To See Eternity In A Daffodil

I remember I wrote a reflection paper back in college for our English 12 class. It was about our hobbies, our personalities, and the different things we were interested in. I was so nervous as I was writing this paper because it was one of my first written requirements in college. And so I wrote there all the things that I do and the different ‘versions’ of me. I started with me being a public health enthusiast, and this was my reason why decided to stay in Health Sciences. I also wrote how I am a lover of music and the Arts, which is manifested by me playing the violin and drawing, reading and writing poetry, painting, and doing different crafts in my spare time. In addition, I love staying healthy and I am a fan of sports. I wrote how I have been a swimmer since I was five years old, and how I have tried different kinds of sports. In terms of my relations with the people around me, I described how I am different when I am with my parents compared to when I am with my friends. Both of them know me as appreciative and loving, but my friends know me as the crazy one, but for my parents, I am the studious and boring one. Writing the paper made me feel satisfied as I was able to list all of these things that I am proud to be for the first time in my life. A week later, it was given back to us for peer review. Surprisingly, the comment I received was “You have too many interests. Maybe having a lot of interests means not having any interest at all.” My professor wrote a little note on the side, “I couldn’t agree more with your classmate’s comment.”

            The truth is, this comment scarred me for life. Every time I do the things that I believed I have interest in, I ask myself, “is this what I really want? Do I really have the passion for this? Or am I just trying things out? Am I just following the trend? Am I just copying everyone else?” Sometimes when the idea of having too many interests vis-à-vis no interest at all gets to the deepest parts of me, I ask myself, “Would I really allow this to define me?”

For the most part, these questions did not help me. I was too occupied with thinking that I am only fooling myself or that maybe I was only trying to impress everyone else. With this exercise on the lifeline, genogram, and I-me, however, I was able to extract the reasons for my interest in many things. It is not because I want to impress people or because everyone’s doing it, or not doing it, so I want to try it. It is because I find the beauty in it. I appreciate. I find magnificence in the most mundane things. I want to try things because I see the beauty in these things. But there are times that I don’t, only after the experience do I get to make the meaning out of this. I try a lot of things, but there are things that really interest me. These stay because I get to make meanings for these, and I get to make meanings for my attachment for these things.

I am a fan of Edit Piaf, a French chanson singer in the 50s. Her most famous song La Vie En Rose has captivated me for years now, and I could not agree more the concept of it. I believe that I see life with this appreciation sunglasses, that lets me see everything in rosy hues. Almost everything and everyone is beautiful to me. I get to love things later on after trying them out because I get to make meanings out of these. I get to appreciate them, even if at first, I did not like them.

And so I have numerous me’s in my life. I used to think, as a result of the comment that I received back in English 12, that this is a manifestation of a split-personality disorder. However, with the reflection now, I find that these things are not different versions of me, but are different parts of a bigger whole. These interests and roles all shape me to be a better and more defined person. Through these roles, and the reflection of these, I get to make a meaning for myself. Like what Fr. Roque Ferriols said in his article, “Sa paghihiwalay, mas nabubuo.”¹ And like what Sir Bobby Guevarra kept on emphasizing to us, “There is beauty in brokenness. There is beauty in partition for there is a promise of being whole again. A better whole of you.”² These many me’s form this single I. I would like to extend Fr. Ferriols’s statement, “Sa paghihiwalay at sa pagkilala nito, mas nagiging buo.” The I that I am is the I who seeks, and finds beauty in a daffodil.

However, there is a me that I believe has the biggest influence to the I. It is the me that is a daughter. The biggest heartache for me is when people do not find the same beauty from these things. In my timeline, it my lows were always about my family. However, upon deeper introspection and reflection, I found the real reason for the lows. My family has always been my reason why I am here in medical school. They are my source of strength and inspiration. My father’s health is that phenomenon that which motivates me to be a doctor.

When life makes my dad appear as if he is just an organism that gets sick. It frustrates me how his doctors see him as just another patient who needs to be given all of these medicines, who needs to be operated, who needs to be treated. It frustrates me how they do not see the real person behind the disease, how they do not see who he is to us, and how they do not even try to see this real person. More importantly, it frustrates me how it seems that life, with the interplay of chances and choices, makes him appear to be just a victim of circumstances. It frustrates me how I cannot control how others see him, how life seemingly ‘plays’ on us, because with how things are turning out, it seems that we are just puppets that are ever so plain and mundane, bearing no depth and complexity, incapable of choice, and of holding beauty.

I have found out in my genogram and my reflection upon it that I am closest to my father. His condition is that which motivates me to be a doctor. It is not only with regard to the pursuing of medicine but also about the kind of doctor-leader that I am striving to be. I will be an empowering kind of leader, a leader that is people-oriented.

I find a purpose in appreciating everything around me and I also find beauty in the way others appreciate what is important to me. My frustrations in life consist of others not making the meaning out of the things that I make the most meaning out of. I know that this is inevitable and it is normal, but I guess deep inside, I cannot fathom the idea that they do not see the same beauty.

As I have said in my timeline, the purpose of life is to live and to live means to be aware: joyously, divinely, serenely, drunkenly aware.¹ This encompasses not only the self, but also the environment in which I live in. To be aware of our relations with our families and others, of our hobbies and interests, of what keeps us going, of what makes us tick – these things are those that are essential to our living and to our becoming as physician-leaders. Awareness of the self and the Other gives us the context that we work in. It gives us our purpose and it helps us make sense of all the things within and around us. To see that beauty in all things to be aware of all of these complexities, to appreciate these, and to work with this in order to move forward towards a bigger and more meaningful goal: this I believe is the purpose of life. 

Eternities I have found in Samar 

References

1.     Ferriols, Roque, SJ. “Sapagkat ang Pilosopiya ay Ginagawa.” Pambungad sa Metapisika. Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press, 1991.

2.     Guevarra, Roberto O.  “Love Like the Father.” Lecture, The Prodigal Son from Ateneo de Manila University, Quezon City, August, 2013.

3.     Miller, Henry V. Tropic of Cancer. Paris: Obelisk Press, 1934.