| VOICES FROM THE 69TH STREET | By Joseph Sylvester Evidente Pampliega |

I thought my editor would ask me to write what I think about Corona’s impeachment or some post-Dinagyang critique. But she suggested, something inspirational.

My social science was put to the test, if I can draw out “something inspirational” not from the standpoint of, or as a reflection of, something socio-political or cultural, or economic.

Well, I have to ask myself why I don’t know how to write something inspirational. Does that mean also that I am devoid of inspiration? Does that mean, considering that “inspiration” is connotative of “optimism,” that I am pessimistic? This is worth noting because eventually this would validate my passion for writing, why I write: to inform or educate to empower. But at some point, the very reason, now that I am given the chance to think about it, is the inspiration. I am trained to be critical – in the mind – but not so much with the heart. So, am I inspired cerebrally? That’s twisted, right? There are times when, allowing my thoughts to flow, I cry hitting the last statement. It’s a personal experience that, if I share it so often, people might think I am over reacting or self-praising. But that is inspiration working in me. What I think is what I get after all.

This is where I will dwell on my definition of inspiration. Filipinos always get the chance to see many facets of life. Do we see the good? Or do we see the bad? What makes us do the things we do to ourselves and to others? At some point, it is inevitable to feel our guts churn when we see the plight of others, when we empathize to their pains and sufferings. Inspiration should lead us to think of these things as opportunities. What do we see? What comes into our mind when we see these things? What are we compelled to do? This is inspiration.

For Kierkegaard, this inspiration is anxiety/dread/angst. He likened it to “a man standing on the edge of a tall building or cliff. When the man looks over the edge, he experiences a focused fear of falling, but at the same time, the man feels a terrifying impulse to throw himself intentionally off the edge. That experience is anxiety or dread because of our complete freedom to choose to either throw oneself off or to stay put. The mere fact that one has the possibility and freedom to do something, even the most terrifying of possibilities, triggers immense feelings of dread. (The Concept of Anxiety)

Anxiety, at some point, keeps us keen, keeps us aware, and keeps us alert and vigilant. It can be stressful at times but come to think of it, the stress comes out from wanting to make the right choice: to jump off the building or to stand back. At the other end of this anxiety, this gut-inspiration, whether we understand it using our mind or heart, is hope. Without this kind of inspiration, why would we hope? We do what we do – inspired – because we hope things will be better. Now, what you think is what you get. What you think and decide on, to elaborate it, makes you do things. And so, it is what you get.

The common things we think when we talk about “inspiration” are the lighter side of life, the cheesy ones like love. But what compels great men and women to take action, the ones that last, are all forged by the inspiration of anxiety, that despite the darkness and pains of reality, of life, with the many things we can possibly do to change for the better, to bring to light or to ease the pain --- anything and everything --- we see at the far end the light of hope.

This is how I think. And so, this too, is the way I see the world.*