Chill! This is the best advice I could give my hyperventilating friend who, overwhelmed by the season, was ready to catch the next flight out of Manila. I listened as she related that she was stuck in traffic all day and had made it to only one appointment “and just barely on time.”
Now in her late 70s, my college buddy has always been a fanatic about punctuality. I think by now she has realized that you can’t schedule your dates back to back. Not at this time of year; and in Manila, not ever.
“I am so stressed,” she moaned. “I will never do that again. One appointment a day is more than anyone can handle. Anything more is physically impossible and too difficult at any age! It takes all the joy out of the holidays!”
I agree. I can tell a couple of horror stories myself. And these happened way before Christmas.
What’s the big deal?
I have often asked myself about the virtues of strict punctuality. My father always emphasized that it was a sign of respect, commitment, a mark of good manners.
Passé?
Has it gone out of style? It used to be a laudable character trait. Is it now passé?
So much has been written about being on time. William Shakespeare believed that “it is better to be three hours too soon than a minute too late.”
It has been called the politeness of kings, the soul of business and also the virtue of the bored. Without a doubt, it shows that you value someone else’s time as much as you value your own.
Someone once said, “If you are 15 minutes early, you are on time. If you are on time, you are late, and if you are late, you didn’t really want to be there.”
Considering our problems with traffic today, I hope that being late does not always convey this message of indifference and gross disrespect.
I know I promised I would never complain about the inevitable. But indulge me.
Little tantrum
Allow me just one little rabieta. That’s a tantrum in Spanish. Please note that the root of the word is rabiar meaning “to rage.”
I was laid up with a stomach virus the last couple of days and had a respite from witnessing the parking lot-like scenarios on the street. I have not been out amid the droves that invade the malls. I was too busy trying to keep my food down.
But I heard how a normal five-minute drive now takes 45. Yes, even in Alabang.
And then, there was my friend who tried to fulfill three appointments in Makati in one morning and was fit to be tied by the end of the day. Her tale of woe was almost amusing and nothing new.
Can anyone follow an agenda at all these days? How much time must you allow to get things done?
Am I imagining it, or are younger people handling the punctuality issue better? They don’t seem half as concerned as the oldies are. The few I have talked to are a lot calmer.
I am told the secret lies in not having such high expectations of what one can accomplish in a given period. My friend’s grandson tells her, “Lola, it’s not the end of the world. If you make it, then that’s good. And if you don’t, just chill. There’s always tomorrow.”
I am thinking: was that for the lola’s sake so she would not stress, or is it really how young ones assess the time situation? My comadre believes they simply don’t care.
One niece tells me her formula. “We give ourselves two hours to get to where we’re going. And if that’s not enough, then, that’s just too bad. We tried. We’re late. It is what it is.”
The expression “fashionably late” is no longer in fashion. Being “tardy” is now part of our lifestyle. Explanations are not expected and the reaction is a shrug saying, “What else is new?” Late entrances have lost their drama.
Because even lower Makati has become impassable, I have changed my routine. For months now I have not traveled beyond Guadalupe except maybe on Sundays. On a good day, I may dare Bonifacio Global City. But I decided to limit my activities to Alabang and its environs. I don’t mind. I like to be closer to home.
The Christmas season can become a trying time of year, but only if you let it. We just got through November and a colleague complains she feels drained, like her batteries are low and she’s running on empty.
Where is the peace?
I often wonder why so many are stressed. Is it just the traffic?
A writer I know claims that there is something in the air we are not naming that is causing our anxiety.
Discontent
“In the middle of all the lights and tinsel I sense an atmosphere of discontent, of pent-up emotions and unexpressed anger. We have questions no one can answer. We don’t sleep nights. We dare not dream.”
He spoke about exhausted souls and broken spirits. Not very Christmasy, I know.
But it reminded me of words by Brooke Hampton, the outspoken author of children’s books.
“No we don’t need more sleep. It’s our souls that are tired, not our bodies. We need nature. We need magic. We need adventure. We need freedom. We need truth. We need stillness. We don’t need more sleep. We need to wake up and live.”
Yes, let’s do that.
