Tag Archives: adulting

Waiting

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Cat waiting for her two-legged sister to come back. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Last night I had been chatting with an ex-colleague for hours while we were holding a vigil for another ex-colleague who was about to expire.

Basically we waiting for the expected and praying for his eternal peace. He got severe Covid and while in the hospital, it was discovered he had terminal liver cancer. After he was off the tubes, he was allowed to go home for palliative care. Then we were told by his family that we can send him voice messages. I wrote about this a few days ago.

So last night this ex-colleague, A, and I were talking about him. We also talked about how we got so tired fighting for what we believed in, for what is right, which our sick friend and colleague, N, did all his life. He died last night while we were talking about him.

We all cared so much for an industry that did not love us back, that we were so passionate about our profession but we got burned so many times. There was so much corruption and abuse.

So it’s about time that we should start to live our lives, she said. Start preparing for retirement. She told me I was one of the few very good and clean journalists whom she wanted to stand out and do more great things but the system is so rotten that she understands why I turned my back on it. I told her I went to the extreme end; at least my niche is unapologetic about serving the corporate big machine and no pretense that this kind of journalism is the crusading kind. That it is upfront about being all about making money for our audience. That’s why I can be emotionally detached from it. Just bring my skills and produce good stories and that’s it. It was no longer about saving the world.

Every now and then I still do take up the cudgels, when the messiah syndrome comes knocking. One day I can go back to it. In another form. In some way or another.

A and I were talking about retiring into our small homes, growing our own food, living sustainably away from the city. She will go home to Mindanao while I am still figuring out where I want to go. My girls and I could end up in my hometown, or near the sea, or in Hyogo Prefecture, or outside Utrecht, or somewhere.

I’m no longer trying to reach the highest level in the ladder nor chasing accolades and titles…But I haven’t really been chasing them in the first place. I only felt pressured to do so when J came into my life because it was what he was chasing after. It was the time I questioned myself, what was I doing with my life? Why am I just stuck as a journalist when I can be doing something in the finance world?

Then when he dumped me, I began to question again what was really my core? What is my essence? What do I want to do for the rest of my life?

Peace. I want peace and contentment. I want to live a life, my life, and not chase somebody else’s dream for them.

So I am working towards that goal now. I don’t know how but I know I will get there.

Every now and then it does occur to me that I can pivot and do what my other ex-colleagues are doing now. My ex-boss in HK (also came from here, we were in the same circle when she was still here in the country) is now a managing director in an advisory firm, which I can do as well if I devote more years into this company to reach some milestones to fatten up my resume. Another friend who also came from a hardcore journalism background is now doing partnership deals for a fintech company. Which I think I can also do.

Now the question is, do I want to do it? Let’s see what the wind may bring. All I know is I want peace and to live my life. To have time to stop and smell the roses.

And write.

I am waiting.

When things are meant for me, they just fall on my lap. Let’s see what happens.

What are you trying to prove?

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I asked myself this question when I was analyzing the situation with my ex-partner, J. What we were was really a combination of so many layers, of so many things. One thing about us is that I felt like I was not part of his plans. I never figured in it.

One time we were watching this Indian movie about the ‘Pad Man’, the true to life story of a guy who invented low-cost menstrual pads for Indian women. He was ostracized by everybody (because, India) as menstruation is taboo and a man tackling that is double taboo. Anyway, J asked me if I would support him if he was Pad Man. I said, I would, all the way. Even if it sounds crazy, even if it is daunting, I will give all I got to support him

Which I did. I never discouraged him from anything that he was thinking he wanted to do. I helped him do the leg work. For everything. The co-working space idea, the medical cassette whatever that is, and the last one was investment banking and consultancy. I pulled all the stops and did whatever and supported him to be where he is now.

But then, I couldn’t see myself in this future he was building. He didn’t include me. I asked him the last time we talked face to face, where are you headed? I don’t know where you are, I can’t see you, I no longer know what’s inside your head.

