Jul 30, 2012

Lunes


I found some unique flowers.

Hay algunas cosas que ayudan mis dias.
Hay algunas otras, que me lastiman.
Hay en estas horas un poco de enigma, de que yo sola no encuentra cabida
Hay en este espacio 40 esperanzas, de que algun dia, alguno se cumpla.
Hay en este centro, lo que tengo dentro. Hay en estas flores, mi lunes, mi suenos, mi melancolia.

Hoy me encontre estas flores en mi camino, y recorde, lo importante de las rarezas.
Hay en estas flores, esperanza, en la espera.

Jul 26, 2012

If there is an idea I do love, is the idea of deconstructive thinking. Deconstruction is just part of who I am as a woman, as a professional. Deconstruccion de la memoria is the theme of this space, and I have some reasons why. I am thinking deeply about this in the last couple of days, and I have an idea why this is so much in my mind. I have been stuck. and when I think about putting the pieced of ideas, of thoughts, of feelings, separated, I can be unstuck again. Speaking with alegorisms, speaking with symbols, and not with some of those words that are overstimated. This is just in my mind, this life.

Jul 25, 2012

I am feeling good now. Being in front of this blank page, is another way to be back at what I would call 'my safety zone.' I like being here. I life feeling the urge of wanting to say something and not having somebody to say those things to. I like having a blank page as my option. Many things tonight. But less is better. Im tired.

But the idea of couples, is just in my mind.

I am now working with more couples in therapy than I thought I would be. But the most amazing thing that had happended is how I am finding myself rethinking my relationships. Tonight, I thought of hope. I remembered the crazy mountain ride that was my last relationship, and keep thinking what would be different if me and him just talked more? I am wondering of him. But I am thinking of him very different this time. I know now that he never loved me. And I am realizing that is ok. I am realizing that I never gave anytime to myself to just process that, how hurted that I was. He woudnt never try any different, because there was no love. Him being dettached was not my fault either.

Are the experiences responsibles? Ok, i need to explain this here in order to understand myself. Something about the word 'Love' doesn't fit good for me. But I do have my reasons why. One of them is the fact that I can not say the word 'love' without getting emotional. Just a paragraph above, when I wrote that he never loved me, felt really hard for me to write. It was almost like saying that father never loved me. Even though i know there some thruth about those words, they do hurt so much. It is because it does hurt, that i am not being capable of using them myself. Does that makes sense Gema?? I am responding to myself that, I am not sure if it makes sense. It does makes sense to me. But I dont think it makes sense for the rest of people out there.

When he used to ask: 'do you love me'? I could never answer. And now, thinking, not only back but thinking forward, I wonder, am i going to ever be able? and, Do I even want to say it??  I do wonder, If am blocking myself from getting close to people when I feel they are being honest or they care? Do I fear to the 'real' feelings? No!! I dont think so. Im confuse.

Love is such a given for granted word.

Is either that, or just the fact that i might be uncapable of  having a real trust in a man. or, that there other types of love. I don't know. The only thing I know for sure is that I never believed he loved me. And I dont think I ever believed a man loved me. ughhhh, this is so hard. I feel the weight on my back when I write that. I guess i do care about love somehow.

Even though I would never understand why he choosed to just hurt me, I do understand, that he had no option. That's the only thing he knew. I just noticed that I can't even say his name anymore. is just a name i guess.

I can not say that I am free from that relationship. Relationships always hunt us. like ghost. But I do believe that i am liking this idea of 'recreating' aspects of that part of my life, to understand, to forgive, and to reconciliate with my own identity and choices.

But I am sad at times. I can't lie. I am sad about the 'idea' but not about him anymore. the idea that I did wanted him to stay, to try a little more. But I am understanding now, that maybe he did care about me. I asked him for few years, to just leave me if he cared fore me. and this time he did.

I guess i need to thank him. for once he listened. oh this is making me laugh now. But is also helping me. I do not think about him often or with anxiety anymore, so that means im good. that again, I am feeling good now.



Jul 22, 2012


Why do I think about thinking? I think of my process of though because I have an intention. With no intentions, my thoughts get confuse, and the overwhelming feeling of being lost arrives.

I am not lost anymore.

I am now started to think that my thinking is just passion. I dont want this to leave me. But I needed to be productive, for me. and for others. The word compassion has been hunting me, I think about my body and I feel it, I have to be compassionate, mindfull at all times, because being mindfull and aware of my limitations,  bring me back to my ground.

My intention for tonight, is being aware of my breathing, of my dreams. That's it.

Jul 16, 2012

identidad

Someone made me really mad last week. I was mad, until the point of getting sick. Because I coulnt articulate the ways to defend my self, or my ideas. I realize how much labels that doesnt fit with us, can hurt. I was hurt, mad, and invalid of words. But I wake up.

Conversations can heal, with other conversations, with restorative conversations. After having a conversation with a woman that I admire, and value, I felt empower again. I feel connected again. I feel, that it is ok to say no, and it is ok to speak up as I have been working on so much for the last few years.

I am still mad. But I am mad in a more productive way. In a way that is not paralizing me, nor my identity. I dont feel ashame for needing to talk, or for being me. I feel mad, but that feeling that will not stop me for thinking. I want to make things better, and I will.

Having somebody telling me words of my identity that doesnt fit with me, I realize how I am adding or deleting words and actions of my identity on daily basis. I am the one that is choosing those labels. That are not labels.

Jul 15, 2012

domingo y palabras.

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.”― Virginia Wolf

this note reminded me how much I wanted space as a child and teenager. I wanted my privacy and a safe place to hide my diaries. I feel so safe with my diary, being safe. And i feel safe now, but for different reasons. I feel safe knowing that im not feeling constraint anymore for not writing something out of fear. I feel safe knowing that i can still write whetever i want, and that that is ok, because i am ok. or im getting there. I feel that my words can not be stolen this time. or burn. these words are mine, and the experiences, even if they painful, are mine. I am mine.

mas.

Ver ninos, en terapia, esta cambiando mucho quien soy yo, como persona y profesional. Es como si tuviera una nueva identidad. Me vuelvo mas vulnerable que lo que ya soy. Pienso mas. Siento mas. Y me dejan pensando mucho mas, que lo que los adultos me hacen sentir. No quiero asumir que se trata de un instinto, de su tamano, y cliches por el estilo, porque se que no es eso totalmente. Es una combinacion de recordar mi propia ninez, y el no querer hacer dano. Trabajar con ninos me recuerda que no solo puedo ayuda, que tambien puedo danar.

The lesser blessed

I have to tell you something, I said, I’m not going to lie, I have to tell you I have this god-shaped hole in my  heart, and I think you do ...