I was asked months ago one question that shook me and made
me reasonably disturbed.
“Tobit, who are you
without all your titles and involvements?”
I could have easily answered the question and say that I
most probably would still be serving and volunteering in some community work
even without labels. But I did not. I wasn’t able to. I was engulfed by the
question and the question led me to ask more and more questions.
Believe it or not (and yes, you may call me over acting), I
got depressed. I started asking if the things that I’m currently involved in
are really what I wanted to do. I thought to myself: Will I be cleaning creeks
the rest of my life? Will I be training young people until I get old? Will I
remain in politics? Would that decision sustain me?
I wasn’t confronted with any immediate answer. Instead, more
and more questions started pouring in that even my background on Psychology
won’t help me ‘psych-up’ myself.
I felt lost and I felt scared of the uncertainty of my future.
But What Happened To
My Why?
I have a ‘why’ in the work that I do for my hometown and for
our country. Whenever asked why I do what I do, I would usually say that I do
it because I want my family and my future family to live in a better
community—a community that’s more just, more free and more green; and for the
next generation to feel that we did not prepare a world of chaos for them.
These thoughts help me wake up in the morning. These
thoughts eventually then developed to passion-- that my day won’t be complete
if I do not talk about it or do anything about it. This passion, throughout
time, eventually developed to love—that the sacrifices it entails slowly
shifted from being a burden to being something that fills my heart with
profound, unexplainable gladness.
The concern grew from selfish reasons of giving a better
life to my family to be wanting to provide a better life to all, especially to
those who are most in need—the least, the last and the lost. It transcended
beyond myself and my immediate circle.
Now here’s where the dilemma comes in. Just when I thought I
was already certain and clear with my why did the questioning of my core came
in.
Imagine that you were really, really hungry. It took some
time for you to realize that you’re actually craving for a burger. You kept on
thinking about it and so you finally decided to go to the best burger store in
town and queued. Just when you reached the counter, you started asking yourself
if you still wanted a burger. The cashier asked for your order, but you did not
know what to say. You’re not quite sure why all of sudden you do not know what
to buy, but the cashier kept on insisting that you place your order. You stand
there, stared blankly, caught off-guarded, not knowing what to do or say.
Perhaps there were too many options? Or that your hunger
have already gone to pass? Maybe the hunger contributed to the poor decision-making? Or maybe the cashier put too much pressure on you?
A mentor once told me that when facing important questions
in life, we must not hurry the answers—we must live the questions and face the
uncertainty of not knowing the answers just yet. It’s not going to be easy, but
somehow you must manage to tell the cashier that sorry, you suddenly felt
uncertain if you still wanted a burger and that you’ll get back when you have
decided.
Have the courage to step out of the line first, find a quiet
corner, look at the menu, look at your options and decide on what you really
want. This burger store operates 24/7 and there’s no need to hurry.
A ‘Why’ On Test
Perhaps, all that I’ve experienced were tests on my ‘why’--
my purpose. I realized that in this age where I transition to adulthood, that
the quest for finding and understanding ‘why’ becomes more real. It is in this
age that my problems are becoming more concrete and more felt. It is
where I now start to think longer-term and to think beyond myself.
Since I’m starting to realize that life isn’t as simple as I’ve
imagined it to be (study-> find a job-> have a family-> travel ->
live happily ever after), I now think more carefully. From being very
idealistic and optimistic, I slowly shift to the side of realism, with little doses of idealism and optimism still on the side.
Given all these realities, my ‘why’ is put to test. Should I
still focus on my advocacy if it would mean compromising my corporate work,
which is my bread and butter? Would I still work on cleaning rivers and
providing livelihood programs to other people when our own business got
bankrupted and my family is already trying to make both ends meet?
In this transition, the value of my decisions are starting
to become heavier and sometimes, more painful. Maybe, this is why I got stuck
with so many questions: because I now fully understand that my decisions will
not just affect me, and that it will ripple.
Maybe this is why I am scared of being 25.
I will not pretend that I now understand how all these work
and that I’m already comfortable with it. I will not pretend that I already
have all the answers to my questions. But something deep within me is telling
me that I should continue the journey and that I should hang on to my ‘why’—even
if it is under scrutiny and is surrounded by millions of questions.
For the more it is challenged, the more it grows, the more
it matures and the more it becomes stronger.
Here’s to being 25 and for being guilty of overthinking!
