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Wish

Oh, how I wish I could turn back time and make better choices.
How I wish I could transcend.

How I wish it could be me, you, peace, our home and the dogs on the land.

How I wish we could wake up slowly.
Where each dawn by your side feels like a perfect eternity I am grateful to open my eyes in each day;
cozy, warm, soft, safe, indulgent.

How I wish we could unravel gently.
No place to rush to except your embrace.

No bills to worry over,
No lack,
No fear.

Joy.
true, delicious, juicy joy.

Savoring the moment. Mmm.

Excited by the adventure and the unfolding of life like two kids on the night before Christmas.

Trusting that it’s all in alignment.

Trusting we can take beautiful, bold, ecstatic leaps knowing in full faith the nets will appear – always, without fail. Knowing that even in moments of challenge we get to make the best of the adventure.

Knowing that we have each other, peace, love, life, and the land.

Oh, how I wish it were so.

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Cold

It’s the tail end of summer. The evening felt warm last night but the world felt cold.

I was walking the anxiety away. The pressure on my chest from the passage of time and the news of my mother’s illness weighed on me like a boulder.

So I whipped out what I always do in times likes these…

Pema Chödrön. One of my favorite Buddhist teachers.

I put on my headphones and listened to her calm, soothing voice remind me of impermanence. Remind me to just sit with the discomfort. “Humans don’t just feel good” she said. “Breathe into the discontent.”

I started to again reflect on attachment. How I must accept that nothing is forever. Life is not forever. I can’t hang on too tightly. Not to my youth, not my belongings, not my titles, not the people I love. I must learn to be with what is while it is and to let it go when it is time to let go.

ROAR!

I get it…I hear it. I know it. But it doesn’t make it any easier.

So let me sit with all of it. The part of me that knows better and the part of me that wants to squirm, complain, and throw a little tantrum.

—


On other news…
Lately everything reminds me of you.
There’s a canyon sized hollow without you here.

Sigh.


I am longing to soften.
To rest deeply in my body in powerful surrender. To fill my lungs with sweet, juicy air in full trust that it is all working in divine order. We are not late, we are not early, we are exactly where we should be.

Can I trust?
Can I really, really trust this time?

I am wanting to take the wild leap.

I am starting to think we live in a simulation. Or something sort of similar to it. Life’s too weird, too magnificent, too damn trippy not to lift a brow in suspicion that perhaps something’s up.

Too many strange coincidences leave my radar on alert.

I think I am ready.

I don’t know for what. But I am ready!

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Matters in Love

What really matters in love? Truly?

At the end of the effing day, when it is all said and done — what’s left?

What actually matters?

I keep circling back to this phrase: the full package.
But what does that even mean?

It’s hard to say when there are different types of love.

Love from mother to child.
Love from friend to friend.
Love from person to object.
Love from person to God.
Sibling love.
Romantic love.

You name it…
but what is IT?

Does love have a core?
Are these just branches on the same sprawling tree?

Is it a feeling?
An experience?
An idea?
An act?
An expression?
A combination of these?
A thing which cannot be explained in words?

GAHHH.

Why are we humans so complicated?
Is that part of the fun?

Relationships can be complicated.

When we love, we ache to keep it. We lay claim: my boyfriend, my partner, my person. And in that claiming, fear creeps in. We don’t want to lose them. We don’t want to see them laughing in the corner with someone else. So we make rules. We get jealous. We clutch tight.

Maybe that’s just where we are in our evolution. Still learning. Still human. Still attached.

And still, I wonder: at the core, what is it we really want?
Connection?
Safety?
Something else?

Some say love is a drug. Taste it once, and suddenly you’re hooked. Restless, aching, feening for another hit. You find yourself staring at your phone waiting for that text to come through. One little buzz, that name flashing on your screen and the rush floods in; sharp, fast, like a bump of cocaine.

“I miss you” they say.
You feel high.

But that’s it. No follow up. No change.
You feel low.

Oh, so low.


Sigh.
Hm…


Perhaps there isn’t one neat answer.

Life is too dynamic, too wild, too fluid to be contained by a single defining answer. What may be true today may be false tomorrow. Someone can say “I love you” today and drop you tomorrow. In the wise words of Snoop Dog, “It do be like that sometimes.”

Perhaps love is less of a one size fits all answer but more an art. Perhaps it’s not a thing we can shove into a neat little box slapped with a label that says “love is THIS.” Perhaps it’s more a force that can’t be contained. Perhaps it takes many forms, many names, many flavors, many sounds, many textures, many shapes.

