Back in college, I thought that by the age of 25, I would be married, enjoying a stable income and sizable savings, and have everything figured out.
But life has a funny way of throwing curveballs and changing the path we’re taking.
I was in my late 20s when I started questioning my life goals. Some probably call it mid-life crisis. I began to feel envious of friends who found their life’s partner, or fulfilled their “dream life.” And yet, here I was, still figuring out if writing is really my calling.
I knew I was writing reasonably well; but through the years of writing for a daily newspaper, I felt stifled for many reasons. And yet I was clinging fearfully to my journalistic job even though it didn’t spark joy anymore. Finally, I left because there was no use sticking around, or there was no more reason to stay.
When I left my previous publishing company, I jumped from one job to another, doing freelance writing and what have you. During those years, I felt like a boat without an anchor and just going with the flow.
Until I joined the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) as a writer for its publicity arm. I sensed a certain stirring within. It felt like I finally found where I should be.
I have a couple of friends who asked if I was content being a project hire, being under a renewable contract without job security. Truth is, I could find a job with better compensation, but if it would make me happy is a different story.
Here, I found a safe place where colleagues support and encourage my paandar, where building cooperation and creating collaboration is the norm, and where one can feel like they belong in a community. A place where I could be me, and where I could let life speak.
Life at CCP is not always rosy, but when you have a strong community working beside you toward a common goal, things become bearable.
As you live life, you realize finding your calling, and creating your own niche, is not a race. Every person has to follow their own path, at their own time, and at their own pace.
But finding your own calling is a commitment. Something that Dr. Tony Ligot, the doctor to the barrio who has been stationed in the sleepy town of Tam-an, Banaue for more than 30 years now, believes in.
In 1988, Dr. Ligot, along with other medical practitioners, joined a medical mission and traveled to Banaue. There, he met the American missionary and general practitioner who established the small remote medical facility. Unfortunately, the founder had to return to his home country and look for a new doctor to head the clinic.
In a community where townsfolks have little to no access to medical aid and would often resort to other alternatives such as faith healing, Dr. Ligot found his calling. He believes that a functional medical facility could spell the difference between survival and death.
Despite the torrent of natural calamities, insufficient funds, and lack of medical staff, the good doctor remains unwavering in his resolve to keep the facility running, eagerly training staff to take over in preparation for his retirement.
“You go to rural areas to serve, not to earn money. For me, it’s worth it because it gives me satisfaction to serve the people,” said Dr. Ligot.
Learn more about Dr. Tony Ligot and his commitment to serving and safeguarding Banaue’s true and most important asset, its people, in the fourth installment of NLEX Humans of the North, a mini-documentary series showcasing the vibrant culture and spirit of the Northern Luzon region through the stories of everyday individuals (https://www.facebook.com/NLEXHumansoftheNorth).
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Another individual I found inspiring is dancer-choreographer Novy Bereber who uses dance to help Filipinos with Parkinson’s Disease find a new purpose in their lives.
After his stint with the Sydney Opera House production of The King and I, with an Australian cast, Bereber decided to semi-retire and shelved his dancing shoes. But life seemed to have a different plan and led him to an announcement about a Dance Teacher Workshop for Parkinson’s Disease posted on the bulletin board of the opera house.
At that time, Bereber had no idea what Parkinson’s was. The only thing that registered to him was the word dance, and he knew that he wanted to do it. Attending the two-week workshop drastically changed his life. He became the first Filipino to teach Dance for PD in Australia.
Believing in the power of dance to heal, Bereber continued to explore his new calling. He flew to New York and underwent training with David Leventhal, founder of Dance for PD.
Later on, he decided to adopt Dance for PD for Asian audiences, and established Bereber Sayaw PD.
“Initially, Sayaw PD is only for people with Parkinson’s disease, but it also involves their carers and loved ones. I react to their reactions and work together with the PD students to create movements that work, movements that the participants will not only enjoy, but they can perform successfully,” shared Bereber.
The Iloilo-based dancer-choreographer, who I met during the CCP Upskilling Workshop where he shared his Sayaw PD program with the participants generously, takes pride and joy in Sayaw PD makes a difference in the lives of the people with Parkinson’s Disease, and how in his little way he could make a big change.