the past is prologue

It dawned on me, that others may not understand why everything is such a miracle for/to me.  So here is the most succinct synopsis I can write.


11-18 runaway (on and off, mostly on) group homes, foster homes, the streets of the NYC, runaway shelters, drugs, a foiled overdose, post-partum depression psychosis… etc.

what's past is prologue18-25ish married, three kids, domestic violence and lotsa dysfunction

26-40ish was the “fake it till I make it” years, explored concepts but had no idea what total authenticity would look like or what it would ‘cost’.  

40-46 began implanting a few tools, explored alternative modalities, began to choose love over fear but still had the poor me’s., still thought on some level of my subconscious that someone was gonna save me <eyeroll> jeez huh???  still thought I could bully myself into a higher expression, or berate myself there, was a judgy judy to others, still whined and moaned… still tried to embrace the light … more conceptual than actual… got my associates. 

46 to now (jumping Jehoshaphat) my aunt and best friend died in 2012, which propelled me into panic, gotta save the world before I die mode, legit dictatored myself to lose 130lbs, started breaking chains, forced myself to root through layers of residual pain, and began excavating. embarked on a quest to be of service … got scared, and made a few decisions based on guilt and shame, ended up diving head first into the abyss.  2 years of suicidal depression, a legit dark night of the soul, survived a few attempts <still makes no human reasoning kind of sense at all> in March of 2016 left the last hospital, took six months to just figure out my next step <couldn’t really feel my own intuition/light> since I had fed the darkness for two entire and I mean ENTIRE years.  Decided to go to PR, to recreate, it was something different, something NOT on the hamster wheel I had been on.  8/31/16 arrived in PR (this is what I looked like, on 11 different heavy hitting psychotropic medications) crazy huh?? blows my mind.  I spent 15 months literally rerouting the synapsis in my brain. I CHOSE at the crossroads for EVERY thought and decided love over fear so many times, it became a habit. I weaned myself off meds including but not limited to paxil, Neurontin, lithium, abilify, Remeron,  serequel (etc.) I was alone for the first time in my life, legit faced my demons, couldn’t even sleep with the lights off while I weaned off the meds.  Implemented affirmations, mediation, and SURRENDER. Faced EVERYTHING, embarked on my quest for my bachelor’s in psychology with a concentration in children and adolescents. Wrote a book called, “Meant to be Here”, about the two years in the abyss, had the best birthday I have every had in my life on August 19th (turned 50) then on September 19, my dad’s birthday, Hurricane Maria bitchslapped my island respite, and was without power and water for about 40ish something days (16 of which I was legit ALONE in the dark, lol if there was any proof I had integrated and made friends with my monsters, that was it)… wrote another book <nothing else to do to stay sane> called, Surviving Maria… had to leave PR, on 11/8/17 and came to Mass till graduation.  Commencement is in 18 days, and the date of my last class is 8/26. 


I AM a wonder woman for getting back up time and time again.  I no longer have ANY signs of depression or panic attacks.  I do sometimes have regular human anxiety like before I began my STATS class .. <jesus> anyway…

EVERYTHING is a miracle to me, I cannot believe I made it out of the abyss.  I really believed that was it for me.  I didn’t know one could return from a darkness such as that. 

There you have it, in a nutshell, the shortest I could make it, and now you may understand, why gratitude is my dominant, constant companion. 


the flow is still the flow

It’s finals week and I’m dragging my ass to the finish line. One would think that everything would just flow, as I/we take steps shortening the distance between my/our divine and human self, but it doesn’t always ‘feel’ like it’s flowing it feels like I’m pulling teeth with no anesthesia. I am legit busting my ass processing everything (last four classes before graduation, keto lifestyle, losing layers of weight/cushioning between me and the world, my dad’s still in PR and I strive NOT to worry about him, my son is recuperating from a pretty invasive surgery. I could go on, but the point has been made) we’ve all got ‘shit’ to deal with, cuz this is a human existence and even if we chose the road less traveled, life continues to unfold with all of it’s sometimes gnarly twists and turns. 

Image result for the flow


I’m SO fucking grateful for everything.  I mean flushing toilets have still not lost their magic for me after Puerto Rico… hot showers are still amazing, the fact that I haven’t put a carb to my lips in 40 something days, that I’m not attaching to anything that rises, but just observing and honoring shit, then letting it go… that I’m up to 160 steps after each of my miles and once an hour is stunning to me.  The fact that my RHR has SO improved in a month… I mean ONE MONTH, and it’s dropped what???  10 or more points????  

How do I define success these days???

Image result for let things flow lao tzu

I celebrate everyone who wakes up, feeling a bit tired, maybe not so motivated and does the good shit anyway.  Whether it be working out, sharing, helping, loving, being of service to self and others IN SOME way… that moves me.  When we feel like snapping cuz the journey is JUST. TOO. MUCH, but we chose to do the work, so we can reassess and readjust to follow love as our north star … even though… that’s success to me these days. 

