Preguntas en la oración

I've been missing my church... never EVER would have thought I'd say those words... but I find that whenever it wanders into my mind, the sermons give me exactly what I need. I thought the FoCO one posted its sermons online, so I went on a search. They don't. I was sad. Instead, I found a podcast from a church of the same faith in San Francisco. The following is a list of sentences, thoughts and things I wanted to remember from a podcast that was, as I said, exactly what I needed.

"How to Pray Without Being Religious" - 1st Unitarian Universalist Society of San Francisco

"Praying" by Mary Oliver

It doesn't have to be

 the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few 

small stones; just 

pay attention, then patch 

a few words together and don't try

to make them elaborate, this isn't 

a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

When asked to whom to Buddhists pray, the Zen Buddhist monk replied this way:

The one who prays and the one prayed to are two realities that cannot be separated from each other. This is basic Buddhism and I am quite sure that in every religion there are those who have practiced for a long time who have this understanding.God is us and we are God. The one who bows and the one who is bowed to are both, by nature empty. Therefore the communication between us is inexpressibly perfect. 

Likewise the prayers of Native Americans are not always directed to a specific deity being or invisible spirit. Instead prayer is often invoked vaguely, say the spirit of a tree or river.

The whole of creation is alive with spirit, the breath of life, with the divine impulse. Why pray to a distant creator when the spirit of life is at your fingertips? or even in your fingertips? When your very heart beats with the force of life? Rivers and trees in the ground often make more sense than deities above the clouds. 

Words from some Christian on prayer:

A reflection on the depths of life. As a way of giving thought and voice to ultimate concerns. And a measure of what we take seriously without any reservation. Those who know about depth, know about God.

Still there are those who consider prayer a conversation with God.

Instead, I pray to seek the deepest ground of my being so as to gain a personal experience of the deepest truths of life and death, and of faith and truth.

• Prayer precipitates action. 1 act of social justice is worth 70 years of prayer. (Koran)
• I cannot maintain a balanced life if I am feeding the hungry but starving my own soul.
• Three questions to answer a problem: What do I know? What does it mean? Then, what do I do?
• Approach that question prayerfully. Don't be afraid to pray. Especially when it's the only thing left to do
• Prayer is mostly silence.
• The voices in our heads can justify just about anything.

"God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer."

A guide to PRAY

• P- praise - offer gratitude, for all that I have, for all that I am. 
• R- "repent" (to turn around)/ relieve - to look for forgiveness, acknowledge my fallibility, encourage making amends
• A - ask - advocate for those who are in need or those you simply care about; name those who get on your nerves, and pray so you can experience their divinity, pray for the causes you believe in, your church, your planet. 
• Y - yourself - introspection and self-care, laugh, weep, complain, call myself to live on higher ground... see what it is hiding behind your reflection. with practice these two selves will merge

Our work is loving the world, accomplished by "mostly standing still and learning to be amazed." - Mary Oliver

Take the time today to be amazed by the world every day. Call on that which you already have to become who you already are.

http://www.learnoutloud.com/podcaststream/listen.php?url=http://www.uusf.org/AboutUUSF/SermonArchive/RSS/UUSF_Sermons.xml&all=1&title=20061

"How to Pray Without Being Religous"

Dude. I feel like I can only be so productive for so long.

This week (meaning yesterday and the day before), instead of Facebooking, I did the following:

1. Responded to all needed response emails. 
2. Emailed Ann (2 weeks late... but finally)
3. Went to campus and got myself back into a Spanish class. 
4. Went to said Spanish class (or the end of it) to figure out what my homework is for tomorrow.
5. Finished my AmeriCorps app and applied for 10 positions or so. 
6. Have been in daily contact with one of the AmeriCorps volunteers in Fort Lupton, trying to narrow down my options for when I come home.
7. Thought, too much, daily. 
8. Blogged a lot. 
9. Read the NYTimes every day.
10. Talked a lot with my hermanita.
11. Finished and submitted my Tulane application. 
12. Accepted and turned in some of the paperwork for UC EH. 
13. Practically finished my FAFSA (there's one part that I need my dad for and he hasn't gotten back to me yet)
14. Brushed & flossed my teeth every night before bed. 
15. Watched 2 movies (Mrs. Frisby & the Rats of NIMH) and (The Phantom Tollbooth) -- both based off books I loved as a child. 
16. Today, I went to work, carrying my laptop, mind you, in the SWELTERING heat, grabbed the rest of sector 1, and came back here just in time to resume my normal few hours of whatever before I go to el Centro to meet up with Ricardo to chat about his CO experience. 
17. Spent a lot of time reflecting on when I should go home. And the more I think about it, the more I think it should be May.
18. Finally emailed JJ back.
19. Listened to a really impactful sermon from a branch of my faith in San Fran

Okay. REALLY!? 

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/19/us/huge-blast-at-texas-fertilizer-plant.html?pagewanted=1&_r=0&hp

I GET IT! I'M WORKING ON IT. ENOUGH. DISASTERS. THANK. YOU.

