One Day I Will Tell You...

One day I will tell you the story, about my dads last words to me. About how when he said them, I thought to myself these sound like last words, but I denied it in the moment. About how now when I look back he knew he was staring death in the face. One day I will tell you what it was like to experience the torture of not knowing whether he would live or die, what it was like to live like that for 10 whole days. One day I will tell you what it was like to watch my dad die, to watch his life slip away with the numbers on a monitor going down to zero. One day I will tell you about the moment, I new there was no saving my dad, and the sudden pain I felt in my heart, how the pain of childbirth could never compare.

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The Monster is My Friend

I am bigger than the monster. Fear, doubt, anxiety are my best friends lurking in the mist, waiting for an opportunity, waiting for an opening, to come in and take over, subsume me, bring me down into the darkness. Some days, I can look them in the face, thank them for their presence and walk away. Other days, I fear their presence, for I am too tired, to warn out to talk to them that day. Other days I welcome them in, and give them food, and let them eat me up. Still other days, I detest their very existence, resent the fact that this is my life, that I must walk with these monsters every day. And alas, that is the most dangerous feeling to have, that is what they feed on most, my resentment for them. They grow in my fear of the darkness, in my loathing of taking the time to address them, in my denial they are a necessary part of life. I am learning to see darkness as a gift, to listen to its lessons, to ask what it is here to teach me. And then take the lessons into the light.

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A Teenage Love Story

20 years ago today I met a boy on October 24, 1998 at the Mt.Sac Cross Country Invitational. It was the Fall of my junior year. I first saw him the night before right after he had run his race and my friend pointed him out to me as the guy she wanted me to meet. She was dating someone at the time, and together they decided they should introduce their best friends to each other. When I first saw him from far away, he was wearing this bright yellow long sleeve soccer jersey over his cross country uniform.

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How Do I Overcome Self-Doubt?

The answer is……

Lot’s of therapy. After being in therapy on and off for over a decade, I have learned many coping strategies. One of them being to process my negative thought patterns and find ways to re-direct them in a postive direction. So here is a look into my process…

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My Summer of Heatwaves, Anxiety and Transformation

I'm a little afraid to put this out there, to reveal myself to the world, to be this vulnerable, but all signs point to how I must share my gifts with the world. I have wanted to be a writer since before I can remember. I wrote my first book, as soon as I learned how to write. It may not be perfect, but it is my gift nonetheless, and I have been called upon to stop resisting it, to stop denying it. To transform my struggles into gifts. So I present the following from my raw heart.

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Healing Motherhood

I imagined my first blog for this year would be about my new years resolution as I have done for the last few years. But as it seems, my spirit has still not yet settled from the transition into the new year. I like to wait until I feel confident in my intentions for the year before I articulate them, which sometimes takes me like a quarter of the year, which only leaves me the rest 3/4ths to actually work on those intentions, but hey that's me! I will say that I am feeling like this year will revolve around the concept of transformation, but I will leave that for another blog entry. 

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Tattoo for My Dad

I walk with death every single day, something I never thought I would have to do. It has been almost 3 years and I come to realize the grieving process never really ends, it just become part of your life. I’ve learned to find the happiness in the grief. Not one day goes by that I don’t think about my father, that I don’t wish he was here. Sometimes it makes me really sad, and I begin to cry. And other times it reminds me just how much I love him and how much he loves me, and so to think of him makes me remember that love and I comforted by that feeling.

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My Resolutions for 2017

Last year I made a resolution to get closer to the earth to attempt decolonial living, which I defined in my last blog post. I want to talk a little about how that went, what changes I made and the impact it has had on me and my family. I also want to talk about what my resolution is for this year. And despite our current political climate full of uncertainty and fear, how much hope I have for the future.

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My Attempts at Decolonial Living

i was going around in circles on how to refer to the project I have been on this year. I said my New Years resolution was to get closer and to connect more to the earth. I imagined that working out in different ways, and yet what do I call that? I kept saying I'm becoming a hippie, I said that because people immediately understood what that meant, kind of. But as an Ethnic Studies scholar I take seriously the historical and racial implications of words, and thus I'm not sure hippie was quite the right word for me. So I thought decolonial living made more sense.

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Dead Man's Party

I was 13 years old, and in 8th grade. It was Halloween and this would be the first year I did not go trick or treating. No, this year my dad would take me to my first concert on Halloween night. To see the band he took my brother to 8 years earlier for his first concert. One of my father’s favorite band to see live, Oingo Boingo. It was their farewell concert, the last day of the last tour, the final show they ever had. I was there with my dad. My mom and my brother came along too. We sat in the mezzanine at the Universal Amphitheater.

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