Unbalanced Love

From blog health.yahoo:

Have you ever loved somebody more than they loved you? Have you ever felt the vulnerability and helplessness of that predicament? If you haven't, you are an anomaly…and you may be missing out. I think that very often in love relationships, there is one who kisses and one who offers the cheek. And the sad reality is that the one who offers the cheek (the one who loves the least) controls the relationship. That's OK. In an enduring love, over weeks, or years, this scenario tends to alternate. I spoke to a woman who was married for 40 years and asked her the secret. She said, "We never fell out of love at the same time." (Whoa!)

By the way, I do not think "controlling the relationship" makes you the winner in love. If there is any consolation to being the one who loves more, it's that you, at least, know where you stand. Why is it better to love than to be loved? Because it's surer. Besides, my mother once told me (probably when some girl broke my heart) you can only truly feel love by loving, not by being loved.

Nicholas Cage (as Donald): I loved Sarah, Charles. It was mine, that love. I owned it. Even Sarah didn't have the right to take it away. I can love whoever I want.

NC (as Kaufman): But she thought you were pathetic.

NC (as Donald): That was her business, not mine. You are what you love, not what loves you. That's what I decided a long time ago.

- "Adaptation," written by Charlie & Donald Kaufman

CLOSING CYCLES

by Paulo Coelho

One always has to know when a stage comes to an end.If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through.

Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished. Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents' house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of a sudden? You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened. You can tell yourself you won't take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister, everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.

None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to understand the things that happen to us. What has passed will not return: we cannot for ever be children, late adolescents, sons that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers who day and night relive an affair with someone who has gone away and has not the least intention of coming back. Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away. That is why it is so important (however painful it maybe!) to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home.

Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place. Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them. Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood. Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else. Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the ideal moment. Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back.

Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person. Nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need. This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important. Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life.

Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust. Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.

Sacredness and Spirituality: Hallmarks of the Family

by Jose B. Pilar

When our editor, Tess Valencia, suggested this topic for the Christmas issue, I thought that it was an appropriate subject to ponder during Christmas, when the entire faithful is celebrating the birth of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

As we know, the Christian faith is universal and global, but we must also remember that in many parts of the world, even in our own country, societies have beliefs and cultures of their own that are unique and different. They vary according to their ancestral legacies. These differences are often a source of conflict and problems.

In this context, the rise and fall of societies are deeply-rooted in family relationships which influence and often cause differing political thought and actions.

Christians believe that when a family holds itself as sacred and spiritual, it becomes a strong and positive influence in society. If we perceive these qualities in families around us, we can attribute them to an upright upbringing and to the Filipino’s traditional cultural make-up.

Some questions arise in my mind: how sacred do we view our own families? How spiritual are we, really? Are our faith and culture keeping us together in facing national political conflicts?

Perhaps, a brief historical perspective may shed some light into these aspects of our lives.

Long ago, the pre-hispanic Malay race from which our roots sprung was made up of freedom-loving, fiercely feudal tribes. When the Spanish explorers sailed to the Philippine islands, they came upon these ethnic tribes, some of whom were friendly and others, hostile. The Spaniards saw islands of virgin land that were sparsely populated. Unchallenged, they claimed the land for their king and queen, which we suppose was the customary way of their time. Soon after, Spanish missionaries came and built big churches all over the nation. One of our illustrious historians, Alejandro Roces, wrote that these ancient churches served to attract the ethnic tribes in the highlands, to come down to town to attend fiestas and other church festivities. They were, thus, converted and became the early Christians in our islands. Today, these great old Catholic churches, these edifices, are the landmarks of our cities and towns. They are symbolic of our people’s historical faith experience.

In the later part of our history, American teachers taught us our democratic principles and institutions. They paved the way for our independence. Foreign industries came to our shores. At the same time, in those years, Chinese and Indian cultures, among others, arrived and were assimilated into the mainstream. Indeed, the Filipino-Christian culture that evolved mainly from these various cultural influences is unique. It can be said, therefore, that despite many hardships, the colonial years brought positive social and spiritual benefits to our people. And this is why our Christian faith today is alive and strong. It is manifest in our customs and traditions.

For the ordinary Pinoy, faith is centered in the family. Thus, the family is sacred; it is a sanctuary. The Filipino needs family as much as he draws strength from it. He cherishes the things in the family that gives him peace and joy. His perception of sacredness is based on faith and belief, on religiosity and spirituality, on the integrity of the family members who practice what they preach, and on Christian values that apply to the daily grind. This view of family goes beyond today’s parents and kids. They go back to grandparents, and great grandparents. It is also a glimpse of the future.

For many of us, adopting social standards that address family issues give us a claim to respectability. Naturally, an image of self-respect is deemed important. It is a matter of pride. For instance, the family takes pride in a child’s achievement in school. The family takes pride in a son’s marriage that is well-prepared and is sanctified in the Church. But, on the other hand, the family may be humbled and hurt by the unexpected, such as when a daughter lives-in with her boyfriend. Citing another example, a child’s faith may suddenly be shaken by discovering his father’s secret infidelity.

