Published March 5, 2022 · Updated September 25, 2026
Looking Back
There are seasons of our lives that make more sense when we look at them from the other side.
This was one of mine.
I wrote this in March 2022, at the end of my first winter in Canada. I was an international student then, still trying to understand the life I had chosen.
Winter wasn’t beautiful to me yet.
It felt cold, lonely, uncertain and very far from home.
For a while, I thought surviving that season meant simply waiting for it to end.
But something else was happening while I was hiding from the cold.
I was slowly finding my way back to myself.
I returned to writing.
I returned to yoga and meditation.
I created again.
And eventually, I danced.
Looking back now, perhaps that first winter wasn’t asking me to become someone new.
Perhaps it was quietly leading me back to parts of myself I had forgotten.
My Original Story – March 2022
As winter is coming to an end, I can now proudly say that I’ve survived my first winter! Two whole months of staying at home, two whole months of not having a regular source of income, two whole months of hibernating! I was hiding from too much cold ‘coz my nose bleeds literally easily. I was getting away from the snow so I won’t slip on block ice to protect my spine. I can’t risk my lumbar so I won’t suffer sciatica ‘coz I’m miles away from my chiro. So staying in the comfort of my room with my portable heater on for additional warmth for tropical vibes was my only option in winter season.
Winter was by far my most depressing experience, being in a foreign country alone with the wrong reason. I felt lost, I was suddenly uprooted from my comfort zone. I felt chaotic, I only came here to get stressed. I stressed working to pay for another stress which is schooling. I didn’t understand what on earth am I doing here in winter season! But in all those moments of confusions, I battled to give my thoughts some light. I went back to practice yoga and meditation again. I went back into writing again. I neglected those things I’m most passionate about since getting here. My priority was to work and earn for my tuition, rent, and living expenses.
Slowly Going Home to Myself
I was always anxious on how to make ends meet because then and again, I have no one in this foreign country. I was always worried to end up homeless in the streets of Toronto especially in winter season! But after spending time with myself in these two whole months, I slowly went home to myself again! I had grown up! I became brave! And to mention, I finally got my period for the first time since I arrived August of last year! I arranged my thoughts and came to a conclusion that though I had that wrong reason, it is the right decision for me to be here!
I cried, I laughed, I stumbled, I got up! Indeed there are seasons. A season to be sad and a season to be happy. A season to sow and a season to reap. In winter season, I am sowing and I have faith for its harvest!
Doing this video is like preparing for a production for me. I’ve been practicing as if I will be presenting this in a stage to a big audience. I was always thinking of a space where I can record. I cannot do it outdoor in winter season, I cannot do it anywhere else in the house since there is no vacant space. Gladly, Seneca York Sport and Recreation Facility opened again due to easing of protocols just in time for study week so I had time to record. This proves again that if you have a desire in your heart, the universe will open up doors for you!
The Things That Brought Me Back
When I reread this now, one line stands out to me:
I went back into writing again.
At the time, writing was simply one of the things that helped me make sense of everything I was feeling.
I didn’t know what it would eventually become.
I only knew that when my thoughts felt too loud, writing gave them somewhere to go. When life felt uncertain, putting words on a page helped me understand what was happening inside me.
Yoga helped me return to my body.
Meditation helped me become still.
Writing helped me listen to myself again.
Perhaps that’s why I still believe that some of the things we love aren’t merely hobbies.
Sometimes, they’re ways of finding our way home.
Why I Danced
The dance became my way of putting into movement what I couldn’t completely explain in words.
I wasn’t celebrating because everything had suddenly become easy.
It hadn’t.
There were still uncertainties ahead of me.
But something inside me had shifted.
I had cried. I had struggled. I had questioned my decisions. And somehow, I was still here.
So I danced—not because winter was over, but because I had made it through a season I once thought might break me.
And perhaps I was beginning to trust that another season would come.
To the People Who Helped Me Through That Winter
So this post is dedicated to my family who always said, “We’ll send you money for your airfare. We’ll give you money to start over again. So just come home.”
This post is dedicated to all my friends back in the Philippines and other countries who always encouraged me, “Keep going. You’re only starting. Soon you can adjust. Don’t come home!”
This post is dedicated to my new friends here. I couldn’t thank you enough for the guidance, for watching over me, and for taking care of me by driving me around and taking me to places to unwind and for the almost weekly supply of food and groceries! May God shower you with more blessings!
This post is dedicated to Uncle Baludoy for his constant emails of encouragement. It’s like getting love letters everyday!
This post is dedicated to all my yoga teachers. I may be self-practicing since 2018 but each and every time I get into my mat, your words are still in my ears and my heart.
This post is dedicated to those who are in the season of confusion. Trust the process. Soon there will be light! Believe in the magic of the season!
P.S. I may not execute the perfect asanas since I am only self-practiced (I’ve got no in-person teacher to correct me) but I know someone who dances to the Lord with all her heart! Nobody has ever danced as gracefully and as passionate as you Ate Mayet Ouano, in the stage of Happy Church! Oh how I miss seeing you dancing!
CREDITS
Original Song: Seasons by Hillsong
Version: Ronald Biyo (rbiyomusic on YT. Subscribe to his channel)
Vocals: Mae Espino
Choreography: Rashmi Ramesh (Yogalates with Rashmi on YT. Subscribe to her channel)
Location: Seneca York Sport and Recreation Facility, Toronto, Canada
No copyright infringement intended.
