MI Lens: On Discipline thru Positive Communication: Ripple Effect

  “You guys are so lazy.”  “You’re always dilly-dallying that’s why you’re not accomplishing anything.”  At the risk of sounding negative even though I’m writing about the power of positive paradigm in communication and discipline, I took the courage of quoting some of the teachers I’ve worked with in other schools to cite a common example of how paradigms can be negative and destructive.  However, I regret that despite I knew that we shouldn’t brand students negatively; I wasn’t able to call their attention to their actions and its repercussions.  Whenever I hear them give such a sermon, my mind just automatically flashes back to my own experience.

In elementary, I was sent out of my classroom for not being able to do my assignment in Mathematics.  My math teacher threateningly asked me, “Where is your assignment?” and I sadly replied, “I didn’t do it teacher…” He asked why and I said, “My mom’s lola died.  We were busy and…” Before I was even able to finish my sentence, I already heard him shouting at me, “Get out!  I don’t need you in my class!  Get out!”  I wasn’t able to stand up right away because I wanted to finish telling him why I wasn’t able to do my assignment with the hope that maybe he’d show some mercy.  But no, he didn’t give me a chance.  I silently walked out of the room and went to the library. 

As I’m currently pursuing a career in teaching, I am forced to reflect with my previous experiences as a student when I was a child so that I may avoid negative paradigms and practices my teachers have exhibited in the classroom.  It is in our training today that I get to reflect on my past experiences as a child student.  I was also able to appreciate the power of disciplining thru sending positive messages in a deeper perspective as we role-play in a practical positive communication skills exercises.  Two words - positive communication – that’s what mostly instilling discipline is all about.  With this new lens that I’m wearing, I’m starting to see and hear things differently.  I’m starting to study the effect of every word I say and I question whether the message I’m sending promotes positivity and is directed to eliciting an appropriate attitude.  I have then realized the power of words that we utter not only to its receiver but for its sender as well.  Looking back at my experience in math class, I wonder how, if I were my math teacher, would I have been able to handle it without humiliating, omitting, and sending a student out.  I tried wearing the non-judgmental and positive hat and this is what I’ve come up with: I would’ve asked my student politely why he didn’t have an assignment and maybe I would’ve found out that the student’s mom’s grandmother had just died and his family attended the funeral and went to the interment.  I would’ve realized that members of the student’s family could’ve been busy that time that was why they weren’t able to assist the child in his assignment.   As his teacher, I would have probably said, “I’m sorry for your loss.  How are you and your mom? It must be hard for her.  Now, I’m sure that you want to catch up with the lesson.  I promise I’ll help you out later.”   I could’ve even called his family and express my condolences and talk about how well their little boy solved some extra problems I gave.  With that, I would’ve sent the right message to the boy and build bridges with the family.  I would’ve felt better about myself for being a good teacher and choosing to respond positively.  Yes, that’s how I wished my math teacher had viewed the circumstances.  (In my to do list, I'll write him a letter about it.  Of course, it's been ages but I'm a little curious about what his response would be.)

 As teachers, we have the responsibility to stay positive at all times no matter how hard the practice may be.  Our choice of words, and choice of actions are what the students live with everyday.   They don’t just hear or see these choices we make; they also experience them; and most importantly, it stays with them.  That’s why if as teachers, we strive to see the best in our students, our students may also choose to see the best in others so that these others may eventually make small drops of  buoyancy that create such ripple effect.

Now, as I aspire to be a part of the community that celebrates making a difference as one of its pillars, I agree that it’ll only be possible to make a difference if I know that “Negativity is not an option.” – or much better put, “Positivity is the only choice.”  The glass is half-full. J

 

 

 

First Day High: MI Lens: A Fresh Journey, A Fresh Perspective

I have had the privilege of listening to Ms. Joy Abaquin, the founding directress of Multiple-Intelligence International School during our first day of Faculty Training today Monday, May 2. I just have to say that the ambiance in MI campus is quite different from most campuses that I’ve visited. First thing I admired was how polite the guard and the crew were to absolutely everybody; second, the kind staff inside the administration office who were so eager to attend to absolutely anybody who enters it; third, the enthusiasm of Ms. Joy to share this fresh concept; and last but not the least, the rest of the faculty and staff-to-be who are now all starting their journey with MI and are ready to make a difference in this profession.

