Glad to Be of Service

Life is short. And as a mortal, I want to do a lot of things. This is not necessarily bad, but neither am I saying that it is good.

However, the plethora of things that I want to do is as varied as my unsorted emotions, hopes and aspiration. Every time I make an effort to think, I end up with a lot of drastic ideas skirting through and fro my confused brain.

For instance, when I wake up each morning, the only sure thing that I would is to make my cup of coffee for the day. After that, I would sit in front of my table, power up my laptop, play some songs for awhile while sipping my coffee and I would end up working on a project that first catches my attention.

I may or may not finish it but usually, I would just wallow around, think on and off, wander around ideas and projects, discard and open documents, obsessed myself with novels I have not read and before I knew it, it's already five in the morning and oh gosh, I have not prepared for my sessions for the day.

Then, I would turn off my laptop, start jotting down possible topics to discuss, search for materials, handouts and other references I may need...or I would end up turning on the laptop again, getting distracted over the ungainly sight of the wallpaper and then, while changing the desktop background, I would realize that I was supposed to print out the budgeted modules I have been working on...

After that, there would be that 15-minute race to get ready for work. Around 7:30, I would be ready or unready and on my way to the designated center for the day carrying a rather big bag of assorted materials, modules and unfinished notes and sometimes, even my laptop.

Like right now, I am supposed to attend an 8:00 AM session with my learners but here I am, at 7:08, working on this little composition for a blog I intend to post later... And at the same time, I am listening to DYVS and getting all distracted since I have not read my Bible in almost four weeks now.

Again, at the same time, I am also thinking that I need to study Karl Marx philosophy, read The Compassionate Teacher that is lying on the desk just beside me, and go through the stack of classic novels I have purchased recently but did not have time to read since I was too busy with nothing to bother with it. And then again, I am also thinking if an 18-page introduction to a source book Nanay and I are working on would be okay - the source book is but a compilation of all the notes she had gathered and used in her TLE 1 class...I am encoding them and adding more info from online sources...It's not a happy task for someone as hyper intellectual as I am (hehe), but it will have its reward, in Midway (yey).

Anyway, it is 7:12 AM and I really must start jotting down notes for todays sessions. Thank God for ready made PBEBI (Providing Basic Education to BJMP-PCDJ Inmates) Session Guides, I have my lecture notes for the session.... Tsk, now I am off to thinking about what new lessons to prepare for our PBEBI sessions and what topics to include. I also need to buy a class record (one was not available at DAFA Goods yesterday) and start encoding data of the learners profile as well as filing all their outputs together.

May utok is one big gual just right now. But it is fun, making oneself worthwhile. With all these, when will I ever have the time to write my IIS novels?

But then again, to quote Mae Sheilou Conserva, I am doing all this because it makes me feel "better". She's right. I did not realize it until she pointed it out to me...

Love and Other Drugs (My Life Version): Part 1

It's valentines day tomorrow and my post this time will be on romantic love.I know.I have never been in any romantic entanglements before. I am not ashamed to admit I have never had a boyfriend.

When it comes to talks about love life and such, I usually keep mum. But when asked, I am honest to say I never had one before. Yes, I love God, I love my family, I love books, I love reading, writing and teaching and I also love to sleep and eat but I have never had the romantic kind, since birth.

And then, questions would start pouring in (making me wish that I never said I never had a boyfriend in the first place).Old classmates from high school and college, colleagues, friends and other acquaintances predictably react in a similar manner.The questions would come and I would lightly respond with half-truths and witticisms and other happy, happy responses.

They would ask:
1. Why have you never had a boyfriend - ever?
Usual answer: (with a shrug and a self-deprecating grin) Look at me!
Answer with best friends: (with a shrug and a wistful smile) I am waiting for the right man for me.
Sarcastic Answer: Who needs men?

