Writing on Air

Philippine Star

Sunday Life

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes
Sunday, August 24, 2008

When I was a little boy, my elder brother Ducky, who is 14 years older than I, liked to tell me and my siblings interesting stories about dubious medieval “saints” and how they supposedly earned their esteemed titles during the early days of Christianity. According to Ducky, these so-called “saints” achieved sainthood through sheer physical suffering. Their lives weren’t anything like those of true martyrs who lived or died under hostile circumstances inflicted on them by the enemies of the faith. These were people who inflicted pain on themselves by way of, say, climbing a mountain on their knees, or subjecting their bodies to fire or other extreme physical tests and dedicating the pain they endured to God. Looking back, one might say their pain was totally self-inflicted and uncalled for.

In today’s world, they would be candidates for a TV show like Fear Factor. More than sainthood, they should get some recognition from Ripley for passing tests of extreme physical endurance. Some of them, I believe, have been taken off the A-list of saintly intercessors in heaven.

How could these people miss the whole point of authentic martyrdom by mistaking just any kind of suffering for the real thing? While one may argue that all suffering feels real, we need to differentiate authentic suffering from the needless ones. Real, authentic suffering is necessary. And this suffering that is undertaken and eventually embraced and endured, even if one did not accept it initially, is borne for a cause that is greater than oneself. Outside of that, most other suffering is probably the needless type.

Simply put, why go through pain when, by taking certain legitimate steps, you can avoid it, or put an end to it? Isn’t it a form of needless suffering to live through a headache you can very well take a pill for?

And yet, it happens to us all the time as individuals, families, communities, and even as whole nations and peoples. We bring needless suffering upon ourselves and others all the time. When we are too lazy to think things through, when we refuse to take the time to solve the easy problems in our lives, we end up adding needless complications. The simple planning of trips, for instance, will save us a lot of pain at the gas pump. The efficient allocation of the hours in a day will give us more time to spend with our loved ones. Or, being aware of our penchant for impulse spending will save us the pain of bankruptcy. With a little foresight and awareness, life can be free of needless suffering. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Well, theoretically at least, it is.

The trick is to know when we are setting ourselves up to suffer needlessly, and when we use our pain to make us bigger than what we know ourselves to be.

Let’s talk about real suffering that is thrown in our laps by the Gods — like cancer, or losing a job or seeing one’s home burn to the ground. I sometimes find myself clasping my hands close to my chest and feeling a lump in my throat as I watch, say, images of victims of war or crime or see people suffering due to plain bad luck.

I see in their situation real suffering that they must face. The other day, I saw on TV a woman leaving her small home in Lanao because of the recent MILF attacks. I was torn, watching her from the comfort of my bed, her face filled with anxiety. I felt guilty being so comfortable compared to her and how I was not even thinking of doing anything to alleviate her condition. Could it be said that hers was authentic suffering while my mine was a less noble one?

Nobody really likes to suffer. That is why more often we would choose needless suffering because we do not need to walk the whole nine yards. Unlike with authentic suffering, we can stop the pain anytime. And we do so through denial, or plain refusal to see the solution to the pain. And we do this quite ingeniously, like when we say we are powerless to do anything about the situation.

How do we deal with suffering that has been with us for some time? In the case of lingering emotional trauma from early childhood, often, we suffer more  (and needlessly) when we prolong the trauma by simply refusing to face it once and for all, much less talk about it. Or when forced to do so, we find a way out by saying we are over it, just to end the conversation. Worse, some of us say we have “lifted our problems up to the Lord,” thus closing the issue. I am not knocking those who try to sublimate their pain. Some of them may be sincere and really mean it. But I have seen myself and others do this and, honestly, I see a copout mechanism in place of honest confrontation.

But a lot actually happens when we do the heroic thing and embrace the pain. By this, I mean opening our eyes and looking at the extent of the damage that the suffering being forced upon us suggests, and eventually saying yes to it. We put a stop to resisting and accept fully the consequences of the tribulation thrown at us. This way, the pain becomes meaningful and a necessary ingredient for maturity. The suffering ceases to be  needless.

When we have reached such a place, we discover that the very suffering that repelled us has transformed itself into something like an elixir that makes us feel more alive. We’ve heard of  victorious tribes that eat the body parts of their enemies in the belief that they will gain the strength of their opponents.  Metaphorically, that is exactly what happens to us when we embrace the pain. As Joseph Campbell wrote, “The demon that you can swallow gives you its power, and the greater life’s pain, the greater life’s reply.”

Facing our fears and going through necessary suffering awakens us to gifts we possess but which have remained hidden from us. The very power of fear that used to haunt us comes back to honor us by giving us its power. And because of that, life itself begins to feel different. Where once it used to be indifferent or even hostile and did not seem to care whether we live or die, it now feels like a friend who communicates with us intimately and affirms our rightful place in the world. It tells us to partake more of what life has in store.

We have heard it said many times that we must choose our battles carefully. This is wise counsel. It is equally important to choose one’s sufferings wisely. Necessary suffering makes us grow. Needless suffering stunts our growth.

I just love this. Sekine, our Japanese fan is a karaoke king!

He says that when he sings APO, the Pinays fall in love with him! ha ha. What a guy!

Been living the fast life again of interviews, TV guestings, recordings, rehearsals and starting next week, throw in concertizing!

Yes, everything is starting up again and heating up—the promos, pictorials, the creating of new pieces, concepts, schticks. Things  are revving up and all raring to go towards September 20 when APO FINALLY does the Dome as the headline act. We’ve done Araneta Coliseum many times before but always as someone’s guest. This time it’s our own show completely!

