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From the Archive: Fall down seven times, stand up eight | Nana Korobi, Ya Oki

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Life doesn’t measure us by how many times we fall—it measures us by how many times we rise. The Japanese proverb Nana korobi, ya oki means, “Fall down seven times, stand up eight.” It speaks of resilience—of never giving up hope and always striving for more. I never truly understood its meaning until life happened to me. Back in high school, we were asked to memorize poems, prose, and proverbs, but I never took them to heart. I wasn’t insensitive, just immature. I thought being academically smart was enough to survive. But life proved me wrong. It slapped me with truths I wasn’t prepared for. I’ve learned that survival requires more than intellect—it demands a strong heart and mind. Life stretches you, reshapes you, and humbles you until you learn to live with grace. Last year, I fell hard. My expectations were shattered when others sabotaged my attempt at growth. I made enemies, and “friends” shed their masks—revealing snake skins and striking when I was most vulnerable. They painte...
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The Courage To Be Disliked: Reflections on Simplicity | Book Review

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I can proudly say that 2023 was a year for the creatives. I painted a lot, I read a lot, but because of my hectic schedule, no book review made it here. And now, since I’m procrastinating my prelim study session, I want to talk about my recent read: The Courage To Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga. A Philosopher Who Says Life Is Simple The book explores Adlerian Psychology . I enjoyed reading it during my day-offs because there was so much to annotate. I’d already encountered Alfred Adler in past trimesters, but we never really touched the core ideas and subtopics. It begins with a young man full of questions about life and a philosopher who insists: life is simple. The youth disagrees, calling it hypocritical and preposterous. They then embark on a five-day discussion: the youth eager to prove the philosopher wrong, the philosopher eager to share wisdom. One exchange stood out: “That is not because the world is complicated. It’s because you are making the world complicat...
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Your story is yours to shape

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Yes, that’s right. Each of us has a choice in how we live our lives, no matter what cards we’re dealt. Some hands may be harder than others, but the power to decide how we respond. To rise, to endure, to create meaning—is always ours. Life isn’t defined by the cards themselves. It’s defined by the courage to play them with intention. Every day, we’re given small choices: to nurture peace instead of conflict, to create instead of compare, to move forward instead of stay stuck. These choices may seem ordinary, but together they shape the story of who we are becoming. So choose boldly. Choose gently. Choose in a way that feels true to you, because your life is yours to shape. You have a choice. -E.
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I used to peel my oranges until ...

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I used to peel my oranges until he did it for me—without being asked, without hesitation. He did it with a smile, and without expecting anything in return. His gestures weren’t glamorous, flashy, or dramatic. But they were real. He peeled oranges even when it was inconvenient for him. Sticky fingers, quiet patience, a small act of service that spoke louder than words. He stayed by my side when I was on the verge of breaking down, cheering for me to continue.  The Orange Peel Theory says that love is revealed in the little things, like peeling fruit for someone. But his patience and care go beyond the theory. It wasn’t just about the orange. It was about showing up, even when life (my life, specifically) was messy. It was about choosing tenderness over convenience, presence over absence. And maybe that’s what love really is: not the grand gestures, not the spectacle, but the everyday rituals and little things that make life softer and grand. The quiet acts that no one else sees. Th...
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Journey to Mindfulness

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In 2022, I told myself that I would practice stoicism and mindfulness to counter my tendencies toward overthinking. That decision led me to start blogging: sharing my thoughts, feelings, insights on life, book and movie reviews, and more. I wanted to be intentional: to explore my inner world and write with purpose. Yet, my mindfulness journey has never been a straight line. There were times when I failed to follow my own values and principles. In those moments, I would remind myself, “That’s okay. I’m still human, with emotions. I’m bound to make mistakes and learn from them. I’ll try again tomorrow.” That has been my pattern for the past four years. I fail, I learn, I pick myself up, I continue. Over time, I’ve realized that the more you ask for peace, the more chaos seems to appear. The more you practice being stoic, the more life throws triggers your way. I'm resolved to think that it’s life’s way of teaching patience, perseverance, and radical acceptance. As someone controllin...
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Rebranding, Labels, and Being Perceived Online

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Lately, I’ve been itching to rebrand myself online — to take back control of how people perceive me. It’s funny how much weight we give to our digital selves, right?  Because whether we admit it or not, perception matters, especially in the digital world. A lot of young adults today barely post on Instagram or Facebook. Their feeds are curated with black-and-white photos, millennial gray aesthetics, and those effortlessly cool bios that make you think, wow, they’ve got it all figured out.  Meanwhile, I’m still stuck in my 2016–2019 Instagram era. Random posts, no theme, just vibes. At one point, my feed didn’t feel “grown up” or aligned with who I am now or who I’m becoming. That’s when the thought hit me: maybe it’s time to change my online persona into something more… sophisticated. A traveller. An artsy girl. But then again, aren’t I already that? (Kidding… sort of.) Here’s the thing: rebranding isn’t about pretending. It’s about catching up. Letting your online presence re...
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Notes from Vulnerability

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In a world full of people who are quick to judge me for what they hear or see — without ever truly knowing me — I feel lucky to have my man, Patrick. He’s the one who took the time to understand me, who listens when I’m not in my zone, and who reminds me that my voice matters even when I struggle to believe it myself. Being vulnerable isn’t easy. I’m scared of judgment, of being called too expressive, too emotional, immature, or reactive. I’ve been told those things more times than I can count, and honestly, I don’t think I can take another negative review of my character. It weighs on me, and sometimes it feels like the world only sees the surface, never the soul underneath. Yesterday, I broke down crying. I realized I don’t feel my spark anymore. I don’t feel my soul inside me. The things that used to bring me joy: my hobbies, my little rituals, even the simple moments,  feel distant. Since December 2025, I’ve been living in autopilot mode, just going through the motions without ...
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