2. Did anyone every court you?
Honest answer: Nobody bothered.

3. Why? (I often ask myself why they have that follow-up question).
Usual Answer: Look at me (again). I have no illusions about my looks and I understand that men are attracted to attractive packages, that's why God designed women with all those characteristics which is not apparent in this (referring to my body) package.
Another answer: They are probably intimidated because I don't look approachable at all?Yep. Men are highly sensitive creatures and as such would not take too kindly to feeling inferior.
Honest Answer: I really do not know.

4. How does it feel to never have a boyfriend?
Usual answer: I don't mind at all.(a non-answer, I mean, look at the question)
Witty Answer: I really would not know the difference, would I?
Honest Answer: Sometimes, I feel sad because that's one thing in life that I have missed out on - sharing myself with another mortal who appreciates me not because of our blood relation but because of something else..

5. Do you want to have a boyfriend?
Honest answer: I don't know. It depends on the boyfriend.

6. What kind of boy are you attracted to?
Sometimes Answer: I prefer men over boys (I really would not know the difference).
Honest Answer: I think I would like to be with an intelligent and confident man who is sincere, honest, loyal,mature (not old, mentally mature)...and is centered in God.

7. You never really had a boyfriend?
Well, darn. I often wonder why they would not believe me. It is the truth. I have never had a boyfriend, not even thru text, chat, or any other correspondence. I am not a complete innocent (I read things a nice little girl is not supposed to read, you know), but as one co-teacher said when we were trying to beat each other over knowledge on the amorous arts, what I have is purely theoretical/technical knowledge with no application (and I quipped: Who am I going to practice it with?)

8. Do you wish you have one?
Honest answer: I don't know. I would not say I am absolutely happy with being single. But I would not say this is a sad state for me because to be honest, there really are a lot of things to do in life and I have a lot of responsibilities as the eldest in the family. The man I end up with must understand that there are things I have to do and one of them is to see my siblings settled well first. I would feel guilty if I could not do that because I have been selfish. But sometimes, every time I mention the possibility of having a boyfriend (just to sort of threaten my siblings so that they would study hard), they will just laugh at me and make jokes. Anyway, I am not the type who settles for something because it is convenient and at hand. When I fall in love, I know I would fall hard. Besides, I really am the loyal type and would love to marry my first boyfriend and make him the one and the only in my life (I am a romantic).

This one question was asked, for the first time, just last week. And it surprised me for I really had no inkling about it at all.

Ma'am Letlet: Ven, what if someone courts you now?
Me: (Laughed) Joke, ma'am.
Ma'am Letlet: Tuod. Remember before, I asked you about him.I texted if you know this guy. He was once your student.How would you feel if a student courts you?
Me: (Are you serious?)Haha..
Ma'am Letlet:Tuod, ven. He told me he was your student and I told him I know you. Kilala mo si <....>
Me: Yes, mam. He was, indeed, my student before. But you know the rules. No fraternizing between students and teachers.
Ma'am Letlet: Ti, he is not your student now. He said he wanted to court you but he is afraid to offend you. How would you feel if he did?
Me: (Smiles). It's nice to know someone finds me attractive enough to contemplate that but reall...he was once my student and he will always be my student. Sa mata ko, my students are my sons and daughters. I see them that way (because I may never have sons and daughters in this lifetime)...
Ma'am Letlet: What do you think about him? He is cute.
Me: I remember. I know him and I like the kid. He works hard but as far as romantic attachments...I have my standards.
Ma'am Letlet: Sometimes,we have to stoop down, settle, if we want to be happy.
Me: I don't want to settle, Ma'am. When I eventually have a boyfriend or marry, I want it to be with a man I honestly love. I do not do experiments. I know what I want when I see it. That was what I meant by standards. I am not looking for handsome, rich and etc. I want a man I can respect and love and share myself with...
Ma'am Letlet: (she said something about standards and choices which I did not really register)
Me: I have a crush, that's why. And I want my partner to be just like this guy...
(So the sharing began...but that is another story...)

