"Parang sasabog na yung puso ko" was the only line that I could internally scream off at the top of my head after hearing the sentiments of our indigenous kababayans during our visit last Monday, October 24, at their camp near the College of Fine Arts.

I would like to think about rescuing people analogous to this picture.

Among the first few adjectives that young children learn are the words good and bad. Naturally, these words are what adults use to describe particular actions and situations around children.

“If you obey me, you’re good!”

“If you don’t follow this, you’re bad!”

As children grow up, however, the concept of what’s good or bad becomes increasingly complex. Take the word behave as an example. Adults usually shout this word to children as if they would automatically know what to do. But, really, what does behave exactly mean?

If you try to unravel this word, it can mean a lot of things: stay put, keep quiet, be good, sit still, obey, etc. The list can go on forever. The same thing applies to the words good and bad. But what does that really mean?

Lawrence Kohlberg, a proponent of Moral Development, once made a story called the “Heinz Dilemma” which perfectly portrays how baffling and fuzzy the line between what is good or what is bad really is.

An experience is an enchanting thing.

As I read this line, at this very moment, each passing second adds up to the records of my personal experiences; my own story; my own history. And just like any other stories and histories, I believe that experiences are also categorized in different genres and seasons, respectively.

There are some experiences that are seemingly insignificant; events that I barely noticed, I couldn't even remember they actually happened. And then, there are some events in my life that are too embarrassing to share, but too valuable to forget. Lastly, there are those horrible incidents that I tried to distort in my mind, leading me to believe the illusion that those events didn't happen, or at least, happened differently. But late at night, when I was all alone, it wasn't just those events that had left me breathless, awake, and miserable. It was because of the lie that at some point, actually became the truth to me.

The weight of every happening in my life differs. The same applies to everyone else. It's a universal thing. Some experiences cut deep, others scratch, while most do nothing at all. Regardless of that, one thing is for sure: everything matters. Everything is relevant.

You might not agree with me. It's okay. Sometimes, I don't agree with myself either. But let me ask you to stop, and breathe for a minute. Think about the time when you have spent an hour or so watching the television. It was an experience; a rather irrelevant one, you may say. But have you ever wondered what would have happened if you did something productive, other than watching TV? Have you thought about the effect of what you have watched to your mental or emotional state? Have you ever wondered what things you "might" have accomplished then? Maybe now, you should be done with your pending responsibilities. Perhaps what you have watched has changed your perspective on important matters. Or maybe instead of six hours of sleep, you had seven. You never knew, and you will never know, because it already happened. It's in the past.

You see, every experience in our life equates to a single domino. Put together, they can easily influence or impact another experience, one way or another. So it doesn't really matter whether one experience was dull, or breathtaking. It all boils down to the connection that binds them. You can't single out an experience from the others. It doesn't work that way.

From the "Psychodynamic Perspective" of Psychology, it was said that who you are now is an accumulation of your past. For those who have built a great foundation in their early years, this is good news to them. But for those who aren't proud of their actions, this is disheartening.

I belong in that latter group. I used to regret. I used to weep at night crying out to God the question why?

"Why did certain encounters have to happen?" "Why did I have to deal with these challenges?" "Why did I have to be so stupid?" "Why didn't God guide me?" And then soon enough, the most fundamental question hit me: "Why me?"

These open-ended questions have bothered me for a long time. I haven't necessarily found an answer to those questions, but the words that was revealed to me later in my life was more than enough to keep me going: