What's In A Name?

"Good afternoon, class. I am your religion teacher. You can call me Bro. Keith. Pero pag feeling close kayo, Kitoy na lang."

It's not the standard introduction for a teacher, but hey, I'm not an Education graduate. But this is how I introduced myself to my third year class in Majada In High School. Then recently, something triggered me to write this reflection. There is something special about names.

Its a mystery how our parents come to choose our names. Lucky for me, I have a single-word, five-letter name, so it wasn't so difficult during my elementary years writing my name or rushing things during my biology speed exam in high school. Some others are not as lucky, having more names, while others have weird names. Names are truly magical.

We ask our parents how'd they arrive at such a name. Growing up, we never mind at first, but sooner or later, you'll learn to ask. People call you by that name. Friends tease you by playing with that name. So what's in a name? Your name supposedly defines who you are as a person.

In Biblical times, I have learned, that names give you power over something. Only someone higher can give names. That's why Adam was given the chance to name all creation because he is the steward and that's also why God couldn't be named, just I AM, because no one's higher than Him. If we could choose our names at birth, we could have picked one that we really liked and one that would really define us but lucky us, we were powerless before the creativity of our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and other relatives. Manky Pacquiao (Manny-Jingky) are you there?

Most people know me by my name "Keith". My friends call me "Kitoy". But very few know me by a third name. I really hold it sacred and dear to me. Telling it to another person feels like handing over my total person. When I shared my name to another, it feels like a real communion of persons and not just a drive-by getting-to-know-you act.

Hearing that name or remembering being called by that name certainly gives me goosebumps. Only people who truly loved me called me that way. Googling the internet shows I am the only Keith Amodia in the whole world. Googling more, I find that there are also many Keith's whose nickname is Kitoy. But my sacred name, something secret to a circle of family and very close friends, wakes me from a deep slumber and reminds me of who I am.

How do they call you? And what's in your name?

If Today Were The Last

If today were the last of my days, how would I live it?

One very Salesian habit I have acquired is to anticipate the hour of my death. When everyone is lost living in the moment of pleasure blissfully placing aside the impending thought of mortality, death seems so far away it seems it doesn't exist in our paths. But we know that death has its own surprises. It comes and it goes. One day we just find ourselves missing someone, or we find someone missing us.

If today were the last of my days, how would I live it?


Indeed, if today were my last, how would I live it? I question how I have lived my twenty four years of life. Have I become a good person? Have I made many friends? Have I touched lives? How would people write my eulogy, or how would they write my biography?

If today were the last of my days, how would I live it?


In the face of death everything falls into place. What we think was important was nothing but vanity. What we took for granted is actually everything. People would matter more and loving would make more sense. As the clock ticks, time is running out. Each day is a day nearer to death. What really matters? Where should I place myself in?

If today were the last of my days, how would I live it?


When the time comes for me to see my lifeless body, I hope my only failures would be failures from my own immaturity and not failures that I willed to happen. I hope I would have less regrets or that I have made most of my things to do before I die. And I hope that I die smiling and in peace.

If today were the last of my days, how would I live it?


A simple question could change the way we think, act, and live. If today were the last, how would I spend it?

The In-between

There is a certain moment in our our growth, that subtle change, when we learn to stop wondering. Our sense of wonder fades as we enter into normalcy. Everything appears normal. Boringly normal.

It is good to stop a while and revisit my self. Just when did I learn to stop wondering about the world around me? When did I stop looking up the sky and look at the many shapes that the clouds form or ask what's beyond the stars? When did I stop to be amazed at how my feet firmly holds the earth and not float away into space? In the distant past, the world was full of wonders. It was full of magic. It was full of adventures.

I remember getting excited riding the jeep. Now, travel's become a bore and the sights that pass before my eyes remain but a passing blur. I remember the joy of being under the rain and drinking it. Now, the rain brings gloom and inconvenience. What happened in between?

The in-between, the mysterious in-between, tells me how easy it is to forget. It tells me how easily we grow up to become boring adults. It tells me how time can dull our sense of wonder simply because we begin to take things for granted. Now I wonder how'd I react if the sky were to disappear from the ceiling of earth, or that there'd be no rain under storm clouds.

I see it an invitation for me to always practice gratitude and to wonder again at the beauty and magic of the world. Seeing more than what we see can open our eyes to the treasure that had long sat in front of us.