A full-time job vs. a fool’s time job

I recently attended a planning session for one of my clients and during the first part of the conference, we went through an activity that was meant to “break the ice” among the participants. The moderator passed around a roll of toilet paper and each person was asked to pull off a portion. Now, from the portion of the toilet paper that we got, we were asked to rip off each sheet (if you notice, a roll of toilet paper is really composed of square sheets that are divided by perforated lines). Then the moderator said, “For each square sheet that you have, say something about yourself — any fact, any trait, any aspiration, any personal philosophy.” I told myself, “Whew! Good thing I only got a sheet with seven squares!”  Others ripped off a long sheet — so they were forced to tell their life story. 

The participants then stood up one by one, saying something about themselves, one fact at a time, with one square of toilet paper representing one piece of information. Mine was pretty straightforward. “My name’s Rod Nepomuceno, married, a certified lawyer, former news anchor, columnist for The Philippine STAR, currently the head of an ad agency, and, as you may have guessed, a totally confused person.” Those toilet paper facts pretty much represented the story of my life.

Then, there was this guy from KL — whose first name was KL. He said, “I’m KL from KL.” Everyone laughed. Then he said something that really stirred the hearts of everyone there. As he put down one sheet of toilet paper at a time, he said, “I am currently the head of the Malaysia, Indonesia and Philippine operations of my company. I am trying to lead the company to unprecedented growth, and I am working very hard every day. But by the time I am 45, I hope to retire from the company to dedicate my life to charity.” Then he sat down. Everyone was stunned. We were so impressed. This man had a very clear vision of what he wanted to do with his life — dedicate it to others. Here I was, trying to be everything I could be all at once — much ado about everything, trying hard to achieve something big in every field I could get into, fueling my self-centered dreams and totally spaced out — while here was this man who knew perfectly well who he was and where he was headed.   In comparison, my vision seemed limited to continually feeding my ego; whereas KL’s vision was to feed the poor and the hungry. An overwhelming sense of guilt swept over me that day. I said to myself, “There’s something wrong with my life.”

I hate to admit it, but after that session, I realized how selfish I had been my entire life. Sure, I do the usual acts of charity here and there — e.g. I sometimes give to beggars who knock on my car window (just so they will stop tapping on the window), I occasionally give to people who are in need, or I sometimes help out people who ask for my assistance. But that’s about it, really. Most of the time, I do those things because someone came up to me asked for help. But when it comes to proactively helping others, I’ve not done a very good job. For most of my life, I’ve been a fool — spending a lot of time on foolish things. I haven’t really given much thought to what my real full-time job should be: and that is to give myself totally to others.

I can think of a million excuses for failing to dedicate myself to this job called “self-giving.” One is my work. I am employed by a company, and I have a job to do — that is, to make the company some money. If I don’t do my job, I don’t have anything to take home to feed my household. I also have my other “important” endeavors — e.g. I have to watch the news to stay up to date on current events; I have to check my Facebook, my Friendster, my Multiply in order to keep in touch with my friends; I have to check NBA.com to find out how well (or how bad) the Lakers played in their last game; I have to fix my music files to make sure my jazz music collection doesn’t get mixed up with my “Best of the ’80s” catalogue; I have to go to the video store to check if Transformers is already available on DVD; and I have to go to Starbucks to get my daily dose of caffeine. So many things to do, so little time. 

The truth is, I do have the time. There are so many things I spend time on which are totally not important — like go to the appliance store to check out the latest gadget (when in fact, I already have so many gadgets that I hardly use). I am not saying shopping or checking personal websites is wrong. I just feel I (we) spend too much time on them — to the point that we have disregarded the No. 1 full-time job we have: be of service to others. 

There’s a married couple, Susan and Mario, whom I got to know a couple of years ago. Susan and Mario are not like my usual “couple” friends. For one thing, they don’t hang around with my wife and me in the coolest bars in town. They don’t have coffee with us in cafes, or go with us to “Tags” or “Bora.” They’re a couple that has been stuck in one place for the past 11 years — in the National Orthopedic Hospital. Eleven years ago, Mario had a freak accident as he was walking. He fell on his head, and broke his spinal cord. He’s been a quadriplegic ever since.

Mario is an amazing person. Despite what happened to him, he still has a very good disposition. When I do get a chance to visit him, he’s always smiling and cheerful. I’m sure he’s suffering deep inside — but externally, he doesn’t show it. Whenever I see him, I tell myself, “Geez, I whine over any kind of inconvenience, and here’s this man who’s been stuck in the same bed for 11 years — and yet never seems to complain.” But that’s only half of the story. To me, what’s really inspiring is the unwavering, selfless dedication that Susan has for Mario. For the past 11 years, she has been by his bedside. And whenever she’s not by his bedside, she’s in the Senate, the PCSO, the DSWD or whatever government office necessary to scrape together whatever funds she can get to cover the medical expenses of Mario. Eleven years!  Man! Ramos was still our president when this all started — and that seems ages ago.  And yet, that’s how long Mario and Susan have endured this. Day in, and day out, Susan goes about her daily routine with loving dedication — cleaning up Mario, feeding him, keeping him company, going around town looking for some money, and going back again by his bedside to sleep on a plastic chair, while her head is slumped at the foot of Mario’s bed. And that’s on a good day. Some nights, when all the visitors are required to leave the hospital, Susan sleeps in the parking area, exposed to the elements. For 11 years, that is what has kept her busy. For 11 years, this was her full-time job. After 11 years, this is what she has to show for it. And yet, if I compare Susan’s past 11 years with my own, I feel that Susan has accomplished much more than I have. I’m not sure that I could endure what Susan — and Mario — have endured. I’m not sure I’m made of the same stuff. In my book, they are heroes.

When KL mentioned that he wanted to quit the rat race by age 45 and dedicate his life to charity, I was inspired. I was reminded of the selfless dedication of Susan — and many others out there who are dedicating their minds, bodies and souls to benefit others. But I told myself, “Why wait until I am 45? I can start right now. There’s no excuse not to.”

I know that from a practical standpoint it’s not feasible for everyone to quit their respective jobs and serve others. You have to feed yourself first — and the only way to do that is to work. But it’s also worth remembering that while we are engaged in our respective full-time jobs — this is not our only full-time job. We have another full-time job — and that is to proactively serve others, without asking for anything in return. And in our work, we encounter so many occasions to do this — the intern or trainee who constantly asks dumb questions, the janitor who might have a financial problem, the security guard who needs to be acknowledged when he greets you “Good morning.” There are so many selfless acts that we can do. 

But ironically, it starts within ourselves.

* * *

Thanks for all your letters! You may e-mail me at rodhnepo@yahoo.com. By the way, if you want to help Susan and Mario, feel free to e-mail me, and I will tell you how.