SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT...

When you ask there is a 50/50% chance you will get what you are asking for. When you never dare to ask there is almost a 100% chance you will never get it.

Algo para pensar hoy…

Cuando preguntas existe un 50/50% de probabilidad de que conseguirás lo que persigues. Cuando nunca te atreves a preguntar existe casi un 100% de probabilidd de que nunca lo consigas.

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS

Cuando la vida te da limones…Ya sabemos cómo va el resto del dicho. Contando mi historia nuevamente en un programa televisivo la audiencia no puede evitar experimentar sentimientos encontrados acerca de la misma: horror, tristeza, lástima, admiración, sorpresa…Mi historia, la que se puede contar en tres minutos y los detalles que falta el tiempo para divulgarlos, me parece fascinante e interesante, pero sé que hay miles de individuos en el mundo que han hecho de situaciones difíciles y desgarradoras fuentes de inspiración y motivación para superarse y evolucionar con entereza, valor, fuerza y sensibilidad. Es normal sentir desacierto y dolor, angustia y tristeza, preocupación y dejadez. Estos sentimientos pocos placenteros, y posiblemente el resultado de vivencias amargas y difíciles, pueden servir para ponernos en contacto con la energía para el cambio que necesitamos. La comodidad nos sienta bien en tanto y en cuanto nos sentimos completos y realizados. Cuando la comodidad o el miedo nos obstaculizan para movernos hacia delante en una nueva dirección que nos permita alcanzar un estado de bienestar y plenitud, éstos se convierten en nuestros enemigos número uno.

Las cadenas emocionales que atan nuestra conducta y perpetúan situaciones negativas en nuestras vidas son fuertes y difíciles de romper, pero muchas veces el cambio llega a raíz de eventos no gratos, cuando nos damos cuenta de que tenemos que pasar por el fuego del cambio para emerger de él en mejores condiciones.

La historia que ya se escribió en mi vida es como una película a la cual miro ahora sentada en mi sofá. Falta mucho de ella por escribir y contar y espero siempre poder aprender de ella, de mi vida como principal maestro de lecciones importantes para evolucionar plena.

…We know how the rest of the say goes. Telling my story once again for a talk show, the audience was sad, heartbroken, and surprised to hear it. I find my story fascinating, the one that I can tell and the details that I cannot share for lack of time to do it, is one of endurance and survival, but as interesting as my story sounds I know there is a lot of people in the world with more shocking and amazing stories to tell; events that have made them re-emerge stronger, wiser, and more sensitive in spite of all the ugliness and painful circumstances. As it is normal to feel angst, uncertainty, and sadness, we have to realize that many times those feelings arise to tell us something: something has to change. Many times comfort and fear work against us in pursuing a better state, to evolve whole. Let unpleasant situations and feelings be the catalyst you need to take action to change.

The piece of my history that has already been written is like a movie that I watch now sitting from a comfy couch. There is still much of it to write and tell, but I hope my life can always be my most valuable teacher.

VIOLENCIA CONTRA LA MUJER

Visitando el blog de Seoman me enteré que el pasado sábado, 25 de noviembre se celebró el Día Internacional Contra la Violencia de Género. La fecha pasó desapercibida para mí, sin embargo, hoy sabiendo de tal celebración, me cuestiono por qué siquiera tenemos que tener una fecha especial dedicada a recordarle a las personas a no maltratar a las mujeres. Me parece barbárico que aún en el Siglo 21 tengamos que recordarnos a no agredir y victimizar a la mujer, y que aún esta problemática esté lejos de ser resuelta en el mundo.

Las causas de violencia contra la mujer son muchas. El gran problema es cómo se perpetúan estos círculos viciosos de generación en generación, siendo aceptados por ambas partes (agresor y agredida) como norma y estilo de vida esperado y modelado y enseñado a generaciones futuras.

En un artículo pasado leí que las jóvenes Latinas están en gran riesgo de caer en relaciones abusivas durante sus años de escuela, y al preguntárseles por qué aceptan este tipo de relación responden que sus parejas actúan agresivamente por el amor tan grande que les tienen. Muchas mujeres llegan a la adultez con este mismo paradigma y continúan aceptando la violencia como algo aceptable para sus vidas y una validación y prueba contundente del amor de la contraparte para con ellas (¿qué pasó con las flores y las serenatas?). Algunas mujeres definen maltrato como abuso físico severo y no se dan cuenta de que el maltrato tiene muchas formas y caras, a veces sin llegar a la agresión física.

