My Last Day In The 40s

Today is my last day in my 40s. Tomorrow I will be officially a 5.0 lady. Before this whole pandemic thing I was planning to celebrate the beginning of my new decade traveling. I hadn’t have picked any destinations yet, but that was my plan. And it was a big one. Traveling around the world for a couple of months, on my own, the way I most like to travel. Discovering wonderful, unusual places, trying great vegetarian dishes, savoring a different blend of decaf in a lovely cafe around the corner, bumping into people with unfamiliar faces…

Of course this is no longer a possibility due to the pandemic… So here I am, still grounded in my lovely and cozy house saying goodbye to my 40s. Not alone. With family and cats. And my thoughts. And planning to spend my birthday…



Practicing Kundalini Yoga.


Watching something in some streaming.

Reading one or two of my virtual library books.

Eating a never eaten chocolate cake and the best cinnamon rolls I can find.


In resume, doing things that I like, enjoy (sometimes not that much) and fell whole doing it.

Because that is what I want my daily life in my 50s full of.

Fulfilling activities.

Traveling I will add to this list as soon as this pandemic ends.

And it will end.

Reuniting with dear friends over a brunch for endless talks too.

And will keep adding as I discovery new fulfilling things to do just because.

My 40s was an eventful decade. With good moments, bad moments and mostly vanilla ones. Just like life is. Though but fulfilling. Fulfilling but disappointing. Disappointing but worth living. Worth living but not quite there yet. Not quite there yet but somewhere in the way to it. Hopefully.

A paradox that complemented itself.

I still have a lot work to do on myself, on my life, in this planet. I feel as if I am just begging to know where to go, what to do, where to be, who I really am and how to express that in every little thing I breathe life to. I am not even close to figure out my purpose in life or even to achieve what I think it’s supposed to be my purpose in this life. All I know is that I am here, after a long absence, but here, feeling myself again, still standing, alive and kicking.

Silently. But vibrant. Inside for now.

And little by little sculpting my best version of myself. It demands commitment that sometimes escapes from hands, willing that not always is strong as it should be, focus that I struggle to deal with in regular basis, passion that is still lost somewhere along my way and that believing that anything is possible and for some unfortunate reason I think I am not deserving of. But regardless, here I am. Trying. Over and over again. Because if there is one thing or maybe two or even three I do have and have kept me up is resilience.

And that undying desire to make it where it may be.

And having my back all along the way. Never letting me give up from what it is really important. Not until I make it.

But first I must know where to go, where my destination is. Without it, I can give my first step into that direction. Cause I don’t know which direction that is. I need to go deep, so I can listen to my whispering soul where I should go,

And go.

Enjoying the ride with its ups and downs. And flatlines too.

That is my wish for my birthday tomorrow. For my new decade. Good health, luck, love and prosperity in all fields too. And that feeling that I deserve all that.

So goodbye bittersweet 40s and hello dear undisclosed 50s. I hope you reserve for me incredible adventures and that well balanced blend of good, bad and vanilla moments. I don’t promise much, just to be the best version of me I can be. All the way through it.

Or at least, as much as I can.

Be welcome.


Today Is A Solstice’s Day

If you are above the Ecuador, it’s Winter Solstice. If you are below the Ecuador as I am, it’s Summer Solstice. In any case, today is a Solstice’s Day. I must confess that only recently I have become fond of Solstice Celebrations. And I also confess that I don’t know much about it regarding the spiritual meaning of it, but for me, it has become a day to clean, detox my house (in this case my body, mind and soul), nourish it and set the vibe for the new set of seasons. Focus on what I want to bring to my reality and let it go whatever no longer serves me.

Having said that, as far as I have heard, this particular Solstice’s Day (December 21st, 2020) marks the beginning of a new era: The Aquarian Age, supposedly a kinder, more compassionate, collective, equal, fraternal age. And I really would like to think that something like that is on its way. But if it’s, it’s gonna take a very long time to actually begin, indeed. If there is one lesson that this whole Pandemic illustrate very clearly to all of us is that people in general, in its majority really don’t care as much about caring for one another. People care up to a tiny little point if that much. People are so locked in their selfish bubble that I cannot see a better world from this perspective. At least not now or anytime soon.

Still, I am really happy for this Solstice that will bring the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn, something pretty rare and pretty amazing because they as one will shine as Christmas Star. And I hope that from now on, Aquarian Age or not, we can bring more light to our lives as an I, as much as a We. Drop by drop, one little small step at the time, but always towards the right direction. So one day we can be one. And shine all together.

Or at least something pretty close to it.


Disappointed I am. With some people, some Zen, supposedly caring people, healers even, who are taking this whole quarantine-pandemic in a complete wrong, selfish way. People who should know better and act better.

But they don’t.

Currently, in the middle of so much pain and sorrow, they are more concerned about their lack of “freedom “, the imposed restrictions, the uncomfortable use of masks and the impossibility of going out just like it used to be.

And others are taking way too light the restrictions of social distancing and the quarantine mode, going out and about, just because, not for the essential.

