The Privilege Of Travel

I’m going to be honest, these past two weeks in Peru have really opened my eyes to my privilege. Growing up, I had seen and understood this level of poverty in the Philippines - though having food on the table was never a worry for me. Both my parents have degrees, taught at University and had good paying jobs when we lived there. We may not have been ‘rich’ by Western standards, but at the least, they had the means to help us migrate as a family. My parents’ hard work and determination afforded me this privilege.

What is privilege? Why do I think it’s hit me in Peru, and not when I go home to the Philippines? Privilege is an advantage that a person or group has because of their social position or economic status. Even though I have called New Zealand home for the last 27 years, I have been back to visit the Philippines since. It’s not that I turn a blind eye to the poverty or social injustices, we just grew up accepting that it’s the way of life. The culture is so ingrained that to affect change will be multi-generational, way beyond my own.

A Man, A Plan, A Canal, Panama

Did you learn about palindromes as a kid? As a lover of linguistics, I often wondered if other languages had them too. Let’s be clear about this post - I’m very much still a woman and don’t worry Mum, I promise that I am in Peru. At lunch, we actually walked past a canal, and as far as plans go, this trip is really teaching me to go with the flow. Synchronicity is the Universe’ way to reassure you they’ve got your back.

Travelling has always been a transformative experience for me, usually in a phase of my life where I craved change. We are not made to stay stationary (although it may feel like that at times), and when I have resisted that, the Universe steps in, guiding me back to my purpose. When I landed in Peru on Friday, I knew this is where I needed to be honest, and I can’t really tell you why.

The Language Of Loss: Giving Grief A Voice (Part 1)

How differently do we feel about and celebrate the ‘firsts’ in our lives? A baby’s first steps, or their last day of high school? What about our own milestones? When someone we love, more importantly a parent, is sick or passes away, how does it change the way we see those ‘firsts’? The first day, our first birthday, even instinctively picking up the phone to share with them your good news only to realise they wouldn't be picking up on the other end.

Does it change our relationships and how we see the world? I reached out to a few friends who have experienced the loss of one or two parents with intention of giving us a greater understanding of how we can make the most of our relationships in the living years. Even though our loved ones have passed away, could we use that loss to positively impact ourselves and those we love?

How writing a stranger’s memoirs taught me to live fully and love unapologetically

“Have you made peace with it, you know, with the fact that you’re dying?”

It's not the easiest question to ask someone you barely know, then again, I was here to write her memoirs. If she wasn't dying I wouldn't be sitting in her room at the rest home, where the walls had the personality of a non-existent Summer, which perfectly complimented the passive mood lighting overhead.

She is a friend’s Mum, someone I knew of only by name until three weeks ago. How do you earn the trust of a stranger to allow you insight into their life, maybe into memories their loved ones didn't even know about? The answer is to have compassion without pity, to listen with curiosity and to write with the intention of giving them a genuine voice.

They say that no parent should have to bury their child, yet as an adult and seeing your parent in pain is just as hard. Nothing prepares you, and you have to find your own way through it. My friend knows this too well.

Friendships, Life, Grief and LossRonna Grace Funtelar22 August 2018writingmemoirs, griefandloss, livefully, loveunapologeticallyComment

An Eclectic List Of What Makes Me Happy

I went out last night, and spent most of today napping between my bed and the couch. Confession time - I gave up drinking over ten years ago, so I couldn’t blame it on a hangover. Oh, and I also went home earlier than the others (I was in my snuggly PJs by 1am). I reheated my leftover nachos mince for lunch (my first meal of the day), and since I had no plans to move much today, I made the executive decision that I could procrastinate going to the supermarket for another day.

If my Mum is reading this, yes I did get out of bed long enough to feed the cat. Since no human life depended on me that warranted staying out of bed, I embraced the Italian philosophy of ‘Dolce far Niente’, which means ‘the sweetness of doing nothing’. It doesn’t mean being lazy, it refers to the pleasure you get from being idle.

You can say that this is an eclectic collection of thoughts and musings of what I’ve learned about life and love over the last two years. Here’s to the old me, who I am today, and the adventures yet to come...let’s drink to that!

Scooping Up The Last Poop: How It Feels To Rehome A Dog

How long before a dog realises that they’re not coming home? She had a goofy smile on her face as the car drove away, and it took all I had not to cry in front of her. I was naive to think it would be easier than this. I’m glad it was raining, because I was sitting in parking lot...bawling my eyes out. I don’t normally allow myself to be that openly emotional. That level of vulnerability is rare for me.

I realised that she was really gone...and it hurt so bad.

Life, FriendshipsRonna Grace Funtelar2 July 2018rehomingdog, doglife, JCthedog, whatmydogtaughtmeComment