i am woman, hear me rawr!

Over the past month or so I’ve been catching myself getting extremely riled up while driving. It’s like my safe little bubble (a.k.a. my car) is no longer a safe place. Now I find myself feeling restless and uncomfortable behind the wheel, and out of sheer frustration, I often catch myself on the verge of tears. I don’t really know where it is coming from, I just know I feel like my emotions are getting the better of me lately. I’m grateful for what I have learned through yoga though, because it always reminds me to just breathe and let it be. Maybe I should get one of those Gears of War 3 xbox 360 games to release all my pent up emotions…hehe.

Sigh. I wish, however, that these feelings go away soon.

Bookmark It

I don’t often click on news links posted on Facebook, especially when it comes to political posts, but for some reason, when I saw this link posted by Blog Watch, I found myself compelled to click it.

Beyond the content of the article, something Raissa Robles shared on her post hit home hard to me. It read:

All healers are wounded healers, as Henri Nouwen said so well. There is no other kind. In fact, you are often most gifted to heal others precisely where you yourself were wounded or wounded others.

You learn to salve the wounds of others by knowing and remembering how much it hurts to hurt. Often this memory comes from the realization of your past smallness and immaturity, your selfishness, your false victimhood, and your cruel victimization of others. It is often painful to recall or admit, yet this is also the grace of lamenting and grieving over how we have hurt others.

I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it for now, or I don’t even wanna try to figure it out. All I know is that there’s gotta be a reason why I found myself randomly reading the news right? I’ll let that sit with me tonight.

If you want to read the full context of that quote, please check out Ms. Robles’ article here.

Bookmark It

I guess I should be grateful that my Joe has discovered a new habit.

After his chewing stage, yes that phase which left my phone, my camera case, the wires of my iPad charger and the ones on the speakers for computer use, and probably eight pairs of shoes and a handful of pencils and crayons damaged beyond imagination, he has finally shifted to a new fascination…

drinking from the toilet.

Gah. Save me from this dog.

Bookmark It

Mwahahaha….

When I started blogging I never really categorized myself as any type of blogger. If ever, I would have called myself the melodramatic personal blogger, but I never really had a specific niche for my sites. This is why I was quite pleasantly surprised to receive invitations for several beauty events in the next two weeks! Yey One of the events is for an underwear brand (hmmmm….I wonder if they’ll showcase wedding night lingerie that I can purchase for my cousin’s upcoming bridal shower hahaha) and the other is one of those fitness spas. Exciting, exciting. Call me mababaw but it sure is exciting to have the opportunity to expand my blogging network

Bookmark It

The other day I got asked the same question again…

Don’t you wanna teach yoga?

Um…hello? Me??? Seriously though, since I have started my journey down this yogic path, I have been asked that question a total of 6 times already by different people, including my yoga teachers. I do love yoga to bits but I don’t think I can ever teach it. I did joke once, however (at the height of my dreams of Paris) that maybe I can teach yoga at the top of the Eiffel Tower (well, as long as there is anair ambulance service available for if I fall off haha!).

Seriously though, I don’t think I’d give any credibility to the art of teaching yoga. For one, I can barely balance on one foot, right? Secondly, I’m shy!!! And anxious. I don’t think I’d be able to lead a group towards relaxation because I’d be too anxious myself. Hehe.

But as for the practice of yoga, I’d do it everyday. Maybe one day things will change…let’s see

Bookmark It

I wonder if there is an expiration date to emotions and memories. If, perhaps, one day I will wake up and realize that what I feel, both good and bad, is suddenly gone, like it just expired and time was up. Does it really end, or does it just change and evolve into something else?

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I can’t seem to fathom how memories can just fade away. Maybe it’s because I am such an intense feeler or perhaps it’s because I have been bestowed (I don’t know if I can call it blessed or cursed) with an exceptional memory for details. I remember the fullness of experiences, from the physical, to the emotions attached to it, and even the little nuances of the situation. People have told me I must learn to compartmentalize or to box things up, but for the life of me, I don’t know how. I want to, but I can’t. I do let go, at least I try to, but the memory just haunts me.

