When you try to analyze your anger

Today, I am ashamed to write that I lashed out on my mother. The tiger within me roared.

The source of the conflict was very very simple.

I had planned to changed the bedding and curtains of my room. I already removed the old beddings and placed the new ones on my undone bed. I was reading a novel when my mom appeared to tell my it was my turn for massage.

She babbled asking our helpers for help to clean the room. I thanked the offer, but refused it.

It was my room and responsibility. Two hours later, my massage session was done and I was informed it was lunch time. I decided to visit my room first to get a handband when I was taken off-guard by the sight that greeted me.

My room was immaculately clean!

The beddings were changed. The curtain I selected was changed.

My room was cleaned!

AND I WAS REALLY MAD!

I called my mom and asked her why they cleaned my room, when I specifically told her I was the one who would clean the room. Everytime my mom answer, disrespectful me would replied, "What did I tell you?" in our mother tongue.

I was so upset I stayed inside the room.

The room was immaculate, but deep inside, I was a boiling pot of rage.

I tried to push-ups to make the anger go away. It failed. It was so strong. so heavy, that the only thing I knew best to deal with it....... was to curse out loud.

Now, my mom heard this and barged into my room. She reminded me that I could be heard all the way to the kitchen.

Damn if my voice reached the kitchen. Damn if my neighbors heard me. I was visibly upset. My mom lost her patience and told me if I didn't like the room, then she would just instruct the helpers to remove the beddings.

I didn't want the beddings to be removed. I just wanted to be alone. Alone to deal with my feelings and rage.

My mom left and I just lied down on the bed. I grabbed my notebook and wrote my feelings.

Several hours later, I left my room to have lunch. I had already calmed down then. Eventually, I apologized to my mom.

This event had me thinking.....why was I so mad? Why couldn't I control the rage?

Believe me, I can't recall the last time I reached that boiling point.

I pondered why. What were the circumstances that led me to be that angry?

Here were the facts:

1. I was so excited to change the bedding and curtains.
2. I personally selected the bedding and curtains.
3. I specifically instructed my mom not to touch my room, nor did I want the help of the helpers.
4. Mother did not listen to number 3.
5. I felt robbed of the opportunity to make my room clean.
6. I felt mother did not care enough to listen to my request and broke her word.

What does the act of tidying mean to me?

Take note, I did not grow up having to clean a house. There were always helpers around to do it for me. When I grew up, I realized what a sorry excuse of a human being I was and decided to be responsible.

I decided to occupy my room and promised to be responsible for its cleanliness.

One of the things I actually love is changing the bedding, even if it's tiresome. It's tiresome, yet it brings me a sense of... industry.

Let me tell you this, I have not changed the bed sheets and pillow cases for almost three weeks, naturally I wanted to sleep on something clean and fresh!

Although my mom, in her best intentions, tried to help me and provide me a clean room... I think I felt angry because the work was stolen from me.

Yep. The Work was stolen from me. The act of doing something I wanted to do, was stolen to me.

Not only was it promised to me, but it was stolen.

And I don't like it when someone promises something and doesn't deliver it. I don't like it when someone steals from me.

No wonder I was angry.

But there's more to that, I think.

I'm always reading about Psychology, and there's this concept about "Psychological Projection". Psychological Projection happens when you attribute your hated qualities to another person.

When I refresh my memory, my mother had the intent to help me. I wanted plan A. She couldn't wait for my Plan A and launched Plan B. I got mad because she ignored my plans and decided to go with her own because she thought it was for my own benefit.

Wait, haven't I done what my mother has done too?

Why I like stickpeople art these days

I'm acknowledge the fact that not the best artist/creative/visual artist in the world. I allowed my ego to get the best of me. The result? I stopped growing as a creative.

I haven't drawn a decent projct for a long time (except for my watercolor painting..an output of an artworkshop I enrolled in)

I substituted drawing. Writing is easier than drawing. I'm not the best writer out therem my writing sucks. However it does feel great when your works are appreciated.

I've been taking my masters degree in public administration for almost a year now. I honestly hated it at first.

But something marvelous happened.  I had fun with the people I met. I've come to realize I like to meet new people, especially when we have a mutual goal in mind. In this case--- obtaining our masters degree.

Individual eporting is a staple in graduate school. Each subject always gives you a topic to discuss. I was actually scared with my first reports . I'm not fluent in english (but I am in Tagalog) , so I mostly speak in tagalog.

Being a reader and a wannabe scientist that I am.... I experiment on myself. When I read a very good book, I test all my learnings.

