Thursday, January 31, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Closing a Page
One thing that I am always very thankful of is the fact that I have always been very very lucky to have had great managers, not just good, but great. They are one of the best managers in the world. As I am approaching the last day of work now and prepare to migrate to Canada in April, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming mix of emotions of gratitude, pride, and nostalgia
for the 11 years I have been with the company. I will surely miss my mentors who have helped shape me to who I am today.
I remember back 5 years ago, when we were about to certify the release of a new product but during the assembly of the first ones, we encountered a showstopper with units failing our tests. We had to determine what the failure was, why it occured and how to fix it in less than twenty four hours. The atmosphere was like that in the movie Apollo13 where all the NASA ground team would squeeze their brains out to get the solution. We needed to ship those products out. Ravi was my manager then, he is a physicist. While we were sitting down late at night, in the lab, exhausted from hours of brainstorming, after a long silence, he just quipped -- "Guys, really if you look at history, if you trace down where ALL brilliant ideas originate, you will find that all brilliant ideas form and germinate from a single mind and NOT from several minds. The team is there to provide information and build up the discussion which could lead to that idea but that idea will have to come from a single mind." He was always the one where when you are wriggling your way in the tiniest details, in a second, he'd fly you up a million miles above and show you how it looks like from the galaxy's perspective. I remember his words and it has influenced how I had worked. To this day, I have a lot of meetings and discussions but I always make sure I spend time away from everyone, to digest all those discussions, for me to get to that space where I could think for myself and reach into my idea bank which is unique (and hopefully brilliant :).
I also remember an advice that Scott, who is one of the coolest manager I have ever had, have given me some time ago. He told me that what is holding us back sometimes is the lack of belief in our own capabilities. We are not really fully sold out with the idea that we are brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous (as Nelson Mandela have said in his 1994 inaugural speech). We have moments of insecurity specially when we face people of higher status or higher percieved capabilities as we are. That sometimes we play small so that other people will not feel insecure around us or we would not be given bigger responsibilities or power, because deep down, we may fear that we are not worthy of that power.
I find this somewhat true for me and I think for most Filipinos, where it is deeply ingrained in me/us that we should always be humble, and humility really is a virtue. And pride is not a good thing. I remember a talk from one of the leaders in this country, she mentioned an incident where she was invited to a middle class house, and as they enter the doorway, the owner pointed out to her that the stairs had some holes and it still needs to be fixed and then moved on to apologize for the shabby wall painting and then for the old furniture and so on. The leader had said, "Why do we tend to notice the negative things about our house instead of mentioning the positives to our foreign visitor friends and letting them feel our sense of pride for who we are and what we have?"
From Scott, I learned that all I needed to do is to embrace it. To embrace my greatness. To embrace my brillliance. To embrace my light. I have done a lot of embracing since.
for the 11 years I have been with the company. I will surely miss my mentors who have helped shape me to who I am today.
I remember back 5 years ago, when we were about to certify the release of a new product but during the assembly of the first ones, we encountered a showstopper with units failing our tests. We had to determine what the failure was, why it occured and how to fix it in less than twenty four hours. The atmosphere was like that in the movie Apollo13 where all the NASA ground team would squeeze their brains out to get the solution. We needed to ship those products out. Ravi was my manager then, he is a physicist. While we were sitting down late at night, in the lab, exhausted from hours of brainstorming, after a long silence, he just quipped -- "Guys, really if you look at history, if you trace down where ALL brilliant ideas originate, you will find that all brilliant ideas form and germinate from a single mind and NOT from several minds. The team is there to provide information and build up the discussion which could lead to that idea but that idea will have to come from a single mind." He was always the one where when you are wriggling your way in the tiniest details, in a second, he'd fly you up a million miles above and show you how it looks like from the galaxy's perspective. I remember his words and it has influenced how I had worked. To this day, I have a lot of meetings and discussions but I always make sure I spend time away from everyone, to digest all those discussions, for me to get to that space where I could think for myself and reach into my idea bank which is unique (and hopefully brilliant :).
