Birthdays are great opportunities to celebrate our lives and remind ourselves of what we’ve become so far. As I continue celebrating my 27th year, it doesn’t matter that I haven’t yet become a millionaire, or 10 pounds lighter, or CEO of a global organization; what matters to me is that I was blessed with another year of existence, another day to look forward to—and that in itself is a miracle. Life comes and goes like a flame burning on a windy day, so every morning that we wake up to is a gift that ought to be cherished. I truly am just happy and grateful to be alive.
My mom always reminds me that when I was born, I had been in her womb for only seven months and was, therefore, premature-born and teetering between life and death. I was tiny creature at 3 pounds, 12 ounces (my uncle would tease me that I looked like a huge rat), and I had to be incubated for two months following my birth. Since my mom had to go back to work soon after her maternity leave expired to be able to pay for the hospital bills, it was my grandfather and aunt who would visit me at the hospital nursery every day. My aunt told me that, whenever she visited, she would send me positive energy and good vibrations from across the nursery window, always praying that I would live. My grandfather consecrated me to the Child Jesus (Sto. Niño), thus my first name, Niña (also, “little girl” in Spanish).
As the story goes, there was a day when my mom and my grandfather were looking at my frail, incubated body from across the nursery window, when I turned my head up to face them, and then I smiled. At that point, my Lolo (Grandpa) declared, “She will live.”
It was then that I was marked with a propitious name and destiny. With the certainty that I was going to live, my family added a second name, Rica (“rich” in Spanish), because they said I was “rich and full of life.” Put together, my first two names, Niña Rica, mean “little rich girl.”
Looking back at my 27 years, I realize that I was never rich, but I was also never poor. I may have always had just enough money, or just enough resources to get by, but I was always rich in family, friends, loved ones, and good karma. Even at the lowest points in my life (those days when we would have just Php20 to spend for a whole day’s meal, or when I had to rely on “love donations” from family and friends for food), I always had reasons to be grateful.
I don’t yet fully understand why, and I don’t want to question the Universe for showering me with unexpected blessings, but something that my aunt wrote to me just recently gave me a glimpse of a probable reason. She told me that, when she was in the hospital and sending “healing energy and positive vibrations” to my “tiny and frail body”, she was always praying that I’d “pull through so that (I) can experience life.” As early as back then, my family was already rooting for me and cheering me on; I’m realizing that part of my purpose for living could be to show them that, indeed, this life was worth saving.
Maybe, part of my purpose is to “experience life” so that I can share this with others. Pay it forward, so to speak.
One of my favorite quotes is from the Spanish poet and dramatist, Federico Garcia Lorca. “Lo que mas me importa… es vivir. (What matters most to … is to live),” he said. In reality, “living” could be taken in many contexts, but I know that, to him, it meant to live a life of significance and service to humankind. Lorca was executed by a firing squad during the Spanish Civil War for his activism, and his words resonated with me because I, too, have always wanted to live for a higher purpose.
What this “higher purpose” is, though, I have yet to discern.
So, I suppose this Journey shouldn’t be about just knowing where I ought go in life. I also need to know why I was put here, why my life was saved when so many others were not, and how I can continue to show others that I am worthy of being here. They are difficult questions, to be sure, but they sure make life seem less mundane and more interesting!
This brings me back to my favorite Rilke quote, “Live the questions…” Now that I seem to have zeroed in on the right questions to ask, how, then, do I start living them?
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
“Little Rich Girl”
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Visions in Art
Way back in college, I somehow figured out that it would be much easier for me to achieve my goals if I put them on paper. This was in freshman year, when all of us got an initial assessment of our performance through the mid-term grade report. Since my primary goal then was to get good grades, I visualized my goal by making a copy of my mid-term grade report, putting in the grades that I wanted to see at the end of the semester, and posting that “ideal grade report” on my bedroom wall.
It seemed to have worked, because seeing my ideal grades set the tone for my performance for the rest of the semester. I didn’t get on the Dean’s List then, but I did discover a powerful motivational tool for myself, and I got in the Dean’s List several times after that. I graduated with a pretty decent QPI (Quality Point Index, our equivalent of the GPA), and this paved the way for many good opportunities after college.