For example, from Art Markman, I learned that the significance of the Rule of 3. THe moment I started to report, I incorporated memes and stories in my reports. I also simplified my report in 3 major points and connect my topic to something the audience knows. Creating memes can be tiring, so I decided to draw my own interpretation of examples in reports.

I use simple stick people. My inspiraration? Http://www.waitbutwhy.com

The simple stickfigure drawing left an impression on me. You don't need to be that good if you want to tell a great story/messsage (okay, sometimes it DOES matter). It's not what I used to draw. But I have to admit, I am immensely amused with the blogger's stickpeople. I always smile when I read his blogs and see his images.

And that is the tale why I decided to draw using stickpeople, an art form very popular amongst preschool-elementary children (depending on the child's artistic abilities too) . I had nothing lose.

By drawing stickpeople, my focus was to capture the stickman's emotions through facial expressions and gestures.

And I think it paid off.

When one classmate asked me to draw a couple of stick guys to complement his report, I immediately said yes. I had nothing to lose.

After presentation, I had another officemate who told me she really like my stickpeople art. "You could feel the emotion from those tiny figures. It makes me happy!" . She had actually no idea I drew the stickguys from my imaginaion until CJ told the class he asked for my help.

Will I stick to stickpeople forever? No. This is just a phase. A part of my improvent as a creative. I limited myself to anime/manga inspired art. I stagnated.

To live is to learn. To live is to adapt. To live is to inspire and be inspired.

 Some of the stickpeople art I drew for CJ. His topic was about Mercedita, a woman who lived under the bridges in Manila until she died of Tuberculosis

I said yes when I didn't know what to do

My classmate approached me that Saturday afternoon while waiting for our professor. "Do you know how to make a tarpaulin?"

Without looking at her, I nodded my head. "Yes"

........Oh God, what have I done. 

The  last tarpaulin I designed looked like crap. But still, I gave it a shot. Effort trumps Effortless is my battle cry.

After receiving the theme for our seminar tarp, I created the layout in Photoshop. It took me an hour of editing the text and images, as well as conquering the inner voice in my head telling me "Oh wow, that sucks!"

"Hey, not bad!" I told myself after I was done. I had done 3 prototypes. I liked the third one and sent it to my classmate for printing.

It was a decent looking tarpaulin design, with inspiration from "It's more fun in the Philippines!". Yeah, that slogan and font style saved me. I figured I needed to "copy" something to come up with something new. After all, Austin Kleon said in his book, "Steal Like an Artist"... Nothing is original.

*** 

"See you later! we'll have lunch!"

And so, the occupants of the IT department left me alone in their office as I sat until the printer was finished churning out the 60 sheets of Certificates I was waiting for.

I need to do something productive. Hey, why not learn about the Pen Tool in Photoshop? I think Kent has PS6 in his desktop.

Little Nurnur played with the pen tool and googled for tutorials while waiting for the certificates to be printed. After 15 minutes, I got the certificates, went back to my table and played with Photoshop.

Truth is, I can't remember the last time I allowed myself to be patient with Photoshop. I played with the Pen tool. I read the tutorials. I tried to understand how to use the vector mask and layer mask. I learned how to make perspective grids in Photoshop. I played with the Free Transform Tool.  I took time (as what I picked up in Scott Peck's The Road Less Travelled)

Taking Time was a luxury I never afforded myself when I was learning how to use Adobe Photoshop. Tutorial? What for? I'm good! I don't need that! 

That mindset was my downfall. My Achilles Heel.

I'm aware I have to repeat the exercises to drill it in my head. To make in innate. To make it a habit.
It was fun yet challenging.

How an Intern made me Walk my Talk

Ola!

I was supposed to create a 5 expression sprite of Akane Tendo from Ranma 1/2. (but I do have a different output)

I wanted to see if I still I could still.... you know, draw anime/manga inspired stuff.

I do have plans of establishing a sideline of drawing character portraits for Visual Novels and Indie JRPGs. But from the looks of it, I think I still can. Though I have to admit my skills have regressed a lot.

I won't excuse myself. It looks horrible. (others might say it's decent). But yes, it looks cute and horrible. It only shows how stagnant I've become.

There's still room for improvement. It's not too late for me though.

Another reason why I decided to blog about this is because of an Intern whom I had a friendly chat with. The DSWD has this summer job for out of school youths and working students. They are assigned to the different units and projects in the department. There are about 5 Interns assigned in our floor. Since she had finished her job, she sat beside me and talked to me.

This intern is 2 years younger than I am and she's from a neighboring school way back in college. The lady's a 4th year Irregular BS IT student.  So we where chatting and chatting and chatting...when she mentioned to me how her classmates (who graduated on time) now have stable jobs.

