Fortunate Life

Today, while scrolling through my feed, I came across a video about The Top Five Regrets of the Dying by Bronnie Ware. I have seen this list before but for some reason, seeing it today felt different. Maybe it is because I am now fifty and life looks and feels more real. I know that time moves in one direction and I am not getting any younger. I know that one day I will also leave this world and the thought stayed with me longer than expected. There are still so many things I have not done. So many dreams I postponed. So many moments I let pass because I was busy or afraid or unsure. That is why the video resonated with me. It felt like someone gently tapping my shoulder reminding me that I still have time to choose differently. Here are the five regrets Bronnie Ware heard in her years as a palliative care nurse. As I reflect on them, I realize they are not just regrets from people at the end of life. They are guidance for those of us still living. I wish I had lived a life true to mys...

This morning I sat with my coffee and watched the light slowly fill the room. I noticed how peaceful everything felt. Quiet. Uncomplicated. And I realized that the only time my life feels heavy is when my mind starts wrestling with things that are outside my control. It is almost embarrassing how often I do this. I replay conversations in my head. I wonder what people are thinking about me. I try to guess outcomes. I try to shape situations that are clearly not mine to fix. I hold on to timelines that do not belong to me. And every time I do this, I lose my peace. I am learning that there is a boundary in life. A simple invisible line. On one side are the things I can influence. My attitude. My choices. My reactions. My habits. My words. On the other side are the things that are none of my business. How people behave. What they choose to love or neglect. What they give. What they withhold. The pace of life. The unpredictability of the world. And yet, I still find myself crossing tha...

  While browsing Facebook, a short reel appeared on my feed. It was Tim Minchin giving a graduation speech, and somehow his words stayed with me long after the video ended. It resonated with me in a way I did not expect. So I thought I would share it here, in case someone else needs these reminders today. Every now and then, someone gives a speech that does not just entertain but quietly rearranges something inside us. Minchin’s words are blunt, warm, funny, and surprisingly comforting. They remind us that life is not a straight line and we do not need to pressure ourselves into knowing exactly where we are going. Here are the nine lessons from his speech, shared in a way that helps us reflect on our own little journeys. You do not need to have a grand dream For most of our lives, we were told to “dream big” as if having one huge clear dream is the only way to succeed. But Minchin reminds us that it is perfectly fine to be micro ambitious. Focus on the small task in front of yo...

Today I learned something about myself. Or maybe it is something that has been quietly growing inside me for a long time. I am becoming someone who pauses. Someone who does not let every emotion spill out the moment it arrives. Someone who chooses their response instead of letting reactions take over. It still feels a little strange to admit this, because I have never been the overly reactive type. I rarely say things I do not mean. I rarely send messages I later regret. I am usually careful, even when I am hurting. But in the past, my emotions would stir so strongly inside me that I could feel the urge to respond quickly, as if speaking immediately could save me from misunderstanding or disappointment. Those were the moments when I wished I had given myself more time to breathe, because clarity always arrives after the first wave of emotion. Stoicism teaches the value of the pause. That small moment between stimulus and response. That breath. That quiet space where the heart softens...

Today I learned something simple but important. I realized how often I drift away from myself without even noticing it. It happens quietly, almost gently. I shift my focus to what other people think. I adjust my tone to make someone comfortable. I soften my boundaries to keep the peace. I silence what I truly feel so I do not create conflict or appear difficult. I do not do these things out of weakness. I do them because I care deeply. I pay attention. I value harmony. I want connections to feel safe, warm, and steady. But sometimes, in my effort to be gentle to others, I forget to be gentle to myself. The Stoics teach that we should guard our inner peace the way we guard something priceless. They remind us that the world will always have noise, expectations, and opinions, but our inner self is something we can always return to. Today I thought about that. How many times have I abandoned myself just to be understood. How many times have I minimized my own feelings just so someone els...

Today felt like one of those quiet turning point days. Nothing dramatic happened. No big life event. No sudden revelation from the sky. But something inside me loosened, something I had been gripping too tightly without even noticing it. It is strange how the things we hold on to the hardest are usually the things we were never meant to keep. People. Expectations. Old versions of ourselves. The idea of how something should have been. The fantasy of how someone should show up for us. The timeline we imagined our life would follow. I do this sometimes. I cling to what feels familiar even when it no longer feels right. I replay the same memories. I revisit moments that hurt me. I hold on to the invisible thread connecting me to people who have already walked ahead without me. It is not because I am weak. It is just because my heart remembers deeply. But today I woke up feeling a quiet shift inside me. Maybe it is the Stoic principle sinking in. Maybe it is simply maturity. Maybe it is ...

