The Will Of The Wind

THE WILL OF THE WIND

I spent half my life, trying to change the way things were;

and half my life, trying to make them stay the same again..

about five years ago, a fellow consultant at First Data Corp. asked me if I had to give up anything when I met my wife. We were having our usual after-lunch round table discussions with a third consultant who was also a Diliman alumnus. I thought about it for a few minutes before I gave my answer. I said, “my window seat”. Both of them stared at me in amazement and I gave a short explanation.

I said, “ever since the first time I travelled to singapore in 1987, I have always had a window seat. I loved gazing out through the window, and just staring far far away, at the view.  And when I met my wife, I wanted her to enjoy it like I did, even though I knew that in the process I would never have that pleasure for myself again. I knew I was willing to give up my seat by the window for her, for the rest of my life”. For me it was a very simple answer. My two fellow consultants were probably waiting to hear something more dramatic or romantic like giving up heaven or earth, or smoking & drinking, or a huge inheritance or turning my back on my family. But since I basically had none of those, and since early on I knew that I was willing to give up everything for her, the most tangible thing I gave up is my spot in the sun, by the window.

And boy did we travel. Each chance we'd get, we'd fly off to somewhere. Where exactly wasn't as important as that we were travelling and doing the things we wanted to do together. So it was hong kong, singapore, bangkok, shanghai, beijing, cebu, boracay, busuanga, petaling jaya, and wherever else our tickets took us. Each trip had its own share of joys, pains, fights, and food trips. And with each one, I willingly sat on seat B instead of seat A.

Now, I have a chance to sit beside the window again. But after contentedly giving it up for 17 years, I don't think I want it anymore. I never wanted it back anyway.

Jesus Paul C. Yan

for The Paul Yan Chronicles

June 30, 5:12 am

sidebar 1

as you very well already know, our condo is up for sale.  The United States of America, which has been the source of most of our bread and butter, has been in recession for nearly two years.  The wellspring has dried up. The Condo has to go, and as soon as possible.  We will need your help.

sidebar 2

about the song.  When I first heard it, this was in the early part of 1994 or thereabouts, I actually got teary eyed.  the first parts of the lyrics summed up the personal crisis I was going through at that time.  My family had just practically lost nearly everything, and the only bright spot on the horizon was that three of us had restarted into promising new careers.  In a year, we were able to pull off a 180degree turnaround.  There was actually another song from the era, titled "You Were There", which also elicited the same teary-eyed reaction each time i'd hear it.  I associated that song with my wife, who I had met fairly recently then, because she was my inspiration through those trying times.  When I wrote this piece 5 weeks ago, I had also just gone through deja vu.  the main difference was that there was absolutely no bright spot on the horizon at all.  No clear options, and no wellspring of resources to pursue anything at all, even self-made options.  It took 5 weeks for me to decide to put this post up, it being so personal and probably not too easy for the context to be picked up.  now it is up.  and the horizon is still as dark as a never-ending storm.