friends—
Put on a lock and keep your wife guarded behind doors.
Yes, but who will watch the watchmen?
The wife arranges accordingly and begins sleeping with them."
I am willing to take a gamble on the oppositionists, if only they have more to gain in making good on the demands for reform and change. However, I remain wary that their complaints are only for their self-serving agenda will do nothing for the good of the people and for the State.
This, however, does not let the administration off the hook. Likewise, I am tired of the loyalists who claim "pragmatism" and turn a blind eye to the shameful conduct of affairs of this administration. I am sick of them saying "I am not affected by these events, and all the evils in our country are caused by the opposition and the communists."
Sure thing.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that a conclusive case has not been built against the Estradas, despite all the documentation collated during the impeachment case in 2000-2001. Let's not forget that the Marcoses have subsequently "rehabilitated" their image and that the late President Marcos can earn a burial at the Libingan ng mga Bayani. Mark that against the opposition and communists too.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that Congressman Mikey Arroyo's net worth ballooned from P5 million to P74 million in two years.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that despite a clean slate and overwhelming public support, our electoral system has not been modernized. And that we lost something like P800 million to P1.2 billion in the process.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that a suspected vote-padder (among other things), Virgilio Garcillano, was appointed Comelec commissioner.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that P200 million was spent on the most-expensive (per kilometer) thoroughfare ever built, and that it was named after the President's late father to boot.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that no accounting can ever be made of the money OFWs paid for medical benefits, money that was funnelled to secure political support during the 2004 elections and thereafter.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault that cases against the Oakwood plotters, Gen. Garcia, and a number of grafters are not moving.
I guess it's the opposition's and communists' fault our budget will balloon to P1.1 trillion, leaving us in a greater debt hole and sink us into a deeper fiscal crisis.
Too much democracy? I disagree. The involvement of the people in our democracy is at best marginal despite all the signs of "mob rule." Mob rule is not democracy. Mob rule only obeys one rule: the raw emotion of the mob.
Strongman rule? All too tempting. From Plato down to Nietzsche, the establishment of authoritarian rule by a cadre of supermen has been the prescription for a healthier, more peaceful environment in which we can live.
As with the case of Marcos, he was both a victim and an exponent of our societal decay.
No matter whom we put on the watch, the question still arises - Who will watch the watchmen?
Until Filipinos grow up to be a more mature people, we will wallow in this morass.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Props to Thomas Gray
Gray's "Elegy Written in A Country Church-Yard" has to be one of the most anthologized poems written in English. It has the classic style all over it, with a few moralist tales for good measure. Just fits my mood today, so I guess it deserves some space here.
As for Gray himself, I am shocked that I didn't read up more on him when I was in high school and memorizing (not studying, of course, mind you) this piece. The parts of "Let Not Ambition..." and "Full many a gem..." are so spot-on; one more chafing and tragic reality in the world is that so many children die as thralls of evil politics and exclusion.
That the world is still on its course in this fashion makes me a privileged individual.
Your pardon, Heavenly Father, if I am blind to the blessings You have made possible for me to have.
ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds:
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care:
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share,
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the Poor.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:-
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault
If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise,
Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Can storied urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?
Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre:
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.
Th' applause of list'ning senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes,
Their lot forbad: nor circumscribed alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;
Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,
The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride
With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.
Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply:
And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?
On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires;
E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead,
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;
If chance, by lonely contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,
--Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,
Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn;
'There at the foot of yonder nodding beech
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high.
His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
'Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove;
Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.
'One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill,
Along the heath, and near his favourite tree;
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;
'The next with dirges due in sad array
Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne,-
Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'
The Epitaph
Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melacholy marked him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,
He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The bosom of his Father and his God.
By Thomas Gray (1716-71).
As for Gray himself, I am shocked that I didn't read up more on him when I was in high school and memorizing (not studying, of course, mind you) this piece. The parts of "Let Not Ambition..." and "Full many a gem..." are so spot-on; one more chafing and tragic reality in the world is that so many children die as thralls of evil politics and exclusion.
That the world is still on its course in this fashion makes me a privileged individual.
Your pardon, Heavenly Father, if I am blind to the blessings You have made possible for me to have.
=======
ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds:
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care:
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share,
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the Poor.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:-
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault
If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise,
Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Can storied urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?
Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre:
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.
Th' applause of list'ning senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes,
Their lot forbad: nor circumscribed alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;
Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,
The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride
With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.
Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply:
And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?
On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires;
E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead,
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;
If chance, by lonely contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,
--Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,
Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn;
'There at the foot of yonder nodding beech
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high.
His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
'Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove;
Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.
