Saturday, December 31, 2011

My Top 2 “MUST-DO” on the 1st Day of the Year, 2012

1. Check your Health.

I did not bother to wait for the new year countdown last night, December 31, opting to sleep at 11PM so I can wake at dawn to take a 5 kilometer road-run. I jog almost daily, except when it rains or I am on travel. But I intend to make this run different because I will try to run it at a grueling pace, just to sort of test my fitness and physical health.

The streets were deserted and dirty due to last night’s midnight revelry. As I drove to the memorial park where I will make the run, I was forced to turn around to get my cap so that rain can’t stop me from finishing, just in case.

It was still quite dark as I started to run the very moderate incline of a half kilometer (from my own reckoning, but I’m going to know for sure once I find my pedometer) stretch. I could clearly see the outline of the beautiful mountain on the far end. This great view plus the cool wind was so refreshing it made me push for speed early in the 10 laps that I intend to do today.

When the 6th lap came, it was downhill. I began to feel cold drizzle on my face, making it more pleasant to run. I noticed to my far right there was now a middle-aged couple standing over a tombstone and paying respects to their dear departed. What a meaningful way to spend their first hour on the first day of the year, I thought to myself, as I admired them silently.

When I turned around for my 7th lap, I was enthralled to see a rainbow so low and so vivid, with the majestic mountain view as backdrop. Although I had not seen a rainbow for what seemed like ages, I am fortunate to have seen 2 in the last 3 days. I had forgotten how many bands of color a rainbow has so I kept counting them. The happy thoughts must have diverted my attention somehow so that when I returned to my senses, I realized I was running at a punishing clip.

I am now down to my last kilometer and it was excruciating. I had wanted to correct my miscalculation by slowing down, but what the heck, this is the first day of a new year, I’ve got the energy, and there’s nothing like running turbo-charged with the wind in your face.

2. Take Time to Reflect.

My heart was pumping in over-drive as I walked briskly to warm-down after that final mad dash to my imaginary finish line. I could now feel the crisp sunlight on my back. Flocks of small brown birds traverse short flight paths in the green wet grass.

There’s this thing I believe about having a positive thought create other positive thoughts. So I used the next half kilometer of my warm-down to sort out the thoughts in my mind and reflect on them. First I said a little prayer for what to me is an extremely satisfying year past, 2011.

Then I decided on what’s urgent and what’s important. It’s important to get in touch with family and friends, for example. Of course it’s important to get a good start on the first day of the year, so I will make a conscious effort today to go to my office table, sort things out, and make a good road map for what I want to do this year.

With that, I went home, took a long refreshing shower, and had a slow breakfast, deliberately tasting every bit of left-over food. It was fantastic. 

Let’s get it on, 2012!



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Saturday, December 24, 2011

Is there a Heart of Gold? The Beauty of Believing in People

It’s christmas eve, two and a half hours from midnight. It’s a rainy evening, and the kid-carolers on the street are few, allowing me some quiet moments to write this blog. On December 19, two days before my friend George left for the US, we visited his cousin, Joel, a structural engineer, in far-flung San Mateo, Rizal. Joel, our host, turned out to be very engaging, as he entertained us in the spacious 2nd-level patio of his strikingly beautiful home amid some social drinking.

The weather was good and the night skyline of Marikina clearly visible over the horizon. The cool breeze highlighted the tranquility of the night, punctuated only by rambunctious laughter of our small group. Joel was telling me how he is always apprehensive in visiting the US. The first time was when he did it contrary to doctor’s advice, landing him in a hospital where a hole was drilled in his skull to relieve pressure on a clot that he sustained in a fall. 

But this blog is about Joel’s latest sojourn in the US where he took the opportunity to visit his cousin and my friend, George. This time he lost his passport.

Joel reconstructed the chain of events that led to the loss by detailing the circumstances of his travel from Sacramento, where he met his brother, to Camarillo, California, where George lived. At some point in between, they drove into a campsite at Big Sur for some rest and food. While there, he met Jack, whose appearance makes it seem he is either a hobo, a drifter or vagrant bumming around.

Joel approached Jack’s table and greeted him warmly. “Good afternoon. What’s that, man?” “Oh, this one here is jade. I’m putting a hole on it so I can make it to a pendant which I sell for 20 bucks”, said Jack.

