A few days ago, i saw another classic example that will inspire me to keep on looking for the good in every person i met. Yes, someone sent me a powerpoint presentation of how the earthquake in China have devastated a lot of properties amounting to billions in infrastructure and material equipments.
The dead and wounded abound and caused a lot of grief. But that terrible disaster, as huge as its damages, did not manage to devastate the goodness of the Chinese people. While reading and seeing through the pictures my tears begun to drop so that i chose not finish the whole presentation for fear of having my new officemates see me cry. However, I did see enough to say that people can always choose to be good despite and maybe because of disaster.
A lot of things where scattered around the affected areas, and yet, as reported, there were no incidents of looting. The Chinese people chose to be kind and helpful during the times when they themselves need help. Volunteers run to the affected areas and blood donations flooded without much prodding.
Stories of this sort strengthened my resolve to view all people as innately good. Thus considering them trustworthy first and foremost--unless to they will prove to be otherwise--is still the best i can do.
Yeah, evil abound in the world, and i will get hurt and wounded most often than not... but i'd rather get hurt knowing that in my dealings with people i have come to them with a pure heart... no preconceived notions and biases... and no hidden agendas.
This way i am sure that everyone started on equal footing, regardless of appearances. If somebody chooses to hurt me whether maliciously or out of circumstance, then so be it. After all, i always believe that justice will be served... in whichever way that we most need to learn.
Cliche as it sound but i'd rather err on the side of compassion and enjoy the company of people than keep myself safe inside the walls of mistrust that will shield me from experiencing deeply the goodness of others.
With me, people always start on the notion that they are dignified and trustworthy beings. In my book love should always be free flowing, like the coffee and water that we included in the menu package for our training next week.
GoldenSeeker
Friday, May 30, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Friendster!
Kalain nimo oy.
Imong gdelete ang akong friendster.
Wala man kay clear.
Wala man unta ko nakasala.
Pero nganong ikaw ingon ana.
Ay ambot, mavuang ko bayot!
Imong gdelete ang akong friendster.
Wala man kay clear.
Wala man unta ko nakasala.
Pero nganong ikaw ingon ana.
Ay ambot, mavuang ko bayot!
Pray--er
I never am a religious type of person. I don't go to church regularly. I pray yes, usually everyday. But praying with other people, that's something i really am not good at. I
I can still remember when i was still a child... around 8 or 9 years old. I used to pray before going to bed. I pray in front of our altar, kneeling down. One time, i went home late after watching a variety show during one of our fiesta-related nightly entertainment. So after closing the door, i readily do my usual prayer ritual in front of the altar. I kneel down and utter a silent prayer. Halfway through my prayers, i heard my sister say laughingly, "hey what are you doing there?" I don't understand, but right that moment i felt my hair stand and my blood rushed to my face because of embarrasment. Because the lampara then only gives a very dim light, i failed to see my sister who is sleeping right below the altar. Ever since that night, i never am really comfortable making the sign of the cross in public.
That incident was further reenforced, not so long after that incident, when i came across a Bible passage talking about praying in the silence of one's own room and shying away from being like those hypocrites who prays inside synagogues so that others may appreciate what they do.
Since then i always prefer to have my prayers at the privacy of my thoughts. It even went to the extreme of me feeling ashamed if somebody sees me make the sign of the cross inside the church. Quite sick right? We'll I really can't help if the hairs on my nape and arms would stand everytime i felt someone looking at me while i made the sign of the cross. I always reacted that way, until one time i have consciously return to that one night incident via a simple chitchat with a teacher friend.
Slowly, after that chat i again started to feel normally when doing my sign of the cross in public. However, even after the conscious realization of the cause of that not so normal reaction, i always shied away from leading a prayer. No one really can forced me to lead even a simple prayer of thanksgiving before eating. Even in the classroom, i can always find reason not to lead the prayer before the class started. I do pray, but never aloud.
But things happen. Without us even realizing it, the right time and moment will come and you are forced to face your fears. I never thought the day would come that i would lead a prayer with other people in attendance. And what a time it is. My first prayer was made with a corporate CEO.
