Homily Delivered During the Baccalaureate Mass of Lower Basic Education, Colegio de San Jose

Colegio de San Jose

Baccalaureate Mass

March 26, 2009

Good morning Sisters, Teachers, Dear Graduates.

In accordance to your graduation theme, allow me to share to you some thoughts about the life of a prophet. Let’s trip down a little in memory lane particularly what the Old Testament has to say about the prophets.

Since the earliest times, there has been a tension between God’s will and our often sinful and selfish response. Israel, despite the fact that she has been the chosen nation and a favoured race, remained to be enslaved by her iniquities. There was a constant invitation for her to act solely out of love and goodness but she didn’t really give an appropriate human response to this call for moral choice and responsibility. Hence, God sent a prophet, the ethical watchdog par excellence. A prophet should not be seen only as a radical innovator or a rebel of an existing human law or tradition. Rather, he recalls tradition to the people, showing them how God had acted in the past, and what the covenant had taught and insisting that Israel should not forget the freedom of God to act in new ways or the faithfulness of God that would not overlook repeated violations of the covenant. The compelling words of the prophets became relevant because Israel always forgets, and forgetting negates the meaning of history and establishes evil practices. [i]

Prophets considered themselves as vehicles through whom God himself spoke, and their works are usually results of an experience of a divine call. Some of their commissioning was rather dramatic and some were made to prophesy even against their will. But they still resorted to prophesying because it was God who was behind all and prophets are always given the assurance that they have the Inspirer, the Holy Spirit to accompany them even if their call to proclaim is very risky.

The very reason why these prophets became spokespersons of God to Israelites is the reality that they really understood what they preached. The prophets display a keen awareness of exactly what their message can or will result in. The intercessory stance sometimes assumed by the prophets demonstrates their awareness of the implications of their revelation. The specific nature of most prophecies, giving particular directive for particular circumstances, implies that the prophets would comprehend what God was saying through them. If they had not, the prophets might simply have pronounced general, invariable answers for given kinds of problems. The personal involvement of the prophets in seeking acceptance for their divinely appointed word suggests that they fully understood its significance. It is unlikely that they would have contended so ardently for the authority of their message before kings, priests and people if they did not share God’s sense of urgency that the word should be held. It is not unreasonable to conclude that they saw then, just as well as we can see now, how important belief in God’s word through them would be for Israel and the nations. It must be noted that even the most exhaustive analysis of prophetic self-awareness, would never be able to reveal much of the inner self of the Old Testament prophets. Our modern fascination with introspection and psychological probing was simply not shared by the ancients. Therefore we must recognize the emphasis that the Scripture itself makes: as regards the prophets, their prophecy was in fact God’s prophecy; and their self-understanding depended on his self-revelation. [ii]

Therefore, prophets live through the principle that they practice what they preach and they preach what they practice. What God has handed on them is not just something that they can recall and apply once in a while. They learn it by heart in such a way that it has become a part of their identity. Honesty and truth, courage and strength, love and benevolence, kindness and compassion are not just values to uphold, but they are also ways of life.

Why am I sharing these things to you this morning because this is basically the invitation of Jesus Christ in the Gospel of St. John and this is what you should bring along with you as you proceed to the next stage of your educational formation: You ascertain what has been handed on to you…you integrate in your life what has been handed on to you…and you share what has been handed on to you. Hence, you should also be a prophet, a living testimony of the many works that God the Father gave Jesus Christ, his Son to accomplish, and these works will undoubtedly testify that the Father has indeed sent the Son. You will definitely pass on the relevance of these saving works of God the Father and Jesus Christ as you place yourself in a new environment, as you meet new acquaintances, as you try out new things, as you establish new relationships, and as you assimilate new principles and values. You become prophets of hope now and everywhere but this will not be possible if you do not draw out the things that have been instilled inside your hearts and you also forget, like the Israelites, the many essential things you have learned in your journey. There are no more prophets of old who will go back in our times and remind us of the things we are ought to do because I truly believe that Christianity for the longest time, has been synonymous to maturity and being mature would simply mean that you are expected to be responsible for yourself and for your brothers and sisters as well.

