Back to my Soul

    As I took another eight-hour trip back home from Cebu, I realized that I had momentarily lost my sense of time. I was so engaged with what I was I doing: reflecting. It was something I have to do to finish my thesis about the journey of the former beneficiaries of Holy Family Home-Bacolod, though reflecting has become a part of my life. It is something that sounds so simple yet had been giving me difficult and painful moments.In some parts of the process, I found myself praying, sleeping, thinking, crying and then laughing. It was emotions felt on the extreme poles.I thought it was an escape but a deeper thought of it made me realize that I am not escaping, but rather embracing the here and the now. The journey has taken me to a different world: a world which has made me become more aware of my reality and the realities of the people I have met along the way.

    I tried to look for a calendar, but I failed to find one. My phone’s battery was empty. I looked all around me but all I see was tall trees in a zigzag road. I was hungry and it seemed that all I have was only me. It was dark outside but I felt a sense of security because the bus was continuously moving. That was so me: someone who is so afraid to remain stagnant, someone who always want to keep going and someone who is always so enthusiastic to throw myself in somewhere different or new. It was the kind of me that made me feel tired at times, but it was the same kind of me that made me know many people and places beyond faces, beyond names, beyond one period of time.

     That was a journey of going back to my soul. Subsequently, the journey of going through myself has taught me an important realization about who I am. I am not all like what I had taught to be I was. Removing another mask, there is also another me who can find consolation and freedom from being in solitary and still moments. Taking away what I have and who I think I am, I am still a child of God. God’s power is behind my growth and anything and everything in me and about me. There is a part of me who just continuously bloom though I remain in the same space. There is a part of me who can brave visiting the past in order to appreciate the present and then discover the so many possibilities of the future.

     This phenomenological process has a transformative effect to me. It is not all the time that we can hear such true stories of moving forward despite all the heartaches and brokenness. The narratives I had gathered and reflected upon are immortal. These narratives are source of inspiration and learning. These are our testimonies of courage, faith, hope and love. Our journey is a journey of blessing and empowering one another.It is a journey worth taking and worth telling in words and even in dreams. Our journey is a journey of risks and responsibilities, resonating common themes yet uniquely woven by the hands of our Maker Himself. These are journeys worth reflecting for.

Photo by: Rose Victoria

     We may lose the exact name of time or seasons in our journey, just like what happened to me now; or chose to leave behind some aspects of it but we will never totally forget the memories and the learning. Our set of individual, collective and intertwining journeys are meant to make us more human. They are meant to change us for the better and so we are all resolved to continue journeying knowing that there are always something new to learn, unlearn or relearn and mask, unmask or re-mask each time. We will continue to audaciously grow from our sorrows and joy. We will move, run, sit, crawl, and kneel if we have too. We will love. We will live. We will not give up.

Growing in Faith

    It is in the actual encounters of living that we discover the many realities and thousand possibilities there are. In life, we are being taught by others, by our experiences and then by our own self how to journey with whatever we have and whoever we are--- our resources, our skills, the significant people in our lives, and then most of all, our faith so that we can keep on going no matter what.

    Plants have beautiful stories of growing.Their needs must be sufficiently met but even though we left them behind at times, they just have natural way of growing. The sunlight, the wind and the rain are God’s ways of taking care of them. When we look around us, we see their beauty and then a grand showcase of how God would support so many lives.

Cebu City, Philippines

    Whether the plants don’t get enough or they get too much, they still continue to give in something to the earth even though they consume so little space-in a piece of land or in a clay pot or in a tin can, they just keep on growing.

    It is in a more exciting and amazing way that we, human beings grow too. We are faced with many changes and challenges. Some are nurtured well by our parents, our caretakers, our friends,our mentors and other significant people around us. Some experienced neglect,abandonment and betrayal and it would take real experiences of love for healing to take place. Love has special way of making people care and give. It has a special way of making people understand things, even if it seems to be confusing or hard to digest. It has a special way of making people share some sunlight, or some water or some space. It has a special way of nurturing our faith.

