Podcaster era

 So I started a podcast. It’s an attempt to empty my mind of thoughts that consume most of my day.

Before this, I had no experience speaking into a microphone with a modulated voice. I always felt my voice sounded too crisp for public speaking, let alone for recording. Still, I wanted to try something new and have a platform to share my thoughts, so I gave it a go.

I love listening to podcasts. I get inspiration from the words and statements I hear. When Mel Robbins says, “Let them then, let me,” I pondered on it earnestly.

Mel Robbins said there are two steps: First, let them. Let people have opinions about you, never clap, exclude, or ignore you. Let them because that’s who they are.

Then the most important and probably the hardest step is to let me. Let me take the power to control my thoughts. Let me choose peace. Let me accept. Let me let go.

Hearing this, I had a renewed sense of vitality. It gave me the power to own my story.

Initially, I had planned to release an episode weekly. I might be too ambitious because with a full-time job, a desperate attempt for a fitness routine, and a sure slot for my favourite kdramas, I have no space and time to do recordings, not to mention laborious edits.

“When’s the next episode?” a friend curiously asked.

“Wait, what? You listened?” I said, shockingly.

“Of course, it’s not just you who’s in the same boat with this process of becoming!”, he replied.

Apparently, we’re on this train together. The train keeps moving, it’s going through loops and turns. It’s showing the sunny terrains outside its windows, and then all of a sudden, a pitch black tunnel. We’re anticipating the light at the end. We feel something we couldn’t even name. We’re carrying ourselves to an abyss only we can hope and pray for.

I started this podcast as a way to face my thoughts alongside my truths. While my stand could change anytime, I feel that living in the moment means having the capacity to take things as they are.

“Do I sound like a life coach?” I asked.

“No, you sound so real and confused”, another friend notes.

I don’t know if I can keep this podcast thing up. I’m not in it for the analytics but for the meaning it may contribute.

Just like letting them and letting me, the podcast is a reminder that while we sometimes think that we’re alone in the madness that our lives bring, somehow, somewhere, there’s also one soul who completely gets us.

At this point, that’s more than enough. As my podcast closing line says, stay soft, stay curious, and don’t let anyone rush your becoming.

We’re in this together.

Breakdown, let's break it down

Two days after my parents left for the Philippines after a five-month visit, I got a text from a friend,

“I’m meeting X’s friend.”

It seems harmless and unsuspecting at first. I even laughed. I was not sure who X was, so I asked, Who’s X? And she replied, X, our friend. (Well, technically, X is my long-time friend from school whom I introduced to her.)    

When she clarified what was happening, I felt unsettled. I realized that while others seem to move forward, I am the friend who stays the same. The force of this realization was overwhelming.

If there is some metamorphosis to be had, I would have taken it gladly. But I didn’t. I was thrown back in time, where I just grew complacent. With my relationships, my behaviours, and my sense of happiness.

The realization shook me. The question echoed in my mind: 'How do you take space?' 

I wondered if it meant living boldly or shrinking to stay safe. I began to see that these choices defined how I interact with others and with myself.

For the longest time, I was doing the latter. I was afraid to hold so much space and left myself in a box. I welcomed people, supported them, gave them all the love I could, yet I gave little to myself. It made me feel small. I held space for people to be themselves, which eventually held me back from being mine.

It’s a sunny September. The sun glaring brightly outside was a bitter contrast to how I was feeling. 

For the first time in my life, I got a complete breakdown. 

I cried countless tears for the times I let myself down. For the times I’ve chosen other people’s needs before mine. For the times I may have a shot at happiness, but choose to be just okay. For those times that I ruined bridges because I was completely focused on an alley. I wailed at the thought that I could never blame anyone for feeling this way, because I brought it upon myself.

I’m no stranger to uprooting and rerouting. For fudge’s sake, it’s my second! And yet, I’m still doing the same things I’ve always wanted to break free from. Friends would tell me, “You’re so brave,” yet “Am I really?” When I hang with the same people, drift to the same habits, and limit myself to preconceived notions?

