Bittersweet
February, this year your face is melancholic. It carries a hint of fear and sadness. It’s uncertain and chaotic.
But it is also eager, kind and welcoming, and has a taste of euphoria. It is also strong and determined.
Don’t forget that.
Unaware.
There is a certain awe to the silence. As I get lost inside its unheard echo, I become aware of all that surrounds me. I don’t always notice it. Sometimes I get lost in silence for hours before I am made aware that there’s nothing here. There is not a soul in the house, I don’t make a sound. When there is a sound, it is that one of a quiet melody. One that speaks to my most secret self. I become lost, in a trance, in peace. My thoughts scatter, but there’s no urge of this feeling ever ending. And then, as if the feeling of solitude was not a reward, I am encountered with an inexplicable amount of contentment. I think; in this moment, everything is perfect. I don’t know fear, I don’t know sadness; I am a foreigner to pain. I know contentment, I know peace; wholeness. A mysterious satisfaction, hidden in all that is and isn’t. There is no tomorrow here. There is no yesterday. There is now, AND ONLY now; and in realizing this, I am able to focus on an aspect of my life I can always control. An aspect of my life that I can always change; the now. Everything else that was, that will be, it does not exist today- not in this moment. And so, everything becomes limited. The physical world, the space. It is limited to the ONE place you find yourself inside. But we are NOT this space; we are our minds. And so, even in this confined space, limitations can cease to exist- as long as we have the strength, courage, and longing to change the one space ONLY we’re responsible for changing. The space that is both infinitely smaller and infinitely bigger than our physical world; our minds. And so, as I give in to the silence and the solitude. I forget about the space. The tangible. The physical world… and my mind becomes everything.
Esa solitud.
We are told that the pursuit of happiness is a short journey if we learn to appreciate what we have…
Have you ever looked at someone who seemed to have far less than you have, and looked a million times happier? I have.
I began to read a book entitled “A simple guide to Zen Buddhism.” In this book, I read about Buddhism and its central teachings, The Four Noble Truths. These are the teachings of the Buddha after experiencing enlightment. One of these truths is the truth of suffering; which is fully recognizing suffering in its various forms, in our life and the life of others. The second truth, is the origin of suffering. The suffering we experience comes from within ourselves, the longing, wanting, and wishfulness for something different; something we do not have. It is different than physical pain, it is pain of the heart, the mind. He noted that we may sometimes have physical pain and yet we remain happy, or we may have no physical pain and suffer pain within the heart and mind. The way that we cease the pain that such suffering brings is by experiencing this moment to its fullest. Sometimes, we suffer because we fail to realize that sadness, dissatisfaction, disappointment, etc. is a part of life. I think, sometimes perhaps more than not, we focus more in the anguish and the sadness. Maybe we experience it more passionately, unaware. We always seek to find happiness, and many times we do find it. But happiness ,much like pain, is temporary and until we come to realize this -then we will be on our way to finding true happiness.
Happiness is living in such a way that you do not cause harm to others, or yourself. In staying in touch with this experiences of the “timeless” instead of living in an anxious world of hopes and fears…
Much like a quote I read once, “No mires hacia atras con ira, ni hacia delante con miedo, mejor mira hacia tu alrededor con atencion.” – Do not look back in anger, nor forward with fear, instead look around you with attention…
These are the thoughts that overtook my mind early morning,when most were sleeping. I found myself sitting in the center of a living room, after having tossed and turned for some time I finally gave in. As I got up an unforgiving feeling of ambivalence took control. As if a switch had been flipped on, memories that lurked in the darkest part of my mind submerged. Feelings, weakness; they took over as my mind betrayed me. In a weak attempt to clear out the noise, I tried to shush my thoughts. I reminded myself that having been broken or failing at something does not mean irreparable or beyond repair. What more can I wish for than to have the satisfaction of knowing I tried the best I could at something? As I once read, to be broken is not a bad thing, it means you have tried for something. Still, here again was the feeling of longing for something that I have discarded as something necessary in my life; a companion. The conflict of feelings emerged from the wanting to have someone listen, not like a friend or a family member, but as a partner; as my missing half. The part of me thats missing, the missing piece to my puzzle. And then, there was the other feeling, the one of my obsession with freedom, with exploration with solitude; the conflict in desire for love and understanding accompanied by the fear of the unknown -the change the letting go of freedom, of myself…
Knowing well where this had lead before, I opted for meditation, the one which never fails to save me. There is something that is eerie and eternal about meditating. It brings me clarity renewal; solitude. My mind is cleared of doubt, even if for just that moment, I am able to regain lost field, to think clearly. And I am reminded why I chose the path I chose. I think of solitude, and I think of peace, clarity. As selfish as it may sound, being alone, brings me a sort of warmth that is hard to explain. I do no question it, the silence is almost like a sort of rhythm that matches my heart. It is my sort of company. In meditation, everything ceases to exist. The thing about meditating, or as I say “blocking out the noise”, is that you hear nothing but yourself. No one else, you don’t become lost in the voices of others, in the sight of others, it is you and only you. While I believe that love is beautiful, and the savior of many, it can be expressed and lived in many forms. And I think that experiencing the love of a partner is not for everyone. You have to find that which suits you best. Some people are better with someone and ,dare I say it, some are better alone. I want to fall in love with life, experiences, sights; with everything… with absolutely everything.
