On 2015 and Being Home

There are many, many times my heart cried out for saltwater, tree-fringed huts and roads, and the fragrant scent of unfamiliar territory. And many times, I simply stayed put. When I did travel, often it was only for family or work. It wasn’t what I wanted initially, but as the stars would have it, it was what was necessary.

Movement is liberating and romantic.There’s nothing more exhilarating than going out of your comfort zone and treading someone else’s. But sometimes I find when I move so much, I don’t hear anything else but my desire to move.

And of course, you have to be able to afford moving so often – an opportunity that, realistically speaking, is narrower for solo-income families.

Most importantly, there’s the inherent call of home.

Much as I love seeking the new and the arbitrary, a nomadic lifestyle doesn’t suit me. Being anchored in one place is something I crave. I love the excitement and madness that accompany the desire to be jetted elsewhere – the research, the booking, the packing- after a long house arrest;

the post-vacation romance of coming home – to thrilled cats and a dog, to the familiar scent of a house unoccupied for days, to a suking sari-sari store, to doing the laundry, to a window fronting a creek and indigenous shrubs, to a hot cuppa while beating deadlines on my old desk with Lia playing in the periphery.

2015 offered me that. It gave me the opportunity to be still for extended periods of time so I can get my life back on track. So that I can appreciate the peace and freedom that come with stillness.

If I didn’t consciously slow down movement, I would have not been as comfortable with the idea that it’s okay not to get away because it is the norm. That sometimes moving away isn’t the only way to find a piece of soul, a piece of home. That maybe home shouldn’t be something to constantly seek but something to constantly carry.

Home is the anchor that holds all transient retreats. Home is peeling myself bare and sharing stories. Home is the warm conversations with people I meet on the road. Home is being with my daughter, wherever life buoys us.

Pico Iyer said, “Home is not just a place where you sleep. It’s a place where you stand.”

At this moment, my feet are standing right where they ought to be.

That thunderous Papal Visit

January’s first journey was the very definition
of crazy. I woke up 6am and commuted all the way to Manila, carried an 11-kilogram toddler on my shoulders for 10 hours, and walked endlessly through
congested, slow-moving, and damp streets amid a typhoon – all for that one rare
glimpse of the Pope.

A first-time visit to La Mesa Eco Park


The marriage of parks and friends spells warm comfort: a thousand stories past and present, ice cream, and window shopping for dreamcatchers and rasta bracelets – all with a toddler and my childhood friend, Koni, in tow.  

FEBRUARY


Sky Ranch Pampanga


Because there’s always a first time for carnivals. February was my daughter’s. Inside the Pampanga Eye, it became obvious that she is, indeed, far braver than her old lady where heights are concerned.


February also brought us our first feature on broadsheet (Manila Bulletin, Gone with The Kid) – or at least one that didn’t involve me writing a piece. 

MARCH 


Albay


Coming home to my mother’s hometown in Albay brings wonderful memories of childhood summers, cooking rice in a clay pot, and the awe-inspiring view of Mayon. Our 2015 Holy Week was spent exploring the usual and the unfamiliar in Camalig, Tabaco, Tiwi, Malinao, and Daraga.

Sorsogon


A side trip during our final day in Albay, the town of Pilar in Sorsogon proved to be more depressing than relieving but also eye-opening. 

APRIL


Cool Waves Ranch Resort, Bulacan

If Bicol was Lia’s pre-birthday celebration with our side of the family, Cool Waves Resort was her birthday shindig with the in-laws. Packed and seriously dizzying like most water theme parks in the Philippines.

Biyaheroes in Pagbilao, Quezon


It all started with a “We want you and Lia to be our ambassadors.” 


Now, because random things rock, a few email exchanges and few weeks later, we found ourselves on a boat to Pagbilao, Quezon with a family we just met that day and the coolest startup founders ever to film a Mother’s Day video.