This was a tribute to my Dad during his 80th birthday party.

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Good evening.  We are delighted that you are with us to celebrate Dad and his 80 years.

By way of introduction, my name is Ani.  I am number two of the five children of Tong and Daisy; first daughter of four girls.  Somehow, this placement in the pecking order has bestowed on me the honor of imposing on you our entire family album.

 

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As most of you can imagine, Dad was quite an unconventional father. It is rumored that he wasn’t at any of our births; he surely never changed our diapers; he was never involved with our school work; and he attended a total of two parent-teacher meetings (and that was cumulative for the 5 of us). Having said that, in his own way, Dad always made his presence felt and always made us feel loved. So, for those of you concerned, the kids turned out okay; no pyschological scarring because of Dad. (Because of Mom, on the other hand, that’s a different story that we’ll save for another day.)

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Personally, I’ve always looked up to Dad. Whenever there were college essays that asked for the person I most admired, my answer would always be Dad. Not only because he was successful in both the private sector and the public sector, both venues in which he touched many lives, he is also the wisest person I know.

I wanted to be like him so much so that I deliberately patterned my life after his. Mom wanted to send me off to some far away boarding school, but I said no. Dad went to Ateneo and studied Economics; so, I went to Ateneo and studied (Management) Economics. He graduated cum laude; I graduated cum laude.

My life unfolded as expected — pretty much like Dad’s. I spent time in the private sector, did some public policy work . . . only to find out decades later that Dad had absolutely no intention of studying at the Ateneo! He was on his way to the University of the Philippines to register for pre-law, but got off on the wrong stop and ended up in Ateneo!

So basically, my entire life was patterned after an accident.

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Whenever I find time with Dad, I try to tap into his wisdom and ask him the most annoying questions.  Like, what is your biggest regret? or Dad, when you were a young parent, were you ever anxious about money? or What was your midlife crisis like?

Dad is always willing and ready to reflect. He’ll pause, sit back, and think. Then invariably respond with the most unsatisfying answer: No, no regrets. No, never anxious. No, no midlife crisis.

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We also often talk about the arc of his life and the events that led him to where he is now: an entrepreneur.  If he is not with his grandchildren, he can be found in the school in Bataan he recently founded, the University of Nueva Caceres – Bataan. Or in Sinagtala, his adventure resort in Bataan.

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One of the big turning points in his life was in 1986 when his beloved brother, our Tito (Uncle) Pito, was killed for political reasons. This is what prompted Dad to think about public service — to honor Tito Pito and to ensure that his death was not in vain.

A few months later, I remember mom crying (and mom never cries) and threatening to pack up the children and move to the US if Dad entered politics.

So, what did Dad do? He entered politics. First as Congressman in 1987 under Cory. He then went on to serve under 4 more presidents — Ramos, Erap, Gloria and PNoy.  He was Congressman until he reached the 3-term limit (he ran unopposed in his third and last term). Then, he was appointed Chairman of Subic Bay Metropolitan Authority (SBMA), and later as Chairman of the Bases Conversion Development Agency (BCDA).  In government, his hallmark pursuits were education, job-creation, and infrastructure.

And meanwhile, what did Mom do? She milked this Congress thing and had the time of her life! She embraced her inner fangirl and, and found some of her closest friends.

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A series of unfortunate events involving cheating scandals led Dad to quit politics in 2013.  I asked him if he was upset, and he simply said “No.  This is an opportunity for me to focus on projects I’ve always wanted to do like build a school.  Or an eco resort.”

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One day, while Dad and I were waiting for the rest of the family to mobilize for Sunday lunch, I asked him one of my annoying questions: What is your greatest happiness now?

Without looking up from his book and in all seriousness, he answered, “Spaghetti vongole.”

And then it hit me.  I then finally understood the wisdom of Tong Payumo.

The way he lives his life reminds of me of what author E.L. Doctorow said about writing. When he sets out to write a novel, he doesn’t have a plan. Each chapter reveals the next. It is “. . . like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”

This is how Dad lives — bit by bit, moment by moment, chapter by chapter. He concerns himself only with what he can see in the headlights — whether it be getting lost on his way to school, dealing with a family tragedy, dealing with a headstrong wife, facing political challenges, or planning for Sunday lunch. He never worries about what is too far ahead. This way he can adapt, change course with life’s uncertainties, and reinvent himself over and over again.

And this is the secret as to why he has had no regrets, no anxieties, and no midlife crisis.

*

Happy happy birthday, Dad. Thank you for your wisdom.

