This is for the mothers who are too busy for motherly counsel. And their kids who cartwheeled through life because they could.

I thank my mother for raising me with “bahala ka” (“do what you will”). Can I play with the neighbors? Bahala ka. Is it okay if I don’t wear that dress or any dress ever? Bahala ka. Should I be a lawyer? Bahala ka. Can I leave you forever? Bahala ka.

It has taken me from the barangays of Samar and Agusan to the villages of Ratanakiri and Steung Trang, and has allowed me to listen to people’s stories and translate them to what I call the language of the powerful. You know how rockstars and sports heroes always tell us to pursue our life’s passions? I guess that’s what I’ve been doing. But it wasn’t them I listened to. I listened to my mother when she just couldn’t be bothered to think of firm yeses and nos, and just decided to let us go with bahala ka.

I always took that as a yes.

(Photo: The women of Steung Trang telling their stories of dam devastation so their kids and the kids of their kids could do as they will.)