The beauty of our relationships not only lie in the mistakes we make but in the way we handle the endings/beginnings. At least, I think so. When I look at them I remember why I believe so much in love and life. When I look at them I am remembering what love looks like, what love is and who love is. What pushes me and is what pushes them farther away from each other. So many parts of us wither away from the lack of understanding, the lack of compassion, the lack of foundation. I’ll always be the first to say I really don’t know much about shit, but, I do know many are living their lives as fools because holding on is always easier than letting go. Because when we let go, then what? What happens next? Is there a next? It’s the unknown that we all struggle with, all of us. But what fun is living life as a fool when you could lie your burdens down and be free? There should never be expectations when it comes to human behavior. Never. I think when it comes to teaching acceptance as a virtue, keeping in mind that fucked up shit happens, and how you move forward is your graduating ceremony. Whenever I look at them I am reminded of my favorite sci-fi movie “what dreams may come”. The movie of a man that loses his kids one day and dies the next day, only to have his wife commit suicide. But he speaks/lives through her paintings. He goes from heaven (because suicides go to hell, according to this movie) to save her from an eternity of hell but she doesn’t recognize him. It’s not until he begins to lose his mind that she begins to remember him. But it’s too late, his risked paradise to be by her side because he believed they were soulmates. In the end, he wakes up back in paradise with her next to him, he was brave enough to risk it all because he believed in their love. Do you believe in soulmates? I never did until I began to really watch them, watch them grow, watch them create and save each other over and over again. All the ways they would risk paradise for each other, I watched them become. Their eyes would light up and I’ve watched her speak life into him so many times, in so many ways. The revival of his spirit. The beauty in her being. The beginning of their love is always worth writing about. Their ending has been their best performance. With every great story, even the greatest formation of well-rounded, thorough characters things happen. Love fades and changes and regresses and hurts and sometimes love does the unthinkable. My parents are a modern day tragedy. Soulmates. Two fools living in a world without each other. Whenever I look at them I am reminded why “what’s next” should be the core of my marriage&family practice, because, what is next now that the hurts there. “What’s next” is the pillar to healing. Do we live this life alone or, should we attempt to be brave one last time and ask each other “what’s next”?
Book recommendation: Tiny beautiful things by Cheryl Strayed.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a book open me up. I feel excited to get home, pour me a glass of wine and read this book. I’m so thankful for the recommendation; it was worth the $16 that I paid yesterday at the bookstore. There’s a giddiness sitting at the core of me and I can’t get enough of this book. That’s what good writing does to you. it opens you up. It makes you feel. Keeps the pages turning and forces the mind to start working and finding new ways to express one’s self. It’s finding a new language of love amidst beige colored pages. It is a new language every time you discover a remarkable writer, a well-defined-true-to their-craft writer. I am at work counting down the hours until I can go home and sit on the couch and read. This book is giving me something to look forward to and its teaching me. A good book leaves you walking away with new wisdom. It’s a new outlook. A new perspective on the way we view the world. Tiny beautiful things. It’s wonderful what can be discovered in the palm of your hands, don’t you think?
If I’m not sad enough, it never taste as delicious. The amount of sadness equates to the amount of love I need to put into my soup. This recipe came from a Pinterest page about a year or so ago. I was working long hours at the hospital and not tending to myself. Working to live and living to work. The mundane routine of the psychotic in a plain world. My world had nothing. Sadness and desperation to make sure I was able to take care of the roof over my head. The world was much simpler than as opposed to now. Simpler in the sense I had nothing to motivate me to want more. I learned that self love comes in many forms. I had only focused on selfies at that time for validation from a world that could careless about my dire need for survival. Self love came to me in the form of a kitchen, where I learned how to nourish myself the right way. I learned how to tend to myself, my needs, my emotional needs. I was careful in the way I cleaned vegetables and chicken. Tenderness playing a key role in being mindful of the cleansing. No need to rush. Be thorough and be gentle. I paid attention to the flavors against my tongue. I learned that love is created in the kitchen. And there’s nothing better than making sure you take care of love. This recipe came out perfect the first time. Coconut milk and red curry perfection. I mean, I even accidentally added in coconut cream and that mixture of sweet and spicy became everything to my tastebuds. And I learned that sometimes when you think you messed up, you find out new ways to improve yourself and your dish. The discovery in the kitchen helped better me when I lost myself on days where gray skies were never ending. Some days I just can’t manage the sadness. I cry and cry and cry some more, never able to pinpoint where all the confusion comes from. I credit my hormones most of the time. But making this soup makes me remember to center myself and put myself first. There are so many ways we continuously forget about ourselves through work, relationships and school, the back burner becomes a comfort zone and what’s comfortable is rarely ever changed. If it works, why fix it? But time is a teacher and later the body realizes everything ain’t meant to be carried. So the soup remains as a reminder for me, to take care of myself even on days when I would rather not. When I had nothing to push me forward, I learned that in the kitchen we can create magic and find something worth savoring…
