thesis...graduation...and lessons of reality

Gin and I are at the Philippine Stock Exchange building right now in Ortigas....spending thousands of pesos for photocopies of financial statements of banks.

                                                                                                                  Above:  Gin and I

So this is what a graduating student feels like. Our graduation day will be in October...somehow, the reality of us finally leaving La Salle has not been acknowledged by my mind just yet. Just when I was feeling like a college student, I'd have to adapt to another change...the business world...the world of banks and stocks and money...Perhaps I'll work at this building. It seems nice. Everyone walks around like a robot, carrying stacks of folders. Silent. Busy. Serious. So this would be my future. How fun...

Continuation later...

Now is later.

3:20pm and still at PSE. Gin and I have been here since 8:30am. I just had my first day of my monthly period yesterday and I'm bleeding here of boredom. hehe. (is it even appropriate to include that detail here?) Just wondering, what will become of the thousand pesos worth of financial statements after our thesis...Scratch paper. Definitely. Scratch paper worth P5.00 each for the SEC printed ones. P2.50 each for the PSE photocopied ones excluding gas, parking fees, taxi fare, bus fare, jeep fare, food, etc... What expensive scratch papers. Sorry if I seem to be over obsessing on the cost of photocopies and printing. I just feel that the thesis is really getting to us. Perhaps, not just the "thesis" per se...but the feeling that "this is it". This is our chance to finish on time. If we fail this, we don't graduate in October...and I NEED to graduate in October.

Graduation.....I've witnessed this special event for so many times. As a member of the LASALLIAN AIDE, we are responsible for ushering parents, faculty and graduates during baccalaureate mass, graduation rehearsal and during the graduation day.

"It is indeed ironic that we spend our school days yearning to graduate and our remaining days feeling nostalgic about our school days" ~Isabel Waxman

During those events, I've seen parents cry...applaud...and do some silly things to express their happiness for their child has graduated from De La Salle University.  I've heard a number of graduate speeches. Truly amazing ones. Ones which inspire me to continue working hard in school...I need to be reminded sometimes of what is it I'm studying for because sometimes, I just forget. And I question. What the heck am I memorizing these financial terms for? What for? Who for? For me? But what if this is not what I want...What if I choose not to? I'd not finish school. Not be able to get a job. Not be able to earn for my family. And so I choose to continue...with my college life as a good studious student.

Left: My La Salle ID. A pass to a good university. A symbol that I am a student. That I will someday graduate.

It's funny how most people have the same goal. To finish high school. Get into a well- known university. Finish college. Get a good job. Get promoted. Have a good life. Die a painless death...I believe that most of us leave this world not knowing what exactly it is we wanted in life. Ever since we were children, we were taught that "this" should be the goal in life. This is the right way to live. Get high marks. Finish school. Even our parents live to fulfill this goal. Even those before them did. But is this really our purpose? Were we put into this earth to spend loads of money on tuition so in the future, we earn more money at work...  

"In the business world, everyone is paid in two coins:  cash and experience.  Take the experience first; the cash will come later"  ~Harold Geneen

The Allegory of the Cave stirred up questions in me...I wonder about the people around me. If what I see and what they are portraying is the real person inside. I wonder about my school. If the theories they teach me is what actually applies to the real world. The "real world". I hear those words often. Do we say this because we are aware that there is a "fake" world. A world made up by people so that everyone would have identical goals in life, standard ethics, uniform way of existing...Most of my 21 years of existence I believe has revolved around a life that was made for me. That was dictated on me. Not just by my parents. But society....culture, rules, politics, religion...I don't blame anyone for it. It's just how we, as people, are accustomed to survive.  But "who" made those realities real? I question what I am faced with everyday but I made it real. The fake world I made is within me. In my mind. My fake world is my fantasy world. A world where there is no pressure. No stress. No unhappiness. Does such a world exist? Can I create one...

Image source: google images

Plato's view of the real world is something beyond appearance. From my understanding, Plato believes that the fake world is darkness while the real world is the one which is beautiful...for him, my fantasy world is actually the real world. And what I am living in, is the fantasy...Plato said that once a person is freed from the cave, he would return to call on his fellowmen but those people would choose to stay in the cave....Ignorance is bliss. This has been true for so many of my experiences. The more I know of the truth, the more miserable I become. When I was a child, the world was perfect. I believed that people ARE good. But now, well, let's just say, there are people who proved to me that SOME people are by nature, evil...but this opinion is not unwavering. I can't avoid that sometimes, my view of the world and of people is disproved then I begin again, to doubt.

