What is Life?

(An Essay By A 16-Year-Old)

Updated on July 12, 2016

I wrote this essay in 1962 at the age of 16 when I was a junior in high school. It was
published in the local newspaper. I have shared this essay with people I have met in
every phase of my life. Since it is an evergreen message with a universal theme, I
now share it with you. Keep in mind that I was only 16 with I penned it with my own
hand.

As defined in most dictionaries, life is a period of existence, but to me life is not just
that. It is a way of living and life is living itself. It is loyalty, love, hope, time,
patience, courage, faith, strength, enjoyment, smiles, perseverance, happiness and
all of the other beautiful things we often think about.

Some people might not know it, but the happiness of our lives depends on the
quality of our thoughts. I do not exactly mean that a person who always keeps an
idle mind is not living, but I do mean that he is only half living. Half living is merely a
period of existence; not the way of fruitful living. In this brief essay, I will give my
opinion of the way I believe a much happier life can be lived
Source

To begin with, the way of living deals with our thoughts. We are what we think we
are. We are as old as we feel, as rich as our imagination, as strong as our faith, and
as weak as our fears. It is these things that make up life for us; it is our mind that
makes the world and our minds are exactly what we make them.

Many of us are are looking for the bright side of life, but there are still those who
lead a dull, miserable life. These people are usually too weak to change to the
bright side. They are too weak because they think only in terms of themselves. They
always try to get what they can from life without adding anything to it. They treat
life like a slot machine, putting in a little and always hoping to hit the jackpot.

Some of us are just here living day after day without any special purpose. That's
really not the way to live. Living without a purpose is a wasteful way to spend our
lives. This means that we are only occupying space and watching time slowly drift
away from us.

Have you ever noticed a person who is concerned with the contribution he can
make, how much he can give, and how much he can add to life? Usually that person
is always wise, happy, and has more inner peace.

We have to help others to be happy. Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "Happiness is
like a perfume; you cannot give it to others without getting a few drops on yourself."
am a Filipinoinheritor of a glorious past, hostage to the uncertain future. As such I
must prove equal to a two-fold taskthe task of meeting my responsibility to the
past, and the task of performing my obligation to the future.

I sprung from a hardy race, child many generations removed of ancient Malayan
pioneers. Across the centuries the memory comes rushing back to me: of brownskinned men putting out to sea in ships that were as frail as their hearts were stout.
Over the sea I see them come, borne upon the billowing wave and the whistling
wind, carried upon the mighty swell of hopehope in the free abundance of new land
that was to be their home and their childrens forever.

This is the land they sought and found. Every inch of shore that their eyes first set
upon, every hill and mountain that beckoned to them with a green-and-purple
invitation, every mile of rolling plain that their view encompassed, every river and
lake that promised a plentiful living and the fruitfulness of commerce, is a hallowed
spot to me.

By the strength of their hearts and hands, by every right of law, human and divine,
this land and all the appurtenances thereofthe black and fertile soil, the seas and
lakes and rivers teeming with fish, the forests with their inexhaustible wealth in wild
life and timber, the mountains with their bowels swollen with mineralsthe whole of
this rich and happy land has been, for centuries without number, the land of my
fathers. This land I received in trust from them and in trust will pass it to my
children, and so on until the world is no more.

I am a Filipino. In my blood runs the immortal seed of heroesseed that flowered

down the centuries in deeds of courage and defiance. In my veins yet pulses the
same hot blood that sent Lapulapu to battle against the first invader of this land,
that nerved Lakandula in the combat against the alien foe, that drove Diego Silang
and Dagohoy into rebellion against the foreign oppressor.

That seed is immortal. It is the self-same seed that flowered in the heart of Jose
Rizal that morning in Bagumbayan when a volley of shots put an end to all that was
mortal of him and made his spirit deathless forever, the same that flowered in the
hearts of Bonifacio in Balintawak, of Gergorio del Pilar at Tirad Pass, of Antonio Luna
at Calumpit; that bloomed in flowers of frustration in the sad heart of Emilio
Aguinaldo at Palanan, and yet burst fourth royally again in the proud heart of
Manuel L. Quezon when he stood at last on the threshold of ancient Malacaan
Palace, in the symbolic act of possession and racial vindication.

