To lose is to gain

Aldrin D. Pabello

Ateneo Application Number: 003292

To lose is to gain

I wished to paint vivid images of people, landscapes and sceneries that never cease to amaze people. I got a brush, some paint and a canvass. I dabbed and I rubbed the bristles that made up the contours of my painting tool. Just then, I saw what I painted. It was hideous. It was a mess. I reckoned that I just wasted my time. Frustration got the better of me. And so, I accepted the failure.

As I was contemplating; staring at my hideous painting and looking at how far it is from what I deemed it to be, I saw a pen. It kind of sparked as if making itself distinguishable among its blunt surroundings. I held it; its cold and lifeless form. The next thing I knew, I was writing. There was something about the pen being between my shaky but determined fingers. I was scribbling letters which slowly developed into words, phrases, sentences and eventually, paragraphs which made an impression of who I am with great consistency, fine substance and enlightenment. That was the start of an exploration of words, a new experience of self-expression and development. Writing became an outlet, ranging from silly random thoughts to serious social and political involvement. With writing, I became something. I became a writer; a journalist in my own right. I have become conscious of my thoughts and surroundings. I began to explore and venture out to gain experiences and scribble about them in my notepad and journals.

With writing, I was liberated and confined as well. My thoughts were freed; my worries with regards to communicating vanished. But with this liberation, I learned to confine myself too. I have learned to balance freedom of thoughts with the effects that it may impose to other people.  I have learned to position myself between holding back and still managing to write what I want to transpire. Sensitivity flourished therefore making me a man with a continuing search for what is right. I have long forgotten my biases and I have become a man of justice. The balance of the social weighing scale is dependent on our decisions. We shape what our country would be and with my writing, I hope that I could somehow be heard to make a potent contribution.

If it weren’t for this serendipitous discovery of my talent, I wouldn’t have such opinions that I can formulate now. I wouldn’t have dreamt of a better Philippines; one that respects and gives every citizen what he deserves. I wouldn’t have been politically and socially aware. I wouldn’t have visited the critical, logical and objective points of view. I would’ve been just another folk, shutting his mouth when he should’ve said something and sitting down when he should’ve stood up for himself and for others. I have transformed since I have stepped on the ladder of writing. But there is something more significant to me more than this unexpected passion.

I owe what I am today to what seems like a brick wall to everyone, blocking them from attaining what they strive for. I owe these gained values to what usually stops other people’s tracks, preventing them to move on. It may sound ironic but what made me and is continually making me slowly transform is failure.

It seems absurd to say that something which literally crushes dreams is what has made me who I am. For starters, my failure to paint made me discover other things like writing which became my heart’s desire.

Losing, declining, succumbing, misery and defeat. No matter how we put it, these will always sound negative and crushing. Yes, one’s failure may mean bitterness. It may mean depression. It may cause hopelessness. But it shouldn’t always be that way.

When we were kids, we walked and ran to rocky grounds not mindful of what may happen. And when we fail to keep our balance and we sometimes get scars, what happens after? We either plan to never walk these rocky grounds again or we instill every ounce of determination we could get to grace these roads as stronger and more courageous characters.

The way we look at our failures is a choice. We can either let our shortcomings eat us up until there isn’t any hope left or we can stay standing, enduring the defeat and making ourselves stronger and better persons in the process.

I have surrendered myself to failure like how clay is offered to a potter’s hand. I have always searched for a brighter side at every dark momentum. If there isn’t a bright side, I always do try to make one. The silver lining of the darkest clouds always shine upon me, leaving me in awe and inspiration.

Failure. It has never stopped me. It molded me into a growing pot, endlessly being of service to the people around me. It made me a pencil, being repetitively sharpened when my tip breaks and metaphorically erasing my faults and sins. It made me go on and it will continuously do.

The moment I stop failing is the time of my intangible death. I want to keep running, keep falling down, keep on learning and  keep on looking forward to what life has to offer, and I want to do these at the Ateneo.