recognition

growing up i used to watch other kids with envy as they bend their backs over, dropping back effortlessly on their hands and doing other cool tricks like splitting in the air. so when i discovered yoga four years ago, it was only natural that i zeroed in on my flexibility. it wasn't an easy task but getting there was a colorful ride. i learned to stretch and twist in ways i've never thought possible for me. i started out with my fingers barely touching my toes in paschimothanasana (seated forward bend). now after three years of reaching i can finally bring my chest to my thighs AND have my fingers securely wrapped around my feet.

however i soon learn that flexibility is one thing and strength is another. on this path i've chosen to take, i realized i needed to build my strength too. while i've seen progress through practice, it is only in these first four days of anusara workshop that i'm truly beginning to understand how to build my own strength by remembering my power first. that i work from inside out. as my teacher talks about today's theme, power of self, i recognize that i had given mine away. whenever i acknowledged pain in my body i had turned it into a self-limiting obstacle that prevented me to go deeper into the pose. anusara is teaching me to take that power back and as i do, through my teachers' guidance, i feel my back strengthening. with my back strong, these rounded shoulders which have caused me pain time and again begin to open. i feel my heart lifting and a surge of ecstatic defiance overwhelms and humbles me. the realization that i have crossed my own personal boundary moves me to tears and empowers me all at once. as i bend backwards, i open myself to a million beautiful possibilities.

it comes to me how boundless we really are. i'm reminded how each limitation is self-inflicted and as we go through the beautiful process of transformation, we go back to remembering who we are. i bask in the warmth of this recognition. lying in savasana with the sublime kirtan music in the air, i realize i don't need to float far away to look for my happy place. i've found it here, on the mat, within the person i've become.

the search

there are days that seem more beautiful than others. when mornings begin with yoga and ease into afternoons surfing on the beach. but it's been weeks when the days have fallen into this pattern. it's a strange monsoon that has brought waves on the island. surfing until the skies turn pink has become an almost natural thing. it's quite hard to beat the high you get from your very own backyard. then the feeling of coming home to a house filled with great friends preparing a home-cooked meal is priceless; sharing a conversation under a full moonlit sky or a bottle of wine on a rainy night. this has become my life. how long ago was it when i felt so lost while dreaming and searching for la dolce vita? when i thought i could find it if i could only get away from here (here being the philippines). that time in my life seems far away now yet never too distant to stop me from remembering. a line i've read many times before comes to mind. "it is always ourselves we find in the search".

i am thankful that i can still see it clearly. that each detail from all my yesterdays is a vivid reminder of the journey that has brought me to where i am today, blissfully living what i've sought so hard to find. carrying it with me wherever i go. finding it here especially, on this island i call home. my own personal dolce vita.

suddenly now, I know where I belong

bonjour paris.

arrived a few minutes ago, checked in our little hotel on Rue Cambon, right next to Chanel's first boutique! skipped and hopped and danced my way around this precious room. a tiny space with pink flowers outside my huge french windows overlooking the street. my smile is a mile wide since stepping out of the train station. i am assaulted by everything french: street signs, cafes, french windows, french doors, french men!

it's like love at first sight all over again. oh it is good to be back.




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Now playing: Ben Gibbard & Feist - Train Song
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let me take you down

i am loving london at night. it's a heady mix of ancient and modern europe. rows of victorian and edwardian buildings, big grassy parks and silent black statues glow dimly against the city's hushed yellow lights, like secrets from a remembered past. there is a sense of quiet ownership that can be felt as londoners walk their streets. roads are congested like any other cosmopolitan area, however with black hackney carriages that reflect the city's endless tribute to tradition. the pubs live on and music is given a huge venue to showcase true artistic freedom with an audience to match. the next big thing is born here. indie rock bands and folk singers perform in basements with the same underlying confidence that is reflected in brilliant song writing. while the stages in broadway have gone bigger and flashier, london has chosen to keep its small and cramped theatres, some dating at least a hundred years old. even neon signs don't seem too glaring against brick masonry walls. it is a delicate balance not every place with as much history can easily achieve. as i witness this nocturnal flow of life, i get the message that london isn't for everyone. you don't choose the city, it chooses you. on the surface it's clearly not a place that an island girl like myself would choose to live in. yet i find myself drawn to its mystery. to the grayness punctuated with short episodes of sunshine, to its dry humour, its lack of outstanding local cuisine and wealth of international dining places, and to the percentage of the population that can do smart and funny as only the british can. and for a moment, i find myself wondering, considering maybe i can live here, even for a little while.

