A Brief Autobiographical Sketch

 

 

When the new decade of 1980 rolled in, our family plans had already been firmed up, ready for execution.

The entire family had decided that our migration to the US, to unite with the rest of the family of the wife would go into full swing. And so as the new year commenced, everybody immersed themselves in the preparations for the long, arduous and historic trip away from the old homeland.  Away from the familiarities, expectations, and standards we had all been used to since birth.  Away from the security and comforts accorded by the old homeland.

Since the move had already been decided much earlier, there is then no need to delve into the whys and wherefores for the migration.  After a long and thorough thinking and weighing of all possible implications, it was the decision to migrate that finally came out.

The initial step taken would be securing our passports and visas for the trip.  And so photos were taken and the one above was precisely the one used in my initial passport.  It showed  a rather pensive guy, obviously burdened by the manifold ramifications of such a move. The attendant fears and insecurities  weighing  heavily on my shoulders as we embarked as a family of six, with 4 minor children with ages ranging from 11 to 6 years, in a long journey of thousands of miles

Like a well-prepared soldier, I looked neat, fit, and in the pink of health even though already past my 30's.  I had reasonably managed and controlled my prevailing physical health issues,  from my pared-down thyroids to the congenital heart condition that I had been carrying since childhood.  So here I was ready for the expected rigors, and this shared by the rest of the family.  Visits to the doctors and dentists already done early on.  Financial affairs marked and winded down to the last t.  Proper clothing for the changing environment noted and secured.  Etc.

And so after countless preparatory moves, the actual dates came into view with the trip being divided into 2 phases.  In June of the same year, the wife and the 2 elder children were first to go.  And they would then stay with my mother-in-law in San Francisco.  A few months later, I with the twins left behind would follow suit.  And as planned, by the end of August, the entire family was reunited, now in the cool environment of the famous city of San Francisco.

As expected, the initial months and years would be periods of great challenges, sacrifices,  and some frustration and regrets.  Many of our unresolved fears would come into fruition and my innate timidity would offer more obstacles to our eventual assimilation into the local community.  But we did all persist and were able to survive all the impediments thrown at us.

And this allowed us also to be creative in our approaches to the goals that we had wanted to attain.  For one we threw aside a number of perceived impediments that migrants like us were said to be subjected and thus would not be able to surmount easily or expeditiously.  And because of this, many in turn were amazed and surprised at the early achievements that we had garnered.  One big one was our ability to own our own house barely going 3 years into our stay there.  This ability opened a lot of doors for us to improve our economic and financial status.  As more doors for profitable investments were opened for us.  This in spite of having 4 minor kids to also care for.

To make a story short, that migration took a lifespan of  over a quarter of century before it was decided to relocate back to the old homeland.  And that we did, except all the kids and their new families are still there, all gathered together in the great state of California.

More Musings

 Way before his death, savant Carl Sagan wrote this eerie prediction.

“Science is more than a body of knowledge; it is a way of thinking. I have a foreboding of an America in my children's or grandchildren's time—when the United States is a service and information economy; when nearly all the key manufacturing industries have slipped away to other countries; when awesome technological powers are in the hands of a very few, and no one representing the public interest can even grasp the issues; when the people have lost the ability to set their own agendas or knowledgeably question those in authority; when, clutching our crystals and nervously consulting our horoscopes, our critical faculties in decline, unable to distinguish between what feels good and what's true, we slide, almost without noticing, back into superstition and darkness."

The US today as forecasted by Carl Sagan above.

1. "Becomes a service and information economy." 

(Google, Instagram, Facebook, etc. are now the biggest and most powerful entities.)

2. "Nearly all the key manufacturing industries have slipped away to other countries."  

(Steel, shipbuilding, consumer appliances, vehicles, etc. are now essentially manufactured abroad, like in China.)

3. "Awesome technological powers are in the hands of a very few." 

(Like Google, Facebook, Instagram, they now are able to manipulate and sway elections and laws in manners not witnessed before.)