For most Pinoys, church rites form part of their social agenda. It is part of the intrinsic desire for holiness. It goes with the attitude that, for example, urges parents to bring a newborn child to the sacrament of baptism. Another instance that is not uncommon is that of a couple already married in civil rites, but still wanting to have a church wedding ceremony. On Sundays, going to mass is a weekly family ritual, never to be missed. And mass is often followed by outings into the mall or to recreational places.

In the countryside, church festivities and town fiestas are traditional holiday celebrations. They are often the highlights of the annual social calendar.

These are traditions and customs of our Christian heritage. They indicate strong religiosity of the Filipino.

In our respective homes, whether big or small, one always finds the customary altar. Holy images are invariably displayed; even cars and jeepneys display a medal or crucifix, reflecting the Pinoy’s belief. Is this practice really meaningful?

Some Church authorities feel the laity is sometimes overly engrossed in external devotions, and duplicate movements, which priests do tolerate at times. It does bring to mind, however, a question of the authenticity and sincerity of our faith. Certain folk practices such as self-flagellations, or walking down the aisle and up to the altar on one’s knees are basically expressions of worship and supplication. Do they change people for the better? A popular quotation says: Prayer does not change God; prayer changes him who prays.

It is said that a real faith change is attainable with true spirituality. It can only be experienced in a personalized relationship with our Lord Jesus Christ, through the Holy Spirit. Thus, to be renewed, one must be in a state of readiness to learn and practice the teachings of Jesus (as He taught in the Scriptures). One must seek constant renewal and keep away from occasions of sin. Receiving and practicing the Sacraments, the Liturgy, and the Preaching of the Gospel, are ways for a family to attain spiritual peace and joy.

In light of the above, we propose that concerned members of the laity ponder the need to educate our fellow Catholics in a secular culture. Large numbers of Filipinos studying in public schools learn their religion only by word of mouth and by popular customs and traditions. Religious instructions are not given in these schools. Thus, it is easy to understand why we have so many Catholics in name, but not in practice.

In a way, the Philippine Bishops recognized the laid-back character of Filipino Catholics in its Second Plenary Conference in 1991. They exhorted the people as laity to awaken to the realities of politics in the country and to be actively involved in renewing politics as a citizen’s duty to God and country. But the laity, composed of nominal Catholics, failed to respond.

As a matter of comparative interest, a trend in secularization is causing Christ and God to be dropped from schools and workplaces in the United States. This trend is considered a threat to family solidarity. If the American faithful fails to respond to this trend, time will come when that American families will have a Christian faith with a pagan culture.

Perhaps at this stage of our national development, renewal of the faith by way of education is a call of the times. A deeper understanding of family issues is needed to deal with situations such as overseas work that separates parents and family members, declining school work and teaching quality, going to church and praying together as family, upholding family life, and, facing threats squarely such as pre-marital sex, drug abuse, early marriages, abortion, media entertainment, same sex marriage, live-ins, and so forth.

Nourishing family relationships and values is an area for renewal of faith, and this requires the devotion of personal time to learn the bible, join in community activities, encourage companionship and relationships by which we endure suffering and loneliness, understand sorrow and pain, and experience love and joy, as we go through different stages of family life. When we experience the whole gamut of our emotions and feelings as we go through life in pursuit of our faith, in the end, we learn to love God.

Contributed by Christian Family Movement, Unit 7, jose b. pilar

Let Your Sour Be Your Bookie

by Sting

"You can make a fresh start with your final breath." Bertolt Brecht

One man's risk is another's sure bet. I may have the reputation for being a risk taker, but when I look back, I wasn't always conscious of taking them. At least, not at that time. I might have appeared that way to outsiders. But to me, at the crossroads, there weren't really two divergent paths for me to consider, two stark but equally compelling choices. There was a dead end and the edge of a cliff. So if it's die or jump, is it risk or destiny. It doesn't matter. Maybe risk is destiny.

I suppose the first big risk I ever took was to leave my "profession," which was teaching. I was twenty-four, had a wife, a baby, a dog, a little car. My foot was on the first rung of the ladder, but I wasn't going up; I had one boot in the grave. I knew that for sure the minute the head teacher warned me in horror that if I left, I'd lose my pension.

Pension? Didn't know I had one. All I did know was that I didn't want a life with a pension plan waiting at the end of it. I know that attitude was arrogant. I was born into a working-class family and for us, pensions were the reward for hard, honest toil. But it wasn't going to be my reward. Arrogance is a highly underappreciated
character trait. In fact, arrogance fuels risk.

My former wife was an actress pursuing a career in London and I knew if I was going to make it as a musician, I had to be in London, too. So we packed up all our belongings, which besides the baby and the dog was a rocking chair, and set off in our battered Citroën toward the living-room floor of a friend. I really had no prospects. What was I thinking? Well, I wasn't. There seems to be very little
cognitive process associated with risks. But I was also strangely joyous -- like you're about to dive into some very cold water and the minute before you hit the water you think, "There's no turning back now. I've done this." And there's a great freedom in knowing that there aren't any safety nets.