I also remember an advice that Scott, who is one of the coolest manager I have ever had, have given me some time ago. He told me that what is holding us back sometimes is the lack of belief in our own capabilities. We are not really fully sold out with the idea that we are brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous (as Nelson Mandela have said in his 1994 inaugural speech). We have moments of insecurity specially when we face people of higher status or higher percieved capabilities as we are. That sometimes we play small so that other people will not feel insecure around us or we would not be given bigger responsibilities or power, because deep down, we may fear that we are not worthy of that power.
I find this somewhat true for me and I think for most Filipinos, where it is deeply ingrained in me/us that we should always be humble, and humility really is a virtue. And pride is not a good thing. I remember a talk from one of the leaders in this country, she mentioned an incident where she was invited to a middle class house, and as they enter the doorway, the owner pointed out to her that the stairs had some holes and it still needs to be fixed and then moved on to apologize for the shabby wall painting and then for the old furniture and so on. The leader had said, "Why do we tend to notice the negative things about our house instead of mentioning the positives to our foreign visitor friends and letting them feel our sense of pride for who we are and what we have?"
From Scott, I learned that all I needed to do is to embrace it. To embrace my greatness. To embrace my brillliance. To embrace my light. I have done a lot of embracing since.
I have other several great learnings that I could share maybe in other days as this blog entry is getting long. What I could leave for now is a site by another one of my previous managers, Anand. Anand has been one of my elder mentors and his main influence on me has been to think outside the box. To question my current beliefs and to keep pounding that wall that we often unconscoiusly build around ourselves and our minds over time that makes us think the way we have always thought. A qoute from Einstein: " A problem cannot be solved by the same minds that created it".
Anand has a blog,
where he shares inspiring stories to busy professionals and people working in companies.
Needless to say, I feel proud for my stay here in this company. And as I take a step out into the "outside" world, I bring with me what one of the company's founders have ingrained in us - " Do not be encumbered by the past. Go out and do something wonderful". (Nowadays this qoute has already morphed into - Go out and do something ridiculous). Maybe going to Canada is ridiculous, but I am going anyway.
As I watch the soon to be released TV commercials that showcase the impact of our future products, I am filled with pride for having been a part of delivering the microprocessors, which have become a huge part of our lives today. (I wouldn't even be blogging now without it.)
A person had said of the microprocessor-- "this little thing is my lifeline to the world"..technology really has changed our lives. And to qoute the ad - "as the microprocessors continue to evolve, with more capabilities and more ingenuity, everyone has a chance to dream big dreams and do great things by finding their genius inside."
This small thumbsize microprocessor (picture below is just slightly larger than the real chip size) continues to change the world..and I will continue to watch it from the outside.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Friday Poems
I recently discovered how I could add links in this blog and to celebrate that, I am sharing you a link to one of my favorite poetry sites that was forwarded to me by an american friend years ago. I have since then subscribed to its weekly feed and to this day, I still look forward to the poems that Ted Kooser picks. His short introductions to the poems he had chosen are as valuable and inspiring to me as the poems themselves. Here is this week's choice.
American Life in Poetry: Column 148 (link to site here :)
BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE, 2004-2006
I've written about the pleasures of poetry that offers us vivid scenes but which lets us draw our own conclusions about the implications of what we're being shown. The poet can steer us a little by the selection of details, but a lot of the effect of the poem is in what is not said, in what we deduce. Lee McCarthy is a California poet, and here is something seen from across the street, something quite ordinary yet packed with life.
Santa Paula
There's a woman kissing a cowboy
across the street. His eight-year-old son
watches from the bus stop bench.
She's really planting one on him,
his Stetson in danger.
It must have been some weekend.
Seeing no room in that embrace for himself,
the boy measures his future, legs
straight out in front of him.
Both hands hold onto a suitcase handle,
thin arms ready to prove themselves.
It glided smoothly towards me
Glistening under the weak sun;
Like a red cat it purred and laid waiting
Ready to pounce for some fun;
I feel its salient power
Pulsing through its neat beige arms;
I am filled with anticipation
To experience a marvel created by man;
I could have sworn I was flying
As I didn’t feel the ground
Hugging it so tightly
Gracefully yielding to its masters capable hands;
I will remember that day
The day I rode a Porsche;
Passing ever so swiftly
Through the unworthy road.
