Just a Thought

Would you rather see me with another one, pretending that I am happy and complete, than let me stay with you, where I am most with myself but remain to be eternally clueless?

Sensible, Meaningful Conversation

It really makes you feel good when you would chance upon a conversation with people who are not only close to you but talk with utmost sensibilty.

But what is sensibility? Is it not a thing too subjective, perceived only in the mind of the perceiver? What I find sensible may not be sensible to other people. What they find sensible may not appear as such to me. To define talking sensibly by saying having a kind of conversation that is neither nonsensical nor unpretentious, would defy a basic law in definition. Do not define something by stating what it is not.

I really find it intruiging what makes a conversation sensible? Last friday, I met up with my good pals Lillen and Shiela at Figaro SM North. They were my high school buddies whom I haven't seen for the longest time. Then last saturday, I made it a point to meet Joyce at Starbuck Intramuros, my coffee buddy during college. So there, at two different occasions, I engaged into a kind of conversation I have long missed. And it was good to find out that they felt the same way.

On those two consecutive nights I have gone through different worlds. I have penetrated their personal lives, in the same way that they peeked on mine. We technically shared all our dreams, hopes and anxieties, accepting each statement without the liability of questions or criticisms. We have reached the shores of politics and philosophy in our quest to understand our circumstances, our worlds, which have basically evolved even though we were apart. We have glided along the cliff of our past, dug into the people who have influenced the way we think and mulled over those who have tried to destroy us. Those two nights were separate journeys that transcended the power and ability of the mind because it is the heart which spoke, and it did so with so much conviction and empathy.

This to me is an example of a sensible conversation. To say, however, that what other people may be talking about virtually anywhere: in corridors, in public transportations, in cafes most especially, on topics of their own filthy personal lives, of other people's lives (gossiping), or of what's new, hip and in, are void of substance, would make me guilty of arrogance.

What really bothered me to rant on sensible conversation is the present state of conversations nowadays in places like starbucks, figaro, seattle's or what have you. These coffee houses have evolved into symbol of status, power, and social class. Staying in one would reveal a sense of prestige and hierarchy because he/she could avail to sit down and satiate caffeinic urges at such an exorbitance. What happened with this evolution is that these coffee houses are at a brink of losing its own prestige as supposedly a venue for intellectual discourse on humanities, philosophy and virtually any topics under the sun that stimulates the intellect. I could only be hopeful that such European culture be brought here. But it seems it would only be a mere hope because now, they are being degraded into a place of sham, pretense and superficiality.

I do not claim to be one who always speaks with substance. But those two separate occasions of meeting my close buddies made me realize such state of present cafes alongside defining what sensible conversation is.

At the end of the day I was puzzled by two quite similar remarks. Lillen would tell me, "You guys really made me feel how it is to be me," and Joyce would say "I could just be myself when I am with you." That to me is a sensible, meaningful conversation.

Reading the Signs

And yet not a dream, but a mighty reality-a glimpse of higher life, broader possibilities of humanity, which is granted to the man who, amid the rush and roar of living, pauses four short years to learn what living means.
-W.E.B. DuBois

Lately, I have been seriously pondering about the turn out of events in my life. God is directing me towards serving Him through a youth organization that I helped taking care of last summer. Signs are vividly presenting themselves before me. And it's quite a stupidity if I relentlessly discount each one of them.

First, right after graduating, I never had a clear goal of what to do with my effing life. They were dynamically shifting from God knows what. I want to take a masteral degree without clearly knowing which field would I concentrate on. My thoughts range from taking political science to economics to foreign policy to organizational psychology to business administration. It went as far as pursuing back my childhood dream of going to medicine school and be a physician to pursuing the reason why I took political science as my major, to enter law school and become a feisty lawyer one day. But honestly, I was just left wanting and more confused. Of the many things I wanted to do and amidst knowing that I can commit myself to any of it, I failed to come up with one definite plan as regards my post-graduate education.

Second, a few days after going off from college, I tried on venturing into the corporate world. My degree was not my passport. It can never sounded so "corporate." My relatively good communication skills and command of the english language allowed me to pass the application process on a reputable business-processing organization (read: call center). That was early April. I could have started immediately and perhaps been earning profusely by now, but at that very decisive moment when I was asked to sign the six-month contract of selling my soul to the whims and caprices of the capitalist industry, I turned it down. I am very glad, I had the guts to do it. I believed with my credentials, thinking I deserve something more.

Third, at mid April, I was invited by my friend to attend and observe a summer youth camp that their group organized. Unhesitatingly, I said yes. Before awakening my senses to see if I wasn't dreaming, I was already riding on the ferry bound to Palawan. With what I saw there, I confirmed what in my classroom I learned only as a theory. There I have directly felt despondent realities.I realized, no amount of social theories, nor of political thoughts had actually revealed what I felt while standing on the actual scenario. There are so many things to be changed. And these won't take place in a wink of an eye. But at least, they've got to be started by transforming the youth. I have found myself in my friend's vision. Next thing I know, I was being transformed by it, slowly dedicating myself in such an advocacy never unfamiliar to me. I spent more than a month in Palawan, with the youth and the organization, sharing my ideas and thoughts on how the system might be improved and overhauled.

Fourth, after that crusade I went back to Manila to find out that my mom was ill again. She was hospitalized for almost a month, burning money skewedly proportional to its production. At that time when I thought I could be tendering a quite impressive resume to some reputable company, I was held back by mom's ailing condition. I have to become a full-time "physician" and a "nurse" rolled into one. I prepare food for her, bathe her, assist her everytime she needs to use the bathroom, accompany her during her check-up, and do several errands for her. But I never see those as a burden though, but rare moments and opportunities to spend with her to, at least, compensate the lost times. No amount of riches can certainly replaced those moments.

