Jim Paredes's Blog, page 24

I Dobidoobidoo love this movie

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated September 02, 2012

I will not be coy, or shy about this, and I am not holding back. I am absolutely thrilled that the movie I Dobidoobidoo, produced by Unitel, is currently showing and making quite a stir among those who have seen it. It is not your usual Filipino film. It is a musical written and directed by the young award-winning Chris Martinez who has given the movie-going public such great movies like Ang Babae sa Septic Tank, Kimi Dora, and Here Comes the Bride. And Danny, Boboy and I are a big part of this effort.

Tony Gloria of Unitel, a long-time friend, thought of this project after watching Mamma Mia! on Broadway some 10 years ago. He was inspired to do something like it using OPM and thought of the APO repertoire as the vehicle. More than five years later, he called and asked if we could meet for lunch. He broached the idea to me, but instead of a stage musical, he wanted to do a movie.

Prior to that, there were other interested parties who had approached the APO suggesting an original stage musical using our repertoire of hits. Back then, I was lukewarm to the idea. Maybe I was too protective of the APO songs which were already considered as having attained a kind of “legacy” status. It also did not give me confidence that not a single person or group who had expressed interest actually submitted a script, not even a synopsis of the play.

I felt more open to Tony Gloria who had produced the movie The Crying Ladies which generated critical reviews. But I needed more convincing. At our meeting, Tony shared his idea of how he wanted one of the songs to be interpreted, which I found rather amusing. I began to lighten up. He also said that he would be commissioning someone to make the script soon.

“Soon” actually took almost a year. When I finally got the script for review, I began reading it at around 11 p.m. Close to 3 a.m., I was still wide awake and riveted. I was so convinced it was a winning movie script deserving of APO’s material. I knew because I found myself laughing experiencing that warm glow of “truth recognition.” It felt real, not contrived, even if the whole effort of trying to make sense of varied hit songs and weaving them into a musical story is a contrivance in itself. The story flowed and had that charm that goes with good creative work.

The script by Chris Martinez captured the feel- good appeal of APO’s songs. Our best songs have, after all, been simple musical statements that try to capture the Filipino experience of love, friendship, heartbreak, and humor expressed in colloquial language that the public finds easy to identify with. When we wrote our songs, we made sure they were not only easy to like but also had elements of surprise and delight.

The next day, I met Chris Martinez for lunch. After talking to him, I was sure that the project was in the best hands possible. He was also going to direct it. I liked it that Unitel, was behind the project and not the usual big producers or production companies who had stables of stars, directors, and writers who had to be kept employed. I remember Tony telling me when we first met about the movie that he wanted to make films he could believe in and personally enjoy. I was therefore confident that the slimy hands of artistic compromise would be tied and prevented from mangling the story, or treating the songs in ways that would demean them or make them dull and predictable.

I now felt that the project had moved significantly forward. I was under the impression that the movie would be ready in a few months for people to watch in theaters. But there were more delays. There were a few important details in making a movie that Tony Gloria had to settle, such as funding, casting, auditions, getting contracts signed, making down payments, getting a production team, and scheduling, etc.

The imposed deadlines were not met. I was getting frustrated, but I could understand that productions can and do suffer a few snags. Finally, more than a year after I read the script, Tony called to inform me that the cast was complete. When I heard that Gary V, Zsa Zsa Padilla, Ogie Alcasid, and Eugene Domingo would play the main characters, I was absolutely delighted. He informed me that the other members of the cast, most of them admittedly new names to me, all had to audition.

When the big production meeting came, I finally met Vincent de Jesus, the musical director of the entire effort. We were going to hear the music, more or less already arranged and close to final form, for the first time. Chris and Vincent had been in constant consultation about the treatment and Vincent had put in a lot of effort into the arrangement and recording of the minus ones. He was clearly nervous as he fumbled to get his iPod connected to the speakers. I was nervous too, and told myself to calm down and make sure I was totally expressionless in case I did not like what I was going to hear. I told myself there was still time to make adjustments if I did not like the music.

When the songs were finally played, I was speechless. They were recreations that sounded new, fresh, with different beats, orchestrations and treatments. I was amazed at how Vincent brought the songs to new interpretations I had not heard or foreseen. Best of all, they were playful, daring, and had that quality I associate with good musicals. They were animated, exciting, and had flair. I absolutely loved what I was hearing. When it got to Panalangin and everyone in the room spontaneously sang with the music, my eyes swelled with tears of appreciation.

During the actual shooting of the movie, which took six months, I hardly visited the set. I wanted to see the project only in its final form.

I watched the completed project for the first time last Aug. 24 at the Resorts World viewing room with Manny Pangilinan, Channel 5 executives, and some of the performers in the movie. I sat beside Chris Martinez who promised not to preempt the scenes and spoil my enjoyment. A few days earlier, there was a screening for the press and I heard how enthusiastically supportive and appreciative they were. They gushed about the movie in their columns and reviews. During interviews, they made it known to us that they really enjoyed the film. One of them called it “a breakthrough” in Philippine cinema. While I was pleased to hear all of it, the cynic in me took in everything with a grain of salt.

But I was floored upon viewing the film. Not even the positive reviews were adequate preparation for what I was to see. I was totally captivated from beginning to end. I was one with the audience as we sang, clapped, laughed, cried, cheered, sighed all throughout the movie. The story, music, directing, acting, singing all came together into a wonderful, funny, touching, moving musical movie experience. Everyone was ecstatic with praise after the viewing. MVP, in an after-show interview, said he thought it was better than Mamma Mia!

What Tony and Chris have come up with is a unique Filipino experience, a movie that is not only excellently and adroitly executed but is 100 percent ours to enjoy as Filipinos. It was made by us, for us, and it is something we can really be proud of. But beyond the nationalistic aspect, it is great entertainment that is so easy to appreciate and enjoy.

On the way home that evening, my thoughts went back to some four decades ago when Danny, Boboy, myself, and a few other friends got together to sing for the sole reason of meeting girls. At that time, we had no idea nor did we speculate about where it would all lead to. We just wanted to sing, write and use our music as “chick magnets.” Simple dreams they were that led to bigger ambitions and great fulfillment.

I feel so blest that our music has been given a new venue to be played and appreciated, this time in the form of a very well-made musical for whole families, from both the old and new generations, to enjoy. I have seen the movie twice and I will watch it three or more times just to enjoy the audience.

Everyone who was part of this effort clearly loved it. I am convinced more than ever that things we do for love are imbued with creativity and positivity. The love we put into what we do generates love or attracts love in its direction. We created and performed our music for 43 years and ended our performance as a group two years ago. We had a great run which we did with love, passion, and a lot of fun. I am overjoyed and grateful that the love and the music are still playing.