'One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill,
Along the heath, and near his favourite tree;
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;
'The next with dirges due in sad array
Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne,-
Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'
The Epitaph
Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melacholy marked him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,
He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The bosom of his Father and his God.
By Thomas Gray (1716-71).
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Maliwanag
Kung ang buwan ay maliwanag
At iilawan ang ating mundo
Bulag pa rin ang aking pag-iisip
Puno ng lungkot na sa liwanag ay
Kikitil.
Kung ang tinig mo ay maliwanag
At babasagin ang katahimikan
Bingi pa rin ang aking kaluluwa
Nagumon ng pagkabalisa't
Pinipigil.
Liwanag ang layon ng Maykapal
Sa pagbuo ng ating mundo
Liwanag ang lagi mong hinahanap
Sa oras ng paggising mo
Hinulma tayo ayon sa liwanag
At magbigay-ligaya sa lahat ng nilalang.
Saksi tayo ng nag-iisang liwanag
Na nag-alay sa atin ng katotohanan.
Kung ang diwa ko ay may liwanag
At maunawaan ang aking sinasalamin
Ang kinabukasan ko'y walang katiyakan
Balot sa pangagamba, bihag ng
Hilahil.
At iilawan ang ating mundo
Bulag pa rin ang aking pag-iisip
Puno ng lungkot na sa liwanag ay
Kikitil.
Kung ang tinig mo ay maliwanag
At babasagin ang katahimikan
Bingi pa rin ang aking kaluluwa
Nagumon ng pagkabalisa't
Pinipigil.
Liwanag ang layon ng Maykapal
Sa pagbuo ng ating mundo
Liwanag ang lagi mong hinahanap
Sa oras ng paggising mo
Hinulma tayo ayon sa liwanag
At magbigay-ligaya sa lahat ng nilalang.
Saksi tayo ng nag-iisang liwanag
Na nag-alay sa atin ng katotohanan.
Kung ang diwa ko ay may liwanag
At maunawaan ang aking sinasalamin
Ang kinabukasan ko'y walang katiyakan
Balot sa pangagamba, bihag ng
Hilahil.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Waiting for the Fall
It's almost impossible to think of the most intense passions without coming up with bad poetry. Of course even with passions the circus back home is front-and-center in my consciousness. The political situation in the Philippines would turn off most people; I am glued to the set finding out reason or rhyme to this whole mess.
My only comment for all the opportunistic politicians is: Ang kakapal n'yo!
Back to poetry... I remember this wonderful piece by Byron which Ron Perlman read during the series "Beauty and the Beast" (in the '80s, when Linda Hamilton was still relevant).
She Walks In Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade more, one ray less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Lord Byron (1788-1824)
"The First Time I Loved Forever" from that show was also a poignant song... posting this, I am aware that I am reaching for catharsis, but I want to avoid writing any more bad poetry, as evidenced by this comment. Spontaneous gusts of emotion may seem to carry the whole world on your shoulders, but it's still third-rate writing.
I've learned that emotion too, while filling the life of a romance, is not what would create a great relationship. I'm still young enough to savor the juvenile dreams I had, but I no longer have the alacrity to jump at the prospect of a possible relationship.
Erich Fromm writes: "Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence." Does it make my life less that I have no one specific to share my life with? My friends in the religious say that one's existence takes on a greater relevance when there is a mission. It's strange but when I revisit my own statements, I'm actually doing what I wrote down.
So why do I still feel alone? Do I need to fall in love again?
Only the Lord knows.
"Blessed are those who long to give all the time to God and shake themselves free of all the trammels of this world. My soul, here is something for you to heed; shut fast the doors that comes through the senses, that so you hear what the Lord your God is speaking within you."
--- Thomas a Kempis, the Imitation of Christ
My only comment for all the opportunistic politicians is: Ang kakapal n'yo!
Back to poetry... I remember this wonderful piece by Byron which Ron Perlman read during the series "Beauty and the Beast" (in the '80s, when Linda Hamilton was still relevant).
She Walks In Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade more, one ray less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Lord Byron (1788-1824)
"The First Time I Loved Forever" from that show was also a poignant song... posting this, I am aware that I am reaching for catharsis, but I want to avoid writing any more bad poetry, as evidenced by this comment. Spontaneous gusts of emotion may seem to carry the whole world on your shoulders, but it's still third-rate writing.
I've learned that emotion too, while filling the life of a romance, is not what would create a great relationship. I'm still young enough to savor the juvenile dreams I had, but I no longer have the alacrity to jump at the prospect of a possible relationship.
Erich Fromm writes: "Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence." Does it make my life less that I have no one specific to share my life with? My friends in the religious say that one's existence takes on a greater relevance when there is a mission. It's strange but when I revisit my own statements, I'm actually doing what I wrote down.
