“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment.”
-Henry David Thoreau

Today could have been a moment of resentment and getting lost in the past. By some miracle, though, I was able to distance myself from my story and see pass it, into the role others play within the big scheme of ordinary day-to-day life.

It is hard not to get entangled in the words and gestures of a lifetime. Perspectives and definitions long held and embraced, in times when we could not differentiate truth from personal views, or were not mature enough to weigh the consequences of letting them run our choices; make us doubt our intuition, bury our anger or be crushed by sadness and loneliness.

I do not have the answers. I am far from graduating from this life course. I am just happy and bewildered by a moment in which I was another ME; a human being able to see the movie once more and turn away from it. It hurt a little bit, I was about to fall in the trap, but something pulled me out…

I am here to celebrate and express gratitude for that “supernatural-heavenly” strength that made my day. Yes, it had to be from another world! The person writing this and grinning with rascality is new to me. Let my words soar as a little message of hope for those like me, easily sunk in sadness or isolation by a painful past. Let it be a beam of faith in the power lying within and ready to rescue us if we remain open to it.


Tracking my steps back, I can recall: feeling the pain, reading my thoughts, listening to them loud and clear, becoming aware of what I was doing and telling myself, what is the use? It happened like in slow motion and it took time for me to register what I have done.
It was just when I sat and decided I would keep my commitment to create and work with what I am meant to do (even if it is fuzzy and scary), that energy popped like bubbles and the muse came for a visit.

I am happy; happy not because things changed, or are going better (they still the same). I am happy because the unfriendly outside world could not get to me as before. It might get me tomorrow and the day after, but not today! Today, my spirit won! Today, I saw a different person, one that valued herself and that, is worthy of celebrating. It is a question of practice now! And that I know about…

Two bright stars in the dawn of time… Keep them coming!

I was reminded a few days ago of the incredible treasure of real friendship. My world had been turned around in such a way that I felt as hanging upside down about to fall in the abysm. Once by one my friends showed up, some because I asked them to; others because they must have heard my soul. To all of them I own keeping up; and offer this tiny step of growth as a gift.

To the stern and sweet presences, visible or not helping me become what I am meant to be…

Thank you!


Is about the questions
Answers elude me
They are nowhere to be found

Mind and heart
Fight for terrain
There’s no making sense
Of the stormy exchange

I rise and observe
From a mighty place
The funny mayhem
Of my many selves

Roguery smile
Stifles the laugh
A stunned victim
Says goodbye

Where are you going? You used to be mine!
Surprises itself by letting go pain

Witnessing it
Just passing by
Is a lofty feat
Of colossal size

The eyes that behold
Such an uncommon true
Look around to be sure
They are not being fooled

Ego had it chance
And was quickly replaced
An unusual charm
Danced it away

Indifference well dressed
Came to exult
Or assert its place
Where all duty fades

The unknown is by sure
A terrible guest
And Blood shall become
An avoidable threat

Love can be fleeting, yes
When the shell is about to break
Or coming to die in the grip
Of fear disguised as guilt

Is a second in time
One forged in dear life
Spent to recall the Who
Able to heal the wound

I grabbed just one
One answer in the bottomless Bag
Nobody can steal from you
The vision of our glorious life

We give it up,
In weary times,
Is easier to blame
Than conquer our minds

But heart drips with passion
Igniting the soil beneath
Tight squeezes the Soul
It never gives in

Unhindered Truth peeks
And sneaks through a sweet crack
Left by an inner light
Brighter than a star

I leave the questions
And the Answers to the Sky afar
To delight in a moment
When “I” was really “I”



Mercedes Calcano August 2015



“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.”
Arthur Ashe


Some days I feel as my life is too small. I do ordinary things in ordinary places. When I left Venezuela I thought it was for good. I sold everything I had to fund the dream of building a life in freedom and possibilities in a country where I could grow and experience the amazing range of knowledge and diversity my heart yearned for. I wanted to belong in a place evolving “at loud” where an honest and committed effort can bloom, at its own pace, but definitely bloom.

