The Writings of Gabriela Garcia Medina

February 18, 2010

A Late Night Contemplation

Filed under: Journal — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — admin @ 5:30 am

I have forgotten that the world is smiling

That my dreams don’t fit through any doorway

And my spirit shines brighter than the sun

I have forgotten what it is like to love

And have adopted cynicism as my coping mechanism

I have forgotten that strangers are open

And friends are available

That poetry is therapeutic

And that prayer is healing

The spark in my heart has dimmed to a flicker

Trauma now blankets my fears

And isolation is the only place I find solace

The sky is not weeping yet I see no sunshine

The path is clear

Yet I stand stagnant, stuck, still, uncertain

waiting for something that isn’t coming

I am lost in the translation of my own identity

I am not who I believed I was

And I am not who I wanted to be

But I am human, genuine, beautiful

Authentically confused

Uniquely disturbed

And daringly open to smiling again.

Writing again.

Living again.

February 19, 2009

Gabriela Garcia Medina, an Introduction by Cesar Gonzalez

The day my boyfriend and i decided to transition our relationship from a romantic one, to a friendship, he gave me this poem. I had asked him a long time ago if he would be willing to write the Introduction for my upcoming book, or an intro for who really is Gabriela Garcia Medina?!? He is a computer Engineer by trade, but he is so much more than that, he is an incredible writer, and one of the most beautiful people i have ever met. It was hard to decide we would transition, but it was beautiful to receive this gift on the day we made the decision! I think it’s very brave of him to write me a poem (that he agreed i could publish), if only we would all challenge ourselves to be brave even when it is scary to do so!

Gabriela Garcia Medina, an Introduction by Cesar Gonzalez

Humming and painting and sewing and writing,
Creative, in flow, this is She, and she’s flying
Amidst incense and colors and Lila Downs records,
Mirrors and Outkast, and leg-warmers with checkers.

Beautiful and focused she channels creativity,
Says she’s the medium not the source, and gives thanks for her ability.

Forget where it comes from, her magic is inspiring and bold
Seeing her on stage is a sight to behold.

She walks up with a smile, and opens her heart.
Fifteen minutes later….she has two-hundred new friends — that’s her art.

She loves with a passion
And also speaks loudly.
Wears her skin proudly,
And creates her own fashions.

In frilly clown-shirts and hundred year-old broaches,
Sexy lingerie and a skirt, you know she looks flawless.

With each new person, she opens her eyes
And looks at them as if for the very first time
(Oh wait, it IS the first time you say? then why don’t the rest of us see them that way?)

At only five-feet two-inches, with dark hair and brown eyes,
You would think she’d get lost in a crowd of tall Gringos.

Nope.

When she walks in a room her presence can’t be denied,
There are smiles, there’s love. Hey! I’ve been to her shows!

When she gets to work, it’s inspiring to see
The to-do list items get crossed out with glee.

There’s focus and purpose, hard work and alchemy
A few hours get transformed into…..oh…..a new poem, a clean kitchen, another handmade shirt, twelve friendly calls, Yoga class, five booked shows, handmade cards for all her friends, and a vegan-Cuban dinner for her boyfriend.

If someone dies, she offers words of encouragement –
“They lived a good life full of love, and fulfillment.”
(Shhh! It’s too soon. He just died; they’re still grieving.)
But you know she can’t help the way she’s perceiving.

She’s climbed Huayna Picchu, and cycled across the US
in three months and a day, and with very sore legs.

Let’s go on a trip — Geneva, Africa, and Argentina
with a stop in Havana and a cup of tea in Bolivia.

A bike and snake have nothing in common,
except on the road when you cycle upon them.
Screaming and crying she cycles much faster,
Uphill, against rain, so that snake won’t get past her.

Of all the things there are, to be scared of in life,
Like people, and stages, and opening up,
The two things she fears are snakes and tall heights,
No wonder she pursues what she wants in her life.

A beautiful person once taught me to say,
Life is too short, live for today.
That doesn’t mean you give up on the future.
By investing this moment your attention and love,
The world spreads its arms and opens its doors.

Standing ovations, connections and magic,
Free upgrades, free meals, smiles and excitement
Abundance and laughter, success and adventure
Are yours to be had, are yours without measure.