We'll, God really knows how to give you a nice moment. Making sure that your first try--after a long time--of uttering His name in public will surely be well attended.
I can still remember when i was still a child... around 8 or 9 years old. I used to pray before going to bed. I pray in front of our altar, kneeling down. One time, i went home late after watching a variety show during one of our fiesta-related nightly entertainment. So after closing the door, i readily do my usual prayer ritual in front of the altar. I kneel down and utter a silent prayer. Halfway through my prayers, i heard my sister say laughingly, "hey what are you doing there?" I don't understand, but right that moment i felt my hair stand and my blood rushed to my face because of embarrasment. Because the lampara then only gives a very dim light, i failed to see my sister who is sleeping right below the altar. Ever since that night, i never am really comfortable making the sign of the cross in public.
That incident was further reenforced, not so long after that incident, when i came across a Bible passage talking about praying in the silence of one's own room and shying away from being like those hypocrites who prays inside synagogues so that others may appreciate what they do.
Since then i always prefer to have my prayers at the privacy of my thoughts. It even went to the extreme of me feeling ashamed if somebody sees me make the sign of the cross inside the church. Quite sick right? We'll I really can't help if the hairs on my nape and arms would stand everytime i felt someone looking at me while i made the sign of the cross. I always reacted that way, until one time i have consciously return to that one night incident via a simple chitchat with a teacher friend.
Slowly, after that chat i again started to feel normally when doing my sign of the cross in public. However, even after the conscious realization of the cause of that not so normal reaction, i always shied away from leading a prayer. No one really can forced me to lead even a simple prayer of thanksgiving before eating. Even in the classroom, i can always find reason not to lead the prayer before the class started. I do pray, but never aloud.
But things happen. Without us even realizing it, the right time and moment will come and you are forced to face your fears. I never thought the day would come that i would lead a prayer with other people in attendance. And what a time it is. My first prayer was made with a corporate CEO.
We'll, God really knows how to give you a nice moment. Making sure that your first try--after a long time--of uttering His name in public will surely be well attended.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Ahhhhh People.
Right now i dont know what to think.
A lot of things are running into my head and my chest felt like bursting, like somethings been inside it that just needed to be aired out. The problem is my thoughts are in jumble.
Once a teacher had said to me that "people are just people, behaving in a manner they are made to behave." But who and what made us behave like we do? Isn't it us that have the exlusive responsibility of our actions? So why blame it on someone or something?
And why do people behave the way they do?
I always believe in the goodness of every human being. As a rule, people are good unless they've proven otherwise. I also remembered a friend cautions me into readily trusting people. For him, people are bad and cannot be trusted unless they have proven to him their trustworthiness.
A huge contradiction, eh?
But that's how people are. Some are so trusting that they are usually being just taken for a ride by the malicious few who just feels right into taking advantage of thier trusting nature. But this kind of people though frequently hurt, have a lot more chance at becoming happy with a lot of people than those who shelter themselves from others.
But who am i to be judge and jury of how other people conduct their life. If they choose to be weary of strangers and be safe then it's really up to them. Their happiness depends on doing what they think is right and what is comfortable for them and not on my over simplistic if a bit idealistic views.
In the same way, i will continue to believe that people are innately good. If some will not come as noble as i think, then i will be hurt, yes. But at least, i have let other people start with all the trust and respect that is due to every human being.
A lot of things are running into my head and my chest felt like bursting, like somethings been inside it that just needed to be aired out. The problem is my thoughts are in jumble.
Once a teacher had said to me that "people are just people, behaving in a manner they are made to behave." But who and what made us behave like we do? Isn't it us that have the exlusive responsibility of our actions? So why blame it on someone or something?
And why do people behave the way they do?
I always believe in the goodness of every human being. As a rule, people are good unless they've proven otherwise. I also remembered a friend cautions me into readily trusting people. For him, people are bad and cannot be trusted unless they have proven to him their trustworthiness.
A huge contradiction, eh?
But that's how people are. Some are so trusting that they are usually being just taken for a ride by the malicious few who just feels right into taking advantage of thier trusting nature. But this kind of people though frequently hurt, have a lot more chance at becoming happy with a lot of people than those who shelter themselves from others.