Life can turn around in a twist and what was unthinkable becomes real. Heartbroken and defeated, I saw myself jumping on a plane back leaving behind all my possessions and my heart in a box.

Life here seems to be lived in reverse, constantly involving, shirking to a point where you cannot breathe. Life dies hard though, even in hopeless areas and under the shade of large and imposing trees; a seed germinates pushing through rocks and roots fed by a silent promise and the soil and sky’s generosity.

Challenges breed resilience and perseverance when a dream awaits; when there is enough love and trust that Good as the seed, is fighting to grow.

You find yourself in a place you don’t belong, with nothing but “you” and the many experiences stacked in your soul. You came back not because you wanted to, but because there was no choice. Failure is indeed a bitter pill to swallow, one with the power of erasing at a stroke the many heroic moments and accomplishments of a lifetime.

One step at the time you come to realize that a blank slate is a space for ideas to be born, a lab for exercising courage and get to know the person you have become. If we allow life to speak, it will hint us about the actions to take, directing the spotlight on a number of spare parts that somehow need to meet and reveal those ones missing for the picture to be clear.

Projects come and go, intentions dissipate or flourish transformed by the circumstances and “yes and no’s” accumulate as we walk. Everything appears to be random, but it is not. This is the single certainty we might enjoy. If only pieces came in a box with an image at the top!

I have come to work as an “intervention” piano coach. I am being referred students who lack motivation or practice habits and are about to fail or give up. As I see their pain, I remember my own. I wish for them what I wished for myself – belief and support- a hand to hold and accompany me back home, to that place of worthiness and possibility where there is a reason for all and I am truly loved for who I am, no matter what is going on.

As life presents itself, the chain of events ostensibly has a dream of its own. The original dream still beats in the background too weak to dare to impose. I need to trust that something wiser than me is pulling strings and somewhere in time the two shall meet and give birth to my fate, the one it is meant to be and I have both searched for and resisted.

In the meanwhile I sit and think of my small life and the things I have done and wish I could do. I understand how caught I have been in the idea that what you have or you can prove, defines you. Success today dresses in glittering clothes and makes loads of noise. I have no bright clothes and fled to noise. I want to change the world and reach high, but my scope and resources are too small.

Then I reflect about the metaphor of starfishes in the sand and the hand that send them back to the ocean. My life might seem small from the point of view of a simple woman picking up messes and knocking on doors, but when a kid hugs me or I see him smile and shine, or when the adult’s eyes betray their masks and innocence and hopes are reborn; then, just then, my life is a big as my soul and the dreams of a rainmaker are nurturing the soil.

Purpose comes in different sizes, I am not sure if we chose if they are big or small. It might be in other’s hands to determine their scopes. What I can choose is to act or not. The impact I leave in one person might be imperceptible for statistics, the media or the last reality show. It is not for the fabric of the world though…

One person is a world in its own, defining her fate as she touches as well those in her scope. One by one we fulfill our destinies and the chain of people grows,  those who might not see us in the papers or glittering clothes, but will remember our love and be strong and confident to pay it forward making others feel loved.

I thus declare…

There is no such thing as small lives; there is only poverty of dreams. I shall live to remember that when a dream is lost, is not just the dreamer the one affected but the Universe as a whole. I shall keep then, focused on the soul in front of me and enjoy the greatness I might not be able to see but that will have a tiny bit of me.

When “Something” Speaks… Let it BE

As complex and uncertain as a moment in life might be, that is how some things happen to exist. I left my guard down and witnessed within. There is no better way to explain what I saw, than telling the story as it happen to me.


Loneliness is a strange thing…

It has the power to summon such a wide range of emotions and place them randomly on the canvas of experience. Loneliness dressed for the occasion, and takes the feminine discontent and expectancy lurking from the mirror before an important event.

