I insert my debit card's chip facing up into ATM machine. And I leave it until machine tells me to remove it.
Because the machine is processing its transaction.
I observe a man being frustrated. His phone is loading slow as he surfs the web. (I remember dialup connection was slow. It started from the 1980s to 1990s. We are used to high speed internet.) He keeps refreshing it. But his phone is not able to load the page.
Because his phone is processing.
My friend tells me a story of how he met a cute lady in Asia. It's similar to a romantic comedy movie. They both like each other. But time and distance are in the way. Because she is already seeing somebody. Relationships do come unexpectedly. He respects the lady. He'll be leaving. And he can't do anything. My friend will talk to me more about his story later.
Because he is processing.
I deadlift a career high at 275 pounds at only one rep. (I weigh 144 pounds.) I prevail it with an ugly form. After I finish the rep, I stop for a moment.
Because my mind (and body) is processing.
A friend sends me pictures of his delicious food in Malaysia. The number, 22:01, appears on my phone. I tell him you are only sending me videos. Because it is a duration time. I open the message. But 22:01 is when he sends it on my phone. (I set my phone as military time or 24-hour clock.)
Because my mind is processing.
During a hike, I like to stop and explore my surroundings. I also like to contemplate and ponder about life.
Because my mind is processing.
"Sit reasonably in a quiet place. And close your eyes. Second step is to bring in your full attention of the feeling of your breath coming in and going out usually to whatever it's most prominent. Your nose, your chest, or your belly. And the third step is the key," Dan Harris talks about mindfulness in meditation in Matt D'Avella's podcast episode, Reprogram Your Mind. "Because as soon as you try do this. Your mind is gonna go bonkers. And the whole goal is just to notice when you become distracted. And to start again and again and again and again. And in that moment (many people) when they (see) have become distracted, they think they have failed. Actually, that is a victory. That is the victory. It's a victory of real consequences. Because when you see how crazy you are, you are less owned by the craziness."
Because the mind is processing.
Processing occurs whenever and wherever my mind is able to accept, realize, and live at the moment. The mind is loading. And I give time for it. Because the mind runs and operates everything in body.
Processing has allowed me to be patient. It needs time to function and perform for the next task. I choose my time. I decide my priorities.
"I realized if I can't concentrate. I can't solve my problems. I can't stay with my problems long enough in order to get to a solution," Dandapani talks in Cal Fussman's podcast episode, On Learning to Concentrate. "How can I excel? How can I be a great flute player? Or soccer player? Or football? Or whatever it is if I can't focus? If every 2 seconds, my awareness is going somewhere else. So concentration is at the heart of every human achievement and endearment."
Dandapani believes anybody can concentrate. But it depends on your desire (and willing) to change.
"If you don't understand how the mind works, you can't concentrate. Understanding how the mind works," he continues. "Then, learning to be able to concentrate. Mind first. And then concentration."
Processing has also given me a better understanding about multi-tasking.
"Multi-tasking doesn't exist. I can give 100% focus to 1 thing, some simultaneous focus on 2 things," Simon Sinek tweeted. "3 or more & they all suffer."
For instance, I listen to a podcast while I clean room. I write this blog while I listen to instrumental music from composer and pianist, Marika Takeuchi. These are an exception.
I can't text message on phone and surf web on MacBook and eat greek yogurt at the same time. The mind and body overloads. I used to do this.
I prefer my mind to relax, adjust, and modify. I am able to set my priorities and plans in an efficient and simple way. And it reminds me to live in the moment.
I always dwelled in the past. And worried about the future. Dwelling and worrying expended my energy. I was always in a rush. I believed I must hurry to get everything completed. I was told you must work a lot to be more productive. I was taught to choose quantity over quality.
But it drained my mind (and body) mentally, physically, and emotionally. I never reached at my full potential.
We live in a fast-paced society.
I observe and scope my surroundings as I am processing. I used to judge others. It's the art of curiosity.