Yeah, that's very self-oriented. I guess disasters are kind of a daily occurrence in war, in the world. So I might as well stop being surprised by them and just make sure to try to understand what happened in an effort to learn from the horrid.

This particular one is of interest to me because it's in my field. Likely the fault of the company, who did not have an appropriate emergency response plan, clearly did not inform their volunteer firefighters nor the officials of the danger. It also appears that OSHA might have been aware of suspicious operations with ammonia, as early as the 80's, but with it's severe cuts and limitations, overlooked this small plant in this small town in this small part of TX. 

Bah. There's only so much we can do, right? 

From the article, it sounds like the town is taking care of its own. For those who lost loved ones, homes and the feeling of safety, I send my thoughts.

~~

Was Hell created by God? Who "damns" people to go there?

~~

OHMYGOD THIS CHALLENGE SUCKS. I reallllly want to get on just so I can waste time. Bahhhhh. 

Babear

In my effort to avoid Facebook... I came across this gem:

Simply surfing the still depressing NYTimes, I saw this picture... and practically started salivating. (Is that a normal response to see someone in an uncomfortably bulky white suit, lemon yellow boots and latex gloves? latex gloves!!) Alllso, can we just appreciate that first sentence? #soproud #unintentional

I would seriously look forward to the days when Ampe would yell, "Noops, Alex, let's go!" and I would be left in the dust while scrambling to load up on safety gear: steal toed boots, my latex gloves, eye goggles and boom. - running, yelling for my fellow intern as we sprint down the hall, trying to figure out where in the world Ampe just went and where the latest incident might have been. 

Now. I fully understand that I'm not using a picture of a yeast spill on the roof... or some chemical spill by the tanker... This picture is of the individuals searching for bomb remnants from Tuesday's attack. There is still human blood dried onto the concrete sidewalk. Echos of screams have yet to dissipate from the air and there still exists fear, pain and loss. Therefore, drooling is probably the incorrect response.

However, the patients are in hospital care, and now it's time for each agency to do it's duty. It just so happens that this job, this part of any emergency response, an integral part of this process, that's what excites me about life, inspires me to continue applying, continue reaching out to the world... continuing hoping for my professional future. Because one day, I want to do that. 

When I love something, it giggles from the tips of my fingers and my eyes glow. I can barely keep the pep out of my step while jumping for joy in an bubbling excitement and desire to share. The smile on my face is the widest it gets, my teeth on display, stifled bursts of laughing disbelief that I'm actually doing something this cool... 

That's how I feel in a suit (which by the way, just adds to the ludicrousness of it all), investigating a problem. That's how I felt cleaning up that accidental hazardous spill at NBB. This is really happening! 

I expect that's a normal response when a journey that began with an accidental book choice more than 10 years ago is finally seeing the fruits of hard labor, ups and downs with belief, and plenty of patience.

5 minutos meditar en la muerte

Once, I truly believed that all headphones are the same. Que realmente, no puedas comprar audífonos malos, especialmente tan malos.

Lesson learned. These headphones are actually terrible, tremendously ruining the quality of music and turning it into noise. Maybe this is what my mom hears when she listened to my rock music back in the day. I mean really, this is terrible. 

When I got here, I was having a particularly excellent day. I was on my way to the bus stop, it was a beautiful morning,  I felt on top of the world. I went through a period of about a week where I listened to Natasha Bedingfield pretty much every day... and I only have 3 or 4 songs of hers so I knew every single word that was going. In all seriousness, there I was, on a beautiful day, half skipping to the bus stop singing "the rest is still unwritten" back in February... and I happened to look down mid-half-skip to see the unmistakable dead body of a cat, eyes open, on its side, like it might have fallen over in place, its fur gangly and straw like, on end... Except for the flies now starting to gather, it might have been Avada Kedavra-ed. I kept half-skipping and didn't really miss a beat. Actually I think the most interesting thing of all of it is how unaffected I was. Hmm, dead cat.

And when I came back at the end of the day, dead cat was gone.

Now this was in front of una casa typically brimming with feline creatures, old, young, flaccos and gordos. So maybe the abundance of the creatures is what made it so passable... maybe it's because I really REALLY don't care for cats (or so I like to tell myself)... I wonder how I would have reacted if it was a dog laying there, eyes open, frozen dead on the sidewalk on my way to school.

But really, I think it was because I was on top of the world,mentally  and emotionally. On top of the world in happiness and peace. A dead body in my path would not bring me down. It didn't.

I can just not figure out the lesson in this experience.

"No sé a dónde va, pero ¿tiene espacio para una alma atribulada más?"

Hoy, en lugar del Face, hablé con mi hermanita y me dio el disco nuevo de un grupo que nos encanta: Fall Out Boy. Planeamos a ir a un concierto este verano y vamos a comprar boletos. Productivo. Estoy muy emocionada a compartir esta parte de mi vida, conciertos y música, con mi hermanita. Es algo que me da fuego y energía. También, en el fin de la conversación  le dije, "Oye, out of all of the psycho little sisters out there, I'm glad I got you." Sipi, lo dije. Es loco como cambia nuestra relación, pero lo amo. Y soy muy agradecida para ella. 

