The Centennial Edition!

For blog #100, I asked readers to share what writing to heal means to them in 100 words or less. Thank you Lindy, Jerome and Kim. Your words are a gift to all of us! And thank you to every person who has supported this journey, and in that support, who has supported me. 

I coupled the words below with a musical piece, "Weaving" by Connor Chee. I recommend playing his piece while you read the words below.

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Writing to Heal to me means writing from the soul.  Journaling is

a way to cope,

a way to address sorrow

a way to remember joy

a way to focus on wonderful memories and ongoing love. 

Without journaling, some of these thoughts would stay locked inside and perhaps overlooked, forgotten or even repressed. 

Writing to heal is indeed that; a process the involves healing and growing with new strengths discovered.

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Writing to Heal means finding whichever artistic medium speaks to us and using it to uncover and understand the truths of the world. If we all took the time to do this in a genuine way geared towards discovery and growth, we could end up healthier and happier as a society. Much of the division around is comes from each person living in their own silo of self-truth and we often forget to truly listen and empathize with the others who have different views.

 

My challenge to myself and all of us… 

Let’s listen to each other in a non-judgmental way.

Let’s accept that diversity of viewpoints is actually an asset and we don’t need to convince everyone to think like we do.  

In this same direction, we can use writing and the various arts as ways to express, share and grow together. 

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Writing to heal provides a moment to reflect on current events without biased judgement, to focus on amazingly strong individuals and their contributions to our society.

Writing to heal is a reminder that humanity can be about love, compassion and respect, or simply the quiet reflection on movement or nature and the lessons we learn from all of this.

Writing to heal reminds me of the good that remains in this world and that I am part of a beautiful larger community.

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writing

2

heal all that ails mind, soul, and spirit.

one pen-stroke at a time

we place words gently upon a paper, a simple act

of love

of resilience

of testifying

“I am”

“We are”

“Beauty is restored”

Life wisdom from the tomato garden

I needed a moment of quiet, and thus found myself in our garden amidst cherry tomato madness.

I picked, ate a few, put a few others into bowls.

I listened to what the tomato garden has to teach us - here is what I heard:

Life is more abundant than we give it credit for.

Life is calmer and quieter than we notice.

Nature is never in a hurry, yet everything is accomplished. (Tomatoes helped me remember this one from Lao Tzu).

Even when you think there is nothing left to harvest, there are always hidden treasures just out of view.

Sweetness from the vine speaks to the soul (in a way that processed foods/sugars do not).

It's not how many you pick, but how fully you appreciate the moments spent picking.

The strong smell of the tomato vine and bites from the mosquitos can distract our gaze from the fruit of life. Maybe they are there to strengthen our resolve...

Even if a few accidentally fall into your mouth, instead of into the bowl you were sent outside to fill, no one needs to know. (Wipe your mouth before going inside)

We meticulously prepare things as rectangular raised beds, but life grows un-deterred around such arbitrary confines. How we respond to this beautiful chaos, not how well we made the raised beds, determines our ability to embrace life’s gifts.

Our raised beds are barely visible amidst tomato madness

Finally, a few bits of wisdom offered by my each of my children, when asked what they think the garden teaches us:

If they don’t come off easily, that means they aren’t ready.

The green ones are sour.

You will never always get the one you most want the first time.

There is always more.

A Letter to our Pandemic Selves

“The pandemic is over.”

Those words from President Biden in a “60 Minutes” interview last week are a bit startling to all of us.

He added in that interview, “We still have a problem with Covid. We’re still doing a lot of work on it. But the pandemic is over.”

I am less interested in debating the science or politics of this proclamation, and more focused on what that means for you and me to say the pandemic is in our rear-view mirror.

Are we ready to let go of a pandemic mindset?

And what does ‘letting go’ actually mean?

How has the pandemic affected our connections with those around us?

Are there habits we have learned in the pandemic that we now need to un-learn in a post-pandemic world?

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I decided to write a letter to “Pandemic Anthony” as a way to answer some of these questions, and I encourage you to do the same for yourself.

 

Pandemic Anthony,

        I am waving good-bye. Thanks for 2+ years in which you did the best you could to make sense of it all, trying to live fully even when COVID made that really challenging. I bet you remember when even running on the ditches became a game of avoidance as people went out of their way to move far away from one another. Do you remember getting yelled at for violating folks’ 6-foot bubble as you passed them on the trails, wearing a mask and all? I am sure all of this did affect you and now, as we wave goodbye to you, it is a chance to try to notice how to re-engage fully. I know this has affected whether I give hugs or am open to receiving them. I know it has turned a part of me into being wary of being in close proximity with others, but I now need to push that comfort zone and not let this become an excuse to dis-connect.

