Bus

I met a girl on a bus. We were seated on the first seat facing the stairs. Glancing at her, I thought she was from Japan, but void of physical and linguistic evidence. I just insisted in my head: hmm… she ought to be Japanese.

She’s far from me; a child could literally fill the space between us. So, summoning a possibility for a chat, I asked her to move closer. She did.

I knew she was foreign – in all the good ways. She knew I was Filipino. Good guess. She’s been here for 10 months, and she’ll be filling up the  2 years to finish her Master’s. She taught me her country has three seasons. Their given names, I learned, are usually three characters. But two, I confirmed, is okay (I didn’t ask the case with their surnames, though).

She’s lean and bespectacled. Smiling and confident, I told her she must be living in quite a small country (Myanmar, I was reminded, is twice the land area of the Philippines).

I learned it’s best to ask questions. And genuinely put an effort to listen with full attention.

Our Oceans, Our Future

A poem for the ocean isn’t much. But I write what I know, what I can learn, and what I like for me and others to read. It’s a pleasure.

The words aren’t the best part, however. Though the words themselves have the power to influence, it is only the piercing one that matters – the few words that stick to you towards action, or even a small change.

Getting people to move requires we be the role model ourselves. People have to see and experience for themselves WHY a cause is so important. Consistency comes from nudging and vision. People have to be reminded of WHAT they’re fighting for.

And one of those we fight for is our oceans, our lungs that keep us all alive.

There are many ways we can contribute to our oceans, which goes beyond this list.

But here’s some:

1. Walk more. Commute less.
2. Ride a bicycle if you have one.
3. Know and share. It’s a big lesson for me because I only know but hesitate to share. To spread ideas, however, is for the world to identify with you and your thoughts.
4. Bring your own bag.
5. Invest on reusable items.
6. Eat more plants.
7. Dine in; a nice packed lunch can also do a lot of good if one has the time to cook.
8. Instead of printing, read online.
9. Be intentional of your purchases. Ask yourself if you really need it at least a dozen times. It works.
10. Be a conveyor.

Being internally consistent with what we want to contribute to our world and its recuperation, in general, doesn’t need much.

Re-examining the little things we do that interlace our daily routine, shifting a block here and there, and paying the good forward, make ripples. Changing one’s heart, I believe, is a huge step.

 

 

Best Time

The time is now – not tomorrow or the next month. Do it now. It’s a timeless advice that saves us from ourselves.

Sweat the hesitation, put it in a cage, seal it. You’re free. Do it now, with courage in your heart. You’ll never know how empowering it could get, unless you do.

The willingness to propel ourselves – now – is a choice, perhaps the best, we can always make.

Doubts

Goals can sometimes scare me. However, when I’m taking a few steps, I feel like my life is going somewhere. I have substance, the earth applauds.

Now, few days on it, the thrill is gone – I abandon it.

Why it is so easy to be determined at a gripping moment and a limp the next?

I sit for some time and think about this restlessness: I think about my big hopes which hover on towering dreams and fulfillment. Then it all zooms back to reality – I’m nowhere that far. Inches against light years.

My lizard brain knew it was right: “I told you, it ain’t gonna work.”

I thought I’ve built formidable patterns, a better nemesis against the lizard brain. But time and again it wins. I wonder how to rebuild a better strategy.

To nurse my ambiguous self-esteem, it helps to look for an “A-HA” advice from awesome people in the Internet. But it doesn’t help much when the lizard has better things to do.

So where do I outsource a constant inspiration and courage to sail with my fears?

I came up with an answer: beginning. When I begin to type these words, doubts slowly retreat. Even as the great uncertainty pulls me back, I literally feel knocking out one foe after another. Bodies pile up until I have conquered my own barriers.

We are our own nemesis: It takes identifying what bugs us, recognizing it, and confronting it head-on is the only way to subdue it.