    Our story of growing is also a story of our relationship with God. There may be many distractions or frustrations that we have to bear in life, but if we never turn our path away from God we will successfully overcome anything and everything. Our faith grows when we recognize the fact that we have never been through any battle alone. God is always there for us, in every step of our growth. It is because of Him that we find joy in serving our purpose. It is through Him and with Him that we learn how to care, co-exist, and then love one another. It is through Him that we can blossom like plants.

Misgivings

Here's another beautifully crafted poem written by Anonymous Ken. 

In your silence I speak my mind

What you've lost I can find

Shut me out and you can hear me

Close your eyes, it is I you see.

In your thoughts hear me shout

What your life is all about

Of real hearts, all can lie

Painful sobs, your lullaby.

In your mind you betray

Your loyal self, your dismay

Have you gone off the edge

Broken self, broken pledge.

Hear me laugh in the night

As you close your eyes tight

In the dark, you're not spared

For your sins are all bared.

With yourself, you argue

Why great things they've left you

Barren, fertile hearts can go

Deserts even may soon snow.

Misgivings!

Damned misgivings!

Misgivings hurt the soul

The body takes the toll.

When will slaves be freed

From their hearts of greed?

Court yourself bring it to justice

Change your deeds, what you practise

Leave the pack and find your head

For with them you are dead.

Misgivings!

Burnt misgivings!

Take a break from your hell

Even you, you can tell

How you hide from the truth

Mask yourself with your youth!

Misgivings!

Sly misgivings!

Die tonight in your mask

To yourself you shall ask:

Have I led a decent life

Was sin ever my sole wife?

Did I leave a friend to hang

Did I push him to a tang?

Did I fail to shine my light

With a friend who was my might?

Misgivings!

Shrewd misgivings!

In Water

     It is a joy to feature this poem of a brilliant man, whose works never fails to amaze me. His metaphors and ways of connecting words and ideas would always make me reflect more. Works such as this shows one special and irrefutable thing - that there is soul in writing...

 In Water
By: Anonymous Ken

In lakes it can be still, in rivers the water falls
My hopes all surge from springs, the water sends some calls
I am a little cloud by lagoons I'm softly cradled
I'm running with the wind, all free, untamed, unbridled.

I am a little brook tiptoeing in the forest
A silent shrill my voice declaring love so earnest
But I can be a pond and peaceful I can be
Be glad to have some ripples, the ones that all can see.

And I can be a harbor with boats and ships in sight
Adorned by architecture and crowned with kinds of light.
Yes I can be a marsh, quite graceful but mysterious
Unsure what evil lurks, quite eerie, even vicious.

I'll be an oasis, in deserts I shall quench you
Or I can be a swamp, in forests you shall run through.
Shall I just be a stream which hopes to meet the sea
In deltas I can scream, so happy I can be!

I can be an inlet, so humble and obscure
Of waters I quiet, so simple and demure.
But I think I shall ask, this one important question
Can I just be a sea in the middle of an ocean?

Taken at Bangui, Ilocos Norte

Water above me
Water below me
Water around me
Water inside me.

Even my sorrows are washed away with water
As they escape from the windows of my soul
As I am cleansed when I do falter
My brokenness to be made whole.

Engulfed I was in sacred womb
In water I attained this life
Engulfed I'd be, my holy tomb
When water ends my strife.

Water above me, water below me
All goodness it shall rain
Water around me, water inside me
I vow to drown disdain.

Water above me, water below me
I cast my beating heart
Water around me, water inside me
Death is one holy art.

For love is but a series of deaths we don't imagine
And deaths are all beginnings of love, one pure contagion
In love we die each day, reborn to forge our death
In water can't take, the glory of one breath.

But water all we are, around us we are found
Convoluted and bizarre so funny it may sound
In water we shall live, in water we shall die
In water we decay, in water we shall fly!

