Perspectives: the poet and the artist

The good thing about having friends from different places is that you learn new ways at looking at situations, obstacles or even trees. I have an artist friend who calls me a poet and boy, our perspectives couldn't be more different. The poet in me wants lengthy and embellished explanations whereas my artist friend seems content with a glance. The poet screams in obstacles, wants to talk about her fears, goes on a roller coaster of emotions to make a decision and finds herself only content after exploring all of the options. The artist observes and patiently works away towards one goal, one outcome, and gives a few words to put a caption on the obstacle presented, as if it were a portrait in an art gallery. Things like, time will tell and if something is unresolved, it is not the end yet and Brazil will always be here. Let me tell you, it's nice to have an artist's perspective for a change to soften the poet's loud internal voice.

Perfect Timing

"You called at the perfect timing!"

"I got your message at the perfect time."

"Speaking of the devil!"

A lot of my loved ones are scattered around the world. And that is just how it is when you like to invest yourself in people wherever you go. I have several loved ones within my reach here and a handful more sprinkled across the States, in Europe, and even further- in other states in Brazil (in terms of hours traveled by bus, yes further). So it doesn't always happen that I can talk with them every day or be on wifi at the right time to chat. But there have been several times where I am down and out, or in need of an energy boost or a quiet ear and there he or she appears. Is that a coincidence in the connection or...God? As a Spanish friend once told me "No hay coincidencias, solamente Diosidencias." We'll leave that up to the heavens to decide.  

On the contrary, there are several times of silence, when I can't get in touch with anyone that I want or need to, and it is just left to me to decide, to figure out the next step. Now there also is a blessing in disguise. 

Where Does Advice Come From?

These past couple of years I have started to recognize a really bad habit of mine. I will listen to someone's advice and I will wholeheartedly accept it as the truth, immediately. Then I listen to another person's opinion on the matter and my truth changes on the dime. Just like that Tilt-a-Whirl ride at the carnival, this pattern will cause any level-headed logical person's head to spin. Let alone, a kinda kooky ginger!

When in doubt, stop and watch the sunset: Salvador, Bahia

So, where does all of this advice come from actually? From the speaker's own experience and beliefs. But that took me awhile to learn. Not the fact that advice comes from the speaker's experience, but more so that it is not the listener's experience. Advice has its limits. Giving advice can be dangerous. Taking advice can be even more dangerous if not done with care.

I still find myself in that Tilt-a-Whirl trap, especially when I have some big decisions & unknowns on my mind. Ever since I kissed the Blarney Stone, I just need to talk about what is on my mind and get my close friends' and family's morsels of advice. In fact, I crave it.

That being said, I am learning to listen objectively and not take everything someone says as truth. This means no disrespect to the advice-giver, I am not suggesting to avoid giving me advice. Just don't be surprised when I don't follow exactly what you said. I am going to think about it, take what I want from it, and do my own sweet little thing. I am learning to take advice objectively, take some soul-centering time, and then acting accordingly. Just as our English and history teachers always emphasized the importance of understanding our sources, so do we as advice-takers and givers.  It breaks down to this: there's a big difference between Wikipedia and Jstor, no denying it.

Next time you are giving advice, think about your audience and choose your words wisely. Next time you take advice, think about the source: How well does this person know you? What parts does s/he know about you? And a crucial one: How well do I know him/her and what experiences have they had to give this advice morsel?

Creatures that Captivate

Keeping a safe distance

 I never had a dog...or a cat for that matter. But at the ripe age of 25, I had my longest and most endearing experience with a couple pets of "my own". Okay, I will cut to the chase. One bright sun-shining day, my two beloved roommates decided to adopt a couple of kittens. As I have never been fond of cats ever since I had to babysit some kids and by default a very sassy cat that wouldn't let me stop petting it without hissing, I was a little hesitant to the idea of having not one but two kittens running around our small apartment. Little did I know what great company they make. While the girls were out of town one weekend, I was faced with the ultimate challenge: cat-sitting. At first, me and the kittens started out at a distance. They stayed in Gi's room; I stayed in mine. Then, well, I thought they could use some fresh air and I let them join me in the kitchen while I cooked. But I was still warming up to the idea of them crawling around in my room. As it was just me and the cats this lonely weekend in Viçosa before university classes started up again, I gave in to their cute purrs and let them explore. By the end of the weekend, we were all watching "Hart of Dixie" in my bed and cuddling together.

Pandora & Cenoura matched my blanket

This story is unique for me, but it's just another story in the world of human experiences. I'm sure every one of my readers (yeah, that's you Mom & Dad) have had a similar one of captivation. Just a week after the kittens and I became buddies, I reread the first book I read in Portuguese over a year ago: The Little Prince. He gave me the words for what had happened between us creatures: captivation. In fact it was the fox that teaches the Little Prince how one is captivated by another. It is not an immediate trap, but a slow and gradual process that takes patience and effort. Each day you get a little closer, you open up yourself a little more, and you make yourself a little more vulnerable in the process. Here the other trusts you, and if the other receives it well, the other will do the same. Next thing you know, you are captivated by the other and the other is captivated by you. Now the fox isn't just any fox, it is your friend the fox. The kittens aren't any kittens of the millions on this Earth, but Cenoura and Pandora, one a little more feisty and the other a little more curious. That girl with the smily pearls isn't like the all the others because she is your friend, and you are captivated forever.