I am quite excited. For the past two or more years, Danny, Boboy and I have been consistently amazed at the answer we get when we ask our audiences how many of them are watching us live  for the first time. Sometimes, as much as 60 percent say it is their first APO concert. A lot of those who answer are young people who probably discovered us after the bands gave us a tribute with the Kami Napo Muna  hit CDs.  This show will showcase what 39 years of  friendship and performing have brought us to. Visit http://apohikingsociety.org for more info.

Meanwhile, here’s an interesting video of a Japanese fan whom Danny met. He loves karaoke and  really gets high doing  APO stuff. Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZdFHqFOUnU

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A few nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and s I ran my tongue on my lower lip, I noticed how thick my right lower lip was. For awhile I thought I had a stroke since I could sense the deformity on my right side. When I looked at the mirror, I was shocked to see the right side of my lip twice as big as the left. It was so puffed up. I must have  been bitten by something.

My mistake was to go on the net and look up the sympoms by typing  ‘lip swelling’ on google search. Immediately, I found links to leprosy and a host of other sicknesses that can really throw one off and leave you wide awake  at 3 AM.
Ha ha.

The next day I went to my doctor and after I narrated what happened, she advised me to not refer to the internet but to see her instead. It was probably an insect bite. I am hoping it was a spider, or an ant. Basta hindi ipis!! yech!!

*      *      *

As I mentioned awhile ago, we are back in the recording studio. We are doing an album of pieces that we only do live in concert. These are rearangements of songs that have evolved away from how we initialy recorded them. We are also throwing in some new songs in the line-up. These pieces are great and to us, they are now the definitive versions of these songs more than the old original studio versions.

I love working with our musicians. On stage or in a studio atmosphere, they are simply tops! Their level of musicality and passion for excellence is unrivaled. And yes, they do it with joy! Watch out for this!

*      *      *

On September 23, I will be having a Photo exhibit at the Renaissance Gallery in Megamall. My last exhibit entitled “A.W.E.” was three years ago before I left for Sydney and was quite successful. This upcoming one is entitled “Skin– a Black and White and Red exhibit by Jim Paredes”, and you guessed it, it’s a nude collection which I shot through the years.

I AM excited about it but will withhold further announcements till the date nears. Watch out for it!

Philippine Star

Sunday Life

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes
Sunday, August 17, 2008

Last Sunday, entering an uncle’s house to greet him on his birthday, I landed in the middle of a “speech” by an old priest. He was there to say Mass but had volunteered to do the homily first since we were waiting for my aunt, who had just woken up, to join us. I found a quiet place beside my sister who had arrived earlier.

The priest was a crusty old guy whom I remember listening to as a young man when he gave a talk to my high school class about poverty and how we young Catholics should respond. Last Sunday, (some 40 years later), I realized that very little had changed. The priest talked of other things but mostly, he stressed the great disparity between the social classes in the Philippines and how callous the rich are towards the poor. He talked about how the wealthy among us can strut around with nary a care while people sleep in the streets or scrounge for food. Even if the theme was the same, there was a striking difference, and it was the tone and tenor of his speech.

This man did not mince his words, much less parse his message. He was an old, angry man. He talked disparagingly of the Church whom he accused of being unable and unwilling to challenge the flock because it has become too soft and accommodating. In his view, many of its leaders had compromised themselves by receiving “donations” from the government and from the business community in exchange for their silence on pressing issues.

As he went on to tackle a range of other things, it was striking to listen to him because he showed no fear nor hesitation as he called by name certain world and local leaders, labeling them as murderers for engaging in senseless wars, and/or stealing public funds which could otherwise have gone to food and welfare programs that could ease hunger and improve living conditions everywhere.

Here was an old man who has devoted most of his adult life to living with the poor and dedicating all his efforts to alleviating their living conditions. I imagine how he wakes up every day with a fire in his heart and zeal in his soul doing every big and small thing he can to make a difference. He belongs to a big organization — his priestly order, and an even bigger one —  the Catholic Church, which he must love dearly to be able to commit to, embark on, and keep his course steady in pursuit of his mission as he has done all these years. But at his late age, he realizes that they have failed him. And these days, he is frustrated, angry, even pointedly cutting as he lambastes his superiors.

I looked around the room and saw many of the older people listening quietly and, I imagined, somewhat passively. In contrast, I found myself nodding in agreement as he looked me in the eye. He was, to me, not a demagogue or a crazy idealist, but an angry man who had not surrendered or tempered what he feels his faith demands just because his superiors are not on his same intense wavelength. In my mind, I could hear Albert Camus’ exhortation to people who had a vision, a mission to accomplish which went against the grain of things: “Between you and the world, second the world.”

This crusty old priest is intent on not going gently into the night. He intends to rage, rage and rage further against the dying of the light so that his own breath will ignite what is left of the embers of compassion.

I thought of the emotion of anger and the power that it has over our internal and the external world. Anger can be a very uncomfortable feeling to have. When it hits you in a strong way, it feels like your very being is on fire and there is a great compulsion to spread this fire by expelling it and lashing at other people. Definitely, it calls you to action, to something drastic if it is to simmer down and disappear.

If an emotion like this can be powerful enough to move us out of our selves and act on the world, surely it must have some positive use even if it is unpleasant. For one thing, it is definitely a wake-up call. How? Because  it shakes us violently from the slumber of comfort to remind us that our world, our boundaries have been invaded and violated.

You wake up and realize that you’re just not going to take it anymore. You’ve had it. You will not sit quietly and continue to keep it all in. You will act!

The positive thing about healthy anger is that it tells you that you can’t continue to live life the way you’ve been living it. You realize how stupid you have been to be blind or unforgivingly tolerant of how others have treated, disappointed or hurt you and you will have no more of it. Something’s gotta give and it’s not gonna be you.

“Sobra na! Tama na! Palitan na!” Remember marching to EDSA then and feeling how your sense of decency, morality or expectations had been trampled upon? The millions who came all felt pretty much the same way, enough to take the time to march, shout and even risk their lives to express how much they wanted no more of the status quo and demanded change.

