Would I Have It Any Other Way?

There are times when discouragement sets in. Frustrated because of the limited space one operates in, he gets choked by what he perceives as a continuing want. He begins to notice that everyone had ran past him, leaving him to ask if it was complacency or the absence of freedom, like those enjoyed by others, caused his timid pace. All the unanswered questions breaks him.

But in the middle of his distress, he turns to see his sleeping daughter and begins to ask.

Would he really choose personal freedom over her? Would all the synonyms of success come close to the 7-letter name of his child?

Would he rather be that father busy building his empire or would he, instead, choose to be present and available for every little victory she achieves, be awed by another original and built-up-from-scratch art project, listen to each story she wants to share?

Would he rather spend the day in the company of people he views as artists, endlessly indulging with them in hope that what he learns will give him the empowerment he seeks? Or would he prefer hearing his daughter read him a story?

Would he chase every opportunity that will bring him esteemed stature among his peers or would instead choose immersing on the experience of living and laughing with his child?

Would he aim at working to have all that his heart desires or would he settle for what is basic because the endless pursuit of want may take him and his time away from her?

Would he rather have the personal space to pursue his passions in exchange for the chance to witness his child's journey from leukemia to recovery?

Would he have it any other way?

Nothing can be as eternally precious as this child, he remembers.

Joy flows and he begins to smile.

When You Say Yes

Photo Credit: Wikipedia

You commit.

Otherwise you would have said “No”, “I have to get back to you on that.”, “I am super busy!” or my personal favorite: “Let me check Cecille.”

When you say “Yes”, you are essentially saying “I Can.”

When you say “Yes”, it will often be understood as “I deliver.”

When you say “Yes”, you are soliciting an “I Trust” from your audience.

When you say “Yes”, all who gave their “I Trust” will start holding on to your every word. Nothing less for one who has freely given his “I Trust.” Everyone awaits the fulfillment of your “Yes.”

The only choice is to deliver, to keep your promise, to live up to your “Yes.”

When you say “Yes” you have to commit for whether you like it or not, your “Yes” talks loudly about the brand named “ME”.

Now, if I only knew they will suddenly take that object of my “Yes,” that led to my “I Can,” that was understood as “I deliver,” that elicited an “I Trust,” off the shelf.....

One Is Fun

This afternoon, our Sky Cable Digibox was delivered and installed. Though our TV is from the prehistoric era, our viewing has now become digital and with a few more channels added as bonus. Yes, finally it is Asian Food Channel festival for yours truly.

The technician may not be impressed with my TV but he was blown away by the good cable signal we are getting. He said that compared to the many other installations he did before this, ours was way above average.

He further explained that signal strength is inversely proportional to the number of television sets connected. Ours was strong simply because this is a one television household. Others are weak because they decided to have as many viewing sets as there are people in their homes.

Listening to him talk, I can't help reflect on the possible reasons why folks would want to have so many television sets. Is it because the best viewing position, when most information is assimilated, is while the head is propped against a pillow and our back rested on our beds? I need to Google this.

Or is it because the more TV you have, the more you will be perceived as a success? Hmmm....

But as parents do we complain that our children are more interested on things other than us? Could it be because we have allowed more television set than necessary?

I have long decided that we will only have one. More TV equals more distraction and the more distracted we are, the lesser we tend to communicate with each other. It separates us, it leads to even less caring.

Indeed, one is enough. It allows the three of us to communicate, to enjoy as a family, to laugh as one, to care. Not distracted is who we are. Yes, we are having fun with one.

A Parable On Grief

A relative and her family was in deep mourning. A well loved member of their home was suddenly gone. What compounded everyone's grief was the way the beloved died. A son, for sometime, believed there was foul play and resorted to surfing the internet on ways to get back at the one he thought caused the anguish their family were then going through. Everyone was inconsolable.

A few days after the incident, we were there listening to all of them speak. Everyone has a special story to tell. It was obvious how much they cherished the presence of the deceased. Everyone wept while recalling the good times.

But before I get any further, it was not a person that died. It was their pet rabbit. And the suspect? Well, everyone believed the neighbor's cat that did it. It was, however, a theory I find deeply suspicious and was eventually quashed after hearing the complete story.