Attempting to snowboard in Big Bear

The irony of this story is my beloved roommate Layssa discovered she has an allergy to cats and the closer they got to her, the more swollen her eyes got. Thus, lesson two from the Little Prince's fox. Once that creature is gone, things that didn't have any purpose for you before can now mean the
world to you. For example, for the fox who doesn't eat wheat but is surrounded by it, he has no interest in the wheat. But after the fox and the Little Prince depart, the wheat will have new significance in the fox's life because it will remind it of the Little Prince's blond hair strands blowing in the wind. Layssa may not have been a fan of Garfield, or had any connection to ginger cats before, but every time she sees one now she will remember the kitten named Cenoura that captivated her before she had to give him away. I had no affinity to grape juice before, but now I will always think of my good friend Sabrina Louise, that spunky Brazilian that captivated me about a year ago. 

Coca-cola Waterfalls

Cachoeira da Capivara

Coca-cola waterfalls- that is how to summarize my trip to the Chapada Diamantina mountain range in
inland Bahia. An hour onto our first day of the 3-day trek, our guide brings us up to a river and shouts out, "Coca-cola!" There it is, acting just like coca-cola does in our stomach, as it erodes the rocks into different shapes and sizes. Rich in trace minerals, it is the color of coke too, making it difficult on our depth perception of the waterfall lagoons. What looks like 100 feet deep is actually just shy of 3 feet, imagine. Okay so maybe other people have already experienced some nature adventure as such, but this was my first time. You could imagine the ohhhs and ahhhs coming from my mouth for three days straight. Figuring out the puzzle of what rock to step on while still making sure to stop and take in the scenery, eating our guide Flor's delicious home-cooked meals from a makeshift rock formation stove, and with no wifi, thus every excuse to be detached from this keyboard, I was in heaven.

Yup, we drank that coke water

Hopping from one Coca-cola waterfall to the next, I sunk into an inner peace that defined my month of July. My parents came and went, same as my friend Raha. A few close Brazilian friends left for the States on their own adventure. In the past months I have had many people come into my life and then I've had to say goodbye. Let me say, packing may get easier but goodbyes never do. That being said, the one person we don't say goodbye to is ourselves, right? Alone in your own skin, what more is there? Lately I have been at the brink of feeling whole alone, which I don't think I've ever fully felt before.

Cachoeira da Fumaça: Smoking Waterfall

What is shocking about the waterfalls is their prominence in nature. Out of nowhere, we would see one in the distance. Rushing water, one whole entity, alone in nature. Or, we feel its mist well before we would come up to the base of the waterfall. Loud, boistrous, charging water, washing away trees, crushing rocks, and singing nightly lullabys to those dosing off nearby. Supported by its environment, and yet sprung across a cliff, these waterfalls have a mind of their own. Forever thinking in metaphors, these coke falls got me thinking about my own feeling of whole alone. To be whole alone is an empowering feeling with intoxicating potential. Whether or not what we give back to our environment is made of something toxic like coke or of something nurturing like trace mineral water is up to us. Depending on how we nurture ourselves, how we develop our individual characteristics, and how we act when we are alone will form what we share with the world. Wholly alone. Seek out this peace and share with me what you find. I'm dying to learn!

Can you see the monkey face? Morro de Macaco

A Test of Love

On a Monkey-Watch Picnic in the Park

My parents have shown me their love and support for my 25 years of life, so consistently and strongly that I have nothing to ever complain about. (Remind me if you ever find me complaining, because I really shouldn't be.) From teaching me to ride a bike, to teaching me how to drive, to driving me off to Berkeley for my freshman year, they have always so openly given me wheels of love and support. So there's this great song by Cristina Ballestero that talks about a test of love between God and man. I didn't quite get it at first- I thought, can and should you really test love? But my mom said so simply, Maggie what do you think we are doing here in Brazil?

Duh. I don't think I've tested their love limits as much as I have these past two years, and especially these past two weeks, as they made the long trek to come visit me in Brazil.

Test number one: One of them who is deathly afraid of flying and uses grandpa's old cough medicine to help her get through the flight, and another who perhaps tore his ACL just before the trip, and these two still got off the plane in São Paulo with twinkles in their eyes and big grins. Or where those grimaces? Test number two: Letting their daughter drive them all over Brazil's winding roads up and down mountains, and worse- out of Rio. We still have all our body parts. Test number three: taking a pit stop for a couple hours to let their daughter renew her visa for another five months. Cringe. Test number four: Surrendering to their daughter's ability to speak a little bit of Portuguese to navigate from one place to another. Test five: Learning a few Portuguese phrases to alleviate their daughter's translation work. (Also, boldly speaking English looking for anyone to just please understand.) Test six: Meeting all of their daughter's friends and talking their heads off night after night, being social chatterboxes. Test seven: Trusting their daughter when she said, "Oh try this, you will like this!". And not saying a word when they really just wanted a Pinot Grigio and not a Chardonnay. Test eight: Saying goodbye to their daughter, once again, at the airport. And many many more quizzes in between. But hey, who's counting?

Selaron Steps in Rio de Janeiro

I've learned these past few years that love isn't a feeling, it is an action. Love is a choice. And as I see many of my friends getting hitched, I understand how that is just the first choice in many acts of love. I can't count my blessings on my fingers and that is mostly because of the constant loving support my parents have given me in all my adventures and decisions.

You may see an independent girl stomping through Brazil, but that is only because of two people that decided to make a vow 30 years ago to grow and nurture a beautiful family and try to add something good to the world. The least I can do is share their love with everyone around me. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for you truly have passed this test of love with flying colors.