“What’s your greatest fear?”

My response always changes with time. But what seems to be more poignant is this: being alone. I always wondered what makes me fear being alone. Is it really feeling lonely, or is it the idea that I’m always with someone? And being alone somehow feels strange?

It is a given that we fear the inevitable, the unknown, the variable that comes in the in-between, but more than that, I fear for the familiar. I feared losing people I love, relationships going sour, love turning to indifference, because when you think about it, what makes you happy right now is what you have. And what makes you sad is losing a bit of this familiarity.

Crashing like that woke me. 

The reason I’ve wanted to move abroad has got to do with economics, but more than that, it’s about freedom. Of attempting to attain the impossible. But by the looks of it, I am nowhere near my goal. If I keep this up, I may never truly have the chance to change my path.

I no longer want to be trapped by my old patterns. I want to honor my own needs and rebuild myself into someone I aspire to be. My breakdown became a chance to start again.

Free from guilt this time.

Alrighty, Anxiety

Anxiety is a debilitating illness. It can take you from hero to zero in an instant.

Unpacking its root causes has always been a challenge. A negative thought, a bizarre expression, or even a small comment can shift my mood. And when it does, sleep becomes elusive.

I remind myself not to believe every thought I have. For example, when someone seems to be lying through their teeth, my mind spirals into the situation. I jump to conclusions and let my emotions steer my decisions.

Understanding why I feel anxious has been difficult. Sometimes, the steps I take are drastic - like shutting people out.

I’ve talked to friends about it. But when I do, I always downplay what I’m truly feeling. What sounds like a firm “I’m okay” often masks a long night spent battling my thoughts. How do you articulate what you’re really feeling when your mind is flooded with horrible possibilities?

What calms me most is writing. Writing about why I feel what I feel. Writing even the deepest and most complicated parts of my tangled thoughts. I’ve tried to identify my triggers - and it always comes back to the future. There’s one specific topic that intensifies the anxiety. Waiting is slowly killing me.

Yet part of me resists the idea. Am I placing my sense of satisfaction in someone else’s hands? Why wait to feel fulfilled? Isn’t living on my own terms the real goal? Why seek something else when I already have so much?

I feel like for someone who seems to have it all, I keep focusing on what is missing.

I don’t know. Maybe I need to broaden my perspective. Sometimes, the problems I’m facing are just products of an idle mind.

Maybe writing alone isn’t enough. Maybe leaning on just a few people isn’t the answer - it builds walls. Maybe venturing out into the world, meeting more people, and observing how they live could give me a more holistic view of the life I’m shaping. Maybe learning to be curious - to listen, to care, to be present - could ease the anxiety, not by erasing it, but by giving it context. 

Maybe anxiety isn’t the true enemy, since it’s always been part of me. Maybe it’s teaching me something greater - not just how to survive, but how to face the pitfalls and become the hero of my own story.

The "Just" to Happiness

Today’s Morning Question: “What Are You Grateful For?”

Every meeting I join starts with a curveball - some unexpected, often thought-provoking question. Today’s was: “What are you grateful for this morning?”

One by one, we took turns. Someone shared, “I’m grateful for my partner and my dog - for their love, support, and the happiness they bring me.”

I nodded instinctively and thought, “Of course!” But then, my mind (being its usual overthinking self) wandered off into deeper waters.

What does it take to be happy?

That question took me back to something I read online. A dad said he didn’t want to teach his kid to pursue happiness because - get this - it might ruin him. Naturally, my first reaction was: What the heck? Why?!

Then I read further.

He wasn’t against happiness itself. He just didn’t want his child to become obsessed with the idea that life is supposed to be happy all the time. Because it’s not. And believing that it is? That can be dangerous.

And honestly, that hit differently. Because the younger me would have scoffed. The younger me believed happiness was everything. Why bother with life if you’re not chasing that buzz, that spark, that constant sunshine?

But the current me (the one who’s been through a few storms, detours, and existential spirals) knows better. Or at least, knows more.

