One of Those Days

Ever have one of those days where you just do not want to get out of the shower?

It is like the shower is your only safe place. No one can come in and disturb you.

The constant flow of water is cleansing all that has gone wrong with the day before.

Even your tears run unseen.

If you stay in there, the day ahead won't have to start, and there's a chance you may avoid repetition of all the failures from the last 24 hours.

If you stay in there, you won't have to answer the phone. You won't have to pick up calls of bad news. You won't have to pay the bills. You won't have to see 'you know who' or do 'you know what'.

If you stay in there, you don't even have to think about what to wear.

But, alas, you start to feel guilty about all the water you are wasting... or, if you are like me, your hot water tank runs out in approximately 7 minutes and you have no other choice but to emerge from your blissful steam room.

You reach for the towel, almost hesitantly, because you know that as you wipe the water droplets away, you are wiping away the illusion of a world without pain.

Time to face the inevitable.

You get dressed and you go.

You go out into the world that at times can seem so daunting and so scary. You go with uncertain, fearsome anticipation of what is to come. Anxiety that there will be another bad call. A pain in your stomach that you will not be able to mend all the ways in which you have went wrong. A cringing of confusion.

How did I get here?

But you keep going.

Because rocking in the rocking chair will keep you busy, but it will get you no where.

And somewhere in this world is worth going.

You keep going because there must be one person out there who will make you smile today. It may be the coffee guy, who gives you a free pastry. It may be a puppy who walks happily along 9th Avenue with 2 wheels as his hind legs. It may be the bright blue sky above, and that sunny spot as you turn onto 78th that warms your face in the morning.

You keep going, because even if the day just does not seem to get any better from that morning shower, you can always get back in that shower in the evening.

Just keep going.

Because you wouldn't know pleasure without knowing pain.

Pain is okay.

Just keep going.

Dear Grandma

3 Ways to Live Until You're 93

(featured on Mind Body Green)

By Jaime Posa

My grandma is utterly amazing, something you have to see to believe. She golfs (and wins), she cooks, she cleans, she sews, she draws (she was a designer), she drives around in her big, white Chrysler, but most importantly of all, she makes every person who crosses her path laugh.

 

She is 93-years-old.

 

Just in case you didn’t get the picture: last Sunday she was photographed walking alongside a 96-year-old lady who was using a walker. My grandma walked by this lady’s side, coaxing her along, “Come on honey, you can do it!”

 

She does not wear glasses, nor has she ever. She gets asked out to dinner by 65-year-old men, and she rejects them because “they can’t dance.” Her bicep is bigger than mine, and I thank God every day that I got her legs.

 

I sat next to her over the weekend, in a hand-in-hand embrace at a family party. We were smiling, sharing stories and laughing like two childhood friends. I was admiring her trendy jewelry when another lady said, “That’s sweet; did you leave some jewelry for your granddaughter?”

 

“No. I’m alive. I wear it,” was my Grandma’s response.

 

No one is going to cut my Grandma’s life short, and no one is going to make her stop living and enjoying every moment of it.

 

So, how does granny do it, you ask?

 

1. Laugh often – Let your head roll back and your eyes tear. Do it until your stomach hurts and almost to the point where you cannot bear it anymore. Lock eyes with your friends, your family, even a stranger.

 

2. Be True to Yourself – Stop worrying about what the world will think if you go running in your sports bra and you don’t have a six-pack. If you want to study philosophy, do not study economics because of what your friends will say. Being you and doing you is more than okay; it is beautiful.

 

3. Stay Active – Grandma never sits! It is okay to relax, but try vacuuming the first 30 minutes of your favorite show; it gets up your heart rate. A snowy winter coming? Go out there and help your neighbor shovel for 15 minutes – get some back muscles! Walk to the grocery store, and go out dancing!

 

My grandma is my best friend. She is my pride. She is my motivation and my inspiration. Take her advice; it works! And don’t forget to ask your grandma her story! If you don’t have a Grandma, you can share mine. Her name is Faustina, so feel free to leave her a message below.

 

Our elders carry all the wisdom in the world, how often do we tap that resource?

Lili's Eyes

I spoke with Lili and Karyme yesterday.

Every time I hear their delicate voices through a choppy connection, I picture where they are standing. It is that same spot that I stood in so many times, hoping the call wouldn't drop with a loved one from the states. It's the spot just outside the kitchen area, where the smoke from the wood-burning stove burns my eyes.

The stray dogs are gathered in a tiny heard in front of me, peering up at me with puppy eyes and floppy ears, hoping I will open the door to the kitchen. The chickens are wandering around aimlessly, waiting for Lili to give them their morning feed and the kitty is perched on the clay tile roof, licking her paws from her nightly endeavors.

