Getting Lost and Recovering
7 years. It’s the longest serious commitment I’ve ever had in my life. Working in an ad agency isn’t a stroll in the park. You have long hours, you have precious time away from your family and friends, you get anxieties, and emotions can be crazy. But you don’t mind, it’s what you wanted. It’s what I wanted. I wouldn’t last 13 years in an industry if I didn’t like it.
Recently, however, I felt different. I frequently went on trips. I dragged myself to work every morning. I cursed at it before I got on the motorbike in the morning. I dreaded it. And then, the pain. For three weeks, I had this unexplainable pain. It ran through my neck, radiated to my head, and went down to my upper back.
I told no one about it at first then I took some painkillers. It worked for a while. It would come back the next day. It was paralyzing pain.
I told three friends about it. Two of them recommended that I go have it checked. Maybe it’s the way I slept or my bag was too heavy. No, it wasn’t. The doctor ran some tests on me. Everything was okay. He then proceeded to asking me about my lifestyle. There he pinpointed that I was simply burnt out. He offered me two choices. Quit what was causing it aka my job or take in more medication.
I didn’t want any of it. Both weren’t good options. I needed that job. I didn’t want to take any more pills.
Like some weird twist of fate or coincidence, my good friend, Xavier, chatted me. He invited me to ride out of town with his big bike riding friends to this place in the Philippines called Baler. I’ve seen photos and heard of it especially from my surfer friends. I started learning how to surf when I went to Siargao. Without batting an eyelash, I took the chance.
It was 6 hours on the road, shifting from 120kph to 140kph on the long expressways. Stopping every 2 hours to rest our aching butts.
When we got there, I immediately loved the town. It was laidback and chill. It had progressed over the years but it still had its simple, provincial charm. Some locals knew my friend as he used to surf there a lot. Hooray for new friends! The beach had no reefs. No worry of hurting yourself when you get wiped out. We were even lucky there were waves.
The boys talked of motorcycles all day and night. I didn’t mind. I understood what they were talking about. But I was absolutely glad to be there. There’s nothing like good company when you’re trying to heal. We were also invited to hangout at another friend’s farm lot. Laughter, beer, motorcycle talk, jokes - priceless.
Back at the beach, there’s nothing like running to the water like a child. Then, the big waves come in. Crashing at you one after the other. You have to duck dive into the water or else you’ll know what your clothes feel inside the washing machine. I have no pictures. Only memories of what the water looked like, the feeling of diving under, and being stoked as you stand once again in chest-high water. And then, I went surfing. After an hour, my body wanted to rest. We ate a hearty meal at the cantina. Drank water then drank beer. Perfect!
As usual, I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to go back to a job that’s starting to affect my health. But I had to. It was a short trip but it was awesome. It was my reset button.
I’m thankful that Xavier asked me to join him and the boys. I couldn’t ask for a better way to cure myself. All I needed was the sea, waves, the sun, good company, laughter, some beer, and time away.