Photo by Ekaterina Z. on Unsplash
It’s been five years.
I remember during those days, I couldn’t go to sleep without thinking first about what to write the following day. It was an exciting experience for me. Discovering a platform that I could use to write my thoughts gives me euphoria.
Writing in this personal blog is a therapy for me. I write whatever there is to write, what comes to mind, without thinking so much about reactions from the audience. I wasn’t even aware of the audience.
It was, I think, in 2005 when I started this blog. I met a lot of bloggers, talented, amazing ones. I learned a lot from the experience of communicating, keeping in touch through comments, and reciprocating their visits.
Before I forget about the topic, I have to cut the story short. There will be more stories to come anyway.
This morning, our help (kasambahay in the Filipino language) told a story about her experience with a neighbor. We talked about the danger of fire in a neighborhood where houses are made of light materials and roughly built.
She caught the 8-year-old boy playing with fire for some pieces of paper trash using a lighter. Our help told the grandfather about the incident. Unexpectedly, the grandfather got mad and whipped the boy. He got a piece of wood nearby and used it to beat him.
I cannot recall the following lines of the story because I had to dress up for work. But while inside our room, I was thinking about where the grandfather’s common sense went. Sure, he was pissed at what the boy did but whipping him hard with a piece of wood did not make sense.
More so, what if the poor boy incurred an injury because of the blows? Can they bring him to the hospital when money is scarce? Or is there money to even treat the wounds when there isn’t enough food on the table?
The family is poor, and the mother tries to make ends meet. I know we need to remember the ‘don’t judge’ rule. But I can’t understand the application of senseless beating when the grandfather could have talked to the boy and explained the danger of playing with fire.
Most of us homo sapiens experience these episodes at one point in our lives where common sense is missing. Of course, we always tend to escape from the harshness of the truth or the reality. We justify our deeds and deny that our common sense is missing. Our insecurities get the best of us, so we redirect the anger or frustration to another individual.
Some of us don’t even know that common sense exists. The need to get what some of us want the easy way most stupidly transforms us into beings without common sense.
Or maybe some of us are beaten by the circumstances in life. That can be understood, but there’s an exemption. If individuals engage, for example, in embarrassing or undesirable situations repeatedly, where is common sense?
My former boss used to say, “You know common sense is there, but sometimes, it’s missing,” shaking his head. This was when he was feeling frustrated with incompetent subordinates.
It may be a boring read, but I felt the need to write as I fear the looming downfall of a nation because of the lack of common sense.
Warmstone 