Jumping in again…

Today I read an article about feeding your soul. Then, by chance, I got a notification that someone liked one of my posts. Serendipity? You bet!

In July 2020, I wrote a post about ‘jumping back’ to writing. I just read that post. I was so excited about getting back. I was full of ideas and excitement. But then…nothing happened. I just quit posting. I found out that I have written a ‘private’ post about ‘legacy’ and thoughts about what I wished to accomplish during my last two years of my career. I was hoping to write along my journey, but that didn’t happen.

It’s hard to recreate two years! I know I succeeded in what I had planned and wished to do. I know I worked really hard to build a legacy that I can be proud of. There is no reason to look back. I decided to move forward and continue my ‘soul’ journey, which is the reason I started this blog. I just want to write and get in touch with my ‘soul’ again.

I finally retired in May of 2022. That chapter of my life is done. I was given a beautiful ‘send away’ party (virtual due to Covid still lingering in the background). After that wonderful experience, I thought I might get back to writing, as I was getting what I wished for the most – endless time.

But life didn’t evolve the way I thought. I found myself ‘free’ with an endless amount of time. After 30 long years of an intense career where I devoted all my energy and passion, I needed to just rest and recover.

My loving husband also retired. Instead of writing, I devoted my time to travel planning. We love to travel and we have acquired a new hobby – camping – so we took on the road and have had a lot of wonderful camping trips since our retirement.

Now that I think about it, I realize that one of the reasons why I stopped writing is because we got into camping due to the pandemic of 2020. We had so many trips planned before the pandemic…but life with COVID had other plans. We ended up cancelling all our planned trips and decided to get into camping – like many other people out there. Camping seemed safe.

Our camping experience began with renting an RV in September 2020. It only took a couple of trips – with rental units – to convince us to buy a camper. But of course, we couldn’t just get any camper. We ended up buying a restoration project in October 2020. And that’s what happened after my last post. We found out a new hobby that took us into a new life journey. Her name is ‘Willow’ and I’m sure I will write more about her later.

For now, I’m just happy to be back here writing! A new chapter has been started in retirement and I’m sure there will be a lot of opportunities to explore and feed my soul.

My thoughts in 1984 – A time capsule found

Last week, as I was digging into a drawer, I found a time capsule from 1984. My discovery, as I opened the pink binder adorned with flowers, was exhilarating. Inside the binder were traces of my life from 35 years ago. More astounding were the memories that took life again as I opened the treasure.

The year 1984 marked important events in my life. I graduated from college in Puerto Rico that year. I also transitioned into my new life in Michigan, as I departed Puerto Rico to attend graduate school. These two very important events were forever linked into the binder, reflecting a turn in my life that will forever change me. Or maybe not?

What was perplexing is that while going through the pieces of paper that I carefully folded and kept for years to come, I discovered that my soul has not changed. Despite the many life turns and experiences during 35 years, I could easily relate to my feelings in 1984, as if time has not passed.

I felt overwhelming joy and melancholy at the same time. I was happy to re-discover friendships impressed in greeting cards from my college days in Puerto Rico and from those who I met in graduate school. I recognized all the names, but some are not part of my life today, bringing sadness and longing.

I read a poem from a friend, releasing emotions not forgotten. I also read a letter meant for my college friends as I said goodbye – the paper and ink intact. The letter touched on the many feelings of friendship that I so much wanted to leave for posterity in a piece of paper locked away in the binder. I could not remember if I ever sent the letter to my friends. The letter was full of emotion. Did I had the courage to share it with my friends? My memory failed to recall what I did, so I decided to send them the letter last week, as a reminder of my lasting love and friendship.

The binder also unveiled small cutouts with thoughts written by others. As I read the words of wisdom, a puzzle started to come together. The cutouts were from newsletters from my dorm during my first semester at the University of Michigan. Since I was a teenager, I have always liked to collect quotes. I found comfort in reading quotes that connected with my own thoughts. It was as if strangers could read my mind – knowing who I was or wanted to be. I ended up with a notebook full of reflections from poets and writers. The notebook was left behind in my bedroom in Puerto Rico. However, the urge to preserve words of wisdom, which aligned with my own beliefs, never left me. Thus, it was not a surprise that I have continued to collect written quotes that appeared in a hidden corner of the dorm newsletter – the section entitled ‘fuzzy words.’

As I relived the memories, a realization came to mind. The letters and cutouts from 1984 revealed a love for writing that has always being part of my soul. The letter to my friends showed me that I always yearned to put my thoughts on paper, wanting to capture and preserve the fragile and elusive feelings of my soul. The cutouts from the dorm newsletters illustrated my fascination for the written word.

