Do you remember the playmate you had when you’re younger, probably when you were ten or eleven, who boldly told you that the reason why you’re always picked last is because you sucked at running games and everyone was just polite to single you out? Thirteen years later, that playmate returns in the form of a newfound friend who sternly identified who you really are. In a meagre five-word statement. In your face. And this friend didn’t even have the idea how important and powerful his statement was. By the time he said it, you froze in your seat because you knew he was right, and you felt afraid for yourself.
Do you remember your Religion teacher in high school you never got fond of because he always asked his students to reflect on themselves and directed you to ask fugly existential questions such as “Who am I?” or “What’s my Purpose in Life?” Eight years later, you are already in his age when he taught your class, and you wished you answered those reflections seriously.
Do you remember the lecture you learned in Comm 3 (Speech Comm) about Johari Window? It’s the window technique made by Luft and Ingham which helps to illustrate and determins self-awareness among individuals. Five years later and you discover another addition to the window’s first quadrant or Room 1: the Blind Spot. It contains things you’re not aware of but are seen by others. They see these things in you, you’re only oblivious. And you’re seriously (actually) thankful of knowing another of your “blind spot.” No matter how painful it could get, you are still grateful for these favors.
Do you remember Azula, Zuko’s evil sister in “Avatar: The Legend of Aang”? She’s the girl who wanted it all, and cares about no one. She has only two friends—Mai and Ty Lee; she’s also mean to them. Azula has her ways of getting things, and most of the time these measures involve harm against anyone. Her friends love her, so they always keep silent when Azula’s character manifests. Two years after watching the animated series, you identify yourself with the girl antagonist, and you’re down in the dumps because it’s really true and there isn’t anything in the world you can do about it.
Do you remember the time you graduated, and right on that moment when you were handed the pseudo-diploma, you promised yourself that you won’t become the teacher you hated the most? Guess what. A year later, you’re slowly, gradually becoming that person. And you’re truthfully disgusted.
Do you remember your rants about not growing in the field you’re in, and again, you swore to yourself you’ll do better next time? A month later, you surprise yourself because you’re on the right track. You’ve improved in what you do, you’re studying again, and you’ve gained confidence. Only to recognize that you forgot one thing: while you’re busy with your career, you forget you’re human. You have put aside your formation as an individual.
Too bad this occurred to you a week before you go back to work again after a long vacation. It actually challenges and invites you to a deal with yourself. Right now, all you can do is consider everything, and resolve things sooner. And when you forget things again, you try to remember what happened yesterday, when someone pointed out who you are, and what you have become.
Do not be hard on yourself. Don’t feel remorseful. You’ll do better next time; this is an early celebration.