Blindfolded

She’s in the middle of the forest and doesn’t know what’s going on. She has been blindfolded and her hands are tied behind her back. It’s daytime because she can feel the warmth. Lost she carries on without knowing where to go. All she instinctively knows she must do is find a path. How? She wonders. How will I be able to find it without my sight? She can’t. She simply can’t.

For years she carries on without knowing where she’s going or how to get somewhere she doesn’t even know exists. Until one very dark day, in the middle of the night she finds Mantra. Mantra seems to be quite dark but he isn’t. She hopefully expects him to take her to the path and tells him all about it. After carefully listening, he simple decided not to take her anywhere. And with one single word he devastated her. No.

She cannot understand why he won’t take her somewhere. He hangs around and starts to explain why he cannot help her. She’s hurt and disappointed, doesn’t want to hear anything he has to say.

After months of hearing him tell her how he can help in a different way, she finally decides to listen.

I will show you how to free yourself. I will show you how to find the path yourself. I will teach you to remove your blindfold and I’ll show you how to become completely liberated all on your own. She hated the idea at first and now, day by day she listens and she tries. She fails and continues to fail. She still cannot see. She first has to believe she can and then we will see what happens.

 

 

Inspiration

It doesn’t matter where it comes from or if it left. All that matters is that you create from wherever life seems to have put you, where you have put yourself. It all came flowing. The pain was unbearable and so it poured out of me. Now, inevitably, maturity finally came knocking on my door. I was wondering when I’d be willing to grow up a bit. Only a little bit though.

Now, I find myself having a hard time expressing myself because conflict was what moved me, what made the world go round. My dreams were still reachable and doable. I don’t know what they are now or what they’ve become. All I know is that here I am, writing. Here I am creating something out of thin air. Isn’t that what life is anyhow? Don’t we make it up as we go along? I know I have.

Rules seem to have escaped me. Life seems to have left me behind at times and I seem to be the young dramatic girl I once was. I am nothing and yet everything. I will always be a beautiful mess of contradictions. The only constant in life is change and I know that for sure. I see those around me plan and I am mesmerized by the idea. What is a plan? How does it work? How can one commit to one thing forever?

This confusion has led me to not get what I want. I didn’t know what I wanted so how was I to get it? It’s fine. Everything is fine and nothing is the end of the world. I do have one desire though. I hope to make a difference in this world and leave the Earth a bit better than I found it. Survival gets in the way, distractions present themselves all day long at many moments throughout the day. I’m trying as hard as I’ve been able to to ignore them and do more of this, more of love, more of life. I must cease to compare myself to others because I do not belong in this world and I should not desire to do so.

I’m in conflict in love. I’m trying to fight for my individuality whist sharing my space with another. He seems to want his things his own way and that’s fine. I’m just trying to find that perfect balance whilst achieving some sort of goal because my soul is tired of always wandering and have nothing concrete to show for myself.

The Wizard says I’m used to being uncomfortable and that all that matters is that I feel good for being me. He says that being me is enough success and that’s all that matters. What a lovely thought. Just writing it makes me feel better.

We shall see where this messy life ends up. I know I have to work harder, I also know I have to take it easy on myself and I know that I must be happy with what is because fighting is exhausting and I am very tired.

Here’s to writing again and never truly giving up. If we actually gave up, we wouldn’t get out of bed. And here we are, fighting the good fight for others that might have to face this thing called life.

Maybe the happy ending

It’s a little bit messy and imperfect. It’s a little bit beautiful and confusing. We all want the happy ending, but where is it? It is here and I just missed it? Or is it not here and it’s what motivates us to get out of bed in the morning? I’m not sure and that’s O.K.

Martin says it should all be pretty and fun. Him saying that helps. Me actually believing that is a whole other story. I love characters and I love stories; maybe that’s why I always expect that haunting happy ending. I like the part of the story where there’s struggle because it makes it interesting and intense. It’s been a bit more boring than usual and the fight feels long. Being real can feel like a full time job. Being real has never been hard but it is hard when someone refuses to see authenticity. Some do. Some don’t. That’s that.

Trees are always beside me and they speak to me. Their strength and their roots remind me that some things do last even throughout windy and dark times. We must keep calm and carry on. Will I keep getting older and have my dreams waiting for me anxiously to make them a reality?  I hope not for long; I hope not forever. I hope I can get a head start and finish soon enough to get some sort of prize. I hope the audience won’t be gone by the time the curtain goes up. I know talking about this isn’t as transcendent as actually doing something about it. But hey, I’m used to being a tortured artist; I can’t help myself.