Happiness, I’ve come to realize, isn’t a neon sign at the end of the road. It’s more like soft glimmers along the way. It’s not a fixed state, not a trophy. It’s fluid, messy, fleeting, beautiful. And wildly personal.

To some, happiness is a big, booming crescendo - the proposal, the promotion, the dream vacation. To others, it’s simply being able to breathe through the day. For many, it’s being surrounded by people who see you, accept you, and love you anyway.

And every version is valid.

But for me? I’ve stopped chasing happiness like it’s a destination. Instead, I try to notice it - where I am. Sometimes, happiness looks like a slow morning. Other times, it’s laughing too hard at a dumb meme. Or having a conversation that’s real and raw and doesn’t require me to perform.

Because honestly? I don't want to chase happiness like it’s something out there. I want to live my emotions as they come. If I’m sad, let me be sad. If I’m hurt, let me feel it. I don’t want to slap on a smile to meet some unrealistic standard of being “okay all the time.”

The worst kind of pretending is pretending you’re happy when you’re anything but.

We often think happiness comes with conditions:

I’ll be happy if I get that job.
I’ll be happy when I find “the one.”
I’ll be happy once I figure it all out.

But what if we flipped the script?

What if happiness didn’t need a reason?

What if it sounded like:

“I’m happy just because.”
“I’m happy right here.”
“I’m happy in the middle of figuring it out.”

Now that feels real.

So today, when I was asked what I’m grateful for... I think the deeper answer is this: I’m grateful for the awareness that I don’t need to chase happiness. I just need to be.

Oh March!

March represents a lot of things to me.

I’d like to break the cycle but maybe it’s part of my process. Once a year, I am challenged mentally. LOL

Since I am here and since I am feeling this way – the birthday blues – I’d just take this chance to unpack my messy head. It is only in breaking down this overwhelming, interwoven, depressing, unpleasant thoughts occupying my time nowadays that I get to see the bigger picture, hopefully.

First, of loneliness. The more I accommodate the thought, the more it gets stronger. My initial resolve is to move somewhere. Well, I am somewhere. So clearly, this isn’t a question of distance but of assimilation. Of getting myself out there. Of meeting people and knowing them – deeply, openly, and allowing them to also see me.  

Second, of uncertainty. I’ve always wanted to have a family of my own. Thinking about ageing and being unhitched with no viable prospect plus your ovaries ticking… always weighed me down. Don’t get me wrong… it’s not that I’ve got no one telling me they like or has fallen for me… but why can’t I tell them, “Ditto”? I’m on a deadline but here I am, still feeling nothing. Is my heart dead?

Third, of ageing. I know not everyone can reach this age. I am grateful but if I’d be honest, it also scares me. I’m scared to grow old and alone. I’m scared to miss out moments with my loved ones because as I age, they do, too. If I’d be super honest, I’m scared of the imminent possibility of mortality.

Fourth, of poverty. As I age, my expectation for financial stability is something that should be more concrete. It is having solid investments, having the ability to afford comfort not just for myself but for my loved ones and having the capacity to choose. Afterall, that’s what money can buy, freedom – to choose, to have more time, to create opportunities.

Lastly, of relationships. I’ve lost friendships, connections, and communications along the way. I’ve been so busy building my life all over again that I did not have the capacity to check on my people. I’m never stellar in multitasking. I do well when I focus my energy on one thing and move on to another after. I don’t know if it’s even a narrative of ‘me leaving them’ or ‘them leaving me’, but I’m emotional when I think about them. As I age, my circle grew small, and it gets smaller!

When these thoughts hit me at once, it’s like my sanity just says bye! I don’t even know how I truly feel – scared, lonely, grateful, worried, depressed, hopeful, happy? I don’t know. It’s like a roller coaster of emotions. I’m like lifted to the highs only to be dropped so low.

Oh March! But as I’ve always said, “I’ll be alright”. 

In all of these, I’ve never been abandoned by my God and to me, it’s the only comfort that I need. But of course, your “tara kape” is also a good idea. 😊