Zaldy Co’s revelations exploded like a dropped match in a room filled with gasoline, and what did the implicated officials do? They ducked behind technicalities, insisting his statements did not weigh because they were not “under oath.” But with Orly Guteza, who is ready to swear before the heavens and the law about the bags of cash he delivered, they brushed him aside just the same. Their alibis reeked of panic disguised as procedure, and I cannot help but feel disgusted by how shamelessly they insult our intelligence.

Each time a scandal of this magnitude breaks, those caught in its blaze scramble to find the nearest legal fire exit. They pore over the law like students cramming for an exam, except they are not studying to pass—they are learning to escape. It’s a worn-out routine of dodging instead of answering, twisting instead of explaining, and prying loopholes open wide enough for millions—sometimes billions—of stolen pesos to slip through. And the spectacle, for me, is as infuriating as watching a thief calmly lecture the police about procedure while hiding the loot behind his back.

The excuse about Co’s statements “not being under oath” could have been laughable if it weren’t so glaringly manipulative. Everyone knows that when a whistleblower unmasks a racket of this size, the guilty’s first instinct is to discredit the messenger. Strip him of legitimacy, question his credibility, paint him as unstable or unreliable—anything to keep the conversation away from the money trail. And yet, when Guteza stepped forward, offering not just details but the oath they claimed they needed, the same officials suddenly found new reasons to reject him. Their contradiction felt like a slap: they were not after truth, they were after escape.

I’ve always believed that corruption exposes people not just by the money they take but by the stories they tell when cornered. In this scandal, the stories are pathetic. Their arguments limp like overused clichés, the sort of excuses only the excusers themselves can admire. They make it sound as if the problem is the volunteers coming forward, not the officials caught receiving bags of public money. As if the lack of an oath, or the presence of one, somehow erases the stench of wrongdoing already thick in the air. It is this kind of shamelessness that drains whatever trust remains in public institutions.

What’s worse, of course, are the allies who rush to protect them—those who suddenly develop selective blindness and partial deafness. They act like overzealous bodyguards, blocking every witness, silencing every detail, shielding every questionable transaction with legal jargon and smug technicalities. When I watch them speak, I see no genuine defense—only desperation painted over with confidence. Their loyalty is not to truth, not to country, not even to justice; it is to the machinery that keeps them comfortable, funded, and untouchable. And their presence in the halls of power makes me wonder how many more carry similar allegiances masked as public service.

There is a moment, every time I hear these alibis, when I feel a kind of fatigue mixed with bitterness. How many times must this country sit through the same show, performed by different actors but with the same script? I am tired of officials who take pride in their ability to outsmart the justice system rather than serve the people. I’m tired of watching them wiggle out of accountability while ordinary citizens face consequences for far more minor offenses. And I’m tired of the great national lie that claims this country is poor—when in reality it is being bled dry by well-dressed thieves who insist they’re innocent because of some technical clause not met by a witness.

Scandals like this also unmask the moral condition of those in power. Their alibis reveal their character more plainly than any investigation could. They show who runs toward the truth, who runs away from it, who buries it, and who sells it. In moments like this, I cling to the hope that public outrage still counts for something—that somewhere, someone in authority remembers that law exists not to protect criminals in office but to protect the people those criminals betrayed.

The only way forward is not through more technicalities. Still, through courage—courage from investigators, from witnesses, from citizens, and especially from the few good officials left who must resist their peers’ moral decay. This country has been fooled too many times, and the only remedy now is relentless clarity: let the evidence speak, let the corrupt answer, and let the law be used for justice rather than escape.

It’s easy to get caught up in the whirlwind of demands – work deadlines, family obligations, social commitments. The constant pressure can leave us feeling drained, depleted, and resentful. Learning to prioritize ourselves, to protect our energy and maintain healthy boundaries, is crucial for our well-being and overall happiness. This isn’t about selfishness; it’s about self-preservation.

Understanding Your Energy

Before we delve into strategies, let’s understand what we mean by “energy.” This isn’t just physical energy, though that’s certainly a component. It encompasses mental, emotional, and spiritual energy – the overall vitality that fuels our daily lives. When our energy is low, we’re more susceptible to stress, illness, and negative emotions. We become less productive and less able to engage fully in the things we care about.

Identifying your energy drains is the first step. What activities, people, or situations consistently leave you feeling depleted? Is it endless scrolling on social media? Is it attending events you don’t genuinely enjoy? Is it engaging in conversations that leave you feeling drained? Keeping a journal can be incredibly helpful in identifying these patterns. Note how you feel after different activities and interactions. This self-awareness is key to making informed choices about how you spend your time and energy.

Setting and Maintaining Boundaries

Boundaries are the invisible lines we draw to protect ourselves from unwanted intrusions. They define what we’re willing to tolerate and what we’re not. Healthy boundaries are essential for maintaining our energy and well-being. They prevent us from being taken advantage of and allow us to prioritize our needs.

Setting boundaries isn’t always easy. It can feel uncomfortable, especially if we’re accustomed to people-pleasing. However, it’s a crucial skill to develop. Start small. Practice saying “no” to requests that drain your energy or conflict with your priorities. Learn to politely decline invitations you don’t feel up to attending. Communicate your needs clearly and assertively. For example, instead of saying “I’m busy,” try “I’m not available that day, but perhaps we can connect another time.”

Prioritizing Self-Care

Self-care isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity. It’s the intentional act of nurturing our physical, mental, and emotional well-being. This includes activities that replenish our energy and help us feel grounded and centered. These activities will vary from person to person, but some examples include:

– Physical self-care: Exercise, healthy eating, getting enough sleep, spending time in nature.

