EQ without IQ

(based on my journal entry dated September 3, 2012, a Monday)

I was reading this book “Lou-Lan Short Stories” by Yasushi Inoue and, as with most paperbacks, in the last pages of the book, there are ads for other books, either about Japan or by Japanese authors.

One such book describes Japan as “a learning society.” It was then that it hit me: If I applied this same description to the Philippines, would it hold water?

I thought about it a bit and I guess, yes, we are a “learning society”—albeit to a much lower degree. Now, why is that? I don’t know for sure. I mean, ours is NOT a boring life—there are lots of things going on all around us, things we experience and are exposed to as a people. In short, ours is life IN THE RAW! However, it seems we don’t learn from these things.

In the wake of calamities and tragic events, as a people, we tend to just romanticize about them (by dwelling on the resilience of the Filipino spirit), make fun of them (which is not exclusive to Filipinos, by the way), or simply leave everything to fate (“bahala na”) or even “blind” faith (by this, I mean faith that has little or no work to substantiate it).

It’s all cliché to me, and I’m thinking, if these clichés happen all the time and we can’t seem to do anything to keep them from happening again, given that, maybe—and just MAYBE—ours is not a learning society at all.

I sooo hope I’m wrong.

Or maybe do we learn, it’s just that we easily forget the lessons. Why? Maybe because we lack the maturity?

I read somewhere that babies are like that: they mind only things that they see. You hold up a toy to a baby, he recognizes it. But then, hide the toy away, and promptly, the baby seems to forget the toy exists (or even existed).

In a way, ang mga Pinoy parang ganun din—lalo na ‘yung mga illegal settlers na nakatirang nagsisiksikan sa tabi ng mga ilog at estero. Nakikita lang nila ang danger ng pagbabaha the moment na tumataas na ang tubig. Pero hangga’t walang baha, hindi nila nakikita o inaalintana kaya ang panganib na naka-amba sa buhay nila. Hmmm….

Sabi ni late Secretary Jesse Robredo, ang mga Pinoy daw, more EQ-oriented (as opposed to “IQ-oriented”). We mostly thrive on our emotions—sensitibo tayo sa emosyon natin at ng ating kapwa, at nagagamit natin ito para maisakatuparan ang kung anumang adhikain natin. Gaya na lang ng 1986 People Power. It was a battle won thriving on the people’s EQ.

Naisip ko, mas mahirap bang matuto ng bagong leksyon sa buhay ang mga taong mas EQ-oriented kesa IQ-oriented? E bakit naman ang mga bagyo at baha, gaya ng Ondoy I and II? Those were highly “experiential” and emotional events, and should have fired up our EQs to learn from our mistakes.

And maybe we ARE learning from our mistakes. Maybe we HAVE, judging from the affected communities’ preparedness and well-rehearsed response to flash floods during heavy rains.

Unfortunately, short-term solutions lang ang natutunan natin. Bakit kaya? Hindi kaya dahil HINDI SAPAT ang EQ lang para sa mga long-term solutions sa mga problema?

Sa nakikita ko kasi, dapat BALANSE ang IQ at EQ. Hindi ka puro emosyon lang. Dapat may konting esep-esep din.

Ang siste kasi, ang mga leaders natin, ang mga pulitiko natin, nakiki-EQ din sa masa. Imbes na i-utilize ang EQ-orientation ng mga tao para mapabuti ang bansa, ina-abuso nila ito para makakuha ng mga boto. Kapag panahon ng trahedya, namimigay nga sila ng tulong at relief goods (na galing din naman sa buwis ng taumbayan), pero nakabalandra naman ang mga pagmumukha nila sa bag ng relief goods nila: “Huwag nyo ako kalimutan ha, tinulungan ko kayo….”

Kapag panahon naman ng kampanya, kung anu-anong ka-kengkoyan ang pinaggagagawa para ma-stimulate ang emotional interest ng mga botante. Andung may pahalik-halik sa mga baby, kakain nang naka-kamay lang kasama ng masa, pakanta-kanta o pasayaw-sayaw sa entablado (kasama ng mga sikat na artista) para kiligin ang mga tao, etc. —mga bagay na hindi naman nila ordinaryong ginagawa kapag hindi panahon ng eleksyon.

Naisip ko lang: Hindi kaya ginagawa lang nila ito para manatiling bobo ang mga tao at madali nilang utuin? Na kaya ayaw nilang mag-offer ng long-term solutions sa mga problema ng bansa ay para manatiling nakasadlak sa putikan ang masa—iaabot lang nila ang kamay nila sa mga ito para tumulong (kuno) pero oras na mahalal ulit sila, sabay bawi rin sa mga kamay nila. (At sa ganitong paraan, nananatili sila sa puwesto at kapangyarihan, samantalang ang pobreng masa, andun pa rin sa putikan: nai-angat lang nang kaunti mula sa pagkakalublob, akala nila natulungan na sila ng trapo).

O hindi kaya….

Sadyang KULANG lang talaga sa IQ ang karamihan sa mga pulitiko natin? Kulang sa IQ na pang-complement sana sa EQ ng mga Pinoy…?

"IQ is what you do, EQ is how you do it...."

The Twists and Turns of Brilliant Minds

(based on an excerpt from my journal entry dated June 15, 2013, a Saturday)

I’ve been meaning to write something about Rizal for some time now. May mga nagsasabi kasi na obsolete na raw si Rizal sa buhay ng mga Pinoy. Ang dahilan nila? If I remember their arguments right, panahon pa raw kasi ng Spanish occupation ang kontexto ng mga sinulat ni Rizal at hindi na naman daw tayo sakop ng mga Kastila, etc.