These days, one need not look very far to see how our sense of anger has been hijacked. No matter how shocking the revelations we hear about our officials, people hardly express themselves in a way that can constructively strike fear in the hearts of those who mock us. I would even go further and say that not only has our anger been hijacked, diverted or misdirected, we are using this anger against ourselves. There is an internal fire all right, but instead of directing the raging flames of wrath against the objects of our contempt — the corrupt, the brazenly calloused liars and thieves who rule over our lives, we have kept it all in to burn our own spirit so that the transformational power of our anger has turned into a consuming hopelessness.

“What’s the use?” I often hear people (including myself) say when asked  why we do not march in the streets or do anything against our situation.

A comic once said in jest that depression is anger without enthusiasm. How true, how true. Instead of outward action, our anger is kept in. This is the unhealthy way to deal with this powerful emotion. Our silence hurts us more than we know as it emboldens the enemies of our ideals to further violate the rules they swore to follow.

It is important to pay attention to what makes us angry even if just to remind ourselves that we have not lost our sense of outrage, or even our conscience. It is even better to act on it constructively.

How does one act constructively when angry?

There is a difference between acting on anger, and acting out our anger. The first is directed, pointed action that is thought-out and planned. The other is plain raging. Like a flame, acting on anger is like heat applied to metal to shape it into something we want. It is measured, purposeful and even constructive. Acting out is an uncontrolled conflagration. The priest I listened to last Sunday urges us to act on anger, do what needs to be done, regardless of how much or how little support is behind us. To not do anything is to allow oneself to be consumed by one’s own flames and turn this useful emotion into an enemy. 

Let us then, at the very least, properly acknowledge our anger. There is anger that needs to be acted on. But sometimes, all that is asked of us is to merely notice it even if in the end no action follows. At least we know we are feeling it, and not denying it.

As I said earlier, many of us avoid anger because of its unpleasantness. It is important to know ourselves, to discern when acting on our anger is not in our best interest at a given time, or whether it is a true friend expressing itself for our own good.

Apathy, indifference — now, those are the real enemies that kill our spirit and strengthen our tormentors.

Calling all bloggers, specially those who are based abroad. There is an essay writing contest at kamusta.com where we are asking anyone who likes to write to share their experiences. This contest will run for four weeks starting this August 11 where the first theme we are asking you to write about is, My First Foreign Romance. Keep it at 1,000 characters and make it interesting. Incidentally,  I will be the judge who wil choose who gets 3 hours free  prepaid cards which we will send to your loved ones over here in the Philippines.

C’mon. Everybody wants to read a good love story. Sali na! Visit kamusta.com for more details!

*      *      *
I’ve gone back to the gym after a three year hiatus. I was suffering from a frozen shoulder when I stopped.  I still have a little pain now on my left arm  which is probably due to some other reason but I am ignoring that. The call of the sweaty gym and the heavy weights and the pumped up feeling I have missed for quite awhile have been too hard to resist. I am back now with a vengeance.

This discipline in turn is rewarding me by making me sleep well and feel good generally. I  was never athletic when I was in school. When I got to my thirties though, I started going to the gym, biking, etc.. I was so fanatical about biking I even had the whole set of funny gear–spandex biking shorts, shiny shirts with all the emblems, gloves, biking shoes that snapped you on the pedals, helmet, sunnies, etc. I even joined a Manila to Tagaytay marathon and was happy to finish on time. Personally, I think of that particular trek as some sort of watershed for me. It took a lot from me but I delivered and felt proud about it. I even had my certificate framed! I could take up biking again one of these days.

Light running is also cool. I love to hear the thud of my feet on the surface.To break the boredom, I count my breaths. I know that the first kilometer can be done in two hundred inhales-exhales thereabouts. I once did fifteen K non-stop. I know I counted my exhales but I can’t seem to remember now. 7K is about 2000 plus breaths if I remember it correctly. It’s not as simple as just multiplying 2000 by 2 to get to 14K since the rate of breathing gets  faster as you go though the kilometers.

I also love the feel of what they call ’second wind’  where the body, instead of stopping due to tiredness can suddenly wake up and feel like it’s starting again after running a long stretch. You feel tired but all of a sudden, your body feels revived because it discovers and releases a fresh supply of energy. It’s a great feeling of lightness.  Second wind is not unlike the new energies I discovered when I started mid-lifing. All of a sudden, you have that spark to ignite and light up the rest of the journey as you feel the wind of change on your face.

*        *        *
The 42nd run of TCU ended last night. We had great dinner after. It is always a good feeling after every run. I have a sense, a feeling of a temporary ending, a task finished, a passion indulged in, and a desire fulfilled,  and I always sleep deep and well after.

As of yesterday, people were calling me and asking when the next run would be. The truth is I don’t know. My schedule is becoming hectic once again and my days are accelerating to the speed of a crazy life. There’s the APO concert on the 20th of September, the promo schedule which means interviews, TV shows. There’s also rehearsals. APO is also rushing an album to be released soon after the concert before I fly back to Sydney. I will also have a photo exhibit at the Renaissance Gallery in Megamall by September 23. I still have a few pictures more to take.

If at all, the next TCU run may be November, but most likely next year  by February. To the new grads, congratulations. Go out and make your indelible mark on your own life and on the world! Life is a blank page. Create and write whatever you wish.

Philippine Star

Sunday Life

HUMMING IN  MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes
Sunday, August 10, 2008

Traveling with the APO in 1987, onboard a flight from Jeddah to Riyadh, I found myself seated beside a Saudi woman who was traditionally dressed in an abaya and niqab, all covered up in a black veil. As a visitor to the Middle East, I had been informed about the taboo regarding the mingling of the sexes and was advised not to stare, take notice or even talk to women while in the Kingdom. When I saw this woman beside me, I wondered anxiously, while avoiding looking at her directly, why they even allowed women and men to sit side by side in an airplane. But when I noticed that other women also shared rows with men in the other sections of the plane, I felt more relaxed.

