Week 5: Who am I

Stonehenge, Salisbury, United Kingdom (2014)

I'm deviating from the topics of this writing challenge.  As a mid-life exercise, it is just fitting that I re-visit this age-old question:  who am I?

In the face of shattering or overwhelming life experiences, we find ourselves shedding off certain aspects of ourselves.  Such experiences show us that our masks no longer fit us and are no longer necessary;  or, they challenge our habitual ways of doing things, including our reactive responses.  In the process, we either rediscover and affirm, or unearth for the first time, certain parts of our core identity.  

I had two challenging experiences recently that brought out my innate nature and identity as a formator, i.e., as someone who approaches life as an opportunity for growth, healing, and integration. 

Two days ago, my son came home from school with grades that left me with a painful pit in my stomach and with heaviness in my chest.  I may be a helicopter parent but I'm not the kind who monitors how my son ranks in his class.  As long as I see him doing his best, I was happy with whatever grades he brings home. Not until Friday.  Two grades slumped by 12 points;  one was even below the passing mark.  And the subjects were arts and physical education.  How on earth can someone who makes such creative dress-ups or draw good quality materials fail in arts.  And what on earth did he do (or not do) to have a barely passing mark in P.E.  His defences were all-time high.  He said everyone else's grades went down (But I thought he said he was different from everyone?  Since when did he become just like everyone else?).  He said these subjects didn't really count as these were not counted in the computation of quality point index to stay in the special Science, Engineering, and Technology program. He said I should also notice that his grades in the academic subjects went up and were even in the 90s mark.  To me, of course, it is not so much the grades but the underlying work ethics which he seemed to be losing sight of.  

I was about to start a meeting at work and felt I was not in the right disposition to talk so I told him we would talk later.  He locked himself up in his room - for the first time!  How dare him!  Wasn't I supposed to be the one who was upset?  

After my meeting, I took a few deep breaths and gave myself some space to listen to my inner Self.  After looking at where my feelings were coming from, I tried to see things from my son's perspective.  What was he feeling?  This surely wasn't easy on him, too, as he had always been an achiever in his classes (something which may have led him to believe he wasn't capable of failing and therefore became complacent).  As I prepared to talk to him, I told myself our conversation couldn't take the blaming route.  I found myself coming up with guide questions.  I asked him how he felt and how he thought I felt.  I told him what upset me. I asked him what he thought was his personal contribution to this failure.  And then we dwelt on how we could move forward. I asked him what he learned from the experience and what he could do to make things better. We came up with concrete action plans. We ended the conversation peacefully.  He was his sweet self that night.  Although it was not until the following day that I fully recovered from the experience, I knew I had managed the situation well.  I could even jokingly say to him the following day, "I love you, anak, even if you bring home a 73."  

In a similar vein, although I struggled with the announcement of SV, someone very dear to me, that he would have to be away from the country for years on a month's notice instead of the six months we had anticipated, I slowly came to terms with the inevitable.  I knew things would be very difficult and different, but I knew that we should maximise the limited time we still had to prepare and make lots of good memories that would strengthen our relationship.  While on my ride to one of my hospital visits one day, I wrote down questions that we both individually reflect on before we talked face-to-face.  I thought the questions would help us know where each was and how we could support each other to make the transition a little easier for each other.  What could we do to nurture the relationship?  To help him, I also prepared questions to help him wrap up and give closure to what he would be leaving here.  

I'm amazed at this resilience.  I know I'm not one who easily bounces back from overwhelming life situations, but I also know myself to be someone who, when I finally bounce back, can find meaning in my experience and see how God's faithful love sustained me.  One thing I would like to celebrate in myself now, in my middle years, is how I now manage to be constructive as I work my way through difficult situations. Yes, I still cry buckets of tears and have episodes when I feel like exploding sometimes, but I manage not to wallow in my pains. Now, I am not just a formator to seminar or workshop participants; I'm a formator to myself as well (not to mention to my beloveds).