Beddy-bye Baby Dreams

Just last year, heady with my new-found financial independence and single-woman empowerment, I boldly declared that if by the time I turned 35 I had still not found a suitable partner to start a family with, I was going to have a baby. On my own. By hook or by crook.

I have since then changed my mind.

Parenthood is hard enough to adjust to with a supportive partner, let alone flying solo. There is absolutely no way I'd be able to do the single mother thing. And my hat is off to the courageous women who have managed to pull it off - whether by choice or by necessity.

Don't get me wrong. I love kids and babies. I won't deny that I experience some twinges of baby envy when I see most of my really good friends with their cute little progeny. I wouldn't be averse to having one or two in the future (assuming my eggs meet the deadline) despite my abject fear of the enormous responsibility surrounding raising them. I just don't think I could do it by myself. Well, maybe I could if I had to, but at this point I don't think I really want to.

I really admire women who are able to strike a balance in their lives and pull off "having it all." At this point in my life, I can barely deal with what's happening at work and being able to stay on top of my laundry. Maybe that makes me a shallow single person who refuses to grow up, but chronologic age does not necessarily reflect psychological maturity.

Maybe I'll change my mind a few years down the line, when I've gotten a handle on what it is to be a responsible adult and a better concept of life balance. Until then, I'm happy to borrow my friends' babies for my cuddle-fix - because I know I can easily return them when they become fussy or need a nappy change.

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Wanderlust

My year here has gone by with astonishing speed. I've made no secret of the fact that the time I've spent here has been nothing short of idyllic. Despite working a steady job and finally getting a life, my time here has been something of a vacation.

In this meantime, I've been able to hold off making some major decisions. I've been able to settle into life without a plan, without a map, and no clear vision of what I will be doing, say, 5 years from now. It's all still an absolute blank.

Is it all the open-endedness that is making me suddenly feel very antsy? Or is it because I am more of a free spirit than I actually thought and that the possibilities are the driving force behind my vague restlessness?

It's crazy. It's radical. It may be the by-product of an insanity resulting from suddenly being lost after being stuck on a plan for most of my life. At an age when I should be thinking about settling down, acquiring assets, making a family... I'm having fantasies about leaving medicine and working as a barista as I move from one country to another, seeing the world one city at a time.

Okay, maybe that's a little bit extreme... but you guys sort of get the picture.

I'd been conditioned to have very definite views on where I would be at this particular point in my life... done with my schooling and on the way to being established in my career; married to a stable, reliable guy; getting started on the 2.5 kids - pretty much on the way to living a comfortable, if ordinary, happily ever after. I'd always fancied myself as a home-and-hearth type of person, and I know I'm the kind of person who will always need to put down roots. I won't lie that I don't want all of the above someday - because I do. But...

Maybe not just yet.

I recently had lunch with a younger but wiser friend of mine - who has lived a much more interesting life than I have even if I have almost a decade of living over him. This is one of the perks of living in a land where people are all raised to indulge their wanderlust. Ozzies, I've found, are born nomads. Maybe it's because they have so much space to roam in.

There I was, whinging about how lucky he was that he could just up and go wherever he wanted on a whim, when he cut me off with a very succint, "And who told you that you couldn't?"

I started to give him a list. Society, family, my own need for security, blah, blah, blah... to which he countered, "But all of that is in your mind. Can't you do what you want and still be living up to people's expectations?"

Tantalizing thoughts.

His last piece of advice to address my restlessness? "Maybe it's just time for you to move again."

The roads are open, the possibilities - while not endless - do exist.
This is not me. I hate change. I don't want to go to another city and start over... do I?
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Realizations

Part of the Bibbulmun Track going through Pemberton's karri forest, Pemberton WA.
Taken with my Nikon D40.

I got this off a Facebook tag that one of my friends completed. Since I've always loved those sentence completion psych evaluations, it was too good to resist.

But apart from being such a good writing prompt (yes, I am still smack dab in the middle of writer's block), I like its congruence with my current thoughts as I look back on this past year - and look forward to growing another year older, if not much wiser.

1. I've come to realize that my hands... do good work.

2. I've come to realize that my job... is something that I actually enjoy most days despite my protests to the contrary.

3. I've come to realize that when I'm driving... I am comfortable with not really knowing exactly where I'm going and enjoy the journey wherever it takes me - even if I get lost every now and then.

4. I've come to realize that I need... to be more confident in myself about what I can do and what I can offer and be proud of how far I've come - and be less reliant on the approval and opinion of others.

5. I've come to realize that I've lost... some tinting off my rose-colored glasses.

6. I've come to realize that I hate it when... people don't do what they say they're going to do when they say they're going to do it.

7. I've come to realize that the person/people I like... give me a different perspective of life as I know it.

8. I've come to realize that money... makes it easier for a doctor in training not to feel pressured about getting to the next level of training.

9. I've come to realize that people... respond well to being wished a good day, even by a complete stranger.

10. I've come to realize that I'll always be... a person who will value having roots.

12. I've come to realize that my mom... does the best she can.

13. I've come to realize that my cell phone... is often better off inside my locker the whole day.

14. I came to realize when I woke up this morning... that I'd have another sleepless night tonight. Arrrgh, night shifts!

15. I came to realise last night before I went to sleep that... I am causing my muscles to tighten up by sleeping on the office chairs.

16. I've come to realize that right now I am thinking about... whether or not I'm ready to move on to the next level - and another place - and I'm terrified.

