humanalogy

The Episode.

Today I spoke with a man from the NSO (National Statistics Office) to inquire about a particular document I needed to obtain.  Prior to even making the call to the NSO, I already had an idea what the document was and what it looked like – and that it was not a typical NSO document most citizens acquire.  So in this regard I was prepared to pass through the eye of a needle, so to speak, to get this particularly rare piece of printed record.  I was not, however, prepared for the reception and manner of customer service that greeted me on the phone.

When I had asked about the requirements and processes to obtain the document I needed, the man on the other end of the line insisted that I must have meant another document, as he had never heard of the one I was referring to.  And when I had explained that I knew of the document he believed I needed, and that no, I was definitely sure that wasn’t it, he proceeded to give me a lecture on the impossibility of the document-in-question even existing; that there was no such thing, that I was surely mistaken, that again, it must be the other document he had told me about. 

Now naturally I found this entire bit of chatter rather absurd, because as I had already mentioned, I had seen an actual hardcopy of the document and thus knew it existed.  And so I pushed forward as any self-respecting civilian would: I power-tripped. As I stood my ground, I raised my voice (ashamedly, I must confess), and thereafter exercised my “rights” as an intelligent, educated woman to inform this man that he could not push me around and mislead me with erroneous information.  Not only did I argue my case incessantly, but I made it perfectly and stringently clear that I knew what I was talking about and that he most obviously did not. 

The Epiphany.

The whole sordid affair lasted merely a few minutes, but after it had concluded (and I was subsequently referred to someone else in the NSO that may know different from the original man I spoke with), I felt gut-wrenchingly awful.  In just under 3 minutes, I had managed to increase my blood pressure tenfold, intimidate an employee of the Philippine government, and come up with nothing more than what I started with.  And thus prompted the inevitable (and highly routine) post mortem questions: What was this whole thing all about?  Why did I get so easily agitated?  Why was he so insufferably rude in the first place?

And then, it hit. A simple yet profound explanation for most of man’s squabbles and conflicts was the very same cause of the effect I had just experienced.  And no, I’m not talking about romantic love of the epic variety. I’m talking about the need to have, or know, all the answers. 

I must admit, I am often guilty of this tendency, the tendency to know it all.   And when I think about it long and hard, I also have to admit that many of my friends are too. Heck, even people I barely know can be guilty of this, as evidenced by my most recent encounter with the lovely man from the NSO with all the answers.  How promptly did he need to demonstrate his all-encompassing knowledge of the NSO menu of records; and as surely as he was flaunting his expertise, I was breast-beating to my heart’s content that I knew better than he did.  It’s a fruitless game people having been playing since time immemorial.

Ah yes, it isn’t only in this day and age that the concept of information as power has been acknowledged, and abused.  Many a crusade and war have been waged in the hopes of discovering and inheriting knowledge that makes one invincible.  Since even before time began, the story of Adam and Eve lustfully eating of the Tree of Knowledge in order that they may “know what God knows” has been a grave albeit repetitive warning given to mankind.  So why then are we still so hungry for it, even after all this time?  Perhaps, as with many things, it’s simply human nature.

The Epilogue.

I find humor in the coincidence that the abbreviation for Know It All is KIA, and that there is a rather notorious means of transport called the KIA Pride.  How remarkable I must say, for something so seemingly random to encapsulate quite impeccably my thoughts on this subject: that Pride is really the driving force, the ultimate carnal need we are satisfying, when we insist that we know it all.  Perhaps in the future we can make more effort to humbly realize that while we obviously cannot always KIA, we can most definitely always have a POV.

I’ve always admired people who carry a different perspective about life.  People who see the glass half full, who learn to laugh at mistakes, who push on when everyone else would give up.  And in this day and age when jadedness and cynicism reign supreme, the right perspective makes all the difference. 

So I decided to figure out how this works exactly.  I began to observe the happy people around me and made a discovery.  I noticed that there are certain character traits that underlie those whose outlooks on life are light and optimistic.  It seems that people who have these attributes, those who practice the Art of Happiness, have a better chance of surfacing through the muck that life throws their way.  If you find that you do one or more of those enumerated below, then I have faith that you’re on the road to genuine happiness.  If not, then I sincerely recommend you start adapting these.  I guarantee the outcome will not disappoint.

Laugh out loud.  I know. It seems devastatingly contrived.  But as the movie “The Ugly Truth” says, a fake laugh can be just as good as a fake orgasm.  So that means that not only is it something you can practice (and subsequently get good at), it’s also the kind of thing that benefits more than one party.  Think about it.  How many times did you break into a fit of laughter simply because they guy next to you guffawed like there was no tomorrow?  ‘Nuff said.