American Life in Poetry: Column 148 (link to site here :)
BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE, 2004-2006
I've written about the pleasures of poetry that offers us vivid scenes but which lets us draw our own conclusions about the implications of what we're being shown. The poet can steer us a little by the selection of details, but a lot of the effect of the poem is in what is not said, in what we deduce. Lee McCarthy is a California poet, and here is something seen from across the street, something quite ordinary yet packed with life.
Santa Paula
There's a woman kissing a cowboy
across the street. His eight-year-old son
watches from the bus stop bench.
She's really planting one on him,
his Stetson in danger.
It must have been some weekend.
Seeing no room in that embrace for himself,
the boy measures his future, legs
straight out in front of him.
Both hands hold onto a suitcase handle,
thin arms ready to prove themselves.
Here is a poem that I wrote last year when I was in Oregon and got to meet an old friend who just bought his dream car - a red Porsche! (My friend promptly corrects me that it is pronounced as "por-tia" and not "porsh".) Having come from a developing country and never having seen a Porsche in my entire life, it was an unforgettable moment. Mainly because it was great to see an old friend and also because I got to ride a shiny new porsche, with the nice Oregon air blowing in my face (no rain!) and me getting to wave my hands out in the air like famous people do when they pass by crowds in their fancy cars during parades. For a moment, I felt super special. :)
Have a great weekend!
The Porsche
It glided smoothly towards me
Glistening under the weak sun;
Like a red cat it purred and laid waiting
Ready to pounce for some fun;
I feel its salient power
Pulsing through its neat beige arms;
I am filled with anticipation
To experience a marvel created by man;
I could have sworn I was flying
As I didn’t feel the ground
Hugging it so tightly
Gracefully yielding to its masters capable hands;
I will remember that day
The day I rode a Porsche;
Passing ever so swiftly
Through the unworthy road.
Monday, January 21, 2008
R is for Rose
I enjoy people very much. I think I will have several future blog entries on my encounters with some of the interesting people I have met, was touched by, read about and have learned from. I wouldn’t be who I am today without them. Even now, I look forward to continuing my adventures in the vast wonders of humanity, as I wake up every morning.
I don't remember exactly when Rose and I got close but I do have distinct memories of what I treasure in her.
I very much enjoyed our many lively and often bizarre discussions starting with her book series collection of Griffin and Sabine’s correspondence by Nick Bantock which I had borrowed and re-borrowed. For one, I had fun reading it during the night and then going to Rose’s cubicle at work to complain. The book was too symbolic for my very technical mind and I needed someone like Rose (who majors in psychology) to interpret it for me. We almost always ended up having different opinions and what started as possible logical explanation of events, would end up to being illogical, fancy and near crazy interpretations. And of course, Rose’s interpretation almost always ends up being closer to the truth than mine.
Rose is the only person I know who drinks starbucks coffee primarily to collect the receipts so she could enroll in Starbuck’s customer survey, answer the survey online (!), to get free book planners during the end of the year….and this she does, not just with Starbucks but with Fully Booked bookstore too. Yesterday, I saw her writing on her new sleek Fully Booked daily planner which she got because she probably is at their top twenty customer list. (And she probably will be one of the bookstore’s major shareholder someday, all because of the free daily planners they give at the end of the year. Imagine that.) Other daily planners that you could buy, don’t interest her. For Rose, it is definitely the journey (and probably the exclusivity of that journey) that matters.
What ties us together is our shared passion for drawing. Rose draws cartoons. She does most of her drawings during meetings, (when she is supposed to be listening and paying attention to the discussion – to which she would strongly emphasize that she IS listening and paying attention to the discussion). Sometimes I am tempted to schedule a meeting with Rose, make a bogus presentation and pretend to discuss something just so she can make those nice cartoon doodles for me.
I don't remember exactly when Rose and I got close but I do have distinct memories of what I treasure in her.