So why do I still feel alone? Do I need to fall in love again?
Only the Lord knows.
"Blessed are those who long to give all the time to God and shake themselves free of all the trammels of this world. My soul, here is something for you to heed; shut fast the doors that comes through the senses, that so you hear what the Lord your God is speaking within you."
--- Thomas a Kempis, the Imitation of Christ
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
O me! O life!
There is a tendency for people to go inward rather than outward when facing crises. Some people call it listening to the voice of God. Some people call it meditation and clearing out emotional baggage. My former colleagues at Integrative Learning would call it an A-I-C time (it isn't the same, really, if you ask them).
Whatever name it may be, reflection oftentimes works.
My inspiration is Uncle Walt (Whitman, not Disney), and strangely enough, I discovered this poem through Peter Weir's "Dead Poets Society":
O me! O life! of these questions recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew'd,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring - What good amid these? O me, O life?
Answer -
That you are here - that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
(Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass)
My thoughts exactly. Still feeling irrelevant? Just read back and reflect.
And - oh! the political situation in the Philippines, hey? What more can I say? I'm just glad to be
SITTING ON THE FENCE.
Because it feels so pretentious to bellow out one way or the other as the impasse grows. The terror attacks in London carry more significance as what kinds of freedom will be affected by the measures the British government will take.
Still, the oppressed remain oppressed. John Lennon puts it succinctly in one of the Beatles' B-side's, "Rain":
If the rain comes they run and hide their heads.
They might as well be dead.
If the rain comes, if the rain comes.
When the sun shines they slip into the shade
(When the sun shines down.)
And drink their lemonade.
(When the sun shines down.)
When the sun shines, when the sun shines.
Rain, I don't mind.
Shine, the weather's fine.
I can show you that when it starts to rain,
(When the rain comes down.)
Everything's the same.
(When the rain comes down.)
I can show you, I can show you.
Rain, I don't mind.
Shine, the weather's fine.
Can you hear me, that when it rains and shines,
(When it rains and shines.)
It's just a state of mind?
(When itrains and shines.)
Can you hear me, can you hear me?
sdaeh rieht edih dna nur yeht semoc niar eht fI.
(Rain)
naiR.
(Rain)
enihsnuS.
Rain or shine, it's all the same, the politicking musical-chairs game.
Whatever name it may be, reflection oftentimes works.
My inspiration is Uncle Walt (Whitman, not Disney), and strangely enough, I discovered this poem through Peter Weir's "Dead Poets Society":
O me! O life! of these questions recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew'd,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring - What good amid these? O me, O life?
Answer -
That you are here - that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
(Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass)
My thoughts exactly. Still feeling irrelevant? Just read back and reflect.
And - oh! the political situation in the Philippines, hey? What more can I say? I'm just glad to be
SITTING ON THE FENCE.
Because it feels so pretentious to bellow out one way or the other as the impasse grows. The terror attacks in London carry more significance as what kinds of freedom will be affected by the measures the British government will take.
Still, the oppressed remain oppressed. John Lennon puts it succinctly in one of the Beatles' B-side's, "Rain":
If the rain comes they run and hide their heads.
They might as well be dead.
If the rain comes, if the rain comes.
When the sun shines they slip into the shade
(When the sun shines down.)
And drink their lemonade.
(When the sun shines down.)
When the sun shines, when the sun shines.
Rain, I don't mind.
Shine, the weather's fine.
I can show you that when it starts to rain,
(When the rain comes down.)
Everything's the same.
(When the rain comes down.)
I can show you, I can show you.
Rain, I don't mind.
Shine, the weather's fine.
Can you hear me, that when it rains and shines,
(When it rains and shines.)
It's just a state of mind?
(When itrains and shines.)
Can you hear me, can you hear me?
sdaeh rieht edih dna nur yeht semoc niar eht fI.
(Rain)
naiR.
(Rain)
enihsnuS.
Rain or shine, it's all the same, the politicking musical-chairs game.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Mga Pana-Panaginip
Dedicated to the seniors of Tala Public High School, 1991-92.
Unang Boses
Minsan, parati na lang tayong nahihimbing.
Ayaw na nating magising, panay pangarap na lang.
E sino ba ang hahangad ng katotohanan
Kapag napakasaya ng ating mundo sa guniguni?
Ano ang iyong masasabi sa aking pangarap
Na aabot sa bituin at sasakop sa mundo?
Ako, ang nais ko ay ang maging matagumpay
Sa larangan ng pangangalakal at sa kayamanan.