This morning, allow me to speak to you not only as a priest, but as your brother, your “manong” who also took my own seat in this chapel/ auditorium sixteen years ago, and was also worried about the inevitable that will eventually happen in my life in the next days, in the next weeks, and in the next months. Mind you, I was also caught in the state of dilemma whether I should stay in Colegio de San Jose, enter the High School Seminary or go somewhere else. Strange as it seems, but I have to make some important decisions even in my young age, that will also serve as basis for the many other decisions that I will have to make later on in life. I have realized that in the past years, I have been dealing with life’s greatest ironies which at times drive me bonkers because I am made to opt for the most loving and the most life-giving thing to do. It is always a struggle between what I really I want and what God wants of me. There is a constant fear of rigor and change that kept on recurring inside my head as I take my baby steps to what seemed to be called “the journey towards Christian fullness and maturity”. But what made me survive in this endless ordeal are the things that I have learned inside the classroom, things that are far beyond than solving geometrical equations or translating Hindu-Arabic numerals to Roman Numerals…things that are far beyond than knowing the agreement between subject and verb or pronouncing the proper twang or accent in order to get the right meaning of the word…things that are far beyond than dissecting the anatomy of a flower in order to distinguish the stamina from style or the filament from the anther. A classroom is not just a place of mastering those different academic disciplines, but also, an opportunity for us to learn from our superiors, from our teachers, from ourselves, from each other and from our experiences. In the end, we will come to realize that being a prophet would mean that we just have to familiarize ourselves with the many opposites of life and choose what God has willed for us. Being a prophet would mean that we are able to distinguish:

üHearing from Listening because to hear is simply using our ears…our sense of hearing, but to listen is to pay attention to somebody by which we do not only use our ears but we also use our minds and our hearts.

üKnowing from Understanding because knowledge is just a matter acquiring information in order for us to be knowledgeable and we hire the mathematical principle of addition so that we can master our academic subjects; Understanding on the other hand, requires constant reflection and pondering because we learn things by heart and put these learnings into actions. We hire the mathematical principle of subtraction to distinguish the things that are worth keeping and the things that worth letting go in order for us to be wise.

üFreedom from Responsibility because if we are free, we can do whatever we want but this mindset has been subject to many abuses; In responsibility, we can be mature enough to submit ourselves to this very persuasive reality check: “I know I can do this, but I can decide not to do this for the good of my brothers and sisters”.

üPower from Authority because Power is based on inequality and the leader can at times take advantage of his unsuspecting constituents. Authority on the other hand is based on the perceived trustworthiness of the person, that he shows not just power but a great deal of selflessness through disinterested service, doing things not because he is expecting something in return but doing things because he is simply sharing the generosity and love he has received from his Creator.

üEgo from Conscience because Ego is selfish and self-serving. We only cater our own wants and our own needs; Conscience on the other hand, is altruistic and we are always asking ourselves whether our actions have an effect on the lives of others.

üExpectation from Hope because expectation usually starts from scratch. We expect something to happen in our lives because we always focus on the things that we do not have. There’s a tendency for us to nag the Lord because there is so much bitterness and deprivation inside our hearts. Hope on the other hand, is simply acknowledging our present gifts and be thankful for the graces and blessings we have received from God, as we await for the greater gifts that are yet to come. Hope is a theological virtue where one “places his trust in promises of Christ and relying not on his own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit”.

I know I have been talking too much but I’m confident that you know very well the things that I’m trying to imply and suggest. As Josephinians, it is really our challenge to be prophets of hope in this seemingly altered world where there is a constant battle between good and evil. As you face another challenge in your growth as persons, always remember the things that you have learned from this institution. Always remember the things that you have learned from the DC sisters, from your teachers, from your friends and from your classmates. Develop that sense of gratitude inside your heart because a grateful heart always remembers…a grateful heart never forgets and when you possess all of these, you can already say to yourself that “I have the mark of a true prophet!”

