Meditation #17 Growing Pains

Meditation # 17 Growing Pains

We left off two weeks ago, with the unfolding of our sexual selves and very befittingly, last week my life was reshuffled in order to help someone dear to my heart and I decided to postpone this writing until I had crossed the bridge over troubled waters, knowing that there had to be something in my experiences that was meant to feed my words. Today, as I read a story about the Giant Sequoias in the new Nat Geo, I recalled my duty, as I read: "Giant Sequoias are gigantic because they are very, very old. They are so old because they have survived all the threats that could have killed them."

Well, so have we, but growing pains truly never seem to go away. I remember reading in disbelief that the "terrible twos" are described by some psychologists as the first adolescence, when a child no longer feels dependent on Mom and Dad and reacts with the need to assert individuality, frequently with tantrums and very audible drama.

And then, there is the very adequately named Adolescence: something hurts deep in the soul, we are not quite children anymore, drowning helplessly within deep thoughts and the surge of hormones and peer pressure that only make matters worse. A lack of a serious sort unnerves mind, body and soul and we can't stand even our own shadow.

But during that stage, there was also an excitement, a curiosity, an unquenchable desire for thrills, adventures, discovery and a vibrant zest for what was yet to unfold in our lives. This is what I recall the most about my teen years and what I want to reclaim today. That glow of the novelty of life, of movement, of taste, of touch, of sight, of aroma. I remember the thrill of going by myself to the movies or taking a bus ride all alone, or with my sister, and deciding consciously that it was not truly a simple Circular Sur journey, it was an adventure, full to the brim with possibility, with people to be met, places to be seen, experiences to be lived, and I remember feeling that I was so lucky to be there, free to drink it all in, eagerly. This same thirst for change inspired me to leave my country, at the ripe old age of 18, all by myself, on a quest to find my destiny, packing fear and doubt in a locket without a key, and soaring high on fresh, strong wings. I stare at my forty-three year old self in the mirror and want to find the Brave Fledgling that hopped off the nest and somehow, managed to catch a warm wind.

Peer with me into the mirror of life and back at your teenage self and refuel from the impetus of young, unrestrained heart and soul, and dare to jump once again into your life, with the vigor and advantages that only experience, wounds and time can provide. If you don't believe me, dare to learn more about the Giant Sequoias, the towering Masters of Survival.

With Love and Zest,

Lina.

Meditation #16 From Love to Sex

Meditation #16 From Love to Sex

I am finally catching up, and as I was getting ready to write last night, I turned on CNN and watched a disconcerting report on "sexual reprogramming for homosexuals" carried on during decades by psychiatrists and mental health professionals. Our relationship with our bodies and especially, our sexuality, is still a very obscure topic, especially since it requires removing all masks and being open to pain and confusion.

I was brought up in a country where female beauty is idealized and sexualized highly from a very young age. I remember the taunting and familiarization with sex, gender roles and the relationship between men and women, or of those who felt attraction to those of the same sex, as always being at the core of jokes and conversations held not only among adults, but frequently shared and encouraged as a humorous talent among little ones: the telling and retelling of comical stories where the common denominator was always the ambiguity of language and how it served the purpose of ridiculing precisely what people repressed, the intense desires and conflicts that sexuality arose and that were so easily disguised as humor.

I look back at my adolescence and realize with horror that I was not only dancing with the devil, modeling in Medellín in the 1980’s, but surrounded by deceit. My hometown was dominated by drug-dealers and abundant dirty money, a pervasive game involving sophisticated scenarios such as the night clubs built precisely by that blood money and establishing a high stakes, fast-paced traffic of every single human desire, where young pretty girls were customarily just currency, and usually the cheapest commodity to be traded and used and abused at will. I look back at my self-image and credit my mother with the filter that allowed me to have a sense of dignity that prevented me from getting lost amidst the dazzling allure of the pleasure promised by the moment.