then the wind starts to get ice-cold and it snaps me out of my reverie. blimey, it's that irresistible british accent that's to blame for all this daydreaming.



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Now playing: The Beatles - Strawberry Fields Forever
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another rainy day

the wind howls as i write.

i woke up at 5:30 this morning to the sound of shrieking babies, or so i thought. it was the wind, blowing through rooftops and coconut trees, having a field day with the torrential rain. i tried to go back to sleep but the noises have invaded the space under my covers. alone in the dark with no one to find comfort with, i began to feel scared. the memory of that terrifying typhoon that ravaged the island from 2 years ago was far too fresh on my mind. in an effort to do something about it i began packing things into my waterproof satchel: money, a yellow sarong, a change of clothes, house keys, a jacket and an ipod. i started to wonder about food, realizing i have nothing but fresh items in my fridge. i can't even remember the last time i ate something out of a can. i look around and i see all the other things i thought i should bring: books, my laptop, my journals, dresses i haven't worn, a towel and so many other random stuff. in my effort to live simply, i had still managed to become such a consumer. knowing what i've always known, there really is nothing much you can bring with you when push comes to shove. in the end i threw in my phone charger and flashlight, knowing that these too wouldn't last me for long.

i decide to make myself breakfast. it's 7:30 am after all. i had been awake for two hours. while munching on buttered raisin toast and looking at the rain through my glass windows, i find myself listening to the local radio station; to its barrage of provincial ads, catchy radio jingles as only a small town station can and a string of announcements in an attempted american english twang. then comes the disc jockey, armed with his usual self-assured humor, bursting through the rain like a dose of unconventional sunshine. the jokes are bad and a tad mean, but i find myself laughing my stormy heart out. it is relief that washes over me. relief that in spite of gloomy skies and howling winds, someone is going about his day as usual and not packing an impromptu emergency bag. relief that pushes away thoughts converting back to canned food and raiding the shelves of the nearest supermarket. because it is such a relief to be reminded that even in the midst of a raging storm, life goes on.


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Now playing: A. R. Rahman & Suzanne - Latika's Theme
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wear some flowers in your hair

i did not leave my heart in san francisco...




but now and then, i find myself thinking of it.

through the looking glass

it's been raining these last two days. i look past my glass window and stare at the grass, how green it's become. the wind blows and i stand sheltered inside my home. i see myself and this life i've built, how strange it feels to be momentarily away from it.

i used to spend more hours outside. where my feet can draw circles in the sand while my skin grows damp from the cold habagat wind.

i do not forget that i am here, on this island where i've come to know myself again. and yet is there something else that i'm missing? i keep staring through the glass and i wonder.

the grass spreads itself slowly in the garden where i refused to plant anything but herbs and vegetables. i see the wet earth, it's brownness gleaming from the rain. and i'm transported to a place and time i don't know where, don't know when. but it feels familiar, like a dream i can't seem to remember.

endless summer

yesterday we had the most wonderful photo shoot for the beachbaby. the sun shone, the rains came, there was laughter all around & the day ended with an amazing sunset on an almost deserted beach. it may soon be monsoon season, but for us beachbabies, summer lives on.

belonging

the funny thing about being home after traveling is how quickly every place else seems to be worlds away. how even the last destination fades quickly into motion, like a photographic blur. there is something disconcerting about knowing how the last place where you walked talked and lived only days before, could go on perfectly without you.