Allow me to end this with a quote from a person whom I consider as the greatest novelist and inspirational writer of all time, Paulo Coelho. On the first page of his book, the Warrior of Light, he aptly described the characteristic of a “warrior” which is very much related to the characteristic of a true prophet. He says:

A warrior of Light knows that he has much to be grateful for.

Angels help him in his struggle; celestial forces place each thing in its place, thus allowing him to give his best.

His companions say: “He’s so lucky! And the warrior does sometimes achieve tings far beyond his capabilities.

That is why, at sunset, he kneels and gives thanks for the Protective cloak surrounding him.

His gratitude however, is not limited to the spiritual world; he never forgets his friends, for their blood, mingled with his on the battlefield.

A warrior does not need to be reminded of the help given him by others.

He is the first to remember and he makes sure to share with them any reward he receives.

My dear graduates, my dear fellow Josephinians, be a prophet, be a beacon of hope in this often troubled world. Amen.

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18th Heartbeat

“It’s My Purification!”

Suppose you were given that spark of hope amidst your seemingly endless suffering but later on, this hope was taken away from you, and you do not know whether you still want to wait for that day that this hope will be returned to you, what would you do? Will you still hope against hope?

When Lola Iyay (the younger sister of my mother’s father) was diagnosed of Thyroid Cancer, we were so worried about her condition. She was not allowed to speak because of the tube that was inserted into her throat in order for her to breathe. Lola Iyay would only communicate to us by writing few words on a piece of paper or a small white board that she brings along with her everytime she has to say something. We thought all the while that hers was a serious case but fortunately, her doctor told us that the cancer cells develop in such a very slow pace that she still have to reach a relatively old agebefore these will eventually metastasize. The news actually gave her enthusiasm to undergo all the prescribed chemotherapies, radiations and surgeries because she was optimistic then that she will be to speak very soon. She even asked her surgeon to delay the schedule of her operation so that she can attend my ordination and thanksgiving mass. Despite her inability to express herself in uttered words, I was able to see happiness in her eyes as I greeted her after I was ordained priest on that fateful afternoon of November 3, 2008. I was really looking forward to the day that the cancer will completely be eradicated and the tube will finally be removed from her throat, and she will just have to undergo a series of rehabilitation in order to recover her sweet and tender voice, and perhaps live a normal life again as a Carmelite Missionary.

But things didn’t turn out well. After three gruelling surgeries, one computerized tomography scan, one NMRI (nuclear magnetic resonance imaging), one radiation session, and thousands of assured prayers and moral support, Lola Iyay’s doctor simply told her that she could no longer speak forever. The news dropped like a bomb and she was undeniably devastated. In her battle against cancer, she has proven to herself that she was indeed a fighter but now that there is no more reason to hope for a physical cure and relief, she was down in the dumps. She asked my folks to bring her to the Carmelite Retreat House in Dueñas so that she can consign herself in solitude and prayer.

When we surprised her on her birthday last March 14, 2009, Lola Iyay and I had a brief but hearty conversation. She wrote all the things that she has to say in the pages of her little notebook and I decided to do my response by also writing on those narrow, limited spaces in order to make her feel my love and support:

She wrote me, “I could no longer speak…for life”

I wrote back, “I was told. But do you believe in miracles? When the Science of Medicine fails, we still have a God who can make all things possible”

She didn’t say “yes” to my affirmation. I don’t know if she truly agreed with me or there was hesitance on her part but she stunned me with her spontaneity, “It’s my purification”.

It is in the seemingly desperate situation where that beacon of hope sets ablaze in the inner core of the person. Purification sometimes hides itself behind suffering and pain but once it is fully embraced, profound healings of the mind and heart begin.I am so happy that Lola Iyay has found the light amidst the darkness caused by her sickness. She has indeed gone deep into herself and gave a conscientious thought on the meaning of her life, the things that she had to let go, and the things that she wanted to keep inside her heart.

__________________________________

Honesty and truth are a way of life,
the only way. It means more than just
what the words imply, because it also
means being true to yourself. The
purity of heart is visible when the
love of God is reflected so clearly
and strongly that it shines through,
even in the most adverse conditions
and circumstances. Such a man has
reached a point where nothing can
touch him because he has come so close
to God that his whole life is based on
the solid foundations of truth, love
and devotion to God. How can anything
touch such a man?