Call me a biatch, but I have issues. With conceivably the nicest little girl in the world. Who is bestowing life changing magic all over the planet.

You’ve probably heard, just by being on earth, about Marie Kondo. Her book, The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up, has helped millions of people declutter their homes and find everlasting joy. Aside from making it to Time’s 100 Most Influential, she has been called a “cultural phenomenon”, has a TV show that has gone viral, and a name that we now use as a verb.

About 4 years ago, I embarked on the path towards minimalism. I have since let go of over 80% of my stuff. I will attest to the fact that simplifying your life has numerous benefits: it gives you more time for what counts, saves you money, reduces stress, and all that jazz. But Kondo’s method of getting there isn’t sitting well with me.

Her method espouses a few basic principles: Discard everything in one big event (in one weekend, or over a few days). Once you do it, you’ll never have to tidy up again.  Only keep things that “spark joy”.  Sure, her method may be effective in getting to the destination. But, I think it falls short of taking full advantage of the rich, rich journey that can be had if the purging process was done a little differently. Let me explain (and offer up some alternative tips, for whatever they are worth).

Kondo Principle 1: Discard everything in one big event

Forget the basic question of who has time to dedicate full days to one project?? Letting go of our possessions is hard enough; being forced to make tough decisions on each of them NOW is highly stressful. It’s emotionally draining, burnout-inducing, and frankly, simply unnecessary. What’s the rush? If the goal of purging is to find joy and peace in our lives, why start the journey in agony? Why not wade in gently and organically?

wingwmn tip # 1: Set aside a couple of hours on a weekend to begin. Enjoy the process, turn up the music, and pick one area of your home to tackle. Some obvious places would be your wardrobe, bookshelves, kitchen cupboards, or medicine cabinets. First, discard the low-hanging fruit, aka the junk: old clothes, outdated clothes, clothes you’ve outgrown, worn out shoes, expired medicines, ineffective creams, fragrances and shampoos that don’t suit, expired food in the cupboard and fridge, instruction manuals for things you no longer own, destroyed gadgets. When you feel you’ve finished with one area, move on to the next. Do this for half an hour, an hour, a couple of hours a day whenever you can. Remember, you’re not looking for perfection. Just enough to feel like you’ve cleared out the trash.

Kondo Principle 2: Once you do it, you’ll never have to cull again

With her “one and done” mentality, Kondo ignores the reality of self-evolution. We are constantly in flux — our needs change, our desires change, our identities change. Or on an even more mundane level — we switch jobs, we mature in our fashion sense, we get tired of things. If we want our homes to continue to be our sanctuaries, our possessions have to change with us. Regular reassessment of our belongings is not only nice. It is necessary.

wingwmn tip # 2: Return to the areas of clutter in your home often (once a quarter maybe?). See if there are other things that you are able to discard. In this process, you’ll notice your critieria changing, and that you’re able to discard increasingly meaningful objects. From culling for junk, you’ll be able to parse more carefully and let go of the beautiful pair of uncomfortable shoes you never ever wear. And then, the Lladro your grandmother gave that is at odds with your midcentury modern furniture. And THEN, the trophies and medals you once thought defined you. 

wingwmn tip # 3: To keep motivation levels up, it is important to move items out of your home as soon as possible. Know where you can throw, donate, or sell your items, and execute as soon as possible. The observable sensation of having less stuff and more room (rather than heaps of filled bags cluttering the hallways waiting to be taken out) will instantaneously make you happier and keep you going back for more.

By purging slowly and intentionally, we allow space for self-discovery. As we return to areas again and again, we notice an unclenching. A diminished dependence on stuff to feel secure. A maturity to view things as they are: just things.

Kondo Principle 3: Keep only that which sparks joy

Many issues here. First, the criteria to keep things that “spark joy” is vague. I can stare at my rice cooker all day and will still not arouse any emotional response to it. The criteria is also misleading. My tax returns surely don’t spark joy. Should I discard it (and spark all the joy out of my accountant)?

Second, the happiness we derive from inanimate objects is fleeting. Any depressed person who has had to resort to retail therapy will understand. So, what do we do when our things no longer spark joy? Cull again, you say? See Kondo Principle 2. (I rest my case, thank you.)

Third, the criteria is weak in averting future accumulation. If I am allowed to purchase that which sparks joy, what is going to keep me from buying the entire Moleskine store?