It might be sweet as nostalgia or really painful as a loss.
It might savor hope and become yearning in the long run.
It might be unbearable as despair, or eternal as the dark nights of the soul.

Loneliness is a friend I have known since long ago, there is no use in running or pretend I must go.
It can come for a visit and hang on with one or the many walking by or just engaged in small talk.
It might post a picture and join the cyber space, circling around words and events wishing to be heard.

Loneliness is a strange thing, I must say once more…
It can stir the invisible substance where things grow and turn into high speed intentions and creative flow.
It might happen to be a serene getaway for the silent longings rising from the beyond, and soaring as flying metaphors of the heart’s call.

Loneliness knocked and I opened the door…
She waited patiently as I sang my song.
Then took the beads and strung them up.
One by one the space filled up,
Reeling words sketching my soul

Loneliness can surprise us too with the colored face of the truth…
There is beauty and magic in the painful hope voicing it sadness openly to the Gods.
A string of consciousness might reveal the treasure hidden in a sudden tear and from the solitude of who we are, offer something to that other who might as well searching is, about why loneliness is such a strange thing.

solitude 1


Today I feel lonely
Lonely as the seed awaiting to become

Loud and messy Life sings
Its song just an echo leaving no print
Bouncing from one gesture to another
In nameless faces and dreams
Vibrant Waves pass by
To dye in routine

Today I feel lonely
Lonely and forgotten as the mist touched by sunlight

Rushing steps and cheerful laughs
Chirping birds and caution warns
A cacophony of vital wise
Running through the veins of ordinary life
A memory blinks of a time in the past
Where I was too a note
In this music blast

Was I really ever one..
A note dancing
In this music staff?

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as the dissonance in a plain ballade

It is not that I’m alone
Noise and sparks
Colors and forms
Move around and call along
So bright and bold
Unchanging and dull
The profane reigns
Claiming to be
The word of the Gods

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as only the heart might know
When dwelling in the void left
By a nostalgic Soul

I look in the mirror of dangled sighs and solitary tears
Farewell petals and secrets hopes
Caressed by invisible frontiers
Unspoken words in aging ink
Remember the future
Of timeless kisses
Unwillingly mourning the past long gone
And surrendered unlived

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as one for whom the other is lost
Or yet to be known
One for whom
Her true reflection is no longer enough

Today I feel lonely
And wish I was not
I seek the promise of the encounter
And search the stars for a response
Twinkle, twinkle
Far beyond
As I wonder if above
Angels keep all dream notes

Today I feel lonely
And nothing but you can fill the void
You dearest, a mirage of joy
Eternal reverie of a solitary soul
Casting silent spells
To place a face to love


Mercedes Calcano
July 2015


“… I drew [The Little Winter Gardens] several times and there was no feeling in them. Then afterwards — after I had done the ones that were so stiff — came the others. It is the same with the clumsy and awkward things. HOW IT HAPPENS I CAN EXPRESS SOMETHING OF THAT KIND? Because the thing has already taken form in my mind before I start on it. The first attempts are absolutely unbearable. I say this because I want you to know that if you see something worthwhile in what I am doing, it is not by accident but because of real intention and purpose”.
Vincent van Gogh – letter to Anton Ridder van Rappard

Starry Night. Van Gogh

Starry Night. Van Gogh

The past year has been a laboratory of alchemical processes destined to define what I believe might be my life purpose. As part of the mourning and action- reaction chain of events resulting from having to leave a life to begin another in a constricted and estranged place; I have been compelled – even force- to move into a “conflict zone.”

I used to say that we need to open our coffins and face the skeletons inside to truly live. Easier to say that done! In the midst of working out some milestones for a project I set myself to build, I realized how much I resist exposing my own and deep truth to the world and how deeply I fear to find out is was just an illusion or I do not have what is takes.

Because the Universe has a “style of humor” of its own, synchronicity catches on when you less expect. I have been postponing taking action, those specific actions than would surely throw me into the realm of the unknown. I am afraid of the consequences they might bring. Lights and shadows, they are indistinguishable in the process of transformation, they both threaten my comfort zone.