And somehow, all of them different yet all of them true.

What a ride. What a ride.



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Avoidant?

His named rolled off my tongue like a marble, smooth and certain, echoing across his bright kitchen before returning to my ears like a familiar song. I couldn’t believe how natural and comfortable it felt. It’s is as if we’d been family all along. Like I’ve been there life times ago, and now a life time again.

—

Not too long ago my ex pinned me with a word: avoidant. Says I ought to look at myself more deeply as not to “run away” from love.

Is that what I am? An avoidant?
I thought I was just walking away from his chaos.
—

I remember my first kiss. I was about 12 years old. I thought this was it. I had found “love” the way it’s written in the fairy tales.

The boy never wanted to see me again.

Very quickly I learned that a kiss could actually mean nothing. It was less a doorway to love and more like a soap bubble: beautiful for a breath, then pop. Gone.

Rude awakening.

After that I became obsessed with kissing. I remember keeping a tally of the boys I had kissed. Each name gave me a little jolt of power. Proof I could kiss a boy and not care. That I could be nonchalant. Detached. Almost smug. Julian, Danny…it doesn’t matter. Next.


Later, as an adult, I had many relationships, most of which I ended myself. Strangely, the ones that never became anything were the ones that gripped me the most. The intoxicating cycle of chase, touch but never quite catch is like the violent rush and crash of an amphetamine. I’m alive! Electric and devastated all in the same. Mmm. Ow. I’m awakened by the wreck and feening for more.

So naturally, when I think about settling with one person it starts to feel crowded, like the walls are closing in. It reeks of routine: sameness, monotony, the tired little “How was work?” at the end of each day. God, is this it? Does the adventure end here? How unbearably dull.

On the same token there is nothing but a desire to be with the one who makes getting smothered by walls all the rave. That’s the thing about feelings, sometimes they make no sense. You can want and not want something paradoxically so.
—

So fast forward back to you. Back to your kitchen. Back to the sound of your name ricocheting off the walls. Back to all the ways you are kind, thoughtful, intelligent, sweet, caring.

But still…

Something doesn’t feel whole. Like a thousand-piece puzzle with the very center piece missing. An absence you can’t look away from. Bummer.

Does that mean I’m avoidant?
Or could it mean that I simply haven’t found you yet?

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God’s Surprises

Every now and then, God seems to send me little surprises. Winks that whisper, “I’m still here. I’m still watching you. I’m listening. I care.”

Like today, when there was an unexpected knock on my door.
In this world, people rarely knock unannounced so obviously I was filled with curiosity, “Who could that be?”

I peeked through the window and saw her—my upstairs neighbor’s mother who’s been visiting for the month to help her daughter. My neighbor is from Brazil, like me, which is something that has bonded us in a tender way. Her mother is a small woman. Her round frame carrying the kind of softness that makes you instantly think of comfort food and unconditional love. The kind of figure that reminds me of an Italian nonna, only in this case, a Brazilian mãe.

She was beaming, holding up a blue-lidded Tupperware like a trophy. Inside: a generous slice of carrot cake covered in glossy brigadeiro icing, our national chocolate treasure. The sight alone felt like home.

Her gesture was so simple, yet it landed in my heart like a divine reminder: You are not forgotten. Not by God, not by humanity, not by life itself. At least that’s the story I chose to believe. And it’s far better than the other one where miracles have dried up and the heavens have turned away.

Because the truth is, life can be unbearably dark sometimes. Heavy enough to crush and test my faith. But then, in moments like this, an old-fashioned knock at the door, a motherly smile, a Tupperware of sweetness…I find myself believing again.

So when in doubt, choose kindness.

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Adult

I’m an adult. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, dreaming and pining for since I was 13 and couldn’t wait to grow up.

And now… here I am.
Able to go anywhere, do anything, be anything. WOW.

So now what?

I find myself wasting so much time, unsure how to use it.
What do I even do with all this time?

If I were smarter I would be taking bolder moves.
And slowly, I am.

—

The thing is…life doesn’t always unfold the way you imagine.

The dream doesn’t land on cue.

But I’m stubborn as a mule and despite the piercing disappointments, I continue to stay open to the magic. I continue to dream on and carry on. It just feels better that way.

I’m at a good age. Old enough to know more of myself, young enough to make the world my oyster. I feel confident enough. Okay enough. Grounded enough.

But some days I feel like I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel a bit alone yet so full of life.

These were the days I dreamt about!! So now what?

