The Game Plan: To start again from where you last left

The glares of the sun started to crawl from the window, light was escaping from the blue sheets that tried to partition me from the rest of the world. I was in a deep slumber, but the glares continued to creep through to my eyelids no matter how hard I try to keep them shut. A few moments later, I woke up to what I thought would be a fine morning.

As a routine, I immediately grabbed my iPad and checked what ‘news’ is in store for me that day. Nowadays, ‘news’ are more likely to be in the form of instagram post, tweet or a facebook update. But I tapped the mail icon first thing that morning and eventually led me to a series of unread emails.

Dear Mr. Punzalan,

Please find attached a letter from the counselor, communicating the official and final result of your application for the Scholarship.

I have painstakingly prepared myself for this day. And a certain rush of blood has started to warm my face, the rest of my body were shaking and my heart started to pump fast beats. My family and close friends were more excited about this day than I was. Weeks before, they have been earnestly asking updates from me, but I could give none as it was not due for results to be released yet… not until this morning.

I tapped the attached file on that email; the letter looked very surreal, as if it was one of those I have seen in the movies or one of the vlogs you see on Youtube. I once thought those were very superficial, how can it be that nerve wracking I said to myself. But it wasn’t until I experienced it first hand, where all the time and effort you put in finally comes down to one email. It had the logo on the upper left, the date and my name in bold letters above my home address. My eyes took the time to gaze slowly each line as if wanting to avoid to read what was next.

Dear Mr. Punzalan,

Thank you for your application for the Scholarship.

The selection process was very competitive due to the high number of applications received and we only have a limited number of awards available. Unfortunately, your application was unsuccessful.

I have repeatedly re-assured myself that I am prepared for whatever the email will contain. Right after I had my interview weeks before, I tamed myself to accept how my application will be judged. I was self-guarded because they say that the lesser you expect, the lower the fall is. Unfortunately, you can only do so much to guard yourself from human emotions that we hope to shield ourselves from. In my case, the frustration.

I showed the email to my parents who gave me strength in the midst of I, wanting to quit halfway through the application process as it was the most tedious, daunting and costly application I have ever made in my life. But I’ve always believe that if your dreams doesn’t scare you, it’s not big enough, so onwards I go. My family and friends have poured me with utmost support and teeming kindness. My sister even booked me a 5-star hotel accommodation when I had to take one of the exams as one checkbox to the lengthy list of requirements. My friends offered their hand and time to gather my academic records from miles away. My manager at work went out of her way to bid me hours of her ever busy schedule to mentor for my case study and how to stage myself in front of my distinguished panel of interviewers. Albeit I tried to keep it a secret, I have received an overwhelming pour of well wishes and prayers. They knew me too well that this was a dream I have always looked upon – gaining a prestigious master’s degree from a well known international university.

I walked steadily up the stairs, heading back to my room where I was initially poised at; I stared back at the glares from my room window which awoke me that morning. I sat on the edge of my bed and unconsciously, there were drops falling from my eyes though I was feeling and thinking blankly.

I don’t understand where those tears came from; I knew for sure that I have buckled my belt so tight prior to that day.

***

A few weeks ago, I was in cloud nine when I received an email saying that my application, along with my case proposal was shortlisted for the awards across the high competition of applications. I was due for final interview with a set of industry leaders in organisational development.

I carefully weighted my options on what to wear for that interview. I decided to wear something that would speak of who I was. Young, creative but determined. I wore a plaid long sleeved polo in the streaks of blue, red and white, a pair of khaki trousers and wrapped myself up with a blazer.

I was there 20 minutes ahead of my schedule only to find out that the sessions were delayed for not less than an hour. Next to me was a guy who waited for almost the same as I did on that couch. He was dressed sharp and I could tell immediately that his experience was probably twice as mine. I was right. He was a manager for nine years in a health care government agency. He was vying for the same award. How else could I not be intimidated? We had short conversations, bits of chat to help us both be at ease while waiting. You see those movies when they have a frame shot on interviewees waiting for their names to be called on the reception area? That was exactly how it was. We were more friendly than how it’s usually portrayed though.

***

When it was my turn to face the panel, I started with a smile and the smile has kept me company all through out. Our conversations were very smooth and I could say that I threw them a good impression of I, being a young boy with big dreams. My mentor, as I mentioned earlier gave me a premiere view of myself, of reaching for the stars instead of the moon, of being young and thirsty for learning. That was how I was planning to sell myself right there. The forty minute exchange of views and opinions were well tucked. I knew I had it in the bag until that one last question to close the interview. I have have been haunted by the thought of that question a few nights before today and despite my diligent attempt to find an answer, I couldn’t.

I’m not quite sure if that one last question hit me bleeding and if it threw the rest of the thirty nine minutes out the window. Maybe it was that fatal, I suppose.

I remain hopeful still though, that with a paper I projected for a promising cause, I’d make it through.

***

The glares from the window pane have started a descent as the sun was starting to go up high. I remained helpless at the edge of my bed thinking in retrospect all of the money we have spent, of everybody’s efforts to pull strings, of almost three months of working and writing that application and another two months of waiting, skipping weekend fun with my friends all because I need to focus. Most importantly, how much I have invested myself on a dream I share with everyone who believed in me. But this failure is actually wryly imperative to the universal concept of this dream. The dream remains constant, of course, but the failure only explains that the ‘how’ part of reaching for the dream might not be the one defined for me. The dream is still there to be caught, but the failure didn’t stop me from aiming for that dream, if anything, it only rerouted to think of another game plan.

I didn’t see the glass half full instantaneously though. I had my moment of summoning and questioning. “if this wasn’t the game plan designed for me to reach that dream, then why do I have to go too far only to fail when I could have failed earlier in the game already.” It kept me up for a few nights until the answer dawned on me: because I have to understand what the failure was for so I would realise why this game plan wasn’t the right one. Had I failed early in the game, I must have been just sour with failure itself not clearly understanding the rationale behind, but having fought the game until the farthest I could, I saw what the entire game plan was all about and understood why the route wasn’t for me.

That last question in that interview got me terrified about my application and got me doubting myself. The responsibility was just too enormous to handle and just like a typical young man, too much pf my optimism clouded my ability to judge what was realistic and practical. I have question myself if that kind of responsibility was something I was up for.

***

Now I still don’t know which game plan is the one defined for me to reach that dream. But at least I got one in the list crossed out. This isn’t where I stop.