Shifting Gears (Part 1)

The night before my graduation, I decided to go blog-hopping, just to have a good read before I go watch the newest episode of "Lost" and then go to sleep. I was able to come across Jessica Mendoza's blog through one of my friends, and I read about her own blog post about graduation.

With that, I was also able to think and ponder about my own graduation, my own way of going through change. And this is an enigmatic feeling for me, something that I cannot really describe fully and say that "this is it." Ironically, I received the fact that I was graduating as a dramatic change in my life, and yet I also felt that it's a single event that passes by, and once it's over, it's done. But digging deeper to the real meaning of this academic ritual, I believe that it is a time of acknowledging yourself that used to be, meeting a new you that is out there, waiting to be restructured.

So with that, I would like to describe this stage of transition, which is my own way of saying goodbye to almost fifteen years of required education and saying welcome to what lies beyond (I'm not saying that I will say goodbye to academics, it's just that I think that it will be different this time around. I am also anticipating my return for theological studies as well.

Yesterday, I went up the stage to receive my college diploma, together with my medals for graduating cum laude, as well as being the program awardee for philosophy. All the jitters, pretty strong heartbeats, and my support team (thank you, philo and hum friends, and a bit of the others too!) applauding me aside, I really saw this as pointing to two specific directions. First, looking back to all the good memories I had in college, all the gifts and blessings that I have received and have put forward, and second, moving on, treasuring and everything and at the same time learning to let go of what has happened, looking beyond what I am today and seeing what I could be.

As I realized, going up to the stage points to various memories on the hill where I stayed for four years.

First, it brought memories on being a college seminarian of San Jose. There goes the seminary structures, where we have to wake up early every day, go to Mass, and return after class for prayers, dinner, recreation, and study periods. It brings me back to the identity that I carry around, as a man of the cloth, with all the surprised reactions ("Magpapari ka ba talaga?!?!?!") and the thoughts, opinions, dispositions, and everything else that comes with the identity of the seminarian. It brought me back to all the fun moments and conflicts that come along with seminary formation - the personalities, the issues, the schedules, the spiritual, academic, communal, and apostolic life that we have lived. And of course, the overall growth that came along it.

And inseparable to that is my second set of memories, as an Atenean. It brought me back to my second family and community - the Philosophy block and the Deparment. It brought me to the discipline that we have altogether learned in doing philosophy and sharing our thoughts with each other, engaging ourselves in conversations (and jokes as well) while everyone passes by saying "Ano raw?" It brought me to the precious moments with my block, the various tambayan stories, the intellectual jokes, the games of bluff and tong-its, and all the times we have spent working and being together (yes, including those Calasanz long tests). It brought me to the times of maturity, of writing and reading philosophical texts and making sense of them at the right times and the right moments, making serious talk about various things such as growing up, facing the future, and even the mushy topics such as love and feelings over bottles of beer. And there are also that of immaturity, where we playfully joke about each other and make simple fun out of ourselves.

Yes, these are the college memories that I will keep, the college, and these are the ones that I'm definitely going to keep. These are the moments that I will not forget, the moments which remind me of the joys and tears, the laughing years of life in the hill.

Let's Call It A Regular Season

I wrote this just when the Los Angeles Lakers grabbed a win over the Minnesota Timberwolves with a 104-96 card. They have already won five straight and only have less than twenty games remaining to finish the season, with the top spot in the West, four games ahead of the Denver Nuggets, and placing second overall in the league, three games behind the strong Cleveland Cavaliers.

Perhaps after all the struggles and the attempts to stay on top, together with the efforts to keep up the passion of each and every member of the team, it would be fitting to ask one big question that would draw out important answers from the team: "What now?"

Yeah, what now?

What we have here is a banged up combination. Kobe Bryant has been struggling not just with injuries, but also with consistent shooting and overall orchestration. It seems that we have seen the Lakers' all-time scorer struggling with his own self. Last November, he was the Mamba, shooting less and facilitating the plays more (well, save for a few down-to-the-wire games). His evening performances left most of us thinking that the Lakers could indeed get the second crown.

I believe the avulsion fracture incident changed the course of the Lakers. With Kobe unable to score and play well (add to the AF a lot of other injuries that number twenty-four bore - knees, ankle, crotch, back spasms, and occasional sicknesses), the Lakers have lost momentum. KB would want to receive the ball, but would only end up with missed shots. His defense lost its sharpness either, because he tends to fall and limp away (as with what happened to him during the second match of the season against Cleveland). I think that at this point, we could say that Kobe starts to feel not the effects of growing old, but rather, of playing too much when he can rely on his teammates.

And I think that some of the fault in terms of teamplay lies on the rest of the Laker squad. Remember the five games without Kobe? I was comparing a few of the plays in these games with those when Kobe was back. It seems that most of those plays executed very well during the 4-1 run of the Lakers without Kobe were plays where the ball really goes around, with no designated "scorer." To-and-fro, as we would say.

