Taken from my personal journal and edited for readability.

I thought for a moment that maybe I’m just selective in my forgiveness, but it was a relief that I’m able to put a name on the thing I most avoid. It’s not forgiveness that I can’t give: it’s reconciliation.

For one, it’s difficult to reconcile with everyone who has done us wrong. In some cases there are toxic and abusive relationships, even manipulative ones, that we avoid to reconnect in the name of self-preservation.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean reaching out and letting them know.

It’s more of a mental transaction. It’s a personal transformation where you stop rehearsing in your head what happened, wish them well and move on. Forgiveness is more for you than the other person.

But forgiveness is not a one-off thing.

Sometimes we relapse back to the loop of negativity. Sometimes people we tend to forgive touch old wounds...

I’ve been consulting this book for 3 years now. It’s not a surprise that I’ll be studying The Book of Changes.

As a syncretist, I started with my Roman Catholic roots, awakened my Christian faith, read the classics, Taoism and eventually settled for Unity (New Thought)… which, ironically, doesn’t make grasping the idea of faith any easier.

In fact, I believe that humans created theology to make the metaphysical nature of faith graspable.

My background aside, the Book of Changes is a natural direction after understanding The Way.

I’ve asked the Oracle many questions throughout the years, from the most profound to the most trivial…

How should I deal with my job and my health?
Should I reconcile with this person?
Give me wisdom on this family matter.
Should I check out or extend my hotel stay?

I consulted the book for almost any dilemma. And if there’s one thing I learned from the...

If there’s one thing I learned this year that I should’ve learned earlier in life, it’s not to hold grudges.

There were people who did me wrong in the past, and I recall each one of them—and how they’ve wronged me—with passion. I’ve been keeping score over the years… and even if I felt that way, it was valid at the moment.

It was valid because I had a voice inside trying to protect me: fear.

Fear is a friend. Fear is there to keep us from harm: from being ridiculed, hurt again, being led into dangerous and unhealthy relationships…

I remember praying to God to keep me away from people I’ve had conflict with. The conflict didn’t have to be something major, sometimes a hurtful remark sprinkled carelessly by people (mostly relatives and my mother) is enough to make me ask for such divine intervention.

“Keep them away, God,” asking to repel them like pests, “for peace of mind.”

Ahh,...

“I am not enough”
“Not enough for who?”
“Not enough in the eyes of others.”
“Their eyes do not dictate your worth.”
— A mental dialogue

I’m now 31 and I’m living my best life.
It hasn’t always been like this.

A feeding bottle in one hand, the laptop mouse in the other. Work-life balance felt like a myth in the midst of the to-do list I had to tackle “now”. At the time, I was lucky to juggle work with a 2-year-old.

See, I got pregnant at 23 and I cranked out websites late nights, even during my third trimester.

A huge part of my mid-20’s were spent people-pleasing and seeking other people’s approval. It’s just a blow to your self-esteem when you’re an unmarried young mom and you just can’t help feeling like you’ve failed the folks.

The old distant relatives.

It hit me differently than with my then-partner. It appeared that men had a greater sense of pride in bearing children...

My brother died last June. We’ve never been so vocal about our feelings. If you’ve seen him, you’ll just know by the way he moves, his slow dragging steps—how he lifts his feet as he walks to his motorcycle or treads through life—that he was depressed.

I can smell the indifference in the bittersweet fragrance of alcohol in his breath. What our father used to smell like as he smothered us with kisses when we were kids was then a lingering smell that reminds me of my brother. It was a signature perfume that fits my brother’s upbeat voice and slow-batting eyes.

That voice I could no longer hear.

I don’t remember ever failing to ask him every time, in a call or Messenger chat, how he’s doing.

We always get the same answer. He says he’s doing well. Same old, same old.

Like the sometimes mindless “I love you’s” and polite greetings, “How are you?” doesn’t do justice as a question to the...

At 25 I had to live the pressure of being an adult. As a young mother and breadwinner, I struggled to keep us afloat as we tried to start our young family in Cebu. To stay and grow old in Cebu has always been my goal, but reality struck so hard back then that I had to consider leaving.

We arrived at my then-partner’s province in Palawan 6 years ago with our two-year-old son with the promise of a much simpler life. A quite remote charming place called Liminancong, with an accessible port to Manila and a slow-paced rhythm just humming in the day-to-day.

We built dreams around the place, purchased items to make a home and settled for what was accessible. When I arrived there electricity was good for only 12 hours a day so we bought a solar kit to get a fan running on a hot day or charge the phone to keep us entertained in the mornings.

A year later the electricity situation improved...

Buddha probably choked on water when it hit him that no matter who you are, you and everyone you love must endure pain and suffering.

It was a dark epiphany he had to come to terms with.

It was an epiphany that, for the many centuries that came after, barely endured mankind’s individual understanding of things, human error and contextomy.

For centuries, a lot of those who followed his path had to inflict, endure and choose suffering whenever they get the chance. It’s like they’re wearing these glasses that give the world this noir-like atmosphere, as opposed to the brighter, rose-tinted variety.

I won’t be saying that my understanding of Buddha’s wisdom is the right one, but like most of the things I encounter in life, I always lean towards the less toxic.

Most of the human suffering– anger, fear, sadness– is rooted in the past or future. We’re wearing this filter that allows us...

An old cliché you’ve probably heard a million times that it’s lost its meaning.

Imagine getting out of the office after finding out that the promotion you’ve been waiting for years wasn’t awarded to you. You feel devastated. On the bus on your way home you are ruminating on how you felt used and replaying those moments of false hopes.

Despite all this, you come home greeted with a surprise from friends and family. It’s your birthday! Colorful confetti, cheerful smiles of excitement and warm hugs…

You felt relieved. Happy, grateful. For a while.

The day ends with you lying on your bed and feeling the negativity linger.

And that’s okay.

You’re genuinely disappointed with everyone, feeling a pain that’s valid and living a reaction that’s completely appropriate.

The point is, it is in our nature to see more of the bad than the good. We are instinctively drawn to give more attention...

I arrived at the Port of Manila in December of 2007. I was 17 years old, alone and without any long term plans. Anything beyond tomorrow is uncertain, so I didn’t bother planning.

It was not my first time in the Superferry 12 but it was my first time to go to Manila on this vessel without a return ticket, let alone the plan of turning back. It will be a year later when I return to Cebu for a quick visit and I’ve never been the same again.

Like many others, I was enchanted by the thought that a change of environment will change my life. It was an opportunity for me to cut ties with toxic relationships that no longer served me and habits that were crippling and unrewarding.

My teenage years weren’t very flattering, I haven’t discovered what I wanted to do with my life yet. All I knew is that I was good with computers and was able to pull off some Photoshop tricks… but I wasn’t...