Photo Credit: Larry D. Moore

Bunny Rabbit was everybody's favorite, far more than the family's black Labrador. Bunny Rabbit entered the family after a successful school project. Everyone has grown fond of him, even Carmella herself. And as a consequence, here was one overly pampered bunny.

There was something about his cuddly nature that comforts. It must be the “Awww” factor, the one I hear from Carmella every time she sees something cute and cuddly. And even if Bunny Rabbit was getting bigger each passing day and has become messy, he still occupies a space inside the family's abode where everyone can see him from any point in the house. In his short life he never experienced spending the night outdoors.

It is no wonder then that everyone blamed the neighbor's cat for the demise of their favorite pet. The anger was so deep that someone started to Google means to get rid this supposed menace once and for all. Everyone wanted to point a finger at the reason for their pain. Everyone wanted to pass the blame.

The truth is, Bunny Rabbit died because someone decided to bring him out for a dousing of free vitamin A, inside a cage, in the middle of summer and then forgetting about the poor creature. So there it was, with no additional water and no additional food under the blazing sun the whole day. Bunny Rabbit died, not because the neighbor's cat did him in but due to heatstroke.

Still everybody insisted on blaming the neighbor's cat. The good thing was no one organized a posse to pursue the innocent suspect. It still freely roams the neighborhood to this day.

Even better, the anger and suspicion died soon after hearing my opinion on the matter. But I never heard anyone blaming themselves for their oversight.

Isn't this typical? Isn't it true that most of the time, we'd rather blame others for all the sad things happening to us than taking full responsibility for our actions? Isn't it true we'd rather accuse someone for our misfortune even if it was a consequence of our decision to remain miserable instead of choosing action and seek a better path? Isn't it true we would rather blame the causes of our addictions even if it was ourselves who willfully allowed our passions get the better of us?

Maybe it's time to stop blaming the neighbor's cat.

Purposeful Purchase

 Photo Credit: Austin Kleon

As an avid mountain biker, I am continuously awed by the leaps and bounds bike components have evolved. 21-speed was, once upon a time, more than what a mountain biker needs to get him up that hill no matter how gnarly and technical that single track is.

Considering the founding fathers of the sport started on a 1941 heavy steel framed BFGoodrich by Schwinn and running on single speed drive trains with no suspension at all except that provided by its sprung saddle and smooth balloon tires, 21-speed bikes back then was thought of as the future. That was until 24 then 27-speed drive trains arrived.

Today we either have a 30 or 20-speed drive trains as choices. This apart from the dizzying other possible upgrades on forks, shocks, wheels, hubs and so many other which qualifies more as a bling rather than a move towards pedal efficiency and all of them promising to make better mountain bikers of us.

What I personally discovered out there on the trail was what you have on your steed does not create for you a brave spirit. Engaging those ruts, roots, tight switchbacks, rock gardens, uphills and, steep drops will all depend on how big your mountain biking heart is and not whether you have a SRAM XX or a Shimano XTR.

A friend would constantly tell me that “wala sa pana iyan, nasa Indian” or loosely translated as “it is not the arrow but the archer”. I think so, too. But I also have to admit that it does provide some level of confidence having state-of-the-art working with you; like that remotely adjustable seat post for example. However, without commitment, without a biker's heart working for you specially out there on the trail, there will be no engagement and we may as well call ourselves posers and not bikers.

This brings to mind my biking mate Alex.

Alex, on the left, inside our favorite trail with Ram

If identified by the region he comes from he will surely be labeled a tightwad. But Alex has always been my mentor when it comes to purposeful purchases. He is my walking specifications expert, my component and upgrades evaluator and, my product specialist. All these qualities and more makes him someone you would want to listen to when that upgrade bug starts to work its poison in your system. He would not hesitate to give you an honest opinion complete with the necessary technical computations if need be. And yet with all his unbiased views, there are still those who insists they are thoughts of an Ilokano. Ah, it can get hilarious sometimes.

The thing that I most admire about Alex is his willingness to suggest what he loves to call as “bang for the buck” items. A Fox fork maybe the bees knees or even that XT Servo-Wave Disc Brakes. But for Alex everything is relative and whatever is efficient and gives you joy when you pedal, no matter how entry level it may be, will always be of premium value.

For example, a Duro wire beaded tire for him is of tremendous value. It may pale in comparison to a folding bead Schwalbe Nobby Nic, may cost pennies and, may be scoffed at by those who think expensive is better. But that it exceeded his expectation is good enough for Alex.

