Making time

Time is fixed. We may gain an extra day in February every four years, but there is nothing more finite than time. In 60 seconds a minute will pass; in 60 minutes, an hour; in 24 hours, a day.

Despite all the time-saving gadgets and mechanisms we have — from the smartphone that enables you to send messages and documents via e-mail in seconds, to the microwave oven that allows you to defrost in minutes, we often find ourselves still pressed for time. But where did all the time we saved go? Is there an imaginary time bank where we can deposit time saved and from which we can withdraw later, with interest, when we’re pressed for time? Can we loan time from past savings? Alas, there is no bank that I know of with this service.

We save time, but we take on more tasks that use time, and so we’re back to a deficit. We lose time we cannot afford to waste when we’re at a standstill on the road — but we’re also on the road because we have time to spend. Multiply all these people with a task and a destination (and traffic mismanagement) and you have a time-draining gridlock.

So what to do when the globe continues to spin and the “ever-spinning wheel” takes up a second of your time incessantly?

* * *

You make time. You carve time out of the seconds and minutes that pass you by.  Just think: what happened to the time you saved with electronic banking, which spared you from queuing up to pay your bills at the bank? What happened to the time you saved when someone texted you not to take EDSA to Quezon City and you took C-5, which was a breeze? Did you kill time instead with your extra time?

“Killing” time is forgivable when it allows you to chill and de-stress. This is when “killing” time buys you a longer life. But it becomes a crime when you end up stressed because you’re beating a deadline — or running late for a trans-continental flight. Your blood pressure shoots up, you hyperventilate, and sometimes, you lose the chance of a lifetime by not showing up on time.

But aside from missing planes and dinner dates, not having enough time means losing out on family time, travel time, time with friends, time to serve a purpose greater than yourself.

Blessed with a fulfilling job and given opportunities to make the most of God-given talents, I poured much of my time these past couple of years  into work-related pursuits. With our only child now an adult, there are no more homework tutorials, PTA meetings and visits to the pediatrician to attend to. Truth be told, that meant freeing a lot of time from obligations. A lot of time saved, carved out from oblivion and shaped into a ball for me to fashion into whatever I decided.

And yet there were many times when I still missed out on two essentials: bonding with friends, especially friends from school, and advocacy work.

The STAR president and CEO Miguel Belmonte, despite his extremely busy schedule, finds time to go with his wife Milette to typhoon-ravaged provinces to do relief and humanitarian work as part of The STAR’s Operation Damayan. They go for several days, more than once a year.

I have classmates from Assumption who team up informally and hold soup kitchens in calamity areas — they cook the lugaw themselves.

When my batchmate Liza Tomacruz Latinazo (we belonged to the same graduating high school class, but were from different sections) was battling late-stage cancer, she always had a classmate or a batchmate by her side. They took pilgrimages together to Taal, to Manaoag. They would go to Divisoria and ogle the goods being sold there. They would hold prayer meetings and go on retreats. I wasn’t around for her during this time, and even if I can truly say I was there in spirit, I missed out on the sisterhood.

In the final days of Liza’s life, her classmates were by her bedside, praying with her, cheering her up, holding her hand, caring for her like a nurse and a family member would. During her wake, the outpouring of love — not just for Liza and her family, but for each and every batchmate present — was so palpable, so audible, so real. These girls were always there for Liza and for each other. And I vowed that I would not exclude myself from this circle of support because it was such a strong bond — an emotional lifesaver, if you will, in the sea of life.

Yes, I will make time.

* * *

Then came a message from my “mentor” Marlu Villanueva Balmaceda of SGV. When she was the editor of our high school paper Facets, I was the assistant editor. She also recruited me to join the STAR! Monthly magazine three decades ago and introduced me to its publisher Isaac Belmonte, and its editor, Betty Go-Belmonte.

Marlu’s message: Please reconsider joining the board of the Assumption Alumnae Association (AAA), which involves alumnae in various meaningful activities and advocacies.

“It will be very exciting,” Marlu promised, “as we prepare for the AAA’s 50th anniversary and our founder St. Marie Eugenie’s 200th birthday.  It’s such a wonderful channel to keep connected to our beloved school!”

In 30 minutes, I said yes. I will make time — time to both give back and pay it forward. I will start with the alumnae association of my alma mater, which I owe for much of what I am now. 

I didn’t realize I would be submitting myself to an election, at which seven seats would be filled up. I was afraid to run because I was afraid to lose.

Well, I made it. To those who made time to write my name on the ballot — and even for those who didn’t — I will make time.

Ultimately, making time for others is making time for yourself. (You may e-mail me at [email protected].)