Mom. Mom. Wife. Daughter. Sister. Sister.

As I approach the golden benchmark and with the pandemic inciting a sudden craving for something more, I thought why not try my hand at writing—literary, not literally.

My mind is ageless—I see my mother in me and my teenage daughter on many days. I also have vivid images of my childhood and dreams of things I still want to accomplish. I hanker for stories – poignant, celebratory, real, invented. I write about love because I have been surrounded by it. This is what I know best. And to be able to retell them in my own words in a published form is my happy ending.

 
 
 
 
 
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tiny thoughts + musings

 

The wind whispers

The whispers then flew

Fallen leaves heard it

My steps carried it through

Then I had it long enough

To know it was you


The world may be harsh, even cruel at times but we can’t be that to ourselves. Don’t allow anyone to break your spirit. Be lenient to yourself, if no one else will.

Shilow said it best, “The world can’t break your heart.”


Lost in the right direction

The forgiveness you would not give may be the reason for your blind spot. One would know the path to the right direction when it starts to feel like a difficult journey. It is, as they say, a narrow road.

To borrow Mahatma Gandhi’s words, “Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”


Like a bottle of good wine that’s nearly done, instead of chugging it straight down to the bottom, it’s more judicious to put the cork back and save for another great celebration.

Always save important conversations to when you’re ready.


Write what feels real

A few had asked if my debut novel is based on my own real-life events. Because it’s written in a narrative voice of a Filipino-American, it can easily be assumed as a “fictional memoir.” Although this is 💯 fiction, the emotions, the circumstances, and the conflicts represent crossroads in life which I may have avoided, or struggles I may have witnessed closely. The characters are invented but familiar. The moments are poignant but they don’t speak about my own pain. They belong to someone else. The story is celebratory but I can’t claim it as my own triumph. There’s no denying that most of us have navigated through these kinds of path—moving forward from the past to embrace the present; learning to forgive self in order to forgive others; taking a chance at new beginnings and second chances. Like I said, It’s REAL fiction. 


Self-care

I had to search up self-care because, I suppose, I have not been practicing this as much as required. It says that self-care can be simply staying at home—well, who hasn’t been doing this? There are a few that came with the list but I want to focus on two things for now. Easily, I put off “putting yourself first” because for as long as my kids need me, regardless at what age, I just can’t do this. Perhaps for two hours whenever they want to watch superhero movies or crude comedy while I insist on romance or drama. My little victories!

Asking for what you need. I just concluded a super intensive day-job-related online course. Before it started, I told my husband that I was expecting a nice cup of coffee served to me. Because the class started at six, I simply didn’t have the time in the morning. Now that it’s over and I’m back at making my own cup of coffee, I realize it’s a treat I kinda miss receiving—but let’s save this goal for another discussion. The point is I am grateful for this trivial act of pampering. Okay, not trivial. It’s not at all insignificant to me. Self-care is all about feeling good which I got with every cup served—despite a little sweeter than preferred. Because it’s tacky to criticize gifts, let me get to the second prompt.

Taking a step back. Now that the post-composition task for my debut novel is complete, I should take a step back even for few weeks just to recharge. I know as I get closer to my pub date, I would be at the edge of my seat biting my nails and constantly torn between I wish I had more time to make it perfect and I want this to be over soon. For now, I should always remind myself that the passage is just as meaningful as the journey’s end. And that I should measure my success in knowing I discovered what I’m capable of—this is enough for me. Shouldn’t matter if it’s enough for others.


He started with nothing but courage to climb” - Edgar A. Guest

Most immigrants embarking on a new life carry nothing with them except an overpacked suitcase of practical clothes, life savings in foreign currency that’ll probably be worth a couple months of rent, and an enduring memory of a culture, of an old self. What sets them apart from the throngs of stragglers is their courage born out of determination, out of desperation. More than the technical knowledge, or education and work credentials, it will be the soft skills—integrity, adaptability, tenacity—that could bring them to their desired vision; to finally be on the greener side of the field. But how do you measure success? When the journey starts to feel like a worthwhile ride? Or when the heartbreak of separation from the family and friends ease up? Or perhaps when you’re no longer marginalized.


Musings of a Mom

I stopped being surprised by how teenagers think, or how they define fun. Disclaimer, this is a little gross so please quit reading if you’re eating, or sensitive to somewhat reprehensible but outrageously funny frolics.

And so I learned, to which I’m probably a few years lagging behind here, that there is an app called poop map that lets you “pin and track” where one “made a drop.” Although I’m assuming most people use this to stay connected to friends, the idea is silly, even baffling. Why do people find this a worthy activity? Why is this rated 4.7 out of 5? Or why is this even a platform! I won’t even go into details on the kind of comments people share when they post a drop. They are funny if you ask my daughter, ridiculous if you ask me.

Staying connected is so important as we all learned a year ago, in the harshest and saddest way—or even before then but we didn’t say this out loud. Everyone craves for social connection regardless of age. Everyone needs it notwithstanding the emotional state. When the world first saw how a wristwatch could transmit messages, most of us secretly wished to get one, not because we wanted to be a double-0-seven ourselves (perhaps some of you did but not me as I’m lame this way); it was more for our need to be able to communicate at any given time or circumstance. That’s why social media eats up a good portion of our day. That’s why we fix ourselves, at least from neck up, even when working from home so we are zoom-ready. That’s why we have these platforms that allow us to share things—from our #tinythoughts to how we style our #scrunchies, or what’s #cookingtonight, the #caloriesburned, the distance we #runforfun, the surprises inside the box when the #mailarrived, the gorgeous #flowers and #blooms that make our day, and yes, the places where unapologetic people take a dump.