“So, every day, exercise your heart by taking in life’s little pains and joys — that kind of exercise will make your heart supple, the way a runner makes a muscle supple, so that when it breaks, (and it surely will,) it will break not into a fragment grenade, but into a greater capacity for love.”

I read this excerpt from Parker Palmer’s commencement speech at Naropa University. It beautifully captures a topic I’ve been reading up on this weekend. 

The exercise of love is deliberate. It is not just about whim and fancy nor is it wasteful and careless. It could be frivolous at times if you choose it to be. And wanton and wild if you so desire. But it is a practice of everyday showing up for the other and for one’s self, taking in all the bits and pieces of each other’s being and brokenness. It is about putting your heart out there and opening it to its full capacity knowing that you open it to greater vulnerability. There is no other way towards wholeheartedly loving and living.

Have a loving Sunday everyone! 

Last night I noticed that my son was acting a bit differently. He seemed perplexed. I could feel his heart beating fast when I hugged him to ask what was wrong. He clearly wanted to tell me what was bugging him. But he hesitated and kept quiet. After assuring him that he can trust me and tell me everything, what I got was just silence and quiet tears. 

Part of me wanted to shake it out of him, frustrated that I didn’t know what was happening and consequently not knowing how to help him. It dawned on me however that he is exactly just like me. I keep awfully cold and silent when I am most hurt, to the chagrin of my poor husband. I close off and would rather be on my own. Silence has been and still is my refuge. I seek for it at my saddest and also at my happiest.  

Prodding won’t work. But presence does. So I sat him on my lap and just gently stroked his back until his tears were reduced to mere hiccups. I didn’t know how else to be there for him except what I  knew best, just being there. He never said anything and just went back to play with his dad and sister. I would’ve done the same thing, moving on from where I left off. The apple doesn’t really fall far from the tree:) 

I have very low EQ. So my rule of thumb is not to put myself in situations where I will be tempted. This means not buying chips when I do the grocery, making my most tempting apps harder to access, setting time limits when doing things, etc. I know my tendencies so I’d rather not put myself in a spot where I have to choose. Most likely I will indulge. 

That’s why I’m amazed that my kids have such high EQ and self control. One time we were in a cinema and I gave my kids a bag of popcorn each. As soon as we sat down I asked them why they weren’t opening their snacks. I was obviously excited to eat. My son says “Mom, the movie has not started.” That’s right, there really is a time for everything. I teach them this but they practice it more than I do. 

Apart from self-awareness, what has worked for me is not being too hard on myself. I don’t believe in suppressing entirely because this results to bingeing and feelings of resentment. So in a way it’s a bit of mindful YOLO, if that makes any sense. This means you are fully aware about what you are doing, freely making a choice to satisfy your desire but doing so with clear boundaries and at the same time knowing your threshold and weakness.It takes practice and I struggle everyday. It also takes a genuine groundedness and self-acceptance. And it takes grace. 

Last night’s conversation revolved around risks and rewards/success. Everyone has a different appetite for success. Some take a look at the motivations for their ambition. Others would see this as varying definitions of success, the framing of which shapes every person’s decision. It colors the lens by which we see the world and how we choose to spend our days. 

On the other hand, risk tolerance levels are also relative for every person. What may be risky to one is perfectly safe for another. It may be due to personality, upbringing, experiences and exposure. For the more pragmatic, it’s not about tolerance but a more straightforward and data driven risk-return trade-off. You go with an option  that gives you optimal return relative to the cost of making the decision. 

Seems straightforward but when you combine both appetite for success and risk tolerance, you get all sorts of permutations. I think it will always be a trial and error exercise to find an acceptable mix and this may shift over time depending on context and circumstance. But what is clear to me is that in setting both, you have to define and clarify your personal limits. Setting boundaries will allow us to freely explore the combinations that work best for us. 

I came across this word yesterday. It is one of those words with no direct English translations and means “that feeling you get when you leave a conversation and think of all the things you should have said.” It may be mundane like the witty comeback that you didn’t get to deliver. Or it may be as profound as the feelings you failed to express. Regardless, it comes with a sense of regret.

There are a few things in life that I regret and this is tied to my tendency to detach myself and not actively reach out to people. I think I have improved over the past year but in the past it was automatic for me to build a wall around me and close off when I get hurt. I’d rather keep quiet and not say anything. I would choose to not have any interactions at all if there is threat of getting upset. I’d rather avoid any form of confrontation or unsettling situation. Brene Brown’s book on vulnerability captures this in detail. 

Today I saw a cousin’s post about telling your parents that you love them. She lost her mom yesterday and I could feel the pain emanating from each of the words she chose for that post. This kind of regret is what I am scared of the most and one I am most prone to have. It’s a good thing that I am more mindful now. That’s a start. Starting is the hardest part anyway. 