But who am i to be judge and jury of how other people conduct their life. If they choose to be weary of strangers and be safe then it's really up to them. Their happiness depends on doing what they think is right and what is comfortable for them and not on my over simplistic if a bit idealistic views.
In the same way, i will continue to believe that people are innately good. If some will not come as noble as i think, then i will be hurt, yes. But at least, i have let other people start with all the trust and respect that is due to every human being.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Music and My World
The world without music
Is one boring classic
That tells not a story
But a shadow of inactivity
The world without music
Is a soul left by the spirit
For music is the breath
That gives life on earth.
Poetry writing in Humanities Class
USJR
Is one boring classic
That tells not a story
But a shadow of inactivity
The world without music
Is a soul left by the spirit
For music is the breath
That gives life on earth.
Poetry writing in Humanities Class
USJR
Freedom
Freedom is not to do and say
What you always want to be
It is not a right you ought to exercise
But responsibility in disguise
For true freedom can be achieve only
When one has done his duty.
Who’s the most free?
Are those people…
Who thought they’re free
‘Coz they can do everything
The way they want it to be?
Who does things their way
With utmost disregard of human dignity
Just to satisfy their rights to be free?
Don’t think this is so…
Since freedom is meant only
To do things ‘cause its your responsibility
And never because you are free
And he is most free
Who can do anything
To the best of his ability
English Class Poetry Writing
Theme: FREEDOM
PNHS 94
What you always want to be
It is not a right you ought to exercise
But responsibility in disguise
For true freedom can be achieve only
When one has done his duty.
Who’s the most free?
Are those people…
Who thought they’re free
‘Coz they can do everything
The way they want it to be?
Who does things their way
With utmost disregard of human dignity
Just to satisfy their rights to be free?
Don’t think this is so…
Since freedom is meant only
To do things ‘cause its your responsibility
And never because you are free
And he is most free
Who can do anything
To the best of his ability
English Class Poetry Writing
Theme: FREEDOM
PNHS 94
Life's Crossroads
Looking back and reevaluating my life, I must say that I am most fortunate. I felt blessed and protected.
No. Not materially. I have always been poor on the material side of things. As early as six years old, I had already learned to value labor and its rewards.
I know. The money my mother used to buy my first school uniform when I was to enter grade 1 was taken from the savings I had out of gathering rocks for the construction of our rich neighbors’ houses.
Yeah, I fetched rocks for a fee, together with my brother and some cousins. But don’t get me wrong. My parents did not force us into child labor. They are very good. In fact the best as far as I’m concerned; for despite our financial struggles, they raised us well.
School was easy. I never needed to cheat to earn myself good grades. Back then I was more concerned with learning than with grades. Also I have learned during the second grade how unreliable grades are as an indicator of student intelligence and learning. I knew then because a lot of people in my class cheated during exams all the time.
I first decided to become a teacher when I was in grade 1. That was when my teacher hit me in the face with my flashcards for some unjustified reason. She hit me because I didn’t put the cards inside my envelope and said she didn’t want clutter on our desks. But since those cards where neatly tucked in under my envelope, I didn’t see why she needed to do what she had done to me. She could have told me first as a sort of warning. And I said so as much. Not to her, but to my father who became the sole audience of my righteous, if childish indignation.
With that I had made up my mind to become a teacher, and definitely a teacher not like her. For as long as I can remember, I have always had high regard for the teaching profession. But that experienced with my grade 1 teacher had also made me very critical of teachers behavior, competency, etc. I know now that sometimes I overreact. I have had a couple of teachers in the past both in high school and college who received my sweet, double-edged love letters. But sometimes, I just can’t help it. Someone should never tread on other people’s dream so callously and cold-heartedly without somehow expecting to get burned.
Well, much had happened since then. I have experienced both the joys and pains of living—though I’m sure not all of it yet—and struggled to find some meaning for my existence. I have felt intense emotions toward some things and react apathetically towards others.
Crisis? I don’t know what it is—apart from what economists say.
