An iteration of what I am and what 'family' has come to mean in these times

In lieu of an e-card or a Christmas letter to friends and expanding family here and overseas, this year I sent the full essay of Clarissa Pinkola Estes entitled "We Were Made for These Times" that US-based Jorge Vargas Ledesma earlier shared with me. Known for her inspiring book, Women Who Run With the Wolves, Pinkola Estes is spot on in this millennium of the Divine Mother,

I love the whole piece, perfect in its build-up from start to end. If I were in middle school again in the convent school where I grew up, and if I even had the remotest chance of a choice for a declamation piece, the choice would be "We Were Made for These Times."

The author had written:

"One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these – to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity.

"Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

"There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate.

"The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours. They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for."

Ms. Pinkola Estes, you said it all for us who still struggle to find coherence in what has happened to our lives and our country in the last quarter of this year. Somehow the letter that I had emailed to this vast extended family struck a deep chord, and I am heartened to discover that I am not alone, that with me are fellow voyagers on an almost listing ship. The last thing we'll do is find safe harbor. Not yet.

Rolly with the new light in his life, our grandchild Kai. Her presence has enabled him to replay the role of father in a relaxed, unhurried way, something he missed out on as our own kids were growing up because of his passion for teaching and practicing journalism.

Mamay Kim and her Kai at the King Louis Flower Farm in Baguio

Teacher Ida sports a preppy look at an event in Singapore.

Kai admires the lights outside Tiffany's (no, not in the New York City Tiffany's immortalized in an Audrey Hepburn movie; it's the Mandaluyong City branch at Shangri-La Plaza Mall).


And let not this madwoman's declarations blind us to what the spirit of Christmas has truly meant throughout the ages. The lines are further underscored and sung in the mighty chorus of Handel's Messiah.

"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace".--Isaiah 9:6

Timeless Reminder for Tatay

It is 5:40 a.m. on a quiet Sunday in Baguio. Strangely, there is no rain but a faint buzz in the air. All I can hear in our room is the turning of the pages of a book and a gentle tapping on the keyboard. Another Sunday in the lives of Rolly and Babeth. He gets up to check the Major League Baseball schedule and on learning the next game isn't until 7 a.m., resumes reading Asuncion David Maramba's Beyond the Classroom: Essays on Living.

Journalist Yvonne Chua, whom Rolly supervised when she was a young reporter at the now defunct Philippines Daily Express, once asked me, "Does your husband have a life already?" Her question is quite revealing. She took the words right out of my mouth.

But our children Kimi and Ida do appreciate Rolly for his steadfast devotion to his editing and mentoring duties. So much so that when Kimi was about to turn 24 on June 10, I texted their Tatay to please find it in his heart to surprise his eldest daughter by turning up in Pasig on her birthday. And he did, bright and early on that day. Kimi was so thrilled and happy she declared that she would treat the four of us (Tatay, Nanay and baby Ida) to a fab lunch at Claw Daddy at the Shangri-la Plaza Mall and dessert afterwards at her and her sister's fave froyo (that's frozen yogurt, Tatay) place.

So here's another one of my reminders (bordering on nagging) to the man my children declared many years ago "The Best Tatay in the World." Go get a life, Rolly. On the other hand, we like and accept you the way you are.

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant- they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are a vexation to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is: many persons strive for high ideals and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself, especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love for in the face of all adversity and disenchantment, it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.

YOU ARE A CHILD OF THE UNIVERSE. No less than the trees and stars, you have a right to be here and whether or not it is dear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be and whatever your labors and aspirations.

In the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham and drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful, strive to be happy.


And with the permission of poet Jose L. Lacaba, another hard-working tatay, I am reposting his translation of the poem above to Filipino. This version can be found in his book Sa Daigdig ng Kontradiksyon. He also did a salinawit of this poem, but he feels that the version below remains truer in spirit to the original poem in English.

Minimithi
Salin ng tulang "Desiderata"
Ni Max Ehrmann


LUMAKAD NANG MAHINAHON

sa gitna ng ingay at pagkukumahog, at alalahanin
ang kapayapaang maaaring makuha sa katahimikan.

Walang isinusuko hanggat maaari, pakitunguhan
nang mabuti ang lahat ng tao.

Sabihin ang iyong katotohanan nang tahimik at malinaw;
at makinig sa iba, kahit sa nakayayamot at mangmang;
sila man ay may kasaysayan.

Iwasan ang mga taong mabunganga at palaaway,
sila'y ikinaiinis ng kalooban.

Kung ihahambing mo ang sarili sa iba, baka
yumabang ka o maghinanakit; sapagkat laging
may lilitaw na mas mahusay o mas mahina sa iyo.

Ikalugod ang iyong mga tagumpay at saka mga balak.

Manatiling interesado sa iyong hanapbuhay,
gaano man kaaba; ito'y tunay na ari-arian
sa pabago-bagong kapalaran ng panahon.

Maging maingat sa iyong negosyo; sapagkat ang daigdig
ay puno ng panlilinlang. Subalit huwag maging bulag
sa kabutihang makikita; maraming nagsisikap
na makamit ang mga adhikain; at sa lahat ng dako,
ang buhay ay puno ng kabayanihan.

Maging tapat sa sarili. Higit sa lahat, huwag magkunwari.
Huwag ding libakin ang pag-ibig: sapagkat sa harap
ng lahat ng kahungkagan at kawalang-pag-asa, ito'y
lagi't laging sumisibol, tulad ng damo.

Tanggapin nang mabuti ang mga payo ng katandaan,
buong-giliw na isuko ang mga bagay-bagay ng kabataan.