– Mental self-care: Reading, meditation, journaling, engaging in hobbies, learning something new.

– Emotional self-care: Spending time with loved ones, practicing gratitude, seeking support when needed.

– Spiritual self-care: Connecting with something larger than yourself, through prayer, meditation, or spending time in nature.

Schedule time for self-care activities, just as you would schedule any other important appointment. Treat these activities as non-negotiable. They are essential for maintaining your energy levels and preventing burnout.

Delegation and Saying No

Many of us struggle with the idea of delegating tasks or saying no to requests. We fear appearing incompetent or letting others down. However, learning to delegate and say no is crucial for protecting our energy. It allows us to focus on the tasks that are most important and meaningful to us. If you’re overwhelmed, don’t hesitate to ask for help. Explain your situation and ask if someone can assist you.

Saying no doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. It means you’re prioritizing your well-being. It’s a powerful act of self-respect. Practice saying no with kindness and firmness. You don’t need to justify your decision. A simple “No, thank you,” is often sufficient.

The Power of Intention

Prioritizing yourself is an ongoing process, not a destination. It requires consistent effort and self-awareness. Start by setting clear intentions. What do you want to achieve? What kind of life do you want to create? Once you have a clear vision, you can begin to make choices that align with your priorities. This might involve saying no to certain opportunities, delegating tasks, or scheduling more time for self-care.

Protecting your energy and maintaining boundaries isn’t about being selfish; it’s about being sustainable. It’s about ensuring you have the energy and resources to live a fulfilling and meaningful life. It’s an investment in your well-being, and the rewards are immeasurable. By prioritizing yourself, you’ll not only feel better, but you’ll be better equipped to contribute positively to the lives of others.
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If you have any questions or would like to share your thoughts on the column, feel free to send an email to jca.bblueprint@gmail.com. Looking forward to connecting with you!

Daw tanom, nahuhulog an mga dahon, nabalik man gihapon, nabubuhi, nagpapadayon!

Filipinos are like trees: they may shed their leaves when seasons of hardship arrive, but they never lose their roots. Their strength lies in resilience, their hope in renewal, and their beauty in rising again. Just as trees remind us that life continues after every fall, Filipinos embody the truth that no matter how many times they are tested, they will always stand tall and flourish once more. Just as trees lose their leaves in harsh seasons, Filipinos face storms, floods, and earthquakes that strip away comfort and security.

Outside my window are Pili Trees lined-up, almost identical in size and texture on its leaves and lately, leaves are strewn, piling up, and no matter how we sweep them, they come back each day. And then after a few weeks after that double typhoon, the autumn happening stopped, the trees are there robust and erect, flourishing again. The leaves that feel came in small numbers this time, the pile of brown leaves came in trickles they do not bother me that much, they had given me hope.

Though seasons tear, though tempests rage, Filipinos stand, page after page. Like trees that bloom when rains descend, they rise again, they do not end.

After, the shedding, it may be that the hurt may numb the senses and yet the pain will pass, as it would be.

As Typhoons, Calamities, disillusionment and even loss, we as humans are capable of rising yet living again…

THAT’S from the Book of Revelation. (2,10) As we approach the end of another liturgical year, it’s a message all worthwhile to keep strongly in mind. Christ assures us that everything will be all right despite all the trials, challenges and the other negative elements in our life.

We should just remain faithful to him who will bring everything to completion and perfection. We should just be eternity-ready, willing to leave everything behind, since all these things only have a temporal and relative value. What is of absolute and eternal value is whether we have faith and love for God which is verified in the way we handle with him all the things of our earthly sojourn.

We should therefore develop a sense of the end of our earthly life and the beginning of life hereafter. The end gives us a global picture and sheds light on the present. It guides us. It gives us a sense of confidence and security. It reassures us that we are on the right track, that we are doing well.

The sense of the end motivates us to make plans always, to be thoughtful and anticipative of things. It teaches us also a sense of order and priority. It motivates us to set goals, make schedules and the prudent use of time. Ultimately, it helps us to distinguish between the essential and the non-essential in our life.

A person who does not have a sense of the end is obviously an anomaly. He tends to be lazy and prone to his personal weaknesses, to drift off aimlessly and lose control of his life. Such person is usually called a bum, a tramp or a vagrant.

Since we all somehow pass through this stage, let’s hope that the phase be as short as possible, and that our reaction to it should produce the opposite effect of precisely taking the duty to develop this sense of the end more seriously.

There, of course, are some complicated people who philosophize too much by saying that we can never know the end, and so, they ask how can we develop a sense of the end? This kind of thinking is pure sophistry that can easily be dumped by the mere use of common sense.

It’s true that we may never know everything about the end, but it’s not true that we cannot know enough about the end of anything. That’s why we can only talk about a sense of the end, since it is a dynamic affair that has known and unknown, absolute and relative, constant and changing elements involved.

We are not dealing with mere mathematics and mechanical things alone in this life. There are spiritual and other intangible things involved that necessarily would require us to be continuously open to anything and discerning, flexible and focused.

And so, what we instinctively do in our daily ordinary affairs, we should also do, and, in fact, do it as best that we can, in the ultimate dimensions of our life. Here we have to be guided by our core beliefs that should penetrate beyond the material, temporal and worldly aspects into the realm of the spiritual, eternal and supernatural.

We need to see to it that even as we immerse ourselves as deeply as possible in our earthly affairs, we do not lose our sense of heaven and eternity. In fact, the ideal is that as we go deeper in our temporal affairs, our sense of heaven and eternity should also become sharper.