También, hablé con una amiga sobre fe y dios... cosas que antes, nunca le dí mis opiniones, por lo menos nunca tan claramente. No es algo que normalmente hablo... porque de mis experiencias dolorosas  y como rápido puede destruir una amistad. 

De hecho, creo que es la primera vez he hablado con alguien que tiene fe... desde muchos años. Normalmente solo escucho. Cuando hablaba, era con mis compañeros de ciencias hace muchos lunas, hablábamos de los ignorancias de los que tienen fe, las excusas que crean. Ahora, no hablo muy profundamente con nadie sobre este tema... sobre todo porque todavía yo no sé que pienso y mi repuesta defecto es contra, duro y llena de dolor.

El fe en mi vida es extraño. Mi mama, católica. Mi papa, hindú. Con la madurez y compasión finalmente comprendo y escucho a los que tienen fe o religión. Aprendí en una clase que tenemos una razón biológica a creer. Hay una parte del cerebro por este, es parte de nuestra evolución. Cuando lo me di cuento, decidí bueno, podemos creer, es mejor para la vida si creemos en algo - dios, una causa, no lo importa. Para tener fe, una creencia, puede vale la pena a vivir. Cambió mi mente. "Bueno," me dije, "si es algo que nos ayuda en la oportunidad a vivir, si es algo donde encontramos una código de honor y morales, si nos enseña a vivir con amor, puede ser algo bueno." 

Empezaba a darme cuenta que cuando alguien quiere compartir su fe o religión .. especialmente un amigo, es porque te cuidan. Es porque tienen confianza en ti, y porque te quieren. Por lo menos puede ser estas razones y es mas fácil a creer este que el opuesto. 

Finalmente estoy en mi propio proceso con fe y religión. Y he estado desde años. Con este concepto de "energía" "el Universo", como digo... no sé. Queda pensamientos de duda, que sea ciega para creer.  

Hoy decidí que no creo que hay una plana. Creo que cosas pasan, sin intención de algún dios arriba. No es como esa escena en "Johnny Darko" cuando vemos un camino en frente de nosotros que estamos obligado a seguir. Que es el punto si no tenemos el libre albedrío? Es, creo, es la pregunta, la cosa que creo religión puede quitarnos si dependemos tan mucho. Y porque fundamentalmente tengo problemas dando todo mi fe en algo así.

Creo que cosas pasan y hay cosas a aprender de ellas... pero también creo que hay una razón que decimos "actos sin sentido" (de la violencia, por ejemplo). Hay unas cosas que solo no tienen sentido. Sencillo.

Creo que karma opera en este mundo, con mucho fuerzo. Pero pueda pasar durante muchos cursos de vida... que cada persona tiene la opción a hacer decisiones, y cambian el mundo y el camino. No quiero creer que no tenemos esta libertad o que cosas horribles, como Boston, son en la plana de dios. No lo creo. Prefiero que el mundo tiene cosas malas y obscuras sin razón a la opción de algún dios quería el dolor que esas cosas han causado. Es contra la definición de "dios" a mi. 

Deja el concepto que "cada cosa pasa para una razón". Si creo que no hay una plana, creo en este? Nooo séeeee. Creo que puedo creer en señales de "el Universo" "la Energía", equis... porque son cosas que mandan a fomentar nuestras decisiones, este tiene razón a mi.... y no pueden controlar nuestra decisiones entonces necesitan una manera a ayudarnos, si escuchamos. A mi, este tiene mucho razón. Pero la primera cosa? la primera pregunta? Todavía necesito meditar en este.

Ugh. 

Es una conversación que sigue. 

"Oooh, how the mighty fall, the mighty fall... 
Fall in love."

Pensamientos para hoy: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/hot-thought/201002/does-everything-happen-reason-0

Una semana desde el principio

Yesterday, two bombs went off in the 2013 Boston Marathon. 

Original estimates were 2 dead with 20+ injured. Today, the count is 3 dead and about 180 injured. The injuries range from leg amputees to scratches and cuts. One of those dead is an 8 year old boy. Another is the granddaughter of someone who loved her. 

The footage from the event is astounding. With the towers, at least when I was 11 and my parents and teachers closely monitored the kind of media I saw, I did not see blood on the streets, bodies of victims in chairs and stretchers and first responders staying in the hot zone to aid all of those wounded. I just saw a plane crash and two towers fall down. Maybe it's my age. Maybe it's the footage. This feels more real to me. 

I cry for the victims, I cry for Boston, I cry for the world. The duplicity of man, villain and hero, lives on to this day. An ageless story with victims of the physical, mental and emotional sort... 

And once again life is pushing me in a specific direction. The rush of an emergency, the sharp and pressure filled environments to gather information with many holes, make decisions, and act. Act quickly. Be it a hazardous situation, a chemical spill, a bomb... 

The incident management team,first responders, emergency situations. I've gotta do that. I have already claimed mine as a life of service. The problem has been how to beautifully sew service, health and the kind of situation my brain needs to thrive together into a beautiful little package. Hello. Disasters. I go back and forth on what kind of work I want to do with my life. The reason I'm drawn towards Industrial Hygiene is because it makes me think of the IMT at NBB. But really, those two things are entirely unrelated. What I'm looking for is emergency management, disaster prevention. In this field you have human interaction, leadership, quick thinking and response, health sciences, pressure and team work. It's also sexy. And I know who I am. I acknowledge that I thrive and need external approval. This is a sexy field. It's also a dangerous one. Coming from the girl who wanted work in a Level 4 Biozone at the age of 13, I think danger is good in my professional life. And I can still work for the government. FEMA, EPA, CDC, every branch of ever has an emergency management department. I think this is it. I can be international, it can be domestic. It could be in a private company, consulting, governmental, non-profit. There's flexibility within this field. It's the 2nd in the list of public health careers. Yup. 

I've found it. Now what do I do with it. How do I get there?

I've figured out the first step, right? 

And when I want something, I have "a particularly excellent way of manifesting it". Meaning, I just keep trying until it happens. 

In a disgusting and twisted way, with the sacrifice of many on my mind, I have been given me this thought: this is the most peaceful I've felt in weeks. 

Sin Face, d'ia uno.

It's like I grew up and moved on. Like what was is now gone. And here I am and there you are. And in between is really far. 

Yeah THAT gem came out of my fingers as a facebook post before I decided I'd had enough of the damn thing for a month. So. Once again I find myself in a 30 day no facebook challenge.

Wish me luck.

Day 1. I mean. Officially that's tomorrow. Or today. I guess it's 2 hours into today. And it's been no less than 10 minutes since I made this public declaration and I ALREADY want to get back on to see if anyone's noticed my status, or commitment, or if they have opinions...

or if anyone cares.

It's a dull and empty replacement for true companionship, the "like" button... a "comment" or a "post".

I just thought about writing a poem about the like button. #timeforbed 

Lágrimas tienen muchos significados

So I believe there exist "just missed 'em"s in my life. Like that camion the other day... or guy that would have the been perfect boyfriend, but you're 2 years behind (relatively small amount of time, both in a relationship, life and in the dramatically long length of the universe), ooor that "we would have been best friends if you weren't living in a different country" person... if only we were in the same place at the same time.

Timing.

My dad told me three things that got me through Uganda. Like literally told me as he was driving me (state-of-panic me... which if you don't know, is a NIGHTMARE) to the airport in the middle of the night. And he said, "I have three things I need to tell you before you go.

1) I love you.
2) I am proud of you.
3) Time passes. Whether things are going well or they're going poorly, time passes. It may seem faster at some times and slower at some times, but ultimately, it continues to tick on."

 Yup. That's my dad.

Sometimes I feel so blessed I start crying. These days, that happens a lot when I think about my parents. I feel moved to tears a lot these days. There was a quote I read once that struck me, and excuse the butchering of the words, but more or less it was "A day that moves one to tears is a day lived." Tears can be expressions of joy, fear, love, sadness. As one of my friends said recently, "They're one of the most intimate things you can share with someone." Well... that's definitely true. And it doesn't help that I am like una cascada out here -- I can't seem to make them stop. So I'm hiding my face from people I'm not necessarily ready to be that vulnerable with... We (US folks) have this cultural belief that tears make you weak. Wow, I believe tears show that someone is feeling deeply, so deeply that their emotion breaks the mind-body barrier and causes a physiological reaction. It's incredible that something intangible can cause a physiological reaction, the same way a physical wound might cause the brain to release tears of pain or dust in the eye stimulates the tear glands to keep the body clean and safe.

And that kind of depth of feeling should be praised. The fact that you have the capacity to feel that profundamente... that's something to be celebrated.

When I cry I know I am feeling deeply in that moment; instead of ashamed, I'm actually proud of myself. "Now you're living a human life," I say to myself. "Complete with the pure raw emotion of gratitude, joy, sadness, compassion and empathy." Yup. That's what "living" is to me.

I also, like many spirits who have lived many lifetimes on this planet, believe in signs. I believe the Universe does things for us in an effort to teach us things we still need to learn. And this Universe is sending me some conflicting mother freaking signs.

That's the human condition, I guess.

Back to the "just missed em"s... and time. And tears. And my dad. I swear it's all connected.

