i no wan noni to cry…

so, I’ve begun the journey. self-love is at the helm. already things are falling away, as I knew they would. there’s something so powerful and courageous about standing still, allowing the tempestuous waves to rip everything superfluous away. it takes more effort to stand still and allow, then to, by rote, try to exert control over shit one cannot control at all. doesn’t seem like it would be harrowing, does it. but, it is. allowing is the behavior of warriors.

I honor that in myself and in others. others that are in the arena.

for this leg of the journey, I am tightening my inner circle. shedding this weight and becoming visible again is daunting. I’ve been hiding for a long time. when we’re ready to do the work, to show up, and surrender to the experience, biting one’s lip, looking carefully around, taking small steps, somewhat wavering but holding fast to the new unknown terrain, we are telling the universe that, yes, we know we’re worth it, that we are ready to be seen, heard and of service.

I’ve been hiding for a long time.

I’m ready to be seen again

I’m ready to be my best

To be of service

To shine, unabashedly

To stand in my authenticity

To pay the light forward

my eldest granddaughter stood by me and sang an impromptu song this evening, it went something like this…

“my noni, she loves me, she’s always there for me, I can talk to her all of the time, she listens to my feelings, even when I don’t want too share, she’s always there, I love my noni, she always makes me feel better, I missed my noni when she was in Puerto Rico, I’m happy she’s safe, I’m happy she’s here with me” she sang that to me, needless to say I started crying…

then the 3-year-old, teeny tiny warrior, Haven, my youngest granddaughter started crying cuz I was crying… she climbed into my lap starting to wail, ‘I don’t want my noni to cry” over and over again. I cried harder, she cried harder… it didn’t stop for a while. a five-year-old shared all her feelings with me, and a 3-year-old cried for my tears. what a gift I got tonight. how blessed and lucky am I? how can I not want to be the bravest goddess I can be, shining the light for my little badass grandpeeps.

so, with determination and courage, I stand there on the precipice of momentous change, and ready myself for the honing of my being. yea I only wanna fuck with others in the arena right now. I have to do this I am doing this and together we rise…


angels in the weirdest places

followed all the universal nudges today… all of them, didn’t question anything…just did it… had an amazing day…

had the house to myself, didn’t realize how much I needed it… scrolling through Netflix, and picked the Def Comedy Jam 25-year anniversary special…

Just Eddie Griffin being awesome.

then I remembered being a young mother in a domestic violence situation.  I remember looking at three babies depending on me, when I at the age of 25, hadn’t a clue how to be an amazing mother. knowing I adored my babies, but nary having a clue how to raise them?  I recall tuning into the groundbreaking, RAW show, and mouth slightly agape, laughing my ass off.  I mean holding my sides, trying not to pee on the sofa, laughing quietly because god/dess knows I didn’t want to wake my babies up.  single mothering whilst being stuck in the poor me’s wasn’t easy… how did I forget this crazy ass, raw, blunt show that pushed boundaries, and exposed some of the shit we often think but never say.  I didn’t realize that so many of the idioms I still use came from that show, until I watched the special tonight with my chin on the floor.

I got divine help from the weirdest places.  I too, was shocked by the show, but that was part of it’s magic… watching others be so free with the controversial shit that was on their minds.  I think that show was a part of the reason I made it through that incredibly tough time.   

yea, cuz sometimes at night, I’d sit down, with the weight of the world on my shoulders, crying, thinking I was failing my babies… then def comedy jam would rip off the layers of societal conforming right off… and I could just be a wounded young mother trying to make it with her babies… and I could laugh at their sometimes insulting but real comedic, envelope pushing diatribes, somehow laughing at myself and the entire fucked up situation as well.

so… yea I’m gonna continue to follow those nudges… (aka intuition) fully confident that something more powerful than me is most def in charge, cuz when I follow those nudges, no matter how ridiculous they seem to be, it all seems to work out.


