A Spoonful of Sugar 2006 No.11

JOURNEY TO “I DO”
By Niña Terol

It’s really funny how things turn out. A few weeks ago, I was depressed and disenchanted, feeling like I’ve fallen into a hole and couldn’t find a way out. Now I’m feeling like the light has shone through and someone has pulled me from out of the darkness.

Last night, after one year of living together and strengthening our relationship through the ups and downs of daily domestic life, Paul and I finally set our wedding date.

Just like the many milestones in our romantic history—from the moment we became “us,” to the time we started moving in together, up until the present—the plan did not come as a single event. There was no formal proposal, no getting on one knee and presenting a ring, no teary-eyed “yeses,” no stories of how he did this and what he did to prepare for the proposal.

We will never have an engagement anniversary, just as we never had an “’it’s us already’ anniversary” or a “moving in together anniversary.” What do we do have, which we’ve had from the whirlwind beginnings of our relationship, is the quiet but firm certainty that this is what we had been destined to do and to be for each other.

And what better date could there be for our nuptials but January 23 (01/23)—an auspicious-looking number, indeed, and the date that has bound us together since the day we were both born! On that day in 2008, I will turn 28, he will turn 32, and we will become One.

Paul and I have always found it delightfully serendipitous that we share the same birthday. In our college days, we found amusement in that fact but saw each other more as kindred opposites than as connected spirits. When we rediscovered each other again and plunged into a romantic relationship, it opened us up to the possibility that, maybe, we had been living parallel lives all these years only to meaningfully intersect at one point. Now, when people around us find amusement in it, we tell them that, indeed, we’ve been “itinakda” (destined) for each other since the day we were born.

The concept of destiny and fate are tricky ones to tackle here, but let’s just say that, at least for Paul and I, our intertwined lives have been the product of synchronicity and convergence happening over and over again. It’s as if the Universe, over the years, has been slowly braiding the knot that will eventually tie us together. And when we do declare our vows and become One, it will just be the culmination of a lifetime (perhaps even several lifetimes, if you believe in that sort of thing) of building a shared life.

I admit that, without a formal proposal, I’m still getting used to the fact that I am someone’s fiancée and that I have a wedding to plan. After all, Paul and I have been living together for one year already and are quite well-adjusted to each other’s quirks and to the intricacies of domestic life. For us, the wedding will just be a formal celebration of our love and commitment in front of family and friends. It will also signal our readiness to raise a family of our own.

Indeed, I am expecting to be inundated by questions and details as family and friends will want to know more about the ceremony and their respective roles in it as the months roll by. But, right now, what matters most is that I am making the biggest commitment of my life, and it feels like I’m coming home to myself.

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Niña Terol is a writer, editor, entrepreneur, and pugilist. She knew that Paul was The One when, one night, she had a vivid dream about walking down the aisle with him and saw all the details with startling clarity and realism. The next morning she woke up with a deep knowing in her heart that she had found her true match.

A Spoonful of Sugar 2006 No.10

TUNING IN TO YOUR
“INNER RHYTHM”
By Niña Terol

It’s so easy to get caught up in the cacophony of our everyday activities that we forget to tune in to the “inner rhythm” of our lives.

When that happens, we not only lose touch with ourselves and end up feeling disoriented or somewhat disjointed; we also lose touch with our life’s Higher Purpose—and the means with which to reach it.

For instance, have you ever experienced dodging an “extra-curricular” activity because of not having enough time or energy to do it—only to realize later on that you needed to do it precisely to recharge and re-energize yourself?

Or, was there ever a time when you started to notice patterns in the way that things were happening in your life—only to shrug them off as mere, meaningless coincidences?

OR… Was there ever a time when you gave in to a particular food craving and realized that your body was looking for it because you needed it to cope with a certain situation that you were going through?

Everyone has had such an experience at one time or another; however, not everyone actively tunes in to these experiences to figure out what they mean.

If there’s one important thing that I’ve learned about human beings in this whole process of living, it’s that our minds and our bodies sometimes function so separately that our minds think and say one thing, while our bodies do another. Because of certain roles and responsibilities that we have to fulfill every day, our bodies go into “auto-pilot,” accomplishing routine tasks almost mechanically and without a second thought. Our minds, on the other hand, float above us in a higher plane, searching for Meaning and Truth without actually being able to integrate these into our lives.

Then, when Mind and Body finally do merge, we feel a jolt, a strong electrical signal that wakes us up and enlightens us about certain aspects of our current reality. That’s when we feel that we’ve “seen the light.” In truth, the light has always been there within us; we’ve just forgotten how to activate
the switch.