17. I've come to realize that my dad... means well but worries too much.

18. I've come to realize that when I get on Facebook... it closes the distance between me and my friends.

19. I've come to realize that today... I've put off doing things that needed doing - again.

20. I've come to realize that tonight... I will be working again.

21. I've come to realize that tomorrow... is overbooked with friend-time after having days upon days to myself this past week.

22. I've come to realize that I really want to... explore the possibilities for a while longer.

23. I've come to realize that life... is much richer when you go at it full on.

24. I've come to realize that this weekend... is such a gift of fine weather on what should be the middle of fall. Yes, my beaches beckon!

25. I've come to realize that (my ex) all my "never was-es"... was just Fate's way of leading me here.

26. I've realized the best music to listen to when I am upset... would be something I can sing to.

27. I've come to realize that my friends... the real ones, will always be my friends.

28. I've come to realize that the past year... has seen my life open up in ways I never imagined.

29. I've come to realize that the last person I kissed... sadly, I probably won't get to kiss again.

30. I've come to realize that when people walk out of my life... they leave a space that no one else will ever be able to fill.

31. I've come to realize that my most memorable age was when I was... this year. :)

32. I've come to realize I will not trade... financial security for happiness.

33. I've come to realize that I like... being me.

34. I've come to realize that I cannot leave home without... a sense of adventure and a sense of humor.

35. I've come to realize that the sports I like... I have to completely zone in to - and lets me forget everything else going on in my life while I'm doing them.

36. I've come to realize that the top three things I find attractive are...
someone with an insight born of having lived life to the full and appreciating all that he's experienced so far, a sense of humour, and a positive outlook.

37. I've come to realize that ... even at my age, I'm young - and life has really just begun.


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I Don't Feel Like Dancing...

For most of this year, I've felt positive, energized, and empowered.

Today just hasn't been one of those days.

I should be thankful that my city by the water has made it so easy to embrace solitude. It's hard to feel lonely alone when surrounded by reminders of how beautiful the world actually is. I get worried sometimes that being here has made it so frighteningly easy to be content in my own company.

But there are days when even being close to my beloved ocean, running by the river, or lying on the grass in one of Perth's myriad open spaces staring at the bright blue sky all fail to soothe.

And those times I just feel alone - and wonder what the hell I'm doing here.

Middleton Beach, Albany early on an overcast morning, taken with my Nikon D40

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Solitude

Therefore, dear friend, embrace your solitude and love it.

Endure the pain it causes and try to sing out with it. For those near to you are distant, you say.

That shows it is beginning to dawn around you; there is an expanse opening about you. And when your nearness becomes distant, then you have already expanded far: to being among the stars.

Your horizon has widened greatly.

Rejoice in your growth.

No one can join you in that.

- Rainer Maria Rilke

* * * *

Taken in Middleton Beach in Albany, WA, early on an overcast morning, using my Nikon D40 Click here to read the rest of this post.

Living in my Now

with my race buddy, Adam

I did it! Number 824 finished her 10 kilometer run in one hour, nine minutes and change, and hardly winded at the finish line. Who'd have thought I'd be doing something like this just one year later? Certainly not me.

I know, I know, 10 kilometers is hardly a marathon - and, to hard-core running enthusiasts, not really much to crow about. But if someone had asked me this same time last year to put on a pair of track shoes and gear up for a 5 kilometer WALK, I'd have told them that they were out of their mind.

I've always been a big fan of metaphors for describing my life. And, to date, there's no better metaphor for my now than having finished a 10 kilometer course, running all the way. Something I'd never even dreamed of doing - and have now done.

My list is hardly be the stuff adventure movies are made of, given what a sheltered, limited life I've confined myself to so far. It's been a huge effort to lock away my inner mouse - that afraid, high-strung part of myself that's always telling me I should be serious and get back into the rat race because I'm running out of time - and to embrace my impulsive, fun-loving, i-can-do-anything inner goddess just looking out for the next new adventure.

The transition from being a mouse to goddess (ha!) takes a bit of easing into when one has been living the life of a mouse (and by choice) for far too long. My mouse and my goddess often have roaring fights, let me tell you, and I still find myself stuck and dithering smack in the middle. But I'm making the effort to choose the braver option more and more.

Like driving at speeds greater that 100 kilometers per hour. Flying off to the other side of the continent on impulse. Wearing a bikini top (but with board shorts, hey! I wouldn't want anyone to lose their lunch) at the beach. Exploring my new city completely solo - and loving the whole experience. Being utterly comfortable being on my own. Opening myself up to the option of uprooting myself once again and starting over in another city.

I've heard it said somewhere that the most important journeys lead us further into ourselves - and they usually happen exactly where we are at the moment. I had to travel 5,179 kilometers from home to take that journey - and while I haven't found all of myself yet, I'm slowly but surely getting there. And adding more to my list of never-would-have-dones along the way.

Yes, I can say that my middle of nowhere, as I live in my now, is a truly great place to be.

* * * *

A contribution to Ligaya's The TBR MD's: Their Lives and Letters.

As a post-script, to make this post fit in to what she's looking for - and for the curious to find out exactly where I was just a year before, I've linked some key blog entries chronologically leading up to this one - just so you guys have an idea what a long journey I've been on since a year ago, if you have the time to read. :)

Straight Roads
Arrested Development
Stop, World, I'm Getting Off!
Defying Gravity
Life Begins at 30
Breathing Room
Proud of Me
Nine Months

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Nine Months

me, trying to bring home an image of Bunker Bay (Dunsborough, WA)

It's hard to believe nine months have passed since I began my "great adventure." Nine months since I'd packed my bags and come to this city I'd never seen with nothing but 2 suitcases and the clothes on my back, armed with nothing but the vague hope that doing this "one brave thing" would open up my life. Nine months into the year I said I'd give myself to breathe.

