I can’t remember which Philosopher said it, that ideas are things actually “seen.” Things that can be made real.
Here in the hotel room, charging our body batteries, we’re still trying to digest the rocky road to peace. I’m physically exhausted and my brain has used up its reserves. All I’ll have are short naps in 30 long hours. The most I can give now is a weak, grateful smile (and a few words).
We’re leaving to Zamboanga Sibugay in a few minutes. This is by far the southernmost that I’m experiencing the Philippines. I am not on vacation. And for security reasons, we’re advised not to wander around, especially in Basilan.
Try Googling these places in Mindanao, if you want to know what I’m saying (unless, Google filters our search results differently). At least for metro-Filipinos and the international community who hears news, these places are quickly linked with terrorism, kidnapping, bombing, rebels, massacre, ambush, family feuds… Plus these are Muslim areas so I might/would have to strictly observe a different set of norms.
What am I trying to say?
At this point none, I know nothing about these places (news and travel advisories aside), more so the people and how they live. At some point, I’m thinking of getting a tattoo to the effect of As-Salāmu `Alaykum, dreaming that it would save me especially from naked hostility and forthcoming death. And how staring into the eyes, into the soul, of another would prove that humans are essentially good.
Wish me luck, as I unravel how to bring peace to the consciousness of my people. And how we could see “we-are-all-connected” in a brighter light.
I’m not trying to be a hero, I’m just one of the curious lot.
What is your art? It amuses me to hear people say they don’t have any talent or that they’re not good in anything.
“Care of the Soul requires craft.
To live with a high degree of artfulness
means to attend to the small things
that keep the soul engaged in whatever we are doing
And it is the very heart of soul-making.”
Art, as language of the soul, nurtures the soul.
Thus it should be in our every day.
“The fine arts are elevated and set apart from life,
becoming too precious and therefore irrelevant.
Having banished art to the museum,
we fail to give it a place in ordinary life.”
My art is in people. I like seeing them grow and I’m a believer of change and progress. Seeing through and being seen, that’s when I am most connected to the world, in my very sense of destiny. People when they bloom, for me is the most beautiful that art has ever known.
Art that is not contained in movement, in rhythm, in color, texture and shape, in emotions and still moments — what is your art?
This is what Hey Artist is all about. Focus on your craft, enrich your talent, nurture your soul, and work out your own salvation.
8 Fold Fats, that’s what I remember about Buddhism in high school. I just realized how we are never trained to regard other beliefs. Back then, it was but hilarious.
I am not really a Buddhist yet my being into this world-connection thing has lead me to people who are into the depths of religiosity. They tell me that I am such an old soul, seeking liberation at an early age. Something I love to believe.
Exuding wisdom (or appearing to be) boosts my ego – ironic! It’s like, “credit that to my great mind and observance, dude!” But this reincarnation idea, it generates humility and protects from vanity.
What if, the things I know and even the capacity to this knowing, is not merely a result of my reading? What if the good fortunes are a result of my previous self, whoever that “self” is? What if I just happened to be old, while others are young despite their number of years?
I have but none. I surrender to the laws of nature.
I just remembered why I put Seth Godin on the Inspirations page.
“To those who feel that they have no choice but to create, thank you.” | “Go make something happen.”
It has been a while since I wrote from the darkest corners of my life. The level of detachment I had in the beginning is weak at the moment, but no matter what, I’ll write them down.
There’s a story I want to tell, a purpose I want to live. I didn’t quite know how to best reach the majority of men — art, stories, infographics, photos, teachings made simple, deep analysis, cool projects, self-branding?
The only area at which I am the expert, authority.. is my Life, my Experience. It was a daunting realization, since I would have to lay bare in front of all, and bare all.
“Whatever it is, just explore to have your own set of opinions (values, beliefs). Because apparently, you don’t have one.”
Kash: “Ouch. But so true.”
The shadow is not so much our own. But of somebody else. I remember Hazel ask once, “What’s my template?” She was working on stepping out of it.
Who casts his/her shadow upon you? Please experiment.
I met my bestfriend from high school, Aby, when we were in elementary. But we didn’t become friends; she thought I was a bitch. Trech recounts that I first came up to her on the first day of college asking, “Is there someone you don’t like in the block?” I don’t know if that’s true or why I entrusted such spicy information to a stranger.
I’m talking about extreme impressions (that last until deliberately broken): bitch in elementary, mother Theresa in college, kim sam soon in high school, amazona (which means something like Xena) when I play basketball, Ms. social responsibility after college, shy and quiet (around people in general), wild party girl (in dark corners), the source of all green jokes (non-innocent from the beginning), unholy trash (just guessing my christian friends), obedient daughter, indifferent sister, typical nerd…
“I want to see you human, with emotions. Coz you’re always just ok.” The same thing that Trech calls unprocessed, raw, pure emotion. “I wish you’d find your match, someone to tell that you’re just this, you know, that you’re not higher than anyone.”