Most importantly, scrounging around for things that bring us joy builds a psychological dependence on inanimate objects for our emotional well-being. It empowers the object to control us; to do something TO us. If that object is lost or destroyed, we become distraught. Alternatively, if we change the criteria to keep only that “which we use”, we hold the power. Our happiness is rooted in ourselves. Possessions are managed; our environment yields and transforms in accordance with our evolution.

wingwmn tip # 4: Keep only that which is “useful now”. Useful. Now. That is, have I used it recently? Will I use it soon (and not in some future theoretical costume party that I haven’t yet been invited to)? Some suggestions:
• Books: keep only the reference books you return to often. How likely are you going to reread the novels? Not? Then discard.
• Clothes: Discard anything unworn last season.
• Kitchen tools: Discard rarely used gadgets and utensils (like the ice cream maker you used once in the summer of ’06. Or the corporate mug you swiped just because.)
• Redundant things: Discard the second bread knife, the third pair of scissors, the fifteenth table setting.
• Things that can be found online: Discard anything that can be found online such as gadget instructions (hello, youtube), CDs and DVDs (hello, spotify and netflix), travel guides (hello, google, yelp, tripadvisor, etc)
• Forgotten things: Discard anything to which you’ve exclaimed, “Oh I forgot I had this!” You didn’t miss it; you won’t need it.
• Virtual-izable things: Discard anything that can be placed in a hard drive or the cloud, such as photos and business cards (but um, copy them first).

A slow and intentional process of purging — one that respects our unfolding and does not wrest possessions from us before we are ready, one that does not cede control of our happiness to things — ultimately reveals a deeply-rooted and self-aware version of ourselves. With the ability to watch our own personal evolution, we better know who we are and what sparks in us real joy. Then, we can take this self-truth and apply them in the environments in which we place ourselves, in the thoughts we allow, in the things we say, and in the relationships we hold.

Four years in and I humbly acknowledge that tidying up is truly life changing. I’ll give Kondo that.

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p.s. Speaking of purging, if you’d like to purchase a MNMLST t-shirt, click here or here.

I would love love to hear your thoughts!  Please comment in the section below.  

Whenever I am asked which famous person, dead or alive, I would choose to have dinner with, my answer is automatic: Anthony Bourdain. Without a doubt.

He has always been my compass for “cool” — a little bit due to his artful way with words; a little bit because he was very easy on the eyes; but a huge bit because despite his global influence and his iconic everybody-wants-to-be-him status, he never made it about himself. He insisted that his shows featured less footage of him and more on the people he covered — a metaphor for how he related with the world. His mental cameras were always turned outwards, away from him, fully celebrating his subject matter.  He probed and dug, seeking to understand, and to uncover the soul of their people.

Every week, in the pursuit of authentic stories and insights, he taught us how to LISTEN. That to reeeally do so takes a willingness to step outside our comfort zone and enter uncomfortable territory; to sit on the floor, squat or do what it takes to (literally and figuratively) start on equal footing; to put our phones down, break bread (or beer) and be fully absorbed in the stories.  To listen, Bourdain showed us, is to admit that we know nothing and to risk looking foolish with our questions; to suspend judgement despite our deeply held truths; and to be unafraid to admit we are wrong.

Bourdain proved time and again that when we listen, we reveal our shared human experience. He confirmed that in the most foreign of lands, among the remotest of tribes, there are people just like us: “The world is filled with people doing the best they can. Who love their kids. Who would like to put on a clean shirt every morning, to have access to food and water. Who hope. Just like everybody else.”  By doing so, he made the world a little bit smaller. A little bit friendlier.

This world he honored was hit hard by the news of his passing.  In this selfie-obsessed era when our mental cameras are constantly turned towards ourselves, when deep personal interactions have become so rare, we lost the last big breath of freshly self-effacing, irreverently generous, sweet air.

I am heartbroken that he took his life.  And dumbfounded.  In a roundabout way, it brought to mind a passage I had recently read — that when we regularly reflect on our death, when we deeply understand our own impermanence and become so intimate with our life’s fleeting nature, an internal upheaval occurs. Temporal pursuits fall away and the only true goals remain: love and knowledge.

I wonder if Bourdain often thought about his death. Could a secret familiarity with his own impermanence have influenced his enlightened existence? We’ll never know. But for all of us still reeling, perhaps a flicker of a consolation is that through him, we were reminded that humility, compassion and the pursuit of wisdom are still the ultimate badass.

RIP.