For instance, I observed a woman waiting in line to order her food. The restaurant was busy. She was bored. She used her phone as a "security blanket," until it was her turn to order.
My friend and I walked to the theaters. I saw a group of children sitting on a bench. They were busy on their phones. Nobody interacted or talked to each other.
Technology has its benefits too. It has evolved and grown right in front of my eyes.
For instance, I am writing this blog to you. And I am communicating to you. I share this blog through my FaceBook, Instagram, and Twitter. You are able to read it, if you have any access to high-speed internet.
My blog averages about 500-700 unique visitors every week. My ego is talking now. Thank you to the Internet, and Weebly.
A friend asked me, "What are you thinking about? Are you okay?"
He saw me quiet. And I was not using my phone. (I avoid using my phone when I'm with a friend or anyone.)
"I am processing," I told him.
I have developed a sense of mindfulness in processing, even though I rarely meditate. (I will start meditating tonight before I sleep. And set my timer for 5 minutes. I would like to meditate. And apply it as one of my daily habits.) I need to. Because I hear thoughts, emotions, inner-voices, and feelings in my mind. They are either negative or positive.
(It is normal. Everybody has it. We are human.)
They come. And they only go when I talk to my mind. I ask questions to myself. And I find a way to resolve or take it.
I hated hearing negativity in my mind. I decided to always filter it. I would forget about the negativity. But it would get worst. The mind can't forget. Because I can't just turn it off, like a light switch.
Trying to forget takes its toll. Every time I went to bed, they would come racing in my mind to the point where I can't sleep.
I enjoyed and loved hearing positivity in my mind. But my ego would take over.
"Right now, my books, and everything I've written has been a huge hit. And at some point in my life, I'm gonna write something that's not a huge hit. And if I'm not prepare for that," Mark Manson talks about his book, Everything is F*cked: A Book about Hope, in the Jordan Harbinger Show. "You can already tell that I've already analyzed this narrative in my brain. If I just told myself, 'I'm a hit author. And everything I write sells like fucking hotcakes.' The second something doesn't. It would cause an identity crisis."
Good and bad happen in life, such as the yin-yang symbol from Taoism. No matter I like it or not. I cannot control the outcome.
"Taoists believe that living in harmony with the way. A person will not have to fight against the universe's natural flow," John Bellaimey narrates and talks in TED-Ed.
Time never stops. My story will stop once I die, while life lives and continues on.
I'll end this blog entry.
Because I am processing.
Uncle Romel took my sister's life on Saturday, May 17, 2003.
He was 31 years old while my sister was 18 years old.
(I am 32 years old writing this to you.)
7 months later, he wrote a letter to my 16-year-old self and my parents. We each had a letter from him. (That was 3 letters total.)
And we were surprised.
At the time, I was in denial. I was grieving and mourning. I was not able to function. I had no sense of purpose in life anymore. I could not accept my sister's death.
I hated my Uncle. I wanted him dead. I wished somebody would torture and kill him. I expected him to feel the same pain and agony as how he stabbed my sister multiple times using a kitchen knife.
"What do you want now?" I asked myself to his letter while my parents heard me. "What else do you want from us?"
I didn't open his letter right away. Because anger took over my mind. I was swearing and cussing at his letter.
Finally, it took me about 15 minutes to open his letter.
I was curious. Because I wondered what exactly was his message to me and my parents.
It was an apology letter.
(Picture of his envelope and letter shown below. Dated on December 27, 2004.)
I still hated him. I assumed he was playing a game with me and my parents. And I thought he was lying to me.
"I will never ever forgive you. Go and die! My sister is already gone." I talked to his letter after I finished reading it. "You cannot fix it anymore! It is all your fault! You are making it worse by writing a letter to me and my parents."
My parents and I didn't want to forgive him. We decided to mail his apology letters back to him. But I forgot whose idea this was.
Before we returned his letters, I remembered my mom copying each of them in our copy machine. I was upset. But I allowed her to copy the letters.