However, the to-and-fro movement of the ball in the Lakers offense turns into "to-Kobe," most especially in tight situations. I have observed that when the shot clock and the game clock strikes only to a few seconds, what everyone wants to do is to dish the ball to Kobe and let him have his crazy shot. In a way, this makes good sense for a Lakers offense that is centered on a prime scorer. However, I do think that the ball has been passed to Kobe too much, and those on the D have already swarmed to him. Perhaps it is time for Kobe to listen what Pau Gasol told the media a few days ago, that he, or any other Laker player who is open and could score, has to receive a dish and score an extra basket. Remember that the ideal Lakers team is the non-Kobe-centric, that is, that the offense should freely flow and provide opportunities for easy baskets (not necessarily Kobe).

With that, I think that the issue with the plays now is the fact that Kobe should shoot less and pass more. Besides the Pau Gasol complaint which could attest to that, most of Lakers sports analysts focus on the relationship of the win and the field goal efficiency rating of the Lakers as a team and the number of times that Kobe shoots the ball as well as his percentage. Lo and behold, they have discovered that, in recent games, most if not all the wins of the Lakers were games where Kobe dished more than 3 assists and shot the ball for 20 or less times. The worst shooting nights of Kobe were, guess what, the nights against Charlotte and Orlando, two of the three games where they lost straight. Now, does it say something about the Lakers offense?

Again, I think it does. It reflects, on the bright side, the desire of Kobe to uplift the spirits of the already-bored Lakers who wants to get everything over with during the playoffs. Los Angeles as a team should know better than giving up leads or becoming sloppy in the fourth quarter after a 30-point game. Everyone has to remain on Overdrive and kill the opponent. So I believe that yes, it is a good thing that Kobe has to be there to hit the shots and provide the boost for this tired team. It is good that Kobe gets a hand on the shots that matter when they are losing. It is good that Kobe is there to catch his team and cover their loopholes. It is good that Kobe has to be a real Laker for the whole Lakers team.

But on the other side, the question regarding the necessity for Kobe to take the shots remain. The fact that Kobe HAS to take these last minute shots indicates that the Lakers as a team does not perform that well. This somehow suggests that they can't seal good victories as early as the half or before the fourth period. This suggests that, as previously mentioned, that they have to add fuel to the fire and maximize their capability as a team if they really want to go into the inner brackets of the playoffs as a team to be feared by everyone. I believe that the Lakers will be at their best when Kobe and Pau Gasol rests on the fourth period and are incredibly happy with how the team is performing, with the bench and the rest of the squad stretching their lead.

Apparently, in these last few games, it has never (or has rarely, if ever) happened. Are we saying that the Purple and Gold has succumbed to being lax on the final stretch? I have to give them credit to the well-fought games, despite of being branded as bad and mediocre. They have been through a plague of injuries and a rough schedule after their comfortable December set of games, coupled with the fact that all of the teams play against them with an intensity like that of the playoff games (and believe me, they cost a terrible lot of energy). And yet they have been playing well, with a pretty good win-loss record that even Denver or Dallas, the two and three specifically, could not match. The Lakers have indeed worked hard to stay at the top and bid for another title. But then, there are traces of laxity: an inefficient bench production, less action from those not named "Kobe Bryant," and the bigs moving and posting less and becoming soft all the more. These, I think, are the loopholes that become hindrances to big wins, problems that should be given solutions before playoffs come.

On a general note, if the Lakers continue to play the way they are right now, it might as well close this discussion and declare Cleveland the champions of 2010. LeBron James and the rest of the Cavs are hungry for a championship, and with the way they are playing right now, it seems that they could wear down any team that they will face in April and grab the trophy. But then, I still believe that the Lakers can make up for their lapses. It's never too late for a wake up call. I believe that the Lakers are still the best playoff team, having both skill and experience to go back-to-back (and a hungry Ron Artest to back that up).

So what to do right now, in these last twelve games of the regular season? I believe that it is now time to practice for the playoffs. They have to keep the flame alive and refuse to let go of the opponent. They have to have more dynamic plays, less of the "square offense" (Kobe driving to the lane while everyone else watches) and more of the efficient triangle offense (see more of Kobe and Ronron playing the post and the bigs moving around to get open shots), more efficient, high-percentage shots, and less Kobe-centricity.

And of course, the defense. It counts. Work all that well, and we have a championship team who will open the decade with a back-to-back championship.

The New Patrick Stump

From the scene kid of Fall Out Boy:

To this new clean cut guy of, umm, Fall Out Boy?

And does this mean that he's going to make some fresh material that is not so Fall Out Boy?

Bieber Bashing On The Way

"From The Earth To The Moon"

I consider this not only one of the earliest science fiction novels (in its plain sense), but also one which exhibits a setting which could be considered as a prototype of the steam-punk genre that we know today.

With all the equipment that they need, a Gun Club from the United States of America tried to construct a large cannon which they believe could reach the moon. Tings got more complicated… and eventually more exciting, when a Frenchman insisted on going inside the cannonball to be the first man on the moon.

