I’m cradling a cup of cacao, letting its warmth seep into my palms as I sit with the weight of the past few days. Coming back to loved ones after years away feels like stepping into a familiar room, only to find the furniture rearranged. There’s a quiet heaviness, but also a sharpness—a clarity I didn’t expect. The oracle casting for today, with “Decrease” and “The Taming Power of the Small,” keeps circling in my thoughts. Sacrifice, subtle influence, dense clouds with no rain yet—it’s like a quiet nudge to let go of what’s not essential and focus on the small, sincere offerings. Let’s unpack this messy, beautiful tangle of reflections.
The Unfreezing of Old Wounds
Spending time with my parents stirred something deep. My mom shared stories of our childhood—hardships I lived through but never fully felt until now. She spoke of my aunts, who passed last year, and how she and my dad survived on just four hours of sleep a night for years, grinding to build their business. As I listened, the weight of it hit me hard—and for the first time since middle school, I teared up in front of her. I’d built a wall back then, swore I’d never cry again. But lately, after time spent in solitude, sitting with sensations, I’ve felt my vagal nerves loosen. The old armor’s cracking. Growing up, I was the sensitive one, my nervous system always on edge, overreacting to tension. I fortified it over time, but now, with practice in equanimity, I’m letting those sensations just flow through—arising and passing without resistance.Key observation: Sometimes the bravest thing isn’t holding it together—it’s letting it fall apart. What old wall are you ready to let crack open?
Mentorship, Systems, and Cacao Horizons
Visiting Peter at his shop added another layer. We’ve been connected since 2008, when I was drowning in financial mess after some bad business calls. He threw me a lifeline back then, getting me to help with content marketing for his business, and he’s been a mentor ever since—treating me like a protégé. We dove into the heavenly stems and earthly branches, a framework he introduced me to in 2020. I shared how I’ve applied it over the years, and he revealed a deeper angle, tying it to the positions of the stars. But his real gem was a management philosophy from his high-flying friends—CXOs, board members. He stressed system integrity: if you’re lenient with someone not pulling their weight, you’re unfair to everyone else. It’s a gut check as I think about my cacao project. He suggested finding specialists to adapt cacao into niche industries, scaling sales volume. He also warned me not to get stuck in my head with grand ideas—just focus on the market, on what’s actually needed. It’s about crafting a system that’s tight, just, and grounded in reality.Then, reuniting with my old basketball coach and teammates, I heard how PSA alumni from the Port Authority of Singapore are running ports worldwide. Singapore’s governance and work ethic are a global standard. It sparked an idea: what if the real innovation in my cacao project isn’t just the product, but applying that Singapore-style governance to a supply chain from the Amazon rainforest to the U.S.? Precision, consistency, excellence—woven into every link.
Reflections for the day: Systems aren’t just structures—they’re promises. Where do you need to shore up integrity in your own?
Cycles, Grief, and the Only Path Forward
Catching up with Ricky, a childhood friend, brought personal cycles into view. He’s stuck in a loop, grappling with romantic grief. I shared how a steady cacao ritual has helped me—tapping into the vagal nerve system, surfacing emotions, processing pain. It’s not a fix, just a quiet tool. Maybe it’ll resonate with him. During our chat, Ricky pointed out something sharp—how I tend to overwrite my emotions with pure logic, sometimes to the point of being cruel. He admitted he couldn’t do that, even when he logically knows the right move. It made me pause—am I sacrificing too much feeling for cold clarity?Then there’s Garis, who suggested serving cacao drinks directly in the U.S. instead of just selling beans. I opened up about my lack of drive, tied to the sadness around my situation with my daughter. He dropped a hard truth: with AI moving so fast, the window to pivot back into software might be shut. I’d held off on Silicon Valley gigs before, not wanting to close the door on being near my daughter. But with my current reality—limited cash reserves, a single U.S. sales channel for cacao, and the demands of this project—there’s no logical way to reunite right now. The universe has stripped away the other options, leaving one clear path. It’s like the oracle’s “Decrease”—a call to sacrifice, to focus. Two small bowls for the offering, not a grand feast.
Garis, meanwhile, is in his own slow boil, driving for Uber as margins shrink with rising unemployment. He’s got two months before his car’s COE expires, forcing him out. It’s a reminder: adapt, or the system cooks you.
Cultural Contrasts and Oxytocin Withdrawal
Walking around, I saw an ad from the Social Development Unit pushing marriage. It struck me—I’m back in a region with one of the lowest birth rates and highest costs of living on the planet. Long hours, conservative values, ultra-efficiency as the holy grail. I remember being auto-enrolled in their mailing list after graduating from NUS decades ago, never showing up to their events. But now I see it: an environment often starved of oxytocin—connection, touch, warmth. There are more elderly folks in wheelchairs on the streets than during my last visit, a visible aging population.It’s hindsight clarity—I’m shaped by this ecosystem. Oxytocin-deprived, I funneled the withdrawal into a relentless work ethic, numbing myself with it. Food and dopamine became stand-ins, but even those got pushed aside by workaholism. I never faced the root of the deprivation. It’s a sharp contrast to places I’ve been recently—desert festivals in Arizona, coastal Bahia—where population density is lower, but physical affection between friends and loved ones flows more freely. Looking at myself now, that hard-driving focus on achievement lingers, though softened by time in the desert, forest, and coast. It’s a costly habit—one that unraveled the young family I was invited to build in the U.S. with my ex-partner.
Postscript: Returning after four years, I’ve sensed curiosity from friends and family about my ambiguous relationship status. Since it’s spring cleaning season, I figure it’s time to sweep away the debris and move forward.
Small Offerings in a Dense Cloud
The oracle’s “Taming Power of the Small” ties this all together—subtle moves, small influences, dense clouds with no rain yet. Maybe it’s about the essentials—small sacrifices, intentional steps. Whether it’s feeling raw emotions with my parents, building integrity into the cacao project, or clearing personal baggage, it’s not about grand gestures. It’s two small bowls, offered with sincerity.I’m left wondering: What small offering are you ready to make? What subtle shift could clear your own path forward?
- Family
- Personal Growth
- Cacao Project
- Cultural Reflections
- Systems Thinking