I was eleven years old. Still ordinary.
Kids watch movies. Inspired by change.
Growing up Filipino, and being born in a country that incites violence, poverty and hardships it allowed me to gain an understanding. It was my love of Filipino culture that allowed me to continue studying it. Since I couldn't be around it often, movies was my way of learning my language and my culture.
At nine years old, I started to ask my parents if I could learn Tagalog again; and they would guide me as I tried to relearn my language that I hadn't spoken since I was 4 years old. However, I had been watching Filipino films since I was young because my mother was obsessed with Sharon Cuneta, a famous Filipina Actress - My mother will claim that she went to school with her, but that is a story for another time.
There is one particular Filipino movie that I had watched multiple times, and this time I was watching it with my grandmother. Though I had watched it multiple times, there was something that made this viewing much more different than the other times I had viewed this movie.
I was angry.
I was frustrated.
Tears streamed from my face.
(Speaking Tagalog, the native language of the Philippines, translated for English)
"I want to go to the Philippines and kill that man that killed the main character."
At the end of the movie, the main character had been shot multiple times; and was slowly fading about to leave his love behind. Tears, yelling and anger filled me.
"He needs to die. I need to go to the Philippines; and he needs to die."
"KILL HIM."
In confusion, my grandmother started to look at me which attracted my mother's attention who came into the room sprinting. She gawked at me, and with an inpatient tone asked me what was wrong.
Again, I said "This actor needs to die. He killed him."
My mother was speechless. "Jay, you should stop crying it is only a movie"
Still frustrated, and in disbelief replied, "I don't care if it is a movie. He needs to die."
My grandmother was amused that I wanted to avenge the main character - real name of the actor, Bong Revilla - from a death that didn't happen. My mother continued to soothe me.
"Think rationally. Are you going to kill somebody that isn't real?"
"No," I rationally replied. I was processing my emotions while slowly softening my tears.
Mom then sternly asked, "And, if this did happen would you kill somebody so that you will spend your life in prison?"
"No," tears coming to a halt.
"Okay, then just calm yourself. And, remember that it is just a movie." Mom then left the room as I stopped the VHS as I gathered my senses.
I then left the living room, and headed to my bedroom. I then thought to myself that my mother was right. Movie or not, killing another person didn't prove anything. It only proved my insecurity that I didn't want anything different than what had already happened.
This memory of childhood indifference, agony was sparked by recent events. Recent events that sparked a philosophical cycle that people miss every day.
It is apparent that it is missed every day, because present day proves what my memories sparked.
Memories of indifference.
ONE MONTH AFTER THIS POST WAS CREATED....
That was my thought process when I saw the unjust murder of a black man being killed by a police officer almost a month earlier. I had a moment of indifference that could have been confused for a moment of caring when in reality I wouldn't have been any better than the black man who had died.
When "Black Lives Matter" movement happened, I understood their pain. I understood my pain. The pain of events that happened in my life where I wanted to eliminate people who have done things unjustly towards me. I wanted to kill them thinking as a way to take away the pain. Simultaneously releasing the tension, it wouldn't have prevented the consequences that would have followed.
Yes, I am speaking of a specific unnecessary event that happened on the family vacation. It is much more than just an instant. It is the thought that comes with that instant.
Whether that thought be good or bad it can change that instant quickly. Sometimes it becomes subconscious to the point that it can become destructive.
The human soul is never destructive, but when a moment of hateful respite takes hold that soul becomes tarnished replacing that person's dignity with something else. Something not real.
We talk about emotions as if it were real, but is it as real as compassion? I don't think think so. This is my rational.
Compassion is the essence of both the encompassing nature of why we act and the emotion that helps us understand that act. When a person helps feed the hungry, that person can feel a sense of joy that not only lasts in that moment, but resonates throughout his life. But, why?
It is because that conscious mind was allowed to make that person think in that very moment; hence, savoring that moment which ingrained into their soul. It then becomes everlasting.
This is opposite of hate.
Hate is an instant clouded by thoughts that were said or were done, because whatever caused that anger will fuel that person's soul. Hence, hate takes away the nature and personality which are the key ingredients of compassion.
It is interesting to note that when a person is angry many times those thoughts are fleeting moments that can usually be forgotten through an apology. However, it is opposite for compassion where those moments are much more memorable.
Hence, I learned this valuable lesson this past month that I have to try to live in compassion rather than hate. Because hate is the perfect killer.
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