A Last Look at my 48th

Surviving life's storms and earthquakes: House of Dakay, Oldest Ivatan House in Batanes built in 1887 

Before I finally say goodbye to my 48th and welcome my 49th, I take a step back and review the year that was.  How timely that our mindfulness facilitator is in town and organized a weekend mindfulness practice yesterday.  The practice helped me to slow down and spend a fraction of my day being rather than doing.  The practice helped me to see the past year with new eyes, or perhaps more accurately, with a clearer sense of vision.

If I am to describe my 48th in one word, the first word that comes to mind is HUMBLING. The year was filled with so many experiences that made me come face-to-face with my pride, my arrogance, and my limitedness as a person. It was a year that shattered many of my illusions about myself as well as my sources of security.  

Having grown accustomed to having financial means, panic began to grip me when I realized that my expenses far outweighed my earnings. As the numbers in my bank accounts went down, so did my self-assurance. I had a relatively stable individual consultancy practice before joining my last organization so that when the redundancy option was offered to me two years ago, I didn't have any anxiety or fear at all as I was sure I'd easily find rewarding engagements. I would realize though that most of the organizations I worked with had remained as they were and still paid fees not far from what they'd pay me back then.  I'd realize too that some of the income earning engagements that would bring home the bacon seven years ago, I couldn't do anymore. Initially I'd just be amused at the fact that there would be months when my income didn't even come close to the taxes I was paying in my former employment. It didn't matter that my total income for the year was hardly two months worth of salary in my previous job until the pressure of paying for insurances became too burdensome and I realized there's no turning back in paying for these as termination of the insurance would mean losing more than 50 percent of what I had already payed. The initial excitement in applying for new jobs was replaced with anxiety and diminishing self-worth as my applications were returned with nothing but acknowledgment email reply templates, if not dead silence. People said I was either overqualified for the roles I was applying for or didn't have sufficient skills required for the role. Nothing could be more humbling for someone who had always felt confident that she had gifts to offer to the world. It almost felt like I didn't have good enough gifts or that my gifts weren't really needed in this world, like those cute stuff that one receives as gifts but that one doesn't really have use for. 

It didn't help at all that I was bombarded with all the unbelievable turn of events in the socio-political life of my country (and the bigger world outside). With so much time on my hands, I had all the time to read news updates and to pay attention to my Facebook news feed. The feeling of helplessness and the sense of disbelief came with questions as to whether our generation had failed the younger generation for becoming too complacent over the past decades.  Did we unknowingly brought us into this seemingly much worse situation, as a country, than we were 20 years ago?

It was not easy to lose interest in life and in living at some point. I was beginning to say more and more that I was losing the will to live, and there were times when I really meant it. During these times of disquiet and hopelessness, something held me together. And that was LOVE.

Difficult though I was during those times, I was loved. There were people who held my hand, who assured me of support and who did support me in ways I didn't imagine possible, and who shared my hopes for the future of this country.  Similarly, I loved my son enough to want to make things work for us financially, to want to be present to him at all costs, and to not give up. . . yet. . .  on this country. I had to hang on, not because those I love would be disappointed if I didn't but because it mattered to them that I am here - no matter what state of mind and finances I was in. 

The year's challenges taught me to be more vulnerable and to realize that my worth didn't depend on how much money I had in my pockets or on my capacity to treat loved ones to special meals or give them expensive gifts. I also learned the arts of asking for and receiving help.

Love and those I love and who love me had been my "candle on the water" during this year of disappointments and setbacks. I remember listening to Helen Reddy's Candle on the Water several times in an attempt to stay afloat. 

I'll be your candle on the water

My love for you will always burn

I know you're lost and drifting

But the clouds are lifting

Don't give up, you have somewhere to turn

I'll be your candle on the water

'Till every wave is warm and bright

My soul is there beside you

Let this candle guide you

Soon you'll see a golden stream of light

A cold and friendless tide has found you

Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down

I'll paint a ray of hope around you

Circling in the air, lighted by a prayer