Better, not Best

Growing up, I was told by my parents to be the best in everything I do. Like what I always say, I think I won the parent lottery because my parents are pretty much supportive in all the things I go into. Well, honestly, my mom wanted me to become a nurse, but later on decided to support me in pursuing what I really wanted to become – a communicator. My dad was always there to drop me to school when I needed to be early (or when I was too lazy to commute), or pick me up when I needed to go home very late. They were too supportive practically because they see me exerting every inch of effort I have in everything I do, and they were proud of my achievements.

Truth is, I am afraid of making failures. I am afraid of committing mistakes especially when people are looking at me. Maybe most of my group mates in various courses and activities could attest. For me the culture of "being the best" is very important, in fact necessary. If there are room for improvements, if we can still think of anything better than what we did, I would demand an overhaul even up to the last minute. I cry so loud when I see my team not doing things the way I wanted it to be. I don't believe in plan Bs, because only plan A would work.

I lived in the thought that I can only be the best. I was drowned in the noise of applause, thought that everything's for me. Then I woke up one day, realizing that people behind me have already left, practically because they think I'm not the best, because I can never be the best if I'm not even good to begin with.

That's the truth. You can never be the best if you're not even good to begin with.

I was too afraid to make mistakes I didn't realize it's human to make one. I was too afraid to be judged as a weakling, or a loser, not realizing that I am not living to please others but myself.

I came into deep reflection. I lived life the way it should be. I entertained criticisms, even the most painful ones, because listening to others telling you that you make mistakes humbles you and makes you strive for the better. I listened attentively to tips and advices, and tried to learn day by day.

The experiences and mistakes have made me realize to always strive for the better - not best. Every day I wake up and pray that I become a better version of myself. I stopped comparing myself to others because it doesn't help me get closer to what I want to become.

I guess being able to accept that you make mistakes and you can be better than who you are are signs of becoming more matured. And now, I am more than willing to commit mistakes, learn from those, listen to criticisms that matter. I am willing to change the person that I was to the person that I can become - a person oozing with potential once he admits he's never good enough until he learns.

Now, I'm trying to make my parents even prouder by being me. I hope being better is being the best for them.

Here's to becoming better and better, one day at a time. 

Review: That Thing Called Tadhana

Perhaps what sets Tadhana apart from other films about loving and losing, and moving on at that, is that it tries to convey a story in its simplest form - no pretentious plots, no unimaginable twists and turns, no need for overrated dramas.

The film basically asks us where broken hearts really go - Rome, Manila, Baguio, Sagada - and what exactly do it do there? We follow the unexpected crossing of paths between Mace, a woman so smart to be dumb at love, trying to get rid of excess baggage at the airport, and Anthony, a guy so charming and gentleman who helped the former. Mace's luggages perfectly describe how she loves - so full and excess without even thinking of leaving anything behind. She's that give-it-all woman when it comes to love, and everything that is too much is not good.

Anthony plays a huge part in Mace's journey to trying to move on. He was that unknown person who tries to console a woman with a heavy heart, and he was there every step of the way. In the film we try to ask, why choose to be with this woman you actually don't know, who at times makes scandalous acts when you can stay away from her and try to continue with the life's comforts? But maybe because there are some stories that begin with unexpected meetings, followed by a stage where we try to know the person beyond their face values that we stay.

As the film progresses, we see where Mace's emotions are coming from - a breakup with a boyfriend for eight long and wonderful years justifies it all. She tries to tell her story as emotional as possible, and Anthony was there, all ears. Anthony tries to give honest advice to Mace, despite her not really knowing him, hence the line, "Ang sakit mo namang magsalita, close ba tayo?!" There were impulsive trips, and those were the places where we try to forget parts of our lives.

Tadhana is an attempt to make people realize that moving on is a process, and while the duration will always vary on how one clings to every memory, it establishes the idea that it is the product that is more important than the time it was achieved. The film tries to suggest ways to forget - travel, know other people - but really, it is more of trying to make us remember how we became really, really dumb because of love. We laugh at those memories that made us cry before.

We learn how to leave our baggages and try to bring what only matters, in an attempt to make space for breathing and living.

If Tadhana is not a cinema gem, I don't know what is. The film pushes the boundaries of storytelling to its known limits, and while there are plots that promise so many things, there is Tadhana that is so simple and only promises one huge thing: moving forward.

Thank you, Direk Tonet for giving us a film where we can easily put ourselves into. Like Mace, we are you know, tatanga-tanga.

Rating: 5/5