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As Fast as the Slowest

I love to drive. Being on the road with a destination set—when I’m not running late—is always somewhat entertaining. Over the years I’ve learned to enjoy the ride as much as possible and to plan for it when time allows. I might make a phone call, record an audio message for someone dear, or play music on the fly—depending on my mood, where I’m going, or who’s sharing the ride with me. Other times I hold a Rosary and pray, listen to a podcast, or remain completely silent. As I drive, my mind is rarely still. I let my thoughts drift and wander freely. Sometimes I’m lucky and have one of those aha moments; other times I simply sing my soul out. And no—you probably don’t want to hear my playlist. One thing I’ve realized is that, within the speed limit, we can only go as fast as the slowest. This often makes me impatient, disrupts my flow, and occasionally ruins my mood. That said, on a couple of occasions it has also saved me from getting pulled over. Going as fast as the slowest isn’t jus...
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The Law of the Open Door

I grew up in a country where earthquakes are a regular part of life. We distinguish between two kinds: the strong ones we call earthquakes, ranging from 7.0 to 8.5 on the magnitude scale, and the milder ones, known as tremors, which are below 6.9. Most of the time, we don’t panic—or even move—while tables jump in front of us. It’s only when the shaking becomes intense enough that, with a mix of annoyance and resignation, we realize it’s time to stand under a doorframe or get out of the house. Because homes and buildings can collapse during especially strong earthquakes, my mother insisted that we kept our doors open almost all the time, just in case we needed a way out. And in all seriousness—this can happen. It’s fascinating how deeply these “traditions” take root. Even though I no longer live in a place where earthquakes are common, I am still mentally wired to keep doors open at all times. As I’ve grown, I’ve come to understand doors in a very different way. Throughout life, I’ve en...
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A Childhood Mistake I Never Forgot

When I was around twelve years old, a friend and I used to toss a ball over the cars passing down my street. I know—it doesn’t sound like the smartest idea—but at the time, it was incredibly entertaining. There was a thrill in waiting for one to approach, perfecting our throws, and estimating the height of the ball against the speed of the moving car. The challenge made the game addictive. Inevitably, after playing for a long time, I miscalculated. One throw fell short, and the ball smashed directly into a car’s side mirror. The moment I heard the crack, my heart dropped. I was absolutely terrified—of the driver, and even more of my father. I knew I was going to get into serious trouble. Oddly enough, I don’t remember my father ever grounding me, but in that moment, I was sure this would be the time. After facing the driver and exchanging phone numbers so we could deal with the damage later, I went inside and told my mom what had happened. Then came the worst part: waiting for my dad t...
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Thanks for the Opportunity

I have to confess that most of the time when I think “thank you for the opportunity,” I’m being a little sarcastic. I rarely say it out loud, probably because no one would actually enjoy hearing it. The truth is, it’s hard to be genuinely thankful for hardships or to recognize the learning (or humbling) opportunities they bring in the moment. For example, I “thank for the opportunity” when, just minutes after I’ve finished tidying up the kitchen—doing the dishes, taking out the trash—another plate or glass mysteriously appears in the sink. I also “thank for the opportunity” while driving, when there’s a car in front of me going well below the speed limit. Thank you for the opportunity to grow in patience… and maybe for saving me from the speeding ticket I could’ve gotten three blocks ahead. One of the hardest opportunities to appreciate is the lesson of humility. When our ego gets hurt, the pain doesn’t just sting—it clouds our judgment, narrows our perspective, and can even isolate us...
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The Tranquility of Order

“ Peace is the tranquility of order ,” Saint Augustine wrote—Pax omnium rerum tranquillitas ordinis. For a long time, I understood this definition almost entirely in spatial terms. I am a very organized person, and walking into a room that is out of order makes my stomach tighten. It bothers me enough that I will often volunteer to tidy up—and genuinely enjoy doing it. I see physical spaces as reflections of our inner lives, so when I enter a room, I feel I can sense the state of the person who inhabits it. I notice where they rush, which corners they use most, and whether there is harmony—or imbalance—in heights, proportions, and distribution. Often, beneath the chaos, I sense that they are not at ease with it either. They simply don’t know where to begin. Emotionally, it can be overwhelming. We grow attached to so many things that sorting through them—especially letting go—feels distressing. I like things to be in order because order brings me ease. When I enter a calm, well-arranged...
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Connecting the Dots

One of the first things we learn to do as children is connect the dots. Little by little, depending on our age and skill, those dots may form a simple outline or a complex picture with hundreds or even thousands of points coming together to reveal a beautiful image or an architectural wonder. I’ve always enjoyed these activities because they give me a mindful moment. And even when the dots are so tiny that I need my glasses just to see the numbers, I still find joy in watching the final drawing slowly come to life. With time, I’ve realized that our lives work in a similar way. We also have “living dots” that we need to connect from our experiences, decisions, emotions, relationships, challenges, and memories. And how helpful it would be if these dots came numbered for us! Instead, finding their connections takes silence, reflection, and inspiration. There are moments when we feel lost, trying to make sense of what we’re experiencing. Other times we move forward without being fully awar...
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What Makes You Smile? A Small Invitation to Happiness

As I walk from one place to another, I usually let my mind drift and wander. Since I generally know where I’m headed, I give my thoughts the freedom to roam. Often, I plan the minutes, hours, and days ahead — finding ways to enjoy myself while making the most of my time, organizing the flow from one task to the next so my day feels full and meaningful. Other times, my mind latches onto something I’ve seen that, for some reason, captures my attention. It could be anything — nature, architecture, a person’s expression, a phrase written on a sign, a smell carried by the wind, or a sudden noise. I start making analogies and discovering connections I hadn’t considered before. The clarity of water. The restlessness of noise. The relationship between how someone stands and the expression on their face. I know I’m not the first person to wonder about these things, but I still love experiencing the process myself. It’s the thrill of those unexpected connections that leaves me in awe. Many times...
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