Maybe the happy ending is now. Maybe we create it and accepting its imperfections is what matters most. Maybe.

The battle 

Me: I hear you heart and please stop. I feel you and you hurt. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been brave enough to pursue my dreams. I’m sorry failure has left me paralyzed. I’m sorry I couldn’t make better choices. Please forgive me, please stop. 

Heart: I forgive you completely but why are you giving up? I’m still beating and you know what that means? It’s not over. You can still pursue your dreams. Even if it’s more difficult, even if you feel you can’t do it again. If I’m still beating, then you can. So I know I’m broken and that makes it harder for you to carry on. I’m working on that. But even if we hurt, I know you can push through the pain and do what we love. Keep pushing, keep trying. And when you can’t and you don’t; that’s ok. But just try to picture what it’ll feel like when you’re successful and making a difference, when you’re fulfilling your calling; when you’re helping others. I know you hear and feel me; there’s a reason for that. Don’t ignore me. If anything, acknowledge me and talk to me; just don’t be indifferent to my desires. They are real and they are beautiful and they are authentic and can give you what you want. Do not let fear get in the way. He is someone you definitely shouldn’t listen to. And the details in between such as jobs, money, what others think, do not matter; not even a little. What people who love you say matters, what I say matters, when you see your greatness, that matters. Focus on what matters and don’t care about unimportant endeavors. They’re just there on the wall, they’re not the main performance. You know what it is; stop forgetting. And don’t silence me. At least hear me And give me a voice! I’m here for you to listen; for you to feel alive. Thank you. xx

Broken dreams 

It decided to be born by accident. It wasn’t planned. It started with a desire and died as an idea. Once upon another time the voice lived. It still lives in a dream and doesn’t know how to become real. Its creator is struggling with the living. And so it patiently waits to be brought forth. 
The closest it got to becoming was in a small town full of broken souls. Everyone was lost enough so that the dream hostess did not care enough about the judgment and just sang.
Life got in the way, as it usually did, and the almost dream got lost once more. It’s been silent for yet another year. In the shelf it remains. 
It’s a broken dream, it’s many broken dreams. Where do they go? The desire to make them happen isn’t always enough and they become passive. They remain in a world created by wandering souls. 
It’s a day when the dream remains lost but not forgotten. It will be waiting to come forth until the desire dies or burns brighter. I wait for the day where the voice can scream and be heard. I’ve been silent all these years and silence is an interesting teacher. I’m trying to learn and hold the desire in my heart. 
And to those dreamers that feel like giving up, don’t. Even if you want to and think you should, don’t. I have nothing else to say except: don’t. 

Meant to be

It’s a struggle until you unlearn what was taught to you by the passing voices in the halls of the school or the college you never went to. By the authority figures that think they’re doing you good by making you fit into the box. Boxes aren’t for everyone.
The leaves fall year after year and our expectations are left hanging on the wall as an art project because no one told you it’s never going to be the way you thought it would be.

 
We create beliefs and hope that most of them are positive instead of negative. You know what you don’t want, and so you venture out thinking that you’ll find what is perfect. But more than finding perfection you find life. You’re left between the cracks and you think that’s a bad thing but then you realize that that’s what makes you; that’s what makes art.

 
Those who can see beyond what is happening and have the understanding of a wallflower are the ones that are screaming on the inside. They’re the ones with opinions and all they want is to be heard.
Once in a blue moon you find one of the others and smile knowing you’re not alone. Sometimes one of the others turns away because the light is too bright for the darkness.

 
And then one day you’re woken up to a beautiful mess and all you know for sure is that it’s yours. The pieces, the colors, the memories, the moments aren’t there to be judged but observed and acknowledged. The books read will forever be stored in your hard drive. The opportunities missed will forever live in a parallel world.
The events waiting to happen and the stories untold are waiting for you to step in and bring them to life.
The love is felt by a beating heart and the pain has evaporated the tears but not without leaving a tiny scar on the left side of your brain.
It’s overwhelming and it’s all a part of it. It’s completely undone and touched poetically by the talkative sky. It’s here and it’s yours and it doesn’t have an ending; very much like this story.
It goes on and on until it’s easy to transition into what is meant to be.

The thought of you

The thought of you is haunting. It crawls in and it won’t let go of me. The memories last because they’re deep. The feeling has a name but I haven’t found it yet. The thought changes its form and it always takes your place. The thought of you smiles at me and knows. It knows what I’m feeling and how deep it goes. It had waited to find me because my heart had to grow big enough to feel you. Logic tries to deny me the pleasure of going in; today I won’t let it.