Today’s journey began with some icebreakers that really broke the ice amongst the new members of the team. It was always so much fun to see how people of different backgrounds and personalities unite to change their perspective not just in teaching but also in their personal lives to eventually positively affect the lives of students. I think one of the most exciting parts of the journey of being with MI is they don’t just teach the theories they teach you in education school, they actually practice them. And when I say practice them – they really do. They are true to the core essence of what education is and should be about. Gone were the days when children were branded as low IQ or high IQ merely based on their test-taking survival. Present though, is MI’s belief that each individual has different gifts and that a child is not merely his or her IQ. Each child has his or her own strength and MI acknowledges that without making them feel a less better person just because they are weak on other aspects of their studies. Moreover, they sincerely and truly help students improve their performance with a concrete, step-by-step, procedure they share to each teacher so that each faculty member may be better equipped with skills to handle challenging situations the MI way. This is only my first day of training and I can’t wait to learn more about the culture of MI.

While I was at a crossroad of choosing a school where I want to work in, often, I would ask myself during my visits to these schools whether I would enroll my child, or let’s say my niece or nephew to such academe. I answered yes to MI. And I hope that more students and parents hear about this school. If it’s a cliché to say that the youth is the hope of tomorrow, MI doesn’t think so. If I can sum it up, I would say that MI students are a part of such hope for a better tomorrow – hope that we have so desperately want to believe to exist. And here in one corner of the Philippines exists a learning environment that I am very proud to be a part of. After today’s training, I can only envision this - that we, MI teachers do the best we can to make that hope sparkle even more. In a popular story that Ms. Abaquin shared us, there are only three kinds of brick layers – a brick layer who knows he lays brick; a brick layer who sees as far as building walls; and a brick layer who believes he’s building a cathedral. In New Era University, while I was taking up Education Units, I was reminded by one of my professors (Dr. Ledesma, thank you!) that teachers are nation builders. I realize now how importance it is to be a teacher with this kind of perspective before embarking on a new journey. Now I’m starting to see thru MI lens. If it were a pair of eyeglasses, I’ll lend it to you. You should try it. It’ll take some adjustment but once you’re adjusted to it, you’ll probably see the world a much better place and your students, much better persons. That’s what I intend to do. I’m wearing the lens starting today.

Who Am I?

The Name

June Canicosa Hebrew – that’s my full name.  It’s June because that’s my birth month; Canicosa being my mom’s maiden family name; and Hebrew because…  well, I’m not exactly sure.  One thing I knew – I grew up liking the reaction of the people who heard my surname.  They would often say that it was cool and unique.  Some would even ask where I was from or my family from originally.  When I was in grade one, my teacher, Mrs. Matulac asked me where I was from when she noticed my surname.  I didn’t know so I simply replied, “From my dad!”  She gave a sweet smile as if trying to tell herself “Of course, what question was that?”  I smiled back at her and she just led me to my seat.  Later that day, when I got home, I asked my mom why our surname is Hebrew.  She just told me that my dad was an Israeli and that my dad’s dad, my grandpa, was of a Bumbay (Arabian) descent.  When the first grading period PTA conference came, my mom went to school to get my report card.  My teacher asked the same thing to her and she replied the same.  From then on, whenever people asked me about my family name, I’d tell them exactly what I heard from my mom.  As I tell them my family name, I noticed that somehow I was more likeable.  My surname sounded foreign and I accepted delight when people would take interest in it.  I’d tell them my mom’s exact words, “My dad’s an Israeli.  My grandpa on my dad’s side is Arab.”  I had big round eyes; thick eyebrows and eyelashes then that resembled the facial features of a Middle-Eastern.  So people believed me.  I believed myself too.  I didn’t know the truth.  One weekend lunch, I went to my Uncle Carlos’ house with my brother Ace.  We would hang out there sometimes because my uncle was fond of digging camote and we helped him out.  We would bring the crops home and boil it and eat it with sugar.  One day we went there and I noticed his faded uniform patched with the word Ebreo on its chest.  I didn’t think it was important.  Time passed and each school year, and each opportunity I was asked regarding my surname, I told people the same thing – Israeli and Arab.  That was it – so etched in my mind.  I grew up telling the same thing to everyone – although, inside me, I had doubts.  I had doubts because I kept remembering Ebreo from my uncle’s fatigue uniform.  It couldn’t have been a coincidence that our family names sound similar from each other. And so, my family name dilemma started.  If my dad’s Israeli because he’s a Hebrew, does it mean that my relatives are the Filipino version of Israelis?  It didn’t make sense.   Does it mean that if your surname is the English translation of your relatives’ family name, it makes you foreign?  I kept asking these questions to myself.  One afternoon, after school, I was talking to my tito Carlos under the star apple tree in our yard and I asked him why his surname was in Filipino and ours, in English.  He brushed off the question and talked about how he’d give me a star apple from our tree instead.  I felt that he didn’t want to answer the question.  I never attempted to ask him again.  I still couldn’t connect the dots.  And during one of those lazy afternoon moments, my mom told me stories.  I found out from her story that Papang (that was how we called my grandfather on my dad’s side) was my dad’s step dad.  My mom still didn’t tell me why our surname is Hebrew.  What a great coincidence that my biological grandpa’s family name is similar to my step grandpa’s family name!   I thought to myself.  I knew that there was something else.

