I had a dream I was on the Ellen Show, next morning I started writing my book; a few stops and human disasters later I realized a book is cover to cover, I want to inspire minds, hearts and even genitalia.
When I was 10, I broke a light bolt that my dad had asked me to replace in the bedroom; I was on a latter, he was right next to me, I am not sure why I got nervous and let the light bolt drop to his feet; dad was not the type to get mad and yell, he was the kind to carried me down while he looked for another bolt. He asked me if I wanted to try again and I said yes; I did it, I replace the bolt and cleaned the case while I was up there. Some time ago I wrote about Kintsugi, the art of the Japanese, the art of becoming independent, the art of trusting yourself to do all that needs to be done, at times with help and at times alone, but always to be done.
I never asked any questions, and when I did; he always found a way to water my fire, my curiosity. If I am being honest, two plus two was never four, and though at times I caught things that did not make sense, I always trusted that he would never lie, why? Because he did not have a reason to: or so I thought.
Ever since I knew what materialistic things were, I also understood that we were poor. One pair of black sneakers for the school year, one uniform, which now as a mother I realized meant that my mother had to work harder at maintaining it, for us to look presentable. I have always been grateful, if you ask anyone who knows me, I can make a whole meal out of 5 bucks, less if I am being honest; I once had a dollar for dinner, I got two coffee cakes and a juice, until 8am the next day when I would be eating a hot breakfast at JobCorps. I am not scared of not having, I fear having and not being grateful for it, people forget that once they have nothing when they get everything. I woke up today, to my 3rd bonus this year, 2020, and the overwhelming feeling of emotional exhaustion hit me, it hit me hard, I cried like a baby, I cried because I feel grateful for all I have, but I also feel the deepest sense of needing to help those who have not been as fortunate as I have.
September 2017 I decided to leave all I've ever known, to chase the unknown; a man, a feeling, an emotion, a dare: I am still figuring that answer out. In destruction mode, I savaged all I touch, I broke all I worked so hard for in a matter of months.
I am on my porch, after a long day at the desk, I needed some fresh air; I went to see my stats and I am deeply confused, this week was all about what is next on my spiritual journey, I met with a wonderful coach and I got some direction, but as my mouse stopped on the views and hearts of 104, the one where I talk about Rafael, I felt confused; I wrote it on an empty wall, a silent street, so I am not sure how come that is the most read, the most reacted to of all the numbers . Then I thought, maybe this is direction; this history book is all about my healing process, but in order to heal I have to write about the experiences that made me hard, that left me speechless, the ones that betrayed my soul.
As I get deeper, in this history book I am writing on a silent wall, I am starting to heal quietly; things are beginning to shift, inside and out of me, strengths and weaknesses are having in- depth conversations, while I sew away at this heart. As I settled on my feelings about this weekend, I found that the issue was not surfaced level, it was yet another deep rooted layer in my healing journey, and I've been in front of this computer trying to translate it into writing all day.
I am sitting in a dim lit living room at 6 in the morning, I am supporting my close friend in being the best version of herself, for her. We agreed we would wake up at 5:45 this morning and work on things, for her that is catching a moment of solitude while catching up at work: for me, I needed quietude.
I’ve always gotten fluster when asked “If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would you have dinner with?” I’ve never narrowed it down to one person; I mean you have the greatest, Elizabeth C Stanton, you have the awesome Tupac, my personal favorite my dad and of course the most recent ones, Obama and J Cole.