4. "No one representing the public interest can even grasp the issues." 

(Listen to the politicians, the biased media, the deep state operatives from the different bureaucracies, the military top brass, etc., they could not be seen  as divorced from their assigned goals as they are today.)

5. "The people losing the ability to set their own agendas, or knowledgeably question those in authority."  

(Watch how from the president down they have completely forgotten why they are holding their exalted positions and who put them there. All this aided by media and academia. thus, we have mandates galore and an administration essentially avoiding dialogue with its constituents.)

6. Many people unable to distinguish between what feels good and what's true.  

(Wokeness and cancel culture persist and gain grounds, again aided and assisted by media, academia, big business, etc.)

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Marking a milestone!

Time is a Man-made Construct

God is eternal.  Man is immortal.  And yes, a regular year is 365 days, a day of 24 hours, the hour of 60 minutes.

All part of accepted conventional wisdom, which upon closer scrutiny cannot rest on the bedrock of credibility.  This is so because our narrative of time is anchored on a false premise.  For us, temporal time is our own construct of measurement.  It is nothing more than a marking of the movements of heavenly bodies against the vastness and inky darkness of an unknown universe.  Thus, a day is nothing more than the measurement of the earth making a complete turn on its axis; while the year of the earth’s travel around our sun.

It appears logical until we run head on against the concept of our Creator, who exists apart and separate from time, our concept of time.  He is not just simply eternal, He simply is!

Being such, everything He does or touches also exists apart and separate from any temporary constructs man has initiated and implemented.

When sentient man enters into an act, a promise, or a commitment that transcends the temporal, it is timeless!

Our earth-bound measurement of time becomes meaningless.

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Here is a thoughtful topic on elections in general. If you ask the “experts” they would undoubtedly come up with these premises and rationale.

If the contest is between an incumbent and a newcomer, typically the contest will be a referendum of the incumbent and his record of accomplishments. So votes cast will be either for or against the incumbent, based on his record. The against votes would be popularly referred to as protest votes.

However, if the contest is between two newcomers to the position, meaning neither one is incumbent, then the contest will be decided on who voters believe can better serve or is a better fit for the position being vied for.

If one turns to the experts again, they would readily qualify that those above-described premises are not always so. There will be times when both contestants having been so exposed publicly whether in public service or in the private sector, that both their records of accomplishments could become critical measures to determine their viability and electability. Thus the election would not necessarily be a referendum of the incumbent but a contest of electability based on records of both.

Thus in prognosticating, we assume (to a degree) voters decide like text-book voters, that is, they base their decisions on which candidate is a better fit for the position, which we would agree is for public service and the pursuit of the common good. Rather than based on personalities, level of erudition and/or eloquence, or even likability, etc.

But all could agree that it is doubtful in reality that voters are beyond not consulting and/or relying on the latter criteria. Man is such an emotional creature that it is difficult for him to thoroughly divest himself of those when making choices.

Still, it is good to know not only where candidates are coming from, but also the voters who decide on who wins.

I myself will put on my thinking cap and start the mental exercise on the real election events unfolding.

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Just discovered another ugly wrinkle that surfaced in today’s chaotic world.

Unless it is self-evident or previously expressed, it is not right to impugn the character of another person because of probable or possible motives/intentions that that person may have against another.

It is not only outright baseless but irrational to do so.  It could then also possibly mean that there is some projection involved in making that judgment.

Judge a person on what he has actually done and what he has expressly said as his motive for doing so.  If not, it is considered prudent to withhold judgment.

But the following is an example where motives/intentions are not just express but written and thus not imprudent to cast judgment on those involved:

https://www.youtube.com/post/Ugy8TgcAQ9_gEgUi6ux4AaABCQ

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Be careful what you all wish for, they could all come true.

When Duterte won, I grudgingly had a wish that was both all-encompassing and straight-forward.

Given and based on all that he had represented and personified, my wish was that he would “upset” all the traditional values and traditions that we had accumulated over the years as a nation and people living free from any foreign domination.  Since I had concluded that those had gotten us nowhere.

