racoma.netI love to write. I write to live. I live to love.

In a few days it would be my seventh year as a father. It’s more than that, actually, if you consider the time my first daughter in my wife’s womb. And it has been such an interesting journey since then.

Attending Sunday mass this Fathers’ day, the priest gave an interesting deconstruction of how a father should be. He gave us three Ds for fatherhood: Dedication, Decision-making, and a willingness to Die to oneself.

Dedication means being there for your family, in your own way, no matter what. It means doing what’s necessary for one’s family. It means working for one’s family. And sometimes it means playing–especially applicable if you have kids. A lot of fathers today have lost this sense of dedication. Sometimes, I feel and think as if I’ve been missing out, as well.

Decision-making involves having strong character. While, arguably, deicions in a family are jointly made with the wife (and sometimes the kids), it’s often the head of the household who has a final say on decisions. And in this case, being strong and brave does not necessarily mean that it’s your choices and decisions that have to be followed. But, it’s doing something or deciding on something even if it’s not necessarily the most pleasant or the easiest thing to do.

Dying to oneself is perhaps the biggest and most challenging requirement of being a good father, as the priest’s homily stressed. It’s not physically dying (although it is a possibility). Rather, it’s prioritizing your family’s needs over all else. It’s pushing yourself to the limit to give them a good living. It’s giving your kid the best cut of meat when you’re starving. It’s letting your kid watch cartoons when your favorite show is on at the other channel. It’s paying for a good education even when the same amount of money can buy you a lot of gadgets.

Sometimes, it’s not even being the good guy that you “die” to yourself. Sometimes, being a father may have to entail being the bad guy–the one who scolds, who punishes, if for the good of your child or the family. It’s earning everyone’s ire for doing what you think is right.

In other words, it means sacrifice. It doesn’t necessarily mean being on the losing end of the deal. It doesn’t mean you’d rather be selfish. But it simply means showing your love through simple, meaningful, and often practical ways.

Sometimes we forget how it is to be good fathers. Sometimes we forget to be good parents, good spouses, good siblings, children, friends, even. What’s important is to make a conscious effort to try becoming a little better each day.

Fathers’ day is not only for commemorating dads all around. It’s also a day for us dads to reflect on how we have been as fathers to our children, and husbands to our wives. It’s a day for us to try and see how we can do better. And with optimism, this should not be the end-all be-all of fatherhood, as there are 364 other days of the year one should constantly and consistenly be a good father and husband.

image credit: flickr/gloq

photo credit: rahady

The first time I used a word processor was in the late 1980′s (or early 1990′s). Back then, WordStar was the most popular option, at least to my knowledge. I was fortunate enough to experience something that I think was better, though. The IBM compatible I used at work came preloaded with WordPerfect, and so that was my first exposure to the foray of word processors.

Watching the written word go from screen to paper, back then, was quite a wonder. Computers didn’t have GUIs, and most monitors didn’t have color. Print preview was a luxury only a few people could afford. You, therefore, had to know the meanings of various onscreen markup symbols by heart. And because mice were quite rare, you had to know all sorts of keyboard shortcuts and commands (most of which still work, with some variance).

Today, modern word processors are full of features and functionality. You can insert graphics, cliparts, create tables, insert different headers and footers, separate content by sections, and all sorts of bells and whistles. You can even find online versions of these document management programs, such as Google Docs, with some of the bells and whistles that their local counterparts have, with the added functionality of working from just about any browser, and from anywhere with an internet connection.

One thing remains the same, though. The quality of work still relies on the one typing on the keyboard.

I know how some of the best writers and commentators used to prefer old-school technology, such as typewriters, to create their best pieces. Somehow, the presence of all those bells and whistles might be daunting and distracting. Remember when Word 2007 first came out? A lot of people complained against the ribbon interface, saying it was confusing. Well, innovation is supposed to bring about easier ways of doing things. But I guess the human brain isn’t programmed to take innovation that easily. It’s very difficult to unlearn habits and practices you’ve already ingrained into your being, even if those habits and practices are old fashioned and stifling.

Still, when it comes to writing, I think simplicity is best. There may be many tools and applications that can help the technical writer produce his content. But I would go for something that’s distraction-free.