Truth is a voice, have you heard it inside you?
It whispers, it fades, its message gets garbled.

Her Truth is a screaming Giant; it can be hard to ignore.
That conviction, that love, make her good to the core.

Life is a dream,
Magical, fun, and exciting.
All around you are signs
Of God’s work, it’s Her writing.

American Giving

I always feel somewhat awkward around gift-exchange times; and I’ve been trying to figure out what it is about times like these that make me feel this way. I mean, what about all that talk about Christmas being a time in which we practice the joy of giving?!?

My first response to myself is self-critical, I must be selfish. And my second feeling is one of guilt. I feel guilty for not enjoying these times of “forced” giving, and then “selfish” because I never feel awkward or guilty about giving gifts to myself on a regular basis.

And then, I think a little deeper and I forgive myself for calling myself selfish and guilty. I think about all the cool gifts I have been inspired to create and to buy for people I love. Elaborate hand-crafted gifts that have taken hours and hours of my precious time, because I have been so motivated and excited about making something special for someone who I love and appreciate. I think about hand made meditation cards I made for my boyfriend before his three month departure to Argentina; I found images online, I put them on pretty card paper, wrote insightful meditations on the back of each, prayed over them, wrapped these personalized meditation cards in green silk fabric; and placed it in a collaged box with lavender flowers (I picked myself, while out for a walk), and a little instruction booklet I created and rolled up with ribbon that completed the gift. Then I remember all the times I have seen cool stickers and bought them to send inside a postcard to my little brother in Switzerland. The dress I made for my friend Clare’s birthdays, that took me some days to design, and some days to sew. The hundreds (not an exaggeration) of postcards I sent my friends from every town along my summer bicycle trip across the country, And lastly I  realize how happy I am to spend my money on having great quality time with my loved ones, whether it’s going to see a play, visiting a museum or gallery, going out dancing, concerts, mini-golf, whatever! I love taking my little cousins to the movies, my friends out to dinner; my roommate to a cool party. And I realized that I was not SELFISH at all; yet these Christmas-Holiday-Gift-Exchange-Thing had me feeling all awkward.

All my questions were answered when I went to a mall; where I was bombarded by the Christmas shopping chaos, as I watched hundreds and hundreds of people grabbing these void objects that they would then pay for and take home with them. I experienced such a lack of creativity that day; watching people buy, buy, buy with little to no thought being put into the process, and I felt pity for everyone around me; I saw them as sheep being herded into these big shopping malls to spend all of their money faster than it took them to make it! And I imagined these large companies profiting from this phenomenon!

And THAT was the moment I realized what my REAL issue with this whole “gift-exchange-thing” was! Christmas (like most other commercial holidays), is not really about spending quality time with family, or the joy of giving; NO, Christmas is about big companies making big profits. And so people get consumed by consumption; spending everything they have and everything they don’t have; buying things that they need, but more often than not buying things that they don’t need. Impulsive, greedy giving; and I stood watching appalled at the whole phenomenon. Disgusted by what has become of this holiday and astounded that it’s yet another successful scheme by marketing companies to convince people of their need to buy.

I got home and saw that there was a packet waiting for me. It was a FedEx packet from Florida. My manager had sent me a work check along with a small gift. It was one of those new American Express Gift Cards. I texted him right away, expressing my thanks and reminding him that he didn’t have to get me anything, but that I was grateful for his kind gift. He responded my text message by saying “I wish it could have been more” and that was yet another strike for me against this American Holiday! Why would anyone give, and feel bad about the amount of what they are giving? Or the size of their present? Or its value?

My manager wasn’t the only one who felt this embarrassment for “not giving enough” people around me who had baked cookies for friends, or those who had made something creative that cost them much time, but not much money; they were embarrassed too!

I saw how materialistic this holiday had become that if you truly invested time, thought and energy into your gift-giving, it was not as valuable as someone who went out to the mall and purchased an expensive, un-necessary luxury at Bloomingdales!