Where is this road gonna take me, I have no freaking clue, and that I think is the point of this existence, to watch it unfold as we surrender to the ebbs and flow of the universal wave. 


So maybe the flow doesn’t always feel like the flow, but our higher selves know, the flow is the flow as long as we keep taking steps no matter how small.     



are you… too sensitive too?

sensitive 2

I have always believed I was defective, broken, not enough of so much and way too much of the rest.  what is wrong with you?  too sensitive?  get over it.  smile at people, hug them.  they didn’t mean it.  do you think I’m going to change how I talk to you because you’re so ‘sensitive’?  I’ve heard it all.  Let me be honest.  It was never my choice to be ‘sensitive’ and I’m pretty sure I hated being sensitive much more than others were annoyed by my tears and angst.  I was just always more comfortable lost in a book wandering around middle earth with the hobbits, or hanging with Nancy and Ned Nickerson. Where other kids may have wanted to go out constantly, it was torture for me.  NYC was a hub of strong scents, feelings and interactions.  Felt very abrasive to the thin skinned little girl that I was. 

To life as a runaway on the streets of NYC 

Then as a battered wife with three small babies <all in pampers at the same time> in a strange state, isolated…

sensitive one




(have to laugh) what a journey.  I watched the documentary “Sensitive – the untold story” today,  nodding my head, examining how I’ve treated others, who might have been sensitive as well.  We’re taught by the collective that being sensitive is a weakness, something that has to be trained, beat or berated out of us.  Research shows that sensitives when properly cared for (be it self-care or parental etc.) exceed crazy expectations of achievement and creativity. 

senstive 3

Well then… I firmly believe the only way to eradicate ignorance, be it abuse, mental health issues, what’s going on in our schools, violence … everything that is amiss in our world is to first FREELY WITHOUT SHAME OR BLAME dialogue about it.  To have the deep, sometimes uncomfortably raw conversations. 

I cannot force anyone to feel the same way.  I cannot do anything except self-care like a G and shine my light as brightly as possible.  I’m a lighthouse, a beacon and those who feel my frequency will come. 

Are you ‘too’ sensitive?

Can you relate??

Wanna talk?

We #rise together!!!!




what else is possible??

I am so fucking grateful.



I’m not sure how to process these events… well I actually do but the realizations are so heady it takes time to digest.

Went to the gym today and did 30 minutes on the ARC.  The last 20 minutes were so painful, that by the last five minutes, I was having a hard time holding back the tears.  I’ve NEVER cried at the gym before.  If you’re keeping up, you know I lost 130lbs before the 2 years I spent in the abyss, but regained it during the 2 years of suicidal depression, then developed sciatica and now…

Well now…

How bad do I want it???

How bad do I want my health??

Well bad enough to work through level 13 pain <on a scale of 1-10>.  I’ve had 3 C-sections, 1 hysterectomy, a SVT ablation… and severe fibro for years and YET…nothing has compared to this.  Wow… this pain is a worthy opponent… but truly it isn’t… it’s a part of me.  It wants to be seen, heard and honored.  I did this. No blame or shame about it, but I made some choices that led me to this level of pain.  Since I reclaimed my power by owning my choices, I now have the power to make new choices to change it.  Word!

So there I was on that machine… whew… I thought of the veteran who utilized yoga for his healing.. what a badass huh??  <——————————– the veteran’s courageous journey.

Then I thought of Nick Vujicic who speaks to teenagers, which is what my passion calls me to do <—————————-

These men’s journey’s inspired me right there on that ARC, holding on so my leg didn’t give… then I thought of my granddaughter Genesis, that legit believes I am a wonder woman… well ummm yea.. .gotta live up to that. 

I self-talked for the last 15 minutes of the 30 minutes. Went something like this…

Ummm yea, you got this…

It’s your MIND, not your BODY tempted to quit…

The pain is the weakness leaving your body…

How bad do you want it?

How bad do you want your dreams??

What are you willing to do??

I made it… I did it… tears were rolling down my face, everyone around me faded into the background and DID NOT MATTER… they didn’t.  I made it… I didn’t break my promise to MYSELF, because that is the most important relationship I have. 

I slowly and gingerly made my way over to the yoga mat and cried for about 5 full minutes as I stretched and loved all of me even the fat, and pain… yea all of me. 

Went home after running a few errands and did one more mile.

Yea I’m a fucking wonder woman.  Yea I’m creating a magnificent life, cuz I’m worth it…  No, I didn’t think I could do shit like this… and the most important question…

What else is possible????

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
(Maya Angelou)  


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.