Generosity from above

This enormous mango tree in front of my house—this is abundance. Not the concept. The thing itself.

I gaze at it. I spend time with it. I'm trying to learn what it knows.

The mangos are ripening now, yellowing from green. Each morning I climb to the fourth-floor roof with an enormous stick and pull them down. I lost the carrier bag that was attached to it, but they still come off.

This morning I checked below—no one there. Mangos fell. And the moment they hit the ground, a kid appeared. He started collecting them. Then he looked up at me and waited.

I knocked more down.

This is it.

This is how I want to be.

Knocking generosity out of myself from somewhere above. And when someone shows up to receive it, not stopping. Abundance pulled out from every corner.

The Roots of my Contentment

What are the true roots of my contentment?

I decide what matters first. Then I know all day that I already decided. Living with intention brings enormous joy.

Small challenges. Small completions. These are not big.

Space around my errors, my emotions, my grief, my frustration. That's where I get to live instead of hide or lie to myself.

Creating without agenda. It's how I live. These things do better uninterrupted.

Here’s a playful video version:

Pilot lights, understated

If you asked me right now what's alive within me, I would need to pause to check.

Disconnection is protection. It's regulation.

So much wants to be known inside me that isn't.

Curiosity—that's the pilot light. A pulling warmth. A coming towards.

Curiosity is movement.

Altar for San Martín de Porres, Iquitos, November 2025