We were seated in the middle-row seats, she was to my left while on my right sat the bass player of the APO band. With nothing better to do, my band mate and I began speculating on what the Arabic writing imprinted on the back of the seat in front of us meant. We laughed as we tried to imagine different meanings. After a while, I sensed that the woman on my left was sitting really low in her chair so that her head was no longer visible from the seat at the back. I looked at her, and I noticed that she had opened her veil and what I saw was a beautiful young woman.

Apparently, she slouched in her seat so she would not be seen by the Saudis seated behind because she wanted to speak to us and help us figure out what the Arabic writing we were trying to decipher meant. She told us what it meant. I no longer remember what it said but it must have been a warning to “keep the tray table folded up during takeoff and landing,” or something to that effect.

As surprised as I was that she joined us in conversation, I was quite delighted that this young woman was trying to talk to foreigners in spite of the taboo on such an activity.

I introduced myself and she did the same. No handshake though. Her name was Ishrak. Our conversation was off to, at best, a tentative start, but as the flight progressed, she became more talkative. I imagined that she envied the Filipina stewardess with whom Boboy, my co-APO performer, was exchanging lively banter and laughter. I entertained the thought that she probably wished she could engage in the same kind of informality with the opposite sex. But the fact she was speaking to us at all was already quite a bold move, and I did nothing to discourage her.

She told us that she was coming home from France where she was a senior at Sorbonne University. She was going home because she received word that her father was ill. She explained that the call for her to go home was something she had expected and dreaded, not because her father was sick, but because she was already of legal age to be married off. Most likely, she said, the entire story of her father’s illness was just a ruse for her to come home and become betrothed to someone she had never met.

I was dumbfounded. I knew such things happened in this part of the world, but there was nothing like meeting someone firsthand who was actually getting into an arranged marriage. The reality of this woman’s situation jolted me. It shattered my sterile intellectual understanding as I was confronted with her real, in-your-face situation, however vicariously.

As I listened to her, I purposely held back all outward signs of empathy. I tried to show no shock or emotion, even as I tried to imagine how such a beautiful woman who was educated in France, where she probably soaked up a fair amount of liberal democratic thinking, could turn her back on all that to participate in a medieval practice that her culture demanded of her.

Clinically, I asked her how she felt about it. She said that she was resigned to her situation, which had been at the back of her mind for years now. It was the Saudi way, and for every Saudi woman, it was a part of life, and that’s how it was.

Prearranged marriage is still practiced in many parts of the world although it has been abandoned for the most part by Western societies. I have imagined many times how this actually works out even though the very thought of it leaves me aghast.

I have spoken to many Muslims, and the statistics seem to prove it. They say that their arranged marriages largely work out fine. There are far less divorces (seven percent) under such a setup than in Western countries, which now have divorce rates of something like 45 percent. Of course, one can argue that if women had more autonomy in Muslim societies, the divorce rate would most likely be much higher than what it presently is.

Nevertheless, what has left me speculating quite often is the meaning of “love” under such circumstances. What we know love to be under our liberal, democratic, largely Christian setup, is that it is freely given, and the bonds of marriage are jointly entered into with full knowledge and full consent. In fact, a marriage can be annulled if it can be proven that at least one party did not give his or her full consent, and was coerced somewhat by societal, parental or any kind of pressure.

It is important to remember that once in Western and church history when society was feudal and when priests, rabbis and religious leaders were not only religious but also temporal rulers who were so powerful, they pretty much arranged the marriages of most everyone. They decided who was good for whom. They were matchmakers, brokers, and every young maiden and young man of any social class mostly went along with their choices. Why? Because that’s how life was back then.

When you think about it, there was nothing romantic about marriage then. It was merely an institution that made sure there were unions that would guarantee the propagation of the species and to keep order in society, as even royalty was matched with other royalty for the consolidation of power.

I stumbled on a book by Ken Wilber years ago called A Brief History of Everything, where he says the onset of personal, romantic love as we know it only emerged sometime in the 11th century in Western civilization. What is meant by romantic love is the pursuit and cultivation of the natural attraction between two people, and in the context of the 11th century, it mostly meant love outside the reach of the marriage brokers. It was love between individuals, pretty much as we know it today. It was the pursuit of the glory of love fed by the natural attraction between the sexes. One can only imagine that, at that time, such a concept of love was highly subversive since it ignored the traditional power structures that governed over such human activities.

Historians say that the troubadours — the poets and musicians of the Middle Ages — discovered and propagated the art of writing love letters, love poetry, songs and expressed emotions that were daring and bold and yes, taboo. They spoke of the lofty ideal of pursuing love at all costs. It was a rebellion of sorts. Many of these love-struck artists were, in fact, killed by the establishment that felt threatened by this romantic movement. But surely, in the eyes of its promoters, to die for love is the highest virtue and glory.

It would be off the mark to think that “true love” as we know it did not exist before the troubadours came on the scene. Surely, it must have. And the same can be said in societies where the free pursuit of romantic love is not the norm. From our Western mindset, it is hard to imagine how love can exist outside the culture of freedom as we know it. How can a woman be married to someone without having gone through courtship? Shouldn’t people feel an attraction, at the very least, or better yet, be swept off their feet and overcome by the sweet expressions of love from the other?

A friend of mine who had a conversation with an old Hindu woman about the reality of love in an arranged marriage recalls being moved by her comment. She said, “In your society, you fall in love. In ours, we learn to love.”

What she said spoke volumes about commitment, patience and devotion — three things that Western romantic love likes to talk about and extol but are quickly discarded when the thrill is gone. Perhaps there are still some things we can learn from ways that seem antiquated, and yes, primitive.