Of course, what you resist, persist; thus, “ACTION” has been a ghost chasing me all over social media, books and even in my ideas and proposals to others. I see my patterns and symptoms smacking me on the face and experience first-hand the unrelenting calls of my soul.

Writing about my experiences helps me clarify things. Speaking vulnerabilities brings me closer to others while making the monster of inadequacy and “not good enough” shrink. I feel less alone…

As I explored ways to convey an idea in a workshop for women I was preparing I reflected…

Art is a varicolored answer to the first line on the canvas. All art begins with an intention, with the search for something unknown that seeks expression. It’s the same with everything in life, until the urge becomes a verb, nothing happens. What we believe or think in itself is nothing, until an action – or the lack of it- determines an outcome.

Here is where the creative process and our story get tangled. Thoughts, beliefs, desires, loves, dance with ideas, instincts, impulses and the uncontrollable need to express. An empty canvas stares at you while you try to make sense of the blurry realm spinning around and overlook the silent presence witnessing it all.


Fear is a master trickster; it can take the colored yarns of dreams, ideas and passions and turn them into a tight knot. Between  “what is and what could be” there is a “neutral space;” the edge between two worlds, a vacuum filled with possibilities challenging us to make choices.

Uncertainty is such an unbearable companion!

If you are like me, the only discernible thing here is the many strategies of disconnection swinging around the place – is too late, too long, too difficult, I should be exercising, this room is such a mess, I forgot to check my mail…you name it! – I spend so much time running away, against and toward the experience, that when I finally make a decision I am completely exhausted or the opportunity flew away.

It does not stop here!

What about the “should’s” and its three horsemen of the apocalypse! Guilt, shame and unworthiness; they are eager to join forces and make our creative anguish a high alert flashing light to avoid taking action at all cost.

Van Gogh said – “If you do nothing, you are nothing.”

If I translate his words into the artistic process and that of life; I shall say that, as a rough drawing becomes a sketch and this a painting; it is through the dedicated work and the incorporation of those fleeting thoughts and insights occurring while working, that a vague original idea consolidates.

Van Gogh advised to keep working no matter what happened. He knew that while our ultimate goal is not clear, or even unknown, it will become clearer as we work and seriously explore. His self-professed goal was to bring the expression of emotion into Modernist painting. The desire to express passion was the focus of van Gogh’s vision; it was the engine of his endeavors. His complex and tumultuous life story could have hindered his legacy; but his soul was bigger than his fears and he is without question the paragon of success in the expression of passion in the arts.

If such a genius went to experiencing the painful anguish and need to search for ways to express his soul; faced rejection and failure and stood tall, who am I, simply mortal, to expect being spared from it?

What I have learned…

Looking Back

I feel I am just taking baby steps in the matter, and yes, I get frustrated and make faces in my inner mirror. However, I know now that there will be a time when I will be able to see the traveled path. That is how we really appreciate the enormous courage of being human and imperfect; when we realize that even broken, terrified or exhausted, we indeed stood up and kept walking before, no matter where or how, we kept walking.

Recognizing the Symptoms

Puppies love to play and chase their tales, they go on circles and get dizzy. Get the picture? So it begins for me! I start jumping from one activity to another and get caught in distracting alibis. I breathe shallowly, move chaotically and feel anxious and mad. I surrender my power to fear and watch a movie, run an errand or read. It lasts as long as I am busy. When I stop… truth looks me in the eye.


There is nothing more dreadful than consciousness when we know what we are doing! This “something” watching us can be really unmerciful. I have discovered, though, that awareness is never as hard as I am when judging myself for my weaknesses and mistakes. I enter this “who -cares, -what- difference –will- it- make”- mode and give away my power to shame and guilt.

Why is belittling and self-deprecation so addictive? What is about light and glittering goodness that make us feel naked and hide?

