Now and today

This is the first Saturday I spent by myself. And what do I do? Watch a chick flick. You know now what this post is going to be about, right? Let's see where I can take you.

Suddenly, my computer's internet is back functioning thanks to my new house-mate, who is very good at fixing simple, yet unknown computer stuff. I am now enjoying regular internet, after half a year without it at home. So after 6 months, I'm back in this beautiful blog thing to let me express what is going on in my mind for a few minutes.

I'm glad of what I have. God has given me an amazing box of chocolates, which I'm still re-opening every day and wondering what Forest wondered. I will write this in a story like way, since I just saw something like that.

There is a boy with a broken heart. Big deal. He doesn't feel he's that bad, but he is: no job, no home, no car, no money, no girl, not in his country... but he's not looking towards all of that, just a few things at a time. He misses her, not the country or the car or the job. But she wasn't going to come back, even when he wished for it for a long time. He took off and changed without trying to, and became a better guy. Now, he has a job, a car, a place, and a girl. The country, he's as open as before to make any country his own. After all, he believes firmly that his country is not in this world.

There is a girl with a broken heart. Big deal. She doesn't show others how bad she feels, but she is not that well: not an 'I'm-happy' job, not a 'great place' to live, no boy... and she's looking towards those thing all at the same time. She misses something, still not clear what. But that or those things are not quite going to make her happy. She takes off work and changed trying to do so, and became a better girl. Now, she has another job that even when it is not an "I'm happy' job, its a people job; she has the same not 'great place', but is now full of another energy; and a boy. Putting pieces together, she's clear that God has plans for her and this boy, so is a matter of letting Him work.

Now, here's the fun part. I'm in love with that girl. I want to let her be what she is and help her to be happy with it. I want to clear her way towards being happy with herself. Most of all, I want to share with her the love God has gave both of us, the gifts he gives us everyday, in a sentence: I want to share my box of chocolates with her.

So this is my plan: first, I will pray that we learn to respect each other's lives, which includes ideas, interests, way of being an ways of addressing things, character, sense of humor, plans, relationship with others, friends/family approach, body, etc. Second, I am letting her know that she is gorgeous, amazing, astonishing, beautiful, sexy, intelligent, interesting, sensitive, tough, caring, fun, funny, enjoyable, and faithful. Third, I'm trying to give her the space to be herself and think as she wants, but I'm trying to influence her into thinking positively, wanting what God's wants, and smiling at life more often. My plan has many other pieces, which are not necessarily happening on purpose, but are surely parallel.

Where am I going? Well, after watching a chick flick I don't know exactly where I'm going. I just know that I would like to help her love the box of chocolates she's been given and embrace it with all her love. That way her job will become a good job, her place an exquisite loft, her boy a darling friend, and her love a supernatural one. I'm praying for that. She has to know that, as they say in the movie, we need to leave greatness alone.

On the 13th day of ... my true love said to me: LOVE.

Blending openings and closings, I submerge myself into the unknown certainty of his knowledge. He knows it all, so I'll just trust him. I'll just pedal and enjoy the panorama. When it is time to go through rough trails, I'll just pedal and trust that he has control, not me.

After several cycles of letargic commodities, I open my eyes today with a different view. The trees were brighter, the leaves were more colorful, the people were friendlier, and the breeze was fresher. All was setted up, I don;t know how all those things came into play, but what a day! He is everywhere and takes care of everything. And I pray to him that the door that just opened may be his door, not mine. That it may be THE door that I have been looking to open and cross by for a long time, and not just another door I invented or found through my journeys as the 'driver' of my tendom. That it is his relationship, his work, his plan, his steps the ones being fulfilled and not mine, hers, ours. Why?

I miss many things. And I have been missing in many things. But I trust that I've been found, I've been rerouted, and I've joined the 'club'. Continuously I've carried my own weight, as if I could or knew how to. Here, now, I put it in his shoulders and join others in helping him carry the whole load, which is very light as many of us are carrying it. Help me do it completely, deattach myself completely from myself, and attach this completely to you. It is worth it.

Apart me from wanting to hold that fragance; from grabing this memoir of the closeness as my dream; from holding the sound of sweetness, simpleness, and logic on my mind. Let it be you who hold all this, and your smell, your memory, your music what I live. Let this be your relationship, not ours.

A new door openned and with it comes the assertion: 'I put my trust in you, who already is holding us in your hands, padding us through your trail'.

"Dios lo bendiga y la virgen me lo haga un santo!"

Who's up for change?

