I was very chock-full tonight; the porksilog at Park Café in Divisoria did a good job of toting up a pound to the never-ending progress of my weight. While eating, I had a little chitchat with a former MBA classmate, Malou. This naïve and geeky (too brainy) friend of mine believes that I am her “career consultant” (this tickles me to the bones). Whenever she has career issues and dilemmas, she giddily asks for my views (I feel so old now). I must admit, she is quite successful for a fresh graduate though (iba talaga ang mga Ateneans!). At 23, she heads a local Internet provider, which covers the whole of Northern Mindanao. Her “problem” started when another ISP (Philippine-wide) offered her a sales management slot (I turn green whenever I think of it) while in a middle of foreign tourist (cum employment) visa application. Torn between two money-spinning opportunities, her mind is in limbo. Thinking I will make a difference, I aired the sharpest tool in my shack. Then she uttered, “I went to a fortune teller, and she said..blah blah blah’. That’s it; I stopped and said in my vernacular language, “Man’s fate is the result of his own actions”. Fortune-telling and superstitions can never be an alternative to human’s instinct and common sense. God is there to guide and hone us. But in the end, it is OUR choice, no one else’s.
Fate is a like an artist’s masterpiece. It is carved according to the artist’s creativity and personality. Like Leonardo Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, it is unique. Its mystery can never be replicated by any other artist. Just like saying, a sculpture is molded according to the sculptor’s imagination…and his alone.
Below is a poem by William Ernest Henley, “Invictus“ (meaning, unconquered) , that guides me in times of trials and tribulations especially in dilemmas. I have this posted in my office bulletin board to remind me, that what I have and who I am now, reflects my kind of “art”…a 28-year old art that I molded.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.