(Sathya Sai Baba)

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17th Heartbeat

REMEMBERING FR. TOM

Rev. Fr. Thomas Green, S.J.

March 19, 1932-March 13, 2009

Priest, Professor, Formator, Spiritual Director, Confessor, Friend

In the morning of March 13, 2009, I was surprised to receive a text from fellow Josefinos, informing me that Fr. Thomas Green, S.J., passed away. For the longest time, we have been informed that he was sick but his sudden death stunned us all. He was found sitting in his favorite chair inside his room with his pipe on his chest. It was a huge loss for San Jose Seminary and the Philippine Province of the Society of Jesus.

I want to break away from the usual stuff I write in this weekly column. I just want to give honor to a priest who is known for his sanctity and big-heartedness that indeed made him undisputedly, the favorite “spiritual director” of everybody. His wisdom and holiness had drawn a legion of helpless souls to visit him at San Jose in order to receive spiritual healing and guidance. I remember very well, when I took the slim chance of applying for a slot in the Theology Department six years ago, the first person who interviewed me was Fr. Tom. I already had an idea who he was because of the many books he had written (some of which were handed to me by my grandmother who has kept these books in antiquity), but as I approached the door of his room, I was bit apprehensive because I thought all the while, he was bit stringent and cranky as his picture on the seminary directory suggested. However, in the course of our colloquy, my apprehension was shunned away because this brilliant and renowned Jesuit priest was actually cheerful, good-natured, simple and very much down to earth. He has shown me this aura of somebody who has a deep spirituality and profound relationship with God.

Fr. Thomas Green reminded me of St. Joseph, the “silent worker” who has been a model of genuine humility and unwavering faithfulness. Fr. Tom can be wordless sometimes but his silence would give me a compelling message of his goodness as a person. There have been many instances that I would just stare at him and simply be edified by his presence without him having to say a thing. Whenever I go to confession and share to him the darkest secrets of my heart, Fr. Tom would simply ask me a straightforward yet insightful question, “Are you still happy with your vocation?” True enough, this served as a reality check for me as I continuously ponder on my vocation to the priesthood. After he had given me the absolution, he would make a request with a hearty smile, “Don’t forget to pray for the old man!”

Fr. Tom was laid to rest last Thursday, March 19, the Feast Day of Saint Joseph and coincidentally, his birthday. Too bad I wasn’t able to attend his funeral despite the prodding of my folks in San Jose Seminary. But nevertheless, I join the countless others who couldn’t be there in the flesh, yet would serve as living testimonies of the many good deeds done by this man of prayer, excellence, generosity and meekness.

When the news about Fr. Tom’s untimely death was announced through postings on the internet and recurrent text messages, the last person who informed me, thinking that I still have no idea about his passing, was Bishop Angel. He said in his text message: “Fr. Tom Green died this morning”; I told him, “Yes, bishop. I also received a lot of text messages from Josefinos. What a huge loss! He was my confessor”; He answered back, “Your sins are now in heaven”.

I will never forget this old man who accompanied me even in the darkest moments of my seminary formation and has brought me to light with his faith, benevolence and wisdom. He will always be remembered.

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16th Heart Beat

SUPERHUMAN

Who is my favorite superhero? My favorite super human?

When you are young and helpless, browbeaten by the world because you are such a weakling, as other children laugh tauntingly at you because of the constant slipups and letdowns everytime you join the group for a hide and seek game, you just pack your things immediately, go home sullen and in tears.

