Hello, fellow mortals of the Earth!
December is famous for many things, but it is most unspokenly infamous for being The Month You Think You’re a Superhuman Who Can Do Everything. Christmas shopping! Holiday home decor! Go, grace every party and reunion with your presence! But wait, have you kicked off your annual review, yet? Don’t forget to take that cute, festive photo of yourself with your dog (or cat?) and share it online with a tl;dr year-end reflection paper! Also, professionally, how are you ending your Q4 strong? And how ‘bout that passion project? Enjoying the Christmas carmaggedon just yet?!
Maybe when you’ve ticked off those 100 things on your to-do list you can finally get around to feeling that “holiday spirit”, eh?
Yep, it is a freaking crazy season. And as the Grinch would have it, I got sick last week and have been operating at about 75% of my normal capacity with what feels like a 150% loaded plate. That’s Super Ria for you.
You know, the unique thing about December is that, despite all its shenanigans, the season will find a way to force its reflective essence.
Unfortunately, for me, that was the flu. Lol.
Today’s newsletter is about that experience, which made me think about a broader struggle I’ve had this year, which led to a broader life truth that needed much reinforcing.
Also, I thought it would be nice to do this in honor of my discontinued writing project. Called How To Life, I set out to write a monthly hero piece in a form that was the cross between a personal essay and self-help, and every title began with “How To”. I thought I’d end the year with one last attempt.
That said, this will be my last newsletter for the year. Because I and you and everybody need to carve ample space for reflection and planning for the new year—and to truly enjoy the holidays.
Thanks for sticking with me through this way-too-long preamble. Let’s get to it!
Last week was a string of horrible decisions. I had many things lined up: My work team’s Christmas party and a friend’s despedida on Wednesday. Thursday was a holiday that I intended to dedicate to some side projects. Then I had tickets for a two-day music festival on Friday and Saturday.
On Tuesday, I woke up with a runny nose, an itchy throat, and a nagging cough.
My body temperature was stable, but I decided to take the day off so as not to risk the next day’s festivities. I got tested around lunchtime. And upon finding out it wasn’t Covid and remembering a deliverable due the next day, I decided to work half-day in the office. Wrong move #1.
I woke up the next day feeling worse. While disposing of tissue after tissue, I contemplated, gauged, and attempted to forecast the scenarios: Maybe I could rest the whole day, then be well enough to drop by both events? Or I could skip the Christmas party, then drop by the despedida to send off my friend? Or maybe I’ll do the hard but responsible thing and just… miss out on everything?
The third option won.
The next day, I hadn’t fully recovered, but I was well enough to think and function. I accomplished my to-do list and felt positive about my state.
Then, as if on cue, a text message came in.
“Baka magkita kami nila Sab laturrre.” (I might meet up with Sab and others later)
“HA!!!”, I replied. (HUH!!!)
“Wait Mnl ka ba now? Saan [mamaya]?” (Wait are you in Manila now? Where are you meeting up later?)
It was from a former colleague—one of my favorite friends—who I hadn’t seen since the pandemic and rarely get to see because he’s based outside of Manila.
Still coughing, I decided to push my luck. We were starting late in the afternoon anyway, so I struck this deal with myself: Okay, we’re going. But we’re going home early. And we are not drinking.
Well, I did good on the former, but the latter… was wrong move #2. And #3. And #4. (That’s one for every glass of wine)
I spent the next day nursing a double whammy of a semi-flu and hangover, and I missed the first day of the music festival. The following day, I felt slightly better, but in any case, I told myself I simply couldn’t miss out. I was going to catch my favorite artist live. I was not going to watch my 13,000 pesos go down the drain.
Then I got there and realized that I could’ve just gone at night and given myself more time to rest. I still would’ve been able to catch the artists I really wanted to watch. And did I mention it was raining? Wrong move #5.
(As I write this, I am feeling better, albeit with a lingering cough.)
Of course, the lessons here are obvious: Don’t push your health. Don’t drink alcohol when you’re even mildly sick. In general, don’t make decisions in your late 20s assuming you can summon the tolerance and energy of your early 20s.
I know this may sound like I’m taking my health for granted, but truthfully, it was difficult not to insist that my physical state was survivable against these arguments:
But this might be the last time I’m going to see my friend for a long time!
But my friend is rarely in town!
But I need this side hustle for extra money!
When are you ever going to get the chance to see NIKI—your 2022 Spotify top artist—live again?!
Relationships, livelihood, and novelty—these were the things I had to weigh against my (relatively minor) health situation. Amidst all the reasoning, assessing how much further I can push myself, and deciding on what to let up, I was sorely reminded of what it means to be a mere human being. To quote Sylvia Plath, “I am horribly limited.”