I know that "molino" that grinds the morning corn, soon to be rolled, patted & flopped upon the clay "comal". I know that dog that growls in the background (Terry). I close my eyes and I see Nina Doris washing clothes by the "pila" and Nena making me some scrambled eggs in the kitchen.

I don't know the voice that says "hola Jaime, la extraniamos, como esta".

Is it Lili? or Karyme?

Why can't I tell? :(

They have gotten older since I first met them. You can tell because Lili's curls are longer and her teeth are... there.

You can tell because Karyme doesn't have that pudgy baby fat rolling and creasing all over her Dora-the-Explorer sized body.

You can tell because their voices sound the same.

Or, do their voices sound the same because it has been so long since I have seen them? This is Lili, the first month I met her (5):

I fell in love with her instantly. It was her eyes. They told the story of a deep soul. They were dark with a painful past, but deep with a child's wisdom. They flooded easily, but forgave sincerely. They looked at me with a longing and found in me an understanding.

It was her smile. It did not want to come out at first. It hid behind a skepticism. It thought it wasn't suppose to. But then it came. Like a rainbow. 

It was her hands. Afraid to touch. Gentle. Hesitant. Her fingers finding the freckles on my arms. A hug that leaves me aching. 

This is Karyme (3), Lili's cousin by blood, but sister by nature.

If you are not in the mood to smile, or laugh, you don't have a choice. She runs the town...and while she may have the power in pure cuteness, but her words will floor you. She once kicked a drunk guy off her property.

We have had many conversations about girl troubles, hairstyles and future jobs.

She has no idea why they placed her in Kindergarten this year.

I suppose it's needless to write the words "I miss them." I suppose you know I have tears streaming down my face right now. I suppose you have fallen in love, as well.

I cannot wait for the day when I see them again. It musn't be too long, because... because it musn't. 

Teaching mama how to use facebook has paid off because I'm kept "up to date" with photos. Here they are on our newly paved road: 

I'm supposed to be right in between them :(

I have to admit, that road pains me a little. Oh how many times I complained about the dirt and the rocks and the mud...but wasn't that what made it all so fun? You boring cement you. 

What makes a place beautiful is it's people. What makes a place a home, is it's people. What makes the world turn round, is the people...and I'm totally convinced there's a really great one who was picked to keep spinning it.

Lili & Karyme were those people for me in El Salvador. They gave me a reason to stay, when I wanted to leave. They made me laugh, when I was already crying. They made me have hope, when I was ready to say "I'm never going to 'be the change'!"

They are the reason for this: http://www.byhappiness.org . 

And no matter what happens... with the organization, with my job, with my 'home', with life...

I am so very grateful I set foot in that joyful land, in that beautiful mountainside, with those munchkin faces. 

I see the world through a new set of eyes. 

A pair of eyes I share with Lili.

And for that, I am everyday grateful.

Say I'm a Bird

Say I'm a Bird

There are times when I just do not want to be me.

I want to be a butterfly.

Among the rainforest, I cannot be found.

As if I do not exist. 

There are places I am sure I do not belong.

Whose hands placed this shirt upon me?

There are moments I wonder how I got here.

Was it my feet that carried me?

How far along am I?

Who chooses the footprints that are brushed away?

There are people whose faces bewilder me.

Their faces show my reflection.

There are sounds I cannot escape.

My beating heart chokes my throat.

The crickets crawl beneath my comforter.

The rainy season.

There are times when I just do not want to be me.

So I ask myself, “who is this person, whom you claim to be?”

Perfectly Imperfect

Being Perfectly Imperfect

(featured on IntentBlog.com, see http://intentblog.com/perfectly-imperfect/)

It is very difficult not being perfect.

I get impatient when I am stuck behind a slow-moving crowd on the streets of New York City. I fight with my sisters. I judge smokers. I re-live painful memories of my past.

I eat after 7:00pm…usually a pint of ice cream…and sometimes a side of pickles.

I have trouble balancing on one foot. I hit snooze six times before I get out of bed, take too long in the shower, and then I am late for work.

I scratch my nose while meditating.

It is so hard to be perfect. Yet somehow we think that we can be.

We get upset at ourselves for not being able to have a perfect warrior two pose in our yoga practice. We think we deserve sadness because we cheated on a prior lover. We regret and regret and regret the slice of pizza we ate the night before.

What about recognizing our imperfections and loving them? What about breathing deep, acknowledging our bad memories and then letting them go in one strong exhalation? What about having a short meditation on our errors, reflecting on how good we will feel next time we choose better decisions?

I am a human being.

I do yoga everyday, I smile at strangers, I stand on my head, and I often fall down.

I have anxieties.

