Showing posts with label being the beautiful person you were born to be. Show all posts
Showing posts with label being the beautiful person you were born to be. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Sometimes the Best Quality People Go Unappreciated by the Crowds


My Grandma wasn't the kind of woman that everyone could appreciate. In a lot of ways, she was a hidden treasure. Not because she hid herself...but more...because the culture we live in doesn't tend to gravitate towards the quieter ones. She was amazing, smart, funny, and cool. When I feel the pressure of life pushing down hard on me, I think of her and try to emulate her. Sort of like "What Would Jesus Do?"...only it's more like "What Would Grandma Do?" (no offense JC...you're pretty cool too...it's just this old lady really had it going on).

Grandma was one of the younger children. She grew up in the southwest, on a farm. She had a bunch of siblings, most of them older than her. Her mother, was a notoriously hard woman. She was known for her fits of temper and rage. Her father, was a quiet man. Kind to his children. But submissive to his wife's anger. Cacimira had a right to be angry. Life had not been fair to her. She was smart. And as a child held much promise. But one day of acting out in school...a school where her father was the headmaster, shamed him so much, that he punished her forever. She was never allowed to go to school again. Never allowed to learn. To grow. To become what she could be. To become what she knew she had in her. Cacimira was robbed. And forced to live a life of hard physical labor. -Lack of education will do that. She was married off to a man (Santos) who would be kind to her, and who loved to read, but was also destined for a hard life of labor. They worked in the fields of many different farms. Bringing with them, their children, to work as well. School was a luxury. My grandma loved school. She told me stories of walking in the frozen, icy desert...walking in the dark for hours, so that they could go to school. In the Winter months, there was no agricultural work. So that was her time for education. She and her siblings would each get one hot potato for breakfast, and they'd carry it in their hands or pockets to keep warm on the way to school.

When Grandma was a teenager, her older sisters Nellie, Irene, and Gloria would go to the local dance hall on weekends. Compared to my Grandma, her sisters were glamorous women of the world. They wore makeup, and had shoes with 1" heels on them. -Not the farmer's work-boots my grandma wore. But one night, they took pity on her, and brought her along. Lord knows why!? They made it a game to make fun of Grandma usually. They called her "Piano Legs" because her legs were so long and skinny. She was skinny growing up. And she didn't have a very womanly form. Grandma speculated that perhaps one of her older brothers made them...or maybe it was their parents... for whatever reason, they took her. It was her destiny to be there that night. Because that was the night she met Henry, my grandfather. For him, making friends and being social came easily. He was a charmer. Everybody loved Henry. He spotted my grandma sitting alone at a table, in a back corner of the dance hall. My grandpa was the kind of man who always imparted to me the importance of being inclusive. So it's no surprise to me what came next...he crossed the room to go talk with my grandma. He lured her out of her shyness and asked her to dance. He didn't care that she didn't know how. He'd teach her! The main thing was, he didn't want her to feel alone. That night, he walked her home. It didn't matter to him, that there were at least a dozen other *prettier* girls there that night, all of whom could cut a rug better than grandma. -he liked her. And she liked him back. Theirs is the closest, I've ever seen to a "love at first sight". They spent the rest of their lives together. Very much in love, and dear friends, the whole way through. I hope that one day I will feel that kind of connectedness with my mate.

When Grandma got older, she had struggles with racism, and illness. No matter what came her way though, she was the most determined woman I've ever known. She kept her head high, wrote her goals down, prayed for god to watch over her and her family and friends, and for god to bless her with the right opportunity to change things. Most of the time, her prayers came true. All of the time they were answered. 

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Oozing Snot But Still Having a Good Time...So this is what it feels like to be a garden snail?

When I was a teenager, one of my closest friends had a belief (passed down from her mother) that "Whatever you are doing on New Year's Eve, is what you will be doing for the rest of the year." -For me, these words were like a curse. They would propel me into a frenzy of activity and worries, trying to make those few precious hours really count, and somehow be "the best hours of my life" up until that point. Consequently, many NYE's were filled with so much pressure, that it detracted from the fun that I could have been having, had I not felt *obligated* to be having such a good time. Just to be clear, my NYE's weren't that radically different from anyone else's. I would get dressed up, go out, have fun with my friends. We would find fun things to do, sometimes going to parties, sometimes going to big public gatherings of people, or dancing. It was fun. But I still felt the pressure of the curse. I would compare my relatively ordinary life to those of characters in the movies and feel let down. How come, at the stroke of midnight, I wasn't passionately being kissed by the dashing man of my dreams? Where was my Harry (like from "When Harry Met Sally") making his way to wherever I was, crossing the room, just to profess in the most touching way possible his deepest and most ardent affection for me? Compared to that, my life was a let down. I was a 13 year old girl with a lions mane of crimped hair, and slouch socks, eating pizza and staying up late with my girlfriends. When I got older, not much changed, except for the hair and slouch socks. Oh sure the parties changed. Things got a little more grown up. But those cycling feelings of pressure and disappointment followed me into adulthood. 

