The Yogini @ 40

Not quite. I am yet entering my 40th year on this planet (technically 39 years and 1 day old) and I just want a catchy title for this entry 😛 Besides, Rose, a friend whom I’ve known for more than half of my life, told me that it’s a Chinese tradition to celebrate one’s milestone a year ahead.

I did not have plans today. Oh yes, I did–I planned to pray, stay home, and do nothing until yoga time comes (hmmm, not really what I told my friend when she asked me about my plans for the day). Since I discovered it four years ago, yoga has always been part of my birthday ritual, which simply consists of the things I love doing the most. Yeah, I love yoga enough to miss the showbiz talk shows on Sunday afternoon. 😦

But then I remember, I wanted to have a grand celebration on my 30th but it never happened because of the crises that occurred both in my personal and family life. And I remember, too, that I have always wanted to dine at Heat but am in constant search for grand occasion to justify the extravagance. “Hey, it’s my birthday! It’s grand enough.” Hence, I sent my friend a message “Changed my mind. Let’s have dinner!”

Thanks to the Yap descendants 😉 Jonathan1, Jonathan2, and Rose

Thanks to all who sent me their best wishes!


My spontaneity though could be quite expensive. Years ago, I told myself that I wanted to have my honeymoon in Europe–and I was not even in a relationship then. But I thought “what if I never get married? I’d never get to see the place!” So I called a friend right away and in four months’ time we were already off to Europe. Oh, that friend also happened to be Rose.  And I am still unmarried.

Planning is overrated.


I am thankful to all who sent me gifts. And the gift I am most thankful for is the gift of life. This morning, I could not help but to be in awe about how I came to this world.

I am the seventh embryo (per the official count), sixth pregnancy (yup, we had twins), and third live birth in the family. My mom had always had difficult pregnancy and when my turn came, she was already under high-risk category at 37 years old. She was supposed to undergo the C-section on August 19–her choice, as she wanted to name me Manuela Luisa after President Manuel Luis Quezon who was born on this day–but on the evening of August 14th, she started having labor pains. At 12:30am the following day, I was born by normal delivery. (Just spoke with my mom–she said the doctor in the delivery room opted not to open her up because “the baby is strong, she’ll come out via normal delivery.”) Defiant and strong-willed since birth, that’s me.

My birth gave my mom so much relief–imagine, from the third month of her conception until I was born she had loose bowel movement so that we, mother and child, thrived only on soda crackers and water. Yeah, I was very much like the prophets in the Bible whose mothers were instructed by the Divine to eat only unleavened bread and water while they carried their children in their womb. That’s why sometimes I wonder if I could give Madam Auring a run for her money as the modern-day prophetess. Soda crackers and water…low maintenance since birth.

Then when I reached six months, I contacted a kind of virus unknown to science at that time (AIDS?) which my immune system could not defend my body from…because my blood was 75 percent less than the normal composition! But I survived (ang masamang damo….).

These incidents make me believe that I am meant to live at this time of history. As to why and what for, that’s what this journey is all about.


Grateful for the gift of life.


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