I would have to say that this is an interesting JV read, along the lines of 20000 Leagues Under The Sea, an exploration of things that could be possible when pursued, which could be done when dreamed of and executed well.

And probably, we would end up as a moon-satellite had everything been done eighty years earlier.

The New "We Are The World"

It was only now that I was able to watch in MTV Asia the remake of "We Are The World," as a tribute to the victims and volunteers of the Haiti earthquake.

Those featured in the video (courtesy of wikipedia) are:
-Justin Bieber (why does this scenester-wannabe-who-sings-rap kid show up?)
-Nicole Scherzinger
-Jennifer Hudson
-Jennifer Nettles
-Josh Groban
-Tony Bennett
-Mary J. Blige
-A footage of MJ
-Janet Jackson
-Barbra Streisand
-Miley Cyrus (seriously.)
-Enrique Iglesias
-Jamie Foxx
-Wyclef Jean
-Adam Levine
-Pink
-BeBe Winans
-Usher
-Celine Dion
-Orianthi (the guitar goddess, if you've seen "This Is It")
-Fergie
-Nick Jonas (another one?!)
-Toni Braxton
-Mary Mary
-Isaac Salde
-Lil' Wayne (surprising that Weezy is here)
-Santana
-Akon
-T-Pain
-LL Cool J, Will.i.am, Snoopp Dogg, Busta Rhymes, Swizz Beatz, and Iyaz for the rap part
-Kanye West

and a whole lot of those on the background.

My Message As Samahan sa Pilosopiya Core

This message is originally meant to advertise the upcoming release of the Pilosopo Tasyo and the Seniors' Party, where everyone is invited to attend. But then, after reading Doc Guss's message to the seniors, it seems fitting to leave also a message from the outgoing senior core members of the Samahan sa Pilosopiya, your home organization. So, this will serve as an (unofficial) follow up to what our department chair said.

Doc Guss has pretty much said everything, reminding us who we ought to be and what we ought to do in this bleak world filled with problems and crises we have barely experienced or encountered in our four years of stay in the Ateneo. Indeed, now is the time to face and catch up with reality after being nursed and formed in this institution. It appears that the days of frequent partying and aimless gazing is over, and it is time to really work hard and be mature citizens of this country (okay, I admit that there is still area for party and drinks, but let's work on the necessary things first). It's time for us now to be real grown-ups, as men and women ready to devote our lives to love and service, to learn to see and act upon everything both with wonder and passion, as well as with the sense of urgency and responsibility that is demanded of us.

Fellows, it's time for us to become true beacons of hope, as Doc Guss said. It is time for us to show the world that we can do something, that we can change ourselves and then change this world by getting out of our comfort zones, re-thinking things, and changing our ways. It is time for us to show the world that our generation knows something more than lying on the couch and surfing the net. It is time for us to let everyone know that we can move. We are more than what they think us to be: either as social critics who are a threat to the order of institutions whilst name-dropping philosophers and quoting their books to show our expertise, or, for those who are in the Church, as people who pray without acting while going around condemning people because we don't share the same stands as we do (I know you get my drift here). I believe that after our four years of philosophy, we are people who can strive for reform, love the poor, engage institutions and groups in non-violent and mind-opening conversations, and, most important of all, be real human beings towards other human beings.

And I think that we could start with gratitude, to appreciate how these four years of study made us who we are. And this gratitude is the kind that is not done by merely saying "thank you" and then walking away. Rather, it is the kind that allows us to realize that each and every person, thing, or event which have become a part of our own selves have done so much for us, and we have to pay back, or to put it in a more proper way, pay everything forward.

To my fellow seniors, I ask you to do our simple acts of gratitude by starting to remember. I ask you, never forget. Let us never forget the times when we worked together to finish those which were asked of us. Let us never forget the responsibility and accountability that we have towards one another, that which we learned only in those times when we have been together. Let us never forget those times when we responded, as one and in our own unique ways, the call to reach out and be a person for others (as exemplified by our own experiences during Ondoy, Pepeng, and the Maguindanao massacres). Let us never forget our discussions which forced us to think and engage others in conversation. Let us never forget our philosophical adventure which I believe was quite worthwhile for all of us. And even though most of us have erased in our hard drives our reviewer for our comprehensive exam and, for some, notes for theses, let us never forget, most of all, the discipline we have acquired from years of studying philosophy, the values that we have learned along the way, and most of all, the sense of wonder which urges us to search for evidence (quoting Dr. Angeles here) which grants us access to truths which seem to be obliterated and covered up by the present conditions of our world. I believe that it is only in remembering these things that we learn to move forward and mature.

And to those who are still trudging the path to the end, we hope that you learn something from us and our adventures. Learn from our actions, from our successes and failures, from our achievements and mistakes, from our selflessness and selfishness, from each and every thing. But of course, always do the right thing, that which is asked of you.