I was just writing the other day how my heart is being called to two very distinct places right now. The first of which being my grandma - in New Mexico. Not even her house or her farm, but actually to my grandma specifically. What the hell is that about? Well... everything here reminds me of her. Wonder why that might be? Why the soft skin of an abuelita I'm standing near en un camion might make me think of my grandma's genetically similar soft, kind skin. Why every time I turn around I'm realizing something more about me and my family... like, for example, why my mom and gramma have called me "hijita" my whole life... and I've NEVER thought about that being indicative of a particular culture. Why the buildings in San Jose Tecoh look like the buildings in Peñasco, New Mexico. Jesus Christ. There's an NYE in the NAME of my grandmother's town. How is it that I've never EVER asked her how she came to be where she is or even talked to my great grandmother about her life? Never even asked? And now, my grandma in "remission" from breast cancer (actually we don't know because she refuses to go back to a doctor or through chemo again)... and I've never taken the chance to say to my own grandmother, "Grandma, tell me your story?". Karmic. Fail.

The second place my heart is yearning for is India. Life has taken me to some strange places. I spent 3 months in Uganda. Have spent 4 in Mexico. (Hmm, anyone noticing a pattern? Racial identity journey? Check.) I swear my next stop is India. Little things are calling me there. "Signs", we might call them. But different from my other calling, this is not to one person, but the culture as a whole. So many travel to India to "find themselves" or "discover beauty" or "grow spiritually". Not to belittle their experiences or motivations because really, what more do I know about India than they do... but I feel it. India is in my blood. Parts of India are part of me - half of my upbringing, half of who I am. And it's been calling me for years. Time to go back. Time to see it differently. Time to live in India for 3 or 4 months. Or a year. Or however long the Universe lets me go back to the land of my blood.

And now there's an opportunity. But is it cheap bait? Ah, the forbidden and infinite question. Is anything in this Life "cheap bait"? A two week trip with my dad. How more perfect could that be? From who else would I learn my history than my dad who lived it from 21 years of his life? Who else could convince others (or me) that my independence is not (or is) stupid and I can (or cannot) do things on my own? Who else could serve as the translator for this half-blood ABCD desperately looking for herself in this giant world of colors?

Sometimes I think about the fact that my parents have literally known me all my life. I have known my siblings all their lives. That is pretty profound. There's not a lot of people like that. Only two, for me. Mom and Dad. Only 3 for my brother: Mom, Dad, Big Sister. And only 4 for my sister: Mom, Dad, Big Sister and Big Brother. Weird. Beautiful. Tears.

And what would I sacrifice for this need? A half-made commitment in shadow of one already kept. The sense of belonging I already have here. My kids at work.

Interestingly, the only relationship I would really be giving up permanently would be that with my kids. But that relationship will end eventually. They will grow, some may or may not return to the program. I have accepted that after this experience, I will probably never see my kids again. My friendships will not dissipate as fast. I know that I will return to this place, maybe several times, across this lifetime and others, and have no worries regarding las amistades que ya he creado.

And in that vein of thought. I have met my kids before, and will meet them again - I am not worried about that. I recognize a few of them, recognize their souls, feel the familiarity, and have a strong desire to tackle and hug them as old friends - had that immediately, actually. This Life is so weird. I'm becoming more of a Hindu every day... I think I need to go to India.

They say that one asks for advice when one already knows the answer and just needs the advice giver to confirm what you want. I'm lucky enough to have people in my life who will actually share their raw opinions on my dilemmas. The problem is that I take that a step further. I ask advice of people when I think I already know their answer. This poses problems as asking for advice because it makes me... a certain type of manipulative. But this is an interesting question, because I actually don't know what my pocketful of advice givers would tell me. And even more interesting is that they're far enough away from me that I don't know how to ask.

Could I go from here? Or come back? Miss 2 weeks of this place? Can you imagine? Visiting India from a trip to Mexico?

I could do that. And be okay with it. So many moving wheels. I don't do patience. (Character flaw.) Another reason I'm still chillin' here on earth with so many familiar and loving souls. It's one or the other. And I'm feeling the draw home too. Brlalkdf. I want to go. My heart is calling me there. I need to go.

As per usual no conclusion is reached, and I certainly didn't tie all my thoughts together... actually they're as they are in my brain... scattered, lost, and deeply pure, raw and honest. Authentic. With authenticity comes hot mess. At least in my realm of reality, those two ways of being are entirely intertwined.

In the spirit of everything, I'll leave you with this:

कल हो ना हो. Tomorrow may or may not be. Mañana podría o no podría ser.

I cannot wait until I can write blogs like this entirely in Hindi (like I can in Spanish, albeit broken, still understandable.) These will be my 3 languages. The tongues of my present and my past. English. Español. हिंदी. La palabra tiene el poder de dar algo sin vida una respiración. 

Notes of a Reader

It's another one of those days when I just shouldn't get on FaceBook. I know better. Shockingly, I'm drawn to the damn thing like an insect to a fluorescent light. BIDZZZZ. Yup. Heart fried.

So I'm reading this book. I have raced through it and I still can't even tell you if I like it. Mostly because I don't really get along with the author - which may only make sense to those of you who read all the time. Or maybe just to me. I enjoy his discoveries, how he describes his revelations, though some I myself had years ago and find mundane, but I cannot stand who he portrays himself to be... an odd place to be when you've read over 300 pages of someone's work, giggled at times, been stumped at times, and tagged every few pages with a quote you must write about... but it's really about his experience. Not him, which is a new contradiction I'm not entirely sure I'm fond of.

