This week, I’m writing to you from the Philippines, sitting in a small province about two and a half hours northwest of Manila. Being in the hometown of my wife, our days have been full of stories, laughter, and food. There’s nothing fancy or extravagant about our time so far, and I welcome the lessons that accompany each moment.
Coming from a large family, her father is one of nine and her mother is one of twelve. Unfortunately, not all of the siblings are still around, yet the presence of her relatives makes it feel as if they run this town in the warmest way possible.
I’m soaking in the lessons of simplicity and am humbled once again by the character of those living in conditions many of us in the West would consider to be poor. One may casually refer to these areas as “third world,” since they don’t hold the conveniences we’ve grown accustomed to. But my main takeaway is that they’ve invented their own fabric of economy and community—one that supports everyone.
Each person has found a way to earn their keep, and the rest of the community supports their efforts however they can. Some cook delicious dishes every morning while others have turned their front porch into a small shop that serves as a meeting point for those operating tricycles—motorcycles with sidecars. No matter the income level or social status, everyone comes together as one, and the doors are always open. Social gatherings erupt on the fly in this dynamic, with word of mouth spreading quickly.
It’s been easy for me to adapt, since a strong part of my life’s work has been about letting go of my ways. The amount of love felt from extended family who have just met me continues to shatter my perceptions of what it means to be successful. The pace is slow, and the importance of appreciating each moment vibrates at a high frequency here.
Just being able to go with the flow earns a deep level of respect, as everyone holds their own assumptions about what someone from Los Angeles might be like. The true lesson lies in knowing that if we were to lose everything in our Western lives, we’d still have the backbone of family support and a culture that restores faith in humanity.
I’m reminded that simplicity isn’t a downgrade—it’s a return. A return to connection, humility, and gratitude for what’s right in front of us. We have this moment now, and the best we can do is bring ourselves fully into it.
