Domesticity

There's something peacefully wonderful about getting the chores done...

... Making sure that the kitchen bulbs are replaced...

... Having the faulty kitchen "faucet head" replaced with a shiny, sparkling one...

... Doing the groceries and picking up some lamb chops (because you know he loves lamb chops!)...

... Preparing a really yummy dinner...

... Doing a "surprise chore" which someone will absolutely appreciate...

I guess the bottomline is this: it's great to get chores done when you know someone will be there to appreciate it all.

Quarterly Life Review (part 2 of 2): Our Ideals Can Feed Us, After All

One of the most frequently-heard lines by young idealists such as myself is that “Your ideals can’t feed you.” We are taught that ideals are great when you are young and in school, but not when you are paying for bills, paying your taxes, and trying to climb up the corporate ladder or raise a family. No, at that stage in your life you don’t need ideals—you need money. Somehow, our society has taught us that if we are idealistic, then will be cursed with poverty.

If that were the case, then the idealistic, freelance “artist” that I am should be starving and homeless (and totally emaciated) by now.

However, as the Universe would have it, this quarter has been my busiest and my most liquid period in quite a while. (Certainly compared to the same period last year!) I have been contracted for projects that are not only profitable but also very much in line with my interests; I have been able to devote enough time, money, and energy to my socio-civic involvements (and work from cafés as often as I need to); and I’ve been able to afford my little luxuries as well. Oh, and there were the home and car repairs that Paul and I had to take care of as well. And the big party we had last month.

So far, the checks have been coming in steady streams for me, and the bookings have been coming in non-stop for Paul. (There are days when he has back-to-back-TO-BACK events—and, as of this writing, he has four out-of-town performances over the next four weeks!) All these when our ideals have been at their most intense, when our “for-the-love” involvements have been at an all-time high. All these when we should have been impoverished for banking on our ideals.

* * *

Now I totally, fully understand what it means to “Do what you love and the money will follow.” For both Paul and I, what we’re doing now is what we’d we doing anyway even if nobody paid us. I will continue to write, connect people, share ideas, and organize groups. He will continue to create music, experiment on new forms of expression, and raise the bar of his artmaking. Both of us will continue to stay tuned to the news, engage in political discussions, and take a stand when and where it is relevant and necessary.

Fortunately for us, other people seem to be seeing the value that our passion and our ideals bring into our work. Somehow, they see that this “value added” is worth paying for; it’s as if WE ourselves are becoming premium brand names. And, to a very large extent, that IS true—each of us is our own brand. It’s just a question of what our respective brands stand for and how others perceive and “valuate” our personal brands.

* * *

This reminds me of a new venture I’m working on with a friend based in London. She is an environmental scientist with an expertise in sustainable development, and our venture involves teaching corporations how to adapt to global standards in CSR (corporate social responsibility) practice and reporting. In the past few years, CSR has become all the rage in corporate boardrooms, and it’s easy to see why: people need to see what values, principles, and ideals you stand for before they feel comfortable enough to do business with you.

Working on this project has made me realize that, if I were a company, I’d probably have “CSR” written all over me. My freelance writing practice really stemmed from articles and blog entries that I used to write for free anyway. My organizational skills have been honed by years of involvement with volunteer groups. My political involvements began during my student council days in college, and they never really left. Everything that I’m doing now is anchored on something that I had begun doing just because I wanted to. And, somehow, they have all led to fruitful professional undertakings.

Even when I didn’t have money in mind, (above-board, untainted) money seemed to find me. I think it’s a pretty good way to live.


So the next time anyone comes up to me for career advice, I’d tell them: “Go ahead and do what you do best—what you’d do anyway even without getting paid. You’d be surprised how much people would be willing to pay you for that.”

And if you are one of those people who somehow believed enough in me to pay for what I’d do for free anyway, I thank the Universe for you.

A Quarterly “Life Review” (Part 1 of 2)

The very first time I can remember conducting a “strategic life review” was seven years ago, around March or April 2001. It was the Holy Week then, and I was by myself at what was then Powerbooks Arnaiz, hiding behind some shelves in the Religion section. I was hunched over The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho) and The Artist’s Way (Julia Cameron)—hurriedly taking notes on a black, lined paper using metallic-colored gel pens, hoping I wouldn’t get caught. It was my first encounter with those life-changing books, and the first time I can remember REALLY taking a good look at my life as it was.

