I was young when I started to learn how to “haling” in our “abuhan”. I used screw caps of soft drinks, cellophanes, papers, and even gas as fuel just to start a fire for cooking. It was always a challenge. Why couldn’t we just have a gas stove for easy use? Why couldn’t we use a rice cooker to make life easier?
But no, I had to learn because it became part of cooking—setting up a fire. A struggle I battled every day. It didn’t get better. I had no routine, no perfect technique to make it work. Maybe I didn’t want to learn. Maybe I was just forced to do it. Or maybe I was meant to learn a monumental principle. But what was it?
Back then, I believed I would never have to do it in the future—a future where I could simply plug in and press the cook button of a rice cooker. I thought it was just a phase. And it was.
Living downtown meant no more haling. With the convenience of a rice cooker, a gas stove, and everything electric, I forgot about it. Haling what? One press, I can eat. One plug, everything becomes easy.
Or so I thought. I never truly escaped haling, at least not in its literal sense. Haling became more complex. My effort, time, patience, and skills became the fuel of my adult version of haling. It became the standard of success and excellence. To excel is to add more fuel to succeed. To succeed is to add more fuel to excel.
I joined JCI carrying these fuels with me. JCI becomes my abuhan. I now stoke my time, patience, and skills to keep the fire alive. What started haling in the abuhan has become haling in the field of life, in JCI. I may not have mastered it, but I continue to do it to sustain the fire within me and to forge leadership.
What started as haling in the abuhan has become haling in the field of life.
So, maybe haling in my childhood taught me that principle—to fuel what I have to ignite my passion to lead and serve the community. In JCI, that passion blazes like fire.
