On Saturday, I returned to Hellman Hollow to visit my tree, a towering Monterey cypress standing alone in the field like a wise elder. Its bark, like hand-painted strokes of brown and gold, welcomed my touch. That day, it wasn’t just a tree. It became a bridge between San Francisco and Nicaragua, between memory and presence. As my children hugged its trunk and placed daisies in its roots, I felt it: Infinite. Alive. An anchor in time.

I no longer strive to be a Superwoman. Before, I didn’t want to be mediocre, and I tried to excel in everything until I got exhausted.

Transformation happens when we surrender to it with compassion and resilience in a never-ending journey from consciousness to action.

Self-acceptance goes beyond acknowledging the good; it's about embracing life's imperfections and finding order amidst chaos.

The realization that I didn't know how to love was excruciating. "You are love," whispers a magical being in my ear.

Through the wounds caused by silence, existence obscured by so many secrets, I promise to live in the light, to open myself to the...

(Message to my mom from when she had not yet shed her skin - 05/26/2022) Mom, forgive me for being tough on you, for judging and...

How is time measured? By each one's memory? Do memories have their own time and organize themselves in a random calendar? Do they endure and intertwine at their whim? Mine is the non-time. The time that passes and yet doesn't. The cycle, the spiral, and the moment. Memories of a past knocking on the door or yet to come. It's not time, it's life and experience. Substance. The body, being a living organism, has a cycle or destiny, a mission. And in its being, in its nature, it

Dear readers and friends, After a pause that felt eternal, I am excited to announce that my blog is back, filled with renewed energy. Why...

Three months, Mom, of living you in my heart and in the silence. Of looking at your photograph and bursting into tears. Three months of...