I have always found magic in writing. In a mystical turn of the universe, I find myself today where I was in 1984 – listening to my soul and writing my thoughts and feelings in this blog.

Because you – the reader – are also part of my journey, I wanted to share some of the quotes that I discovered in the binder. They opened a window to where I was in 1984. But they also connect with who I am today. The quotes have a way to awaken the character and desires of my soul.

I hope you enjoy the quotes below, as much as I did reading them again. I also hope that you can find inspiration for your own journey. Enjoy!

“We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it — and stop there; lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove lid. She will never sit on a hot stove lid again, and that is well; but she will never sit on a cold one anymore.” — Mark Twain

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a little bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden path, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Why didn’t you walk around the hole,” asked the Tin Woodsman. “I don’t know enough,” replied the Scarecrow cheerfully, “my head is stuffed with straw, you know, and that is why I am going to Oz to ask him for some brains.” “Oh, I see. But, after all, brains are not the best things in the world,” said the Tin Woodsman. “Have you have any?” inquired the Scarecrow. “No, my head is quite empty,” answered the Woodsman, “but once I had brains, and a heart also; so having tried both, I should rather have a heart.” — The Wizard of Oz

“You may not see it now,” said the Princess of Pure Reason, looking knowingly at Milo’s puzzled face, “but whatever we learn has a purpose and whatever we do affects everything and everyone else, if even in the tiniest way….”And it’s much the same with knowledge, for whenever you learn something new, the whole world becomes that much richer.” — Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth

“And remember, also,” added the Princess of Sweet Rhyme, “that many places you would like to see are just off the map and many things you want to know are just out of sight or a little beyond your reach. But someday you’ll reach them all, for what you learn today, for no reason at all, will help you discover all the wonderful secrets of tomorrow.” — Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth

Have I felt this before?

There is something magical about the art of creation. It feels so exhilarating, so fulfilling. That’s how I feel when I write. Being in touch with my emotions, expressing my deepest feelings, my true feelings, is like nothing else that I have experienced before. But is it that true? Have I felt this before?

My memories started flooding my senses as I went back in time to a place that I have not forgotten. Tears start coming down as I realize that my soul was trying to tell me something many years ago. I tried to listen, but I was still a child and my dependent self couldn’t survive by itself.

When I was a young teenager I took art as one of my elective classes. There was not much thought about taking that step. There is not much thought about anything you do when you are in middle school. I was a very good student – all As, all my life through school. As every good student, your parents and teachers want you to focus on those hard math and science classes. You are supposed to set your sight into something bigger than art, something more serious, more respectable. So I never received encouragement to pursue the happiness of creation. I probably didn’t share with my parents or my teachers how I felt when I was doing the art projects.

I never talked about the ecstasy of forming clay with my hands until the shape of an abstract sculpture takes life. I could almost feel today my fingers working the wet clay and the smoothness of the process of creation when I let myself go. Those pieces still live in the abandoned shelves of my childhood bedroom – testaments of another path that could have been.

I did not share with anyone the joy of smelling the oil pigments while working on my masterpiece in the garage. The excitement of buying the tubes of colors and the pride of creating new members of the rainbow. The awe when a new color blooms – an infinite number of possibilities as the ochre mixed with white. A fresh shade created by my senses – an original never seen before. The masterpiece no longer exists in this physical world, but it will never leave my mind.

I had similar brushes with art in college, where I again decided to take an art class as an elective. This time was different though. It was an art appreciation class where we were asked to pick an artist and study the style. I selected a Spanish artist, El Greco. I still remember vividly the painting that I chose to analyze, the long bodies extending to the sky and the challenge of trying to figure out what lied behind the intent of the artist. As a writer now I realize that it is impossible to know exactly what an artist is thinking during the moment of creation.

“Art for an artist or a book for a writer are personal expressions that escape the conscious understanding of the viewer or reader; the viewer or reader can only attempt to decipher the emotions and feelings behind the creation.” — IS

But wait…there is one more memory that is awakening. There is another time – that innocent memory of my first performance when I was in primary school and I played the organ at the Christmas show. I was so nervous, but I felt so proud. I did something that was creative. It was my first meeting with the pleasure of owning the joy of art.

I didn’t know how to interpret the deep sentiments of my experiences. I don’t even know if I understood then the meaning of the emotions – the calmness, the peacefulness, the freedom of creation. I felt something – many things – but those feelings were foreign to me and I didn’t understand their true meaning. No one around me took the time to ask. Even if they have asked, I’m not sure what I would have said.

