Finding Home

Devotion A one-word intention to nurture, nourish, show tenderness to heal the places long buried and those that can be seen in the full light of day to listen to the body and heed what it needs-- to rest when it needs to to move when it must to let it breathe, to let it breathe to allow the mind's dust to settle fully to gravity to let its nature come into fullness to not resist, to not impede knowing full well everything is passing to hear the heart's beat to open it and see the beauty as it is, it's story of pain, of bravery, of fear, of love of surrender to welcome it into an embrace of healing transformative, redemptive Devotion, an intention, one word, yet an honoring of multitudes of body of mind of  heart of this given and gifted life. January 29, 2023, Sunday  In 2023, my one word intention for the year was devotion. Everyday, I reminded myself of it. Especially when the times became quite rough and even breathing was hard to do, I brought to mind my intention, and

  "Find your drishti," teachers say when we execute standing balance poses. Finding a fixed point helps the body's vestibular system to stabilise. What is my fixed point? What holds me together when even the world as I know it is falling apart? I asked myself these questions as I did my personal practice today. I took my time in going through the steps of the Tree pose, Bhagirathasana, planting my foot firmly onto the mat, activating my entire leg, all the while going into a self-inquiry on my own anchor. I could not find immediate answers. Eventually it emerged. My grounding force, my fixed point has always been my Mother's prayers. Always has been. Always will be. Even beyond the grave. I placed my foot onto the inner thigh of my other leg and situated my hands in Anjali Mudra, prayer hands, embodying my mother's fervent prayers for me, slowly lifting my prayer hands overhead for the full expression. And I held my center for the longest time since I began the

 Dear You,      I know some days are just unbearable, intolerable, harder than others and downright ugly. When your mind is on its usual tirade ranting like a mad man magnifying the many ways you failed at well, pretty much anything. When your heart just can't take it anymore and you have no platitudes left to soothe your soul. But there is one thing you can do. Or maybe two. Pause in your hurried, seemingly unstoppable tracks of the runaway train of your mind. Close your eyes. Breathe. All the way down to your gut. Hold your breath for a moment. Then let go slowly. Release everything that you could ever think of with that exhale. Repeat as many times as necessary. And when you're ready to open your eyes, do so. Then look around. Look for one thing that is beautiful. Or simply not ugly to look at. The sun shining through that window, clear, blue skies, your child's smile, flowers that refuse to die.  Or maybe if you're ready, look in the mirror. See one thing that lifts

     "Because home, family, and love are always familiar."      Reading La Maison Punjab 's backstory gives depth to my personal experience of the place that I can only describe as a space of intimacy, one where real conversations transpire enveloped in a gastronomical experience that is nourishment to the visual, tactile, olfactory and of course gustatory sense. Traveling 100 kilometers from my home in Ormoc to Tacloban City to take part in the offering Chef Sandeep and Chef Yan extends is a journey that is certainly worthwhile.       We spend our whole lives trying to find home in people, places, experiences, and yes, food. Our definition of home shifts and transforms through the different timelines of our lives. I read recently Derek Walcott's Love After Love. Essentially it reminds us how most if not all of us after a long journey to faraway lands, an exile if you will, return to the place we have abandoned in this quest for meaning. Only to realise that while it

        In  August of 2023 I was invited to be one of the contributing authors of a Poetry Anthology by the Breathworks Community of Practice in the UK. This is a Mindfulness Based community founded by Vidyamala Burch, OBE and fortified by a community of individuals practicing Mindfulness and providing safe spaces for each other through the sharing of poetry, experiences and participating together in Mindfulness sessions and programs.     Poetry Fest '23 was originally an online Poetry Reading Fundraising event held in July whose participants included community members who live with pain and illness and the poetry revolved around how they have dealt with pain and illness every day and rose above it with strength and courage. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to join the event, but they invited me nonetheless to contribute to the collection . On December 8, 2023, the book was finally published. And I couldn't be more filled with joy and humbled by the honor and privilege of bei

"Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy."  -Pema Chödrön  

Let me re-member my mind  back to my body Let me forgive myself for losing ground thinking life is  up there, elsewhere When undoubtedly it is here in this body Where breath resides Where rest is waiting Where clarity is found Let me remember to breathe in deeply and breath out With the utmost care In this body is  Where life is admonishing constantly that I am  more than the wars  my mind has fought I am more than the losses It has rendered I am more and beyond its provocations When I re-member my mind Back to my body I restore ground, find respite leading me to the answer which Always is Be here, be still, And be healed.