Every year I tell my family that I don’t want anything during this season. I tell them of the things I need and how they can help me get them; but I emphasize not celebrating so much the gift exchange portion of this time of year, but rather seeing it as an opportunity to be around family, to spend quality time, and to get to know one another. After all, isn’t that the greatest gift anyone can receive? The gift of love?

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE both giving and receiving gifts. But I don’t like having a time of year where I am forced to give and receive them. Pressured by society and manipulated by marketing campaigns and the idea of a man in a red suit (that was actually created by Coca Cola as part of one of their Marketing Schemes!). So I would rather give and receive spontaneously, on random occasions, because I saw something (on any given day) that made me think of a special person, or because someone thought about me so much that they were inspired to write me a poem, or buy me some cute lingerie, or because my mom felt like buying me a pretty bracelet that she wanted me to remember her by when we are apart, or because my roommate had a good day at work or school and decided to bring me some sunflowers or callalilies, or my little brother drawing me a picture at school, these gifts feel authentic; genuine, and truly special.

But honestly Christmas, like Valentine’s Day and Easter, for me, are overrated. I don’t like to give and I don’t like to receive because it feels contrived, forced and manipulated. So instead I tell my family that I don’t need or want anything, that I am down-sizing, and I wait for the times where I feel compelled and inspired to create a gift for the people I love.

January 30, 2009

At Least I’m a Good Poet!

Filed under: Poetry — Tags: , , , , , — gabriela @ 8:39 pm
Helloooooooooooooooooo friends!
As you know I’m doing the AIDS/Life Cycle this year. It is a 545 mile ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles (6 days) where I will be raising money to this cause.
My very first sponsor was Cesar Gonzalez who donated $100 towards my goal.
Because he was the first, I decided that I wanted to do something nice as a Thank You for his kind gesture of support. So I invited him over to my house for a “special” date…where I would make a “special” dinner…i was going to Cook Cuban food…(adapted to our eating habits of course)…so it was actually almost-Cuban, almost-Vegan food….and well…the experience left me somewhat traumatized so i decided to write a poem about it!
The poem is entitled “At Least Im a good poet” because those were the first words that came out of my mouth when Cesar stepped through the door.

My only disclaimer is as follows:  Please understand that this poem is an exaggeration of the truth…i’m actually not that bad of a cook, so you do not need to be afraid to accept an invitation should i even invite you over for dinner!

love~
yours truly!


At Least I’m a Good Poet!

At least im a good poet!
Smoke seeps through the walls of my kitchen
Aromas of garlic mixed, with burnt caramel and old Teflon sink into my hands and hair
Im barefoot and wearing an apron with Frida Kahlo drawings all over it
It’s frills make me feel sexy
If only I could pull this off….
Kettle boiling
My stomach turning cause I’ve tasted everything from the undercooked flan
To the overcooked caramel
To the burnt tomato paste
And three week old wine I threw into the vegan picadillo.
Im trying to impress my boyfriend tonight
Well, at least im a good poet
At least im a good poet
I repeat to make myself feel better
Batter all over the kitchen table
Floor is sprinkled unintentionally with sugar
Tomato seeds and chopped onion squares have been diving off the cutting board for the last 2 hours.
It’s a mess in here!
Looks like the giant sitting atop his beanstalk
Ate too much of a lot of things and threw up all over the linoleum
Kinda smells like it too
Well, at least im a good poet
Pan is sizzling,
Windows are wide open
The birds outside aren’t brave enough to fly within 10 feet of the house
And my favorite plant has started sweating garlic and is slowly wilting
As the heat permeates through its stems, I think it’s trying to tell me something
I should really turn off the stove, throw everything away and order Chinese food,
Or thai food…he likes thai food…I could say I made it!
The thought has crossed my mind a few times, but lying isn’t my strong suit
Ok, I can pull this off, and if it doesn’t work out….
Well, at least im a good poet
Cant be good at EVERYTHING!
This is like my second time trying to cook something other than salad
I can sure hook up a great salad!
Though im not sure that would really impress his mother
A cloud of smoke hovers over my pots
Looks like a forest fire
Like the apocalypse is coming and all the veggies are going to hell
Good thing I took the batteries out of the fire alarms last time I tried doing this!

