No Boundaries: Tribute to Workplace Mentors 2

I’ve been so blessed to have worked under bosses who mentored their people so that everyday work became an adventure of sorts.

They opened my eyes to fresh concepts and new ways of looking at things. Two of them pushed me to my limits, even if at times the process became traumatic or painful.

Winston Marbella, one of my former bosses in San Miguel Corporation, was my marketing guru. A once-upon-a-time physics student tutored by one of Eistein’s former students, he started his professional life as a journalist, moving later to public relations, marketing, then business management.

His legacy: “Think strategic. Think differently. Challenge ideas. Do not accept them for what they are.”

One of my most loved superiors was Eli Pinto-Mansor (she went to be with the Lord a few years back), my boss at the (once mighty, now history) Construction and Development Corporation of the Philippines (CDCP).

She showed how, with an eye for detail, minutest things could be incorporated into concepts and designs, turning the ordinary into spectacular.

Eli saw potential in people. She pushed us to our limits, even to the point of hurt. I would not have known what lay dormant inside if she didn’t demand excellence and my best and most creative effort.

She believed I was a writer even if I doubted that. I didn’t even consider myself a good enough writer. But she let, rather made, me write—feature articles in our corporate newsletter—until I discovered I really had it in me.

She gave me leeway to play around and have fun with the company’s stockholders’ meeting audio-visual presentation (AVP).

So I went ga-ga with my ideas and for the AVP’s opening spiel, used the “Pink Panther” theme music, replacing its lyrics with, “Your company has reached a billion mark, taran-taran!” Imagine the mixed reactions from the audience of mostly spiffy investors. It merited a comment from the Asian Wall Street Journal!

While producing this particular AVP, I made a very expensive booboo which I thought was unforgivable, so I offered to resign.

”It was costly,” Eli replied, but if that’s what’s needed to learn, so learn,” and assured me of her confidence. I never hesitated to work for her again when she asked me to join her later in another company. (Sorry to Burst Your Bubble, p.45)

Eli made such an impact in the Philippine design industry, when in a latter job at the Center for International Trade Expositions and Missions (CITEM, where I worked with her for a year), she took up-and-coming Filipino designers under her wings to develop world-class fashion and home accessories using indigenous Philippine raw materials.

Fearless, protective, passionate, but a mothering type, Eli helped define the course of my professional life: No boundaries.

After CITEM, a former colleague convinced me to move to Manila Hilton International (after which I went back to San Miguel). Having served three expatriate general managers in the hotel—an Englishman and two Germans— I sort of concluded that European bosses were objective, fair, professional, and gave their workers due recognition.

They taught me how global managers must behave. While respecting the culture of their host countries, they equally demanded professionalism from their staff.

Tribute to Workplace Mentors 1

We all have our mentors, those who’ve left some indelible imprints on our character through various stages of our lives. Before my mind gets fuzzy, let me run through some of my workplace superiors and the lessons I learned from them:

Frankie Evangelista, kind-hearted and funny boss

The late Frankie “Ka Kiko” Evangelista. Quite an institution as a veteran TV news and public affairs anchor, he was my boss in Channel 13, my second job. He never flaunted he was “boss,” treated us like family and felt secure with his subordinates being such a bunch of extremely talented people. Among my colleagues were gifted writers Danny Javier, member of then up and coming singing sensation Apo Hiking Society; and Gemma Nemenzo, a scion of the brainy Nemenzos of UP (University of the Philippines).

Frankie treated us all equally and was generous with his praises. He knew how to motivate just by a tap on the shoulder or a humorous off-the-cuff comment—most of the time said in his disarming Tagalog accent. He referred to Gemma and me as “my girls” in a fatherly way.

The late Bren Guiao, my boss in RFM Corporation before he became Pampanga governor. We had a pretty tense incident after our head office inauguration. I don’t remember how it started, but our conversation grew into a shouting match. Probably piqued by my stubbornness, he told me to resign, so I did—and walked off. That was the last he saw of me.