I’ve recently installed Dark Room on my Windows machines. Somehow, I’m enjoying the plain text on black screen again, like I used to. (Well, WordPerfect was white-on-blue, but Dark Room can be configured as such.) It’s not so much the feeling of being old-school. But for a person who’s easily distracted like myeslf, I like the fact that I can launch the application in full screen and just start writing. Sure, you can run Word in full-screen and change the colors, but it’s just not the same.

In fact, I’ve started working on my oldest laptop, for a change. I’ve just installed Windows 7, and the speed boost is great. The lack of bells and whistles let me focus on what’s important.

Going old school can sometimes be so refreshing.

photo credit: Mel B.

A recent study by the Pew Internet & American Life Project suggests that young people have grown bored with blogging.

Meanwhile, the use of social networking applications (except Twitter) has been on the rise. Is this yet another indication of a fickle population with a very short attention span?

While blogging among adults as a whole has remained steady, the prevalence of blogging within specific age groups has changed dramatically in recent years. Specifically, a sharp decline in blogging by young adults has been tempered by a corresponding increase in blogging among older adults.

Sometimes I ask myself why I still maintain several blogs. These days, I’m so busy I rarely get the chance to regularly post even on my main blogs. I remember the time last year when I promised myself to write at least one substantial post here each day. For a time, I succeeded. I often took a few minutes each morning to clear my mind, and try to meditate on the events of the previous or recent days. Or sometimes, I try to plot the direction I’d like my day to have. And then I would write.

Due to one reason or another, I got tired. And now I only get to post one to two articles per month. Still, I tell myself, better to write something nice and well thought-out rather than some dull, inconsistent, babble not worthy of a read.

I don’t think I’ve grown bored with blogging. Every day I still write. It’s a different kind of writing–definitely different from blogging. I do consider blogging as a medium, but writing still remains the primary activity. And so, while I have moved my focus away from using my blogs as a medium, I have not moved away from writing at all.

Or, perhaps, the fact that I don’t consider myself losing interest in blogging means I’m getting old.

photo credit: Anonymous Account

Thomas Edison said that genius is one percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration. I can say that much is the same with creativity. You can only get so far with inspiration, but you actually have to do something about it in order to actually be creative. Creativity involves both the output and the process through which that output comes about.

This comes to my mind because of a few things I have noticed this week. I seem to be quite reactive to certain inputs that influence me. In particular, what I write about and what I do are often affected by some of the most mundane of things that I come across.

Watching a film the other day, for instance, has inspired me to pursue some things similar to actions done by the protagonist. This is largely in line with my profession, and I was able to relate to the protagonist very well. I would hope that outcomes are as positive in my case as it was in the film (which was biographical, therefore giving me much optimism).

Sometimes it’s obvious, but sometimes, the source of inspiration might not really be fully related to the choices and courses of action that I would do, but still relevant to some extent. I read an advertisement for a mobile service yesterday morning, which inspired me to do some hacks and tweaks on one mobile device I already own. Reading one thing had pushed me to do something. I was glad I succeeded this time, as I had actually been searching for answers and results since more than a year ago. Sometimes the answer can be glaringly obvious, but we always see past them.

Humans constantly react to various stimuli, after all. Inspiration is just one of them. Some would think of inspiration as being touched by a muse, having a vision, and being shown some secret of the universe that can only be bestowed on a chosen few. In reality, though, inspiration can come from the most mundane of things. Like Archimedes, you can get that Eureka! moment in the bath (it has certainly happened to me several times). You don’t need special things to be inspired. Look around you. Anything and everything can be a source of ideas and inspiration. It all depends on how you look at things, and how these affect you.

The question is how well do you react? And how do you react?

photo credit: Thoth, God of Knowledge

They say you are what you eat. I think I must agree with the proverbial all-knowing they. If you listened to your high school biology teacher closely enough, you would learn that when we digest our food, our bodies would then break these into tiny little bits that somehow find their way into all sorts of cells inside our bodies.

And if you believe in the GIGO concept–that is, garbage in, garbage out–you’d agree with me that if you eat mostly junk, then you’re bound to be made of junk sooner or later. If you usually have a well balanced diet, then you’d most probably have a well-balanced body, as well.

Perhaps the same could be said about writing. What comes in would also influence what comes out. The better the things that you read, the better you’re able to write. Think of it this way: the material you read would ultimately influence your ideas, your writing style, and even your way of thinking. Therefore, reading good stuff would be one good way of being a better writer.