On losing a father

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated August 26, 2012 12:00 AM

In the early evening of Saturday, Aug. 19 , my wife texted me that Jesse Robredo’s plane had crashed in Masbate. I immediately called friends who might know more information. Even if it seemed like I was in hyper mode, I was also in a state of shock.

The name of Jesse Robredo has always come up in the NGO and government circles associated with honesty, dedication, service and good governance. Everyone liked and admired him. If Jesse Robredo supported any cause, we knew that it was a right one, a worthy endeavor. He was one of the silent, good guys who delivered without fanfare but with great tangible results and with far-reaching positive consequences.

He was an easy guy to like. In person, he was always smiling, easy to talk to and really listened to anyone who had something to say. He was never dismissive. One got the feeling that he was a mature person with great compassion who was always helpful. He could act quickly but he could also pace himself if he had to take the long road and the long view to make sense of things and make things happen. He never gave up.

The pain of losing him hit me in two ways. As a Filipino, I feel that we have lost a good public servant. He was one of PNoy’s cabinet secretaries who got the job done and never called attention to himself. I always felt bad every time some two-bit politico would question his credentials in the Commission on Appointments or some know-it-all AM radio commentator would belittle government efforts where Jesse was involved. He was a man who gave his heart and soul to anything he did and I felt that he was underappreciated.

During the last elections, his name was floated for a while among the NGO community as a possible candidate for President or VP. He had the qualifications, surely. Many of us were very excited at the idea but fate had other plans.

On another level, a personal one, Jesse’s sudden demise was even harder for me to take. Every time I hear of a plane crash, I feel it on the gut level. My father died in a plane crash with the late President Ramon Magsaysay in 1957 when I was five years old. That crash was the start of an unexpected journey that my family and I were forced to take. March 17, 1957 was the day that altered our lives forever as a family and as individuals. To borrow writer Joseph Campbell’s metaphor, that day, we were all kicked out of Eden.

There are other similarities. Jesse Robredo, his assistant and the two pilots flew out of Cebu. So did the Magsaysay entourage. Like in the 1957 crash, there was one survivor in this recent one. Both Magsaysay and Robredo were loved and admired by many and were taken early in their lives. And to make the connection more personal, my father, who was a servant leader like Robredo, was so named “Jess.” Both were also considered by their alma mater as exemplary Ateneans.

I was trying to imagine what it was like for Jesse’s wife and children in Naga waiting, hoping for the best that their loved one was alive as the hours and days wore on. I thought of our own family’s experience. That March 17, we first heard the news that the plane was missing in the morning. It was in the late afternoon that we received confirmation that the plane had crashed. Initially, they could not find my father. My mom and siblings must have hoped that perhaps he had survived and walked away from the site to get help somewhere. When his charred body was found, one of my brothers speculated that perhaps it was not really him even if his perfect set of teeth gave him away. The death of a loved one, especially when it happens so suddenly, is too hard to comprehend, much less to accept easily.

I read a tweet from Ces Drilon last Monday where she shared that her own father had died in a helicopter crash and his body was never found. That is even harder to take. How can anyone fully accept a life-changing event like this without the evidence of seeing the loved one’s lifeless body? How does one deal with a “missing” status emotionally? Does one just accept that he is dead without incontrovertible proof? How long does one wait before giving up? Will one ever know for sure?

When you lose a father at a young age, it leaves a gaping hole in your being. My friend Harriet Hermosillas calls it “father hunger.” That’s what it felt like to me. I was lucky I had father substitutes to fill up part of the void left by my dad’s passing. But to a great extent, I dealt with it by having what one might describe as “an imaginary continuous dialogue” with my dad especially when I needed his guidance. His sterling reputation and the values he stood for were quite clear to me, making it quite easy for me to deal with moral questions. Even if I had spent very little time with him, I just knew how Dad would have handled certain situations. The stories I had heard about him made that possible.

Often, he would appear quite suddenly in my dreams. I would be somewhere and see smoke billowing not far from where I stood. It was the crash scene, but instead of the mountain where it actually happened, it would be on flat land. I would see him coming out of it wearing his white sharkskin suit, the one he had on when he was last photographed before leaving Manila the day before the crash. He was fit, handsome, smiling and exuded a reassuring fatherly warmth. We would not talk. I was a little boy and I would simply walk with him. The dream would almost always be in black and white. When I woke up, I just felt good and assured that I was OK.

To the Robredos and the families of the two pilots, I cannot possibly fathom how hard it is to deal with what you are going through. All circumstances are different. But I hope that knowing other people have gone through something similar helps somehow. I wish you healing and love. I hope this outpouring of sympathy coming from an entire grateful nation gives you comfort and help ease the pain of loss. It will take time but with God’s help, it will happen. Slowly but surely, even as the pain of loss will not go away completely, it will become more bearable.

The road is long and arduous. The doors of Eden have been shut. You are now forced by destiny to take a different, unplanned and unexpected journey.

And just as my father’s short but meaningful life played a big role in shaping me, do take comfort that your dad’s legacy of goodness, love for country and his decency as a human being will guide you as if he were present with you. You can be sure of it.Acts of love are seeds planted and they always bear fruit.

Faith, science and the RH debate

Faith, science and the RH debate

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated August 19, 2012

The reaction was visceral on both sides of the RH fence when a wannabe senator, a sprinkling of congressmen and a writer declared that the flooding we experienced the other week was caused by the vote in Congress to end the discussion on the Reproductive Health bill. God was punishing us, they intoned ominously.

While the rain poured down relentlessly, on the net, the Pro-RH camp reacted with disbelief, anger and total disdain plus a dollop of ridicule. The “Anti” side waxed apocalyptic with Old Testament-style doomsday warnings of floods, floods and more floods damning the Filipino nation for having turned away from godliness by inching toward the possible passing of the RH bill into law.

It was really quite bizarre in its childishness and stupidity.

While on the surface, it would seem that the great divide in this issue is purely religious, I sense other levels of conflict at play. There is modernity versus ultra-conservatism, change versus inertia, logic and rationality versus fear and hysteria. There are egalitarianism and democratic ideals of individual freedom and fairness versus an authoritarianism that seeks to be in control and demands blind obedience. There is church dictation versus secularism. And there is also openness versus dogmatism. But most importantly, I sense the clash between faith and science that looks like it’s leading to a showdown in this country.

I could not believe my ears when I heard Congressman Bagatsing suggest the postponement of the vote to end the RH debates last Aug. 6 to the next day because 6 is the “number of the devil.” How could a fully-grown, presumably educated man, an elected lawmaker in the 21st century, possess such a medieval, superstitious and irrational mind?

But there it was, in its full, radiant idiocy parading before us. In the world of Bagatsing, Mitos Magsaysay, et al, the ending of further discussion on the RH bill had angered God who then unleashed His wrath on us sinful Christian Filipinos who have chosen to behave like heathens by not following His wishes.