16 years has already passed.
Last year, I was ready to reread his letters. But my mom misplaced them somewhere in her room.
Great news happened on Sunday, May 5, 2019. My mom was able to find the copied letters. Thank you, mom.
My mom gave me the letter. But I decided to let her open and read it to me.
As she read it, my 32-year-old self was sad. And I was crying. My mind was processing.
I remembered my solo trip to China from last year. I met a 67-year-old British woman, Liz, at a hostel in Shanghai. She was traveling too.
She held a grudge with her father. Liz went to his room. She found a letter.
It was an apology letter from him to her. Her father had already died. She read it in tears.
I remembered another solo trip to the Philippines (aka PH) from last year. I am glad to have visited my family over there. Because I learned my uncle was writing letters to everybody as well. I discovered it from my cousin.
Uncle Romel suffered from loneliness.
I was reading Johann Hari's book, Lost Connection: Why You're Depressed and How to Find Hope. He was learning more about loneliness from neuroscience researcher, John Cacioppo.
"Loneliness isn't the physical absence of other people, he said – it's the sense that you're not sharing anything that matters with anyone else. If you have lots of people around you – perhaps even a husband or a wife, or a family, or a busy workplace – but you don't share anything that matters with them, then you'll still be lonely." Johann writes. "To end loneliness, you need to have a sense of 'mutual aid and protection,' John figured out, with at least one other person, and ideally many more."
My uncle was asking for forgiveness. Nobody cared. He was seeking unconditional love. My uncle tried to find any way of communicating with everybody in his family, even though he hated to write and read. (No smart phones at the time.)
My family and I hated him for life. And we chose to ignore him, even myself. We saw him as a forever villain.
During my PH trip from last year, I also visited my uncle's gravestone. (He died in 2008 at Napa. And he was buried to his birthplace.)
After my mom finished reading my letter, she had 3 more copies. It was a letter to her and my dad.
And another letter written specifically to my dad. It was written in 2006. (My uncle actually had written 4 letters to us.)
The 2006 letter was returned to my uncle too.
He was still begging and seeking for us to forgive and unconditionally love him. It never happened.
Again, my younger-self wanted him dead when he took my sister's life. And he did die. My uncle lost his life on June 17, 2008 in Napa, California.
At the time, I was happy when he died.
"He deserved it," I told myself. "That's what he gets."
I got what I wished for. But my heart was still severely wounded.
I was still angry at my uncle, even though he lost his life in 2008. Because I wasn't able to love myself first. I hated everybody too. I chose to have enemies. And I held grudges.
For instance, my younger-self criticized my friends. I started secrets to myself. They never knew. This built my confidence. I always looked down upon everybody. Because I had insecurity.
Anger took control of my uncle's mind and body on the night of May 17, 2003. He wrote it in his letter too.
For instance, I know a father. He used his anger by yelling at his kids. Because he could not discipline them. His kids feared his temper tantrums.
One time, his 5-year-old son was thirsty for a soda drink. The father was annoyed by him. He took his son back to the store. He yelled and sweared at his son. He forced his son to get out of car. And to run as fast as he can.
The son was scared. He felt abandoned. He listened to his father.
The son was crying while he ran as fast he could at the shopping mall's parking lot. He was running away from his father. Suddenly, he heard his father coming closer to him. His father was chasing him down.
The father pushed his son down to the parking lot's pavement. And he started kicking his son. The father's anger took over his mind and body.
"I'm gonna call the cops!" a mother yelled from a distance. Her kids witnessed it too.
And she asked him if he was the boy's father. She continued yelling, "We will adopt him!"
The father stopped. He realized what he was doing wrong. The mother saved the 5 year old boy's life.
I have another story about anger taking over the mind and body. This happened about 6 years ago.
My dad was always giving his brother and his family everything. I was jealous. They came from the PH. And they have lived with us for 2 or 3 years.
Finally, they have moved out of my dad's house. I was happy. I don't need to see my dad always helping them anymore.