Fifth, my personal struggles concocted with that of my mom's, have drawn me closer to what once I called as a Supreme Being that promotes order in the universe. Now, that Being is my God. His son, Jesus, is my savior. Slowly, gradually, but surely I am knowing them. I am recognizing my spirituality and the need to share it with others. Proudly, I could say I am on my way to becoming a Christian-a real Christian-no pretense, no adulterated intentions. Right now, I am developing a habit of earnestly checking my motives. I want it always to be pure and real, impossible it is in a human perspective. But when it is done to turn back to God what belongs to him, I know it is possible.

These turn out of events have ingrained in me so much motivation not only to rethink the values that I hold on to but more importantly, to know what it is that makes me happy. Apparently, I found home in God. I found comfort in his purposes for me. I found myself wanting to become his instrument in transforming other peoples' lives, uplift their consciousness and inspire them, as I myself have been uplifted and inspired.

My Battle

What am I supposed to do with my feelings? Their killing me. I have gone through much pain thinking about the impossibility of things, on why am I so imperfect to fit? Why am I feeling things that I have not intended to? I never wanted this. But my mind falters against my heart. As if the latter has a mind of its own that my own mind cannot control. It is the heart that is seeing. But it is seeing perhaps what to my mind is the wrong one. My mind has its own set of reasons, the impossibility is what it sees vividly. Their battle is my own endless contention of what I am supposed to do. They confused me so much. But what can I do? I am left unaided with high caliber arms. I am soldier who's fighting in a battle totally unknown, in a battlefield so unfamiliar that the probability of losing is greater than that of winning. I am not sure if I can fight back with enough fervor. That is because I am not certain if it will yield me triumphant. But face with too much uncertainties, I know for a fact that I want to win this battle as much as I want to lose it.

Day 19: Cultivating Community

The world of tomorrow belongs to the person who has the vision today.

-Robert Schuller

My Master has called me to work in his vineyard. I have known it because it is my heart that has spoken. And it is where my Master usually converses with me. It is my Master and his will that my heart beats. He revealed to me an astute vision. A vision that I could not turn my back against because deep at the marrow of my humanity, it was what I really want to be doing, otherwise I would have not discovered them myself. My master wants to use my hands to plow the soil in his vineyard so that previously unexplored areas would be utilized. He encourages me to till it so that its fertility and richness may be tapped. He wants me to plant new and more seeds on them, watch them grow and nourish. He cautioned me though to become realistic: that I can never plow his entire field so I have to focus on that little part he has gladly offered to me. His is so vast that no human mind can ever grasp. Its richness though, exudes with so much grace. He told me that the little portion he has given me will never go unnoticed, because if I handle it with passion and commitment the seeds I planted will grow robust and healthy, which shall add to the vineyard's verdant greenery. And so I realized that little as it may, if the tiny seeds planted on a richly cultivated soil is well taken care of, healthy plants will sprung anew with a greater probability of producing new seeds, which when planted again will become equally productive, if not better. By then, I would have created a cycle, which can soar new beginnings and find new horzions. Only, the soil must be kept fertile and rich.

Day 18: Experiencing Life Together

Forgiveness is letting go of the past. Trust has to do with the future.

Relationships are vital to one's growth. I view them as opportunities for one to discover himself, to realize his potentials and to find out for himself how he would fare. Relationships, be it intimate or not, come and go. And when they leave, they always cast an indelible mark that shall be forever be etched in one's memory. Positive the outcome maybe or not, they retain lessons and perhaps lingering sentimentalities on what was felt. Relationships do evolve as well. Sometimes naturally, sometimes by forced. Some are kept to mature. Some are left as they are. Some are even instant. But no matter what kind they maybe, no matter how they were shared, there is always one common thing: shared life, or a shared portion of that life. Life, after all, is meant to be shared. Sometimes we choose people whom to share it with, temporarily or long term. More often, however, we never choose who would come or how they would come or how long would they stay. It is us who seems to be always trapped by our sentimentality, which force us to hold on even more, without realizing that it is only the memories which we are holding on to. We keep them in our hearts, in our minds. And once in a while we go back to them, sometimes we rebel on such thoughts, yet they continue to linger. The one day we would pick up the pieces where we left them off and move on and experience life but this time around with another because we concede to the fact that life is meant to be shared.

Day 17: A Place to Belong

I am called to belong, not just believe. Belonging, I think, is where beliefs can be practiced and be enhanced with other believers. For someone like me who's often than not, a loner and highly irrelational, it is a big challenge. Yet, I am gradually realizing the worth of belonging, of fellowship. Man is a social being. It is within a community that he either develops or shrinks. Both are however predicated by choice. One would realize his full potential, for example, when he thrived amidst a censorious crowd, but despite that he emerged as a victor. Likewise, an inhibited self is a result of a choice not to be bold enough to dare himself or be dared. Social or non-social, every one directly affects or is directly affected by the community. Again, it is a matter of choice which kind of community one would want to be included. Perhaps, it is within one's scope interests, beliefs and nuances. But for sure, the entity called community, will keep one from backsliding. Called it a benefit of inclusion or membership, but such a coterie can be a powerful medium for one's own transformation.

Day 16: What Matters Most

I have yet to muster the courage to write something about love, the thing that matters most. There's a lot of it wanting to break free from my senses, and letting it loose, is like allowing a small patch of hole in a dam grow magnified until it gets inevitably uncontainable. So for now, I have to keep it. I would have to censure myself from touching its delicate feathers. Someday, I'll let it fall, lightly and free until it touches the waiting bossom of the earth.

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Apparently, my 100th entry coincides with the topic on love. Sad, I can't force my not-so creative juices to write about it.