Pag-ibayuhin ang lakas ng loob at nang mayroon kang
pananggalang laban sa biglaang kasawian. Subalit
huwag ikaligalig ang mga haka-haka.

Maraming pangamba ang likha ng pagod at pangungulila.

Bagamat kailangan ang sapat na disiplina, maging magiliw
sa sarili. Supling ka ng sandaigdigan, tulad din naman
ng punongkahoy at bituin; may karapatan kang manatili rito.
At malinaw man sa iyo o hindi, walang dudang
ang sandaigdigan ay bumubukadkad na tulad ng nararapat.

Kung gayon, pakisamahan ang Panginoon, anuman
ang pananaw mo sa kanya, at anuman ang iyong
pinagkakaabalahan at minimithi,
sa maingay na kalituhan ng buhay,
pakisamahan ang iyong kaluluwa.

Sa kabila ng lahat ng pagkukunwari, kabagutan
at gumuhong pangarap, maganda pa rin ang daigdig.

Mag-ingat. Sikaping lumigaya.

Jose F. Lacaba

Photo by BABETH LOLARGA

Open Letter to a Young Director

Dear Raya,

Your tita has to get these things off her chest before she risks those unhealthy things that happen when one “holds a fart in,” as the expression goes.

Yesterday morning , maybe at the hour you just arrived from Europe, I left Pasig City for Bataan on a community outreach project and made sure I could hitch a ride back to Mandaluyong City so I had enough lead time to line up for the 8 p.m. screening of your much-lauded Independencia.

I arrived at the Shangri-La Plaza Mall at a little after 4 p.m. There was a reasonably long queue already for your film. I felt immediately happy for you. I asked a fellow to save my space while I ordered something to eat at a snack bar.

The long and short of it is I totally lost it at some point during those four hours that I and a couple of hundreds of others did who patiently expected we could get in because we were there bright and early.

My understanding of independent cinema—forgive me if the definitions have changed during the past months, I’ve not managed to keep up, being situated most of the time in Baguio where we are not as privileged as Metro Manilans and, yeah, Europeans to catch indie films—is that it is an alternative to the kababuyan and superficiality of flicks churned out by the mainstream. What is more, indie filmmakers are supposedly respectful of their audience. And to produce and direct one, you just need a handful of committed staff and crew members, say 20 or 50 max (?), who share your vision.

Imagine my surprise when Martin Macalintal, who helped organize the French film festival still ongoing at the Shang, told us les girls seated by a coffee bar that 200 of the 290-something seats in the theater where Independencia was going to be shown were already reserved by the producer, Arleen Cuevas. And that these reservations were all confirmed. He had hoped that your producer would at least give due notice if even half of those seats would not be used so these could be freed and more people could be let in. I couldn’t help muttering aloud, “Is that producer Chinese?” No racial slur intended, but those were the first words that came out of my mouth.

Two hundred seats, Raya? She might as well have rented the entire cinema and called for a private screening. Why announce in the papers that there would be this screening of Independencia open to the public at that hour?

When finally the ticket booth opened at 6 p.m., only 20 people were allowed in. There was audible booing. Others just shrugged and called it a day. But there were still a sizable number of people who complained. The more enterprising others decided to contact whoever they felt malakas to in order to get in.

Soon there was this woman in black with shoulder-length hair accompanied by a man with a bullhorn who introduced her as “the producer.” As I quietly fumed on my seat—couldn’t get up because of tender left ankle from a slowly healing sprain and an arthritic right knee—my friends overhead her or her male companion say that sorry lang ang masasabi nila.

An angry mob was forming. Some threatened to blockade the entrance to Cinema 3. Before long, the lady in black announced that she had decided to free, perhaps from the goodness of her heart, those 200 tickets. People, who earlier dispersed, formed another queue which moved rapidly enough towards the girl at the ticket booth until again the tickets available ran out.

The lady in black, who was getting all the flack from outraged people like myself, should have seen that there was a huge hopeful crowd wanting to see a fulsomely praised film by the Philippines’ latest wunderkind. And since money at the box office is not an issue here, she should have quickly made an executive decision with approval from the Shang’s management that an extra screening be allowed.

Which apparently was what happened—another show time that same night was announced through SMS messaging with the tentative words “baka magka 2nd screening arnd 930. 1 hr 20 min lang ang film.”

I didn’t stick around anymore. That afternoon, a dear friend had just gifted me with CDs of Art Garfunkel, Julie Andrews and Carly Simon singing standards, and the rest of what looked like a wasted evening at the mall could still be redeemed. I went home and plugged in a pair of earphones.

Later, friends called up to report that there were three lines that formed outside Cinema 3 for your 8 p.m. screening: one line for those with reserved seats like family members, family friends, including a National Artist, actors like Alessandra de Rossi, etc. The second line was for those lucky to get the tickets let go by the lady in black. The third was for the waitlisted—if there were still vacant seats after the people in the first two lines were accommodated, the rest of those not privileged to be anak ng Diyos would be let in.

Again I point out a vital issue here, Raya. Are we living in a democracy, or are you
or your producer condoning another permutation of elitism? This had to happen on the country's 111th Independence Day, an independence gained after the waging of a revolution whose ideals were guided by the French Revolution. But let us not even get into that.

I’m still hoping to catch Independencia at some other venue, and since I have only reviews from foreigners to guide me, I’m also hoping that it is as good as they say it is. As a friend, who’s a master of irony and sarcasm combined, said, “The film can’t be as great as a Mayakovsky poem, can it? Or even an Ishmael Bernal ouevre?”

Yon lang naman.

From your concerned tita