EVEN up till now, I still hear small corner talk about people’s political candidates whenever I buy something at the local sari-sari store nearby. Because of this, I am prone to believe that give or take another six years, they would still be arguing about who won and who cheated in the last elections. Who knows what to expect from all these? That is just the way small talk goes around in our country. (Hence, the now popular Maritess)
Pretty soon, we might wake up one day to find out, from all this a movement is already being born and from thereon, new evangelizing leaders will rise up, all ready and groomed to run in the next electoral time. If that sounds preposterous, just look at all the sectors and sub-sectors represented in our party list system!
I forget the name of the writer who once said in his book, in any banana republic, they have a revolution every Thursday. However exaggerated that may sound to you, I guess he visited the Philippines and other neighbors during one of his vacations. This one I remember though. Marcus Aurelius once said, “Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth.” So, for believers who preach this, to each his or her own. It is however fortunate that there are those who believe that ‘unity in diversity’ is a more reasonable option.
Particularly in any community setting, while it’s natural that one may not agree with another person’s opinion and perspective, that should not be the end of it. Despite this, people can still function and agree on other things that could benefit them both, as well as other people in the community. Oftentimes, our long list of great thinkers, like crafty wordsmiths, all sound so good, they lull us into believing them (sounds like politicos). Because of this sweet talk, we miss out on the possibility that we needn’t be of the same feather always in order to flock together.
All these stemming from one story shared during a breakfast chat months ago. In the heat of the campaign period of the just-concluded poll, one friend had wondered how come she wasn’t anymore seeing the regular postings of a close pal on social media. She proceeded to look up that pal’s name in her account only to discover a glaring notice: Add friend. Ouch.
So, from here on, let’s try to imagine that in spite all our differences, we can pretend to be your selection of tasty green, red, and yellow vegetables. To sweeten the pot, let’s try adding just the right amount of cooking oil to a heated pan, jump into that arena of discourse and diversity and just be lost and stirred like crazy to the steady pinch and downpour of spices, salt and pepper. Voila! That’s all we are.
HONORING MY MOTHER
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