After all, what others think does not make him a less of a mountain biker nor his rig less of a mountain bike. What will happen on our next trail ride, whatever it is that we will overcome, be it our fear or that intimidating rut, or the feeling of success after conquering that drop without ever uncleating, will be a reflection of what is truly in his heart as a mountain biker. That goes for the rest of us as well, inside those trails for the sheer enjoyment of the sport we come to love.

And I just can't wait for that next time.

There Is Hope

Jose Rizal once said that the youth is the hope of the nation. He, I presume, saw idealism and enthusiasm as traits that will free a nation, a character that essentially describes the youth.

Looking at the landscape today, however, wants me to question that view. Perhaps lacking in parental direction, most of our youth would rather be stereotypes than strive to become someone extraordinary. Making a difference threatens most of them because it can make them an outcast. They believe in being a member of a tribe but not on leading it.

During our recent trip to Iloilo I met two young gentlemen who made a severe dent on my view. 

A cousin is one of them. Carl, as early as grade school already set a vision for himself. It helped that he had a very good friend who had lofty ambitions but that is, in my view, more a matter of the extraordinary attracting another extraordinary. Indeed, you draw unto yourself all that builds your beliefs.

Carl is the youngest child of my widowed aunt who struggled through every adversity to make sure she sends all her children to good schools. It was this maternal effort that influenced this young man to pursue a vision. And now he is living it.

Rather than seek employment in a 5-star hotel, Carl was intent on making a name for himself as a hotelier. Now a rising star in Iloilo, he together with several partners acquired a 3-storey hotel right in the middle of the city. They are currently renovating it.

Surprisingly, in the midst of the facelift, it is business as usual for them and business has never been brisk. It takes a special hands-on approach in order for people to patronize you while you are busy reconstructing and Carl has that gift. He is essentially an other-oriented person, willing to go the distance to pursue his goals, always accommodating. He is passionate in his beliefs, full of enthusiasm about the future and driven, characters all of one who is a cut above the rest.

He is definitely his mother's son and Iloilo is blessed to have someone like him.

Another is a nephew, Philip. It is easy mistaking him for someone who is happy-go-lucky, a Red Horse drinking buddy even gadget crazy. After all most of those in his age group identify themselves this way.

But here is a young man so focused on his priorities, takes his father's wishes to heart and who, through his actions, taught me an important lesson on legacy and simplicity.

We had the good fortune to have lunch at their family's seaside restaurant in Dumangas, Iloilo. The superb cuisine there is sure to make this a pilgrimage site for the discriminating foodie. The uninterrupted view of Siete Pecados in Guimaras adds to the pleasant experience of dining.

But what has truly amazed me was that Philip, the owner's son that he is, served us lunch. To translate that: he waited on us. While most would choose bossing themselves around to glaringly show their being heirs to the thrown, Philip chose to personally serve his customers. No pretense, just uninterrupted service with a smile, an honest offering of self.

We had the chance to chat on this attitude during their short stop at our hotel a few days later.

Philip said that it was his father, my first cousin, who mentored them to treasure their family's legacy, a legacy that was born of hard work by those who came before them. While it may be quite far from the city, they all learned to embrace, respect and nurture what is being handed down to them for its significance. The lights in Iloilo maybe be so alluring but it is the family business in Dumangas that shines more brightly for Philip and his siblings. And they are all willing to roll up their sleeves to keep it alive, a trait so missing from most youths of today.

Whenever I find myself in a mall these days, rather than view all the materialistic tendencies of the youth with contempt, I try to think of Carl and Philip. With them and their kind all is not lost. Indeed, this nation will be buoyed by its youth for among them are those who has vision, who believe it and who are willing to make them come true.

Thank you Carl. Thank you Philip.

Signs And Directions

Recently, a friend of ours was lamenting on how her son has soon given up being a busboy at the newly opened Mang Inasal just outside our village shortly into his probationary period. He quit because he finds the work difficult.

I remember the same mother telling us some 10 years before it was perfectly alright with her if he would get a job as a service crew at the nearby Mac Donald's. Cecille and I were shocked. Is she sending her son to school, break her back so she can afford his tuition fees merely for him to learn how to say, in proper diction, “Good Morning! Welcome to Mac Donald's!” and “Thank for coming!”?

