n 2024, I was in the Philippines on a family trip. We were getting ready to drive from Manila to Pangasinan, where my dad grew up and where our family still had land.

That morning, I was sitting at breakfast stuffing my face with longganisa when my dad casually asked me:

“Would you be interested in inheriting my portion of the land?”

What does it mean to have family land in the Philippines when you’ve grown up far away from it—and how do we begin to understand what our relationship to that land even is?

CKC collaborated with Salty Sisters Surf, a women-of-color-centered surf community in the Rockaways, for a morning of Kali + surfing. So, so fun to share our love of Kali with this amazing community — and then have them get us out on the water to surf!

As we move into the holiday week, I wanted to name something many of us feel—but don’t always say out loud.

Going home. Seeing family. Being around the people who knew us before we knew ourselves.

Thanksgiving comes packaged with a lot of outdated narratives — turkeys, pilgrims, a whole bunch of cringe. But there’s one thing I still appreciate about this time of year: the reminder to pause and feel grateful.

Today marks the beginning of Filipino American History Month. And while history is often written by those who won the wars, what many of us were taught in schools was a colonizer’s version—one that erased, minimized, or distorted the stories of our people.

Today is the Fall Equinox — the time when day and night come closest to equal length.

In Filipino Martial Arts, strength is structure, stamina, and endurance. It grounds us like the Earth: steady, rooted, and resilient.

But strength is more than muscle. It’s how you sustain yourself through pressure, how you endure through challenge, and how you rise when the weight of history feels heavy.

What does it mean to be in right relationship with land?

For our ancestors, land was never abstract. It was spirit, survival, and sacred ground. Among ancient tribes, land was lived with, defended, honored, ritualized. It wasn’t about deeds or ownership—it was about relationship.

I’ve been quiet these past few weeks as I recovered from being under the weather—grateful now to feel restored. While my body was in recovery mode, I found myself reflecting on something deeper: what it really means to walk the warrior path when you’re sick, injured, or forced to take a break.

In martial practice, Dos Manos refers to using two hands to wield a single weapon—like a sword or long stick—for greater force, control, and precision.

In Filipino Martial Arts, strength isn’t just force—it’s structure, stamina, and endurance. It grounds you during dynamic movements, maintains form under pressure, and sustains effort over time. Strength isn’t just something you build—it’s something you embody.

According to my instructor, Guro Dan Inosanto, there are eight key attributes, also known as the "8 S's", that shape a well-rounded martial artist.

In myths across the world, the hero’s journey often begins with a call to responsibility—a challenge or duty that requires stepping outside one’s comfort zone. Yet, in modern culture, we are often told to seek freedom, independence, and comfort—while the burden of responsibility is treated as something to avoid. But in pre-colonial cultures around the world, including the Philippines, transformation through responsibility is at the core of ancient stories.

Colonial authorities imposed restrictions, but they did not erase our warrior traditions. When the Spanish prohibited Filipinos from carrying full-sized swords or openly practicing their martial arts, our ancestors refused to let their knowledge disappear. Instead, they adapted, disguising movements in plain sight—whether through sticks, everyday tools, or even in dance.

What if the creatures from our ancestors’ stories weren’t just myths, but reflections of how they understood power, survival, and the unseen world?

With Lunar New Year coming up this week—the Year of the Snake—we drew inspiration from the kris blade in our training yesterday. The kris, with its wavy design representing a snake in motion and its straight blade symbolizing a snake at rest ready to strike, reflects the balance between movement, stillness, and power. It’s a beautiful reminder of how Filipino Martial Arts carries both symbolic and practical wisdom. 

The world needs fresh perspectives and alternative ways of being now more than ever. I like to think of us as an army of warriors—not soldiers beholden to an external authority, following blindly, but each guided by the leader within ourselves. Though we come from diverse walks of life and hold different affiliations, if we’re fighting for a better, more just world, we’re united under a shared banner of creativity and transformation.

Warrior Rising: An 8-week course to reconnect with your Filipino roots and awaken your warrior spirit through Kali, Filipino Martial Arts.

What if we approached endings with reverence instead of just release? What if we honored the past versions of ourselves for what they’ve taught us, trusting they’ve prepared us for what’s next—just as we honor our ancestors?