LOVE

LOVE.

Its competitive instinct, that throws us off course.

Vying for one another's attention.

Revelations of desire and pain.

Confessions of fear, insecurities and validity.

Dependency, attachment. Spats of consequence.

Love is risky between us beings of creation.

But, were we not meant for inspiration?

Are we not here but for the breeding of connection?

We weep and plead for loves continuity, stability, and consistency.

Yet, we cyclically scream the distinctions between our cultures, color, gender, religion and race.

Love is a hard way, the elders say.

To keep loving is bestial, dire and uncertain.  

Wondering constantly if the devastation of its loss will cease.

Whining that the past is dead.

Wishing for beings of another age.

The breasts of our mother's unconditional love are sown and we are lost, searching for the lukewarm milk, now treaded upon dirt and trash.

All one must do is find it, the elders say. And yet she and he and we cannot.

The young girl prematurely loves a boy, but will not to tell him so.

The woman secretly loves another woman but will never act upon it.

The poet “incestually” loves a cousin but neither of them knows it.

The son loved his father and never asked for that needed embrace of recognition.

The lover ceaselessly hopes to be his love’s only one.

And hidden longings still remain untold.

Comply with the system, uphold society’s beliefs, justify the agony of the caged with the comfort of the free, unearth desolation through wanton hearts, outcast the rebels, cheer the sheep, objectify the misunderstood and disregard the minority.

The problem lying within the simple rule that still becomes the question...

Are we here to find love?

No friends were here to maintain it, cultivate, and sustain it.

LOVE has completed its destination…

Through the trees, the oceans, the mountains, the rivers, the wind, the rain, the fog, the snow and skies.

Through the creation of the universe, stars, moon and sun.

Through the flight of eagles, the glide of dolphins, the winsomeness of hummingbirds and the howling of wolves.

Through music and dance.

Through the power of expression, the arts.

Through free will.

Through the fulfillment of dreams.

Through our ancestors, grandparents, and parents.

Through our descendants, children, and grandchildren.

Through the warmth of family.

Through the reuniting of lost ones.

Through friendship, parenthood and sister-brotherhood.

Through the end of war.

Through the victory of justice.

Through the search for peace.

Through the laughter of people.

Through birth and through death.

Through the presence of light in darkness.

Through happiness and sadness.

Through knowledge, principles and virtues.

Through respect, integrity and kindness.

Through the eternal memory of our long gone loved ones.

Through the infinite sea of my lover’s eyes.

LOVE has completed its destination through ALL, through US, through YOU.

LOVE is eternal here.

There is nothing to find, there is no need to search.

LOVE has never left.

Duende, siempre duende.

-N

BLESSED WITH A BURDEN

Hello Humanity,

I’ve decided to start a blog.  I have no idea how the blog world works or exactly what it’s about, but, as with any creation or art form, I will take it as an expression and for that I’m guessing... there are no rules.  And for this freedom, I am ecstatically grateful!

Here it is, my very first entry.

It shall be called..  as the blog has been called:

Blessed with a burden…

Why?

It all starts with a peculiar characteristic that I was born with: a deep need and desire to connect.  A need to move, and by move, I do not mean to literally ‘physically’ move, but rather to create movement within...to move the soul. To reach for that life force, to reach for what my dear Federico Garcia Lorca called, Duende.  And in that reach, find your vehicle of connection and if blessed enough, to find what I like to call "the wind's back", ride on it into the spirit's undiscovered shores.

Dance was my first vehicle of connection.  For eighteen years it represented the wind's back.  I would dance for anyone willing to watch.  I would pretend to be whatever character the music whispered I was.  Allowing myself to go through any emotion that the dance would spring forward.  Until one day, around the age of twelve, a family member told me that my way of expression was “embarrassing, and very uncomfortable for others to witness”. 
I completely shut down, I began to doubt myself and shy away from searching for my artistry.  I felt shame for being the way I was, the way I still am.  I felt crazy in the eyes of others, for desiring to feel it all and to feel it greatly.  I felt selfish for needing to share it. And so, I abandoned the wind's back.