Earlier I wrote how hard it is to define your purpose without first knowing yourself, where you’re from, and where your home is.  Now, I’m on that journey to discover my roots more.  I’ve started with my name that has a rich history that goes along with.  I also think of my family more and more often and unfortunately, the first thing that pops in my mind is always how hard it has been for us surviving as one.  As I was forced to reexamine and reflect on my existence, I’ve looked in different directions for answer but there’s one thing that holds true – my family is my very root.  To answer the question “Who am I?” I need to carefully examine my family and the different factors of my past that could’ve contributed to my being me today. 

First, my family name – the very basic identifying factor of the smallest unit of the community – unfortunately, needs in itself a process of identifying.  Failure to identify this can make you question which part of your life is real and which part is a lie.  Name is a very basic human need.  It makes you find yourself and develop your identity in your home, school, work, and whenever you hear it, you respond.  Family name is the same, others identify your family’s geographical origin through it, not to mention your ethnicity.  Practically, you get your family name from your dad and your dad’s dad and the list of previous dads go on.  Your mom and dad tell you who your grandparents are and you just seem to feel naturally that you belong and that the cosmos automatically identifies your place in the universe as Juan, with de la Cruz as your family name.  You develop that sense of pride that you are Juan de la Cruz, a Filipino with the Spanish heritage of the Cruz’s.  It would be so easy to trace back your history with a name.   That hadn’t been the case for me.  I grew up having this confusion at the back of my head questioning what was real and what wasn’t.

And so I took the liberty of voicing out the whispers in my head.  Who am I?  What’s my name?  Where am I from?  The search for answers wasn’t easy.  This subject just seemed inherently a forbidden if not a merely awkward topic to talk about at home.  I didn’t hear anybody in our family who talked about it openly.  Until now, we just smile at the thought that other people think our surname is cool.  As I took the liberty of answering the voices in my head, I also realized that we could be put in a vulnerable position but I also thought that knowing is enough prize.  It would be like releasing a bird from the cage.  It would finally mean some sort of freedom.  I carefully traced back my steps from where I stand now.  In a conversation I had with my mom when I was around 6 years old, I found out that my dad grew up without knowing his biological father in person.  Whether he knew who his father was, I’m not sure about.  One thing I know though is that he too grew up without knowing what his surname is.  My dad and I have a similarity because we both don’t know what our real surname is.  If given a chance, I would look for his biological family and find out the truth.  I believe that they are around somewhere and I think that my dad would like to know them if they’re reachable.  I sure would like to know if they ever existed.  But right now, I don’t know where to start looking for them.  It has been more than sixty years since dad was born and I don’t know how to trace to that far back.  However, this is what I know now – obviously, I know that he chose Hebrew because it’s close to Ebreo (this one’s a given).    He didn’t want to carry Ebreo because it wasn’t his but he can own Hebrew.  He can make it his own.  It’s close enough to but not too far from the family that he knows.  He was somewhere in between.  So there, mystery solved.  Hebrew is simply the close translation of Ebreo.  I have known for quite some time but it’s always easier to shrug my shoulders and let people be led on to whatever they want to believe.  Most people encourage me to study my lineage because I might be able to trace it to the Jews that God so loved then.  That having been said and since I have this surname and I don’t have plans of changing it (although it crossed my mind), on a deeper perspective, this is what I want to believe in and hope for that my surname has in store for its bearer – that its bearer would gain benefits and privileges that God had extended His first people, the Hebrews.  I hope that despite all our weaknesses that we live with but one strength, my dad’s strength, his in Him – this very faith that he so well imparted in us when my brothers and I were growing as children; this very faith that we shall be eternally grateful for; the characteristics of the Hebrews that descended from Abraham, God’s servant.  And for this, I shall keep this surname and be God’s servant.  And each time I write, hear, read and see my name I’ll be reminded that my dad toiled to keep his family in faith just like how the old Hebrew patriarchs toiled to take care of God’s sheep.  This, I will hold on to.  This, I will live by with.  When people ask me about my surname, I need not tell them the whole story.  I just need to tell them that it’s my dad’s and he gave it to his growing family.  I know that there’ll be a lot of people who’ll ask me about my surname, I guess I’ll just tell them, “It is a long story.  And maybe if you sit down with me over a cup of coffee, I’ll tell you more about it.” 

