Great Teacher Ponti

(google image)

Yesterday, I had a short but profound chance encounter with the legendary sir Ponti, one of my greatest teachers and mentors in CLSU. I say "greatest" not to render a cliche but to convey a reality. I say "mentor" not to make a cute statement but to make a fitting description of what he was (and is) to me.

We were both riding our motorcycles when we crossed paths at the intersection road near the CLSU Chapel where he'd turned right and I'd turned left. He was with his little daughter. We stopped for a brief chat. And since we were in the middle of a busy intersection, we only had the chance to ask each other how's it going.

I am more than happy to meet him after a long time. When I was hired to teach at the department of Social Sciences after my graduation, I had the chance to work alongside him for one semester. It was such a privilege. But shortly thereafter, he went out to study and finish his masters. Not that he still needed it, but university protocols require it. Some people don't need multiple degrees to be able to teach, and teach effectively. For me, what sir Ponti teaches from his big heart is more than sufficient. It is larger than life.

When he came back to teach at the university just last semester, I was already out of the academe and into a new work. I didn't realize it until that meeting yesterday that I was not able to inform him that I already left.

The student left without telling the master.

"Balita ko nasa PhilRice ka na?", he asked in his usual booming and fatherly voice.

"Yes sir", was all I can say. 

I know he was about to tell a story but we were in an awkward place and we're both going somewhere. So he just said with full affirmation, "Sige pagbutihan mo ha." And it took just that to calm the dragons of doubt.

The teacher, indeed, has appeared.

And here's the incurable romanticist student, again.

Well, it's not a romanticized cum intellectualized narrative. That simple encounter was profound not because of some engaging intellectual conversation and down-to-earth discussion of some philosophical issues as is characterized by sir Ponti's classroom lectures; but it was profound because of the honest sincerity that characterizes his life.

What I like best, or better admire, about sir Ponti is his down-to-earth persona that just tugs into you. His positive sense of self is contagious enough to make you feel sure about yourself as well. His sincere appreciation of talent and honest affirmation of strengths will make one defy even his or her greatest limitation. He was one of the reasons why I didn't want to remain a mediocre student who, according to him, has "a boring existence". I loved being a SocSci since then.

Plus, I'll never forget his engaging classroom teaching style. That classic, legendary helluva adventure in Philosophy which becomes alive at his words and descriptions and narratives. His lectures are a journey in itself. There's no better way of learning. His distinct teaching style was highly affecting.

It was a style I tried to emulate when I became a teacher myself. Simple but profound. And full of heart.

And thanks to the great teacher Ponti, I had such a wonderful teaching experience that will be cherished and remembered.

For as long as the dragons live, the student, who have now become a warrior, shall press on.

Monsters

(Google image)

It's Nietzsche, the philosopher. The one who believed that God is dead. The one who believed in the Ubermensch--the philosophical concept of the "man is superb" and that man himself is the "higher being". Long before Superman, Ubermensch. Thus Spoke Zarathustra.

Today, Nietzsches are everywhere. Far more in today's modern and scientific world. A world slowly traversing in a godless course. Nietzsches who believe that man is invincible, than man is supreme. That our will is sovereign. Loyal disciples of the skeptical search for truth and meaning. Nietzsches who out-rightly deny the existence of a deity, of an all-powerful and all-knowing Being. Their minds not able to fathom that grand majesty.

In their search for what they thought were monsters, they become monsters themselves.

Nietzsche's long dead. And God is alive.

And forever will be.

What the Mirage Taught Me

There’s one interesting thing about mirage that I am most fascinated about. It is that they tricked you of being real and of being there, yet after approaching it to have a closer look, they suddenly fade away. And just like that, they disappear and gone forever. Makes you wonder what they are and where they are going.

Well, life sometimes is like that. You come to a point where you just realize that some things in life are only there temporarily. Little objects or some phenomena that are transitory, slowly fading away like a haze or a wisp. In a blink of an eye or in a heartbeat, they are gone forever.

Ephemeral. 

Life itself is like that—ephemeral. Philosophers call it existential. Pragmatics has an aversion to its inevitability. The bible renders this matter-of-fact: it is just a passing breath; a flower that quickly fades. This is all liberating when one internalizes its profound meaning. And I am at a constant loss for meaning when faced with such lofty ideas.

All I know is this: I don’t want my life to be a mirage. I don’t want the world or people to say, “Is it really there, or is it not?” I will honor my existence in this life—no matter how transitory it really is—by making the world realize that I was here.

And as one nugget of wisdom says: I am but a speck in the vastness, but I am here to make a dent in this universe.