Since then, I have made a conscious effort to visualize my goals either by listing them down or cutting out pictures that clearly depicted what I wanted. After college, I was lucky enough to have a huge blank wall in my room that I called my “vision wall.” It was about six feet wide and eight feet high, and I posted anything and everything that I wanted on it. There was a “career ladder,” which showed the steps that I wanted to take after college (corporate job, law school and MBA, and so on); there were writings and cut-outs of my ideal condo, the image that I wanted to project as I embarked on a corporate career, the savings that I wanted to accumulate… and even the names of my crushes then (once a girl, always a girl). It was a statement of the kind of person that I wanted to become, and I made it my “visual mantra.”
When a “vision wall” was no longer feasible, I had a “vision scrapbook.” Again, I would cut out pictures, draw paintings, and write words and phrases that motivated me. The vision scrapbook that followed had pictures of nice clothes, beautiful jewelry, cars and homes, pretty faces, material things that I had somehow allowed to dictate my goals.
As time passed, however, I realized that the “vision” I was striving toward was becoming way too materialistic. I was focusing too much on things that I had wanted to acquire instead of on the person that I had wanted to become. My vision art looked very pretty, but it started to lose its meaning. I became confused, and my life became a testament to that confusion. I picked fights with my parents and siblings (and ended up not talking to them for two whole years), stayed with a man I didn’t love because it was “convenient”, played around with other people’s feelings, and all the while waited for good luck to come my way. (Of course it didn’t; my karmic points were way below zero already.)
By the time I worked on my last vision art, about four years ago, I knew that its contents would change because I myself wanted to change. I wanted balance, quality of life, freedom of expression, freedom of being… ideals and values that I knew weren’t exactly related to the kind of house that I lived in, the clothes that I wore, or the money that I had in my bank account. That latest version inspired me to embark on a freelance writing career, do what I loved most, and become self-sufficient doing it.
Now it’s time for me to work on another version of my vision art. At 27, I’m at the cusp of what I’d like to call “enlightened and balanced femininity,” where I am able to achieve my goals, know and express my innermost self, and balance all aspects of my life. I’d like my art, and my life as a whole, to demonstrate my commitment to my family (present and future), to my career, and, most importantly, to myself. In this stage of my life, there is no “settling,” no unnecessary and disadvantageous compromises, only a full life that’s well-lived.
As an initial attempt, I’ve picked out some photos from Corbis and Getty Images that resonate the most with my vision. (Please do not "steal" photos for commercial purposes!) Since I’m no Photoshop expert, I cut and pasted them in Paint, and the result is this little piece that you see here. This is definitely a work-in-progress—it is by no means what will appear on my final vision art (I hate how it looks so un-artsy)—but I think it’s a decent start. At least it shows what’s truly in my heart.
As I continue working on the masterpiece of my Life, I’d like to invite you, my friends and readers, to make your own vision art. You may show it to others (and we can post it here), or you may also just keep it to yourself if you wish—it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you can clearly see with your eyes what is contained in your heart, and that it adds a little more meaning and purpose into your existence.
Bring out the scissors!
~ Niña Terol (written 23 January 2007)
----------
Question for Saturday Survey:
What inspires you to discern and listen to your own voice? What is your own Journey all about?
If you want to be part of Saturday Survey #1, send your answers to nina.terol@gmail.com or leave a comment here. Please state at least your age and a description of yourself. Names are optional. Thank you!
It seemed to have worked, because seeing my ideal grades set the tone for my performance for the rest of the semester. I didn’t get on the Dean’s List then, but I did discover a powerful motivational tool for myself, and I got in the Dean’s List several times after that. I graduated with a pretty decent QPI (Quality Point Index, our equivalent of the GPA), and this paved the way for many good opportunities after college.
Since then, I have made a conscious effort to visualize my goals either by listing them down or cutting out pictures that clearly depicted what I wanted. After college, I was lucky enough to have a huge blank wall in my room that I called my “vision wall.” It was about six feet wide and eight feet high, and I posted anything and everything that I wanted on it. There was a “career ladder,” which showed the steps that I wanted to take after college (corporate job, law school and MBA, and so on); there were writings and cut-outs of my ideal condo, the image that I wanted to project as I embarked on a corporate career, the savings that I wanted to accumulate… and even the names of my crushes then (once a girl, always a girl). It was a statement of the kind of person that I wanted to become, and I made it my “visual mantra.”