They contacted us for help a day after they left us. I ignored their phone calls. My dad was upset.
30 minutes later, I saw my uncle and cousins arrive at the house. I was angry.
"What do they want from us now?" I asked my dad. (It reminds me of when I was talking to my uncle's letter in 2003.)
I started yelling at my dad. We were arguing at each other. Then, my dad and I went outside on front yard. My uncle and his family witnessed our argument.
I shoved my uncle. And my dad wanted to fight me. I front-kicked him on the balls.
(I used my Tae-Kwan Doe skills on my dad. I never liked Tae-Kwan Doe. But my dad forced me to join Tae-Kwan Doe with him after my sister passed away. He was looking for a bond with me. Because we were grieving.)
I realized I did wrong. I walked away. And ran away from home. I was crying.
I held a grudge to my dad for a month.
My younger cousin had been physically beaten up from a classmate in her high school. I ignored it. They needed our help. But I was focused on my anger towards them. I was selfish.
From 2003-2008, I believed my uncle was waiting for somebody or anybody to comfort him. Nobody did. He couldn't take it anymore. He decided to end his life. My uncle didn't have any purpose to live anymore.
Uncle Romel, I am sorry to have completely abandoned you for 5 years. You are already forgiven. My friend, Liz, showed me it is not worth to hold a grudge on anybody, and especially, you. Her sad story made me realize I must learn how to forgive as well. My experience from solo traveling has taught me to be empathetic and compassionate. I didn't listen to your letters at all. And you were opening up about your flaws and mistakes for the first time ever. Uncle, you can hate me. But I want you to know I forgive you. And I love you.
"If we really want to love, we must learn how to forgive," Mother Teresa said.
Mother Teresa died in 1997. However, she was canonized as Saint Teresa of Calcutta in 2016. She cured a woman suffering from an abdominal tumor. And healed a man with a viral brain infection. She was able to wake him up from his coma as well.
I already have apologized to my enemies. I do not hold anymore grudges.
My heart has been healed.
I am at peace now.
For instance, I like to smile at strangers. It might impact them. And it might brighten their day, and maybe, life. Because they could be suffering from loneliness. They can see me as a creep. But I can't please everybody.
One smile can make a difference.
"Peace begins with a smile," Saint Teresa of Calcutta also said. "Smile five times a day at someone you really don't want to smile at; do it for peace."
Writing is powerful. It can last forever, such as the letters written from my uncle. It is meaningful too. For instance, it took me 16 years to finally forgive and unconditionally love my uncle.
Communication is key.
For instance, my buyer from FB Marketplace was interested in one of my items for sale.
"Just browsing through your profile. I find people interesting," she messaged me. "Everyone has stories to tell, even if they don't say a word verbally. You look pretty interesting. I relate to much of what you've written."
"Thank you for taking the time to read it," I replied to her. "I'm glad to hear your feedback."
Then, I heard her full story.
One of my readers might be my future wife.
Whenever I die, anybody can visit and read this blog. I would like my wife, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and more family members to see it.
First, I have to get myself a mate. We shall see.
For anybody reading this at the moment or future, you get to hear the tonality and vulnerability of my voice.
Everybody has a story to tell.
I sleep about 8 hours every night. I take a nap for about an hour or two every day.
One day is 24 hours. About 10 hours of my time is from sleeping. My body needs to rest, recover, and recharge in order to function and perform. And I am left with 14 hours in day.
It is being able to train my mind every single day, or else I will not be able to prioritize and minimize my time efficiently. (That is now a top priority in my life.)
Because I choose my time.
Every day is a challenge.
I was first introduced about priorities by reading Greg McKeown's book, Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less. (I read it about a month ago. I am slowly applying it.)
"Essentialism is not about how to get more things done; it's about how to get the right things done. It doesn't mean just doing less for the sake of less either," McKeown writes. "It is about making the wisest possible investment of your time and energy in order to operate at our highest point of contribution by doing only what is essential."