In my treasure trove of unconsciously -repressed quotes, Socrates' "Know thyself " suddenly resurfaced. When did this quote become a part of my subconscious? It was college-introduced probably, when I was sitting in a half-stifling classroom in FEU's Arts and Sciences Building and being grilled by my Fulbright scholar professor about the merits of Socrates, Plato & Aristotle's philosophical ideals. That was ions ago! I wonder what else I can dig up from this half-dead brain that sometimes functions like an old computer when it suddenly loses its internet connection or when it takes too long to connect to the network. I guess the synaptic neurons in my gray matter need to be resuscitated because they are painfully slow to fire.
So why am I talking about this quote that my gnarled brain suddenly sputters out without provocation? Well, I guess it has to justify the reason why I should spend an inordinate amount of time pounding on this keyboard to post blogs such as this one instead of sitting in my cozy chair and turning the pages of a suspense thriller, or listening to the sounds of discontent of Fox News anchors and pundits hosting their nightly rounds of political commentaries. Oh, and Andrew Zimmern of Bizarre Foods! I almost forgot that one.
Well, let me tell you first why I finally talked myself into posting on this blog that my granddaughter, Megan, started for me months ago. My daughter, Cherry, has been asking her dad and me to write our life story because she wanted our grandchildren to know who we were before they came into this world. When they were smaller, our nightly ritual with our grandchildren when we were visiting each other was the "tell-me-a-story-grandma" at bedtime. I used to regale them with made-up tall tales of pincesses and gnomes, witches and magic, palaces and kings, legends of whatever I could think of. But their special request was usually stories of my childhood, my mischiefs (and they come aplenty), the games I played, the life in the barrio in the old country. They were unceasingly and untiringly curious, peeking into a world they could not see, probing a past they could not fathom because if was not in the realm of their reality.
I would just probably content myself with conveying oral recollections of my early life to my grandchildren and hope they would retain a speck they could pass on to the succeeding generations but I guess it would be akin to handing them out a morsel when I could offer them a feast. That would be a pity. But the clincher was when Cherry told her dad and me that our life story was what she wanted for Christmas, maybe in a book form. Well, that just shattered my resistance, and now, I'm a reluctant author. Maybe a book for Christmas - this Christmas, mind you! - would be a tall order, but I could attempt the first installment of the "manuscript" - in blog form! It will not be a chronology of events that will bore the reader to tears; rather, it will be a random recollection of bits and pieces of the past, lon
g gone as well as recent. It will encapsulate my thoughts, my views, my values and beliefs, even my prejudices. As I am intensely private in nature, this will be out of character, even a primordial idea that will not come easy but it will be a welcome challenge. I hope that in self-revelation, I will not only introduce a fragment of who I am to my posterity, but it will facilitate my continual quest for self-mastery. After all, "Know thyself" kept the wisdom of Socrates echoing in the hallowed halls of the ages.
So why am I talking about this quote that my gnarled brain suddenly sputters out without provocation? Well, I guess it has to justify the reason why I should spend an inordinate amount of time pounding on this keyboard to post blogs such as this one instead of sitting in my cozy chair and turning the pages of a suspense thriller, or listening to the sounds of discontent of Fox News anchors and pundits hosting their nightly rounds of political commentaries. Oh, and Andrew Zimmern of Bizarre Foods! I almost forgot that one.
Well, let me tell you first why I finally talked myself into posting on this blog that my granddaughter, Megan, started for me months ago. My daughter, Cherry, has been asking her dad and me to write our life story because she wanted our grandchildren to know who we were before they came into this world. When they were smaller, our nightly ritual with our grandchildren when we were visiting each other was the "tell-me-a-story-grandma" at bedtime. I used to regale them with made-up tall tales of pincesses and gnomes, witches and magic, palaces and kings, legends of whatever I could think of. But their special request was usually stories of my childhood, my mischiefs (and they come aplenty), the games I played, the life in the barrio in the old country. They were unceasingly and untiringly curious, peeking into a world they could not see, probing a past they could not fathom because if was not in the realm of their reality.
I would just probably content myself with conveying oral recollections of my early life to my grandchildren and hope they would retain a speck they could pass on to the succeeding generations but I guess it would be akin to handing them out a morsel when I could offer them a feast. That would be a pity. But the clincher was when Cherry told her dad and me that our life story was what she wanted for Christmas, maybe in a book form. Well, that just shattered my resistance, and now, I'm a reluctant author. Maybe a book for Christmas - this Christmas, mind you! - would be a tall order, but I could attempt the first installment of the "manuscript" - in blog form! It will not be a chronology of events that will bore the reader to tears; rather, it will be a random recollection of bits and pieces of the past, lon
g gone as well as recent. It will encapsulate my thoughts, my views, my values and beliefs, even my prejudices. As I am intensely private in nature, this will be out of character, even a primordial idea that will not come easy but it will be a welcome challenge. I hope that in self-revelation, I will not only introduce a fragment of who I am to my posterity, but it will facilitate my continual quest for self-mastery. After all, "Know thyself" kept the wisdom of Socrates echoing in the hallowed halls of the ages.
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