Time has certainly flown - and, to a great extent, I along with it.

In these past nine months, I've fallen in love with this city on the water, with its slow pace, easy rhythms, and stunning beauty. I've learned to appreciate the value of being on my own and, conversely, to open my heart to precious friends that would once have been so "other" to me. More importantly, I've learned to revel in the gift of this solitude, and to be more forgiving and loving to the "me" that's slowly emerging from her long time hiding place.

Nine months later and I can't believe how far away I am from the straight and narrow road I'd complained about walking on all my life. I've never been more aimless, yet I also don't remember ever feeling as free.

On the other hand, I'm no closer to a definite long term plan now than I was nine months ago. I may have signed on for another two years with my current job, but I'm still thinking in terms of living from the next few months to the next.

I know I have to start sorting out my life, to get into a training track while the opportunities are there. While I love my life here in Perth and cannot imagine leaving, I also know that it's time I started exploring my options. I know I have it in me to start over once more in another hospital, even another city, if that's where the opportunities are - I know because I've done it once.

So, no, I'm not yet up to making plans. But I am open to more possibilities - wherever they may lead me. Who knows where I'll be even just another nine months from now? The thought terrifies me, but it's heartening to realize that no matter where I'll be, I know I can handle it.

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Landing with a Splat

Modern pop culture will never run out of material to peddle romantic love upon hapless, easily influenced people. Whether it's in the form of the ubiquitous boy-meets-girl-and-they-live-happily-ever-after rom com movie, the prolific body of romance fiction, the music we listen to, the ads we see... yes, the whole process of falling in love has been beaten to death - and yet, we all still suck it in.

What they don't tell you, though, is that for a good number of people in the world, the whole romantic love thing often ends with one landing with one huge splat.

It's so easy to be cynical about the whole love thing these days. How can't I be when I'm surrounded by long-standing relationships falling apart? I recently took care of a patient who had recently divorced his wife of more than 50 years - he's 73. How does anyone get divorced at 73? Talk about disposable.

I've always been pretty pragmatic about relationships, consistently leading with my head rather than my heart, whether I am viewing others' romances or my long string of never-was-es. Despite never being in one myself, serious or otherwise, I know it takes a lot of hard work and commitment to make things work. But even then, there are still no guarantees.

It makes me wonder sometimes why people even bother trying.

The odd thing is, though, there's still a part of me that believes it is possible. Possible to fall without landing in a big, messy splat. Possible to make things work and go the distance. Possible for relationships to survive even when the amorphous Hollywood love has faded away and grown to become the real thing. And when it does happen - and thankfully I've seen this, too - it's a wonderful thing to see.

Besides, as one wise friend of mine says, "No one has really ever died from a broken heart. You can cry a little, hurt a lot, and then you get over it. You always get over it - and come away stronger and wiser besides."

So maybe that's why, despite the odds, people still keep trying. Because part of us all want to believe it can be possible. And because anyone who is too afraid to let himself fall will also never experience what it's like to fly.

I hope someday I can meet someone who makes me forget all about the ground so far below, just waiting for me to crash land. It must be wonderful to leap off that edge and just let your heart fly.



A late, very late, submission to Em Dy's TBR Round Up on Love.
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Random Thoughts on a Tuesday Morning

(WARNING: When I say random, I mean random. Don't throw shoes at me when you get to the end of this and think, "And what exactly was the point of all that?")

It's been a while since I last struck up a conversation with you guys.

Not really because there hasn't been much to talk about, but more because since I no longer share quite as anonymously as I used to, I've had to be a bit careful about giving into my verbal diarrhea and emotional exhibitionism. There are just some things that I'm not quite as comfortable sharing with people who know me - or maybe it would be more appropriate to say, people who think they know me.

So why am I doing in front of my laptop instead of using this extra morning time (because I set my alarm too early) to blow-dry my hair?

Because I can't help these occasional descents into random babbling, that's why. Even when the only audience is my keyboard.

I've been toying around with the idea of taking up pole dancing. Seriously! It's supposed to be a great upper body and core work out and heaps of fun - and I just may be light enough these days to actually lift my body weight on a pole without pulling my arms from out of their sockets. Plus, and more importantly, it's something I would never do back home - something which is fast becoming my battle cry these days.

I have no illusions about my dancing ability - as one of my friends put it, I have the grace of a pregnant elephant. But it sounds like fun. And while dancing is probably at the bottom of the barrel as far as my skills go, I actually love doing it especially when no one else is watching. Or at least no one who knows me (and knows I can't dance) is watching. So what better place to learn to pole dance but in this city where no one knows me, in a country where one of the prevailing philosophies is, "live and let live?"

Obviously, it's really self-consciousness that's a curse. And for some reason - I don't really have a lot of time to do actual research on this right now, but I'm sure it's written down somewhere - Filipinos seem to have an overdeveloped sense of "what-will-people-think-itis." Probably because, as a people, we Filipinos have no qualms scrutinizing the lives of perfect strangers and indulging in thoughts along the lines of, "what-in-the-world-are-they-thinking-doing-that-itis!"

Which is why most of us just sit in the sidelines and watch the brave, crazy people doing their thing and having the time of their lives - not really caring that they look funny doing so. And why most of us may laugh and pretend to be appalled by what we see, but inside, we're really just that little bit envious and wishing we had the guts to do that, too.