At least im a good poet!
Been following grandmother’s recipes
Though nothing’s turned out according to plan
See, it all started with the flan
I made it three times!
In that time, I could have written him a love poem and a couple of rhymes
That would have been a whole lot more productive than this cooking thing!
It would have served the same purpose,
To do a nice, thoughtful deed for someone I love,
But no, I wanted to challenge myself, so here I am
Stubborn, and stuck in this kitchen like dried egg-white on the table.
And how I thought I could cook 2 main dishes, 3 sides and a dessert with only two functionally challenged pots and one and a half pans?
I DO NOT KNOW!
And yes, I said one and a half pans
The half is missing a handle which, I accidentally burnt
When I tried to make pancakes once
And the Teflon is scratched from when I tried to fry an egg
And because I didn’t have a wooden spoon I used a metal fork instead
How was I supposed to know that the Teflon would shed?
I should have thrown it away, but since I almost never used it, why bother
Well, now im trying to cook beans in this pan
Organic-Cuban-Style Black Beans!
At least that’s what the can said
Yes, I used beans from a can
And No, that’s not cheating, I still added my grandma’s famous sofrito,
Which I made from scratch
And no, of course I wont tell him they are from a can!
Because technically I still “cooked” them.

At least im a good poet
At least im a good poet
And then, there was the rice…
You would think that it would be easy to make rice
Especially already cooked, organic brown rice from Trader Joes
All I had to do, was take the rice out of the plastic pouch and warm it up
A one-armed, blind man with a congested nose and burnt taste buds could pull this off
So why wouldn’t a creative and enthusiastic young woman with fully functioning senses manage to do the same?
Trying to juggle to many pots at once,
Before I finished pouring the mojo on the yucca,
Checking on the beans and tasting the flan
My already cooked, organic brown rice was burnt, black, stuck to the bottom of the pot, like old gum under school desks
So I quickly poured half a cup of water into the mix thinking that would make it better,
And, NEGATIVE

NOTE TO SELF: (for future reference): Adding water to already cooked burnt brown rice, Gives you exactly that:
watery-cooked-burnt-brown rice.
So I threw it out and started again,
This time I didn’t even blink.
Focused. All eyes on the prize! stir, stir, done!
And to make it look pretty I molded the rice like little mountains on our plates using a teacup!
Like I said…creativity points for the POET!

Doorbell rings
I anxiously let my boyfriend in
The moment of truth
I bring each plate into the living room like a Dead Man Walking
Awaiting execution for pre-meditated cooking and accidental poisoning
I can already picture myself crying over my boyfriend’s body,
Forgive me, Forgive me
At least I’m a good poet!
I place each dish on my living room coffee table,
Nope, I don’t have a dining room, or table….or chairs
So here we are,
Sitting on the floor,
Candles lit all around us (to create a diversion)
He might like the food a little better if he can’t actually SEE what it looks like.
You go in for the first bite,
I bite my lip and pretend to close my eyes, but secretly look to catch your first reaction
You swallow
I exhale
You say that it’s delicious
I say “you’re being too nice, It’s ok, At least im a good poet”
You compliment the flavors
You are impressed that I actually pulled off an almost-Cuban vegan menu.
Isn’t that like an oxymoron? Like defying gravity? Like magic?
“Well, I Am the world’s greatest magician” I reply
A smile now growing deeper and deeper into my cheeks
You look into my eyes:
“Gaby, this meal is an exact representation of your life,
Of your struggle to be Cuban and fit in with the pork fat, chicharrones, deep fried plantains and lots of tocino in the black beans culture while committing to being yourself: a vegetarian, mostly vegan, often raw, Michael Pollan-reading, always-smiling- feminist poet.”
Yes, it’s hard I know! I respond
You say I balanced it beautifully
You take another bite,
I’m so nervous I kinda lost my appetite
“You make me wanna learn to cook”, I say
You ask me if I put any of the cheese that’s coming out of my mouth into the food
And then you comment that a man cant technically “make” a feminist “DO” anything
I rephrase myself…
“I mean…that being with you inspires me to want to learn new skills, acquire new gifts, like cooking and I apologize in advance that you get to be my test subject,
But like I said, at least im a good poet!”