The seed I bear within me is an immortal seed. It is the mark of my manhood, the
symbol of dignity as a human being. Like the seeds that were once buried in the
tomb of Tutankhamen many thousand years ago, it shall grow and flower and bear
fruit again. It is the insignia of my race, and my generation is but a stage in the
unending search of my people for freedom and happiness.

I am a Filipino, child of the marriage of the East and the West. The East, with its
languor and mysticism, its passivity and endurance, was my mother, and my sire
was the West that came thundering across the seas with the Cross and Sword and
the Machine. I am of the East, an eager participant in its spirit, and in its struggles
for liberation from the imperialist yoke. But I also know that the East must awake
from its centuried sleep, shake off the lethargy that has bound his limbs, and start
moving where destiny awaits.

For I, too, am of the West, and the vigorous peoples of the West have destroyed
forever the peace and quiet that once were ours. I can no longer live, a being apart
from those whose world now trembles to the roar of bomb and cannon-shot. I
cannot say of a matter of universal life-and-death, of freedom and slavery for all
mankind, that it concerns me not. For no man and no nation is an island, but a part
of the main, there is no longer any East and Westonly individuals and nations
making those momentous choices which are the hinges upon which history resolves.

At the vanguard of progress in this part of the world I standa forlorn figure in the
eyes of some, but not one defeated and lost. For, through the thick, interlacing
branches of habit and custom above me, I have seen the light of the sun, and I
know that it is good. I have seen the light of justice and equality and freedom, my
heart has been lifted by the vision of democracy, and I shall not rest until my land
and my people shall have been blessed by these, beyond the power of any man or
nation to subvert or destroy.

I am a Filipino, and this is my inheritance. What pledge shall I give that I may prove
worthy of my inheritance? I shall give the pledge that has come ringing down the
corridors of the centuries, and it shall be compounded of the joyous cries of my
Malayan forebears when first they saw the contours of this land loom before their
eyes, of the battle cries that have resounded in every field of combat from Mactan
to Tirad Pass, of the voices of my people when they sing:

Land of the morning,

Child of the sun returning

Neer shall invaders

Trample thy sacred shore.

Out of the lush green of these seven thousand isles, out of the heartstrings of
sixteen million people all vibrating to one song, I shall weave the mighty fabric of
my pledge. Out of the songs of the farmers at sunrise when they go to labor in the
fields, out of the sweat of the hard-bitten pioneers in Mal-lig and Koronadal, out of
the silent endurance of stevedores at the piers and the ominous grumbling of
peasants in Pampanga, out of the first cries of babies newly born and the lullabies
that mothers sing, out of the crashing of gears and the whine of turbines in the
factories, out of the crunch of plough-shares upturning the earth, out of the limitless
patience of teachers in the classrooms and doctors in the clinics, out of the tramp of
soldiers marching, I shall make the pattern of my pledge:

I am a Filipino born to freedom, and I shall not rest until freedom shall have been
added unto my inheritancefor myself and my children and my childrens children
forever.

Why the Filipino is SPECIAL

Ed Lapiz
Filipinos are Brown. Their color is in the center of human racial strains. This point is
not an attempt at racism, but just for many Filipinos to realize that our color should
not be a source of or reason for inferiority complex. While we pine for a fair
complexion, the white people are religiously tanning themselves, whenever they
could, under the sun or some artificial light, just to approximate the Filipino
complexion.
Filipinos are a touching people. We have lots of love and are not afraid to show it.
We almost inevitably create human chains with our perennial akbay (putting an arm
around another shoulder), hawak (hold), yakap (embrace), himas (caressing stroke),
kalabit (touch with the tip of the finger), kalong (sitting on someone elses lap), etc.
We are always reaching out, always seeking interconnection.
Filipinos are linguists. Put a Filipino in any city, any town around the world. Give him
a few months or even weeks and he will speak the local language there. Filipinos are
adept at learning and speaking languages. In fact, it is not uncommon for Filipinos
to speak at least three: his dialect, Filipino, and English. Of course, a lot speak an
added language, be it Chinese, Spanish or, if he works abroad, the language of his
host country.
In addition, Tagalog is not sexist. While many conscious and enlightened
people of today are just by now striving to be politically correct with their
language and, in the process, bend to absurd depths in coining gender sensitive
words, Tagalog has, since time immemorial, evolved gender-neutral words like
asawa (husband or wife), anak (son or daughter), magulang (father or mother),
kapatid (brother or sister), biyenan (father-in-law or mother-in-law), manugang (son
or daughter-in-law), bayani (hero or heroine), etc. Our languages and dialects are
advanced and, indeed, sophisticated! It is no small wonder that Jose Rizal, the
quintessential Filipino, spoke some twenty-two languages!
Filipinos are groupists. We love human interaction and company. We always
surround ourselves with people and we hover over them, too. According to Dr.
Patricia Licuanan, a psychologist from Ateneo and Miriam College, an average
Filipino would have and know at least 300 relatives.