I very much enjoyed our many lively and often bizarre discussions starting with her book series collection of Griffin and Sabine’s correspondence by Nick Bantock which I had borrowed and re-borrowed. For one, I had fun reading it during the night and then going to Rose’s cubicle at work to complain. The book was too symbolic for my very technical mind and I needed someone like Rose (who majors in psychology) to interpret it for me. We almost always ended up having different opinions and what started as possible logical explanation of events, would end up to being illogical, fancy and near crazy interpretations. And of course, Rose’s interpretation almost always ends up being closer to the truth than mine.
Rose is the only person I know who drinks starbucks coffee primarily to collect the receipts so she could enroll in Starbuck’s customer survey, answer the survey online (!), to get free book planners during the end of the year….and this she does, not just with Starbucks but with Fully Booked bookstore too. Yesterday, I saw her writing on her new sleek Fully Booked daily planner which she got because she probably is at their top twenty customer list. (And she probably will be one of the bookstore’s major shareholder someday, all because of the free daily planners they give at the end of the year. Imagine that.) Other daily planners that you could buy, don’t interest her. For Rose, it is definitely the journey (and probably the exclusivity of that journey) that matters.
What ties us together is our shared passion for drawing. Rose draws cartoons. She does most of her drawings during meetings, (when she is supposed to be listening and paying attention to the discussion – to which she would strongly emphasize that she IS listening and paying attention to the discussion). Sometimes I am tempted to schedule a meeting with Rose, make a bogus presentation and pretend to discuss something just so she can make those nice cartoon doodles for me.
Here are samples of her nice and fun work. I have gotten her permission to put them in this blog. She tells me that I am using her drawings to make up for my slack of not having made anything of my own lately. (She is partly right, as always. :) The other reason is that I really admire her for her free style cartoons and really, people should see her drawings. I couldn’t wait to see what her drawings will be five years from now. The latest of her drawings is a bird drawing where she practiced using watercolor pencils. (I couldn’t scan it at this time unfortunately). She use to tell me that she is not a watercolor person because she likes the very clean and neat outlines that her pen creates as well as the control that pen and ink medium gives . (She painstakingly shades the outline, thickens it with a fine point pen and makes it look like she had used a thicker pen or paintbrush.) But on her recent bird drawing, she veered away from that and still has her distinctive style showing.
That’s one of the things I like about Rose, she is very distinct being her own person. I remember I use to struggle finding my own voice, my own identity. In a way, I still am continuing that process of searching and redefining who I am.
Art is a beautiful way of knowing and exploring one’s self. Because you cannot express in paper what you are not in person.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
New Year 2008
As with all my Christmas and New year vacations, I spent my holidays with my family back home in Ormoc City. Ormoc used to be a small city, small enough for people to know almost everyone they see in the streets. Now, I could barely recognize anyone. The streets seem to have shrunk and the tricycles multiplied by the hundreds and buzzing like flies. Judging by the presence of a Jollibee branch, a dunkin donuts outlet and a high end coffee bar where the cost of a cup of coffee is much more than an average farmer could afford, the city has changed a lot.
It's not just the city. My family used to live in a big clan house together with all the other five main families on my father's side. (I say "main" because there are secondary families from the second generation that got added, which makes it more than five.) We use to share the living room, kitchen and dining rooms everyday. Mealtimes were always as noisy and as loud as the marketplace.
Christmas and New years were spent with all families - from the first to the third generation, huddled in the living room where baskets and baskets of gifts were showered over the lucky third generation kids. Each child recieves at least five gifts from the five different main families.
And there are at least twenty third generation kids to track. It takes more than an hour to distribute all the gifts to each kid, with chaos mounting as the mounds of crumpled giftwrappers grow and threaten to bury the smaller kids alive.
New Years were spent with everyone gathered outside the lawn and the men lighting up the fire crackers as the clock strikes midnight and we all each hug all our cousins, uncles, aunts, sisters, brothers, in laws, maids, dogs etc. It takes less than an hour to hug everyone, that is if we were lucky enough to find them amidst the melee or sober enough not to end up double hugging everyone as we often forget who we've already hugged earlier.
But this year was different. Our clan house is no longer ours. All the families except one are already living in different houses. We barely see each other.
Christmas was strained with most of the first generation "elders" not joining and we celebrated New Year just within my own family (with my mom, sister, brother and our kids). KC, my niece, commented, "This is the most boring new year ever." I couldn't blame her. It was a peaceful and intimate New Year for me but for a child like KC, it was a big change from the chaos she was used to.