Joel’s wife Gemma shouted to Joel from their own table: “Pabayaan mo yan!” (“Leave him alone!”). But Joel’s interest was aroused by Jack’s skill as he drilled holes to several flat stones he carried, manually and rigorously scratching them with other stones. The two men made good conversation. “Hey, Jack, what’s the best way to get to Camarillo?” “If I were you, I’d take the Pacific Coast Highway One. I’ve been a driver a long time, I use it always coz it’s more scenic, you’ll enjoy the ride, believe me", Jack answered back.

Then it was time to travel, and as Joel made his way back to their car, he took a last glimpse of Jack, and, pointing at him with a finger as if a pistol, affectionately ended their short meeting with these warm words: “Thanks, man. I believe you. Good Luck on your business.”

After another six hours of driving, they arrived on the doorstep of George’s home around 10PM. George greeted them a warm welcome with these ominous words: “Pasok kayo. Wala ba kayong nalimutan?” (“Come in. Did you not forget anything?”)

Joel gave this small talk little thought and began unloading his stuff from the car. Suddenly he stood stupefied, albeit momentarily, after realizing he cannot find his laptop bag. In it was his passport. Then it dawned on him that he had brought it out to Jack’s table back at the campsite in Big Sur to check quickly on his emails.

Wasting no time, Joel made a decision to travel back to the campsite immediately. While they drove another six hours, he recreated mental images of what had transpired that day just to be sure. As he did so, he got a steadily increasing sense of portentous things to come in the eventuality that he does not recover his passport. How long will it take to process a lost passport? Will he stay here the whole time? What about his resources? He is on leave and his work cannot afford a long absence.

Joel regained his balance however when he found an old tune running in the trove of his memory. Perhaps he saw himself so helpless that he found meaning in a Neil Young song – ‘Heart of Gold’ so he quietly sang it in his mind: “I've been to Hollywood, I've been to Redwood. I crossed the ocean for a heart of gold.” Perhaps Joel was hoping against hope that his salvation can come in the form of an honest man with a heart of gold.  This place by the coast is an ocean detached from what he calls home in San Mateo, Rizal.

They pulled at the campsite at 4AM. It was still dark so they had to pass a few anxious minutes waiting inside the car. At daybreak, the first people they met were park rangers whom they apprised of the situation. The rangers made a few calls of inquiry but all returned negative. Joel asked about Jack. The rangers knew him as the guy who visited the campsite from time to time and lived by selling stuff. Joel told them he didn’t care for his laptop, he just wanted his passport back. Although the situation appeared to turn more desperate, it was only 6AM and they were asked to wait till the office opened at 8AM.

After what seemed an eternity, the door of the office opened. Joel rushed in to tell his story to the person in-charge, who then made more inquiries while Joel stepped out to wait. 

Shortly thereafter, the guy at the office came out and stated in a matter-of-factly but congenial voice: “We got it!”

Joel couldn’t believe what he was hearing for the first time so he was tentative. When he was finally ushered inside the office and handed the laptop bag, he instinctively reached out for the side pocket and found everything intact, including his passport. The next few minutes made Joel busy, filling out forms prior to release. Then every excruciating moment prior to this point turned into a blur as he stepped out into the fresh, cool morning air.

Yes, it was Jack who returned the bag.

When they said their ‘good-byes’ Joel volunteered to leave 200 bucks at the office for Jack, in case he ever came back to the campsite. The voice of the guy in charge was firm: “Sorry, we can’t do that.”

As they drove away, Joel reflected on the “what-ifs”. What if he had not gone out of his way to accord some civility to Jack when they met? Yes, it definitely pays to Believe in people.

PS.
To Jack, please know that we created a slogan in your honor and it goes this way: (with finger pointing as if a pistol) “I believe you!”

This slogan was heard repeatedly throughout the evening of December 19 when I met Joel and the solace it brought erased my doubts in the universal goodness of man. Jack, you are our “The Anonymous Heart of Gold for 2011” awardee. 

Merry Christmas.
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Saturday, December 3, 2011

Being Rich and Being Good Are Not Diametrically Opposed: Top 5 Lessons from the Life of David G. Bradley

I came across this man when my Facebook friend and childhood chum Marden Iglesias posted an article of Cheche V. Moral, (Philippine Daily Inquirer, Sunday, December 4, 2011) titled "Enjoyment is by Heart. The Purpose is by Will."

