Moment Of Silence

Sometimes, it's hard to be silent and be still.

Contemplating Priesthood

I am contemplating priesthood. But, apparently, God isn't giving me any easy answers.

Some people tell me that such decisions on what vocation to choose actually happen during those rare instances of blinding self-awareness, those moments akin to Saint Paul's "Road To Damascus" conversion.

To be honest, I haven't had any of those experiences. Almost every decision I've made in the past was always laboriously slow and paradoxically haphazard and impulsive.

But, setting that aside, I think I already have some indicators as to where I could end up ten years from now. First, as of the moment, I still don't feel the need to have a significant other. I don't know if it's because I'm a late bloomer or I'm in a premature stage of andropause but marriage is slowly but definitely becoming an option quite alien to me.

I also don't mind not being a father. Sure, I do feel sad sometimes considering the notion but not fathering a child is also slowly becoming a welcoming idea.

To sum it up, I think I already have the necessary mindset to really pursue priesthood in the future. The thought of no marriage or fatherhood doesn't bother me at all and I think that a willingness to serve can be taught and further developed in the seminary.

But that's the problem right there. That's what I feel right now. But what about after five years? Or ten? Would I feel the same way? Surely, such a decision to pursue priesthood remains a leap of faith and a steadfast allegiance to the vocation despite the uncertainties of human nature.

Hmmm...

Maybe, having said this, it's better to ponder and discern for a while. Better check back on this post after several years. As of the moment, there's no rush.

Remembering PMT

Let's talk about PMT: Preparatory Military Training. This part of my high school experience had been bugging me for awhile now since there's a lot I have to share about this certain area of my life. This itch was further compounded by a chance encounter with Raj Basa last December 25, an encounter which had lead me to wonder what my other fellow ex-officers are thinking about regarding their PMT days.

Perhaps, I should be the one to make the first move, that's why I'm sharing this now.

First, a little background. I'm Paolo Bataller, Battalion Commander of my batch, Cadet Lieutenant Colonel. I guess my ascent to power and (presumably notoriety) was effected by a stroke of luck. I was the last of a series of COCC (Cadet Officer Candidacy Course? These acronyms are easy to forget) leaders, with the first few candidates bowing out of the program. By the start of my senior year in high school, I was the de facto candidate for Battalion Commander, not because of my imposing stature ( I'm a short dude, you know) but probably because I was among the few who took COCC seriously (ex: I memorized totally the material given to us, mastered the drills as best as I could, and internalized everything that our officer-mentors told).

But hubris aside, I guess the best word that encapsulates my PMT experience is this: angst. Amidst the companionship, the camaraderie, the fun that ironically flowed from our shared punishments, there was always this unflinching air of desperation. And even five years after, I'm still left shaking my head, begging the question: Why did we have to go through all that (crap)?

Simply put, it was a difficult time. Imagine doing something without any support from the outside whatsoever. That's what being an officer was about then. I don't know about the rest of corps but I almost became an "emo" at that time, complete with intense periods of abandonment and silent anger directed against the powers-that-be.

The issue behind this was that the school administration didn't want PMT anymore and we were supposed to be the last batch. Although winning the administrator's support was always first in our agenda, our efforts were rendered futile in the long run. It didn't help that there was already widespread condemnation among the faculty over some questionable "PMT" practices (which, I believe, we've minimized or removed over time).

It also didn't help that it was hard to convince everyone that PMT must continue if the officers themselves weren't exactly a very convincing lot. I had to admit then that, despite our best intentions, we were a motley crew for a corps, with officers of regrettable academic records and dubious ethical standards (Try remembering someone who punished everyone with squat thrusts under the heat of the sun... On Fiesta day, mind you). Compound to that fact the realization that we didn't have convincing reasons why PMT should stay.

Basically, PMT was unpopular and this fact was hard for us who were part of the organization.

What aggravated the situation was that we had no competent commandant to start with (Pardon me, Sir Antonio, but you weren't a factor in my tenure as a PMT officer). If you had imagined what it would be like doing something without support, try imagining now being an orphan. That was what we were. There was no guiding light for the corps, no mentor to tell us what we ought to do and why, no reference person for protocol, drills, and SOPs, and certainly no big-shot PR man or consultant (like what they have now. Lucky guys). We were alone, on our own, relying only on small tidbits of information from former officers of years past and from the occasional wisdom of our colleagues.

But somehow we managed to pull through. Somehow, we managed to pull off a minimalist pass-in-review without any COCC cadets to herald the future, so to speak. And though this was a false triumph (PMT was still going away, anyway), still, I couldn't help but feel proud of what we had achieved considering the difficulties that we had to go through.

And in the end, that's all that matters, right?

Remembering Christmas

In line with advent, allow me to share something I wrote in my journal a long time ago (Yes, I did keep journals in college and, like I always say, I prefer calling these notebooks "journals" since "diaries" are for women. But I'm already getting away. Carry on). I wrote this journal entry last December 24, 2007 and is actually divided into two parts: the first part I wrote down before we went to the midnight Christmas mass and the second part was written after our Noche Buena.

The reason why I'm sharing this is because, ever so often, we miss out on the "real" reason why we're celebrating Christmas. Hence, we often feel that our Christmases, despite the presents and the festivities, are both hollow and lacking in substance. I do hope that this post will serve as a point of reflection for others, guiding them to the actual cause for celebration in this season of hope. Here goes:

First Part (Actual Entry)
It's almost Christmas and right now, I'm feeling numb. Lonely even. Not happy at all. Ambut uy. Wait. What else pa ba ang dapat buhatun? Let's see. Lit 33 report. Chapt 4,6,8 sa Thesis. Ok, Lord, help me. This is another boring Christmas. Is Christ aware of that? I don't feel renewed kay I didn't make an effort to renew myself. Sa New Year's Eve na lang. Really, I feel so old na (a la Kris Aquino).

Second Part (Actual Entry)
Damn! How could I have forgotten! Ginasulat naku ni kay para kung muabot ang Christmas next year puhon, kung feeling napud naku na empty ang Christmas, pwede naku basahun ang part sa akong journal nani ug ma-remind ko what exactly am I celebrating about this Christmas. Na-struck man gud ko sa sermon kaganiha sa pari. According to one father of the church, St. Iraneus ba to?, Christmas is a celebration of the "marvelous exchange", a phenomenon he beautifully stated in these words: That the Son of God became the Son of Man so that the sons of man can become sons of God. Beautiful. Bitaw noh? Christmas is never about being happy; it is about celebrating the incarnation of God. That's what it's all about. It is not about family reunions, peace, unity, generosity, charity, although there are, shall we say, "perks" of Christmas. Sa Christmas, we get to reminisce, reflect, and remember how the greatest story ever started. Gi-ingon pud sa Pari na ang mga mangaroling daw, naay purpose: they are supposed to be carrolling to tell people the Greatest Story ever. It was never about telling people, singing pala, crappy songs and collecting change. It's about telling people that Christ did come. To digress lang gamay, ganahan kaayo ko katung last line sa Cinderella, featuring Drew Barrymore, it says: ambut kung makuha naku exactly-"Yes, they did live happily ever after. But what's more important is that they lived." Bongga. I like that line. What's more important daw is that the story is true. Ok, let's go back. According to the priest, the problem with Christmas is that it has become too commercialized that we already start forgetting Christ, the reason for the celebration. In place, we have Christmas decorations and Santa Claus, all of this stuff that distract us from truly celebrating it. Song lyrics: "Bahala na kung wala man akong syota. Bahala na kung wala namang ham. Bahala na kung malayo ang pamilya. Basta't nandito si Kristo, pasko ko'y kumpleto na." Most of the time, we endorse Christmas values (like being with family, unity, peace, generosity) but no longer Christ. On hindsight, that's what made GMA's short film festival outputs so un-appealing: wala ang diwa ng pasko. Wala si Kristo. And it felt like, every time I watched one of those films, I felt cheated because I was being "commercialized", being swayed to think that the essence of Christmas need not include Jesus Christ. Christian values are enough. Hay naku. Ok, that's it.

Ok, that's it for this post too. Merry Christmas!

Trash Talk

One of the easiest ways for someone to lose my respect is for them to throw their trash haphazardly.

That happened while I was in college. I was with my thesis team mates and we were on our way home from Caraga after a one-day interview marathon with the Mandayas. I was with Faith, Pam, and Faith's father, the top honcho of NTC Region XI. Faith's father was driving the car and we were easing away from Mati, rolling by the cliff roads heading west.

Earlier on, I was immensely awed that a top government official was with us in the trip and was actually escorting us to and from the place of our thesis research. It was akin to being with the President of the Philippines, for instance, or being in the presence of a highly distinguished VIP (Photo shoot!).

But that initial impression was erased when Faith's father rolled down his window and threw a plastic cellophane into the air. Never mind that the car had enough compartments to hold the trash. Never mind that he could have kept that trash to be thrown later. Never mind that nobody would be around to pick up the trash for him. After that, I didn't look at her father the same way.

How come I'm bringing up this seemingly small matter? Well, that's because, while I was on my way home this morning (after attending Misa De Gallo), a fellow passenger in the tricycle I was riding on also did the same thing. After the lady had finished eating her kutsinta, she threw her trash into the air.

Just like that. An act so simple, yet so blatantly irresponsible and disrespectful.

Someone might tell me not to sweat the small stuff. But this "small stuff", this indiscriminate disposal of one's trash, actually speaks a lot about one person's character. For me, this "minor" misconduct implies a great deal about a person's level of self-discipline and impulse control (or lack thereof).

That's because throwing one's trash properly is as basic as you can get. Even in elementary, we are already taught that we should dispose our trash in the least harmful way possible. Sad to say, only a few people actually live by this lesson and if one cannot be entrusted with learning the small things in life, why should they be entrusted with the bigger things, lessons which already carry with them the weight of bigger responsibilities?

In addition, there is simply no excuse for such a behavior. I know of people who do bring around their trash until they find a trash receptacle and, now, I am beginning to wonder why most people can't do the same.

Throwing your trash anywhere at anytime isn't cool, dude. It simply means you're "burara" and if you're looking for respect, you won't be getting it from me.

You Tell Me

You tell me: Was I too harsh?

Two hours ago, I was grabbing something to munch at a burger joint. I was waiting for my order along with some customers.

Then, out of the shadows, three rambunctious kids approached the joint. There were from the neighborhood, kids who you would usually see strolling around the streets looking for spare change. They went straight to the woman sitting next to me and - with puppy dog eyes - begged for a peso. The woman gave one boy her drink.

Once I got my order, I proceeded to catch my ride. Another boy from the same group approached me, stretched out his hand, wore those puppy dog eyes again, and begged for one burger.

I immediately said to him, sternly, "Dili, kay manganad ka" (Rough translation: "No, because you will start to expect.")

Now, can you please tell me: was I too harsh?

A Weird Christmas Memory

Let me tell you something about what happened to me in high school. It's a pretty weird memory actually but it's worth writing down for posterity.

I actually remembered this while I was on my way home, when I was thinking about Christmases past. Like a brilliant flash of light, the memory flashed before my eyes and I was left grinning to myself afterwards.

It was after our class Christmas party. I think I was in third year then (or was it second year?). Earlier, there were already rumors about a haunted house somewhere in Champaca Street in Juna subdivision. Most of my classmates had already gone to visit the house, usually for sheer curiosity and usually in groups (which is a peculiar arrangement, come to think of it: daring yourself to go to a spooky place isn't as scary when you have companions in tow but it's certainly more fun).

Anyway, Cynthia Barriga and I had decided to come visit the place. I didn't know where the idea really came from (I guess it came from Cynthia) but, after the party, we were already off to Champaca street. After the tricycle driver dropped us off near the house (he rolled his eyes, apparently sensing that we were up to no good), we were on our own.