I do not understand her latest lament. If we are lazy as parents then we should expect lazy children. If setting up signs and directions for our children to follow we see as trivial mainly because they are laborious, then it is our fault once they go berserk. If their view of the world is myopic, they just inherited that from us. What you sow, you reap. There should be no blaming them.

Cecille and I chose homeschooling for Carmella because, while still feeling her way, we wanted to raise the sign post along her journey ourselves. For most, however, all that task is left with the school. We have good schools but schools are not washing machine in themselves. We can not, no matter how much sacrifice we have to endure in meeting those rising school fees, expect our children to end up “whiter than white” after a full cycle. All that is still up to us.

The world is noisy and the noise keeps getting louder for children to hear their parents. It now becomes even more necessary to persevere when giving instructions for them to follow, constantly hoping that in the din it is our voice they will keep hearing.

"You Pay Peanuts......

….. You Get Monkeys.” This old Asian saying jumps to mind whenever I get the rough end of a bargain.

Just like what we had with a new local carrier Zest Air who chose to identify themselves as “Asia's Most Refreshing Airline”. If anything, their Airbus, even their chosen colors orange and green, are all that gives an impression as “refreshing” and tragically slips from there.

For this 82^nd birthday, we thought of giving Papa a trip to his home city Iloilo. Curious about their claim as being “Asia's Most Refreshing Airline”, their young fleet and their very attractive rates, Cecille decided the four of us will give Zest Air a try.

Our flight was scheduled for 5:10 in the afternoon. This was last May 23. Overly excited, we were at the airport shortly after 2PM.

Lamentably, we were only able to board our plane at around 8:15PM. It was 3 hours of senseless waiting. Their staff, when asked about the cause of the delay can only provide this flimsy, halfhearted explanation that their aircraft was still stuck in Cebu.

But it should take severe hounding from an exasperated couple before they finally made steps to update their screens in the airport lounge. Passengers were at lost but none among the Zest Air staff was decent enough to promptly inform the now restless crowd of the delay.

On similar situations, other airlines would immediately jump on the chance to provide value added service. They will do their best to go beyond providing refreshments to the listless passengers. They will make their presence felt. They will now turn an unwanted situation into one that will leave everyone feeling special. All will be forgiven, passengers turning into patrons.

No effort whatsoever with this airline.

Unquestionably irritating was the attitude of the ground crew. While those wearing black shirts, presumably the supervisors, would try to accommodate the complains, those in green were totally useless. One in particular was so busy on her phone while I was talking to her. I normally would have yelled at her and create a fuss but I was intent on making this trip angst free specially for my father.

As it was getting late, both my father and my daughter were getting hungry. There were limited selection being offered by the concessionaires so we left the airport lounge to head for the restaurants across the street. We were surprised hearing from those we met on the way out that delay is common with Zest Air. We thought this was local but those who met us in Iloilo told the same exact thing. Why management did not hear this seemingly loud observation escapes me.

The trip back to Manila was, surprisingly, on time. Sadly, some crew in green at the check-in counter in Iloilo exhibited the same arrogance as their counterparts in Manila. I was beginning to wonder if this was a Zest Air thing.

While those handling our luggage made all effort to secure our stuff, the gentleman issuing boarding passes retorted “Hindi po kami nade-delay! (We do not get delayed!)" when asked by Cecille if the flight was on schedule. I can only think that for this person Manila might as well be on another time zone. Either this or Zest Air is in complete denial.

Cheap rates does not give anyone the right to abuse. Cheap rates is not a license for arrogance, to be “bastos”. Cheap rates does not mean being cheap. Cheap rates, if anything, is to attract people over towards you and the value service you sincerely believe only you can provide.

People look up to those who make the best with little resources. It will be difficult for it will demand one to seriously think out of the box. But it creates brand loyalty. You do not have to spend an amount equivalent to a small nation's budget to advertise. Your customers will willingly do it for you. And that will be louder than any huge billboard along EDSA.

During this time when competition devours competition, paying peanuts does not have to mean your customers getting monkeys. In fact, here is an opportunity to tell the world why you are better than the rest.

But sorry Zest Air, me and my friends will no longer ride with you.

Thank You!

" Thank You!"

