Epic

There are times in my life, working in events, when I get to be invited to the events of other people, brands, team mates, and other companies. And in these instances when I am not overly cautious of and worrying about what's happening on stage, with the lights, the script and the program, the host, with the guests, VVIP's, the security, waiters, the tab, the gate-crashers and other elements independently moving of, or interdependently moving with, each other, I enjoy the event the way it should be. A party's meant to be partied. And sometimes I let go. Call it BS but I find it spiritual to let go of one's self every now and then. It's part of crashing one's self, losing one's self in happiness and chaos so you may find yourself whole again, and appreciate your wholeness, tomorrow.

So to you out there, soul brother and sister, through space in between oceans and mountains, I enjoy life with you. Cheers to life!

Mom, I'm glad you came. =)

How do you greet someone a happy birthday when that person has passed away? Many people believe good people go to heaven. Many say, they're waiting for judgment. My belief is simple - we go back to the eternity of the Universe, which makes death not a scary end but a glorious destination. I subscribe to the belief that we are particles of the Universe and that at birth, we are lent time to experience physical consciousness through the gift and wonder of senses; an experience we call life. This world then is a very, very special place for this experience and we are extremely lucky to go through it. Each life on earth is a rarity in the wideness of space and each birth, each arriving and awakening a consciousness, therefore is a gift of immeasurable worth.

I'm therefore thankful that my mom's life was one experience worth having. It was a beautiful life of adventures, challenges and successes shared with friends and family. What I remember now of her are not really the times we spent together but her journeys she made on her own - that trip to the province one summer with Tita Baby when they were kids, her daily long walk to the school from Camp Aguinaldo, the suitors she had, the clothes she sew for herself, her part-time work during college - solo challenges that made her strong and unique. And while I remember her for who she was on her own, I'm definitely thankful how her life has affected and inspired mine. She's Christian but not overtly religious - finding in her life inconsistencies between what she learned in her challenges versus what were taught to her. She was a beautiful rebel - questioning first before accepting and accepting what's true in this world, not what should be according to some. She was wise as a mother could get but ever curious like a child; ever beautiful. The entirety of her was a wonder of nature, a glimpse of the beauty of the eternal.

Each life is a rarity not only in its physical presence versus the vastness of the universe but also as a moment in history. Our lives are on their own, rare experiences that only one person can go through in one's own limited lifetime. Each on of us is a limited edition. And my mom was one limited edition gift I'm glad and joyful to have had. She was an experience on her own that I remember now in sunny summers, cold teas and in laughter. Now she's back up there, in eternity, in the universe, in space. She's back to what she was before, a particle, an essence of the eternal, unconscious but still beautiful. She's now dust, also light; a star I look up to every clear night. I don't desire to see her living once again, breathing in physicality. But I do look forward to joining her again in the peaceful, beautiful, glorious eternity of the light-filled universe.

So how do I greet her a happy birthday? Just like this. In being glad she came.



I love and miss you mom. :)

One among billions

Writing.

I used to love writing. I wrote all over notebooks, back-to-back, cover-to-cover. I wrote on text books and reference books, on tissue paper and on McDonald's paper trays and paper cups that I stare at while waiting for friends. I even wrote on post-its that I stick on bus back seats during bus rides on lonely nights from work so that other people may share what wisdom, theory or hypothesis I have in mind - just to share a feeling. The knowledge that someone will most probably read what I wrote, keep the post-it and bring it home, maybe stick on his own notebook if the message resonates, kept me writing randomly.

It started in high school and college where writing kept me sane and competent. I had bad memory, except for history, so I had to scribble down lessons I can understand in my own language on my notebooks to remember things that pop in my head. I had to support textbook definitions and lessons with my own reflections so I can understand them. I also saw myself at that time as a student, not only of my school, but of the world at large - with nuggets of wisdom and ideas popping in my head uncontrollably I had to write them down to record them. To remind myself of lessons learned and ideas I can call mine. Writing was my head's reserve and my hands' preoccupation. Without writing, I could have been a different me as I would have no recourse to sift through my head's own work. Until blogging came.

