LATEST POSTS

Sometimes the person we are judging is not the only thing worth looking at. We are often certain about what is wrong with other people. It is much harder to become curious about what our reactionis telling us about ourselves. Lately, I have been thinking about selfishness. Not only the selfishness I see in other people, but the selfishness I may carry myself. Sometimes someone does something and my first thought is: How can you be like this? Then I pause. Perhaps it is: What

There is wisdom in knowing when to challenge, when to explain, and when to simply let things be. Image from IMDb Are We Challenging People, or Just Feeding Our Ego? Sometimes we call it honesty, intelligence or debate. But underneath it, there may simply be a desire to prove that we are right. I don’t always know what I am going to write before I write it. I write these things as they come—sometimes messy, sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes without a proper conclusion. I don’

Learning that wisdom is not about escaping life, but understanding how to live it with humility, awareness, and peace. Good day! I just want to share this when there are moments in life that quietly change the way we see everything. Moments where the world suddenly feels deeper, slower, and more connected than before. Sometimes it happens while sitting alone in silence, walking through nature, watching the sky, or simply becoming aware of how small we truly are in this vast u

I’m learning to speak without defending myself in clinical spaces. I used to think I was just “detailed.” That’s the word I used in healthcare settings. It sounded professional. Responsible. Safe. Detailed. Thorough. Context-aware. The kind of person who makes sure nothing is missed, no patient misunderstood, no decision left unclear. But if I’m honest, I wasn’t just adding clinical context. I was adding protection. I remember one afternoon in a staff room in Sweden. Fluoresc

An essay on grief, identity, and the subtle collapse of certainty. We are trained to recognize dramatic grief — tears, visible breakdown, emotional vocabulary that announces itself clearly. But much of grief is structural. You still wake up. You still respond to messages. You still function. From the outside, nothing appears extraordinary. Inside, something foundational has shifted. A miscarriage is a grief of a future. A possibility. A version of life that had already begun

When love, gratitude, birthdays and even dignity come gift-wrapped with a price tag. Every year, like clockwork, love goes on sale. Red hearts appear in January as if affection has a fiscal quarter. Chocolates become emotionally symbolic. Flowers triple in price. Suddenly, devotion must be proven with a receipt. Then comes Christmas — twinkling lights, curated wish lists, “limited edition” joy. New Year’s arrives with fireworks and expensive dinners that promise transformatio

The Corruption Nobody Wants to Name Corruption doesn’t always take money. I stop pretending corruption only exists when someone is arrested. The most effective corruption operating today doesn’t break laws. It breaks trust—and it does so quietly, consistently, and with full institutional approval. It doesn’t hide. It operates in plain sight. Positions are pre-decided. Contracts circulate within the same closed networks. Promotions reward loyalty, not competence. Decisions are

Immigrant Reflections from a Quiet Country No one tells you that Sweden changes you quietly. Not dramatically. Not overnight. It doesn’t announce itself. It happens slowly—somewhere between the early darkness of November and the first unexpected light of spring. In many places, life teaches me to want more. More speed. More success. More noise. More proof that you matter. Sweden teaches me something else. It teaches me enough. Enough silence. Enough space. Enough time to hear

Finding Lightness, Wisdom, and Resilience in the Most Inconvenient Moments How Grief Breaks Us Open, Teaches Us to Bend, and Leads Us Back to Ourselves There are moments in life when you expect to cry — funerals, goodbyes, onions with questionable motives. But when my father passed, years ago, I remember my tears went on strike. People approached me gently, as if I were made of thin glass or possibly malfunctioning. “You’re so strong,” they said. Which was generous, consideri

The Version of Me You Remember No Longer Exists So many people from your past know a version of you that no longer exists anymore. Growth is beautiful... There’s a funny thing I’ve learned about growing as a human: while I’m busy upgrading my inner software, half the people from my past are still running the mental equivalent of my 2012 operating system. And honestly, I can’t blame them. That was the version they downloaded. That was the “me” they interacted with, analyzed,

A Brutal Look at Digitalization, Cashless Control, Screen-Raised Children, and the Slow Death of Common Sense Welcome to the First-World Circus! Ladies and gentlemen, and everyone forced to use BankID just to breathe in Sweden— Let’s talk about this magical thing we worship here: digitalisering. Ah yes, digitalization. The great Swedish religion. The holy path to efficiency, privacy destruction, and the final collapse of common sense. Let me start with digitalization. You kno

What genorosity teach us about ego, humility, and conncetion. You’d think giving and receiving would be simple — two sides of a warm human coin. You give, I receive, everyone feels good, and the moral of the story writes itself. But no. Somewhere between offering someone the last slice of pizza and pretending you don’t really want it, things get complicated. I’ve always prided myself on being a “giver.” You know, I’m the kind of person who used to say things like: “No, no, I

Offline is the new luxury, but anonymity is the UPGRADE Welcome to the age where privacy is considered suspicious, opinions are performance art, and oversharing is practically a moral duty. Somewhere between “follow me” and “look at me,” we misplaced the joy of just being. Enter anonymity — the world’s most underrated luxury. It is not hiding; it’s strategic invisibility. It’s what happens when you realize that the algorithm can’t track what it can’t tag. While everyone else

You were born to tell stories. Don’t bury that. Don’t betray that. I just returned from Asia, my home, my heartbeat, my beginning. After a much-needed retreat, I flew back to Sweden. Sweden is clean, safe, structured — a place many of my kababayan dream of moving to. And yet, here I am, aching. Since I returned, I’ve been caught in a quiet chaos inside me. A question I can’t seem to shake: Do I go back to work and continue the grind— or do I finally take writing seriously, th

Just ME Trying to Be Brave While My Inner Chicken Screams I have always been scared of the unknown. Not the “boo!” Halloween kind of scared — that’s predictable. I’m talking about the kind of fear that lives in your stomach, quietly chewing on your confidence while your brain keeps whispering, What if it all goes wrong? And yet… for reasons I can’t fully explain, I keep opening the door when the unknown knocks. It’s like that friend who never texts before showing up, but you

“A satisfied life is better than a successful life. Because success is measured by others, but satisfaction is measured by our own soul, mind, and heart.” I recently stumbled upon a quote that hit me right in the existential liver: “A satisfied life is better than a successful life. Because success is measured by others, but satisfaction is measured by our own soul, mind, and heart.” Yeah. Right? Who wrote this? No clue. Probably someone with a full belly and zero student loa

Turning Inner Tension into Insight, Healing, and Inspired Living Ego is the mind’s unofficial spokesperson—never elected, rarely qualified, yet always ready to deliver a press conference. It builds a personality out of stories, assumptions, and remembered applause, then guards that creation as if it were a priceless artifact. Its intentions are protective, but its methods often resemble a soap opera with a very dramatic lead. Thanks for reading! This post is public so feel fr

I smile outside, but silent storms inside... There are days when I wake up and have to recalibrate which version of myself is expected to show up. The one who dreams in Tagalog, shops in Swedish, and overthinks in English. It’s a carousel of selves, spinning so fast that even I forget who’s who sometimes. I used to think speaking three languages was a flex—something I’d wear like a badge of global sophistication. But now, it just feels like a reminder that I don’t fully belon