The Power of Words (it is your power!)

I have to confess that I have always had the power to achieve whatever I have or could have wanted. And so have you! In my case, all the ups and downs in my life have been created by me, and no one else. Of course, I have blamed heredity, family customs, my culture, the government, exile, revolution, evil spirits, the slave trade, the Catholic church, the police state, the secret government, etc. No, with every word that comes from my mouth, I have created my life and continue to create it at every moment.

Let me show you.

When my youngest daughter was born, with a dismal prognosis as a Trisomy 18 child (otherwise known as Edward’s Syndrome) even the good doctors around us said that if she lived, she was going to be a vegetable! (Cancel that!) My wife and I said that “One day we will come walking down this hallway to see you with A… by the hand!” Some years later we fulfilled that declaration by coming back to visit the hospital where Ana had spent years going in and out. They were in tears! We showed them! What was at work that time was true faith in the outcome we wanted: For A…, our baby, to grow up healthy, to live, to enjoy a great life. It came to pass after we believed it and decreed it.

Princess Ana — Our little A… who today is 12 years old and attending Middle School. Our wonderful simplicity!

Just the other day I was called from A…’s school because she threw up and had a temperature. When the aides brought her out from the nurse’s office she looked at me and asked me, “I’m sick?” and I said, “No, you are not; you are great!” “Oh!” she replied. Still, she had to stay out one day, as the rules go. On the third day, as we are getting her dressed, she said: “Hi, teacher! I’m not sick, I’m here!” My heart skipped a beat! (Cancel that!) She was practicing what she was going to declare to her teacher. Young kids know best how to use words to get what they want. Isn’t that what Jesus meant when he said “Amen I say to you, unless you be converted, and become as little children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. “

I want to be like my daughter; I want to be truly converted and know, beyond the shadow of a doubt that everyone of my words have power to create, and from this moment on, for the rest of my life, speak of what I want to create, not of what I want to avoid. So far, I have been the Master of Creation of a Topsy-turvy life, but I pledge to dedicate my life to create beauty, abundance, health, joy and happiness, peace, and many wonderful simplicities, using the power of my words.

Like St. Paul says in Philippians 4:8: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.“

I will think of them, and I will speak of them. You can too! And I dare say our lives will be better, a lot better!

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Do step on the grass (A simple meditation).

Remember the old signs, “Don’t step on the grass”? Well, today is a different day, a day when city dwelling humans have gotten away from being in touch with nature. So, I’ve come upon an easy and time efficient way of meditating (which I am sure I did not invent), while getting close to Mother Earth.

Find a grassy area, anywhere. Take off your shoes, and barefooted, step on the grass. Keep your feet apart shoulder length and relax your arms at your side. Close your eyes, relax, breathe conscientiously several times and notice the way your feet feel in the grass.

Notice that you are there. That’s where you are. You are you, and you are in touch with your surroundings. Just be. That’s it. Now open your eyes and take another deep breath and from the bottom of your heart say: Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Now, if you have a lawn in your property, you may place a sign that says: “You may step on the grass.”

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Don’t try to save the world; save yourself.

The title above came to me in deep meditation, and for the last few days I’ve been trying to make sense of it, and trying to see if it was in tune with the purpose of this blog, which is to present the wonderful and simple things in life. I finally think I’ve got it. But let me tell you how all this came about. My wife and companion has been away for 2 weeks in a powerful workshop of energy healing, empowerment, and all-around wellness. And even being a good husband-helper, I have had to pick up most of her duties and responsibilities besides the ones that are my own. I have cleaned, kept the home tidy, done laundry a couple of times, even cooked twice (I confirmed the boys eat anything, whether you cooked it with love or it came frozen in a bag). I have tended to my daughter: made her special breakfast which has to be given by way of a feeding tube, prepared her lunch, checked for homework, gotten her in the tub with enough time to put her in bed so she could get a good night’s sleep. I have worked in my regular job, with an eye on my cellphone to see if my 15 and 16 years-old need me while they baby sit for me, sneaking a call or a text occasionally: “Is everything Okay?”

I have also done things for myself. Taking my wife’s lead, I dared go and have breakfast outside the house twice; it felt great, after I fought a sense of guilt. I also worked on the Spanish translation of my book, Drought, Rain. The Young Heroes Series, which I want to put out next month. And I meditated.