The knowledge that whatever I wrote online will be kept online forever was such a comfort. I had confidence that I will never lose a note or idea, or lesson learned through hard work. Always I'd say, whether I get to execute them or not, my ideas are my greatest wealth and asset. To hold them through words is like keeping my hard-earned money in a bank. Ideas to me are the products of one's imagination and creativity mixed with personal observations and experiences, seen through one's own values and principles. You cannot force-produce ideas, they just come to you subconsciously. In the same light, that's why only some ideas come to all while only people of similar minds and experiences produce similar ideas. "Great minds think alike," so they say. That's why to me, ideas are ultra precious worth owning and keeping. Even musings on ideas are ideas themselves.

So why have I lost it seems the desire to write? Many things. I feel the space for expression is overly, overly crowded. Even if no one reads you, the fact that just a few changes in your blog address produces a blogsite entirely different from yours, from an entirely different person, crowds the world wide web of expression. Social media has crowded our personal universe. It has become polluted. The blogosphere is itself polluted with ugly ads, paid write-ups, corrupt writers and know-it-alls with super baaad grammar. Especially among Philippine blogs, the stench of backroom deals, social alliances and petty bickering that make up phony urban "society" here have surfaced on published posts and tweets, crassly, without hesitation nor reflection among the writers and readers. Local blogging had become a picture and expression of the feudal mindset and aggressive mediocrity that have continuously assaulted and hostaged our society.

So I got my notebook back and created my own personal space where I started scribbling and writing again.

I'm not saying that blogging to me has become a lost battle. It is after all, a venue where great ideas still surface and there are still fantastic writers out there worth my time and respect. Gems do lie in heaps of rubble and dirt and diamonds are produced under great weight, heat and pressure, dug through industrious labor. It is in this hope that I will continue to try to be different in the blogosphere whether people read me or not. Many treasures are found by people stumbling upon them. It's a hope that some still stumble upon these thoughts and get ideas or lessons from them. To be read and be relevant are not desires, not wishes nor causes of joy. To be read and understood however is blazingly hoped for, serenely, peacefully, with thoughts of connecting and progressing our society and humanity as a whole.

Tayo ay manunulat

Tayo ay manunulat.

Tayo ang mga tulay ng iba't ibang panahon at tagasalin ng tradisyon. Sa ating mga akda, napagdu-dugtong-dugtong natin ang mga kwento't alamat ng ating lahi mula sa unang pagsikat ng araw sa ating mga isla sa panahon ni Bathala hanggang sa kasalukuyan, sa ilalim ng ibang ulap na inihip parito ng tadhana. Kung hindi tayo nagsulat at patuloy na magsusulat, hindi na tayo makababalik pa sa lupa at mundong ating pinanggalingan. Yaong mundong may hustisya at kapayapaan sa bawat apak ng paa ng ating mga ninuno, sa kanilang bawat sagwan, sayaw at pagkanta sa mga gubat at kapatagan, sa kanilang bawat paghinga.

Ang ating mga mata ang bintana ng kasaysayan. Hanggang tanaw at saksi natin ang ating bansa, ang kanyang mga mamamayan at ang mga kaganapan sa kanyang mga bayan, maitatala ng ating mga kamay kung ano at sino at naging tuwid, baluktot, mapag-balatkayo, ang mga naging bayani at ang mga pook ng kanilang kadakilaan, at ang yaong mga karaniwang taong tahimik sa pagtulong sa kapwa at pag-buo ng mga haligi ng lahi at bayan. Huwag tayong magpapabulag sa takot o ambisyon; walang halaga ang yaman sa manunulat na tapat sa tungkulin. Huwag tayong pipikit sa dilim kung kailan tayo ang inaasahang hahawak ng liwanag ng katotohanan, dahilan at pag-asa. Huwag tayong kikindat at piliting mang-aliw, kung kailan kailangan ng ating mga matang dumilat sa katotohanang nagaganap sa ating paligid. Huwag tayong kukurap sa ihip ng suliranin. Huwag tayong pipikit, mga manunulat.