Deciding to motivate her, I advised her to start a project. Any project. And post it online. Keep making and post them a lot. Who knows? Someone might find you and seek your services.

After I distilled that advise, I was thinking inside my head.

Shit!

Here I am, giving to a 22 year old, and I'm just sitting and talking about my golden days!

I HAVE GOT TO WALK MY TALK.

Book Reflection on Charles Duhigg's Smarter Faster Better: Choice and Why Muscle

Hola! It's been a while. 

I've abandoned several projects. Work has been eating my time (or should I say that I haven't prioritized my time which is why work has been encroaching my creative and leisure time? That's for another post.)

I love to read books.

Books are the perfect boredom-reliever/mood booster/motivator for me. I'm aware that other people view them as sedatives, but for me, books are life!

Last Sunday, I was window shopping at the National Book Store at the SM City Ecoland branch in Davao City, when I saw Charles Duhigg's second book. I never read it despite having the epub version. I was skimming the back cover when a sentence caught my eye. It was all about motivation and the US marines. 

Okay. I will definitely read that book!

I bought Daniel Goleman books that day, yet I chose to read Duhigg's book. As of writing this, I have yet to finish that book. Duhigg's a wonderful storyteller, but I really don't like the fact that the narration jump from one paragraph to another. It's confusing, but still, my patience was rewarded when I finished the first chapter. 

And this is what this blog post is all about.

Three learnings from the Motivation Chapter:

1. Exercise your "Choice Muscle"

Growing up, I was a wimp (or that was how I saw myself. Like Quintanilla (in the book), I didn't know what I wanted to be. 

I was dependent on my mom. I was used to being served. I never really thought for myself, like what I wanted, what course to take, what job to apply to. I was the type who "went with the flow". 

Upon reading and reflecting this chapter, it was during those moments when I chose to take tiny action steps (by writing my outcome and what actions to take) that I learned to strengthen my "choice muscle".

The choice muscle (okay, I personally coined this phrase. It sounds cool!) is where you make daily choices, giving you a sense of control. 

It was the moment I decided to transfer to my own bedroom (after sleeping in the same bed and room with my mom) that I gained a tiny sense of control. It was also the moment that I deliberately donated boxes of unused clothes and books that I also felt a sense of control, that "hey, I made this choice! congratulations!".

2. Exercise the "Why Muscle".

According to what I read, when you are confronted with a hard situation./chore, ask yourself "why"? There is something about why that gives you a sense of purpose to continue the activity. 

I have yet to exercise my "why muscle", and I've started today! 

Why am I walking from the highway to my house when I could just pay Php 10 and save time? Because it's my chance at exercise, and meditate as I walk home

Why am I choosing to forgo television? Because I want to make time for other important activities. 

2. Effort trumps effortless. 

I have been told how smart I am, or how gifted I am at art when I was young. I think that was what killed my creative habit. or drawing habit. It's the notion that you are a "natural" and that you don't need to make effort to create, it comes naturally to you. 

I think by adopting that mindset, I stopped drawing. I stopped pushing myself to excel and learn new skills. I was content that I was "great" and "natural" at art. Looking back, it was those activities where I exerted effort that made me truly proud (like how I learned to whistle, or wiggle my ears)

When you work hard for something, you value it more. When you give effort, you strengthen you internal locus of control, "that I can influence my destiny with my actions".

I have yet to finish Duhigg's book, it's an interesting book to read and the learning are applicable in real life. 

I really wanted to write my thoughts about this chapter. It's my favorite part of the book. I can relate with the character, Eric Quintanilla in the book. He was indecisive and unsure about the future, until he enlisted in the Marines. While I know I will not enlist in the Marines (or the Philippine National Police since I have a friend asking my if I'm interested to join), I definitely know I will exercise my choice and why muscles. 

I have been exercising my Idea Muscle for 10 months now. How hard can it be to exercise two other muscles?

Gratitude Glasses

Everyday, I have two choices. 

Wear my complainypants glasses and whine about the injustices brought upon me.

Or wear my Gratitude Glasses and look for the benefit of every unlikely situation.

Learning and insights  are subject to the glasses we wear.

The challenge is to chose wisely.

The Rule on How to Live your Life

"How am I supposed to live my life?"

                                           "Live your life like, a sandbox game.

                                             You, know, like Minecraft."

"What are the rules of the game?"

                                           "Rule number 1: You make 

                                             your own Rules."

"Sounds boring."

                                           "It sounds cool."

Do we really need to follow a rule, or guideline on how to live our lives? 