When a “vision wall” was no longer feasible, I had a “vision scrapbook.” Again, I would cut out pictures, draw paintings, and write words and phrases that motivated me. The vision scrapbook that followed had pictures of nice clothes, beautiful jewelry, cars and homes, pretty faces, material things that I had somehow allowed to dictate my goals.
As time passed, however, I realized that the “vision” I was striving toward was becoming way too materialistic. I was focusing too much on things that I had wanted to acquire instead of on the person that I had wanted to become. My vision art looked very pretty, but it started to lose its meaning. I became confused, and my life became a testament to that confusion. I picked fights with my parents and siblings (and ended up not talking to them for two whole years), stayed with a man I didn’t love because it was “convenient”, played around with other people’s feelings, and all the while waited for good luck to come my way. (Of course it didn’t; my karmic points were way below zero already.)
By the time I worked on my last vision art, about four years ago, I knew that its contents would change because I myself wanted to change. I wanted balance, quality of life, freedom of expression, freedom of being… ideals and values that I knew weren’t exactly related to the kind of house that I lived in, the clothes that I wore, or the money that I had in my bank account. That latest version inspired me to embark on a freelance writing career, do what I loved most, and become self-sufficient doing it.
Now it’s time for me to work on another version of my vision art. At 27, I’m at the cusp of what I’d like to call “enlightened and balanced femininity,” where I am able to achieve my goals, know and express my innermost self, and balance all aspects of my life. I’d like my art, and my life as a whole, to demonstrate my commitment to my family (present and future), to my career, and, most importantly, to myself. In this stage of my life, there is no “settling,” no unnecessary and disadvantageous compromises, only a full life that’s well-lived.
As an initial attempt, I’ve picked out some photos from Corbis and Getty Images that resonate the most with my vision. (Please do not "steal" photos for commercial purposes!) Since I’m no Photoshop expert, I cut and pasted them in Paint, and the result is this little piece that you see here. This is definitely a work-in-progress—it is by no means what will appear on my final vision art (I hate how it looks so un-artsy)—but I think it’s a decent start. At least it shows what’s truly in my heart.
As I continue working on the masterpiece of my Life, I’d like to invite you, my friends and readers, to make your own vision art. You may show it to others (and we can post it here), or you may also just keep it to yourself if you wish—it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you can clearly see with your eyes what is contained in your heart, and that it adds a little more meaning and purpose into your existence.
Bring out the scissors!
~ Niña Terol (written 23 January 2007)
----------
Question for Saturday Survey:
What inspires you to discern and listen to your own voice? What is your own Journey all about?
If you want to be part of Saturday Survey #1, send your answers to nina.terol@gmail.com or leave a comment here. Please state at least your age and a description of yourself. Names are optional. Thank you!
Listening to My Inner Voice
There are days when I can go on for at least eight hours straight without talking to anyone. Not that I mean to; it usually happens on days when I’m working on something, or contemplating something, and the voices in my head are enough to keep my ears buzzed for a while.
When that happens, I often get surprised by the sound of my own voice once I do get to speak.
Now I’m realizing that I haven’t listened to my own voice often enough to know what it really sounds like.
Lately, every time I’ve found the time to just be still and try to discern my direction on so many levels of my being, I find that I can’t really sit still for very long. I’m always anxious to move on to the next “to-do” on my list; I’m always looking for something else to do or somewhere else to be. Now I’m realizing that it’s probably because I’m scared of what I’ll actually here when I do listen to myself.
Will I hear comforting words, such as those that I hear from my best friends? Will I hear reprimanding words, such as those that my siblings often hear from me? Will I hear things that I’ve never heard before and would rather not hear? Or, worse, will I hear the same old things that I hear every day—only, this time, they’ll be louder and more insistent because I haven’t really been paying attention to them before?
When I think about it, I realize that one major reason why I’m scared of my own voice is that I’m usually right about many things—at least on the level of intuition. When my gut tells me something and I just shirk it off, it will somehow prove itself right later on, whether in a good or in a bad way. When I get that familiar pounding of my heart and I ignore it, Life often pounds me on the head to tell me to listen up. When I find a part of myself giving another part of myself some advice (and then I ignore it), it will later on come back to say, “So, what did I tell you? I told you so, right?”
These are the times when I hate being right.
Then again, there have been lots of times when I followed my intuition and, therefore, have had reasons to be eternally grateful to the Universe—such as when I left my last real “job” to be a freelance writer and editor, or when I agreed to go out on a “dinner and drinks” date with Paul, or when I turned in my resignation from my most recent company just a month ago. When I do listen to my gut and act upon it, I usually end up thanking myself.
