Awake to Dream

Yipee :)

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YOUNG BLOOD
Awake to dream

By Cey Enriquez
Inquirer
Last updated 11:46pm (Mla time) 12/05/2007

At age 5, I already knew what i wanted. And I worked hard -- sometimes, even behind my parents’ backs -- to get to the goal, which at that time was to join the “Little Ms Philippines” contest on the television program “Eat Bulaga.” I nagged my mom to please, please, let me join. And every year, the default answer was, “Next year, ‘sasali ka’ [you will join it].” That was until I turned 8, and became over-aged.

So I nagged her to let me join the “Lunch Date” version instead, because their cut-off age was 8, and I could still qualify. That’s when she finally told me she didn’t really like the idea of me joining the contest. It broke my heart.

But I wasn’t a kid who just gave up. I wanted to be in a pageant, so I had to be in a pageant. In fact, I have been in more than one. There were times when my mom would suddenly find out that I had already signed up for a neighborhood contest. With the organizers already knocking at our door to confirm my participation, how could she resist? I was never “Little Ms Philippines,” but I have been “Little Ms San Roque,” “Little Ms Barangay Barangka Itaas” -- and almost “Little Ms Sambahayan.”

A part of me says I ought to be embarrassed about all this. After all, these aren’t exactly the things you write on your resumé. But if I were to live out those days again, I don’t think I’d change anything. Come to think of it, I’m not embarrassed by the younger me. Instead, I envy her because she knew what she wanted. She went after her dream, and savored every moment of it.

Until now I can still remember how excited I felt when I was put on a tricycle to parade around the streets, waving at the neighbors as I rode on my makeshift limo. For the talent portion, I donned my Hawaiian skirt and danced to the tune of “Pearly Shells”/ “Tiny Bubbles.” You should’ve seen the way I smiled as I had my picture taken with Romnick and Harlene, or when I saw Jestoni Alarcon and his curly bangs, and, of course, when I was finally crowned as I stood beside “Little Mr. San Roque,” who looked exactly like Randy Santiago’s mini-me (yup, complete with the spiky hair and mole!). As grand prize for one of those pageants, I got P300. No educational plan, no roundtrip ticket to some nice country, no showbiz contract, just that sweet P300. But I didn’t really care about the prize. I was happy just to be there.

It was never about the prize. Well, that may not be entirely true. Of course, I never joined any of those contests without wanting to win, but it was never just about the prize. It was about being there, doing what I wanted to do and knowing that I was living out a dream.

As a child, I understood better what others said about life being a journey to be enjoyed. Now, I find myself trying to re-learn to enjoy the ride, because lately, it seems, the views have started to be the same. Living has become a habit. Like when you’re traveling down the North Luzon Expressway and after you see the first 5-km stretch, you’ve pretty much seen it all. It becomes all about focusing on the clutch, the gas and the occasional braking. Nothing much to enjoy there.

It’s all about getting to the destination, but where it is exactly, I pretty much can’t tell. I may have the broad strokes of a dream -- of making my parents happy, having a great career, having my own house, starting a family with Regi, providing well for our future kids. Generic dreams. Dreams that people my age ought to have. They’re not bad dreams at all. But what I’m missing is something like my 5-year-old “Little Ms Philippines” dream -- funky, exciting, to some extent even defining.

Sadly, I’ve come to realize that I have grown old. I’ve put down the party hat and put on the cynical one. I’ve forgotten how it was like to want something really, really badly. Of not caring about what’s possible and what’s not. Of believing that I can make things happen. Of being free to want and dream of things outside of the usual.

A friend told me that maybe it’s because I already got the things I’ve always wanted. Maybe it’s time to finally be content. But we seem to have been built with this nagging voice inside us, telling us that we ought to be doing more, dreaming of bigger things. I’m not necessarily talking about winning an adult pageant (at this point, that would qualify more as a delusion than a dream), or making more money (which isn’t such a bad dream, because dreams after all, don’t come free), but something along the lines of well, say, making a difference.

If that sounds so heavy and serious, I still can’t imagine myself dying at this age and being greeted at heaven’s gate (hopefully, heaven’s gate!) with the question: “So, Cey, what have you done with your life?” What would I do then, rattle off my resumé? I don’t think God needs a copywriter right now. Would it be enough to say, “Well, I think I have been a good daughter … I think.” Or “I’ve done my best to be a good Filipino. I voted. Look at my finger!” It’s definitely nothing like, “I closed the gaping hole of the ozone layer.” Or “I found an answer to Filipino poverty.” Or “I found a cure for cancer!”

I believe that we’ve all been put in this world with a purpose to fulfill. And each of us have been given gifts as tools -- not merely to survive, but to thrive and to make a difference in each others’ lives. But at 26, I’m not sure I’ve served my purpose well enough.

Bo Sanchez wrote, quoting John Gray, “What you can feel, you can heal.” And thankfully, by writing this, I have come to face the source of my frustrations. Through the years, I have found it easier to just go with the flow of things and wait for whatever life would throw my way. I have spent much of my waking hours merely existing as best as I could that I have forgotten to make time to dream big. There may always be reasons to doubt, but I guess the wonderful thing about dreams is that you can go as far as your thoughts can reach -- beyond the doubts and impossibilities -- with nobody stopping you but yourself.

Now I take it back: I don’t think I’ve grown old, I’ve merely slacked off. Now it’s time for the “Little Ms Philippines” wannabe to get the dream machine back on track. After all, what good would these waking hours be, if they’re not spent living out a big dream?

Cey Enriquez, 26, works in an advertising agency.


Copyright 2007 Inquirer. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

Buying Joy

Probably if somebody were to advertise himself to be selling happiness, he'd be rich by now. After all, what's all these for really? Why do we even get out of bed, get out of our homes, go to work, deal with a whole lot of things we wouldn't even have to come to face with if we chose not to get out of bed in the first place.

Well, that's not entirely true. Because staying in bed would mean having to forego earning some moolah. And having no money entails having to face a whole lot of different issues.

So is it all about earning money then? Of course not. It's about finding joy.
Through money?

Not exactly, but partially. A few chunks more than the other components probably.

So, you get out of bed, do something else so you'd earn some money which would hopefully bring you closer to your joyous goals. Why can't it be as simple as getting out of bed and simply being happy? Some people say that happiness is a state of mind. Readers of the book 'The Secret' believe that 'inner happiness is the fuel of success' But can you have inner happiness without having an external stimuli--which you, of course would have to work for to have? Things that make you happy don't always come falling from the skies or growing from trees. But in some cases they probably do. But if you want more than occasional occurences of joy it's going to take some work. Not exactly having to look for a job, but probably more like finding your purpose. And when you finally find your reason for being, you make sure you're good at it. Then you'll be happy.

Then.

And until then, you go on living your days believing that you can make the most out of it. That you can touch as many lives even in the most mundane ways. That you don't waste any of your ticking moments to just wander the earth unaware of why you're even there in the first place. That you are looking for a purpose and that you will find it. Knowing that there is nobody out there who's selling happiness packed in a bottle; ready for consumption any which time you choose. Because happiness isn't for sale. It's free. If you just choose to believe you're entitled to it.