I bet you have as many answers to these questions as attempts to embrace your humanity. I sure do! The path has been long and winding, but it has finally led me to self-compassion. I know now that when my soul knocks, it triggers my tale-chasing-puppy- inner self. Instead of pulling my hair and scream NOT AGAIN! What is wrong with you? I do my best to remember that something awesome is happening…

I am about to meet my true self and go with my purpose in a date. I know what to expect. I gently allow my inner kid to express her fears and allow her feelings to be. I tell her that is OK, that we all have been there and I will do my best to help her move a step at a time. I remind her we are walking together with a promise of hope and trust, and we shall become better and better at it. One day we will look back and see how much we have accomplished.

Beginner Mind

Known by Zen Buddhism as Shoshin; it refers to having an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when studying a subject, even at an advanced level. We tend to think in sequences, always looking towards what we will be able to do in the future instead of focusing on the next step right now. In doing so, we skip over all the little experiences that color our journey and make it unforgettable. We overlook the fact that falling down, as well as getting up, is part of the learning process.

Beginner’s mind is also known as a “don’t-know-mind.” It is said to be the wisdom of the warrior. It means keeping an open mind and responding according to circumstances, not according to how we assume things should be.

I am guilty of trying to become an expert to soon, or worse, feeling one. This sets me along a traveled path that is closed to Possibility. A  “don’t-know-mind” leaves room for intuition, for the new and adventurous. It is the mind of our kids, one filled with wonder and appreciation for the little miracles of ordinary life.

Hang to the Why

Even an artist often believed to have been “spontaneous” and unpremeditated, had a thoroughly thought and creative deliberation metaphor to help him stay focused. Van Gogh found, and created the element through which he could live; his flame-metaphor. This metaphor allowed him to fully express his burning desire for expression, his conviction concerning the centrality of passion to existence. This belief was as essential to the man as to the artist, thus the shape of a flame became his distinctive brush stroke, a signature.

As Van Gog understood; this visionary circle of the simultaneously invented and the discovered; is a dance between the soul and the mind, the ability to think both, consciously and subconsciously. Is the territory of the WHY, the only force powerful enough to navigate uncertainty and the unknown, the force closest to our Higher Source.

We all need our personal metaphor, the unique poetry of our soul expressed in a vision and whispering: “Grow, grow.”

I have been exploring mine. I have no idea how being an ambassador for beauty and meaning expresses itself in the day-to day life. I am not sure what my brushstroke looks like or even if I have gotten one…

I shall rely in our shared humanity and trust, as he did; that passion will find its way home, and the unrelenting pull of purpose will continue to ask for embracing my call.

In the meanwhile I shall repeat unceasingly: A.C.T. – action changes things.


“I dream of painting and then I paint my dream.”

Vincent van Gogh


Flying-Puppy“In the flush of love’s light, we dare be brave. And suddenly we see that love costs all we are, and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.”
Maya Angelou



How many times we have been told that we choose our thoughts and even how we feel. It has been hard for me to deal with that notion as I tend to be in a “longing” kind of mood as old as me. I wake every morning, having to remind myself to count my blessings – I slept well, I have a bed, birds are singing, it is a rainy day, (I love those). I follow my morning routine, get a coffee and go back to bed to read or write about my impressions and meditate (or at least try!).

The grey clouds in the sky seem the stuffing of an old silver bed cover with glowing patches here and there. As they move slowly, I think to myself – this would past too – What is “this”? That is the question.

When I was a kid, I remember praying for enthusiasm. I was a very responsible and stubborn kid; I spend hours studying, practicing and perfecting whatever is that I was up to. Even then, though, I felt as my inspiration and persistence were fueled by a “heavy” passion, defiance or even a sense of duty. It was hard work and struggle imposed from within, a painful mix of resilience and hope going along with an endless zest to uncover the truth.