So why on earth am I being so damn stubborn?
Maybe a part of me enjoys “not knowing” (or at least pretending not to know) so that I can live my life as if everything were just happening in real time and I can just experience the events as they come. To a certain extent, following one’s intuition is like taking a peep at the last few paragraphs of a book and knowing its ending—it certainly kills whatever sense of excitement or adventure there is to reading (or living). Or maybe there are instances when my intuition points out something that is less than pleasant, and my inherent trust in the Universe makes me overly hopeful that “things will turn out all right” (even when everything else points to the other direction).
Maybe, too, I’m scared of acting upon my intuition because, if I’m right, then the Universe will find more reasons to send me more signals to interpret, which will then force me to tune into my inner voice even more, which will make me… pretty much in control of the outcome of my life. Nothing and nobody else to blame but me, my stubbornness, my arrogance, and my stupidity. Now THAT is a very, very scary thing indeed.
One writer, Joyce Anderson, put it similarly:
“Fear of being responsible for your idea is another reason we ignore intuition. It is personal and reflects your talents and passions. Since intuition is in the present, it doesn’t show us how our ideas will turn out, so we don’t trust it. Now we are doubly afraid to act on our idea. However, intuition will offer answers along the way, as well as work with others; this is where trust fits. Plus, how boring would it be to skip to the end of the movie and miss the adventure?”
It is somehow easier to “not know”, to act blindly, and then to accept the outcomes of our decisions—however misinformed and misguided they may have been—later on. If things turn out to be good, then you can say that it was a “miracle” or a really good coincidence. If the outcome is unpleasant, then you can blame it on so many factors—your family, your friends, your finances, your boss, the weather… whatever, as long as it’s not yourself.
But, then again, this isn’t what this journey is about, right…? It’s not about what’s easy or convenient. It’s not about going into life blindly and then making up all sorts of excuses for failing. It’s not about letting everything else but ourselves take control of our lives. It’s not about being clueless spectators to our own existence… right?
To a large extent, this journey is about being aware of everything that goes on around and inside me. It’s about being fully present to the tingles, the thoughts, the emotions, and the intuitive sparks that present themselves throughout my life. It’s about knowing why I feel a certain way when, or why I act a certain way in spite of knowing that I should act otherwise, or… what truly brings my heart joy. It’s about fully being in my experiences, instead of just seeing them in hindsight, and about achieving my truest, honest-to-goodness purpose.
One of my favorite authors (Dr. Deepak Chopra), in one of my favorite books (SynchroDestiny), put it so beautifully:
When we learn to live from the level of the soul, many things happen. We become aware of the exquisite patterns and synchronous rhythms that govern all life. We understand the lifetimes of memory and experience that have molded us into the people we are today. Fearfulness and anxiety fall away as we stand in wonder observing the world as it unfolds. We notice the web of coincidences that surrounds us, and we realize that there is meaning even in the smallest events. We discover that by applying attention and intention to these coincidences, we can create specific outcomes in our lives. We connect with everyone and everything in the universe, and recognize the spirit that unites us all. We unveil the wondrousness that is hidden deep inside us and revel in our newfound glory. We consciously shape our destinies into the limitlessly creative expressions they were meant to be, and by doing so we live out our most profound dreams, moving closer to enlightenment.
This is the miracle of synchrodestiny.
Indeed, now is the time to let my soul speak. And I’ll be listening.
- Niña Terol (written: 22 January 2007)
But, then again, this isn’t what this journey is about, right…? It’s not about what’s easy or convenient. It’s not about going into life blindly and then making up all sorts of excuses for failing. It’s not about letting everything else but ourselves take control of our lives. It’s not about being clueless spectators to our own existence… right?
To a large extent, this journey is about being aware of everything that goes on around and inside me. It’s about being fully present to the tingles, the thoughts, the emotions, and the intuitive sparks that present themselves throughout my life. It’s about knowing why I feel a certain way when, or why I act a certain way in spite of knowing that I should act otherwise, or… what truly brings my heart joy. It’s about fully being in my experiences, instead of just seeing them in hindsight, and about achieving my truest, honest-to-goodness purpose.