Yes, there were pains. Even heart-wrenching pain that seems like tearing your soul apart; the kind that somehow made you feel that no matter how hard you cried it doesn’t seem to go away. But of course it did.
There were also choices. But then they were just that.
Choices.
It never reached to some critical proportion. And although there were a lot of times when it seem to make a poor choice of things, I couldn’t find enough reason to regret it however.
Poor choice or not, I know everything that I have experienced were crucial and essential to my becoming. Even those I did not consciously choose.
I don’t believe in coincidences.
Everything happens for a reason.
I know it. I read about it. I experienced it.
No. Not materially. I have always been poor on the material side of things. As early as six years old, I had already learned to value labor and its rewards.
I know. The money my mother used to buy my first school uniform when I was to enter grade 1 was taken from the savings I had out of gathering rocks for the construction of our rich neighbors’ houses.
Yeah, I fetched rocks for a fee, together with my brother and some cousins. But don’t get me wrong. My parents did not force us into child labor. They are very good. In fact the best as far as I’m concerned; for despite our financial struggles, they raised us well.
School was easy. I never needed to cheat to earn myself good grades. Back then I was more concerned with learning than with grades. Also I have learned during the second grade how unreliable grades are as an indicator of student intelligence and learning. I knew then because a lot of people in my class cheated during exams all the time.
I first decided to become a teacher when I was in grade 1. That was when my teacher hit me in the face with my flashcards for some unjustified reason. She hit me because I didn’t put the cards inside my envelope and said she didn’t want clutter on our desks. But since those cards where neatly tucked in under my envelope, I didn’t see why she needed to do what she had done to me. She could have told me first as a sort of warning. And I said so as much. Not to her, but to my father who became the sole audience of my righteous, if childish indignation.
With that I had made up my mind to become a teacher, and definitely a teacher not like her. For as long as I can remember, I have always had high regard for the teaching profession. But that experienced with my grade 1 teacher had also made me very critical of teachers behavior, competency, etc. I know now that sometimes I overreact. I have had a couple of teachers in the past both in high school and college who received my sweet, double-edged love letters. But sometimes, I just can’t help it. Someone should never tread on other people’s dream so callously and cold-heartedly without somehow expecting to get burned.
Well, much had happened since then. I have experienced both the joys and pains of living—though I’m sure not all of it yet—and struggled to find some meaning for my existence. I have felt intense emotions toward some things and react apathetically towards others.
Crisis? I don’t know what it is—apart from what economists say.
Yes, there were pains. Even heart-wrenching pain that seems like tearing your soul apart; the kind that somehow made you feel that no matter how hard you cried it doesn’t seem to go away. But of course it did.
There were also choices. But then they were just that.
Choices.
It never reached to some critical proportion. And although there were a lot of times when it seem to make a poor choice of things, I couldn’t find enough reason to regret it however.
Poor choice or not, I know everything that I have experienced were crucial and essential to my becoming. Even those I did not consciously choose.
I don’t believe in coincidences.
Everything happens for a reason.
I know it. I read about it. I experienced it.
Boredom
Bored.
That's how my life is right now and maybe for at least a few more days... Hahay. Life really delivers. You ask for work, it gives you work like there's no tomorrow. As in work that goes in on your mind even while you're asleep. And when you scream "Stop, oh please, stop. I can't take it anymore." It handed you paid siesta. And when again you look for real work since you are used to working like the proverbial oxen.
Guess what life have given me?
A sore eyes. If that doesn't beat it all, I don't know what else.
So now we're back to my being bored.
Having a sore eyes really makes life really boring. I can't go out on job interviews, can't work on my vb lessons, can't have a movie marathon, and I can't even read my favorite mushy novels.
Oh life. But then i guess, this is life saying "Hey ma'am, just take a breather for a couple more weeks. Before you know it, you'll again be neck deep with work."
So now i guess, i just have to ride with my boredom and come out of it hopefully energized for another adventure.
That's how my life is right now and maybe for at least a few more days... Hahay. Life really delivers. You ask for work, it gives you work like there's no tomorrow. As in work that goes in on your mind even while you're asleep. And when you scream "Stop, oh please, stop. I can't take it anymore." It handed you paid siesta. And when again you look for real work since you are used to working like the proverbial oxen.