angels hang out in the weirdest places… one of my favorites bernie mac doing the milk and cookies routine… 


joyful noise

i love to sing, i always have. do I do it well?? i don’t think so, but the soul expanding rush it gives me is undeniable.  my granddaughters (age 3 and 5) won’t zumba with me, they said, ‘noni, I can’t do that, i don’t know how’.  damnit, already?  i tell them it doesn’t matter, just dance, just feel ‘it’ but so far to no avail.  there are times when they forget to worry about doing it well and just succumb to the sheer pleasure of dancing… but…

Kurt Vonnegut Art Quote Kurt Vonnegut Art Quotes Do It. Quotesgram

why are we taught to only do things we excel at?  and truth be told, i think there is a huge percentage of people that will only pick up a paintbrush if their artwork resembles michealangelo’s sistine chapel … I have yet to meet anyone aspiring to be picassoesque.

thing is on top of that mountain in Aibonito, PR, i started coloring, yea i did, not because i thought i was badass or that it was some sort of art, but because it felt freaking amazing, and as i’d experiment with shading whist singing to my heart’s content (what? were the coqui’s gonna complain???? ) i’d get answers and nudges… yanno like what to do next? what to write next, how to handle situations, how to heal… etc.  all kinds of things would ‘flow’ into my consciousness. I never really questioned from whence the wisdom came, i was just grateful for it.

this morning, doing makeup, for the sheer love of the artistry, i again got nudges… huge directional blinking red arrows.  well then…

this is what I know ‘for me’… when i do what makes me happy, for the simple joy of it,  I vibrate on higher frequencies and I clear the crap out of the way then am able to connect, feel, hear….  with universe. 

sounds like a crock o’ shit, right?? yea… i know, but try it out… what do you have to lose? do something you totally love even if you think you suck and tell me how it felt… betchur inner child oozes with pleasure and watch the lines of divine communication open right up…

yea I never saw this quote till today and thought once again… there are no coincidences. 

powerful shit… we are ALL alchemists transmuting the pain of existence into the beauty of our personal perspectives… wow huh. 

embrace it to erase it

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Why are we taught to reject our sadness?  Is it not, too, a part of us? Isn’t my sadness a process, an emotion to be heeded and embraced?  If I resist that part of the journey, won’t it then persist?? I think I/ we must embrace it to erase it. 

Christmas has always filled me with contrary emotions.  I’ve not thoroughly enjoyed and been excited about Christmas since my children were still amazed by Santa’s constant generosity.  Christmas can be a hellova trigger for dysfunctional families and their offspring…

Except for one amazing Xmas. 


I got a crazy, magical miracle… I think it was 2011.  The stuff that ‘the Hallmark Channel’ dreams are made of.  I remember thinking, this is awesome, during the entire party.  There were kids everywhere, but it was amazing.  Everyone genuinely liked or loved each other and it was extremely palpable.   Prolific memories were made that night. We had no idea how priceless those memories would be, then. 

Fast forward to last year: first Xmas I ever spent alone.  Whoa!  You would think that a grown woman would have nary an issue with that, but au contraire… it was a learning experience…  

Present:  So very grateful have survived everything, but most recently tempestuous Maria, and am surrounded by loved ones, safe, choosing health, ready to take on the home stretch towards my degree… and yet I feel sad…

Wth?? Then I thought about it… I DO feel sad, and I’m okay with it. I accept, nay embrace my sadness.  I lost my cousin/bestie this year… that is reason enough to be grieving, and yet there was more… but what I do know is this.

By accepting my sadness, I let all layers of my existence know ‘I love me’ and I get that… how grateful am I?  I know that I’m a spiritual being here having a human experience ripe with powerful and messy emotions… yay!!!  I survived Maria!!! YAY!!!!!   I’m around two of my gorgeous grandpeeps for Xmas.  My daughter just got her dream job… I have amazing universal siblings…


Yes, it’s okay for me to feel sadness. It’s not selfish, it’s real, authentic, messy, and human. I can be uber-grateful and sad at the same time.  It’s not okay that we <as a collective> have been taught to care more about what others perceive our emotions to be than what they actually signify. :sighs: I’m fixing (excavating) the goddess in the mirror cuz that’s all I can do.  One step at a time, feeling what I feel, honoring every damn aspect of me.  Yea, I think that’s the main ingredient in clearing the path for divine to use us as conduits.  Letting it all rise, seeing it with almost a sense of interested detachment… realizing how little control we really do have. Trusting that it will all work out… 

Yea… I’m good… we’re good… we got this.