One weeknight, after a particularly draining day at work, I decided to stop by Powerbooks at Greenbelt before heading home. Greenbelt is out of the way from my everyday route (I work in Ortigas and live by the Manila/Pasay boundary), but it has become a comfort zone, a “home base” for me. By that time, too, it had already been months since I dropped by Powerbooks, another comfort zone. I figured that a visit was long overdue.

The light has always been there within us; we’ve just forgotten how to activate the switch.I’ll never forget what transpired the moment I walked into Powerbooks’ doors: it was as if a huge and heavy burden—a blanket, more specifically—had been lifted off my eyes, head, and shoulders, and as if something had freed up in my nasal area, allowing me to take deep breaths again. My vision seemed clearer, my head lighter, and my heart fuller. I wanted to cry.

Of course, being in a public place in the thick of the Christmas rush, I decided to rein my tears in. Instead, I slowly made my way around the store, wide-eyed and in awe, as if I were exploring the territory for the first time. It was a strange but exhilarating feeling—like being a kid in a candy mansion. But I had been to Powerbooks countless times already—why, then, was I feeling the way I did then?

I casually mentioned this to one of my mentors at a pre-Christmas dinner. He then proceeded to ask me what Powerbooks meant to me, and why I thought I felt that way. I told him that, to me, Powerbooks is the place where I go to “escape” from the world and “just be still.” There, I am not obliged to chat with anyone or do anything; I could just get a book and browse its pages or, better yet, sit down with a cup of hot tea and do absolutely nothing.

(It also helped that none of my boyfriends, past or present, were book buffs. For one ex-boyfriend, in particular, Powerbooks was like a town library—who’d wanna go there, right?—so I would announce a trip there just to get him off my back for a few hours, maybe even the whole day. Mean, but true.)

“From the way you’re answering, Nines,” my mentor replied, “it seems to me that you want to be alone for a while.”

I was struck by his one-liner because it was so simple—and yet so true. For me, 2006 had been all about taking care of other people—from playing domestic diva to Paul at home, to being an emotional pillar for the rest of my family and my close friends, to being “mother hen” at the office. I never really had the time nor the space to just do the things I wanted to do—and it was starting to eat me up and manifest itself in my physical realities.

I was able to breathe more deeply when I entered Powerbooks that night because my life was suffocating me! (And it took a trip to the bookshop for me to realize that!)

And I had to remember that it wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Paul, my family, my staff—they all expect certain things of me because of the dynamics of our respective relationships. I also expect certain things of myself—but I have not been able to fulfill these expectations.

Having omelette and tea for breakfast, being able to lie down on a couch to read, having enough space to exercise and meditate at home, being able to jog outdoors… Although routine and seemingly mundane, these were integral aspects of my life rhythm that I had learned to drown out because of so many things. Not being able to do them made me feel disjointed and out of synch with myself and with the world.

Our daily routines help bring order into our day and make sense of what’s going on around us. If we fail to give in to those little comforts that ground us, it’s like failing to take a bath and brush our teeth—we’ll feel uncomfortable, out of focus, and unable to do the things that really matter.
Our daily routines help bring order into our day and make sense of what’s going on around us. If we fail to give in to those little comforts that ground us, it’s like failing to take a bath and brush our teeth—we’ll feel uncomfortable, out of focus, and unable to do the things that really matter.

So, yesterday being Christmas, I did exactly what I wanted to do: ate ensaymada and hot chocolate for breakfast, laid in bed for most of the day, and attempted to read the latest issue of Time (the one where “we” are on the cover) from cover to cover. Again, these were seemingly mundane activities—but, to me, they spelled the difference between a day filled with holiday obligations and a day where I could just be myself. And, when it comes to tuning in to one’s inner rhythm, that’s what really counts.

___

Niña Terol is a writer, editor, entrepreneur, and pugilist. Her ideal morning is one in which she can lie down on a couch (for which she currently does not have space at home) and sip hot tea while reading a good book or magazine. Right now, she enjoys reading Readers’ Digest, The Economist, and Time. She also thinks that Carla Sibal, one of her favorite fashion designers and the editor-in-chief of Mega, has done wonders for the fashion magazine.

A Spoonful of Sugar 2006 No. 9

WHEN LIFE HITS YOU HARD, TALK TO YOURSELF!
By Niña Terol

Lately I’ve come to realize that, perhaps, some of the most insightful conversations that we will ever have are the ones that we have with ourselves. That is, of course, if we actually take enough time to engage ourselves in meaningful discourse.

It’s not to say that people around us aren’t interesting enough to talk to—not at all—but if we just step back for a moment from the whirlwind of our frenzied lives, we might find that we actually have more to say about certain things than we think we do. Or we might discover that how we think we feel about a particular thing is quite different from how we really feel.