Magtatayo ako ng makapalasyong bahay
At magmamay-ari ako ng sandosenang sasakyan.
Hindi naman lingid sa karamihan natin dito
Ang kayamanan ay kapangyariha't katanyagan.
Mahirap ngang yumaman at ito'y totoo
Pagpapakasakit at pagsisikap ang sikreto diyan.
Ikalawang Boses
Sino nga ba ang maniniwala sa kahibangan
Na iyong pinapangarap sa iyong sarili?
Sabagay, kilala ko naman ang nais mo
Makasarili at suwapang sa kuwartang
Hindi mo naman maiuuwi sa iyong libingan.
Di bale na lang, iba na ang aking pakay.
Sa Panginoon ko ihahandog at iaalay
Puso't diwa ko, at ang buong buhay.
Hangad ko ang pagturo ng Kanyang batas,
At isabog ang pag-ibig ng Tagapagligtas,
Hamunin ang tao para sa kabutihan
At sikapin na sila'y mapaglingkuran.
Mahirap na buhay, at huwag kayong magkamali
Pumasok na alangan, at magapasya ng madali.
Ikatlong Boses
Ha! Sino naman ang niloko ninyo
Mga hunghang na tulog habang kayo'y dilat?
Sino naman ang makikinabang
Sa huling pagbigay ng iyong pagsisikap,
Kung kayo'y walang anak na mapapangaralan
Upang magbuhat ng iyong pamana?
Pamilyang buo at masaya sa bawat araw
Ang aking ninanais at pinagsisikapan,
Pawis at hirap ko sa kanila'y laan,
At ito'y magbubunga pagdating ng araw.
Pamilyang mabuti ang siyang nagdudulot
Mabuting mamamayan at tanyag na pinuno.
At kung susundan natin ang ating ninuno,
Sila'y nagkamali, kaya ito ang naabot!
Sila'y Nagkasabay
Kayo'y nagkamali, pangarap ninyo'y di-likas
Sa hinahangad ng tao't layon niyang tunay!
Ano pa kaya ang hahanapin ng isang tao
Kung hindi ang mga bagay sa kaluluwa'y bukal?
Ang pangarap na ganiya'y hindi nauukol
Sa katotohanan ng ating buhay
At sa kahirapan ng ating mundo?
Unang Boses
Ako ang tama! Kayo ang mali!
Ang hinahanap ng tao'y tagumpay ng sarili!
Hindi sakripisyong walang katuparan
Ngunit pagsisikap para sa kayamanan!
Ikalawang Boses
Hindi! Nagkakamali ka!
Ang layon ng tao'y ay wala nang iba
Kung hindi paglingkuran ang ating Poon
At tumamo ng lugar sa naparoroon.
Ikatlong Boses
At sa aking pangarap nagbubunga ang lahat!
Ang aking pangarap ang siyang dapat
Pagtuunan ng pansin at pagbigyan
Upang makaabot sa kinabukasan...
Ang Huling Boses
Teka! Mga kaibigan, saan kayo darako
Sa ganitong alitan at pakikipag-away?
Hindi ninyo ba napapansin
Ang iyong pangarap ang siyang salamin
Ng iyong sarili at hinahangad?
Kung ganyan ang iyong pinahahalagahan
Walang makapagsasabi na kayo'y mali
At panaginip iyan lamang.
Tingnan ninyo ang iyong ninanais,
Mga tama't mali, mga luha at tamis.
Pangarap iyan, mga kaibigan, suriin...
Higit ang pagmanas sa unang tingin...
Kayo'y gumising na!
Unang Boses
Minsan, parati na lang tayong nahihimbing.
Ayaw na nating magising, panay pangarap na lang.
E sino ba ang hahangad ng katotohanan
Kapag napakasaya ng ating mundo sa guniguni?
Ano ang iyong masasabi sa aking pangarap
Na aabot sa bituin at sasakop sa mundo?
Ako, ang nais ko ay ang maging matagumpay
Sa larangan ng pangangalakal at sa kayamanan.
Magtatayo ako ng makapalasyong bahay
At magmamay-ari ako ng sandosenang sasakyan.
Hindi naman lingid sa karamihan natin dito
Ang kayamanan ay kapangyariha't katanyagan.
Mahirap ngang yumaman at ito'y totoo
Pagpapakasakit at pagsisikap ang sikreto diyan.
Ikalawang Boses
Sino nga ba ang maniniwala sa kahibangan
Na iyong pinapangarap sa iyong sarili?
Sabagay, kilala ko naman ang nais mo
Makasarili at suwapang sa kuwartang
Hindi mo naman maiuuwi sa iyong libingan.
Di bale na lang, iba na ang aking pakay.