Making The Most

Yeah... gotta start lookin at the hand of the time we've been given here this is all we got and we gotta start pickin it every second counts on a clock that's tickin' gotta live like we're dying We only got 86 400 seconds in a day to turn it all around or throw it all away we gotta tell 'em that we love 'em while we got the chance to say gotta live like we're dying

-Kris Allen, "Live Like We're Dying"

In these last moments that count where one could be able to look back and see not just the big picture and the long road where one walks, but the individual moments as well. It is in those single, particular memorable moments that most of the time, we are drawn to stop and think about our life. And from there, questions that we have been asking repeatedly emerge in a new light: Who Am I ? What Am I Doing In Here? Where Am I Headed To?

But sometimes, these moments slip as if they were not at all important for us. Living in a world where everything seems to suddenly come and go, with one thing proceeding after another in a short span of time, it really is hard to notice and gaze at the different events in our lives. Writer Ursula K. Le Guin spoke of the world as in heat, in a high state of entropy, that everything is unstable and could not be noticed. Alvin Toffler would say that we are always in a "future shock," and the present seems to be absent in every moment of life.

With these bleak pictures of the world, is there a possibility of slowing down and taking a look at things, gazing at them and dwelling on the meaning of these things? I believe there is, and what is needed for us is to only look.

I believe that the greatest skill in life that one has to have is the ability to look and listen, and it is when he feels becoming more human than he could ever think of. It is then that he is able to look at things and how they are related to his own search for meaning. It is only in the act of looking that he is able to come up with insights, with wonderful and meaningful thoughts about himself and the world he lives in.

But more than that, it is in gazing that one appreciates time, that it is not just made up of fragments or chunks of moments, but a continuous flow of things in their appearance and in their flourishing. It is in gazing and thinking about things that we appreciate the fact that despite the swiftness and brevity of moments, it is nothing but very rich with meaning and significance.

And with that, we hope that we live like we're dying, that we learn to treasure each and every moment in our lives, to see them as grace, as gifts that we continue to receive in every moment that we live, gifts that ask us to respond by seizing the moment, doing the best that we can. Each and every human act well thought of in various moments of one's life are acts of gratitude towards the Giver.

Thus, it is possible to stop for a while, take a break, and appreciate life as it unfolds before us. But one thing we must not forget is to seize the moment and make full use of it. Never take things for granted, and live life as if it is your last breath.

You live what anybody gets… You got a lifetime
-Death, "The Sandman" Series

When Rock Takes Its Revenge... and Forces Us To Wonder

One of the memorable days I had during college was one epistemology class when we discussed the difference between classical music and rock music. In class, it was mentioned that it is the former which allows us to dwell and linger on things, for it is that which hides emotions, meanings, and beauty waiting to be discovered. On the other hand, the latter is quite explicit, saying everything in the open, without any room for the listener to dwell on and find something still not seen. In short, rock music has exposed everything, and there is nothing more to do except to receive it without any effort at all.

Not quite, I think. I am a listener of rock music ever since I heard the radio playing Eraserheads and, later on, Nirvana, and I think that rock music has that same depth as that of classical music, a kind of depth which could only be perceived by those who truly listen to it.

It might seem a given that rock music already brought things out in the open, and that classical music, having no lyrics, gives room for dwelling and reflecting. Rock music might have brought out all the secrets of its music with its hard beats and guitar solos, while classical music delivers a kind of serenity that keeps a deep secret within itself. Rock music might have been made for partying and thrashing around, while classical music is for the quietness and serenity of the soul. But I cannot agree to the claim that rock music does not allow one to dwell and linger on things contrary to classical music. In this case, I think that I have to defend rock in these aspects.

Rock music might have the words which let the music speak for itself, but I believe that it does not deny the fact that the more it shows, the more it hides. I think that it is in lyrics where music reveals something, and at the same time, chooses to not reveal something and keep something hidden. Lyrics in fact give shape to music, inviting the listener to not just lend an ear but also lend one's mind and eventually one's being in the course of the music. More than that, the words not only point to the song, but also point back to the listener. I don't know if some of us experience this, but I believe that those who grew up in the nineties and are currently facing the issues of young adulthood would find it easy to listen to Kurt Cobain and the rest of Nirvana and, say, Get Up Kids or Angels & Airwaves. And I believe that it is such because these songs send a message which tells something about our own state of existence and how we deal with life situations. It is in the way that we interpret the lyrics that the song becomes more alive, where they will choose to reveal itself more fully to the listener, when "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "Hey Jealousy" become part of life as fragments of it, as stories within our own stories, poems within our own poems of life.