I'm currently reading a self-published booklet of thoughts written by a 36 year old man who is terminally ill with ALS - like Morrie in Tuesdays with Morrie. He's the very good friend of one of the people I share a house with, and it's the copy that he gave her that I'm reading. He's been battling with the disease for two years now, and, suffice it to say, he hasn't been winning. Which is why he's decided to distill his take on the meaning of life into that little booklet.

It's been interesting reading so far. At times he gets very abstract and a bit difficult to understand - or maybe that's because I was plodding though some parts at two in the morning - but it's a very real reminder of how short and how precious life is coming from someone who knows that his time may soon be up.

One of the things he cites is how toddlers - who are almost as mobile as us but still not fully verbal - live their lives so differently and so naturally compared to how we live them as adults, trapped in all our abstractions. As he puts it, toddlers' only pre-conditioned physiologic motivations are to QUESTION, MOVE, EXPLORE, CREATE, RELATE, and feel JOY.

"Joy is the natural outcome and quality of the organism, expressing and doing what it desires to unimpeded by external guilt or shame."

Basically, he points out that with all our complicated, adult verbal views and self-conceptions, we've basically managed to limit ourselves from drawing on those basic motivations and finding joy - or basically, living life.

And he poses some interesting questions as well.

"No matter what you do, how much you save, who you know, where you go, what you believe - you're going to cease to exist, always sooner than you think. Do you do what you do because you assume (it will) make you live longer? Or do you live knowing your life is on loan, and the only thing that matters is your daily experience of your life?"

As I said, interesting stuff.

All that being said, I hope that the pole dancing school will get back to me on the whether we can get around class schedule issues that conflict with my weird roster. And if it doesn't? I'm sure I'll find something else.

Okay - off to work now!

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Prices Based on Twin Share

a panorama of Busselton Beach (2 hours out of Perth) by Dave Curtis

My itchy feet have been acting up again, and they, along with the unexpected gift of 4 days off coming up on my roster, have turned my thoughts to travel dreaming once more. After all, while I was in residency I couldn't stop complaining about how I never had enough time from the hospital to travel - so what kind of crazy fool would I be to pass up this opportunity?

Along those lines, I've put my OC skills to researching flight costs, bus fares, and accommodation costs - a painful reminder of the harsh reality that going places costs a pretty penny. Struggling to keep my penny-pinching side from screaming me into abandoning the idea completely, I determinedly plodded on, only to run smack-dab into another frustrating stumbling block.

In my quest to plan my first-ever solo holiday, I have come to discover that the travel industry is not at all kind to single wanderers. All the bargain holiday packages come with the following clause attached, "Prices quoted based on twin sharing."

It's almost enough to tear a single girl's hair out in frustration.

I've been having an inner debate on whether or not it would be a good idea to fly over east to Melbourne (where I've been several times before) to spend a few days with the relatives, versus traveling by myself to somewhere in the vast and beautiful state of Western Australia which I've never seen before.

Option A would definitely cost me less and be the safer and wiser choice - but where would be the adventure in that? I don't deny I'd enjoy seeing family again after six months of being totally cut off. But taking a plane ride or a long-haul bus ride to visit relatives at some far-away destination is definitely not the same as planning on a whole vacation - even a short one - entirely on my own.

On the other hand, every single girl should have at least one solo holiday under her belt. Despite my best intentions, I've never actually gone on a holiday solo. After proving I can be independent after my life-altering move to Perth, I figure it's high time I smashed through my self-imposed limits of needing a travel companion to indulge my insatiable wanderlust. And I figure there's no better time to do it but now.

Now if only the logistics would fall into place.

I still haven't booked where to go - a must given that it's the height of summer here and school holidays are in full swing - because I haven't quite made up my mind where to take my itchy feet. I'd love to drive my car over because in Australia a car is an absolute necessity when exploring the overwhelmingly huge countryside, but I'm not sure I'm quite ready for that yet. I can always take a bus from here to the country towns, but I won't have wheels to get from one attraction to another when I get there.

Then there's that irritating, totally discriminatory twin-share rate.

Obviously, at this point, I'm still in the process of trying to figure things out. I just know that one those four days off, I will not be in Perth and be off having an adventure somewhere - on my first-ever solo travel holiday. I'm open to suggestions... does anyone have any? Click here to read the rest of this post.

New Year Blues

I've been a bit uninspired blogging-wise over the past few days... I think the grime of having worked through the Christmas holidays is still upon me and has just been a bit tough to wash off, even after a few visits to my favorite recovery room.

I've been thinking of drastic solutions to this funk I'm currently in. I was planning on taking a solo trip out of town to fill up a 3 day weekend I have coming up at the end of the month, but my plans are all up in the air at the moment due to accommodation and transportation issues.

It would be nice to fly off somewhere - but the air fare will cost me at least half the cost of a new dSLR or a whole 120G iPod... not quite worth it for just a 3 day weekend. I thought of going to Rottnest Island, off the Perth coast, by ferry - but it's high season, so there's no room to be had. I'm currently looking at the possibility of going to a couple of resort towns down south by bus, but it might not be a great idea since it will be hard to get to the scenic spots around them without my own car. And I'm not quite ready to drive that far and that fast by myself.

Retail therapy sounds like a nice second-line remedy, but I've been getting myself some post-Christmas bargains by way of jeans and bathing suits - and it's only been a temporary fix. Maybe it's time for me to buy a new toy - not that I can really afford it right now with my car rego and my visa renewal costs coming up but desperate times and all that.

It's a toss up between a dSLR (I'm thinking a Nikon D60 with a VR twin kit) which is more expensive and a risk as I don't know how serious I am about photography; or a new iPod (120G) which is cheaper and will definitely more utilized but my trusty old iPod is still holding on and still working quite well.