At 21 then, it was probably the first time in my young adult life that I had felt very confused and very much “out of sync.” Neither my job nor my relationship then provided any fulfillment, and I was still hanging on to some old strings that should no longer have been relevant. I was not happy with my life—I was not happy with my self—and all around me were questions, questions, questions.

In spite of the angst that that period brought about, the exercise of reading good books, jotting down notes, and letting the questions flow proved to be monumental for me—as it led me on a journey toward self-awareness, self-discovery, passion, authenticity, and—now—some semblance of serenity.

So I am not surprised that today, seven years later—also during the Holy Week—I find myself needing to go partly back and take another look at my life. Let’s call it a “quarterly life review,” as much of what I am enjoying now is a direct result of actions, decisions, and circumstances that arose only in January.

* * *

When the year began, I was only beginning to recover from a traumatic Christmas. A series of misunderstandings, assumptions, and “implosions” nearly tore me and my beloved apart, and it took a very conscious series of decisions for us to get our relationship back on track. We vowed that 2008 was going to be “our year”—individually and as a couple—and that it was going to be the period for redefining our lives. I also made some very crucial career decisions in January, and those allowed me to look at myself and my work with renewed pride and confidence. I told myself that nobody was going to make me feel bad or inadequate—especially when it came to my work—ever again.

February was a crazy month, and if I were to create a timeline of this month alone it would seem like I packed several months’ worth of activity in time to celebrate the leap year. February 2 saw Paul and I having our first-ever major birthday bash—it was filled with music from start to finish, and attended by over a hundred of our dearest friends. (Rehearsal for wedding reception preparations? Maybe.) By the 5^th politics had started overtaking our lives—this was the night of the leadership change in the Lower House (which we watched on live TV ‘till way past midnight)—and by the 8^th we literally saw history unfold as we caught the live, breaking-news coverage of the Lozada exposé. It was also the night when I wrote the “Concerned Citizen’s 10-point Reform Agenda”, a letter that catapulted me into the world of real-world politics. On February 16 I joined a discussion among young Filipinos, which soon morphed into what is now Team RP, and by the 25^th Team RP was holding its first major event ever—a Concert for Truth, Accountability, and Reform that gained massive media coverage. (Friends actually messaged to say that they saw me on TV!) It was also the day when Heaven gave me another angel-guide when my dear friend, Jay Tan, passed away and reminded me of how short life is, indeed.

March has been an equally fast-paced month. We’re not even at the end yet, and—quite wonderfully—I’m already up to my eyebrows in projects that I really enjoy (with people that I respect and enjoy working with), and I once again find myself in a leadership position that reaffirms and reinvigorates my love for the political scene. I really don’t know why, but... throw me in a fashion show and I’ll still feel awkward; throw me in a political gathering and I’ll feel very much at home and in my element. So for the first time in a very long time, I feel that I am EXACTLY where I am supposed to be. Here, I am not a mere observer, I am not just a chronicler; I am an active participant and a key player, and my opinions matter. (And the fact that I still get to enjoy the arts, culture, and lifestyle scenes is a heady bonus for me!)

* * *

A few weeks ago, I declared on Facebook that I was “working towards equilibrium.” Now, I feel that I am steadily getting there. Of all the realizations to which this quarter has led me, perhaps the most important is that I need a balance of business, art, and politics in my life. I am not just a writer; I am a creative social entrepreneur. I am not just a lifestyle journalist; I am an arts-and-culture lover. I am not just a former student leader; I am a young Filipino political player (not a “politician”—there’s a big difference). Take any of these elements away and I will feel very wobbly and very much misaligned. But give me the space to do and be all of these things and I will bloom like a seed planted in the ideal environment.

My friend Carissa Villacorta gave me a wonderful book for Christmas/my birthday. Entitled Live What You Love: Notes from an Unusual Life, it was written by Bob and Melinda Blanchard, a couple who defined their family life not based on the usual conventions but on what they felt was important to them. It reminded me very much of the life that Paul and I had begun building together. Here is an excerpt from the Introduction:

“What happens if life falls outside the expected lines and inside others that are self-defined? Our experiences tell us that living this way is as wonderful as it is odd. We happen to believe that life really is about choices, and we love what happens when interesting ones get paired together...

“Truly living this way has taken courage, faith, and more than an occasional dose of old-fashioned stubbornness. We tend not to give up. We try not to go with the usual choices. Even so, it has not always been easy to ‘stay true’ to our dreams and passions...