Medyo na-disturb ako nang nalaman ko ‘yun. I mean, napaka-kaunti na nga lang ng mga Filipino personages sa lipunan at kasaysayan natin ang talagang deserving na maging role model, tapos gusto pa nilang bawasan. Bakit naman kaya? At ano naman kaya ang mapapala nila kung sakali?

Hmm…obsolete na nga ba si Rizal? I-rephrase natin: Relevant pa ba si Rizal sa buhay nating mga Pinoy ngayon? Sagot ko: Oo naman. Bakit? Hindi ko pa alam e. I mean, maaari akong makapagbigay ng sangkatutak na dahilan, pero those reasons would be inasmuch as I’m concern only. As in, “Yep, he’s still relevant as far as I’m concern; I don’t know about you.”

Now, if that is the context of my answer, then why is my answer an outright “yes”?

Because it’s IMPERATIVE. Kailangan kasi e. Malabo ba?

Case in point: Relevant pa ba si Shakespeare sa buhay ng mga Briton ngayon?  O ‘di kaya si Mark Twain sa kasalukuyang US of A? Huwag nyo naman sabihing mas relevant pa si Shakespeare sa mga Pinoy kesa kay Rizal. Or better yet, huwag nyo naman sabihing mas relevant pa si J.K. Rowling sa buhay ng mga Pinoy kesa kay Rizal.

“E kasi, si Rizal dead na. Si J.K. Rowling buhay pa….”

“Wow, nahiya naman ako sa ‘yo…o sige, eto na lang: Si Shakespeare super dead na, and yet the Brits (including J.K. Rowling, I assume) still find Shakespeare relevant in their lives. Ano ka ngayon?”

I mean, if there are Pinoys who give time and effort to make J.K. Rowling relevant in their lives, why can’t they do the same for Rizal? Yep, I know, “boring” ang Noli at El Fili, samantalang si Harry Potter exciting. But still, this does not justify dismissing Rizal as obsolete in our lives, does it? Ultimately, it all boils down to whether OUR APPROACH to Rizal is really up-to-date.

I mean, Rizal is already dead. He couldn’t care any less if we find him relevant or not. Pero tayong mga Pinoy na buhay pa—tayo ang mawawalan kapag patuloy nating ipinagkalat etong kahunghangan na ito.

Yes, “kahunghangan.” Uso kasi ngayon ang pagiging cynical (kuno) e. Pero sa nakikita ko, ‘yung dismissive attitude ng mga cynic, defense mechanism lang nila ‘yun. Para itago ang kakulangan nila ng perspektibo. Kaya ayun, ikinulong na nila ang sarili nila sa de-kahong utak. Ang nakakainis pa, ang iingay pa nila. Ipinagkakalat pa nila ang cynicism nila.

Sa totoo lang, wala pa akong nakikilalang “cynic” na itinaas ang kapakanan ng bansa sa pagiging cynical nila. Kung may itinaas man sila, iyon ay ang sarili nilang bangko—nagpapaka-cynic sila para lang masabing “enlightened” sila o matalino daw sila. Ewan.

But then this argument is ad hominem, which is not acceptable. So I’m pursuing the matter further. Just what was (or is) it about Rizal that we should not dismiss him as no longer relevant in our lives? I-paraphrase natin ang tanong sa konteksto ng mga Briton: Just what is it about Shakespeare that the Brits should find him still relevant in their lives?

Let’s see: Shakespeare represents high literature. You can appreciate Rowling and Dickens, but in the English language, Shakespeare is “the man.” His plays are infused with universal truths and timeless psychological insights; his words are poetry. Today, he is no longer just Britain’s national treasure, he belongs to all humanity, representing one of the greatest achievements that the human race can attain. If you’re a Brit and you want to dismiss that, somehow you dismiss your “soul.” Parte ‘yun ng kultura mo e, bakit mo ide-deny?

I guess I can use the same argument about Rizal. His novels may be about his time, but then there are insights in them—along with his poems, essays, etc.—that still speak to us as a people. His insights on love of country, freedom, education, dignity, etc. remain relevant to our situation as a nation. Why turn a blind eye to these things?

Now, there’s this Rizal essay (“The Philippines: A Century Hence”) that I believe deserves our attention. Kasi daw sa essay na ‘yun, nakinita daw niya ang pagsakop ng mga Amerikano sa Pilipinas. I read it just a few weeks ago and besides that, I was taken by Rizal’s lucid insight into the psyche of the oppressed and downtrodden. [I later found out that the essay was infused with ideas by a German intellectual (Jagor?) who was in the Philippines earlier, and whom Rizal became friends with in Germany.] I find the work fascinating because I am intrigued by the twists and turns of their (Rizal’s and Jagor’s) brilliant minds, enabling them to come up with their “prophetic” conclusion. Just how did they do that?

I am reminded of Nobel laureate John Nash (film bio: “A Beautiful Mind”), whose game theory serves humanity today as the better alternative to Adam Smith’s dictum. Nash’s Equilibrium theory basically points to how “players” (or parties) in a “game” (or negotiation) can ALL come out as “winners”—no “losers.” Using John Nash's theory, maaaring magkakalaban tayo sa isang laro, pero sa huli, wala ni isa sa atin ang magiging “loser.” Lahat tayo “winners.” Gets?

Posible ba ‘yun? Oo naman. John Nash was able to put the needed mathematical equations to support his theory, and na-demonstrate naman na effective ang theory niya. Kaya nga siya nanalo ng Nobel Prize for Economics e.

Now, about 2000 years ago, Jesus demonstrated just that. A woman caught committing adultery was brought before him by the Pharisees and Teachers of the Law. These “powers-that-be” wanted to trap Jesus, and so they said to him: “We caught this woman committing adultery. According to our law, she should be stoned to death. What say you?”