Sometime around my early twenties is when things finally began to change a little bit. I think it was actually my first laid back NYE since the casting of the curse. I was visiting some friends for Christmas in the Seattle area, and stayed for New Year's. Some time during the visit, a group of us had gone down to the Franklin Covey store to pick up new planners and paper refills for them. I chose the "Seven Habits" planner, modeled after the book. It actually felt luxurious getting that planner. The cover was a nice textured brown leather, something that would wear nicely over time. Somewhere in the paperwork for setting up your planner, was the idea of a mission statement. A personal mission statement to kind of focus and guide your life. Eva and I took our planners down to a local coffee house and sat there, listening to warm, coffeehouse jazz and merrily philosophizing about what we wanted our lives to be like. Who we wanted to be. What we wanted to contribute to the world and how we wanted to connect with others. Then, once our mission statements were done, and our Covey planners were all set up for the upcoming year, we would write out our Buddhist determinations for the upcoming year. -Goals that we were willing to commit to for the next year. For many years after, even when Eva and I were in different states, we would do this tradition. This year, I haven't gotten on it *yet*. But I will. 

This year, I was horribly sick on NYE. And not only was *I* sick...but my fabulous boyfriend had it too! Together, we were a coughing, hacking, fever-ridden, wheezing mess. Snot oozed out of us. Whole boxes of tissues were used up and discarded. I barely ate for a week. We stayed in this year and cuddled and watched movies. The little girl in me, who is still somewhat daunted by the words of my childhood friend, thought "Oh great...so what does this mean? I suppose I'm going to be sick a lot this year. And spend a lot of time at home doing nothing, while every one else is out having fun." But then the adult woman in me told that little girl to calm down because I was actually happy. Even being home sick, I was having a good time with The Cute Boy. It felt like we were doing something delicious, even though we were only hanging out, talking, and laughing, and cuddling. It felt good to just be myself, even a really sick and slightly gross version of myself with bedhead because even in that state, I was having a blast with an awesome guy who loved me and was tender with me. He does things. Little things that my family used to do for me. Like rubbing my back and cooing "sana, sana, sana culita rana" to me. And he got me a washcloth and rinsed it under cold water, rung it out, and brought it to me when my fever was so bad that even my eyeballs felt hot. It may not sound like much, but believe me, it is. And we both feel it -the gratitude of finding and loving someone, who loves us in return, and takes good care of us. We learn and we grow. And I'm trying to outgrow my childhood insecurities and enjoy my life more. It's a process, but it's coming along. More and more, I'm realizing that being successful in life isn't about being perfect. It's about being myself and loving myself with all of my imperfections. It's also about enjoying life, even through the challenges. 

Friday, November 18, 2011

Just Be Yourself


Here's a tip: 
In reality...real people fuck up. 
All. 
The. 
Time. 

And we all know this. Just from our own experiences living life, we know this. So why are we so worried about it? Why get so freaked out when we drop the ball? Or look a little awkward? Or attempt something and fail? Why try to deny the truth, that sometimes we're wrong and make mistakes? Doesn't it seem better to be a little more open and honest with who you are and what you think? Maybe make the daring risk to be wholly yourself, and hope that maybe, just maybe people will like you for who you really are? And that's not to say that people don't employ this kind of mentality in their personal lives. I think many do. But there seems to be a distinct disconnect and compartmentalization of who we are when we enter the work arena, or the dating arena, and church, and who we are when we're more comfortable and either alone or with our best friends. When the stakes are high and the political climate is uncertain, most people pull back and damp down their inner glow and just try to blend in. -Be like everyone else. And I think this is a mistake. I think first and foremost, we should be striving to think for ourselves. Know who we really are and what we personally think and feel. And then to share that wisdom and inner truth with the world. Just let your light shine! 

In my most recent romantic relationship, one of the things that I love most is getting to know my boyfriend better. I had described my feelings relating to this to a friend of mine. It was early on in the relationship, and we had just reached a hallmark moment. I was on my period, and my boyfriend had offered to go to the store to pick up tampons and ice-cream for me. “He had me at tampons and ice-cream” I told my friend. It was so true. Now bear in mind, I was the kind of girl who used to have to go to the store for maxipads and tampons and feel compelled to buy “something else” just to cover up the fact that I was really just there for period supplies because world, yes...I was on my period and was gushing torrents. It was so embarrassing to me that I would try to cover up the big package of Always with *wings*, with a few carrots. I would put the carrots right on top like teen-girl-period-camouflage. 