Sa Panginoon ko ihahandog at iaalay
Puso't diwa ko, at ang buong buhay.
Hangad ko ang pagturo ng Kanyang batas,
At isabog ang pag-ibig ng Tagapagligtas,
Hamunin ang tao para sa kabutihan
At sikapin na sila'y mapaglingkuran.
Mahirap na buhay, at huwag kayong magkamali
Pumasok na alangan, at magapasya ng madali.
Ikatlong Boses
Ha! Sino naman ang niloko ninyo
Mga hunghang na tulog habang kayo'y dilat?
Sino naman ang makikinabang
Sa huling pagbigay ng iyong pagsisikap,
Kung kayo'y walang anak na mapapangaralan
Upang magbuhat ng iyong pamana?
Pamilyang buo at masaya sa bawat araw
Ang aking ninanais at pinagsisikapan,
Pawis at hirap ko sa kanila'y laan,
At ito'y magbubunga pagdating ng araw.
Pamilyang mabuti ang siyang nagdudulot
Mabuting mamamayan at tanyag na pinuno.
At kung susundan natin ang ating ninuno,
Sila'y nagkamali, kaya ito ang naabot!
Sila'y Nagkasabay
Kayo'y nagkamali, pangarap ninyo'y di-likas
Sa hinahangad ng tao't layon niyang tunay!
Ano pa kaya ang hahanapin ng isang tao
Kung hindi ang mga bagay sa kaluluwa'y bukal?
Ang pangarap na ganiya'y hindi nauukol
Sa katotohanan ng ating buhay
At sa kahirapan ng ating mundo?
Unang Boses
Ako ang tama! Kayo ang mali!
Ang hinahanap ng tao'y tagumpay ng sarili!
Hindi sakripisyong walang katuparan
Ngunit pagsisikap para sa kayamanan!
Ikalawang Boses
Hindi! Nagkakamali ka!
Ang layon ng tao'y ay wala nang iba
Kung hindi paglingkuran ang ating Poon
At tumamo ng lugar sa naparoroon.
Ikatlong Boses
At sa aking pangarap nagbubunga ang lahat!
Ang aking pangarap ang siyang dapat
Pagtuunan ng pansin at pagbigyan
Upang makaabot sa kinabukasan...
Ang Huling Boses
Teka! Mga kaibigan, saan kayo darako
Sa ganitong alitan at pakikipag-away?
Hindi ninyo ba napapansin
Ang iyong pangarap ang siyang salamin
Ng iyong sarili at hinahangad?
Kung ganyan ang iyong pinahahalagahan
Walang makapagsasabi na kayo'y mali
At panaginip iyan lamang.
Tingnan ninyo ang iyong ninanais,
Mga tama't mali, mga luha at tamis.
Pangarap iyan, mga kaibigan, suriin...
Higit ang pagmanas sa unang tingin...
Kayo'y gumising na!
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Desiderata Redux
Max Ehrmann wrote "Desiderata" or "Things to be Desired" in 1927. It has been attributed to an older time, and to other authors, but this piece stands the test of time. It offers the most practical wisdom anyone can ever expect.
When my father was approaching the nadir of his life (though we never realized it), he took an active interest in Desiderata and decided to make a Filipino translation. His treatment was more New Age, in keeping with the fads of the time (the drama of "Seth Speaks" comes to mind). My father's interpretation notwithstanding, I also decided to translate it myself.
It's been a while, and my Filipino has gotten really rusty, so my translation may seem uneven and in places may be outright wrong.
In whatever form, this piece has been an inspiration to me. The things to be desired are so practical some people don't even know they are there.
D E S I D E R A T A
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love,for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
And now, for the Filipino version:
Humayo ka nang matiwasay sa gitna ng ingay at pagmamadali, at alalahanin mong may kapayapaan pang mahahanap sa pananahimik.
Hanggang sa iyong makakayang walang pagsusuko sikapin mong maging mabuti ang pakikitungo mo sa lahat ng tao. Bigkasin mo ang katotohanan mo nang banayad at tahasan, at makinig ka sa iba, kahit na sa mga tanga man o mangmang; mayroon din silang maibabahagi. Iwasan mo ang mga taong maiingay at tampalasan, nakaliligalig lamang sila ng kaluluwa.
Kung ihahambing mo ang sarili mo sa iba maaaring maging palalo at mapaghinanakit ka, sapagkat sadyang may lalamang sa iyo at mayroon kang lalamangan.
