MEANING IS A FIVE-LETTER WORD
by Lionel Zivan S. Valdellon

published in JOBSDB.com : 2000

It's a curse.

Or a blessing. But without the requisite perseverance and the outlets, it becomes a constant itch in the spirit. Like fungus on the soul. You have to tend to it or risk numbing yourself by drowning in a hollow status quo.

I'm talking about knowing that the world around you isn't amounting to much. I'm talking about realizing that the work you do in the corporate office doesn't involve spiritual upliftment, or a sharing of the self with those most in need. It's knowing you can still give so much and being frightened at what that might mean.

I am 29 years old, married. I graduated from college 7 years ago. Volunteered to teach college English in a rural school in Surigao Sur right after my diploma crossed my hands. Came back and started to fester in various small advertising boutiques that strangled my creativity, before I rediscovered various other talents in the magazine publishing industry. From there it was a logical step to hop into the web. Today, I'm in new media-- creating, and maintaining websites, still writing copy, still dreaming.

Except it's becoming harder and harder to dream in the situation we're in. Backed by a national picture that grows dimmer by the day (50 pesos to a dollar, last time I looked) and witnessing a government folding in upon itself, ready to supernova, life as a corporate worker isn't worth as much as it used to. My salary pays for living expenses... barely. With just enough left over for a little savings. And it doesn't look like things will be improving anytime soon. All some of my old classmates and former colleagues harp about is money and politics. Drinking beers with the boys isn't as fun as it used to be.

I have a job Mondays to Fridays, flexi-time. (Come in whatever time and do your 8 hours.) I have a gorgeous wife to come home to. While the amount of money I make will never buy me a car or a house, I'm comfy. So how come I'm bothered?

And suddenly it's been hitting home more strongly than it used to: I was not put on this earth to make websites.

My spirit is as deep in shit as the national government. Only difference is I CAN do something quickly about my own situation. I sincerely doubt congress can say the same.

What then?

After years of inactivity on the social outreach front, here I am helping out at a series of public high school recollections. Here I am organizing garage sales and fund-generating activities for the organization that sent me to Mindanao, the Jesuit Volunteers Philippines. Here I am thinking about teaching a college elective at my alma mater.

It's become pretty clear that I cannot help my country by sitting on my ass and complaining about ineffective politicians and corrupt systems or by merely sending out e-mails calling for impeachment. I can only do so much by attending rallies and mobilizations. There are better avenues, with more concrete results. Maybe I won't see the results in my lifetime, but there is such a thing as faith.

And it's become pretty clear that I've come to that point in my existence where I MUST give back something or risk fading away into a meaningless future.

I'm no saint. (Ask my wife.) I'm not about to tell you that what I'm doing is what you should do too. That's wholly up to you. What I do know is that this is the best way I know to invest my daily grind with meaning.

Because maybe, we were put on this earth to share.

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