A member of the tribe

We were called the "pandemic jubilarians." Three classes (i.e., 95, 96, and 97) celebrating our high school graduations' 25th anniversary jointly and belatedly. I did not know what to expect from this event. My older sister did not participate in her homecoming in 2019 and my other older sister was supposed to be part of this consolidated reunion. I planned to just do the bare minimum, like show up at the event, and wait for the next communication from our alumni foundation.

Nothing was expected of me. I mean, we have in our ranks the vice president of the Philippines and a couple other politicians. What have I got to show for myself? Although I graduated at the top of my class, I was not famous or influential back then. I was a nerd and recluse (hiding behind my comical facade), who just happened to be friends with famous and influential people in our batch. Unfortunately (or fortunately), the fame and influence did not rub off on me. I was (and still am) a nobody. 

But my past is not my future. I thought that maybe if I participate and extend my help, I can change how I see myself. I decided to be involved. I attended Zoom meetings. I made donations (anonymously) when needed. I showed up not just during the reunion itself, but even in related events like outreach project and art exhibit. I wanted to belong, but my efforts were not getting me there. Somehow, I still felt awkward. 

I realized that while most of them grew up together and spent time with each other for most of their lives after high school, I, on the other hand, had been threshed from our little pond and fed to the piranhas swimming in the vast ocean. I made unconventional choices in my education, career, and personal life, that to them do not make sense. Although I am a member of this tribe, I have, over the years, associated myself with different tribes. And for that, a part of me will always remain an outsider to them. I will always be weird and strange, and I think that is beautiful. I can now accept that. 

The value of listing things daily

I have a pad of post-it next to my candle warmer. Before I retire to my bed each day, I write on a fresh note the things I want to accomplish the next day. At the end of each day, I peel off the note and throw it away. I do not hold on to a note just because there were unfinished things/tasks on it. Maybe they were not as important as the others. Maybe they were not meant to be completed in one day. Maybe they were not supposed to be on the list. 

More than serving as a reminder of things to do, my list is a subtle prompt to myself that I am given a new slate every day to write my life story. The list tells me that it is up to me if I want to hold on to the things from the day that was or to start anew. The list shows the things that matter to me at the moment, and by implication, those that do not. 

My list is both a hope and a promise. A hope that I can accomplish what I had set out to do and a promise that I will follow through. It is a ritual that is deeply grounded on stoicism -- You do what you can at the moment. You do the things that you can control. You balance your life's books each day. As the great stoic philosopher Seneca once wrote, "The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time."

Overextension

This is a term often used in finance but can very well be applied in any aspect of life. When we have less than what is needed or demanded, we overextend ourselves and our resources. When we are on the threshold of exhaustion or burnout. When we are on the brink of fatigue or injury. When we are on the edge of madness and on the verge of despair. Do we reach within us and carry on? Should we choose to be gritty? Do we act like heroes or ordinary humans? When our default is to overextend ourselves, do we still believe there is such a thing as overextension? 

I think that we overextend ourselves because at the end of the day, it is more comforting to tell ourselves that we did our absolute best and failed than to accept that we have limitations.

Now Watching: Physical: 100 on Netflix

300,000 baby steps

Our company rolled out "Step Up to the Challenge" in MoveSpring, where in the course of 40 days, employees who signed up to the challenge will have to complete 300K steps by the end of the period. That's at least 7,500 steps a day! I know that to others that is fairly easy -- so easy that there are 878 other employees who did better than me. But for someone who only walks when she feels like it, this requires more than the usual commitment and consistency. 

They say that what determines one's success to stick to a certain task is the level of difficulty of the task. The perfect level is just beyond one's current level of ability. If it is too easy, we become bored. If it is too hard, we become discouraged. So, we try to find the middle ground -- not too easy, not too difficult. By my assessment, this challenge was within the Goldilocks Rule sweet spot. 

I must admit that I was a bit hesitant to sign up. I looked at my calendar and the time period was smack in the middle of some pretty hectic days like Chinese New Year, lawyers' national convention, and my high school reunion. I might not be able to carve out a time for walking on those days. I did not want to over-exert myself on some days to make up for lost opportunity. I needed to stay on the sweet spot. 

True enough, with 15 days to go, I had a backlog of 150,000 steps. The once manageable 7,500 steps/day was increased to a staggering 10,000 steps/day. I have never walked 10,000 steps for 15 consecutive days post-knee injury. With the convention and reunion activities still on the horizon, I needed to find an hour and a half each day to accomplish the task. No excuses. Distractions and busyness be damned.

Of course, this is a success story. I completed the challenge just in the nick of time. I would still have blogged about it even if I failed though. I had doubts, but my "might as well" mentality carried me through the tough times. It felt like a podium finish (haha!). I was really proud. As I always say, "I am not the fittest, but I can suffer."

Now I feel like anything is possible. Maybe I can go back to hiking. Maybe I can join races again. Maybe I can fulfill my Hardrock 100 or EBC dreams after all. I know I sound delusional, but if I learned anything from this challenge, it is that I have enough resolve and will power to finish anything that is worth pursuing.

Permission to be cheesy

"On a spinning ball in the middle of space
I love you from your toes to your face."

-- Train, If It's Love

Love. It's been a while. I already forgot how it feels. I thought it will be like magic, butterflies in the stomach, and bells ringing in the background. Turned out, it was more like wobbly manholes, charades, and false alarms. Those who seem to have figured it out do not really have any sage advice or secret formula to share. They all talk cryptic, like "you just know..." Those who seem to have given up are secretly wishing their horoscope would be right -- that love will happen to them when they least expect it -- and probably feigning jadedness.

