*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD
“Nature never punishes—it only balances.” — Anonymous
When the earth trembles beneath our feet and the skies seem to groan with sorrow, one cannot help but feel that something far deeper than science is at play. The earthquakes that now shake Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao are not merely shifts in tectonic plates—they are echoes of our own misdeeds, ripples of imbalance born from the greed, hatred, and indifference we have sown in our world.
I do not speak of religion, for faith divides where goodness should unite. I speak instead of the energy that governs all life—a silent law older than mankind itself. Every act we do, whether noble or cruel, releases energy into the universe. When we lie, steal, or destroy, that darkness circles back to us in forms we do not expect: crumbling systems, divided nations, trembling earth. It is not divine anger—it is nature seeking balance.
We cut trees and expect the floods to stay still. We poison rivers and hope that life will still bloom. We corrupt our government and yet pray for miracles. But how can miracles exist when men themselves have stolen what belongs to others—when billions meant for flood control have been buried in the sands of corruption? Each peso stolen from the people becomes a wound in the land. And every wound bleeds—through floods, landslides, and the endless cries of the poor who suffer from the greed of a few.
Sometimes I think the earthquakes are not meant to destroy us but to awaken us. The trembling of the ground is the heartbeat of a dying planet calling out for mercy. It is as if the earth itself is whispering, “Do good before it’s too late.”
We must not wait for prophets or politicians to tell us what is right. The truth is already written in the rhythm of life. When we do good, great things flow back to us. When we do harm, nature answers in kind. It is the simplest yet most profound equation of existence.
So let us begin again. Let us choose kindness not as a ritual, but as a rebellion against the darkness we created. Let us plant trees not for recognition, but for redemption. Let us hold our leaders accountable, not because we hate them, but because we love our country enough to demand its cleansing.
Every quake that shakes our land is a reminder that we still have a chance—a chance to restore balance, to heal what we have broken, and to love what we have ignored. The floods may rise, the ground may tremble, but as long as there are hearts willing to do something beneficial, hope will never drown.
As a single father and an educator, I fear not for myself but for the generation that will inherit this trembling world — our children, who will one day walk on the same ground that shakes beneath us now. What kind of earth will we leave them? What lessons will they learn from our failures? If there is one message I wish to leave behind, it is this: Let them inherit goodness, not guilt. Let them inherit a nation that chose compassion over corruption, and courage over complacency. For if we begin to do good today, perhaps the next time the earth trembles, it will not be out of pain — but out of relief, knowing that mankind has finally learned to care.