My personal uneasiness aside, there were many many parts of the book I'd like to share -- if not mostly to reflect on when I have time. So the following are all quotes from "The Geography of Bliss" by Eric Weiner, some of which are his words, and some are the words of those he met on his journey.

• "'We're here because we're here; if you want an explanation I've usually found it a soothing one.'" (36)
• "When the last tree is cut, when the last river is emptied, When the last fish is caught, Only then will man realize that he can not eat money." (37) 
• "... I have achieved happiness because I don't have unrealistic expectations." (63)
• "... there is nothing greater than compassion. If you have dome something good, then in the moment you should feel satisfaction." (63)
• "You need to think about death for five minutes every day. It will cure you, sanitize you.... It is this thing, this fear of death, this fear of dying before we have accomplished what we want or seen our children grow. This is what is troubling you... Rich people in the west, they have not touched dead bodies, fresh wounds, rotten things. This is a problem. This is the human condition. We have to be ready for the moment we cease to exist." (65)
• "We try to eliminate the need for compromise... Why shouldn't everyone enjoy their own personal comfort level, be it in a car or in a bed? ... What [do] we lose in such conveniences. If we no longer must compromise on the easy stuff, like mattresses, then what about the truly important issues? Compromise is a skill, and like all skills it atrophies from lack of use." (87)
• "Our families are our greatest source of love and support. They are also the ones who, statistically, are mostly likely to kill us... They are our salvation and our ruin." (111)
• "So the greatest source of happiness is other people - and what does money do? It isolates us from other people It enables us to build walls, literal and figurative, around ourselves. We move from a teeming college dorm to an apartment to a house and, if we're really wealthy, to an estate. We think we're moving up, but really we're walling ourselves off." (114)
• "... all is maya, illusion. Things are not as they seem... Our highs, our accomplishments, are not real. But neither are out setbacks, our mushkala. They are not real either." (139)
• "Necessity may be the mother of invention, but interdependence is the mother of affections. WE humans need one another, so we cooperate - for purely selfish reasons at first. At some point though, the needing fades and all that remains is the cooperation. We help other people because we can, or because it makes us feel good, not because we're counting on some future payback. There is a word for this: love." (143)
• "The line between the actor and the act blurs and, in some cases, disappears entirely. There is no dancer. There is only dancing. Flow is not the same as happiness. In fact, when we interrupt flow to take stock of our happiness, we lose both." (172)
• "Neuroscientists believe they have located the part of the brain linked to altruism. To their surprise, it turns out to be a more primitive part of the brain than initially suspected - the same part associated with our cravings for food and sex. That suggests that we are hardwired for altruism and not just faking it." (202)
• "'One always begins to forget a place as soon as it's left behind.'" (217) - Charles Dickens
• "Lesson number one [from Moldova]: 'Not my problem' is not a philosophy. It's a mental illness. Right up there with pessimism. Other people's problems are our problems. ... 'The quality of a society is more important than your place in that society.' In other words, better to be a small fish in a clean pond than a big fish in a polluted lake.'" (218)
• "I've spent most of my life trying to think myself to happiness, and my failure to achieve that goal only proves, in my mind, that I am to a good enough thinking. It never occurred to me that the source of my unhappiness is not flawed thinking but thinking itself."
• "... if nothing you do matters, then life suddenly feels a lot less heavy. It's just one big game. And as any 10 yr old will tell you, the best games are the ones where everyone gets to play." (241)
• "They want meaningful lives, and those are not always the same as happy lives." (237)
• "And that... is the problem with hedonic floaters like... many of us Americans and our perpetual pursuit of happiness. We may be fairly happy now, but there's always tomorrow and the prospect of a happier place, a happier life. So all options are left on the table. We never fully commit. That is, I think, a dangerous thing. We can't love a place, or a person, if we always have one foot out the door."(318)
• "There is one simple question, he said, the answer to which identifies your true home. That question is: 'Where do you want to die?'" (320)

I find it strange that within minutes of finishing the book, the quotes that I found so important while reading, I now find mundane... normally not the case with a good book. Hmm -- I really don't like this author. I shall reflect on the few that still stick to me. I even skipped several as I went along typing them here ... hmm... 

Too much thinking. I'm going to blast my face in the A/C and watch an episode of something remarkably stupid and meaningless - like Glee. 

Que estaba destinado a estar aquí. Pertenezco aquí. Nada mas importa.

Today I was reminded of something I once knew quite well: the back of the bus is the most bouncy.

Who needs to remember something like that after those horrid early adolescent years of yellow bus chasing? Who would intentionally venture towards the back of the bus again, knowing it would be littered with young, hormonal teens making out (who knows how they did that without biting each other with every dip and crevice in the road), empty highlighter shells, surely used as the newest form of an unidentifiable marijuana pipe. Well, I mean, the cool kids, of course. But I certainly wasn't all that cool in high school...