i have gone through all sorts of emotions while traveling. from the euphoric sense of being lost; the quiet peace that stems from knowing you are exactly where you're meant to be; to the momentary sense of alienation that disintegrates when you discover a strange familiarity in your new surroundings. but a new kind of emotion came to surface while i was traveling across north america. i found myself looking to belong.

i have always kept the wonder in me. it's what makes me see the world as i do. wherever i am, i know home is eventually a place i carry within. and so it comes to amaze me how on one wintery afternoon, i find myself taking this home right out of my heart and into my hands, wanting to place it down on solid ground.

it may be the fact that i have left my island exactly a year ago to go on a journey that required me to travel outside and within. while i haven't known any other place that has captured me intimately & immensely as this island has, i realize i am ready to sail on and leave its shores.

in all this wandering, i recognize elements of myself even in the most unfamiliar places. i pick them up one by one, as if puzzle pieces collected from my travels and because of this, i come back with a better picture of who i am.

the heart of a nomad. this tells me that i may never belong in one place. but as long as i know my self, then i'll never lose my way again.



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Now playing: Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson - Winter Song
via FoxyTunes

a very long engagement

what the heart imagines, life conjures. it is when pain does not numb the will to go on, nor kills the fire that burns in the coldest of nights. the inexplicable urge to hold on to something that keeps you alive even in its absence.

to find thyself is a very long engagement. to find the other half longer still. almost like memories that repeat itself through lifetimes, you see pieces of you in another and experience fleeting moments of perfection. isn't this what we all aim for? when we can finally be still, after running and walking and flying, have that one thing we were glad we fought for, see it through the light of the day and the dark of the night.


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Now playing: José González - Heartbeats
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unraveling

when big questions like "who am i", "what do i really want" surface, once in a while we come up with all these little answers that we're not sure what to make of. sometimes the heart whispers so gently we tend to not listen, completely ignoring the truths that come in small packages. but if we look at it like a treasure map, these little answers may very well be clues that lead us to the prize. after all, isn't life one big scavenger hunt? we get to the big answers when we start following the small ones. sometimes we need to get to the little treasures first.

i have learned to listen to these tiny voices in me. they have led me to the right places. and yet there are moments when i still find myself in the dark. when my fingers fail to trace the lines that should lead me to where i long to be. fear gets in the way and clouds my line of view. it reduces my heart's whispers to a blur. then i begin to see a familiar patch of sadness that spreads itself like butter over me. it is baffling how easy i yield to it sometimes, forgetting how far i've come. but faith steps in the most unexpected moments. in the form of a teacher, a stranger, a friend. or a page from a book. like a match that strikes a light inside us, we begin to see more clearly and we start to find our way once again.

yet i alone must decide what is best for me. i know this to be true. because even with my eyes closed i know where the lines lead to and i need to fulfill the irony that seems to inflict itself on everyone. how we all travel far and wide, scavenge and hunt in all the strange corners of this world, only to come back to the place within where the big answers reside. with my own hands i'll unravel myself, untie the threads that has kept my truths bound. and with one fine swift motion, set them free.


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Now playing: The Weepies - All That I Want
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once i was a flower child

i like walking in this neighbourhood. although there's little left from the summer of love, haight continues to breed and attract modern day hippies. it's easy to pass time when the street is filled with cafes, shops, music knick knacks & vintage stores. and speaking of vintage, i scored an electric blue cocktail dress from Wasteland for $16. how cool is that.