My soul attempted to rise from the depth of my being. My soul was shouting, but the noise around me was too loud. Those around me showed me a different path. I became a scientist. The voice of my soul was put aside in a corner of my brain where memories accumulated for a later time. I left my soul behind until now. Those memories today becoming significant as I again encounter the art of creation – the reconciliation with my soul.

My soul-searching journey uncovers an important piece of the puzzle. It is comforting to know that the pieces are starting to come together. The memories of the past evolve into who I am today. My soul is happy to know that I am listening now. I don’t need to depend on others to show me the path. I own my destiny and I can’t wait to continue discovering the mysteries ahead.

Everything is starting to make sense!

My Initial Encounter with Diversity and Racism

I left Puerto Rico more than 34 years ago, when I went to Michigan to pursue graduate studies. As a 21-year old heading toward graduate school, I really did not think much about the significance of that moment – my life changed forever.

I enjoyed graduate school immensely. I attended the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. The world became my backyard, as I met friends from all over the globe. I was like a sponge, taking in all the experiences as part of the journey. My exposure to diversity enriched my knowledge of people and cultures. But there was also a different perspective that was thrown into the picture – one that I have not previously experienced. In the United States, diversity began to take a different connotation focused on race and ethnicity.

I never saw myself as a member of a racial group before I came to the United States. I was Puerto Rican. In Puerto Rico, there is a kaleidoscope of skin colors – a mosaic that transcends a singular defined race. The road of racial differentiation started when I had to fill the application to attend graduate school. The form asked about race and ethnicity. Hispanic was in the list, so I checked the box. That was the first time that I distinguished myself as Hispanic. This event seemed trivial, but eventually impacted my views about diversity and my life experiences. From that point on, I was in a ‘box’ – the Hispanic box – and labeled a minority.

The minority seed germinated in my psyche, developing and growing as I was being assimilated into the American culture. I wondered about the inquiring questions of the application. Why did it matter? As it turned out, I got into graduate school with a minority scholarship, so I adopted the Hispanic classification with pride and moved on. I would have never being able to attend graduate school if it was not for that scholarship. Being a minority gave me the opportunity to go to graduate school. I did not think much about the full meaning of my new label.

Living in the United States I found out that the minority label never leaves you. The color of my skin and my accent always gave away the fact that I was different. Everywhere I went, I would be asked about my origins. Eventually I also discovered that the undertones of being a minority were not always positive. I learned that minorities also experience discrimination – a reality that was uncomfortable to bear.

As I entered the workforce, I participated in diversity awareness seminars and found out that employers were focusing on training employees to respect differences and prevent discrimination. I ended up in a leadership role for the diversity training in my workplace. It was assumed that because I was a minority I should be able to help train employees. However, I have never experienced discrimination and I was actually learning myself from the experiences of other minorities. I was proud to be Puerto Rican – and Hispanic. But I was also an American citizen, so I didn’t quite understood the necessity for racial differentiation. I ended up meeting some fellow co-workers that had experienced discrimination and I joined in the cause to illuminate others about diversity.

Eventually, as life would have it, I also ended up experiencing discrimination. I then understood the pain that other fellow minorities have experienced in the United States. The discriminatory experience resulted in a scar to my soul that still generates pain when touched. The scar is a reminder of the awful reality of racism.

I will never forget my first encounter with racism. It has never be easy for me to open up about my first experience with discrimination or about being a racial minority in this country. Living in the United States opened my eyes in ways that sadden me. I have been touched by the dark tentacles of racial discrimination. I’m no longer ‘virgin’ to the terrible impacts of its darkness. I now can relate to other racial minorities.

Today I gathered the courage to write about this. Bringing awareness to this tough topic is important and relevant to the times that we live in today. Many in this country are experiencing difficult times while the news relate the hate expressed to minorities in many fronts. The openness of this hate is hurtful.

When racism against minorities is expressed openly it hurts. It impacts my daily life. I can’t rip off my skin to show a different color or magically get rid of my Hispanic accent. The pain saddens my soul.

I decided to write this today because my sister had a recent negative experience related to this topic that inspired me. I also decided to write about this today because these type of experiences define our souls. Despite the pain, I believe it is important for me to confront these emotions, as they are part of my soul-searching journey and who I am today.

A New Year – Welcome to My 2019 Life!

As I turn the page to 2019, I reflect on the past and look forward to the New Year. Despite the ups and downs of last year, I’m proud and excited that the transition to the New Year aligned with the creating of My Coqui Soul Project blog. This accomplishment not only symbolizes a great step toward my journey of self-discovery, but it also provides an avenue to express my thoughts through the journey.