Es triste que una mujer crea que el amor duele, lastima y tortura para ser real y tangible. Es triste que una mujer cuando se da cuenta de que el amor no tiene que doler piense que no tiene alternativas para salirse de una relación en la cual la agresión y la violencia imperan. Mucho más triste es que los agresores se sientan con la potestad y el derecho libre de utilizar la violencia a su antojo en contra de sus parejas. Ninguna mujer debe tener que vivir en una relación de maltrato. Ningún niño debe presenciar cómo su papá llega a la violencia física o verbal contra su mamá. Ningún hombre debe sentirse con el derecho de poder agredir a su pareja.

La violencia de género se detiene con educación y concientización, para que las mujeres entiendan que no tienen que vivir la vida en pareja llenas de temor o aceptar el maltrato, y saber sus opciones y alternativas. El esfuerzo tiene que ser conjunto entre todos los componentes de la sociedad para levantar nuevas generaciones con una visión positiva hacia el respeto mutuo y la sana convivencia. Mensaje: El maltrato no es amor.

Joy

Luego de la ausencia vuelvo a mí. Nunca me voy, ciertamente, y cuando regreso así parece, que nunca me fui, que siempre he estado aquí. Viendo la vida desde varias perspectivas, las mías y las de otros, me inspiré a escribir esto. Se me antojó escribirlo en inglés porque me sale mejor así. Este escrito habla de la alegría, la que a mí siempre me acompaña, aún en los momentos en los cuales las sonrisas son tenues. La alegría es una decisión, una elección. Que sea tuya y así nadie te la podrá quitar.

"Tengo alegría que el mundo no me ha dado y que el mundo no me puede quitar". Esclavos Negros en el siglo 19.

“I have joy that the world did not give to me, and joy that the world cannot take away”. 19th Century Negro Slaves

Wow!! How powerful this is! Joy is like water that comes out of a fountain, refreshing, welcomed, needed, and much appreciated. To live with joy is to find contentment and cheer in the very little things of life as well as the big things. As Dr. Robin Smith says, joy is a choice we make whether things go right or wrong, whether things go our way or not. A joyful person always irradiates good energy and vibe that attracts others and gives the beholder a positive perspective of life. To be merry is to have the certainty that all that happens in our lives happens for a greater purpose and offers us the opportunity to learn, no matter how harsh the circumstances might be. Joy gives us strength to face difficulties and look at our possibilities with the confidence that at the end our joy will be even greater than before.

I have met a lot of fantastic and amazing people in my life. I have met those people who, no matter the situation how difficult their lives are, they always have a positive approach to life and a smile on their face. There is time for everything in this life, and even when crying, let the tears wash away the blues when it’s time to reveal an even stronger, deeper and more appreciated cheer, just like the rain reveals a bluer sky and sometimes a beautiful rainbow. Let joy always be with you, within you, and show it proudly. It is contagious!

BEING A MOTHER

As a mother, especially as the other of a son, I can really appreciate this story. I would like for my son to value and treasure our relationship way beyond his childhood. I hope he is never too busy to spend time with me when the walks of his life take him away from me to new worlds and new people. I hope he evolves to remain the loving child he is today in his adult body. Mostly, I hope he is always aware of the immense love I feel for him, one that could never be duplicated, tarnished, or diminished.

The story below was sent to me by my mother-in-law, mother of three boys. Fortunately, she is not the lady from this story, as her three sons value, love, and treasure her deeply for the wonderful mother she is. With luck my son will turn out to be like her sons.

BEING A MOTHER

After 21 years of marriage, My wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, "I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you." The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. "What's wrong, are you well," she asked? My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. "I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you, "I responded. "Just the two of us." She thought about it for a moment, and then said, "I would like that very much."

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's. "I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to hear about our meeting."

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. "It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small, "she said. "Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I responded.

During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other's life. We talked so much that we missed the movie.

As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you." I agreed. "How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home. "Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.

A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her. Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: "I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son."