And that notion of avoiding the back of the bus has proved to be useful here in Mérida, as any adventure back there requires some serious gear, like a sports bra, for one. But today was one of those unfortunate days when the guy a seat forward and opposite of me was particularly interested in engaging in a staring contest and I, reluctant to give in so obviously, felt more uncomfortable staying still than the power in physically moving myself away. So I did. I moved myself to the back of the bus where I might enjoy my bumpy ride in peace.

This inspired me to do some research. Because I've been here for four months, and I can't get over the staring. In Uganda, I got it. I clearly looked entirely different than that people there. But if I don't open my mouth to speak, folks believe I'm from some Latina denomination... yet they continue to stare. There goes the "it's cause I'm different" excuse.

So apparently, this is just a particularly Mexican thing to do, that really bothers a lot of extranjeros, particularly women, as many blogs indicate. I wonder if men in the United States are as piggish as I've found them to be in other countries. I'm going to try to take notice when I go home. I don't think they are. Seriously, when I travel... my tolerance for men sky dives. Makes me sick. And sad.

And yes, that's harsh. But so is being a woman. Something I still dislike about myself.

Speaking of men, I afraid that I'm going to be lonely my whole life.

I hope that you appreciate how raw and honest that was. That is one of my 3 greatest fears in life. And each one of the 3 takes its turn in the number one spot. So in some way or another, I just told you my greatest fear in Life. Let me put it this way.

Jessica's afraid she won't find love
She says that she's never home
And just last night I swear I heard her say
"What if I die alone?"
- Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, Milwaukee

*cue my epic bout of silent tears*

I mean, I guess I should define "lonely" and then really think about whether or not that's a good thing, or if we ever really feel... what's the word to describe the opposite of lonely? I don't think one really exists - that's interesting, isn't it?

Hmm, so I looked it up. Thesaurus.com lists antonyms of "lonely" as unlonely (really... unlonely??), befriended and loved... among some other examples that really don't match up. Weird.

Anyways my "lonely" is not really about not having friends or not being "loved", per say. I've been blessed with the best of those. Many amazing souls have blessed, currently bless and will continue to bless my life. Of that I have no fear. In fact, lonely doesn't exactly suit what I'm referring to. Because being alone doesn't necessarily facilitate loneliness, and being with people doesn't eliminate the possibility that you might feel that way. In fact, more often than not, I feel the most lonely surrounded by people.

I'm actually talking about not ever having a partner. An attached at the hip best friend who can look into your eyes and read your soul. Or one who's not attached at the hip, but wants to be. Someone you have to work with to learn about each other, to grow, and experience the world. Oh yeah, who you can also steal kisses from on the random occasion.

It was a difficult moment in my life when my little brother had a girlfriend before I had a boyfriend. He doesn't like to let me forget it. In fact, he considers it one of the deepest cutting insults he has in his bag of mean things little brother can say to big sister. And gosh is it painful to hear him use them. Yup. You're right. I'm not good enough. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not whatever. Just not enough. No one has ever found me worthy enough to catch their attention in that way. Whatever way that is. I wouldn't know. It's funny how easy that cyclic message is to repeat in my head... no matter how much time I spend fighting it. It's like the lyrics to an N*sync song. I'll always know it.

Tearing up my heart and soul.
We're apart I feel it too. 
And no matter what I do I feel the pain.
With or without you.

I can only hope that this is not one of those stupid chicken/egg situations. For most normal people, it's totally not. So I'm going to go on self-pitying in peace. Thank you.

Can someone explain to me how we did NOT KNOW that Lance is gay? Come on.

And Rodrigo being a complete asshole again has made me worry about how much dislike I can truly hold for one human before ruining myself. I am fully aware that he couldn't care less about how much he hurts people... he hurt and hurts me. But look at my life and how special that time was for me. How close and far I was to believing something different about myself. And he has this despicable knack for intertwining himself in my world, in reminding me. It makes me mad that I'm here, having this beautiful experience, and then he pops up. And I half expect him to. On top of it all, I have to thank him for this. How can I be in gratitude and so strongly dislike someone at the same time? Disgust, almost hatred, a disabling negative feeling that just points me to the lyrics about myself that I already know so well.

And now, my baby sister, ripe and ready, beautiful and a catch, is about to enter the dating world. She's already asked me for advice on how this strange world works. How can I tell her that the world has never deemed me good enough to be invited to enter?

Go figure.

So I've been thinking a lot about the meaning of life - super high school of me. One of the many things going on pointing me back to that time period in my life. I think I was so caught up in college that I forgot this question... that I moved past it? I don't know.

