Liv in a Life Well-Lived

Gravitas - feeling internally aligned / personally coherent, sometimes described as 'being comfortable in one's own skin', particularly in challenging circumstances Yes, it is not mere myth. There are people out there who seem to have legal authority to occupy the space they take up on earth. If gravitas needed certifying, it’ll be by an organization more selective and elite than Mensa. I’ve been trying to review my life, just in case I could pinpoint the exact time and place where I have decided to be weird and quirky instead of graceful and sensible. Searched and searched in vain, I have. But the thing about Almost-30 is that you are now of an age where you can finally shed the “innocent and naïve” wild card and move on to something that would allow you to become someone of more substance. Gravitas is hard to come by, precisely because it cannot exist in a vacuum. We cannot gain the skill by attending university or reading tedious tomes of Plutarchian wisdo

At this age, there is a greater probability that a single Almost-30 would be surrounded by other Almost-30 friends who are pregnant or who have given birth to wonderful bundles of joy. Last year, in my own 6 degrees of separation network, there must’ve been at least a dozen friends and acquaintances who were visited by the stork. Happy for them -- and a little envious of them -- I am. I honestly could understand their delight, anticipation and excitement. Then they start posting videos and pictures of sonograms, 2-day old pics, 3-day old pics, 4-day-old pics, (….), first haircut, first solid food tasting, first Lady Gaga song… you get the picture, right? Much as I love babies, I could only empathize for so long with someone I last saw 12 years ago during high school graduation. Then comes the ubiquitous question, “My bebe is so CUTE/GUWAPO/GANDA, noh?” Well, but of course! All babies are beautiful. I am the first to testify to that. But beauty has different sub-sets, we all kn

I was a voracious reader. Then I became a hungry reader. Then a reader. Now I’m a light-snacker when it comes to the literature department. I don’t know what happened. I hate that books cannot bring me the comfort it used to give me --- but nowadays, there just isn’t enough time and, sad to say, not enough memory space in my noggin to focus on a lengthy story. Some of my friends would say, “See? Even the bookworm that you are can’t read anymore.” But dear frigates, I will not go gentle into the good night. Reading only looks like it’s a luxury, but it might just be more than necessary. Your brain cells are degenerating. Old neural connections you haven’t used since your last Soc Sci exam in college are fading fast. The other day, I found myself just grasping for the word we use to describe frivolous behaviour. It took me a full minute of rummaging through my noodle bag to access the right word --- Levity. Then yesterday, my cousin Gabriel asked me to help him with his Filipino h

Remember when you turned 20 and you thought your life was about to change drastically? Well, how did that go for you? J Yeah, I know. Nothing magical or life-altering happened to me when I turned the awesome 2-0 too. I think I aced an exam in Psychology, and learned to walk in elevator shoes, but that’s about it. Then 9 years later, I looked back and realized I am NOT the same person I was at 20 years old. The changes are imperceptible at first, but I can feel it in my bones – something has been calibrated. Now that the big 3-0 is looming over me like a highly combustible Terra Nova dinosaur breathing down my neck, I try to tell myself this would be just like the last “transition” stage. Pretty much anti-climactic. It’s clear that society nowadays no longer want to believe in the traditional stages of life and you can do whatever you want, whatever age you are and wherever the eff you are. But the dormant OC gene in my body has woken up (for a while, at least) to remind me i