Be Honest

You just finished writing a guide for an emodule and once more, that sad little feeling in your heart starts making itself felt again.

What is this, you wonder. Why is this here in this heart that is unencumbered by any emotional and mortal ties. What is this quiet little ticking that makes itself felt at certain moments? What is this thing that sometimes makes itself apparent with a pained little moan or a solitary tear during unguarded times?

You know you forget that when you are holding a session. You after the adrenaline rush of doing something which you believed has helped someone.

But now, what is this quiet little ticking bomb in your heart that seems to beat oh so subtly amidst the shallow beating of your heart?

You Miss It

 

Of course you know about it and of course you miss it.

For a year (or is it two now?), you missed sitting on a chair, facing another teacher, while your classmates are almos zoning out in sleepiness. But you know, deep inside, you know, how you miss it. How you utterly feel the urge to be the one to just listen and be fascinated by the things you never realized until it was pointed out to you.

 

For a time, you gave up the opportunity of sitting in a classroom because you felt compelled to work for others. It was a good and noble cause but now, you sense that restlessness driving you again. That restlessness and thirst for something sublime and something utterly profound that you are unable to grasp.

 

You miss the college halls that you once traipsed to and fro in your quest to become an educator. You miss the smell of newly bought textbooks. You miss the excessive chatter of seatmates and friends before a class begins. You miss eating that weird concoction of animal entrails with red chili in it (whatever that primitive fare is). You miss the daily hourly bus rides, the rush for jeepneys, the hush stillness of a library on a sleepy afternoon. You miss sitting on benches underneath trees.

 

You just miss the scent, the taste and the feeling of learning amidst the hallowed halls of a century old school that fostered your dreams and drove your ambitions.

A Close Encounter : RI’s GSE Program

 

It’s not something that I personally planned on applying for. In fact, I had never seriously considered applying for any scholarship abroad since I already feel quite content and happy where I am now, thank you very much.  But a mentor, one who has helped guide my career, PP Dr. Helen P. Banez of the Rotary Club of Metro Passi, convinced us to apply for the GSE program of the Rotary Club.

The Rotary Club’s Group Study Exchange program (GSE) aims to immerse a team of four young professionals, ages 21-40 years old,  to different parts of the world. For a month or so, the said team members will experience what it is like to live as professionals in that said corner of the world. True to Rotary’s ideals, the said programs aims to promote goodwill and friendship among people.

After a Club screening and interview conducted last year, the four of us were ranked and sponsored by the RCMP for further screening. Dr. Banez personally made enquiries regarding the screening process and a year later, specifically last August, she told us to be ready because we will be having an interview with a panel in order to determine the representatives for three zones of the club.

RCMP was advised to choose only two representatives and Lorena, a fellow Mobile Teacher, and I prepared to take the journey.

It was something that caught me unprepared because my mind was then on other things. But, to cut the story, I qualified for the District Screening which was conducted yesterday at Bacolod City’s O Hotel.

The RCMP provided a financial assistance of P2,500. Dr. Banez urged me to checked-in at the hotel to reduce the pressure and stress from travelling to Bacolod City.

The interview itself was a nerve wracking endeavour and the questions were intellectually crafted in such a manner as to really test the mettle of the participants. Right after I finished the interview, I did sense that I would not qualify. For one, the 14 others who qualified for the District Interview were very much in the advanced levels of their career paths. They have Master’s Degrees and Docotorate degrees under their belts. There was a practicing physician from Roxas, a CPA from Roxas too, an Administrator or something from Zamboanga, a professor of langauges from Zamboanga, and others of the same caliber. There were also several teachers who made the list.

Here is the criteria used:

20% Knowledge of Profession

20% Knowledge of Country

20% Knowledge of Rotary

10% Personality, Appearance and Attitude

10% Leadership Abilities

It was an experience that opened my eyes to a lot of things. It made me understand that I still have a lot to learn, a lot to undertake in life. Oregon was a somewhat distant dream but it has opened my eyes to realizing so much about where I am right now, what is going on with my career,how and what I am as a Filipino and how I am about as a person socially moving in the world.

Tied to your Table

You sit there, staring at the blank screen and the blinking cursor of a silly flickering purple butterfly. Beside you, in the corner table, are four pieces of coffee-stained cups. On the other end are brown enveloped containing outputs you have to check.

An unopened lesson plan book lay beside you, taunting you with the half-done plans within it. Tears threatened to fall.

You want to go out. You want to leave. You want to walk out in the sun on that bright morning.

You hear your mother shrilly demanding you go down and be a part of the raunchy household. Your sister screams in frustration. She still had her classes but she can’t leave because of the unwashed dishes.

Your brother angrily jaunts off, carelessly leaving a house that is no longer a home.

The house settles into a nice quiet. Everyone has gone. And still, there your are, on your table, before the window, the sun burning your tears as they keep falling while you keep staring at the blinking cursor that never managed to move by itself.

For Convenience’s Sake

 

Sometimes, you do things merely for convenience.

One moment, you get pressured by everything around you to commit some “white” lies and for convenience’s sake, you follow the dictates of your baser urges. You convince yourself that what you are doing is simply typical of the world. That what you are doing is actually harmless. It would hurt no one. No one would know anyway. Just you and a few persons jaded enough to understand that this is just the way we do it.

Everyone is doing it anyway! So, if everyone is doing it, that makes what we are doing right, right?

And then, you keep walking. All the lies keep piling on top of each other. Still, to cover the ugly stain in your heart, you lie more to yourself. You become immune to the lies and lying comes so easily.

It then becomes your way as well. No one knows anyway, just a few people who understand what its like.

And then, the lies cloud your senses. You no longer hear, see or feel beyond the lies you made. You no longer feel joy because you cannot feel it through the thick layer covering your body. You no longer feel anything beyond weariness, despair at having to keep up with all the façade of decent living.

And then, something happens. A Hand decides He has had enough. He plucks you out of the mire you live in, and brings you to the glaring light of day. He rubs mud on your eyes and tells you to open them . You blink. The light hurts your eyes.

He makes you face a magic mirror and you see, your scarred body, your pitifully small heart, beating faintly in your chest. You gasp in horror at the horrible monster before you. But no sound comes from your mouth. The lies, they are all reflected upon your frail, fragile form. The horror of the lies you committed astounds you.

And it all started with just one, single lie – merely for convenience’s sake…

Adoration Chapel

A moment is really made up of a whole lot of moments. Perchance, you see a person sitting before you, just staring at the nothingness before her.


Don't you find yourself wondering what actually led this person to this moment? Don't you also think that this person just might be wondering why you are here, in this isolated corner of the world where she actually hoped to be alone. You were irritated to find her there but had you not considered that she may also be irked to find you in the same place?

You two are currently at an axis where both your moments led you.It was a shared moment in a life of moments. A moment if rejection led her there, a moment of sadness led you there.

Why not strike up a conversation? But then, you wonder, maybe she would not want to be disturbed and then, do I really want to disturb myself enough to disturb her silence?So, you two keep quiet, together in that moment, in that isolated moment that a whole lot of moments led you to.

The time for you to leave comes, and you stand. But you hesitate and turn to her. You don't exactly know what moments led her here but you drop a prayer to the One who can hear, the One who knows, the One who sees our moments as if they were imprinted on rolls and rolls of films before Him: Bless her, Lord.

She looks up and smiles at you and you smile too.

It was just a moment, just a smile. But in it were the whole moments of your life.