This article is very refreshing to read because it contained many novel ideas. I decided to make a blog on My Top 5 Lessons from this man’s life:

  1. Being Rich and Being Good Are Not Diametrically Opposed. Atlantic Media Company (of which he is chairman), had a recent year-to-date revenue of $80 million. David G. Bradley is a 58-year-old philanthropist who graduated from Harvard Business School and made it big in business. In Washington, he is described as “a force in the entrepreneurial world of new era business” and the “most civilized man in Washington,” for his generosity of spirit and elegance. Yet his 3 kids have, at different times, visited the slum areas of Tondo, Manila. With his wealth, he ventured into anti-poverty programs in the Philippines to provide shelter, health and psychological care and legal protection to abused street children.

  2. Dare to be the voice in the wilderness. Bradley says: “While there are 100 fantastic causes, CPN (Child Protection Network) is the one where no one was watching when we started.”

    I think far too many of our business leaders are engrossed trying to make themselves good managers. They forget that what propel private enterprise forward in this country are good leaders with vision and passion, with little help or encouragement from government, if any.

    Another way of 'daring to be the voice in the wilderness' is to say that a leader must be able to 'stand against a crowd'. It is normal for any novel idea to encounter inertia at the start. But you have to stay the course if you believe in it. As I have quoted in Perry's Apothegm no.19: “History, though, shows us that the people who end up changing the world... are always nuts, until they’re right, and then they’re geniuses.” Dr. John Eliot said so in his book 'Overachievement'.

  3. Try to hire the best and brightest if you can. One of Bradley's company’s core values is “force of the intellect”. He went to great lengths to get the best people to work for him. However, he looks for a person with first-tier intelligence and an ego under control. He said the latter cannot always be found in star executives in media (Bradley owns several media ventures). In fact, he found only one in 80 candidates while scouting for a president of a magazine division in one of his ventures.

  4. Develop generosity. Another of Bradley’s company’s core values is nurturing a spirit of generosity. He says: “If you can create a culture that’s largely selfless, thoughtful, generous, it is a powerful magnet for attracting and retaining talent.” This one caught me by surprise, perhaps because we have been so jaded by too many success strategies articulating the best way to have an edge in this highly competitive world is by being a step or two ahead of everyone.

  5. Pursue your passion relentlessly. Bradley says: “The Philippines is much too special a place for me to just enjoy it. I want to be serious about something here”. This became his purpose. And he pursued it with passion from the time he first set foot in the country in 1977 as a Fullbright scholar. He established, and for the past 34 years has been helping anti-poverty programs in the Philippines, like the Child Protection Network (CPN), an organization that cares for abused street children, providing them shelter, health care, psychological care and legal protection.
Finally, the article pointed out that Bradley and his family ‘were amazed at the Filipino spirit.’ I’d like to say that if other people could love us for who we are, then it’s high time we start loving our selves. 

Let us show our appreciation by being proud of our own. 

Enough of the Pinoy crab (“pull-everyone-down”) mentality. 

Only then can we take our rightful place in the ranks of respectable nations. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the best of them. Better now than later.
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Wednesday, September 21, 2011

When Death Happens.


In my meager Blog Archive there are 15 articles which I started to write in March, 2011.

Last July 17, 2011 I made a blog about a friend entitled “The Bravest Heart: a Tribute to a Friend”. This was 2 months after I visited my friend, Mario Castillo in Tiaong, Quezon in May, 2011.

Right after this article came out, I was swamped with a lot of PMs from many of my friends who were touched by Mar’s story. My heartfelt thanks to all of you.

Within 2 weeks of its publication, that blog dislodged both my top blog of the last 2 and a half months (What's the 3rd Most Visited Place in The Philippines [May 1, 2011]); as well as its close second (How It Feels to be in the “Pre-Departure Area” of Your Life [July 8, 2011]).

September 17, 2011 is the birth date of my mom. On this bright, sunny day death happened. Although it seemed more to me like death intervened. After years of medical complications, one after another, my friend Mario’s frail and wasted body succumbed. I was informed one day before burial date, set at 2 PM of Wednesday, September 21, 2011. So I had to travel 16 hours yesterday to spend the last 4 hours by his side before he was laid to rest.

I had known Mario for 22 years, requesting him to work for me at Speed Computer College in Sorsogon city as COO in 1997, when his diabetes caused him to be bed-ridden and sidelined from many of his activities. After about a year, he was well enough to return to his job in Manila. The school we helped reinvigorate rose steadily and in fact celebrated its 20th foundation anniversary last August, 2011.

We seldom saw each other or talked after 1998. But when I visited him last May, 2011, the few hours that we talked were pleasant and still full of hope. I did not realize it would be the last time I would see him alive.