What Jesus did next is what I find most intriguing. According to the Gospel, Jesus did not answer immediately. Instead, he bent down and started writing on the ground with his finger. Now, JUST WHAT WAS IT THAT HE WAS WRITING ON THE GROUND? Some syllogistic diagram? A mathematical equation? And then he answered them: “Whoever among you who has not sinned may cast the first stone at her.”

Wow! What an answer! I mean, with that answer, both parties emerged “winners”: the powers-that-be won the argument (“Yes, you may stone her to death….”), yet the accused woman also won because her life was spared—since the powers-that-be could not bear the hypocrisy of their judgment. How brilliant was that? It’s like John Nash’s game theory put to work to settle a moral argument.

Rizal, Shakespeare, John Nash, Jesus—all brilliant minds. I shudder to think that one day, it would be so easy for us to dismiss them as “no longer relevant” or even “obsolete” simply because we lack the perspective to connect with them and their brilliance.

GOVERNING DYNAMICS

“If we all go for the blonde, we block each other. Not a single one of us is gonna get her. So then we go for her friends. But they will all give us the cold shoulder because nobody likes to be second choice. But what if no one goes for the blonde? We don’t get in each other’s way, and we don’t insult the other girls. That’s the only way to win. That’s the only way we all get laid.”

Gangnam Matata

(my journal entry dated December 12, 2012, a Wednesday)

Makulimlim ang panahon ngayon. A most welcome change, kasi ilang araw na rin kasi na matindi ang sikat ng araw, naturingang December pero hindi naman malamig.

Kagabi, ginulat ako ni Myrna (pinsan ko sa States). Kasi, bigla siya nag-message sa Facebook. She asked—jokingly, I think—kung handa na daw ba kami sa December 21, 2012. Wala lang. Natawa lang ako. Sabi ko, kung patay, e ‘di patay.

May binigay siya na link sa isang website. E hindi naman gumana ‘yung link. So, sabi na lang niya, i-search ko daw: “Nostradamus, Gangnam.”

I thought at first it was a joke. Pero mukhang seryoso ‘yung gumawa ng video. As in! Base daw sa isang prophesy ni Nostradamus tungkol sa siyam na circles at meron pang kabayo (was it “dancing horse” or “prancing horse”?). Sabi, kapag naka-1 billion hits na daw ‘yung “Gangnam Style” video ni Psy sa Youtube, the number would be nine zeroes corresponding to the “nine circles” in the prophesy. Tapos kasi, ‘yung sayaw ng Gangnam Style, parang nangangabayo pa. Ewan.

Natatawang naiinis ako. Hindi kasi ako fan ng Gangnam Style, and so far, utang-uta na ako sa kantang ‘yon. Parang “Nobody Like You” (tama ba title?) ng Wonder Girls ng nakaraang taon. Gusto kong ilibing sarili ko nang buhay sa tuwing naririnig ko ‘yun. Ewan.

Sa tingin ko, umaraw na ulit sa labas. Naalala ko, weeks ago, may napanood akong pelikula (comedy) with Anna Farris in it. Sabi ng character niya doon sa movie, a lot of sun daw tends to make people dumb—or something to that effect. Is that true?

Come to think of it, I think it makes people more “living in the present.” Not trying to escape. Enjoying instead all that is around, unmindful of worries. Hakuna Matata. Of course, living in the here and now does not necessarily mean that one is dumb. However, it does account for one’s lack of introspection.

Unlike in cold-climate countries. Sa tropics, we don’t worry much about temperature. Kapag nainitan, konting paypay lang, okay na. In cold countries, they shiver. They worry about keeping warm. Tayo, there are times we don’t even mind sweating much, especially when we’re having fun.

I guess people in cold countries tend to be more introspective. Now why is that? Maybe it’s because of the long winter season and people tend to stay indoors. And in their heads, they couldn’t help but try to “escape” the cold—with their imagination, thinking up ideas, reading, etc.

Dito kasi sa ‘Pinas, ang break lang, tuwing may bagyo. At ‘yung bagyo, isa–dalawang araw lang on average. Not much time to be introspective? Kung sakali mang may maisip na idea, the typhoons don’t last long enough to keep people indoors to pursue and finish up their ideas. Pagkatapos ng bagyo, people are back outside again. Living in the “here and now” again, coping with and simply reacting to the flooded streets and broken down houses and buildings.

Kahit nga Holy Week dito, hindi na rin ganoon ka-introspective ang mga tao. Bakasyon. Punta sa beach. O ‘di kaya, cable TV or DVD marathon. People are so in the here and now that they leave the introspecting to other people. Most are just ready to be spoon-fed the news and analyses—on TV, radio, or whatever. Kung ano ang pinag-uusapan sa TV, ‘yun na lang din ang pinag-uusapan nila. And they tend to believe anything, swallow anything—hook, line and sinker.

Like Psy’s Gangnam Style, for example. Or Psy being a horseman of the Apocalypse or something.

The Tokens: "The Lion Sleeps Tonight"

Nevermore!

(my journal entry dated July 1, 2012, a Sunday)

It took me hours before I finally set pen to paper here. I don’t know why I have this obsession that I should have something “worthwhile” to say (or write) here. Yet, here I am, writing anyway.

I’m guessing that’s the reason why ideas tend to get away from me. I’m such a perfectionist, with a lack of drive to pursue to completion the ideas given to me. The sad part about it is that I tend to take things for granted that I often fail to commit those ideas to memory for later retrieval.

Like last night, there was this idea that came to me which I had thought about writing here. But this morning when I woke up, I’ve forgotten what the idea was about, and yep, that’s the main reason why I was not in a hurry to write here. Geez! I should have written it down in that little notebook I keep around me, but no! I just had to trust that I’d remember the idea anyway and get to write it here. Well, serves me right. Now, the idea has gone away, blown off by the wind, now winging on to the open fields of someone else’s waiting mind.