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Now playing: The Cure - Just Like Heaven
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we all have lists

a things-to-do-before-i-die list. a bucket list. blacklist. bluelist. well i have my own list when traveling to a different country. my top 3 travel musts where most, if not all, of my memorable and fascinating experiences stem from.

number 1. meet the people
number 2. taste the food
number 3. go to the supermarket

a colorful interaction with the locals say so much about the country i'm visiting. it is the people that make the place after all. street chow or a plate of fancy cuisine, more than the usual tourist attractions, reflect the country's unique culture and history. but a trip to the supermarket gives a peek to the everyday life that's almost hidden from the average traveler. the ordinariness that is normally overlooked when one is too focused on the places-i-have-to-see-in-this-country list. and so wherever my feet have taken me, from the prosciutto filled shops of italy to the spice scented stores of india, i have gladly indulged myself to these visits.

one sunny afternoon, somewhere in south san francisco, my happy feet took a stroll down to the grocery store. as soon as i stepped inside trader joe's, it was love at first visit.

if you haven't been inside any trader joe's, well let me tell you, almost everything inside is oozing with healthy goodness. organic ice cream to low sodium potato chips to strawberry yogurt covered cereals. and yes they taste really good.

i can spend hours walking down the aisles while i marvel at the assortment cheese and chocolates. in a land where everything is super-sized, here is a breath of fresh air. trader joe's has become my happy place.

as if that weren't enough, they make the cutest bags. as i've done the past 4 years, i brought my own. but since i shopped more than necessary, i was more than happy to purchase another one.

now excuse me as i prepare tonight's dinner ~ shrimp in thai red curry sauce and soyaki mixed vegetables.

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Now playing: Modern English - I Melt With You
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on the road again

three weeks of travel. four more to go. stories to tell. but for now, i'll let the pictures do the talking.

it dawns on me

it's not that i don't like the city. there are plenty of things to love about it. like street corners and old buildings. museums and ice cream parlours. neon lights and empty streets in the dead of the night. but not this city. try as i might to work out reasons to belong, i feel lost at the end of the day.

i miss my island and yet i don't feel the urge to go running back in order to belong. it is this strange feeling which fascinates & comforts me, knowing i have found home at last. but being here, in this city, i feel a displacement of sorts. there are people here that i truly love and yet there is nothing here for my soul.

is this what it means to have the heart of a nomad?

the kindness of strangers

is an odd, baffling and heartwarming thing. it is also something i have not felt in recent weeks. i must be getting spoiled. it's a strange feeling to miss.

i am half asleep as i think this, half awake as i write. but i am getting off the bed for a quick minute as i remember that glorious fish masala in the pot. that certainly needs to be put in the fridge for further consumption.

the moon is halfway across the indigo sky. and here i am still thinking about food.

when in manila

leave.

i have always felt that manila's this huge airport terminal. like i'm forever in transit when i'm in this city, wordlessly seeing other travelers pass me by as i wait for the next journey. so it's no big surprise that in 3 whole weeks (3 days were spent in la union/5 days in hk/another 3 days in la union) i was actually out if it half the time. though i have grown from tolerating to liking it (and even enjoying certain parts of it), how can i, a natural born beachbaby, say no to, well, the beach.

so off to la union we went where the waves beckoned.

top to bottom: LOVE my rvca boardshorts; wave watching; surf happy; clockwise: after the surf; the making of a big bad bruise; an attempt to mimic the gangsta surfer; surfmaid's "garage"

though i brought my waterproof cam that weekend, there were none of those photos of us surfing. why? because everyone was in the water surfing their brains out.

what better way to end this surf trip than riding off into the sunset.

i've got mail

look what arrived in the mail today.

my la pomme goodies from provence! finally after two weeks i rip this much awaited package open & out comes the most heavenly of scents. christmas has come early!

out comes my sleep angels, lavender scented dream dolls filled with this season's crop of sweet-smelling dried lavender flowers from Provence.

and my bilingual cloves, linen ornaments stuffed with cloves & star anise, with customized words love, truth and light. in english and in french.

as if these weren't enough, apol (la pomme creator) has tucked in another cutie, a gift for being her first customer from her homeland, the philippines. yup, these babies are made with love by a filipina.

thanks apol! my new la pomme lovelies have quickly found their own corners in my home. :)

i am peter pan

i will always be a child in so many ways. it was a teacher who has said it first, you are an old soul. frankly it took me by surprise. i have thought myself as new to this world. i've always held a lot of fascination for the ordinariness of things. i have the eternal wonder in me as if i'm always seeing things for the first time. then i started to think, maybe it's true. that my soul, ancient, has gone through childhood in so many lifetimes that i remember it with graceful ease.

