All posts filed under: Life

The Weight Of Words

“When we do things with love, even if we believe we have failed, something good can always come out of it, something good can be made from it, because the initial substance with which we started is the purest of them all: love. Such a tiny, all-encompassing word that we can feel better than we can explain. Good things in their purest form take time, effort, dedication, and perseverance. It’s never easy, but it’s always worth it. Fight. Fight fiercely and humbly for everything you believe in. As long as your motivation is sincere love, you will never truly fail. Everything in life is permeated by the very real magic of love. Choose to see things, people, and situations through that lens and your path will always unfold before you. We can never truly measure the impact we have on others, but as long as love is our motivation, we will leave the Earth a better place than how we found it.” I wrote the words above in a letter to my sister the morning …

The Mustard Seed Within

We dream things. We dream them big and small. We even dare to dream dreams undreamt of before. Many of us turn these dreams into reality against all odds. We fight for them; we adapt for them; we change for them; we move mountains for them. We find a great and wondrous strength within us that allows us to chase after them and breathe them into being. But often, our dreams begin to frighten us to inaction. We convince ourselves that we’re not good enough and, therefore, that they’re unachievable. We believe we don’t deserve to bring them to fruition. We see the work that lies ahead, the obstacles and overly beaten paths we must endure and cross, and we shy away into complacency; we wither in our comfort zones. When does this happen? And why? How does a confident and persistent person go from running head first into every adventure ready to fly, to thinking that it’d be best to lay back and watch life happen before her eyes because everything she wishes for …

Did I Really Just Meet The Real-Life Carrie From “Sex and the City”?

…Yes, yes I did. I’m not kidding. If Carrie hadn’t married Big and wasn’t living in a multi-million dollar New York City apartment, she would be living in San Francisco, have a boyfriend, and would be running her own successful business helping companies craft their stories through creative writing. And she would be THE BOMB. Real-life Carrie worked as a journalist for 15 years, both in newspapers and in magazines; at one time, she was the editor of Elle. Like most women that have lived in NYC, she can rattle off crazy dating stories like it’s her job, and she’s quick to smile and laugh, just like fictional Carrie. They share a subtle similarity in voice tone, and they are both tiny, fit and, simply put, badass. Real-life Carrie has been in San Francisco for 7 years after pausing her career to get an MBA with a focus on sustainability. As a journalist, she discovered she didn’t like the objective gap needed when interviewing others; instead, she wanted to side with the people she met, feel …

Success As Seen Through Your Eyes

I had another blog post in mind for this week, but I’ve decided to detour. The reason: there are two very important people in my life that are graduating this year, one from high school and one from college, and I feel the need to dedicate a few words to both of them. It’s always been interesting for me to observe the differences between how we see ourselves versus how others see us. Both of the ladies for which I’m writing this post have told me, on numerous occasions, that they admire and look up to me, mostly due to my successes thus far in life. However, it came as a shock to me that they would say this since, until a few months ago, I didn’t consider myself to be successful. So, being the way I am, I had to analyze this discrepancy. What were they seeing that I was missing? Once I got down to it, I realized I had contracted the syndrome of measuring success based on the amount of money I …

A Sincere Apology

As you take the time to decide what you would like to write about in your future contribution to my blog, I sit down to draft this very public, yet heartfelt, apology. It’s been a long time coming. You see, everything you’ve been through this year, but especially the bad, can be smoothly traced back to one very specific moment, during which I took the leading role. And although you and I both believe that everything happens for a reason, and that no adversity is ever wasted if we learn and grow from it, I still can’t seem to shake the guilt, try as I might. I’ve talked about it, I’ve cried about it, I’ve prayed about it, I’ve sought advice on it, but at the end of the day, this one tiny little truth remains: I was the one that handed you that drink. … I actually had to pause to re-read that last line. The image replays over and over in my mind and I curse myself for it each and every time. …

The Inspiration I Needed

What was that they taught us when we were little? Never, ever, ever give up? Something like that. Except back then, life seemed pretty easy. I sometimes wonder if it still is, and it’s just us that make it complicated, with our crazy notions about what should and shouldn’t be. Here’s another little tidbit of childhood wisdom: rules are made to be broken; it’s more fun that way. And if you don’t take the risk –that one risk that could change everything for the better-, you will never know if it actually could have. For me, not knowing is worse than failing and having to get back up again. It’s been a while since I’ve felt inspired to fight for something I desperately wanted, but I’m pretty fired up right now. People unknowingly keep adding fuel to the flame. Every time I stop to think about how difficult it might be, or I start slipping into that loathsome self-pity, I do my best to slap myself out of it. There’s simply too much real suffering …

“Action is eloquence”

An Argentine woman scolded me for mentioning that I am not a fan of the Argentine president. Mind you, I lived in Buenos Aires long enough to understand the delicate and insanely complicated social, political, and economic intricacies of the third-world country –which I absolutely adore-, so my comment wasn’t out of place. Truth be told, it was a bit more in line than hers, since she’s been out of the country for 23 years; however, it was something else she said that struck a nerve: “Yes, the President is corrupt. So? What’s new? That’s how it’s always been and how it always will be.” (Note: I’m paraphrasing the latter part, but that basically summarizes the rest of the conversation we had.) This type of mentality severely irritates me. It is very common for Latin Americans to think this way; after all, most of them have grown up with corruption for generations. Even my family considers it the norm, but for myself personally, having lived both in Argentina and the US, where the federal government …

Happiness

It really is the small things in life, like having a big, well deserved breakfast after a three-mile run in Central Park, or reminding yourself during said run that the only thing that matters is the step you are about to take, and not the final destination. At times, you can see the finish line, but at others, due to twists and turns, you just have to enjoy the scenery and trust that you will make it if you keep pushing on. It is like having no plans during a long weekend and letting life surprise you. It is like getting home after walking all day and finding out that the very loud, yet beautiful classical music flowing through the air is actually a free concert given by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. And so, you lay on the soft grass in the courtyard of a magnificent cathedral, allowing yourself to simply float off… It is like being aware of how blessed you are, of how much you are surrounded by love, of how much …

A Letter To My Hero

Dear Zach, As Justin said, “it’s not because you’re dying, it’s because of how you’re living.” In your 18 years on this Earth, you absolutely succeeded at life. You found a way to be truly human, both spiritual and physical at the same time. You understood that Love trumps all, and that our mission in life, which many of us spend hours, days, and even years searching for, is actually quite simple: help others to be happy. You discovered it; you achieved it. What a tremendous accomplishment! I am in awe of your humanity. I am in awe of your beautiful heart. I am in awe of your amazing soul. I am in awe of your tremendous courage to fight through it all with a huge smile on your face, even in moments of tears. I am in awe of your ability to live on in the lives of those around you, even after death. But more importantly, I am in awe of how you have touched me and so many others without ever physically …

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Home. This seems to have been the theme all weekend. And so, I am faced with the necessary questions: how does one define the word “home”? What does it mean to me versus other people? Does the definition remain constant with time, or does it mold to allow new circumstances? Let me only speak for myself, as I have thought long and hard about this for many years (being a nomad will do that to you). For me, home is where the heart is. No, really. Whenever I walk into my parent’s house, no matter where in the world they are, I feel at home. The warmth of their love, knowing that I am always welcome, that they will always care for me and receive me with open arms, this is where I find peace and where I can rest. I love going back there, even if just for a day or two. I can be a child again, no “real world” nonsense to deal with. Yet, I don’t live there permanently. I choose to …