Today I am reminded of that dark nights journey I took not too long ago…four years today to be exact. I need not dig up my old blog posts about it and I have (as suggested to me once) gotten rid of my journals that documented that journey, but I remember every moment of it. And I am consumed by the feeling it brings me.

The one thing, I guess, I often forget, is the lessons I learn from these experiences. Maybe it’s because the memories and emotions become too overwhelming. Or too painful. Or too joyful for that matter. And because of that, I find myself pushing buttons or getting my foot in my mouth.

What’s that story about the moth and the flame? Yeah, that’s kinda like me. I remember how enthralling the flame is. I remember how painful it is to get burnt. I remember how captivating it is to play the edge. And so I do. Then I forget to be mindful. As a result, I end up singed all over again, this time with a new set of memories and emotions to haunt me.

So again I ask, will it ever expire? One day can I can look back and feel nothing at all anymore…no twinge of sadness or regret, no dashed hopes or nostalgia, and no sudden pang of owie-ness?

I think I need a box. A big giant one. But then again…will boxing it up actually make it stop existing? Sigh.

Bookmark It

One of my most favorite things to do is to go the beach alone. If ever I’d have company, it would be Bubba. But being alone in the beach, just sitting under the sun and watching the water and just listening to the quiet in my head, has been the most wonderful thing I have discovered over the past three or four years.

Lately, since I have limited time and a not-so-flexible budget, I have learned to substitute my solo beach trip to random me dates. At first I would go out of my way to go to places where there wouldn’t be too many people, after all, asking for a table for one in a restaurant usually raises a few eyebrows. But I have learned to enjoy it quite a bit. Sometimes I go on a margarita me date, or perhaps sit in Bag of Beans with just my sketchpad and some pencils, and so on and so forth.

Yesterday, however, I had the ultimate me date thus far….I caught my favorite singer’s concert on my own. It was a strange feeling at first, admittedly, and I came really, really close to not doing it but a friend of mine convinced me to go and she went on to say it would be quite liberating to actually do that. And she was right

Sure it would have been more fun to have had a friend along, but I realized that if I didn’t go and missed out on the concert (which I PRAYED for for SOOOO long!) that would make me more of a loser than having to have gone alone, right? It was a blast

I’ve written about Lenka several times already and in those posts I said that her music is just so happy and bubbly and you can’t help but smile when you hear it. Yes, even the songs that are kinda “sad” sound very, very optimistic and cheery.

So last night was an ultimate challenge thus far and I must say, it was well worth it. Happy happy joy joy.

Oh, and I have a new favorite song

Bookmark It

The only thing that I can think of to explain my crazy little Joe’s behavior is that he’s discombobulated. Either that or he’s just plain old stoopid. Har.

Seriously….my Bubba never gave me this much trouble. In the last three weeks or so look what he’s chewed on:

Let’s not forget the pair of Havianas, the red shoes, and x number of pencils he has chewed on. Oh…and my leggings that I went to school with that had holes in them apparently. Duh.

Today he bit of Baby Jesus’ head from our little altar. Sigh. Hehe.

I got to thinking why he seems so hard to train, or perhaps where in the process I am going wrong in housebreaking him. Up to now, he still is minimally housebroken and he chews on EVERYTHING.

My mom says I have to discipline him more consistently. The thing is, I DO! Every time I catch him doing something like chew on my phone or nibble on wires, I spank him and punish him. The thing is I think I give him mixed signals. After I scold him, I give him a bit of a punishment and then later on, I give him something to chew on, like a chew toy or the like. Maybe he’s not getting the idea that there are some things that CAN be chewed on and others that CANNOT be chewed on.

Maybe because I allow him to chew on them in the first place, he thinks the act is okay.Thus I place him in a state of discombobulation…on one hand I say no but on the other, I say yes. Ewan. Basta all I know is that I don’t know what to do right now   Send me Cesar Milan please.

Bookmark It