Yesterday at 3 PM, after the mass, his daughter, Thea eulogized him by giving her insights to “Who is Mar Castillo?” She said her dad raised them in love and laughter. He was a father who did not impose but gave guiding words that taught them independence. I couldn’t agree more.

Laughter. You cannot be with Mar Castillo and not laugh. We really shared a lot of fun moments. This is not to say we had similar, compatible personalities. In fact we are opposites in many ways. He was an extrovert for the most part. He basked in the friendships he cultivated around him and was profligate in his expenses, spending prodigally, and often, recklessly. Most of all, he was a man of the world who was full of life.

Only a few of the closest people were at his funeral. But all of his 7 kids were there (6 natural, 1 adopted). 

And so were his 5 wives (4 are moms of the 6 kids, 1 had no kid but made an adoption). 

I know 3 kids and 1 wife personally. The rest I am meeting for the first now. I’m pretty sure they all have heard of me.

You see, Perry Auxillos is not only The Friend of Mario (caps supplied by me); I am the friend, primus inter pares. I think I am one of the few (if not the only one) who can connect the dots in the lives of Mario’s diverse family members at that funeral. This I say tongue-in cheek, because I know enough detail, as shared to me by Mar through the years of our association. With his passing, I know that this too will fade in my memory.

So what made us click as friends and thrive in our diversity though we were poles apart? Well, for one, I respected his intelligence. For example, he had a way of explaining theories in Physics in the simplest manner which even a laborer can understand. We were both handymen and liked working with our hands. But he had the talent of keeping things simple.

We liked to discuss constructing things that made life easier for others. Whenever I’m confounded by a construction methodology that might be too expensive, or involve too much manpower, or take too long, I will find time to discuss with him. He has the gift of analysis that breaks down complex situations into simpler ones.

I will remember Mario for the way he lived life to the fullest. He savored it with zest. Years ago, when I reminded him against driving intoxicated, he reassured me by saying: “Repa, Mind over Body!” In effect he was telling me not to worry because his mind was in control although his body was a bit tipsy.

When I saw him last May, 2011, as he rushed to me in a wheelchair with a foot amputated below the knee as a result of his diabetes, he shouted: “Repa, dati ang kawikaan ko – ‘Mind over Body!’; ngayon iba na.” In mischievous anticipation I asked: “ano na?”

He retorted: “Repa, I’m a Mind without a Body!” And with that he gave me a hearty laugh. Mwahaha. You cannot not love this guy.

In Memoriam, Mario Castillo, Tiaong, Quezon. 1954-2011. The Bravest Heart.



                                                                                                                         
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Sunday, July 31, 2011

The Reason I Keep Hosting Friends


This past 2 weeks I had the privilege of meeting two friends from my childhood. The first is Relly Salle, now a colonel in the AFP Technical Services; and the second, Lino Corcuera, a long-time resident of Canada for more than 30 years.

Relly and I sat for about 3 hours over a cup of coffee, reminiscing on days past. We talked a lot about Marden Iglesias, now a successful professional in the fashion circuits of New York, because the three of us grew up together in Mandaluyong at a time when houses were few and far apart, and the streets were not so congested. We talked of the demise of family. We talked about the siblings we remember. Relly can’t forget how 3 kids, (my brother Lope, Relly and me) took a bus all the way to Araneta Coliseum to watch Harlem Globetrotters.

Of course Relly and I talked about the twists and turns that our lives took: how he made a remarkable recovery from a recent heart by-pass, and now he’s back to playing tennis and doing jogs. It was a picture of him in Facebook playing tennis that first caught my attention. I had a mistaken recollection that he wore a leg brace (for polio) as a kid. I was wrong because it was his kid sister who did, and not him. Relly still stays in the multi-door apartment that they own on Tanglaw street whenever he’s in Manila because his assignments bring him to various parts of the country. How he remained single after all these years is a topic for another coffee table talk and another blog.

Lino on the otherhand, stayed with me for 2 weeks, first in my Mandaluyong residence, then in Sorsogon. We drove the south road for 11 hours to get there so this gave us a lot of time to talk. Lino visited the country for 2 reasons: (1) to check out the properties of a Chinoy real estate developer here which he intends to sell in Canada; and (2) to get a life, after nursing a broken heart out of a recent separation.