Post-Pandemic Anthony will need to do this with care for others, knowing that all of us carry trauma from the last years that is going to change how we interact with one another in the next years. Where is that space for us to have conversations about how COVID has affected us and how to navigate these changes, how to heal together? How is Post-Pandemic Anthony going to create space for himself, with his family and with his community to do this vital healing work? Wait, I thought I was supposed to be answering questions, not asking them…

Pandemic Anthony, I want to share gratitude and love before I let you go. I could look at you and these years as “lost” but that would ignore all of the good you helped bring to my life. I want to validate the ways you stood strong and donned PPE to serve COVID patients. I appreciate the efforts you made to create community in a new landscape, never letting go of the importance of bringing people together, virtual or otherwise. I honor the loss you and the rest of humanity endured during COVID.

I need to love you Pandemic Anthony, and will make time and space to do so. I know that this is the only way to let you go and to begin the next journey.

With Love,

Post-Pandemic Anthony

Fun with Inedible Berries

The neighborhood children, including a few of my own, went on a bike ride. A chance for them to play together amidst our busy lives where neighbors whiz by each other, interactions limited to waving from the car to one another.

I was deemed responsible enough to chaperone the trip.

We voted on where to go and they decided we should head to the park.

We arrived, parking our bikes at the playground area of the park.

I knew my role as a chaperone. I was to leave them alone to play, now that my part of transporting them here was complete.

I sat and took a few deep breaths, wondering if we were now at the age where playgrounds would cease to provide the joyful exploration they had when these kids were younger.

I looked up to see that the children had another idea entirely.

They were huddled next to a tree with inedible berries, spontaneously creating a game in which they would each have 5 lives and would try to hit each other with the berries. Eat hit took away a life. Influenced by video games? Probably. In my mind, it was like paintball without the messiness.

For the next 30 minutes, I watched as the game progressed. Additional rules were proposed. The group figured out how to include many different age and athletic levels to have a fair shot at winning. They grumbled when I said it was time to go home. As a chaperone, ending the fun is one of your core duties.

Even though we shower our children with technology and all sorts of gadgets, their imaginations remain their best tool for play. Give a child dirt, sand, a stick, or some inedible berries and they naturally go to work making play happen.

Adults, here is our mission today, taking the kids’ lead:

1) Get to a park or similarly serene place, leaving your phone and all other technology behind.

2) Find inedible berries or something else that you can enjoy as a kid would – feel its texture, look at its fine details

3) (Optional) Gather random adults within earshot and propose the game of “throw the berries at each other”

Arlene's Journey

Writing as a way to process

Writing as a way to create community.

Writing as a way to speak truths.

Writing as a way to speak our own truth.

Writing to heal.

 

The journey has been a beautiful one, 30 months long. With a group of people who have created their own space through this blog. A few contemplating writing their own books as a result.

Our sister Arlene Espinoza-Armijo invoked the Writing to Heal energy in a heartfelt post last week. To me, it was a moment that made me realize that the larger purpose for this project and blog is to inspire others to find space of their own. To empower others to find their voice and then use it. And today is a chance for me to step aside and let her voice ring through this medium.

Arlene and her husband Jesse are an amazing couple who serve our ABQ community relentlessly, have been trying to have a child for some time. Let me stop there, and instead let Arlene’s words do the talking…show your love and support by posting a comment on the blog!

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This past month has been one of the hardest, most revealing, and affirming months ever. I celebrated a birthday, I launched new products into the world with my business partner, created events, traveled, spent time with amazing humans and heard their stories, watched my nieces and nephews grow and play sports, ran a ton of miles, and @jessearmijo & I experienced a miscarriage.

We have been fighting to grow our family for what feels like an eternity now and like so many #fertility stories ours hit a bump and left me feeling like I might not get up this time. I’ve grappled with sharing this so publicly for a while now, but as we’ve navigated the rocky terrain of grief, I’ve realized, that these types of stories need to be shared. We need to normalize talking about #fertility & #miscarriages & #grief & #therapy with our families, friends, and community. And not gloss over it or pay attention to these real-life realities when a celebrity shares their truth or when laws threaten our safety. These experiences are part of our intricate, complicated, and beautiful lives, therefore deserving of space and dialogue.

As someone who prides myself on honesty & authenticity, and lives for connection with others - I cannot hide behind the shadow of my current reality, my grief, my complicated yet abundantly beautiful life, continuing to smile and act like things are a-okay! Because that would be a lie and that would be inauthentic to who I am.

So, I am here, sharing my vulnerable truth. Hoping that in these sentences those who feel heartbroken, sad, misunderstood, and disappointed will know that your stories, your sadness, and your truth, are allowed to take up space. You don’t have to push down the hard stuff to accommodate others - feel what you need to and reach out to others for support.