“You do not see these tampons and maxipads. These aren't the droids you're looking for.” 

Needless to say, my tampon mind  tricks fooled no one. But I guess it made me feel better at the time and a little less embarrassed. When The Cute Boy offered to “man up” and get my “lady supplies” for me, he instantly won about a million kajillion love-points with me. It was a very simple yet loving gesture on his behalf. I went onto described it to my friend like this: “I loved how it was not a big deal to him...and there are so many moments of connection and intimacy. Open conversation. And that beautiful thing...where we explore the world and ideas together through conversation. To share a part of yourself with another human being. To be. To simply strive to be and to keep being -open. A sincere honesty of the soul. Kind of like 'Here we are...two beings in the universe and this is who I am.'” I went onto say that “ I am being so open and honest with MacArthur in large part because I know how honesty is the key to being known. It's prime for connection. Intimacy. True acceptance. Real love. In order to let someone into your heart you have to be honest with them about who you are. What your faults are. What your dreams and goals are. What you're struggling with. And where you are headed in life. I also have learned that it's simply worth it to make that risk...I've come away from the experience firmly knowing in my heart how important honesty is in a friendship and primary relationship. In so many ways...It's also simply good to be authentic because then I have *the chance* to even be loved. To be seen for who I am. And loved for the unique creature that is me. -There's grace in that. True grace in that feeling...of being known and loved.” Sorry if this is repetitive. But for me, I just kept coming back to the same points and it was like a revelation for me. It felt good. I was in an exciting place in my life, filled with soul baring honesty, and with that came a certain amount of vulnerability. I was trusting those around me to be good to me. I was showing my boyfriend my soft underbelly and trusting that he would be gentle and kind. And he was. And he is. And I count myself lucky to be known and loved the way that I am. It feels so good, that it's leaking over into other parts of my life. 

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

I'm Bringing Sexy Back

July 22nd, 2009; 1:51 AM
New hair! I love new hair! I'm feeling more like the old me. I lost myself there for a while, and I'm now finding me again. Buried under all of that stifling insecurity and longborne silence...is the vibrant, fun-loving, adventurous, child-like spirit that used to be so obvious and present in me. Insatiable curiousity. Laughter. And just loads of fun! I hug. I include. I bring out the smiles and best in others. I am rockin' the do! Who knew *hair* had so much to do with life?

Monday, May 23, 2011

Born To Make Great Things Happen In This World


  • Aug. 21st, 2008 at 10:38 AM
Floppy Bunny Mess
 I was struck today by a thought. It's kind of hard to describe the full depth of how this felt. I really don't think words can do it justice. But truthfully, there is nothing that I am about to say, that you haven't already heard or figured out for yourself. I guess the difference for me was *feeling it* like feeling it in my gut...in my heart...in the spirit of my personal beliefs.
An agent was doing fund raising in our company meeting today. She made a pitch for donations...she's raising money for cancer research by doing this 2 day walk. It really touched me with how much importance she placed on this. I could tell that doing something -contributing in some way, to help find a cure for this disease was really important to her. It meant something to her. It was bigtime for her. And that thought got me spiraling on other thoughts. I began to think about how all of us have something in life that we simply don't like. A change in the world that we would like to make but maybe don't take it upon us to do so. But I was thinking ...Why not? If you don't like the state of our country's international policies...then why not become a negotiator for peace? Or go into politics? Take some sort of action and contribute something of worth and value to the world around you. Or cancer...I mean almost everyone I know, knows someone who has cancer or had a friend or family member who was lost to that disease. So why not take it upon yourself to do something about it. I think about people who dare to dream that they might actually help improve these situations. And it's the initial audacity of their dreams that is the first step in the journey. To believe in yourself. To know that you have a purpose in this life that you were meant to fulfill. My grandma used to tell me that I was born to make great things happen in this world. And I really believed it. I still do. But I absolutely know that I am not alone. I think we were all born to make great things happen in this world. And if we only all believed that...really lived up to our  potential...god damn! What wonderful things we could do!

I love you! Have a great day! That's all I have to say -for now. :-)

Comments

kitty8fish wrote:
Aug. 21st, 2008 05:42 pm 
"And it's the initial audacity of their dreams that is the first step in the journey."
yes, the audacity to dream! :) should we all dare to want something amazing!

vanmedi wrote:
Aug. 21st, 2008 06:12 pm
Hells yeah! 

I was totally thinking of you when I wrote this too! Ms. Med School! :-)