Lino observed how I spend my 24 hours of each day. It was too hectic for him I think, because he begged off from going with me on some days, preferring to stay in the den that my friend George (Fernandez, from Camarillo, CA) had used before him. There he browsed the internet, taking care of his financial transactions, or sleeping, as he adjusted his body clock. Lino experienced 2 days of typhoon, Bicol style.

In these parts, storm intensity go to as high as signal no.4, and as recent as 5 years ago, 2 typhoons, Milenyo and Reming, both signal no.4, came within a month of each other. It devastated people’s psyche to have to rebuild one’s life from utter ruins, only to have it ravaged a second time a month after. This happened to Sorsogon. It was far worse in Albay, a province an hour’s drive away. There they sustained almost 3000 dead bodies, many unrecovered because they got buried in lahar that the majestic Mayon volcano spewed out.

Fortunately, we had good weather for most of the week so Lino joined me for most of my daily 5 AM road runs. My staff took him on islands tours to dive the marine sanctuaries. But he hosted a luau for our school’s student assistants, now called the academic grantees of the Speed Center for Leadership (SCL). He was impressed by how they worked to shut down and secure the school at the height of the typhoon.

I remember Lino as probably the most hard-working kid in our neighborhood. As a teenager, he helped an elder sister run a furniture shop. Perhaps he saw a piece of himself in the SCL grantees that we help send to school because when he addressed them in one Sorsogon Bay Cruises dinner, he gave such an inspiring talk, they were so moved with emotion.

In any case, this is the reason I keep hosting friends who come over. It gives me a chance to slow down from my daily routine as I join my friends in the daily activities that my staff help put up. This gives me some time to step back and get a better perspective of life and the appreciation I ought to give it. Few things give better pleasure than looking back on your life journey with another person who was part of a specific point of your timeline. You should consider trying it sometime.

To all my friends, if you think you still cannot find the space nor time to visit, follow Nike’s advice: Just Do It. I got you covered.
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Sunday, July 17, 2011

The Bravest Heart: a Tribute to a Friend


I met him two months ago. But we've not seen each other for what seemed like ages. He became my friend when, in 1997, he helped me run a school I had established in 1991. It was FVR term, and as Fidel Ramos, 12th president of the Philippines, was preparing to leave office, the economy burst into overdrive. The country was touted to be on the way out of the IMF as a debtor-country for the first time ever, and the stand-by fund made available to the country for good-credit performance was rejected by this president.

Mar Castillo’s 10-month stint with our school proved to be our most successful run at that point in time. It was not hard convincing him to be the COO (Chief Operating Officer) because he was dealing with the debilitating effects of diabetes at the time and was out of a job. His status was a stark contrast to what it was barely a year before – he was a man on top of his career as a topnotch sales manager for a water purification system.

But things took a downturn at the onset of his diabetes. It was a blessing that his 2 daughters finished school at about this time, one graduating from UP, the other from Dela Salle. How he managed to do this in a climacteric point in his life is a testament to skill and savvy in resource generation.

I have seen a lot of rich guys who did not or could not spend the way he did. Mar spent in wild abandon for friends, whom he entertained lavishly at their home in Tiaong, Quezon. This, owing to the fact that he led a ‘singles’ life, his marriage having foundered many years earlier. Not a few abused Mar’s generosity, and I told him so.

As he lay in bed in excruciating pain, I told him to come work for me as COO of a school. I could not pay him the high salaries of Manila, but he accepted anyway. Maybe he thought he was doing a friend a favor.  Or maybe he thought the fresh air of suburban Sorsogon, an 11-hour drive from Manila at the tip of south Luzon, would be well for his recuperation. I wouldn’t know.

But the fact is that the 10 months that he stayed with us made him well. It also made the school’s financial position sound. So much so that when he left in 1998, in his early 40’s, he was able to go back to his job in Manila, from where he visited us unannounced from time to time, sporting a new car each time. Then it all stopped. I did not see him for close to 10 years until out fateful reunion 2 months ago.

As I knocked on their gate, I could hear his voice asking the maid who it was. I did not notice him right away as I made my way into the front lawn. Then I saw it, from 6 meters away, a gaunt figure of a man on a wheelchair, racing its way towards me. The wheelchair careened as it hit a floor 6 inches above the ground. An emaciated body with the left leg amputated 4 inches below the knee dove to the ground, gave the wheelchair a quick push, then clambered back into its seat. He turned his head up and vigorously repeated: sino yan? Sino yan? Si Perry? (Who are you? Who are you? Are you Perry?)

