“Before anything, can I just say, as if I don’t say it enough already, that your words and the way you see the world is something the rest of us can only wish we inherit.”
Someone wrote this to me once. Also recently, a thoughtful traveler I’d met in Thailand and a beautiful stranger from the Philippines sent me messages of how poetry splashes out of the sentences I paint, how inspiration converged distances and found echo in the hearts of the tribe. The words melted and flowed profusely in the forms of more inspiration and motivation and faith.
“You’re such a soulful person and I can only imagine that will reflect on your blog.”
Someone expressed this to me once. She was the mentor who helped me succeed in launching the blog of my dreams and inspired me throughout the journey of Blog Clarity Bootcamp I joined two months ago. And finally, here I am, writing about the Universe that is the center, and how amazing and lucky we humans are to grace the continents with our mutual dance, to do the “great affair” of moving. Here I am, showing you photographs of the places I’ve visited and people I’ve connected with.
Here I am, meditating on the movement happening in our soft animal bodies when we are in solitude, silence, and stillness. Here I am, having the heart of a traveler and living into the questions and answers at the same time, yet the mystery remains to be infinite. To be honest, all I heard were whispers and all I saw were clouds.
But I am here nonetheless. This sacred presence wouldn’t be possible without the Universe weaving amazing encounters with people who shared and still continue to share support to the platform you are exploring right now. Because of the labors of love from which this blog was crafted, I can’t help but hold a thanksgiving day of my own. The gratitude habit, which they say is the mother of all virtues, began two years ago. I transformed my Starbucks Planner into a Gratitude Journal and consistently recorded three “merci moments” for each day. The following year, I altered the approach to Gratitude Jar by jotting down something/someone I’m thankful for in a colored piece of paper to be placed after inside a container. This habit continues up to now, alongside the creation of Into Gratitude section of the blog, from where I’ll be gladly posting “merci moments” every end of the month. I have this belief that the more I give thanks to the generosity of the Universe, the more I will be blessed. I highly encourage you to try it too! It will profoundly and positively impact your life and the lives of others.
This space is dedicated to the people I wanted to give thanks to and I hope you will stay and read until the end of the post. But of course, the gratitude is endless.
Her name is Lea. She is a natural artist. She is blessed with various talents, it is a waste not to declare to everyone. She dances, sings, paints, draws. She delivers jokes like no other. She encourages her dearest like she’s a twin sister. She creates art so mesmerizingly yet sometimes she doesn’t believe in it. But I believe in her and so do the many souls who know her personally. If you’re a stranger to her, I’m sure you will believe in her too. She received the Best in Dance Award. She sketched the first tattoo. She is the crafter behind the Art of Movement fluent lettering.
Her name is Sofia. She is a natural artist, a master of digital art. She pours her creations ever so lovingly to her audience with words that strike like a lightning, with words that bloom like sunflowers. Her art sprung forth an opening of the soul, a kind of vulnerability amidst the sea of struggles, and a kind of courage to be happy especially if we’re doing something that brings priceless peace within. Her platform (Stay Super) is a personal inspiration. She mentioned once big and true things await me, that my words are “like warm muscat tea to the spirit”. She believed even though I haven’t met her in the flesh. She curated an online art exhibit called Love Her but Leave Her Wild. She emboldens, she sheds light. She is the designer behind the Art of Movement soulful logo.
His name is Joro. The new call him Simon but he will always be Joro in my heart. Two years ago I remember telling him I was the number one fan of his photography. And maybe during the nomadic flow that came rushing along, I might have forgotten to tell him again. He created a travel blog called The Big Black Backpack, and YES I remain to be The Number One fan. Check his gallery out and you’ll utter YES too. I warn you, his feed may bite your wanderlust. He also writes travel stories like he’s an old friend coming over your crib and catching up on time apart with non-stop chat, bottles of Pale Pilsen beer and electronic music. He is a good travel writer but he must believe he is so that he becomes better. He also asked me to make a testimonial two revolutions ago. I did write (a bit) but these words never got to him: “Look inside this young man’s big black backpack and find yourself a kind of traveler, more so a person who is outrageously generous. Three-fourths of his TNF backpack carries his camera equipment and accessories and the one-fourth remaining contains a basic of three shirts and two pairs of shorts. You see, when he goes places, he doesn’t mind taking him with you and he will let you appreciate wonders that happen everyday, everywhere. He will capture sunsets, seas and mountains, locals, buildings and he will let you marvel, he will boost your courage, he will share a hundredfold.”
Her name is Reina. Pink skies bless her days. We grew up together, from public school to university, from a humble island to a chaotic city. The path is undeniably wild and colorful. And for every movement, Reina blazes her trail on people and places with enthusiastic wonder and deep kindness and bottomless wisdom. Missing her from time to time hovers in the air I breathe – while passing by buildings in the passenger seat of a cab, while writing this, while reading her morning message so touching and genuine it brings you to tears, while returning from a backpacking trip to Burma and all other destinations we explored together. She told me once while walking the streets of Yangon that she’s not one to talk much in a group of travelers. She doesn’t have to change though. She also recently mentioned she plans to travel solo soon. She will discover along the journey that she is very much capable of making a conversation in a big group when she finds the heart to do it. She will be comfortable doing so and her newly-met friends from the hostel will laugh with her jokes and find mutual love with the cute stuff. I am brimming with sureness that she can do it and she can do it with the guidance of the warrior tattoo on her right leg.
I am forever grateful to these young, wild souls for they accompanied me in the movement towards. But more than that, they stirred a movement within.
…if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within him; or the old laws be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with the license of a higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. -Henry David Thoureau, Walden
Thank you for being part of the foundation. The tribe advances.