How to start journaling?

It is truly a challenge to start a journal, let alone write in it consistently. I’ve been journaling for eight years and have managed to be fairly consistent, though not daily. There have been days, weeks, and even months that I’ve missed, but I always come back to fill the pages with my observations and emotions.

Journaling is not a juvenile activity. It’s a powerful leadership tool used by many great individuals, from Winston Churchill to Anne Frank. For Churchill, journaling helped him navigate the complexities of his role as a statesman, allowing him to better understand himself, his world, and his place in history. In the case of Anne Frank, journaling provided her with a means to cope with the horrors of the Holocaust, offering a safe space to process her emotions and preserve her thoughts for future generations.

I started journaling when I bought a Midori Traveler’s Notebook in Hong Kong. At first, I simply wrote whatever came to mind. I didn’t find it difficult. I followed tips from Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, particularly the idea of “dumping” everything in my head to start. Attending a Mind Mapping seminar years ago also helped me organize my thoughts and keep the flow going.

Another key to my journaling success is reading. I always have plenty to say after reading an essay or a book. After all, they say you can’t write if you don’t read. Reading has been instrumental in shaping my journaling, and even if I can’t pick up a book or article, I make sure to read movie subtitles or anything I can.

So far, journaling has helped me clarify my thoughts. There are days when my mind feels cluttered, overwhelmed with ideas. In those moments, I sit down, grab my pen and notebook, and start reflecting on my priorities. Often, those thoughts evolve into to-do lists.

Those thoughts are just irrational fears. Writing them down helps me to view them logically, free from emotion. Fears can hijack your brain, but labeling them on paper cuts the wire, allowing you to reset yourself.

Journaling doesn’t take much time—only 10 to 20 minutes a day. I do it in the morning, right after breakfast, while sipping my coffee. This gives me time to clear my mind and start the day with a fresh perspective. If mornings are too rushed, journaling before bed works just as well. You can write anything that comes to mind, or even use daily prompts from Google.

You don’t need special tools—just a pen and notebook will do. The most important thing is to start.

Hope comes when you are at your weakest

I am currently reading Mistborn, a book my son suggested. Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn is a high fantasy novel set in a dystopian world ruled by the immortal Lord Ruler, where ash falls from the sky and plants struggle to grow. The story follows Vin, a street urchin with latent magical powers, who joins a group of rebels led by the enigmatic Kelsier to overthrow an oppressive regime. Their weapon? Allomancy, a unique magic system where individuals gain extraordinary abilities by ingesting and “burning” specific metals. The novel delves into profound themes like betrayal, hope, friendship, leadership, and the weight of prophecy.

I have never been a fan of the fantasy genre, but I decided to give it a try after coming across this C.S. Lewis quote that kept appearing in my feed:

“When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty, I read them openly. When I became a man, I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”

At this stage of my life, I’m reflecting on reconnecting with my younger self—embracing a sense of wonder and relying a bit less on purely rational, humanly skills. I want to be more hopeful, like a child eagerly looking forward to a Christmas morning.

Taking a chance on a genre outside my comfort zone led me to a passage in Mistborn that deeply resonated with me:

“Our belief is often strongest when it should be weakest. That is the nature of hope.”

Hope is the expectation that something good or desirable will happen in the future. It is the spirit that provides fuel to go through challenges. But it’s not about positive thinking or simply trying to manifest outcomes. Hope is something deeper and more enduring. Emily Dickinson captures this beautifully in her poem:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

From a theological perspective, hope is a virtue that directs man toward God, sustaining faith and trust in His promises. Even Nietzsche, often regarded as a staunch critic of Christianity, suggests a kind of hope tied to self-overcoming and embracing life’s challenges.

The essence of hope is that it often becomes most evident in dire circumstances—moments of death, failure, or loss. When we’re only worried or anxious about a potential challenge, hope feels like a mere mental vision. But true hope, as Mistborn and Dickinson remind us, carries a profound peace in the heart. It is in the storms of life, when everything seems lost, that hope takes flight, revealing its strength and grace.

Wholly Human: Class #1

A couple of weeks ago, I signed up for a free course at UA&P titled WHOLLY HUMAN: Integral Anthropology. Without knowing much about the course, I was intrigued by its title, which ultimately prompted me to enroll.

Today, I attended the first session of this three-part series, facilitated by Dr. Celing Tiongco, a long-time professor at the university. The class was attended mostly by members of Dr. Tiongco’s prayer circle and other professors, including the esteemed Professor Emeritus Dr. Paul Dumol.

