18/04/2025
We are tired.
Not the kind of tiredness that ice cream can fix, but the kind that feels like an elephant stumps its feet in our chest.
We show up every day with aching backs and weary eyes. We laugh, we recite, we submit. But behind those submissions are skipped meals, unwashed bodies, and a mind begging for a pause. Still, we keep moving forward, because that’s what’s expected of us. Because we convinced ourselves “I’ll sleep when I’m done.”
But this time… we allowed ourselves to breathe.
PAHINGA: Students’ Path to Healthier Study Habits wasn’t just a symposium. It was a soft place to land. A moment to admit, "Hey, I’m not okay, but I’m not the only one going through this. I wanted to give up, but here I am.”
We discussed how just ten minutes of breathing, pausing, and simply being grounded can save us from drowning. We reminded each other to eat, hydrate, and move—not because we were told to, but because somewhere along the way, we forgot we were entitled to care for ourselves. We realized that the very screens we scroll through for comfort often leave us emptier than before.
And then… we wrote.
In silence, we took our Pink Papers and poured the deepest parts of us into them. One copy we kept—a piece of ourselves, folded into a tiny bottle, a promise we could hold onto. The other, we gave away—to remind this community that we’re not alone in this fight.
“Keep fighting and keep pursuing your dreams.”
"Set your vision and guard your importance."
“This too shall pass.”
"Malayo pa, pero malayo na."
"Nothing is impossible with God guiding me."
"Let go of the things you can't control."
“I want to make my parents proud.”
“Mu-graduate ra jud ko.”
Just some of the words that came from calloused hands with tired hearts.
We're fighting for futures we can barely imagine right now. We're carrying the weight of expectations—of families, of names, of sacrifices made for us. We're pushing toward goals we once dreamed of with stars in our eyes, now clouded by sleepless nights and burnouts no one sees.
We want to succeed.
We want to make them proud.
We want to make it out.
But sometimes… we just want to make it through the day.
And in the middle of it all, our guest speaker, Ma’am Roselie Rafols, offered us not only wisdom but movement. She brought us the game “Move the Boulder,” where we used only folders to push a crumpled paper, shaped like a boulder, across the floor. We were divided into five groups. One by one, each member had to lead the boulder toward the finish line and back to their group before the next member could continue. It looked simple. But it made us feel something. It made us feel the resistance. The breathlessness. The struggle of pushing something forward when the odds and the wind—aren’t always on your side.
When we felt like this side didn’t work, we switched to the other side. When our legs cramped, we rested for a while… and got back to work. And suddenly, it all made sense. This is studying. This is life. We try, we struggle, we adapt. And sometimes, the most powerful technique we forget to use… is rest.
Ma’am Roselie didn’t just stand in front of us to teach. She stood with us. As a witness. A reminder that choosing to rest is not choosing to fail. It’s choosing to survive. To stay. To breathe.
And for that brief, beautiful moment… we were just students.
Not achievers. Not warriors. Not machines.
Just human. Just hurting. Just healing.
To every student out there: we see you. We feel you. You don’t have to break yourself to prove your worth. Please rest and then rise.
And if no one has told you lately… Even your slowest steps are still steps forward. Even your tired eyes are still looking toward the future. Even your brokenness is still trying to build something beautiful.
This is us, trying. Not perfectly. Not always gracefully. But honestly. Wholeheartedly.
And if this is trying—then this, right here, is already brave.