Water above me
Water below me
Water around me
Water inside me. — in Bangui.

Picking up the Pieces

    In Father Sean’s blog and in our Misyon forum, he spoke about the resiliency of Filipinos; of people ‘picking up from pieces and starting again.’ Yesterday, I have seen such both literally and in the deeper meaning of those words. Along the way, we have seen how people started ‘picking up the pieces’ of woods, wires, trees, plants, chairs, clothing, toys, and some documents like notebooks in school and several photographs. We’ve seen how they tried building their houses and fixing their roofs again. We were able to talk with some of them, and if I could think of a theme that really came out from short conversations with them, then that would be starting again. They talked about praying incessantly not just about themselves but for other survivors and victims of Yolanda. The mayor of Cadiz City, Negros Occidental told our group that there were 7000 damaged houses.

    
      Rehabilitation would take time. On our way home, darkness covers the community because there is still no electricity. But it was only the temporary darkness of the night that comes to the people, not their hearts. The people are still filled of light and hope. They know they can stand up again…

      Let us continue praying for those who have been affected by the typhoon especially to those who are in Leyte. We pray for the souls of the dead and for the strength of those they had left behind. Death is really a part of life, hence while we are still alive, we should make the most out of it. Our mission continues. Let us bring hope. Let us help others ‘pick up the pieces.’

My Papa, my Greatest Glory

     In my father’s some moments of depression and then enlightenment too, before he died, I could still recall how he disclosed some of his regrets and frustrations. In my young mind that time, I was able to catch insights which have never left me since then. He shared about how tired he was of being angry with others often and if he would do it again, he will practice more of forgiveness. He spoke about how death could come as a challenge but at the same time opportunity to express love. In my heart, I know it was his deep way of telling me that the most fulfilling life is that of a life lived in showing kindness and love to others, regardless of such kindness and love being returned to you or not. And then I heard him said those words that stayed not just in the surface of my being but even to the core of my soul--- he called me his greatest glory. 

       That was him. When he seemed to lose all the raptures of living, he would only thought about us and he is back to life. All things would suddenly become bearable for him. I miss him and I remember him everyday even its not November 1 or 2, or his birthday, or my birthday which he would really celebrate with all he could ever give, or his death anniversary. I remember him not because of my nickname which is very far from my real name or because he used to bring me to and fetch me from school and carry me when I’m already complaining of walking. I miss him and I remember him in every way I know about him, had felt because of him and has been now because of him. 

       And when flowers, candles, food and prayers are offered today for all the departed souls like his ever-living-soul, I am offering my life and how I am living it and will live it in kindness, forgiveness and love for and with my papa, my greatest glory too…

To Love and to Research

   Love has to be interpreted or else it means nothing. But how do we interpret is not only coming from the person who tried to think and would got next-to-crazy thinking and recalling each feeling and experience that had happened. It is also how the other led the one who interprets to think and feel that way. Even if we think we don’t know how to love or we think that the only thing we could relate is about us loving ourselves, isn't it that the self has to love you back still for you to totally experience love? Love is more than a word. It is a question but an answer too. It is a relationship.

   Research is more than a word too. We could have so many questions or start questioning everything and start becoming uncomfortable because of so many changes, or inconsistencies, or conflicting ideas revealing before us. But what would that mean if at the end we gain domination and control but still not understand and appreciate nature? What would materialistic naturalism mean if at the end we were not able to participate actively to the process towards transcendence and fulfillment?

  Phenomenology is about being artistic and scientific at the same time. It is a relationship between knowledge and wisdom for us to live well with our self and with others. It is being authentically concern to those who unloaded their stories and not just being concern for their words and then our titles. And it is only in the moment that we start interpreting not just using sensory empiricism and logical rationalism but even with the use of our intuitive discernment that we can make transformation takes place. It would create much difference the moment we communicate not only with the telephone but even through telepathy. This type of research is like profoundly experiencing what love is--- for it is about becoming more sensitive and creative. It is going beyond senses and reasons, just like love.