I found out about several unwanted pregnancies that happened very close to me as an adolescent and interestingly, fear of that ever happening to me was a big deterrent in my behavior. But looking back, even though I had the privilege of a mother who did not shirk conversations and questions about sexuality and always described sex as the most beautiful experience two people who loved each other could share, I wish I had understood earlier on, the psychological implications of sharing your body and soul with another human being. Very little discussion of this important part of sexuality is ever presented, not only at homes, but at school, and our society, represented mainly by the media, insists on portraying sex as a casual, non-committing, non-binding encounter that is presented as seeming to involve two bodies, but very rarely includes the consequences of the encounter between two souls and two visions of the world.

I have observed the reactions to sexual scandals in the media and among people and see how usually the behavior is examined as a deviation and analyzed from the guilt and shame perspective, the highlight is often the disgrace at having been careless enough to have been caught, while analysis of the complex issues of fidelity, power, and human weakness and sexuality are overlooked, or simply denied.

We seem to believe that like Dorian Gray, we can use our representations of reality, our portraits, consisting on the facades we present to the world, our powerful stances, positions, or possessions, as shields from the truth of who we are; complicated, fallible beings who need to be willing to stare their humanity in the face to fully understand their weaknesses and also their beauty, which is most majestically revealed precisely when we confront our vulnerabilities.

Only by opening our minds, bodies and souls to inquiry, to questions, to longings, to desires, to unfulfilled needs, can we fully inhabit our sexuality, and allow the real You to seek connection with another. Just as when we lay our clothing aside to allow another to become one with us, masks and fears need to be shed, in all three dimensions, forming a bond of unbreakable communion. We spontaneously inhabited our sexuality even as babies when we were held, breastfed, cuddled, massaged and explored our bodies, and we were reminded that we were loved. Sadly, our upbringing may have distorted our perceptions of who we are as sexual selves, but the way back requires re-learning who we are and learning to love and accept ourselves.

Before we can even begin to comprehend the far-reaching effects of a sexual encounter with another person, regardless of our sexual orientation, we need to understand human connections, relationships, affection, conversation, empathy: the gift of looking into another’s eyes and putting down the walls to allow the real selves to shine through and venture to reach out and let the sparks fly. Only then might we find our paths to understanding the fire that is created when two human beings melt one into another and find an echo, a mirror, a bridge that allows them to fuse into the divinity of another. Only through love we can understand this power, but it starts with the love we must first feel for our own selves; Love is the beginning of a healthy sexuality. 

With love,

Lina. 

Meditation # 15 Dancing Around the Fire

Meditation # 15 Dancing Around the Fire

Let me hold your hand as we move from school memories about longing to belong and evolving new selves onto the trunk that is filled with our most cherished and joyous memories of our school days. We are invited to focus on the laughter, the wonder urged by the thrill of discovery of the gifts we found in our hearts, such as friendship and caring for our oth

ers; the new muscles being flexed in our brains, as we were led to explore our creativity and new skills were developed; and our physicality, as we were taught to enjoy sports and games with others. I remember vividly asking everyone I met about their after-school activities. I enjoyed school so much that I longed to stay active and engaged once the bell rang for dismissal. I now realize that might have been precisely the seed that matured into the books I have written; inspired by the urgency I felt to make the best of every day, to learn and explore the world relentlessly.
This weekend, I was reminded of the careless intense joy achieved while lost at play in the most magical way imaginable. I ended up dancing around a bonfire, laughing and singing with abandon at a phenomenal party to which I had not even been invited originally. Life conspired so that I could meet a new friend who needed to be reminded of her value, surrounded by love and care, and so we danced around a swirling bonfire, praying for fertility, joy and hope to flood her heart and body. I felt like a little girl, and allowed the powerful pull of the collective to surge through me. I surrendered to the primal irresistible pull of beating drums and syncopated human hearts and the seduction of the fire, which filled us all with euphoria as we shared intentions and the sincere desire for the well-being and happiness of a soul in need, mercy and compassion uniting us all.
In this very moment, I watch with trepidation fire and smoke burning as Gaza and Israel tumble to the ground in a tight suicidal embrace, brother against brother, blind strokes aiming at innocents and instigators, and I wonder…
Can we surround the burning fires of our self-destruction with the forces of self-less love,
the belief in hope,
the defiance of optimism amidst tragedy,
the confidence of forgiveness disarming betrayal, and manage to defeat the burning fires of doubt and fear with the love shared by beating and caring human hearts. I think about the millions of children that are being denied a serene, happy day at school or at home because of our adult complications, and I wonder if we, the lucky few who knew days filled with laughter and now have the gift of happy memories to cherish, can feel summoned to surround their wounds with prayers and care and manage to find the heart to persist and never desist and insist on dancing around the bonfire.
With love and an intense desire for peace in my heart,
Lina.