He puts his silver-wear down for a minute
Finishes swallows the forkful of my concuction,
And placing his soft hand over mine, he says:
Well, you weren’t always a good Poet
When you started writing, I bet your poems
Were not always simmered quite right,
There must have been times when your words were slightly overcooked
And didn’t emulsify into savory poetry
Im sure you’ve had your fair share of salty metaphors
And thoughts that drowned in their natural flavors from ideas that were not well seasoned
A vocabulary once too bitter or too sweet
And a style a little bland
And now, look how far you have come
You are a chef of words,
A recipe for innovative rhyming
A taste for meaning
A perfect blend of creativity and wisdom
Marinating spirit into life
And peeling layers of truth with every word
You are indeed a good poet
And so with your cuisine,
You may also one day be able to cook like you write.

(…Actually,
he didn’t exactly say those things;
He’s an engineer,
But that’s how this poet,
soon-to-be kitchen guru
remembers it!)

December 5, 2008

Smile to Life (Entry: December 4rth, 2008)

Filed under: Journal — Tags: , , , , — gabriela @ 9:03 pm

I smile to Life

I read this article today and it made me reflect on myself and the world around me:

http://dsc.discovery.com/news/2008/12/05/happiness-contagious.html

Reflections on article:

Happiness is most def. contagious.

We have the power to choose it
and when we make that choice, it manifests all around us. I really
believe that. Even in these trying economic times, we have the power to
choose how we want to interact with the world, we can choose to be
angry, annoyed, scared, or we can choose to tackle these challenges
with laughter, with joy making the best of every situation.
It gives me an idea for a poem:

Imagine if Laughter was contagious
If you could catch smiles like cooties
And find joy, like light in our darkest hour

Imagine if Happiness was not something we struggled to achieve
But that it was always present in the way we lived our lives

Imagine if a smile could cure a cold like a shot of wheatgrass
Or if an open heart warmed rooms like the sun
If we replaced doubt with faith
And fear with God
If we knew that the world would always be smiling at the beauty of our life,
And that our mistakes would make sunflowers bloom in the most unexpected places.

I wonder how different the world would be?
And i wonder how different we would be in the world?

Free at Last! (Entry: March 2007)

Filed under: Journal — Tags: , , , , , — gabriela @ 6:07 pm

Free at Last!
How to Recover from a Broken Heart…..

Yes…I was in that meditative state, one gets in right before falling asleep, and suddenly I jolted out of bed with the realization that I was finally free….and completely over my ex.
So whoever said it takes half the time you were with someone to get over them….LIED….It took me almost 2 years to get over a 2 year relationship….and for the first time since I met this person I can honestly say I AM OVER IT….and mean it!!!…cause you know people say that all the time after they break up with someone….after a 5 year relationship you run into your girl at the club drunk out of her culito and when you ask her how she’s doing she says “Oh I’m so over it!” Yeah right….I don’t care how much alcohol you put into your body….when you wake up tomorrow morning….you’ll still be crying and you’ll still miss that co-dependence that you had with your partner……so…..it takes time and it takes work….the key word in this past sentence is WORK…..yes….you can’t just wait for TIME to heal you….YOU MUST BE AN ACTIVE AGENT AND USE TIME TO HEAL…..time is there for you to take advantage of it, but as long as you stay a victim of circumstance and still look to the past with longing….you will only perpetuate your own misery…..you will LIE to yourself and find new people to replace old voids, put a band-aid on an infested wound….that will only continue to grow……

Until you are fully healed from your past, you will not be able to fully walk in the present. Give yourself time for self-recovery……right after a harsh break-up we tend to get really busy and really involved….ALMOST OBSESSED with things around us as a way to avoid from looking at ourselves and asking ourselves very important questions…..when I broke up with Mark I got obsessed with my career….and getting ahead…..i was so focused on work, that it left me little time to think about what I had been through….for men, I hear that it is easier to be distracted by finding quick replacements…..though these replacements are physical, they lack depth and emotional connection……it is our cowardice way of coping and avoiding sitting with ourselves in the painful process of letting go.