I could not identify with the God they know who behaved more like an Ampatuan than the God of Compassion and love Jesus introduced to the world.

Did it not occur to them that it is the rainy season, and with global climate change, this kind of weather is scientifically explainable? Do they truly believe that God punishes people by sending them days of destructive rain? If so, isn’t it rather insensitive and stupid for God to be sending rain of this magnitude that punished those who do not practice birth control more than those who do? Look at who suffered the most. Wasn’t it the poor with the most children and the barest of resources to rely on when disaster strikes who were most adversely affected by the floods?

The superstitious, irrational mind will always look for an explanation to phenomena that often can neither be proven nor disproved but has a ring of authority to it because God is invoked. “God is angry and is punishing us.” “God has appeared as the dancing sun,” etc. How many times have we heard of so-called visionaries who have claimed that Jesus, Mary or some saint supposedly appeared to them warning of disaster? Or saying that we are the Chosen People? And always after the fact. It is amazing how many people actually fall for it, quite often with hardly any question.

There are those who will say that I talk like this because I have no faith. That would be their judgment. But I do not dismiss the argument that one must have faith to see God, or God’s hand. And this leads me to ask the following questions: Is faith necessarily irrational? Is it always dogmatic? Is faith the same as religion? Can it co-exist with reason and scientific facts? These are questions that the greatest of minds have tried to answer through the centuries and my attempt to do so is not anywhere close to the brilliant answers of learned men, but hopefully, it will provoke the reader to think on this Sunday morning.

Faith can be irrational, mythical and even magical, which can make one believe in divine intervention no different from the Santa Claus or Tooth Fairy experience. I am not saying there are no real cases of divine intervention. There were times in my life when I felt that divine intervention saved me from myself. Am I being irrational? What proof do I have that these were divine interventions? I do not have empirical proof but I have experience of its trueness. I have faith.

I believe that faith is not necessarily irrational when it is anchored not on immutable dogma but on an openness to everything. It can even be trans-rational, or transcending reason going into the mystical realm. Who was it who said that belief is not the start of knowledge but the end of it? Faith in the modern world need not start with a definition of who or what God is, but an openness to the God experience as it reveals itself. God is not static. No one, no religion, can have a full grasp of God. The Deity manifests to each person uniquely, individually.

Are faith and science compatible? God need not fear science, since God made science. In fact, a mystic can see the hand of God in mathematics, logic and all other sciences. The idea is not to fit everything into one’s fixed concept of God but to be open to experiencing God in all things and in all ways. Otherwise, one gets trapped trying to “defend” God who does not need defending.

Science and faith need not be adversaries; they can remain compatible although they have their own domains with parts that may never intersect. A scientist may explain how the brain as a thinking apparatus works but will be hard put to measure or fully explain consciousness. As the physicist Freeman Dyson put it, “Science and religion are two windows that people look through, trying to understand the big universe outside, trying to understand why we are here. The two windows give different views, but both look out at the same universe. Both views are one-sided, neither is complete. Both leave out essential features of the real world. And both are worthy of respect.”

What is lacking on the Anti side of the RH debate is an appreciation of scientific facts. In its effort to protect the faith, it denies science. Even the Pope who has said many times that condoms do not prevent HIV, has partly conceded his position after seeing how AIDS is decimating hundreds of thousands in Africa.

I am not surprised to know that many on the Anti side have relied mainly on the opinions of the CBCP in their defense of this bill. After all, how many really want to read through the entire bill when it is already “understood” and decided upon for them by the Bishops? Also, a lot of people would rather follow “authority” rather than think for themselves on such an important issue. And they reason that it is faith that makes them do that.

While I respect their faith, I find it difficult to accept their denial of facts and their invention of new ones to justify their ideological stand. They continue to insist that the bill promotes abortion but they cannot cite any part of the bill to prove it. In fact, the bill condemns abortion.

If the God whom they invoke in this discussion cannot embrace or accept scientific facts, then that, to me, is a small God. Throughout my life, every time I have encountered a complex situation, my understanding and appreciation of both the situation and of God has grown in complexity. I often feel the presence of a Divine Force who is not constricted by dogma nor pre-judgment of what is good or evil but driven more by compassion to understand and help me find oneness with what is going on.

Lastly, there is the argument on the Anti-RH side that knowledge about reproductive health — which is what the bill calls for — will lead to promiscuity, abortion and a decaying of morals. I find this argument to be quite hysterical, and not well reasoned out. There are many countries where RH services have been available for years and experts do not see runaway statistics on rampaging rapists, violent sex crimes or prostitution because of it. If at all, the availability of knowledge has lowered the abortion rate and maternal deaths.

We must avoid thinking so lowly of humanity. It might help if, instead of focusing on man and Original Sin, we focus more on the Original Blessing (as Reverend Mathew Fox calls it) that God has given to us simply because we were born into the world.

Religious generation gap

Humming in my Universe– Philstar

By Jim Paredes

Last week, the Pro-RH forces in the Lower House put their foot down and stopped the endless, fruitless decades-long debate on the Reproductive Health bill. Under pressure from the Catholic Church, the Anti-RH congressmen have used all sorts of tactics to delay any action on the bill, by citing the absence of a quorum or making endless speeches, hoping that Congress would go on recess before a decision can be made.

While passing the RH bill is a political exercise, it is clear that the on-going debate is not only about Reproductive Health. It has religious significance and repercussions in a country where the Catholic Church holds sway in many important societal and political decisions.

These events got me to thinking about religion and how one gets to embrace one. I remember something I read by M. Scott Peck where he posited that the first qualification for being a Christian is to be sinful. A person without sin is in no need of salvation, and so sin itself must be committed because it will lead one to seek salvation through Jesus Christ.

Thinking along those lines, I thought to myself that perhaps the first consideration in recommitting to or embracing any religion as an adult is that one has to be in crisis. It can be any crisis—financial, physical, emotional, religious, etc. After all, who would be in need of a God, much less think of a God, if one’s life is going great. But when things begin to fall apart and one starts clutching at straws, there is a tendency to look for a power outside the usual places where one normally runs. And there is nothing like being powerless to get a person thinking about God or revisiting religion.

Religion is like one’s parents. You learn your values and attitudes through religion, and it can give great comfort. The guarantee of wisdom and the trusted guidance of one’s parents are a big help to a person in crisis. That is why the cultivated imagery in Christianity is a Father God, a Savior God-Son and an Omnipotent Holy Spirit. And there is Mary, our mother, who protects us, and intercedes for us so that God will grant our prayers. Among the four of them, they have all our basic relationships covered.

And Mother Church, as the keeper of the faith, has assumed the role of a religious parent to the faithful. Which is all well and good, at least in theory.

