We took the world as given.
Cigarettes were twenty-several cents a pack,
And gas as much per gallon. Sex came wrapped in rubber
And veiled in supernatural scruples—
Call them chivalry . . . .

Psychology was in the mind; abstract
things grabbed us where we lived; the only life
worth living was the private life, and— last,
Worst scandal in this characterization—
We did not know we were a generation.

John Updike


I know that I’ve been away for a while, stuck in the daily grind of finding a life and making a living, and it’s been hard just standing still. Perhaps this really is a sign of my generation: nearing thirty, coming into our own, constantly being on the move. Almost every day, I get news of people changing jobs, getting married, moving abroad. Very few of us, in fact, are still in our first jobs out of law school. Some have even given up lawyering altogether. Others have even chosen to stake their fortunes in foreign lands. It is an unnerving experience, I think, to realize that one’s life is completely and inexorably in one’s hands.

Here’s a brief run-down of what I have since done with mine:

1. I’ve changed law offices. From the litigation firm of Poblador Bautista & Reyes, I am now an associate at Romulo Mabanta Buenaventura Sayoc & de los Angeles Law Office, one of largest law offices in the country. The firm is known for its securities, arbitration and capital markets transactions, but, strangely enough, much of my work remains in to be in litigation. I am though, fortunately, doing a number of deals, transactions and arbitrations. Needless to say, I still feel that I really don’t know anything— I get by only by the grace of God.

2. I just presently finished a semester teaching Obligations and Contracts to freshmen at the Ateneo Law School. I will also be beginning my second semester of teaching Land Titles at the FEU-La Salle MBA-JD Program in May. I also taught Transportation Law for a semester to a total of six students at the Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Pasay, all of whom were at least five years older than me and members of the Philippine National Police.

Balancing my responsibilities at the law office, where I often have to do sixteen hour days, and finding time to prepare for my classes, has been quite a challenge. And quite frankly, there are days when I feel that I am tremendously short-changing my students. Without my teaching, however, I honestly think that I would have gone nuts a long time ago. It has been quite an enjoyable experience, however (although I am sure, my students will describe my teaching as anything but enjoyable!)

3. I am now a certified Open Water Diver. I got my diver’s certification in April 2007, at Dive and Trek, in Anilao, Batangas, and since then, I have been fortunate enough to be able to dive the waters of El Nido, Palawan, Balicasag Island in Bohol, and Cebu. I can think of very few times where I can honestly say that I am entirely and completely in the moment. Being sixty feet under water, sounds muffled, moving in slow motion, it is an experience both soothing and exhilarating at the same time. Unfortunately, I have not been able to go on dives recently, owing to my very busy schedule. But the possibility of going underwater soon is a prospect that I thoroughly look forward to.

4. I’ve also had the chance to travel to quite a number of places over the past months, among them: Ankor Wat, Kuala Lumpur, Singapore, Hong Kong, Beijing, Puerto Galera, Boracay and Cebu City.

Through changes and travels and learnings, though, I think I’m still the same person. I little bit more jaded, perhaps, a lot more grown-up. But still the same person. It is with this thought that I am (hopefully) signing back on, and emerging (for occasional peeks) from this veritable cave of mine. Here we go. . . .

I wonder if what you told me tonight was true: that the problem with people like us is that we really don’t know how to be loved. Or perhaps that we are afraid to be happy.

After all, the mutual alone-ness by which we have marked our recent days have not been for a lack of people who have tried to love us— crazily so, even when we have tried to push away. And this is perhaps our greatest consolation: that in spite of all, we are still, somehow, lovable. And so, it appears that the reason for our loneliness is actually our own doing, and the key to our happiness is actually our own choosing.

Why, then, do we still push away? Is it because we fear being too vulnerable, too close, too familiar? Is it borne out of a fear that, with proximity, they will eventually realize that all that glitters is actually not gold? Or is it because, having settled into comfortable routines, there is always that nagging possibility that there must be something more, something far better yet beyond the horizon?

You did not give me an answer, only a silence borne pregnant by what I knew we both felt. It was not hopelessness, really, but a regret and nostalgia for opportunities lost, and possibilities preempted. But there was no use sulking over the past, we both agreed. So we looked to the future, armed with what we already knew: that it was okay to be loved, and it was okay to be happy. All we needed now was our salvation: the grace of a second chance.