A few years ago, I was asked to give a talk about “mental health” to leaders, laborers, and businessmen from the agriculture industry. It was a strange request, of course, because this was a totally different field, filled with folks who have a different kind of expertise. Also, I was the only speaker tasked to talk about it—everyone else talked about their best business practices. I felt out of place, but I agreed with the organizer’s perspective: they told me that we all need a good balance between work and well-being. So, I agreed to give the talk.
But if I must talk about “mental health,” I should avoid heavy academic jargon and overused buzzwords. This is a topic that should be accessible to anyone, regardless of education or industry. So I decided not to use the phrase “mental health” at all, and instead I asked them what a “good life” would be for them. And, eventually, we reached a common vocabulary: “I find purpose in what I do, my family gets to live a comfortable life, and I help my community thrive.” Simple and true—these are indeed elements of good mental health.
READ: Rising mental health issues among Filipino youth and how families can help
You might be wondering what things like purpose, family, and community have to do with “mental” health. Actually, studies on holistic Filipino well-being—what we call “Kaginhawaan”—show the importance of a stable livelihood and healthy relationships. After all, how can I personally be at peace knowing that my family is starving? How can I breathe easily knowing that I hurt someone with my words, or that someone betrayed my trust? How can I ever feel secure if I do not even know where I am going in life, or if I do not like my current job?
“I find purpose in what I do, my family gets to live a comfortable life, and I help my community thrive.” Simple and true—these are indeed elements of good mental health.
Philippine folk psychology affirms that we need good, healthy environments to be healthy ourselves. When a person is always angry, we say, “Kulang siguro siya sa aruga.” We know, even as a joke, that people who treat others badly were probably also neglected. We also say that a caring and considerate person is “pinalaki ng tama.” Meaning that they had nurturing parental figures and a supportive childhood environment. We are called to be each other’s spiritual gardeners.
Most of the time, conditions like anxiety and depression might just be normal human reactions to actual life problems—usually a severe lack of nourishment, love, opportunity, purpose, and so on. It is true, in a very general sense, when we say, “Lahat ng tao ay may pinagdaraanan.” Yes, life is difficult, especially for those born outside the usual privileges. Yes, we strive for a better life for ourselves and our loved ones. Yes, even the most comfortable life has some suffering.
But we also differ in our ability to handle pain and in our ability to get out of it. Saying “Nag-iinarte ka lang” does nothing to acknowledge or change anything. This is just a way to push things aside, to ignore real problems. Is there really a “normal” way to handle suffering?
So, maybe, we can be more caring for our Kapwa, knowing that we are all suffering in our own ways. This is much better than competing on who is suffering more. When a loved one opens up and shares with us their struggles, what good does it do to tell them that we are struggling more? What good does it do to tell a tired person that we are more tired than they are? What good does it do to tell someone who had just been broken up with that we have had an even more intense break-up? What good does it do to tell someone that we are sadder, or more anxious, or more fearful about our lives?
When a person is always angry, we say, “Kulang siguro siya sa aruga.” We know, even as a joke, that people who treat others badly were probably also neglected. We also say that a caring and considerate person is “pinalaki ng tama.”
It is also true that, sometimes, the personal struggles of others might sound a bit silly or small, especially compared to what we have been through in our own lives. We are all walking on the same planet, and just because some of us have seen more years pass, it is unfair to compare our present state to someone else’s—such as, for example, a child’s grief over a lost toy, or a teenager’s anxiety about fitting in their friend group. They are experiencing these things for the first time. If we have gone through the same things many years ago, we should be able to say, “Yes, I know that it is difficult. I have gone through the same thing.” Instead of mocking them for their pain, maybe we can offer what has worked for us. If we truly love them, why would we ever want to make them feel like they cannot trust or rely on us?
The best solution to the “mental health” crisis we face as a society is not only to toughen up as individuals or to brush off these very real issues as “ganiyan talaga.” But rather to actually try and make life worth living. That means, on a societal level, making the minimum daily wage survivable, providing access to quality education, cleaning up public spaces, and ensuring that all citizens have something to eat and somewhere to sleep without having to sell their own dignity.
It also means, on a personal level, being present for the people we love, sharing what has worked for us so that they can solve their problems, and being on their side when they are finally ready to face their issues. If we love our Kapwa, we must get involved in their life (makisangkot), empathize with their struggles (makiisa), and work together towards a more livable world (makibaka).