Act like a kid.  Most people think that naiveté goes hand in hand with stupidity.  Well to that I say, nay!  I know of many people that are intelligent and stealthy, even ruthless in the workforce, and yet when it comes to personal engagements they are giddy as school children.  Seeing the world through a child’s eyes makes one less likely to succumb to the woes of worldly pursuits.  It keeps you from passing unnecessary judgements, counting favors, being overly materialistic or rigidly complicated.  It keeps things simple.

Trust everyone. Trust is possibly the most valuable and rarest commodity amongst human beings.  As they say, once it’s been lost, it is very difficult to get it back.  But what I’ve observed about the happiest people in the world is that this is not a reality for them.  Trust is something they offer freely, unconditionally, and unwaveringly, with no need for anything in return.  In this way, they have no baggage.  Nothing weighs them down and erroneously influences their life choices.  It may seem very dim-witted in real-world practice, but if put into the proper context, it can be a major game-changer.  After all, who would expect this from anyone?  At the end of the day, it’s just about making life less convoluted with superfluous things.  Life would be so much grander without grudge, gripe or revenge.

Don’t care (too much). There is always something to be said about the capricious youth, who needs no past, present, nor future to dictate his endeavours.  He simply lives in the moment, catching life’s curveballs as they come.  Now I’m not saying that you should simply drop everything and throw caution to the wind. There is a distinct difference between being carefree and being careless, with the latter obviously having its own inevitable catastrophes.  But if you would consider not thinking for a while, allowing yourself to be unconcerned and unaffected by what is happening, you begin to want less, need less, expect less.  Don’t try to predict or anticipate.  Be blithe.  And be blissful. 

Dress to impress (yourself).  This is one of my favourites, since very few of us in the world practice it, and that is hardly a surprise.  In a society dominated by haute couture and pop culture, it’s no wonder that we are often all too afraid to make fashionable choices for ourselves, and thus we find our closets filled to the brim with apparel befit for an MTV VJ, not the regular Joe (or Joanne) that we truly are. Hence the misery. Well, I say it’s high time to put a stop to all this.  Dress how you feel, or better yet, how you want to feel, and don’t forget, as Annie always says “you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

Eat right (for you).  Now don’t worry, I won’t get into a sermon about the perils of red meat and the redemption that lies in fruit and veg, but I do think it’s important for you to watch what you scarf down.  After all there’s a reason why the saying goes “you are what you eat.”  So stop punishing yourself for taking that extra bite you shouldn’t have, or sneaking a candy bar in after midnight.  Stop chastising yourself post-consumption, when there’s nothing you can do about it anymore, and start regulating what goes in before it even gets to the table.  Eat to make you feel happy - before, during, and especially after the meal.

Have no agenda.  Ask yourself this: how many times have you gotten upset because “things didn’t go your way.”  The way (no pun intended) I look at it is, if you didn’t have “your way” to begin with, then there wouldn’t be any risk of it not going your way in the first place.  Things would just go on their own way, the way things are really meant to go, and life would happen as it should.  So try dropping the Frank Sinatra I-Did-It-My-Way attitude, and just let things unfold.  When there’s no agenda, there’s no disappointment. 

Be humble.  Socrates once said, “All I know is that I know nothing.”  I find that when people get wrapped up in the eternal balance sheet of what they know versus what they don’t know, it literally ruins them.  They continue feeling tired and frustrated, running a race that they can’t win.  Why do this to yourself?  Why measure yourself against a yardstick you were never meant to measure up to?  No one was meant to know everything, nor was anyone ever expected to be perfect.  So cut yourself some slack, and eat some humble pie.  You’ll find that it’s the most idyllic fare you’ll ever devour, and it always comes with a free upsize of your spirit.

;-)

Now I enter, with an understandable degree of trepidation, the realm of men, as I attempt to explain my theory in its 2^nd instalment.  In this continuation of the “Five People” series, I put forth for digestion the five female archetypes that I believe are integral for every man to come across, in order that his life may have meaning, make sense, and otherwise be of consequence.

I must start by declaring that as I am not a man, I cannot and will not be able to defend any of these hypotheses as based on my own personal experience.  So yes, you are more than welcome to dissect, discern and discourse the following text in a manner and form you deem fit – just don’t hold me accountable for the feelings I may or may not induce.  Again, these are all just theories; foregone conclusions that I have drawn after many a passion-filled conversation with my numerous (albeit not conclusively so) set of male friends.

That said, let us begin.

