Sunday, March 31, 2013

Vacation With No Guilt


How I Enjoyed Vacation Without Feeling Guilty on the Plane Ride Home

It has been a long time since I went away on vacation. Especially the type of vacation where everything is all-inclusive, the resorts are sparkly clean and you don’t share a shower with your neighboring backpackers.

I woke up the very first morning in awe of the crystal blue waters. But as I waited for the elevator to take me down to the lobby, I began to panic.

I entered the room of an 8 row buffet in trepidation.

My mind raced with thoughts of the ethics of living. By the mounds of hamburgers I saw rows of cows trapped in confined spaces eating unnatural grain. As the herds of two legged humans entered the dark, air-conditioned space from the bright doorway I saw them wear t-shirts bearing the words “obesity epidemic”, “gluttons” and “unconscious”.

And there I was carrying a plate to join the line right behind them with my t-shirt bearing “hypocrite”.

I sat through dinner beside my father rather quiet. I noted casually the portions of my fellow vacationers. I squinted as I saw the tiny piles of food left behind and then I cringed at myself as I shoveled down another bite too many in an effort to leave no bean behind.

After a rather contemplative feeding, I walked out of the restaurant by myself.

Subconsciously, I used the stairs.

When I arrived on the 6th floor, I felt a little exhausted.

I grabbed my journal and headed out to our little balcony overlooking the most beautiful sit of crisp blue waves underneath vibrant green palm trees. I smiled in the sweetness. I inhaled with deep reverence for the salty fresh air and exhaled away my worries.

I am on vacation.

Something very valuable I learned from this week’s guided meditation was the importance of creativity and play. So many great ideas, moments of bonding and discoveries arise during our moments of downtime. However, I notice so many of us too distracted with accumulating the richest plate, judging our nearest neighbor, and criticizing ourselves for our weakness to enjoy a genuine time of play or relaxation.

What was my intention for this vacation?

The answer was simple. It was never about the abundance of food or the boisterous nightlife. It wasn’t about getting a golden tan or checking another country off my list. It wasn’t even about those blessed blue waters or the silky sand that weaved between my toes as I walked down the beach.

It was about my family.

It was about spending loving moments with my father and being with my sisters in a place where we weren’t learning or working or arguing or teaching, just being together.

It was about laughing at my sisters’ fumbles on the volleyball court and silly dance moves at the nightclub. It was about the feeling of our legs rubbing next to each other as we bounces acorss the sea on the catamaran.

It was about the smile on my Dad’s face when we all met in the lobby and it was about the bowl of ice cream we shared together at dinner.

So you know what I did after that first night at dinner?

I set more intentions. Because I wanted to enjoy my vacation and I wasn’t going to feel guilty about it.

I knew that I still wanted to enjoy the food at the buffet so I used it as an experiment to make my first plate the most nutritious. I loaded up on fresh spinach and avocado,  yummy nut and seeds and many of the local fruits: guayaba, papaya and pineapple.

As for the feelings of dismay about the ideas of an “all you can eat”, I decided that there wasn’t much I could do about that at the moment. I had already been committed. However, I made a note of everything I felt about the buffet and felt empowered to choose vacations differently in the future.

I love to be healthy. Most of the love comes from a place of deep reverence for my body and all that it permits me to do. That being said, I also love food and even more, I love sharing food with people.

During my time in El Salvador and many other places aborad, food was what brought people from many lands together. It was a sign of resepct to accept a plate made by my brothers and sisters from foreign lands and with that I grew to have quite an “all inclusive” appetite myself.

As for this vacation, if I was going to indulge in some new delicacies here and there, I knew that I had to do something to create balance, or else, that’s were the sneaky little thing called “guilt” would creep in.

So I set an intention to use the stairs every time I wanted to get to and from my 6th floor room. I did pushups every morning and some form of exercise everyday on the beach, whether it was volleyball, yoga, or core work.