So I begin. I write what makes me lethargic, yearning, confused. I write them all down, if not to resolve them but to appease myself.

Pausing is also magic. I ask myself what matters now. If it isn’t a race in the first place, then continuing in small steps must be the answer.

Peak energy is a do or die. I know that mornings is when I’m most alive. Dedication to that fountain of energy is our choice. Knowing one’s self and building a habit strategically is the key to consistency.

I must take breaks, too… in the form of motion. We change our physiology and we change our lives.

Last, building something concrete requires a deadline – this is my greatest loophole. Maybe shaving my head bald is a perfect consequence. Unless I make that project come to life, then bald I will be in no time.

To upend one’s doubts is to start.

Let’s Smith Some Words!

WriteTogether_01

Writing, for me, is a discovery. And I believe we’re malleable beings, ready to stretch if we allow ourselves to.

How about we write together… make our words dance and surface to life.

These creations could be a blog post or an essay. I can also edit and proofread a manuscript. 

I write about the wonders of the ocean, most of which reside in Blogspot

Here at P To Be Awesome, I’ve mused about minimalism, digital curation, wellness, solitude, existential poems, among a slew I freely write about. 

You can read through my archive to see what I can write for you. If you’re keen for a surprise, I could take a challenge.

Tell me anything about yourself, what you’re up to, and what you’d like for us to write about. 

How It Is

This is human
As I walk, feel the ground
The sun shines, glares at times
Penetrates nearly all nooks of life
I look up the blue above
Full circle, covered me
It’s all but a mere bite
A sliver, a respite
This is how it is

If you were a bird on a wire
A solitary, black bird lifted to see afar
Will you peck flowers nearby?
Soar and glide with ease in the sky?
Will you nod at me as I pass by?

I take a sit the Earth gives
A moment’s delight, simple and free
The leaves rustle, fall with grace
An open curtain of warm embrace
Momentary breeze across my face
Life at its fullness
Stretched in short bursts
Soft, warm, piercing
This is how it is

Life is filled with strange extremes
Chase and chase, the heart grieves
Of harshness and acceptance
Of inadequacy and satiation
Of mere steps and finality
The moment sows a middle ground
This is where I slip, peace be found
This is how it is

I stare at you long enough
Contours, smile, it’s been a while
A spot I missed the whole time
The ethereal silhouette you wore
At that moment when you glow

I breathe your presence
Feeling you against mine
That stretch of time, visceral, infinite
We snap back, we’re here
Gravity sinks
This is as close as we could be

Voices

It’s about to win again – that voice we hear at the slight push, discomfort, uncertainty.

The voice can trick us to doubt our worth: It can debase us, engulf our will, and smother the slightest of possibilities. That stubborn voice sings curses, spools stories, negates all paths.

We’d rather resent ourselves: It’s easy to blame where we came from, our ‘lack’ of talent, problems we’re bequeathed, and the many random excuses our heads are very adept at making. We look unto others, casting insecurities. If we only have X and Y, then it’s a blast. We’ll be happier. 

But here’s the really happy news – we can pop that bubble. Because that voice, it turns out, is only a voice. 

We can grab our wands right away! Together, let’s point our wands to our temples, gather our unreasonable thoughts, summon the entity, and release it in a ‘Pensieve’. Should it whine, we lay it on a bedside while it munches. 

The voice is always going to be there (nodding at you, fear), but we have the will to be free from its leashes, and, instead, propel ourselves with the fear.

How?

It begins by making peace with ourselves and just experiment with an interest, a goal, a dream, a simple stretch. Should we free ourselves from too many rationalizations, everyday becomes a chance to firm that boundary between us and the enmity. 

There’s no muck to drag us down: It’s imaginary. There’s only one here, one today, asking us to move up and see the skies. There are no frustrations, only mountains.

We can be who we want to be while the voice screams “No, stay where you are!” It will pester, belittle, muffle and deter us.

But you know what’s great? It makes you think why.