Life is hard and can be messy but keep putting one foot in front of the next and breathe. I am holding space for you and me - and if you ever need a friend to sit with you in the messy parts, I am here. 🤍

All my love.
#writingtoheal

Becoming American

We arrived at the Albuquerque Convention Center on a recent Friday morning.

It was a big day for the Kandie family. Janet and Solomon are amazing people who give their energy toward our Albuquerque community – Janice as a nurse and Solomon as an IT guru who works for our city.

Both had worked diligently for over twenty years as Kenyans toward American citizenship. Janice received her citizenship a few months earlier and today was Solomon’s turn. As an accomplished marathon runner, this process was truly his biggest test of endurance.

In typical government speech, the letter to Solomon read:

Walking in, there was an incredible energy in the building.

Languages from across the world being spoken, a beautiful symphony.

Families large and small gathered to similarly mark the end of a long journey toward becoming American.

Some wore attire from their homelands proudly. Others has USA emblazoned gear.

(A funny moment was showing up to surprise Solomon dressed in African dashiki while he dressed in a suit)

I found myself filled with joy as I thought of how each of these individuals have overcome hardships; In their homelands, and right here in the U.S., each of them had to overcome so much to be here.

I thought of the amazing amount of support that each of them needed, from family to legal representation, to make this day a reality.

Solomon is waving his flag as the ceremony begins

I also faced some tough questions:

What does being American mean to me?

Why do I not feel the patriotism that these people in front of me do?

Why do I not feel as proud of my country as I once did?

If I traveled abroad, would I be proud to tell people the country I come from?

Why do I take for granted the un-earned privilege that comes with being a U.S. Citizen?

How do I use my U.S. citizenship to improve the lives of others?

 

I wonder if those questions are meaningful for you, and if so, how we go about answering them for ourselves and together.

I have reflected since that day on how I can become more positive toward my country and the un-realized ideals on which it stands. Recognizing the privileges I have as a U.S. citizen on a regular basis, thinking of people like the Kandies who work for decades just to be counted in this group.

I think my patriotism is expressed more in “we can do better” and finding out how to make it so, and for me those are more important than waving an American flag or wearing red, white and blue gear.

I am convinced that reflecting on what becoming American means for those of us who are U.S. citizens is just as relevant as it was for those in the Convention Center ceremony that day.

Friends of the family from the local running community presented a cake for the 

Kandie family later that evening. A long race was finally done/won!

Revolt Runners

342 years ago today, the most important run ever to take place in this country culminated in the Pueblo Revolt. August 10th, 1680.

This was a run for survival. It was a run to unify peoples who had been subjected to colonizer's violence.

The runners were from the Pueblos of current day New Mexico and were to run to each of the other Pueblo communities with a message that there would be a revolt against the Spanish who had inflicted violence, slavery and horrific acts over the previous 140 years since their arrival.

A cord with knots was given as they arrived, with instructions that each morning one of the knots was to be untied. When there were no further knots left, that was the day to revolt against the Spanish. Po’pay, an Ohkay Owingeh medicine man and leader previously been imprisoned by the Spanish, led what became known as the Pueblo Revolt.

Ethan Gutierrez, a youth from Sandia Pueblo, created this sculpture to honor Po'Pay.

The runners…

I think about some of the distances covered – 20, 30, 50 miles or more. Distances we now traverse in vehicles they accomplished on foot.

I think about some of these runners being youth. I imagine the strength it took and the strength they carried in their bodies, minds, and spirits.

I think of how well the runners must have known the land, their internal compass pointing the way to their destination.

I think about the risk these runners incurred by committing to the run itself. Risks of being caught, as happened to Catua and Omtua, two Tesuque youth runners who were tortured and killed after being captured on their run.

Life-size bronze statue of Catua and Omtua by former Pojoaque Pueblo Gov. George Rivera

I wonder what the runners might they have been thinking as they covered long miles. Were they in prayer during the run? Did they think of the seven Generations to come after them?

For those who are runners, honor them as you run today and this week. Run for them.

For those who work to address injustices and inequities that continue to play out colonization's aims, with Indigenous and other communities of color suffering disproportionately, honor the resistance of August 10th, 1680 as a reminder of what united and coordinated efforts to stand up for justice can achieve.

Footnotes:

The Pueblo Revolt through the eyes of youth. A beautiful spoken word piece “Po’Pay” by the Santa Fe Indian School spoken word team in 2010.

On September 22, 2005, the Po'Pay statue in the rotunda of the U.S. Congress building was unveiled. The artist, Cliff Fragua, was the first American Indian artist to have a statue placed in the Statuary Hall. The statue, slightly larger than life size, shows Po'Pay holding a knotted cord in his left hand, the signal for the initiation of the revolt. In his right hand is a bear fetish and behind him a pot, both symbolizing the Pueblo world and religion. On his back are the scars from the whipping he received as a consequence of his observing Pueblo religious ceremonies. (Source: Wikipedia)