during these past days i got preoccupied with rereading my favorite books. one of these is siddharta by that great author, hermann hesse. it tells of one man's journey through Life and how he found Peace, and Joy, and Fulfillment. as i was reading it i recalled one of the poems, inspired by this book, that i was blessed enough to write:
i can hear vasudeva call
calling sweetly you and me
money and fame's not everything
i can hear vasudeva sing.
i can see vasudeva dance
knowing that nothing's happening by chance
every life's been destined to be
that's what vasudeva said to me.
i can see vasudeva smile
inviting us to listen for awhile
listen to the River flow
and try to escape this world of woe.
River straightens, River bends,
ever flowing, never ends,
River's waters turn to foam,
become clouds in Heaven's home;
become tears, become rain,
become River once again,
soothing waters make us whole,
let us hear vasudeva call.
let us hear vasudeva call
Life is One, Life is All
Peace is not in diversity
Peace Profound is in Unity.
know this River, this River called Life,
know Its joys, know Its strife,
find Its Reason, find Its Meaning,
let us hear vasudeva singing.
when i wrote this, the thought paramount in my mind is -- there has to be a way through Life other than the usual route of being born, growing up, amassing material wealth, becoming famous, building a family of one's own, and then, dying.
i was blessed enough to have been connected to persons with the same questions i had. and we searched for answers. and we found this other route --
every one of us is Divine.
and the other route through Life is to recognize this Divinity in us and nurture it to full flowering.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
old pedro and the art of sweeping leaves
he was unofficially our village's street sweeper. it just happened. well he's really not doing all of the streets of the village, just the few that comprised our block. i knew him only by his first name, pedro. he was, i believe, about 64 or 65 years old. he's doing odd jobs for some of the houses in our block, but mostly, what he does is to sweep the leaves that fell during the night and had littered the streets fronting the houses. he gathers these fallen leaves into neat piles and if they are dry enough, he burns them. very early in the morning, before even the sun can pierce the morning clouds with her rays, if you happen to take a stroll 'round our block you won't fail to notice the plumes of smoke rising heavenwards from old pedro's burning leaves. and you'll smell the pleasant aroma of burning leaves. in the mornings, if you are an early riser, you'll surely have these little treasures of experience. normally, this is really a task that most house owners look forward to in the morning as part of their morning exercise. but old pedro always beats them to the task and they have to oblige him with a few pesos and free coffee and maybe a couple pieces of bread.. this is why he unofficially became the street sweeper.
he has this look of a man that had battled difficult years. he is thin and his face is shrunken. but he is always clean shaven. his eyes are bright and always smiling. when he smiles you'd see he is already missing some front teeth and the ones that remained were rather crooked. these gives him his unique street sweeper look. he is always clad in an old jacket and an undershirt and denim pants that had obviously gone through a lot of washings. he always had on leather shoes to protect his feet. and he is always wearing a cap, specifically a baseball cap on his head.
i was able to befriend him when i chanced to meet him on my way to work. i was assigned for a work shift which begins at 3 am and ends at 12 noon. i have to be at the jeepney stop at 1:30 am, so i will be able to catch that jeep that plies my area during this early period. if i miss it, i won't make the office by 3 am. i thought i was the only one out during this period but i thought wrong. every day, during that week, i had always met old pedro. while i was on my way to the jeepney stop, he was, in turn, on his way to his first house for street sweeping. he was that early! no wonder no home owner ever beat him to the task. he's not from our village. he just walks from his house and mind you it's not near. but he does it. regularly. religiously.
the streets in our block is his office.
during that encounter with him, as always i did not mind him, since it's already several days when we have passed each other by on our way to work. yet, on that early hour, something was different. of course, his spade and his brooms were still slung over his gaunt shoulders, he still had his baseball cap on. what was different was that he was coughing profusely. i could not help but speak to him.
"old man, it's still too early, it's just 1 am, why don't you go home first and take some rest. " i advised him. "your cough sounds bad! and it's too cold at this hour."