Yep, life is currently interrupted. At least, the way we knew it. And it really sucks, but life is interrupted in the attempt of stopping the virus to spread, to give time to doctors and nurses to take care of everybody who might need care. Life is interrupted to save lives, the most we possibly can. Because lives do matter, regardless the age, health condition, race, gender and status quo. And they should be our first and main focus. And we should do our very best, our part to stop this damn pandemic. If we handle it correctly, everything else will follow. And bit by bit we will all return to our lives as we knew it. Hopefully with great lessons learned and applied, with more compassion and kindness in our actions, with focus on what it really matters, appreciating the ones we love and spending more time, a good time with them.

But that is just a hope. A wishful thinking. Because when I look at those people who as I said should know better and act better and the way they are approaching this whole crisis (and I am not even tackling the conspiracy theories they are firmly believing in) I can’t help thinking that yep, life will return to its normal self, but not with improved beings or even an improved reality. Not this time around. Not yet.

Because even people who should know better and act better are not.

And although this is not a surprise, it’s unfortunate.

It’s sad.

And highly disappointing.

Is Love Ever In Vain?

Image by Shift and Sheriff from Pixabay.

Yesterday, early in the morning, out of nowhere it came to me that it was an ex-boyfriend’s birthday. My last boyfriend. He actually was not a real boyfriend just someone I was starting to know. The whole experience was not a smooth one, because we lived our “romance” for most of its brief time a Continent apart. And since I am not the best when the subject is keeping in touch via messages, videos, texting… I guess at some point he thought I was losing interest in him. But I was not. I was just being me, the antisocial me, the person who sucks in keeping in touch. Or to keep any relationship, to be fair.

So when we reunited al last, he ditched me. With distance and then words in a message. Still don’t know why exactly, but I let him go. Easily. Not because I was no longer interested in trying but because I realized I didn’t like the version of him that didn’t like me. That simple.

And yet, that hard.

We moved on, in different directions and up to this moment our paths haven’t crossed. And I don’t think it ever will. Because that is what happens every time with me and my relationships. They only last till they last. And when it’s over it doesn’t become something else, just a nothing.

And that is the tuff part for me; this nothing afterwards. Because all my exes or most of them were keepers, men that I would like to keep around, in my life. Not for sex or any romantic innuendo but as a friend or at least someone that somehow would still be part of my life, even if sporadically. To talk, laugh here and there, over a coffee. Or a tea.

It’s not because we are no longer in love or falling in love that we couldn’t keep in touch. At least for me. For them it seems an impossible task. When it’s over it’s like I got a terrible contagious disease and they feel as if they need to be far away from me. As far as they can. It’s a matter of life and death.

Dramatic but true. And that is how endings like that makes me feel. A failure. Worthless. Nothing.

Just someone who never had a bad, sore breakup does believe that the first impressions are the ones that remain. In this case, it’s not. It’s that last sad, ugly, sore memory of that melancholic breakup that will stick with you, that will flavor the whole story with its bitterness, regardless the story you had before it. Because when you look back and recall the story, it’s not the good silly times we had together, the way our conversation flew as if we were best friends for years and years, the way he knew how to put a big smile in my face that will come up. All of it is vanished and what remains is how bitter and sour was that ending. How horrible it made you feel. And it’s impossible not to think that that story deserved a better end. Not necessarily happily ever after, but a much better one. I deserved better. You deserved better. We deserved better.

Would then this and other love stories with bad endings be in vain, I wonder?

It sure does feel like that, but then again love is love. And love, regardless the ending, is never, ever in vain.



Photo: Pixabay.

Yet, still moving.

Where to?

No idea.

But always moving.

Away from my dreams.

For sure.

Because they are THE things I am doing my very best (or worst?) avoiding to go for.

So I move…

In other directions.

Any direction.

Away from them.

That is why I fell stuck, frozen in time. Because although I am moving I am going nowhere really. Not where I should go.

And that sucks.

Big time.

Not only because time is getting short each day, month and year I procrastinate yet another step in the right direction.

But because deep inside I know I am not doing what I am suppose to do.

Funny thing is I don’t think I am moving too far from my dreams.

I stick around.

Just in case?

With a wide opened eye on them.

A heart beating in their rhythm.

But my feet, damn feet!, follows my scary mind that keep on walking away from them.

Poor thing.

Just going round and round, waiting to jump in any moment.

Actually, not in any any moment, but the perfect moment when inspiration becomes so impossible to avoid that I have no other alternative other than jump in.

All in.



But the sad true is the fear of failure (or should I say, to succeed?), the ghost of perfectionism, the critical devil inside keep guarding me from this vital jump.

With words.





Till when will I be around waiting for that perfect moment that will never ever come? I wonder.

Because there is no such thing as the perfect moment. Just the moment. And by itself, without harsh judgements or romantic ideals, it can become the perfect moment.

Or something very close to it.

I don’t fear the answer. I know the answer.

What I fear the most is to know that even knowing the recipe to unfrozen me, here I am, frozen as an Iceberg.


But not really.


And yet moving.

Round and round.

Going nowhere.

With this huge and amazing ocean to brave ahead.