I've always loved Paulo Coelho. He reminds me so much of my moderator--calm, wise, profound, and very truthful. Even if he isn't aware that i exist and admire his mind, i look up to him as a mentor. From the very first time i read about him and got hold of his book The Alchemist, i've been drawn to him. Undeniably, he is one of the greatest thinkers of our time. Though i've only read four of his novels, i have fully imbibed every lesson he wove into each one. And although i am not able to religiously follow his blog, time and time again  i would be featuring some of his entries here as part of my reflection exercise.

Ideal Conditions

The ideal conditions that you are looking for don’t exist. We shall never be able to get rid of certain defects. The trick is to know that despite all your flaws you are an extraordinary person.

Yes, you know very well but try to go beyond the limits that you are used to – for ten minutes a day – be that person you have always wanted to be. If the problem is shyness, stimulate conversation. If the problem is guilt, feel approved. If you think that the world ignores you, try consciously to attract everyone’s looks. You will experience the occasional difficult situation, but it’s worth it.

If for ten minutes a day you can manage to be what you dreamed, you are already making great progress.

(Source: http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2011/02/01/reality/)

If only...

I guess this is one of the most popular phrases that crosses everyone's mind every once so often. "If only I were so and so, I would be like this and like that." We never run out of the proverbial "ideal conditions" which we set for ourselves based on our individual preferences. And these conditions are what would set the stage for the fulfillment of our dreams. But the big questions is: "Can these ideal conditions exist on their own without our interference?"

I don't think so. Whether we acknowledge it or not, there is no way we can turn our dreams into reality if we refuse to do anything about them. Wishing is never enough. But if we want something so bad, unconsciously we eventually motivate ourselves to get moving towards fulfilling it. There is a big difference between imagining these ideal conditions and then feeling remorseful that the universe has not set them before us like food on a silver platter, and thinking about them in a way that we envision them to become real in the not so distant future. 

Doing the latter fuels our drive, albeit our knowledge. In envisioning the most ideal conditions to set the stage for accomplishing our dreams or getting what we want sans the pathetic remorse, we condition our minds to get moving. Before we know it, we are already doing concrete measures to make these ideal conditions real. From here onwards, everything will just come our way without our noticing it.  "The universe conspires to fulfill the hopes of the dreamer who seriously puts his mind and heart into his dreams." Why? Because dreaming with one's heart and mind pushes him or her to work towards making things happen. 

Like what Coelho had suggested, we can start out little by little, taking it one day at a time. In fact, he suggested allotting only 10 minutes a day, making no more than whatever measure is possible given our individual circumstance. Following his advice, in due time 10 minutes would increase to 20 then 30 and so on and so forth. With this, our efforts would likewise escalate until such time that we are already dedicating ourselves fully towards fulfilling our dreams, thus we have already succeeded in actualizing our ideal conditions. 

Coelho is right. Ideal conditions do not exist. They wouldn't exist unless we make it possible for them to do so.

Today, I sit here in the comfort of this tiny room i share with my friend(and mom during weekdays), spilling my thoughts on this blog while i force myself to eat all of the salty meat fritata my mom gave me along with half a cup of rice. Feeling a little bit better than yesterday and the day before that despite a still-clogged nose and an inflamed throat, again i have absented myself from work today. I called in sick as early as 5:30 in the morning and then spent some time  relaying instructions to my trainee via sms and over the phone. 

Since this is the first day of February, today's absence would be my first sick leave for the month. But considering the other three absences i had last January, i've already accumulated a total of four absences, all of them sick leaves. 
Honestly, i just used the first two absences to idle around our tiny room here; resting, reading, and sleeping the day away. Before the end of 2010, i got information from our HR that i still had 13 vacation leaves to consume. I just do not know up to when i could use them given that a new set of leaves would be made available in what was then the coming year, which is now 2011. And since our leaves--both vacation and sick leaves, a total of 24 for the duration of an entire work year--are no longer convertible to cash should we opt not to use them, i guess that leaves us with no other reasonable option than to do otherwise, if only for the sake of being fair to ourselves. 

But given the workload i've had since June of last year, it was impossible to do that. I had to sacrifice which i did, especially because my supervisor had succumbed to stress after my then-officer dropped a bomb,  when she resigned immediately without so much as an explanation or a last word. He managed to pull through; I did the same, too. 

On a positive note, setting aside the fact that i had to swallow the unfairness of shouldering the workload of three or four writers at once, i was able to prove to myself that the miracle worker, a term my moderator had coined for me several years back referring to my surprising ability to deliver well despite unthinkable odds,  is still very much alive in me. I thought i have somehow lost some, if not most, of that ability. But to my surprise and delight, I was proven wrong. 