To doubt is an important exercise of a person's mind. For me, to doubt doesn't mean that you cannot believe in anything....it means, that you choose what you believe in. To doubt makes us search for truth. Perhaps, this could be another way of looking at Plato's cave. When the person escaped from the cave, he saw light which in the beginning was painful to him since he never saw such a site but after his eyes adjusted to the light, he was engrossed by it. This light showed him the outside of the cave. What was beyond the cave. This light could mean "truth" or "knowlege". Maybe this way of looking at it applies more to people. Sometimes we choose to be ignorant because the light of the truth hurts us. It is difficult to KNOW. Specially if what we find out is far different from what our mind has been used to. We could choose to go back to the darkness. To live in a cave...safe...familiar...something we've been acquainted with all our lives. Sometimes we hold on to much on what is easy that we'd rather have the lie than the truth. But if we go beyond the cave. We get hurt. We'd be confused. But, we'd know. And in the end, the things we've seen in the cave would have an explanation. The reality of what we've imagined to be real would be clear to us.

They say school doesn't just teach us theories. School teaches us how to face real life. Maybe this is why despite I don't agree with quizzes and memorizing, I always go back to it. And I enjoy it. It is in school that I've experienced some of the light from my cave. It is in school that I meet people. Different kinds. It is in school that I learn about cheating and at the same time, I learn about honesty. Graduation, perhaps, is not just an event which means I've finished putting up with the long hours of thesis making. It's a reminder that I'm ready to face work life because I'm equipped with the basic knowledge for it.

"The trouble with learning from experience is that you never graduate" ~Doug Larson

My Hero

If you view my profile on this blog, you'd know who my hero is...my grandfather. This guy is my hero...my leading man...my savior...the star in my life's play.This may not be a philosophical blog...but I simply cannot continue on with an online journal without telling the world how amazing he is. I was all dressed up to watch Superman tonight but then I saw him and what was happening to him and I realized that this hero on the screen can wait because my true to life hero needed me at home...

Today is the third day of his chemo cycle. The doctor said that this is the day his body would react to the chemo. I stayed beside him. There's nothing I could do really but be there. Watching him shiver with pain was heartbreaking for me. I wish it was me instead.

He is my hero for so many reasons. And no matter how I try to explain how much of a good person he is...it'll never be enough. But I'll try.

This guy was born in Bicol. His family was poor. Both his parents finished elementary. They made a living out of fishing and selling these fish at the market. His father was smart. A wiz when it came to arithmetic and this guy inherited this from him. (I didn't). His father drank too much though which gave their family some problems...and I believe this may have shaped this guy to become the person he is now.

He was smart and he did everything to finish school. Schools at that time were miles away from the houses of students so he had to trod for miles everyday to get to school. He studied hard and with the help of a relative, he graduated. In college, he took up Accountancy. Being the wiz that he is, he was one of the top 20 in the CPA exam. The board exams then were not in multiple choice format....which I think made those who pass more admirable. He had a passion for Law, and so continued on with studying law...but because he had to work for his new family, he never had a chance to take the bar exam.

He met my grandmother, who is a daughter of a well-to-do Spaniard. She, unlike my grandfather, lived in a big house...but because my grandfather was very charming, she fell in love with him and they married. After that, they had 5 kids and the rest is history. He continued to work hard until he became a top executive at a bank.

The last child is my dad...He and my mom married young and so while saving money, they lived with my grandparents. Because of some events, mom and dad had to leave. And so, my grandfather became my second dad. He raised me like his own daughter....He spoiled me but taught me about the reality of life. He gave me everything but taught me to be responsible with what I have.

This guy inspired so many people in his office. He took me to his office a lot when I was young and there I observed who he is to those he worked with...He's the type of executive who would make janitors and security guards feel proud of themselves. His humble words and advice to people let them feel their worth. I remember, he used to scold me when I wanted to make use of the photocopier at his office 'coz I needed lots of copies for school. He told me that I shouldn't take advantage of the things at the office. Of course, nagtampo ako. But then, thinking about it...he was the kind of person who never took advantage of people. At home and at work, he helped those who are less fortunate.

I used to joke to him that he is "Mr. P.R." coz he is so clever when conversing with people. He made friends everywhere. We would label him "a stockholder at Rustans" coz the guards there loved him coz he was so friendly that they'd reserve a parking space specially for him. No one else would park at that space. It was his. The waiters and sales ladies in Ayala loved him. When strolling at the mall, these people would wave to him and greet him and he would wave back. It sometimes looks as if he was a candidate for something or campaigning for the next election... 

This guy loved the mall. He came to the mall everyday. Not to buy things. To see people...to view life moving. I love going to the mall with him. He is old. But he is more fun to be with than most of my friends.

He can't go to the mall now. He is in bed most of the time with an oxygen attached.

When I found out about his cancer, I didn't talk to anyone for a while. I was in denial. This guy was the reason I finished school. Without him, I wouldn't have had the money to go to La Salle. He is the reason I have anything that I have. He worked for us. At his age, he chose to continue working. For us. He was, and still is, my hero because my whole life, he saved me from being alone and feeling abandoned. He didn't allow what happened to us to mess up my chance of having a normal life.