The trouble is, modern life has become complex and multi-dimensional. People are in need of answers to questions and predicaments no other generation has faced before. And the traditional parent-child relationship that served Catholic generations has become less and less relevant.

The child has grown up in a future-looking, secular modern world while the parent has remained mired in the past, unable to grasp the configuration of modern life, much less its future. In an age of greater freedoms and easy access to social media where everyone is inter-connected, the Church has remained an island, insulated and alienated from a large number of its children.

There is, unfortunately, a major generation gap there. Its children are unwilling to be simply dictated upon and follow blindly. They have become more discerning, critical and questioning of an authority that wishes to rule over everything, including the conduct of their sex lives.

Moreover, in the midst of the scandals it has been embroiled in, including questionable financial transactions and charges of pedophilia and sexual abuse by clerics, the Church is finding it harder and harder to persuade its flock to obey by simply delivering homilies. Like an out-of-touch parent, it has resorted to scare tactics, bullying, and even outright disinformation. That is what we have seen in its behavior with regard to the RH debate.

In social media, where a very lively discussion on the RH bill has been going on for months, it is very clear that people on both sides of the debate are passionate about their positions. There are those who side with the position of the Church, but there are so many more who support the passage of the RH bill. The lines are drawn and the positions have hardened.

A great number of people are quite perplexed and have turned away from the position of the Church which they see as out-of-step with the times, authoritative, dictatorial and outright medieval. They feel let down by the virulent language and the disinformation, finding the CBCP’s behavior to be less than honest and forthright.

And it is partly because of this that on a deeper level, the ‘parent-child’ relationship between the Church and its flock has changed profoundly. The metaphor of Holy Mother Church propagated for centuries seems to be running its course. Clearly a new metaphor is needed. What is shaping up is an adherence to Christianity on a more personal, individualistic basis. Catholics are following the dictates of their consciences over the command of pastoral letters issued by bishops from time to time.

I was introduced to religion at an early age and I was quite devout during certain periods in my life. But as I grew older, I began to lose the taste for much of the trappings that go with its traditions. I began to feel that the Church was assuming to know too much what God wants His followers to do in the world. It delved too much into subjects and areas of modern living it knew little about. I began to see the bishops of the CBCP as rulers of an empire trying to hold on to its fading glory by edict in order to compete with secular power, often failing to consider scientific evidence and rational logic in its discourse with the community.

I know many priests, mostly Jesuits, who continue to inspire and demonstrate compassion, intelligence, love and respect for others amid the debate on RH and other issues. To me, they mirror a Christianity that is closer to the teachings of the Christ I got to know in school. They do not show disdain, judgment or condemnation for people who support the RH bill. Instead, they advise Catholics to follow their own consciences. They are some the few people I still listen to without cynicism when it comes to religious issues.

Earlier, I suggested that a person needs to undergo a crisis before embracing a religion. I also said that religion is like one’s parents. When a person is in crisis, his take on religion is simple: He asks for help. An adult on the verge of a meltdown would have a primal child-like yearning for the love and assurance of his mother or father that he will make it through.

But I also believe that in order to grow up and come into one’s own, one must step out of the sphere of influence of one’s parents’ and find his own truth. I remember telling my Mom once that to me, a parent’s job is to raise children who will ultimately outgrow them and become their own persons. She smiled, because that was precisely how she raised us.

In the same vein, I feel that to get to know God more, I must also travel on uncharted paths outside the paved roads of organized religion. Even without religion God I believe talks to each one of us.

I want a direct experience of God, not one filtered through dogma and other imposed restrictions.

After all, is there any religion that can truly and honestly claim to know God completely?

Those murderous frats

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated August 05, 2012 12:00 AM

Another one bites the dust.

Drei Marcos, a young man who wanted be a lawyer was murdered last week by the fraternity he wanted to join. Killing, maiming and injury done by fraternities to those who wish to join them have been going on since as far back I can remember. This is not new. But even if it has become a rather common occurrence, each time it happens, we are deeply upset, dumbfounded, angered, asking why something as senseless as this had to happen.

I have been trying to understand and analyze two things: one, why fraternities are attractive to young people, and two, why violence has to be involved in the recruitment process.

Picture a young man who enters a big university. From the high school he has just graduated from, college can seem like the big new world he has dreamed of for sometime. This is where he will take the course that will set him up on a successful career for life.

He ensures his chances for success by seeing to it that there are enough things going in his favor. He needs to take the best classes under the best professors, join the best orgs, and of course, be aligned with the best fraternities which have in their roster powerful power players in society and already successful practitioners in the field he wishes to enter. After all, the frats do foster and develop a culture of camaraderie and brotherhood where members vow to help and protect their brods and help them rise in society.

To be among these elite and be bonded with them by virtue of simply belonging to the same fraternity is something that is desirable and good. Besides, a big group that can help make college life so much easier will really help, especially if you are from the province and studying in Manila for the first time. They know the ins and outs of campus life, and are well-connected in helping you have a social life. What could be wrong with that?

But to join a frat, there is the initiation, which often involves physical violence inflicted by more senior members on the neophyte. The elders pull rank and demand complete obedience from the aspiring member. No doubt, this situation opens everyone to the dynamic of abuse. The higher ups exercise their power over the aspirants, and the common and accepted way to do this is to humble the newbies by inflicting some physical violence.

It is not difficult to see that there is participation mystique or a trance at play here. One guy takes a whack at a neophyte with a paddle and everyone else takes their shot at doing the same thing. There is something primal here and as primal urges go, people often lose all sense of civilized behavior and rational perspective as they get into a frenzy of violence.

One guy hits harder than usual. There is probably some prompting going on to hit harder. There is camaraderie among those inflicting the violence. “What could be wrong? Hey, we all went through it,” must be the common justification playing in their minds, or the little that’s left of it.

Rationality and compassion fly out the window. No one is thinking of the feelings and physical condition of the young man undergoing the hazing. It’s all happening in the spirit of brotherhood.

No one is thinking about the incongruity and utter madness of the situation — that they are bloodying someone in the name of brotherhood and bonding. And never mind that the fraternity members are law students and their meritorious seniors are topnotch lawyers and politicians with prestigious standing in society. And certainly, no one in the room would dare ask how all this violence and maiming will make anyone a better lawyer or leader who will respect the laws that govern the nation.

What is happening there is a shame and a shaming. Each one who takes a whack at the victim was also whacked when he joined. He was humiliated, scorned, cursed, made to do unconscionable things. And now he is passing it on to this neophyte. And when it is all over, they are “brothers,” bonded in shame. Like in Vegas, what happens during initiation stays there. A vow of silence guarantees that.

The practice is so entrenched; it has been going on for years. Many frat men have survived it, but a growing number have met violent deaths at the hands of their so-called “brothers.”

