Finding Home

There are a few good moments in life. Most of them often take me by surprise such as the husband casually narrating how he found some secret nature spot unbeknownst to most people but popular to those who seek the simplicity of silence and privacy. And him taking me there not telling me there was a short steep hike of which I was relatively unprepared for before reaching the said beauty.  Or a discovery of genuine connection with a stranger now a friend, finding common ground despite the disparity of life experiences, upbringing, places of origin, profession and so many other elements. And realizing how these do not matter. Understanding that what matters more is at that point in time, the presence of reciprocity was apparent. Authentic, significant reciprocity. One I have been seeking for the last 18 years. I read somewhere how a woman over forty is said to be formidable mainly because the last of her superficial concerns fly out the window. Of course, the actual wording is more color

         A friend of ours recently moved abroad. After a few weeks of settling in, he shared a photo where he was standing on top of a mountain, his back turned away from the camera. He was facing the majestic sky, translucent blue, clouds glistening from the sun behind. And spread out in front of him was the landscape of earth, trees,  shadows and shapes of more magnificent mountains. I told him it looked like he had been there all his life.               Starting over. These two words have been running through my mind lately. What does it really mean? Is it carrying a huge luggage of a life to a different zip code? Is it ridding oneself of any material trappings reminding one of the old life? Is it cutting off ties that no longer serve you? Is it literally leaving to arrive at some place new? Is it a necessary severing of relationships in order to build, this time, more meaningful and authentic ones? My meditation teacher says constantly I can start fresh at any given moment in the p

  October 13, 2021 The sun came out today after days of relentless rain.   La Nina all throughout October, our weather bureau said. But of course, nature follows its own course. When the weather app says 100% chance of precipitation, the clouds decide to dissipate. So in these pockets of unexpected goodness, my feet are quick to rid of slippers and step onto still dewy grass, basking my body in delicious sunshine knowing it will not last for long. Nothing does, after all. Nothing ever does. Impermanence. Anitya in Sanskrit. Anicca in Pali. A lifelong practice consisting of many, many trials and errors. Ephemeral, fleeting, and transient are just few of words that shape this reality. My mother died last year. And even if after her stroke, my brother already prepared me for the worst, when it finally happened, her passing, it hit me like a tidal wave. I liken it to such because just like surfing, one is obviously well aware of how waves are ever present. Depending on the time of ye