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.