“After reflecting on all these moments, we realized that we had never said ‘no’ to one of our dreams. Together, we had always examined where we were in life and what we needed to continue on the path that was right for us. We balanced our dreams with practicalities, but never gave up on them. We were not afraid to risk it all and make huge mistakes and start over again. We surrounded ourselves with people we love in places that nurture our souls. We held hands and jumped into the water together. We made our dream come true by living what we love every single day.”

Team RP Petition for a Freedom of Access to Information Law

Link

Some of you who will get this may already know what we at Team RP have been doing. Some of you may be reading a politically charged message from me for the first time. I'm wearing my beliefs on my sleeve, and very proud to do so.

Many of you may be thinking, "Okay, Team RP. You say you're working for 'truth, accountability, and reform'. What now? What concrete steps can you REALLY take?" Here's one: to push for a law that gives us THE RIGHT TO INFORMATION. This right is enshrined in the Constitution, but because there are no enabling laws, there is no teeth--and many excuses not to comply.

By signing this petition, you will be helping us achieve our goal of AT LEAST 10,000 SIGNATURES that we will bring to legislators as a "pressure point." Your signature, together with many others, can signal to media that THIS IS AN ISSUE WORTH TALKING ABOUT. When media hounds our government officials for their take on this issue, THEN THE BALL CAN START ROLLING. People can start taking stands, a comprehensive bill can be drafted. ALL WITH THE HELP OF YOUR SIGNATURE.

Thank you in advance for your support. Please pass this on to friends so that they, too, will know how their ONE SIGNATURE can help change the course of things in this country.

--
Niña Terol
Vice Chairperson for Internal Affairs
TEAM RP

Finishing Last (an old post by Jay Tan on A Spoonful of Sugar)

This was a post that Jay wrote in my blog shortly after his 28th birthday.

Jay, in my eyes--in the eyes of all your friends who knew and loved you--you will always be first. I love you, bro, and I'll miss you as sure as heaven.

--

A Spoonful of Sugar 2003, v.11
Finishing Last
By John Julian Tan III (contributing writer)
(Written: 15 September 2003)

This piece was written by one of my best friends, John Julian "Jay" Tan III, who, until recently, thought that he'd been living 28 years without having a single girlfriend. It turns out that he DID have a relationship at one time or another--only he didn't know that they were having a relationship at the time that it happened! (Now, isn't THAT interesting?!)

But, enough of that little side tidbit. What we have here is something that Jay wrote four years ago, and it talks about life and love... from the good guy's point of view.

* * * * *

Once upon a time, I believed that fairy tales did come true and that I would find a princess to call my very own someday and live happily ever after with. Unfortunately, life has played out more like a contrived horror novel and I am left cursing the Brothers Grimm for hammering such a crazy notion in my naive head. Lessons I’ve learned: Fairy tales don’t come true and princesses would rather go out with brutes and gnomes before having anything to do with a Prince Charming. In the game of dating and in the dance of courtship, these “nice guys" have a special reserved spot down at the bottom of the food chain, feeling more like Dopey rather than royalty.

Why do nice guys finish last? In retrospect, the nineties was the decade when chivalry officially died, but I didn’t think it would also spell the end to the Prince Charmings of the world. It is a jaded observation but girls prefer boorishness to sensitivity and passion over stability. One can never fully understand the rationale behind the female mind, but it just defies all logic, driving unsuspecting victims to look for long-term relationships with guys who are really just looking for flings. They are like moths drawn to a flame, ever-willing to be burned in the name of love.

This leaves the nice guy wallowing in misery and watching helplessly as one girl after another leaps into the arms of those guys who seem to have an edge about them. Whatever happened to finding a guy you could bring home to your mother? Unless I miss my guess, this may be one of the reasons why they never seem to get ahead. When the forerunners of women’s liberation first began their movement years ago, I’m sure they never expected their vision to evolve into what it is right now. We live in a world where opening doors and pulling out chairs for ladies won’t win you points with anyone. We live in a world where being courteous, well-mannered and sympathetic have become “flawed" traits rather than things you would look for in a guy. We live in a world where the females actually hold all the cards.

Things have indeed gone topsy-turvy and it is a misconception to think of it as a man’s world nowadays. Girls have assumed the roles that men for many generations were accustomed to. They are now the ones who conk guys on the head and drag them back to their caves; they are now the hunters and the conquerors. It is safe to think of the nice guys as timid, stationary targets while the bad boys can be likened to wild game, a chase that females can really sink their teeth into. Girls are in the game simply because they want to be known as the ones who tamed the savage beast.