Monkayo, Compostela Valley

Summer 2013 Reflections

A Reflection Paper on Sociology of Communication 

   Back to my earlier education and formations, I had been, just like most of us, bombarded with so many answers to so many questions. Upon knowing these and that, we would feel so smart. But when we go to the community and when we are being faced with complicated true-to-life circumstances, we would hear others asking us questions we’ve never heard before, and even arrive at the crossroads of our lives that we began asking ourselves confusing questions and we don’t know how to respond. From there we found ourselves searching for meaning. 

  Sociology is also being viewed as a study of relationship among systems and entities in our society. Communication is relationship too. The best graphics are created not by the mind alone but with the heart. The graphics have emotions on them. 

  Sociology of Communication is made up of images created by the mind as influenced by the heart’s emotions. According to Fr. Francis Lucas, old books would traditionally define it to be process of using signs and symbols. Sign indicates something else. It points to a particular concept or idea but it is not the thing itself. Meanwhile, symbol has meaning of its self. Sound is a sign. The notes and g-clef are symbols. However, what would be the most appropriate word is “image.” Image implies something bigger and deeper. It goes beyond signs and symbols. It involves even feelings and imagination. 

  Social Communication is anything we say. Mass media refers to instruments, means, technologies and programs as diffusion channels of communication. It is the amplification of bits and pieces of reality. 

   Academics are just part and parcel of what we are doing in action. We study communication and when we really start immersing ourselves into it, we found ourselves realizing that everything is communication. Sociology of Communication is conveying the reality of life. We had been given by the academe so many technical ways of defining communication but basically communication is sharing. We are senders and receivers at the same time. This is not about information alone. The power is actually experienced from having the right information in the right time for the right purpose. 

    One of the things that struck me was the discussion about self-talk. It is the inner speech that includes the questions and comments we made to ourselves. It is a powerful influence that we can use in thinking things through, in interpreting events and messages of others, and in responding to experience. 

    In studying about communication, it is important and life-changing to include the concept of self-talk. Positive self-talk increases focus, concentration and performance. When you stay encouraged and positive, your body will feel good. But if you believe you cannot do something, your brain will tell your body and it will shut down. 

     In communicating, knowing the factor of double image is also important. It depends on where our focus is. It is part of our perception. The angle that we see depends on where we are coming from. In media, it is known as the spin. Perception process is the process we use to assign meaning to data about ourselves and the world around us. Our perception is actually influenced by intensity, repetition, uniqueness, and relevance which are affected by interest, needs and motivations. 

    Mass media controls the mind and the heart. It can be very effective teacher and preacher. It has massive reach, deep impact and can attack the psyche. It can easily change the social behavior. In the negative side of it, it can be a very effective ‘rapist.’ It can corrupt the mind. It can promote negative values. Our mirror neurons can lead us to imitate and to be engaged in the feelings and actions of what we are watching. The web and the internet expert can use our mirror neurons to lead us to the way where they would want us to go. 

    But what is the key to any communication media is its soul. Man’s disposition should be expressed. For the soul to be committed to something, for it not to be empty and be rattled easily, it should have its purpose. What do we communicate? What do we give to the society? The global trends now are modern slavery, destruction of the natural resources and biodiversity, cancerous growth of urban centers of power and prestige and disintegration of families and community. It is a generation without parents, the third wave generation of digital age but a world with losing of much spiritual values. Inequity and disunity enhance moral crisis. It is the bankruptcy of morality that creates so much violence, pain and death. It happens when people start to misunderstand, and resort to war and conflict and turned lives into nothing but just collateral damage. It’s about time that we communicate for the purpose of building faith communities, authentic relationship, sustainable development and collective successes. 

