On Being

For what is being?

During one of my classes in art appreciation, I found myself being in a certain situation which made a great impact on my psychological balance and led me to sleepless nights. That was only last 13th of November 2014. We were in Doherty 112 deliberating a meeting for our project in fulfilment to that class, Art Appreciation, which is a stage play, to be presented on the next term of this semester. The leader is a Political Science senior student and is facilitating our discussion. The first part of the meeting ran smoothly. She raised her concerns and also her plans and we cheerfully participated. Jokes were even thrown. Until, when concerns from the members are asked and some raised theirs that the dark side of the discussion dawned. Harsh deliberation sparked and the whole cheerful meeting had its dark ages. The problem? Only in the level of language.

I felt very bad that my ideas were rejected just because it was not understood. Not even not understood per se but not understood only by her. I felt that sense of inferiority and thought what is happening to that class. It became as if I was in the time of the Nazis or the time of Marcos that there is no need to understand what I say but what is the only important is what her say.

On the positive side, I have another incident which I want to include here. It happened in the evening of 15th of November 2014. We are in the mall around 7 in the evening just after buying stuffs and heading the exit. My father happened to meet someone. As is usual customary, hands were exchanged for shaking. But, what is interesting to that incident was the fact that when my father extended his hands they were actually smudged with paint. Paint of different colors. My father is not a painting artist.  He was out during that morning painting in the school which happened to be where he is the Principal. I jokingly said to him: ‘As if you do not want to shake his hands, huh?’ From where I received a rebuke: ‘Why not?’

His answer actually made me bad. I felt insulted but I realized it was actually I who first insulted him with my question. That question which belittled his way. Ways which is him authentically. Ways which are the product of the life of simplicity and sense of poverty. He always asks us: ‘Never ever forget the life from where we, your father and mother, came.’

Last Nov. 10, 2014, during our first meeting in metaphysics, it was said that metaphysics is the study of ‘that’ which is and ‘is’ is is. I felt that tingling sensation thinking that it was only the beginning, what would be the next? At first hearing, I thought my professor was only emphasizing the word ‘is’ until he wrote the whole three words down on the board with broad strokes that I realized the whole three were in fact three words in themselves that corresponds to a single fragment and gives a whole definition to something that which is – being.

But, what does the two scenarios above talk about? What is the significance of those two stories to that of our first discussion? They actually talk about very same thing, which is also the topic of that subject – being. My consolation then: be ready to the unfolding of every mystery by every being.
The two stories presented to me how the great schemes of things revolve in our existence. How our being encounter another beings. From our discussion, being is that which is. Being is ‘that’ and not ‘this.’ Being as ‘that’ because being display uniqueness. Not as simply ‘this’ because it is inexhaustible. The quality of being and its interpretation does not depend on another being but in itself. It is unique. It does not depend on the other being but in itself. Being is like water, forever flowing. If it is grasped, the one trying to may wet his hands but water will forever flow. Just as being, as I try to know it I may but never exhaust it.

The two scenarios had also its common result on me feeling bad. I felt insulted but what is the problem? The problem is that on the two scenarios I tried to control being. I tried to box being up inside the context of my perspective. I tried to box everything up inside my perspective when in fact being is emanation. It is like the sun which gives light. I can only see what it shines.

At this point, being as like the sun, we can also understand it as also giving itself its own meaning and we cannot control how a being express itself. We cannot judge a being if that reacts in such a way because it is that, it is how that emanate. We cannot see something if the sun does not shine its light on it. So, if I put that the sun is the being then we cannot understand how a being sees something if that does not light it itself. In other words, we cannot put words on a being’s mouth because every being has its own light to shine over from itself. Then, every being has also its perspective. A perspective which is being’s being and the being’s perspective should be respected because to suppress it is to suppress the being’s being altogether.