At work, we live bayanihan (mutual help); at play, we want a kalaro (playmate)

more than laruan (toy). At socials, our invitations are open and it is more common
even for guests to invite and bring in other guests. In transit, we do not want to be
separated from our group. So what do we do when there is no more space in a
vehicle?
Kalung-kalong! (Sit on one another). No one would ever suggest splitting a group
and waiting for another vehicle with more space!
Filipinos are weavers. One look at our baskets, mats, clothes, and other crafts will
reveal the skill of the Filipino weaver and his inclination to weaving. This art is a
metaphor of the Filipino trait. We are social weavers. We weave theirs into ours that
we all become parts of one another. We place a lot of premium on pakikisama
(getting along) and pakikipagkapwa (relating). Two of the worst labels, walang
pakikipagkapwa (inability to relate), will be avoided by the Filipino at almost any
cost.
We love to blend and harmonize with people, we like to include them in our tribe,
in our family-and we like to be included in other peoples families, too.

Therefore, we call our friends mother nanay or mommy; we call a friends sister ate
(eldest sister), and so on. We even call strangers tia (aunt) or tio (uncle), tatang
(grandfather), etc.
So extensive is our social openness and interrelations that we have specific title for
extended relations like hipag (sister-in-laws spouse), balae (child-in-laws parents),
inaanak (godchild),ninong/ninang (godparents) kinakapatid (godparents child), etc.
In addition, we have the profound ka institution, loosely translated as equal to the
same kind as in kasama (of the same company), kaisa (of the same cause),
kapanalig (of the same belief), etc. In our social fiber, we treat other people as coequals.
Filipinos, because of their social weaving traditions, make for excellent team
workers.
Filipinos are adventurers. We have a tradition of separation. Our myths and legends
speak of heroes and heroines who almost always get separated from their families
and loved ones and are taken by circumstances to far-away lands where they find
wealth or power.
Our Spanish colonial history is filled with separations caused by the reduccion
(hamleting), and the forced migration to build towns, churches, fortresses or
galleons. American occupation enlarged the space of Filipino wandering, including
America, and there are documented evidences of Filipino presence in America as far
back as 1587.
Now, Filipinos compose the worlds largest population of overseas workers,
populating and sometimes threshing major capitals, minor towns and even
remote villages around the world. Filipino adventurism has made us todays citizens
of the world, bringing the bagoong (salty shrimp paste), pansit (sauted noodles),
siopao (meat-filled dough), kare-kare (peanut-flavored dish), dinuguan (innards

cooked in pork blood), balut (unhatched duck egg), and adobo (meat vinaigrette),
including the tabo (ladle) and tsinelas (slippers) all over the world.
Filipinos are excellent at adjustments and improvisation, managing to recreate their
home, or to feel at home anywhere.
Filipinos have Pakiramdam (deep feeling/discernment). We know how to feel what
others feel, sometimes even anticipate what they will feel. Being manhid (dense) is
one of the worst labels anyone could get and will therefore, avoid at all cost. We
know when a guest is hungry though the insistence on being full is assured.
We can tell if people are lovers even if they are miles apart. We know if a person is
offended though he may purposely smile. We know because we feel. In our
pakikipagkapwa(relating), we get not only to wear another mans shoe but also his
heart.
We have a superbly developed and honored gift of discernment, making us
excellent leaders, counselors, and go-betweens.
Filipinos are very spiritual. We are transcendent. We transcend the physical world,
see the unseen and hear the unheard. We have a deep sense of kaba (premonition)
and kutob (hunch). A Filipino wife will instinctively feel her husband or child is going
astray, whether or not telltale signs present themselves.