Today I found myself thinking about the things in my life that feel heavy. Not the dramatic ones, just the quiet struggles that sit in the background. The small disappointments. The unspoken worries. The responsibilities that stretch me. The moments when I feel unsure of myself. I realized how easy it is to treat these moments as burdens, as proof that something is wrong, as signs that I am falling behind. But this morning, while brushing my hair, a thought came to me so softly that it almost felt like someone whispered it into my mind. What if this is training. Not punishment. Not failure. Not chaos. Just training. I paused and let that idea settle. Life has a way of placing us in situations that we did not ask for but somehow need. The challenges that frustrate me are often the ones that shape me. The moments that disappoint me are usually the ones that push me closer to who I am becoming. I started to see my struggles through a different lens, not as obstacles but as exercises. A...

There are times when my emotions feel like a tidal wave—overwhelming, relentless, and impossible to control. Even though I know I am blessed with a loving family and friends who care about me, there are moments when I feel deeply alone. Frustration builds up inside me over the things I cannot achieve or the dreams that seem just out of reach. And yet, I often hesitate to share these feelings with the people around me. Why? Because my struggles feel petty compared to theirs. I don’t want to burden them. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. Society often teaches us that gratitude should cancel out emotional pain. “You’re lucky, so you shouldn’t feel depressed,” they say. “You’re loved, so why would you feel unseen?” But feelings don’t follow logic. Emotions are not about fairness—they are about human experience. And sometimes, our minds get caught in loops of negativity that feel impossible to break. For me, these moments are even more complicated because I notice how much my body and min...

Today felt like one long lesson in acceptance. Not the dramatic kind, not the painful kind, but the quiet, subtle kind that happens in the background of an ordinary day. The kind that whispers instead of demands. The kind that slowly reshapes the way you see yourself and the world. I have always struggled with acceptance, even if I do not admit it out loud. I grew up believing that if I tried hard enough, if I cared enough, if I loved enough, if I held on tightly enough, life would meet me halfway. People would stay. Situations would work out. Things would go the way I imagined. But life has a softness and a wildness of its own. It moves differently than my expectations. It bends, shifts, surprises, disappoints, and heals in its own timing. And acceptance means choosing to stop fighting that. This morning, while I was getting ready, I suddenly felt that old familiar heaviness in my chest. A quiet resistance. My mind wanted things to be different. I wanted someone to behave different...

Today I woke up with a heaviness that I could not explain. It was not sadness exactly. It was not fear either. It was something quieter, something softer, like a fog sitting inside my chest. For a moment I almost let it decide what kind of day I would have. Almost. But I remembered something I wrote before. Something I am trying to practice, even on the days when I feel fragile. The reminder that emotions are visitors. They come, they stay for a while, and eventually they leave. They are allowed to exist, but they are not allowed to rule me. So I sat still for a bit and just observed what I was feeling. No judgment. No forcing it away. I simply said to myself, This is what my body is feeling right now, not who I am. It sounds simple, but it took me years to understand this. For so long I thought my emotions were the truth. If I felt rejected, then it meant I was not enough. If I felt anxious, it meant something bad was about to happen. If I felt lonely, it meant I was unlovable. I g...

Have you ever been surrounded by people, yet felt completely alone? Maybe you were at a party, in a meeting, or even just in a crowded café, and despite the chatter and activity around you, a sense of isolation crept in. If you’ve experienced this, let me assure you: it doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you. I recently felt this while in Siargao with friends. We had been partying and drinking for several nights, enjoying the island, letting loose, and having fun. But during our last night, in a crowded sports bar, I suddenly felt overwhelmed. Most of the people around us were foreigners and men. Out of all the tables, there were only two Filipino tables, including ours. The bar was lively—people playing pool, cheering at a game on the TV, drinks flowing on every table. My friends and I were playing cards, trying to enjoy ourselves—but despite all the noise and activity, I felt disconnected, almost invisible in the crowd. Psychologist Rea Villa explains that feeling lonely in...

This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.

This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.

This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.

  This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.

This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.

This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.

  This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.

This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.

This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection.