i am

"Who could be so lucky? Who comes to a lake for water and sees the reflection of the moon." Rumi


Transcendental Foundation

How you manage to caress

Even the delicate palate

Of my existence

Is unclear to me.

Your words finger my thoughts

As you submerge yourself

Into my atmosphere

But remain next to me

As my equal.

The yesteryears

That I look forward to

Unfold quietly in my presence.

With its luminance

The blue of the moon

Ricochets off the silhouette

Of our souls.

We’ve painted memories

From chapters we wrote at random-

Anecdotes individually formed

To depict sweet songs

Sung by flowers

That witnessed the enchantment

Of our wind.

We lead new beginnings

And trail the nonexistent.

With no guidelines

Or laws


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Matsyasana Day 1

I don’t practice yoga like I wish I did, or perhaps like I should. I know all the benefits of yoga (the different types), and I encourage it to any and every one. The problem? I get bored. I really want to like it because I know how beneficial it would be for my breathing and sciatica. But I really get bored out of my mind! My sister suggested I practice Vinyasa Yoga since it flows from position to position instead of keeping a pose for longer periods of time. I have fallen asleep during yoga before, so this type that is a bit more vigorous may be just what I need!

However, I love doing poses often, even if I don’t practice yoga. My sister shows me different ones all the time, and I give them a try, without stretching, without previous attempts… I just try them.

Last night we played tennis, and afterward, she began stretching. Then asked me if I had ever seen the Fish Pose. She showed it to me and I tried it out. Below is the picture.

This morning, I looked up the pose on Google. I didn’t know there were variations of the same pose. So guess what?  I will try every variation I see online and take pictures and show you. I’ve just gotta get creative with the places I choose to do them in. This is gonna be fun! 🙂

Matsyasana: The name comes from the Sanskrit words matsya (मत्स्य) meaning “fish” and asana (आसन) meaning “posture” or “seat”. (Source:Wikipedia)


Disappointed at Mr. P

Mr. P is a man in his 60s I grew fond of. Back in the summer of 2008, I pinched my sciatic nerve. I was unaware of that fact for two or three months. I work sitting down in front of a computer for eight hours, which makes my situation worse. One morning, the pain became so excruciating. I bawled like a baby and had to ask my bosses for help. They immediately called Mr. P.

Mr. P is their friend and client. He rushed over, and as a sciatica sufferer himself, Mr. P taught me some stretches that ease sciatic pain.  He told me his story. He said with daily stretches and caution, he’s been able to diminish these sciatic ‘episodes’. He walks every where, is always in a good mood and likes to talk a lot. That was the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

After that incident, every time Mr. P came to visit us at the office, he’d sit on the couch and chat with me. There were times we’d hold conversations about spirituality, nutrition and life in general. For most of 2011 I hadn’t heard from him. This year, I finally saw him again during tax season. Oh how I missed him and his energy! He always bares a smile.

At the office, my bosses always debate about politics and the economy – that or having endless conversations about golf. Recently, the three were having some debate about the presidential candidates. Mr. P’s name came up. They said Mr. P was going to vote for anyone as long as it wasn’t Obama, even if the alternate candidate had nothing better to offer and may in fact be a worse option. I was a bit surprised to hear that Mr. P would rationalize in that way, but shrugged it off.

This morning, one of my bosses and I were reading the news together about a man who shot  an ex co-worker in front of the Empire State Building early this morning. According to the reports, the man who was later shot dead by Police was a disgruntled employee. My boss then said, “Ha, I bet Mr. P would say it’s Obama’s fault because of our economy.” And I asked him why he would say something like that. And he replied, “ Didn’t you know? Mr. P is the biggest racist and has no shame about it. He’s a tough one! And he hates Obama. He even calls Michelle Obama ‘______’” (some derogatory name having to do with chimps.)

Say what??

I felt a sharp pain in my chest. This weird feeling just came over me. Mr. P? My Mr. P? A racist? I’m completely disappointed and hurt. I don’t know how else to feel. I’m not angry, and I don’t resent him. But really, Mr. P?

See, I never saw him display that side of him. This comes as a shock to me. Would my boss be exaggerating? How do I know if what he’s saying is true? But why would my boss lie about something like that? I hold all three of my bosses with high regard. These five years that I’ve worked for them, they’ve become like uncles to me.

So what now? Is it understandable if my feelings toward Mr. P change? I mean, he’s been the kindest, most loving person to me and I truly hold him dear to my heart. I don’t love him any less, let me make that clear. Love doesn’t wither. But as far as respect or admiration goes, I don’t know… I can’t respect a person who has hate in his heart, one who judges based on color and culture. I know what’s right in my heart, I stand for truth; but I can’t help but feel confused.



Her and I – Ms. February & Ms. July

My sister and I have not so many things in common.

But the ones we do, however,

Play an important role in both our lives.

Well, only some…

For instance,

We are both artists.

She’s a visual artist:




Sculpting (somewhat)



*there are more subcategories but don’t remember them*

I am a performing artist –

Trained Dancer:

Ballet / Pointe




Spoken Word Artist:


Writer and Performer


Keyboard (some)


Theater (some)

But on our most intimate of times,

Whether at home

Or out and about,

We always find time

To enjoy one of our

Favorite pass-times:

Drinking tea.


In my space

This path here, yea it gets lonely.

But I sit almost patiently as

The Atlantic wind slowly makes its way,

Brushing away any melancholy.

An ant tribe diligently moves across

To the other side of the trail.

Creepy crawlers navigate through terrain,

Hiding under leaves as foreign disturbance approaches.

They’re just foots steps –

Steps of those who come and go.

Mud begins to form as

The Heavens cleanse the Earth.

And I’m still here,

Pensive but serene –

Very pensive…


No more Ramadan

Oh, it was a great journey observing Ramadan for the first time. This has been one of the most self-reflective, peaceful and appreciative experiences in my life. But I’d be lying if I said it was only that and a bag of chips.

Although the fasting came relatively easy, the last few days took a toll on my sleep, appetite and self-control. I’ve had a love/hate relationship in the past with discipline. But this experience has taught me something different about discipline – something to bring me back to Earth.

Approximately three to four years ago, I contemplated on fasting for a few days or a week or two. I felt I was spiritually motivated enough, but mentally and physically I wasn’t.  I was too concerned about how  I would go about my day, how much weight I would loose, and what pleasure i’d have to give up. Thinking back, if these factors affected my decision, then I definitely was not even spiritually ready.

Ramadan came at the right time in my life. I thought I’d only do about three to five days, but I soon realized that I would be denying myself from an experience that would not only facilitate and provide growth in every aspect of my life, but one that allowed me to open up to a culture/religion that I really knew nothing about. And it placed truly meaningful souls in my path that I will now cherish forever.

On the last day of Ramadan, I experienced bitter/sweet emotions. I can honestly say that this has been one of very few things I have accomplished in my twenty some odd years. There’s this feeling of elation, cleansing and gratefulness that overcame me on that last day. I must admit that I cried as I prayed my last prayer that night. My soul was renewed. I fulfilled a commitment that would change my life for the better. I’ve learned many things on this holy month of Ramadan, and I regret not one second of it!

This has been my first of many to come. I am so thankful for those souls who sent me positive energy and supported my journey, both near and far. It’s meant the world to me.