What I find very disturbing about this is that…well, it’s disturbing. An idea that’s gotten away should leave your mind “empty” of it, right? Yet, it just bothers me. It’s like you made reservations for people to attend a party, and they don’t make it, and their absence is just disturbing, to say the least.

It’s the same thing with ideas that get away, I guess. Since they got away—meaning, they’re no longer in your head—that should drive them “out of your mind,” right? But no! They’re still there—whatever they are.  Oh, brain, how I love you and I hate you at the same time!

But then, perhaps, ideas never really get away. They’re still in your head, lost in some labyrinthian trap, still trying to make their way to that area where the senses can make them out into a more recognizable form. Or maybe indeed they are out there, up in the air, up in the heavens, and between us and them, all there is is a tie that is just the inkling of their temporary occupation in our heads.

It’s funny that they’re just like birds that way. They perch awhile on a tree branch that is our brain, and when they fly away, they leave behind bird droppings that serve as their remembrance of having perched there, of having existed in our heads.

But no, dear little birds. You shall not get the better of me. I won’t give up half my kingdom for you. I have plenty of other things to think about. Your distraction is but a trivial nuisance to me. I’ll be good natured about this. Au revoir, little ones! Safe journey then. [Bitter.]

The Five Senses

(my journal entry dated August 23, 2012, a Thursday)

I finally got to dispose of the large tree branch that I cut off from the Neem tree in our backyard. It took me three days to pull off the entire thing—from cutting the massive branch, chopping it up, and then disposing it. After that, I now have a stack of firewood piled up in the front yard. I wonder what I’m going to use it for.

I was thinking of cooking bulalo or halayang ube. Or goto. I was thinking of business yesterday while chopping off the smaller branches and piling up the wood. Perhaps I should open up an eatery or something.

I get uncomfortable with that word: “eatery.” It’s like it was coined by a non-native speaker of English (a Pinoy in this case) and now seeped into popular use. I’ve so long wanted to look it up in the dictionary or the internet but I keep forgetting.

Right now, in the kitchen, Ate Gina is cooking our lunch. Tatay requested for nilagang talong (boiled eggplant) with bagoong as dip; I asked for tortang patatas (potato omelet)—hmmm….ang sarap!

When I was in college (taking up Physical Therapy at La Salle-Dasma), there was this house that my classmates rented and we used to hang out there during breaks. We ate together for lunch, but one time, I fancied tortang patatas and so I cooked it, and it was surprising because some of my classmates didn’t even know what it was.

One of my classmates who grew up in the U.S. saw me “messing up” the omelet (as I don’t know how to “perfectly” cook eggs) and called the dish “pathetic eggs.” He was joking, of course. But when we were already eating, he just couldn’t get enough of it, and he once said, “Could you please pass those ‘pathetic eggs’?” Hah!

It’s such a simple dish, really. You just fry shoe-string-cut potatoes (or if you want, french-fries-cut potatoes) and then add the scrambled eggs (with salt and pepper to taste). Yummy!

Ate Gina is already done with the cooking. She said we can eat now. I said, “yes,” but, man, I still have to finish this up.

I can smell the torta beckoning to me, like in those old cartoons where the smell of a delicious meal takes the form of smoke shaped like a human hand, seducing and then lifting up the craving cartoon character by the nose. Hmmm….that’s just like what that critic said about a Rembrandt portrait—the paint was applied so thick, one could lift up the entire painting by its nose. That’s a nice incident. From food to painting. The senses.

I once did a painting about it (the five senses) for a painting competition. The theme of the contest was “Natural ang ganda ng Pilipinas” (literally, “the beauty of the Philippines is natural”). So I painted a Filipino home scene, where the mother is cooking bañgus (milkfish) stuffed with chopped onions and tomatoes, and an assortment of tropical fruits to represent the sense of taste. There was also a small sharp knife on the table and a sepak takraw ball which a young boy (the son) toys with, representing the sense of touch.

Behind them, there was a guitar hanging on one corner of the wall (sense of hearing); a mirror showing a man—the father coming in the house from work—through the reflected front door (sense of sight); and at the center, a big window letting in the breeze and a picturesque view of the Manila Bay sunset (senses of smell and of sight).

Yep! The five senses.

It didn’t win. :)

Detail from "The Five Senses" (by yours truly)

Sting and his father

(June 13 is my mother’s birthday. The feast day of St. Anthony. That’s why she’s “Antonita.” But since it’s Fathers’ Day, this “writeup” is about fathers. It could be about my father (whom I don’t get along with sometimes) or your father, or just about anyone whom we didn’t get along with and they died without us having expressed our love for them. I’m thinking if one day, years from now, after Tatay had passed on, I would be following the same line of thought as Sting did in this song. I think I would. I write this because Nanay would have liked me to write this, even if it’s her birthday.)

In 1989, Sting’s father died. Suffice it to say that Sting (Gordon Summers) and his father had a difficult relationship. In the song “Why Should I Cry for You?” Sting was questioning the conventions of showing love for someone. I heard somewhere that he did not attend his father’s funeral. Big rock star that he was then (and still is, in my opinion), he did not want to turn his father’s funeral into some kind of circus/carnival for the press, fans, etc. Had he been at the funeral and cried over his father, would that have sufficed as evidence of his love?

However, despite his seeming indifference, his father’s death was a terrible blow to him which took him years to come to terms with. And then in 1999, he released the album “Brand New Day,” which included the song “Ghost Story.” It begins at dusk:

I watch the western sky
The sun is sinking
The geese are flying south
It sets me thinking....

With the approaching night, Sting is haunted once again by the memory of his father.

I did not miss you much
I did not suffer
What did not kill me
Just made me tougher....

Despite this “obliviousness” to his father’s death, there was something about the winter landscape that was urging him to go to “trial” again—re-examine his feelings for his father.

