For everything that matters, carry on

The year began on a high note — the papal visit that left us high and asking for more of Papa Francesco’s holy presence. But the euphoria didn’t last long.  Mamasapano happened and the nation acted like the blessing of the Pope on our country and people just the week before never happened. After that, it was a year mostly of negativity, with the naysayers attributing every bit of bad news to the administration, and even the good that government did was stood on its head and interpreted as bad.

To me, 2015 was annus horribilis.

Besides the nasty politics of negativity, the country was battered by mega typhoons and record-breaking summer heat. We waded through floods, fought our way into crowded trains that broke down periodically, and resignedly whiled away countless woman and man hours sitting in humungous traffic jams. We were bombarded by political noise from would-be candidates and their spinmeisters taking a head start in a campaign period that is still to begin officially several months from now. And the armed conflict with the Communist Party of the Philippines did not let up as many hoped, with the peace negotiations hopelessly mired in distrust between government and the rebels.

Abroad, the world is just as chaotic. In the United States, conservative politicians insist on denying that climate change is upon us mainly because President Obama believes in it. They refuse to acknowledge the searing summers and the current snowless winters that have become the new normal. Speaking of the new normal, the proliferation of firearms in the US has resulted in unspeakable massacres of children and adults, as conservatives beholden to the National Rifle Association refuse to tighten gun ownership laws. Everywhere, the threat of terrorism disrupting our daily lives has made people wary and vigilant, if not paranoid. Armed conflict, racial and gender discrimination, religious fundamentalism and the proliferation of firearms have placed peace, goodwill and security in the back burner. We live in a world gone berserk.

Having grown up in a singing family, song is my primary means of communication. Lines from songs I grew up with tend to find their way in my writing. I find joy and comfort in songs. So you will forgive me for sharing another song that has given meaning to my life. Times like these, I turn to the comfort of Sweet Survivor written by Peter Yarrow (of Peter, Paul & Mary), Cynthia Weil and Barry Mann and recorded by PP and M. The words and music have spoken to me many times in the past 30 years — when our newly restored democracy teetered in the balance amid challenges to Cory Aquino’s leadership; when the boring normalcy of Fidel Ramos’ presidency was shaken when he entertained the idea of amending the Constitution so he could run for a second term; when Erap embarrassed the nation with his boorish, unpresidential behavior; and when Gloria Arroyo’s extended term in office deteriorated into an orgy of corruption. Back then, I sang in my heart:

“You have asked me why the days fly be so quickly

And why each one is no different from the last

And you say that you are fearful of the future

And you have grown suspicious of the past.

And you wonder if the dreams we shared together

Have abandoned us or we abandoned them.

And you cast about and try to find new meaning

So that you can feel that closeness once again.”

In  these last few months of President Noynoy Aquino’s presidency, as I see his vision of the straight and narrow path to good governance threatened by those who aspire for his position who are the epitome of corruption; his diplomatic, economic and social accomplishments undone by others who think they can do better; and his humanist approach trampled upon by those who have no regard for the dignity of the human person, I recall the song’s refrain:

“Carry on, my sweet survivor, carry on my lonely friend.

Don’t give up on your dream, don’t you let it end.

Carry on, my sweet survivor, though you know that something’s gone,

For everything that matters, carry on.”

The songs that live in me are my virtual prayers. It is through them that my deepest longings and fears are expressed. When the picture looks bleak and discouragement sets in — like now when I have this strong desire to remove myself physically from the toxic election season and its possible undesireable outcome and settle abroad,  the song reminds me:

“You remember when you felt each person mattered

When we all had to care or all was lost,

But now you see believers turn to cynics

And you wonder was the struggle worth the cost.

Then you see someone too young to know the difference

With a veil of isolation in their eyes,

And inside you know you’ve got to leave them something

Or the hope of something better slowly dies...”

Sweet Survivors, we know what we must do in 2016. For the next generation, and for everything that matters, we must carry on.