Meditation#14 The Shedding of Selves

Meditation#14 The Shedding of Selves

I have always been fascinated by exoskeletons, whether those of the cicadas or the shriveled snake skins I found so often in the Amazon and Louisiana wilderness, or by the ones I have found on beaches, my treasured seashells.  Often, I have contemplated how even as the time passes and our children leave behind clothes, shoes and toys, these too are like armor that has been outgrown and discarded, requiring newer wardrobes to accommodate the growing bodies of manifold creatures. Nature seems to adapt and easily transform whether it be the growth of a bigger body or a completely new self in order to allow development and growth to continue unfolding. What then signals the need for a new soul, a bigger heart or a higher state of being when life seems to reach a new stage of existence?

In this particular meditation we are invited to reflect on the many times in life in which we have so longed to belong to a group, to be lost in the collective and feel like a cherished crucial part of a jigsaw puzzle. In early childhood, this becomes a particularly powerful desire as the transition from home into school allows us to observe how the others around us dress, play, talk and behave. Our immature selves were particularly eager to please and be accepted no matter what the cost or sacrifice we had to make. How many times we agonized about being the last to be chosen for a team or the one not invited to a party or to participate in a simple game and perhaps even about not having the right kind of clothes? How many times a kind gesture or a word saved the day, and opened a fold where we could be part of the group and feel included. The longing to fit in and be valued was very strong and if never understood and rationalized, it might make us obsess about fitting in and feel that we need to possess all kinds of things in order to feel worthy or accepted.

How often have we realized that when we dare follow our own hearts and make choices based upon our own individual tastes and preferences, this simple act reveals fascinating details about who we are? Have we developed enough certainties about who we are that our exoskeletons do not need to match the collective for us to feel comfortable? Can we defy the powerful pull of uniformity to dare to be different and shed the masks that hide our real selves? Can we remember with a grateful heart the people who welcomed us and helped us to learn to trust who we were in order to belong?

So often, our own attitude can be a catalyst or a blockage as to how the people who surround us decide to act, depending on whether we encourage them to feel free to reveal who they are in all sincerity, or if we carry the sword of our judgement and the shield of our criticism. Can we depose our fears and act with such spontaneity and genuine authenticity that we encourage others to be confident to be who they are, plain and simple, and excel at what the only assignment we are all expected to excel at: merely being our true selves, selves that are free to be shed and to evolve as the never-ending surprises of our lives unfold.

With love,

Lina.

Meditation #13 The Gift of a Home to Call my Own

Meditation #13 The Gift of a Home to Call my Own
It has taken me so long to focus my mind and sit down and write this meditation, and I can only blame it on the avalanche of feelings it has precipitated. It is introduced by the words: 
Let your Heart be sincere. 
Be Steadfast. 
Don't fall apart when disaster comes. 
I tried a week ago, as I was traveling back home, at the Panamá airport, when my h

eart was torn between the loves I left behind and the ones that missed me terribly and couldn't wait to have me back at home. I also watched as thousands of people saw their own homes under water, the certainties of their routines blown away by a monster storm, and I started my week-long untangling of the mystery of what Home means. The meditation invites us to look back at that first departure from home, to the challenging environment of school, where rules were different, new grown-ups abounded and little ones who dealt with the first day of school in so many different ways were all around.
For me this image immediately related to what I have been experiencing with my daughter, who just left home to go to school, but this time it took her far away, and she is still trying to cope with her homesickness. Yet, I saw how she was overwhelmed by a feeling of inadequacy as she came back home and visited with friends and even us, the people she so terribly missed. Interestingly, she felt she did not belong here either. Home is such an abstract idea, and yet we assign its weight to concrete things. Being an immigrant makes you realize that home can be a divided place in your heart, the homeland where you leave your beloved roots, but also can be re-crafted in the new location you have chosen to plant new dreams and hopes. Then, as life in its never ceasing flow of experiences, uproots you and sometimes takes everything away from you, you realize home is more related to a myriad of feelings of safety, of comfort, of familiarity and belonging. I am watching the victims of Sandy's wrath bracing for yet another threat, and how their lack of basic services is severely affecting their sense of being provided for and acknowledged. I can only pray that the misery is not compounded by the new storm, and realize how frail our certainties, however solid they seem, really are. Nature has a way of humbling our arrogance that nothing else achieves, and the lesson within the tragedy is the urgent need to cherish and value every little comfort and develop resilience and most importantly: an ever-present sense of gratitude for the daily miracles that surround us.
With love,
Lina.

Invitation to Come Into My World

Before posting the pre-reading, pre-writing and then subsequent readings of spanish books to guide the process of Spanish teaching at home, it is important to point out that the journey towards language acquisition and its maturation begin in early infancy, even in the womb.
Every maturation activity contributes to prepare the brain and the body of the baby to move from talking and listening to comprehend the more complex processes of human communication.
In our book, Come Into My World, we describe 365 activities for children between 0 and 5 years of age (which is merely a practical classification, the text is useful with older children and has even been used as a tool to help people recovering from a psychological trauma). These proposals cover a wide range of life experiences which help to prepare the future reader to explore letters and learn about their power. 
Every activity of rhythm and music, rhyme, stories, poetry, tongue-twisters, aid 

in maturing listening skills and the awareness of rhythms and rhyme in spoken language.
Every exercise of graphic practice, even as simple as doodling, edifies spatial relationships, directionality, and the specific exercises that I will describe will prepare the brain for reading. Just as a Child invites us in the introduction to Come Into My World:
"So let's fall in love together,
Let's find the magic in a drop of morning dew. Let's enjoy all the range of colors waiting to be spotted in the sky, from the sun's first rays to the sunset at the end of each day.
Look into my eyes and lead me.
Watch me closely, and you will realize that I also have much to teach you!

Meditation #12 The Eyes that See Good Everywhere

Meditation #12 The Eyes that See Good Everywhere

There is such an inherent complexity in the human condition! This week's Meditation calls us to reflect on all the Goodness we have received through out our lives, especially as we started to walk and eat and develop independence skills, that allowed us to progress into toddlerhood. As last week, I began by describing the negligences that had brought my family to its knees, praying for Divine Intervention so that my Mother could recover, I had no hint that within a single week I would be exposed to such a flood of intense emotions. It truly was a roller coaster ride, and I feel so much more intensely alive having flexed the muscles of my human-ness, but I am convinced that I come out, still holding my head up, because I manage to hold on to my vision; which actively seeks to try to see good everywhere.

From the surrender to the helplessness that I felt at being far away as my mom suffered, to the elation of having friends from all around offering support and prayers, to the pursuit of new projects, the opportunities to meet new people who were willing to open their hearts and share their stories, to the expectation of seeing my daughter who needed to come home to refuel her soul, the freshness of a blooming rose we saw in the promise of a new bride and groom committing to share their lives, and the thrill of rejoicing together at the promise of a new home where love will abound. I danced, I cried, I laughed, I told stories, I humbly accepted the power of the flow of life and surrendered to it. I said goodbye to loved ones in order to allow the possibility of once again hugging and greeting still more loved ones and my heart is full with the discovery that life has so many hidden drawers where emotion is stored. We have so many nooks and crannies of feeling and when we open up ourselves to the majestic tide of life, it feeds every little crevice, rounding up the form, making us more human, allowing us to feel more connected to every other fellow Earth creature, submerged as we all are in the daily renewal of possibility: as long as we keep our eyes open to the good in everything.

I have awoken in a magical place called Canelot, where neglected and abandoned dogs of all sizes find a home, and the excitement for the new day was palpable as soon as the sun peeked out. Feed us, they seemed to chant, come join us to cherish the gift of this new day!

With all kinds of neat feelings brimming in my heart,

Lina.