In defense of females everywhere, the nice guy syndrome may not really be their fault. Nice guys, with all their sensitivity and kindness, almost always see their potential romantic situations “graduate" into deep, meaningful friendships. This is an inescapable plateau that, in reality, spells the doom and should dash any hopes of the nice guy carrying this friendship to another level. To girls, the nice guys suddenly get tagged as “comfortable"(like an old pair of socks) and their friendship becomes too “valuable"to risk it in the name of a relationship. They become spectators and sounding boards to the females who are busy with their hunt.

A lot of the nice guys accept this lot in life but some try their damnedest to shake off this clean-cut image. They eventually find out though, that their efforts are to no avail because try as they might, their inherent goodness just keeps cracking the veneer and seeping through.

I should know.

I’ve tried everything from antipathy to cigarettes but despite the smoke and mud that I’ve tried to cake myself in, I realize that I wouldn’t be happy if I found someone who would love me if I wasn’t me. That leaves me where I started, at the bottom of the food chain, waiting for some love to come my way.

Life in Perspective (part 2 of 2)

For almost a month now, the “regular programming” of my life has been interrupted, quite literally, by a series of breaking news stories. First was the de Venecia ouster at the Lower House, which I had woken up to while it was being aired live on ANC (also because of Paul’s rousing). I don’t know why I cared about it so much, but I sat up although it was already past midnight and sat through the ENTIRE voting process. I took note of what the representatives were saying and how they were saying it, and part of me wished that I could send them better speeches through WiFi. Next was the live press conference of ZTE whistleblower Jun Lozada, and again I sat through the entire presscon, enraged at what I was hearing and feeling utterly frustrated that I couldn’t do anything to fix the system.

And then I hit upon a “brilliant” idea: Why not write my thoughts and suggestions down and send them to newspaper editors, congressmen, senators, media, and so on? I was so impassioned by the issues and so insistent on making my voice heard that, three days of watching round-the-clock coverages later, I drafted my “10-point reform agenda” and sent them to all those whom I thought would be interested in my ideas.

I’m not sure if the newspapers ever picked up my email and published it as a Letter to the Editor, but so many others responded and asked to meet with me. There was a lawyer working here and in the US who had been working on judicial reforms for some time now, a political party based on “moral leadership” that had fielded a handful of senatorial candidates in the 2007 elections, an organization based in my alma mater’s rival school, and even some Filipinos from different parts of the world. It was heartening and encouraging, and part of me felt that “this is what I’m supposed to do.”

And it has since turned my life completely upside down. In a mere three weeks, I had spoken at a press conference, helped organize a widely covered noise barrage and concert that showed my face on TV, participated in yet another rally (the fourth or fifth since my political life began 12 years ago), and been elected one of the vice chairpersons of a newly formed political group. Between actual (paid) work and volunteer activities, it’s my socio-civic involvements that have occupied most of my time as of late. Even I am questioning if this is the right thing to do (because, after all, I have bills to pay and cannot afford to spend more than 50 percent of my time on pro bono work), but my heart and my gut tell me that it is.

On my way home this afternoon from Jay’s memorial service, one of good friends posed me the same question: “Aren’t you doing too much, Nines? You could afford to turn your back on these things, you know.”

Yes, I know. But I’m not sure if I want to.

To be very honest, I still don’t know where all this is leading to. But I also know that it is bringing me so much more fulfillment than money alone can. If some people get a high out of shopping or playing video games or taking *stuff*, then I get a high out of participating in political processes. (I’ve even forgone watching my favorite TV shows in favor of 24-hour news.) Don’t ask me why because I don’t understand it myself.

The entire process has also brought me much closer to my beloved. Ever since we met in the student council 12 years ago, Paul and I have always seen in each other a kindred soul when it came to the things that we believed in. Now, over four years after getting together and just a few months shy of being husband and wife, we are finding in each other a much-needed source of support, encouragement, and clarity. Things just seem to be falling neatly into place for both of us these days. And the constant news-watching and political discoursing actually helps. (Some people go on dinner dates; we watch the news and share our respective commentaries.)

What does all this mean for me on a practical level? While I admit to being momentarily distracted by current events to be able to meet all my deadlines, I also know that all this clarity is making me a better person—and, I hope, a better writer. My exposure to business, to arts and culture, to politics, to civic life is allowing me to better see each one’s place and role in society. It’s giving me a clearer perspective on why my work is important and what else I can do to be more effective. It’s allowing me to see how important beauty is in our society—because, while certain values and ideals truly cannot be measured, these are important in enabling a more humane and dignified society.