Guess what life have given me?
A sore eyes. If that doesn't beat it all, I don't know what else.
So now we're back to my being bored.
Having a sore eyes really makes life really boring. I can't go out on job interviews, can't work on my vb lessons, can't have a movie marathon, and I can't even read my favorite mushy novels.
Oh life. But then i guess, this is life saying "Hey ma'am, just take a breather for a couple more weeks. Before you know it, you'll again be neck deep with work."
So now i guess, i just have to ride with my boredom and come out of it hopefully energized for another adventure.
Unrestrained Thoughts
The compiled words below are part of my journal entries in my Educational Guidance subject.
--gold
Religion as a Form of Guidance: November 30, 2003
The declaration of Ramadan as a national holiday (2003) by Pres Gloria Macapagal Arroyo illustrates, in some respect how religion have become a form of guidance for the president. Although she herself is not a Muslim, her knowledge of the importance of this celebration to Muslim Filipinos is enough to make her declare a holiday—thus showing not only respect but also reverence by giving Muslims a chance to exercise their faith. As a president of a country that is somehow divided by religious orientations—with the Muslim playing as the disadvantage minority on the one hand and the Christians as the favored majority on the other hand, acknowledging the importance of the Muslim religious tradition is a brilliant move to reach out to them.
On a more cynical view, however, I must say that the move is more politically motivated, that is to gain the needed support of the Muslim community not for any religious harmony’s sake but for a longer political life.
Going back to the idea of religion as a form of guidance, I really do not see religion as such. Faith guides, religion indoctrinates and faith is not equal to religion. Through and through it is indoctrination and nothing else. Who, better than us Filipinos should have known this?
Religion was used by the Spanish conquistadores as a tool to exploit us and our resources. With it they incite fear and guilt in the ignorant minds of our forebears. They had used religion to manipulate us. They even incorporated our own pagan practices just to attract more followers. Back then we are Indios who didn’t know any better than to hear and follow what they say.
We are not allowed to think.
To reason for ourselves.
To grasp the truth of a Supreme Being as we experienced it.
They told us what to believe and forbid us to ask questions. For Indios like us questioning is heresy. We are treated as an Indio, acted like one and for many years after that, the collective psyche of the Filipinos remains that of an Indio. Everything that come from the West are better—even their very mistakes and social malaise look better compared to our feeble ones.
Taking anything foreign as better than our own is no mere colonial mentality. It is ingrained in our innermost being, our spiritual psyche. Our inferiority as a people does not stem from our race. It comes form our religion.
--gold
Religion as a Form of Guidance: November 30, 2003
The declaration of Ramadan as a national holiday (2003) by Pres Gloria Macapagal Arroyo illustrates, in some respect how religion have become a form of guidance for the president. Although she herself is not a Muslim, her knowledge of the importance of this celebration to Muslim Filipinos is enough to make her declare a holiday—thus showing not only respect but also reverence by giving Muslims a chance to exercise their faith. As a president of a country that is somehow divided by religious orientations—with the Muslim playing as the disadvantage minority on the one hand and the Christians as the favored majority on the other hand, acknowledging the importance of the Muslim religious tradition is a brilliant move to reach out to them.
On a more cynical view, however, I must say that the move is more politically motivated, that is to gain the needed support of the Muslim community not for any religious harmony’s sake but for a longer political life.
Going back to the idea of religion as a form of guidance, I really do not see religion as such. Faith guides, religion indoctrinates and faith is not equal to religion. Through and through it is indoctrination and nothing else. Who, better than us Filipinos should have known this?
Religion was used by the Spanish conquistadores as a tool to exploit us and our resources. With it they incite fear and guilt in the ignorant minds of our forebears. They had used religion to manipulate us. They even incorporated our own pagan practices just to attract more followers. Back then we are Indios who didn’t know any better than to hear and follow what they say.
We are not allowed to think.
To reason for ourselves.
To grasp the truth of a Supreme Being as we experienced it.