"boss," he answered, and he smiled at me. in the faint glow of the streetlamps i could see the crow's feet forming deeply in both corners of his eyes. "i need to do this. this is the only honest job left for me. if i will be absent, these few houses that allow me to sweep their streets might not permit me anymore. i need to earn some money. i'm old but don't worry this body has been through a lot. i always work for my bread, i don't want to beg. my children and their family are still with me and we need every peso we can earn." he explained to me. his smile is warm and confident.
that's how we became friends. from time to time when i chance to see him sweeping the street fronting our house i hand him a 20 peso bill. it's not much but he does not put a price on what he does. i heard some house owners just give him 5 pesos for his unsolicited clean up job. he never complains. he just keeps on street sweeping.
during our conversations, he managed to tell me the things he learned in his work. "like tennis," he said, "there is a forehand sweep and a backhand sweep. you need to learn both so you can alternate these two strokes and not be easily tired. and with brooms, you should use brooms with fewer broomsticks for bigger objects so you can move them easily. leaves, when wet, stick very close to the street surface and it's difficult to sweep them off so one has to have a pointed stick handy to unloose these stuck leaves from the ground or the cemented floor.
the wind is also a factor to always consider in street sweeping. you must know where the wind blows. you must be friendly with her. don't sweep against where she's blowing. and when you're burning leaves, you must learn to call her." he whistled a tune which he said calls the wind when he needs her.
"but why do you have to carry that heavy spade?" i asked him
"well, boss," he answered, "from time to time in my sojourn in these streets, i come across dead animals. rats mostly. and frogs ran over by your neighbors' vehicles. sometimes birds. and i have to bury them. the biggest animal i buried was a cat. we'll i figured also that some homeowner might want to move a plant or two, so a spade will come in handy. it's better to be prepared." he looked at the pile of leaves he is burning and rearranged them. he swept the unburned leaves on top of the ones already catching fire. a plume of pleasantly scented smoke escaped upwards. "you know what boss, i love this job. this keeps me i think healthy. and earns me some money honestly." i can feel he is happy at what he does.
just this december when i met him i gifted him 100 pesos. not much for a christmas gift. but i knew it made him happy.
then it happened.
i was not seeing him anymore. in our village. it was my brother who broke the news to me. he was banned from ever entering the village. it was said he stole a homeowner's kid's bicycle and sold it. it was an ending i could never imagine happening. i can still picture old pedro's confident smile in my mind.
we will have to sweep these leaves ourselves from hereon.
one has to eventually begin learning the art of sweeping leaves .... but,
what is most important is to learn to resist temptation.
he has this look of a man that had battled difficult years. he is thin and his face is shrunken. but he is always clean shaven. his eyes are bright and always smiling. when he smiles you'd see he is already missing some front teeth and the ones that remained were rather crooked. these gives him his unique street sweeper look. he is always clad in an old jacket and an undershirt and denim pants that had obviously gone through a lot of washings. he always had on leather shoes to protect his feet. and he is always wearing a cap, specifically a baseball cap on his head.
i was able to befriend him when i chanced to meet him on my way to work. i was assigned for a work shift which begins at 3 am and ends at 12 noon. i have to be at the jeepney stop at 1:30 am, so i will be able to catch that jeep that plies my area during this early period. if i miss it, i won't make the office by 3 am. i thought i was the only one out during this period but i thought wrong. every day, during that week, i had always met old pedro. while i was on my way to the jeepney stop, he was, in turn, on his way to his first house for street sweeping. he was that early! no wonder no home owner ever beat him to the task. he's not from our village. he just walks from his house and mind you it's not near. but he does it. regularly. religiously.
the streets in our block is his office.
during that encounter with him, as always i did not mind him, since it's already several days when we have passed each other by on our way to work. yet, on that early hour, something was different. of course, his spade and his brooms were still slung over his gaunt shoulders, he still had his baseball cap on. what was different was that he was coughing profusely. i could not help but speak to him.
"old man, it's still too early, it's just 1 am, why don't you go home first and take some rest. " i advised him. "your cough sounds bad! and it's too cold at this hour."