My dearest Yanna, Lia, Soph, Lishi, and Mayari,

My mother was a very stern disciplinarian. Her eyes spoke a thousand words, and her screams conveyed what her eyes couldn’t. It was unambiguous when she was upset, and I dared not cross that line for (the ungrounded) fear of being put up for adoption.

She didn’t believe in idle time. She enrolled me in class after extra-curricular class — ballet, piano, organ, recorder, folk dance, acting, voice, tennis, gymnastics, horseback riding, cooking, baking, art. Name it, I took it. I wasn’t particularly passionate about any of the classes, but I diligently attended. At 8, I was busier than the Pope. I never objected.

Whenever she and Dad traveled, she left household management to me. By the age of 11, I handled a decent amount of cash, managed the marketing budget, did the groceries, and doled out staff salaries. I did as I was told. I never grumbled about it.

She governed my early-teenage social life, allowing me to attend 1 out of every 2 or 3 high school soirees to ‘give the boys a chance to miss me’. She dragged me to her parties to meet her friends’ sons. And yet, she was adamant about avoiding exclusive relationships because “you should be collecting for as long as you can!” [side note: patay tayo diyan.]. I generally complied.

My mom and I giggle about it now. I tell her, I need to see a therapist for mother-related trauma issues. She says, I don’t doubt it. You see, I was Mom’s first girl. (Like all of you, uncannily, are.) She was learning how to be a mother to a daughter as my childhood unfolded. And I, simultaneously, was learning how to keep her happy through obedience (most first daughters fall into this trap apparently).

My dear goddaughters, your relationship with your mothers is the most important emotional building block you will have. Its yield will go deeeep and looong affecting most of what you do into adulthood. So, it is imperative to mold it as consciously as you can.  With the benefit of hindsight, this would be my counsel:

Being a dutiful and obedient daughter will serve you well. It will prime you to earn good grades; foster a good work ethic; and learn responsibility, restraint, and discipline, all of which will form a solid foundation as an adult. With these, you will get into good schools, score some awards, land good jobs, most probably find good husbands. All well and good.

BUT BUT BUT here’s the thing. Many of the things that will really matter later in your lives, the great things, will require a certain bravery that is, unfortunately, not cultivated by being dutiful and obedient. Grander undertakings of pursuing happiness or accomplishing groundbreaking work require going against the grain, against what is popular, what is common.  Studying philosophy instead of medicine, calling off an engagement, standing up for a cause, proposing new ways of doing things, disrupting an old industry — all these require the fortitude to face dissenting opinions from parents, a partner, a boss, a moneyed lobby group; and the composure to keep on keeping on despite these. So, dear ones, while it is early, start getting comfortable with disapproval.  I recommend sometimes stepping away from the security of excessive deference, and acting based on authenticity without regard to popularity.

Aaaaall this to say, my dear goddaughters, I urge you to color outside the lines more often. Swim without sunscreen. Spit out that god-awful cod liver oil. Stay a little longer on Netflix. Leave food on your plate. Get that nose ring. Write a letter to your future goddaughters encouraging them to be naughty.

Sure you’ll be scolded. Sometimes big time. But if you are convinced it is what you need to do, and you can stand behind your actions, do it. And know that whatever it is you decide to do or not do, you will always always be loved.

Love,
Ninang

Would love to hear your thoughts.  Please comment in the section below.

“Warning: Manila is going to frustrate you.”

“Nah, I doubt it. Frustration happens only to those with an agenda. And I have zero agenda,” I arrogantly countered. “Plus,” I noted to myself, “I meditate. I got this. I am Peace Personified!”

Fast-forward a few months . . .

Back in Manila, and I am anything but the face of peace. I’ve become the Embodiment of Exasperation. Little random things trigger anger or irritation on a daily basis.

Michael Singer, author of The Untethered Soul, describes how these certain triggers become “pains”. In their essence, everything that occurs around us is neutral — they are neither good nor bad. It is we who decide to label them as such. Let’s take traffic — essentially, neutral. But one can consider it a massive deterrent to a destination (bad), while another can view it as opportunity for alone time (good). Singer explains that we label certain occurrences as “bad” when they rub up against what is delicate within us. That is, our own constructed self-identities.

We all have the tendency to grasp onto a self-identity to allow us to understand how we fit in. These identities come in various forms: I am a powerful politician. I am a loving wife and mother. I am a successful businessperson. I am intelligent and talented. I am young, stylish and beautiful. I am Catholic. . . These self-concepts help us orient with the world. They are the platforms we erect to keep us secure amidst the changes around us. It consoles us to believe that when we we know who we are, we know how to act, how to make decisions, and how to relate to other people. This is why we defend our self-identities so dearly. Because without them, who are we? And so it follows that if anyone challenges our constructed platforms, it triggers us emotionally.