As the years passed on, I tried on many different armors, went through many distinct stages.  Trying desperately to fit in, betraying the unique quality that defined me and criticizing it when I saw it in others.  Anything that would save me from the embarrassment that my need to connect had brought me.  Ultimately, fighting a lost battle, alone and against myself.  None of this helped, whatsoever.  It just made it worse.  The fire within, was burning its way out of me.  Consuming me.  I got angry at the world.  The burden was beginning to be too heavy.  I needed to connect, I needed to reach.  So, I decided to fly away.  In search for my place in this world.  I wanted to travel on the wind's back again. For the wind is everywhere, it touches everything and everyone, at a certain point in life its bound to move and shake every single one of us, its up above and down bellow. It resides outside and inside all. It can be strong and soft. Its constant movement. Its all encompassing. But, to ride on its back again, I had to be brave, be emotionally naked, engage, share and be willing to truly be seen.  No matter what the outcome was. 
Did I stumble?  Indeed I did.  Did I hurt?  You bet I did.  Did I experience shame again?  I most certainly did.  BUT...I also began to accept myself without exceptions and therefore encountered the tranquility and beauty that it is to love oneself.  This all resulting in the discovery of kindred spirits, people like me, who were also running in search for "stillness". 

See, I believe our world suffers, from a deadly disease.  Deadly because it kills our most primal need, the need to connect with each other.  And that sickness is: that we are inherently unwilling to feel, be moved, or allow others and ourselves to truly be seen.  Therefore, we unknowingly cast aside those that do.  We suffer from the idea that we have to fit in, when uniqueness is so much more interesting.  We suffer from trying to group everything together, from having to have a box for everyone.  Is it being close-minded?  Maybe.  But I believe it is actually being close-hearted.  Why are we so dreadfully afraid of connecting?  Is it fear that we will look within and perhaps find a weird, unique voice and come to the realization that it is completely different from what’s accepted or in fashion?  Is it the fear to be seen as we are, with all our cracks?  Or is it the fear of not being accepted?  Is it the fear of not being enough? Or is it the fear of the potential emotional risk, that it involves, to be open-hearted?  Is it all just fear to connect, to consciously engage?  To ride on the wind's back? 

“Blessed with a burden” is a term that Brian, my husband invented to describe his artistry, his fire, the need to connect with the world.  It deeply resonated with me and so I now use it for myself.  To be an artist or to just be willing to be seen, in all the expression of the word, is a wonderful blessing but also a heavy, lonely, burden.

It means: to feel as intensely for others as you feel for yourself.  To accept the ugly and the beautiful, the darkness and the light, that shapes you as well as others and be grateful for those two opposing forces.  It means to be compassionate.  To know empathy.

It means: to constantly take risks.  To engage. To look within, question others and ourselves.  It means to be fearless enough to willingly be emotionally exposed and truly be seen.  It means to be courageous.  To know bravery.

It means: to constantly ride on the wind's back.  Letting it lead you to your destination.   Be it a feeling, a creation, a person, a place.  It means to constantly reach.  It means to live in a perpetual state of humility with all.  It means to constantly be aware that we all are worthy of love.  It means to engage and be connected.  To search for the human experience.

I am now an actress, an actress living in the jungle of Los Angeles, faced daily with the reality that no one is going to give me "the wind's back". And so I must keep searching for it, crafting it, creating it.  Connecting, somehow, somewhere, with you all, my readers, my partners in travel.

And so, for now, this blog shall be just that…my wind's back. 

A space that demands that I show up, engage, feel and BE truthful. 

A space, where I will fail and therefore learn.

A space, where I can reach and hopefully connect.

A space, for the human experience.

A space, for vulnerability.

A space, for worthiness.

And so, I shall burden you all with this blessing and hopefully someday bless you with my burden….

Duende, siempre duende.

-N.