But despite the richness of rock music in lyrics, it still does not reveal everything. In fact, more is revealed when the lyrics fall silent and the instrumentals take over. Think of classical music after five or so centuries, and what you get are those drumbeats that send us partying (like how Travis Barker, the best drummer of our generation, keeps everything about pop-punk alive and kicking) and the best guitar riffs and solos in the world. One of the best interludes that I was able to listen to was that of Avenged Sevenfold's, in the song "The Beast and the Harlot," and once I heard it, the moment of wonder and amazement wells up within me. It brings my imagination to a concert scene, when one would imagine being on the drums or on the guitar and doing that riff, followed by jumping and moshing around. Indeed, in this moment, I believed that it is when we stand in awe and wonder, to stare into the wild and learn to think of it as something that reveals yet hides something. It invites us to explore as we let our passion for sound burn within us.

And does rock music not do this for you?

The Last-ditched Efforts

Perhaps, there was nothing exciting about it, but the waves of infatuation still ride over in the last few days. With that, I felt the need to do something with it, and that is to write a last letter for her (whether or not she was able to read this stuff, it doesn't matter), and since things were spilled over, there will be nothing gained, nothing lost with this.

And with this, here it goes:

Everything seemed to be awkward. From start to end, I believe it has always been.

But I count the moments as something worth remembering, for they are moments which seem to be something that is out of the ordinary. For they are moments which tell me that I am looking for people, for friends to be like you in one way or another, but not quite like you. These are moments which tell me that being friends wouldn't be that much bad. It even makes me feel happy.

And I am thankful for those moments, for which I see everything as a gift from you, from me, for you, for me.

Secrets have spilled, things have been revealed. I know that because there is nothing more to hide, liking you has not been that exciting as it was. But then, I'm glad we have become friends in some ways.

I may have not joined you in the ride. I might have stayed in the back and became contented with seeing you from afar. But it has been worthwhile.

And I did not write this just to end things. It may in fact be just starting.

It Is The Dance That Keeps The Belief Alive

It was in these rare moments that I really experience being silenced by art, not just because it was something that is marvelous in itself, outside myself, but also because it penetrates the self, bringing back many good thoughts and memories.

Last Friday, I was able to watch CREDO, the year ender of the Company of Ateneo Dancers (CADs), and I really admit that after all the performances, I was really left speechless, amazed by how the group was able to do all of this, both entertaining and dazzling everyone and leaving a message that is very timely and striking.

I admit that because of the numerous performances, I could not give a highlight of the whole presentation. Nevertheless, I have some which I could consider as the best performances of the night, and these include:

1.The "toy house / dream land" ballet number, accompanied by the String Quartet rendition of "Sugar We're Going Down."
2.Of course, I cannot remove from my list their creative repeat of their Skechers number (which I was not able to watch in exchange for pigging out at Shakey's two months ago).
3.The Gospel-themed dance number was a win for me. I never imagined that one could do a dance number on salvation with such life.
-But I could not also forget the various hyped up numbers earlier, most especially the "Glee" medley. Oh, and the moves. Yes, the moves which made my head and arms move, whilst trying to put each and every one of them in my head, with the hopes of being able to apply these in our further presentations.

And I think that everything I have witnessed during the night stirred up something within me. It's not just about being fascinated with the moves, but everything somehow reminded me of my personal Credo, a full belief and acceptance of what I am. The dance reminds me of my own personal dance, and I'm not talking about some kind of existential metaphor to describe my life. Yes, I did learn to dance when I was in 2nd year high school, and I admit that when I started to learn the art, I never stopped riding the beat.

I might have done the switch from dancing to playing the drums and becoming a part of a band, but I never totally said "no" to dancing. Here in the college seminary, where presentations are a must, I was still able to love the dance, to appreciate the music and swing to the beat, counting from one to eight (heck, I was member of the San Jose Mananayaw during my first two years, before it became exclusive to the theology community). I even had one P.E. class which I took under the Modern Jazz class (but is actually Intermediate Street/Hip-Hop), and it was there that I was able to confirm that I still have that spunk and energy to be able to dance, just when I thought that I have lost the appreciation for it. In fact, I still remember that the first music I danced to was the mash-up of "Girlfriend" (N'Sync ft. Nelly) and a few Missy Elliot songs. The last one, as I remember, was my own mix of a few famous R&B songs.

Until now, I never failed to appreciate dancing as part of myself. I might not have joined the most recent dance practice (since for this year, all program presentations were devoted to singing) or made moves for the community since the 11th Bukluran (where the community joined a Marian dance contest, and I was assigned to do the street part). I could say that only two or three percent of my skills were devoted to dance. But then, I could not deny the fact that when I play the music, I go with its flow: banging my head, bending my legs, swinging my arms, acting as if I was playing the drums or strumming the riffs in a major concert. That, my friends, is what I call the dance of life. It is what I cannot remove myself from. It was something that I started which never seemed to end.

And with dancing, I learned two important, inseparable lessons: bringing out everything and setting one's own spirit free, flowing with the music, swaying to the rhythm of life, eventually surrendering oneself with much gratitude. And this is where the existential part will kick in (of course).