Every time I hear news about a senseless death through frat initiation, I think not only of what the victim went through but also what their parents will be going though for the rest of their lives. How is it that a life one brought into the world, nurtured, fed, educated, cared for, protected and loved for years is snuffed out in so senseless a manner? How can a son be alive and full of idealism and promise one day and be dead the next? What did he do to deserve this? All he wanted was to be a lawyer or whatever it is his ambition was.

And how do the killers, who were born of so-called good families and studied in prestigious schools, live with what they have done for the rest of their lives? How do they justify what happened? How can they live with the awful truth not just as lawyers who vowed to uphold the law and deliver justice but as simple human beings? Will they not get married and have children of their own someday? Would they want this to happen to them?

The stonewalling of the truth in many of these cases goes all the way up to the high echelons of power where many of their brods reside, and who often look out for their beloved fraternal members and protect them from punishment.

Earlier, I tweeted in disgust the question, “What is the difference between murderous fraternities and the Mafia?” I answered my own question with, “Sometimes, the Mafia gets caught.”

The authorities must get to the bottom of this murder and deliver justice. And universities and colleges must clamp down hard on these practices. We must get rid of this culture of shaming and bullying that bonds people in a dynamic no different from the Mafia, gangs and other violent organizations.

You want real bonding? Go build GK houses, do social work, plant a million trees, or test your strength by climbing a mountain where you expend physical power on something socially constructive and physically satisfying. That’s real character building that will certainly improve the practice of law and politics in this country.

* * *

At last, there will be a run of Tapping the Creative Universe, the six-session version. This is the most-cutting edge creativity workshop for adults. Dates are Aug. 13, 15, 17, 20, 22 at 7 to 9 p.m. Venue is at Arts in the City, FVR Park, 7th Ave and Federacion Drive, Bonifacio Global City, Taguig. Call 399-2311, 880-3028 or e-mail info@artsinthecity.ph for details. http://www.artsinthecity.ph/news-and-....

26 reasons why it’s hard to say goodbye to Manila forever

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated July 29, 2012

My Philippine passport carries an Australian permanent resident visa that allows me to enjoy living, working and having the opportunities that regular Aussie citizens have in that country. Believe me, that’s a lot of privileges we are talking about including the many social benefits for health and education that Sydneysiders enjoy. There are a whole lot more goodies I can avail of as a resident there.

And yet, as the song Manila by Hotdog goes, “I keep coming back to Manila,” something I catch myself singing and doing all too often. Despite all our seemingly unsolvable problems — traffic, flooding, peace and order just to name a few — it is still difficult to write off Manila completely and just live in Sydney.

Here are 26 reasons why this is so.

1. The smiles are easy and natural in the faces of the people here. Even when people are shown on TV reporting a crime where they were victimized, it is not uncommon to still see them smiling somewhat. Why? I don’t know for sure. We are naturally friendly and easy-going even compared to Aussies whose “no worries, mate” mantra I have always found comforting. But I do believe it could be part of our coping mechanism. Whoever it was who said that “We laugh because we do not want to cry”, might as well have explained correctly why we smile amidst the often chaotic life we live here.

2. Manila is a 24-hour city. Sydney is not. One can find a restaurant even at three in the morning for some snacks. Sydney’s malls and shops close around 6 p.m., generally.

3. The Greater Manila Area has lots of what I call “pockets of nice.” There’s Eastwood, the Fort, Glorietta, and many other places that stand in contrast to the squalor that is in a lot of places and has been around for quite a long time. Because of their contrasts, these “pockets of nice” seem to stand out more.

4. Manila has quite a variety of restaurants to enjoy. And that is putting it rather mildly. There are so many eateries to savor everywhere. And there’s a quite a variety to choose from. I would be hard put to come up with a list of just 10 places since there are so many I would rate as quite good or even excellent.

5. It does not cost as much money to have a great time in Manila. Going “out on the town” in Sydney easily costs double or even triple to enjoy its Manila equivalent.

6. It’s easier to plan outings in Manila. I’m certainly not talking about traffic here. People are quite busy with their jobs and running their lives without household help in Sydney, so to indulge in a sudden dinner out with friends or go on sudden whimsical flights of fancy to a mall or some other place will take more days of planning.

7. The chances of having friends to invite out or hang around with in Manila is much greater simply because we probably have more friends here than in Sydney.

8. To have tailor-made clothes is easier and more affordable to do in Manila. I have yet to meet anyone in Sydney who has had tailor-made outfits done there. It’s just too damn expensive.

9. Our rainy weather here in Manila, which occurs almost the same time as winter in Australia, is actually more suited to the Filipino. I would rather use a mild sweater when it gets cold here than wake up shaking in single-digit temperatures while having to, say, clean the car, mow the lawn, or just do anything outdoors in Sydney.

10. This sounds crazy, but one is less paranoid about driving in Manila than in Sydney. It can be quite traumatic to fail a driving test, as some people I know can attest. The rules are many and quite strict. Enforcement is quite merciless. In Manila, very few ever really get caught violating traffic rules.

11. Dental and eye care, generally not covered by insurance in Sydney, is a lot cheaper in Manila. A lot of Pinoys who live in Sydney plan a vacation home and have dental and eye work done while visiting here. One time, my son had to have four tooth extractions done costing many hundreds of dollars per tooth without the cost of an anesthesiologist, and so he opted to travel home and have it done in Manila at less than half the cost plus vacation.

12. One may see a lot of insects here but you can be comforted by the fact that unlike New South Wales, which is home to many of the deadliest spiders, snakes and other creepy crawlies in the world, one will probably not die when bitten by spiders and the like here.

13. We have household help! That frees many from the tedium of housework and many other chores.

14. We have drivers! The traffic thus becomes a lot more bearable.

15. We have tricycles. Sometimes, I wish they had them in Sydney, especially when one has to walk long distances during summer.

16. Christmas has pleasantly cool weather in Manila. In Sydney, it’s tank-top time. The yuletide season is in the middle of warm summer and that can be a bit jarring to Pinoys.

17. When dealing with banks, groceries or other services, the exchange between customer and client, though more efficient in Sydney, is often friendlier in Manila. For one thing, there is no accent barrier and so one is less tense because one can be easily understood.

18. People need less documentation to present when renting homes. But in Australia, the ID system can be quite strict. To rent a house, one needs a 100 points or more of ID, meaning one must present a driver’s license (50 points), an employment slip (50 points), credit cards (10 points), etc.

19. In Manila, there are less restrictions about home repairs, extensions, etc. In Sydney, the council determines what can or cannot be done. Sometimes, this can get to be quite complicated.

20. Socially, one can find easier access. Relatives, classmates, province mates, etc., play a more important role in making one feel socially accepted.

