Unbroken Dreams

Dreams don’t break.

They grow and change – as you do
They wrap themselves in a cocoon
Of trial and error

And emerge with wings

They can fly and they can crash
You’re the wind that supports their rise
You’re the flame that ignites their fire

Dreams work with you and against you
They are the gloves that take the punch
And you’re the fighter that doesn’t drop your fists

Dreams are the views from the top
The tingling sensation when you look down from new heights

They are
An existence outside of this time and this place
A momentary glimpse of perfection
That feels whole even with cracks

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Without The Weight of Gravity

I want the dream I don’t believe in
The fairytale without an ending
The truth in the face of a lie
To know the answers without the questions

I want to know why bad things happen to good people
The reason everyone wants what they don’t have

The amount of times it takes to try and fail
And try and fail
And try again
Before you succeed

When it’s right to quit
And when it’s better to continue

I want to know how to right the wrongs
Undo the pain
Kiss the wounds and sew the scars of
Those who feel weak

To glue the world back together again
like the globe I had on my desk back
when I was a kid
when it all spun in unison
from America to Africa
all the way down to Australia

I want to soar like a bird with long wings
Touch my toes in the water and come out for a breath of fresh air
Like a fish hopping out of water
Just to see how it feels on the other side

To embrace the freedom of childlike spirit
The unknowing
To clasp it between my palms
Like the first flower that blooms in the springtime

Opening into a world of newness

without the
weight
of
gravity

To breathe into
Now
Because it’s everything I have
And only that which I
Know

Fall Forward

It’s the first day of fall. It’s my favorite season, and I’m back in Los Angeles. From the months abroad, if I had to pick one word to define how I’ve returned, I’d choose “liberated.” Liberated from material things, liberated from the desire to have anything new, liberated from the suffocation of self-inflicting anxiety, liberated from wanting to be somewhere I’m not, in terms of a job/career or any general “to do” from life.

I can’t count the physical miles I’ve traveled, nor can I guess the hours of podcasts I’ve listened to, conversations I’ve had, people I’ve met, and pages of books I’ve read. But, what I can count on is the positive change I immensely feel. While it too cannot be quantified, it’s of incomparable quality, and I’m continuing with the conviction to make sure that it multiplies. My hope is that everyone gets to experience what this kind of growth feels like, whether they accomplish it through travel or writing, singing, dancing, painting, or whatever else brings them the joy, flow and time for self-recognition and reflection. It’s a never-ending process and with each day, there is new opportunity for self-discovery. Any obstacle can be an opportunity. I’m aware of my thoughts and stop the negative train in motion when I notice it blowing through my mind at full speed. I come back to the breath and realize it’s all we have. What we do here and now will affect what comes next, but as long as we listen and stay true to the moment, we can handle what’s to come.

As the seasons change, the trees will inevitably shed their green shells from the summer’s sun. Like nature, we as humans go through cycles. Unlike nature, we have distractions that can keep us from embracing the change and processes we are supposed to take for our cycles of growth and rebirth. Let the trees and flowers around you be a reminder to care for yourself and take the time to shed the dead leaves that can no longer serve you. And then, grow again.

 

Love Does.

“I used to be afraid of failing at something that really mattered to me, but now I’m more afraid of succeeding at things that don’t matter.” – Bob Goff

If you haven’t heard of the book “Love Does,” here you go. Yesterday, I was sitting in a friend’s loft hanging out under her stairs, and I noticed a pile of three books. All looked intriguing, but this one stood as I was drawn to the title. When it comes to books, if I’m not captivated within the first few pages, I likely won’t finish it, so I don’t begin (tough critic, I know – especially for someone with ambitions to write a novel one day).

But, my intuition was right. I read the first line of this book and was immediately hooked. I actually could not put it down and finished it in 1.5 sittings (given I had to sleep). It’s one of those books that you cannot wait to read, but you also never want it to end. Each chapter represents a story from Bob Goff’s life, from the seemingly mundane to the extraordinary, like becoming the counsel for Uganda even though he thought the whole ordeal was his friend playing a practical joke on him. Each story has a message and lesson that resonate universally. Throughout the pages that I couldn’t turn fast enough, I laughed out loud and teared up, ending on the last page with wet eyes. Like people, I think books come into our lives for reasons and if we are lucky, at just the right time.

Despite some of the religious undertones throughout the book, the gist will mean something different to everyone, regardless of your belief system. For me, at this stage of life, it really illuminated the fact that when you do what you love and shed light unto the world, the possibilities and opportunities continue to open and multiply. Here’s the thing, this past week of doing seemingly “nothing” in Costa Rica have probably been the most life-changing and eye-opening as the time has been introspective. And, it’s been introspective with a purpose – the purpose to find what really calls to my heart and soul so that I can create actions that bring this love to my life and others. Small things become the big things when you have the time and energy to notice them.