Sometimes, I find myself returning to that stolen conversation on the plane and wonder what has happened to Ishrak, the beautiful and bold Saudi woman who spoke to us. Did she get married then, or was her father really sick? If she did marry under those circumstances, is she happy? I have no idea if she is happy but going by statistics, she is probably still married. That’s more than I can say for many people who “freely” chose their partners.

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes
Sunday, August 3, 2008

The OFW  (overseas Filipino worker), who used to be known as OCW (overseas contract worker), is now an integral part of our national culture and consciousness — as Pinoy as pakbet and adobo. It is a cultural template that came to be primarily because our country could not — and still cannot — provide enough employment for its citizens. People have had to find jobs abroad to earn enough to clothe, feed and care for their constantly growing families that, to add to their problems, their faith discourages them from keeping small.

OFWs have been dubbed by the very system that created them as “heroes” for bringing home dollars that provide much needed economic benefits to their families and, consequently, to the system itself. And while they may in fact be a big factor why our country has not collapsed despite the culture of inertia, corruption and government mismanagement that plague it, OFWs are, in their own view, reluctant heroes, to be sure.

One, most of them really have no choice but to go abroad for lack of opportunities here. Two, many of them will abandon the “hero” label in a heartbeat if they can simply find some way to feed their families and stay in the Philippines at the same time. We know that they and their loved ones pay too high a price for the economic benefits they enjoy. And this includes being away from their loved ones and missing out as their family stories are written. They are absent from family pictures, albums, house blessings, graduations, births, birthdays, anniversaries and family reunions because ironically, they have to earn their money elsewhere to finance all this.

They have children who are fed and clothed but are orphaned of at least one parent. Their main consolation is, at least, the people they love are experiencing these wonderful economic benefits even if they cannot physically be part of it and enjoying with them.

I have met many OFWs during my travels abroad and even now that I live parttime in Sydney. I have observed that as much as they are the providers and the sustainers of life back home they, too, need care and sustenance which many of them hardly get. A lot of them complain about being trapped or doomed to being lonely and missing out on life just so their loved ones can have a better life.

This article is about the caring and encouragement these reluctant heroes, who up hold the sky up for our families and our society, need on their end. Here are a few things to keep in mind when relating to the fathers, mothers, kuyas, ates, uncles, aunts and other relatives who have left us temporarily to keep the rest of us alive.

1. Relate to them as people, not just as providers.

Many times, the relationship between OFWs and their families back home is sadly reduced to an almost solely economic one. A lot of OFWs complain that most of the time, they only hear from the beneficiaries of their hard-earned salaries when the roof needs fixing, the tuition needs paying, someone is sick, or a relative needs money. They feel like slaves trapped in a cycle of backbreaking work in order to grant their families’ wishes.

Although I live abroad, I’m what you may call an OFW in reverse. A big part of my family is in Sydney, and I come quite often to Manila to earn and pay for the house, schooling, food, electricity, etc. As an “Aussie W,” as Danny Javier likes to call me, I go through the same loneliness and deprivation that regular OFWs go through, although not as intensely and desperately. At least I am able to go back every few months and stay for a few weeks unlike the majority who go home only once every year or two and stay only for a couple of weeks.

2. Find more things to write or communicate to them about other than asking for money.

The main loss that OFWs feel is the deprivation of affection from their loved ones. It starts off as a physical loss which they and their families feel initially. After a while, when the dust has settled and the reality sets in that the relative will be gone for quite a while, indifference can creep in. Families can get used to their member being far away, leading to an alienation that can be most painful especially for the person who is away.

A soon-to-be-released documentary I watched a few days ago showed a group of Filipino teachers employed in the United States who felt a lot of frustration while doing video chats with their families. Apart from presenting a list of things they needed financed, many of their family members had little else to talk to them about.

Things changed dramatically when one of the teachers committed suicide due to sheer loneliness. After that, the family video chats became less of an asking or begging session, and more of a genuine exchange of love and caring. This is what OFWs miss the most. So make sure they are kept in the loop and abreast of what’s going on in everyone’s lives.

3. Constantly shower the OFW with gratitude.

There is nothing more gratifying than being appreciated for the sacrifices one makes. A simple, heartfelt “thank you” from a loved one can be profoundly uplifting to someone who is feeling the alienation and meaninglessness of living in some foreign place. It can give one a sense of purpose, direction and reward for a job well done. Gratitude can be a tonic that revitalizes the OFW to continue working under lonely, stressful conditions.

4. Don’t blame them for being away.

Many times, the pain OFWs feel can be a double whammy. Not only is it difficult to be away from their families, it hurts them even more when they are blamed for everything that is wrong with their relationships with their loved ones. Everything is dumped on their lap because they are not present to fix things. While their absence may very well be a factor in why certain things are wrong, e.g. why his son has taken to drugs, why the daughter failed in school or ran away, why the family was cheated of its savings, or whatever else can go wrong, it does not really help the situation to pin the accusation solely or needlessly on someone who is helpless at the moment because he is abroad and is therefore not in a position to fix things. 

Instead of blaming, families could attempt to engage one another, including the overseas member in a serious conversation about what together they can do about the situation.

5. Encourage them to get a life outside of work.

While the OFW may not really choose to live abroad but for necessity, it can be a great learning opportunity to learn a new language, understand a new culture, meet new friends and enrich one’s life overall. Many people on both sides of the fence, at home and abroad, mistakenly tend to view the situation largely as one of pure sacrifice with little joys to anticipate wherever one is.

That’s really too bad because being abroad can be a great learning experience in independence, creativity, culture, adjustment and discovery. I’ve been amazed at how some of our countrymen have built happy lives in remote, seemingly inhospitable cultures. It is wonderful how they can make something good out of a bad situation.