His illness is a wake up call for me. That I have to grow up. That I have to step up and be an adult...He was, for me, permanent. Never ending. Him, dying, never occured to me. In my plans, I would grow old and he would still be here.

I have never faced death before. Death was never a part of my plans. Especially with him...I don't understand death. I just don't. And perhaps, until now, I don't know if I can accept death when it comes.

In our home, I am now the official grocer, driver and assistant nurse. I've never been so tired and so sleepy but it's time to take responsiblity...to realize that I have to do the things he used to do, but cannot do now.

He spoiled me and now I am spoiling him. Giving him everything he wants. I try to make him smile with every ounce of effort that I can give. When he wanted lechon for lunch, I left everything and did everything to find a Lydia's lechon branch. When we realized that we couldn't enter his room all the time because we might infect him because of his low immune system, I bought him the cutest walkie-talkie (with a justice league design. hehe) I could find so we could communicate even if the walls and door separate us.

His temperature reached 39.8 degrees tonight. I was scared. I am scared. Some people say that there's no cure for cancer. That the chemo would just extend the life of a cancer patient....please don't be true.

I am not ready...and maybe I'll never be ready. I don't like change. Not this kind. Not the kind that would take my hero from me.

In a letter I wrote him, I promised him a jaguar. I know it seems impossible. But I will do everything to get him that jaguar. One time at the hospital, he told me..."...Boring dito. I miss the mall..." I wanted to bring him the mall...wanted to give him everything. Still want to.

...so now you know a little more about him. This guy who saved my life. I'm sure all of you have a hero in your life. Most true heroes don't need to be superman. They don't need a cape to fly and lift you from downfalls. They don't need x-ray eyes to see inside of you and know what you are capable of. They don't need super strength to fight for you when others hurt you. Real life heroes touch lives without extraordinary powers. My hero gave me my life. My hero is an ordinary person who chose to sacrifice to save us...and for that, he'd always be more powerful for me than any superhero on TV.

" If you're in a bad situation, don't worry it'll change. 

If you're in a good situation, don't worry it'll change.  "

~John A. Simone, Sr.

Philosophy class was a step for me to discover the different viewpoints of change and the people (philosophers) who created theories with regard to change and "not changing". As everything and anything else, there is always two ways of looking at things...Change is not an exception. I sometimes can think of change as something positive...the only "something" that could remove all the hardships...and all the problems...and all the present situations I would like to leave. On the other hand, change could mean farewell to a happy experience...leaving the present for something that I don't want. The future is a scary thing. The future after all, doesn't have to be months from now or years from now. It could a minute after or an hour after this. There's always something bound to change. Even routines change. I am a person who loves having a routine. I like order. My friends even refer to me as "O.C." (Those who don't know what this means. Go figure.) I like to know what I'm about to do at this moment and the moment after. But, routine gets boring after a while. Wearing the same color everyday gets boring. Uniforms. Seeing the same road everyday gets boring. Doing the same job. Completing the same homework. Staring at the same person all day. It's a dull way to live. Change is good...but as always, it depends.

Change...is...goodbye. Because no matter how I look at it, whether positive or negative. There's always the process of "moving on" involved...something which I'm very bad at. I am the worst at accepting change...especially if this change would have to deal with people I'm close to...Change for me is being left behind or having to leave without being given a choice at the matter.

How much have I changed...Let me see. I guess looking how I've altered myself and how everything has led to the "me" in the present would involve reminiscing on what I was in the past.

I had curly hair. Not just the round curly kind at the ends. The kinky, can't be combed, yield sign shaped kind of hair. By 6th grade, my stepmom took me to the parlor and voila, a changed me came out. Super straight hair. Was I happy? I was. Finally, I learned the use of that complex invention called "comb" which I never used when I had curly hair. Was change good here? Yes it was. Here, change was for my outer appearance. This simple change in my hair had a big effect on who I was. The "improvement" in my looks added a bit to my non-existent confidence. So here, change was good.

Other changes in my life however weren't as good. A physical make-over could never compare to an emotional change.

I guess one of my mistakes in how I handle change is that when I change, I expect everything around me to change with me. When I'm hurt and sad, I assume that those around me would feel the same. Adjust to me. But that can't be the case. I should be the one to change...be one with the change rather than force everything else to change...One painful lesson I've learned is that change, although it happens without warning, it can't be forced on people. A person can't be forced to change...especially with the way they feel.

If given a choice, I'd rather make change an option not something that is permanent and necessary. Change gives a lesson...helps us grow...but sometimes, it just ruins a person...I believe somehow, it ruined me.

The irony is...no matter how change ruins me...the only thing that could fix me is still that thing which ruined me, change.