by rossanahead | Dec 17, 2011 | career, Education
By Paula Bianca Abiog
Since I was a child, I have always known I wanted to become a writer. I learned how to read by flipping through newspapers and magazines at three; started writing my own stories (patterned after my favorite fairy tales) at six; composed long entries in lock-and-key journals by 11; and seriously considered writing as a career when I was 16.
Five years ago, I got my dream job. I was finally going to write for a magazine. And with getting my dream job came plans to eventually become an editor one day.
I loved my job. I got to interview and write about celebrities and inspiring men and women; I was able to tackle relevant, sometimes controversial, topics, and more. I was able to go to different places around the country and write about what I saw, from Batanes in the north to Bohol in the south.
But as the years went by, while I still loved writing about people, places, and issues, I found myself doing the same thing over and over again. I felt that I was stuck in a rut, and lately, I felt I wasn’t improving as a writer. I also wanted to try other things, to see if I can do more than just writing. And after a few months agonizing over whether to stay or to go, I finally decided to try my luck in doing something new.
Even if I knew I made the decision for career growth, I initially felt I was abandoning my childhood dream, my plans to become an editor, and the friends I made in those five years. But life doesn’t always pan out the way you envision it, plans don’t materialize exactly when you want them, and friendships don’t end when one leaves to pursue something new. More importantly, I realized that I won’t stop being a writer just because I wanted to try a different tack.
Sometimes, getting what you want, when you want it doesn’t always lead to the fabulous ending you’ve always wished for. Perhaps one day you’ll get what you want when you least expect it, when God, or the fates, feel that you’re ready to finally have what you want. And to be able to grow and move forward, you sometimes have to take a different and unfamiliar path to shake you up. You have to step out of your comfort zone, test the waters, flounder a bit, and find your footing once more, so your growth doesn’t get stunted.
Paula now works for the corporate communications office of a large corporation. And yes, she is still very much a writer.
Photo by Estée Janssens on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Sep 11, 2011 | career, woman
By Romelda C. Ascutia
A little over a year ago, I took the biggest risk of my career: I decided to quit the corporate world and work on my own terms—as a freelance editor.
I wish I could say that it was a calculated risk, born of long planning and preparation. Truth is, it was a precipitous leap of faith during one of the lowest points in my life. I decided to leave a job I loved because after four years, it had turned into a nightmare parade of unending deadlines, long work hours, and nasty office politics.
The thought of diving immediately into a full-blown search for another full-time job filled me with aversion. So I gave myself a few months to scope out the freelance job market. If nothing happened, I could always look for a regular job again.
I was confident of my chances of finding project-based work quickly. Modesty aside, my credentials weren’t too shabby. Over the years I had held senior editor positions, such as managing editor or editor in chief, at a number of magazines. I also worked as a section editor at newspapers and as a content manager for a website. I wrote and edited books, columns, and various print materials.
But to my dismay, the projects didn’t come rushing my way—like a dog bounding to her mistress the minute she steps through the door—as I thought they would. Openings for home-based work posted on job search sites almost always entailed long hours at starvation rates. I snagged a regular monthly gig and some accounts here and there, but they weren’t enough to raise a family on.
As the months passed, my anxiety mounted. If the work inflow remained at a trickle, my savings would dry up! Fortunately, with fervent prayers and a fresh new year came a welcome change of pace.
Suddenly all my self-promotion efforts began paying off, and the projects came one after the other. A publisher asked me to manage her newly launched website. She then referred me to her former officemate, an overseas-based editorial manager looking for a freelance business writer (I knew nothing about world finance but somehow I passed the writing test). The sister of another colleague introduced me to a publisher who needed an editor for one of their school magazines.
I look back in amazement at the heart-stopping journey I made and where it has led me. Just last year I was clinging to a precipice, blindsided, struggling to climb back up or plunge into an abyss. Now I have found a work style that allowed me to practice my craft again, but without the pressures of office life.
What I’ve learned from my career crisis? Setbacks may knock you down, but a good work ethic, perseverance, and helping hands from Someone up there and friends who believe in you, will help you overcome. The trials that land you on your butt may be opportunities to start anew in disguise.
by rossanahead | Sep 7, 2011 | Education, Gina Abuyuan, woman
By Regina Abuyuan
Around mid-2004, I did the unthinkable: I joined a self-enhancement seminar.
Before I actually signed up, though, I went through the usual motions: denial that I needed it; balking at the price; and scoffing at the too-happy, seemingly too-confident people who gave their testimonials. “Interesting,” I thought. “But not for me.”
Curiosity and a good deal on the terms of payment made me register eventually, and in two months, I was sitting with a group of a hundred or so people, eager to discover if this seminar (which promised us “everything we wanted out of life” and “personal breakthroughs”) was really everything its participants said it was.
In a way, they were right.
I learned that most, if not all, of us never live in the present. We live in the past or the future, and the baggage of our past and the anticipation of what’s going to happen in the future affect our choices today.
I learned to consider things, events, people, words just as they are—nothing more, nothing less. They only gain meaning when we color them with our own intent and personal dramas.
I learned that the everyday complaints we have about people and situations are what hinder us from moving forward. I learned that we actually are attached to those complaints and don’t want to give them up, even if we know we can and should, because we get a payoff from feeling and believing in such.