"boss," he answered, and he smiled at me. in the faint glow of the streetlamps i could see the crow's feet forming deeply in both corners of his eyes. "i need to do this. this is the only honest job left for me. if i will be absent, these few houses that allow me to sweep their streets might not permit me anymore. i need to earn some money. i'm old but don't worry this body has been through a lot. i always work for my bread, i don't want to beg. my children and their family are still with me and we need every peso we can earn." he explained to me. his smile is warm and confident.
that's how we became friends. from time to time when i chance to see him sweeping the street fronting our house i hand him a 20 peso bill. it's not much but he does not put a price on what he does. i heard some house owners just give him 5 pesos for his unsolicited clean up job. he never complains. he just keeps on street sweeping.
during our conversations, he managed to tell me the things he learned in his work. "like tennis," he said, "there is a forehand sweep and a backhand sweep. you need to learn both so you can alternate these two strokes and not be easily tired. and with brooms, you should use brooms with fewer broomsticks for bigger objects so you can move them easily. leaves, when wet, stick very close to the street surface and it's difficult to sweep them off so one has to have a pointed stick handy to unloose these stuck leaves from the ground or the cemented floor.
the wind is also a factor to always consider in street sweeping. you must know where the wind blows. you must be friendly with her. don't sweep against where she's blowing. and when you're burning leaves, you must learn to call her." he whistled a tune which he said calls the wind when he needs her.
"but why do you have to carry that heavy spade?" i asked him
"well, boss," he answered, "from time to time in my sojourn in these streets, i come across dead animals. rats mostly. and frogs ran over by your neighbors' vehicles. sometimes birds. and i have to bury them. the biggest animal i buried was a cat. we'll i figured also that some homeowner might want to move a plant or two, so a spade will come in handy. it's better to be prepared." he looked at the pile of leaves he is burning and rearranged them. he swept the unburned leaves on top of the ones already catching fire. a plume of pleasantly scented smoke escaped upwards. "you know what boss, i love this job. this keeps me i think healthy. and earns me some money honestly." i can feel he is happy at what he does.
just this december when i met him i gifted him 100 pesos. not much for a christmas gift. but i knew it made him happy.
then it happened.
i was not seeing him anymore. in our village. it was my brother who broke the news to me. he was banned from ever entering the village. it was said he stole a homeowner's kid's bicycle and sold it. it was an ending i could never imagine happening. i can still picture old pedro's confident smile in my mind.
we will have to sweep these leaves ourselves from hereon.
one has to eventually begin learning the art of sweeping leaves .... but,
what is most important is to learn to resist temptation.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
the empty
after my workshift, i hailed a jeepney to ride back home. it was early morning, just half past nine. there was only the driver and his "backride". here, a bus driver has an assistant that is referred to as the "bus conductor".he is the one that dispenses tickets to each passenger and asks for fare payment. with a jeepney, the driver's assistant is referred to as a "backride". it's because when the jeep is full, this person has to stay at the back of the jeep, by the door, to collect fares.
i sat beside the backride on the front seat. he is very concerned. i listened to him complain to his driver how they are not getting good runs. passengers are few and far between. they try to take everything in stride. at one point he asked his driver to stop by an ambulant vendor and he bought 2 pieces of menthol candy. "Eat it well," as he handed one to his driver friend, "that's our lunch!". both burst out in laughter. it was just a short break in this otherwise silent trip.
soon after this, their luck seemed to change. the jeepney is rather long. it is a 20-seater vehicle excluding the front seat allotment for two. ten passengers can seat on each side. after some stops here and there, their jeepney is full of riders. the vehicle sort of took a life of its own. although most of the riders do not know each other still their presence took the melancholy out of the trip. now, you can hear animated conversation, snatches of laughter, even the bickering between two young students counting the coins for their fare. the backride asked me to slide over beside the driver as he gave way so another passenger can take the front seat beside me. the backride went to the back of the vehicle to collect fares. most of the people rode only for short distances however. pretty soon the jeepney was empty again except for us three. the backride sat on the front seat again.
"oh, it's so lonely," he sighed, "yes, we have this big vehicle, but without passengers, what is its worth to us?" he asked aloud. "every day i wipe the seats clean, i polish the decorations of this jeep, so we can attract riders, but it really gives me a bad feeling whenever we have empty trips like this." he pointed back at the two long stretches of vacant seats. the melancholy is back.
"we still have him," the driver is referring to me.
"of course we still have one passenger," the backride answered, "but brod, if you're satisfied with three riders, you should have made this vehicle sit three people only. you should have asked those who made your vehicle to just do this with only front seats. you would have saved a lot." i could not hide my amusement at this suggestion. i tried to picture a car with only front seats and with the back portion cropped.
