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BY KATH C. EUSTAQUIO-DERLA [caption id="attachment_11638" align="aligncenter" width="720"] Photo by the author[/caption] I wake up this morning in a bathrobe. The sun is already high in the sky and the breeze from the open terrace windows feels hotter. It must be nearing noon, I think. But the heat I...

BY KATH C. EUSTAQUIO-DERLA [caption id="attachment_11249" align="aligncenter" width="960"] Photo by the author[/caption] After lunch, I change into much more comfortable clothes and walk to the resort’s Meditation Sanctuary. It’s an open-space where masses are held, a space designed to help people find peace and quiet. The quiet part is...

BY KATH C. EUSTAQUIO-DERLA [caption id="attachment_10841" align="aligncenter" width="960"] Photo by author[/caption] I’d like to think that I’m a workaholic. I may have a problem with the occasional—okay, constant—tardiness but given that I live near the office, I am often the first to arrive and one of the last people...

BY KATH C. EUSTAQUIO-DERLA [caption id="attachment_10683" align="aligncenter" width="1920"] Image from Tookapic[/caption] Last night was a complete disaster. After the play, Collin and Matthew invited Denver and me to a round of drinks at some restobar along Jupiter Street. I politely declined after way too much urging from Collin. In...

BY KATH C. EUSTAQUIO-DERLA [caption id="attachment_10517" align="aligncenter" width="2252"] Photo by Emanuel Feruzi[/caption] I sense change, like how you can smell a thunderstorm before it hits. Matthew’s calls became less frequent. And then the calls became text messages. And SMS became chat messages. The blanket of bliss I’ve long...