Tayo ay mga manunulat. Sa iilang letra, bumubuo tayo ng libo-libong istorya, mga istoryang pinakakawalan natin sa hangin ng buhay. Naway yaong mga makahahagip ng ating mga akda ay makakapit dahil marami sa kanila ngayo'y mga istorya na lamang ang kayang mahawakan. At sa kanilang pagkapit, naway's madala natin ang kanilang isipan sa malawak na himpapawid ng pagkakataon at pangarap. Palayain natin sila sikip ng pagdududa, sa putik ng aba at sa kamatayan ng kawalang pag-asa. Dalhin natin sila sa liwanag. Ipakita natin ang mas malaking katotohanang malawak ang mundo at ang espasyo nito para sa mga taong nagpupursigi. Dalhin natin sila sa taas ng bundok ng tagumpay nang makita nilang mapanganib man ang gubat ng buhay, ang sukal nito'y nadadaanan, naaakyatan, napagwa-wagian. At kapag sila'y nasulasok at nakulong sa patibong ng ibang tao, mapagpanakop na pananampalataya, kasinunangilan, impluwensya at doctrina, magiging malakas ang bagwis ng katotohanang ating sinusulat na aalpas sa anumang paghila. Bigyang lakas natin ang ating mga letra sa bawat kwento, pelikula, dula, tula at lahat ng akda.

Tayo ay manunulat. Tayo ay walang lahi, pamilya, relihiyon at partido dahil kalahi, kadugo, kapanampalataya at kasama natin ang lahat. Walang tayong panig, walang kampi, patron o panginoon kung hindi katotohanan at bayan. Wala nang mas tataas pa, wala nang sasambahin pang iba o paglilingkuran pa, kung hindi ang kadakilaan ng bayan. Wala tayong sisiguraduhin kung hindi ang pagsulong ng lahi sa gabay ng katotohanan.

At sa dapit-hapon, magtipon-tipon tayong mga manunulat sa dalampasigan ng tadhana. Tayo'y magsaya at magdiwang sa ating tungkulin. Hindi tayo mga panginoon ni alipin, hindi bayarang kawani o masunuring utusan. Kaya magdiwang tayo sa ating kalayaan at ipagtanggol ang kapangyarihang ito; kapangyarihan ipinamana sa atin ng mga sakripisyo ng ating mga ninuno. Tayo'y mga manunulat, mga alagad ng bayan, anak ng mga bayani. Magsama-sama tayo sa ating mga mithiin at tungkulin. Sa araw-araw ng buhay, alalahanin at tupdin natin ang ating dakila at banal na layunin.

Mahirap magbingi-bingihan sa katotohanan; mahirap magsulat subalit kinakailangan.

War against the mundane

There's an internal conflict within me that God answers in whispers.

Right now, facing two very real challenges that anchor me to the safety of the mundane, the safety of the familiar and the ordinary, I am fighting to continue to discover who else I can be. I admire the men who charted their own paths in the world without regard to the challenges their families will face because of their own journey.

Do I love my family too much that I am willing to sacrifice the prime of my life just to deliver their needs? Do I put too much importance on a romantic bond that I'd want to promise forever, but I cannot because forever means getting tied with limited access to life options? Are my current conveniences holding me back? For example, am I willing to lose my car in favor of battling it out again and hopefully get another one (which should be leagues in upgrade) in the process? But maybe, I'm asking the wrong questions. The leader in me asks me, shouldn't the question be, how I can move forward with all of these in my bag of responsibilities?

I want to produce events, but how without money? I want to study interior design so I can design spaces and things, but how without time? I want to design experiences, but how without the means? I feel like my true life, the one I should be living, the one I am here for to live, is living under the surface of my regular life as a brother, as a loving partner, as a manager. And sometimes, I wish I'm in one of those movie reveal moments, when the character realizes or finds out that he has powers and privileges unimaginable in his ordinary life, that turns his life around in an instant. I wish that. In every door knob I turn, or letter I open.

I wish I am taken away from the mundane and taken to live a life and world of fantastic. But the reality is...

...dreams are worked on before they get fulfilled. Luck sometimes happen but to heroes, it's their decision that turns their life around. The single decision when they say, "this is enough;" "I have to do this now." I'm tired of announcing to the world the cliches "I've found me," "World, here I come," or "Finally, I am here." There are no fantasies here in this world. There are just actions. And sometimes, in moments like this, I just have to write to document the status of my mind and remember why or why not I am living the life I want.