This is what I experienced 20 years ago. At times, I would affront myself in front of the mirror for being such a loser because of my flimsiness. Then, I crammed all my stuffs inside the drawer of my closet and looked at the playing cards which my brother and I have been collecting for the longest time. I examined each of the cards with much regard because it featured all the superheroes created by Marvel Comics—from Captain America to Professor X, from the Fantastic Four to the Avengers, From the All-American X-Men to their British counterpart, the Excalibur. I am often overwhelmed by the mutant strength, stamina, endurance, speed, and antics of every superhero I would fixed my eyes and attention on, after which I would give myself a deep sigh, wishing that if only they were real, perhaps they can defend me from my detractors, or maybe they can let me borrow their mutant powers for a while just to teach those merciless kids who bullied me, a lesson. My childhood fantasies about superheroes have been my solitary refuge from all the scorns and mockeries of those who are fond of singling out unsuspecting kids like me, in school and in the neighborhood.

As time passed, my Marvel Superheroes mania died down slowly because I was already looking for something factual and relevant. From the many inspiring true-to-life stories I’ve seen and heard, I’ve figured out that being a superhuman is more than just possessing mutant powers of telekinesis, flight, invisibility, or sonic blasts. Rather, it is the ability of the person of going deep down into himself, and discover his capacity of loving beyond measure; his capacity of enduring the relentless pain with much faith and courage; his capacity of uniting extremely opposed groups of people in the spirit of brotherhood and communion; and his capacity of sacrificing his life for the many advocacies borne out of freedom, equality and justice. One particular superhuman that is so close to my heart is Fr. Jesus Reynaldo Roda, OMI. I don’t know him personally but the impact of his death seemed to be a constant reminder for me of what priesthood is all about—that it is always understood in terms of Kenosis, a process of self-emptying one’s own will and becoming entirely receptive to will of God. It usually comes from that sincere desire of following Jesus by making important sacrifices not just to one’s self but for the sake of many, even in the face of suffering and death. Fr. Rey, as he is fondly called, was the director of the Notre Dame of Tabawan, in Tawi-tawi and has been part of the missionary initiatives of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate in the last ten years. Furthermore, he had been at the forefront of development- oriented initiatives in this sleepy town, exerting efforts to harness public and private resources for projects, particularly in the field of primary and secondary education. [i] He championed the causes of Muslims and Christians alike, sharing the message of peace and hope to a nation divided by differences in principles, beliefs, customs and traditions.

According to reliable accounts, Fr. Rey was killed while praying inside the chapel, as he used to do every night, as armed men barged in and tried to take him. He struggled and resisted being taken away, and explicitly said that he preferred to be killed right there and then. A witness said that he was beaten and then shot dead. The armed men also took some valuables from his office before fleeing, taking with them also a male teacher of Notre Dame of Tabawan who happened to be there. There was no exact reason for his killing but most were suspecting that these armed men wanted to kidnap him for ransom. Indeed, his death became a ransom for his many humanitarian works. His loss was deeply mourned by people everywhere because he was a man of valour, faithfulness and integrity.

Fr. Rey Roda, OMI is definitely one of the many real, tangible, “matter-of-fact” super humans that truly inspired me not because he possessed an extraordinary ability, but rather, he used his limitedness as human person to bring out the greatest power of all: THE POWER OF LOVE. Perhaps, he is just a compelling representation of the many unsung super heroes and super humans we meet each day, yet often disregarded because we have been used to equate power with something humungous and colossal. The real hero is inside one’s heart, in one’s capacity for giving unconditional love that impels him to do ordinary things extraordinarily.

Jimi Hendrix, an “all the rage” rock legend, once said, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world would know peace”. I am done with this tell-all piece of mine. Now it’s your turn and maybe you can also ask yourself this question:

Who is your favorite superhero?Your favorite super human?

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15th Heartbeat

STEREOTYPES

There’s no business like show business. It has always been a struggle between sincerity and hypocrisy everytime I would watch actors and actresses being interviewed on the National Television, explaining their sides whenever they are involved in a particular issue. I must admit that there have been instances where I’d like to give in to their endless swear-it-all, and choose somebody from the opposing parties whom I can place my bet based on his or her credibility factor, with all those crocodile tears and whining just to get the attention and support of the televiewers. Like many other Filipinos, I also caught myself feasting on the daily gabfests seen on the boob tube.

