De Rerum Natura: Amorsolo

MANILA, December 24, 2004 (STAR) DE RERUM NATURA By Maria Isabel Garcia -
"How would you like to be remembered?" asked an interviewer. He replied:
"That is an impossible question. Remembrance after my death implies it is
not up to me so why should I even worry about it?" That is one of the
deepest and lasting lessons that I learned from the original writer of
this column who wrote 11 columns before he passed away two and a half
years ago. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense since
gratitude is really more for us who are left behind to have a sense of
indebtedness to an unbroken chain of life so we could enrich and make
more meaningful our own portion of it while we are still here. Gratitude
is also what gives us inspiration to extend ourselves to others and to
the world, without seeking recognition for it. There is nothing more
poignant and profound than a good deed not waiting a second more to be
recognized or reciprocated. This got me into thinking about memory and
gratitude and how with the season, they are more pronounced and
collective. My Christmas columns have always departed from their weekly
science/nature theme. Memory and gratitude as a theme for this one will be
a timely and worthy exception. If there is anything I learned from
writing these weekly science/nature columns this year, it is about how
the brain works - how it creates, stores and retrieves memory. Memory is
what makes us who we are. Memory is what holds the people, places, events
and ideas we should be grateful for. And since gratitude depends on
memory, we owe it to ourselves, to others and to life, that we dig deep
in our minds to realize bits and pieces of our private and collective
lives that make the same lives more meaningful now, even if not
necessarily richer or easier as some would hope. It is also important
that the scope of your memory not be wholly defined by what media, print
or broadcast, kidnaps to store into your memory, with their startling
visual images and deliberately loud voices inviting you to have your
fifteen minutes of fame. There are no cameras and microphones in much of
life and the universe, no matter how many reality TV shows they come up
with. We can only approach our own lives and the rest of the universe
with our minds and hearts, through our sense of discovery, exploration
and curiosity. Not having a camera, a microphone or even a column to
write about it does not make any one person's dance less meaningful. The
attempts of public school teachers I have worked with like Doris de Leon
and Sheila del Pilar (I make a rare exception and mention names in this
column) of Antipolo, thrice daily, to impart science to classes
consisting of 90 each put to shame my weekly attempt to make sense of a
science idea in these columns. They are no less real or any less
interesting or heroic than those "challenges" celebrities and other
prize-contenders are made to do on TV. Newspaper and TV headlines should
not totally define the memories of your lifetime. I think we owe it to
our own sense of being alive and to others to deepen our own sense of
gratitude by expanding our memory. Recently, I deliberately went on a
personal quest to do just this. I started with Amorsolo.

I spent a long time looking at a painting of Amorsolo when I recently
visited the new Ayala Museum. I went there hoping to overrun my senses
with painted "memories" of great Filipino artists who deeply loved this
country. I looked at the nameless figures in Amorsolo's paintings and
juxtaposed them with some of the real farmers, plantation and other rural
workers I have had the chance of meeting in my life. I even stretched it
to the ones who work the land to feed the rest of the nation but who
remain nameless and faceless when we give thanks as we only remember
those who become famous and who are lucky enough to get the attention of
the media. I also remembered a video clip that the Ayala theaters showed
during the centennial year before every film they showed. It featured
real footage of wars our forefathers fought. I noticed one man who seemed
old and frail, dressed only in a sack cloth and a hat, holding a bolo,
charging barefoot toward the enemy. He was one of countless unnamed
Filipino souls who did not even know that a camera caught his last
seconds, who did not even ask to be remembered but who died so we could,
as a nation, have a shot at being free. This moved me to renew my
personal gratitude to our land and our people, to those whose most candid
acts involved giving up their own lives so we can have a shot at ours
now. These nameless ones and their unmonitored acts of selflessness and
kindness continue till now. The same goes for the dedicated teachers and
scientists who still choose to remain in this country, despite the most
difficult academic conditions, to save us from the scariest and most
dangerous state of all which is ignorance. It is to them who choose and
create their spaces for life and growth for themselves and others without
getting embroiled in the politics of remembrance that I give my profound
thanks for this Christmas column.

A recent guest also reminded me of this lesson of being grateful for the
moment and learning to let go. A falcon, a European kestler, recently
flew into my living room and "sat" on my sofa and would not leave. It
would not even fly around the house even if it did not have any visible
injuries. After the initial fascination subsided and I could think
clearly, I put it in a laundry basket with holes (since I could not find a
cage big enough for it) and drove it to the Wildlife Rescue Center. It
turned out that this raptor migrated from Europe during the winter there
and chose my couch as a stop in its long journey. I left it there where
it would regain strength and be set free in a couple of days. I am
grateful for its visit for reminding me that wild peace still lives among
us and for a most entertaining episode in my life. Most of all, for being
blessed with a presence that teaches one the kind of love that recognizes
the right season for everything: when to hold on, how to be grateful and
when to let go. I don't know what one calls that kind of love. Amorsolo
is I think a good name for it.

With gratitude, I wish you a Merry Christmas.

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From: lquesada@newsflash.org