I felt deeply the absence of my wife, a woman that is everything to me. Yet, at the same time, I had a sense of emotional liberation, a sense of freedom that has been hard to deal with. Here is the realization I have had. For almost 30 years, this wonderful woman and I have been trying to SAVE THE WORLD, and have done very little for ourselves. I have taken this realization beyond our family and thought: Aren’t a lot of people doing this, on a different scale, concerned with war, disease, politics, conflicts, natural disasters, food collection, water depletion, global warming, but are doing very little for their personal selves?

My personal opinion is that if we begin to show more love to ourselves, and lead lives of more self-care, self-appreciation, and self-improvement, the world at large will be a much better place. I think I am not the only one with this message. I have experienced it seeing my wife grow in her workshop, in me seeing that 30 years of effort saving my world (health and education for the kids, keeping my finances afloat, doing as best as I can for my jobs, keeping the household going, etc.), may amount to nothing, in a flash, if I did not take care of ME! There is a saying in Spanish: “Salvese quien pueda!” Save yourself, if you can! Which is used in dire situations of great danger. Well, the great danger is that you may end this life and never find out what the heck was this all about (that is the “saving yourself” part).

I don’t know about you, but I have started looking inward, finding peace, enjoyment, pleasure, safety, and satisfaction for myself and with what I can do, right here and right now. And looking inward allows me to stand back and take a good look at the stage I am moving in. Yes, it may involve doing those dishes, or feeding that special child, or typing that blog; but I know I am doing it for me, in a journey of discovery and of growth. I will save myself, and maybe, just maybe, that will save the world.

Do I make any sense?

See more of me at:

http://www.reikirebirth.webstarts.com

http://www.amazon.com/author/jgherrera

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There are no clouds above the clouds.

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A recent, wonderful and quick trip to a major city to visit family, made me aware of many things as I looked and pondered over apparently obvious things. Although my heart was inflamed with the joy of seeing my oldest daughter and my grandson again after several years, the thorns of the inconveniences troubled me. There was the 2 a. m. alarm wake up to be able to drive for 2 hours from my residence to the airport. There was the inability to move my bowels at that early hour (you try it to see if you can). There was the actual driving in the dark and what I finally accepted were my outdated prescription glasses, which turn lamppost lights and headlights into carnival sparklers. There was the cramped airplane seat next to a big man who kept falling asleep over me, and with whom I was too compassionate to push over to the opposite side. In the city, there were the slow moving buses, the packed-like-sardines subway rides, the robotic crowds walking with me shoulder to shoulder on the sidewalks in the middle of city noise and ambulances and police patrol’s sirens all over the place. There were the long walks of long blocks (20 to a mile), and of hundreds, if not thousands of stair-steps into and out of the bowels of the city (while my own bowels were still full and my butt yearning for my own toilet at home). There were my unfulfilled attempts (because of distance and lack of time) to buy some food that would bring back comfort and memories I had once enjoyed, like bagels from a certain famous shop, and cold noodles from one of my old hangout restaurants.

But it was when I stopped complaining in my mind and really took stock of what I was doing, what this experience was all about, that things began to look brighter. I had returned, after many years, to the city that gave me refuge in my teen years as a parent-less young political refugee and immigrant. This is where I had begun to work, to relate to other people outside of my own circle of family members and a few friends; where I had earned my first income, eaten other food that was not of my own ethnic group, started speaking another language, met girls I could have a “more mature” relationship with (!!!). This was the city where I went to college and where I taught school for the first time, the city where my first and oldest daughter was born, where I found my first pet, my tabby named Puti. This was the city where I met my lovely and wonderful (if you don’t mind me using the word again) present wife and companion for life and where our first son was conceived. This was a great city, full of allure and distraction, full of great human beings who strive to live and work and study and commute and go home safely after a long day, and who read the headlines and listen to their music and drink their coffee and buy from their street vendors and read their magazines on lawns surrounded by spires reaching the skies, and who find solace, like I did, in old, quiet and musty churches in Midtown.

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On my flight home, sitting by myself on a half empty airplane, I looked out of the window and kept taking pictures. And then the realization and the decision came in a flash. There was nothing to complaint about, there was nothing wrong with anything, just appearances that were so, just because that is the way things are, and they are all perfect. We always have the choice and the final say as to what life and our experiences are all about.

If you look again at my opening photograph, you may have the same realization I had: THERE ARE NO CLOUDS ABOVE THE CLOUDS!

That skyscape brought it home for me: beyond every problem and every situation that may be giving you stress or a headache, or maybe even a heartache, there is nothing bad, but a canvas where you can paint the best of the best. There are no clouds above the clouds of your life, of your history, of your family and of your apparent misfortunes.