But these self-concepts we’ve created are a false security. Relying on them and defending them aggressively for our self-worth is folly (and exhausting!), simply because nothing is permanent. Every cell in our body is changing. Our emotions change. Our moods, our desires. Power and influence are contingent on people willing to bestow it. Youth is fleeting. Success is fickle. Love fades.

Instead of being triggered and incessantly having to defend these self-concepts, it would be wiser to loosen our grip on them.

So, this is the process I have found myself to follow when I observe my jaws contract in irritation, or when my heart clenches in anger:
I, first, breathe out the emotion.
Then, I lean back and get curious about what this irritation is presenting to me. What is it telling me? If a “fat” comment triggers me, could it be that I have placed too much self-worth on appearance? If a service provider doesn’t respond, could it be that I still identify too much with New Yorker efficiency?
Then, I shake my head at my foolishness in the face of impermanence (because I do, in fact, have acquired a mid-life metabolism. And I am, in fact, no longer in New York).

Each time I do this, I relax a little more. Am able to go with the punches a little more. Take myself less seriously a little more. And have fun a little more!

Oh, Manila. In all your annoying glory, you teach. Salamat.

 

I would love to hear your thoughts.  Drop me a line in the comments section below.

“So what are your plans? What are you going to do for work? Where are you going next?”  I get these questions A LOT.

My standard I-respect-you-and-your-time answer has been:
“Not sure. Going with the flow. aka, Lost.” (or roughly translated to Tagalog, Ewan).

But if time weren’t an issue, my soapbox you’ll-be-sorry-you-asked answer would be:
“You know how it is when you’re trying to write something, and nothing is flowing, and one day through no effort or skill of your own, words start rolling out of your fingers? Or when you’re trying to decide between two options, you wait a few days and suddenly the answer becomes very clear?

These experiences hint at the fact that the universe has a ‘way’ that we cannot fully fathom. In all human endeavor, luck, timing, inspiration, and a whole battery of other nebulous factors out of our control, are in play. The act of creation (of art, of businesses, of our next steps) is orphic, and the universe is a wondrous yet complex co-creator. One thing is certain, though. If we respect the ‘way’, she will eventually clear a path for us. It’s quite like groping around in the dark — you feel only walls until you don’t, offering space to move forward. Or like turning a key in a lock — you jiggle against resistance until there is none, allowing effortless unlocking.

The ancient Chinese philosophy of Taoism prescribes a way to navigate this profound mystery. Life, it emphasizes, should therefore be a balance between Wu Wei (loosely translated to ‘Doing Nothing’) and Wu Bu Wei (‘Doing Everything’). There is a time and place for each one.

We all know well the concept of ‘Doing Everything’. In the modern world, the lack of movement equates to the lack of progress. So we go go go and do do do. We ‘don’t take no for an answer’ and ‘make things happen’.

In Taoism, however, there should be times set aside for ‘Doing Nothing’.  These include when our next steps aren’t obvious, or when we are met with constant resistance, or when we find ourselves rationalizing our actions rather than listening to our guts. This is when we should sit back and allow things to simmer. If we muscle our way through these moments of un-ready-ness, our actions reap very little. Or worse, lead to less than optimal results. Doing Nothing is to respect the course of nature and trust that while nothing is happening, everything is happening.

‘Doing Nothing’, however, does not equate to ‘eating chips on the couch waiting for the universe to hand you a job’. Rather, it is doing only what is effortless, what does not require force. It is making that one phone call, drawing that one illustration, writing that one sentence. And relaxing. Lao Tzu, founder of Taoism, reminds us, ‘Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished’.

I have a few ideas about the future, but nothing is crystal clear. So for now, I jiggle until things are ripe. And when they are, I’ll know and I’ll be ready to Do Everything.”

(Steps off the soapbox).

I’d love to hear your thoughts.  Drop me a line below.

2017 was a wild, wild ride. She upheaved my career, downgraded my income, and uprooted me from what I long considered my home. She shot me out of my 2-bedroom Brooklyn apartment, through several European hotel rooms, a shared flat in London (and my sister’s couch) and finally onto where I am currently writing this — my parents’ Manila home. As a result, 2017 massively downscaled my possessions and profoundly upgraded my life.