I could go on and on about all the moments that have become strung together, like a fragments of glass creating a new lens to see, feel and understand the world.

Suffice it to say that the quote above really hit me hard. Growing up, with both school and jobs, I’ve been the hardest on myself. For example, in both high school and university, if I were to get an A-, I wanted to add an extra line to turn that into an A+. When it came to work, I never knew how to leave it at the desk when I went home (or shut down when I worked from home, because I never did shut down). That’s something that seems oddly unique to America. We talk about “work/life” balance, when it shouldn’t be balanced. There’s the cliche “if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life” But, sometimes we work jobs that actually don’t matter to us personally because we use them as a means to make ends meet [or to buy things we don’t need], yet they consume us. If you’re lucky enough to love what you do because you do what you love, then that is and should be your life – there’s nothing to balance.

It’s all a case by case basis, definitely not a one size fits all mentality that every person with a job should feel forced to subscribe to. That’s why I’ve decided that whatever I do next will be something I love and care about deeply, so that no matter if I’m “taking it home,” it’s because I want to, not because I feel like I have to be available around the clock to build someone else’s dream.

Read this slowly:

The small things (that we should notice and that do really matter) can become the big things (that do really matter) or  the small things (that don’t matter) can become the big things (that don’t matter) – just depends on what we give focus to and our perspective.

Measures of success growing up were written in stone by outside factors, but as you grow up and away from the constraints and definitions that institutions create, you realize how much they really do not matter. You begin defining what matters for yourself and if you follow that path that brings you joy and, in turn, lights the way for others to learn, grow and prosper, then, success is everywhere. Failure is something most people fear, but like failure, fear is not real.

When I return home, I’m going to have a day job that aligns with causes I care about and that way, there will be no way to succeed at things that don’t matter because everything I do will be set with an intention that really does matter. And, it’s not just about my job – it’ll be everything from the mundane to the extraordinary, because that’s what allows us to live fully, and that’s what love does.

Sand, Se(e) and Shorelines

People say the world is small, and that’s an expression to showcase how the seemingly coincidental moments occur. When you really think about it, the world is large, vast and in a way, can be considered infinite. Often when I’m at the beach, I think about all the grains of sand and how there is no way to walk over every piece of sand. And, that’s just one beach. What about the rest of the world? It’s impossible to traverse every inch of ground around the planet, let alone your own city.

We get so caught up in what we are doing in the place we are doing it, without every thinking about what’s happening all over the world. We make our worlds small because it helps to categorize life in buckets of things to do, people to see, new places to try, etc. etc. But, it also adds to the anxiety of making every small decision seem like it’s bigger than it really is. When we live inside these bubbles, everything we do on the daily is magnified, but when you consider the fact that people are living their lives in all different ways a mile, 10,000 miles, and 100,000 miles away, you realize that the world is large, and you are small. While you’re overthinking about the choice of the moment, the world is still turning and no matter what you decide, life will still happen.

It’s like looking up at the stars on a cloudless night or standing on top of a mountain and looking out at the view. It all gives a really good sense of perspective to know that both the good and the bad are small blimps in the timeline of your life. While you need to appreciate each moment and each day as they come, it’s okay to also realize that if it won’t matter in 5 years, it likely also won’t matter in 5 minutes, and you can stop dwelling on the tiny things that cause unnecessary overthinking. The funny thing is people always look to others for advice, from the mundane like “should I wear this shirt or that one?/”what coffee should I order?” to the more dramatic “should I quit my job?/should I move to this city?” when they really know what they want. That’s why so often, when we ask a question and someone gives the answer, we still end up doing the opposite – it just takes the courage to listen and accept what you already know to be your own truth.

I’m making an effort to consider choices like I do a grain of sand – they are infinite, both small and large, and like the waves that come and go to create new grains of sand, I don’t always (and more often don’t at all) control the decisions that will follow after I decide. But, when all is said and done, we still traverse the shoreline of our lives and have the power to sink or swim.

 

Perro Descendente

Last night, I went to a yoga class like never before.

I had zero expectations and was ready to do my downward dogs and chaturangas for the following 60 minutes. Classic of me – I was the first to arrive, even before the studio doors were open (because for me, early is on time and on time is late…except when you’re in Costa Rica and on time is obviously early).

The entire space was solely the room used for the practice, as opposed to having a lounge, shop, locker room, and various rooms like most places in Los Angeles do. There was so much beauty in the space’s simplicity. Form, only for function.