    The world today has become richer than any other time. But we have so many poor compared to any other period of our history too. It seemed that we live in a world of contradiction. What do we say about poverty? We call it a state, and we try to compute it, but our problem is that we just define poverty and not really feel it. Have we asked how the poor feel, and really see them and understand them? Social communication is going beyond defining what’s going on with our society. It is not just making reports, statistics, and action plan. Social Participation is empowering the people how to decide and not just giving choices. On a personal level, I should get more into the habit of analyzing not only what to decide but how to decide. We should look at the reality and listen and feel the situation of others so that it will penetrate in our hearts too and make our communication a part of the solution to the problems of the world.

Communication for Development Summer Class 2013
Asian Social Institute

Excerpt from "How He Marked My Life"

It took me several weeks of feeling empty and lonely before I realized that I had mistaken the attention given of the new soul to being loved. I thought I had been a resilient person;that I was able to process every good and negative thing that had happened to me and so it will not hamper my present and my future anymore. I thought I had been reflecting enough so how could I fall on the same trap and have same wounds again--- though this is not exactly the same wounds because this time it is deeper.

I was wrong to think that there was magic between us. The world did not conspire and it will never be because the new soul is unwilling to act upon solutions. The new soul has only been contented going through the darkness, recognizing the confusion and attempting to express it vaguely and then confused another soul. And then the other soul went through the same darkness, confusion and expression--- as she is unconsciously in need of something that had never been completely processed.The other soul had thought she had only been a listener and just being authentic but in the profounder sense it is more of giving in to her vulnerabilities. It was that sense of seeking and then sense of being needed that draw the souls towards each other but instead of finding meaning and enlightenment, the souls ended up being lost.

It took much time, a good book from Miller, a travel, and a lot of in-depth conversations and reflections for a person like me who was appearing empty and lonely too and who had filled in an unspoken need just to realize that I was already falling in to a form of an enabling-dependent relationship. At the beginning, it felt so good and the grasp of the new kind of could- be- happiness is making the id produce the concept that the feeling is right. But the new soul’s less concern to the effect it had made to the other soul---to my soul--- is simply killing the other and even the realization is causing devastating effects that is aching to the chest, hurting to the ego and dimming to the pathway. And there is no other way now but to trust in the self that it will be stronger and that it will be alright soon; for I know that I have to honestly go through this process if I want true liberation and learning.

A Love Story

This is a love story, my own love story and I am writing this on a very significant day of my life. Today, June 21, 2012 marks exactly a year after I took the board exam for social workers. Thus, writing this account came in a perfect timing. This is truly a good venue for me to reflect what had transpired after a year.  This is also a good venue to look back on the experiences acquired and lessons learned in the past years that had made me appreciate more the profession I had chosen: social work. 

I am Richelle H. Verdeprado. I was born on January 20, 1991 in Bacolod City, Negros Occidental.  I came from a poor family and both of my parents did not finished schooling. We could not even afford to buy our basic needs. There are so many things and experiences that were denied to me and to us. But the reasons that made me feel powerless are the same reasons that made me feel capable enough. Those reasons inspired me to exert more efforts and to value whatever I have within my reach. I could not just worry about myself but also for my family. I became aware that sometimes my mother cannot stay with us for weeks because she has to work as a farmer in the distant mountains; that there would really be tough times when my father cannot bring home even a single peso and that empty pots and plates were true. So that was what poverty means- no new clothes, no allowance, and no electricity. Yet going to school penniless or studying for tomorrow’s examination under the street posts outside the convenience of our house (because we failed to pay the bill) were not reason to take the wrong road. I know that my situation was not the worst on Earth. The saddest day of my life came when I was fifteen years old. My father died. I was filled with fears and regrets. The future even turned more unclear. But I have to move on.