 

 

 

What Am I Here For?

Purpose is what I am here for.  What that is, that’s the question.  I have grown to believe that I can do whatever I put my mind into but that hasn’t always been the case.  All I have were ideals but I lack the technical know-how.   I am a typical left-handed person who doesn’t use his left-brain to know how to work around deadlines.  My right brain is so dominant that I know how to create in my mind actions and imagine the outcome but it lacks a little push on the left side to make my hands work and actually concretize such creation and outcome.  I am filled with concepts, and abstractions.  I can easily infer good insights from almost anything but I have a hard time making them real.   “To learn and not to do is really not to learn. “  I have learned a lot.  In my head, I know myself that I can apply them.  My mind would wander entertaining tasks that I should be doing but my strength was mostly coming from my right brain and it’s hard to put my left-brain to work.  I’m trying now.  Despite my childhood, I have a pretty high self-esteem. 

I was a sucker for praises and approval as a young child but I mostly got them from other people.  That was why it would make me smile whenever my mom praised me and told me what a talented boy I was.  I knew how to sing at an early age.  At four years old, my mom put me onstage so she could win some gift pack during a socializing event and I was the last one dancing.  The crowd loved me and they cheered for me and so my mom wasn’t disappointed that she got her gift pack.  My teacher in nursery only taught me the alphabet once and I had memorized it.  She also taught me how to count one to ten but I was able to count one to one hundred out of my own initiative to learn.  She taught me how to sing a song once, and I got it right away.  I thought that I was her favorite.  She was my favorite too even if I didn’t know how to read then.  I only got to spend two-days in nursery then my mom sent me to Cabanatuan.  From nursery, they enrolled me straight to grade one.  I was the only one who didn’t know how to read.  But I was intelligent.  My aunt only spent one afternoon teaching me how to read and I got it right away.  I would then read all the komiks around the house that my lola bought for her to read in her spare time.  My teacher in grade one only taught me once how to syllabicate Filipino words and I got it right away, too.  I was never taught how to read English.  My Tatay (grandfather, my mom’s side) asked me to read the heading on the cover of a comic book that said “Holiday” and I read it in Filipino, I said, “HO-LI-DA-AY” and he laughed at me and told me “HA-LI-DEY”.  I realized that the English words were different from Filipino words and that they should be read differently as well.  I then knew that I should be on the watch-out for English and Filipino words and be careful not to misread them.  It was that simple.  I learned English and it was my second language but I mastered it better than most people my age that time.   My formative years were confusing for me though.  I went back and forth to my grandparents’, my aunt’s, back to my parents’ house and the cycle just went on and on.  Although I kept bouncing from one place to another, I knew that my parents’ house was where I should really be.  But whenever I would stay at my parents’, they would always manage to hurt me and disappoint me and so I would wish I was with my aunt or grandparents instead.  But when I was with my aunt or grandparents, I would miss my parents so I would want to go home and so again, the cycle goes on.  I drifted from one place to another, no direction.  No single place that I could call home but my imagination.  I would create in my head my own world.  This world changed from time to time whenever it helped alleviate the fear, the pain, I was experiencing each time.  And so my world was never fixed.  It was adapting to me instead of me adapting to it.  For me it was real up to the point that I couldn’t distinguish anymore which was fantasy and which was real.  My only distinguishing characteristic was if it felt bad, it was real and if it felt good and nice, it wasn’t real.  True enough that when I was growing up, yes, I wanted to win approval from a lot of people.  I was an approval-whore.  I wanted to be the best in all my subjects (although, this didn’t happen always).  Whenever I heard the other teachers told about how good other students were, I would want to fill that student’s shoe because I wanted the same approval.  Suffice to say, subconsciously, I carried it in me until today.  And I need to put it to stop.