Sometimes, I get mad at myself for having feelings.

It is then that I remind myself that my feelings and anxieties are not the issue. These are not my imperfections. These will not go away.

This is what makes me human and this is my mind and body telling me something.

What I have the power over is choosing how to react to those anxieties and feelings. I determine the activities to partake in to create the space that will help me learn and progress from the state of my insecurity.

It is difficult not being perfect.

I am still hurt by past lovers, I ache at family hardships, and my backbend is poor.

“I need to let go. I should not feel this way. I am supposed to be able to do this.”

Says who?

Be who you want to be. Create the space that will help you get there.

I intend to be perfectly imperfect:

I will acknowledge my weaknesses and I will be empowered to transform them.

I will accept the things I cannot change.

And, I will let go, where needed.

Namaste.

Life's Callings

Do you ever have one of those moments where you realize "this is it!". Not like in the bad way where you step in a fresh pile of dog poo on fifth avenue on your way to work and you're convinced the world is desperately trying to tell you to "just.    give.    up."

But one of those moments where the world actually stops spinning.

All of the masses of human beings speed walking through new york city become a blur and you feel invincible.

Some causes of this may include, but are not limited to:

• a random lady helping you gather your belongings for you on the subway after you are returning from a long weekend and headed back to the office
• the site of children running and laughing through the sprinklers at the park
• a heartfelt wink from a friend you had not connected with in a long time
• the end of savasana at yoga practice

It is moments like these that I truly believe the Universe is telling me something (I capitalize Universe because I respect it that much).

I had one of these moments when I was a freshmen in college and sitting in my Anthropology class and our Peace Corps recruiter came in and gave a presentation about her service. No words can describe the immediate feeling of "this is it" that I felt that afternoon. 

I knew that I was meant to be a Peace Corps volunteer. And I did it. And everyday was exactly as I imagined. And I am still living that experience. And I am so very proud of it.

It was so, authentically me. And it felt. so.   good.

Even the days when I stepped in poo, and I mean a lot of poo. I still loved it. That's the thing about doing the things you love. Doing the things that are true to you. The challenges don't matter at the end of the day. All the poo in the world doesn't make you give up on your passion.

Have you had a calling?

Do you know your purpose here on earth?

Do you at least think about it?

Or do you push it out of your mind the second it starts to creep in and you go and get comfy under the covers?

...I find myself doing that sometimes now...

That is when I remember something so very intelligent I heard awhile ago.

"Find the things you love. And do more of it."

So, I go to a lot of yoga classes-- because if you focus too much on your "life calling", the "big picture" it can be a little overwhelming. I may not be able to pull the covers down and create world peace, but I can pull them down and see the world more peacefully.

I can create a more peaceful body. I can create a more peaceful mind. And in that way, I don't need to create world peace. I walk it. 

I meditate. 

I run. 

I write in a gratitude journal.

I look at the water.

I walk barefoot...I feel the sand beneath my toes (not just walk mechanically on the beach, but feel the grains). I let the pain of the pebbly concrete awaken those pressure points that so rarely get poked.

I collect journals ...and carry all 7 of them painfully back and forth between the office and the apartment.

I read.

I play volleyball.

I laugh. I love. I cry. I think. I rest. I examine. I let go.

Because these are the things I love. And when I start to get overwhelmed about "my purpose in life", I realize that doing these simple things makes my purpose clear. It gives me faith.

Last night I went to the Gospel of Sweat, an amazing talk that was held at Riverside church and hosted by LuluLemon and inspired by my yogi-ism.

I listened to very powerful women (and some men), but very powerful women (I'm sorry but us women are powerful) talk about their meaning in life.

Suzanne sang in a beautiful tone with breathtaking lyrics that made all the little hairs on your arm stand up. Jeff touched the room with his love story. Schuyler genuinely had us laughing. Melanie inspired us as a successful mother, business-woman and cancer survivor (the same cancer my sister Danielle had as a child- Non Hodgkins Lymphoma). Gabrielle impressed us with her own survivor story that so many of us can relate to. 

Be what you need. 

It's time to share your story.

Find the soul in you and how it connects to the universe.

These are things they expressed in their stories. 

Don't deprive the world of the gifts you have been given. 

Because there is not one of us that has not been given a gift. And, oh what a shame to see things as the poo-y "this is it" and not the blissful awakening "this is it"...

I have fallen in love with NY again...for many reasons. But you know what has been SO awesome this summer? Meeting so many people who have not deprived the world of their gifts. Artists. Photographers. Entrepreneurs. Businessmen. Musicians. Cooks. Cleaners. Dog-walkers. People who have looked me in the eyes with that Peace-Corps-authencitiy I had, and smiled. 

Proud of their jobs, not because society told them to be. But because they were.