Well, not quite. You see, there were also a group of teenagers standing by near the entrance of the house (I think they also had the same idea). So Cynthia and I went inside the house and, lo and behold, she pulled out a rosary and started praying. What had been a sightseeing trip (at least for me) had turned to an amateur exorcism ritual. We ended up praying the whole rosary quickly then exited the building into the night.

Was it scary? Of course it was. The house was definitely abandoned and was very dark inside. I had a vivid imagination back then so all throughout the rosary, I kept "seeing" images popping out everywhere I looked. I remember swearing quietly back then, "What the hell where we thinking?" And until now, I still don't know the answer.

Maybe, Cynthia has another perspective about how things happened but this is my account. Haay... and nostalgia creeps in again.

Note: By the way, this post wasn't meant to be insightful.

Being A More Conscious Consumer

There was a time when my sister and I were deliberating where to buy our fast food before going off to the cinemas. The choice was either Jollibee or McDonalds. We ended up with Jollibee in the end. Sure, McDonalds had the better-tasting "fries", as what some people would purport, but the criterion behind the decision was where our money would end up.

If we had chosen McDonalds, a portion of our money would go to paying the salaries of the employees, the cost of the food, venue, and packaging and - of course - the wallet of the franchisee. But a portion of it would also go out of the country, as part of the franchise fee to be paid to the American corporation itself. Contrast this to buying at Jollibee's where the money we would be splurging for some highly unhealthy food would just end up somewhere in Davao and Manila only.

If we had been more strict about our criterion, we would have also considered the presumed "regionality" of the establishment owner. Stretching the idea "Tangkilikin Ang Sariling Atin" further, we would have been better off helping the local Davao economy by patronizing a business wholly owned by a dabawenyo. If this is the case, at least most of the money we would spend would end up somewhere here in Davao.

Stretching the above-mentioned idea even further, I also remember the time when my family was discussing where to eat out. The official choices were either Penong's or Lisa's. In the end, we ended up eating at Lisa's (only because Penong's was always full of customers). I remember remarking to my mother then that, all things being equal, we should choose to patronize the smaller business, which - in this case - was Lisa's. In this small way, we could best support those thriving businesses who aren't as popular but are nevertheless offering good service.

This is also probably why, if given the choice between a karinderya which offers good food and a franchise known for offering good food also, I would always go with the former. That's because the money would just end in the same place ("here") and not fly somewhere else, a fact that - like what every economist would tell you - is a welcome instance for the local economy.

In the end, I'm not saying that this is the best way to go about purchasing stuff. Sure, it's always good to patronize your own products but some products are definitely better when they are imported from outside. What I'm only trying to say is, at least, we should consider in our buying decisions the economic factor implied in the examples above: that is, every time we make a decision to buy, we should be aware of where the money we will be spending is going and we should allow this awareness to lead us to the "right" choice.

Winning Our Salvation

How exactly did Jesus Christ win our salvation? That's the question that is bothering me at the moment (I think that's either because it's almost Christmas or I've just read Betty Eadie's Embraced By The Light).

In catechism, I was taught that Christ saved us by coming down from Heaven and dying on the cross. He saved us by becoming the perfect sacrifice for the atonement of our sins. His death redeemed us from eternal punishment.

To be honest, I really don't get this whole arrangement. For instance, why did Jesus had to come down? Why was this the only way to win our salvation? And what exactly were we saved from (True,we might have been spared from eternal damnation, like what my CLE teacher said, but we were not saved from the human tendencies that make us sin. Bummer.)?

But perhaps, there's another way at looking at things and this involves looking at Jesus Christ less as a scapegoat and more like the perfect model of God's love. I know there's nothing new about what I just said but, in a period where people place more importance and emphasis to the act of sacrifice rather than to the man who made it, I believe it's urgent to revisit this idea once more.

