Monday

I did not plan to write tonight, but why not when all is well and things are remarkably mundane. When your brain is hardwired for extravagance and, well, extraordinary news it’s an earned skill to take notice of breezy, easy moments. This is a silent practice.

At the office earlier, my conversing with my workmates ran naturally. I know them, and they know me, at least a little. But that was all I needed—well-intentioned conversations, looking in the eyes and exchanging jokes.

To me, that’s the recipe for a good life.

When Art (my bestfriend) and I prepared for dinner, nobody was leading us but ourselves. There were no spices available in the counter, so I followed the canned tuna after heating up some oil. I then added the Sotanghon, that I almost forgot soaking in water if not for Art’s observation. We didn’t add salt but Magic Sarap. It was the boiled eggs that completed the dish. I claim my biases; it was perfect.

There’s nothing wrong with planning things out and carefully seeing from step one to end. But there’s also something desirable about going with the flow, in not obsessing over perfection, and in being open to changes and blues. For as long as you trust your skills and you let the wind blow the curtains inwardly, you’ll most likely learn and grow.

That’s today’s takeaway.