For families at home, it is OK to encourage the OFW to pursue personal growth and happiness. Some may worry that growth or embracing their situation can cause them to be estranged from their significant others back home. That can be a valid worry. While it is necessary to remind them to be anchored to the family, it is also important to slacken just a bit the chains or ties that bind.

6. Don’t forget to greet them on their birthdays, Christmas, New Year, Father’s Day, etc.

These special days may not seem as special or have the same urgency to the people at home, but believe me, to the one who left and is living in some alien place, to be forgotten on a special day is a pain that can induce overwhelming sadness. This is especially true when all the other Filipinos they work with receive greetings, gifts and calls from their loved ones back home.

7. Put aside some of the money the OFW sends home for a rainy day.

Many families who are beneficiaries of the OFW’s blood, sweat and tears have the attitude that daddy or mommy, kuya or ate will always provide. Thus they spend on trivial unimportant things and are caught flatfooted when the job contract is not renewed and the money runs out. They soon discover that all that sacrifice was for naught and they are all back where they started!

8. When they come home, make sure to be around for them and for events where the returning relative can experience the family life he or she has missed.

Many OFWs come home for that rare visit looking forward to family bonding, only to discover that the people he wants to spend time with are busy, or worse, not interested to be with him/her. They discover that they have become strangers to their families and only token greetings and affection are accorded them. They do not feel integrated, only accommodated. Their presence after a long absence may even be seen as disruptive to the household’s daily routine.

This can be a big disappointment and may even discourage the OFW from coming home as often. Losing a reason to come home is a tragedy that he and his family can ill afford.

The OFW phenomenon is here to stay. Thank God modern communication can somehow ease its alienating effects on families. But even as we learn to live with it, we should continually find ways to keep OFW families from becoming dysfunctional despite the absence of some of its members. The family is one of our nation’s stronger institutions, our joy and our treasure. We owe it to ourselves and our countrymen to keep it intact, even under the worst of circumstances.

* * *

This is the last call for those wishing to attend the 42nd run of Tapping the Creative Universe Workshop. The next session runs Aug. 4 to 8 and concludes Aug. 11. It will be held from 7 to 9 p.m. at 113 B. Gonzales, Loyola Heights, Quezon City. Workshop cost is still P5,000. Please contact emailjimp@gmail.com or call Ollie at 0916-8554303 or 426-5375 for any queries or for reservations. Visit http://tappingthecreativeuniverse.com for the syllabus, FAQ, testimonials and other details.

Boboy and I had a fun evening last week  teaching the kids at the Pinoy Dream Academy ( a reality TV show about artists in training)  how to be in a group. It was a strange feeling for me to enter the academy again since my stint as ‘headmaster’  two years ago. The physical layout had changed and the whole cast of characters, students, faculty save for Monet Silvestre, Kitchie Mlina and Joey Reyes had changed as well. Nevertheless, it was great to be there and  see the staff behind the show and to visit.

We taught the kids how to harmonize, to think as one unit when singing with a group, to listen to each other, and a few other techniques to speed up the gelling process which they needed to do to sing as three separate groups that weekend.

I felt I was looking at the same type of kids I was helping train two years back–wide-eyed, lean and hungry for fame and fortune. People ask me constantly how I feel about the new batch. The main difference between the two, and I admit I say this because I was more emotionally involved with PDA 1,  is the earlier group seemed to have had it in them  in a more fierce and intense way. People like Panky, Rosita, Yeng, Iya, JR, Irish, Ronnie, Yvan and the rest had that yearning to be somebody in a way that was more palpably felt by the viewers. Some gave it their all in  brief shining moments. But what great moments they were. Some are still glowing up to now. Some, although not present in the TV world as of the moment will still, I believe, make their mark in some way someday. We will see.

Batch 1 also had the advantage of being the first group to tell this type of story to a TV audience in the Philippines– the story of artists on the make with all its sordid details. Batch two has the burden of being compared. Don’t get me wrong. I am not being negative about Batch 2. There are some students there  that stand out as well.  I like some of them especially Bugoy and Liezl maybe because they do not fit the pretty boy-mestiza mold of the regular, run-of-the-mill  ‘young stars’ currently shining in the firmament. Their talent shines easily and brightly.  I wish all of them the best.

*     *     *

Still on PDA mode, I enjoyed a lunch with some of the students of batch 1. Yeng, Ronnie, JR and Irish joined me for a late lunch  at Ebisu  in Eastwood the other day. It was great reminiscing with them, and talking about their take on what they went through. I’ve always imagined what it’s like for them to now watch youtube episodes of their lives in the academy then. They admitted feeling good  watching  their teachers cheer every performance they did which was not obvious to them as they were performing live then. We also  had a good laugh at some of the  then ‘burning’ issues they went through. The pain and tears have  lost their sting in the past two years and had been redefined as growing pains.

I did appreciate and relish their view that  the Company and I, and the entire teaching staff had prepared them well for the world outside. I was surprised and touched to hear them quote verbatim, the five rules of creativity I had taught them which they said they try to live by. We had great bonding that day. I am  grateful and proud to see these former raw talents on the way to promising careers or at the very least become performers on the make with the right tools and attitude which we inculcated in them.

Some of them have achieved much, but it seems that they are hungrier now than when they entered the academy. The taste of success is sweet and intoxicating. One can never have enough!

Good luck guys!  There’s a whole big audience waiting to see you shine–again and again.

*      *      *
TCU begins in a few days. If you’re still dilly-dallying about joining, write to emailjimp@gmail.com NOW. Or call 4265375 and 0916-8554303 and ask questions or make a reservation. Chase the dream before it gets away.

