New Perspectives

by Jason Dacuyan

A few days ago, my gastritis had struck again and since the pain was unbearable, I really had to go out and buy medicine from the drugstore. Mercury Drug Katipunan wasn’t far since I live in the Ateneo university dormitory but it was still a challenge for me with my stomach all fiery and painful. So I mustered up my courage and took a “trike” (short for tricycle) going to Mercury Drug. And did I mention how much I dislike trikes? They drive so recklessly fast leaving me kind of nauseated every time I go down. To add to that, the brakes on their motorcycles sound like those annoying sounds one makes when scratching the chalk board. Okay, so I buy my medicine but before I’m able to leave the drugstore, heavy rain fell and just my luck, I forgot to bring an umbrella. After faring the heavy rains for a few minutes, I finally found a trike going home. And it was on this trike ride that David Foster Wallace’s speech entered my mind.

At that moment in time, I was really tired and frustrated not to mention the gas pains that were currently happening in my stomach. “This is Water”, I told myself. As I paid attention to the heavy rains, the cars on the road beside my trike, the people on the sidewalks in umbrellas, and even the trike driver himself —I finally began to understand. I am not the center of the universe. I thought how the cars around me could have more urgent problems than me wanting to go home or how the trike driver might not have had lunch yet or he might also be sick but he’s risking his health to earn money for his family. I thought of the people who have to walk home under the heavy rain—only then that I felt lucky to be riding on a trike. I can control how and what I think, that’s what I realized. And once I was aware that I was aware, everything seemed okay.

The rain didn’t frustrate me anymore. I began to see it merely as rain, not some external factor giving me discomfort. The screeching brakes of the trike didn’t seem to matter anymore. The trike driver must have spent a lot just to have those brakes work properly and maybe he couldn’t do anything about the screeching sound anymore without spending more money. This experience has surprised me in a lot of ways. It has allowed me to see the bigger picture—that I am part of a greater whole. This must be what Simon Critchley meant when he said that philosophers seem to be elsewhere. And I was elsewhere. I was at that moment the same Jason but my mind was on the things around me. The experience was a big surprise and I was amazed at the realization. Although I already knew about these things after reading the articles, it really is different if you experience the realization firsthand.

Because of this experience, I also remembered Heidegger’s article about being in Being. I never really quite understood what it meant but now I think I have gained some understanding. By looking at the bigger picture and being aware of the things around me, I was moved. I was moved by Being. This must be what Heidegger meant about Philein which he described as a kind of harmony that reveals to us what it means to love and be sensitive to the vibration of the other. I think for a moment there, I experienced Philein with the people around me. I thought to myself, “If I’m already bothered and frustrated with all this rain, how much more the trike driver. He’s soaked from the rain.” Also, during my ride home, one car even splashed some water on the trike I was riding as it sped past a rain puddle. Normally, I would’ve been pissed. But because of my awareness, I was able to let it go and remind myself that I am part of a greater whole. I usually don’t bother thinking about these kinds of things at all. But I did think of these things. And because of that, I finally realized what Heidegger said about “being gathered together in Being” meant. Me, the trike driver, the cars, the road, the passersby, the tees—we’re all connected. We’re all expressing our Being, the dynamic act of existence, in a singular way. It means that we are part of something greater. I am part of something greater, something beyond and outside myself.

Everything seemed to connect —from Critchley, to Wallace, to Heidegger, and finally to Ferriols’ insight—seeing what something actually means as it exists. Who knew a mere tricycle ride could help me philosophize, gain some insight about the world and change my perspective. I choose what I think about. I get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn’t. I am part of a greater whole.