Life is just one big dance. You learn the music, do the basic grooves, time your moves and create them, and for a moment or two, one does an incredible feat that would drive the audience wild in amazement and fascination. But in the end, it's not about the wild moves or the type of dance; instead, it is all about giving everything. Whether dancing comes in sets of eight-counts (what I can do as far), or a damn good headspin, what boils down in the end is the total giving of oneself to the music, of letting oneself be, being aware of the music and moving with it. It is giving one's whole mind, body, and heart in hitting the dance floor and executing the moves as good as you can. True living, I believe, doesn't really revolve around the methods of survival or the amounts of success and failures. Instead, its true measure is how much of the self has been given and delivered to the world, the ability to give the whole self in the process of living. In the end, it is the sacrifice of the self that counts, the courage to lose oneself in order to gain this world, to gracefully dance with the music.

Thus, life as a dance is always an endless giving, mustering all our efforts to devote ourselves to those who are other than us, to join them in swinging and stomping in the beat of life. It springs forth from our own determination to go with the flow of music and groove as it were. However, we realize that this effortful act of dancing becomes an act of renouncing oneself, presenting oneself to the music. As one continues to dance, one realizes that even the determination, the passion, and the ability to dance are gifts, something that has been given to us as those who are determined to renounce the self by dancing. In the end, dance shows us that our very own selves, together with our fellow dancers, are gifts to each other, hoping that we may receive each other by continuously moving as one and keeping up the energy as one dance troupe. In the end, the act of dancing becomes an act of gratitude to the music and to the other, a moment of receiving and becoming grateful of the grace that came in one's life as the music that pushes us to go on.

With this in mind, it is true, then, that in dance, our whole being is offered and delivered. We are now called to never stop dancing, to let ourselves respond to the beat of life and go with the flow of the music.

Let's Start With The Last Things

It always feels so good if you have good endings in your life. It's more like hitting the game-winning shot that brought the game to a close, and you just have to spread your hands in victory and embrace your teammates.

But it's not just that single shot. It’s not even about the question whether it came in or not. In fact, the whole game's worth it. (Besides, we haven't reached the ending yet, for we still have the denoument to deal with)

I started the semester with a lot of hope and determination to make these last moments count. Everyone's goal is to graduate, but my goal is to do my best and graduate with glory (yes, I admit that). However, this includes making the most out of my last days both here in the seminary and in the university. It involves being involved in whatever we do, making sure that what we bring with us are good memories which we could go back to.

And good they were, as I believe. I had one great academic rollercoaster ride, with all the subjects that I took for my last semester in college life. There was Epistemology with Dr. Tonette Angeles, Philosophy of Religion with Mr. Eddieboy Calasanz, and of course Contemporary Philosophy with the idol of the batch, Dr. Ramon Reyes, and add to that the Catholic Social Vision and, of course, the dreaded end of the journey in philosophy (at least for the Pre-Divinity majors): the synthesis paper and the 45-minute long oral comprehensive exams.

And I believe that after looking back at the last four significant months of my college life, I could say that I was able to go through the final hurdle and execute the last great play. I had to admit that this last four months has been a season of toil and hard work, a kind of striving that is not just for the self, but also for one's own vocation, one's own community, and one's own family. A few weeks ago I had a chat with one of my good college friends, and we had this discussion over making it in the Latin honor roll. With that, I was able to realize that when I first embarked on this journey, I though that everything was for my own self - the everyday school works, community roles, and building bonds with different people. I thought that these would just be one of the trophies that I could carry home and be proud of.

But as the years went by - seminary life became more about passion and commitment, studies and philosophy turned into an intellectual adventure, and friends became indispensible fragments of the self, I figured out that everything was not about just charging your ego with millions of credentials and a lot of titles. Rather, it is about building networks, finding the meaning of one's life as being in various communities where one belongs to. It is indeed true that the meaning of one's life is found only in relation to other people, of respecting them who we are and being with them as both of you grow in time.

And going back to that discussion, I think I had already found the reason for all striving. It's not just about myself. Rather, it is about the Church that I want to serve, the family that loved me for who I am, the community with whom I spent more than three-fourths of my weeks, months, and years, the friends and blockmates who shared not just stories, but more importantly memories with me. All of who I am, my eight years of seminary formation, my efforts to graduate cum laude, and my different leadership roles, are for them, to give back with gratitude what has been given to me.

And it is in this particular lens that I want to see these last four months as one of the most important and valuable moments of my life. It is not just about the various A's and B+'s which came with countless hours of trying to put my ass in place and study, the positions I took in San Jose Seminary and in the Ateneo which people recognized with much respect, or the random pursuits (including this blog) that I thought of trying. Rather, it's more about the sharing of what all of us have - the reviewers, stories, scores, experiences, basketball games, drinking sessions, tambay moments, recreations, prayers, chant classes and music practices, night outs, and everything else that involves strengthening bonds not just with the self but also with others, that made this last four months worthwhile. These were the very moments wherein I was reminded of the most important things in life as well as the way they point to my vocation, to what I should really be. These were the last four months where I was able to wake up to the truth of who I really am and to become thankful for it.