I read recently that all we (humans) have ever wanted was for our lives to mean something. I'm not sure if I believe that. I kinda want more than that in my life. But I wonder if "more" than "meaning" is just "more meaning". And what is the difference between "more meaning" and "meaning"? Isn't meaning ... kind of an esoteric, intangible idea that can't be quantified? So more it's more like a plus 1 to infinity? Or infinity x 2... but they're all the same because it's still infinity? I think what we want...what I want from life is to be different than the status quo. To feel like my "more meaning" is more important than the average "meaning". How egotistical of me. So therein lies my paradox. Secretly, I want more meaning than the average human (or not so secretly anymore). But I also have this deeply rooted fear of "loneliness" whatever that means for me. Not exactly a fear of loneliness itself, but of continuing to be so. Hmm. That's an ugly realization. My deepest desire in life contradicts perfectly with my deepest fear. No wonder I keep finding myself reading "how to be happy" books.

So I find myself comforted by the fact that I belong here. I've never so intensely belonged somewhere - or at least felt it call to me every day with the same ferocity as the day before. And nothing else should be happening in my life save for exactly what is happening in this moment. And these feelings, though unpleasant, are necessary because they push me to explore deeper, darker, brighter, uglier and more beautiful parts of myself than I have before. Uglier. And more beautiful.

It's a process.

So I revert to an old technique from high school that always helped me breathe and sleep after a difficult night.

When you're young all you want
Is a place to belong
You'll change how you look
And the way that you talk.

If I'm being honest, I'd have to admit, that sometimes it gets to me still
Like I'm back in school and I want them to like me but I know that they never will. 

I belong here. Right where I am, I know I was meant to belong here.
Right where I am, yeah I know I was meant to be here.

Well it's nobody's business but I happened to notice that some of those dreams you had died. 
You got no excuse for not building a castle when there's still a builder inside. 

You belong here. Right where you are. You know you were meant to be here. 

- Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, We Belong Here

Ven la gente como ven tu familia

Cuando ven la gente como ven tu familia...

Cuando tratan la gente como tratan tu familia...

Mágico pasa.

Puedo estar en un tren, la calle, en un camino o camión y ver alguien que me hace incomoda. Cerro mis ojos, respiro y abro los ojos a ver mi abuelo, mi hermano ahí  y el mundo cambio en un abrir y cerrar de los ojos, literalmente. El fuerte con viene compasión para este extranjero es abrumadora, como ondas que choque choque choque y rompe con la calidez sobre mi corazón con cada latido latido latido. "Oooh," digo con la calidez de reconocimiento, "Oooh, eres mi abuelo y yo se que tenias una mama, un papa, probable hermanos, y espero que a un punto en tu vida, te amaban en el mismo manero que intento amarte ahora, en nuestra interacción corte y frió."

Es algo que aprendí aquí. Que espero que sabia en Uganda.

Todavía no se que pasa próximo. Me siento que necesito ir a la India, para un año o algo así .. para aprender algo diferente de quien soy y quien podía ser y porque soy quien soy. Mi corazón está llamando mi a ir a Nueva México a visitar mi abuela, a preguntarla cosas años demasiado tarde a preguntarla. Mi cabeza está llamando a hacer algo donde gano dinero, quiero ir a la universidad para una maestría, pero en el otro lado, no me siento lista. Me gustaría hacer un año de servicio en los EEUU, pero no se. Hay mucho que no se.

En este momento, no puedo decir si quiero encender la luz o ir para agua. ¿Como sabre que quiero con mi vida?

He pensado mucho en mis temores. Tengo unos que son normales, o no son normales pero no son los que son mas peor. Y no se porque, pero son fuertes aquí. Trabajo mucho en autenticidad con mi mismo. Y para meses, he tenido un pensamiento que separa mi de mis compañeros  amigos, de todos en mi vida. Es esos temores. Creo que necesito decirlos a alguien, para con que resultado. Y como hacerlo - hola, tengo temores que prevenirme de dormir, de conectar contigo, de cosas normales... que son tus temores peores?

Oh, mientras estamos hablando de cosas incomodas, odio a alguien y aveces lo me consume. Encuentro que no puedo pensar en nada mas de este persona y cuanto quiero parar odiarlo. El problema es que este parte de muchos lados en mi vida y no se como escaparlo.

Esas dos cosas, mi temores y el odio consume, me distraigan de la vida llena.

Se dice que el perdón es el antídoto al odio. Eso necesita mucho trabajo.

En lo que respecta a mis temores, los que son mas fuertes son esos:

1) Que mi papa va a morir. Es simple, no puedo imaginar la vida sin mi papa.
2) Ponerse viejo... de mis papas, de mi mismo, de cualquiera persona... ponerse viejo y pedir la capacidad a hacer cosas que queremos en la vida... para ponerse viejo y pedir la capacidad a pensar, a cuidar de nos mismos...

Parecen simples, cosas que no puedo controlar... por eso tengo tan fuerte miedo. Sin controlar, soy loca.

Jason Mraz dice algo que me gusta mucho y trato pensar en cada dia.

"If this Life is one act, why do we lay all of these traps?
We put 'em right in our path,
when we just wanna be free.
I will not waste my days 
making up all kinds of ways 
to worry 'bout all the things 
that will not happen to me.
So I just let go
of what I know I don't know
and I only do this by
living in the moment."