Just do it

For some reason or another, I have always wanted to run away. I guess, I felt trapped. Trapped to this life. I don’t know, I wanted so much more out of life. I wanted adventure, travel, freedom, truth, peace, happiness. And yet, when I had  the opportunity, when the butterfly decided to land on my finger, I did not taken hold of it. I feared it and ran away instead.

I have been so blissfully happy in the Honduran mountain top where I picked coffee and played music and sang songs to the skies, the rivers, and waterfalls and I could have stayed, but I didn’t… why did I come back?

I have been in an airport on the brink of staying in Mexico permanently and making a living there, and I did not do it. I returned to the responsibilities of school, and work and commitments our society has imposed on me. Why did I run from this door that opened itself to me?

I have always wanted to travel freely, without an agenda or plan, just with the compass of intuition pointing arrows to my path. I’ve met only a couple of people like this in my life. Among them was Pasqual, “the french traveler.”

He was a traveling musician and carried around a saxophone with him. He made a few dollars here and there as street performer, and made it all the way to California from France. He worked on a boat, on many farms,  hitched rides, and had various living arrangements, but most importantly he wore his heart on his sleeve. His eyes shown a vulnerable humility of a child I can’t begin to describe. I only knew him for an evening, the very evening I ran away to live in San Luis Obispo but I felt as if I knew him my whole life. I know it sounds strange.

I asked him how he is so free, and fearless. I asked him what made him do it… what made him leave his home and family. And his answers were pure, simple, and clear. He was like a version of my own fearless self. He was the person I aspire to be. His dream was to reach Brazil. And last I heard, he did. I only have his memory with me, and his collection of French music he shared with me that evening.

However, that night, we did not touch, nor kiss, but I could say I loved him. It was love. In fact, I distinctly remember him saying he loved me. But how could it be? And how could it be that I also somehow loved him too? As lovers, to love is the easiest thing to do. You would think, I’d of gone traveling with him but when he asked me to join him, I feared and turned away.

To think of it now, I beat myself up. Everything I desired at that point in time with my life, had fallen on my lap. Pasqual was like a shooting star that fell from the heavens and landed on my step and I did not run away with him…. why?

I feared. I feared and to this day Pasqual is only a dream, like a pegasus in the sky.

I’m not sure If another door will open, or another shooting star will fall for me, nor do I know if another butterfly would land on my finger, but If I am granted another chance, by God, I have got to just do it!

This life is precious and only given to us once why not live it as I have always longed to live it. At least, do it for me… if a chance like this ever comes your way… please, please take it. Jump, don’t run, don’t fear.

Just do it.

 

yours truly,

 

bluebird

 

 

To Happiness

Hi.

It’s been a while and I felt like writing. Whenever I need help discerning things, I write. It is my therapy, my lifeboat from a sea of emotions. This pen and I, we will always be. I have so much to voice about and this pen and I,  have a long journey ahead of us with a long tail of our past we are learning to haul around and live with. This pen will be the only true relationship I will have with me my whole life through. However long or short. It is the extension of my voice and an extension of me. The best me I can be and I want to be the best me I can be.

As of late, I  have been trying to enjoy my life. You know… live it up, seize the day, suck in all the juice of the day. And I’ll tell you, lately I have.

I am singing like a song bird. I am using my voice. I am raising my own plants. Speaking up like never before and enjoying my solitude. I love being a barista and making coffee. I love Los Angeles, the sun, my family, my people. I couldn’t ask for more. So yeah, its been too nice to be blue or cloudy lately.  I almost feel like a transformation of self… Almost like a metamorphoses of sorts. I feel myself transforming. Is that strange?

I think I have found and ending to my book… You see, I only write and have only written because I have been in pain, in sorrow. But you see why be in a lifeboat when I can swim in the sea? why walk when I can fly? why write, when I can sing? why live in a cacoon when I can be a butterfly with wings?

My voice is my instrument. It would be foolish of me to waste it. Even if it means failing. I know how to loose. I’ve lost so much already.  So I’d rather loose for something I am passionate about than to loose to something I don’t care for. This life is to be lived, to enjoy.  And how they say, “Tenemos que chupar el jugo del dia,” or “We need to suck the juice of the day, ” like the honeybee or the hummingbird.

So even if it means slaving away and living humbly. Making a living as a barista counting pennies and stretching money,  If I am happy, that is all that matters. The best adventures I have had been when I was penniless.

So let’s do it! let’s be happy. Here is to happiness and to our pursuits.

Cheers!

 

yours truly,

 

bluebird