Reconnect With Your Core

This blog has allowed me to reconnect not only with my love for writing but also with my inner core, my commitment to serving others.

Since starting my current job, I’ve always felt a bit anxious about my role. Please don't get me wrong. Although I sometimes feel like an oddball, I’ve grown to love what I’m doing, big thanks to my colleagues, who are great to work with. It’s just that I have a deep desire to do so much more.

For context, I left my government job in 2022 because we were transitioning back to face-to-face work, and the office was in Quezon City, while I was living in Laguna. At that time, there was no One Ayala yet, meaning the transport system was horrible, with queuing times of 3 to 5 hours just to get on a bus home, and I’m not even exaggerating. (Though commuting has become easier now.) Driving to QC wasn’t an option either, not only because tolls and gas were too expensive, but also because I couldn’t bear the notorious traffic. I would get home at 11 PM or midnight, then wake up at 4 AM to prepare and catch the 5 AM bus, or else I’d be late for work. It took such a toll on me that I resigned just in time for the new year.

It was also timely because a big opportunity came up in 2023, which would allow us to start anew in the land of the maple tree.

Those were the reasons I quit. But in terms of work, I must say it was fulfilling. Not everyone has the chance to be a speechwriter for the head of an agency, sometimes for senators, the Vice President, or even the President of the Republic. I also loved creating presentations, handling media engagements, and being involved in various activities of the agency. There was one time when I was part of an entrapment operation and another when I wrote all the speeches for a summit like welcoming remarks, keynote address, messages of support, closing remarks, and more. It was exhausting and overwhelmingly stressful, but I loved what I was doing. Just like they say, "para sa bayan."

When I stepped into this new role, I was hesitant, but the hybrid work setup and the company’s values aligning with mine made it easier to accept the job, especially while waiting for our nomination and, now, our permanent residency papers. I didn’t expect the process to take as long as it has, and I also didn’t expect to be here longer than I initially thought.

As I mentioned, at first, I felt like an oddball and had to adjust to the ways of working. The bureaucratic burden we were trying to eliminate in the government agency was somewhat evident here since we're working with different clients, and there are different layers of approvals before anything gets published or released. Literally, every move or step requires clearance from the client, unlike in the government agency, where I worked directly with the Secretary. He had the final say on most matters, or if needed, I could directly coordinate with adjacent offices, which saved time and ensured timely releases. But again, don't get me wrong. I totally understand both systems, and over time, I was able to adjust. 

I'm doing just fine, but the thought that I should be doing something else has never left my mind.

As I started this blog, I had conversations with various people in this field, but one stood out, the one with a respected journalist from Western Visayas.

He is a supportive media friend who has supported our initiatives in the region. We also share a fondness for classical music, art (except that I am a frustrated artist), and literature. 

With his substantial experience in government and social work, combined with his media expertise, he has undeniably mastered his craft.

I began reading his blog from years ago, and many of his pieces remain relevant today. I admire how he seamlessly incorporates theories, studies, and the realities of daily life, presenting facts with conviction in a way that’s both heartfelt and sincere.

Through his writing, I got to meet different people.

One of them was his grandmother, whom he described as an epitome of the women of her generation. He shared that despite Filipino women’s efforts to get a good education, many remain confined to household roles, facing increasingly complex challenges. The government's failure to provide adequate social services, especially for women, has resulted in a growing "social debt," worsened by its focus on financial obligations.

I also came across a story about Neneng, an ambulant vendor who was nearly apprehended for casually crossing a busy street, unaware of the reintroduced anti-jaywalking ordinance.

This highlighted the importance of public awareness campaigns to inform people about existing laws and policies. It's not enough to simply inform them. The government must ensure that these laws and policies are understood, especially by marginalized communities.

I also learned about Rene, a heartbreaking story. Rene was heavily tortured, eventually killed, and his body was dumped near his home. According to the blog, he was a good man who fought for what was right and for the rights of his fellowmen, but he met a tragic end.

It is disheartening to read these kinds of stories, but at the same time, they inspire a deep respect for those who have sacrificed their lives for the truth and the welfare of others. I'm nowhere near Rene's level of courage to speak out and stand for what is right. However, it has inspired me to do what I can, in my own small way, to serve the Filipino people.

I've read a lot about societal problems from those times, and it's both amazing and saddening that many of the issues we faced then are still present today. It makes me wonder what the government and lawmakers have been doing all these years. It feels as if the country has not evolved, with people stuck in unresolved, perennial problems. This sad reality suggests that it may take two to three generations of competent leaders to truly address these issues and lift the country out of its deep-seated struggles.

We had a very interesting and insightful conversation on a Sunday morning, a kind of discussion I’ve been craving. I haven’t had such a conversation outside of my classes or beyond my peers at UP.

Having worked with reformists, he has a deep understanding of how the system operates. With almost three decades of experience as an activist, and working with legislators, government officials, private sector groups, and businesses, he has witnessed the various levels of decision-making and the interests at play.

What stuck with me most from our conversation was, "Tama ang sabi ng iba, there are stories that will never see the light of day. Some are just too painful to be told."

I know it's true. It’s the reality we face. Still, a part of me hoped there would be light amid the suffering of our people, and that we wouldn’t just accept the system as it is. But yes, he was right. Totally right.

I have yet to read all his blogs, but I’m eager to learn from what he has written and what he has to say. I even plan to read them all. As the conversation continued, I found myself increasingly drawn to it. It felt like it quenched my thirst for wisdom and opened a new and broader perspective.

I’m still figuring out how to act on these realizations, but one thing is clear: I want to do something more. This conversation and the insights I’ve gained give me the courage to take action, whether in media relations or in whatever field I may pursue in the future.

I’m just amazed at how meeting people can make you feel less like an oddball and help you reconnect with your core.