Reconciling the pieces of myself was harder than I expected.  I thought I was strong.  I thought that I had no breaking point.  I thought that I could make myself invincible.  But I wasn’t any longer when suddenly my world stopped moving and I was forced to question the purpose of my existence - to question my place in this world.  I just had to stop doing and question my way of living.  At many points in my life, I thought that I had found what I wanted.  First, when I worked for ABS-CBN.  It was prestigious working there but not the payroll for sure.  I wanted more money and so I resigned and got a job at a new company.  I got more money but I was happier at ABS-CBN.  I went back to ABS-CBN.  Then I resigned again because I wanted more money.  But I was happier with what I was doing at ABS-CBN, still.  And so I resigned and went back to ABS.  Guess what?  I resigned again.  I didn’t know why.  I couldn’t remember why.  I resigned to be in the theatre.  So that was what I did for a while.  I also taught workshops in a talent agency.  Then I became a mad-scientist.  I did that too, for a while with my theatre projects.  I fell in-love with the theatre and I decided to take my MA in Theatre Arts at PNU but they required education units.  I lasted taking education units for a semester and then I stopped since I told myself that I should just take it in UP where there wasn’t any prerequisite and there I went – I took a semester of MA in Theatre Arts in UP but I didn’t finish it.  So far, the list of my life is just a long list of unfinished businesses.  Until finally, I got involved with events people and they liked my work on a consultancy basis.  So I pursued it.  I was doing theatre, I was a mad-scientist, I was doing events too until I finally decided to work full-time for a company but then things got complicated (that’s another story), so I resigned. I formed my own company to compete with them.  I was (still am too) a theatre actor, a mad-scientist, a workshop instructor and an entrepreneur.  I loved being a theatre actor but it made me question my future with that kind of profession particularly if I wanted to help my family and be financially stable.  I loved being a mad-scientist but I questioned the genuineness of the leadership in the organization.  I liked being an entrepreneur.  It might have given me headaches but I wanted to pursue it because of money but it wasn’t easy worrying about its capitalization.  Until finally, I realized that there was only one constant in all of them that I never stopped loving – teaching.  It led me to continuing my education units’ studies, which I just recently did and finished too.  As a theatre actor, I got to teach my co-actors and give them advices regarding their technique.  As a mad scientist, I got to teach students in different schools.  As a workshop instructor, obviously, I got to teach again but this time with a wider range of age group – literally from three years old to sixty years old.  As an entrepreneur, I got to teach my co-workers about how an event should be planned, organized, executed, and evaluated.  Teaching and sharing what I know to people gave me a deep sense of satisfaction.  The idea that people were listening to me made me feel that I somehow belonged.  I was never really listened to inside my family.  So I guess teaching was my one way of filling that void.  People listened to me and I mattered.

Motives and desires are important to identify what you really want to do and why you really want to do it.  Tracing back from my childhood to understand my psyche more helps me understand why I do things and why I make certain choices.  It wouldn’t matter to some people really.  Some people would just probably think that it’s psychobabble and that what would really matter is just to look and move forward.  For me though, how do you really move forward without really knowing where you come from?  Or what are you moving forward from?  Some would say to just accept what ever it is right now and go with the flow.  But then again, how would you accept something if you don’t know what it is?  How do you go with the flow if you don’t know what your vessel is?  Often times we are presented with gifts and we hope that when open that gift we’d like what’s inside it. But when we’ve opened it and found out that it wasn’t really what we expected, we get disappointed.  But in time, we grow fonder of that gift and then we learn to like it.  We learn to genuinely accept it despite its flaws.  I think as humans, we try to shake off whatever flaws we have or what flaws others may perceive we have.  We try to blend in and fit in to become that social image our society expects us to be.  So in the process of trimming ourselves, or accessorizing ourselves with the demands of the society, we whittle away, or we become so patched up, we’re near to becoming somebody else, or worse, we hardly become recognizable even to ourselves.

Now in my quest of examining my motives and desires, I have found out that some of them weren’t properly founded on proper motives.  I have desired all along the wrong things such as approval, and acceptance.  I didn’t even know that it was what was driving me all along.  I am just glad that it’s clearer to me now.  It is clear to me that I didn’t have a center, an inner compass that would guide me properly.  I found out that I jumped from one place to another without full awareness of why I jumped so.  I, too, was in a hurry to be successful.  As the youngest in the family and the foreseen breadwinner, there was a lot of pressure in my back and in my shoulders.  I hurried to get to sail to another part of the ocean but I didn’t understand the sailor, much less the sail and the boat and I was lost.  Not to mention, I forgot my compass and I just let the wind blew me in different directions. 

