All posts tagged: change

All You Have To Do

All you have to do is be present, right here, right now, in this moment. Allow yourself to be here, right now. Allow yourself to love all of it: California, San Francisco, the park, the bridge, the weather, the weirdness, the people, the thought of staying put, your current circumstances… All of it. You don’t have to go anywhere. You don’t have to run. There’s no need for you to pick up and go. Drown the feeling of suffocation; it’s not real. The walls aren’t closing in on you; there’s enough room in this city for your life and everyone else’s. Memories are created with people in specific places. Sometimes revisiting these places hurts, yes, but you can move past the associations. You can create new memories. Go back to each location and make it your own. Call back your power to you; call it back from those who have proven themselves unworthy to receive it and nurture it. All you have to do is be here, right now, in this moment. Nowhere else. You …

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 …

Choosing Not To Choose

Choices. I wrote this word down after a conversation I had at Glide, the place where a few of us volunteer once a week to help serve breakfast to the homeless in the Tenderloin neighborhood in San Francisco. We were wondering if there was any way to simplify the process of serving food so that it would be easier both for the staff, as well as for the clients. While casually brainstorming ideas, Brando, the manager of the Free Daily Meals Program, made an interesting comment: those that come to Glide don’t have the privilege of making choices throughout their day. They go about their lives depending on the goodwill of others. “Most of the time, they don’t even get to choose where they go to the bathroom,” he said, and it’s true. A lot of us can walk into a Starbucks to use the restroom, but if any of the people that go to Glide try to do the same, they will be rejected 95% of the time solely based on appearance. This obviously …

Because I’m…

“How are you?” a friend asked. For the first time in a while, I paused to think about my response. This has become such an easy question to answer with a quick and lazy “Good, you?” that stopping myself from vomiting that phrase was a hard task, harder than it should have been. This time, though, I pushed myself to think before responding because I wanted to get an accurate reading of how I felt. Without being fully aware of it, I was craving to get back in touch with myself, similar to the times I realize, almost all of a sudden, that I haven’t taken a long, deep breath all day and I force myself into it. It was a much-needed, please-just-take-one-second-for-yourself, break. Finally, I replied with an answer so honest that it even surprised me: “I’m… HAPPY!” It came complete with a wide, satisfied smile. How are you doing? Are you happy? Why or why not? What needs to change? While I welcome your answers, I don’t need them; you do. They’re for …

Tonight, I Cried

“Don’t be bothered by the noise. Go sit and be silent,” I read this evening, and it made me pause for a moment. Be silent, the phrase urged. Don’t mind the noise, it said. I lost count of how many times I repeated it over and over in my mind, until I finally admitted to myself that I couldn’t do it. No, that’s wrong. It’s not that I can’t. It’s that I don’t want to. I choose not to, in the same way that I’ve chosen not to do it so many times in the past. But why? There’s no way around this one; it’s plain and simple: I. Am. Scared. Of. My. Thoughts. I’m scared of my thoughts. Me dan miedo mis pensamientos. Two languages, one concept. I don’t want to go sit and be silent. I don’t want to unearth all I’ve been hiding. I don’t want to face the part of me that has been tamed. I don’t want to deal with all of the pent up emotions cowering behind my smile. …

I Dare You To Call Me Skinny One More Time

I blame us –all of us- for the media’s sickening manipulation of women’s photographs. We find comfort in blaming society for most of our problems, yet we have an uncanny ability to forget that we are society. Each and every one of us plays a role, which means it’s up to us to change it. Individually, it’s a hard battle; I get it. However, true change does begin when you and I, as individuals, decide to make a change for ourselves, no matter how small. Being called “fat” has never been a problem for me; quite the opposite: I’m called “skinny” way too many times for my liking. Seriously, call me skinny one more time and see how I react; I will not be held responsible, since I’m warning you ahead of time. Some would consider this a “happy problem” to have, especially with the growing obesity rate in this country. However, I must insist on putting my foot down with this topic, because it’s too important not to. Ready? I don’t care if you’re …

November, You’ve Been At It Again

November, my dear, you never fail me. Each year, you arrive jam-packed with comfort-zone-busting, rip-you-apart-at-the-seams-because-why-not type of change. Before, your arrival meant simply that I could use a new haircut, and that would suffice to make me feel almost born again. Nowadays, you seem to get a thrill out of turning my life upside down. I kind of hate you, but I love you. You keep me on my toes. You make me feel pain, you make me suffer, yet through it all, you remind me that I’m alive. And, as long as the latter is true, I will have to keep adapting to these 180 degree-angle turns. We all will. It’s in the ebs and flows that most of our life happens, anyway. Joseph Campbell famously said that “you must give up the life you’ve planned, in order to have the life that is waiting for you,” and I can’t help but pay attention each time I read that line. So, what’s stopping me from surrendering to the mighty whims of this earthly roller …

Then, As Now

Syria has been on my mind these days, somewhat of an unavoidable topic, since I have been consistently bombarded by every possible news outlet in existence, as well as my Twitter newsfeed (a beast in and of itself), with the atrocities being committed there. Truthfully, I have no idea how this conflict started, or when, or why it has escalated lately.  As a former journalist, I accept that I fail here. All I’ve picked up on this side of the pond are cries of “chemical weapons” and “let’s go to war.” Sounds all too familiar. It still amazes me, to this day, that humans have such an uncanny ability to forget the lessons of the past, as if thousands of years of brutality against others hadn’t taught us anything. One of the most poignant moments of my career as a journalist was the night I completely broke down in tears to my boyfriend of the time, practically yelling at him – the poor thing!—because of how upset I was. All I did at the online newspaper …