Declutter That Mind

The warm sea breeze brushed Rosi’s skin as she sat on a weathered trunk along the shore. Her hands sifted through the fine, powder-like sand while her feet burrowed into its heat. In front of her, the sunlight danced over the glimmering surface of the water. It was the middle of July—a time when the Philippines should have been under the spell of the southwest monsoon, the “habagat,” with its fierce waves and cloudy skies. Yet, on this day, the weather was surprisingly calm and inviting.   The whole family had come to celebrate the birthday of Uncle Romi, her mother’s younger brother. Such gatherings were rare, happening only on birthdays or Christmas—sometimes at home, other times by the sea like today. Protected by a generous layer of sunblock, Rosi stayed uncovered beneath the blazing sun, her gaze fixed somewhere far away, her mind drifting even farther. Her mother called her name several times, but the calls seemed to sink into the waves.   From the kitchen, Mr...

There are moments in life that stay vivid no matter how much time passes. One of those moments happened on an ordinary afternoon. I was in my bedroom, just after I quit my job. The sunlight was soft, the atmosphere quite except for the faint sounds of my mother doing something outside the house. It should have felt like – but inside, I was filled with worry. I had quit without securing a new job, depending solely on my sister’s support.  I remember how I didn’t fully consider the consequences at the time. I was just trying to focus on myself, taking a break from responsibilities. But even in that moment of rest, there was a shadow of uncertainty. That afternoon felt peaceful on the surface, but it was loaded with questions I hadn’t answered. Mayber that’s why it keeps coming back. It was a snapshot of unfinished business – an unresolved part of my life that still echoes today. I didn’t know then how deeply that choice would affect me. Now as I look back, I realize it wasn’t ju...

In July 2025, I visited, along with my colleagues, one of the residential facilities operating under our regional jurisdiction. Nestled in a densely populated area in Cebu City, the place opened its doors to children in need—those whose families couldn’t provide for their basic needs. The facility is run by religious individuals who live out their calling through a life of service, fully committed to God and humanity. They live by the principles of Mother Teresa—serving without expecting anything in return. Love and care were felt immediately as we arrived. We saw adult caregivers attending to more than a dozen children, all of similar age and height. The way the staff gently guided and embraced the children showed how deeply they cared. Their mission is to nurture these young ones until the day their parents or families are ready to welcome them back. I didn’t know each child’s story, but a deep sadness came over me. It was a strange feeling, considering I once worked as a case man...

“ Hear my words that I might teach you, take my arms that I might reach you... ” This line from the classic song The Sound of Silence has always echoed in my mind. It speaks of the longing to be understood, the desire to connect, and the pain of unspoken truths. Sometimes, silence is louder than words—it holds meaning, waiting to be heard. Over time, I’ve noticed that I tend to speak in a more figurative way. My thoughts are often shaped by things I’ve read in books, blogs, or articles, and by lessons I’ve gathered from my personal experiences. These insights have made me more reflective, more poetic even, in the way I express myself. There are moments when my mind feels full—thoughts swirling around, ideas waiting to be spoken. When I don’t let them out, they stay with me, especially at night. I find myself lying awake, thinking about advice I wanted to give, but held back. Not because I didn’t care, but because the thought wasn’t complete yet. Sometimes, I even forget where I fi...

Have you ever experienced two people giving completely different decisions for the same situation? Like duha ka doktor nga lahi ug diagnosis, or duha ka judges nga naghatag ug lahi-lahi nga sentensya for the same crime? That’s exactly what the book Noise: A Flaw in Human Judgment by Daniel Kahneman, Olivier Sibony, and Cass R. Sunstein talks about. It introduces a hidden problem that affects almost every aspect of decision-making: noise. Ang bias ug noise kay lahi. Bias is when you make the same mistake over and over—consistent siya nga sayop. Noise, on the other hand, is random and unpredictable. Sa Bisaya pa, walay klaro nga desisyon . Two people, same training, same goal—but very different outcomes. That’s noise. And we often don’t see it. The authors gave real-world examples, like when they conducted a noise audit sa usa ka insurance company. Employees were asked to review identical cases—but their assessments were far from the same. The bosses thought everyone would decide ...

I never expected to find it—this quiet little corner tucked away like a secret. A space I had walked past so many times without knowing it was there. But today, I turned and discovered something magical. It felt like stumbling into a miniature Times Square, not with towering billboards and flashing lights, but with walls echoing the heartbeat of art—raw, colorful, and alive. There was a certain volume to it—not of sound, but of imagination. Each stroke, each texture, every color pulled me deeper. My eyes widened, and my heart followed, savoring the feeling of being surrounded by something so passionately human. Art, in all its forms, spoke silently yet powerfully. For someone who loves art, it doesn’t take a masterpiece to stir something inside. Even a simple shadow on the wall, the way a paintbrush is left to rest on a wooden table, or how random objects are positioned just right—all of it sends the mind wandering. Imagination flies effortlessly in places like this. Art has a way of g...