I have been writing for years, here and there, throughout my life experiences. There are notebooks that I started with the intention of creating a book someday. There are pieces that I created during a creative writing class that I took after my father passed away, including essays and poems. And there are daily writings that accumulated in my iPhone and iPad notes. With this blog, I now have a place where I can write and organize my thoughts with a purpose. I don’t know where all this will lead me – a book of essays, a memoir, something else? But what I know is that I’m not going to worry about the finish line. I’m just going to work on the journey and let things develop from there.

It is refreshing to know that I’m in a different place from where I was in 2018. I have a blog, I’m a published writer, and I have a voice. I’m doing what I truly believe is my purpose. I love writing. It comes easy, not because there is no effort, but because I enjoy doing it and it doesn’t feel like work. Writing comes naturally. Writing gives me peace, even when I’m sharing tough issues. Writing rejuvenates my soul and gives it a voice. Having a voice is an important part of being. Writing gives meaning to my life and my soul.

Welcome to the continuation of my journey of self-discovery. I have so many things to say and share. I hope you enjoy my company.

Cheers to the New Year!

Where I belong

After so many expectations thinking that coming to Puerto Rico was the key to the puzzle of my soul, my expectations were proven wrong. I thought I will discover the answers to my questions of belonging…but I was wrong.

The last couple of years as a Hispanic woman working under the Trump administration have been emotionally draining. I have felt that I didn’t belong in the United States. I felt that I needed to connect with my roots in Puerto Rico and be embraced by its warmth.

But those expectations were not met. Not even close…

I have been looking to belong in all the wrong places. I don’t belong in Puerto Rico or in the United States. How strange? I’m between places, like a vagabond or orphan.

After some thought, a possible answer emerged in front of me and suddenly something became clear. Feelings of relief and peace rushed into my heart as I discovered a truth that was always present but somehow hidden from sight due to all the emotional distress of wanting to belong to a place. The identity struggle have confused my soul journey. I realize that I don’t belong to a place or a location. I don’t belong to Puerto Rico or the United States. My soul belongs to my soulmate, my sweetheart, my loving husband.

It doesn’t matter where I’m physically. As long as I’m in my husband’s arms, I’m at home. That is where I belong and where I want to be, forever!

Emptiness

It has been a tough week in Puerto Rico. I had so many expectations of wanting to feel a connection, of wanting to belong. But what I’m feeling today is completely opposite to what I wanted or expected.

I want to be honest, because only honesty can truly help me understand myself and who I am. What I’m going to write next is pretty tough. I have experienced such negative situations this last few days in Puerto Rico that my coqui soul feels deflated and dead. I have spent days trying to help my elderly uncle (my dad’s brother) who needs assistance and doesn’t have anyone to take care of him. In my attempt to solve business issues for my uncle I experienced the ‘way things are done’ in Puerto Rico and I realized that I clash with the Puerto Rican mindset. I was trying my best to find rational and fair solutions to problems, but instead found a bureaucracy and mindset that relies on archaic and irrational business systems, where the customer is not the priority or respected.

I’m sure some other day I will write more about all this – the Puerto Rican business mindset – as this is not a new discovery. I have had similar negative experiences trying to deal with medical and legal issues related to my parents in Puerto Rico. The experiences, similar to this week’s issues with my uncle, have been traumatic. Traumatic is a very strong word, but that is the true impact. I feel defeated and hurt, and these feelings form the backdrop of what I’m writing below…

Emptiness and a hole in my coqui soul…

I’m desperately wanting to feel something, to feel connected, to feel that I belong. But those feelings are not there. I feel disconnected and empty. I’m watching a Puerto Rican television show in my mom’s living room and I could care less about the news about Puerto Rico or the reports about Christmas’ celebrations around the island. I feel nothing….

But that’s not quite true, I feel like I want to be somewhere else, like I’m trapped here in my home in Puerto Rico, that I don’t belong and that I want to escape to another place. I thought I would feel a strong connection, especially after thinking so much about being Puerto Rican and thinking that my soul journey will lead me here to my hometown of Ponce. But at this moment — after the traumatic experiences of this week trying to desperately help my uncle and navigate through archaic systems and behaviors that make no sense to me — what I expected is not happening. There is no connection to this place. It is actually disturbing that I feel so empty.

My Shot! I want to be Hamilton!

If you are a Hamilton musical fan a lot of these thoughts will make sense. If you are not, I hope that you can follow my thoughts anyway.

Funny how things appear in your path and impact your life….destiny? Serendipity?