One tiny step at a time…

too many selfies

I take selfies.  Lotsa them.  I am fascinated with my face.  How I think ‘I’ look.  Some may say I’m narcissistic, but I disagree.  I believe I am a burgeoning goddess on a discovery mission… my excavation. I think I finally found myself back to wanting to know how ‘I see me’.  I was taught and fully believed that it was external approval and accolades that dictated my worth.  I had 1000% bought into the world telling me who I was, and how far from who I had to be, I was, that I didn’t know who the hell I was anymore.  Ever feel that way?

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Enter the selfie… I look at my expressions, at the tilt of my head…etc. They help me get to know me.  I think I’m okay looking… (hey I am never gonna bullshit), I know my body is under construction, but I give good face (smiles. Yea I made that up) but by NO stretch of the imagination am I looking at myself thinking oh you, gorgeous bitch.  Well let me not lie (smh…) every now and then, I DO say that.  (this complete honesty shit is killing me lol) 

Anyway, they help me, discover parts of myself I don’t think I really ever bothered to look at and formulate opinions about before.  Kinda fascinating if I do say so myself. 

Basically, I think I’m trying to say <shrugs… there are not exact sciences when one is going by 100% intuition) … fuck what people say or think.  Do YOU, because unless I had been nudged to share the ‘why’ behind my selfies, no-one would have known.  As I wrote this, I just ‘got’ on a higher level another reason we don’t judge… (all the times I have… Jesus)… we really don’t know why people do the shit they do.  Can’t really judge anything unless we have the entire blueprint… the entire, interlocking, intricate web… yea, and I’m not omnipotent, so I can’t judge nary a human being.

Okay, done now… gonna take a selfie… 










jus sayin…

Sick to my stomach at 3am, I briefly reviewed some of the more challenging highlights of the last almost month of life so far offa the island.  I vented, cried, and let the shit I couldn’t control go.  Kept myself in line with source, in the ‘vortex’.  By the way,  when I say sick to my stomach, I do mean literally… prolly purging all the bullshit out, cuz it ALL has to come out in order to heal… at least for me it did.   I had conformed in so many ways for so long, it almost killed me.  Legit, almost killed me.  But, I had choices, and even though it was excruciating to change EACH habit, one step at a time, constantly and consistently, I did it.  I really did  (my ego just bitchslapped me and told me to erase that… pffft… ) Because for me facing death… tiptoeing toward the veil, was the darkest I’ve ever been, and it was pretty dark… but I think when we accept and embrace our darkness, we ‘free’ up lights equal, or I find in most cases more.  The light that comes in as a result of surrendering (constantly) to darkness’s life contributions … it’s HUGE.  I mean my ass is getting addicted to the feeling of being in the flow. 


I wanted to die.  I mean really wanted to die.  For two fucking years, I woke up everyday with a feeling of dread in my stomach.  Plotting ways every day to summon the courage to DIE.  I don’t know how to explain to people who thought I was faking that I was drowning in quicksand, I could not breathe.  I had NEVER wanted to die before in my life. That shocked the shit out of me. 

It took 3 plane tickets and 2 suicide attempts to accept my dad’s invitation to heal on Puerto Rico.  I never knew darkness like that existed and now I respect the fuck out it.  I am humbled by what I learned.  I am forever shaken and stirred…  

I was on 11 medications when I went to Puerto Rico… Lithium, abilify, paxil, Neurontin, (more but to be honest I can’t remember, I’ve downloaded medication list from the pharmacies) detoxed, implemented all these batshit sounding tools, and found out that you can actually retrain the synapses in your brain… you can.  IT worked.. anyway fast forwarding it’s a LONG story and I share it constantly (again NOT my idea)  I’ve been offa this mountain for almost a month and holy fuckola it was an assault on my senses …. But .. this is the gift.. which of course I didn’t even fully get until I’m writing this shit.. the universe fucking rocks.. anyway… six classes from graduation, book, “meant to be here” almost completed, about to get really healthy.. then.. Maria hit.. spent 50 days there in the aftermath came to Mass for the first time since 6 months after my last hospitalization.. whew! whoa!  but one of the gifts.. are.. 