How did I heal?
It was NOT easy….as im sure you can tell from my past poems, journal entries and blogs…..But since I am complete in this most recent process…I want to share my experiences in the hopes that they may help others who are going through it, or who have become stuck in a place of stagnancy and self-victimization.

8 STEPS TO RECOVERING FROM A BROKEN HEART!

1.    I took time off from the world…I chose isolation because I needed to cry and release everything I wasn’t ready to talk about. I gave myself some alone time for mourning…..one of the first steps in acknowledging the end/death of something.

2.    I found comfort in Lila Downs…..I would take long drives, roll up my windows all the way and sing along to Lila Downs Rancheras……this became my way of releasing pain….through singing…..everytime I ran into my ex, or had a thought about my ex, I would grab “La Cantina” by Lila Downs and would give myself 30minutes to an hour to sing along and cry about it….then I would get out of my car and continue on with my day.

3.    I spent time with Family. Sought advice from my elders, and engaged in laughter, joy and service with people in my immediate and extended family; whose warmth reminded me that I was not alone; who’s words provided me with comfort; and who’s love gave me strength to heal.

4.    I did the master cleanse….a great way to move forward from an unhealthy past is to change different parts of our lifestyles…..one important part that affects our moods and our energy is our EATING….by doing the master cleanse for 10 days, not only did I heal my body, but I also actively healed my mind and my spirit…..

5.    Pick a hobby….something that makes you feel good….whether it be to paint, to write, to sing, to dance……practice this hobby in a balanced way….don’t inmerse yourself so deep in it that you forget that you are healing….but allow it to fill a part of you that has been lost…..allow it to be an act of self-love, a gift that you give to yourself…..for how can we expect others to give to us if we are not capable of giving to ourselves?

6.    Prayer and Meditation has provided me time to reflect. Ask myself the following questions: Why was this person in my life? What gift, lesson do I take with me from this past experience? How am I better equipped for my future relationships and interactions? One of the most important questions for me was Do I really miss this person…or do I miss how I felt with this person?

7.    After asking myself these set of questions I came to the realization and the understanding that my ex….was not meant to be my life partner, because if that is what the universe intended for me, then it would have worked out that way; and thus I accept that my ex and I are not aligned, and therefore, in order for me to grow and come closer to finding the person with whom I can nourish a healthy, balanced and inter-dependent relationship with; I must be able to let go completely of my past, for if I don’t, it will cloud my future relationships and I may not be ready for my true life partner once they come along…..

8.    FINALLY I was able to forgive….First and foremost I forgave myself for any pain, and hurt I may have caused my ex….i freed myself from guilt and shame, and accepted my past as lessons that I can now look back and see differently…..and Secondly….i forgave my ex….for any pain and hurt that I allowed him to cause me. As my compassion grew, so did my love for myself….and thus I was not tied to a past that was holding me captive and keeping me in the darkness….instead….i was able to release and let new wisdom, new perspectives, and new light flow into my life…..and with this new wisdom, with these new perspectives and with this abundance of light….i began to attract like-minded spirits and surrounded myself with a new kind of love.

WHAT IS MOST IMPROTANT IN OUR HEALING PROCESS IS THAT WE USE CREATIVE VS. DESTRUCTIVE METHODS TO RECOVER…..IF WE FEEL PAIN, WE SHOULD NOT IGNORE IT, WE SHOULD ACKNOWLEDGE IT AND LET IT SIT INSIDE OF US, BUT WE MUST NOT GIVE IT THE INTENSITY OR THE ENERGY THIS PAIN DEMANDS…..WE SIMPLY LET IT BE, AND THOUGH WE BECOME AWARE OF IT, WE TRY NOT TO ACT UPON IT, AND INSTEAD TRY TO DISCOVER ANSWERS TO THE QUESTIONS THAT WILL ENABLE US TO MOVE FORWARD IN OUR PATH TO BE WHOLE AND COMPLETE INDIVIDUALS….!