I trust that you are still out there. Probably also looking in the wrong places, searching for signs in the form of coincidences, second guessing if you are worthy. John Mayer said that we could be searching all our days, but we are not sure who we are looking for. "I could have met you in a sandbox. I could have passed you on the sidewalk." No one knows. It's up to you and me. We need not worry though; the universe will conspire.

Take your sweet time, because no one is really in a hurry here. Except probably my parents, who are in the twilight of their lives and are (strangely) still rooting for you. I mean, how could you give up if you have already won the home turf? 

Can we agree that when we find each other, we will not judge each other's past, we will choose each other every day, and we will include each other in our plans? Can we agree that if we never find each other, we will continue to believe in the possibility of "one day"?

You know, at night, when I am lonely, I whisper to the universe, "Kung hindi mo man ibigay saken mahal ko, sana ibigay mo sa kanya yung mahal nya, para at least isa sa'men masaya."

Apprise, not monetize

As I gain more followers and my reviews increase in traction, some people suggested that I pivot my food review efforts from Google Maps to other social media platforms. Food/restaurant reviews are a buzz nowadays and content creators seem to have their respective cult following. So much so that they could make or break a business. Logically, they would get invites from establishments that want a feature or a recommendation. As a person who relies on food reviews/testimonies to look for places to eat, I would question the genuineness of a paid reviewer or a sponsored post. Are you still impartial and truthful? Would you have given a different view if you were not paid or incentivized? Are you doing work or public service?

Google Maps prohibits content that has been incentivized by a business in exchange for discounts, free goods and/or services. The aim is to crowd source customer satisfaction, experiences, and information for the general public. When everyone is allowed to contribute, the influence of paid advertising is lessened. The voluntary and honest reviews level the playing field for the mom-and-pop businesses. Everyone has the opportunity to give his/her opinion and verify other people's claims. There are no influencers, only local guides. 

Although I will not be able to monetize my efforts, I will stick with reviewing in Google Maps. More than the potential income, I value my freedom, credibility, and impartiality. There is no pressure to regularly post content for the fans (or haters). I do not have to please anyone, and I am not indebted to anyone. I write reviews in hopes that other people will benefit from them the same way I benefit from other people's reviews. 

A case for the dark chocolate

Until recently, no one really cared about dark chocolates. Chocolate is supposed to be sweet and brown. Not dark brown, just brown. It should be milky and buttery. Its message of comfort and affection just does not align with the bitter taste of dark chocolate. 

Then, out of nowhere, studies about the health benefits of dark chocolate made converts of those with sweet tooth. As if the only saving grace of dark chocolate is that it is a superfood. With all due respect, I disagree.

Dark chocolate is basic and flexible. When you start with something bitter, you can always make it sweet. How can you make it the other way around? I don't know. Burn it?

Dark chocolate also evokes comfort and affection. I remember drinking bitter hot cocoa (hello there, tablea!) and still think that it was made with my mom's love. I also remember receiving sweet chocolates from assholes and people who were not genuinely sorry. You see, food association is relative and not universal.

Dark chocolate requires less process to make. If milk chocolate has more milk solids (from cows!) and sugar, it is easy to do the carbon footprint math.

So let us not underplay the awesomeness of dark chocolate. It is bitter, but it is better in many respects. 

The value of breaking things

There is something to be said about broken things. The general perception is that such things cause pain, suffering, and regret. The knee-jerk reaction is to fix them. The last resort is to discard and replace them. Breaking looks, feels, and sounds like failure, but it actually is nature's masterstroke. 

Nature intends all things to break. The first leaf has to break through the seed coat. The flower has to break free of its bud. The food has to be masticated for it to be useful. The muscle has to be stressed for it to adapt. Breaking is science at its finest. 

Sometimes, breaking is not an effect, but a cause. Maybe it is not a consequence, but a catalyst. Maybe things break, so that we can embrace change faster.

Eye of the storm

What a busy January! I finally got the time to store away my winter clothes, read some of my new books, and stock up the fridge and pantry. Sometimes I underestimate the effort it takes to unpack my luggage after a long vacation, to distribute pasalubongs, and to wake up to no breakfast and think of what to eat (Mommy, I miss you na!). The reality is there will be shitload of laundry to wash, bank accounts and budget to track and update, new stuff to store and give away, and an inbox full of emails to read and reply to. As always, I need a vacation after that vacation. 

I was able to sneak a week in Baguio to check out the dining scene. So many restaurants to go to, but so little time (considering that I am sleeping during daytime and fasting daily for 16 hours). I went to local dining staples and found new hidden gems. This was the vacation I needed. There was no pressure to roam around because I know I can always go back to this place anytime. I had a record-breaking 7-hour sleep three days in a row. I ate good food, read a good book at nearby cafes, and re-discovered my happy place. Yes, Baguio has always been my happy place. This was the jumping-off point to many of my memorable hikes. I am glad I made a spur-of-the-moment decision to take this trip, but I should remember not to pack light next time (lest I want to do laundry or buy more new clothes).

I am grateful for this much-needed respite. Sometimes we need the break so we can catch up on our regular programming. Sometimes the break is all we need to declutter our homes, to edit our contact list, to rekindle old and forgotten passions, or to write another blog entry. Perhaps this calmness is not the end, but just the eye of the storm. I am still grateful though, because in a world where you seem to always have to roll with the punches, moments of unbothered attention are hard to come by.