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.

*****

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?

*****

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.

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.

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.

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)

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.

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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.)

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

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...

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.

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).

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.

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

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

(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?)

Steve Jobs - "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish."

I think this is worthwhile sharing. Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple and its present chairman, gave this speech at the commencement of Stanford University, 12 June 2005.

Steve Jobs's Stanford University Commencement Speech

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on.

Let me give you one example: Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky – I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parent's garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him.

So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating. I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley.

But something slowly began to dawn on me – I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over. I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life. During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the world's first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I retuned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle.

As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 inthe morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I 'm fine now. This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades.

Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept: No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true. Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life.

Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

And So It Goes

"And so it goes...and so it goes.... and you're the only one who knows."

The burden of the passage of time becomes more and more difficult to bear observing the events of the Philippines.

Circa 1998, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo received a mandate from the people to be Vice President of the Philippines. The President, Joseph Estrada, is from the political opposition but receives the largest-ever mandate in Philippine presidential election history. Such is the fortune of the darlings of the masa.

I can never blame the masa, but I can always blame those who practice such form of populist politics. Have we really run out of leaders to elect, or merely field candidates and use them as lame ducks?

True enough, while Erap assembled a great team from all areas of the ideological spectrum, he did it with a panache that many people hoped would mean genuine reform. But alas, but before the echoes of his proclamation speech have dissipated, Erap literally shot himself in the foot - too many mistresses, too many midnight meetings, too many drinking sprees, and worst of all, the worst kind of friends. Not the evil ones, just the stupid ones.

No one had reined Estrada in, and his dissipation played into the hands of his enemies. While I never liked Erap, I pitied the way he was massacred by his erstwhile friends and allies. The snobs among the power-brokers must have been smiling from ear to ear during the sordid affair of Juetengate.

Here comes Gloria, self-anointed savior and goaded on by members of civil society to make a difference. Only... despite her record as a legislator, Gloria never exhibited the kind of political independence to break away from the mold.

Many people celebrated the ouster of Erap, but those agitators who said "Resign All" must, in some way, prophesied the impasse where the Filipinos find themselves now.

Dare we celebrate being vindicated in our belief, or wouldn't we have wanted Gloria to have done something different. Her thrashing of her Rizal Day 2002 speech of not running again should have unmanned a lot of people. I was, and vowed not to support her, for any reason.

THE ADMINISTRATION FEARED THE COMING OF FPJ. Again, both sides knew it was a numbers game, and the Filipino people merrily played along. So now, you have an unpopular and perhaps bogus President, and a populist tool as Vice President.

The stars smiled at Noli de Castro when he ran for Vice President. Of course, those stars have aligned to muddle up the situation.

Everyone wants proof somewhere that the President cheated. Yes, bring it on. Whatever happens, the institution of the President's office, Congress, Comelec, and even the notion of voting have been savaged.

And so it goes, and so it goes, and no one really knows. Will cynicism triumph? Maybe.

I just hope they pack it in before Christmas.

Coming To A Head

Adapted.

The ongoing political crisis is a big wet blanket. Certainly we need no more goads to deepen our cynicism over Philippine government and institutions.

Here come the radical NGOs like Migrante and spokesperson Maita Santiago saying that OFWs should stop remitting back to the Philippines or not to use banking channels at all.

As to the intelligence of such a suggestion, well, I'd like to demur comment. This is of course, a real no-brainer --- and my answer to Maita and her ilk: Go get a job! Better yet, go get a life!

If mainstream OFWs had a more comprehensive menu on which to base their choices, leaving the Philippines wouldhardly be palatable. As it is, it is hardly a great choice either right now, even with the Philippines in turmoil. A Maita Santiago would keep her mouth shut if this is just the kind ofuninformed, sweeping generalization she is prepared (or ill-prepared)to make. I'm glad I don't have to follow that kind of tune.

However, I feel that ordinary Filipinos still have their say. Notwithstanding the lightheartedness of poking fun with the "Garci" tapes, folks back home must really figure out what to do or these self-appointed protectors will have a field day. It would be nice to have the silent majority come up with something.

Finding Intimacy

My biggest wish these days is that I could take my own advice. The future is not so bleak and and undefined as it once was, only the certainty that life will end someday is much more palpable. I no longer fear that I have no place in this world. I just fear that I will leave nothing behind. A textbook case for Erik Erikson on Generativity/Stagnation, I would surmise. Though maybe I should look into Intimacy/Isolation.

I am somewhat resigned that it is not my fate to rise to rapturous heights of romance - I hate to be a real party pooper, but such rapture is often an illusion or fleeting moments at best. It's not that I fear intimacy - but the pathways in my life, the things I have chosen to do, have kept me from being intimate with just that ONE PERSON with whom I can share the rest of my life. It's funny that it isn't as hard as it seems, but I have a suspicion my simple open-hearted ways lead some to suspect I have murky hidden agenda. WYSIWYG, and perhaps a surprise or two, with my package.

Twenty years ago I had lofty dreams to be a difference-maker. What I didn't know at that time was what it would cost to be that kind of person. I think it was Voltaire who said that the sum of the human condition will be largely unchanged even by historic events - there will always be the poor and deprived, and misery will be the lot of many people regardless of what we do to change that. I'd like to believe differently, but I can only do so much. Maybe I won't even be a footnote to history, but I'd like my life to have been instrumental in making others' lives happier.

It's tough when no one is there to listen. It's tough without someone who will lean upon me, whom I will hold around my arms and keep safe through the tough times, someone whose acceptance will make me more courageous in facing each day.

Until then, I live each day and give as much as I can, and even when my heart is shredded by the vicissitudes of life, so it must be. I won't make deals with my Maker, but I surely hope this will be enough for Him.

Soldiering On

Why does everything I see remind me of her?
Why do the sounds of life go by?
When my heart still shakes 'cause it's unsure
Why am I afraid to say goodbye?

Happiness is always a gamble
Loneliness forces you to soldier on
Never knowing the onset of desperation
Waking up when dreams are dead and gone.

Love is heavily overrated
Romance in a pill is more oh-so-convenient
Drowning yourself in alcoholic bliss
Sex with strangers is much more expedient.

Cynics really lie to themselves
Wearing a wolf’s clothing to hide a sheep’s heart
Masking a spirit that’s been hurt and broken
Not wanting to be alone, but still keeping apart.

So why despair of my memories of her?
I caress the keys dreaming of our first kiss
Holding on to my shell of inscrutability
When she doesn’t know that I exist.