Summing Up The Last Few Months
I did the unthinkable. I managed not to publish a post around my birthday! But don’t fret… I have so much more else to share about down below. A lot has happened, a lot has changed. Find out what’s been going on down below.
It’s strange trying to figure out where to even start.
There’s just… a lot. Too much, maybe. But I guess that’s what happens when life happens faster than you can write about it.
Right now, I’m in Osaka – a day before my Kids Camp session at WordCamp Kansai 2025. It still feels surreal even saying that out loud. Japan. My first time here. I’ve dreamed about this for so long, and now that I’m here, it’s like my brain hasn’t caught up yet. Everything feels right and weirdly impossible at the same time.
I landed in Tokyo on October 27 and made my way to Osaka on the 30th. In between all the train transfers, konbini snacks, and quiet hostel nights, I’ve been reflecting a lot – on what’s changed, on how much can happen in just a few months, and on how I’ve somehow managed to keep up with it all.
The first few days in Tokyo were a mix of awe and confusion. The subway felt like a riddle I wasn’t meant to solve. Shinjuku, Shibuya, Ikebukuro… names that used to just exist in anime and maps now part of my actual commute log. But once I got the hang of it – and figured out the magic of Apple Pay (seriously, what a lifesaver) – things started to click. Now, zipping around Osaka’s Umeda and Namba feels almost second nature. I kind of like the rhythm of it.
If I had to pick one recurring theme lately, it’d probably be movement. I’ve been in Vietnam three times in two months. Three. Even for me, that’s bordering on absurd. And yet, every time I tell myself to take it easy, I somehow end up back at MNL, CEB, or DVO (boo, with the terminal fee) with a boarding pass in hand. It’s like my default setting is motion.
Before you continue: Songs to listen to as you read on are as follows:
Pre-Japan Travels
But amidst all the travel and takeoffs, there’s been this… stillness. A kind of quiet I didn’t notice before. Maybe it’s age, or maybe it’s just awareness catching up to me. I’m learning that stillness doesn’t mean stagnation – it’s actually the part of the journey that lets everything else make sense.
I came across this random YouTube video recently about the value of doing nothing. It sounds silly at first, but it struck me. Doing nothing isn’t a waste of time; it’s space. The kind that lets meaning float back up to the surface when everything else sinks.
Somewhere between Narita and Namba, I think I finally started feeling that.
Oh, and – yes – I started vlogging. In German. Don’t ask me why. Half the clips make no sense, but I’ll publish it anyway. Gotta start somewhere, right? lol.
Airports still do something to me. Not NAIA (let’s be real), but in general – I love that quiet in-between space. The hum of people coming and going, the overpriced coffee, the subtle sadness of departure mixed with the excitement of new beginnings. It’s its own kind of meditation.
On a random side note, I somehow made it a mission to reach elite status with Philippine Airlines. No idea when that became a “goal,” but there’s an odd sense of satisfaction hearing, “Welcome back, Mr. Paquet.” Sure, it’s scripted. But it’s also earned. Every mile. Every flight. Every tiny moment that said: I’m still moving.
But sometimes, when the seatbelt sign turns off, I catch myself thinking – what am I really chasing?
It’s not the miles. It’s not even the travel. Maybe it’s proof that I’m still capable of going somewhere – that I’m not stuck. That life’s still happening and I’m still part of it. Because, honestly, even with all the miles logged this year, emotionally, I’ve been circling the same airspace.
I love discovery – new cities, new faces, new languages. But every landing comes with that same quiet question: maybe it’s time to stay somewhere for a while?
Of course, my version of “a while” usually ends up being two weeks before the next flight gets booked. Typical.
Maybe that’s just me – wired to move, to explore, to keep testing where I feel most alive. But lately, I’m realizing that settling doesn’t have to mean stopping. It can simply mean being at peace, wherever I am – even if that’s 30,000 feet above ground, sipping airline coffee that somehow always tastes exactly the same.
And maybe that’s it – movement and stillness don’t need to compete. They can coexist.
Just like I can chase miles and still chase meaning.
I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately – how life can hold two opposing truths at once. Moving and still. Lost and grounded. Content and curious. Maybe that’s what growing up really is: learning to stay still without feeling stuck, and learning to move without always running away.
I used to think fulfilment meant being in constant motion – new gigs, new projects, new flights, new people. But these past few months have taught me something quieter: that maybe the best kind of growth doesn’t always make noise.
Boredom, I’ve learned, isn’t the absence of meaning. It’s the pause that lets meaning show itself. The silence between songs. The quiet part before the next chapter.
In a world obsessed with productivity, boredom feels rebellious. It’s the soft “no” we give to everything demanding we do. Because sometimes, being really is enough.
These days, I’ve stopped trying to fill every gap in my schedule. I’m okay with the moments when nothing’s happening – when it’s just me, a cup of coffee, and a few thoughts floating around. That’s where recalibration happens. Not in the rush, but in the rest.
Maybe that’s why Japan feels so symbolic right now. Even before my talk tomorrow, I already feel like this trip has spoken to me in ways that go beyond work or travel. It’s like the universe timed this whole journey perfectly – to remind me that motion and stillness aren’t enemies after all. They’re partners in keeping us human.
And the irony of it all isn’t lost on me.
Here I am, having these quiet realizations in a country that practically defines movement. Everything here moves. The trains glide in perfect rhythm. The crowds flow like water through the narrow veins of Shinjuku and Shinsaibashi. Even the convenience stores operate like well-rehearsed choreography – open, scan, pay, bow, done. Life in Japan is a constant hum of efficiency. It’s noisy, but not “noisy” in the usual sense.