Lately, one interesting “war of the nerves” that really trapped my attention was the rift between Boy Abunda and Dr. Vicky Belo. In an interview with an entertainment show host, the doctor of the stars said that that, “And I’d like to say, if you want to look like Boy Abunda, then go to Calayan. But if you want to look like Dingdong Dantes and Piolo Pascual, come to Belo.” It was meant to be a joke but taken personally, it was a below the belt comment that was rather insulting on the part of the person she was referring to. Of course, the affronted Abunda retaliated with a compelling remark: “Matagal na panahon kaming nagsama ni Vicki. And Vicki, if you’re watching, alam mo na kahit kailan, kahit kailan, hindi ako namuhunan sa gandang panlabas. Alam mo, namuhunan ako sa lakas ng loob, sipag, tiyaga, at dasal. At Vicki, wala akong ilusyong maganda ako, wala akong ilusyon. Pero wala rin sinumang may karapatang manlait sa aking pagkatao.”

Now I see eyes rolling. Perhaps, you have also expressed your views on this matter and it is obvious that Boy Abunda got all the sympathy of the infuriated Filipinos, who have this penchant to side with those who are maligned and offended. We are so into this culture of the oppressed that we often hate those people, who inflict harm using sarcasm, degrading the very dignity of the human being by their slanderous verbal expressions and malevolent actions. But my point here is not so much on the fact that we are truly compassionate and patronizing people in this seemingly apathetic world, but the sad reality of STEREOTYPING. This phenomenon is growing in every parts of the world and it holds the principle that there’s no assurance in getting all the respect you ever wanted in life even if you are brilliant, righteous, and of good standing in the society, for this kind of mindset will forever tarnish the ego of those who are struggling to find their place in the society. Stereotypes are nothing but prejudices based on external perceptions dictated by one’s culture, beliefs, traditions, languages and most importantly, media. It is quite sad to note that in stereotyping, we tend to equate the person’s worth in terms of preference and likeability, of how he or she would present himself or herself before the scrutinizing public. We have focused so much on aesthetics that we tend to forget the real and genuine measure of a man—the HEART. Thabo Mbeki, the former President of South Africa was recently quoted by British newspapers, as having lamented the stereotyping of blacks that he alleged was prevalent among the white citizens. According to Pres. Mbeki, whites view blacks as lazy, dumb and of a criminal disposition. He objected strongly to these stereotypes as unfair and not a true reflection of reality. But this is just one of the many mortifying attempts of stereotyping that is so prevalent even in the most progressive nations. If this will continue to happen in our society, our senses will forever be blinded by our own biases and discrimination. Time will come that what we see in front of the mirror, despite all the desirability and magnificence, could no longer contain the lies and insecurities inside our hearts. In the end, all knows a masquerade ball, where the attendees wear masks made of shams, in a great revelry of deception, propaganda and falsehood.

In the transfiguration of Jesus Christ, the voice of God was heard from the clouds, saying, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him”. I believe that being adopted sons and daughters of God, we are also given the same assurance, and that we too deserved to be called, “beloved” because we are created in God’s image and likeness. Stereotyping is the exact anti-thesis of this enduring truth because it leads us to inequality and division rather than fellowship and communion.

Last night, I was able to watch the elimination of American Idol Season Eight. Alexander Wagner Truman, one of the aspiring hopefuls who belted his heart out before the judges, was asked by Ryan Seacrest on how he was able to manage the spiteful comments of Simon Cowell (who have been sneering at him since day one of his auditions, saying that he looks more like a cocker spaniel, that he has no personality and voice, that he can only be rated up to the scale of three, etc.) after his performance, telling him that he growled ridiculously and his attempt to kick the microphone was utterly stupid. But the young geek, unfazed by the harsh criticisms, won the hearts of the viewing public by saying thathe only wanted to show people who he really is and he would rather lose the chance being himself than win it being somebody else. He didn’t make it to the top twelve but I’m pretty sure he will go home with much confidence in himself. For me it is an honest declaration of one’s desire not to be stereotyped.

It is only through the heart that one can see rightly. To hell with stereotypes.

