Philippine flag in minute form

There have been more than a few reminders today to manifest ye old abstract construct of love. Someone also had the brilliant idea of reversing four letters in the word "revolution" making it "reEVOLution" in one of our editorial design e-brainstorming sessions. I also just discovered a soon-to-be launched campaign and documentary on the value of love in work through a series of testimonial videos of people of diverse nationalities.

Love -- and love of country -- was also something brought up by a student I was having a conversation with over lunch. The freshman wondered why a flag ceremony is not regularly held in the organization I work for. Great thinking. I more than acknowledged her suggestion, and even encouraged her to write a formal proposal to management. After all, this sort of institutional, patriotic gesture should not only influence the aspirations of those making up the ranks, but also the mission of any business to contribute to the nation.

But most moving of such reminders perhaps was a classic piece of reading this morning that, in an inexplicably convincing manner, pointed out how many forms of love of country, of nationalism, can actually be alienating and twisted:
You must reject that form of nationalism which hinders understanding and harmony. In many moments of history it has been one of the most evil of barriers.

A simple display of the Philippine flag on my bookshelf a few months ago.
I pocketed this little flag stuck on a pineapple for dessert way back. It just seemed so symbolic in its minute form, maybe alluding to how little concern and appreciation we have for our nation and people. And why do we always have to constrain it in material, economic matters (symbolized by the pineapple) if love for country, or love in itself, is an intellectual, spiritual concept (symbolized by the books above)? #