As I stood motionless, I tried to make sense of this wasted image of the man before me. His left leg ended in a pulp just below the knee. The way he had groped in asking who I was made me realize he was blind somehow. His clothes hung loosely on his skeletal frame. His voice trembled. It could not have been several seconds that I hesitated to answer him, but that seemed an eternity. I was trying my damnest best not to break down into tears. Finally, when I did answer him, it was in the most tranquil way I could muster. Except that my heart bled inside.

Mar’s story however, is one of triumph over great adversity. It is a story of resilience beyond breaking point. Above all, it is courage fit for the bravest of hearts.

Nearly, 10 years ago, when we lost contact, Mar made a successful comeback to his career. He then settled with a common-law wife some years younger than him. His choice alienated him from family and relatives. Over a year ago, Mar’s advancing diabetes rendered him blind.

At first, he was overwhelmed with panic, but his salvation came in the form of a child they adopted at about that time. Again, with no income due to his blindness, he was forced to care for the child as his wife worked menial jobs to sustain their living. Thinking that the child’s very survival was dependent on him for most of the day made him accomplish tasks that an ordinary blind person might not have done. More than anything else, it removed his self-pity because he thought: there is at least one other person in this wretched earth still dependent on me for survival.

Mar’s wife made a living by selling barbeque in the streets. One person approached her, asking if Mar could do the design, construction and supply for a water-refilling station they would invest on, not knowing that Mar had gone blind. She said: yes, he definitely could. They had their first client. And this started their remarkable journey to success.

I had known Mar to have spent some years of school in Mechanical Engineering. Now in the darkness of his vision and solitude of his mind, Mar went over the designs and costs, shooting orders to buy this and that, and to connect them here and there. They finished the work after a few weeks, and when the water-potability test returned a passing mark, my friend’s client was in business. And my friend Mar was out of the rut.

Soon after that, they had heard about a medical mission from America doing the rounds of Quezon province. But they had to deal with a lot of bureaucratic red tape in order to get in line. With a lot of patience, as blind people normally have, Mar was operated on one eye. So now he could see outlines of images as well as brightness of light. This is the reason he made a groping effort to visualize me as I entered their gate 2 months ago.

Out of gratitude, their first client gave them preferential price so now Mar’s wife sells and distributes purified water instead of barbeques. Stretching their income, they bought a motorcycle and placed a sidecar, not only to deliver more containers of water per day, but also to transport the wheelchair-bound Mar to his intended projects. I accompanied him to one project inspection, where I requested him to ride in my SUV. But the wife would hear none of it, and quickly and single-handedly whisked Mar and his wheelchair to their motorbike. As I followed them 4 kilometers to the site, I cried one of the happiest tears of my life.

Mar went there for the finishing stages of construction for the water-refilling station of his second client. The guy, who had invested about half a million pesos is manning the outlet, seemed happy. Mar told me he encountered many technical problems in this project. But it was easier for him to solve them because he could now see what he used to configure only in his head. He also taught his wife to be his technician, installing pipes and fittings and equipment that his frail body could no longer manage to do.

Amid so much adversity, there is a ray of sunshine. Mar and his wife could now afford a yaya (childcare help) for their adopted child. They also employ on-a-need basis, one guy as welder and helper. The child’s biological mother had recently wedded a foreigner and now leads a comfortable life. She sends P5000 pesos monthly, but only for child support. One of Mar’s two daughters has also started sending him a fixed amount to help in his medicine, which cost has sky-rocketed in the past few years. The Speed Center for Leadership, a foundation I support, will also help out, in recognition of Mar’s inspiring ‘brave heart’ and how it has touched people’s lives.

I’m a pragmatist who views Mar’s situation as living on borrowed time. I do not hold false hopes for his recovery. My only prayer for him is to be as comfortable as is humanly possible, considering all the pains his human body has endured so far. And that he serve as a beacon of strength to those of us who are about to throw in the towel. Or jump out the window.

I was with Marco, a staff of my school, when I visited Mar. I had sworn Marco to secrecy, asking him not to tell Mar’s story to the rest of my staff, who know him well. I was not ready to tell his story at that point, and needed more time to discern and imbibe as much of the lessons I could learn from his life journey. 

I hoped that at some point in time I would be the one to tell them of Mar’s story as part of a leadership training of sorts. But I realized his story is for those who find themselves in the abyss and need to be inspired. I now know that that time is now. Perhaps the more appropriate title for my blog should be: “To the Abyss and Back”.





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