Two words that for some means more than being appreciated. For me personally, “Thank You!” is:

• an affirmation, the highlighting of all that is good in me, few they may be

• telling me you will always make time for this relationship even if it can only be as brief as in saying these two words

• a prompting of the heart

But these days, maybe overwhelmed by everyday affairs, greetings, even those that are deep and personal, are seen as a given. And so responses like “Thank You!”, unless related to paid service, has become more like a figure of speech, a stoic and automatic response.

So we ask: are we now exceedingly busy to remember those who took the time to remind us how important we are to them?

Do we now think we are extra special that some remembering, specially coming from the well off, is more better than the rest and that they carry more weight than ones from people who have less than us?

Have we seen “Thank You!” as empty phrases like “How Are You?”, often said when we are left with nothing sensible to say, that we have completely taken them off our list of good expressions?

I have to admit I am guilty and more. Today that I am turning 53, I will make amends. Once again, from deep within my heart, allow me to say “THANK YOU!”

“Thank You!” for remembering and reminding me of my special days when I myself have forgotten.

“Thank You!” for taking time to put dates in your calendars, set your phones to early morning alarms hoping you'd help start someone's day with gratitude and cheer.

“Thank You!” for all of you who said a special prayer when the odds where stacked against me.

“Thank You!” for the unexpected help during those times when I do not know what else to do.

“Thank You!” for appreciating this person.

“Thank You!!” for that shoulder when I need one to cry on.

“Thank You!” for all the hugs that made sure someone is with me in my corner.

“Thank You!” for allowing me to touch your lives through my writing and my incessant talking.

“Thank You!” for encouraging me to keep going with the one and only thing I know I am good at.

“Thank You!” for your patience.

“Thank You!” for helping me grow.

“Thank you!” for continuously reading my blogs even if sometimes they are mere rumblings of a frustrated soul.

“Thank You!” for teaching me the pentatonic scale.

“Thank You!” for our coffee moments.

“Thank You!” for braving those trails with me.

“Thank You!” for helping me put Efcie together.

“Thank You!” for Efcie.

“Thank You!” for helping me make sure Papa will enjoy his Iloilo vacation.

“Thank You!” for laughing with me for no reason at all but because we are cousins.

“Thank You!” for making sure I am up for that Baguio challenge.

“Thank you!” for being the great person that you are.

Finally, perhaps my biggest, “Thank You!” for trusting me as your friend.

Justin Bieber And The Why's On Being Off-Centered

Recently, Justin Bieber was in town. One mother, a friend of ours, was willing to sacrifice the month's food allowance for a ticket because her 9-year-old was at her wits end. They were already at the concert gates when suddenly the mom held back because she never expected those tickets would cost more than her estimate.

Exasperated with the unexpected turn of events, the daughter sobbed, unable to comprehend how $47 can be more important than a few hours with Justin Bieber.

While this uncompromising and immature reaction comes from a child, some adults actually behave similarly albeit on a different level. In fact, that a child would come up with such argument can be traced to parents unable to relate to what is truly essential, a view so ironic specially when one considers that this is a country where the daily cost of living for a family of six is around $10, based on data from the National Wage Commission.

But how do you explain that to a 9-year-old who thinks the world for her will end if she does not get to see this concert, even from the most cheapest seat in the house?

Lucky for our friend, a good Samaritan saw the daughter's distress. He thought he needed a better seat, which essentially equates to a more expensive ticket, and so gave his current to her. For free. I am impressed because amidst the screaming of delirious fans, someone still heard a child's voice.

And so both mother and daughter ended the evening feeling euphoric, but surely more so for the mom. It is not everyday we encounter acts of random kindness.

But what do you actually do when, except for you, all your mates in school watched Justin Bieber and talk nothing but? I think it is all too much for a 9-year-old to handle. So rather than put their kid in such awkward situation, parents, whether it causes a severe dent on their budget, buy a ticket.

All this pushed me to start a mini survey through my Facebook page. I asked friends if they will, granting they have the funds for it, buy their 9-year-old a ticket to a Justin Bieber concert and why.

Almost everyone said they will. One mother even paid nearly $400 for it, justifying the purchase as a once in a lifetime event.

But a comment stood out like a sore thumb because it was the only one opposed to the idea, even seen by a few as off-centered hence grossly unpopular. Simply, this gentleman believes the cost can not justify the expense.

