There were instances in my teen years when I sought out museums and art galleries as a refuge from my daily routine. My everyday life back then had been composed of less variety than it does now.
Between studying, family and friendships, there was a little opportunity to be alone and silent that would not require me to be a chaperone―the perks of growing into a traditional Filipino family.
Galleries were the closest and most accessible places I could go to that will not require me to speak to people, and thus I went. My slight interest in art and all things expressive then pushed me toward a Bachelor’s degree in architecture.
Even younger still, my family had a well-stocked shelf of books with several publications on history, particularly Philippine History. My father and sisters allowed me to read through them. I loved sitting on the floor listening to their stories: on Martial Law, the 1986 Revolution, the elections of 1992 and the EDSA 2 revolt, the latter of which I had been too young to be brought out to the streets. I reveled in knowing that we were part of something big, something life-changing.
I memorized dates and famous figureheads’ names in school. The significance of this was black and white in my childish eyes. As I grew up and learned how to think for myself, I realized how significant each date was as a Filipino.
Recently, I have had the opportunity to visit the Pinto Art Museum and the Ayala Museum. None of it was a deliberate attempt to have a quiet afternoon to myself (although I welcomed it when it presented itself). It brought me back to those days when I would sit in front of a piece in an art gallery and try to make sense of art or read vociferously on history even if I could hardly understand its meaning. I am older now, with a better understanding and eyes to appreciate art and history and everything that it entails, good and bad.
I had a boss who once commented that history sides with the victor, and while he was not a mentor type of boss, these words stuck with me. Victories are won in bloody and sometimes deceptive methods (like The Treaty of Paris), and art springs out in the darkest mind states (like Van Gogh’s). Time proves that incalculable as they may be, they lead to unexpectedly beautiful and better things. There are times when I look at the displays in history and wonder whether we could have avoided so much suffering if people were more mindful of its consequences. Then again, we are human, and we hardly know what is bound to happen to us the next day. Like art, history has its way of meshing horror into something striking and magnificent, but only when we finish the piece and only when we walk through it and see the past.
This thought makes me realize that our growth will never be whole if we do not embrace this complexity. Leaders are creators, whether willing or reluctant, whether they know of it or not. Our efforts to create a legacy are wasted if it is not meaningful in cultivating each significant area for ourselves and others.
This reflection is my appreciation for my Integral Human Development class, which encouraged me to enrich my life further to give more. I stopped going to museums as I became busier, but not in the least because my life is more balanced.
An insignificant dot ― this is what seeing new art pieces, contemplating their meaning, and recalling history reminded me of obsessing over trifling everyday things. Ironically, these experiences encourage me to think even more deeply about daily decision-making. I am learning to appreciate how the decisions I make could impact myself and others. I must consider every interaction with other people important because they seek value and significance in their work.
The author is an MBA student at the Ramon V. del Rosario College of Business, DLSU. She can be reached at alyssa_cabanero@dlsu.edu.ph.
The views expressed above are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect the official position of DLSU, its faculty, and its administrators.