Going back, Christ died to save us from our sins. But when exactly did he save us? Was it at his moment of death or was it when he came down to the world to face a life of mortality, suffering, and human frailty? For me, I would go with the latter. Debunking the perceived significance of the cross in salvation history, I believe Christ had already saved us when he decided to be born, when he decided to be a finite being. Christ had indeed "died" to save us from our sins but this was when he assumed life as a mortal and not when he was uttering his last words in Calvary.

Following this up, if the act of "saving" was not made at the cross but at the moment of coming down to the world, what did Jesus Christ save us from then? Well, I believe he saved us by living a life of love, by serving as the perfect example from which we can pattern our lives. In human history, it is impossible to not take notice that it was Jesus Christ who pioneered the centrality of love in human affairs.

To conclude this post, what do we make of the cross now? What do we make of his death? Rather than presupposing it was an unfortunate accident, I believe Christ's death was a necessary consequence, the inevitable byproduct of introducing a radically new concept of living, a concept borne on the premise that love should be the core of our humanity.

To sum it up, Christ had to "die" - he had to come down - to show us the way how to live. And in doing so, he was not spared the usual treatment we accord to society's radicals: he was persecuted and killed.

Right now, I'm still ruminating about what I just wrote here. But maybe, with some guidance from mentors, I can eventually clarify my thoughts more clearly and express them more eloquently. But right now, I think this is it. Advance Merry Christmas everybody and God be with you.

I Love You Woman

I found the passage below from a book I found in college, titled "Human Sexuality" by Chris Van Oosterhout and David Graham. This passage was part of an article about a contest between three ad agencies. The contest was about who could think of the best way to market "Man" to women. If I remember right, one agency marketed Man as a convenient tool to do the things women don't want to do ( "Any man will do anything to see a naked woman". I think that was the slogan.) I forgot what the second agency did (Utterly forgettable).

But the third agency made use of a love letter. Right away, I wrote its contents in my filler notebook then, saving it for posterity. Now, I'm going to put it in my blog. Hope you enjoy it. Here goes:

Woman,

I know you sometimes have doubts about me. About my feelings for you. I know you sometimes think the very qualities that make me a man, make me a pig. I'm not soft and sensitive like you. I'm self-absorbed. I'm callous. I'm a slob. I'm afraid to cry. I forget what I promised. I act like a child. I flirt when I shouldn't. I take you for granted. So I thought I should tell you my feelings so you'd know why I love you and that might remind you why you love me. We are two halves of an amazing creature. I love how we fit together so perfectly despite our very different proportions and angles. I love the feeling of your small, delicate hand in my big clumsy paw. I love the way you know just when I need a hug. I love how you forgive me. I love how you can coax out the small boy hiding behind my macho exterior. I love how you make me feel strong and protective. I love being your best friend. I love being your opposite. I love how you make me a better human being. I love you woman. I love being your other half.

Man.

Job Hunt

Now that I'm about to be two months old in my new company, I thought it's high time to share a bit of info about my first job hunt.

Last year, I had it easy. By early March 2008, I already knew where I was going: Manila. I already had in hand a job offer from a consultancy firm and, unlike the rest of my batch mates, I was simply cruising along, waiting for my plane ride out of town.

This time around, things weren't that easy. I arrived in Davao City early June this year, with no job prospect and no idea about what the job market was in my own city. Fortunately, I was overconfident at that time, thinking that any person who had worked in Manila for over a year could easily land a job amidst the throng of desperate job hunters.

But I was wrong. One month stretched to two, then to three, then to four. I guess part of the blame about why it took me so long was my pacing. For a given day, I only spent about an average of three hours actually looking for a job, and the rest was spent blogging, reading, networking, and checking what's new in the internet.

But despite my inefficiencies, my job hunt was also lengthened by one simple fact: a job hunt is also a waiting game. And so, there were weeks when I didn't do anything but wait. Wait for that call. Wait for that email. Wait for something to happen. Wait for the right opportunity. Wait for some divine intervention.

It was extremely frustrating at best. The power to be hired is not with me after all, but with the person sitting across me with the pen and my resume. And sometimes, that person isn't really into me or is simply whiling away the time, with no intention of considering me at all.