With my cousin, older sister and my mother

My future becomes uncertain because even though my schooling was fine, a scholarship would still not guarantee an easy college life for me. While most of my classmates were full of dreams and plans, there was I, unsure of everything. What course will I take up? Who will finance for me? Then, it was time for Him to work out His plans. I remembered praying that night nine days after my graduation. I could not find for exact words to say because in the first place, I don’t know what I’m exactly asking for. That was my last night home for God will be opening a new door for me and things will never be the same again. I was helped by the Calvary Chapel Children’s Home, an NGO in Bacolod City with a residential home catering to more than 150 children with various needs and coming from different backgrounds. It was in there that I had that there is a course known as social work. I stayed there for almost seven months. Then, during the second semester until I graduated in college I stayed with the Tertiary Capuchin Sisters of the Holy Family Home. The nuns were also mostly social workers.

In my college graduation speech, I remember saying, “In my life, I have experienced staying in several houses, asking the help of so many people for a shelter, before finding a true home with the sisters. If I stopped along the way, just because somebody discouraged or misjudged me or just because all I had was three pesos in my pocket or just because I did not have school shoes to wear, then I would have not given justice to the life that has been extended. Don’t give up and be easily shaken because there are so many more in life that are not yet revealed to you- things, events, people and feelings you will only attain, experience, meet and feel if and only if, you will survive what you are handling now…”

I felt a need to look back on few memories of my still young life before I’ll be able to reflect on my social work experience now because I think such will inspire me more and convince me that events in my life is really leading me to become a social worker. I remember during our graduation a line I heard which may not be written this way but spoke of a similar message. It says, “embrace your profession, the profession you have worked hard for several years, the profession you have fought for and will live for, the profession you will you die for.” Such words were so strong, so powerful and so passionate: just like love. This leads me into a realization.  The moment we began to feel that we wanted to spend our time and our talents in knowing more about our profession and in acquiring skills so that we know how to practice it better, we do so not because we have to but because we have already fallen in love with it. Our profession becomes our vocation. It is not just like love anymore, it is already love. It is love in its truest form.

The instrument that social workers used a lot are our own selves and so we must be aware of who we are and what process we are going through so that we will be able to help more our clients.  When I started working in Coalition Against Trafficking in Women-Asia Pacific, I was remembering the passion of my fellow youth especially young women in pursuing their limitless dreams. I was remembering the vast number of the youth especially those coming from the poor provinces that are pushed to take the risks of leaving their hometowns in search for a better future for themselves and their family. Until now, I am remembering how the dire economic situation of our country obliged them to start working young or to give up their schooling. I am remembering how many of them were deceived by traffickers who take advantage of their vulnerability--- how many of them find themselves trapped into modern forms of human slavery, of forced labor, of debt bondage, of prostitution.

I am also remembering how the systems of patriarchy, of the concepts that men should use women, of inequality and commoditization of women’s body have continuously victimized us and made us more exposed to trafficking and all forms of exploitation that goes with it. Those systems are huge and have penetrated our lives for so long. Those systems are our enemies and so we must battle against them if we want to win our fight against trafficking. I had fallen in love in pursuing our advocacy, but just like many other love stories, it was not also a swift journey. My love too, has been put into so many tests and challenges.

Every person has an inherent power that may be characterized as life force, transformational capacity, life, energy, spirituality, regenerative potential and healing power.  The act of empowering re-awakens or stimulates someone’s own natural power.   This is one of the essential assumptions in the strength perspective in social work. It is also from that perspective in which I had seen myself as a young social work practitioner. In the process of empowering others, that is waking up their dreams, inspiring them to pursue such dreams and to decide to work hard for those dreams, my own power is also being stimulated. My dreams are also awaken, my energy also being stirred. Such power is sustained because it does not come from me personally. It is sustained because it comes from God. Social work is responding to God’s invitation to be a light to others. It is a power that gives and heals because it comes from God who gives and heals. Thanks be to God for a very fruitful first year as a practitioner! I know He will continue to be there in the years to come as I continue to journey in this vocation I had fallen in love with. I know this love is meant to endure and triumph.