Friday, October 10, 2025

When We Are Shaken

 

                                              (image: youtube.com)

Hujong pati an kayag!

When the earth shook, we were reminded of how fragile our sense of control truly is. In that fleeting moment, all that seemed certain was swept away, and we found ourselves clinging to the divine. Some called out to God in fear, others in quiet surrender, but all were united by the same yearning for safety and grace.

Cristina Chi of The Philippine Star reported that a magnitude 7.5 earthquake struck off the coast of Davao Oriental at around 9:43 a.m. on October 10, triggering tsunami warnings and widespread alarm across Mindanao. Initially recorded at magnitude 7.6 before being later revised, the powerful tremor’s epicenter was located offshore near the municipality of Manay and was strongly felt in several parts of Mindanao and neighboring regions.

We were on the fourth floor of a hotel for an educational engagement when the tremor struck. I calmly instructed the participants to follow the safety procedures we had long practiced during earthquake drills, yet many instinctively ran for safety in panic. As I took cover under a table, I silently prayed for the shaking to stop. The thirty seconds felt much longer: intense, disorienting, and deeply unsettling. When it was over, several of my companions were visibly shaken, some even traumatized by the experience.

Later, as emotions poured out on social media, mixed with humor, fear, and even a flood of memes, I found myself reflecting on our collective response. Have we become so desensitized that even calamity becomes a subject of entertainment? In moments like this, I wonder if we are gradually losing our empathy and evolving into an indifferent species.

Natural disasters often expose both our vulnerability and our humanity. In moments of crisis, such as during an earthquake, individuals respond with instinctive fear or calm composure depending on their sense of preparedness and meaning making (Becker et al., 2017; Lindell & Perry, 2012). Yet, as emotions spill over into social media, reactions can shift from empathy to detachment, where humor and memes blur the line between coping and desensitization (Vasterman et al., 2005). This raises moral questions about our collective sensitivity and compassion in a digital age that easily turns tragedy into spectacle (Bloom, 2016; Zaki, 2020).

The calamities we experience in the Philippines continually remind us of our shared vulnerability and our enduring humanity. They compel us to take precautions and to care not only for ourselves but also for those around us. In moments like these, our priorities are realigned toward what truly matters. Material possessions may fade or be lost, but the kindness we extend and the relationships we nurture endure. Ultimately, the meaning of our existence is not measured by what we accumulate, but by how deeply and selflessly we serve others.

Those who fear the most are often those deeply attached to their possessions. Their anxiety stems from the thought that everything they have worked hard for, their homes, cars, and material investments, could vanish in an instant, reduced to rubble. The greater the attachment, the deeper the fear. When our sense of security is anchored on what we own, we become vulnerable to losing peace of mind the moment these things are threatened.

The tremors we experienced remind us to remain humble and grounded. They teach us to focus on what truly matters, rather than investing our emotions in things that are fleeting. In the face of uncertainty, we are called to place greater value on what endures: genuine relationships, acts of kindness, love for the environment, and respect for others. These are the foundations that sustain us when everything else begins to shake.

In the end, every tremor reminds us that nothing in this world is permanent, except the strength of a humble heart and the goodness we share with others.

Friday, October 3, 2025

When One Ignores Resistance

 

                                              (image: youtube.com)

Magbantay lamang kay bas mahitukyod!

Resistance exists everywhere, especially when individuals are placed in uncomfortable situations brought about by natural phenomena, imposed by leaders, or enforced by institutions.

At its core, resistance is a human response to power and control. Foucault (1978) argues that where there is power, there is also resistance, suggesting that opposition is a natural counterbalance within any social system. Similarly, Scott (1985) explains that even ordinary individuals find ways to resist authority, whether through open protest or subtle acts of defiance. Institutions, such as schools or governments, often establish rules that may not always align with the values or comfort of the people, which in turn can spark resistance (Giroux, 2011).

Leaders of institutions or even small organizations must recognize this phenomenon, not to simply yield to the whims and demands of their members, but to genuinely consider the well-being of the people they serve. Neglecting this responsibility may drive individuals to express their discontent in various forms of resistance, ultimately placing leaders at risk of being displaced.

Recent national events reveal visible forms of resistance, such as rallies, protests, and walkouts from schools and government offices. These actions stem from widespread frustration over blatant corruption, systemic oppression, and the deep social inequalities perpetuated by politicians, political dynasties, and even contractors and engineers who allegedly misuse public funds for personal comfort.

Such collective actions reflect how citizens challenge systems of power that appear to favor the elite while disregarding the needs of ordinary people. Tarrow (2011) notes that collective action often arises when inequalities become too visible to ignore, while Scott (1990) emphasizes that resistance can be both overt, like protests, and covert, through everyday acts of defiance. In the Philippine context, Abinales and Amoroso (2017) highlight how corruption and patronage politics have long fueled public dissent, showing that resistance is deeply rooted in the struggle for fairness and accountability.

The lesson for any individual, especially those in management and leadership roles, is to embrace a leadership style rooted in genuine care rather than being driven by selfish intentions born of unchecked desires or psychological deficits. Leaders must cultivate self-awareness and ensure that equality and fairness are consistently upheld within their organizations, creating environments where people feel valued and respected.

Otherwise, resistance will become increasingly difficult to address and may manifest in ways that undermine organizational stability and harmony.

Ultimately, resistance is not merely an obstacle but a signal, a reminder for leaders to ground their actions in care, fairness, and self-awareness. When leadership fails to honor the dignity and well-being of people, resistance becomes inevitable; but when it succeeds, it transforms potential conflict into collective strength.