In fact(and thank God for that), I can very well say that i am better than ever. The miracle worker is very much alive and well and raring to seize the day as always. Though i may not have been given any career advancement, let alone a salary increase,  for my heroic and altruistic efforts, i obtained a personal satisfaction from realizing that i could still push myself to the limits without buckling from the pressure. 

Okay, so i tend to freak out every now and then. So shoot me, after all, I am still very human in every perceivable context. But that hardly did anything to affect the quality of my work or slow me down. Rather than dampen my enthusiasm, I was even more spurred to forge ahead and accomplish the task at hand. The intermittent freak-out episodes were merely manifestations of the intense energy surge in me, as i tackled one workload after another like crazy. I was a writing/editing monster on the loose, and if i were working at the publishing house still, it would not have surprised me at all to realize that i also had to do my own set of illustrations for whatever manuscript i was working on. 

I am madly in love with my work. 

Be it writing, editing, illustrating, painting, designing, or even teaching; that nameless energy , the relentless drive to just give my all and lose myself in the challenge, is consuming and irresistible at the same time. The distinctive feeling of that energy rushing through my head and permeating every part of me is intoxicating and addictive, giving me a mental high like no other. The moment I get started, there is no stopping me. Immediately, i change from this dreamy girl-woman to one mean working machine, charging onwards without question, a bullet train keen on reaching its destination despite the odds. Early on, as young as 18, i have allowed myself to be severely trained for professional work. And it was downright hard. Not the kind of hurdle anyone could imagine an innocent-faced, naive lass would and could manage to take on. I was trained to become a bull-headed career bitch, expected to grow fangs and claws and bare them with aplomb. 

Yes, I definitely developed an edge. I found myself, mastered most of my weaknesses, and learned the value of responsibility and leadership. Then after miraculously making it through the training in one piece(and in flying colors as my moderator had said),  i decided that i was not cut out for the cut-throat, frenetic world of advertising. It would be hypocrisy to say that i didn't find it flattering to be told that i had the attitude and talent required to become one hell of a bull-headed career bitch. Yet through it all, i chose to live peacefully and content myself with my natural passion for what i do without having to kick asses or battle my way to corporate success. Though naturally competitive, i loathe competitions. Moreover, i can't stand work politics. I know i can learn anything i put my mind and heart to, yet i deliberately shied away from computer graphics, satisfying myself with the innate creative prowess of the God-given mind and hands i am fortunately blessed with.

I thought i could live in my own protective bubble forever, slaving away happily oblivious to whatever going-ons there may be in the workplace. So long as i am happy and doing what i do best, the world is right where it should be. But hard work, sacrifice, and passion do not account for anything in the eyes of most company administrations. If someone is foolish enough to give more without asking for due compensation or even appreciation, they would be more than glad to accept it without even the slightest hint of a pending incentive or recognition. I don't want to think that all bosses are cold-hearted and uncaring. I don't want to think that after all i've done they still think i am dispensable and could be replaced easily. 

The emotional stress brought about by these realizations and pondering has gotten hold of me. This might explain why i've been so sickly these days, to think that i took pains in acquiring and maintaining a healthy lifestyle comprised of a veggie diet complete with vitamin supplements and regular workouts at the gym. And yet, no matter how these thoughts bother me every night before falling asleep, everything dissolves into nothingness the minute i sit in front of my pc at the office and begin working. 

I already said it once and i'm saying it again, "I am madly in love with my work."

I could only care less about work politics or what my bosses are thinking. I can forget about the injustice of not getting paid rightfully the moment my fingers touch the keyboard. It hurts to be treated unfairly, but the pain dissolves every time i lose myself in the tasks at hand. So great is my love for my work that I have become numb to everything else. I just wonder: "Until when can my love for my work keep me sheltered from reality?"  

Though trained to be a bull-headed professional bitch, i couldn't be happier that i did not transform into one. Actually, i am adamant never to become one. I want to remain the honest, hardworking creative that i've always been. I am what i am--a straightforward, no-nonsense, passionate writer and artist whose heart is directly aligned with her head. If i want to get ahead of the game, i would do so through my dedication and honesty evident in the quality of my output and nothing else. Making career changes by seeking employment elsewhere is not the answer for now. Losing my mind by lashing out emotionally, bad-mouthing my superiors in my blog like what one of my colleagues had done, is the worst and most idiotic move i would never ever make. It's enough that i spill my sentiments here without going overboard and resorting to mindless histrionics. Thus, out of the need to make a concrete move to claim justice, i talked to my supervisor and appealed  for a raise. He complied readily. 

He keeps me updated about it--his way of saying that he is working on it. I am appreciated after all. I just hope that my other big bosses realize how hard i've worked and give me what is due to me. Though they can choose to be blind and deaf to everything, blocking out the presence of those who have dedicated themselves to their causes, i know and i'm sure that God would not abandon me and let their indifference swallow me whole. Unusual as it seems, love for my work suffices to keep me afloat. It may not sustain my survival forever, but for now it will do.