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Calle Crisologo & The Quiet Art of Letting Go
Every great story starts with a bad idea and a backpack that’s seen better days. On a random Tuesday in October, I impulsively booked a trip to Ilocos, with no clear plans or even goals. I just wanted to walk along the cobblestone streets of Calle Crisologo and stare at the massive windmills of Ilocos Norte. And for someone who’s usually bombarded with meetings and responsibilities, that tiny act of recklessness felt like reclaiming a little piece of myself. As I strolled along Calle Crisologo at night, I realized why this small act felt so satisfying. Lately, I’d started feeling like I traded my carefree and messy side for deadlines,…
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Bangui Windmills And The Strange Absurdity Of Taking Life Too Seriously
What if none of this really matters? What if everything we stress about doesn’t mean as much as we think it does? And what if that’s the best news you’ve heard all week? As I stood before the massive Bangui Windmills, I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Here I was, surrounded by giants that survived everything nature threw at them, while I’ve spent the past week battling storms that only existed in my head. All week long, I thought about canceling my trip to Bangui Windmills and Ilocos Norte. I kept thinking about the recent earthquakes and aftershocks. I kept thinking about my recent performance at work. And I…
