Diwa Daily

I read that asking a child, or anyone for that matter, what they would like to be growing up is problematic. The question demands that you select and identify with one specific occupation. It leaves no room for changes in decision, interest, or preference. Moreover, if you come from a family that expects you to choose from any of their preferred career choices, the pressure becomes too heavy to bear. These days, I find myself thinking about the less popular variations to the question, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" I do so mainly because I realize how my personality and interests vary over the years as I introduce myself to new people, places, and cultures. As I see how the world changes and how technology transforms the way . . .

I've come to believe that important life lessons are learned through either advice or hands-on experience. The latter, more often than not, is the best and most painful teacher. It's also the teacher whose classes I keep attending with or without intention. 😕 This week's lesson I had to (re)learn is to read before you sign. Read what you're signing up for before putting your signature on the dotted line. Read, else you'll realize three years later that you just spent a good portion of your life savings into something you'll probably never get back. That something was my life insurance plan. P185,736.96. Imagine that big an amount going to something that I wouldn't be able to enjoy until I was dead. That could've been for my . . .

Every time I log in to Twitter (@heysstef), I get distracted by the 18.4K tweet count glaring at me from the side of my feed. I couldn't shake off the urge to bring that number down, no matter how senseless and time-consuming the task was. Did I really post that many tweets? What were those tweets about anyway? When DID I first jump on the blue bird wagon? Bored with work, I checked for possible ways to go back to the start of my timeline. Turns out you just need to go to https://twitter.com/search-advanced, type in your username and select the date range. BOOM 💥 instant shame and embarrassment to scroll through for the next half hour. As a regular digital consumer + content creator, mindfulness is something I've only begun to . . .

If you peruse through my 2017 planner, you'll find a section called "Good Things That Happened" where I note down my small-big wins in life and work. The past few months these Good-Things-That-Happened boxes are filled up with all kinds of achievements and events that kept me away. It's wonderful and frustrating at the same time, and I've been kicking myself to write my Friday recaps regularly. Today's sad excuse for an update will hopefully break the silence and keep on going from hereon. I'm launching my stationery blog-shop 🌸 (100% done) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bah9DVdh3oP/?taken-by=pagerieco I call pagerie.co a "blog-shop" because I want my writing will be the expression of my passion for paper products and writing tools. For . . .

The black elastic bracelet—its wooden pendant carved 04/21/09 I left inside the drawer with printed copies of his conversations. They're peppered with sweet good-night wishes, promises of a future where we'd always hold hands. I included the pair of innocent silver promise bands he bought for us. These lasted longer than my wedding ring. For some strange reason there was only nostalgia. Not joy or warm fuzzy feelings, but a deep longing to return to Manila of six years ago and rewrite that part of my personal history. Such dreams are never good for the health, so I decided it was time to stow them all away. It's all about living in the moment now. - Last February I was just inches away from my first love after ten years of . . .