What are these payoffs? We may feel right (or righteous), we may feel powerful, or for those who like it, we may feel victimized. Whatever it is, those payoffs make us blind to what really matters: Would you rather be right, or alone? Powerful, or feared? Strong, or perennially stressed out? Victimized, or always dependent on other people’s perceptions of you?
I learned about choices, how they’re different from decisions, and how you can make your life work by re-making your choices every day—or unmaking them with the same commitment if your life isn’t working.
I learned how to “complete” things and issues with other people; and how to feel complete with incompletions if the other person wasn’t yet in the right space to allow that completion.
I even learned that the simple formula of context-breakdown-breakthrough could be applied to almost anything (in fact, it’s one of the formulas I give to younger writers if they ask for story guidelines).
These may sound simple, and I learned so much more from this basic seminar, that I enrolled in the Advanced Course, and later, the Leadership Course. As I am not a trained Forum Leader and one blog entry can’t encapsulate everything the seminar has to offer, it would be unfair for me to expound more.
There are some who get addicted to seminars like these, though, and when that happens, their self-improvement goals become counter-productive. Self-enhancement programs are meant to enable you to stand on your own; they’re not meant to become a crutch.
I stopped being actively involved in those seminars in 2006. Life continued, but this time I was equipped with tools I needed to deal with certain aspects of it; to transform the way I previously handled problems and issues. I don’t use all of them all at once, and sometimes I forget to use them at all, but they’re there when I choose to pull them out, and so far they’ve served me well. “We already know that,” skeptics will say about seminars like these. “We just need a reminder.”
True, but it takes a bit of humility to be open to those reminders; and a bit more to actually accept them. Don’t get me wrong—this isn’t an advertisement for you to go out and sign up for the first self-enhancement class you encounter. Those opportunities for self-improvement can come in different forms, and at the right time.
Meanwhile, be willing to be nudged, to consider another person’s perspective— an external voice, if you will—to make you realize your “blind spots” and help you bloom.
Be willing to do the unthinkable.
by rossanahead | Sep 1, 2011 | career, children, Education, Karen Galarpe
By Karen Galarpe
At a lunch meeting with a school official, talk veered to teaching. I asked the woman I met with if she also teaches there.
“No! I can’t teach these young kids. I tried before, but I just can’t do it again. I can teach adults, but not college kids,” she said.
She then went on to explain how difficult teaching is and moreso when the students are not interested or behaved. I nodded in agreement, as I know what she’s talking about.
Back in 2005, I taught communication subjects at a college nearby, and the yearlong stint has instilled in me an even greater respect for teachers. You see, I realized how much of a vocation teaching is.
You spend many hours preparing for your classes, then when you are in class, you give all that you’ve got. Teaching exacts much of you, as you give of yourself so your students can learn. But I realized after a time, that even though you pour out your heart teaching, not everyone will learn. Only those who want to learn, who are willing to learn and be taught, and who are teachable will be the ones to benefit. Even the smart guys stand to lose if they are not hungry to learn.
It’s like me when faced with html codes that all look Greek to me. My brain refuses to process it, or refuses to even try, and I give up right away. I don’t even want to learn html because, well, it looks so complicated and I’d rather leave it for others to decipher. But give me something else–history, current events, whatever, and chances are, I’ll lap it up. I want to learn while I still have breath in me. There’s just so much going on in this world and we have so much to learn from each other.
As parents, we should instill in our children a love for learning. How? It starts with us. When we ourselves show amazement at new discoveries, when we make the effort to feed our minds and engage in critical thinking, when we look upon our world with curiosity and ask, what can I do to make this world better–children pick that up.
Love learning. It’s a great way to live!
by rossanahead | Aug 27, 2011 | career, Education, Mari-an Santos, woman
By Mari-An Santos
I am in the midst of packing my life.
A few weeks ago, I shared the news with all of you that I was awarded a scholarship grant to take up my Masters abroad, specifically in Europe under the Erasmus Mundus program. After receiving the happy news, I thought that the toughest task I would have to do was to pack my bags. I was wrong. The process of obtaining a student visa isn’t exactly easy—and I even had to fly to another country to get the process going. Don’t ask.
Fortunately, things ironed themselves out and now here I am, on the verge of moving.
I look around at my room now. On one side, bags and suitcases are stacked, huddled together like an army in the trenches; in one corner, almost-empty bookshelves and cabinets; and strewn all around are CDs, books, notebooks, brochures, and leaflets that have yet to be organized and categorized. But how do you pack up more than half a decade of memories?
The task of giving away some of the books, magazines, CDs, and clothes that would have added more weight to my already burgeoning luggage was close to Herculean. Clothes had to be categorized under the “yes,” “no,” and “maybe” piles.
The books were the hardest to go through. After setting aside the books that I had borrowed, which were to be returned to their rightful owners, I couldn’t bring myself to give away or even sell any of the books I had before me. My mother always says, “If you’ve already read them, why can’t we give them away?” But with a heavy heart, I eventually bid goodbye to a handful.
I also had to decide which brochures, maps, old flight and bus tickets, and calling cards I could throw out. The memories from each and every trip triggered by a scrap of paper or a notation on a map, made me hesitate every time. Calling cards, though years old, may prove useful later on. In the end, I decided to scale down the pile of cards and to have my maps and travel guides adopted by friends.
Looking around my room, I am impressed at how I managed to fit so many items into less than a dozen bags. I am also amazed at how much the human brain can recall. Though I have given away many things, the memories they conjure are vast and unlimited.
Wish me luck!