The tools really work.  Off the mountain, away from my respite/healing in Aibonito, Puerto Rico, they still work.  Cuz, holy shit the crap that’s been trying to fuck with my vibe… lmao, but I worked the tools and


Work.  My stint in hell is really over!! I manning my choices fo sho!  

Why am I posting these pics?  with the makeup mug?? Cuz when I woulda stayed in bed and nursed my sour stomach, I got up, but music and a coupla Abraham Hicks vids on did my make up (simply cuz it brings me joy… creative and all that shit) and PROCESSED. I chose to embrace the solution instead of marinating in the problem.  The universe said write, I wrote and I discovered the huge blessing in it all.

These “cheesy’ ass tools work… for me anyway, but I had to destroy the box first and embrace possibilities outside the realm of my own ‘reality’ ….

jus sayin… 



So, yes, I read your message.  It has been digesting since then.  I read it at around 3am in the morning, approx. a week after I stepped off the plane.  At first, I was just shocked that you would send that even though I was fresh from the front lines of my life.  I felt it was very inconsiderate… but… shrugs, okay.


Almost everyone in this world wants to change someone, and we all deserve to be able to be ourselves, and you apparently thought I was trying to change you, and this letter made me feel you were trying to do the same, so I freed us both.  No, I have not had your life experiences, nor have you had mine.  I’m not into competitions, no pissing contests here.  I am an expert on just one thing.  Me. I share my journey cuz I’m nudged to do so. If it helps anyone… I’m blessed and if it does not, then they are free to sashay to the exit sign. 

I treat others the way I want to be treated.  If I did anything to offend you, I really would have loved to know… but, I cannot have more sympathy for you.  I won’t climb down into the abyss with you.  I’ll stay where I’ve had to claw my way too, and hold out my hand.  I’m not going to see you as a victim, I see you now, then and forever as a conqueror.  We all are.  We all have the fortitude and tenacity to choose better, but that’s scary, and I realize that.  I realize that people have to be ready to confront their demons, and we cannot bully people to be that which we feel they should be.  I get that. 

So, I didn’t walk away because you asked me to be more compassionate towards your life/journey, but because when you that that you weren’t being compassionate to what I had just gone through… and that I just didn’t understand.  To me that’s like asking a person not to steal when you yourself in that moment are stealing… wtf???Image result for choose fear or love

I just wrote that letter.  Yea, that really happened and yea, that’s the way I was feeling about it.  But, as I was writing it, I realized if the person didn’t get ‘it’, then they still wouldn’t get it… so taking the next step and sending it would serve darkness and not light.  I realized that it would be my ego’s chess to further this.  It didn’t feel right.  It didn’t make my soul shine, and that, for me now is enough to not do it. 

I’ve always had crazy ass thoughts, and mostly never acted on any of them, but for the last 15 months approx. I’ve been practicing mindfulness.  Writing that letter, freeing those toxins, was healthy, I feel it absolutely was, but to send it would be sending energy to the past.  I’d rather send my energy to the reality I’m choosing to create.   

That is absolutely a gift of mindfulness.  I would never have taken the time to think through all of that instead of acting immediately.  Random bursts of emotionally provoked crazy choices have dotted my life for at least 3 consecutive decades… it is soul stirring to know that these tools actually do work, and only have to be learned and implemented.  Perhaps, I ought not to say ‘only’ because truth be told, determination must be utilized, but it is oh so worth it. 

As for me, I’d rather ‘love and lift’, in the book, “The Universe has your Back”, Bernstein writes that we ought to stop, relax, and ask, ‘fear or love’, is the choice we’re about to make born of fear or born of love.  I couldn’t see that sending that letter had pure and loving intentions, smelled like a lil bit o’ fear to me, so yea… not sending it. 


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