So that every time he would be required to think, say, and act as expected  by his high office, he would set aside the protocols and promulgate his own based on values he had acquired not only for being part of the common man but more importantly because he self-identifies with their plaints, plights, and hurts.

 Remember it started with the manner of dress, the pomp and elegance of official gatherings, down to the elevation of the lowly “maruya” as part and parcel of official and stately repasts.

 Now it has been a series of issues concerning foreigners or foreign countries and organizations.  Before anything else, we shall pre-emptively declare that this cannot be stemming from any aversion or revulsion to anything foreign or extraneous.  Remember his marriage was that to a foreigner.

Anyway, now his detractors are steaming hot on the collar because of his strident and negative remarks about the US.

Reflexively, they point to the foreign aids and other giveaway goodies we might have to forget about because of this.  Or all the negative financial repercussions this affront will engender.  Like when he insulted the UN, immediately people started counting the coterie of assistance the country was receiving from that body, and the insinuation that the country may now have to kiss them goodbye.  And this financial angle appears to be quite likely to come out immediately when something negative like this comes out of the office of the president.

But isn’t our mendicancy slip showing all over the place?  As a country and as a people, is that what characterizes or is important to us?  Again, where has all this gotten us?  That ought to be the Square One that we always try to get back to.

For all his flaws and inability to amply verbalize his thoughts and ideas, I am thinking that in his jumbled rhetoric what he is trying to bring across is the good idea that at this point we should aim for something grander and harder.  What about trying to wean ourselves from the good graces and benevolence of other countries, which appear to always look upon us by default as needing extra help just to stand on our own?

Maybe what he is conveying is that we try to cut that damned umbilical cord and go all out to better our future, over and above just simply surviving.  To wean ourselves from foreign hands and crutches and lifting ourselves with our own bootstraps.  Such a success ought to truly be meaningful and sustainable for us.

If so, then, hey, it is not such a bad idea.

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He probably is the most unusual democratic president of all time (my time, at least).  One so unwilling, so reluctant at first, giving all excuses both silly and understandable, to assume the formidable burden of a rugged campaign and now the intolerable rigors of the office.

 The most consummate model of an outlier president any country could possibly enlist.

 A solitary outsider, having only limited his political career to local governance in the most southern part of the country, away from notice and fame.  A section of the country considerably isolated and different from the rest.  And not desiring any or having no political alliances or dalliances with the rest of the country, showing great reservations and impatience in such methods of governance.

And now he holds the reins of government, being buffeted on all sides because of his coarse and uncharacteristic ways.   Unfazed, he goes about parrying and deflecting blows, allowing those who understand him and his intentions to do battle for his avowed causes.

So now many of his detractors claim given the most recent  developments in high echelons of government, that we now have a dictator reminiscent of the Marcos misrule, a ruler bent on dominating and singularly acting on his own lonesome to steer the entire country forward.

A dictator not ruling by force and duress, but by the trust and confidence his followers and believers invest in his rule?

Such a unique despot.   Is this a fine sample of a benevolent tyrant?

Or maybe derisively, signs of mass hypnotism of a good part of the country?

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Musings: when letting the mind run free and wild

 

The current Pope started his Papacy with great fanfare and expectations, and at the beginning he did not disappoint.  The essay below spoke of those first months of his tenure.

a’ Kempis (of Imitation of Christ renown) repeatedly reminded his readers not to play favorites with the saints and holy men of the Church.  It is sufficient for our purposes to acknowledge and be inspired by their exemplary lives lived in the service and worship of God.  Remember we have a very jealous God that will not countenance any competition with regard to worship.

In the case of the current Pope, many of us may have to re-think our thoughts about him, especially with regard to his holiness and righteousness.

And this might reveal how we ought to regard him based on what is impliedly coming from him.  Many devotees who have gotten near him and have been blessed by him have reported that in return and in parting the Pope is wont to offer the request that we also pray for him.  And many have been dumbfounded by this reaction.

