Happy New Years … Feliz Anos Novos

The New Year Is here! Together, we gathered to celebrate my father’s 88 birthday. But this year it had a special taste. Repeating the tradition he started when we were all children several years ago, we gathered in a churrascaria for a Brazilian banquet on January first, the day of his actual birthday. It was because of that fact that my grandmother gave my father an unique last name: Nascimento (birth). Along with the celebration of my mother new birth of her relationship with her health condition gained in Hawaii, we all celebrate the birth of a new moment in our family, based on love, acceptance and sharing. Let the new year bring us lots of new births with the birth of every day, every full moon, every smile.

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Otherness (Qualidade de Ser Differente)

From Stewart’s tonight I heard the word “Otherness”. I felt in love with the word. I thought it meant something about feeling like the other. Them, the dictionary defined it as “the quality or fact of being different”. Them I concluded that I was not that far since what is the other? Different. I wrote this short poem a few minutes ago.

Otherness
I am this one and I am the other.
I am the one and I am this other.
I am this other and I am the one.
I am this and I am the other one.
I am. And I am this other, the one.

Lovesong (Canção de Amor)

About four months ago I heard for the first time Adele’s version of “The Cure” beautiful song “Lovesong”. I loved the lyrics and took the lyrics as a personal lovesong to myself, in the process of self discovery and acceptance. The photograph below is my great friend and yogi Jared Sam taken in Black Sand Beach, Hawaii earlier this year. Finding serenity within, I encounter the place for self love and open myself to the possibilities of loving another human being in its totality. Mahalo to Jared for the beautiful pose!

Lovesong

Dualities

I am living between two words.

A part of me is wine.
Velvet red.
Existential rhymes.
Colors of Almodovar.
Pictures of light.
Communal energy

The other part is flesh.
Pale yellow.
Organizational structures.
Gray boxes.
Ego shadows.
Individual and illicit.

A part of me is my mother.
Feminine and nurture.
Silent touch.
Understanding.
A flowing river.
Laughing the happiness
That no longer can hide.

The other part is male
White and in charge.
rationalizing numbers.
Return on investment.
Instant kharma.
A golden fish fighting for life.
Fins stained by BP oil.
Laying at the bottom
Watching deaf
The colorless ocean of busy sardines.
Swinging round and round
Lost in this fishbowl of insanity.

When Miracles Happen (Quando Milagres Acontecem)

scene from film The Budda by David G.

When miracles happen
The coffee is being brewed
The pão de queijo is melting in oven
The first spring rains in Ribeirão de Areia

When miracles happen
I watch Pedro Almodovar
I photograph cuca in the park
I see your face

When miracles happen
Someone is giving good advice
Someone is telling a story
Simone is singing “To Voltando”

When Miracles happen
I close my eyes
I take a deep breath
I get a back scratch

Open Your Cuca to Life and its Magic

When I first looked into her eyes, I knew I had no other option. The sweet eyes in the strong body often associated with violence, held Tiffany and I hostage. We sat in front of her gate, in the humane society rescue center, for an hour looking at her. We left with her. She has being pure bless and a lot of fun. Her personality is a mix of a thoughtful philosopher and goofy teen spirit. That’s how she got her name Cuca. Cuca is the name of a famous Brazilian children’s literature character who is a charming alligator that lives in the bamboo forest making magic portions and tricks to people that approaches the woods. In modern portuguese, Cuca means mind. A “boa cuca” is a connected smart mind. A “Cuca fresca” is a relaxed mind. And it goes.