I had kissed and embraced my daughter, my grandson and my son-in-law. I chatted with them and heard about their life. I saw they were good parents, doing an awesome job with what they had and with what they knew. All of that was good. This was their time. This was their labor of love and of life.

By the way, I got my bagels.

There are no clouds above the clouds.

A simple way to pray.

A friend just reminded me to pray for Puerto Rico regarding hurricane Maria, and for Mexico with a major earthquake. Lately I have not knelt or stopped in a quiet area of the house to get into a praying mood, but there is a simpler, faster and very effective way to do this.

Set your intention and the reason for your prayer, in your mind and in your heart, then say or think, that you are sorry for all the ill and negative thoughts you have had about everything and about everyone. Say or think that you are sorry for your temper, your gossip, your criticism, your lack of appreciation, respect and compassion for everything and for everyone. Finally, commit to live a life devoid of criticism and accusation, especially for yourself.

Maybe, the hurricanes, earthquakes, droughts, famine and wars, and other world disasters, are a message that we need to change and live by love alone. Not easy but we can try.

Nature does talk.

I grew up on a Caribbean island where nature was an essential part of my childhood. Most days you could find me climbing on laurel of India trees, playing pirates way up on the branches, or just reading a Tarzan comic book. Or if anyone leaned on a nearby, sea-rusted seawall, they could see me diving with my friends into the azure waters that surround my island. I played with hibiscus flowers from very tall hibiscus bushes hanging over the separating wall between our neighbor’s house and our tiny apartment, cutting them down with my samurai sword (a nice curved stick) because in my imagination they were the enemy I needed to destroy (I have since apologized to the hibiscus many times for my cruelty). I stole Filipino mangoes from that same neighbor, deliciously heaping around the tree she had in her yard. I still hear her cursing at us boys, “Salgan de aqui, gamberros!” Get out of here, hoodlums! I think she was a Spaniard because of the use of gamberros. But we were not, just kids after a delicious snack that was going to rot on the ground anyways. I hunted lizards with my slingshot, and birds out of the air with a Bebe gun (another apology). Please, don’t think I was cruel human, but just a kid growing up in an under developed country when electronic entertainment did not exist.

Anyway, throughout my adult years I have redeemed my old ways.

I listen to the wind tell me things. I stand still as the sun rises and thank God/the Universe. I allow the tranquility of the lake behind our home to remind me to Be Still and Know that… I pick up small caterpillars around our house and put them out on the grass. I watch and follow and talk to hawks, owls, deer, curly tailed lizards, turtles, and fish. I buried Pip, our Gerbil, right under our lemon tree, with pomp and ceremony and said a prayer I composed. I take pictures of the sky in many of its dramatic poses. I listen because nature talks.

There are many today that are doing good things for Nature, to save our Earth. Yet, many need to get it right: not for this Earth that belongs to us, but we that belong to her. Many gurus are saying that Our Mother Earth is talking to us, asking us to change our ways. I changed mine, and although I don’t consider myself a fanatic, or a conservationist in the full sense of the word, I think I have a close and solid relationship with Nature, with Earth. All one has to do is to begin to observe, to quiet down and to listen.

My 17 year old J… has been able to caress the back of a big carp that roams our lake, and he tells me that frogs stare at him for a long time. I believe he has a special relationship with nature.

“Do you know what frog means in animal medicine?” he asks.

“Not off the top of my head, but we could find out,” I answer.

And we read together: “Frog teaches us to honor our tears […] find a way to rid yourself of distractions and to replace the mud with clear energy […] An ability of Frog medicine people is to give support and energy where it is needed.” (Medicine Cards, Jamie Sams and David Carson, St. Martin’s Press, 1999)

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There’s a look of acknowledgement in my son’s eyes. “Yes, I get it. That’s me. That’s what’s going on right now. The frogs have been talking to me.”

You don’t have to be a shaman to hear nature talk. When you get that wonderful feeling watching a slow, multicolored sunset and hear the evening surf lapping the shore, you are having your own private conversation with nature.

Sometimes, getting your way is easy.

We had spent a few days indoors, in the dark at night, in the heat most of the day, while hurricane Irma passed over us. When it all cleared and the our street was almost dry, I offered our young daughter A… to take her to the playground, which she calls the “park”. A… is a wonderful, witty girl with special needs and a worker of miracles. The biggest one being that she was not supposed to be alive and to have turned eleven. Well, this miracle worker’s face lighted up when she heard my offer, then, moving her large dark eyes side to side, and an index finger to her temple she said a phrase I had never heard from her: I got an idea. Yes, my little one was learning to speak a lot, and in full sentences. My eyes watered.