Chris Davenport – composer
Benjamin Hastings – composer
Ben Tan – composer
Hillsong Worship – Primary Artist
What That Winter Taught Me
When I reread this story now, one line stands out:
“I went back into writing again.”
At the time, writing was simply something that helped me make sense of everything I was feeling.
Yoga helped me return to my body.
Meditation helped me become still.
Writing helped me listen to myself again.
And dancing gave me a way to express what I couldn’t completely put into words.
I wasn’t dancing because everything had suddenly become easy.
It hadn’t.
I danced because somewhere between the loneliness, uncertainty and questions, something inside me had shifted.
Perhaps some of the things we love aren’t merely hobbies.
Sometimes, they’re ways of finding our way home to ourselves.
I Wasn’t Doing It Alone
There’s another thing I understand better now.
Although I felt alone during that winter, I wasn’t entirely alone.
My original story is filled with people encouraging me from near and far—my family, friends, Uncle Baludoy, yoga teachers and the new people I was meeting in Canada.
Some invited me out when I might otherwise have stayed home.
One of those invitations had already taken me to Canada’s Wonderland with Glenda and Yassi, giving me a joyful memory during my early months in Canada.
→ Read: Canada’s Wonderland: The Joy of an Unexpected Invitation
And during that same first winter, Yassi would give me another memory I still carry.
One freezing day in Georgina, she noticed how cold my hands were, reached out one of hers and simply said:
“Mine are warm.”
That tiny gesture became one of my earliest lessons in belonging in a country that still felt unfamiliar.
→ Read: Warm Hands: A Story of Belonging in a New Country
And then there were people who entered my life unexpectedly and left something behind.
Bob Schulz was one of them. His kindness became another part of my story of finding my footing in Canada.
→ Read: Bob Schulz’s Last Red Carpet
Looking back, I see that finding my way back to myself didn’t mean doing everything by myself.
Sometimes we find ourselves partly because other people remind us that we’re not alone.
Learning to See Ontario Differently
It’s strange to remember that there was once a time when Ontario was simply the place where I studied, worked, worried about money and tried to survive my first Canadian winter.
I couldn’t yet see what this place would become to me.
I didn’t know there would be waterfalls, lakes, forests, small towns, road trips, autumn colours and many more winters ahead.
Years later, many of those experiences would become part of 20 Beautiful Places in Ontario That Could Capture Your Heart.
→ Explore: 20 Beautiful Places in Ontario That Could Capture Your Heart
But this old story reminds me of something important:
Sometimes we’re not ready to see the beauty of a place immediately.
Sometimes we have to find our footing first.
And sometimes, we have to find ourselves.
Every Life Has Seasons
I used to think seasons were simply something happening outside my window.
Now I understand them differently.
There are winters in life when nothing seems to be growing and we wonder whether we’re moving forward at all.
But perhaps not every season is meant for blooming.
Some are for becoming still.
For listening.
For returning to the things that make us feel like ourselves again.
My first Canadian winter wasn’t the easiest chapter of my life.
But somewhere between the loneliness, the writing, the yoga, the prayers and one little dance, I began finding myself again.
Spring eventually came.
And when it did, I wasn’t quite the same person who had entered winter.
What Season Are You In?
Maybe you’re beginning again.
Maybe you’re waiting for something to change.
Maybe you’ve spent so much time working, caring for others or simply getting through life that you’ve lost touch with the things that once made you feel like yourself.
You don’t necessarily need to reinvent yourself.
Perhaps there’s something you need to return to.
Something you used to love.
A place that makes you feel alive.
A creative part of yourself you’ve neglected.
A quiet moment you’ve stopped making room for.
A dream you’ve put aside.
Sometimes becoming isn’t about turning into someone new.
Sometimes it’s about finding your way back to yourself.
Notice What’s Calling You Back
That’s one of the lessons my own seasons have taught me: when we slow down enough to notice our lives, we begin to see them differently.
It’s also why I created The Beauty Around You: A 7-Day Journey to Slow Down, Notice More, and Find Meaning in Everyday Life.
For seven days, I’ll gently invite you to pause, notice something you might normally overlook and reflect on what it might be showing you about yourself and your life.
Maybe you’ll discover something new.
Or maybe you’ll rediscover something that has been waiting for you all along.
→ Begin Your 7-Day Journey
With time, I now realize that experiences like this were quietly changing how I saw my life. I share more about that journey—and how it eventually shaped The Other Side of Mae—in When I Didn’t Care to Notice: The Years I Spent Waiting for Life to Begin. Your current article already makes this connection, and I would keep it because it naturally takes the reader from this individual winter to your broader philosophy of noticing.
Continue Your Journey
Explore Beautiful Places
Sometimes a place doesn’t become beautiful to us immediately. Explore the destinations that eventually became part of my story.
Discover Everyday Beauty
Beauty can appear in changing seasons, quiet routines and the little things that help us feel like ourselves again.
Reflect on Meaningful Stories
Some chapters make more sense from the other side. Read more stories about starting over, changing and finding meaning in the seasons we’ve lived through.