One of my favorite authors (Dr. Deepak Chopra), in one of my favorite books (SynchroDestiny), put it so beautifully:
When we learn to live from the level of the soul, many things happen. We become aware of the exquisite patterns and synchronous rhythms that govern all life. We understand the lifetimes of memory and experience that have molded us into the people we are today. Fearfulness and anxiety fall away as we stand in wonder observing the world as it unfolds. We notice the web of coincidences that surrounds us, and we realize that there is meaning even in the smallest events. We discover that by applying attention and intention to these coincidences, we can create specific outcomes in our lives. We connect with everyone and everything in the universe, and recognize the spirit that unites us all. We unveil the wondrousness that is hidden deep inside us and revel in our newfound glory. We consciously shape our destinies into the limitlessly creative expressions they were meant to be, and by doing so we live out our most profound dreams, moving closer to enlightenment.
This is the miracle of synchrodestiny.
Indeed, now is the time to let my soul speak. And I’ll be listening.
- Niña Terol (written: 22 January 2007)
*Photo courtesy of Microsoft Word Clip Art
---
Erratum:
In my first post, Becoming Me, I mistakenly translated “uwak” as “hawk”, when it should be “crow.” Thanks to Jennee, Shirley, and Joi for pointing that out to me—I guess that’s one reason why I never tried to write in Filipino for a living!
Erratum:
In my first post, Becoming Me, I mistakenly translated “uwak” as “hawk”, when it should be “crow.” Thanks to Jennee, Shirley, and Joi for pointing that out to me—I guess that’s one reason why I never tried to write in Filipino for a living!
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Becoming Me: An Introduction to Via Filipina
When I was in college, I thought that I’d be “made” by the time I was 21 (I graduated and began my career at 19. I was imagining myself climbing up the corporate ladder, enjoying a good salary, benefits, and stock options, living in my own place, in a stable relationship with a mature man who was going to marry me—in short, I wanted to have the things that every woman dreams of at some point.
As it turns out, it didn’t happen at 21. In fact, my 21st year was perhaps one of the more turbulent years of my young adulthood. I had gotten into a huge fight with both parents and hadn’t been speaking to them for two years; I was in a relationship with “a mature man who was going to marry me,” but I didn’t love him enough and was sneaking out and “having fun” with other guys; I was paying for insurance and a retirement fund, but I wasn’t exactly sure where the rest of my money was going—in short, my life was a complete mess. Some girlfriends and I even had an inside joke about my private life, saying that, “Aayos na ang buhay ni Nines ‘pag pumuti na ang uwak (Nines’s life will be put into order when the hawk turns white—a reference to the Filipino idiomatic expression “kapag pumuti na ang uwak,” which means something that is practically impossible.)
So, at that time, I told myself I’d be “made” by the time I was 25.
True enough, my 25th year was much better than most years had been. By then, I had already established my freelance writing career, put up my own boutique communications firm (Likha Communications Consulting), earned enough money to sustain my mom and my brother, established a serious relationship with the love of my life, Paul, gotten back in touch with myself through New Age spirituality, and pretty much found my way around Life. I felt content most of the time—at the very least I felt in control of my destiny—and I knew that things were going to get better from there. At last, naayos na ang buhay ni Nines (Nines’s life was put back in order).
The funny thing was, it still felt like something was missing.
And, as I’m writing this, I’m about to turn 27, and it seems like I went back to where I was at 23: unsure about my career, financial unstable (I lost my insurance and retirement policies some years back when I had to forfeit payment to pay for some huge bills at home), wondering if my relationship with the love of my life has what it takes to last a lifetime, and at least 10 pounds heavier than I was at 25.
It seems that, just when I thought I had finally “arrived,” Life turned things upside down so that I’d be a few hundred meters short of “arriving”, and I’d again have to traverse a difficult and rocky stretch in order to prove my worth.
Is this really what Life is about? Always climbing higher, always thinking that you’re already reaching the summit, but then always (somehow) falling short of the goal—or falling down—and then having to pick yourself up again?
Or… will we never really reach our goals because, the moment we’ve reached a milestone in our journey, our points of view change and, suddenly, the destination changes, too?
How, then, will we know when we’ve finally “arrived?”