When we take the time to ask ourselves the right questions, we might surprise ourselves with our real answers.

In Letters to a Young Poet, the writer Rainier Maria Rilke writes: “Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far into the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.” For six months leading up to this writing, I had forgotten to even ask the right questions, instead convincing myself that I was happy where I was. An unfortunate series of events at work banged on my head and forced me to face up to a bitter reality.

When we take the time to ask ourselves the right questions, we might surprise ourselves with our real answers.

I shocked my business partners just recently when I announced my decision to tender my resignation as managing director of my current company, Company M*, and as caretaker of its “big sister,” Company S. Company M was formed just six months ago, after a foreign media group co-opted me and transformed my sole proprietorship, Likha Communications Consulting, into a corporation. On the other hand, Company S was an older entity, having been operating for nearly three years already when I came on board. Its old management team resigned en mass shortly after Company M was established—the circumstances surrounding which will take yet another blog entry to explain—leaving me to manage two fledgling companies that were still trying to create its identity in the nearly saturated design and communications industry.

As is what happens in many start-ups, the beginning was filled with much hope and excitement. The board expressed their optimism that, under my leadership, the companies would take flight and rectify mistakes made in the past. I was confident that my passion, my skills, and my leadership abilities would carry me and my team through whatever storm may pass.

Soon after my appointment, however, it became clear to me that I was working within an inappropriate system, with people who neither understood my industry nor had the passion and the commitment to undertake the changes that were necessary for both companies’ success. Most of the board members were part of a family which had been soaked in personal conflicts, politics, and a laissez-faire management style that didn’t make wrongdoers accountable for their actions. Debts that were unpaid by the previous management were now left up to my accounting-challenged brain to manage. Under-performing members of the staff were kept on board for “familial” considerations. My recommendations were politely received but were not acted upon. The very people and systems that were supposed to be backing me up were the ones bringing both organizations down.

When these problems surfaced one by one early in on in my engagement, I chose to ignore them, and instead focused on “keeping the company afloat.” I worked hard to win clients and clients, manage staff and resources, and motivate my young team to “keep going.”

A couple of months later, however, I realized that the companies’ problems were systemic and could no longer be solved by what Peter Senge (in The Fifth Discipline) calls “Band-Aid solutions.” Like treating cancer, I had to remove the tumor from the organism instead of pumping it with antibiotics that at that point were already useless.

If I had seriously talked to myself early on and tuned in to my intuitive capabilities, I would have heard alarm bells ringing during certain moments and situations that I had largely just ignored.However, because I had ignored the root of the problems for so long and didn’t have the proper tools to take the correct action, the cancer had already spread throughout the organism and was already incurable by the time I decided to take drastic action. I was dejected, depressed, and feeling utterly helpless—like I had never felt before. Resignation, and a total withdrawal from the system that had engulfed me, was my only recourse.

This experience taught me a very painful lesson for both Life and business. Never, ever turn a blind eye on reality. Always strive to see the real picture whatever your situation is, because only then will you be able to develop (or find) real solutions. Optimism, passion, and faith can only take you so far when you are treading territory which you do not know.

When in doubt, and when life hits you hard, talk to yourself.

If I had seriously talked to myself early on and tuned in to my intuitive capabilities, I would have heard alarm bells ringing during certain moments and situations that I had largely just ignored. If I had stopped to ask myself what was really bothering me, I would have found a way to address both the people and the situations that were bringing me down. If I had only listened to the nagging voice inside my head instead of stifling it, I would have saved myself the trouble of taking this drastic action. The friendships that I had broken because of this might still have been saved.

There is a lot that I regret over some decisions and actions that I had made these past six months, but now there really is nothing left for me to do but embrace the pain, learn from my mistakes, and move on.

The new year brings me new hope for my professional endeavors. Before I embark on anything big again, however, I intend to take a month of to detoxify my system (both physically and “psychically”), to exercise regularly and get back in touch with Mother Nature, and to psych myself for even greater challenges ahead. I know that this “regretful situation” won’t be the last in my professional life; as an entrepreneur, I am bound to make more mistakes in order to uncover more hidden truths. But, at least, I can learn from this experience and make “better mistakes” next time.

And, as for engaging in more meaningful conversation with myself, I can at least start by taking time out to write in my nice, leather-bound journal and properly maintain this on-again-off-again blog.

* Names masked to protect the privacy of its board members.

A Spoonful of Sugar 2006 No. 9

WHEN LIFE HITS YOU HARD, TALK TO YOURSELF!
By Niña Terol

Lately I’ve come to realize that, perhaps, some of the most insightful conversations that we will ever have are the ones that we have with ourselves. That is, of course, if we actually take enough time to engage ourselves in meaningful discourse.