They told us what to believe and forbid us to ask questions. For Indios like us questioning is heresy. We are treated as an Indio, acted like one and for many years after that, the collective psyche of the Filipinos remains that of an Indio. Everything that come from the West are better—even their very mistakes and social malaise look better compared to our feeble ones.
Taking anything foreign as better than our own is no mere colonial mentality. It is ingrained in our innermost being, our spiritual psyche. Our inferiority as a people does not stem from our race. It comes form our religion.
Prejudice
Prejudice is like seeing a dice,
You look at one side
And then you decide
That the back is as black
As the one you look at.
USJR ‘94
…while waiting for my next class
in the classroom next door
You look at one side
And then you decide
That the back is as black
As the one you look at.
USJR ‘94
…while waiting for my next class
in the classroom next door
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Friends
To say that true friends are the best treasure we will find in this life is an understatement.
Without discounting of course, immediate family members, friends have been an important source of strength and inspiration. Friends will be there when you most needed them even if sometimes you think otherwise. They offer you a sense of balance and perspective. They will cry when you cry and rejoice in your moments of triumph.
In my life i have met and found friends of the rarest kind. A gem i can treasure forever. Oh no not a gem--but gems, for there were not just a handful. They are those who have stuck with me all through these years.
Friends who by now have seen me shed buckets of tears. Friends who have offered me comfort and solace during those trying times and friends who have been there to cheer me up and pushed me forward to go for the ---gold?. No... not gold, but go for what i always fought for---doing what i think is right.
But not only that, there have also been friends who humbly share with me their pains and worries. Friends who felt comfortable crying on my shoulder. More than anything, these gems have made my life more meaningful and fruitful. They have shown to be the best kind of trust. A humbling and inspiring experience.
There are also friends who pushed you to your limits. They sometimes hurt you but really they meant well. These people serves as your stricter guide. They keep you on edge. Make you watch your steps. And if you allow them to, make you an even more better person.
So to all my friends out there... Thanks!
Without discounting of course, immediate family members, friends have been an important source of strength and inspiration. Friends will be there when you most needed them even if sometimes you think otherwise. They offer you a sense of balance and perspective. They will cry when you cry and rejoice in your moments of triumph.
In my life i have met and found friends of the rarest kind. A gem i can treasure forever. Oh no not a gem--but gems, for there were not just a handful. They are those who have stuck with me all through these years.
Friends who by now have seen me shed buckets of tears. Friends who have offered me comfort and solace during those trying times and friends who have been there to cheer me up and pushed me forward to go for the ---gold?. No... not gold, but go for what i always fought for---doing what i think is right.
But not only that, there have also been friends who humbly share with me their pains and worries. Friends who felt comfortable crying on my shoulder. More than anything, these gems have made my life more meaningful and fruitful. They have shown to be the best kind of trust. A humbling and inspiring experience.
There are also friends who pushed you to your limits. They sometimes hurt you but really they meant well. These people serves as your stricter guide. They keep you on edge. Make you watch your steps. And if you allow them to, make you an even more better person.
So to all my friends out there... Thanks!
Luvs
I know you wouldn't have a chance of reading this but then if you have... i know... maybe you'll never really understand.
But i do love you.
No matter how remote the chance of us being together, im still clinging on to that drop of hope that somehow, someway... you'll love me back.
It doesn't matter that every chance you get you are pushing me away.
It doesn't matter that you're hurting me at every turn.
It doesn't matter that buckets of tears have been spent alone.
The love stays... for as long as it takes.
But i do love you.
No matter how remote the chance of us being together, im still clinging on to that drop of hope that somehow, someway... you'll love me back.
It doesn't matter that every chance you get you are pushing me away.
It doesn't matter that you're hurting me at every turn.
It doesn't matter that buckets of tears have been spent alone.
The love stays... for as long as it takes.
Belief
Belief, an idea in which people placed some or all of their confidence. A framework of thought that which directed individual action. Belief and its expression is as unique as the individual. And it cannot be copied. No matter where you get the initial information regarding what you believe in, the moment you embraced it and held it as true for you--it becomes uniquely yours.
The Devil
The devil is there.
It surrounds you. It hounds you.
If you give him an inch, it will take a mile.
Give him a toe, it gobbles you up whole.
