Issue No. 22

Classic Filipino movies came in three major types: romance, action, and comedy, often combining all three into one. As a kid, I had no interest in romantic movies. Kissing scenes irritated me because they often dragged on for three minutes, leaving everyone watching unsure of what to do. It felt like when someone sang the "Happy Birthday" song to you on your birthday, and you had no idea how to react—should you sing along, clap, or just stand there awkwardly? I would often just stare at a wall.

My granduncle, Leopoldo, enjoyed watching action and comedy movies. Whenever he visited our house, he'd request a cup of coffee and settle onto our wooden sofa, preparing for a 6-hour movie marathon in the afternoon. I'd join him, perched on a tall chair, hands gripping the seat's corners, my eyes glued to the screen, captivated by the explosions and the Colt 1911s with infinite ammunition.

His favorite actor was Fernando Poe Jr., also known as FPJ, a symbol of ultimate masculinity in Philippine cinema at that time.

FPJ exuded charisma, with his deep voice, straightforward demeanor, and a gaze that could make his enemies tremble with fear. In his movies, he often played the role of a heroic savior of damsels in distress. Despite the formulaic and sometimes uninspiring nature of FPJ's films, my granduncle could watch them repeatedly. I never got the chance to ask him why, but I could see in his tired eyes that he didn't have much else to do. As I watched more movies with him, I grew to appreciate action and comedy as well. We'd share laughter while enjoying the sweet plantains my grandmother cooked for us.

Leopoldo spent most of his time watching movies but also had a knack for tinkering with household items, fixing things, and constructing sheds and more. He always knew where to find our tools, and whenever I saw him wielding a hammer, I knew something wonderful was about to take shape. I learned from him how to mend what was broken and how to care for things to make them last longer.

Since my father was often at work, I adopted masculine qualities from my granduncle that I still possess today. One of these qualities is the ability to remain calm in the face of adversity. Whenever he built something, there was not only the act of creation but also moments of destruction. It was frustrating to work without all the necessary tools, having to make do with whatever was at hand. Similar to how FPJ always found a way to use nearby objects as weapons, my granduncle would adapt or combine tools to complete the task, all while maintaining a composed demeanor. I, a pre-adolescent at the time, marveled at how he could fashion a doghouse from old plywood and a few rusted nails. When it was my turn to use the tools, he would advise me not to rush and to let the tools become an extension of my body. Of course, I didn't fully understand what he meant, and I often ended up hammering my fingers to death.

However, as time passed, my granduncle watched movies with me less frequently, leaving his construction projects unfinished. I became busier with school and even started watching romantic movies due to a girlfriend's influence. Then, one day, he simply vanished from my life. He moved to live with our relatives in a distant place. A few years later, I saw him one last time, lying in a coffin wearing a dignified suit. Time is merciless, inevitable, and inescapable. Yet, deep down, I had believed he would live forever, and I'd have the chance to watch another movie with him. I imagined he would have loved John Wick and taken joy in the advancements in action movies. I could picture him watching them for a 6-hour marathon once again.

The lesson I learned from Leopoldo about remaining calm, without rushing, and savoring the moment has proven to be a valuable tool in my life. Bulgarians have a word for it—Ailyak (Айляк), the subtle art of living slowly to appreciate life and presence. Perhaps it was his old age that led him to embrace this type of sangfroid. As a young man, I find it as a more useful tool than a hammer or a rusty nail. FPJ also embodied this demeanor. He rarely panicked, mainly because he knew the extent of his abilities. He moves slowly; often trying to calm the atmosphere down until the enemies decide to act otherwise. Acknowledging his limitations, he knew how to push past them and improve. In "Ang Panday" (The Blacksmith), his dagger, forged from a meteorite, was his primary weapon. When faced with formidable foes, he would calm his mind, take a deep breath, and raise the dagger to the sky. The weapon would elongate into a full-blown sword, becoming an extension of his body, a symbol of his self-belief. He would confront his enemies with vigor and confidence, using his sword to turn his determination into power.

My granduncle fought until he could no longer continue, facing every challenge with a composed mind. The only tool we can truly rely on is the one within us - the mind that observes and feels everything. We are either trapped within it, or the world is contained within it; either way, it gives meaning to the world. Nourishing it makes sense. A strong, disciplined, and composed mind thrives in a slower form of living as it attempts to make sense of the world. Most of what life offers already moves quickly. You don't have to rush to catch up with it; it will come to you in due time. Your mind should adjust in the opposite way to capture every detail with the respect it deserves. Do your due diligence to live as authentically as possible while nurturing your potential to achieve your goals.

This is not to say that you should procrastinate on important matters in life.

Fernando Poe Jr.