It’s not to say that people around us aren’t interesting enough to talk to—not at all—but if we just step back for a moment from the whirlwind of our frenzied lives, we might find that we actually have more to say about certain things than we think we do. Or we might discover that how we think we feel about a particular thing is quite different from how we really feel.

When we take the time to ask ourselves the right questions, we might surprise ourselves with our real answers.

In Letters to a Young Poet, the writer Rainier Maria Rilke writes: “Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far into the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.” For six months leading up to this writing, I had forgotten to even ask the right questions, instead convincing myself that I was happy where I was. An unfortunate series of events at work banged on my head and forced me to face up to a bitter reality.

When we take the time to ask ourselves the right questions, we might surprise ourselves with our real answers.

I shocked my business partners just recently when I announced my decision to tender my resignation as managing director of my current company, Company M*, and as caretaker of its “big sister,” Company S. Company M was formed just six months ago, after a foreign media group co-opted me and transformed my sole proprietorship, Likha Communications Consulting, into a corporation. On the other hand, Company S was an older entity, having been operating for nearly three years already when I came on board. Its old management team resigned en mass shortly after Company M was established—the circumstances surrounding which will take yet another blog entry to explain—leaving me to manage two fledgling companies that were still trying to create its identity in the nearly saturated design and communications industry.

As is what happens in many start-ups, the beginning was filled with much hope and excitement. The board expressed their optimism that, under my leadership, the companies would take flight and rectify mistakes made in the past. I was confident that my passion, my skills, and my leadership abilities would carry me and my team through whatever storm may pass.

Soon after my appointment, however, it became clear to me that I was working within an inappropriate system, with people who neither understood my industry nor had the passion and the commitment to undertake the changes that were necessary for both companies’ success. Most of the board members were part of a family which had been soaked in personal conflicts, politics, and a laissez-faire management style that didn’t make wrongdoers accountable for their actions. Debts that were unpaid by the previous management were now left up to my accounting-challenged brain to manage. Under-performing members of the staff were kept on board for “familial” considerations. My recommendations were politely received but were not acted upon. The very people and systems that were supposed to be backing me up were the ones bringing both organizations down.

When these problems surfaced one by one early in on in my engagement, I chose to ignore them, and instead focused on “keeping the company afloat.” I worked hard to win clients and clients, manage staff and resources, and motivate my young team to “keep going.”

A couple of months later, however, I realized that the companies’ problems were systemic and could no longer be solved by what Peter Senge (in The Fifth Discipline) calls “Band-Aid solutions.” Like treating cancer, I had to remove the tumor from the organism instead of pumping it with antibiotics that at that point were already useless.

If I had seriously talked to myself early on and tuned in to my intuitive capabilities, I would have heard alarm bells ringing during certain moments and situations that I had largely just ignored.However, because I had ignored the root of the problems for so long and didn’t have the proper tools to take the correct action, the cancer had already spread throughout the organism and was already incurable by the time I decided to take drastic action. I was dejected, depressed, and feeling utterly helpless—like I had never felt before. Resignation, and a total withdrawal from the system that had engulfed me, was my only recourse.

This experience taught me a very painful lesson for both Life and business. Never, ever turn a blind eye on reality. Always strive to see the real picture whatever your situation is, because only then will you be able to develop (or find) real solutions. Optimism, passion, and faith can only take you so far when you are treading territory which you do not know.

When in doubt, and when life hits you hard, talk to yourself.

If I had seriously talked to myself early on and tuned in to my intuitive capabilities, I would have heard alarm bells ringing during certain moments and situations that I had largely just ignored. If I had stopped to ask myself what was really bothering me, I would have found a way to address both the people and the situations that were bringing me down. If I had only listened to the nagging voice inside my head instead of stifling it, I would have saved myself the trouble of taking this drastic action. The friendships that I had broken because of this might still have been saved.

There is a lot that I regret over some decisions and actions that I had made these past six months, but now there really is nothing left for me to do but embrace the pain, learn from my mistakes, and move on.

The new year brings me new hope for my professional endeavors. Before I embark on anything big again, however, I intend to take a month of to detoxify my system (both physically and “psychically”), to exercise regularly and get back in touch with Mother Nature, and to psych myself for even greater challenges ahead. I know that this “regretful situation” won’t be the last in my professional life; as an entrepreneur, I am bound to make more mistakes in order to uncover more hidden truths. But, at least, I can learn from this experience and make “better mistakes” next time.

And, as for engaging in more meaningful conversation with myself, I can at least start by taking time out to write in my nice, leather-bound journal and properly maintain this on-again-off-again blog.

* Names masked to protect the privacy of its board members.