Imagine: after 3 years of hope, a woman finds her fiance, who doesn't remember a thing, after war. After a year of hope, a man finds his future wife. No words were spoken. The comfortable silence spoke every word needed. And you will not be able to imagine such a thing without knowing that to imagine is to keep hope. She is alive. She is smiling again. She is in LA. How would the future husband know these without knowing a single word from her? Life takes us to unexpected places. On day you are on a train crossing a war zone border on a remote desert; the same day, a year later you are up at 3:32am writing the word hope with silence language. It is for man to decide what to do, but for God to take man to it. It is simple math: you give, you recieve; you take you shall give back.

Sacrifice = love = joy = faith = giving = hope

Hoy, 27 de agosto de 2010, día de santa Mónica, propongo una pequeña reflexión sobre lo que ella sufrió. Comenzando por sus 55 años de sufrimiento y terminando con la conversión de su esposo y de su hijo, san Agustín.

Vivió en oración constante, ofreciendo pequeños sacrificios diarios y confiando que Dios obra cuando y como El decide. Su esposo tenía el carácter más fuerte y explosivo de su pueblo, aunque gracias a Dios y al silencio de Mónica, nunca le pegó. Era atéo y no soportaba verla rezando. Al final de su vida, tras años de oración por parte de santa Mónica, se convirtió, se bautizó y murió católico un año mas tarde.

San Agustín extendió ese sufrir hasta el final de la vida de santa Mónica. Era atéo, llevaba una vida llena de múltiples pecados y en general era la gran causa de la insesante oración de su madre. Llegó a pertenecer a una secta que negaba que el mundo fuese creado por Dios, sino por el diablo, así que su madre lo sacó de la casa. Tras años de hacer sufrir a su madre, san Agustín leyó un pasaje de san Pablo y tras conversaciones con su madre, decidió hacerse católico y bautizarse. Fue tal su conversión que es considerado uno de los solamente 33 doctores de la Iglesia católica. Santa Mónica descansó en paz poco despues de la conversión de su hijo.

Luego de este resumen, les aseguro que mi deseo de ponerme las pilas y empezar a rezar a diario aun no vence la pereza. Pero eso si, siendo hoy el día de las que llevan por nombre Mónica, puedo decir: felicidades a todas. Como dice mi abuelito: "Hay Monique, Monique; todas las Monique son especiales...". Yo le secundo.

August again

Looking at your smile, I see your eyes of beauty,

Telling something about the sweetness of chocolate.

Chicago in the cold, a souvenir is what it takes for me to return to this same place,

one August afternoon I visited with you all over my mind.

My path was the same, the process, partially the same, but only one thing changed:

you were there with me at this time, non other than you.

Is August again. A beautiful afternoon, a few cities south of that place. Your smile hits me harder than many other afternoons, but this time, only this time, I’m making a thing different. I am passing the image, changing the picture, and combining a few of those amazing moments captured just days before the end of us, and putting it on perspective. You were there, with your amazing smile, and I was there, holding the pieces of what we were. Only one thing remains, only this picture.

In a second rocks stumble on my and I’m looking at myself passing countless images, all leading to you, captured in a moment of a frugal smile. In the depths of your conscience a crude reality was about to blow, but in the surface, only crisped waves advised of what was coming. Me, a dreamer, a wonderer in a land of possibilities, an explorer of patience, that of yours, only waited for the storm to be released, not realizing its potential. Here I am again, sitting in a room fool of memories, on another August.

Someone once said: “Let’s wait until August to see what happens.” That someone is crying it out once again, receiving the weight of boxes of memories, carrying a wait so strenuous that it is piling up on my back, leaving scars, sweat, and dirt all over me. The smile, the eyes, the hugs, crushing all at once over my heart, waiting for an answer that hasn’t come; waiting. And again I look back and see us standing on glass, a city underneath, about to fall, on the best day of the year. Where was I that I didn't see it coming? Perhaps, sleeping in your arms, waiting for you to wake up from the floor of a train station at one in the morning? Was I still in the ship sailing to a paradise island, faking cave pictures at an old pier with a model on top? I do know where I was. I was, at that particular moment, gluing down pieces of memories, just as I do now, in the 110^th floor of a tower. I have never been a clean gluer, but I have spent years doing it, night after night, after night. And today is one of those nights.

Involved in a night of reflections, watching ourselves in a giant cloud, we were once again smiling.

Comparing voices, smiles, situations, and places, what we didn’t do? Invincible is not our word, but it could generate a motto for a new chapter. I hear laughs coming out of the walls, a soft shade coming through a window, a ton of moments passing through my eyes, and softly, gently, magnificently sited you; your eyes half opened, your smile always in its place. Not a tear, not a breath, nothing could change it. Month after month a push towards freedom has been missed; would this be the month it wins its adepts? Maybe.

I have to get up, I have to leave and stop looking at it; but how? It is just there, inviting me to see it again, to live that end of the summer of traditions. August again. How heavy are you always.

