Quarter Life, Part 1

A few weeks back, I was thinking of publishing an entry about the struggles of quarter life.

I always knew what to do with my life and how to do it. I remember creating a road map with a number of milestones, or "pitstops," as I called them, and I have been doing well with the race until everything seemed to start crumbling down.

Things started going astray when I let myself go. You see, I moved to a messed up organization to help in the fixing. I was 22 at that time and was already head of a unit in our department---to the amazement and admiration of everyone, but to no surprise to myself. I knew I had some skill to do it; all I need was proper upskilling and mentoring. I've always had a good understanding of my capabilities.

I was doing well. So well that, in fact, my role expanded very fast. I was assigned to handle Internal Communications after seven months. I started doing major projects for our department head, usually handling audit reviews and automation initiatives. Everyone admired me but for one peculiarity: I was not making friends.

I did go along well with my officemates, but my relationship with them was superficial. I didn't want to get too close to my colleagues. I didn't want to be the incompetent happy-go-lucky's that they are. Knowing how I easily adapt the behaviors of the people around me, I built invisible and imperturbable walls between me and the rest. I was protected, nurtured by the knowledge and belongingness I receive from outside the corporate world.

But everything had to change when I hired somebody for my team. He used to be my intern, and I immediately saw the potential. I kept so close a contact with him that he started reporting to me the day after he graduated from college.

I wanted him to be the employee that I am and I am not. I wanted him to actualize the potential I saw in him, but also wanted him to be close with our colleagues. I wanted him to enjoy that sense of belongingness I do not receive from them. I knew I had to set a good example if I was to make this possible, and so I finally immersed myself with the rest.

Six months later, I found myself lazy, slow and too comfortable. I've become like them, but it's good no one has noticed. Yet.

* * *

I went on a three-day getaway for one of my classes earlier this semester. We study group processes in this subject, and our weekend getaway introduced us to the concept of structured vs. unstructured, of being highly task oriented or leading "executive function" style (among other approaches to group leadership). The weekend had no particular purpose: we were just there to interact.

Understanding unstructuredness was my greatest challenge. I was constantly being asked why I needed to put structure in the group (e.g. setting up itineraries, sticking to our agreed timetables) when we didn't go there for anything specific in the first place. People who had taken this class often described me as an "EF" or Executive Function, and this weekend getaway finally revealed that it meant being highly organized, too meticulous, and extremely methodical. It appeared that being structured and being EF is a development area for people like me.

After returning from the getaway, I came to a resolve to let others take charge, to relinquish control,  to just let things happen without trying to influence the outcome too much.

* * *

I dreaded writing my first ever paper for this semester. More than it being about the three-day getaway that we had, the last time I tried to write, nothing substantial came out.

I would be extremely lucky if I was able to piece together a no-brainer paragraph without having to double check for coherence and grammatical and syntax errors. Ideas do form inside my head, but my fingers simply couldn't translate these into written words. Was it lack of new vocabulary? No new word sticks to my vocabulary despite reading and reading them all over. I'm stuck with just what I already know.

* * *

Learning in itself has become a deliberate concern. You see, when you are enrolled in one of the most competitive graduate schools in the country, there is no room for your mind to slack off. Yet, despite pushing myself so hard, my mind would just not lend the stretch it so willingly gave when I started graduate school three semesters back.

And so, it was apt (and disappointing) to declare that I was no longer learning in graduate school. I was even hugely convinced that I would not survive this semester: three subjects, all heavy, all requiring not just theoretical understanding but more importantly, full blown application. Just last Tuesday, I attempted to facilitate a structured learning exercise that terribly failed. That night, I thought that perhaps applying for a leave of absence is most suitable, despite being just one semester away from my comprehensive exams. I wanted graduated school so much but I was tired, so tired that I could literally feel myself shattering, and I need time to pick up the pieces.

That was until last night.

* * *

I just came out of an 8-hour workshop that two classmates and I facilitated. It was a major requirement for one of our classes this semester, and our professor came to observe.

She congratulated and thanked us profusely after the program. More than a class requirement, it was community service for her: we trained public school teachers from our department's adopted community. The teachers were giving so much positive feedback that our professor is exploring the possibility of having us run it again for a different set of audience.

I felt happy but not as proud. I was teamed up with two trainers by profession, and I was certain they contributed so much more than I did in making the program a huge success.

But then one of them, the more senior one, approached me and highlighted the things that I did well. She loved how I was able to resurface the energy of the group after it dwindled during the module before mine. She loved how I appeared so much like an experienced facilitator despite running a workshop for the first time. She was echoing what my professor said a while back, and I felt so much elated, now sure that I can do all those things I doubted about myself.

Sometimes, all we need is a little validation.

* * *

I had a number of realizations as I packed my stuff after the workshop. I have been exceedingly uncertain these past few months, feeling extremely tired, and I've never felt so down in the 24 years I've been in this world. And all started with one simple mistake: lack of preparation. I was not prepared to let my guard down and accept the idiosyncrasies of my officemates. I was not prepared to be highly unstructured. I was always confident because nothing was unsure, but these past few months, in my attempt to be more unstructured and less EF, I felt so confused and heavily derailed. I no longer recognized myself.

This loss of identity may have what suppressed my ability to write. The art I loved became my greatest predicament---nothing academic nor creative flows out. I have become so accustomed to writing business style that it became all that I knew. It must have seeped the creativity out of the writing process that once made me a highly regarded academic writer and a multi-awarded campus journalist (and perhaps, a controversial NSFW blogger. :p)

I went for the door and hurried to the other building. Another challenge awaits, and this time, I admit that, despite a number of preparations, I still find myself unprepared.

Both of our parents would be there. How do I finally break it off with him?