They say that things get mushy and worth remembering only in the last days. And I think that it is true, but more than that, I think that these last four months is just a way to remember that the whole four years was worth it. Yes, I might have done a lot of mistakes and blunders, and there were a lot of good things that I missed.

But then, with all that has transpired, I can say that my life as a college seminarian is a basketball game worth playing. Maybe I would come out a winner or a loser by the time March kicks in… but it was worth it, no regrets or anything.

And this is just the start of my many goodbyes.

Opening The Wounds

I'm a circle incomplete, I'm a heart that barely beats All the memories stay forever like tattoos I'm a star without a sky, I'm hello with no goodbye I'm the dreams we had that never will come true That's me with no you
-Bowling For Soup, "Me With No You"

A Spilled Notion

Of all the definitions of love that the pages of history and literature has to offer, it seems that we are faced with a multitude of names that do not remain on the nominal level, to mere words that point to one and the same something. It is not about just listing down "love is this" and "love is that" as if they do not really mean anything. With each signification of what love is, one is geared towards a kind of questioning, that which resounds from each and every one of these pieces. "How do I love?"

Eventually, the common denominator that seemed to, in a way, encapsulate the multitude of these significations is that love as "radical alterity." To see love as this is to not give love a definite, closed description, that which could immediately unite all experience one may call as a totalized experience of loving. Rather, it has to be seen as a breaking apart of love, of reminding us of its real meaning and significance. Indeed, what it means to love is something that is, in experience, ungraspable. It spills over, from one simple moment to a whole life, together with the world it brings, in general.

Though it may shed us some light about what love is, we can't still discard the question of the how. For in asking this, we can't seem to escape the issue of starting it and bringing it to fullness. As a person who loves, how do we look at love and loving? How do we open ourselves to love? More precisely, how do we live in love?

These questions throw us back to a perennial problem that has disturbed the history of thought, and life as well, for centuries, until those who gained the key insight was able to figure things out and, in some ways, tried to fix things. "How can the subject know the object?" This has been the problematic, the enigma of philosophers of decades past. It is nevertheless an epistemological problem, but then, since knowledge and understanding is part of our humanity, this question cannot but penetrate our selves and also become spilled over in our life. Now we ask, "how does the lover love the beloved?"

And we stumble upon the notion of the modern philosophy that was too much concerned with the "I."

I Love Because I Can

To cut a long (and perhaps tragic) story short, the Moderns placed the self, an individual thinking substance separate from the world, as the foundation of all knowing and experiencing. As a consequence, they pictured reality as the way man would like to construct it. Thus, all that is experienced is only possible as such if and only if man organized everything and made sense of it. The human mind should learn how to arrange the manifold of sensibilities before him, and therefore judges it as real or not, meaningful or not, depending on his own definitions of meaning and organization.

Perhaps being too much, but more or less, this is the image of how a separate thinking mind sees everything. Perhaps, we could say that in an extent, everything is as he pleases. Even science of this time would even go so far as to say that those that did not fit have to be discarded and regarded not as an important piece of information but just an anomaly that one has to ignore.

And it is never far from a heart that separates from itself, a kind of loving that is grounded on a false belief that one loves primarily because one is able to love in his own way. As a dire consequence, one would only love the beloved in such a way that it becomes favorable to the lover. There would be no such thing as a complete acceptance, for the lover would only accept certain images, aspects, or parts of the beloved. The rest of the beloved's being would be taken merely as accidental and need not be paid attention or accepted.

In this idolatrous form of loving, it seems that fragments of the beloved, and not the beloved herself, are accepted and loved. In the end, "loving" just becomes a matter of convenience and self-satisfaction. It is a selfish confinement of the other, boxing her according to my own categories and expectations, because it is only in this way that I experience her as someone I love. If times change and my beloved would change, then perhaps it would just be proper to cut our ties and call it quits. After all, these changes would surely lead to a change in our relationship, and thing would not be the way they were before. Thus, it would be the easier way out to escape future pain rather than endure it, since it guarantees the safety of the self.

But then, would that be loving? To do so would be to see love as an accessory in our life that we can live without, as an activity among others. It is first and foremost something that I starts from myself and ends with myself, and if I am not happy with it, I could just learn to get by without it. If the feelings and the sense of security and happiness is gone, then so is love.

Would we just be content with it being a mere creation of the self, an attempt to construct a bridge to the other, believing that man has reached his fellow, but what he only did was to draw a definite picture of the other side? Where is the beloved in this picture?

I Love From Being Loved

Love, then, does not start with "I love." It cannot be called genuine love if the whole experience of love is presumed to start with an individual self, an ego which has deceived itself of already reaching out to others through his conceptions of the other. To start with this is to also end up to where it started.

Where could it be found, then? The only option (and the necessary one at that) starts with a "we," expressing the fact that I am already connected to others beyond myself, and it is only through these connections that I learn to fully connect, to fully love the beloved as she is.

