Climbing the Mountain Called Dreams
If you have a dream, be intent, and follow-through.
How many of us achieve what’s on our bucket list?
How many of us take it seriously and not leave it as mere wishful thinking?
How many of us believe that we could make them happen?
It is easy to want things but to make them happen — not so much. As I entered university, I made a bucket list of all the things I wanted to do in the future. One of the items on this list was to study abroad as a teenager. As a teenager — because I figured I wanted to do this not as a graduate or postgraduate student. When I was younger, watching international movies and series with high school or university settings always fascinated me. What is it like to study in such a school? What is the academic system like? How come they take clubs very seriously? So when I turned 18, I told myself, “I have a year left to make this happen. What are you going to do about it, Monique?” I looked out for student exchange opportunities on our university helpdesk and waited for the one that matched my specialization. Most of the partner universities were centers for business and the liberal arts. It didn’t matter as much as to what country it will be as long as the host university offered classes for my degree. At last, the most relevant one came — Tokyo Institute of Technology (Japan).
This was the mountain that I chose to climb.
THE UPHILL CLIMB TO THE SUMMIT
Now, before I flew out of the country — packing forty kilos of my life into a suitcase — the road was not particularly easy. I started applying a year before the actual exchange and to give a preview of the application process, here it goes: (1) home university application, (2) interview by the International Center, (3) selection and nomination among applicants to host university, (4) host university application, (4a) search for an academic supervisor or university laboratory to supervise my research exchange, (4b) rejections and no replies, (4c) getting a supervisor to take me in + interview, (5) student visa processing, (6) dormitory applications, (7) flight to Japan. Throughout this process was an endless pile of documents ranging from application essays, consent forms, recommendation letters, transcript, certificate of good moral, proof of English literacy, study plans, and so on. On top of the academic load are all the legwork and consultations needed to apply and get accepted.
But it wasn’t just that, I was very much aware of the consequences of leaving my home university two years into my program. It would mean that I wouldn’t be able to take my majors and my undergraduate thesis with my batch, I would lose the momentum I had over the past six trimesters, and I would not be graduating with my friends.
It was not that I had no hesitations. I had plenty. I had my anxieties and it certainly didn’t help that there were people who questioned my decision — and it’s not that I had to listen to what they had to say but I couldn’t seem to ignore the things they said. Isn’t that going to delay your graduation? “Yeah, it will,” I smiled and nodded in reply. It already takes almost five years to finish engineering school, why would you like to prolong your stay in the university? You don’t know the language, how are you going to survive? Isn’t it expensive to study and live there? And for an entire year? The questions didn’t stop and I was asked the same things whenever someone new heard of the news. At some point, I apologized to my parents for the financial burden. I sure did not go to med school but here I am about to pierce a big hole in our wallets. I felt too bad that my heart couldn’t contain it anymore.
The thing is, there will always be people who will doubt you and there are those who genuinely worry about you. But, most importantly, there will be people who will root for you and await your return.
I had friends who told me to go for it, who wanted to join me on this exchange, and a friend who did go on an exchange in the same country. My parents, too, had their worries. It was too far from home. We had no friends or relatives in this country. I was going to be alone. They were concerned about my safety. And that, I do understand. However, I still went through the application even without their final approval, and just when I got nominated, I told them about it and they finally agreed. They then reassured me that they will be supporting me on this undertaking of mine.
AT THE SUMMIT
Yes, I felt illiterate when I arrived. No amount of Duolingo and FluentU practice could help me before my departure. I couldn’t read, speak, nor write a single thing. One of my friends taught me how to ask for directions if ever I would get lost, “Shibuya ha doko desu ka?” (Where is Shibuya?) And that was great until I realized, I don’t understand the station officer’s reply at all. Japanese didn’t seem to register inside my head. He was speaking way too fast and I pretended to understand and nod out of respect. It was devastating. All my formative years of education were not very helpful at this point. I got lost way too many times, missed my train and my stops too often, and did not even realize that there were different kinds of them — limited express, express, rapid, and local trains.