Some people love having a rule to life. It's a safe anchor to the turbulent seas in life. It makes life easier.

Some loathe being chained to some idea. To live is not to confine yourself to some stupid saying. To live is to go out there and live as you please. 

I'm the person who falls on the first option: I like having guidelines in my life. It provides me a sense of normalcy and security, an anchor the turbulent seas. 

I have been told to live and embrace its antithesis. "Why are you confining yourself to some rule that other people make?" "Why are you so rigid? You won't enjoy your life!"

I know that people have differing views on how to live their lives. I use to think that people thought the same way I did, but experience taught me differently. I used to shove my beliefs in other people's throats. Now I know better.

What works for me, doesn't work for others.

Let me get it straight. I acknowledge that both concepts are the sides of the same coin. The coin is how to live life. The sides are to follow the rules and ditch the rules. 

Now here comes me, trying to be conventional yet unconventional at the same.

Is there a way for me to marry these two sides?

Can we follow a rule, yet at the same time, ditch it?

It's like this saying I once heard:

                A: Love is unconditional.

                B: I beg to differ. It's conditional.

                A: How?

                B: The condition of having no condition, makes it unconditional.


It sounds stupid, yes? But think about it. What happens if we rephrased it?


                A: I live my life with no rules.

                B: I beg to differ. You live your life with a rule.

                A: What makes you say that?

                B: The condition of living without a rule, makes it a rule itself.

If there's one thing I've realized in my existence, it's that people will justify and defend their views on how the live life. They will protect it and snarl at people who have something to say against it.

So what is the rule on how to live your life?

My advice: 

Keep it to yourself. Practice it yourself. 

And most importantly, be true to yourself. 

Refrain from shoving unsolicited views on other people's throats.

Complainypants will be Complainypants

"The world is full of Complainypants."

I was enjoying  lunch with my graduate school classmates.... until they transformed into the dreaded "complainypants".

Now, what exactly is a complainypants?

Meet Mr. Money Mustache, a.k.a MMM, the dude who has converted me to the Cult of 

Mustachianism. MMM has a knack of creating amazing and memorables terminologies such as: 

hedonistic sukka, car clowns and complainypants.

....anyway, back to my topic.

The complainypants classmates are mad because of this certain professor's "poor" decisions which affected us.

To make the long story short, that professor could have saved us a lot of trouble if he followed option

"X". However, he went with option "Y". After the succeeding semester, he tells us that it was option 

"X" all along, and we have to comply with it within 3 months, or else we repeat the subject.

Because my classmates were fed up with this professor's antics, they blamed him for whatever misery

they experienced. "If he could have done this and that instead of this, we wouldn't be in this 

predicament." 

I have my own issues with our professor: I do not like his teaching style. I also do not like that it 

takes him 10-15 minutes to have a morning prayer. I do not like that he injects unnecessary and 

irrelevant matters to discuss during lecture hours to kill time. But since I do know that we are 

different styles and opinions, I try no to hate him that deeply. I understand that we are all humans, 

with our differences and shortcomings.

I can't help but laugh as well, for I also share the same predicament with them. School requirements 

are piling up and I have yet to study for our exams. 

But right now.. I'm behaving as if I don't care a shit. No pressure.

I guess this is one of the effects of reading Augusten Burrough's "This is How". 

"This is how the past haunts us. We think about it."

"When somebody experiences something truly horrific and shocking or so unimaginably 

painful and ruinous and they survive, all you can do is wonder, "But how?". 

This is how: By living what exists in our life right this moment. And by recognizing that the

 origin of what we have or do not have is irrelevant."

Since something happened to us by circumstances beyond our control, we expect the other party who 

offended to pay compensation. When we are unjust and unfairly treated, we demand we treated 

otherwise.

... and what did Augusten write?

" The truth is that life itself is brutally, obscenely unfair."

"Avoid self-pity by taking responsibility for everything that happens to you, even if somebody

 else is at fault. By taking responsibility, I don't mean to play doormat. I mean, repair yourself. 

Love forward. Move on. Then, only then, see if you can wrangle some empathy."

Even The First Noble Truth in Buddhism agrees. "Life is full of suffering."

And we suffer more by living and blaming the past, hoping it could be different.

 We can stop haunting the past by living in the present.

My present right now, is not what our professor did to us, My present is the decision on which task to prioritize and act on. 

I've been a complainypants myself, and I still am. 

I can decide to blame the professor entirely....

...or I can create my Escape Plan and plan for my next action steps.

That's more appealing and optimistic than trapping myself in the shoes of a complainypants, isn't it?