Via Filipina is my new blog that attempts to answers these questions, and much more, about the Filipina’s journey to herself. Through this, I hope to meet many more women like me (and like you!) who are constantly asking important questions and seeking answers through the lives that they lead. I’m not an expert and I don’t pretend to be, but I do want to be a student of women’s lives and see what we can all learn from each other—from the young graduate navigating her way through the corporate jungle, to the young mother who is struggling to find her own identity while teaching her children about theirs, to the career woman who wonders if, indeed, men are intimidated by women who achieve too much, to the Empty Nester who wonders where all the years have gone.
Whoever we are and whatever we do, we do have something to contribute to the female collective consciousness here in the Philippines and around the world. And, wherever we are right now, we are always still going somewhere, still journeying through life, still seeking answers from our inner and outer worlds.
In his book Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke wrote, “Live your questions now, and perhaps even without knowing it, you will live along some distant day into your answers."
Here’s wishing everyone a fabulous and fruitful journey through Life. If we don’t ever get to meet in person, then I do hope we’ll at least get to meet through the stories that we will share, the lessons that we will learn, and the dreams that we will weave. Please do feel free to write back and share your thoughts.
As it turns out, it didn’t happen at 21. In fact, my 21st year was perhaps one of the more turbulent years of my young adulthood. I had gotten into a huge fight with both parents and hadn’t been speaking to them for two years; I was in a relationship with “a mature man who was going to marry me,” but I didn’t love him enough and was sneaking out and “having fun” with other guys; I was paying for insurance and a retirement fund, but I wasn’t exactly sure where the rest of my money was going—in short, my life was a complete mess. Some girlfriends and I even had an inside joke about my private life, saying that, “Aayos na ang buhay ni Nines ‘pag pumuti na ang uwak (Nines’s life will be put into order when the hawk turns white—a reference to the Filipino idiomatic expression “kapag pumuti na ang uwak,” which means something that is practically impossible.)
So, at that time, I told myself I’d be “made” by the time I was 25.
True enough, my 25th year was much better than most years had been. By then, I had already established my freelance writing career, put up my own boutique communications firm (Likha Communications Consulting), earned enough money to sustain my mom and my brother, established a serious relationship with the love of my life, Paul, gotten back in touch with myself through New Age spirituality, and pretty much found my way around Life. I felt content most of the time—at the very least I felt in control of my destiny—and I knew that things were going to get better from there. At last, naayos na ang buhay ni Nines (Nines’s life was put back in order).
The funny thing was, it still felt like something was missing.
And, as I’m writing this, I’m about to turn 27, and it seems like I went back to where I was at 23: unsure about my career, financial unstable (I lost my insurance and retirement policies some years back when I had to forfeit payment to pay for some huge bills at home), wondering if my relationship with the love of my life has what it takes to last a lifetime, and at least 10 pounds heavier than I was at 25.
It seems that, just when I thought I had finally “arrived,” Life turned things upside down so that I’d be a few hundred meters short of “arriving”, and I’d again have to traverse a difficult and rocky stretch in order to prove my worth.
Is this really what Life is about? Always climbing higher, always thinking that you’re already reaching the summit, but then always (somehow) falling short of the goal—or falling down—and then having to pick yourself up again?
Or… will we never really reach our goals because, the moment we’ve reached a milestone in our journey, our points of view change and, suddenly, the destination changes, too?
How, then, will we know when we’ve finally “arrived?”
Via Filipina is my new blog that attempts to answers these questions, and much more, about the Filipina’s journey to herself. Through this, I hope to meet many more women like me (and like you!) who are constantly asking important questions and seeking answers through the lives that they lead. I’m not an expert and I don’t pretend to be, but I do want to be a student of women’s lives and see what we can all learn from each other—from the young graduate navigating her way through the corporate jungle, to the young mother who is struggling to find her own identity while teaching her children about theirs, to the career woman who wonders if, indeed, men are intimidated by women who achieve too much, to the Empty Nester who wonders where all the years have gone.
Whoever we are and whatever we do, we do have something to contribute to the female collective consciousness here in the Philippines and around the world. And, wherever we are right now, we are always still going somewhere, still journeying through life, still seeking answers from our inner and outer worlds.
In his book Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke wrote, “Live your questions now, and perhaps even without knowing it, you will live along some distant day into your answers."
Here’s wishing everyone a fabulous and fruitful journey through Life. If we don’t ever get to meet in person, then I do hope we’ll at least get to meet through the stories that we will share, the lessons that we will learn, and the dreams that we will weave. Please do feel free to write back and share your thoughts.
~ Niña Terol, 20 January 2007
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