It took years before I could muster the courage to tell him how sorry I was. He welcomed me with no recriminations, just like a father would. When he became Pampanga governor afterwards and I occasionally visited him with some of his former staff, he made it a point to see us even briefly even if he had hordes of politicos and kababayans waiting in line. He would then treat us to the best restaurants in the provincial capital, and send us back to Manila with loads of Kapampangan goodies.

Bren Guiao (top photo) and Bert Pasquin (bottom photo, extreme right), my PR mentors

He and Bert Pasquin, his then right hand man in RFM, whose path I crossed with in three other companies, patiently taught me the rudiments of public relations and news writing—even if I hated disciplined writing because I was more at home with creative writing.

Lose to Gain: Gems from The Biggest Loser and More

"Loser!" Someone naming you that might ordinarily spark a whack attack, a word war or worse, a fist fight.

It's one of those killer words bullies or those with illusions of grandeur or power heap on those they perceive to be weak or unable to fight back.

But thanks to its image-handlers, "Loser!" seems to have taken on a new spin---plucking it out of rehab and giving it a total make-over.

Television's reality show, The Biggest Loser, has grown into such a worldwide franchise that it tops viewership ratings wherever it broadcasts.

Recently, we became a church-ful of rah-rah folks for someone we prayed for to be this season's biggest loser. Eboy one day texted that he would be incomunicado for sometime; and asked for prayers while he competed in The Biggest Loser. At 481 pounds, he needed to act to avert a heart attack.

A gifted musician (he sings and plays the keyboard and drums plus other musical instruments), artist and budding entrepreneur, Eboy must have been born with humor hard-wired into his DNA.

We are alternately guffawing, snickering or stiffling our chuckles whenever Eboy manages a banter or pun in between songs during praise and worship practice. This is how we've always seen Eboy---mega-man inside and out. Note his Facebook remark re his photo with family and friends: "Team Tarre, Pata Team and Jabba."

Eboy realized he needed to whittle himself down if he wants to live to a ripe old age. So it was all systems go when he passed The Biggest Loser prequals. He may have been eliminated from the competition earlier than the others, but he continues to gain---his health, longevity, and yes, his handsome good looks, and definitely fans---as he loses more body mass.

I'm one of those believing Eboy will make a comeback in The Biggest Loser.

A few days ago, I felt even happier for Eboy---that things are working out for him as he had prayed for---after seeing a TV documentary about the super obese.

It featured a lady so overweight she had to either always be in bed or or pushed around in a giant wheelchair because the big mass from her legs started to fold under her heels. Big slabs had to be removed from her thighs and legs to enable her to walk again. After her operation, simple things---which we normally take for granted like being able to shop in the supermarket---had become such liberating experiences for her.

How about that---Eboy runs regularly today!

"I'm so fat!" I'd always complain whenever I faced the mirror while attempting to shrink my insides (by not breathing!) to fit myself into a dress; followed by this self-deprecating remark: "I look like a refrigerator."

Well, not anymore---since these above images. What am I complaining about?

Exercise, reduce your intake if you must; but never belittle and be thankful for the body you were born with. Genes and heredity have a lot to do with it too. That's why some people are bigger or smaller than others.

"I'm fat!" Said a young lady so reed-thin, she could easily be knocked over by a faint afternoon breeze. Then she would constantly fidget, believing that her eternal shaking would burn her calories so she could be thinner. (I think I read this too somewhere.)

Actually, for most of us, the battle is not really with the bulge. Call it low self-esteem, insecurity, discontent. We may exercise or ballroom-dance till we drop or diet till our cravings die but that's no guarantee we'd be happy with that vision in the mirror.

Some seemingly perfect-bodied and good-looking women (and men!) still have their lipo, lift and tuck. Lips get thickened. (A popular singer looks awful today because of her too out-turned lips. Whoever told them belles they could be next Angelina Jolies?!) Noses receive a trim or get cantilevered, while wayward ears are sewn closer to the nape. Good thing, I can only afford a facial, and even that is just once in a blue moon.