A little over a year has passed since my 55th birthday. That birthday started a seed that now I’m finally beginning to see grow into this blog that I started on my 56th birthday.

For my 55th birthday, I went to Chicago to see ‘Hamilton: An American Musical.’ I was filled with excitement. It seemed that every other soul, but my husband and I, has seen Hamilton – the most popular musical in many years. I knew a little about the musical, but mostly that it was very popular in Broadway and that his creator was from a family from Puerto Rico. The creator was Lin-Manuel Miranda. Beyond that, I didn’t know much about the story line or everything else about the book from which the musical was based on. Actually, I didn’t even know that there was a book until after I saw the musical. I have heard that the musical was awesome, great from co-workers and news. Because of my lack of knowledge, I thought it was a good idea to read/learn a bit about ‘Hamilton’ before heading to Chicago. I didn’t want to be lost during the performance. As my husband and I were waiting for the train to Chicago, I went to Wikipedia. The article was short and I got a taste for what was to come, as I read and share with my husband the ‘cliff notes’ for ‘Hamilton.’ Thank you Wikipedia!

Nothing out there could have prepared me for what was to come…. My experience was out of this world. I felt connected to the musical in a way that I still can’t quite fully describe or explain. It was such an emotional experience. There were so many similarities…Is this why I felt an immediate connection?

Hamilton – an immigrant from the Caribbean – was working hard against all odds to become a founding father. Fast forwarding more than two centuries, I found my life reflected in front of me as I was watching the musical. From that day on, the lyrics are always on my mind!

I felt so much pride when I saw ’Hamilton.’ But it was so much more…the Puerto Rico connection (the hurricane)…the immigrant…the passion…the search for something more…the feeling that there is a purpose…the need for something more…the idea of not giving up… (Non-stop)…the inexplicable fire in my chest and head of thousands of thoughts/words wanting to come out…the love of writing…the love of writing!

My SHOT! What an inspiration! What about my shot? What is supposed to be my place in history?

RISE UP! Don’t give up! Don’t give up your dream. What is supposed to be my legacy? What am I leaving behind after I’m gone? Is this the reason why I’m coming back to writing? I want to leave something behind, something for posterity – my legacy? But it is so much more than that….Hamilton fired up my engine again. Hamilton lit up a fire within me that I was struggling to keep alive.

I have been down lately – depressed? I have been searching for answers, searching for inspiration, searching for a reason to go on, searching for happiness, searching for ‘my purpose.’

JUST YOU WAIT!

It is up to me to do what I want, to follow my dream…to write! I love it. This is the one thing that comes without effort. I have so many thoughts that I want to share. It feels so good to write them. They flow freely and I can’t contain them. Why should I? I should go back to writing. It really doesn’t matter what happens with my writings. Let the future, my destiny, evolve…Let the happiness…

RISE UP!

I have been talking (writing) about finding my purpose for a while. I’m not waiting any longer.

DON’T THROW AWAY YOUR SHOT!

We only have one life. I should pursue my purpose, my happiness, my freedom. I need to lead my life. It is all up to me, not to others. It is not about my job. It is about what I do with my free time. What I pursue because it brings me joy, not because I have to, but because I want to.

Hamilton brought hope, re-alignment, re-focus, pride – an immigrant from the Caribbean achieving greatness/success. Hamilton shook my core and my soul, but in a positive way. Hamilton reminded me that our ‘inside forces’ are stronger than ‘outside factors.’ That drive, passion, and perseverance can move mountains. That achievement is self-driven, not given. Hamilton reminded me that I too can write and express myself and do it because I ‘feel’ those feelings and I have the thoughts. The thoughts and feelings are real because they are mine. No one can tell me otherwise. My purpose and goal is not to convince, but to be honest and true to myself – to be something more than what’s in sight, to give a voice to my soul, to experience the freedom and happiness that comes from being myself. There is a ‘purity’ (wholesomeness) that comes with the freedom of expression – an indescribable feeling of giving ‘life’ to your soul. It is like an adventure in exploring oneself in a way that no one else can, without doubts, regrets…let the pen flow, guide you, be honest, be true, be pure, be you!

DON’T THROW AWAY YOUR SHOT!

Maybe I’m not writing a novel, an autobiography, a memoir. Maybe I’m just supposed to write my thoughts, ideas. Maybe they are valuable to others? But even if they are not…they are valuable to me and they need to come out…they need to be written down. Doing anything short of that would be like killing my soul, like drowning the beauty of freedom, like betraying myself, my life, who I am, my purpose, my SHOT!

I’M NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT!

This is my revolution! This is my time! This is my happiness! This is my path! This is my purpose. This is me!