At the intersection of Jay’s passing and all these political involvements, I realized that, at the very core, I am somebody who cannot compartmentalize the different aspects of my life—nor can I just “shut off” certain things (such as politics or my family). My beliefs and my value system are reflected in my work, just as my different engagements reflect the different values and principles that I hold dear. Take away Ateneo, take away politics, take away volunteer work, take away art… and you would have taken away “vital organs” that enable me to function. I simply cannot do without them.

If there is one thing that Jay’s life has taught me, it is that you can be anyone you want to be—whenever you want to do it. Aside from being a very talented copywriter, Jay was a radio DJ, a voice talent, a songwriter, a host, one of the founders of an organization that helped educate children, and a WONDERFUL friend, brother, and son. He never let anything stop him from doing that which mattered to him, and so he lived a very, very full and rich life in spite of his youth. Although he passed away at 32, the legacy he has left behind surpasses even those of some of our elders here. Jay showed all of us that life can be great—every single day—and that you don’t have to wait to make your dreams come true.

Jay once wrote in my blog (A Spoonful of Sugar) that “nice guys finish last.” This time, I know that he finished first, and that he’s taking the gold all the way to heaven. I only hope to be able to touch as many lives as he had.

Life in Perspective (part 1 of 2)

1 March 2008

Today my college friends and I laid a very, very dear friend of ours to rest. John Julian “Jay” Tan III, one of my best friends (and the would-have-been host of my wedding and the ninong of my future first-born), died due to complications arising from his kidney transplant and the medications that he had to take after it. Although the apparent cause of death was cardiac arrest, Jay had already battled heart and kidney diseases months—even years—before his passing. He was only 32.

I received the text about Jay’s passing on the afternoon of February 25, while I was at the Ateneo grounds preparing for a big concert “for truth, accountability, and reform.” I will never forget that scene: I was doing a last-minute text blast to friends, encouraging them to join the concert, when the text about Jay came—and from someone outside my college group. I immediately knew that it was true (because nobody would dare joke about Jay), but I just stood there for a few minutes—in shock and trying to collect my wits, until a volunteer rushed to me, asking a question while tears streamed down my face. There I was, doing something that was supposed to “make a difference” in the country, and yet one of my favorite people had died without having felt my presence while he was sick. I’m not sure I made much of a difference in Jay’s life in the weeks before we passed away.

It was a big slap on the face for me—as if the Universe were saying, “For all your ‘noble’ aspirations, you couldn’t be there for your friend. And now he’s gone. What good does ‘saving the world’ do when you couldn’t save your friend?”

The last phone conversation we had was about a DVD I excitedly bought for him at a sale in Greenbelt. Jay had a HUGE DVD collection at home, and I had borrowed two Spanish titles years ago and then lost them when we transferred homes. I knew that Jay was deeply disappointed, but he never showed it. I promised to get him a new copy and only got to do so—and an original one at that!—three years later. So I excitedly called him up and told him that I bought him an original DVD, and I promised to visit him “soon” to do marathon DVD-watching.

His reply was, “When will that be? You always promise to visit, but you haven’t yet.”

That was another slap in the face. Among my many circles of friends, I’m probably known as a flaker because I usually confirm my attendance at gatherings early—only to back out at the last minute because of events that I have to attend or cover, because of deadlines that I need to meet, or because of immobility. The bottomline is: work has become a very convenient excuse to miss social gatherings, and now I’m realizing how important those coffees and dinners really are. They might be the last you’ll ever have with someone.

So I’m saddened not because Jay is gone (because he is fully alive in my heart and in my soul), but because I was not able to show him how much I loved and cared for him when he needed his friends the most. While I was busy going about my work and enjoying the lifestyle that it enabled me to have, my “brother” was immobilized by his medical condition and had to give up a lot of the things that he enjoyed. And I couldn’t even cheer him up.

Events like this make you wonder what your life is really all about. They challenge the value you place upon your family, friends, and emotional support structure. They force you to rethink your priorities and figure out where things really fall within the entire scheme of things. They make you look at the things that you value most and ask you, “Does it really make a difference?”

One Saturday would have meant so much to Jay, and I couldn’t even give him that. And now he’s gone. And there will be countless Saturdays without him.