But an even more important idea is this: what you read ultimately finds it way inside your psyche. Try reading some really well-written fiction. Before you know it, you would be identifying with the protagonist, and you’re somehow living his adventures (or lack, thereof) in your head. And for some time what, or how, you think, act and write would be influenced, or at least affected, by this affinity.

Does this mean we have to be thoroughly selective of what we read, though? I don’t think so. This doesn’t mean we have to be snobbish about what we read. There’s as much room for digesting mediocre writing as there is for the good stuff. But what I think is important is one’s judgement and ability to separate the wheat from the chaff. Going back to our food analogy, I think what’s important is learning what tastes good from what tastes bad, and deciding on putting more of the yummy treats on your plate. Reading is about learning, after all.

Of course, this doesn’t necessarily mean that bad-tasting food is not good for your body. But that’s another story.

photo credit: jangelo

One of the more striking reflections I’m blessed to have been shared with this Christmas season are the three principles–or shall we say conditions–that came with Jesus Christ, and the salvation He brings about, being given to us as a gift.

One, God gives his Son to us as a Gift. He does this on His on accord, from His own free will. And as It is a Gift, we should receive the Gift as it is.

Two, we should accept the Gift on the Giver’s own terms. No pre-conditions. No buts and ifs.

Three, we cannot buy the Gift. It is given to us freely, and we cannot set a price on the Gift and we therefore have no right to ask for the Gift in exchange for something. It has been given to us in the first place, and we cannot earn it, no matter what we give in exchange.

I thought about this as the image of the Filipino custom of pamamasko comes to my mind.

On the street, you see scenes of children approaching cars with hands cupped and outstretched. “Namamasko po!” they chant, in the hopes that the vehicle’s occupants will give them some spare change.

At home, the door bell never ceases to ring, as carolers, with their bottlecap tambourines, do the same thing. They go from door to door, singing merry tunes, perhaps expecting a few pesos from the residents.

Even when visiting relatives, kids are used to approaching their aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas and godparents. “Namamasko po!” And every Christmas, a gift is expected, especially from the godparents, who perhaps feel this is the only time in the year that they get to exercise their godparentship.

Sadly, though, I feel that the true meaning of pamamasko has been lost in the materialism of it all. Instead of Christmas being an occassion of happy gift-giving, it has, for many people, translated to an annual exercise of gift-asking, and gift-expecting, and gift-doling-out.

A person who receievs a gift in surprise is always the happiest. It is in the unexpected that I, personally, revel the most.

If I buy a lottery ticket, hoping and praying that my number gets picked for the multi-million peso jackpot prize, I would only get disappointed when it doesn’t. The same can be said when you psych yourself for receiving gifts at any occassion or season–be it Christmas, your birthday or anything.

Why not psych yourself to give this Christmas season? And it’s not just giving because you are compelled to, but rather because you want to, on your own free accord. It may not necessarily be a material gift wrapped in colorful paper and bound in glittery ribbons. It can be your time visiting a relative, even if he lives two hours away. It can be a smile you give to your neighbor as you greet him Happy Christmas. It can be the whole few days of quality time you spend with your spouse and kids while you’re on vacation.

Sure, exchanging of the material gifts can be part of this. But try to focus not on the tangible stuff, but rather on the fact that it’s Christmas and you want to make someone happy with your time, effort, love, and yes, even material gifts.

Maybe then we will get to rediscover the true spirit of pamamasko.

It could be about streetkids approaching your vehicle with a smile, because they want to greet you a merry Christmas. And in doing so, they somewhat remind you of how fortunate you are, driving in comfort and not plying the streets with dilapidated slippers and tattered clothing.

It could be about youths braving the cool December air, going door to door and sharing their gift of music. Many of these groups donate the proceeds of caroling to a charitable cause, after all.

It could be about kids going to their aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas and godparents not for the gifts, but really to spend some time in quiet or not-so-quiet revelry. After all, the rest of the year we’re really busy with work, school and a lot of other things. And if you’re parents, remind yourself that you’re not paying a visit just for the gifts to your kids, but to give your gift of time to these relatives and friends.

Again, salvation through Christ is given to us as a Gift, (1) to be received, (2) on the Giver’s own terms, and (3) which cannot be earned.