But it is quite obvious.  Many come to him to ask for his blessings and prayer.  In return his parting word is his subtle way of telling these people that they are in the same boat with him, subject to the same flaws and vicissitudes.  Thus, if we ask for prayer and blessing from a fellow human, then we ought to return that favor by also praying for him.

As simple as that.

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                                                                       911 DIRGE

Words rush out of our mouths, like cascading river.

Never forget, never forget this horrible day.

Almost mindless and robot-like we continue to roar.

Always remind, always remember this fateful day.

Memory should be permanently ingrained in our minds.

Death and destruction wrought on a hapless nation.

When all it did was lived its daily life, unheeding.

Unmindful and not wishing anyone any ill will.

But we pause to ask: Why so, did it deserve its fate?

Did it inflict harm to its own, and thus feel remorse?

But no such thing happened, or is inferred as such.

Its reply to this revealed the nation's raw intent.

The loud answer shouted out what the real reason was.

Not to forget and forgive for retribution is coming.

And indeed such came in haste and in succession.

And the world has not forgotten nor will it forget.

Yet we continue our chants, never forget, never forget.

And we drone in cadence, each time the day draws nigh.

Yet we continue in our merry ways, unheeding the signs.

The signs that will bring the same dreaded aftermath.

The country continues to install rulers reflecting that.

The words from  mouths not synching what is in the heart.

Rendering then the yearly exercise pointless as can be?

So then we be quiet and proceed in our wayward ways?

Fate be the anointed guide and decider of the future grim.

At least we act true to what we have become as humanity.

Unheeding to old ideals that ought rule our daily lives.

To say Amen so long as we are aligned to kin and kith.

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                                                         Ways of Winning and Losing

Listened to both post-game interviews of the 2 good-looking losers in the semi-finals of the WTA US Open.

They did appear humbled by the 2 smiling and light-hearted victors, who appeared enjoying themselves not only with their many wins, but being thrust into the wild and noisy world stage.

When asked about their losses, one like throwing up her arms conceded that the youngster could not do anything wrong in her game.  The other said because she did not play her best.  Why not because the other players showed better than their best?  C'mon.

Also, they thought the youngsters won because they were fearless and had nothing to lose.

Huh?  Were they not that young before?  Maybe just 5-6 years ago?

A youngster pushed into that lion's den and having no fears?  Nothing to lose?  Most of us would not be able to control the shaking in our legs and bodies.

OF STRANGE DREAMS OF FEAR AND ANXIETY

All through life I have always had strange recurring dreams, but of late some are just too pronounced and demanding it becomes difficult not to take notice.  And over time I have written about such dreams, wanting to learn more about them.   Now it is postulated by some learned sources that dreams could actually be realities in a different dimension.

One such reverie occurred last night and thus thought it right to commit to writing at the first opportunity. Some familiar hallmarks do for me instigate such dreams to occur and this particular night was one such occasion.

I was just about ready to call it a day, after I had been physically drained by the yardwork I completed a few hours earlier.  And this coupled by the fact that the Internet was down due to maintenance work of the provider.  So I was just about ready to bed before 9 pm, after a hard day's work.

The dream materialized even before the hour turned to midnight.  It commenced this way.

For some unexplainable reason I still continue to work with the Westin St. Francis Hotel, though I had much earlier retired from it after 20 years of employment.  I thus find myself still working alone doing the IT work I had done prior to retirement.

And because dreams never typically follow the proper time sequence in real life, this narration will be one such example, jumping in time every which way.

So first I find myself looking for the room where former President George W. Bush is billeted and as is wont in similar dreams in the past I have difficulty negotiating through corridors, elevators, function rooms, etc. looking for the suite that I thought he would be in. And like past dreams, I find myself unable to find the right room.