Tamasahin mo ang iyong tagumpay at balakin. Bigyan mo ng kaukulang pansin ang iyong gawain, kulang man ng halaga ito sa iba; ito’y tunay na kayamanan sa pabagu-bagong kapalaran ng panahon.Mag-ingat ka sa iyong paghahanapbuhay, sapagkat puno ng paglilinlang ang mundo. Ngunit huwag ka sanang mabulag nito sa anumang kabutihang taglay; kay raming nagpupunyagi para sa dakilang mithiin, at kahit saan matatagpuan mo ang kabayanihan.
Magpakatotoo ka sa sarili mo. Higit sa lahat, huwag kang magkunwa ng pagsinta, at huwag mo ring kutyain ang pagmamahal, sapagkat sa harap ng kawalan at pagkabigo, ito’y palaging sumisibol tulad ng damo.
Magiliw mong tanggapin ang ipinapayo ng nagdaraang taon, at malugod mong iwanan ang mga bagay ng iyong kabataan. Bigyang mo ng kalinga ang lakas ng loob bilang panangga sa biglang balikwas ng kapalaran. Ngunit huwag mong gambalain ang iyong sarili ng masamang guniguni. Maraming pangamba ay bunga ng pagod at kalungkutan. Maliban na lamang sa disiplinang nakabubuti, maging banayad ka sa sarili mo.
Ika’y anak ng sanlibutan tulad din ng mga puno at mga tala; may karapatan ka mabuhay rito. At maliwanag man o hindi para sa iyo, tiyak na karapat-dapat ang pag-usbong ng sanlibutan.
Samakatuwid, makipagtuos ka na sa Diyos anuman ang pag-aakala mo sa kanya. At kahit anuman ang iyong larangan at hangarin, sa maingay na kaguluhan ng buhay, panatilihin mo ang kapayapaan sa kaluluwa mo. Datapuwat may kasinungalian, aliwaswas, at nawasak na pangarap, maganda pa rin ang daigdig na ito.
Magpakagalak ka. Sikapin mong maging maligaya.
When my father was approaching the nadir of his life (though we never realized it), he took an active interest in Desiderata and decided to make a Filipino translation. His treatment was more New Age, in keeping with the fads of the time (the drama of "Seth Speaks" comes to mind). My father's interpretation notwithstanding, I also decided to translate it myself.
It's been a while, and my Filipino has gotten really rusty, so my translation may seem uneven and in places may be outright wrong.
In whatever form, this piece has been an inspiration to me. The things to be desired are so practical some people don't even know they are there.
D E S I D E R A T A
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love,for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
And now, for the Filipino version:
Humayo ka nang matiwasay sa gitna ng ingay at pagmamadali, at alalahanin mong may kapayapaan pang mahahanap sa pananahimik.
Hanggang sa iyong makakayang walang pagsusuko sikapin mong maging mabuti ang pakikitungo mo sa lahat ng tao. Bigkasin mo ang katotohanan mo nang banayad at tahasan, at makinig ka sa iba, kahit na sa mga tanga man o mangmang; mayroon din silang maibabahagi. Iwasan mo ang mga taong maiingay at tampalasan, nakaliligalig lamang sila ng kaluluwa.
Kung ihahambing mo ang sarili mo sa iba maaaring maging palalo at mapaghinanakit ka, sapagkat sadyang may lalamang sa iyo at mayroon kang lalamangan.
Tamasahin mo ang iyong tagumpay at balakin. Bigyan mo ng kaukulang pansin ang iyong gawain, kulang man ng halaga ito sa iba; ito’y tunay na kayamanan sa pabagu-bagong kapalaran ng panahon.Mag-ingat ka sa iyong paghahanapbuhay, sapagkat puno ng paglilinlang ang mundo. Ngunit huwag ka sanang mabulag nito sa anumang kabutihang taglay; kay raming nagpupunyagi para sa dakilang mithiin, at kahit saan matatagpuan mo ang kabayanihan.
Magpakatotoo ka sa sarili mo. Higit sa lahat, huwag kang magkunwa ng pagsinta, at huwag mo ring kutyain ang pagmamahal, sapagkat sa harap ng kawalan at pagkabigo, ito’y palaging sumisibol tulad ng damo.
Magiliw mong tanggapin ang ipinapayo ng nagdaraang taon, at malugod mong iwanan ang mga bagay ng iyong kabataan. Bigyang mo ng kalinga ang lakas ng loob bilang panangga sa biglang balikwas ng kapalaran. Ngunit huwag mong gambalain ang iyong sarili ng masamang guniguni. Maraming pangamba ay bunga ng pagod at kalungkutan. Maliban na lamang sa disiplinang nakabubuti, maging banayad ka sa sarili mo.
Ika’y anak ng sanlibutan tulad din ng mga puno at mga tala; may karapatan ka mabuhay rito. At maliwanag man o hindi para sa iyo, tiyak na karapat-dapat ang pag-usbong ng sanlibutan.