Maybe he doesn’t know what he wants. But he knows what he doesn’t want. Me.

I may be wrong but part of his restlessness is brought about by this need to prove something to other people. I don’t know. I just feel that he has to put on a face to his family, especially when he hid himself on LinkedIn from his cousin after he quit the large firm almost 3 years ago. I asked why. He said I don’t want them to know I don’t have a job/not successful/whatever. Aside from that I always felt that he was on a race to something, that by xx time he should already yy.

Meanwhile, I am probably on a different plane. I don’t have anything to prove to anybody. I’m not on a race. I have a classmate who is a literal rocket scientist helping to launch satellites into space. Half of my classmates have PhDs or whatever. My siblings are PhDs and experts in their fields, and so are my parents. However, I don’t feel any urgency to follow their paths. I may aim to be the head for Asia Pacific for my company and I can achieve that if I put my mind to it but it’s not something I would be killing myself over for. It would look nice on my CV but if it happens, it happens but it’s not really the goal.

I don’t have that much chip on my shoulder professionally. I am my profession, which is also a vocation. I’m in that unique space where my job is my passion. Which is in some way limiting as well because I couldn’t leave it without being torn apart. At some point I would have to leave because I have two dependents and their father is not contributing financially to their upbringing. Staying as a journalist is not financially rewarding but it feeds my soul.

So do I have anything to prove to anybody now that I’m in my 40s? Do I feel some pressure that I should be this xxx by age yyyy? I don’t know, not really. It’s hard to set lofty career goals when you’re also the primary caretaker of your children. Their needs come first. Women, especially solo parents, most of the time dial back because they have to take into consideration how career advancement would affect the children. I honestly haven’t been on top of my children’s school work because my own team at work is struggling and I manage them remotely while I need to hit my personal goals at work at the same time. For the life of me, I don’t know how I would be able to manage them if I don’t have my helpers to do the household chores. I don’t have the mental space for anything else. So when the grief button is pushed at random times, my weak walls crumble, become inanimate for a day or two and I have to work my way back up again.

What do I want to prove? I don’t know. I just want to live peacefully and meaningfully. I no longer think about what others would think. I don’t have anything to prove to my mother and she accepts me for what I am and what I have achieved so far. I don’t need my siblings’ acceptance and approval. As long as we stay away from each other’s business, we’re cool. My children love me. I no longer think I need a partner to make me feel loved and important. I’m still working on this mantra but just thinking about the work it entails to have another person in my life is exhausting. Besides it would surely lead to heartbreak that I don’t have the capacity to carry anymore.

Everytime I step out, I am playing hide and seek with death (reports of lung opacity and intubation of 19 year old COVID-19 patients with no comorbidities mean everyone is fair game), reminding me of my mortality. It makes me realize I’m on borrowed time. On our deathbeds, we don’t say I wish I became the global head for this and that before I go… My dad, a few days before he died, told his friend that he can already go as he already made peace with his children and he had settled all the things he had to settle. He was already satisfied.

So what do I want to prove? Nothing. I just want my children to be good human beings. Nothing else.

Anxiety and control

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Tea to calm me down before tackling work. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

If there’s something that I’ve learned in the past 20 years is that there are things that I can control and I should let go of the things I can’t. And I shouldn’t sweat the small stuff.

I may be past the prime age for child-bearing but at least I have with me maturity that some 20-year-old girl can only acquire through time and experience. Maturity is not just taking on work responsibilities seriously, because, (WTF!) that is part of being an adult.

(*As a side note, J kept on singing about how glorious was his biatch of an employee, D, for being “so mature because she is taking work seriously” and he was full of praises for her while I who had done everything for him–from small stuff like folding his clothes to the big stuff like financially supporting him when he was still struggling, received nothing but disdain and he treated me like I’m nothing more than a cleaning lady and chauffer, and blamed me for every little thing. I remember it vividly, as I wrote in my journal sometime July or August last year*).