Then the dream brings me back earlier, when I am inside that huge and dark wood-paneled room with the former president and another white-haired person that later I would recognize as being part of hotel security.  They were playing tennis inside that huge room, though at times it would turn to badminton.  On one side of the court was a big tree located near the baseline.  And so watching the game I placed myself beside the tree. But was told to step back because the tree was inside the court, which I did.  Then a little later, the white-haired person tells me that he had a good 15-minute workout playing tennis and badminton in which I remarked that I would have had a hard time doing what he did.

Then I find myself anxious in bed covering myself with a crumpled white sheet, with the former president beside me in another bed, and he is trying to placate  me, not to worry because my two bags will be given back to me in due time. In the dream, the 2 little bags are those I typically carried with me to work, with personal items in them, like my devotional books, my daily journal, and the usual clutter of pens and pencils, keys, etc. and at times extra clothing since at times after work I would change in the car and walked or jogged along the downtown area of San Francisco.

Anyway, he assures me that the bag will be returned, including some stuff that he would give me for my children.  It is then when I realize that I could be in danger, leaving behind in his room what could possibly be used to hurt him.  Maybe a bomb?  So my mind started racing about what things I may have in those two bags.  I recall that Bush was telling me that he liked one bag, which he described as a "tartanilla" bag and I said that old leather bag which looked a bit like a satchel  was given by my father, which bag when he was still using it contained all documents of his case load.  I then started to cry, though he gave assurance that nothing would happen to me.

At this juncture, I woke up staring at the darkness in the room, and my mind continued racing, this time about real things that happened to me.

I then thought about the time as a kid maybe of 8 or 9 when my father brought me with him to the town of Dansalan, in Lanao, where Muslims lived.  Riding his jeep we traveled to the place which is some 130 kilometers going west from our place. He had brought along his "porfolio" a small leather bag that contained his legal documents, and I was tasked to carry it around for him.  I do not recall any more companion with us, nor any conversation we may have had.  But I recall that reaching the place, there was a small coterie of people waiting and watching.  My father breaks through the crowd and enters the one-storey building where the legal case was supposed to be heard.  I left him with his bag and got back to the jeep outside, while the people milling around were all sucked inside.  Then nothing else.

Next my mind got into another occasion when I again rode the jeep of my father as his companion, this time there were other people and  luggage with me.  I was seated at the back on one side where a bare metal bench was. Nothing more than part of the frame of the jeep.  Facing forward, I had my feet raised on the bench and had a good view of the outside.  We were traversing graveled roads on some mountainous areas.  A detail I find hard to forget was that the soil on the shoulders of the road was reddish in color like clay, which is quite different in color from the one we had in the lowland areas. I had thought then that we were travelling to places like Imbatug, or Talakag, or even Impalutao in Bukidnon.

Another memory that tried to crowd in was my extended trip with my maternal grandmother to the remote island of Culion, in Palawan.

This time I became pensive and reflective.  From these experiences it would appear that the adults in our family had assigned for me a special task in their lives - as a travelling companion.  And to bolster to that, I also recall instances in my childhood when I would also accompany my mother, doing things that seemed like a child had no proper part in it, like going to movies that had adult themes.

Reality beckons, so I stood up, flicked the light switch, and starting writing my memories. 

Fernanda Cabrera Osmena Velez

 

Fernanda Cabrera Osmena Velez

So this narrative will be preserved and archived in my blog.

https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10159203705727348&set=a.84132687347

She was Fernanda Cabrera Osmena, who married Porfirio Velez. Her parents were Victoriano Osmena and Januaria Cabrera.

She was already elderly when I would stay with her or accompany her on trips. Her more prominent features were high cheekbones, long face, and droopy-eyed. So tried to recapture her image with those features at an earlier age.

My most intimate companionship with her was when as a little kid I accompanied her on a very extended vacation to the remote island of Culion, the leper colony. We stayed with the family of one of her married daughters.

She was most independent and regal in stature having lost her husband still in the 30s. She was quiet and withdrawn much like my own mother. Kept herself busy with her religious devotionals, and darning clothes in the most intricate fashion. I would watch her do this and be in awe at what she had done, like a little machine had done the work.