Repost from Karla’s Blog
Respect is a huge thing. All the problems in the world are still problems because people take paying respect for granted. It is reality that every single life needs respect. Without respect, love won’t have the same meaning.
People need to be respected. There are no exceptions. Others might say, That person doesn’t deserve respect because he is disrespectful himself. That’s wrong. Its like saying you are perfect. You know you are not. I mean, who do we kid?
Everyone needs and deserve respect.
Toying with people’s emotions is disrespectful and thinking of getting away with it is utterly STUPID! You will never find true happiness with that kind of attitude my friend. Just because you got away with it once (or even many times) doesn’t mean you will always get away with it. There will come a time when you need to pay for your disrespectful actions. If it is wrong, in one way or another, light or heavy, might affect you greatly or not, it will always backfire.
So while there is still time. Start respecting every single soul before you lose the most precious dream that you never really had. Don’t wait till it’s too late. It doesn’t mean if its fun and it makes you feel good, its right. Fun is not equal to happiness. Happiness is a broader more respectful term. We are always granted of what we only deserve. If we’ve already done a lot of mistakes, the sad painful hard TRUTH is, we can only accept reality and the consequences and equivalence of all our actions.
From there, we must move on and care and be grateful for what we are blessed with.
I keep on thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking. Ever since I’ve read Don Miguel Ruiz’ book, I never stopped. I like what I am feeling. I never thought it was possible to have this kind of peace. I used to worry about this. I used to think I was crazy. But I’m not. I just got sooo used to living with lies that I find it weird to live with the truth and reasons.
I’m a huge fan of the truth. But back when I was younger, I always lied. I always lied because I was so damned lazy. Laziness was my middle name. My uncles used to tease me Karla T which means Karla TAMAD (lazy in Filipino). So yeah, I grew up knowing I was lazy, embracing it and living it. I was truly lazy. I thought it was a bad thing until two days ago.
I was not lazy for no reason. I was lazy because I am practical. I was lazy because not being lazy didn’t make sense to me. Lazy felt good. Lazy was easy. Lazy was good for me. Lazy required little of my efforts. Lazy doesn’t require any consistency that bores me. Lazy was the BOMB!
Then it hit me.
I had really good teachers in grade and high school. There are Mrs. Cojuangco, Ms. Aragon, Mrs. Sabado, Mrs. Jimenez, Mrs. Merza, Mrs. Dizon, Mr. Cerezo, Mr. Inocencio, Mr. Punye, etc. My college life was better! All my teachers were great! Ms. Lupisan is the Dean I never thought could exist. Dr. Mendoza made sure we were disciplined enough. Sir Dan gave us all the love. Sir Buen stood up for what he believed was best for us even though everybody hated him for that. Mr. Araneta inspired us to be whoever we want regardless of where we come from. Dr. Racho made fun of us as he opened our philosophical beings. Ms. Bina was too caring to see the bad in anyone. Ms. Jam and Ms. Afable were the coolest! Both Miriam College Alumni: Ms. Jam chose to give back the care and understanding that her teachers gave her back when she was still a happy-go-lucky student; Ms. Afable, on the other hand, shared her love and her experiences of success through hardwork. Mr. Yuviengco, the reason why I created my first blogger account, did his best to relate to our generation and shared his realizations with his co-teachers. Dr. Anonuevo, who was a Palanca awardee for a Filipino work though she taught English, really amazed me much. I feel proud that I got to be taught by these great teachers. Mr. Toledo, also a Palanca Award(s) recipient, though he made my nose bleed all the time, never failed to impress me of his artistry and depth. Ms. Adame, the professor who didn’t seem to have a funny bone, ended up to be my first favorite teacher in Miriam. She fooled us by pretending to be a terror teacher. I’m too lazy to write all of them because I’m to excited to move on. Anyway, I hope nobody gets mad for not being mentioned. I may not include the names of my other teachers but I definitely remember all the wisdom that came from their sacred voices.
It was late elementary and high school that I realized I could be an achiever. Credits to all my teachers (Of course, my parents were my 1st teachers and life guides). It was in high school that I realized I needed to clean my acts. It was in high school that I really started proving something. I thought I was a real slow learner. I have a weak memory. I sucked at history. I was lazy to memorize all the things that I thought didn’t really have use in my life. I used to regret not being and making the best out of the early chapters of my life. I used to look down on myself and compare myself to those who really do good, get high grades and medals, attention, things they want, etc. I used to think I was nothing but a lazy daisy. Someone to be condemned for eternity. But I never gave up. I knew there must be something out there.
Although it wasn’t easy being different, I knew I was on the right path. My life was a great challenge. My dad was very strict. As in, OA strict! Like NBI strict. I never really understood why he was over. I didn’t know what was allowed to do and what was not. So, I played safe. People say I was an obedient child. But they don’t know anything.
I wasn’t obedient at all. I would lie. I would do things behind my dad’s back (thanks to mom’s consents sometimes. we ganged up on him, me, my sibs, and mom. harr harr dad). I was just being practical. I never understood my dad’s reasons. My parents taught me to always be safe than sorry. So I waited. I tried to understand him. I tried putting myself in his position. This way, I’d know why he acts the way he does and reasons the way he does then i thought probably things might make sense.
My dad is a great person. He’s the most giving person I’d ever known. He’s just really misunderstood. I used to really hate my dad. He was really irritating. He’s personality just sucked. He was always always mad for no reasons. I would hear people talk behind his back. Talking behind daddy’s back was the normal scenario anywhere I go. People hated him. People avoided him. But people depended on him.
What I like most about my dad is that he takes responsibility. My dad taught me discipline. Serious discipline and practicality. He gave me my first serious book by Og Mandino. My mom, on the other hand, taught me unconditional love and to live life fully. She taught me how to be lazy and be happy. I tell you. I don’t know how my parents liked each other. They are COMPLETE opposites. (Which is a really great thing! I got to see two totally different perceptions of things.) Daddy was the typical egotistical man and mommy was the typical martyr mom. I am the love child.