I have written previously about how life is all a matter of compromise. What’s important is to make those compromises deliberately—to be awake not only to the choices that you’re choosing but the trade-offs that you’re trading. But even if this is something I feel I’ve become better at, it’s difficult to not let the forgone alternative weigh on me.
In 2023, as the world ramped up and sprung back to normalcy, I didn’t expect to feel so disoriented, to struggle so much in deciding what to say yes to. In various contexts and degrees, I am constantly torn between two options where neither choice seems wrong, wasteful, or inferior.
I want to enjoy this independent life, but I also want to spend more time with my family.
I want to respond to the call of my extrovert roots and experience cool things with my friends, but I also feel so deep in my introverted side, feeling the urge to hibernate for days on end.
I want to stay home and luxuriate in a book or in preciously editing my work, but I also want to say yes when my sister or a best friend spontaneously invites me to go out.
I want to drink and stay up late on a Friday night, but I also want to wake up at 8 am on a Saturday, sober and psyched for slow, unrestricted writing.
I want to explore new spots and experiences in the metro, but I also want to save up for a trip abroad every year.
I want to crush my Goodreads shelf, but I also have an exponentially growing Pocket list.
I want, as Cheryl Strayed did to get better at writing, “to read voraciously, memorize the work of writers I love, and record my life copiously and artfully in my journal”, but I also want to scratch my dance itch even if it just means settling for TikTok dances.
I want to build a readership, but I also have 10,000 disparate things I want to write about—some of which might be too esoteric, experimental, or simply indulgent.
I want to explore more lucrative writing gigs, but I also want to give my all to every edition of Skinny Deep.
I want to be present for every person who has supported me profoundly in a certain phase or aspect of my life, but given all that I’ve just mentioned, I can’t.
On the surface, I know it sounds like such a scattered life or a self spread too thinly, or worst, the naivete of wanting to do or have everything. As a once immortal and ignorant student, that’s exactly how it was. But today, I realize that I just seem to be at that point where an expansive, well-rounded, and balanced life matters a great deal to me. A certain Gabrielle said it perfectly in this article as her definition of success: “I personally want to value wholeness. I want to value strong relationships. I want to value curiosity, finding my gifts in the world, and giving them uncompromisingly.”
But what I’d like to hammer on isn’t so much the kind of life I want to lead, but what that kind of life entails: a whole lot of negotiation.
More and more I’m realizing that life is basically an ongoing negotiation. Of course, it helps to define your non-negotiables and to have a good understanding of your top values (and, hence, the tasks and events to prioritize in your life). But even then, you still have to split your “living resources”—your time, money, and energy—amidst all those indispensable factors. If they’ve all been proven to be real sources of meaning and fulfillment, if each option simply reflects one side of the multifaceted diamond that is your true self, then how do you treat all of them? How do you go about these decisions?
The common wisdom is this: Admit that you must drop things. Something must go. As James Clear wrote, if you try to keep up with too many things, “you have to accept that you will never reach your full potential in any given area.”
But I can’t help but think, what if I don’t feel the need to reach my full potential in one area? Or what if, to me, that prospect pales in comparison to reaching the full potential of life?
The entirety of the Sylvia Plath quote I mentioned earlier goes:
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones, and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.
What I’ve realized this year is that, though I can’t negotiate my way to having everything (that wouldn’t be a negotiation in the first place), I can negotiate my way to a present moment that feels most fulfilling to me. I can enjoy things in doses that feel just right. I can simplify, name a few non-negotiables, and embrace everything else as wiggle room. I can make room for the full texture of living, navigating (responsibly!) through both the good and the bad, from the spontaneous invites to the random flu.
2023 will be a whole new set of considerations, both known and unexpected. A whole new deal to broker. Fortunately, there’s last week’s series of bad decisions and a whole year of internal debates as input; their outcomes and consequences, aided by my most important values—such as creativity, empathy, and friendship—broadly shape my terms. I think I’ll be able to negotiate better.
A few resources that might be of help as you prepare for 2023:
How and Why to do a Life Audit by Ximena Vengoechea
This Filipino Slang Word Helped Me Figure Out My Theme of the Year by me
Last three things:
No matter how insane this year was, no matter the ups and downs, please recognize that YOU. MADE. IT! Read that again. YOU DID IT. That is reason enough to celebrate!
I’ll say it again: Please do everything you can to genuinely, thoroughly, and unapologetically enjoy the holidays! (I will try my very best to follow my own advice.)
Thank you. For allowing some fun-sized Filipina to grace your inbox this year. It truly is a privilege to write for you.
Be back sometime in January!
Merry Christmas!