There’s a rhythm to the noise here – a kind of collective harmony in motion. No one seems frantic, even when they’re rushing. It’s as if everyone has accepted that movement is part of the balance. And that’s the paradox that keeps tugging at me: in a place so alive and perpetually in transit, I’ve found one of my calmest headspaces yet.
Maybe it’s because Japan reflects the kind of life I’ve been chasing – always in motion, but never quite out of control. There’s an art in how the chaos organizes itself here (just how the chaos of motorbikes functions in perfect harmony in Hanoi), how the noise knows when to quiet down. Maybe that’s what I’ve been trying to learn, too.
I don’t need to stop moving to find peace. I just need to move with intention.
Because if everything around me can be so loud and yet so composed, maybe I can be too – the kind of person who moves often, but never aimlessly. Who learns to pause not out of exhaustion, but out of awareness. Who understands that there’s beauty in both the rush and the rest. Maybe the secret isn’t to choose between rush and rest – but to learn how to carry both.
When You’re Alone… Do You Think Of Me?
And speaking of rhythm – I have to mention this before I forget. Just a few weeks before flying out here, I attended the Mayday Parade concert in Manila – their Three Cheers for Twenty Years anniversary tour.
It was, honestly, amazing.
I’ve seen them live before, but this one hit different. Maybe it’s the nostalgia that comes with twenty years of songs that somehow matured right alongside me. Or maybe it’s just that I finally listened — like, really listened — to what those songs have meant all this time.
Somewhere in the middle of Oh Well, Oh Well (of all songs), I caught myself smiling – not because the lyrics were happy, they were faaaar from it, but because I realized how far I’ve come since the first time I heard them. And yeah, in one of those reflective post-concert moments, I actually ended up sending my ex an email. Not a “what if” kind of message. Just a quiet thank you for introducing me to the band all those years ago. No bitterness. No attachment. Just gratitude.
For the longest time, I felt like an impostor just even listening to Mayday Parade – like I didn’t belong among the real fans who had been following them for decades. But not anymore. The band’s grown on me in a way I didn’t expect. Their music feels like an old journal now – one I didn’t write, but somehow lived through anyway.
It’s funny how that happens. You start out listening to something because someone else loved it, and somewhere along the way, it becomes yours too. That’s what that concert was for me – a kind of emotional homecoming, a reminder that the things we inherit from others don’t have to stay attached to them. They can evolve into something entirely our own.
Post WordCamp Kansai 2025 Realizations
I’ll head straight to the realisation aspect of WordCamp Kansai 2025. It’s been an amazing affair in general, and contrary to WordCamp Asia – where all speakers were speaking in English – I actually attended some sessions at this one! After my quick introduction to WordPress for beginners at the sponsors hall, I attended some of the talks that were delivered in English, and the wisdom that I was able to take away from them were truly profound.
For example, I was greatly moved by Dennis Snell’s push towards us getting our own voices and ownership of content back. It made me reflect how we’ve slowly handed over not just our content, but the right to our content to these big social media entities. I was so inspired by it, that I immediately crafted my own take on this important topic which I will carry back to the Philippines for local meetups.
Other than the sessions at the event itself, I had a lot of great conversations with people in the community. People that I have met the first time, and people that I have met here and there already. Throughout these conversations I learned more about them – and myself… and I have to admit, in some of these talks, I started questioning myself a little bit, too. I started asking myself more intently why I do what I do.
I mean, I’m still in my crazy mode, just flying to Japan to attend WordCamp Kansai 2025 without an assurance of any tangible benefit so to speak. And you could say, in Filipino that utilising the giving back to the community spiel is kind of gasgas already. Especially for someone like me, who hasn’t been earning because of WordPress for quite some time.
These kinds of thoughts come in actually timely. Indeed, I just started going out there to WordCamp Events in 2024, when I ventured out to Sydney… and I do recall telling myself that this year, I’ll try to make it to as many international ones as I can… but For 2025, I shall do so with more intent and meaning.
With that said, these conversations themselves, these talks that made me pause and reflect, were kind of worth it alone.
I don’t really have a lot of mentors at the moment. Not many to look up to anyways. In my circle, it’s more like I’m the one that some look up to. I’m unsure with the takes I have in life and the decisions I have been making, which is why the input provided by people in the community has been more than welcome.
There have been also some more personal talks, not just about career… but where we’re at in life. Some community members are going through a momentous period in their lives, and I’m all there for it. Knowing some people’s life and love stories more deeply made me reflect and look back at my has beens and how things could have changed if I weren’t the idiotic twat that I am. But I digress. Those are has beens after all.
Yet.. Having listened to these stories of people that I admire and relate to, I’m sure, will have a great impact in what I plan in the near future.
WordCamp Kansai 2025 was truly an event where I was able to connect. Not just with the audience that listened to the talks, not just with fellow WordPress professionals and enthusiasts… but with myself.
And I suppose, that’s why I do what I do for the moment. I don’t have a huge circle around me, so I always seek people out. I want to understand how they tick, listen to their stories, and see what great things I can take home with me back to the Philippines.
A Personal Breakthrough
It’s safe to say that for the last two years… I kind of feel like I have hit a ceiling. Like a limit of sorts… but I can feel myself slowly peeking through, through to the next level. I want to think that I am evolving… and I just have to, as I am not getting younger.
I’m just happy that I get to enter these last few months of the year levelheaded and excited with what’s to come, instead of being afraid of the unknown that awaits.
In contrast to how fucked up my year started, I’m more than happy about where I am right now. But more on that retrospective point of view in my year end post… should I be able to write it.
What I have flown so far since the last post… (the counter is from 2023, not just this year, okay. I’m not thaaaat crazy)
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