Part of the maturing process is the increase in internal locus of control and minimizing the external. Part of it is the mastery of the Prayer for Serenity. Part of it is the ability to take the focus off myself to shift to the bigger picture.

Anyway, what I’m driving at is, the 21-year-old me would have freaked out at what’s happening around me. I would be so focused on it that it would either make me catatonic or send me into hysterics–both of which would jeopardize all the things I have worked hard for.

Posted by a doctor high school mate of mine.
Another post by the same high school mate.

Since I’ve been through hell and have scars to show for it, I now have learned to calm down and focus on the things I can control so that the road back to hell–if I have the misfortune to be back on that road–would be less bumpy and violent.

  • I cannot change the incompetent government now but I have to register for the 2022 election so that my vote will count. Harboring anger without action is unhealthy and counter-productive. Relying on impossible what-ifs right now i.e. rallies or people power in the time of 8k daily cases is also not productive
  • Use social media to create awareness and knowledge of the situation. As a journalist, I know I have a platform. What I can do is to call the attention of all people to the wrongdoing, whatever that may be, so that this can be reversed. This is something I can do to change what it seems like a situation that is beyond what I can humanly control.
  • I can control the movement of my family and by hunkering down in place to minimize chances of catching Covid, I will not contribute to the worsening situation in hospitals.
  • I will donate to those who need help to alleviate their suffering as the government doesn’t want to give financial aid to the most vulnerable. Just like I did regularly a year ago when the lockdowns hit us hard.
  • I haven’t done this in a while but I must pray. This is something for God to handle.

The government’s handling of this pandemic is a mess and the greed and incompetence of Duque and the rest of the Duterte administration is killing us all. The situation in the hospitals is indeed heartbreaking and scary. So in order for me not to lose track of what is important and get gobbled up by anger, I need to focus on the things I can control and let go of the things I can’t. Do this refocusing and purging daily.

Thank God for cats. They make me laugh.

Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Letting it out

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Sunset over Laguna de Bay. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

The urge to get out was so strong that I endured one hour of driving just to see this sunset (and a little bit of bicycling) in Eastridge yesterday. During last year’s Lunar new year holiday, we went to have lunch at Balaw-balaw in Angono, went to see the Petroglyphs, Morong Church, and then the Tanay Lighthouse until the sun had set.

I promised myself that I will show the girls this place and will watch the sunset with them here. Which we did yesterday.

The last time I was here trying to appreciate the sunset, he didn’t pay attention to it, to me, or to our surroundings. It was as if he didn’t want to be there with me and just wanted to ride his bike and be done with it. He didn’t talk to me. He only did talk to me when he wanted to buy the orchid being sold along the main road in Eastridge.

I want to bury those memories. I am supplanting it with better ones that didn’t stab me like a thousand knives.

I’m letting this all out so I don’t suffer in silence. I wanted to tell the world about this but of course I can’t. Where is the dignity in that? Unlike some of my friends in social media, I don’t air my dirty linen in public. But I’m looking for ways how to air this out because keeping it all in is killing me.

That sunset was so beautiful and yet fleeting. It only lasted about 10 to 15 mins then we were enveloped by darkness. It was like that episode in my life.

The best revenge is to live my life to the fullest. To be better than I was when I was with him. To be a kickass journalist. To be a better photographer. To be a better homemaker and parent. To be a better human being.

The clock doesn’t move backwards, so I shouldn’t.

Never struggle to chase love, affection, or attention. If it isn’t given freely by another person, it isn’t worth having.

Unknown

Free

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Binangonan, Rizal. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Let me tell you a story.

There’s a man who is constantly searching. Searching for what, we don’t know yet. I think he doesn’t still know it yet. He is always wandering, never staying in one place for too long. Even if he stays in one city for a couple of years, he gets easily antsy and finds that he needs to move houses after a year or so. He is a restless soul.

At some point he thought what he was searching for is a home. He asked her for a home and she gladly gave him that. For a time it seems like he was home.