What makes life rich? How do you want to live? How are you inspired? How can YOU inspire?

Oh how very sweet and beautiful the world can be, if we let it. 

Someone just said to me moments ago, "you won't remember how many hours you spent in the office. But your stories you will have for a lifetime."

So let's create some stories people. It doesn't matter where you do it (heck, it CAN be in the office). It's not about the who, or the what or the where. Its the why you are doing something. It's about "being you". Do things you love. Stories are created by sharing experiences. 

There's a lot I don't remember about my life- my GPA, how much the flight cost to Vietnam, where I left all those clothes I had before Peace Corps.

But I remember the sweat I felt dripping down my forehead as I raced uphill alongside cancer survivors during my first triathlon. I remember the feeling of Karyme's chubby arms around my neck, and the way Lili's face changed into a beaming smile as I walked up to her house in El Salvador. I remember losing my breath as I jumped off that tall waterfall and I remember struggling to find it as I parachuted out of an airplane. I remember the nights of pouring rain banging on my roof in ES, where I could hear nothing but my own solitude- I remember crying alone in my barren house, praying for the night to be over...and it was, and you know what, it wasn't so bad the next day! I remember what the cold snow feels like on my nose when I play outside with my little sisters. I remember the laughter as I clung to the back of my older sister riding a motorcycle around Sapa Valley, Vietnam. 

Create moments.

Find things you love- and do more of them! Smile. Be. 

You'll be so amazed at what happens next.

I Am Buddha

I wasn't planning on blogging today. And then something so weird happened, that I just began to write.

Let me warn you ahead of time, many of you will laugh at this. If not a full-blown "HA", you will definitely be smirking. And if you don't smirk, you will close this page before you finish reading.

However, if you have just the least bit of curiosity, I applaud your faith.

I usually meditate outside. Nature is calming and nature is my inspiration.

Today, however, I did it in my bedroom. There I was, sitting cross-legged upon my blue carpeted floor. I was headphone-d into my laptop, as I listened to a guided meditation. I had my eyelids resting peacefully upon my bottom lashes, head balanced perfected above my spine, sitting tall upon my sitting bones. I was deeply focused on the mantra "I am open to love."

As I repeated this phrase silently in my mind, I time travelled back to a former guided meditation. During this prior experience, I was guided to look across at me at a person whom loved me, supported me and in whom I could trust. I found myself envisioning myself as a younger Jaime. For some reason, I saw a smiling high-school Jaime, about 16 years old. I was wearing a white t-shirt, my hair down and I was just smiling a carefree smile. I wasn't worried about the future. I wasn't immature. I wasn't taking life seriously. I was confident. I was smiling a smile that said "what is the matter? you have nothing to worry about. I am here, and you can trust in me, and it all works out."

I continued with today's meditation. "I am open to love." My mind began to wander, but I came back to this mantra. I listened to my breathing and I focussed my awareness on my heart. I envisioned it swelling with love. My heart became so large in my chest and I was fully aware of it beating.

My eyes had been closed gently for quite awhile now, when they gradually cracked open and I caught a glimpse of my computer screen.

Expecting to see the Guided Meditation Page, I was terrified in awe at what I saw instead.

It was me for a second, and then I quickly morphed into Buddha.

My computer screen had gone black, and in my dimly lit room, I could easily see my reflection, as if it were a mirror. I had my hair tied up in a bun (coincidentally) that was wrapped loosely and sitting on top of my head in an all too familiar hair-do. My eyes were only slightly parted and my mouth wore an almost non-existent, yet very apparent, smile.

I'm not sure if I was dizzy from the meditation or drunk with love, but it was impossible to deny that I resembled his truly, Buddha.

It's so very silly... yet so very simple.


Where is the light? Where is God? Where is Buddha? Where is love? Where is your soul? Where is whatever it is that you believe in?

It is in you.
          It is all around you.
                      It is everywhere.

It is You.

You just have to awaken it.

So very simple...

But I bet most of us forget to do it!

How to look at it a little more practical? Here are some ways I know the light is there in the Universe:

-the smell of the salty sea and the feeling of the crisp breeze on my face as I sit on the beach looking out at the ocean

-laughing at the top of my lungs, as I connect squinting eyes with my best friends, my stomach aching shortly after in welcomed pain

-dancing with Latin music running through my veins, with not a clue as to how to dance salsa, but not a care in the world as to how I look doing it

-running down the sidewalk, music blaring in my ears, feeling the power in my legs as I watch my feet move one in front of the other in perfect rhythm

-the feeling of bliss singing at the top of my lungs alone in my house in El Salvador when its pounding rain on my tin roof

-the peace of mind that comes during and after a beautiful meditation