To my surprise, I got depressed for the first three months despite having “achieved my goal”. Getting lost once in a while was a fun learning experience, but feeling lost in an emotional sense was puzzling. I had constant battles in my head. I didn’t understand the culture. How do I become friends with my labmates? How do I get them to be comfortable to talk to me? Who will I have lunch with today? They never seemed to invite me to have lunch with them. And the extensive list of worries and questions went on. There were barely any female students and it didn’t help that everywhere I went, the other students seemed to maintain a minimum distance of two meters. Am I the plague or something? It seems like an exaggeration but it’s real. I am not sure if it was because I was a female or if it was because I was a foreigner or both. I found the extreme courtesy very strange and cold at the same time. My struggle to understand why this was did not help me in adjusting.
It was later on that I learned that I did not go there to change things or to let them understand me, I was there so I could be changed — so I could understand. It was not about forcing what’s normal for me on them, but letting myself experience their normal and understand where they were coming from. This mindset helped me ease into my daily life in Japan and broadened my perspective on cultures. I learned to appreciate the context and history of another country more. I not only grew respect for the boundaries of other people but also grew patience in pursuing human connections. Soon, I had Filipino friends who introduced me to more Filipino friends. Then, I later became friends with other international students and my labmates. These people helped me become more comfortable, and whenever I had a difficult time in my research, they were very accommodating to offer me advice or to guide me with my experiments. They might not have come the moment I stepped into this country, but I did meet them at the times when I needed them the most.
There are countless ways for your dreams to go wrong, and when you think hard enough, there will be way too many fears that are all realistic and valid at the same time. So many obstacles could get in your way as you are pursuing your goals. You could get scared and you could get discouraged, but it matters that you stick with it nonetheless. You have to be your greatest motivator, you have to be willing to adapt and change your mindset depending on what could help you best cope with the situation.
Even when I arrived in Japan, I still was not sure if I made the right decision. It cost me time finishing my degree, my time with my friends, holidays with my family, my study habits, my positions in the organizations I was affiliated to, my family’s financial support, and my comfort zone. Will all this be worth the price that I paid for? Did I really have to go to such lengths just to cross this out of my bucket list? I had to keep reminding myself: “There are only two things that can possibly happen, it’s either you make the right decision or you have to make the decision right.”
CLIMBING DOWN FROM THE SUMMIT
It wasn’t until months into my exchange and towards the end of it that I was convinced that I did make the right decision. I wouldn’t have had those adventures and experiences that I had if I stayed in the four corners of my university. I wouldn’t have met such lovely and inspiring people from all over the world if I kept listening to the fears inside my head. I wouldn’t have had the relationships and memories I so cherish now if I kept insisting to just stay in what’s comfortable. Most of all, I wouldn’t have the confidence and perspective that I possess now if not for all those challenges, conversations, and people that I met on my journey. Unexpected experiences — there were a lot of them, both for the good and bad. I could have tried calculating all possibilities and all decisions, but life was and still is abundant with its surprises. One thing I can say, however, is that every moment was indeed priceless, it was one of the best decisions that I have made yet, and I do not regret going for it regardless of what people thought or said and regardless of what it cost me.
We may have the same goals, same desires, and same hopes, but how we deliver — get into motion and put in the work — will be the differentiating factor whether or not we will achieve them.
We could be aiming to become fit and healthy, to become financially stable, to run a business, or to write a book. Having these kinds of goals is not rare, our friends, colleagues, and the people we look up to have them too. They are perceived as good goals as we pursue them to better our well-being, to find assurance, to feel some sort of fulfillment, contentment, or happiness. However, no matter how common it is to hold such goals, they are unique for the value and the work — the ownership — that we put into them. It is then that they become truly ours. Merely wanting or letting it set the direction for us will not get us there. We need to do the work, regardless if it takes ten steps or a hundred. How will we best utilize our resources? How will we take advantage of our realities rather than letting them hinder us? How do we move when our motivation is low, when inspiration is not flowing, and when life intersects our direction and takes us on a detour? With the knowledge that things will inevitably go wrong, how willing are you to own your dreams?
There are still dreams that I can’t seem to fathom. Hearing the sound of them makes me hesitate and laugh at myself for being so ambitious. But I can’t help thinking about them when their seeds have already been planted in my mind and in my heart. It is possible. The fact that I could see it in my head means that it is possible. There are millions of possibilities in the world that I could not even verbalize nor conceptualize inside my head, but this image — this vision — has come to me, it must be a clue to the person that I am capable of becoming.
“The plan that’s in your heart is a documentation of a future that is not yet finished. When you write down a plan, it’s a description of the end of your life, not the beginning of it.”
— Dr. Myles Munroe, “The Principles and Power of Vision”
