Very often I feel depressed. It is not a very happy thing to confess. I wonder why there is a wave of shame as I say this. Even as a child, when tears would come, (and they came very often), I was ridiculed by them. Somehow crying and feeling miserable made others miserable too. But stronger than shame are those deep feelings of sadness that seem to rob life away from me. They come and hijack my desire to do, to move, to create. When energy to live life in its full velocity and intensity is down, the word that comes to me as a name for it is depression. It is a scary word. The images that come usually include a sense of loneliness, of stagnation, of abandon and death.

My sadness and depression seem to take me to other places though. They take me to a space of darkness that I have grown fond of. When one speaks of darkness, our imagination takes us to images of monsters, ghosts and zombies.  These creatures succeeded for many years to keep me away from crossing their locked up fortress. The avoidance of them came in the urgency to find laughter, friends and success. The inevitability of depression has kept me very close to these gates, and as I see these creatures closer to me, the friendlier they appear to be. The eyeless drooling zombie who promises to take away every loved being from my side is the one I fear the most.

So one day I decided to have a conversation with him. He couldn’t look at me straight in the eye for obvious reasons, but he leaned forward as a sign that he was interested in what I was petitioning.

-Would you let me in the fortress? I asked.

He smiled mockingly and opened the heavy gate. As heavy as it it seemed, he was very proficient in his ability to slide it to let me in . He smelled me as I walked past him and followed me in. Shivers.

My heart raced and my breathing grew shallow as I feared dying in that instant, so I turned around to see how close the zombie was to me, just to find that there was no zombie behind me and all I could see was a beautiful sunset and a orange and purple colors of dusk. The soft colors brought my breath back to me and I stopped to take it all in.

Crossing the gate of my fear and befriending my monsters have brought me to beauty. The pain of loss, the pain of cancer, slow death of angel face to a disease too difficult to mention has been a hard thing to carry. It has been difficult to try to understand how the choosing goes. Who gets cancer? Who gets to live more than 2 years? Who grows and who dies before learning to walk? I have never found answers to these questions.

Murder beats it all though. There are no words that can describe the horror of such an act that robbed the most perfect mother from my side. As much as I know I will never recover from these losses, in my fortress, which by the way is no fortress at all, I have found a boundaryless space of grass that invites me to wander and wonder without the demand to arrive at any place or be anything or anybody. I get to ask all these questions and have the answers come to me in a soft breeze of Truth expressed in the images and sounds that this space brings to me.

When early morning comes, I walk out and I am greeted with sounds of birds and roosters.  I wish I was more knowledgeable about birds to tell you about the variety of what I hear. I also wish I had more technology awareness to have you hear my recording of this morning´s greeting.   They speak to me of a new day, of a new beginning, of all that is before me that is familiar and yet so new. Sounds that welcome me into the adventure of what I am willing to create in a space of both the predictable and the unpredictable. They teach me that there is no way of knowing what will come, but our true nature makes us sing our own song, for today, and only today.

I take a deep breath with that realization and my gaze turns downward. I find the exuberance of a blooming so magnificent that words are too limited to express the image. Every tiny bloom making its way to express its full potencial. Every other bloom making way for each one to form precious bouquets that would only be possible with the existence of each one. Aren´t they telling me to accept my space in this world and to contribute to the masterpiece of humanity as a whole in my ability to bloom along with others, not more, but nevertheless, not less either?


I take a walk on the beach. Yes my ocean is there before me bringing the salty mist that reminds me of the taste of tears. Waves crashing constantly, some small, other big. Some calm, others fierce. They come. No force can ever stop them. Like life. Some small waves, some big. Some calm, some fierce. Why? No reason. Just the way of life. No one at the choosing booth.


As I sit with this realization, I look to my side and I have the cutest being looking at me with an investigative gaze. He lets me pet him, he doesn’t seem to be afraid of me even though he doesn’t know me. He has no judgment and no paradigm that speaks to him about me before his experience of me. We granted each other an experience of each other. I inevitably fell in love with him, to the point of wanting to own him. He followed me for a bit, and I feared hurting him when I had to abandon him. I stayed for another while until he decided it was time to continue on his way. I watched him walk away. He didn’t look back. We had had our moment. We had had our experience of each other. Love wants to possess, and he taught me to love and let go.  I do hope and wish he had a nourishing moment and significant as what he was for me. I will never know what I meant to him, but what I am sure of is that he seemed to be fine with letting go.


I return to get my early morning lime water and I find that we are out of limes in the kitchen. After a moment of freak, I walk to the lime tree to see if they are in their offering time.   Ahhhhhh the delight I find… Offering is their word. “Take me and serve yourself”, they tell me. Oh what a lesson.


What is my existence about if not one of offering.? I understand now how service is what I am in this world for. Sometimes sadness and grief are all about my pain. Pain and suffering dissolves with such ease once I focus on using myself for service. Pain doesn’t go away but I seem to be able to carry it with more ease.

The brightness of sun makes my dark place pretty bright and colorful. It turns everything around me into a display of shapes and color that inevitably makes me smile.


Pain will never cease. Of that I am sure. I have learned that monsters, ghosts and zombies are my illusion that keep me from confronting my fears about having another one of life´s waves be huge and bring me to the ground again. I understand today that I have no power to either predict the size of my next wave nor the power to stop it. In my walk through life I will stop more and look down to the blooms making space for one another. I will allow an open door for new friends, for as long as they remain, and I will continue to learn to say good-bye, until the next hello.