Samakatuwid, makipagtuos ka na sa Diyos anuman ang pag-aakala mo sa kanya. At kahit anuman ang iyong larangan at hangarin, sa maingay na kaguluhan ng buhay, panatilihin mo ang kapayapaan sa kaluluwa mo. Datapuwat may kasinungalian, aliwaswas, at nawasak na pangarap, maganda pa rin ang daigdig na ito.
Magpakagalak ka. Sikapin mong maging maligaya.
Monday, July 04, 2005
Voices Amid the Diaspora
Today's link has to be more news:
http://news.inq7.net/breaking/index.php?index=1&story_id=42304
Three things stand out in this news flash:
1) Acting Labor Secretary Danilo Cruz says: "We are confident that our goal to deploy a million OFWs globally continues on a firm and stable track." Official government policy has made trafficking of Filipino workers a priority. What Cruz does not say is that the unemployment rate has not seen single digits in a long, long time. There are not enough new jobs created. And we're not even talking about underemployment.
2) The Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas earlier reported that OFW remittances rose by 17.22 percent from January to April 2005 to $3.072 billion from $2.621 billion in the same period last year. Consider that the Philippines has the third-largest migrant worker count (after China and India) and has the third-largest remittance volume (after Mexico and India), so it's safe to say, per capita, the Philippines is the country most dependent on foreign remittances and foreign-based workers. While this is not entirely a bad thing, the dearth of government initiatives for overseas workers outside of OWWA is appalling. Assuming OWWA is doing its job, which many well nigh have a right to complain about.
3) Labor Secretary Patricia Sto. Tomas said the Philippines continues to supply 20 to 25 percent of the world's maritime workers. This is an amazing statistic, and it's so sad that we don't have a strong merchant marine, since most vessels are registered elsewhere.
OFWs should keep demanding more than just a vote. With the money we send, we deserve more representation. Any effort to tax us should be enough for us to say "No Taxation Without Representation."
At the same time, it's time to put an end to self-appointed protectors among the Left who pretend that they speak for us. My message to these guys: Poverty and exploitation are everywhere, you fools! What all OFWs desire is a chance to come back --- don't make it any harder for us to come back by railing against the government. Look for solutions, not propaganda points. We already have a financially and morally bankrupt government, so don't pretend you know any more than what we already know.
Amid this diaspora, I'm certain there are voices that represent a dynamism that Filipinos back home have not demonstrated in a long time. The leadership that the country needs is already among us - and the experiences we have picked up outside the country should be put to more use than complaining and whining, "Mabuti pa sa ________ (fill country name), mayroong...."
I'll tell you what's missing. In most countries Filipinos have a respect for the law and abide by rules and regulations. And manage to succeed despite, rather, because of this adherence. That's because we work harder - we can't rely on connections alone in order to perform.
Voices amid the diaspora should raise theirs to send this message to the people back home.
http://news.inq7.net/breaking/index.php?index=1&story_id=42304
Three things stand out in this news flash:
1) Acting Labor Secretary Danilo Cruz says: "We are confident that our goal to deploy a million OFWs globally continues on a firm and stable track." Official government policy has made trafficking of Filipino workers a priority. What Cruz does not say is that the unemployment rate has not seen single digits in a long, long time. There are not enough new jobs created. And we're not even talking about underemployment.
2) The Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas earlier reported that OFW remittances rose by 17.22 percent from January to April 2005 to $3.072 billion from $2.621 billion in the same period last year. Consider that the Philippines has the third-largest migrant worker count (after China and India) and has the third-largest remittance volume (after Mexico and India), so it's safe to say, per capita, the Philippines is the country most dependent on foreign remittances and foreign-based workers. While this is not entirely a bad thing, the dearth of government initiatives for overseas workers outside of OWWA is appalling. Assuming OWWA is doing its job, which many well nigh have a right to complain about.
3) Labor Secretary Patricia Sto. Tomas said the Philippines continues to supply 20 to 25 percent of the world's maritime workers. This is an amazing statistic, and it's so sad that we don't have a strong merchant marine, since most vessels are registered elsewhere.
OFWs should keep demanding more than just a vote. With the money we send, we deserve more representation. Any effort to tax us should be enough for us to say "No Taxation Without Representation."
At the same time, it's time to put an end to self-appointed protectors among the Left who pretend that they speak for us. My message to these guys: Poverty and exploitation are everywhere, you fools! What all OFWs desire is a chance to come back --- don't make it any harder for us to come back by railing against the government. Look for solutions, not propaganda points. We already have a financially and morally bankrupt government, so don't pretend you know any more than what we already know.