Aby doesn’t exactly believe that I’m suffering from some kind of superiority complex. I guess she was saying something deeply important.
We all have biases, prejudices and preconceptions. These are necessary for human survival (black man, jock, insurance agent, tattoos, salesmen, red high heels, dyed hair, thick glasses, cheerleader). This is my human templating. Profiling people and putting them in their rightful template. This reduces the element of surprise to the minimum and allows for smooth interaction (knowing what each wants to hear and how they react).
Not that I don’t believe in the good in every one. In fact, I do. I’m a believer of that precious moment when people step out of the template and become a true special person (read Jung: quick, complete). I love surprise.
I want unpredictable. Will is unpredictable. Consciousness is unpredictable. Truth is unpredictable. Soul is unpredictable.
I was surprised with Oppa Michael‘s message “bold Kara.” He said that I just look so free (referring to this picture). Though I am writing to share essentially how to be free through authenticity, I, myself am not completely there yet. I had been into some kind of mild depression. At first I realized that it was because of my sick body. When it passed, it was because of something else.
Finally I am interested in getting a job again. Upon looking at the qualifications, I wanted to puke. I felt incompetent, inadequate. Then my life seemed stuck.
The world seems to accept only the perfect — personable, confident, organized, enthusiastic… All the requirements make me wanna be somebody else and make up awesome titles and stories why my resume is such and such. It’s like I have to convince them that I’m the perfect person described in those qualifications.
But Ms. Awesome has nothing to do with me. In all that I’ve done, fear is always there, Unconfident Kara is always sitting beside me. I feel fake. I’m scared that at the end, someone would tell me, “but it has all failed anyway.”
What I have learned in chasing men, when we tailor-fit ourselves to the requirements of others, we will never know ourselves and those who love us for who we truly are.
When the world becomes confusing, I go back to the naked. Regardless of what the world is looking for, what does make me alive? I will do it. I might face rejections, but these will be the sweetest rejections if they lead me closer to knowing myself. I may not have a spot now, but one day I will find my destiny (destiny, which for Trech, is belongingness).
I remember a story from Andrea about her Japanese friend. In Japan, she was the odd one out, she was the weirdo, she was just too happy for the Japanese. When she came to the Philippines, she found her home. The same is true about artists who haven’t found their audience yet.
Once a young professor was making a sea voyage. He was a highly educated man with a long tail of letters after his name, but he had little experience of life. In the crew of the ship on which he was travelling was an illiterate old sailor. Every evening, the sailor would visit the cabin of the young professor to listen to him lecture on many different subjects. He was very impressed with the learning of the young man.
One evening as the sailor was about to leave the cabin after several hours of conversation, the professor asked, “Old man, have you studied geology?” | “What is that, sir?” | “The science of the earth.” | “No, sir, I have never been to any school or college. I have never studied anything.” | “Old man, you have wasted a quarter of your life.” With a long face the old sailor went away. “If such a learned person says so, certainly it must be true,” he thought. “I have wasted a quarter of my life!”
Next evening again as the sailor was about to leave the cabin, the professor asked him, “Old man, have you studied oceanography?” | “What is that, sir?” | “The science of the sea.” | “No, sir, I have never studied anything.” | “Old man, you have wasted half your life.” With a still longer face the sailor went away: “I have wasted half my life; this learned man says so.”
Next evening once again the young professor questioned the old sailor: “Old man, have you studied meteorology?’ | “What is that, sir? I have never even heard of it.” | “Why, the science of the wind, the rain, the weather.” | “No, sir. As I told you, I have never been to any school. I have never studied anything.” | “You have not studied the science of the oath on which you live; you have not studied the science of the sea on which you earn your livelihood; you have not studied the science of the weather which you encounter every day? Old man, you have wasted three quarters of your life.” The old sailor was very unhappy: “This learned man says that I have wasted three quarters of my life! Certainly I must have wasted three quarters of my life.”
The next day it was the turn of the old sailor. He came running to the cabin of the young man and cried, “Professor sir, have you studied swimology” | “Swimology? What do you mean?” | “Can you swim, sir?” | “No, I don’t know how to swim.”
“Professor sir, you have wasted all your life! The ship has struck a rock and is sinking. Those who can swim may reach the nearby shore, but those who cannot swim will drown. I am so sorry, professor sir, you have surely lost your life.”
Reading this blog for entertainment alone may not do you any good. Go swim, or prepare to cut yourself.