And thanks to this process that I have undergone in the past year and a half….i have learnt so much about myself, about the things I want to manifest in a life partner….and finally I am grateful that my relationship ended….for now I can see the bigger picture….before I was so caught up on the rain-drops that I didn’t understand the rain…..i was so caught up on the wave that I didn’t connect it to the ocean….and so now I am grateful that I am able to see this relationship as a stepping stone towards the changes that my spirit must udergo to be complete, whole and free….so that it can attract the energies of individuals who are also complete, whole and free….so that I may be able to engage in a healthy loving relationship that is free of co-dependency and that is rooted in LOVE….a word….that we must learn to define and re-define over time, and throughout each of our break-ups….a word that will teach us as much about what we want and desire from others, as what we want and desire from ourselves!

Consejos de la Abuela for a Broken Heart (Feb 2007)

Filed under: Journal — Tags: , , , , , , — gabriela @ 6:05 pm

CONSEJOS DE LA ABUELA FOR A BROKEN HEART!

I went to Zabumba this past Sunday night, a place where i frequent on a weekly basis…so as to brush up on my salsa skills ….And this one very attractive Cuban guy who i know from the scene, thought he was being witty when came up to me and said “Tienes que enamorarte” meaning “you have to fall in love”
i totally laughed it off, said my goodbyes, and drove home.

Now, i believe that God speaks to us in many ways, and on my drive home i thought about what this guy had said. Ofcourse he had only intended it to be a pick-up line but to me it was so much more.
I thought about his statement “You need to fall in love” and in that moment i realized that as much as i have tried to move on from my last relationship i really HAVENT!

I went to sleep that night and of course….who came to visit my dreams…..my ex!

I woke up the next morning in the WORST FUNK i have been in since my father past away, and i even felt a little guilty that i was somewhat more upset about my ex breaking up with me.

IS THIS NORMAL? WE BROKE UP APRIL OF LAST YEAR…THAT’S 1 YEAR AND 2 MONTHS!!!…SHOULD I HAVE MOVED ON ALREADY….?

I read somewhere that it takes about half the time you were with someone to get over them? So according to my calculations….we were together for 2 years shouldnt i be done MOURNING ALREADY????
And why is it soooooooo much easier for men to move on than it is for womyn…..?

Men can find someone else right away…for us womyn it takes so much longer.
I think it is because we as womyn get entered so we hold so much inside of us, whereas for men, all they do is enter and move on….you know?!?
Anyways….so I woke up in SUCH A FUNK the other day…that i did not do ANYTHING at all….just put on some Lila Downs (for those of you who dont know…Lila Downs is like the 21st Century Mexican Billy Holliday), sang along and cried all DAY….Pathetic? I KNOW!

But it’s OK…i want to put myself out like that to the world….afterall….i have a feeling that i am not the only one who’s been through something like this…..
Which is why i decided to post the advice that i received from two people in my life who i love and respect. That way…if you’re goin through it, or you’ve been through it…you can hopefully make use of this advice as i have….!

The first bit of advice came from a good friend of mine. He is happily married and has a beautiful family. In a message he wrote:

im sorry those dreams/feelings continue to occur. i always tell people that the best way to get over somebody is to find somebody else you really like. i know its a little easier for guys, because we can detach easier, but if you can find that guy (maybe you’ve found him) that can help distract you, you ‘ll be on your way. dont be afraid to do that. ?other than that, its tough. love is something you cant put a cast or band aid over. only time can heal. ?have you spoke to him or thought about calling him up? that may help to know that maybe you guys can be friends. maybe knowing that you can hear his voice, or get some good advice, or at least say hello to him when you see him out, will help. is that possible?
hope you feel better ?i’ve been there

The next bit of advice came from my very own Abuelita….all the way in Cuba…She went through much heartbreak in her life….but she is happily re-married to her soul mate….I had written her an email telling her how i was feeling and this is what she said:

Mi Nina:
lo mas importante que te quiero decir es que porfa, levanta el animo, recuerda que no hay hombre que valga la pena que estemos triztes, yo se que es imposible mandar en el corazon y en los sentimientos, por eso tenemos que luchar ferreamente para llevarlos al olvido, recuerda que tu y solo tu vales mil veces mas, asi que levanta tu ego y adelante, te dije una vez que eso crea heridas pero como todas, se cierran y solo nos queda un leve recuerdo que en ocasiones hasta no sabemos exactamente donde se encuentran, pero todo depende del tiempo y de la fuerza de voluntad.
Bueno mi niña, no te doy mas muela sobre esto pues se que saldras adelante aunque todavia te quedaran dias como este en que te sientas mal pero de seguro pasara, te quiere un monton, besote,

Abuela

Opposites.