Fear. That's the underlying issue. "I look fat." "Look at my wrinkles." "I'm ugly." Most of these express our concerns about how others may look at us. But surely God did not make a mistake when He wove us so wonderfully in our mothers' wombs.

I'm glad Eboy is on his way to health, and that once super-obese lady now functions as a normal human being. Thank God for scientific advances, opportunities and people sent our way to help solve our health problems---in spite of our genetic predispositions or neglect or abuse.

But after the long and short of it, our daily dose of joy comes not from having gained all these but in knowing that our lives are in the palm of the one who shaped us into being.

In Genesis, God created an awesome universe and saw that it was good. After crafting Adam and Eve, what He saw thrilled Him so, because it was "Very good!"

We are His piece de resistance. And He must have added, "Lovely."

Seeking Shelter

I hang on to every word, every promise, as we pored over Psalm 91.

This I did (with our bible study group of nine) while Jack painted metaphors of Jesus being our fortress and our place of safety in our prayer meeting last night.

And this while typhoon Mina---said to linger for about a week and therefore cause more damage---threatened to batter northern Luzon; and hurricane Irene endlessly analyzed by CNN to bring havoc in New York and neighboring cities just like Hollywood would portray it in a disaster movie.

Psalm 91 is such a shelter for hearts constantly battered by fear. But to experience peace in the middle of the storm is not as easy as psyching yourself to stay calm, "Peace, all will be well."

Experiencing peace is a big IF. The key is not our prayer or trusting that prayer can move mountains. (But yes, we must pray because He desires humility, signifying our faith and dependence on Him.)

The answer is: Jesus, Lord of all creation.

"If you make the most high your dwelling---even the Lord who is my refuge---then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways." (Psalm 91:9-11)

For He is the most High (v. 1)! The most high God is our creator, the great God, the Almighty!

So if Jesus is our dwelling place and shelter, we can rest under His shadow.

"I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust (v. 2).' "

Dengue, HIV, H1N1, cancer, diabetes, coronary disease. You name it! If it's not dreaded disease, it's earthquake or hurricane or tsunami. Or drought and famine, like those decimating Africa where thousands die of hunger and malnutrition daily.

Add to that the wars and rumors of wars experienced right now in Syria, Libya and other middle east countries; and shades of those as Israel and more developed nations contend with almost invisible terrorists from the left and right of the political spectrum---those who inflict damage and sow terror with their lightning speed bombings or killings in seemingly well-guarded or policed urban areas.

Because of these, people's hearts are fainting! Panic pervades though unseen.

"Surely He will save you from the fowler's snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

"You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday." (v. 3-6)

If we love Him, promised the Lord, He will rescue us.

"I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my SALVATION." (v.14-16)

How is this so? The lyricists of this song assure us:

"You are God alone
From before time began
You were on your throne
You are God alone
And right now
In the good times and bad
You are on your throne
You are God alone

"Unchangeable
Unshakable
Unstoppable
That's what You are!"

Jesus. Who can come against Him?

If God spared nothing to save us---to the point of Jesus dying on the cross to give us eternal life and reconcile us to the Father---will He not freely give us all things including the safety and peace we so crave for everyday?

Flaunt the Truth

"If it doesn't bother them, why should it bother us?" Commented a talk show host on the topic of having not just one but more housewives or partners.

Backtrack to Genesis when the world was still young. "Am I my brother's keeper?" Shot back Cain when the Lord inquired about his brother Abel whom he murdered.

The shrug. The cold shoulder. The "I don't care, it's none of my business!" routine.

That's how we normally respond even if we sense a wrong or when someone is in hot water. Because we'd rather not be involved. Their life is their business, we reason out.

It's as if the whole world's become a stage and we're content to be an audience, a bystander or one who gawks, amused at how people are able to entertain us with their multi-season soap operas.

Of course we couldn't meddle in other people's lives. "Pakialamera" is how we usually label those who stick their nose into other people's affairs. I couldn't tell my neighbor how to live his or her life. Judge not so you will not be judged.