I feel the winter come
His icy sinews
Now in the firelight
The case continues

Another night in court
The same old trial
The same old questions asked
The same denial....

He stays awake the whole night through, keeping himself warm by the fire, staring at it for answers, while all around him, the dark of the night awaits his defense.

The shadows closing 'round
Like jury members
I look for answers in
The fire's embers

Why was I missing then
That whole December?
I give my usual line:
I don't remember....

Was it a December when his father died? Or was he referring to that December of the year before his father died, which should have served as their last chance to be together for Christmas? In any case, Sting did not make it to be with his father that December. He assumed that with his busy schedule, not making it to the occasion was understandable; whatever he was busy with at the time was not worth mentioning: “I don’t remember….” But now, another December has come and haunts him with that memory:

Another winter comes
His icy fingers creep
Into these bones of mine
These memories never sleep....

And then he realizes that all those years, he had been making up all those excuses (a “cloak” which he wrapped himself in) so as not to be with his father.

And all these differences
A cloak I borrow....

Yet, despite their differences, despite the distance between them, Sting concludes nonetheless that he must have loved his father all the same:

We kept our distances
Why should it follow
I must have loved you?

Sting questions the gap in logic, though. “We hated each other, but how come I am now realizing I must have loved him?” The answer is a mystery, which Sting nevertheless provides: It is that force that renders all his resistance futile, his excuses lame, and his denials mere delusions; the most powerful, most mysterious force of them all: Love.

What is a force that binds the stars?
I wore this mask to hide my scars
What is the power that moves the tide?
Never could find a place to hide

What moves the earth around the sun?
What could I do but run and run and run?
Afraid to love, afraid to fail
A mast without a sail....

Dawn comes. Another “dark night of the soul” has passed. But this time, Sting has reached a resolution. He finally accepts his “defeat” by admitting that, while masquerading in indifference, everything he did and accomplished was for his father’s approval:

The moon's a fingernail
And slowly sinking
Another day begins
And now I'm thinking

That this indifference
Was my invention
When everything I did
Sought your attention....

He finally acknowledges that all this time, his father had always been his guide, idol, and hitherto an undiscovered source of enrichment.

You were my compass star
You were my measure
You were a pirate's map
Of buried treasure....

Sting ends the song with a recap of his conclusion, amid a bevy of folk instruments and strings on a steady rhythm.

If this was all correct
The last thing I'd expect
The prosecution rests
It's time that I confessed
I must have loved you
I must have loved you.

Sting titled the song "Ghost Story" because he thought ghosts are like that: "They haunt you until you acknowledge them."

I dedicate this song and this writeup to my father. I'm a Momma's boy, but at this early I'd like this to serve as a testimony of my love for him despite our differences. Happy Fathers' Day, everyone!

“Ghost Story” (Sting)

Aburido II

(my journal entry dated December 9, 2012, a Sunday)

Kahapon, December 8, death anniversary ni Nanay. Nagsindi lang ako ng kandila. Ni hindi kami naghanda ng kahit ano. Ni pansit, wala. Walang pera. Tipid muna. ‘Di pa kasi nagbabayad ‘yung dalawang rumerenta sa amin—si Aling Hermie tsaka itong internet shop sa harap.

Itong internet shop, 15 days nang delay ang bayad bukas. Nakakainis. Hindi man lang kami inabisuhan. Nabwiset pa ako ngayong araw na ito kasi nakita ko ‘yung aso, si Akira. Payat at kamot nang kamot. Ilang linggo ko nang tinatanggalan ng garapata pero hindi mawala lahat.

Ilang beses ko nang sinasabi kay Manuel na paliguan niya. Tutal aso n’ya naman ‘yun. E wala. Napagsawaan n’ya na. Noong tuta pa ‘yon, alagang-alaga niya. Ngayon, wala na.

Sa asar ko, sinumbong ko siya sa Nanay niya (ate ko), na dapat paliguan niya ‘yung aso. Ayun, pinaliguan naman. Akala ko gagarapatahan. ‘Yun pala, ako pa rin gagawa nun. Dagdag errand sa akin.

Nang ginagarapatahan ko na, grabe, andaming garapata. Mga baby garapata pa ‘yung iba kaya pahirapan alisin. Anlikot pa ng aso. Natapon n’ya ‘yung lalagyan ng gas. Tapos, andami pang langgam dun sa pwesto namin sa may gate.

Sa sobrang inis ko, naitulak ko ‘yung aso. Tapos, nabatak ko pa ‘yung leash niya, nasakal siya saglit. Na-guilty naman ako. Lalo tuloy ako nainis.

Nagpunta ako ng banyo para maghugas ng kamay at palipasin ang inis ko. Sa sobrang asar ko, nagmo-monologue ako dun. Kunwari, kausap ko sila Ate at mga anak niya. Kunwari inaaway ko sila. Pati si Tatay, kunwari inaaway ko rin.

Buti na lang walang camera sa banyo namin. Maa-“amalayer” ako nang ako lang mag-isa. Comedy talaga ‘yun kung sakali.

Pero ‘di pa rin nawala inis ko. Lumabas ako ulit. Kinuha ko ‘yung bote ng gas. Binuhus-buhusan ko ‘yung bahay ng mga langgam (na pula). Angkulit kasi ng mga ‘yun. Ilang beses ko nang binuhusan ng tubig, ayaw pa rin umalis—mag-relocate ba. Tapos, balik ako sa banyo, naligo ako.

Alas-onse nang umaga, naligo ako. Usually kasi, gabi ako naliligo. Sabi ko, dapat umalis muna ako. Manood kaya ako ng sine? Ewan. May trabaho pa akong dapat gawin e. ‘Yung coffee table book. Pero asar pa rin ako.