He is with the opinion they are better spent on books or given away to help ones who have less. Learning is, for him, above all. And after reading the text of Rico Hizon's speech during the Toastmaster's International District 75 Annual Conference in Manila entitled "Being Proud of our won Filipino-English Diction", I have to agree with him. 

While going for a ticket may be perceived as being the best and the easiest, here opens an opportunity for real parenting, a time to really connect and to communicate.

Here is a time to talk about values and explain that, to borrow from Seth Godin, "Popular is almost never a measure of impact, or genius, or art. Popular rarely correlates with guts, hard work or a willingness to lead...."

Here is a chance to explain what really matters. And at an age when guidance is key, there is no better setting. We may still end up buying the ticket but the opportunity at parenting never wasted

I read that the creative few you usually find off the center. Eccentric is the most common term used. But off center, in fact, is where genius often emerges.

So to close, let me share this.

My daughter is often seen as unusual, even thought of as incapable of being a social creature, all because she is being home schooled. But more than any kid, she is fearless when it comes to expressing her art. She does not have to look at what the other is doing before starting on her goals. She would rather be in flannel shirts, jeans and high cut Chucks. For her, independence is king.

Yes, she is not mainstream, a non-ordinary.

Importantly for her, she does not believe she has to be in a Justin Bieber concert in order to be in. Being herself is enough.

Simple And Beautiful

Cecille, very impressed with a nephew's new girlfriend, told him how she found her simplicity truly attractive. Perhaps overwhelmed with the everyday “fakeness”, she found the beauty refreshing and Cecille can not help voice her compliment.

Ironically, her nephew took the comment as hostile. Cecille found herself defending her view and I felt really sad for my wife. While she had the eye to see beauty at its core, others insists it should be complicated.

I find it sad we have evolved into someone who think that the covering, no matter how horrendous looking they may be, is far more important than the person being covered. And so because no one noticed that new shoe or this new bag in the office today is plenty good reason to give it away. Even if that mini dress, which shamelessly expose those hams, gets proudly worn just the same because it is a Vera Wang.

I find it sad that we have defined beauty as something outside ourselves, to see simplicity as next to nothingness. And so we insist on having those noses and legs and breasts on our portraits perfected through Photoshop. Glutathione has now become the wonder drug for the many who are confused and cosmetic surgeons the new gods.

Indeed, we have become complicated. And the more complicated we are, the more important and beautiful we see ourselves. We hate looking at that person in the mirror immediately after waking up in the morning because who we see is not the one we imagined us to be.

Such a heavy luggage to carry, me thinks. Even so it drives us farther away from our core which is where real beauty lies: unblemished and uniquely ours.

An artist nephew once wrote on his Facebook wall: “I do not like slim jeans because I hate seeing sausages.” Just because the world says it is cool should we also define it as beautiful, even if they make ridiculous creatures of us.

Beauty, if one means real beauty, need not be complicated.

Papa

I do not know if this is what nature dictates, if this is how we, finite beings, should evolve.

I noticed that as one grows much older, we seem to become more and more sensitive to all the faults and misgivings surrounding us. And rather than take action ourselves, we mouth tons of criticisms on the flaws that we never cease to see. Sadly, we refuse to move beyond that, to act on the situation ourselves, perhaps given to the thought that at our age being critical is a right.

And whenever we are left with very little choice then forced to take action, we hire someone to do the work for us. I think this is so we can continue mouthing criticisms which, for some, has become a sport.

I find myself becoming more and more like this.

Which is why I find Papa quite unique and very special. At nearly 82 years old, rather than criticize, he would quietly analyze and then act. He is one of those who believes that if you want things done, you better get a go at it.

(Photo credit: Kyrke B. Jaleco)

At 82, Papa would go around DIY shops to research on color themes, seek out the best brand and then get the stuff he needs to start his project. And so our home in Baguio remains as beautiful and homey as it was the first time we moved in.

At 82, while the rest in his age group hire a cabinet maker, Papa will work on building the cabinet himself.

At 82, except for the roof, he would paint the whole house, inside and outside.

Once he saw an expert install a built-in closet with louvered doors. Seeing how beautiful they were, he took on building louvered doors by himself for one of the closets at home. Though he later admitted it was some challenge he got himself into, he did finish them. It was finely crafted that one will not suspect it was built by someone without experience, by someone who just believed he could.