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14th Heartbeat

Some facts about doing my laundry

The Season of Lent has two important invitations: to turn away from sin and believe in the message of the Gospel. But I believe, nobody will ever be challenged by these injunctions unless he has gone deep into himself and be aware of what is going on in his life. I think this is what happened to me in the past days. Paradoxically, the things that I have been carrying out in routine, say, doing my laundry, has opened my awareness to the recurring issues I keep on dealing with myself in the past twenty-eight years of my personal journey. What seemed to be tedious and boring has turned out to be an opportunity for self-discovery, and that I was able to regress inwardly as I searched for inner peace and healing.

Hence, allow me to share to you some facts about doing my laundry…

WASH

It’s been ages that I washed my clothes with my bare hands. As far as I can remember, the last time I stretched and crumpled those dirty shirts of mine was when the pulsator of our washing machine at home screwed up and I had no choice but to put everything inside the large tub, and let my 10 fingers do the job. Now I am doing it again, reminding myself that everything has to start from the basic…

At the back of my mind, I was torn between living the easy life and taking responsibility for myself…I have been so used in getting things done in a jiffy that my understanding of personal accountability and trustworthiness were shrouded…I was so into my comfort zones lately that I almost forgot where I actually came from…I know that I have endured a lot through the years but my painless and worry-free disposition has reduced my memory to practicality…all I ever wanted was an easy life and there was a point in time that I thought everything was possible…but in reality, it wasn’t. Just like washing my clothes, life is difficult…

RINSE

I usually rinse my clothes three times before I finally drench it in a separate tub of fabric conditioner mixed with water. This is to make sure that what I will be wearing is free from remnants of soap suds. I just don’t like the impression that my laundry was haphazardly done especially when my folks notice some white marks on my shirt as if I applied too much baby powder on my body (which I don’t usually do)…I am also very particular with stains. If they still remain after several washing, I would throw or give that shirt away.

In life, there have been instances that I hate myself because of my woundedness…that I often question my credibility and worthiness, thinking that I don’t deserve anything…that happiness can never be free or spontaneous because I have to work hard for it all the time…like the stains on my shirt, there are certain experiences that I’d rather forget because it is too painful to remember…only to realize later on that facing it squarely, when I had the chance, would have made me courageous and strong…sometimes ,I feel bad when the “ghosts” of my past would haunt me again because I have deliberately thrown them away…Now, I am reminded that there is such a thing called “grace” and this “grace” is usually build on nature.

DRY

Drying my clothes is not a simple task for I have to bear the scorching heat of the sun…or better wait for several days before I can finally wear my favorite shirt if it’s raining…or put it inside the dryer and spin it in eternity…Occasionally (and with much desperation), I’d like to defy time, ironing my damp clothes forcibly so that I can use them again, only to be embarrassed later on that they are not actually parched up but stinky.

In life, there are occasions when I get so impatient over certain matters…that I jump easily to conclusion without weighing down the odds…that I have been so attached to the results of my words and actions that I have failed to look closely into myself and discern which is more loving and life-giving…and then, I am reminded once again that my thoughts are faster than my words so that I can ponder things well inside my mind before blurting them out…and that I can be reasonable enough to control myself for the greater good…

FOLD

I am a certified “neat freak”. Folding clothes for me is like solving a geometrical equation , where I would painstakingly pleat every edges in order to come up with a perfect square…more so, I would arrange them neatly- segregating the whites from coloreds, the plain shirts from printed shirts, the crew necks from v-necks, those with “sleeves” from those without “sleeves. It gives me satisfaction and contentment to see my cabinet in order…I would always aim for tidiness and harmony…

At times, I’d like to see life that way too…that everything’s fixed and all I have to do is to rely on what has been planned or scheduled. but having this idealism has left me frustrated in the past years…there are things that are beyond my control…in the end, I am only invited to take risk and let go for life is not all about precision…I will learn so much if I have the willingness to compromise and be comfortable with the occasional mistakes that I have committed. Failure makes sense sometimes. It makes me grow better as a person.

Perhaps, I should thank our labandera for making me realize these things again. Salamat Nang Minda!

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