21. There’s more time for to enjoy the material things one owns here than in Sydney where one’s time is spent doing home and office work.

22. It is easier to take care of younger children in Manila with the presence of yayas, in-laws, parents, etc. Everyone is helping out.

23. Movies are much cheaper here. In Sydney, we almost always watch movies on Tuesdays since that’s the only day when tickets are half-priced, and even with the hefty discount, it is still more expensive than in Manila.

24. It is cheaper to own cars here. In Australia, there are inspection fees to register one’s car. Throw in insurance and each car can cost you more than P40,000 every year. Insurance premiums increase with every traffic violation you do, and will also depend on the overall peace and order situation where you live.

25. Bargain sales are more spectacular here — by a mile!

26. Lastly, while everything is more chaotic in Manila, one gets the inexplicable feeling of “home” even amidst the discomfort and ruckus. Like I always say, even the potholes somehow “speak” to me in Manila. In a foreign country, one can feel total alienation amidst the hum of efficiency. Why? Because even if it has become home, it is still an adopted one.

To be fair, I could also make an entire list of 26 reasons why It is hard to give up Sydney. And that list would be as easy as making this!

Reversals of fortune

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated July 22, 2012 12:00

The APO did a show once for our kababayans in Rome. The hall was full. It was a great show and we all felt good about it. I still remember the curtain calls amid a standing ovation.

The next day, on a train, my wallet containing 600 euros was stolen despite the steps I had taken not be ripped off in that notorious city.

In a second, I descended from a high mountaintop to a deep valley. A sudden steep decline in fortune is how I describe it. It happened so quickly. After an hour frantically calling up credit card companies to stop payment on anything charged to my stolen cards, I just had to laugh at how silly my situation was. A humorous saying played in my mind that went, “Sometimes you are the statue, and sometimes you are the dove.” Indeed.

It happens, and it will happen to everyone at some point and in some form. We have seen the high and mighty fall — dictators, rulers, big businessmen, VIPs — lose everything almost in a snap. Marcos, Khadafy, Noriega, Idi Amin come to mind.

It has also happened to empires, states and even markets. The economic meltdown in the US cost taxpayers close to a trillion dollars in losses. Many who had assumed a life of stability and even prosperity, lost everything practically overnight.

While it is true that losing is a more dramatic and bigger story when it happens suddenly, it is still painful nonetheless, however slowly or quickly it occurs.

One may be hard put to explain why these things happen, but it is easier to see why from a philosophical standpoint. Apart from the immediate cause and effect, or clear and immediate reasons why things happen, there are other elements that may be playing out universally.

Buddhists call it karma, which does not always mean punishment. It is simply the basic law of cause and effect at work. When things, events unravel as they do, they are merely following karmic law. What is reaped is sown and what is sown is reaped. That’s how everything is explained. This belief in karma is the driving force behind the spiritual practice of Buddhism which leads its adherents to compassion.

In New Age circles, the reversal of fortunes would be called an energy exchange or a transfer that occurs between two parties to balance things out. Where energy is needed, it will go.

The fundamental laws of nature point to the same direction somewhat, and this is evident when an animal or being is killed to become the food and sustenance of another, so it may live. Even humans do this. We kill millions of cows, pigs, chickens daily to eat. Evolutionists call it survival of the fittest. From a Darwinian point of view, it is clear what is happening.

The Christian view may not be far behind. There is also the trading of life — where one gives up his life so that another may live. The main difference is in the voluntary quality of giving that it espouses. Christian charity, whether it is doing good acts or giving wealth, time or even one’s life, is done out of the goodness of one’s heart which seems to be outside the imperatives of nature’s laws.

Jesus did exactly that. While every mortal and sentient being will eventually die, very few do so voluntarily. The claim of Christianity is that Jesus voluntarily chose death so that others may live. In one way, He did not defy Nature’s way but went along with the idea of a life for a life. He gave his life in exchange for our liberation. I am not stressing here the quantity of the lives He gave his up for, but the fact that He voluntary did it. That, to me, is significant. It is a game changer.

I follow Bill Gates on Twitter and often he tweets about how his foundation is helping many people fight disease, hunger and ignorance all over the world. I hear of Warren Buffett giving billions and volunteering to pay more taxes to ease the burden of poorer Americans. There are people like Mother Teresa and Gandhi who gave not material things but their lifetimes to help others. There are many others who are doing good things for the less fortunate and it is indeed admirable that they do so.

Call it energy transfer from a yin of abundance to the yang of scarcity, or good karmic deeds that can only produce cosmic good, or plain old Christian charity and kindness where one simply sees God in one’s neighbors. Whatever it is, it is wonderful. It elevates the conditions of those who are in want and relieves the suffering of others.

The basic premise behind why people do good deeds is that it makes things better for the recipient, and yes, for the giver too, even if those who give often do not claim any credit. And indeed it does. If we look at our own lives, we know we have been touched by the goodness done by others, and we have at some point experienced the act of giving. And we know deep down that it is good and right.

It makes me wonder though, given all these realizations, why is that many cling to untold wealth and great excess and find it hard to part with material things which they obviously cannot consume even in three lifetimes? Why are there misers in the world?

As much as there is an impulse to give, there is also an impulse to withhold, or to hoard. And despite my admittedly limited understanding of human nature, I believe that the difference lies in some kind of faith (or lack of it) in the unseen hand of the Divine.

If I went back to the time my first child was born and tried to compute how much it cost me to raise her till age 21, I would surely have balked at the idea of having two more children. Surely, if I had projected then what I had to pay for every single need she had or blessing she received that gave her the opportunity to learn, grow and expand as a human being, I would have been dumbfounded and depressed and left feeling reckless and irresponsible. Clearly, my own resources would not have been sufficient to cover all this.

But it is natural to hope for something better. There is an unspoken optimism we have that life, while unpredictable, can also be blessed. Life is abundant and perhaps even unlimited. And it is serendipitous. And this is where the spirit of giving comes from.

Sad are those who trust only their own resources for their vision is limited and their experience of life is miserly. In their world, grace is hardly noticed nor appreciated when it appears. They have a really small corner of the unlimited sky.

Ruminations on death and life

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated July 15, 2012 12:00 AM

Dolphy is dead.”

The news came as a jolt while I was reading tweet questions on my Samsung tab as host of an online streaming show on music. A series of tweets from friends flooded my timeline outnumbering the questions that came regarding my RadioRepublicPH show. I was shaken and had to pause for a while then I went off-topic and announced that Dolphy had passed away.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012, just before 9 p.m. will be remembered as a moment when all Filipinos felt a collective sadness and sorrow. It was when the familiar showbiz mask of laughter finally gave way to the mask of tears. Yin had turned to yang. The King of Comedy had breathed his last.