Think of this when you give a gift. Think of this when you receive a gift.

Happy Christmas, everyone!

photo credit: Davichi

Last week, I went on a three-day workshop with educators from various government agencies in the Philippines. It was for a project run by the Philippine Commission on ICT in cooperation with a few foreign donors. It was a training of trainors, and the topic was the responsible use of ICT. It was a last-minute activity, at least for me. What was interesting was that I was actually not a participant, but I was the facilitator, upon the request of an old classmate and a former teacher of ours. And so I had to rush through the material, drive 90 kilometers to the venue, and hold a workshop for 20-odd participants.

Among the expectations at the start of the workshop was for the resource person to be exciting, lively, and, well, resourceful. I pointed out that the activity being a workshop, I wasn’t actually there as a resource person, but rather as a facilitator. Each and every participant was a resource person. After all, the topic at hand is partly their expertise. Therefore, my job was not to teach, but rather to help bring about a relevant exchange of thoughts and ideas. My job was to synthesize and to help people bring out the best in themselves.

In short, I was there to help.

Coming back home during the weekend, and after some nudging from my wife, I had a realization. I often trudge through my daily routine thinking that with all the work I’m doing I’m able to help a lot of people. But spending time with the people from the workshop made me think and rethink this.

Am I truly helping people?

Back when I was working as a government economist, I had grand dreams. I thought I was helping people by facilitating programs and projects that the government was financing and planning. Then at some point I got disillusioned. I started thinking that what I was doing was only helping propagate inefficiency and corruption. But again encountering people from government has helped change my mindset. These were people who were actually working at the grassroots. These were helping people learn about technology. These were people who are actually trying to effect small changes that might actually result in the improvement of the lives of those in need, no matter how marginal and minute.

It dawned on me that this was what I wanted to do. I want to help people help themselves.

The challenge for me now is how I would do it. And these days I ask myself many times a day. Have I helped anyone today? Have I actually, concretely, done anything to help improve the life of one actual person? Is what I am doing actually helping that person help himself, thereby breaking the vicious cycle of helplessness?

Ask yourself this. And maybe this can help you realize what you want to do for the rest of your life.

photo credit: PrASanGaM

Most people would probably think of writers and other industry experts as insufferable know-it-alls. You do see a lot of marketing gurus and social media experts flaunting their business success, giving tips and guides, and teaching other people some tricks of the trade.

What most do not know is that a lot of these so-called experts have learned what they know along the way. And the good ones, at least, are perpetually in a state of having the beginner mind. I came across the term reading past articles, particularly this one from Escape from Cubicle Nation.

Beginner mind is a state of being where you approach learning with no judgment, censoring, editing or preconceived expectations.

To me, basically, having that beginner mindset is being curious, and being a learner.

Learning is important, after all. Even if you have amassed a huge amount of knowledge in your years of academic study and even more years of actual experience in the field, there are still inevitably some things you will learn along the way. You can learn new things from the simplest and most mundane of things, to the most complicated of concepts. You can learn from theories, and you will learn more from applying these theories in real life (whether they succeed or fail in real life events is part of the learning process).

The beginner mind is not only important in business and entrepreneurship. In anything that you do, adopting the opposite mindset–the expert mind, in which you think you know it all–is sure to invite trouble. If you think you know it all, you’re no longer welcoming new ideas and change. You become closed-minded. You learn nothing. You stagnate.

In terms of the arts–writing and literature included–having the beginner mind also means welcoming new ideas and welcoming critique. If you think of yourself as the best writer in the world, with the best writing style and flair, with zero possibility of committing grammatical and logical mistakes, then you’re in for trouble.

If you’re sitting atop your pedestal, wearing your plumes in your hat for all to see, telling everyone you’re at the top of your game and you would rather not be elsewhere, then that’s probably not the best place you can be. If you think you’ve achieved your best, and you’re at the peak then there’s no way but down. Always look for challenges. Always look for opportunities to improve and do better. Then, even if you come down from your peak, you can always just bounce back up.

