Blog #45
When the Storm Hits Home: Typhoons, Distance, and the Filipino Heart
A Familiar Fear We Never Quite Outgrow
As I write this, a powerful storm, Super Typhoon Fung‑wong (locally known as “Uwan”), has made landfall in the Philippines, bringing sustained winds of up to 185 km/h, gusts reaching 230 km/h, and forcing over one million people to evacuate ahead of what meteorologists warn could be one of the most destructive storms of the year.
If you grew up in the Philippines, the sound of heavy rain and wind is more than just weather. It’s memory. The faint smell of wet soil, the hurried voice of a parent saying “mag-charge ka na ng phone,” the rush to fill water containers “baka mawalan ng kuryente.”
And now, as a super typhoon once again passes through the Philippines, many Filipinos abroad feel a familiar ache. You’re thousands of kilometers away (in Canada, the U.S., the Middle East) but your body reacts as if you’re right there: checking updates, watching the news, calling home, waiting for replies. For Filipinos abroad, that news often comes with a mix of fear and helplessness: “What are they doing now? Are they safe? I wish I could be there.” The physical distance doesn’t mute the emotional earthquake we feel inside.
It’s not just worry. It’s kapwa - the Filipino sense of shared identity. When home hurts, we hurt too.
The Emotional Storm Within
For families in the Philippines, the physical danger is real: flooded homes, power outages, lost income, and displacement.
But for Filipinos abroad, the emotional toll hits differently.
You might notice:
A racing heart each time you refresh social media.
Sleepless nights until you hear your family is safe.
Guilt that you’re comfortable, dry, and fed - while they brace for the storm.
A heavy, helpless feeling that no amount of remittance or video calls can ease.
In therapy, I often hear, “Nandito ako sa Canada, pero parang kasabay binabagyo ang puso ko.”
(“I’m here in Canada, but it feels like my heart is in the storm with them.”)
Let me tell you that this is not weakness. This is kapwa in action. It’s how deeply we’re wired to feel for our people.
The Pain Points Through the Lens of Sikolohiyang Pilipino
1. Kapwa: When the Storm Breaks Connection
Kapwa means “shared self.” It’s the belief that our identity is intertwined with others.
So when our community back home suffers, our sense of self wavers. Disconnection brings grief, not only for what’s lost, but for being unable to physically help.
2. Hiya and Silence
Many Filipinos respond with hiya, a kind of social humility or restraint. We tell ourselves, “Marami pang mas grabe sa akin” (“Others have it worse”), and suppress our emotions.
But when hiya silences our pain, stress accumulates. What looks like “resilience” can sometimes be emotional numbing.
3. Utang na Loob and Guilt
The desire to give back to family (utang na loob) becomes heavy during disasters.
You send money, donate to drives, stay glued to updates, yet still feel it’s never enough. This guilt is the emotional tax of loving across oceans.
4. The Powerlessness of Distance
Filipinos abroad often become emotional “second responders.”
You organize fundraisers, check on relatives, post calls for donations; but deep down, you may feel powerless, anxious, or ashamed that you can’t do more.
This quiet distress deserves compassion, too.
Strengths That Keep Us Afloat
Filipino resilience is often romanticized, but let’s call it what it truly is: collective courage.
Our strength doesn’t mean ignoring pain. It means transforming it.
Bayanihan: Healing Together
The bayanihan spirit (helping one another rebuild) is our strongest mental health tool. When we volunteer, donate, or even hold space for stories, we engage in collective healing.
Lakas ng Loob: Courage from Within
Lakas ng loob isn’t about pretending we’re okay. It’s the quiet bravery of feeling what’s hard and choosing to move forward anyway.
Sometimes, courage looks like saying, “Pagod na ako, pero kailangan ko ring alagaan sarili ko.” (I’m tired, but I also need to care for myself.)
Faith, Hope, and Humor
Faith (pananampalataya) and humor (tawa kahit may bagyo) have always been emotional lifelines. They give meaning to chaos. Alongside the videos showing chaos on social media, you may also have come across funny videos or pictures of Filipinos while dealing with the typhoon.
In Sikolohiyang Pilipino, these are not distractions, but they’re adaptive coping rooted in pag-asa (hope) and buhay-na-buhay na loob (aliveness of spirit).
For Filipinos Abroad: Ways to Cope from Afar
Create a “check-in ritual.”
Set specific times to message or call family so you’re not refreshing updates all day. Structure helps your nervous system rest.Limit doom-scrolling.
Choose one or two reliable news sources and step away when you notice your anxiety rising.Name your emotions.
“Nalulungkot ako.” “Natatakot ako.” “Nahihirapan ako.” Naming emotions is a culturally healing act. It bridges head and heart.Transform guilt into action.
Donate, share verified information, volunteer with local drives. Doing something tangible gives back a sense of agency.Seek community.
Join Filipino groups, talk to kababayans, or attend church or therapy spaces that honour your cultural lens. Bayanihan heals, even from a distance.Rest and regulate.
Your rest is not a betrayal. Pahinga is resistance. When you pause, breathe, and care for yourself, you ensure you can continue caring for others.
Healing the Nervous System: Simple Grounding Exercises
Here are gentle ways to help your body calm during climate-related stress:
1. “Bayanihan Breath” (3-3-3)
Inhale for 3 counts, then hold for 3. Exhale for 3.
While breathing, imagine the collective inhale of all Filipinos worldwide, sharing the same air. Feel connected.
2. “Tahanan Visualization”
Close your eyes. Picture your childhood home, the smell of ulam, the laughter of loved ones.
Let that memory remind you: safety can live within you, even when the world feels unsafe.
3. Journaling Prompts
“What does ‘home’ mean to me now?”
“How can I support my family and myself?”
“What strength has helped my people endure, and how can I honour that today?”
Closing Reflections
Every Filipino knows how to survive storms, not just the ones outside, but the emotional ones within.
We’ve mastered tiis (enduring), but healing asks for something more: pahinga, pagdamay, at pag-asa.
You don’t have to carry this alone.
Your grief, your worry, your exhaustion. All of it is valid.
You can be both strong and soft. Brave and tired.
And through it all, the spirit of kapwa (our shared humanity) reminds us that healing is never a solo journey.
May we find calm after every storm and may we continue to rise, together.
Individual Therapy and Couples Therapy in Ontario, Canada by a Filipino-Canadian Therapist / Culturally-Sensitive Therapy / Therapy in Tagalog
