consumed

When you look at a child, what do you see? If I am graced with such presence, the rest of the world and everything in view peacefully disappears and all I see is the innocent and mysterious life that stands in front of me. Being a mother has given me the gift of empathy. While I've always had a sensitive soul, more often than not I ponder that root. I've recently been reading a book about teaching tolerance to children about the world's differences as well as being empathetic to any child's background. But can empathy be taught? I definitely feel that a person is born with a leveled amount of compassion and empathy, but through life circumstances that trait either grows or fades. Empathy can come in many forms. It is silent by the way someone feels deep in thier heart. It is loud by the way someone acts and creates awareness through beliefs, that untimately, are driven by a persons true empathy. The more I dig deep, the more I realize that children are the true divine root of all empathy in the world. As children ourselves at one point in our lives, we were young and innocently blinded to the world's prejudice's. We were interested in people's differences whether it be color, shapes, or sizes. Curious in a way that demonstrated compassion and empathy. Unconditional love shined as little children, when we wanted to understand when someone was hurt or sad, and not judge them. A time when we wanted the whole Universe to be on our same page, and if they weren't, it was up to us to make them feel welcome, as if everyone belonged. I see it happen everyday. As I recently was given the amazing opportunity to teach, being an early educator has opened my eyes even more. As an example, the children don't see color as a form of labeling, but more as a fact and a trait to be recognized. When asked to color in thier traced hands on paper the color of their skin, they came up with genuine colors such as red, gray, and 'dark'. I think the best thing to take away from a child's view on the world is their freedom. The freedom and excuse to be curious and compassionate as young, empathetic, beings. Questioning everything, then on a quest to understand.

my story about Lucy

She was the backbone of all tradition in our family. Memories will never fade of walking up to her iron cast door when I was small, and entering a small house made to fit 8 filled with 30. The smell of tamles, green chile, and my favorite smell to this day, frijoles in the crockpot. All the women in the kitchen, elbow to elbow helping my Auntie pull dishes out of one of her ovens, setting tables and eating merrily in between to feed the hungry men and kids waiting in the dining room. When it was time to eat, it wasn't just a meal, it was an all night event. The dining room was a vision and smell I will never forget. A long table like the last supper, furry carpet, cabintes filled with glasses and fine china we never used. The buffet table showcasing all my Aunties hard days work was at least 12 feet long (at least in my childhood memory), with enough food to feed an army, or at least to last through night. To this day, one of my cherished treasures is a concept, not an item. The beauty of leaving the spread out all night long, to tastfully go back for more to sit down and eat again, stuffing myself with food and great consversations with my Auntie Lucy and Uncle Ernie. Even as a little girl, it's been in my blood to eat, a lot. When the Silva family came together with food, there was no messing around. It was the way to hand out love. Either in the form of bizcochos and cans of pepsi when you just stopped by, or huge plates of heavy sinful mexican delights oozing out of saran wrap on plastic plates to be re-visited later that night when we got home. Auntie never had judgement, always had love. The builder of family values and unconditional love in my heart. Like a mother of my father, and truly the host with the most. The parties and celebrations will live on forever. I strive to be just half of what an amazing family woman she was. I will continue to open my door with handouts of love and food, never to be put away. Rest in Peace Auntie Lucy. It breaks my heart to have been loved by someone like you, because your presence can never be replaced.

quote of the day

"Boys have a penis. Girls have a lasagna."

Oasis

He's 5, not 4 anymore.

He's tall enough to reach the sink,

He's able to understand love, I think.

He's everything I want to be,

presently engaged with the world at his fingertips.

Loved unconditionley by those he touches.

Emmeresed in life, questions unfold with each wonder.

He picks out his own shirts.

He's going to tie his own converse, determined at first.

He teaches me things about myself that runs deep,

He'll never know his effect on me.

Through his amazing chocolate eyes, life I see.

From the moment we met, I'd give my life for him.

As he grows into a little man I'll nudge him to stand on the limb,

To be the man his dad has been to me,

To be the way my dad constantly loves me.

woah, deep man...

It's immensely scary and somehow peaceful too, to know that this universe is something bigger than just ourselves. This shocking piece of information is relevant at times when I least expect it. The thought of our connection to everything and the true unconditional love that everyone is capable of, seems to both cloud and clear my judgement on a regular basis. The tiniest of memory, or largest of beauty will make my mind do somersaults and completely flip into the realization that we really are connected, at all times. We are not that different, you and I. Our images precede us, but our mark on the world has no prize. Its affect is seen in the eyes of the beholder. The air I breathe is the air you have exhaled. The creation of mankind is truly divine. It's moment like these, when I realize that the universe is something bigger than just myself that I want to keep and share. Share with you, because I know you get this too. It's the unexplainable that keeps us going. Hopes. Fears. Questions. Dreams. Like a wise man once said in my all time fav movie Flashdance, "If you loose your dream, you die." Oh, what a feeling...

I wish...

all closure was like moving. You can send off the 'old' to the thrifty store and let someone else now 'deal'. You can wrap up your precious belongings and bring them with you wherever you go. You can clean up that dirty house, and walk away. Move into your new gorgeous castle and decorate all over again. The more I think about it, the more it is. Wow. That was easy...

our first dance

"since you rescued me, the whole world is there to see..."