Be open to new ideas. Be open to new things. Have that infinite curiosity of a child, and try to learn as much from your environment. Learning is fun and exciting. I still relish at the thought of learning new things every time, even if it were just the simplest of things that I’ve overlooked through the years. I’ve often found myself in the trap of being insecure because I lack expertise in a lot of things. But then again, perhaps keeping my mind wide open is better than knowing it all.

photo credit: Axel Bührmann

Perhaps at one time or another you’ve come across blog posts or articles about how to succeed in blogging. One common advice that people who have met success in blogging would give you is probably this: that you should write, write and write. True enough, successful blogging entails consistency. If you don’t start getting noticed, and if you don’t keep your target audience happy, then your blog will most likely wallow in obscurity.

But, then, I find that there is a flaw in this reasoning, for one cannot just write, write, write. What would you write about? What would you say? What would you communicate?

One trap that inexperienced bloggers often fall into is writing just for the sake of it. Here’s where the advice to just write, write and write meets a dead end. If you focus on just writing, with the aim of making sense of it all somewhere along the way, you tend to lose track of why you write. You lose the essence of writing. You get lost in the words, and they don’t have meaning anymore. Writing becomes mechanical, and it becomes tedious. It becomes forced.

You will start to hate writing. And this will make for very bad output.

Yes, the best writers out there take time to write. They spend hours on end drafting a manuscript, polishing it, seeking critique and criticism, and then finally publishing their masterpiece for the world to see. But they do not write their whole lives. To me, the best authors are those who have truly experienced the world, or at least the subject that they write about. If you’ve been immersed in a certain world, and have truly enjoyed what it means to be in that particular environment, then this would result in a better appreciation of the subject at hand. You get better insights. You get better opinions.

It’s like writing about riding a bike. If you just write, write, write about riding a bike, without truly having ridden a bike, or at least having truly enjoyed the experience, you would probably write that riding a bike can be fun and fast.

However, if you’re an avid cyclist, and you’ve experienced the thrill of going downhill at top speed, and skidding to a turning stop just before hitting that big boulder, you could write better. Like flying, I can feel the sting of the wind on my face. The hairs on my arm stand straight as the rush of driving downhill warms my blood. Even in the confines of my stuffy helmet, I feel free as a bird.

Experience is the best teacher, they say. That’s why most of the time, I would listen to someone who has had a PhD from the School of Hard Knocks rather than someone who has fancy academic degrees. Better if one has both, though!

Don’t just stay cooped up in front of your computer screen. Go see the world. And then write about it!

Oftentimes when I’ve finished drafting a blog post, I think long and hard before I hit the publish button. I wonder whether my post makes sense at all. I wonder if it will hit some nerves. I wonder if I have made mistakes. I wonder if people will critique and criticize.

And then in a moment of blind faith, I close my eyes and just click the big blue Publish button and will all my fears away.

Being a good writer is about trusting yourself–trusting yourself enough to know you’re doing the right thing by writing what you write. Trusting yourself does not always mean blind faith, though. I must admit that there I go through moments of self doubt all the time. I have insecurities. I have longings for things I oftentimes cannot attain (whether only at the moment or never at all). But what’s important here is that I try to face these fears and doubts, and move forward with the tasks at hand. When it comes to writing, to me it’s a big feat that I get to publish anything at all, especially when it comes to blogs and other mediums that require voicing out one’s thoughts and opinions.

Blogs–or any medium, for that matter–are sounding boards, after all. You have the power to share thoughts and information with the rest of the world. To some people, this might be fazing. It’s like unfolding part of your soul for the whole wide world to see. Even if what you write is not necessarily personal in nature, it can be worrisome. If you’re a journalist, then the burden becomes even heavier–you should be able to stand by the facts you report. If you’re a columnist, then you should be able to stand by the opinions you share. If you’re a novelist, then your credibility as a writer hinges on how your story can entertain and satisfy.

Each sentence and paragraph, attributed to you, becomes part of who you are. And therefore there’s the feeling of nakedness, in that you are open to critique, and possibly ridicule. Are you prepared for that? Are you prepared to take a stand and defend what you have written, if needed?

This is probably why some would write behind pseudonyms. I should know–I have done this, too, one time or another. I do have my reasons. But even then, the fact that I’ve exerted enough effort to write under a different name and personality makes me vulnerable also to feeling for that particular persona.

And so, the next time you write something and publish it in a public forum, give yourself a pat on the back. It only goes to show that you trust yourself enough, or that you are able to transcend doubts and insecurities well enough to just reach out through the written word.

image credit: flickr/just_jump