I turned another year older last February. Thirty-one. Which means I have officially entered early-thirties territory. An age where I’m supposedly old enough to know better. And in many ways, this is true. I know what I want, I know my non-negotiables, I’ve discovered cultures different from my own, I’ve traveled out of my comfort zone, and I’ve reached that point where I’m self aware enough to know the difference between my acting like a fool and making that conscious choice to actually let myself be foolish (read: it’s fun; go ahead and give it a try).
In some ways, I guess I do know better. But if you take into account how vast the world is (and the galaxy! #geek), how each of the seven continents has its contingent of distinctly different countries, cultures, languages, idiosyncracies…and the fact that I’ve yet to fully explore mine…and then there’s all that information available now and I’ve barely mined through all that data (and i’m not just talking Big Data; funnily enough, i am able to decipher I.T. now)…and all the future mind-widening conversations I will have with people i’ve yet to meet…it’s safe to say that while I might know more than I did in my “turbulent twenties”, I still do not know enough. There is still so much to learn and explore and discover. I’ve barely scratched the surface. Really, what do I know?
These were the thoughts that came to mind as I stared out into the horizon, worshipping Helios, a glass of sub-zero piña colada in my hand, in my very red sunbed at the private Punta Bunga beach of Boracay Shangri-La.
Officially my first “breather” since the year started.
I’ve always made it a point to escape somewhere on my birthday weekend, but 2015 is turning out to be a year of just going with the flow and I ended up saying “yes” to everybody’s plans and have thus far not been making plans of my own. And for a girl with itchy feet and who’s somewhat of a planning freak (I make it a point to plan a trip per quarter, otherwise I go crazy restless), this current state of just “surrendering” has been both liberating and daunting—it scares me shitless, really.
That aside, I’m grateful for the “pause” I got last weekend. While this trip to Boracay is technically official magazine business, to say that it was “work” would be deluded. “Work” consisted of a photo shoot, food tasting, and a few interviews spread out over the course of three days. The rest of the time was spent engaging in ridiculously funny conversations, sipping happy hour piña coladas and iced coffee, glutton sessions at breakfast (and lunch and dinner), and adding three more gorgeous sunsets to my collection.
More than anything, this weekend is yet another reminder that I am one lucky duck—and I will never take that for granted. I saw this quote while lost in the Pinterest vortex, which aptly sums up my current state of mind: “My life may not be perfect, but it has its perfect moments.”
Some of my favorite snaps from this weekend:
Here’s to another year filled with perfect moments <3