I'm trying to clamp down on my miserly side and just jump into a purchase and enjoy the fruits of my holiday labors, but, as all my good friends will attest, I am one of the most indecisive people to go shopping with. I will chew a choice to death until the bargain eventually gets away from me. Most of my major purchases have been made under the impetus of both necessity and some serious prodding by whoever I was shopping with at the time. If I were by myself, I'd spend weeks just looking and looking and LOOKING and eventually end up not buying anything.

So, what do you guys think? Should I go for it, or just save my money? Will a new toy manage to cure my new year blues? The solo holiday is still on the table, but a new toy to stand in as a date may not be a very bad idea...

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Proud of Me

It's been almost exactly a year to the day that I wrote about my decision to defy gravity. I remember the terror of standing in front of the gaping Unknown and gathering whatever courage I could muster to prepare for that unprecedented leap.

It's a huge leap for anyone to make. But for someone who is as resistant to change, security-loving, and approval-seeking as I am, doing this in defiance of all that was sensible and practical and SAFE... it's beyond describing.

It's only on hindsight that I realize just what a leap of faith I took. Not only did I get off the safe and straight road I wasn't sure I still wanted to be on, but I traded the security of home and family for life on my own in a city where I knew no one, to which I came with literally only the clothes in my suitcases and a lot of hopes and prayers.

I guess I didn't recognize just how trapped and unhappy I was in my life back home - even if I had almost everything I needed and my life seemed to be on the right track - until I found the gumption to just make that change.

I was right. Having made one brave choice in defiance of what is expected, everything else has followed.

So here I am. I'm not just surviving - I think I can say I'm thriving. And I can say with certainty that, despite my being away from all that is familiar, despite still not having a plan, despite still not knowing how far I still have to fall - I am most definitely so much happier.

Over the past few weeks, I've had several conversations with good friends who have known me for years, heard me complain about the rut I'd stuck myself in, and encouraged me to take the drastic steps I needed to get out of it. And in as many conversations, they've all told me the same thing - that they're proud of me. Not just of what I've done so far, but because I'm making an effort to open up my life to even more possibilities.

It's heartening and touching to know that they see a change, continue to believe in me, and are totally behind what I'm doing - even if I really have no idea just what it is I'm doing at the moment. Their belief and encouragement help firm up my conviction that, hey, I guess I should be proud of me, too.

Because a year later, I'm still flying. And at this point? I can't see any end in sight.

I can feel it. It's going to be another great year.

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Christmas Out of the Box

In spite of my efforts to be positive about my first Christmas away from home, it was still difficult not to feel homesick and lonely and just a little bit sorry for myself as I ate my lonely Noche Buena of chili-flavored cream cheese, crackers, and hospital-issue minestrone soup in the doctors' office on Christmas eve. I realized that even our past Christmases at work did not prepare me for the impact of spending Christmas so alone, so very far away.

I decided to work through the holidays simply because I didn't really have any plans with other people - and I figured being alone on Christmas at work beat a microwaved meal passing for Christmas eve feasting at home.

Despite being at work, as I ate my meager repast, I couldn't help but imagine what I was missing. The raucous, cheerful atmosphere around the table at home at the same moment, with aunts, uncles, cousins, and my immediate family, feasting over Mom's kare-kare, Dad's dinuguan, and all sorts of gastronomic goodies Filipino and continental; the mayhem of family sitting in front of the tree, exchanging gifts and tearing open packages. I've always been a bit of a Christmas scrooge, but being far away has heightened my appreciation of the family rituals surrounding it.

The long distance phone call my family placed from my Aunt's house where the clan was gathered for Noche Buena (which was inevitably cut off mid-call) and hearing everyone's good wishes were pale substitutes for actually being there.

I didn't really set out to spend the holidays alone, but it would have been too complicated to shuffle my schedule to accommodate an out-of-town trip to visit family and friends across the continent despite the sincere invites I'd gotten from them months in advance. Besidses, all of my Perth friends have opted to spend the holidays over east, and most of my family in Melbourne have flown off to spend Christmas in Manila. As I sat alone in the doctors' office through the night, waiting for admissions and referrals and fighting off a monster headache due to working three nights in a row, I thought I should have made an effort of get time off instead of braving my first Christmas alone, but it was too late to do anything about it but make do.

After I realized I had missed morning Mass (the only one for the day in my small parish), I came home from work this morning hoping that I was exhausted enough to sleep through the day. But I was awake by early afternoon, and all alone in a very quiet house because my other housemates probably had plans to spend the days with their friends and family. For late Christmas lunch, I microwaved a portion of roast Chicken I had bought a few days ago with a generous dollop of spicy Mang Tomas lechon sauce to remind me of home, which I ate at the table with my landlady's cat for company.

Determined to shake off my funk with an endorphin high, I decided to head off for the beach and go for a run. It was the best choice I made all day, as the summer sunshine and the brisk breeze off the beautiful, green Indian ocean melted a good portion of my blues away. It was a good reminder that while there are things to be homesick about, being here has definitely had some great rewards - and being able to run along the coast I loved on a whim was one of them.

I topped off my strange, solitary Christmas day with more comfort food in the form of Lucky Me instant pancit canton reserved for special occasions like this one, as I finished off the opened bottle of bubbly in the fridge. The best part of the late evening, though, was long-distance conversations with well-missed friends whose voices I was so glad to hear. And as my night wound down, I realized that the day hadn't been quite so bad after all.

Yes, I survived my solitary Christmas out of the box. Still, nothing beats being able to spend Christmas at home - and, God-willing, I'm hoping that's just where I will be this same time next year, even if it takes some schedule juggling.