The truth here is a very wide concept, made of the many existential questions I have asked myself since childhood. Answers have come and gone, dressed up in experiences, books, therapy, studies, relationships and artistic endeavors. There have been moments of absolute pleasure, infatuation and recognition, as well as despair, sadness and giving in.

I was told once I was an “intense” person. The comment was made in the context of a conflicted relationship and intended to point out the “villain” flaw responsible for the problem. It crushed me… not because I thought it was the root of the problem, but because it was true. I felt that the inner world I had been immersing myself to find answers was being erased at a stroke and I would never be loved…

That inner world was loaded with blurred and strange “things” exerting a strong pull on me. Some were indescribable, others painful and there were those that only could fit into the category of “magic.” I felt busted! The inner attic of my heart and soul could be a mess, but It was a mess I was exploring with the timeless memories of our humanity and the promise of continuity.

Today, I can acknowledge with a smile, that I am indeed intense. Nothing goes in the bucket of indifference to me. I experience every good or bad mood, event, discovery, emotion and wonder in all its beautiful force. Sometimes is damn difficult, too much to bear for a vulnerable and breakable human being! Add to that, my inner critic’ tendency to beat myself out for taking in that much, and the “inadequate-self” who jumps into “fixing mode” right away.

There are those quiet days, when I sit in bed and ask again – it is a new day, shouldn’t my soul be rising as the sun?

I think of enthusiasm then, and face the culprit behind its disappearance; love. The love I have a lifetime craving from the outside because it is so hard to find within.

Circumstances are bad measures for our worth; it is so easy to get caught in others’ definitions of success. It is also common to get trapped in our story and edit those scenes that speak of a different world; a world that asks for self-love and the courage to show up and let myself be seen.

Perhaps enthusiasm is just the result of an unshakable faith and trust in the WHO I really am and my gifts; joined with the willingness to believe that no matter how “out of context” life seems to be, the Universe is plotting to do me good.

I keep going through this process of learning to relax and flow. It is a choice I have to make every day (or even every minute if I can remember to turn the autopilot off).

The sun is rising and my soul is sleepy…
Let compassion and acknowledgement carry her into the world today.
Let a choice define the moment as an adventure,
And walk the path with “How amazing!” lenses in the senses and
A grateful and open mind,
Miracles shall find me…

And you my dear reader, how does enthusiasm reveals to you?


Image Credit –

The Wheel of Life

“To banish imperfection is to destroy expression, to check exertion, to paralyze vitality.”
― John Ruskin, The Stones of Venice


Loser shame…this remark shook me deeply today as I was trying to find relief for the feeling emanating by a small event on Friday’s night.

I realized I have been dealing all my life with shame; haunted by the fragility of my shell and clinging to the silent hope that it will end someday. I cannot accept my own mistakes and imperfections because it is like opening the door to the monster of “they were right;” I am a loser, a small being trying to play in the arena of the great talents and winners, with no other weapon than love and will.

How can I enter a world of “glamour and elite” if an unmerciful spotlight – as those in the towers of a maximum security prison – is chasing my every move, threatening to expose me as a fake!

Glamour? Elite? What in the heck am I talking about?

It is hell to step out and open your heart completely naked to others. It is harder when you secretly feel that you do not have the right to do it, you feel like pretending to be touched by the Gods and to be able to read their magic code. It is a game of life and death, all or nothing.

You have been accumulating the expertise and resilience needed to battle over years; it should be ready by now!

What is wrong with you?

It takes just a tiny moment, less than a second to understand you are not going to make it that day, is all blurred, lost, and you would have to face the audience and say, I am sorry, I cannot remember and leave the stage.

Yep. I messed up playing at an event.

It happens to all, not a big deal, people tell you and you smile and agree on the outside, while the inside is going through your toolkit of self- improving techniques and adult intelligent attitudes trying to shake off the empowered loser and the shame of not being perfect.

Yes, it happens! But it happened to you, and your entire story comes down, crushing you and speaking the many voices you tried to ignore while growing up, turning a life calling into an obsession or worst simple stubbornness.

