When people ask me to define love, I say, "Love is like handing someone a gun, having them point it at your heart, and trusting them to never pull the trigger." (Sponge Bob)

When they ask me why I laugh at my mistakes and even write them with pride in my blogs, I say, "I'm not crazy. I just don't give a damn!" (Daffy Duck)

When one time I was conducting a group activity, a student asked what road sign I love the most, I said, "I like dead end signs. I think they're kind. They at least have the decency to let you know you're going nowhere…" (Bugs Bunny)

And when for the nth time a friend would ask me what do I get from writing, I'm not even sure if there are good old souls out there visiting my site, I just smile and say, "Kung gusto mong maging manunulat, eh di magsulat ka. Simple." (Bob Ong)

And last night when Eva said she wants to quit from her work because nobody believes in her, her boss got mad at her, she doesn't even have friends at her agency, and she's crying like hell, I said, "Either you stay to prove your worth or you quit and just show them you're a loser, you have to strive for your happiness." (MY original)

My CHOICES: I remained believing in love. I continued spicing up my mistakes and rewriting my life, accepting failure but keep on dreaming until words would fade into thin air.

Aug 10, 2008

The Five People I Might (Want to) Meet in Heaven

You see, when my time comes, I want to be as prepared as possible that even the people I would meet in Heaven is already playing in my wild imagination. But actually, death is still something I don't want to entertain because I have two little kids I wish to see grow and accept the world's challenges in my presence. Though creepy, the two books by Albom I just read made me realize that life is better lived if one considers death as something that comes unwarrantably.

Death distinguisheth not the kings from the subject, the wealthy man from the pauper, the old man from the youth, the wise man from the fool. Death maketh equals of all men. The size of the palace, the speed of the chariot, the title of thy breastplate and the gold thy possesseth matter nary a bit. Death surely conquereth thee when thy hour is nigh. It is thy truthfulness to thine conscience and loyalty to thy God that shall save thee from the wrath of eternal fire.

Death is indeed indispensable. It comes like a thief in the night. Or even at daybreak that even the most powerful has no authority to command death to depart from him. And if I shall meet my Creator, these are the people I might meet or say want to meet:

1. my Father

This time, I won't be afraid to disclose my anger with him. Afterwhich, I would tell him how much I love him and longed for his presence in my growing up years. If given the chance to choose a father, I would still choose him. Why? Because the blood, the genes, every little fiber that traverses into my system that made me ME comes from him. He who has left me wounded but remained the father whom the Father had bestowed to bring me to life. Therefore, we are both blessed to be the father and daughter that God planned us to be. The pain and suffering that he has caused the child in me to grow immaturely and carry the burden as head of the family was destined to be for without these, I won't be as strong as I am now. Decisive. Principled. These are the lessons he has taught me.

2. my Mother

God made a woman soft as a rose's petals, shed tears to wash away the pain and a tender touch that can encourage even the most coward of all beings. This woman became my mother. She has the gentleness of a shepherdess, the calmness of the breeze but the firmness of an authority to respect. That of which, guided as to grow in full bloom in the absence of a father. The merit of bringing in harmony the hatred that filled our hearts to something of worth is my Mother. And I owe her this life of warmth and compassion behind a facade of firmness.

3. someone I don't expect to see

Whoever this person is might have been someone who has taught me something. And that something is what I am looking forward to of knowing when that time comes.

4. Carl Rogers (just a product of my imagination)

This renowned psychologist might tell me that he has taught me how to be more affective in my approach as a Counselor and Educator – to talk more with the heart than by always trying to rationalize things (Peace Mr. Ellis, I'm not referring primarily with your REBT stuff!). Mr. Rogers had made me realize that feelings are exclusive to every person. And that, a counselor should see beyond what is visible – from the nature of a client's stare, to his fidgeting fingers, to her breathing, and her feigned smile, to his eye movement, with the droop of her shoulder, or in the animation in his voice and the stature of his or her very own words. Know thyself. Person-centered -- not only the person of the client, but my own personhood as a counselor-educator. As the cliche goes: You cannot give what you do not have! So the "I" in my encounters is the most powerful tool to make or break a client. Self-actualization. Thanks for the powerful words.

5. a former reader of this blogsite (just another sinister hallucination… don't feel creepy, eh!)

This someone has encouraged me to write even the most stupid of my ideas. I may just have an average of two readers a day eversince I started this site but these patient souls who so everyday make it there habit to read a line or two inspire me to make use of these words called Byblos originally created by the Egyptians that of which the Greeks of long ago has modified adding five more letters (the vowels) to the bunch of letter symbols which they baptized as the alphabet. A name now used to define the new form of writing which I over-use (I hope not abuse and misuse) to elucidate the core of my existence -- that of which I am created for. Thanks to you who has taught me the virtue of just being ME.

How about you guys, who do you think will your five people be? Let me know so we can write them in this blank canvass others call BLOG but I name LIFE…

1 comment:

SandyCarlson said...

What a beautiful way to respond to this book. I once taught it in a high school Sunday School class. I wish I had thought of this! Next time....

Thanks for stopping by, Marjo. And thanks for your thoughtful comment.