So I'm sending special wishes to everyone out there like me spending this holiday season far away from home, making do with friends, surrogate families, and long-distance phone calls in lieu of being with their loved ones. Merry Christmas and all the best to you - and may the love and warmth of family and friends reach out to embrace you even if they are oceans away, no matter where you are.
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Expanding my Territory

People who have been following my blog for a while know that driving has always been one of my favorite metaphors for life. Being the wanderlust that I am at heart, it's difficult not to see life as one long drive on a meandering network of roads and choices, leading to landmarks and destinations, being almost constantly in motion one day after another.

It's also hard not to keep coming back to driving as a metaphor these days when it's the current everyday skill that I am currently trying to figure out. And it's hard not to compare this experience with how my life out here is shaping up to be.

I've been driving regularly on the wrong side of the road for about a week now, learning to understand the road rules, getting the hang of crossing wide highways without the protection of a traffic light, becoming comfortable with speed, trying to familiarize myself with the roads that I've been so used to only walking.

Most of my drives so far have been short and to places pretty close to home - to work, to the shops, to the occasional fast food chain drive-thru. I've even chanced a few long drives under supervision of friends crossing the city to the coast and back. And every day, I try to do a little more, drive a route that I'd been afraid to try the day before, and go just a little farther afield.

Coming over here was a pretty drastic way to jumpstart my life. By finding the gumption to travel further from home and choosing to wander into the unfamiliar, I have been rewarded many times over. And I find that every day, I am able to do learn a little more, change a little more, and grow just a little further - in the way I see the world, in my willingness to embrace experiences, and in the way I see myself.

There's still so much to see, so much to discover in this wonderful journey of life -and this new place I have chosen to meander in. But I love knowing that I am, without a doubt, constantly expanding my territory.

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Cheers!

Going into the sixth month since I took my flying leap into the unknown, it appears I am finally getting the semblance of a real life over here. A life that, despite my current state of limbo, I am very much enjoying.

What's not to enjoy? I'm making new connections, finding new interests, and discovering myself in this city that feels less like a stranger and now more like a friend each day I live in it. Sleepy Perth on the water may not have the cosmopolitan feel of Sydney or Melbourne, but I'm still quite surprised at how well we suit. I'm still surprised at how I love the laid-back, outdoorsy lifestyle and the absence of the maddening crowd I'd grown up with in busy Manila. I'm still surprised at how the simple beauty of the city still packs a punch even as the novelty of being here has begun to wear off.

I'm still surprised at how it's beginning to feel less like other and a little bit more like home.

Finding new friends has been a big factor in helping me ease into this life. While having had this time alone has taught me much about myself, being around new friends has taught me even more by giving me fresh perspectives. I've been blessed enough to have found people outside of work to intrude upon this forced solitude and alter the once solitary pattern of my days. And it's great knowing that there are now actually people who care for and worry about me within a hundred kilometer radius.

I still can't quite believe that the year I had originally planned to stay here is almost half done. I'm still flailing in the chasm of the unknown, but I'm having a great ride while I'm at it. While I still can't quite picture where I will be even just six months from now, I am savoring my uncomplicated state of simply living in the now.

Maybe, just maybe, I really am settling in. And that's definitely something to drink to.

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Taking It Outside

Clear blue skies. A cool spring breeze off the ocean. Pristine white sands. Turquoise water as far as the eye can see. A dedicated bike/pedestrian path along a low cliff overlooking it all.

For a dedicated beach lover and wanna-be-runner, there was probably no better setting for my very first outdoor run. At last.

Let me digress a bit just to give you a background about how I've finally gotten to this point - particularly because I almost didn't even allow myself to get this far.

If you guys remember, it was just a couple of weeks ago that I literally ran myself full tilt into knee trouble. Thankfully, one of the perks of working in a hospital is having physios on hand to evaluate me gratis, and after an impromptu consult, I was told what the problem was - I had almost-flat feet, with my left worse than my right. My nifty new shoes were probably not providing enough arch support for me, specially on the left. The fact that I was being TOO enthusiastic about things and escalating what I was doing almost every day without rest periods in between compounded the issue.

As a result, just a couple of weeks into my attempt at making my walking legs into running legs, I was getting symptoms of beginning runner's knee.

I was told in no uncertain terms to back off, at least until I was pain-free. I would have to go back to a lower degree of intensity in the program I was following and to take recovery days. I also had to get better arch support - or else.

Apparently, my spirit was willing, my heart and lungs were capable, but my ligaments and my feet were weak.

After being told off by the physios at work (you'd think I'd know these things being a doctor!), I had a good think about the whole running business. It was so frustrating to find out that I didn't seem to be biomechanically suited to the sport I'd chosen - after I'd already set goals for myself in it and convincing myself I could do it. Also there were, after all, a myriad other sports out there that were less impact on the knees and didn't require a person not to have flat feet - like biking and swimming - and I only had one pair of knees. I was seriously considering junking the idea altogether.

But after a few days of sulking and literally sleeping with an ice pack on my left knee, I figured I wouldn't be giving myself a fair chance if I gave up on it so quickly. So I went out and got a pair of off-the-shelf orthotics for my running shoes, (which initially felt like having golf balls under my arches but now feel great) and backed off on my treadmill work (which meant endless workouts on the mind-blowingly boring elliptical machine for several days in lieu) until I could squat without having my left knee scream at me.