Nagsulat ako dito. Sa tingin ko, medyo nabawasan ang asar ko. Natatawa kasi ako habang nagsusulat dito. Akalain mo ‘yun? Kanina, asar na asar ako. Pero ngayon na nai-imagine ko ang mga pinaggagagawa ko kaninang asar ako, parang nakakatawa nga ako.

Ewan ko ba. Kahit pinaka-extreme na emotion yata, whether takot, galit, o lungkot, kapag candidly na-process ng utak, ang ending nakakatawa.

I feel pretty (Adam Sandler, Jack Nicholson)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LZ35Ar3r2k

Batibot

(excerpt from my blog entry dated July 19, 2012, a Thursday)

I woke up this morning to Tatay’s rather loud calling of Tina’s name. He was somewhere near the kitchen. I thought he was in the bathroom and needed someone to wash him and take care of his business with the bowl early this morning.

As I just woke up, I didn’t feel like getting up already and attending to him. Besides, he was calling Tina’s name. But then I thought I didn’t want him to keep on shouting like that because he’s been down with the cold these past few days and I didn’t want him to strain himself.

And so, as much as I didn’t want to get wet this cold morning, I got up anyway and went out, and it turned out he was in the kitchen and just needed someone to give him his dose of cough syrup. I gave him his meds and was thinking of going back to sleep, but then, what for? I might as well start the day anyway.

Let’s see. I slept around 3 a.m. last night, and woke up at 8 a.m. Five hours of sleep. That’s okay already, I guess. I had my customary four glasses of drinking water and am now writing here with a song in my mind playing over and over again since I woke up. “Sino ang Pilipino?” from Batibot.

I was fortunate to find a video of it on Youtube and I downloaded it. I’ve always liked that song and even sing along to it, never mind that I was already in college when I first heard it. Pambata kasi ‘yung kanta.

Right now, I’m thinking about that idea that came to me a few months ago, which is about coming up with a cable channel dedicated solely to Filipino kids. All the shows will be in Filipino: cartoons dubbed in Filipino, educational shows in Filipino, etc.

Kawawa naman kasi ang mga batang Pinoy ngayon. Puro foreign influences. ‘Di gaano ang memories nila tinged with Filipino life and culture. Kami noon, kahit paano, may Batibot. E ang mga bata ngayon, kundi babad sa computer games, babad naman sa Disney Channel at Cartoon network.

Bihira pa sila lumabas ng bahay. Baka daw kasi madapa o magalusan. Samantalang kami noon, nangongolekta ng bakokang at tibatib. Ahehe. ‘Tong mga nanay na ‘to.

But then, I’m thinking of catering not just to the more affluent kids. Nakakaawa kasi lalo na ‘yung mga bata na salat na nga sa buhay, wala pang redeeming values na napapanood sa TV ayon sa kultura at buhay nila bilang batang Pinoy.

Filipino children need reinforcement from their own life and environment. They need to be exposed to concepts that make them better people. They need learning that would make them self-learners, not just colonial copycats or clones. Most importantly, I think they need a sense of the self, with dignity and nobility of spirit. That’s one project that I’d really, really like to realize soon.

Click on the link for the "Sino ang Pilipino?" Youtube video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKRhnhwWQxc

the art of concealing art

(excerpt from my journal entry dated June 14, 2012, a Thursday)

I’ve been meaning to write about acquiring a confident hand. The concept or idea of it came to me a long long time ago, and I didn’t know how to go about it then. But when I vacationed in Davao and, as a way of pakikisama, helped out Mommy Marlene (Marj’s mom) in kitchen work (i.e. slicing up vegetables and prepping other ingredients), that’s when the idea became clearer to me.

You see, while there, I had learned to chop and cut vegetables alla Chef Boy Logro (albeit not even half as fast as the good chef) by emulating Mommy Marlene’s way of doing it. You place your left hand on the vegetable in a certain way while your right hand handles the knife, making it go through a systematic motion of slicing up the vegetable. If you’re left-handed, you just re-assign the two tasks to the…err…whichever hand is up to the task. (Not that I think my readers are dumb—I just don’t want to be biased against left-handed people.)

Anyway, by following this system, I noticed that my cutting “prowess” grew faster by 70 percent. Not that I had a measuring device to gauge the difference. I just thought I had to assign a figure to be more clear about what I’m talking about—although, of course, that would probably confuse you further since you don’t have the slightest clue as to how slow I was to begin with.

The fun part about this is that I even tried my new-found knife skills with my eyes closed and—lo and behold!—I did it. You can just imagine how wonderfully pleasurable this has caused me. It’s like riding your bike without holding on to the manibela:  “Look, ma, no hands!” Except I didn’t lose my hands.

It’s like you can perform in a circus already. It’s like…oh enough of this “it’s like”! In short, I gained a confident hand. Or hands, if you like. That’s what I’ve been meaning to talk about.

There are skills in life that you acquire and they become so much part of your system, it becomes remarkably uncanny whenever you put them to use.

Like me giving Tatay a bath, for example. I’ve been doing the routine everyday for years already, it seems Tatay and I can go through the routine with our eyes closed already. Whoa! That’s pushing it too far.

But why bother about gaining a confident hand?

I do so, because I’ve always been interested in the concept of “the art of concealing art.” Gets? The art of the true masters: they have so mastered the art, not the slightest effort to be artsy can be gleaned. Hindi trying hard.

I think having the confidence is the first step to the art of concealing art. Oh, okay. So maybe, it’s the SECOND step. The first step is, of course, acquiring the knowledge/skills to do the task. Knowing the steps thereof. Like musicians gaining basic knowledge of the finger work that produces the sounds from their instruments. Or like chefs who have familiarized themselves with different types of knives for different cutting purposes.

You bring them to the kitchen, the true masters are like ninjas brandishing about their swords with stealth efforts. Ninjas, by the way, don’t chop up vegetables with shuriken. I don’t know why I even wrote that, it just came to mind.