After meditating, I had this urge to walk, to feel the world around me, and so, with the moonlight as my companion I took into the almost darkness of the night. I felt it sweep me off my feet, and I was content. I think when I give in to the thought of longing for someone, I become confused. As Buddhism notes, we bring suffering to ourselves by longing for that which we do not have. And it is when I begin to listen to the ideas of having someone that I become confused and wish for that “missing piece.” I think, If I ever gave in and finally allowed someone in, when I change my mind, I would have used that person as a scratching post for my emotions. That’s not how it is supposed to work. What is wrong, I wonder, with wanting to live alone? It has almost become a sort of taboo to even speak of such… I think it is better to live in solitude then to use someone as an escape from fear of living alone. Instead of waiting for someone or some feeling to save me, I decided to save myself. And so, I conclude then that, like I once read; “We deserve to be alone, rather than staying together, only because we are afraid we’d be destroyed if we don’t…”
Eso que es temporario.
I think that sometimes, no matter how badly we want to erase scars: we just can’t. They become a part of us, a part of our life; engraved in our hearts, our minds. Scars we created ourselves; created by others. Scars… parts and pieces of our lives which once belonged to us, no longer ours. And then, there’s the “healing” or the process of forgetting they’re there- pretending they’re not ours- being strong, some may say. But is it? Is it being strong? I think not. I find myself searching for a cure in all of the wrong places, seeking refugee in all of that which will give me shelter only temporarily. Afraid to look in the right places because of the things that I may find; Things I may not want to hear. Things I may not want to feel. Things I may not want to see; to accept… And in my heart i’ll carry these things, to many known as denial. To many my refugee may be nothing more than cardboard shelter, one that may eventually collapse, leaving me lifeless. Leaving me in the obscurity of my own selfish needs. In the betrayal of my mind, which only seeks to find comfort in that which is temporary.
August of 2014, stories from Mexico.
These kids walk 5.5 km to get to school everyday.
Coming to Mexico really shakes me awake.
Sometimes I forget that not too long ago, I too, was a little girl in line waiting for a notebook and pencil.
Having a conversation with grandma I ask what she will do once her parties term is over next year.
Will she run for something different? Will she stay home, continue growing crops?
“I don’t know,” she says. “I think that if I were to stay home I would go crazy doing nothing. I don’t do good staying indoors.” I nod and she continues, “You know the day you guys left, it left a big void. The first time we went to your house after you all left, well you know your granpa, he never cries. But that day, walking in and feeling an empty house, looking at your toys- the man could not even breathe. ‘Let’s go’ he said, ‘I can’t be in here.’ We got out of there pretty quick.”
On our way to the house to my grandfather and grandmother “So, how did you fall in love with each other?” Grand pop smirks, “She fell in love with me.”
At night around the table, my grandma is telling my uncle (who is a taxi driver) “in a sort of low key fashion, can just point out the good things the party has done? To the people whom you trust, it would be a good thing. My uncle laughing replies, “Mom, there is one rule in my business- never discuss futbol, religion, or politics.”
Amar de Lejos
Siento conocerte como si fueras mi propio cuerpo.
Aún cuando tú me desconoces aún cuando no me ves.
Y absolutamente nada concluye.
Absolutamente nada es sentido común, pero me siento un poco viva, más que antes.
Al sentir algo ya si sea malo o bueno, con tan sólo sentir es suficiente.
Simultáneamente me siento completamente indefensa contra ti y como segura.
Y Por eso no puedo lograr que me disgustes.
Porque me hace sentir bonito sin querer.
Es sentirme llena y vacía es sentir los dos fines de el mundo; en lo más oscuro y en la primera luz.
Libre y atada.
Y sabes, a veces no soy buena al controlar las emociones que son tan distintas
No estoy acostumbrada, intento simplificarlo pero se me complica más
Igual y cosas como estas no pueden ser simplificadas y por eso es que el miedo se me clava en cada hueso todo mi ser se vuelve duda e intenta huir
Intenta negar que exististe emoción en alguna parte de este cuerpo.
Así amo yo, de lejos, así quiero- así yo mismo me sofoco.
Me quedo en la sombra, donde el sol no toca, porque la solitud es simple y el abandono dura eternidades.
Que sera…
Que será si aveces siento que aun tengo todo por decirte.
Qué será que justo cuando estoy apunto de olvidarte te recuerdo.
Qué será que el minuto exacto que dejo de extrañarte, me vienes a la mente y me sofoco.
Qué será, entonces, que cuando te miro te recuerdo de otra manera. Con ojos abiertos manos temblorosas y mente perdida, no logro encontrarte, no en ese cuerpo. Es cuando entiendo, que para empezar a conocerte, tengo que empezar con cerrar los ojos.
Artículo publicado el domingo, 14 de Abril de 2013 en ElPeriódico.com.
“Cuando sepas de mí, tú disimula. No les cuentes que me conociste, ni que estuvimos juntos, no les expliques lo que yo fui para ti, ni lo que habríamos sido de no ser por los dos. Primero, porque jamás te creerían. Pensarán que exageras, que se te fue la mano con la medicación, que nada ni nadie pudo haber sido tan verdad ni tan cierto. Te tomarán por loca, se reirán de tu pena y te empujarán a seguir, que es la forma que tienen los demás de hacernos olvidar.
Cuando sepas de mí, tú calla y sonríe, jamás preguntes qué tal. Si me fue mal, ya se ocuparán de que te llegue. Y con todo lujo de detalles. Ya verás. Poco a poco, irán naufragando restos de mi historia contra la orilla de tu nueva vida, pedazos de…
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