But now, I’m sailing back home.  And I know that in time, I’ll get there.  I just need to find pieces of myself along the way back to become whole when I get there hoping that when I sail back again, I’m whole and I have His compass.

A Long Time Ago

I have always wanted to blog and the last time I did my blogging was September 2008.  Geez, I'm hoping that as I try to turn my life around positively that I'd have more time or discipline to get to this.  I know that it'll help me sharpen my mind and clarify my thoughts and I can't wait to start the next blog after this.

Speechless or Wordless?

I must say that I'm starting to feel the need for blogging.  Oh but I should also say that it's not easy!  Each time I go home and tell myself to blog, my words are just not there.  Well, I guess I should just try harder.  Besides, blogging is therapeutic.  Who knows what changes in my psyche it could bring.  It always pays to reflect on our and other's lives because we learn so much more than we can ever imagine.  Only, "Words are insufficient.".  Words are never enough.  Well then, we just have to back it up with who we are and what we do.  :)

So enjoy and read on...

(This is from my other blog.  I transferred it here.  I inadvertently created two accounts - google and yahoo.  Since I use my yahoo account more, I added this blog here.  I'd be deleting the other one.)

Killing Time

Today, I lazed around like a dog.  I needed this I thought.  I slept around 9pm and woke up at 5am and then slept again and woke up at 11am.  I was supposed to conduct an acting class for BA-EMS and then I learned that they were having some internal management problems (whatever they are, I couldn't expound on).

My last week had been relatively busy.  I conducted a training for a kiddie company that went from Monday until Thursday last week and as always, I was awed by the new batch of trainees.  The whole week I had some fun aside from the emotional challenges I had undergone (I couldn't expound on them either - heart matters :x).  I was scatterbrained.  I didn't have any direction.  My sense of direction would only come from the trainees that I was responsible to train and my journal/ organizer that controlled my seemingly autopiloted life.  It was tiring only because I didn't have higher goals.  I reached my plateau.  I was lost.  I forgot the very dream that I wanted to live for - to sing.

I outlined the whole training program for the whole week probably for more than 20th times this time.  And I must honestly say that I needed a little break.  I was glad that it would end Monday but at the same time, I felt a little sad that I wouldn't see the smart and funny new batch of trainees.  I had always missed every batch.

In my other consult, a marketing solutions and events company, I felt too that I lost my touch.  They had always trusted me but I was afraid that I would disappoint them.  I couldn't find my real direction and they too had been affected by my hectic schedule.

Next week, there would be another consult coming in, a PR agency.  Not that I wasn't excited to work with them, I really was (and still am).  I just feared that I might not be prepared to handle the responsibilities for this nationwide event.

This is not I.  I have always lived my life being able to deliver what I should deliver.  But this time, I guess it's not about delivering anymore.  It's whether my heart is in what I deliver.  Is this what I really want to do?  I've been going around circles for so long (in my life and in this blog).  Only to always realize that I will always get back to the basic need of my heart - singing.  I have always wanted to do this.  But for some reasons, life is pulling me away from it.  I must have been avoiding focusing on it.  Because I fear a lot of things.  I got to be facing myself now and giving the same advice I gave to my photographer friend of mine, "Art is not competitive, it's about expressing and communicating yourself.  If you view it as competitive, you'll always be insecure.  Live your art because you love doing it and it's not work."  Easier said and done, I guess.  I'm happy for him though.  He's started doing what he loves.

As scatterbrained as this blog is, I wish I could buy focus and concentration and discipline and other good habits.  This too, shall pass.  I understand that this is a stage I have to undergo.  I just wish I could hurry myself up past this stage.  But then again, I just can't.  I just have to savor each moment.  My time will come.  I know it will.  I just have to learn to cut through the circle.  

If you feel bored reading this, share my feelings as I was writing it. ;)

On a last note, I'm uploading this video to remind myself to sing more often.  A friend said that I should perform more.  One thing though, people take notice of Tintin (the girl in the background) more than my singing voice.  (Lol)

I'll be uploading more videos of myself singing. :)