The course explores Integral Anthropology, which integrates philosophical and theological anthropology with empirical findings from disciplines like biology, economics, psychology, and neuroscience, etc. . Its practical goal is to offer a holistic understanding of the human person by drawing insights from various perspectives rather than relying on a single discipline.

One of the central discussions focused on humanity’s trajectory:

  1. Existence – Man’s origin .
  2. Humanization – Learning and becoming truly human.
  3. Flourishing – Living well in all aspects of life.
  4. Final Destiny – Which, depending on one’s beliefs, is either nothingness or, for Christians, salvation.

A key takeaway for me is the way this course reframes the fundamental questions we collectively ask about life: Who are we? Why do we exist? What is our purpose? What guides our morality? All these questions converge into one profound inquiry: What is the whole truth about man?

Another important insight is recognizing that humans exist in a tension between good and bad, possessing the freedom to choose. While this seems obvious, it contrasts sharply with today’s culture, where “authenticity” often equates to embracing raw, unrefined impulses—our untamed, animalistic selves.

The session also highlighted a deeply resonant truth: man is broken by nature. This brokenness creates a sense of emptiness, which we often attempt to fill with desires and longings. Interestingly, the professor shared a study indicating that this emptiness is universal, affecting both those with and without mental health issues. This brought to mind the timeless words of St. Augustine:

“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”

I am looking forward to the next session. For now, we have been assigned some thought-provoking questions to prepare for our upcoming discussions.

Intensity vs. Consistency

Photo by Chait Goli on Pexels.com

The self-help and motivational genre often emphasizes grand gestures, powerful emotional highs, and the pursuit of rapid transformation. This approach appeals to the desire for instant change, encouraging people to chase after intense bursts of motivation and enthusiasm. However, this intensity is often short-lived and can lead to burnout, unrealistic expectations, and disappointment when quick results don’t materialize.

In focusing on intensity, the genre sometimes overlooks the value of consistency—small, daily actions that build sustainable habits and gradually lead to long-term success. Consistency, unlike intensity, requires discipline, patience, and resilience. It’s the slow but steady force behind genuine growth, the kind that accumulates over time and stands the test of challenges.

This cultural shift toward intensity over consistency can lead to people continually chasing the next big motivational boost or life-changing “aha” moment, rather than committing to incremental progress. It can create a cycle where individuals become addicted to the highs of motivation but struggle with the follow-through, leading to feelings of inadequacy or stagnation.

Ultimately, true growth often comes not from momentary intensity but from sustained, consistent efforts—the quiet, often unglamorous routines that build resilience, character, and enduring success.

The lasting impact of this MILO BEST commercial

I was 10 or 11, fat and tall, when I first saw this commercial, and boy, I envied how he, Louie, dribbled that ball. I would make sure to watch that commercial every time it shows. I would have recorded it if only I could. I was already playing basketball but knew that I could still be better by learning how to dribble, so I asked to be enrolled in MILO Best E. Rodriguez, where Waltermart is now, with my cousin. When I got there on the first day, I was intimidated by the big coach who welcomed everyone, Mr. Jorge. He was huge, and his voice boomed when he spoke. He scared me to death. Nonetheless, I went through the drills and practiced at home. What I did not know was that we will be judged on how we do with the drills. On the day of the exam, I did not go out of fear. He personally called our house to look for me. I got scared and did not return. What does a 10 year old fat kid know, anyway?

I chickened out. I did not know any better at 10. No one told me to go back and show up. Later in life, I realized that the most basic thing in any endeavor is showing up no matter what. And it is more than just trying; it is committing and persevering. This is where I think the role of sports parenting comes in. But first, I have no bad feelings toward my parents because, to them, sports were more of leisure than character development. In my case, I see it as a path to learning discipline and fortitude while liking what we do. In other words, whether you like what you do or not, nothing is easy, so keep on doing.

This realization helped me apply such lessons to my children. I just encourage them to join competitions and be there no matter what the results are as long as they put forth their best effort. But of course, every best should be better than the previous best, and this is achieved through practice and perseverance. I sign them up and make them go through the struggle, with us on the sidelines as cheerleaders. Because the lesson is not about winning or losing; the lesson is in the process, the struggle, the people who are there to support, and the opponents who are also friends outside the arena. The winning comes later.

Forty years later, the lessons brought by this commercial still live: show up, and never give up.