You see, it would really help also if, besides a confident hand, the right tools are also used. Really sharp trusty knives for master chefs. Really great-sounding guitars with excellent workmanship for “feel” and handling for guitar godz. Even the greatest masters would suffer the quality of the desired results if the appropriate tools (in the right condition) are not used.

Next step would be lots of practice. Practice nang practice para ma-reinforce ‘yung confidence na na-acquire mo, hanggang sa maging parte ito ng sistema mo.

Parang ‘yung self-portrait ni Rembrandt. May hawak siyang brushes, maulstick and a palette, but it’s not clear in the painting where his hands end and where his tools begin. In the painting, the tools have become part of his limbs!

Or ‘yung acting ni Jim Carrey sa “Man on the Moon”; ni Meryl Streep sa “The Iron Lady”; or ni Marion Cotillard sa “La Vie en Rose.” Critics say they weren’t actors acting; they were actually possessed! The artistry has been so well concealed because THE ARTIST AND HIS ART HAVE BECOME ONE.

Sa writing yata, ganun din: when readers don’t remember you—the author—but have come to relish instead the experience of the work you have written. “Invisible writing” ‘ata ang tawag dun. Dapat maging invisible ka, makalimutan ka bilang author. Instead, ‘yung writing mo ang dapat maalala ng mga readers mo—HINDI IKAW!

Wow. I’ve got a long way to go. Parang na-frustrate ako bigla sa realization na ‘yun a. Anyway, tsaka na lang ako magsi-sintir dito. Waste of space.

So, what’s the next step after a confident hand becomes a master of his craft? I think it would be expanding your horizons. Not necessarily breaking the rules.

Learn some more. Learn how other masters see it and do it. Fuse what you know with the techniques and methods that other masters employ. Huwag lang basta sumunod sa uso o makipagsabayan sa uso. Naging master ka na nga ng craft mo, tapos magpapadikta ka pa sa formula ng mainstream.

Lastly, for lack of an ender, happy birthday, everyone!

Jim Carrey as the Environmental Guy

MY rules for productivity

(based on my journal entries dated December 

I’m writing this in retrospect. This is based on a couple of journal entries that I wrote when I was so dissatisfied with my productivity that I took the time out to analyze my day-to-day activities, and this is what I came up with.

My day-to-day activities fall under two MAIN categories: (1) things I do for myself, and (2) things I do for others. But then, these categories are somewhat too simplistic. So, I re-classified them further, and I came up with five categories (the fifth one I shall not discuss here as it is, at any cost, NOT an option).

‘Yung apat na categories na lang bale ang idi-discuss ko. They are: chores, errands, markers and diversions.

CHORES

Chores are things we do everyday in fulfillment of who we are and what we are for our families.

They’re basic: you don’t do them, they get back at you. Like eating and sleeping. Or taking a bath. Or brushing your teeth. You don’t do those things, you fall sick.

I should know, it’s happened to me a couple of times already. I mean, I didn’t take a bath for two days, and on the third day, parang lalagnatin na ako. I wonder how people living on the streets could take it.

It’s the same thing with brushing the teeth. I didn’t brush for two days, and the night of the second day, ‘yung mga ngipin at bagang ko naman ang parang lalagnatin, what with those bacteria feasting on my tinga, building colonies, and electing their barangay officials in my mouth. Yep, the heat was on.

But chores are not just limited to personal hygiene. Like I said, chores are things we do in definition of who we are to our families. In my case, as a son to my father, taking care of my aging father is a chore. It’s the same thing if you’re a husband or a wife or an older brother or sister or what. You abandon these “chores,” somehow you lessen your role in the family.

Of course, there are some who are so itching to be independent and live all by themselves that they think it’s okay to be away from their families. But then, the ties remain. You still have chores to do to keep the ties intact.

Sure, you can have a maid come in and do some of the chores. But of course, you realize the essential part of being that person in the family is somewhat compromised.

ERRANDS

Errands are basically things we do for someone else.

Your job is a chore. Your business (if you’re self-employed, that is) is also a chore.

With errands, you CAN choose to get paid. Somehow, merong blur.

Pag nagpatulong ba sa ‘yo para sa school project nila ang bunso mong kapatid, chore ba ‘yun o errand? Depende. Pag siningilan mo siya ng bayad, then errand na ‘yun. ‘Yun nga lang, anong klaseng kapatid ka naman nun, right?

So, it’s really all a matter of perspective. In my case, my sister asks me to do something for her, minsan naniningil ako, madalas hindi. Depende sa bigat ng trabaho; depende rin kung dumadalas na yung masyadong reliance sa ‘yo.

May mga tao kasi na hindi marunong magpahalaga sa relationship. Pagbigyan mo minsan, gagawing madalas ang pagpapatulong sa ‘yo. Gagawin kang doormat. Hindi naman tama ‘yun. Kung may chores kang dapat gawin para sa kanila, may chores din naman silang dapat gawin para sa ‘yo.

But this is not just for the sake of being “ma-kwenta.” I’d gladly do chores for people for a noble cause, for example. Or people in dire straits. Huwag lang aabuso. Ang habol ko dito: matuto kaming lahat sa tamang pakikipag-kapwa. ‘Yun lang yun.

MARKERS

Eto ‘yung mga ginagawa mo para sa sarili mo. Or para sa ego mo? Pakialam ko ba sa mga id at ego na ‘yan.

Markers are things we do in fulfillment of our being. Mga bagay na ginagawa natin para i-assert ang kabuluhan natin sa mundo. Parang ‘yung Mona Lisa at Last Supper ni Leonardo da Vinci. Or yung E=mc² at Theory of Relativitiy ni Einstein. Mga bagay na nag-a-assert na special ang buhay natin, na hindi tayo aksidente lang, na tayo ay narito ngayon kasi mayroon tayong special na purpose sa mundo.