Even better, with my new sense of control and empowerment over my vacation with my intentions, I was able to continue living the healthy life style I have grown accustomed to love. I woke up almost every morning at 7am. Usually started my day with a big glass of water and journaling on my porch, breathing in fresh air and being conscious of all the natural beauty around me.

Some days I went for a walk with my father.

I drank very little alcohol, although when I did I had some vodka and seltzer and I was extra happy to ask for everything in Spanish, once again.

I even enjoyed my little buzz and felt no guilt afterwards.

As I set out into the air and waved goodbye to my lovely time in Cancun, the Yucatan Peninsula and the Isla Mujeres, I couldn’t help but let my mind travel back to El Salvador, as I smiled at the colorful pueblo below me. Painted shanties of blue, purple and yellow, with little carts out front surely selling freshly squeezed juices and with extra dirty water. I may have wiped a tear or two from my eyes and sighed with the sweet reminder that part of my heart will always reside in central America and I live forever indebted to how it has changed my life.

So I go back home to NY, excited to return to my routine, and also very satisfied with my relaxing little vacation. No anxiety. No stress. No work.

No guilt.

Even after many bowls of ice cream with my pops.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Did I Tell You I Loved You Today

I almost cried on Sunday.

It wasn't because I was sad. And it wasn't because I was happy.

It was because I heard a farmer describe how she grew her tomatoes.

Lately, I have been practicing more conscious eating. When I am preparing and cooking my food, I take a couple moments to reflect about where my stuff came from. It has been such an interesting experience.

If I start to pour a bowl of cereal, I find myself squinting and forehead wrinkling trying to determine what are in those flakes. How did they get there? How did they get here?

And that's even before I turn the the ingredient label. That is where the real confusion kicks in.

It's not just about health- although I care very deeply for the body I have been blessed with that carries me around to experience the cultures of the world; the body that houses my passionate soul; the body that heals me if I let it.

It's not just about me- although I love to feel strong and empowered and as bright as the sun and the oranges it helps grow.

It's not just about the food- although I LOVE food.

It's also about energy. What I eat becomes me and I like to know what I am eating.

We have made it kinda hard when back in the day it didn't used to be.

Don't get me wrong, we have created some amazing things in this world.

And I am appreciative for that.

More appreciative I am for the farmers who grow my tomatoes.

Sunday I listened to a local NY farmer talk about how she thinks of a beautiful couple that shows up at her market every Saturday to purchase her produce. She thinks about them when she waters her plants. She thinks about them when she measures the nutrients in her soil and harvests her babies with love and care. She thinks about them when she pays her employees proper wages.

She uses loving hands, where many places use cold machinery.

She cultivates with care, where many places use pesticide.

She sells with pride, where many places sell with hidden ingredients amongst a scientific label.

hmmmm.

I smile at my salad.

Did I tell you I loved you today?


Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Just Be It


I love words. 

Do you ever hear a word like “clementine” and it just makes you feel warm inside? 

Sometimes, people will just say a word and I’m like “Yes!!!” 

Ask my older sister, I have about 7 journals around me at all times. I have journals on my shelf, I have journals from Vietnam and El Salvador, I have journals on my iPad, iTouch and MacBook, I have a Chopra Center journal and a journal of recycled paper, I have an online journal, I have a private journal....

point is- journals filled with words. 

Some of my favorite words are:

Passion

Culture

Learning

Thriving

Peace

Fulfilled

Inspired

Inspiring

Compassion

It’s weird when you have these words constantly in your level of consciousness, they come up everywhere.

When you have a moment where something REALLY resonates with you, write it down. Pick a word. 

Keep those words around you constantly. 

Engage in things, businesses, experiences, opportunities, jobs, hobbies, activities that bring out those feelings. 

Sometimes, we cannot put our finger right on top of what we want in life.

I still cannot answer the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Actually, I do not even spend any time dedicated on answer that anymore.

You know why?

Because I don’t freakin know. How the heck am I supposed to know?

I don’t know if I’m gonna be sick tomorrow, have time to wash my hair tonight, or if my 10 year old car will start in the next 15 minutes.