Filipino spirituality makes him invoke divine presence or intervention at nearly every
bend of his journey. Rightly or wrongly, Filipinos are almost always acknowledging,
invoking or driving away spirits into and from their lives. Seemingly trivial or even
incoherent events can take on spiritual significance and will be given such space or
consideration.
The Filipino has a sophisticated, developed pakiramdam. The Filipino, though
becoming more and more modern (hence, materialistic) is still very spiritual in
essence. This inherent and deep spirituality makes the Filipino, once correctly
Christianized, a major exponent of the faith.
Filipinos are timeless. Despite the nearly half-a-millennium encroachment of the
western clock into our lives, Filipinos-unless on very formal or official functions-still
measure time not with hours and minutes but with feeling. This style is ingrained
deep in our psyche. Our time is diffused, not framed. Our appointments are defined
by umaga (morning), tanghali (noon ), hapon (afternoon), or gabi (evening).
Our most exact time reference is probably katanghaliang-tapat (high noon), which
still allows many minutes of leeway. That is how Filipino trysts and occasions are
timed: there is really no definite time.
A Filipino event has no clear-cut beginning nor ending. We have a fiesta, but there is
bisperas (eve), a day after the fiesta is still considered a good time to visit. The
Filipino Christmas is not confined to December 25th; it somehow begins months
before December and extends up to the first days of January.
Filipinos say good-bye to guests first at the head of the stairs, then down to the
descamo (landing), to the entresuelo (mezzanine), to the pintuan (doorway), to the

tarangkahan (gate), and if the departing persons are to take public transportation,
up to the bus stop or bus station.
In a way, other peoples tardiness and extended stays can really be annoying, but
this peculiarity is the same charm of Filipinos who, being governed by timelessness,
can show how to find more time to be nice, kind, and accommodating than his
prompt and exact brothers elsewhere.
Filipinos are Spaceless. As in the concept of time, the Filipino concept of space is not
numerical. We will not usually express expanse of space with miles or kilometers
but with feelings in how we say malayo (far )or malapit (near).
Alongside with numberlessness, Filipino space is also boundless. Indigenous culture
did not divide land into private lots but kept it open for all to partake of its
abundance.
The Filipino has avidly remained spaceless in many ways. The interior of the
bahay-kubo (hut) can easily become receiving room, sleeping room, kitchen, dining
room, chapel, wake parlor, etc. Depending on the time of the day or the needs of
the moment. The same is true with the bahay na bato (stone house). Space just
flows into the next space that the divisions between the sala, caida, comedor, or
vilada may only be faintly suggested by overhead arches of filigree. In much the
same way, Filipino concept of space can be so diffused that one s party may creep
into and actually expropriate the street! A family business like a sari-sari store or
talyer may extend to the sidewalk and street. Provincial folks dry palayan (rice
grain) on the highways! Religious groups of various persuasions habitually and
matter-of-factly commandeer the streets for processions and parades.
It is not uncommon to close a street to accommodate private functions. Filipinos
eat. sleep, chat, socialize, quarrel, even urinate, nearly everywhere or just
anywhere!
Spacelessness, in the face of modern, especially urban life, can be unlawful and
may really be counter-productive. On the other hand, Filipino spacelessness, when
viewed from his context, is just another manifestation of his spiritually and
communal values. Adapted well to todays context, which may mean unstoppable
urbanization, Filipino spacelessness may even be the answer and counter balance
to humanitys greed, selfishness and isolation.
So what makes the Filipino special? We are brown, spiritual, timeless, spaceless,
linguists, groupists, weavers, adventurers. Seldom do all these profound qualities
find personification in a people. Filipinos should allow and should be allowed to
contribute their special traits to the worldwide community of men- but first, we
should know and like ourselves.