At 82, Papa's mind is constantly at work for ideas on home improvement. He knows which type of faucets will work, what parts to get for your plumbing, why this sort of material work best, which tools will rightly apply; all opinions drawn from personal experience.

He also knows which fertilizer will suit the type of orchids my late mother left to his care. In fact, he knows how to propagate them. He is pretty adept in using compost in caring for his small garden. Not bad for a retired Army Colonel.

And so our home in Baguio continues to be a comfortable place to be in.

His wisdom, as I later learned, came from humbly asking the experts. Surprising at his age, Papa has become even more receptive to fresh inputs and continues to be. Indeed, his lack of understanding does not intimidate him. He loves listening and learning from those who know their craft, regardless whether they are half his age, even younger. What was always important for him is that he is learning and it is through his humility that he continues to build wonderful things with his hands.

Papa may have his moments and can get pretty impatient with those who put no premium on their work. But people's reactions to everyday situations are reflections of their beliefs. For Papa, nothing else works but a job well done. And at 82, he still lives by this creed.

I was in Baguio a few days back and was quietly listening to his stories. The journey he has taken and the heights he has reached will always awe and inspire. I can not help thinking that I have a big shoe to fill here.

It is a different thing to criticize, another to act. The former, from my view, comes from an empty heart while the latter from an indomitable spirit. The last best describes Papa.

Yes, I am deeply honored I am my father's son.

True Gifts

Recently I received a gift. It's one of those you never dream ever landing on your lap, that leave you gasping for breath out of disbelief and then makes you cry.

No, it is not that dream house up the hill. Not yet. But it is just as grand and very much up my mountain.

And to receive it from someone totally unexpected, (someone who until recently was just known to me as a dear friend deeply devoted to his advocacy, of unbelievable humor, hailing from some far away Texas) truly makes it a thing of deep value.

There are gifts that hold you spellbound for weeks, even for the rest of your life. Like the gift of your first born, her first smile, her first laugh and her first “Papa!”. Gifts like her first ballet recital, her first bike ride without those trainers, her first lap of the pool and her triumph over leukemia.

And then there are gifts that remind you the true meaning of friendships, of the self-giving that still abounds. Priceless gifts they are for they came from deep within the giver's heart, born out of deep faith on the one receiving the gift.

They are special gifts that makes the recipient want to give back, to be generous, to pay it forward. They lead hearts like my own to seek goodness in all things, appreciate all things, grateful for all things.

A favorite author wrote in a blog that “A true gift is a heartfelt connection, something that changes both the giver and the recipient.”

I couldn't agree more.

Values

So who administers Carmella's exams?
I do.
And who grades her?
Me.
W-H-A-T????!!!!!

Yes, I get this horrified reaction from people every time I talk about homeschooling.

Most homeschooling parent take on the daunting task of teaching their children because they believe that learning is far more important than ranking. And so with no teaching certificates nor mentoring experience whatsoever, they embark on this journey filled with so much challenge with their hearts as their only beacon. Some have even given up their careers because their children is now the goal.

Maybe Carmella is totally different from ones coming from regular school. She may view the world differently from the next kid, choose a different tool for her art and may be lacking the sophistication or the finesse of one coming from an exclusive girl's school.

But that she can read, do multiplication and division, express her feelings in water color without art school, openly expressive of her creative mind, dance ballet, focused in spite of pressure, independent, at ease around older people, be a charming and loving grand daughter, who treasures friendships deeply and more, all of it born outside regular classroom environment, speaks much of this father's heart.

And this heart discovered it is all about our experiences and what we learned from those experiences that defines us. This is real education.

In this world where competition is fierce and has become the norm, being at the top of the heap has become, sadly, synonymous to success. And in the desperation to put ourselves there, it is often our values that takes a beating. Because of the rush, we can no longer identify with what is true and honest and find integrity a strange word.

Which is perhaps why people are so suspicious about parents homeschooling and then rating their children. Maybe because most of us now find being honest as a truly formidable task.

But when we decide on eroding our values just so we can position our children over and above the rest, no one else losses the most but them. What does that make of us, of them?

So I continue homeschooling Carmella. And surprisingly, not only does it teach her the essential, less the fun fare, but the whole exercise also teaches this father how to be true to himself.  