This Christmas holiday was also the grand twentieth year reunion of my highschool batchmates from year 1987. I wasn't able to attend as it was scheduled much earlier than my arrival date but I could view the pictures and read about what transpired from our batch webpages. On the outside, it was your usual fun and great-to-see-you-again-after-all-these-years reunion stuff. But what surprised me were the stories I heard that occurred behind the scenes...the ones you wouldn't see in the photos, wouldn't find in the emails or wouldn't notice on the faces of people you talk to. Along with all the stories of success, achievements, and funny moments, there were also stories of elicit affairs, fighting, sex and scandals. Most of the time, I would find myself gasping,"Did he really do that??!" .."Did she really say that?".."She what??!" .."You what???!!" My neck hurt from all the head shaking from disbelief. I couldn't believe that the pictures I had in my mind of my batchmates, were no longer true....and I wonder how much of me has changed.
Sometimes I find myself resisting change. I love change but there are moments like now where for a second, I wish things wouldn't change. That everything would be always like they were..like furnitures, like rocks, like diamonds.
But then again, they would have to stay motionless to stay the same.
I don't think I'd like to live life like a stone.
Life is like water, change is its waves.
As the new year comes and a new life awaits, I take to my feet and ride the waves.
Image by my friend Doug Petit. I miss you my friend.
It's not just the city. My family used to live in a big clan house together with all the other five main families on my father's side. (I say "main" because there are secondary families from the second generation that got added, which makes it more than five.) We use to share the living room, kitchen and dining rooms everyday. Mealtimes were always as noisy and as loud as the marketplace.
Christmas and New years were spent with all families - from the first to the third generation, huddled in the living room where baskets and baskets of gifts were showered over the lucky third generation kids. Each child recieves at least five gifts from the five different main families.
And there are at least twenty third generation kids to track. It takes more than an hour to distribute all the gifts to each kid, with chaos mounting as the mounds of crumpled giftwrappers grow and threaten to bury the smaller kids alive.
New Years were spent with everyone gathered outside the lawn and the men lighting up the fire crackers as the clock strikes midnight and we all each hug all our cousins, uncles, aunts, sisters, brothers, in laws, maids, dogs etc. It takes less than an hour to hug everyone, that is if we were lucky enough to find them amidst the melee or sober enough not to end up double hugging everyone as we often forget who we've already hugged earlier.
But this year was different. Our clan house is no longer ours. All the families except one are already living in different houses. We barely see each other.
Christmas was strained with most of the first generation "elders" not joining and we celebrated New Year just within my own family (with my mom, sister, brother and our kids). KC, my niece, commented, "This is the most boring new year ever." I couldn't blame her. It was a peaceful and intimate New Year for me but for a child like KC, it was a big change from the chaos she was used to.
This Christmas holiday was also the grand twentieth year reunion of my highschool batchmates from year 1987. I wasn't able to attend as it was scheduled much earlier than my arrival date but I could view the pictures and read about what transpired from our batch webpages. On the outside, it was your usual fun and great-to-see-you-again-after-all-these-years reunion stuff. But what surprised me were the stories I heard that occurred behind the scenes...the ones you wouldn't see in the photos, wouldn't find in the emails or wouldn't notice on the faces of people you talk to. Along with all the stories of success, achievements, and funny moments, there were also stories of elicit affairs, fighting, sex and scandals. Most of the time, I would find myself gasping,"Did he really do that??!" .."Did she really say that?".."She what??!" .."You what???!!" My neck hurt from all the head shaking from disbelief. I couldn't believe that the pictures I had in my mind of my batchmates, were no longer true....and I wonder how much of me has changed.
Sometimes I find myself resisting change. I love change but there are moments like now where for a second, I wish things wouldn't change. That everything would be always like they were..like furnitures, like rocks, like diamonds.
But then again, they would have to stay motionless to stay the same.
I don't think I'd like to live life like a stone.
Life is like water, change is its waves.
As the new year comes and a new life awaits, I take to my feet and ride the waves.
Image by my friend Doug Petit. I miss you my friend.
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