The Fragile Chick.  Let’s face it.  Nothing brings out the protective, macho-ness in a guy like a girl who needs to be cared for.  It’s instinctive, innate, that a man should safeguard a woman from all the evils the foreboding world may deluge upon her. Hence the Fragile Chick’s existence.  This archetype may come in many forms: the naive virgin, the younger next-door neighbour, the troubled lost little girl, the rebel without a cause.  Even in their most guarded of facades, Fragile Chicks have one thing in common: the need for salvation.  And forever are they indebted to the man that can do this for them.  So, very simply, the Fragile Chick is that rite of passage for men that makes them, well, men.

The Mistake.  Mention any of the commonly-used Mistake labels (needy, nasty, clingy, bitchy, high maintenance, verbally abusive, or simply just abusive) and watch any guy simultaneously space out and cringe.  Given this universal reaction to the Mistake, it may come as a surprise to many that I consider her a pivotal character in the moulding and shaping of a man’s personality.  But it is my opinion that as men are generally thick/dense/obtuse, it stands to reason that it needs an earth-shattering occurrence to really make a dent in their lives.  In this case, the Mistake exists such that a man can realize that not all women are equal, not all pursuits are meant to be undertaken, and that not all wars are winnable.  The Mistake helps a man realize his humanity; that he is not the invincible super-god he once thought he was.  Somewhere out there is a girl that can break him down and ruin his life as fast as you can say “kryptonite”.

The Untouchable.  In every man’s life there is that one girl he cannot, and will never, have.  Whether she be the common girl bud in his guy-dominated group of friends, or the admired unreachable princess that doesn’t know he exists, the Untouchable represents a standard he will never live up to.  This kind of rebuff causes a man to challenge himself and push harder, constantly improving himself to be worthy of such a prize.  Inevitably, pursuing the Untouchable is no longer about getting the girl herself, but becomes more about the chase.  And it’s not a little known fact that every man loves a chase.  After all, in the animal kingdom it is mainly during the chase that we behold the instantly recognizable surge of adrenaline, focus, and stamina.  To wit: the chase gives man his mojo.

The One That Got Away.  This may possibly be the sole archetype that actually induces veritable emotion in any man.  Since time immemorial men have plied and pitied themselves over the regrets of having lost the best catch of their lives.  How they lose these supposedly awe-inspiring specimens of women is beyond me (more so the fact that all men seem to have a knack for losing this ideal girl no matter what the context), but what strikes me is the effect these women seem to have on men.  The One That Got Away is subsequently placed on a pedestal, as a benchmark for all their other relationships.  She’s the girl other women can never live up to, the sacred phantom chick-of-the-past that men hardly want to talk about out loud, the epitome of perfection and flawlessness that give men a yardstick for measuring every girl they date with.

The One (you take home to Mama).  For most men, this is not a woman they’d particularly prefer to meet, at least not immediately in life.  She represents the end of an era, when one was once young and free, and could embark on many a great adventure fit for classic, illustrious literature.  The One, or as I prefer to call her, the Lion Tamer, has the unfathomable ability to mystify a man enough such that he will take her home to meet his parents.  Thereafter spawns the inevitable path to life-long commitment, that is not acutely dreaded by men, but is definitely not considered absolutely necessary.  And though men may never care to admit it, the One exists in his life for a very simple, yet real and enduring truth: to attest that, yes, men are in fact capable of falling in love.

And thus concludes my series.  I do hope you’ve enjoyed it, and that it’s spurned some atypical thoughts and discussions, which it has pleasantly always done for me.

My thanks to the clandestine male contributors who have helped in the piecing together of this 2^nd instalment: Maverick, Iceman, Goose, Boy Pogi and Cube.

;-)

So this is a theory I’ve been working on for a few years now, and for those who know me well enough (ie shared a drink or two), you’ve heard this line-up at least once.  It’s a theory that many may mistakenly assume takes off from the now infamous “The Five People You Meet in Heaven”, but let me begin this blog by clarifying that NO, this has nothing whatsoever to do with that book, and I daresay I even came up with the initial footprint of this theory (circa 1999) before Mitch Albom ever ventured forth toward Heaven (published in 2003).

My theory had been originally dubbed “Five People”, but given the above-mentioned coincidence, and the fact that the theory has evolved and broadened in scope over the past years (which shall be tackled in the 2^nd instalment of this blog), I have temporarily christened it “Cinco Chicos”.  And as the name suggests, it deals with five guys; the five guys I believe each girl must come across in her life to make it consequential.  Below is the list of pivotal archetypes, addressed for the most part to womankind, as it’s easier to explain it as such.