Filed under: Poetry — Tags: , , , , — gabriela @ 6:01 pm

Opposites

I read my horoscope every Thursday to get insight on my week
You laugh at my superstitions and accept me as “unique”
You wake up at six in the morning to get more time out of your week
But I see it as too much effort and I laugh at your teqnique.

I believe nothing’s impossible
And all can be attained with creativity
You believe in Reason
And look at life with objectivity

I’m outspoken and extroverted, overly emotional and highly political
You are quiet and introverted, perceptive and analytical
I believe in chance, you in probability
And while you see strength in consistency
I see strength in vulnerability

You live in a world of numbers and accurate solutions
I live in a world of magic and Illusion
Your mind tries to rationalize confusion
While my heart blindly trusts the spirits that guide its path
I read books on self-love, feminism and Revolution
And you read about Science, Computers and Math

To you, the world is logic
To me, it looks abstract
I search for truth in Intuition
And you search for truth in Fact
But one thing we both agree on,
Is that opposites attract;
Whether it’s random, or sequential
Metaphysical or Existential
The world is full of infinite potential
When our spirits interact.

Bailar Contigo.

Filed under: Poetry — Tags: , , , , , , — gabriela @ 6:00 pm

Bailar Contigo.

La Charanga empieza a tocar
Y de repente
Se me pone la sangre caliente
Cada vez que me sacas a bailar
Mis caderas como el mar
Se mueven con tus brisas
Y tu linda sonrisa
Me empieza a enamorar.

Mis pies quieren caminar
Hasta el fin del mundo con tus pasos
Y mis manos atrapadas entre tus brazos
No te quieren soltar.

Admito que me resulta dificil evitar
Querer comerte con la Mirada
Con tu cuerpo sudando
Mi boca te esta deseando
Y me falta el aire al respirar
Y asi aun seguimos bailando
Con la musica gozando
Me das vueltas y vueltas
Y aunque a veces me sueltas
Siempre me vuelves a agarrar.

Y cuando me coges de la mano
Se me derriten los dedos
Y se evaporan todos mis miedos
De volverme a enamorar.

Y entre congas y claves te susurro al oido
Que me gustas!
Tanto como me gusta bailar,
Pero mas, me gusta bailar contigo

Porque cuando te veo bailando
Es como ver a un religioso resando
Es ver a un nino jugando
O a un sonador sonando
Es ver al sol en el cielo
O ver la espuma en el mar
Es ver paz en la tierra
O ver a un cometa estrellar

Y es contagioso tu bienestar
Que con sabor me captura
Y me consume por dentro
Sacandome el alma del centro
Que con la musica se quiere expresar.

Y como una estrella en la noche que alumbra aun durante el dia
Tu forma de bailar se ha inmortalizado en mis versos,
Y por siempre brillara, y vivira
A traves de mi poesia!

Her Remains (November 2nd, 2007)

Filed under: Journal — Tags: , , , , , — gabriela @ 5:59 pm

Her Remains.

My mouth feels violated every time we kiss
For it can taste the reminisce of the woman you still miss
And when you hold me in your arms
Her ghost lingers in your charms
And when you lick me soft beneath my ear
Her name echoes an alarm
And even though she’s nowhere near
I can feel her presence here between us.

I see her reflection when you look into my eyes
And feel her scent when you reach between my thighs
Your heart still wants what your mind denies
And as we’re getting undressed
And your hand is pressed
Passionately against my breasts
I’m overcome with unrest at the thought of her
Ever so present is your past
And my feelings are overcast
With disappointment
For wanting you

For wanting something i cannot have
Yet I accept the broken half you offer me
Because I’m stubborn
And my heart (like yours), wants what my mind denies
And this ghost from your past I have come to despise
If it’s already dead why does it feel so alive
And I realize
That the only way for ghosts to die
Is for them to be forgotten
And only you can close that door
It is your love for yourself that can win that war
So until then
I must conform to being your friend
And nothing more.

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