Passion grows and it shape shifts into trees and moments and experiences that never seem to end. I’m underwater and I’m up in the air. I’m here and I’m there and I’m everywhere and all I can see and think is you. I close my eyes and the thought is felt by the touch of your hand and that very unique smile on your face you have when you see me. It reminds me how much you love me even when you’re not close enough to hold me. It whispers lullabies that sound sweet and soft. It sometimes screams and makes me feel alive. The thought of you also reminds me of the challenges and it kindly tells me that love isn’t the absence of hardship but the growth it inevitably brings. I smile knowing that the path is lived tighter and closer than before because of them. I found the thought of you in my head and it was chasing me. You sometimes take a hold of me and I let you because it feels amazing and inspiring. Your eyes are leaves. As a child I always wanted a leaf because it is perfect and beautiful and sheds green and light wherever it happens to be; your eyes do the same for me. They shed green and light and give me hope even when hopelessness is trying to bring me down.

The thought of you reminds me who I was and who I am. It reminds me how deep down inside I knew all along what was real and what wasn’t. I thought I was insane for wanting more and wanting it as soon as humanly possible. It turns out the thought of you was real way before I met you. Having faith felt impossible at times because having you was necessary; and even though you were very close, we were worlds apart. The difficulties and mistakes from the past had to be lived and made in order to be able to finally see you. I probably passed by you a thousand times but I just couldn’t see you. You say I’m the invisible woman because you weren’t ready to see me. I couldn’t see you either. Now I see you, I feel you and I think you. Now you’re here.

The future is always unknown but the present is given and is meant to be enjoyed and acknowledged. The thought of you today needed to be felt. The thought of you keeps going and loves the red and the raw and the passion. The thought of you makes me smile and makes me want to be completely and absolutely me. It teaches me about compassion and growth and it reminds me how love should be. It isn’t perfect, it’s magical.

Pain

My choices have made no sense. I look back and don’t understand a thing. It all made sense until I graduated high school. I was the perfect little girl. I didn’t question anything. I had no issues with any teachers or any authority figure. Some people around me did have some issues with me. Just my existence seemed to bother them. I had a cousin whose sole purpose was to make my life miserable. There was this other girl Regina, she wanted me to have no friends. So, even without me being aware of it…I was an outcast. It was all subconscious. I was different but nobody informed me. More than that, I was thrown into the most logical, structured, controlled environment you could think of. I was innocent, I was pure. I didn’t know much at the time. I graduated with good grades and then it all began. My subconscious mind started to act out. I got into a very prestigious University, as it was to be expected. I got in, the extended family was happy. Then, everything the professors were saying made no sense. They were telling us how to think. They were telling us nothing mattered more than money. I snapped.

I had always liked music but I had been shy. I didn’t want to be like everybody else. Odd since that had been what I had done for 18 years. How could I know anything else? Maybe it was my mom. My mom was typical but not quite. She also had this spark in her that told her there was more. She saw me before I saw me. She knew I was an artist. I didn’t even know the definition of such person. It’s OK to be odd? How could that be? All that had mattered was doing what I was told.

I said goodbye to the prestigious University that would have gotten me any job I’d like and decided to move to L.A and study music. There was one little problem I did not quite contemplate. I didn’t know how to commit to being a rebel. Yes, it was there…but so was the logical side that I had worked on for so long. I embarked on my journey as an artist and didn’t make it. That’s OK. Everyone needs a happy ending; I’ve learned that they are not what they seem. Life isn’t what it seems. And that’s fine.

So I’m always in between. The only little thing was that I never committed to the logical side or the artistic side. I’m both. I’m always in between. Because of this, I suffer. I don’t feel like I fit in here not there. This all started when I was 19. I realized I was half and half. It has caused much pain but hey…you can’t be something you’re not.

I love prestige and success. I love raw and real. I love being free but I think money is great. I like things to be easy but the struggle also inspires me to write. I have a logical boyfriend and he pushes me more towards the logical side and I think deep down inside I’m more an artist. Why? They’re cooler, they’re rarer. They are admired, they leave a mark.

And so, the last three years and a half was the longest I was able to commit to being outside the system and some sort of artist. I wrote a book, I had gigs around town for a year and I started two blogs. I guess that’s something. And then, suddenly, I ran out of money. It had happened before but and this is a big but; now I’m in love. As most know, love changes everything. Love doesn’t allow you to get away with a lot of crap you can get away with when you’re single. You can eat soup everyday and it doesn’t matter if you’re single. But, as I’ve mentioned before, he’s the logical type and he’s somebody. I don’t know what that means. That’s a lie; I do know what that means but I’m a bit surprised I ended up with someone so different than what I’ve become. I haven’t just ended up with him, I’m madly and deeply in love with him. Who am I then? I’m willing to move to a high paced city and get a more corporate job so that I can “make it”. Am I being a hypocrite or is that who I am? It doesn’t matter. I guess sometimes some things shouldn’t be associated with our identity.