It’s remarkable how the resolve to live simply in a material sense takes over every other aspect of one’s life. After I decluttered my environment, I soon found myself wanting to streamline my routines, my social obligations and my mental meanderings.  Here are some of the things I’ve learned about living richly with (much, much, much) less:

ON SIMPLIFYING YOUR DIET

1. Forget the fad diets and labels. Eat local. And do as Michael Pollan advises: “Eat food, not too much, mostly plants.”

2. Take advantage of the fact that you’re feeding only yourself. Eat what you want to eat (adhering to #1 above). So, food shop for a maximum of 3 meals ahead. This avoids having to eat (or throw out) something that doesn’t strike your fancy.

3. Make self-care a priority. To live richly, you first need to feel comfortable in your own skin.

ON SIMPLIFYING YOUR WARDROBE

4. Keep and buy only what is classic, basic, beautiful. Avoid too much patterns or loud colors.

5. Embrace your inner European and repeat your clothes. If you stick to the basics, no one will be able to tell. And if they do, who cares?

6. Never keep anything you aren’t using “just in case” – just in case you get invited to a costume party, in case it makes a trend comeback, etc. If you don’t see a concrete need for it in the future, throw it out. If, on the off chance, “just in case” happens to be the case, get a new one.

7. Don’t go on a shopping spree “because it’s on sale” or “because we’re in Paris”. Buy only what you need, when you need.

8. When traveling, feel free to go window shopping. It’s a great way to see local design aesthetic and probe local culture. If you fall in love with something you don’t need, take a photo. I promise you, it’ll feel as if you bought it.

9. When choosing between an item you LOVE and a similar one that is “just okay” but 20% the price of the other item, go get what you LOVE.

ON SIMPLIFYING YOUR BEAUTY ROUTINE

10. Know the clothes that look good on you. Know the type of fragrances that work for you. Ignore everything that doesn’t.

11. Don’t take the sample perfumes and creams if you have no intention of trying them.

12. If you do try the samples, and you decide you don’t like them, throw the rest away. There’s no point keeping what you don’t like.

13. Buy your beauty items one at a time. It’s worth taking the risk of discontinuity than finding a new scent (or moisturizer or shampoo or [fill in the blank]), and being stuck with bottles and bottles of items you’ve outgrown.

14. Facial wash is facial wash is facial wash. Any drugstore natural brand or mild baby soap will do.

15. Take care of your skin and you won’t need foundation.

16. The best make up is good nutrition, lots of water and 7 hours of sleep.

17. Move your body daily. Even if it’s just 10 sun salutations.

18. You don’t need an expensive gym membership. A yoga mat and decent walking shoes are plenty.

19. Visit your dentist regularly.

20. Get regular massages.

ON FINDING DAILY INSPIRATION

21. Be current with what is going on in your city. See exhibitions, galleries, theater, dance, movies. There is no need to purchase anything in the gift shop.

22. Soak in beautiful interiors. Visit a beautiful restaurant even if it serves mediocre food. Go for a drink.

23. Travel for travel’s sake. Not for shopping.

24. Listen to music regularly. Country music may even surprise you.

25. Read. Keep learning.

26. As much as possible (and it hurts me to say this), avoid buying physical books. Use a Kindle. Or the library.

27. If you live with people, find time to be alone. Even if it means waking up at 4 a.m.

28. Meditate.

29. Dine alone. See a movie alone. Go to an exhibit alone.

30. Take long walks in silence.

ON SIMPLIFYING COMPANY

31. Time alone prepares you to be fully present with others.  When you’re with company, be WITH them. Be interested in them. Be curious about them. Listen.

32. Say NO (nicely and firmly) to social obligations that you don’t want to attend.

ON DEVELOPING AN UNCLUTTERED MIND

33. Unclutter your mind through writing. Write away your agitation and your cogitation. It doesn’t matter where you write them.

34. That said, always have a notebook handy for random thoughts at random hours. Your notes don’t have to be pretty. You don’t have to reread them if not inclined.

35. Stop overthinking decisions. You already know what to do. Make the decision, implement, and move on.

36. Mind your own business and avoid judgements of others. Everyone is entitled to their own happiness.

37. Forgive easily. Let it go.

38. Don’t grasp on to negative feelings. It’s aging.

39. Know what you can control and focus on only that.

40. Know what is enough for you. Have only what you need.

41. Make room for creativity. Contribute a little piece of beauty into this world.

42. Find the humor. Always.

 

I’d love to hear your thoughts on simplifying your life. . . or on anything really.  Please comment in the section below.