In a week, I was doing the prescribed runs on my C25K program to the letter on the days I could run - and taking full recovery days in between. I worked my way up to a full 30 minute run on the treadmill a few days ago - a little more that what I should be doing in Week 6 - but pain-free during and after. So I am being cautiously optimistic that my shoe inserts and my easing up on myself are doing the trick - and that I just may be able to continue my pursuit of this running thing after all.

To celebrate my first ever 30 minute run, I felt ready to take things outside. Hence my impulse trip to Cottesloe Beach armed with only my jogging shoes, dorky belt-bag, and one application of sunblock. (And, while off-topic, can I say again how awesome it is that I can actually commute to a beautiful beach any time I feel the urge to?)

Okay, maybe all I could work up to today was about 30 minutes of run - and a whole lot of walk (at least 5K total, I promise). Give me some time, I'm going to work my way to a solid 5K run soon and take things from there.

Nothing can take away from the reality that I actually ran along the Sunset Coast jogging path, wind cool against my face, water on one side, and open road as far as the eye can see. And I really can't imagine a better setting to discover that I can actually do something that I'd never imagined I'd ever do than this.





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Boy Toy

This is Vincent - two going on three and charming as anything. Every time we are together, he makes it a point to go through my handbag and demands I give him a blow-by-blow commentary about every single thing in it. He isn't quite capable of coherent three-word sentences and can't quite pronounce my name yet, but we have managed to bond over his Megablocks and my Palm Pilot's Insaniquarium game.

And, right now, he's the closest thing I have to a steady date.

In an ironic twist of fate, it seems that my karma of being the odd single out has followed me here. I've been adopted by an awesome group of Pinoy friends, all in my general age group, great company, and who really look out for me despite my being a complete stranger to them in the beginning - and, believe me, I know just how blessed I am to have that. The only catch is - they're all paired up, three married couples - and one kid.

At the moment, I have a bit of a reprieve as another new friend has flown down from Manila recently and joined our growing circle. But her husband is coming in late November to join her - before the group sets off for some summer traveling.

Leaving me, of course, with the little charmer as my partner.

I've already asked his mother if they have any objections to betrothing him to me and allowing me to marry him once he is of age. It's more than a 20 year difference, but what's a few years in the face of true love? His parents have agreed, tongue-in-cheek, provided that I take care of all his academic expenses from Year 1 to college. The only downside is, by the time he's ready to marry me, he may already be really preparing to take care of me in my old age.

Hmmm, maybe I should offer to adopt him instead.

In the meantime, I will brush up on my three-year-old-speak, install more easy games on my Palm Pilot, and make sure I have interesting things and treats inside my purse. I may not have been born with the skill to catch the eye of grown guys - but I'm fairly sure I can keep my latest love interested in his grown up playmate!

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Coming into Her Own

video by carine23

It's strange how things sometimes conspire to remind me of certain life lessons that I still need learning - all within the same week.

It all began with this blog entry by my blog buddy and romance guru, Evil Woobie.

Having written about singlehood on and off over the past few months - mainly because it's one of the circumstances that tilted the scales towards taking this particular life adventure I am currently on - I couldn't resist posting a comment to her post in reply.

it’s a cliche that everything happens for a reason, but i believe it - and that all the events in my life so far have led me to where i am today… a happy place to be. :)

i am so happy i had the chance to do this on-my-own thing and discover that i can be this person - strong, independent, and ready to take on anything. achievements aside, looks aside, and relationship-status aside, i know i’ll always have that under my belt and it is an accomplishment i will always be proud of. :)

I don't think that I've sounded as well-adjusted as that in a long time. (My long-time friends might even attest that I've probably NEVER sounded that well-adjusted, as I have always lived with the cloud of my myriad neuroses hanging over my head.)

But while I am certainly in a good place at the moment, there are days when it doesn't take a lot to propel me outside my happy place. It's probably because I've been so used to being so down on myself for so long that actually feeling good about me takes a lot of getting used to. And sometimes I have to fight quite hard to keep the negative voices from drowning out my inner cheerleader in training. Specially when the snarky comments come from important people in my life who sometimes say things that chip away at me simply because they don't know any better.

In keeping with my current lesson plan, I had such a moment just a few days after my enlightened comment on Woobie's blog.

For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was tumbling into the same old self-destructive pattern I've gotten used to for years - defensiveness and defiance. But, in a surprising victory for my inner cheerleader, I suddenly realized that what these people said didn't matter.

Because, for the first time in a long time, I actually feel dang good about me.

I'm brave. I'm strong. Life stretches out before me that's still filled with all sorts of possibility. And I kick ass.

And no one can ever take that feeling away from me but me.

Lots of people grow up knowing this simple truth - but what can I say? I'm a very slow learner.

It's high time I let my inner cheerleader come into her own - and give her room to dance.

* * * *

Post Script: This song is currently on tops on my "Girl Power" list at the moment. I love it because it has such a positive and powerful message. And it's also very true. I was looking for the original music video to embed on this post, but I think this slideshow I found on YouTube pretty much does the trick.