Syempre, there are people who take it differently. Si Adolf Hitler, halimbawa. Or yung mga religious fanatics na nag-iisip na ‘di bale nang magpakamatay, basta maisakatuparan lang ang misyon nila sa buhay. Talaga naman…tsk tsk tsk.

Right now, I’m thinking: ang mga markers ba, trip-trip lang? As in, kunwari trip mong maging sikat, so gumawa ka ng video na parang tanga lang, tapos in-upload mo sa Youtube? Hahaha. Wala lang.

Depende ata ang markers mo sa kung anong naiisip mong kaya mong gawin sa buhay. Dati kasi, hindi ako marunong magsulat, pero dahil andun yung interes at drive ko, natuto rin ako. Pero ngayong marunong na ako magsulat (kahit paano), iniisip ko naman ngayon: para saan naman kaya itong pagsusulat ko? Para pagkakitaan?

Kung para sa pagkita lang pala ng pera ang pagsusulat ko, e wala palang special sa pagsusulat ko—kasi halos wala rin akong ipinagkaiba sa mga milyon-milyong empleyado sa buong mundo na pumapasok sa trabaho para kumita lang ng pera. Besides, magiging “errands” lang ang pagsusulat ko.

Not that I’m undermining people who work here. From the way I see things, I am actually undermining myself: Nakakahiya ka, Mok, kasi binigyan ka ng special gift, and yet nagpapaka-“regular” ka lang.

DIVERSIONS

Eto yung mga sinasabi ng mga matatanda sa probinsya kapag pinagsasabihan sila ng mga anak nila ng, “Inang naman, bakit naman nagbabad na naman kayo sa Bingo?” “Anak naman, dibersyon lang naman ‘yun….” O di kaya, “Tatay, iinom na naman kayo?” “Dibersyon lang ‘to, anak. Minsan lang naman….”

Diversions are important. Basically, they are “the much-needed break” we need to get our minds off the day-to-day preoccupations that wear our minds out. For example, si Archimedes, isang Greek philosopher/mathematician. Binigyan siya ng challenge: alamin daw niya kung gaano kadami ang alloy na kasama ng ginto sa korona ng Hari ng Syracuse.

Syempre, tipikal sa mga scientists ang grabeng konsentrasyon nila. Sa sobrang focus niya, si Archimedes, nakalimutan niyang kumain, maligo, etc. Sabi ng asawa niya, “Ambaho mo na; maligo ka kaya?”

‘Yung pagligo bale ang naging diversion ni Archimedes. Nang isinawsaw na niya yung paa niya sa bathtub na puno ng tubig, napansin niya na tumaas ang lebel ng tubig pagkalublob ng paa niya. Ayun, nadisubre niya ang prinsipyo ng volume displacement, at napasigaw siya ng “Eureka! (I have found [it])!”

Sa diversion kasi nangyayari yung pagre-relax ng utak natin. Nakakapagkunekta ang mga neurons natin ng bagong kuneksyon, enabling us to think “outside of the box.”

Ang problema, andaming Pinoy na puro dibersyon lang ang ginagawa sa araw-araw. Nakababad sa computer, naglalaro ng DOTA maghapon at magdamag. Nakababad sa sugalan at inuman. Nakatuon lagi ang isip sa chismis at pakikipag-date, Facebook at Twitter. Talaga naman….

RULES

Iniisip ko, kapag namatay na tayo at binigyan tayo ng pagkakataon na lingunin ang naging buhay natin, gaano kaya ka-kumportableng sabihin: “Ang buhay ko ay ISANG MALAKING DIBERSYON.” Ahehe. O di kaya, “Naging ISANGMALAKING ERRAND lang pala ang buhay ko….” Etc.

Nota bene: The four categories I enumerated here are NOT clear-cut definitions. Often, they meld into each other.

Pwede kasi na ‘yung trabaho mo pala (“errand”) ay nagpo-provide din pala sa ‘yo ng avenue para magamit mo ang special talent mo sa pagtulong mo sa kapwa (“marker”). Or yung pagbababad mo pala sa Facebook (“diversion”) ay para makatulong sa pagpo-promote mo ng negosyo mo (“errand”) o di kaya, para regular mong makausap ang mga mahal mo sa buhay na nasa ibang bansa (“chore”), or better yet, ginagamit mo para sa advocacies mo bilang isang internet activist (“marker”).

Nagkakatalo ‘yan sa mismong perspective mo, or kung ano ba talaga ng sitwasyon mo ngayon sa buhay.

Sa kaso ko, dahil ako ay part-time bum at part-time self-employed, kailangan kong bantayan yang mga categories na ‘yan para maging productive ako.

Here’s the fun part.

After classifying your day-to-day activities into the said categories, you now make up your OWN rules about it. Sa sitwasyon ko, anlaki ng temptation na malulong ako sa dibersyon: nood ng TV, kain ng chichirya, etc., to the point na nakakalimutan ko na ang mga dapat kong gawin. So, here are the basic three of MY rules:

(1)    All CHORES and ERRANDS should follow a definite schedule;
(2)    Because I have plenty of time in my hands left after chores and errands, I MUST take the time to work on my MARKERS: writing, painting, etc.;
(3)    DIVERSIONs are my reward to myself. I will engage in DIVERSIONS only if a substantial amount of ERRANDS or MARKERS have been accomplished.

Yeah, right. Ahehe.

I do break the rules from time to time. But then, after a week has passed, I look back on the things I’ve accomplished so far and I’m quite content. At least, masasabi ko na isang linggo man ang dumaan, naging productive naman ako. Na hindi ako basta nilipasan lang ng mga araw, na meron akong naging accomplishment kahit paano.

Now that I've written this ("marker"), I suppose it's time to pamper myself with a little "diversion"…. Yehehehey!