"enough of that my friend," the driver said, "there are days like this. what is important is for us to always prepare our vehicle. keep on doing your job of prepping it up before we start our trip. if we always recognize the emptiness of this jeep, then this should be our motivation to try harder to attract riders in so we can fill up those vacant seats. try to innovate. vary the way you invite passengers to board. be lively! " he advised.
his backrider friend smiled at him. he fell silent for a while. i sensed he realized the truth in what the driver said. the empty seats must not be a reason to feel defeated. they must be the reason to try more. to do better. vacant seats must be their motivation to work harder.
he was not the only one who saw a truth in this. i realized something as well. i also often find this emptiness in me. after a mirthful sojourn with family, friends, acquaintances, after enjoying mouth-watering food, pleasant drinks, delightful music, dance, still i am left afterwards with an emptiness. a feeling of incompleteness. things of passing fancy can never fill up this void. this vacancy in me.
the empty feeling.
this must not lead me to melancholy. instead this must prod me to take further steps. to seek more that which Old Sages avow will fill up the vacancy and bring me lasting joy. and where is this that will bring completeness, They say? It is inside me. i have to go inside more. to know the Divinity within.
i am nearing my stop now and i can see the backrider mindfully cleaning the jeepney's windshield.
and gently he placed a colorful route signboard against the clear glass for all to see ...
i sat beside the backride on the front seat. he is very concerned. i listened to him complain to his driver how they are not getting good runs. passengers are few and far between. they try to take everything in stride. at one point he asked his driver to stop by an ambulant vendor and he bought 2 pieces of menthol candy. "Eat it well," as he handed one to his driver friend, "that's our lunch!". both burst out in laughter. it was just a short break in this otherwise silent trip.
soon after this, their luck seemed to change. the jeepney is rather long. it is a 20-seater vehicle excluding the front seat allotment for two. ten passengers can seat on each side. after some stops here and there, their jeepney is full of riders. the vehicle sort of took a life of its own. although most of the riders do not know each other still their presence took the melancholy out of the trip. now, you can hear animated conversation, snatches of laughter, even the bickering between two young students counting the coins for their fare. the backride asked me to slide over beside the driver as he gave way so another passenger can take the front seat beside me. the backride went to the back of the vehicle to collect fares. most of the people rode only for short distances however. pretty soon the jeepney was empty again except for us three. the backride sat on the front seat again.
"oh, it's so lonely," he sighed, "yes, we have this big vehicle, but without passengers, what is its worth to us?" he asked aloud. "every day i wipe the seats clean, i polish the decorations of this jeep, so we can attract riders, but it really gives me a bad feeling whenever we have empty trips like this." he pointed back at the two long stretches of vacant seats. the melancholy is back.
"we still have him," the driver is referring to me.
"of course we still have one passenger," the backride answered, "but brod, if you're satisfied with three riders, you should have made this vehicle sit three people only. you should have asked those who made your vehicle to just do this with only front seats. you would have saved a lot." i could not hide my amusement at this suggestion. i tried to picture a car with only front seats and with the back portion cropped.
"enough of that my friend," the driver said, "there are days like this. what is important is for us to always prepare our vehicle. keep on doing your job of prepping it up before we start our trip. if we always recognize the emptiness of this jeep, then this should be our motivation to try harder to attract riders in so we can fill up those vacant seats. try to innovate. vary the way you invite passengers to board. be lively! " he advised.
his backrider friend smiled at him. he fell silent for a while. i sensed he realized the truth in what the driver said. the empty seats must not be a reason to feel defeated. they must be the reason to try more. to do better. vacant seats must be their motivation to work harder.
he was not the only one who saw a truth in this. i realized something as well. i also often find this emptiness in me. after a mirthful sojourn with family, friends, acquaintances, after enjoying mouth-watering food, pleasant drinks, delightful music, dance, still i am left afterwards with an emptiness. a feeling of incompleteness. things of passing fancy can never fill up this void. this vacancy in me.
the empty feeling.
this must not lead me to melancholy. instead this must prod me to take further steps. to seek more that which Old Sages avow will fill up the vacancy and bring me lasting joy. and where is this that will bring completeness, They say? It is inside me. i have to go inside more. to know the Divinity within.
i am nearing my stop now and i can see the backrider mindfully cleaning the jeepney's windshield.
and gently he placed a colorful route signboard against the clear glass for all to see ...
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