But we must certainly be uneasy and speak out if the lie is flaunted as the truth, or the wrong declared right.

Why has the truth been muffled in the hoopla about same-sex marriage or relationships outside of the sanctity of marriage?

Can it be that more and more young people are believing what they're believing now because right-believers' voices have been stymied by this overpowering truth-is-relative tidal wave---that truth is what one makes it?

For example, in more advanced nations like Australia, it's no longer politically correct to say "husband" or "wife." Use "partner" because live-in couples must not be offended.

It helps, of course, that popular gay celebrities have a long time ago come out of the closet. Elton John proudly announced recently that he and his husband, er, wife(?) are now proud parents of a cute baby.

The same-sex-marriage movement has been rumbling across the USA like the deadly tsunami, pressuring more and more state legislatures to enact laws favoring gay relationships and families. Politicians, eager to please their constituents (read voters) have no choice but to give in to popular thinking.

Hollywood purveys sexual promiscuity like a casual "hi!" and "hello!" handshake. Our own TV celebrities openly talk of their fleeting relationships which sometimes result in babies out of wedlock.

How can we afford to keep quiet when the truth as we know it is now talked about as archaic and jurassic, with no use in our modern techie world?

The truth, as revealed by God all over the bible, and very specifically in the ten commandments, has not changed, and will not change in spite of our grumblings.

"Too old-fashioned!" "Very severe!" "Encroaches on my freedom!" "I have a right to choose and if I suffer, I suffer!"

Suffer hell? Frankly, yes. Disobedience---the bible calls it rebellion---merits nothing less than this.

And those who insist on following their own "truth," are unwittingly taking a roller-coaster dive to that place of eternal fiery punishment. Unless!

God is not willing for any one to perish or be in a constant state of waywardness! That's why He gave us Jesus.

He loves (Yes, His love goes on and will never be diminished in spite of our continuing rebellion!) us all so much that He was willing to send His Son to take the penalty of our sins. Only the saving grace and love of Jesus can open our eyes to the monstrosity of sin and our sinful nature, and enable us to walk obediently.

So in the same way that God was motivated by love, may His love also motivate us to speak out against sin and its eternal consequence for those who continue to scoff at truth as we know it.

I write not as one without sin. I too am a sinner saved by His grace. I once believed my life was my own and that I was accountable to no one. Jesus reoriented my confused mind and gave me a new heart to believe that His was the only way, and His way would lead to life, not condemnation or hell. Someone loved me enough to pray for me and let me know Jesus cared.

We are to be our brothers' keepers.

Polaroid Eyes

My heart raced a bit when I saw those blooms.

Blue-violet, bright blue and blue-green flowerettes crowned some shrubs and bushes as I drove home from school yesterday.

"I never saw that before," I mused.

So I did a double take, lifting my sunglasses, and stopping for a while to soak in this rare sight and double-check if my eyes saw what they really saw. "Hey, where did the flowers go?" I thought.

Putting my shades back on and looking at the trees again, those shooting buds were back! And the bigger trees had their leaves in varying shades of deepest greens and blue green. Were my eyes playing a trick on me?

Then I realized: my new polaroid glasses!

I remember the SM saleslady salestalking me into it, "Use this ordinary sunglasses," she insructs. "Now, with these polaroids, look at that same object." I got hooked. The colors behind those polaroids really seemed different and easier on the eyes.

Those "flowers" were in fact just leaves trumpeting their loudest and deepest hues under the sun. Passing by more shrubs and trees, I was a kid again, reveling in the beauty of creation.

But it was not just my polaroids. The sun had a lot to do with this most unusual exprience. Without the bright rays seeping through the atmosphere and highlighting those trees, I wouldn't have seen the hidden colors.

It must have been a million-fold breathtaking when Jesus created the world and He commanded His Alpha and Omega palette of colors to permeate every tree, every grass, every flower and every bit of His creation!