I was flattered because that student found me attractive despite the package. I could say he probably liked the person he saw inside but I would not count on it. I have often had crushes on impressive teachers I met over the years but that emotion went only as far as that.

When it comes to my students, I am strict with the I do not fraternize code. My students are my children. I love them like my own kids because I share a lot of myself with them.

So this Valentines day will probably be spent eating fishballs, on my own.But, I will have it no other way, until the right man, the right time and the right moment comes.

But I will live a full-life so that if it never comes, I could still say, I have had no regrets...

The Human Worth Scale and the God-Shaped Hole in Us

In this day and age, a person's worth is usually measured in several ways. People value someone because of certain characteristics and contributions that she took pains to hone in order to feel worthy, happy, fulfilled and satisfied with her lot on earth.

Who would have bothered remembering the gay tutor turned playwright (Shakespeare), the drunkard author who died of rabies (Poe), the spinster lady in white who lived in isolation (Dickinson), the painter who cut off his ear (Van Gogh), or the drama behind a depressed college drop out who went out to connect the whole world with the product of his depression (Zuckerberg). What do we care about them if they did not do what they have done?

A person is usually deemed worthy because of his so-called contribution to human progress...

For instance, a person is worthy because she is decorative. She has all the pretty, frilly outer accoutrements that could please and satisfy the eye, make trends possible, break and create fashion rules, and make wealth a little bit more palatable. External worth pays a lot. Models, actors and actresses, celebrities make billions because of this.

Another way to measure a person's worth is through his intelligence. The intellectual scale also pays a lot. The magnitude of the changes that occurred on earth was caused by the mental marathons of geniuses who made technology, industrialization and modernization possible. The things we take for granted nowadays are things people had to do without before. But, because of the need to feel satisfaction over life, the need to fill up the emptiness, computers were made, the internet started linking people all over the world, and facebook made face to face conversation unnecessary.

A person may also be deemed worthy if he can provide an emotional crutch to emotionally-limping beings. Therapists, Oprah, self-help gurus, new age wonders, meditation and yoga instructors have all made much over the previous decade. Who would have thought that in our dire circumstances, we would turn to wonder advisors for help and assistance, mere mortals that they are.

Then, we also have to count that really talented people who made art the measure of their worth. Before they became known as artists, they were crazy, ruined beings who were floating through life's existence like nothing really matters. Art became a crutch to make life bearable and at times, even possible. Now, man's art history is cluttered with the creations of madmen, social pariahs, and empty husks who lost their souls in search for its immortality.

How about the saintly one's who gave up their lives in their fight for something? The warrior who fought against invading barbarians to protect his tribe, the soldier who gave up his life to save that of others, the hero who started an uprising to free his country, the maiden who donned battle arms to fight the wars of men, the women who took women's right to the fore, making a pseudo semblance of equality possible...What of these warriors who went down human history and made names in bold, blood red ink?

They were all known, made worthy, remembered because they have done something out of their lives. Their very lives were celebrated, their very esteem lifted, and the very frailty of their characters were reduced into flaws which makes them adorably human.

We feel pride to know that we are related to them. We feel a bursting song in our chest everytime we think of how they have overcome human frailty and made man triumph over time.

But have they really?

What does it profit a man to gain the whole world if he looses his own soul. The Bible says.

There is a god-shaped hole in all of us. It was created to make us crave Him above all else. In our desperation, we have filled it with our own sense of self-importance and worth.

We die feeling pseudo satisfaction but never really satisfied. The feeling of being used permeates us and we wonder: "Will I be unloved, unnoticed if I did not have what I had to be useful to these people who say they value me?"

That's the funny thing about our conceptions of self-worth. It does not come from the self. It comes from others. We reflect the worth they tag us with and we feel miserable, never really realizing that someone out there loves us for who and what we are, broken beings that we really are.

His love is all that counts, all that matters, all that we need to fill that awfully, big-shaped hole that nothing can really ever fill...