Amid this diaspora, I'm certain there are voices that represent a dynamism that Filipinos back home have not demonstrated in a long time. The leadership that the country needs is already among us - and the experiences we have picked up outside the country should be put to more use than complaining and whining, "Mabuti pa sa ________ (fill country name), mayroong...."
I'll tell you what's missing. In most countries Filipinos have a respect for the law and abide by rules and regulations. And manage to succeed despite, rather, because of this adherence. That's because we work harder - we can't rely on connections alone in order to perform.
Voices amid the diaspora should raise theirs to send this message to the people back home.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Namaste
In Living, Loving, and Learning, Leo Buscaglia writes:
“In India, every time you meet or say goodbye to somebody you put your hands in front of you and say ‘Namaste.’ That means, ‘I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides. I honor the place in you where, if you are at the place in you, and I am at the place in me, there is only one of us.’”
I always felt the foregoing passage to mean:
“I value you for your goodness, and because of you, my life has become more valuable.”
"That you exist makes my existence worthwhile and special."
Jack Nicholson mouths Mike Nichols' words in "As Good as it Gets": "You make me want to be a better man." Sounds good too, if not more poetic and romantic.
Namaste.
“In India, every time you meet or say goodbye to somebody you put your hands in front of you and say ‘Namaste.’ That means, ‘I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides. I honor the place in you where, if you are at the place in you, and I am at the place in me, there is only one of us.’”
I always felt the foregoing passage to mean:
“I value you for your goodness, and because of you, my life has become more valuable.”
"That you exist makes my existence worthwhile and special."
Jack Nicholson mouths Mike Nichols' words in "As Good as it Gets": "You make me want to be a better man." Sounds good too, if not more poetic and romantic.
Namaste.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Still Crazy, Still Young
I hate seeing myself on video. I'm starting to look like Frank Drilon, and given the way Frank Drilon looks like and who he is supporting right now, that's not good.
I saw a video of myself yesterday following the Induction of the Officers of the Society of Performing Arts last Thursday afternoon. As usual, yours truly started out a reluctant volunteer and then gave it the good old try, which ended in my being elected as Secretary of the organization this year… seeing myself as the emcee is really troubling, and the evidence was clearly shown on tape… holy crap! They say TV adds about 10 pounds on you. Either that camera must be really bad or I must be packing an additional 20 pounds!
I can't say I'm not happy with the situation. Every day I'm falling more and more in love with these children. It's just hard not to, and some people may say it's only because I don't have the burden of having them everyday. But that's just the point. I get to love them more because I don't have any of my own.
Mostly I like having them as friends. I'm never been much of a grown-up anyway ("still crazy after all these years," I would proudly say). There's something to be said listening to a fresh point of view, because for a child, everything is so alive because everything is just happening for the first time.
My buddy Des is asking me is it bad to want to re-connect with the past...and I think he hit it right on the nail. I would wager that he doesn't miss the feelings, which he could get from his wonderful relationship with wife and baby girl, but perhaps he misses the novelty. And of course the people that went with the experience.
It's so much more apt for me to seek "a woman and child of my own, just for me, just be free." The feeling sometimes swells in my heart I fear that I will burst.
I saw a video of myself yesterday following the Induction of the Officers of the Society of Performing Arts last Thursday afternoon. As usual, yours truly started out a reluctant volunteer and then gave it the good old try, which ended in my being elected as Secretary of the organization this year… seeing myself as the emcee is really troubling, and the evidence was clearly shown on tape… holy crap! They say TV adds about 10 pounds on you. Either that camera must be really bad or I must be packing an additional 20 pounds!
I can't say I'm not happy with the situation. Every day I'm falling more and more in love with these children. It's just hard not to, and some people may say it's only because I don't have the burden of having them everyday. But that's just the point. I get to love them more because I don't have any of my own.
Mostly I like having them as friends. I'm never been much of a grown-up anyway ("still crazy after all these years," I would proudly say). There's something to be said listening to a fresh point of view, because for a child, everything is so alive because everything is just happening for the first time.
My buddy Des is asking me is it bad to want to re-connect with the past...and I think he hit it right on the nail. I would wager that he doesn't miss the feelings, which he could get from his wonderful relationship with wife and baby girl, but perhaps he misses the novelty. And of course the people that went with the experience.
It's so much more apt for me to seek "a woman and child of my own, just for me, just be free." The feeling sometimes swells in my heart I fear that I will burst.
(Edit: While we still have time, we have the chance to find it all. But first I have to look at this as opportunity rather than threat. At least I would sound more positive. Where are the wisecracks when I need them?)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)