What I learned at the Summit

The definition of peace is changing, and for it to become a reality, the entire world needs to be behind it

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As my flight took off from El Dorado airport, I tried to align and organize all that my mind had absorbed in the past four days.

From President Juan Manuel Santos’ opening remarks to doctor Ira Helfand’s detailed description of what would be nuclear for us, every second of the 16th World Summit of Nobel Peace Laureates was filled with learning.

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Emotional stability and work

Many people advise on shunning away from emotions. I think it’s the other way around.

Being an emotionally unstable individual myself, I know that the daily trip to the office can be a challenge for those who struggle with keeping their emotions at bay.

Many times, to make mends with such challenges requires help, through the beauty of the internet, I look to connect with these people and many more.

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Collective Haikus

We wrote these Haikus in efervescent tropical heat, the dried-up hills of Nosara collided with the growl of howler monkeys.
There were five of us. Though sometimes I think there was only one, but who?

To the crazy bunch in Nosara

We wrote these Haikus in efervescent tropical heat, the dried-up hills of Nosara collided with the growl of howler monkeys.

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Favorite Song: These Days

Some songs stay with us for the rest of our lives, even if our taste in music shifts from side to side. Periodically, I’ll post reviews of my personal pillars of music. Here’s the first.

These days–there ain’t a ladder on the streets.

What is the purpose of a song but to generate a connection?

Periodically, I plan to post reviews about songs that have permeated deep into my memory, for a wide array of reasons. The first one is actually the first album I ever bought.

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A coin

What happens when we have spare change and we ask ourselves: do people deserve it?

It all starts the same way. 

Alarm goes off at 5:30 am. So begins that replay button, stuck on Monday to Friday, only pausing for a brief blink of an eye called the weekend. The cold shower is the only rush of the day then organic yogurt with gluten-free granola and berries grown by Buddhist monks.

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Lost poems

Lost poems stuck in the dusty corners of my laptop. I brushed them off and sent them to the uncontrollabe universe.

I was cleaning my computer when I found old poems that I once wrote in hopes of getting published, though I never sent them. I uploaded them (most likely, others will follow), some unpolished and others, just barely.

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