The devil is there.
Beware.
It surrounds you. It hounds you.
If you give him an inch, it will take a mile.
Give him a toe, it gobbles you up whole.
The devil is there.
Beware.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
I Am What I Think I Am
Having been exposed to various kinds of psychological tests coupled with my constant conscious effort in the past to really know myself, I could say that I do know me pretty well. Pretty much so that, at this point I rarely experience feelings and behavioral responses that I could not explain. In the privacy of my own thoughts I can afford to see myself stripped of all my biases, rationalizations and other defense mechanisms that almost always appear to be harmless self-deceptions.
It is with these that the interpretations of my responses to that brief self-awareness exercise came as no surprise. The first three questions regarding favorite animals are basics—its what the animals signify to the person that chooses it rather than the commonly perceived characteristics of an animal that really tells about the individual. The last question—the one about the coffee—is what those in behavioral studies call a party ice-breaker; the sort of question that a person poses to friends just for laughs.
The second set of questions is different, however.
It had me thinking for days. I am particularly interested in the flower and the creek thing. Thing first because it highlighted change in my psyche and the second because I personally find its interpretation significantly debatable,
Starting off from a more impersonal subject, the creek, as what can be gleaned from the interpretations, somehow symbolizes friends or people surrounding the individual being tested. Those who imagined to touch the pristine waters are considered to have the tendency to be easily influenced by outside forces—suggesting a weakness in a person’s character. In all my readings and in some occasion that I found a creeks or any bodies of water, for that matter, in personality tests, it is always made to represent life. Even in prose and poetic metaphors, it is always used to convey the idea of life. Its waves represents life’s ups and downs and the way its water flows, whether peaceful, rapid, or raging, represents the condition and quality of one’s life. Taking this universally accepted abstraction of life as the basis in interpreting behavior and human tendencies, then the interpretation to the scene given would be as follows:
Those people who imagined themselves just admiring the pristine whiteness of the water ar the people who contend themselves to stand in the sidelines and have life pass them by. They are those people who are afraid to take risks, the one’s who avoid experiencing great pains at all cost and in so doing never know the depths of happiness. They enjoy life as long as they have minimal participation. They are for the most part OBSERVERS.
Those people who imagined themselves readily jumped into the water and swim around are in contrast RISK TAKERS. They are those people who are not afraid of the unknown. They are those who experiences great successes and tremendous failures. They take life as a never-ending challenge and oftentimes emerged victorious.
Those people who imagined themselves wade in at the shallow end of the waters are those that are either guided by PRUDENCE and CAUTION or hindered by it. They are those people who experience life in moderation as a general tendency
And for the most important part of the activity that hits me like a bullet—the interpretation of one’s behavioral response to the imaginary flower. During the activity, I had clearly visualized myself gently touching that mirror of nature’s beauty and splendor. Except maybe those who have allergic rhinitis, who can resist touching a beautiful, flower? To have it interpreted as a tendency to be materialistic had somehow brought conflicting emotions. Hearing the interpretations with its moralistic innuendoes, my initial reaction was from my highly hypocritical self screaming guilt. For a brief moment that morally rigid personal was asking me “What happen to the person who used to be grounded on the values of self-sacrifice; to the person who preferred the simple life of a dignified pauper.” Fortunately, the voice of reason finds it appropriate to assert herself asked, “Why, what’s wrong with wanting to live in material comfort?” As Og Mandino said in one of his books, “Poverty may be a privilege and even a way of life for the monk in the desert, for he has only himself to sustain and none but his God to please.”
There I realized that if the interpretation is correct and I’d like to think that it is, then I really did changed. Gone is the belief that the poorer you are, the closer you’ll be with God. The present me do aspire wealth and material comfort, but it does not mean that the self-sacrificing and dignified person is gone. She is still very much a part of me.
Only she has become more.
Now, she knows that life has so much to offer. She just needs to learn how to take it.
To be brave and courageous enough to partake in the abundance of life.
To have the strength and wisdom to shoulder the responsibilities of having much from life.
“Those who are much is given, more is also required.”
She knows that.
