These days, my plate is full. There are things far more pressing than this column. Yet, here I am, writing just in the nick of time to meet the deadline. Maybe it is time for me to step back, take it easy — but I also feel this need to write for my soul.
This push and pull between action and stillness, striving and surrender, is where mindfulness becomes essential. It is the essence of “being” — whether during intense pressure or the deafening chatter of our thoughts. The ability to be present, fully engaged in the moment without being consumed by past failures or future anxieties, is a discipline worth cultivating.
I learned to meditate decades ago, and it has, on many occasions, saved me from self-destruction. It is not some magical practice convincing me of an alternate reality. It is stillness and emptiness — a space that allows both the negative and positive to flow through me, quieting the ego and grounding me to deal with life with truth and clarity.
Over the years, the life and teachings of St. Ignatius of Loyola have resonated with me more as my physical energy slowly wanes with age.
Ignatius, once a soldier with grand ambitions, found his life upended after a battle injury. Confined to recovery, he was forced into stillness — a kind of imposed mindfulness. In this pause, he discovered the power of reflection, which led to a profound spiritual awakening. He learned that true strength lies not only in the fight but also in discernment — the ability to listen, be present, and recognize where God was leading him. In today’s world, moments of quiet and isolation are rare. Gadgets provide so much distraction and convenience that they desensitize us from both the world and our personal realities.
Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises emphasize “finding God in all things,” a mindfulness practice in itself. He taught that every moment, whether in action or stillness, is an opportunity to be aware and align with something greater than ourselves. His concept of “indifference” — not as apathy but as openness to where life takes us — reminds us that mindfulness is not about controlling outcomes but about being fully present in the journey.
In the last few years, I truly thought I was at my wit’s end, struggling to make things work in my career and business. I felt an overwhelming need to reconnect with my soul. I had been searching for a safe space to reflect, but for so long, none seemed to exist.
An invitation to a retreat felt like an answered prayer. It happened during a casual conversation with my friends Ron and Chris after lunch at one of my restaurants, Lore, in BGC. Out of the blue, I blurted out my soul’s yearning for a sanctuary to gather my thoughts. Coincidentally, they had been organizing retreats for years.
Burned out and feeling like my life and career were in disarray, I signed up for a four-day silent retreat at St. Joseph’s Sanctuary inside Gourmet Farms in Silang, Cavite. It was four days of quiet among people in prayer and meditation. Phones were off practically the entire time, and conversations were kept to a minimum — just morning greetings and polite hellos in passing.
It was Holy Week, and the retreat was led by Fr. Gabby Gonzales of Ateneo. During this time, I experienced the washing of feet — a humbling and symbolic act of service and renewal performed on Holy Thursday. That simple gesture reminded me of what true leadership means — not just in business but in life. To lead is to serve, to cleanse oneself of pride, and to approach work with humility.
The weight of my struggles had become overwhelming, and for the first time, I questioned whether I had anything left to give. But in the stillness of those days, surrounded by nature and free from distractions, I found clarity. I realized that surrendering is not failure — it can be an act of faith. Letting go of control allowed me to rediscover my calling — not as something to conquer, but as something to nurture.
I have come to see that my work — whether in business, content creation, or writing — is an expression of my spirituality and my service to the community. In doing what I do, I feel that I am fulfilling my purpose, even if I do not always know where this journey leads. It is in creating, serving, and pushing forward that I find meaning, even amid uncertainty.
The changes I have made in my life stem from these reflections. As I navigate this new phase — where I lead more than I create, where I guide more than I build with my own hands — I remind myself that every transition is an invitation to grow. The work I do, whether in business, writing, or leading teams, is an extension of who I am. It is not merely about what I produce but about the purpose behind it.
Perhaps this is the real art of being — not in holding on tightly to what was, nor anxiously chasing what will be, but in trusting the process, finding meaning in the moment, and having the faith to let go when necessary.
As St. Ignatius said, “Act as if everything depended on you; trust as if everything depended on God.”
Maybe in that trust, we find the freedom to simply be.
I encourage you to pause and reflect. Find stillness amid the chaos. And if the opportunity arises, consider going on a retreat. Sometimes, stepping away is exactly what we need to move forward with renewed clarity and purpose.
That is how you make living simple.