Are We Afraid Of Giants?

Are we afraid of giants? No, not the Gulliver sort of character but rather the breed of people deeply focused on pursuing something bigger than themselves?

Do we shy away from nobility, a class which for me, are those having a sense of cause? Are we intimidated by their selflessness because it leads us to examine our own sense of worth?

I use to feel this way until Jojo came into the picture. Better known among his friends as GKJo, Jojo has always impressed me with the work he continues to invest on Gawad Kalinga.

There is nothing that will stop him in his pursuit to make things better for his fellow man. Be it joining a marathon, a bike ride that calls attention to his work for the poor because of the livery he decided to be painted on his ride, or by any means that will highlight the mission he truly believes in.

And being the giant that he is, all that enthusiasm he carries, without fail, makes those who listen to him want to reflect on their own sense of purpose.

In the two weeks he has been here, I learned a lot about passion than I ever imagined. Jojo tore a ligament on one knee after the last marathon he joined, an agonizing act carried out for the sole purpose of bringing focus to his chosen advocacy. For a while he struggled with the question “Why?” only to smother all the doubts with “Because no one else will.”

It is a pure class act to rise above your set backs and seek out other ways to continue your work on empowering the helpless and the poor, to search for avenues on how you can bring dignity in their otherwise forgotten existence and to finally cheer them on when they rise above their poverty. This is true nobility at work.

I never had a true understanding of what passion is. I always thought that doing what makes you feel good is passion enough and so I find my biking fitting that definition.

I saw passion as exclusively about the self, confined to personal happiness. I never qualified passion as a selfless act of giving until it hurts and then still have lots of humor left. I never thought of passion as making a difference, of accomplishing work that truly matters in spite the daunting journey up ahead.

I never saw passion as a means to inspire other people to do acts of greatness.

Now I know better.

2011

Simon Sinek has written this on his Facebook wall: "The challenge of the unknown future is so much more exciting than the stories of the accomplished past."

If there is anything we weary life travelers need it is the enthusiasm to search for possibilities, to be excited about the future.

My wife constantly nag me for lacking the skills when it comes to huddling with relatives during family gatherings. She finds it bad manners that I shy away from their discussion and she is right. It shows self righteousness, a wiser-than-thou attitude. And it does not a good in-law make. So these days, I try.

Not that I am against looking back. Sure there are good memories to hark back to which leads one to appreciate the present blessings. What actually kept me at the distance for so long is the expected re-hash of stories from the last family reunion. 

My difficulty in college, and in most meetings I get invited to after that, was to stay interested on talks that are a remake of what I already heard before. So there I am, dozing off which I find more productive than being awake and hating the speaker.

It is for the same reason why I'd rather be somewhere else, like the buffet table, during family reunions because I find peace there, no hating anyone for not knowing what else to tell but the nth repeat of his escapades of 1979.

But slowly I am beginning to understand. Indeed, there is something about the future that people would rather choose looking back. The unknown has always been intimidating and there is no comfort in that thought.

A cousin was asking what business to put up. For a start, he was consulting the wrong person since I have been struggling finding answers to that same question for as long as I can remember. Still, I love this cousin and told him several options. I really felt he was looking for much needed input.

Which was why I was not ready for what came next. I did not expect that for every suggestion I will present him, he would emphasize on what will go wrong. In the end, I thought that no matter how much advice I will give, there will be a setback of some sort he will surely come up with. So I stopped, wondering if this man was really searching for opportunities or a debate.

Whenever I start encouraging friends to save up for a house, a car, an investment, the answer will always be a flowery metaphor that, simply put, says “I can't”. Much like the cousin, I do not know how they still “can” when they have already sealed and stamped it with an “I can't”. And I think that just like the folks in our family reunions, they are anxious more than excited of what lies ahead.

There are reasons why life goes on as it is. And one that each new year brings up so clearly is “chance”. We are offered a chance to make things right, to make amends, to hope, to be better which we should grab without hesitation.

So once again here is a year of possibilities, of challenges that though threatened by how much poise we may lose while trying to cross it, we will give it go just the same. 

Perhaps more importantly, here is a year of opportunities to do stuff that matters, a year that can bring about a change on how we view ourselves. And that is what I believe we should be excited about.