Cuca hates raining days. Yesterday was rainy. She had problems to pee and ended up peeing in the bed in the morning. I only realized it later in the evening when I was getting ready for bed. On an attack of madness I screened while I walked towards her while she curled her body against the wall in an instinctive defense reaction. I was suddenly stopped by a feeling of peace and reasoning that hold my body for some minutes like if an invisible force field blocked me from reaching her while angry. I stood still in the middle of the room while calmed down and thought about my absence on her life lately and our friendship. I felt remorse for some of my actions and lack of time for her training. I walk to the other side of the room, sat at the red bench and started crying with my eyes closed. Cuca walkedtowards me, laid down under my legs and touched my left ankle with both of her front paws. I felt it, stopped crying and looked down. I remembered my recent Reiki healing class and I felt her energy. I said out loud: “I know baby, everything will be ok”. We stayed there for a few minutes and I laid down on the floor by the bed. She walker around my entire body rubbing her coat against mine and approached me with the “red ring” Toy and we played with it on the floor like we used to do every night when I first got her. I felt that strong bond once again. I remembered thinking in the past why she didn’t like that toy since she never destroyed it like she does to all the toys in record time. It is her sacred ring. It seals friendship, love and the connection between two creatures.

This morning I spot this photo of her and I wrote this blog note to document the magic and majesty of this moment.

Cuca is pure Magic

I learned with the animals

To rest under large trees in hot summer days

To announce the rain before the thunder

To live in group just like ants.

I learned with the animals

Not be afraid to gain respect

To howl in the dark of the night to bring clarity

To build a nest to have a place to call home.

I learned with the animals

To mark the territory that is mine by right

To know that the earth is a community

To be simple and defection free.

I learned with the animals

To be natural so you are wholesome

That the key to the matter is my heart

To make the calculated and righteous approach.

I learned with the animals

That we are the ones that makes our place perfect

That reason not always has a reason

that is better to be instinctive and truthful

than being a heartless scientist or pragmatic philosopher.

(Adaptation from original poem Rangel Castilho)

Lessons From My Father (Lições de Meu Pai)

My father Mario

Written on November 9, 2009. Became relevant in my heart once again this morning.

“This morning I went with my father to buy coffee. He looked at me with unusual excitement of something that he was waiting impatiently to tell me. He started, in a way that only he can do, cursing Brazilian congressmen for their notorious corruptive ways. On the early morning TV News show, he watch religiously, the main headline was about two high Brazilian senators were stealing public money by hiding it in socks while going through airports. He mentioned the pain of impunity and his life of guilty free mind by never haven stolen even a pencil.

I was directly connected into todays corporate and business practices where there is some type of moral and ethics crisis reigning individuality and financial progress. Here is an adaptation of Brazilian singer Ana Carolina poem named “Só de Sacanagem” (Only to Mess With Them) into my personal outlook to it.

My heart is jumping!

How many times will my hope be shaken in a tireless search for truth?

Everything that it is out there,

Markets, Wall Street and meeting rooms,

Gritty games and unstoppable wealth accumulation.

– I just can’t take it anymore.

Our planet perishes.

I choose not to see it while sipping another extra caramel machiatto.

– Extra trash please.

Our species suffers.

I stop at a “Thanksgiving” sale.

– Thanks.

I understand that challenging times

are a good way to shaper ourselves,

But it hurts to realize that the comfort of some,

under our current methods of development,

means the destruction of life elsewhere.

My heart is covered with darkness,

but the light is simple.

It comes from the repeated advices from my father and my mother

and the good ones that preceded them:

– “Don’t Steal”

– “Return the pencil of your little friend.”

– “This book is not yours, my son.”

Well, since there are poeple out there messing with me

and the old faith of my suffered people,

I am going to mess back:

Even more honest I will become.

Only because I can!

Some will say:

– Don’t be a fool, this has been, since beginning the rule of the game.

I will say:

I don’t mind, this will be my carnival, my high.

I will trust once and again.

My brother, my son, my friends and I.

We will play clean.

We will play fair.

We will pay who we own and collect clean from our customers.

With time we will be able to be free, ethical and etc.

They will say:

– “It’s useless. Around here everyone is, has been and will always be an asshole.”

I will say:

– I am not allowing it. My hope is immortal. Do you hear me? Immortal.

I know we cannot change the begin but, if we want,

We can change the end.