When you open the glass door to enter the studio, you immediately ascend a few stairs and then, there you are, on the wooden floor. Glass windows and doors surround the square floor as trees fill the views. To the left, there’s a sliding door the length of the room that opens to a small deck covered in trees.

This was the first time I was doing yoga in a dim lit room, to the sound of music and pouring rain, and, of course (a small element I had forgotten) in Spanish. The teacher, from the Netherlands, looked at me before beginning class and asked, “Class in Spanish ok?” Who am I to say no?  We are in Costa Rica, plus it’d be good for me to brush up on how to say body parts like chest (pecho), shoulders (hombros) and hips (calderas) in Español.

Midway through the class, the torrential downpour began. That’s how it is here – clear skies and then instantly a storm. It was the most peaceful and beautiful experience. The room would get flashes of brightness from the lightening and as we held each pose, I could focus on the sound of the raindrops, which like the sweat beads dripping down my face, flowed freely.

At the end of class, we ended in the pose that most yoga classes do – shavasana, or “corpse pose”(in Sanskrit, “Shava” means corpse and “Asana” means pose/seat). It’s a balance between relaxation and meditation, where you steady your mind and body completely as you lie in supine position. After the hour of poses, it’s a much appreciated position, and often times for me, the place where I really feel the benefits of the practice and completely mentally succumb. I also appreciate the fact that it is completely different each time.

I was so deeply into it that when the yoga teacher came over and unexpectedly touched my legs, I literally jumped. She did something no teacher has done during this pose. Taking my legs into her arms, she swung them back and forth like the motion of a hammock, then shook them up and down and quickly massaged each foot before laying it back on the floor. Immediately as my legs touched the ground, I could feel the blood rushing upwards, against the flow that comes so naturally with gravity, and felt the sensation moving towards my heart and head. It was magical. I then fell even deeper into the relaxation, so much so that it actually felt like my body was sinking into the floor. With the clapping sound of the rainfall, I imagined myself becoming a puddle of water, and felt almost disconnected from my own body, while still feeling it immensely from the inside out.

Needless to say, from the Spanish instructions (which admittedly made me feel anxious at first) to the nightfall, incense, music, dim lighting, storm outside and entire set up, the class was a magnificent way to end an otherwise mundane day.

 

Nomadic Inhabitant

It’s times like these when surroundings weigh heavy on the questions of meaning.

By definition, inhabit means to live or occupy (a place or environment). Right now, I’m inhabiting Costa Rica. This is the seventh country I have inhabited  in the past two and a half months. More importantly, I feel like my headspace has inhabited many different worlds. Everywhere I’ve been, I’m there, taking it all in, but different pieces of me are on display to both others and myself.

Here’s the thing about moving from place to place and not having a permanent home  – you discover things about yourself that only come up because of your surroundings. Especially when time is slowed down.

Costa Rica is very laid back. And, I don’t mean Los Angeles style chilling at Venice Beach laid back. I mean, people say “good morning” at 2:30 PM, they run on “tico time,” which basically just means time is a figment of imagination, there are no street addresses, mail doesn’t really exist, bus schedules are by word of mouth, and shops close when foot traffic is too slow. The weather is fickle – one minute the sun is shining, and the next minute, there’s a torrential downpour with thunder and lightening.

But, it’s here that you can take it all in. You appreciate each moment and nature’s beauty in her purest forms. You notice the clouds cascading in front of the rainforest-laden mountaintop on your way to the local farmer’s market. You smell the scent of asphalt in the morning after the rain has soaked the sand and debris. You hear the sounds of children kicking a soccer ball on a muddy grass patch. You watch the bicycles glide on by as the cars honk their horns. People exchange “holas” on the street, and everyone knows your name because the small community is built on connections.

While wages are low and living costs are relatively high, the important things really matter here, like the environment, art and people. The community cares deeply about recycling and compost. Wherever you see a trash can, there’s a recycling bin right next to it. Beer companies pick up empty bottles from bars, take them to sanitation and reuse them for the next brew. Street art and hand-crafted items are ubiquitous. The art of making coffee is crafted with a passion as strong as its aroma.

But here’s where it gets tricky. The down time and silence becomes loud and powerful. It’s asking me what I want to spend my time doing. It’s telling me to do something meaningful. Maybe it happens when you stop fighting it. That’s when the answers come through like the sunshine after the storm.

Everything about life here is much different than what I’m used to. Like everywhere though, purpose is needed to satiably inhabit the spaces we navigate as humans.

Inspired by: The Daily Post