Psychological tests--standardized or otherwise--are designed in order for us or others if they wanted to, to help us reveal something about ourselves that most probably we normally ignore. The interpretations are believably accurate. However, at the end of the day, when you face yourself in the mirror it is still YOU who will define who and what you are. After all, when everything is said and done... WE are only WHAT we THINK we ARE.
It is with these that the interpretations of my responses to that brief self-awareness exercise came as no surprise. The first three questions regarding favorite animals are basics—its what the animals signify to the person that chooses it rather than the commonly perceived characteristics of an animal that really tells about the individual. The last question—the one about the coffee—is what those in behavioral studies call a party ice-breaker; the sort of question that a person poses to friends just for laughs.
The second set of questions is different, however.
It had me thinking for days. I am particularly interested in the flower and the creek thing. Thing first because it highlighted change in my psyche and the second because I personally find its interpretation significantly debatable,
Starting off from a more impersonal subject, the creek, as what can be gleaned from the interpretations, somehow symbolizes friends or people surrounding the individual being tested. Those who imagined to touch the pristine waters are considered to have the tendency to be easily influenced by outside forces—suggesting a weakness in a person’s character. In all my readings and in some occasion that I found a creeks or any bodies of water, for that matter, in personality tests, it is always made to represent life. Even in prose and poetic metaphors, it is always used to convey the idea of life. Its waves represents life’s ups and downs and the way its water flows, whether peaceful, rapid, or raging, represents the condition and quality of one’s life. Taking this universally accepted abstraction of life as the basis in interpreting behavior and human tendencies, then the interpretation to the scene given would be as follows:
Those people who imagined themselves just admiring the pristine whiteness of the water ar the people who contend themselves to stand in the sidelines and have life pass them by. They are those people who are afraid to take risks, the one’s who avoid experiencing great pains at all cost and in so doing never know the depths of happiness. They enjoy life as long as they have minimal participation. They are for the most part OBSERVERS.
Those people who imagined themselves readily jumped into the water and swim around are in contrast RISK TAKERS. They are those people who are not afraid of the unknown. They are those who experiences great successes and tremendous failures. They take life as a never-ending challenge and oftentimes emerged victorious.
Those people who imagined themselves wade in at the shallow end of the waters are those that are either guided by PRUDENCE and CAUTION or hindered by it. They are those people who experience life in moderation as a general tendency
And for the most important part of the activity that hits me like a bullet—the interpretation of one’s behavioral response to the imaginary flower. During the activity, I had clearly visualized myself gently touching that mirror of nature’s beauty and splendor. Except maybe those who have allergic rhinitis, who can resist touching a beautiful, flower? To have it interpreted as a tendency to be materialistic had somehow brought conflicting emotions. Hearing the interpretations with its moralistic innuendoes, my initial reaction was from my highly hypocritical self screaming guilt. For a brief moment that morally rigid personal was asking me “What happen to the person who used to be grounded on the values of self-sacrifice; to the person who preferred the simple life of a dignified pauper.” Fortunately, the voice of reason finds it appropriate to assert herself asked, “Why, what’s wrong with wanting to live in material comfort?” As Og Mandino said in one of his books, “Poverty may be a privilege and even a way of life for the monk in the desert, for he has only himself to sustain and none but his God to please.”
There I realized that if the interpretation is correct and I’d like to think that it is, then I really did changed. Gone is the belief that the poorer you are, the closer you’ll be with God. The present me do aspire wealth and material comfort, but it does not mean that the self-sacrificing and dignified person is gone. She is still very much a part of me.
Only she has become more.
Now, she knows that life has so much to offer. She just needs to learn how to take it.
To be brave and courageous enough to partake in the abundance of life.
To have the strength and wisdom to shoulder the responsibilities of having much from life.
“Those who are much is given, more is also required.”
She knows that.
Psychological tests--standardized or otherwise--are designed in order for us or others if they wanted to, to help us reveal something about ourselves that most probably we normally ignore. The interpretations are believably accurate. However, at the end of the day, when you face yourself in the mirror it is still YOU who will define who and what you are. After all, when everything is said and done... WE are only WHAT we THINK we ARE.
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