PureVolume

at the time that this paragraph was being written, i was staring blankly at Jesus Peralta's "Voices of Laughter", which seems to be mocking me while listening to Urbandub and eating Belvita and Hany irritably. i didn't really know what to write then for this article. i never had the slightest thought that I would be having a hard time thinking about what to pen. I usually had the benefit of ease in writing things i've written about already. well, i suppose that, at least, at one moment in a writer's life, he has got to accept that he knows little (or nothign at all) about something. Certainly, he'd rather sleep it all out to take those little worries away even for an hour or two (especially when your deadline's in two day's time.. hehehe). It's sad that i don't specialize in writing about this topic, but who'd dare judge me when you're talking about humility? anyway, i would still try, not for any thought of redeeming myself from what i don't know but for us (especially for me) to be reminded that man is nothing more than the soil from which he was created. i think it best to be direct to the point... i know i'm proud. proud of everything i do and know to be right, of what i acquire, achieve, believe, conquer, gain and have; prouder when i get better of myself and proudest when i do it with constancy and consistency. i'm proud of everything good in me! nevertheless, i can't go for anything less. i don't back down and i hate losing easily especially when it's not in my compendium of i-don't-know's. unfortunately, it's difficult to stay low when your resumes not on the waiting list. sometimes, i'd pick simplicity over vanity but then, simple would still look vain. i'd choose the right thing over the wrong one but it would then look too righteous. caught up in a dilemma which i put myself in, i still stand out, but at the same time, looking pitiful - too proud that is. with this kind of pattern, i know i'm big when i'm big but pride would soon take me down as it always does. it's always a hard fall and what a big knockout fool would i make of myself. just only then would i realize that it's where i belong. on the other hand, sometimes, in spite of a cruel face-down landing, i still feel grateful. at least, the soul is purified though both body and mind hurt. for a fall, it's not that ugly. now really, does man have to fall first before he learns that he's not the air he breathes but the soil trodden upon? still, jesus couldn't have redeemed us just to be like this. intentionally, he gave us a genuine pattern of humility without any hint of pride, but only of love. the struggle would be a lifetime, but how perfect is a graveyard rite for a man who lived like the soil that would sooner or later be resting with him in his eternal slumber. what an ideal return! when you come to think of it, there can really be no reason for man not to be called dirt. However as man would try to avoid it, put himself up on the pedestal, and think he's invincible enough to even play god, he would always find for himself the best of everything - the grandest and the greatest - just to cover up the truth that he is. his lust for that best encompasses all worldly aspects one can think of - dignity, power, glory, fame, respect, wealth. man wants nothing less of this world, but it can be so true that he tends to be foolishly greedy, making him think he's someone superior, which on the contrary, he is not. superiority is only God's. What man can only brag about himself is that he could be graced enough, but never having anything that's his, never above others, never up there without another holding him high. "pride changed angels into devils", said st. augustine. how much more would that apply to mere men who have lives so worthy of being eliminated! We are not gods, not even angels but it seems we want things working that way. at times, i'm tempted to think that man, trying to be the thing that he thinks he is, has been a wasted gift just like devils - those who fell and didn't care to be down there just to rule the nothingness. man deserves something better, not what this world can offer but what comes after being little. thankfully, st. augustine adds, "humility makes men into angels" and the only means to do it is to live as soil which man is - to die of ourselves. thus, doing so, it prefigures us into peaceful souls without decay. easy it would be if one accepts that he is dirt. antony bloom makes it clear, "the fertile ground is there, unnoticed, taken for granted, always there to be trodden upon. it is silent, inconspicuous, dark, and yet is ready to revive any seed, ready to give it substance and life. the more lowly, the more fruitful, because it becomes really fertile when it accepts all the refuse of the earth. it is so low that nothing can soil it, abase it, and humiliate it. it has accepted the last place and cannot go any lower, in that position nothing can shatter the soul's serenity, its peace and joy." (this one is the edited work) *from the "prolegomenon", vol. 8 no. 2, oct2007-march2008