Recall that it was with His own burst of heavenly colors that God promised He would never send the great flood again to destroy the earth. The rainbow sealed that covenant of His grace.

Oh, that we would view everything not just with polaroid lens but with His eyes.

More than this, I pray that we would understand the things happening around us with His wisdom and treat one another with His love and compassion.

Because God didn't stop with just giving us this earth. Jesus himself came down from His exalted place in heaven, became man, died on behalf of sinful humanity, "that those who would believe in Him may have everlasting life and have life to the full."

Now, that's seeing things through His heart!

(Photo credit: rainbowwallpaper.info)

Words to Sink a Ship

"Words! Words! Words! I'm so sick of words! I get words all day through; first from him, now from you. Is that all you blighters can do?"

I'f you've seen the Broadway musical, "My Fair Lady," eons past (some of you may just have been a figment of your mom or dad's imagination then, circa 1960s), you'll recall the main character, Eliza Doolittle, played by legendary actress Audrey Hepburn, ranting about her male admirers' propensity for talking and not acting.

That's what we all are--- talkers first, performers second.

Because words come easy. You can promise, you can wax romantic or poetic, and tickle one's ears with words. But sometimes we spill out words in the same way we burp or pass air or yawn or let out a sigh.

We go careless with words like, "You're stupid!" "What a jerk!" "Oh, s__t!"

We most of the time don't mean it, but words like these can mince and dice and cut through our core, enough to separate one's juice from his pulp.

"My son will not amount to anything," I heard a father speak of his son in the presence of guests, and in the hearing of his son.

"As a man thinks, so is he," says the bible.

I wonder how the father's careless words were reinforced many times over in this young man's mind. I'm not surprised at all that he turned to drugs, never finished his education and led a wayward life.

Words are powerful. God used words to speak the universe into being. "Let there be light, and there was light."

So it is a choice---to use life words that will either build up and bring light to a situation, or killer words which can cut one's spirit to shreds.

And it is words we use everyday to put our country down. I'm guilty of that too.

"Wala nang mangyayari sa bansa natin, hindi na tayo magbabago." "We don't see change happening. Our country will continue to be like this because of graft and corruption." We hear this like a song's constant refrain, during breaktimes, in our tete-a-tete with friends. As a nation thinks, so it is!

If words could kill, and our nation were a boat, then we are now shipwrecked and at the bottom of the ocean because of the killer words we've spoken about our nation and our situation.

We're commanded to pray and speak only of what is noble, true, kind, just, uplifting. Nowhere in the bible are we told to complain. In fact, God hated complainers so much, He caused an entire generation of Jews to die in the desert, letting them go round and round and round in the wilderness for 40 years. And they were His chosen people!

But what about the shenanigans, the corruption? Should we just keep quiet and let the law-breakers do their own thing?

God has appointed leaders and governments to enforce the law. We need to pray for them, and definitely expose corruption and help bring the guilty to task.

Let's pray for our president, our lawmakers and those who need to enforce the law and prosecute the guilty.

But let's cease complaining and let's start obeying the rules which we ourselves are guilty of breaking: bribing municipal officials because we could not wait for our papers to be processed (padulas), crossing the street where we shouldn't, driving through a red light or counter-flow, cutting through a queue, etc., etc!

All of us, not just our government officials, need a change of heart. Unless we all realize this, we will continue to point fingers and complain and be fearful of our children's future in this country.

The people groan if their leaders are corrupt, says the Book of books. So instead of complaining, let's be down on our knees praying, and obeying the law as well.

Blight---anything which destroys, frustrates or causes anything to wither, like a plant.

Eliza Doolittle chirped that those who use, "words, words, words," are blighters. It's a choice we need to make daily to destroy or build up, speak life or death.

If we believe that God is in control, then He is in control. If we believe---especially collectively believe (evidenced by our complaining)---that He isn't, then He'll withhold action.

Come to think of it, our prayers get cancelled out because of our complaining. Faith and fear are like water and oil. They can never mix.

So let's act as if He is in control. Let's be careful with our words and obey His Word.