I’ve always been drawn to wildflowers, those weedy blossoms that grow freely. I love how they are pretty but rough on the edges. Individually they seem dainty and delicate but collectively they are a strong bunch. And it does not take much to grow them. They thrive in extreme conditions, the intensity of their color manifest how much they have weathered. If I were to get married again I would revolve it around the theme of wildflowers. 

In the same way, I am drawn to people who have a certain wildness about them. I like being with the outliers, those at the fringes. I live vicariously through some of them and are inspired by them. Mavens and mavericks, these non-conformists shape my worldview as they constantly challenge what is possible. They show me that I can chart my own path too. That anyone can. 

So just like wildflowers may we live fully, wherever we are strewn. 

I have not written in Filipino for a while. It’s such a beautiful language and it expresses certain emotions that may not be entirely captured by the English language. One such word is “kilig”, that warm fuzzy feeling you get whenever you think about something or someone. Usually associated with romantic feelings or that butterfly-in-your-tummy sensation. Some people use it too to convey a sense of pride after achieving a feat. 

So here’s my everyday version of “kilig”. 

Kilig 

Limanlibong araw na kitang nasisilayan

Karaniwan kung tutuusin                         

Ikaw na panatag at maasahan                  

Katuwang sa araw at gabi.

Nararapat sa akin,                                                

Sa damdaming masalimuot                               

At madalas mabagabag   

 Angkop sa tulad kong tigib ng katanungan.

Marahil nakuha ako sa sulyap                        

Na may munting kulit,                                          

O di kaya’y patuloy na namamangha             

Na ikaw ay tila bata, pilyo’t mabait. 

Basta kinikilig pa rin ako                                     

Sa tuwing nariyan kang        

Umiintindi at nagpaparaya 

Nagbibigay at tumatanggap                         

Nang walang pakundangan, walang pag-aalinlangan.                 

We are being urged as a nation to move on from the hurt that was caused by martial law, now stirred by a sudden hero’s burial of the dictator that was the root of all this hurt. Unsurprisingly, this call was received with anger and ire because of the callous way it was delivered. As if you have no choice but to just forget and move forward. 

But people can’t and should not easily just move on. This is true for this situation and any instance that has caused deep hurt and pain. It is important to feel all the emotions as a way of purging ourselves of the negativity that will hinder us from truly moving on. Fight if we must, express our rage in our own unique ways but let our anger flow. Only then can we heal, after we have calmed down and come to terms with the turmoil of our hearts.

Then we move on. We have lost a part of ourselves and we deal with it everyday. We strive to channel it in the work that we do, in loving the people closest to us more dearly and in trying to make a meaningful mark in this world. So yes, let us move on, in our own way, in our own time. 

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had a conversation about how come after you’ve given something all you’ve got it may not be enough to make things happen, that there are things that are just not within your control. He sounded tired and weary and really felt that he didn’t have much more to give. 

I perfectly understood what he was saying. I’ve been through that before and I had less grace when I was dealing with it. But what I learned is that when you think you have stripped yourself dry and empty and have nothing more to offer you just have to believe that there is so much more to give. Sounds kinda cliche but it’s really about shifting from a place of scarcity to one of abundance. And this is powerful because you will yourself to give more to others, to the world but more importantly to yourself. 

We can give something to the world in so many ways and it’s not just in the work that we do. We can choose to listen more, pay attention more, accept more, etc. And with our own broken selves, we can also do the same- listen more to your heart’s murmurs, pay more attention to how your body feels, accept more that you too have your bad days, etc. 

With this practice, we become the fullness that we seek.Let’s us create this space of abundance around us and share it everyday with the people we hold dear. 

Five years ago I decided to take my running to the next level. Before that I was just concerned about finishing and was unconcerned about target times. In addition, I wanted to shed the stubborn pounds I gained after giving birth to my second child. So I got a gym membership to get better mileage and work on my strength. But I was not really making any substantial progress. 

Then I saw this tiny lady training some people at the gym. Or rather she was ordering them around while they followed her instructions to the letter. This is Charisse and she has been my Pilates trainer for five years. Because of her program I have gotten stronger and faster. But more importantly from her I learned to listen to my body, being very keen to how it feels and moves. I know when I’m misaligned or unbalanced. She also taught me to trust my strength because we have built up my core. 

I still go to her studio every week to get fixed and be reminded about the basic stuff about strength and wellness. I may be doing all sorts of exercises now but I continue to practice the fundamentals that Charisse has taught me. She still gives me a hard time but I think that kind of training works for me. 

I’m always asked what my secret is to running faster times. Charisse is my little secret 🙂