Whenever you change the direction in your life, it's going to scare the people around you. That's a given. But if it doesn't scare the daylights out of you, it's not real risk. Very often, fear comes only when you're well into it. Those early days were both debilitating and frightening for me because the only way I could support my family was to go on dole. Turn up on Wednesday afternoon, sign your name, and say you're available for work. I never felt that I should be there, doing that, but I was grateful for it each week because during the day I could practice my music. That's when I met Stuart Copeland, who would later be the drummer of the Police, and
he had this idea of forming a band. He said that he liked my playing and singing and wondered if I wanted to take a risk tagging along to see how it might go. Was there a choice? It didn't seem like it at the time, it just seemed like the answer to my prayers. So again the paradox: If you had no choice, how can you call it a risk?

I've never believed there's anything to be gained from an educated risk, where you weigh all the consequences and then take your chances and hope you choose the best possible outcome. Usually we take on well-thought-out wagers for practical reasons, like for money. But more often than not they backfire. Even the most brilliant strategy, the most reasonable plan can morph overnight into a leech, sucking the integrity out of you, until you're barely able to say "Never again." That is, until the next reasonably profitable, well-thought-out devil's IOU presents itself.

Sometimes people mix up thrill seeking and risk taking, but I think they're totally different experiences, with different motivations and outcomes. Thrill seeking is flirting with danger, taunting the fates. Thrill seeking seems to be a particularly male endeavor; it's probably encoded in our DNA. It's speeding motorcycles, parachute
jumping, mountain climbing, drug taking, and adultery when you've got a great wife and a beautiful family. My perverse enjoyment of rough plane rides brings out the thrill seeker in me. I was once in a near-crash in a small plane flying over Venezuela. When I walked away from it, surviving was one of the best feelings I'd have for a long time. Surviving. What a rush. Women understand this wild streak
in their sons, but barely tolerate it in their men. Perhaps external thrills are the most seductive when our daily lives disappoint us. I sometimes think that we men seek thrills because we don't always have the courage to take real risks, whether they're emotional risks necessary in successful personal relationships, or practical ones,
as in changing jobs.

True risks, that sudden leap into the cold water, can carry you into a state of grace. Coincidences, synchronicity, chance, karmic charm, it doesn't matter what you call it, there's a positive force that intervenes that covers your back. Things click. It makes sense because true risk is the only thing that forces spiritual and
emotional growth so immediately, so dramatically. In my life there's always been a connection between risk and luck. A lot of people approach risk as if it's the enemy, when it's really fortune's accomplice. A risk may seem ridiculous to other people, but risk isn't random or rash when it's a necessity. The night I decided to walk away from the Police, I'd felt I'd reach the summit. We were being hailed as the hottest band of the decade. In barely five years we'd gone from playing for a handful of people in bars to 67,000 fans in Shea Stadium. We'd sold forty million records. I had more money than I knew what to do with. But I was miserable. I was out of control and so was my life. Everything was falling apart -- my first marriage was breaking up, my relationships with the other guys in the band were horrendous, yet I had the world envying me. As I walked off the stage, I knew I had to make the change. Everybody
thought I was certifiable. But I was joyous, relieved. Risk has given me back my soul.

As one grows older, one has more to lose and the risks loom larger. I'm halfway through my life. How do I become the old man that I could admire now, a wiser elder? How do I grow old gracefully, especially in my profession, which glorifies youth so aggressively? How do I become useful to the people around me and my society as an
older person? I think it's crucial to take a fresh start, take a blank canvas, do things that defy logic, whether it's introducing an audience who's used to listening to music in a four-four time to a more complex meter, or making a movie that's unconventional, or popularizing somewhat unfamiliar topics such as rainforest issues or meditation or whatever. What's disconcerting or unexpected often pleases me, especially if it takes my audience and me in a new direction. In the end, I know I won't find it personally rewarding just to toe the line, stick to the formula. I've got to progress more as a person than as a personality.

What's my biggest risk now? How about being happy? I used to subscribe to the theory that in order to write anything worthwhile, you needed to be in some sort of turmoil. And I wasn't alone in that belief. I would manufacture all sorts of problems in order to be able to create. But in the last few years, I've made a conscious decision to create from a profound depth of happiness, and no one is more amazed than I am that some of the best work of the deposed "King of Pain" was inspired by joy.

It has always impressed me that the Chinese pictogram for crisis is the identical one for opportunity. I'm convinced that taking risk redeems, restores, and reinvents. So the next time you're overwhelmed by curiosity, or the prospects of change makes your
stomach heave and the ground beneath your feet rumble, my advice is, don't look back. Risk is sitting on your shoulder, my friend. Nothing in your life is beyond redemption. Dive into the cold water. All bets are off.