Decir adiós es liberarnos.

¿Qué tiene de positivo?

Una despedida no tiene que ser negativa. ¿Cuántas cosas ganas? ¿Cuánto peso te quitas de encima? ¿Cuán cómodo, libre, posibilitado te vuelves al despedirte?

¿Dónde quedan la añoranza, el recuerdo, la soledad? ¿Cómo combatirlas? ¿Debo combatirlas o sería más natural, más saludable y lógico dejarlas desarrollarse y que tomen su rumbo a costas de extender el tiempo que dura la aparente liberalización?

4 de abril de 2010.

Confiado en el poder que Dios nos ha demostrado y del que poco conocemos, menciono una palabra que El me ha permitido experimentar de diversas formas y ayer y hoy, durante (antes) la vigilia pascual, la misa de resurrección me llegó al momento más necesitado: AMISTAD.

El sacrificio más grande que se puede realizar es dar la vida por otro. Sufrir por quien uno ama más con tal de hacer la voluntad de Dios, eso no se define fácilmente, pero se ve en quienes dejan atrás mucho y luchan por alcanzar eso.

Uniendo ambos conceptos, amistad y sufrir (sacrificio), llego a lo que ahora entiendo El quiere de mi. Mónica, mi linda, querida y amadísima enamorada, a la que tanto extraño, por la que llevo meses esperando y desesperándome y creciendo y llorando y aprendiendo; Mónica es mi amiga. Mi amiga, no novia, no futura esposa, sino amiga. Nos une una amistad inmensa, bendecida por Dios con un bagage inmenso de memorias, sicatrices, historias, errores, alegrías, entregas, paciencia y sacrificios. Monica Dykas es mi amiga.

Ahora, ¿qué he de sacrificar? Pues claramente, la responsabilidad de una vida con ella, de tener una familia juntos, de ayudar a otros juntos, de compartir el amor que Dios nos regala el uno con el otro y de repartir ese amor a otros.

Entonces, ¿qué es lo que quiero? Pues quisiera que ella me de una oportunidad, que me deje amarla de nuevo de una nueva manera y que ambos decidamos unidos que es lo que queremos, lo que haremos y como lo lograremos. ¿Posible? Solo en Dios confío.

Pero, ¿que harás? Pues puedo seguir esperando y no dar un paso adelante o dar el paso y esperar si ella reacciona. Pero sin ella, no voy a estancarme. Así que estoy listo, luego de una cuaresma intensa y llena del amor de Dios, para pasar al siguiente paso, a mis 26 años de edad. Mónica es solo mi amiga y nada más. Sacrificando la posibilidad, la esperanza de que ella me de esa oportunidad, doy el paso que se debo dar: voy a seguir a Dios. Eso morir para volver a nacer, así que ahora voy a morir a mi voluntad, lo que me da la gana de hacer, ahora, hoy, muere. Trabajar para El, ser su seguidor y oír su voz son mi prioridad constante. Así que debo seguirle y eso haré.

Así que, ¿ella es sólo una amiga? Sí, nada más. Ella no quiere estar conmigo, no puede seguir sintiéndose triste, angustiada, molesta y vacía. Así que es hora de que ambos busquemos seguir la voluntad del Señor. Eso haremos ambos. Creo que El me está pidiendo que por fin lo siga completamente, luego de 13 años evitándolo. Creo que es hora de dejar el miedo inmenso que tengo a dejarme amar totalmente por El y debo dejar lo que más quiero (Mónica), por El; lo que tengo “seguro” (mi vida, profesión, planes futuros e ideas de futuro) para seguir lo que El quiere que haga.

¿Estás listo? No sé, pero como le dije a Mónica una noche de febrero en Tijuana, “a veces no podemos esperar a estar listos para hacer algo, por que no nos damos cuenta de que sí estamos listos, solo que no lo vemos y solo debemos lanzarnos y tratar, confiando SIEMPRE en El". Fácil de decir; difícil de hacer.

Por lo tanto, ¿te vas a lanzar a seguirlo? El me hizo nuevo, me convirtió y yo quiero seguirlo y hacer de mi vida una llena de El, no un sin-sentido largo, de años. El me va a alistar, a preparar y a moldear. Yo quiero dejarme, así que es hora de seguirle y dejar mis viejas costumbres y actos a un lado. Ser bueno y más; ser fiel y más; ser su hijo amado y saber que Dios esta conmigo siempre. Con su ayuda no estaré triste a mis 48 años preguntándome que hice con mi vida, sino que se la daré a El para que El la rehaga.

Dios nos proteja, guie y ayude siempre, en el nombre de su hijo, Amen.