I truly believe in having dreams and aspirations, don’t get me wrong. A small goal of mine that have no doubt in contributing to is World Peace.

Also, having some plan and structure in life is great.

My point is that thinking and thinking about what you want to be when you grow up can be a daunting and confusing task in our world of endless opportunities in New York, which can bring about a great deal of anxiety for the mass of us.

What I realized quite recently is that I am being right now what I want to be when I grow up. 

Merely by living my life with my “words”, (compassion, passion, fulfillment, culture, peace, learning, growth, inspiring) in mind, I am being what I want to be.

So you know that saying “just do it”.

Just be it.

It seems silly. It seems simple.

And it is.

The greatest part of it all is that it works.

I have worried a lot about my future. About my family. About my friends. About myself. 

I still do, let’s not lie.

However, I have been much more conscious and aware of living from a place of “just doing what resonates with me”.

Some people call that “following your heart” or “dreams”.

It sounds floofy. But before I knew it, I won a scholarship to continue studying in the field of peace, I enrolled in a Yoga program abroad, I was making more money, and published with many honors of recognition on one of my favorite online publications for wellness. 

One of my favorite books, that I have read numerous times, by my favorite authors, Paulo Coelho is “The Alchemist”.

He taught me that the Universe will conspire for you. Just show the Universe what it is that you truly want to live for. Do you know?



Wednesday, March 6, 2013

A Tree or Not a Tree


A storm is coming

And I just bought spring shoes.

A storm is coming.

And I’m tired of shivering as I enter my car each morning.

A storm is coming.

And I am grateful.

You can see it in the murky look of the skies. You can feel it in the bitterness of the air. You can taste it in your stomach.

You can also hear about it on the news, twitter, facebook, istagram and nieghbors. 

We all run for coverage. We stock up on driveway salt and groceries. We change our plans. We plan ahead. 

We moan and cry and dread and complain. 

I do, too.

I also see the metaphor. 

I have spent a great deal of time lately, admiring the trees. I cannot tell you the difference between a maple and an oak, don’t let me mislead you and if you thought I knew where an acorn or pine cone come from, I assure you, I do not.

What I mean is that I see a tree, what it is and what it is not. For, in reality, it is not a tree. It is roots, and a trunk, branches and leaves. It is the sunshine it eats and the rain that quenches it’s thirst. It is the tree-cutters, who let it live, and the worms who fertile it’s soil. It is the men and women who recycle their plastics and the birdies who trust them with their young. 

When the storm comes, the branches waver. Leave my fall, twigs may snap. The “tree” is now down a branch or two: transformed. 

It is still a tree. It is still not a tree. It is still roots, a trunk, branches, the sun, the animals, the you, and the me. 

As long as the roots are well rooted, as long as it is grounded, as long as it’s center is well-known, and its branches determinedly reaching upward, it will stand. 

It will stand through the storm.

The storm reminds the tree of it’s nature. 

We, the people, are trees.

(We are really) but if you’d prefer to accept this as a metaphor, that works, too.

You may live most days thinking, “I am just Jaime. I get on the train. I go to the store. I come home. I sleep.”

You may live some days thinking, “I just want to give up. What am I here for? Why is this happening to me?”

When the storm comes, you forget for a minute. You forget, but only to worry about the storm.

I ask you to embrace it. 

Know that you are a tree and the storm is an awakening, a reminder. 

No matter what comes along your path in life, if you are grounded and rooted in your beliefs, you will not falter. If you find your center and it burns with your soul, you will stand strong. If you look up above and can see a bit of life, towards which you spread your branches, you will continue to grow and transform. 

And, amongst you, there are many trees. 

Some may fall, yes, and many are different shapes and sizes, but we are all feeding from the same soil and yearning for the same light. 

A storm is a very real way of feeling our branches shake and it may be scary and it may be liberating, but it is there to teach us something. 


I look forward to embracing this storm and sharing flowers come spring. 

www.byhappiness.org