At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: "I LOVE YOU" and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till "some other time."

Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby ... somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, "normal" is history.

Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct . somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.

Somebody said being a mother is boring .somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.

Somebody said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good"....somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.

Somebody said "good" mothers never raise their voices ....somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.

Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother ....somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.

Somebody said you can't love the second child as much as you love the first .... omebody doesn't have two children.

Somebody said a mother can find all the answers to her child-rearing questions in the books.... somebody never had a child stuff beans up his nose or in his ears.

Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery....somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten .. or on a plane headed for military "boot camp."

Somebody said a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back ...somebody never organized seven giggling Brownies to sell cookies.

Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married....somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.

Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home....somebody never had grandchildren.

Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her.... omebody isn't a mother.

Amazing Story

http://www.break.com/index/truly_amazing_blind_kid.html

Humans are truly masterpieces with talents beyond our own awareness, and the capability to do the unthinkable. The link above portrays a story worth telling, and although it brought tears to my eyes, it filled my heart with immense joy. Let that story inspire you today to excel and be grateful.

Los humanos somos obras de arte con talentos más allá de nuestro conocimiento y la capacidad de hacer lo inimaginable. El enlace que aparece arriba muestra una historia digna de ser contada, y a pesar de que la misma me hizo llorar también llenó mi corazón de inmenso júbilo. Que esta historia te inspire hoy a ser todo lo que quieres ser.

PENIS OBSESSION

I recently went back home to Puerto Rico, and took my two-year-old son with me. Upon our arrival, everyone was overly excited to see us. We were very happy to see our family and friends as well. As expected, everybody paid extra and special attention to Paul Vincent at all times, turning him into the center of the world in which he was the main and most important star.

As the days went by, I could not help to notice the special attention his genitalia was getting. I realized then something that I have grown up with all my life: the perpetual worship of the male reproductive organ. My son’s genitalia was the object of attention, questions such as: “to how many girlfriends does this belong to?”, “to whom does this belong to?”; and comments such as “this is mine”, and “I am going to get it”. To people from other cultures these comments might sound perverted and outrageous, but to the Puerto Rican culture these are comments that have been passed on from generation to generation, unquestioned, celebrated, and widely accepted.

For some reason, those comments hit me now, although I have heard them all my life, directed toward boys, of course. This time those words got me thinking: what is it so important about male genitalia that deserves to be celebrated on a regular basis? Why is everybody, males and females, obsessed with babies penises and teach them they are the epitome of their lives? Why has no one questioned the penis worship before? (At least, not anyone I know). And lastly, does anybody celebrate female genitalia?

Growing up in Puerto Rico I cannot remember anytime my genitalia was celebrated as a baby or a small girl. Nobody asked to how many boyfriends my genitalia belonged to; nobody said how big or pretty it was, or told me I would break many hearts with it (or get a lot of penises with it for that matter). I am sure someone would be totally disturbed at this article, especially when the questions about my genitalia come about, however, it seems totally permissible, admissible, and even expected to talk about male genitalia in those terms, at least in the Puerto Rican culture. My point is, I finally realized machismo and its perpetuation starts with the adoration and reverence of the male penis (which by the way, the bigger the better according to my culture), by all in society.

Needless to say I had to advice everyone to stay off and clear my child’s genitalia, as it is just that and not a totem, and I do not want my child to think of himself in terms of his penis as it does not define who he is or who he will be. I am not against celebrating any body part, really, but I do not want my son to get the narrow perspective that he is his penis and that his penis controls him and dictates his present and future behavior and place in society.

Ausencia y Regreso

Estuve ausente. Me fui a recorrer el pasado y anduve en él, con el paso lento que permite mirar las cosas desde otra perspectiva. Ya regresé a mi presente, a mi ayer no terminado, a mi futuro en construcción y aún no forjado. Regresé de mí hacia mí por el cual pasó el tiempo dejando su huella sin saberlo y sin pensarlo. Regresé igual y otra, con muchas otras adentro de mí haciéndose eco en mis palabras recordadas del ayer que se nutre de mi hoy. Volví al ayer y regresé al presente, diferente e igual. Fue reconfortante viajar al pasado y devolverme nuevamente al actual ahora que me llamaba. Desde aquí y desde siempre estoy.