The Carbon Copy.  This is the man that is your duplicate in every way.  He talks like you, walks like you, and even on occasion may dress like you.  He reads the same books, likes the same movies, and cracks (or laughs at) the same jokes.  In short, if you were to have been born a man, you would be him.  The reason this man is of import to your life is because he validates you.  He carries the assurance that your kind of person is needed and valued in the world. He is your affirmation, the person who gives you the confidence that comes with the statement “I am not alone.”

The Best Friend.   This is a bit self-explanatory, as it carries the quintessential definition.  This man is the person you tell everything to, the person who knows you best, the one you run to when things go right, or wrong.  He’s your confidant, your sounding board.  But remember, he is not your duplicate.  He shouldn’t be, because he exists in your life for a very different purpose: to be your check and balance.  As any good self-help book will advise you, a true best friend will tell it to you like it is, maybe mincing words here and there, but otherwise keeping as close to honesty as possible.  This helps you maintain equilibrium in your life and ensures you stay on the right path to wherever it is you’re going.

The Never Was.  Here is when my theory gets a bit interesting.  The Never Was is that person who you will always desire, but never actually obtain.  He’s the “ungettable get”, the “hard to reach”, call him whatever you will.  And deny as you may, I’m sorry to have to tell you that no, you will never have him – at least not completely.  You may have had a taste of what it was like to have him, but because he is your Never Was, there will always be something that prevents a genuine relationship (ie he can’t commit, he has other priorities right now, he needs to find himself first, he’s not looking for anything serious). 

While this may all seem bleak and pessimistic, the truth is that all girls need a guy like this.  Men like this create a benchmark in our lives: someone we are never good enough for, someone we have to keep improving for, someone who will continuously make us doubt our self worth, until we finally see the light and realize with blissful sobriety that he’s just not worth it.  In its most basic twisted form, the Never Was forces us to loath ourselves, so we may learn to love ourselves.

The Soulmate.  This archetype is tricky, as for the first part of my explanation I will borrow from the classic definition and say that, yes, this man is your other half.  He was created from the same soul, and thus shares a part of you that no one else can claim.  But my theory deviates a bit from the norm in that I do not believe your Soulmate is the person you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with.  In fact, I believe the Soulmate is the most dangerous man of all, as everything about him will lead you to believe that he is The One.  When you’re with him you feel complete, whole, and utterly at peace.  There is nothing and no one else you want or need, and often when you’re apart, you’re drawn to each other in some inexplicable and ethereal way.  This wholeness and sense of completeness is exactly the reason why he exists in your life, and why some women spend nearly a lifetime trying to find him.  He gives your life a sense of complacency, a sense of fulfilment.  

But this type of magnetism is both delusive and destructive.  While you may not know it, you’re actually loving yourself more than loving him.  You love him because of how he makes you feel, because of how his presence lights up your life, etc, etc.  It actually suggests a very selfish kind of love.  The far-reaching consequence of which would be a supernova-like implosion where your entire world collapses to revolve only around the two of you.  And everyone knows that living in that kind of a vacuum is never healthy.

Thankfully though, as with any dark cloud, there is always a silver lining.  And in this case, the selfish nature of loving your Soulmate does have its merits. If you can find the will to push through that ever-so-tempting, love-drunk bubble, you’ll discover that wonderful free world of loving beyond yourself and surpassing your emotional voids.

The One.   And finally here we are, the happily ever after.  Yes, this is where the story gets good.  This is where I tell you that there IS someone out there created and meant only for you, and hence he is called the One.  And unlike the Soulmate, the One doesn’t cause you to turn inwardly to satisfy your emotive needs.  The One affects you in the most contrasting manner, compelling you to break your personal boundaries, to live for someone else, to think about and love someone entirely outside of you.  This man is the one that brings about the effortless and time-honored virtue of selfless, unconditional love. The man that will make you feel completely alive and salient, just because he exists.

As an epilogue, I’d like to assert my belief that it’s conceivable a woman may meet and have more than one Carbon Copy, Best Friend, or Never Was in her lifetime.  After all, these three men exist to complement a woman’s current life stage and emotional outlook. But although those three archetypes may change over time, the latter two, the Soulmate and the One, are unique and “non-transferable”.  There can only be one Soulmate, and quite obviously, only one One.

So that’s my theory in a nutshell.  Well, as short a nutshell as I could attempt to encase it in.

Coming Soon: “Cinco Chicas”, where I’ll take a crack at the tricky and delicate task of slanting  my theory from a guy’s POV.

;-)