Our plan is to work and save and travel. Yes, that’s right. I said our plan. Never had my plan included someone else and now it does. I’m grateful for this love. I’m simply going through this transition. I feel blindfolded. I feel neutral. I feel this is what has to happen. It has made me cry a couple of times. It has caused pain. But that’s fine. Who would I be without pain? My life never seems to be calm, it never seems to be figured out and I should embrace that. It has been anything but boring.

So yes; this is a bit painful. And you know what? That’s fine. Pain isn’t about avoidance. Pain demands to be felt so there you go pain. I feel you, I embrace you, I don’t resist you. We can be friends and write beautiful things together. You’re here and you are not ignored.

That’s the thing about pain; it demands to be felt. Yes, I feel pain. But I’m smart and pretty and I can keep calm and carry on.

In love

I’m in love. Just like that, it happened. Most of my posts were about this alluring energy that always escaped me. And then suddenly, just like the sun obviously rises every day, I was in love; madly so. How? I do not know. It just did. I hate to sound so generic but that’s exactly what it felt like.

His green eyes never looked so real; his smile never so white. It wasn’t at all what they tell you it is. It’s deeper. I won’t say better or worse because those adjectives should never be used to describe humans. It’s simply deeper, more complex.

The colors of the rainbow finally seem to make sense. You no longer question why red is on the outside, you’re fine because it simply is. Even when chaos surrounds, you want to smile. Life feels lighter and the days brighter. You can simply sit next to each other and have nothing bother you. I’m a recovering over-thinker and I never thought this could be so. I never thought I could just let it be.

Hearts aren’t as generic as you once thought they were. They are actually precious gems that must be protected at all costs and cherished constantly. You’re no longer reckless with what you say because there is a creature in your life that cares that actually listens to everything you say and how you say it. You no longer think that life is simply about the waiting. The waiting is indeed the hardest part about the living and in a blink of an eye, it becomes forgotten and almost nonexistent as soon as someone walks in the door and never lets you go.

You unexpectedly and slowly change. You remind yourself of the promises you made to yourself when you were single and honor them but always leaving room for change. If not, how could it bloom? It couldn’t. You think you’re tough until someone cuts you open and makes you face the softest sides of yourself. The sides you were trying to hide from because you were afraid of what you might find; only to find they were precisely the parts of yourself you needed to see the most.

Kisses become a regular part of your routine. Happiness becomes much more obvious and flowers seem to bloom in a much more natural way than they did before; they turn to the sun naturally.

You know and you remember who you used to be but you simply become a more beautiful version of yourself, you bloom. You feel understood, held and warm.

I’m in love. Just like that, it happened.

The point of it all

I’m reading a book about energy. How to keep it up and how to control it. I wish they would have taught this in school. I want to learn. Or better yet, unlearn.

Kids know it all. We know it all. We’re taught by those that do not know. They are trying to teach us how to be but nobody ever taught them. Some of them forgot; others never knew better. Maybe their parents knew. Maybe someday they’ll know.

Energy transforms our lives. Energy can save us from ourselves. When did we forget that the point of it all was to be happy? Yes, cars must be driven; food must be eaten; airplanes demand to be boarded. Places demand to be seen and money to be spent. But they should never become more important than our joy. When did we decide to pay that very high price? The price of peace. The price of joy. The price of life.

I’m not saying I’ve got this down. But at least I’m saying I want to. So many glorify the matrix we’ve created, we forget the point. Yes, the physical world can be touched but it’s only one dimension of life. I still don’t know any better. I catch myself craving more and more constantly. It’s almost as though it’s the ultimate test. A test I must pass if I truly want to be happy.

Children demand nothing, not at first. They simply are. They smile, they laugh, and only cry when they are actually in need. Remind yourself of that child. Remind yourself of your freedom. Improve your energy. No decisions can be made when you cannot see clearly. Unlearn the concepts that hold you back from being happy. Life might never be perfect but it can be perfectly enjoyed.

I want it all without falling into the trap of making it my only priority. I want to know better and be unapologetically joyful. Is that so much to ask? Happiness changes as much as we do, but if it’s connected to our energy, it can be stable. When we do not link our joy to things, we can maintain it for as long as we want.

It’s a complex concept to grasp but worth the try. If it makes you happy…it’s worth the shot. Results coming soon…