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Text

I typed a text but never sent it. I stared at the four words I had written then deleted them, locked my phone and tossed it on the bed.

Have you ever wanted to connect with someone but then didn’t? Because you didn’t want to feel needy? You didn’t want to show you care and be embarrassed?

What nonsense.

A part of me wants to live wild and free. Take the risks. Send the texts. Sell my belongings and just hit the road without a plan. LIVE, ya know? Really live.

And the other part is cautious. Playing it safe. Writing and deleting the text.

This part is holding me back. It’s making my life stiff and presentable so I don’t do anything too risky and mess it all up for good.

—

This year has been so deep and profound. Juicy. Sad. Magical. Too real.

My heart aches and it sings.
I bleed and I dance.
I cry and I grin.

—

Rewind to February 2025 for a moment.
Dang this month scarred me for life.


And every month I’m reminded of it.
—

I suppose that’s what happens. Life keeps shapin’ ya. Changin’ ya. Moldin’ ya. Twistin’ ya. Teachin’ ya. Breakin’ ya and then buildin’ ya up again.

Gahh, I feel it all too deep. So much so I caught myself researching Zoloft.

I don’t know. A part of me loves that I can feel it all and be so deeply FULL SPECTRUM in my experience. It’s fantastic but also incredibly WILD.

Maybe life would be simpler if I was vanilla instead of a rainbow.

I don’t know.

—

I did another life audit today. This is when I sit with my budget, my life goals and vision to determine if I am on track. Am I creating that which I say I want? I assess my numbers. I assess housing prices. I assess land prices. I assess travel plans. I assess the work I’m doing. I assess my actions.

I’ve accomplished many goals, but I am still scratching the surface.


There is this massive power within me I wish to unleash. I feel suppressed. Like the levels of my highest potential haven’t been hit yet. That makes sense though. We’re all on a journey and I just need to calm down, be patient and enjoy the process.

It’s weird though because we’re not guaranteed tomorrow.

But I hope I get to the climax of my experience – and I hope to preserve it for as long as I can.


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Sometimes

Sometimes I feel so much awe and gratitude for this epic life experience my heart wants to burst.

I’m fascinated.
Speechless.

There is so much that is already working. WOW.

You are all truly amazing. Works of art.

I am blown away by your talent. Your intelligence. Your creativity. Your genius.


GAHH.

Look at us.

Look how far we’ve come and how much we’ve done. I am basically an evolved ape typing on a computer. C’mon now. LOL what!? Don’t even get me started on the fact that we even exist in the first place.

I just want to fall in love and dance my heart away.

Take my hand ~ let’s love and dance.

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Pain

I can only imagine her pain…


Someone I know who I was recently smiling and taking selfies at the park with has lost her 17 year old daughter in a tragic car accident. How could we ever have predicted this moment 2 weeks ago. Don’t you wish you could turn back time and change things? Change outcomes?

GAH. The ache.

I’ve been sitting deeply with this topic of impermanence. The passage of time. Death.

I’ve come here to this space to share about it with you a few times.

Because friends, you and I are already dead.
Time and space is just catching up.

Why aren’t we talking about this loudly and wildly? Why are we walking around like zombies taking this whole experience for granted? Taking it all too serious.

Why are our systems not serving us? Why are we turning housing into a commodity to the point we labor just to generate PAPER for a structure that is already created to feed a system that is keeping our energy in survival mode?

WHY AREN’T WE USING OUR ENERGY TO CREATE HEAVEN ON EARTH?

Why aren’t we thinking about how we actually want to contribute to the planet to make it an epic experience vs how can I just make money?

Why aren’t we asking the big questions and solving the big problems?

Why aren’t we doing work that MAKES SENSE for the sake of having a WORLD WE WANT TO WAKE UP TO EACH DAY and contribute to?

YOU AND I ARE GOING TO DIE.

We need to wake up each day as if it were our last. Love like it was the last time. Enjoy our meal like it was the last. BECAUSE IT MAY VERY WILL BE.


Love. Forgive. Give. Help. Be kind. Be good. Make the art. Write the book. Post the content. Heal.

Leave the world better than you found it. It’s up to you and me. No one else.

No. Don’t point the finger at anyone else. YOU be good. You be kind. You do the right thing. ME be good. ME be kind. ME do the right thing. And if we each do this, we will see the ripple effect.

Ask questions.

Make noise. Don’t just PAY MORE RENT. Say NO to rental increases. Say NO to injustice.

—

Anyway.

That is my venting my own pain.

—

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