However, his spirit could never be still in one place. She knew that from the very beginning it was his nature but she thought that the ticking of the clock, the natural propensity of the body to get weary could finally anchor him down. It was her worst fear. But the time has come: his spirit longed to fly again. He felt caged. She refused to believe it was happening again and it was already too late when she realized that some people are created to be lone wolves. He may be an ambivert on the surface but deep inside she knows that he will thrive more being alone. It was already too late when she learned that there are different kinds of partnerships; it doesn’t mean that they have to be together. A partnership is an understanding of each other’s spirit, supporting each other without having to cage one another.

She had to let go and let him sail into the horizon against the setting sun. Sunsets mark the end of a chapter; but it is also a promise of a new one that both of them could write separately as their spirits dictate. She is just asking the Boatman to take care of the lone wolf in this journey. She whispered to the winds and waves and asked them to be gentle and to carry the wolf and the vessel safely to wherever the Boatman will direct them.

Then she scattered light on the boat as a farewell, to serve as a beacon in the night until daybreak when he finally writes a new chapter.

Maybe someday he can look back and remember he used to have a home somewhere on that hill, in that island in the middle of nowhere. Maybe when he comes to visit, that house in the middle of nowhere could be locked as nobody is home for she has embarked on an adventure of her own like slaying dragons and casting spells over kingdoms.

Or maybe it may still have smoke billowing from the chimney and a warm glow of candlelight that can be seen through the window from the outside, welcoming him back.

Maybe.

https://youtu.be/9PKeb0BPghQ

Where to?

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Bridge going to Pili Drive, UP Los Baños. Photo by callmercreation.com

Where I am headed? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.

I’m a goal-oriented person, that’s why I am where I am today. However, life fucks up, right? So I’ve learned in the past 20 years that it’s nice to have goals but it’s not the end all and be all of life. The goals set you on a course and help you weed out what works and what doesn’t. It lets you have boundaries. Like I only took jobs that would lead me to a journalism career. After journalism, who knows? It’s ok not to know. But at least now I know I may not go into investment banking (I was invited once or twice) because seeking mandates is tough. Chasing mandates is not as enjoyable as chasing stories. The money sucks in journalism but so far it is allowing me to support five people (my two nannies, me, and my girls). Let’s see how I would be able to increase income without having to jump into investment banking. I may go into business, but I don’t know if I still have the energy to run a business like we did before. Consultancy probably is the way to go…damn it. I don’t have a PhD. And I certainly will not pursue a PhD at this stage because scholarships abroad have an age limit of 36 or 37 years old. But I have earned my stripes and may need to earn more before or during a consultancy gig. Not really sure how this will work out but that’s the beauty of it. It may just fall on my lap one of these days and it will sort itself out.

That journey may not necessarily mean it’s only here in the Philippines. My girls and I may end up somewhere else. Who knows? But that’s the beauty of it. It’s the openness to possibilities that makes life beautiful.

It’s ok not to know what’s at the end of the bridge. For me it’s the journey over the bridge that’s most important. Make every little thing count. Enjoy the beauty in the simplest things: Preparing meals for my family. Watching sunsets. Watching the sunlight being filtered by my bedroom curtain while I am tucked between the sheets. Hearing my children’s squeals of laughter. Being by the sea and under the sea. Going up hills and mountains. Walking among flowers in Hitachi. Going to onsens. Taking hours-long train rides to somewhere. Discovering the best teppanyaki in the middle of nowhere in rural Japan. Walking around UP Diliman campus. Petting my cats. Sipping coffee in a coffee shop while I write or watch people. Writing.

Is it the pursuit of happiness? Umm, probably not. Happiness may be incidental, something that happens. You cannot be constantly happy because life fucks up. And chasing happiness is…fucked up as well. Maybe the best thing I can think of right now is the pursuit of contentment. Being content is not equal to being mediocre. Contentment may be reaching a high bar that you have set for yourself. But never being content may be equal to unhappiness and may launch you into this endless pursuit of nothingness.

So where do I go from here? I don’t know. And it’s ok.