Self-doubt emerges tall and strong. Back to the past, the starting point!

There are indeed Dragons living within…

At the moment I stood tall, went back to my seat and clapped and cheered the next player. Somebody in the audience asked the presenter if I could play another thing. I listen with horror.

The weird thing is that he said something in the line of – we know, or have been told (not sure) that she plays amazingly beautiful, perhaps she could play something else?…

Back to my old story! I don’t have anything else! Caught with the hands in the Cookie Jar again! You should have something else!

The school director asked me if I had the score, which I did! So it was settled that I will play again after the “Star” finish his presentation (this said with respect and admiration, I love the kid and is amazing to see how big he is in the literal and metaphorical sense of the word). I was actually embarrassed to play after him and to have a “breakdown” with him present…

The night went on. IF this was my old story, I would have left crying and completely distraught; this time I danced, sung and play the Cuatro (Venezuelan instrument) till the night was over. I was a life force life. I have to admit I am not sure if it was making up for something or just because I allowed myself to be seen and my shame to transpire openly and dissolve into my other selves.

When the time came to leave, a couple of women came to me. One of them told me that she had almost cried. That it was so emotional what I have played. I thought it was the first one, which went well! But to my astonishment, it was the one I had to read! Both told me how much I have touched them. I thank them for bringing me “back home” to a place of worthiness and compassion.

Still, I have been having real trouble to let this run through my system and heal the many wounds around my right to be a pianist.

During the weekend I have been moving around followed by the unrelenting dark cloud of failure. I have been turning my eyes away, focusing on making sense of the all the drama around a tiny experience than nobody but me seems to be fixed on!

Why is that, why do we cling to the horrors and overlook the gifts?
It is just me?

I imagine people commenting, whispering and even enjoying my “stumbling”. I see myself small and isolated. – “The world will not look at me the same. I just gave up my cover!”

Can you begin to understand the power of a story based on the belief that I am not good enough or worthy of the passion and wonder I feel for music and the way it touches me?

As I write these words in an attempt to atone for my weaknesses and imperfection, I can see clearly the exaggerated, almost hilarious script running through my head! Are you kidding me! No wonder why you are terrorized by and feel trapped by the gifts you love and give sense and purpose to your life.

It is such an unhealthy hate-love relationship constantly been fed by my inability to accept the fragility of life, to overcome my need of external validation and the fear to actually realize that “I am nothing!”

How much time of my life am I willing to sacrifice in the name of a personal image build upon fear, rejection and the “should’s” that will make me feel loved?

How can I expect to be loved for who I am, if I cannot love myself?

It is a long journey of compassion and innocence, a true leap of faith, the one I am taking to meet the girl, woman and soul filled with visions of magic, tenderness and amazement. The fragile creature who stands alone in the midst of her hopes and dreams, her strengths and vulnerabilities, and doing everything in her hands to be loved to feel worthy; is summoning the courage to move through shame and fear, self-doubt and criticism and stand up for her humanity.

Yes, I am afraid…

Afraid of:

—losing my way.
—not being able to honor those invisible forces pushing within my soul and heart, asking me the last self-sacrifice, to show up raw, naked complete imperfect and to trust that somehow the light in me will fickler and connect with others.

I am afraid…

—that I will ever be able to grasp and express how unbearably and beautiful is to be human, to love what all your heart, to dream the impossible and to bear a life that does not match my expectations.
—to admit I stop breathing every time the thought “I will never make it” enters my mind.
—the feeling that whatever purpose or heroic path the Universe entrusted me with, it forgot to bestow me with the necessary weapons (magic or not) for the task.

What if I am just a shell of strength and accomplishments hidden a weary pantomime plenty of losses and failures?

I am just a human being admitting how hard is to be one; how much I long my life to be meaningful and easier. How much I dread to show up and be rejected. How much I long to belong and be remembered… to know that I truly exist and there is reason for me to be here.