Dolphy entertained many generations of Filipinos with his brand of comedy. He was a man who was loved by all. I even once met a man from Japan who told me that he would fly to the Manila when there was a new Dolphy movie out.

We have already read and seen a lot of things about Dolphy since his death last Tuesday, so this will not be a bio on Dolphy but a rumination on Death and Life.

Death has been called many names — a thief in the night, a transition, a passing, a crossing over, the end of suffering, the final adventure, the great liberation. To those who would demystify it by avoiding its full implications, death is reduced to “collateral damage.” And death is guilty as charged of all of the above.

That there are many names for death is probably because it is one of the great mysteries of life that literally gives us great pause. Why? Because death is the opposite of life. When death happens, life’s many concerns stand still.

Like love, sex, and even God, death is one of life’s unsolvable puzzles that will forever remain a mystery to man. It makes us think deeply about our own lives and how fragile and transient we really are. Sure, we know that we will die one day. But that is at best a mental concept until we see it happen to our loved ones, and until it finally happens to us.

My uncle described martial law in the ‘70s as something that was not real until it happened. Death is very much like that. We are in great denial of it for the most part. How does one explain the great shock, grief and sadness we feel when death comes, even if we already know that it is inevitable?

“Dying is fearsome. It hath been often said that it is not death, but dying, which is terrible,” wrote the novelist Henry Fielding. There is the pain, the loss, the contraction, the aloneness, which are anathema to everything we crave for in life. We want comfort, the spaciousness and abundance of life, and we want to experience all these with the people we love. But the time will come when life’s rent money runs out and we must give up our space among the living. It will happen to everyone.

But life goes on even after death, as it will for those left behind and, from all accounts and practical projections, it always will in some form or another. The living must move on until it is their turn to face death. Meanwhile, the bills must be paid, the job done, exigencies attended to. The drama, joy, tears and struggle of staying alive must not stop, until it is time to stop. That is the mandate given to those who are left behind.

There is so much to wonder about the meaning of life, and what the afterlife could be about. Some are sure of the answers because of faith; some because of science. Some do not know. The faithful, the scientific and the agnostic may have little to agree on. And to be quite realistic about it, no one really knows for sure who is right. Life and death never reveal enough to give us answers we can securely latch on to.

What stumps me is this: we are unborn, then we are born into this world, and then we disappear without a trace. We start from nothingness, we come to life, and we eventually die. Coming from the eternal void, we become finite mortals and we die unto the eternal void. We are like shooting stars. Our life is a blaze of glory lighting the night until it ends without a trace.

“A comet streaks across the sky, but the hum of the universe remains the same.”

Among the three stages I mentioned, the living part, tough as it already is, is still the easiest to make sense of. Think about it. We seem to be mortals addicted to immortality. We are transients who think we will last forever. We are the eternal beings playing in the fields of time and space. We are earthbound creatures who like to look up to the stars. We are imperfect creatures who can conceive perfection. We are as big a paradox as death is.

Death reminds us of who we are and what we must do while we are alive. And what we must do is live as though our contributions will be forever enshrined in the continuing story of mankind. In a sense, despite the march of time, everything we do will live forever, not in its original form, size, impact or dimension, but as part of the entire human effort to evolve into higher beings and experiences.

“Death is the dropping of the flower, that the fruit may swell,” said the 19th-century social reformist Henry Ward Beecher. Our lives may be a speck of sand in the eternal desert but they form part of the pillar that holds up the sky for all. Like beads in an endless rosary, we all have a moment that comes up momentarily and passes, but we can be sure we have contributed somehow to the sacred ritual of life.

Life is a blink in eternity. For some it is a moment of lucidity when ones’ eyes are open. For others, it is a moment when one’s eyes are closed.

I would like to think the message of death is that it is part of life. That is its craziness, and its paradox. We must therefore embrace death and face it with the same passion and purpose as we embrace life.

Cosmic goodies

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated July 08, 2012 12:00 AM

The other day, I posted an audio message on Bubbly, an Internet social network site that I titled “Enlightenment in 80 Seconds” that got some good response. Today, I would like to expand on the topic, by attempting to describe enlightenment more elaborately, more than what I can say in 80 seconds, and using only so many words.

I don’t know if this is at all possible, for two reasons. One, I may have to write a whole thick book to even just skim the surface but I only have this small column. Two, as much as I want to tell you about it, words can never capture the essence of enlightenment.

That is a paradox in itself. There is much to say about it, but the more you talk about it, the harder it is to get to the bottom of it. So let’s forget the thick book. Besides, my Zen teacher advised me to not read books about enlightenment, and just go with the flow of experience.

There are states of consciousness that are within the territory of enlightenment. These are the states of Kensho or satori, which are some of the terms Zen has for this unique experience.

I will not try to tackle the topic in a scholarly way. Instead, I am taking you to a mountain or a view deck near the territory where we look to the horizon — north, south, east and west — and hopefully see enlightenment from a distance.

?In everyday life, we like to compartmentalize, split or separate things from each other. My philosophy teacher used to say that one has a sense of oneself by knowing what he or she is not. It goes something like this: I know I am me, or this body is who I am because I see a chair, a table, the garden and I know them to be separate from my body.

This suggests a dualistic view of things. There is the subject which is “I,” and there are the objects everywhere. In this dualistic existence where we live, things are always perceived as split into sides, like good vs. bad, hot vs. cold, white vs. black, brilliant vs. stupid, safe vs. unsafe, friend vs. stranger, and so on.

The part of us that makes this judgment is the ego, which wants the most comfortable existence. It goes for the best and it does so by judging what it considers to be good, advantageous and best for us. This is basically how we live everyday life.

This duality serves us in many ways. And it is the way of the world and its various disciplines and how all fields of knowledge and perception are arranged and programmed. ?There is you (subject) acting on the world (object). You have a job, family, bills to pay. You eat, work, pray, love, laugh, cry, feel, play in the dual realm.

But once in a while, it happens that you sense a stillness, like time stopping. There is a silence in the middle of whatever is going on and there appears to be a bigger reality arising. A spaciousness outside the field of all the divisions and dualities, time and space, good and bad, is unfolding and the noise of life gives way to a deep silence.

Your perception field — where you see things like inside and outside, you and me, subject and object — blur and boundary lines that separate you from them melt away. A new reality seems to open itself up.

As you gaze around seeing objects, you begin to ask yourself the nature of what you are seeing, hearing, feeling. And as you go deeper, more than asking “what,” you begin to explore more fundamental questions like who is it that looks through your eyes, hears through your ears, feels through your skin and perceives through your senses?

Who indeed. Is it the real you? Which is that real you? Are you participant or witness? Is it your soul, your Spirit that is witnessing everything, including you?

