Stumbling Toward Enlightenment

I recently read  this article on being proactive vs reactive. It really captures how I've developed and how we have developed as a family in the age of Covid. Life in the 'before time' was reactive--we took life as it came, and were simply doing our best. The problem is, that wasn't enough. In fact, it wasn't good at all. We (hub and I) were tired, stressed, too busy, and just barely balancing it all. Post-quarantine has stripped all of that away, in some ways for the worse (probably common to many) but also for the better. Being stripped of all of the 'to-dos' and social planning left us with much to think about, with many raw emotions and ancient pains that rose to the surface in search of healing. And healing, while painful and messy, is also beautiful and brave and a worthwhile journey. So here we are, clinging to one another, grateful for one another, and regularly turning to eachother while doing dishes or some other mindless task, and saying "we

 Those of you who tend to be caregiver types, you know what I mean. Maybe you feel that if you don't keep the world spinning, it will stop. Or if you let go for too long, it will spin out of control. For those of us who have always been the "hold down the fort" type of people, I can tell you that none of that is true. You can still be a caregiver to a loved one and take care of yourself. You can (and you must) fill your own cup before you can fill someone else's. Sometimes this means leaning on your people, and if this doesn't come naturally to you, practice. Because as the saying goes, those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind. As tough as this year has been, learning how to let go and ask my tribe for help has helped me learn how to let myself be loved. If I had allowed myself this same breadth of spirit and generosity with myself while I was caring all those years for my mom and my brother, I may not have harbored so much trauma. But

I've been reading a lot of Gloria Anzaldua lately. Her soul speaks to mine, and I wish I had found her writings when I was a young adult. As it was, I spent late high school and college clinging to writers like Michelle Serros, Richard Rodriguez, and Sandra Cisneros. Today, there are so many writers that are sharing our stories, it's such a beautiful, wondrous thing! They are sharing those stories of borderlands--las fronteras--not just geographical borderlands, although the stories of border towns need to be told--but the cultural border that is the Chicanx experience.  And things are changing! The writers hold that power. Our voices are finally being heard, being valued. This is such an exciting time in our history--we are the children, the grandchildren of that generation that sacrifiiced everything--we are the dream, fully realized. To be able to finally share those stories in book groups, in virtual learning communities, in our friendships, is allowing these stories to unf

I had a thought today that the act of opening--opening our hands and our hearts--allows us to simultaneously accept things as they are, and let go of things as they are.  This has been my experience during this strange 2020, an experience of opening up and becoming vulnerable and fierce at the same time, of standing for what is right and holding others accountable without being viscious. Such a year of dichotomies. In allowing ourselves to be vulnerable, we become strong, and in pushing back against provocations, we reclaim our space.  💥💕

I read recently that when you can't kindle your own inner light, look to others' light to gain the strength to rekindle your own. I've always envisioned this little flame inside my heart, a pilot light of sorts, and that during the times when my heart was full and life's flow was steady, that flame would roar into a fire like the ones we used to set at beach parties during college. Inversely, during those times in which fear ran high or grief was near, my flame would dim so low that it was hardly detectable at all. BUT--it was always there. My pilot light has never gone out, it's just become a matter of adjusting it to fit the circumstances. This is one of those times.  No matter how hard things have been--and 2020 has been a doozy--I've relied on what I've learned the last few years about digging deep and finding the fuel for that flame. Prayer, texts and calls with girlfriends, uplifting reading, finding my breath and practicing self-care--it's all for

Today I decided to prioritize myself and in doing so discovered an area where I've been stuck but can finally let go.  I decided to skip today's family lunch. I've done this before, but usually because I don't have the energy  and today it was with more of a clear intention--to mindfully disconnect from the noise. I just can't with that shit today. Normally, I would just go, but today I took a stand on the issue. But I felt terrible about it...terrible about how it effects my husband. He is totally fine with it, and according to him, if he could get away with it, he wouldn't go, either. But I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was letting him down, or not being fair. I felt like a selfish jerk who was only thinking of her own comfort. So he left to go meet for lunch, and I stayed home and fretted over what a horrible person I was being. But then I had a HUGE realization that I wasn't the one actually causing this situation. I wasn't the one who