“So, what’s your idea?” I asked.

Ana on a fallen tree — My daughter at the playground on the trunk of a fallen tree after hurricane Irma

“Umm… pollo, soda, fries!” she responded with an added devilish smirk.

Her favorite treat when we are out is for us to buy her a kid’s meal of chicken nuggets (pollo), french fries and a small soda. She has gotten so good at this that she now recognizes the facades of all the major fast food outlets, as we drive by. I said no, no way, just to the park so you can do the swings. She accepted and off we went. After climbing on the tree trunk of an uprooted giant (I held her, moved back and snapped a picture with my phone) and swinging as high as a human can for about half an hour, I uttered my familiar warning: “Five minutes!”

“No, more!” she replied.

“We have to go, A…” I said.

“More!” and her feet almost touched the sky.

“Well, come on, I will get a lollypop for you, Okay?”

“Okay!” and she started to drag her shoes on the wood chips to stop her swinging.

Off we went, driving around town, stopping at different stores. Everything was either closed, without electricity and accepting cash only, and I had my debit card and no cash. I refused to go into a supermarket and buy a bag of pops when I only offered one as a lure to get her off the swings. At one turn A… sees the familiar yellow arches and screams MC…! “Okay, pollo, soda, fries.”

At this point, seeing that I was not going anywhere in my search for a lousy lollypop, I give up and drive into this famous establishment and get my smart daughter her nuggets kid’s meal.

I drive back to the house and realize, hearing A… chew in the back seat, that the Law of Attraction is real, that the power of thought and words is real, that everything I have been reading about and preaching, does work. My daughter put it out into the Universe, expressed in a way that touched my heart, and she honed in on it as we drove.

Yeap, I definitely think it’s easy to get your way, if you don’t get in the way.

Are you tired of the same negative crap?

A few years ago I had a Blog I called The Goodness Chalkboard, and the concept was to write about good things, as if the Blog were a chalkboard. It was appropriate since I was a teacher at the time. I had always seen my teaching platform as one where I could contribute to my students much more than the subject matter, Spanish in my case. I wanted to let them know that they were great, that their lives were meaningful and that life was wonderful. Throughout the last years of teaching, before I retired, I saw a lot of competing negativity seeping into the classroom. Beginning with a greater administrative load for teachers, and a greater negative media content that invaded the classroom with the use of the internet and the PEDs, personal electronic devices. Both for personal reasons and because I had very few readers, I abandoned the Chalkboard almost at the same time I retired from teaching after almost 40 years.

With this new Blog, Wonderful Simplicities, I want to rekindle my efforts in bringing to readers the message that life is indeed beautiful and that every moment counts as a wonderful experience. And I have to add, I will do it whether I have readers or not.

Today I drove out of our home in the Southwest of Florida with my wife at 3:00 a. m. toward an airport two hours away. It was pitch dark, but life seemed bright after our experience with hurricane Irma. My wife and I were tired. She was exhausted from working around the house and caring for our young daughter of special needs, and I was tired from working for 12 hours on my feet. My wife looked beautiful in black leggings, a white top and one of those short sleeve sweaters that are popular nowadays. As I drove I occasionally caressed her arm. It was smooth and I acknowledged to myself that I love this woman, my partner. We talked almost the entire time, about our goals, our desires, our dissatisfaction with what we had accomplished so far, our commitments to do better. We talked about spirituality and about paying bills and about some progress a few of our children have made. We drove East, so a faint line of light grew on the horizon. We had electricity now after almost a week of moving around the house with a little flashlight. We had hot water to bathe. The garbage had finally been picked up and the lake behind us was tranquil again. Life was definitely beautiful and wonderful. My wife was going to visit our oldest son and our granddaughter in a Northern state and the airfare had been very inexpensive.

A while later, waiting for boarding at her gate, we heard another traveling mother ask her daughter on the telephone if she had gotten to her job alright, if she was near the security guards at her place of work–I gathered by the conversation that it was a hospital. The woman’s eyes showed so much love for her daughter that I was very moved. I have seen that same love in my wife’s eyes, even if they were tinted by the pain of knowing that one of our children was smoking pot.

Overall, life is a wonderful tapestry of unique moments to be relished, all of them. If you can accept that, then, you must be tired of all the negative crap that surrounds us.

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