Last year, pondering the state of the world, I told a friend: We must let love be our defiance. We can’t let the blatant lying take root and sprout into cynicism or worse, apathy. We can’t let evil take root by having our anger and resentment grow bigger and harder than our kindness and compassion.
It is not the best photo; we were against the light and no amount of amateur editing could change that. But at least we have it. It’s the only one I have of the two of us together.
Mon was a writer and I was a host for a television game show many, many moons ago. I liked how quiet but funny he was. There was a sensitivity about him that I connected with. When I married and became a mother, I left that world and inhabited a new one. We lost touch. Years later, thanks to Facebook, we found each other again and stayed in touch from time to time.
If there was anything that inspired Mon to connect, it was my writing. He was one of a handful of loyal followers who made sure to write and comment about my posts. He was always encouraging me to write more and wanted me to write a book already!
Mon left the Philippines a long time ago and settled in Australia. He was no longer in the business of creative writing, but he never abandoned it, which is more than I can say for myself. He kept writing poetry and published his own books and I told him how much I admired him for it. He told me to just do it and offered to be my editor.
He reposted my previous blog post and told me how much it touched him. He reminded me for the millionth time that my book was waiting.
A few days later, his niece sent a message asking for prayers as Mon had collapsed at work and was fighting for his life. He lost that fight and I haven’t written since. Each time I opened the blog to write, I saw that post and remembered him and then would abandon the task. That was nine months ago.
But here I am at last, right on time for giving birth to something new (or made new), being brave and starting again. How foolish of me to think that NOT writing was okay. There is no better way to celebrate his life than to keep doing the thing he loved–the thing we both love. There is no better way to start writing again than to honor this human being who wasn’t a constant in my life, but whose creative presence lives in me today.
Salamat, Ramon, for being such an inspiration. Here we go.
My firstborn turned 21 in July. I have an adult son. Every mother before me sagely advised: savour every moment, it goes so quickly. But they did not impart enough urgency. They may have been shellshocked, too, totally sideswiped by the sheer unfathomable speed of it. So here I am, marinating in the understatement. They should have shaken me out of my hunger for solitude, assured me that one day I would have so much of it that I would long for the days of little people claiming every square inch of my space. They should have shackled me to the foot of my children’s beds so I could measure every sprouted inch, count every breath and sigh, wipe every tear, hug, kiss and inhale just a bit longer.
But here we are.
It’s been raining and I am missing my long walks. I managed a quick one before the skies turned gray and opened again. So I ambled back home, filled the air with Bach and enjoyed the rain from my window.
The last few weeks have been crazy where I live. Grave anomalies by our developer were discovered by a resident and everyone is understandably up in arms. I found myself attending endless meetings and marinating in a sea of veiled energies. I have a very powerful and simple technique for self-care so I’ve been taking extra time to practice HeartMath®, listening to music and communing with my plants. I am suddenly so in love with indoor plants and have spent a small fortune in Qach, buying even tiny ones to perch on my study spaces. What I have been missing from my outdoor jaunts, I try to make up for indoors.
I have also started turning my phone, laptop and wi-fi off at 6:30pm–a luxury I know I will have to give up as soon as my boys return from vacation. For now I am enjoying this nightly ritual of freeing myself from screens and their effects. I even resuscitated my vintage CD player and played music from there as I didn’t want to go to my laptop for that.
The world is moving too quickly for me and I have been struggling with my own growing attachment (or is it addiction ?) with screens, but these little tweaks have helped bring me to center again–shutting down and off, bringing heart and mind together, breathing.
I hope your weekend was as simple and lovely.
Learn to tap into your heart’s intelligence, make better decisions, go through your day with authentic composure and still have energy to meet your loved ones from a healthy space at the end of the day !
As both a HeartMath® Certified Coach and Trainer, I can help you bring mind, heart and body into integrity so that you can develop more resilience everyday!
Here are the details:
Resilience Advantage™ Workshop
Date: July 14, Saturday
Time: 9am – 6pm
Venue: Astoria Greenbelt, Pasay Road (2nd floor boardroom)
Rate: Php 6,000 (50% deposit required upon registration)
Early bird Php 5,500 if paid in full by Friday, June 22.
Rate includes lunch, all day coffee and tea, plus an awesome workbook. Your payment is your registration.
For deposit details and other questions, email me at email@example.com. Bring a friend and share the love !
I have been quiet on this front because I have been busy with training for various certifications. I am now both a Conscious Uncoupling coach and a HeartMath™ Certified Coach and Trainer. Yes, I help people have healthy, responsible, respectful breakups (more on that soon) and I also teach techniques that make change possible. This is HeartMath™.
I heard about HeartMath™ many years ago, so when I learned that I could finally train to share it with people, I jumped at the chance. I cannot tell you how transformative this has been for me. I am much healthier physically (more energy, much less fatigue) and I am now able to traverse my emotional landscape with much more objectivity and equanimity. My communication skills are also much improved; I have learned to listen with an open heart, putting aside my judgments, stories and attachment to specific outcomes. People and situations that triggered me just don’t have the same power anymore. I make better decisions, am calmer and rely on the wisdom of my heart to show me the way. Through simple, science-based techniques, I continue to transform and be wonderfully surprised at my results.
I am giving my first full length workshop as a trainer soon and I would love it very much if you could join me so we can explore this wonderful world of transformation and heart intelligence together.
Three weeks ago, I opened my home to interested individuals who wanted to experience Advent consciously. My only requirements : commit to all sessions and come on time. Predictably, there was a fallout. What started out as a group of eight has dwindled to six, but last week we started to feel what can arise when a vessel is kept whole by a group of truly committed people with a shared purpose. This year, we are working with the theme “integrity”. On one level it means showing up consistently and on time, being responsible, being true to your word, and on another it means being upright, gathering all our parts towards wholeness and alignment.
He was a ball of light–this fair-skinned boy of around four, trying to keep pace with a dog that was easily triple his size. I was struck by the pure joy that illuminated him. His hair danced in the sky, his smile covered the universe. He hopped, skipped, ran, and took a slight uphill climb with such ease, like he would never ever have a breath to catch. He moved as if he had never fallen. He knew the wind would carry him safely home. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. This is what it is to trust in the world, to be full of awe and wonder, to have never known heartbreak, sadness or loss. I wanted to wrap that up and send it to every human being on this planet.
Just like that we are at the first week of Advent. Where did all the days go? I can see myself at this very desk last year, in a place where the immediate future seemed crystal clear. Weeks later I was thrown straight into the middle of the unforeseen. It was unexpected, difficult and completely changed the course of my life.
Now here I am again, a deeply changed individual, experiencing this threshold for the umpteenth time but also, it seems, for the first. I carry a wakefulness about the space I am entering. It is dark but not empty. It is full of cosmic possibility. I am meeting the season from a sacred internal space with renewed respect for transitions, deaths and awakenings. We are all there now, in this space of ending a year in our lives, but also marinating in the possibility of what we can create for the next.
I’ve been taking lots of long early morning walks. The neighborhood is quiet, its streets deserted and still a little dark. I am fresh from sleep, unburdened by the stresses of the day. There is only a looking forward, therefore a greater spaciousness for being. As my body begins to move, I notice there is much that arises in the soul–memories, feelings, thoughts that often come from far away places. I welcome them all and often stop, retrace my steps, unsure of whether I had reached the bottom of the street, or passed a favorite tree, lost as I am in my internal world. But the one thing I’m always awake to is sunlight. The minute it starts peeping through the sky, I open to receive. I stand beneath its beams and turn my face upwards to meet its rays. Always, always, I break into a smile. I just can’t help it. My face just does it.