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE
Sunday, July 27, 2008

Due to recent budget cuts and the spiraling cost of energy, THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL has been turned off! We apologize for the inconvenience.  — Forwarded text message

We are all witnessing it, and many are experiencing it firsthand — businesses closing, layoffs, downsizing, being declared redundant, restructuring, rising prices of everything and other doomsday scenarios unfolding all over. Everywhere I look, I wonder at how people are managing or will manage their lives during this bleak season. According to the economic analysts on CNN, BBC, and other cable TV channels, it doesn’t look like we have hit rock bottom and no one knows how long it will take for this current crisis to unravel. In short, there can only be more bad news ahead.

And while all this can scare anyone out of his or her wits, the whole scene has a familiar ring to it. Remember the ‘70s when we woke up to a gas shortage so severe that each car owner could buy only up to 10 liters a day and only if they had government-issued coupons? Remember the long lines at the pump, with restless and nervous drivers cooling their heels in their cars? Remember how bleak everything seemed? Remember gasoline rising 30 cents and the rallies and deaths that followed? Yet, somehow, things found their way back to normalcy.

Every time we look at the horizon and see a gathering storm, we seem to forget how we coped in earlier perilous times. At every occurrence of crisis, we act like innocents being slaughtered for the first time. It is totally understandable to see panic in our present situation, with the price of gas price rising not just by a measly 30 centavos, but by one peso every week! Admittedly, we live in different times and there is probably very little solace we can take in comparing today’s reality with earlier crises. Yes, the world has changed a lot since the late ‘70s.

And yet, I dare say, perhaps more as an act of faith, that there is something, some built-in strength in us, that will make us overcome these daunting obstacles just as we did before.

I remember, when I was a young boy, being mesmerized every time my mother and her siblings would talk about the war years. World War II brought really hard times when, as a people, our parents had to reinvent their lives under a hostile occupational force. The threat to everyday living must have been far greater and more immediately direct then than what we are experiencing now, since not only did they have to worry about where to get the next gas tank fill-up or meal, they also had to avoid being arrested, incarcerated, tortured or killed whenever they had a simple run-in with the brutal and mercurial Japanese forces. 

Those times demanded a lot, and many times, it meant great sacrifice through pain and suffering. When you read about accounts of survivors of great upheavals, you wonder what it took to survive and pick up the pieces to eventually rebuild their lives and thrive. One thing I am sure of is that giving up and lying dead by the wayside was not an option for those who eventually reached the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. They had some things going for them which, at the time, they didn’t know they possessed, and one of them was character. In a major way, the horrific situation was the defining moment that made them the people they eventually turned out to be. No wonder historians proclaimed our parents’ generation as the greatest generation that ever lived.

There was a special toughness about them. In a way, they were a “no excuse” generation. They felt responsible and were answerable for their own survival and that of their loved ones. They were self-reliant. They did whatever it took to live through hell, dust off the ashes and build a new, more prosperous future. They had no moral ambiguity, and were decisive because they had to be.

Similarly, although more extremely, in his 1946 book Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl wrote about living as a concentration camp inmate under the Germans and shared his insights on the human condition under great duress.

He described how they lived and the commonality of their experience. But more than the reactions of his fellow inmates, he wanted to find out if there was a way he could predict who would survive the camp and who would not. In his findings, he came upon the astounding conclusion that the survivors consisted of people who felt invested in something that would still occur in some future. There were those who wanted to see their newborn sons, or who wanted to publish their life’s work, for example. More importantly, he noticed that those who had plans for some future outside the camp chose to entertain them and were motivated by them. 

The key point was that everyone had a choice at all times on how to cope, although not everyone was aware of it. And the ones who were aware of their choices and acted on these lived to experience a future. The capacity to see beyond the present darkness, Frankl noted, is a winning trait that all true survivors possess.

Many times, we define life by the outer conditions and situations which we have no control over, and we end up feeling helpless and victimized. We forget that while the objective condition is a given, our take on it is not. It is something left for us to create. We can give it any value we want — positive, negative, exciting, scary, challenging, inspiring — it’s up to us! Our biggest problem might be our lack of awareness. We are simply not aware of the autonomy we possess to define what we wish to experience.

I was talking to my son about taking on a certain job and I could feel his hesitation. He finally expressed his fear that he may get bored or may not get over his negative feelings about certain people he has to deal with. Feeling his fears, I pointed out to him that boredom and negative feelings are not conditions dictated to him by the world. These are purely internal matters over which he has 100-percent control. He could allow himself to succumb to these transient negative moods or he could decide to summon a different, more positive experience.

Every time I feel “cornered” by so-called negative situations, or when I feel the world ganging up on me, I try to remind myself that no one can give me a bad time without my permission. They can only do so if I allow them to, and I will only say “yes” to them if I am not conscious that I have a choice about how to feel. This knowledge empowers me to be creative and find new ways to experience the world.

I like to ask my creativity classes to find the difference between two activities — say, climbing Mt. Everest, and changing the oil in one’s car. They automatically assume that climbing Mt. Everest is the superior, more desirable experience. Then I ask, “What if you are the type who has a fear of heights and dislikes snow, and who happens to love auto mechanics — wouldn’t changing the oil of your car then be a more desirable experience?”

The difference lies really in the one who is experiencing the activities.

So I ask, what are the more positive responses we can have to the high prices and the instability around us? One, we can read about it and understand all the issues to be better anchored in this choppy sea of storms we find ourselves in. We can also remind ourselves that we have been through something like this before and we survived. In fact, we are probably in a better position, character-wise, than citizens of richer countries who have lived in a prosperous and stable environment for so long. We could teach them a thing or two about rolling with the punches.

To the description “the greatest generation to have ever lived” which has been used to describe the people who lived though WWII, I wish to add, “so far.” We are in a new time now, and who knows what kind of men and women will rise to the occasion and define the spirit of greatness that can stand up to its new challenges and thrive?