which is why this halloween i went as peter pan. not as the boy who never grew up. but as someone who vows to be forever young.

there comes certain points in our lives when we stop and realize that we are in the middle of nowhere. oftentimes we lose our way simply because we've forgotten who we are. i've suffered through a drawn-out quarter life crisis agonizing over not knowing who i was and where i was going. years have taught me that the answer wasn't out there. so i drilled down to the deepest place i could find within me and like peter pan, i realized i was not young enough to know everything.

thus i started being a kid again. i rediscovered old favorites and more importantly, i started remembering the things that made me happy as a child. i remembered my dreams which were sorrily dismissed somewhere along the road to being an adult. it's ironic how we couldn't wait to grow up and learn to become this amazing person, when we've had what it takes all along. as grown-ups we have learned to fear and hesitate on the brink of our goals. we've simply forgotten that no dream is too impossible, too wonderful to be real.

this journey of unlearning continues today.

if you find yourself lost or at the crossroads, remember. go back to that place where all our happy thoughts live. which way to neverland? second to the right and straight on till morning!

hope wins

i've had no televison these last 3 and a half years. no regular csi marathons, no glimpses of reality tv as they like to call the irony, no flashing neon box sitting in a corner of my room. for 3 and a half years i've enjoyed this peace and quiet, my own definition of luxury. some have said i've disconnected myself from the world. which is funny because i've never felt so connected before as much as i have now now. mornings come and i don't see celebrity gossip or hear the latest balita (news). instead i see the light changing its colors. i know if it's a good day for the surfers to ride their kite or if it's a morning i'd like to swim in the beach. i wake up with my own thoughts for the day, reinforced by my own positivity. on days which aren't as good, i wake up dealing with my own battles. i believe that the news that really matter will come to me anyway and come they have. from the the pertinent (obama is president! - an sms from my aunt in virginia the very minute he was proclaimed) to the the entertaining bits that hardly tip the scales (angelina jolie's having twins! - my mom).

this tube-less existence isn't apathy towards what's happening in the planet nor cynicism towards the people that run it. it's simply a choice that i've made. i choose to listen to stories of people whose actions make a difference, no matter how big or small; of people who have the same compassion and desire to change this world beginning with themselves. while i find a handful of tv series (straight from dvds!) wildly amusing, nothing entertains me more than real stories from friends i've known since high waist maong (jeans) were all the rage; to island folks who've chosen to live simply and therefore largely; and from beautiful strangers i've met here & in my travels. these are tales that make the fiber of everyday existence. more than anything, they are constant reminders that there's still more humanness in this world than is being shown in that box.



so when a story of gigantic magnitude reflects the same values, the whole world is up on its feet. barack obama's victory has not only made history in terms of color, race & number. he's had the whole world of hopefuls rooting for him, wishing that they too could vote. his win is a testament of a world crying out for change. in a time of disbelief, he united those who still had faith running in their veins, the same group of individuals across the continents who've been making a difference in their own little ways. the collective result is a miracle made possible not by gods, but by human beings.

what i have learned in these last 3 and a half years is that we are all connected. that whatever pockets of negativity we carry contribute to the disease that ails our planet. that whatever bursts of joy and love we bring continue to heal this affliction. what so many of us fail to realize is that it is hope why we still walk despite being wounded. because if there isn't any (as the jaded would love to rally), then why not drop dead and cease to exist? why go on, i mean really, if this life isn't worth saving? there's always hope tucked in the dustiest corners of our hearts. so long as we continue to breathe, hope lives.

i'm not saying or implying that you get rid of your tv :) what works for me may not work for everyone else. but i think that we all have our own personal televisions we can give up in exchange for something real. a life without it has not made me apathetic to the issues, rather it has made me more compassionate. i didn't ditch it because i became cynical, but because i wanted to be more optimistic. when i decided to stop watching it was then that i started seeing how things really are.