Why don’t we trust our bodies? What is so wrong in just listening for once? Listen to the way the rhythm decreases. Listen to the body and how it begs for freedom. Are you free? Do you feel free in this? I think this has been something I’ve been struggling with for a while. I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust myself enough to be ok with decisions when it comes to the matters of the heart. So I make mistakes. And I smile and drift into this facade that somehow, magically things will work themselves out. That the universe understands what’s really needed and what’s really meant for me and somehow, someway I will receive what is coming my way. But, how? If the fear is bigger than the belief, what gets accomplished? What’s the deciding factor that now is the time to move? Are you really free? Every bit of my being says no but my mind is fixated on making lemonade out of apples. Everything says no. But I continue on. And I keep fighting. I keep going as if I have something to prove. As if I am to prove my body wrong. To show that I am capable of suppressing and repressing and formatting and editing myself to fit the likes of another. To finally show that I,too, can be a soft woman of love and submit easily to a man who may not be enough for me. I can lie down and quiet myself for love. I am proving this to my body so that I can move forward with the knowledge that I am able to love monogamously. There is ability in my being to give unselfishly and diminish parts of myself for stability. For security. In the name of a progressing relationship, I am here ready to sacrifice essentials of my being for your love. For you, because I am tired of running around in circles looking for a love that probably doesn’t exist. A love where compatibility and stability coexist as a unification of a passionately intense loving relationship. And I say all that to say…. I’m not even happy. And I have to wonder, why am I even fighting myself?
I just love writing. I love to write about love making. I love to write about love. Struggles. Faith. Patience. Relationships. Affairs. Lovers. The rise and the fall of life and love. There’s so much to learn through words. Through experiences. I write to live. I write to love. I write for passion and romance. I write for him. I write for me. I write to always remember. I write to never forget. I write to document. I write to feel. I write to hurt. I just write. I just love writing. It’s everything to me. It’s an escape. It’s a fantasy. It’s realities. It’s a life outside of my own but it’s still mine. I write to make you feel. I hope I make you feel. Something. Anything. I write to reach. I write teach. I’m a writer. And I am so in love with the art of words.
I like to live my life with themes. It kind of gives a certain flavor to my life. It sets the mood: mentally and spiritually. It gives like direction. Allows for creativity to transpire in ways to own this theme. Encouraging and pulling forward motivation for my life, themes are fun, at least for me. This year the theme, a theme my best friend and I came to, is do what you want 2017. A few years shy of 30 and it’s only the month of April, this year has been a little more than do what you want. The concept is the same but there’s been so much more to this year. I am going to be 28 in a few months and literally two weeks ago I legit became an adult. Within the last two weeks or so I have had the most awakening-coming-to-terms that I am an actual adult experience. I mean honestly, I am not the most responsible person. I can prioritize and take care of the essentials, maybe I can work a budget and make an outline for an itinerary, throw fabulous Pinterest party but that might be it? My goodness, I learned last week about the importance of rotating my tires. It sounds like that should be common sense, like a second nature in maintaining a car. I do the routine oil changes and if they recommend brakes or something, I’ll get it done. Last weekend I had to get a crash course in rotors, resurfacing them, calipers and brake pads. This weekend I did my taxes and guess what I did impeccably well? I forgot to do some very important shit.. I owe about a grand. So now a phone call needs to be made come Monday to get something sorted out. It’s just that it’s only April. In February I had my first anxiety attack, in another country, alone. March, I almost bled out from a damn low dose of birth control, after telling my gyno I didn’t want to be on birth control I just wanted to not be so damn fertile because I’m Latina and my man is Haitian. Together we can make an entire village. So yea, maybe the year’s theme is just a tad bit incomplete when appealing to my life. Yes, do what you want 2017 but for Xandria, do what you want but make sure it’s within reason.
The moment his words covered me gently, I felt flowers blossom on the tip of my tongue and my heart opened. The tenderness of his words grabbed parts of me the light never saw and the sensation of him swallowed me whole. The first time is always the sweetest but will not withstand without action. Comforting that thought with an energy incomparable to any description I offer is why I pray the sun rises just see his smile. My prayers run deep for a man who’s offered me a beautiful friendship that I will nurture and tend to every flower we plant along this wall of distance we are facing currently. Days need to be soft and thoughts remain clear because what the heart wants should never be denied. I will be here to mend broken hearts. See, I made an exchange with the most high I gave myself to him in return that He touch the lives of those around me. So it’s ok. I pray to one day fall in love with you and keep you happy for you have given me something only my love in return would be a token of my gratitude. It’s a beautiful thing when you meet a man and he offers you sincerity instead of commercial fabricated notations of a love he doesn’t even believe in. I pray you find happiness in my words as I have find strength in yours. You have a beautiful soul.
Written: April 25,2014