I long for someone to believe in me, even when I give in and turn my back to life; someone who knows what I am going through and points at the sun, the stars or the bright moon on a dark night…
Someone different than me…

I want so much for my students, for the people I love, for the world as a whole, for nature and the future!

How can this simple and small woman aspire to inspire others to keep the light glowing if she is fighting to keep her own coal burning?

Perhaps just admitting here that although my life might not be the example of strength, accomplishment and courage I ask for it to be; I wouldn’t trade any of those invisible moments – sometimes tragic, sometimes magic – when I enter the sacred and touch the infinite… Those fleeting moments when my soul and I seem to walk as one and I know all is right…

There is such love and surrender… I then understand why a Higher Intelligence would like to become human and experience life; why unlimited divine sparks take refuge in mortal temples and patiently await to bloom.

For that,
—I am willing to risk to be seen without disguises.
—I am willing to move back on stage to voice the wonders and beauty of the extraordinary and the ordinary dwelling in the soul – mine, yours, the world’s…

For that,
—I willingly sacrifice my dreams of perfection, the ego’s shell of “having it all figure out” and offer the imperfect and brutally honest song of a human being committed to just BE…

Rumi said…

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

May I find the poetry in it,
May you find the poetry in it,
May all living beings find the poetry in it…




“It’s the little details that are vital. Little things make big things happen.”
John Wooden


Yesterday, during my piano practice, I heard a noise and stepped out of the cubicle to see what was going on. The day was fading away and it was already dark inside. I walked towards the door, my mind lost in thoughts and my eyes fixed on the keys hanging on the door. I was about to turn the key in the lock when something made me look up! I stood in awe, completely taken by the scene in front of me.

The walls and door in the small entrance hall of the music school are made of glass. Through them, dark pinks, oranges and purples were contained and framed as one of those glorious watercolor sunsets painted by Turner. This time though, the painter was Nature; the vibrancy of composition arrested my soul and the ephemeral of the moment made me realize how much I forget to notice…

I seem to be living a turning point in life that is not yet clear about where is that it is turning to. It moves restlessly and slowly testing my endurance and faith. I feel like a ball tossed in a box, randomly rolling inside while my invisible carrier firmly walks a destination unknown to me.

I tell myself that I need to focus, to get deliberated and stop the madness, the problem is that I am already focused and have been for so long that has become a habit.

It is not the first time I have noticed, that I have not been noticing but those pieces in my life regarding what needs to be fixed about myself or my reality. Completely absorbed in the many things I have to work out and the how, I have overlooked what is precious, what is worthy of stopping and be grateful for; I have run over the person I already am…

I stand for all that is noble and beautiful, for the greatness in us and the other, for the magic of nature and the mysteries of life and the Universe; and still I have been a bully. I have bullied myself, shaming my weaknesses and lack of results and diminishing the courageous achievements of a little inner girl who has done everything in her power to keep her truth alive.

As many, I am surrounded by “facts and reasons” and navigating the overwhelming waters of comparison pointing its finger towards my enlarged failures while my accomplishments get dwarfed and vanish in the realm of “not important”.

Not anymore! I have decided to lean in on faith and live the chaos and lack of answers as an adventure. I am terrified and move up and down the line of “what-the-heck-do-it-any-way” and “what the-hell-are-you-doing” uncountable times during a day.

Nevertheless, I have experience tiny moments of pure joy, a serene tenderness and confidence, and bit by bit I conquer fear and small successes come across. Yes, I am calling them for what they are; the result of talent, courage, effort and the surrendering to something which I am acknowledging as bigger than me and allowing it to do as it pleases.

I am willing to trust that there will be a time and space when things shall come together and I would see the path ahead. For now I just see myself as a beginner staying with “what is” the best I can, practicing loving and accepting myself no matter what, and focusing on noticing small things. Miracles shall happen!


Be aware,
They are already happening…



Image Credit: The scarlet sunset, (1833) | Painting | Watercolor and Gouache