A very important thing that should not be missed is the fact that the truest form of "we" is in two parts: first, "I am loved," and the second, "I am towards love," and it is from this where we will start. In this understanding, to love then is to always give back, to reciprocate, for one started already as someone who has received love. Before one decides to love, he has first and foremost received love from another. In fact, the ability to love is something that the person receives as a loved individual. I learn how to give myself to another because I have already known and appreciated what it feels like to be given, to be cared of, and to be loved. It is from these experience of receiving that I learn and start to give myself to love, to surrender myself completely to the other.

So instead of a self that is separated from the world, love now starts as being fundamentally connected to the other, being loved already. We are already thrown into a world where we cannot get rid of those that are beyond ourselves. We might prefer ignoring them and continuing to exist as if there are people who are not with us, but we cannot deny their presence, their very being which continues to affect us and influence us as we continue to live in this earth. Most of those around you are the persons who form who you are, whether they know it or not, even coming up with things that are part of your very self. They are those who continue to affirm you that you are that kind of person, living in this kind of community, having these particular roots, principles, and goals. This means that who I am is made up my connections with the other, and I could not get rid of it, for to do such is to rid myself of who I am. Thus, we could say that my identity is made up of connections, and I believe that they are not just factual and influential connections. These are connections made by the various degrees of love, of belonging and being accepted in a certain community. The strength and influence of others in you determine the intensity and impact of the love of the other towards the self. We even have to take note that these influences are forged out of great love and appreciation for who we are and who we might be.

Thus, my very existence is a product of love, not just in a biological sense, but also in an existential one. I cannot be who I am without the "energy" of love surrounding me and shaping me each and every day of my life. And because love goes freely within me, it is my duty to let it flow as it is, to prevent it from freezing and going hard and instead learn to pass it on. Not only will it be a way of existing as to who I really am as a human being who is always towards outside himself, but in this very existence I learn how to give thanks: not just to those who loved you, but to whom the energy of love springs forth and returns, Love Himself.

And to exist as love is to accept one's connection with the other, to strengthen it by giving our whole selves to the other, to let the energy of love not only flow from one being to another but also let it totally bind the self to the other. This is where the second sense of "we" comes out: "I am towards love." My self is primarily open towards the other, towards my beloved, existing as an open human being, complete in itself, yet paradoxically lacking, needing the presence of someone genuinely other for my existence to be truly affirmed and taken care of. As I discover myself to be a complete human being, I find that I do need the other, for me to live as a true and complete human being.

And from this seemingly paradoxical experience, I come to understand, that I exist as a wounded person, always open towards giving and receiving from the other, always open to love, always in love.

Towards the Mystery of the Other

To say that man is fundamentally in love is to cease trudging the long road towards knowing how the lover loves the beloved. We stop asking this by accepting the fact that primarily, man is already connected to the other, towards the beloved, towards love itself. Primarily, his identity, his very being springs forth from love and its various degrees - from mere recognition to devotion and commitment made by the other. He then finds meaning and direction in his existence only in loving, in knowing and recognizing the presence of his beloved, by getting out of himself and offering his life, fully saying "Here I am for you" and accepting the responsibility of walking along with the beloved.

But this is rooted in a fundamental disposition towards the other - that of acceptance. To accept is to fully recognize the other as mysterious - as someone whose existence is so rich and complex that my images, my categories, of my beloved are still those that only point to that which I still do not know about her. It might be true that it is only through those impressions that I have that I first started to like and love her, but the real challenge here is to learn to accept and recognize the other as unfathomable, someone whom I cannot capture as a whole. O have to recognize that it is in commitment and in time that I would gradually know and see her for who she really is.

That is why accepting the beloved is not like watching her just like a scientific observation. To do so is to refuse to accept her communication of the self, to do away with her self-giving. Rather, to accept her entails going with her, walking with her, joining her in unfolding the mysteries of her very being, and at the same time opening yourself to her and asking her to join you in your own journey. To accept the beloved is to help her trudge the long walk of life, to be there when she needs someone, to be of help when she asks for one, to be PRESENT for her. That, I believe, is the only way to dive into her mystery and my own mystery, and it is only in this plunging that I learn to unearth who I am and who she is, both in relation to each other.

It is only in joining one another that one truly accepts, loves, and, most importantly, hopes for one another. I merely do not hope for the better, but I just hope. I choose to continue to give myself to her because I know that it is only in this way that I learn to accept her for what she is, for what I really am. It is only in this way that I open my wounds, that I learn to see myself as belonging to a bigger picture. It is only in walking with her that I learn that I really am a circle incomplete, a star that has to rise with the sky, an authentic whole me that is never complete without a you. In loving, I recognize the need to walk together as one, to go into paths we have not yet trudged, to walk with each other, letting each other grow in each other's embrace and let one blossom in time.

It is in love that we learn that our wounds could be healed only in our compassion, our suffering with, the other.