If the older generation outlived and defeated the Great Depression, the War, fascism and occupation, and even managed to create prosperity for the world, today’s generation is faced with the greater challenges of saving the environment, inventing a more sustainable future and creating a new, more equitable economic system. Al Gore has posed the challenge to the US to be oil-free in 10 years. The Green New Deal group, an organization of environmentalists, scientists and economists, has warned that we have only 100 months to fix the world. This time frame is roughly equal to the duration of World War II.

Let us not stop dreaming, then, of life beyond all these storms. As Frankl wrote, we have a lot of choices even in the tightest and direst of situations. Every crisis is a call to greatness. If we surmount this, we may just steal the well-deserved thunder from our elders and claim the title of”the greatest generation” that has ever lived.

* * *

Do you want to be free of blocks and creative inertia? Would you want to meet and bring to life aspects of yourself that know what greatness, happiness, endless creativity and joy are all about? Here’s an experience of a lifetime:

The 42nd run of “Tapping the Creative Universe (TCU),” a workshop of “creative awakening,” is on once again. If you are in search of a more empowered, creative and joyful life, this is for you. Get rid of your blocks and start living. NOW is the time to do it.

The next session runs Aug. 4-8 and concludes Aug. 11. It will be held from 7 to 9 p.m. at 113 B. Gonzales, Loyola Heights, Quezon City. Workshop cost is still P5,000. Please contact emailjimp@gmail.com or call Ollie at 0916-8554303 or 426-5375 for any queries or for reservations. Visit http://tappingthecreativeuniverse.com for the syllabus, FAQ, testimonials and other details.

Sorry to upload this primer again.

I get a lot of queries and questions that show a hesitation about attending the upcoming creativity workshop. Due to the number of people asking  via email, I have decided to make a Q and A to give everyone an better idea of what the TAPPING THE CREATIVE UNIVERSE (TCU) workshop is  about.

Can you describe the workshop?

It’s a workshop that unleashes dormant creativity. It is where the participants uncover, face and overcome the issues that block their productivity, creativity and joy.

What kind of people have taken TCU?

All types—CEOs, housewives, students, engineers, businessmen, teachers, writers, painters, nuns, military, priests, counselors, retirees, OFWs, trainees, etc. of all ages from 18 to past 70. Normally, I do not accept students below 18 unless I can talk to them first and determine if they are ready for it.

Why is that?

The workshop works best with people who have actually lived and worked and faced disappointments and frustrations that have affected or blocked their natural, in-born creativity. I feel that many times, people who are too young react to the workshop intellectually, and not in the experiential manner that I would want them to. Thus, deep and lasting change does not happen as much.

Why six days? Is there a one day run?

If I could hold it longer, it would be better. It works quite well when people learn new concepts and try them out ‘live’ at home or at the office or other situations. They are able to experience the workshop in real life and not just theoretically.

In the US and Australia, I have offered the workshop as one day affairs because people are too busy to commit to 6 days. Strangely enough, it works quite well too as former attendees can attest.

How exactly does the TCU help unblock people?

By allowing one’s creative self to emerge above the contrived, made up self.

TCU is an action-oriented workshop which believes that when people get a glimpse of their innate creative selves, they will re-experience and remember a joy that they had forgotten. The exercises, habits, tasks and the concepts introduced in the workshop are tried and tested ways to get people to always be in touch with their creative states. By doing certain things and following certain steps, one can be constantly creative and happy. I suspect these practices can serve people for life! I know it helps me with mine. I have been on a creative streak for many years now.

If I am, say, a writer, or a CEO, or a housewife for example, how can the workshop help me?

First of all, let me be clear. The workshop will not teach you how to write, or cook, or do business, dance,  sing or whatever you do in your occupation. I do not know what to teach you about such things. However, I can awaken in you the enthusiasm and joy of being who you are and what you do and teach you the practice to be able to do things as well as you can and do so consistently in a creative and joyful manner. There’s a method to it although many times, it s a spontaneous experienv=ce that seems to happen. I will introduce to you the practices of being the best, joyful person that you can be and  doing what you do.

What’s the batting average among those who have taken it? How successful has it been in transforming lives?

I’d say in all humilty and honesty that the success rate is probably about 90 percent. Five years after people have taken it, I still get congratulations from students for helping them with their newly transformed lives. Many came to the workshop stuck in their lives, stuck between marriages, occupations, dreams, relationships, or simply unable to overcome inertia. Many have done really wonderful work in getting new phases of their lives going after the workshop.

What if I am a shy person? Will I be forced to participate?

Participation is encouraged but not forced. It’s best to seek your level of comfort and start from there. But let me say that people only get from the workshop what they are willing to put in. Progress is an individual thing. Some really go the whole 9 yards while some are more timid. That’s OK. Nobody will force anyone to be or do anything.

Didn’t you teach the same thing at the Ateneo de Manila University?

Yes, I taught it for a number of semesters. In a semester run under the confines of a university, the dynamic is different but it works as well too. I feel very honored that many students, years after they graduated are telling me that my course was one of the subjects they not only learned a lot from, but enjoyed the most. One of them put it well when she said that it was a ‘life course’ that has done her well in many facets of her life even after school.

Anything else you want to say?

TCU is a workshop for people who want change in their lives. This is not an easy workshop to join and finish. It is not always being offered, There is a lot of work involved. I will work hard and you will work harder but I guarantee you, you will love to do the work. I only facilitate. You will discover and wake up to your own greatness.

When: August 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 11

Time: 7 to 9PM

Where: 113 B. Gonzales, Loyola Heights, QC

How much: Still 5000 Pesos

Please contact emailjimp@gmail.com  or call Ollie at 0916-8554303 or 426-5375 for any other queries or for reservations. Visit http://tappingthecreativeuniverse.com for the syllabus, and testimonials and more details.