Nevertheless, despite those times when I felt that my self-esteem was crumbling, despite those days when I thought nothing was going right, I can still say I am grateful that I had those four months.

Why? Well, because, just like everything in life, my first job hunt helped build my character even more. I learned to be more humble, to be more thankful about the blessings I have received, and to be more patient and considerate.

My parents had advised me earlier (more like "forewarned") that job hunting in Davao City is an especially lengthy process since HR departments around here aren't exactly fretting over how fast they can pump up personnel. Looking back at my experience, they were right after all but, still, I'm happy that all of that "stuff" happened to me.

Maybe, in the future, I can write more about those "stuff". But right now, I have to stop writing. I have a job tomorrow and, come morning, I'll be stressed all over again. Peace out.

Text Messages 13

A reflection in life:
1.) Sometimes, God breaks our spirit to save our soul.
2.) Sometimes, He breaks our heart to make us whole.
Anonymous, May 13, 2009

Never ever grow tired of living your life.
Never ever quit on moving forward.
Never ever stop running.
For you never know how many persons are looking at you.
Anonymous, May 14, 2009

Today, think about how rich you are:
1.) Your family is priceless.
2.) Your time is gold.
3.) Your health is wealth.
4.) Your savior is the greatest treasure of all.
May you always remember these.
Anonymous, June 7, 2009

Ever wonder:
Why the sun lightens our hair but darkens our skin?
Why is it that to stop Windows XP, you have to click "Start"?
Why "abbreviation" is such a long word?
Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"?
Why is the man who invests all your money called a "broker"?
Why is the time of day when traffic is slowest called "Rush Hour"?
Argyl Serrano, October 26, 2009

John Maxwell:
Take small steps of courage to prepare you for greater ones. Most of us want to grow quickly and be done with it. The reality is that genuine growth is slow, and to be successful, we should start with small things and do them every day.
Marvin Marba, November 11, 2009

I never resist temptation, because I have found that the things that are bad for me do not tempt me - George Bernard Shaw
Anonymous, November 12, 2009

Pedro: Pre, ni-graduate na jud ta no bisag 30 anyos nata.
Juan: Kalooy sa Diyos pre.
Pedro: Unya pre, graduate naman jud ta. Unsa man?...Mulahos pa ta'g high school?
Anonymous, November 12, 2009

What makes music important is thatit can be the voice of what we feel inside, especially when we are mute to the words of our hearts.
Ma. Anne Andicoy, November 13, 2009

No matter how plain and simple you are, there's that someone who will surely look at you as if you're the most perfect creature who ever existed...Malamang nanay mo yun.
Edwin Gutierrez, November 14, 2009

Three simple rules:
1.) If you do not go after what you want, you'll never have it.
2.) If you do not ask, the answer will always be "No".
3.) If you do not step forward, you'll always be in the same place.
Learn to take risks and see where your brave heart can take you.
Edwin Gutierrez, November 14, 2009

Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
Mark Salazar, November 19, 2009

You deserve a day where worries don't get in the way of anything; a day where, even if some people are insensitive or unkind, you're not going to mind because the blessings you received are far better than the burdens you've experienced. Stay positive in life!
Argyl Serrano, November 23, 2009

Right leadership only grows from leading right. We will only become a powerful leader based on our ability to empower our people. Oftentimes, the difference between success and failure is leadership. Remember: leaders are examples not exempted. - John Maxwell
Marvin Marba, November 24, 2009

The reason why a seesaw was made for two persons is that when you go down, there will always be someone there to lift you up again.
Anonymous, December 4, 2009

Why does something have to be so hard sometimes?
Maybe because if everything was easy, we won't know if anything is worth it.
Edwin Gutierrez, December 5, 2009

If you keep doing what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got. So the logic is: When you want something you've never had, you've got to do something you've never done.
Anonymous, December 5, 2009

"If what's ahead scares you and what's behind hurts you. Just look above. He never fails to help you."
Edwin Gutierrez, December 6, 2009