Don’t Need You To (Tell Me I’m Pretty)
Samantha Mumba

I don't need you to
Tell me I'm pretty to make me feel beautiful
I don't need you to
give me your strength
To make me feel I'm strong

I got all of this strength that I need
here inside my own two hands
All that I want is your love and respect for who I am
What I really need comes from deep inside of me

Don't need you to tell me I'm pretty to make me feel beautiful, no
Don't need you to make me strong, cause I’m strong all on my own
Doesn't come from outside
This beauty I know
Comes from inside my soul

I don't need you to
believe in me to make me know I'm worth believing in
I don't need you to
lift me up high to know I can stand tall

I can stand my own ground, I can stand proud upon my own two feet
Don't have to be part of somebody else to be complete
What I really need
Comes from deep inside of me

Don't need you to tell me I'm pretty to make me feel beautiful, no
Don't need you to make me strong, cause I’m strong all on my own
Doesn't come from outside
This beauty I know
Comes from inside my soul

Don't need to come to you for confirmation
Because I finally found this revelation
What I really need I’m gonna find inside of me
Not in somebody else
Respect, comes when you respect yourself

Don't need you to tell me I’m pretty
To know I’m beautiful

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Confessions of an Unreformed Sweet Tooth

diagnosis: one of the best cheesecakes i have eaten. ever.
cheesecake shop's mississippi cheesecake.

Of course I knew I had low-fat yogurt in the fridge at home - I just bought them yesterday. Vanilla, cheesecake, and apple pie flavored yogurt, 8 tubs in all, each just 73 calories.

But there are just days when you can't settle for anything but the real deal.

Which was why I found myself at the nearest service station at 730pm (after getting there on foot, mind you), rummaging through the freezers and looking for the lowest calorie ice cream treat I could find. Did you know that most ice cream bars are AT LEAST a 180 calories? Frankly, I really never wanted to know - but, unfortunately, due to my diligent label checking, I now know.

Luckily, I did find something that suited - a small cup of classic vanilla ice cream, just 110 calories for a small sojourn in sweet tooth heaven. Just in time, too, because the people at the cash register were beginning to give me strange looks after seeing me hovering over all three of their freezers for almost 15 minutes before settling for my treat and paying for it.

What can I say? The spirit is willing, etcetera, etcetera. And when you live in the land of Cadbury chocolate and Tim Tam, it can be quite challenging for any forsworn sweet tooth to to stay on the side of low glycemic index eating.

As part of my personal health reform agenda, which I've embarked upon to avert certain disaster - specifically a date with probable early onset diabetes - I've been trying to wean myself away from unhealthy sweets and going for the more healthy substitutes. Which translates to stocking muesli bars for chocolate bars, fruits for lollies, and, yes, yogurt for ice cream.

While that has managed to work for me somewhat, it's hard not to give in to temptation every now and then. Not having the object of my addiction on hand may prevent me from indulging regularly, but when I'm craving for the real thing, going out of my way to get my fix is not going to be a problem.

I'm trying to practice the value of moderation in this particular area in my life - and buying into the joys of muesli, fruit, and yogurt more often when a craving hits. But I still allow myself one mini-sized chocolate bar every now and then, as well as real ice cream (gelato!) when I want a treat. And no matter what anyone says - I am never, ever going to be able to turn down a slice of cheesecake. Ever.

I am, and always will be, a sweet tooth. I consider it both a blessing and curse, but it will always be a fact of my life. Curse, because it can be so hard to resist indulging in my favorite things in the world and damning the health consequences. Blessing because it doesn't take a lot to make me happy - just a great dessert has the power to make my day.

And, really, in this complicated world of ours where there are just so many things that can get you down, don't you agree that it's sort of great to be able to experience joy from a simple sugar rush? Click here to read the rest of this post.

Pushing Beyond Creaky Knees

photo credit: unknown - if it was you, let me know :)

I've finally decided on my new outdoor sport for my first spring-summer season in Perth - running.

Okay, it's not a water sport. But it's fairly simple, no-frills, and it doesn't require the kinesthetic prowess of an Olympic athlete, just lots of discipline and persistence - things I sorely need to develop anyway. Plus, it complements my insatiable wanderlust and is a great way of burning calories and getting fit while going places.

So a couple of weeks ago, I bought my first pair of good running shoes as a part of my commitment to my initial goal of working up to a thirty minute run. Overwhelmed by enthusiasm and the novel experience of being able to even jog without experiencing excruciating shin pain - something that has always turned me off running in the past - I was literally up and running.

I've started with the Couch to 5K running program, an 8 week training program that builds you up gradually to doing solid 30 minute runs from being totally sedentary. I started on Week 3 using the health club treadmill, and I haven't looked back since. I'm currently on Week 5 Day 3, going on Week 6 - which means I've actually worked my way up to a solid 20 minute run with minimal walking breaks. All of this has been treadmill work because I haven't had time to research outdoor running routes and my current schedule doesn't allow me to do a lot of wandering at the moment, but once my schedule opens up, expect me to be out all the time.

On the downside of things, beginning such a high-impact sport has made my body go into serious protest. My knees, in particular, are on strike and officially hate me.

I now know what morning stiffness feels like. I can almost hear my knees screaming every time I stand up after sitting for so long. My ankles squeak occasionally in accompaniment. My shins organize episodic protests but not quite as frequently.

Okay, okay, I admit I've been a bit of a dunce and, due to my gym addiction problems, haven't really been taking enough recovery days in between increasing my running time. But I have been a good girl about the stretching post-runs and continuing my strength training. The moans-and-groans of my muscles could probably be just a normal reaction to finally being used after happily hibernating for so long.

My friends tell me I just have to be careful that I'm not overdoing things - which means taking more time to recover from my workouts, running or otherwise. (Which is why I am blogging instead of slaving away at the gym right now.) Going for recovery days is actually a challenge in itself, because just the thought, "Hey, I can do this!" actually spurs me on that much further, creaky joints be damned.

The experience has been awesome, and a fitting counterpoint to what this year and this move has been all about.

I can't wait for the day when I'm finally doing my thing along the Swan River foreshore or the Sunset Coast jogging path, wind cool against my face, water on one side, and open road as far as the eye can see.
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