?Your sense of “self” has stopped being the center of sensation. The “I” that once ruled your thoughts seems far away. While there are still thoughts arising, you wonder who is thinking them. They arise and depart like clouds passing. There is nothing to like or unlike about them or anything in the field of reality. Everything is phenomena rising, just as the sun and the moon both rise and set. They are no different from the planets and stars orbiting, the wind passing, the leaves rustling, the cat meowing, the grass and foliage growing and dying, the lighting flashing, the cars passing, pedestrians walking, the world turning.

?Everything is simply arising, you included. Amazingly, you have ceased becoming a subject. There is no one watching, not a “you” at the very least. There is only the field where all this is happening. There is “no one” experiencing it. If there was, it would still be a dualistic experience. And the word “it” becomes a meaningless word since an object implies there is a subject. How can there be an object when the subject is gone? There is really no one home. There is only the radiance of connectedness, unity, Oneness.

?When I first stumbled upon this, I was floored. There were songs that were playing in my mind. One was the Beatles’ I Am the Walrus, which starts with “I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together…” Another song was The Stylistics’ You Are Everything (and Everything Is You).

?The connectedness of all parts in the united field that we know to be reality was palpable. There are really no parts, just a unity including my “self” in it. Things were not separate, divided, dualistic. Everything was in its proper place and that was a divine and mind-boggling discovery. There was a great feeling of Being, of Spirit witnessing everything. Spirit permeated everything. Spirit was every thing that was being, happening, passing and fading. There was nothing that it was not.

?Being was the entire limitless field of phenomena. There was nothing it was not. And strangely enough, it was a limitless “I.” It was all there was. And yet, I could see the objects around me with perfect clarity. The bed was a bed. The window was still a window. No magic here. It was not my mind playing tricks, no sleight of hand or smoke and mirrors. It was an awakening to the radiance of reality, the suchness of everything. It was Spirit rising, recognizing its own awakening and switching me on as a portal.

There is a sense of awe that goes with what is undoubtedly a God experience. It’s like everything becomes a portal to the divine.

Like I said, words do get in the way. And I don’t know how many can actually relate to what I have written here. That’s all right. I have taken the risk of being criticized for writing about my experience with enlightenment. But I have done so because I realize that every aspect of true reality that presents itself to a few, must in the end become available to everyone.

The real cosmic deal here is: a powerful reality, or Truth, will choose to reveal itself to you, but in exchange, you must talk, write, shout about it regardless of consequences. That’s how you pay for the cosmic goodies.

As it has been and always will be.

Countering the ‘secret doubt’

HUMMING IN MY UNIVERSE By Jim Paredes (The Philippine Star) Updated July 01, 2012 12:00 AM

 I don’t know if it happens to all public figures but I — and my friends who live public lives — especially those in showbiz, often experience this. I am talking about how we who live public lives react to adulation and criticism.

It feels strange that even when one delivers a good performance and gets generally good or even outstanding reviews, things can turn sour because of a few negative reactions. Public persons are sensitive to public reaction, especially to the negative ones, even in the face of overwhelming positive reviews. And sometimes it does not even matter if the bad review is fair, balanced or spiteful. A bad review is a bad review and it is painful.

The public person will almost always focus on the singular bad review in the midst of the many raves and be disproportionately affected by it. Such is the nature of fame.I have often asked myself why this is so. Perhaps it is because on a white page, a tiny stain becomes more evident. Or maybe because public life carries with it the great self-delusion that one is perfect to begin with.

Perhaps.

But then, I have found that this rule seems to apply to almost everyone else as well, even to ordinary, non-public persons who live more mundane lives. The one bad or even only mediocre grade on a report card, for example, can totally eclipse the glory of an otherwise outstanding academic performance assessment. After living as long as I have, I have realized a few things. One of them is that there is good and bad in everyone. That is something anyone who has ever wronged or been wronged discovers in a profound way.I have also thought a lot about why, in our minds, the bad easily overshadows the good, and why we project this to the world.

I am not sure if there is any merit to these thoughts but here goes:The crux of the matter lies in our propensity for self-rejection. Deep down, we feel we are not good enough, bright enough, worthy enough, deserving enough to feel otherwise. Julia Cameron, author of the book, The Artist’s Way refers to it as the “secret doubt” that we all harbor deep down that makes us feel we do not deserve to lead creative lives.She defines secret doubt as “the doubt that we are really creative and deserving of the care we need.” This is the major stumbling block to living a vibrant, productive and creative life.

This is probably similar to what Original Sin is about in the Christian matrix, that we are born “damaged” and in need of repair and salvation, and Jesus alone can save us.In creativity workshops that I give, I always stress the fact that the very first thing one must do to be creative is to “show up.” If we don’t show up, none of our dreams, aspirations or ambitions can come true. Extend this thought to achieving personal joy and happiness. If you do not show up for what makes you happy, it won’t and can’t happen.

But even as you show up for whatever it is you want for your life, there is something else that shows up as well. It is self-doubt, self-rejection, the crosstalk inside ourselves that questions why we are even falling in line for bigger dreams and joys. Self-destruction is a constant temptation.I am not sure if we were we born this way. But I tend to believe the psychologists who say that conditioning —how one was raised — could have much to do with excessive self-loathing.

Any quest for self-liberation, whether personal or spiritual, must consider this dilemma. The aim is to conquer self-defeating attitudes, to neutralize destructive self-talk so that more of the good in us can shine and lead us to live more happy lives.It is sad that mostly, we are in denial of what is good, wonderful and creative about us. We are born with more power and potential for good than what we can imagine but we insist on leading downgraded lives.

The apt Buddhist imagery of the son or daughter of the king who insists on begging in the market place comes to mind. We must treat ourselves in a manner that is befitting our real stature as creatures of God.I am not sure if one can eradicate or neutralize destructive self-talk completely. And perhaps we should not totally eradicate it since a healthy dose can keep us grounded.

There is a place for healthy skepticism, which has a balancing role to play, that is quite different from the secret doubt mentioned above.The secret doubt is probably one major reason why people strive for popularity, power, success and admiration, because it frees them from self-loathing. But when we fail and fall, the secret doubt bounces back and expresses itself ever louder about how right it is about us, and that we are actually worthless and unlovable to begin with. 

I leave you with a quote from Henri J.M. Nouwen, a Dutch Catholic priest who wrote, “Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the ‘Beloved.’ Being the Beloved constitutes the core truth of our existence.”

The spiritual exercises that work for me are self-affirmations that remind me of the good inside and counter the self-loathing. These are: that I carry within me the Creator’s DNA and so I can’t help but be creative; that I am a force of good; and that I am capable and powerful enough to create things and situations in images and likenesses that reflect the greatness of the Greatest Artist of all.Try this exercise.

Choose your own affirmation. It works.