Life. Vida.

What a word, that.

I hear all the church hymns, Quranic verses, and ancient chants when the word leaves my lips.

One of the most marvelous things about this year is this: It is absolutely nothing like the way I calculated and planned it to be.

The most marvelous thing about this year is also this: I would never, ever have it any other way.

Tripping down the shambling baby-life crisis, I’ve found myself falling in love with the many bruises and cuts that I’ve been collecting along the way. I thought I had to reconfigure my entire life and strive for even more goals, even more perfection. But in every dark pit-stop and deep reflection I’ve gone through this year, I’ve become more and more able in pouring periwinkle sap and warm honey into my crevices… I’ve become stronger and more resilient. I’ve become happier with every tumble… And I so very much embrace these terrible tumbles. I was so determined to pull my life together and dictate it the way I envisioned it in my mind last year. I saw a life adorned and bordered in perfection in my mind’s eye. Admittedly, my plan was very schematic and mechanical. Which is ironic considering the fact that I’ve cultured around Gaia my whole life – I know well enough that mechanistic philosophies do not function well, and organic methods flourish and thrive better.

I know that perfectly organized structures will crumble from a weak core, and that flawed, organic systems are the best option, the only option. In fact, I know a calculated and ‘perfect’ system simply reinforces itself in every node until it collapses. There are no Perfect Systems that can thrive. As I peer through the window on my right as of now, I see the fragmented stratus clouds of the Darwin sky sparkling back at me. If I were to plummet to the ground in this very moment, there is not a single regret I will bring with me. And by heavens and auroras, it’s a very beautiful feeling. I think I even hear Silvio singing in my ears…

True, life is difficult to live wholly at times for the rules and ‘fear’ laws (as I call them) have guarded and gated us jealously. True, it has kept our skin plump and pink, safe and pristine. But how on God’s name did I ever think I could subject my life to that? How can I simply sit on my silk bedsheets, knees to my chest and feel content, and plan life step by step carefully with a 2B pencil… when there are Bossa Nova songs to suffer through, beautiful men and women to explore and learn from, enough tears to drown you, languages to twist your tongues, mistakes to be made and meaningful conflicts to diffuse? When there are pulsating flavors to savor, honey and milk from foreign lands to drink from, dances to master, hearts to break and mend, and breathtaking pain to last a lifetime? When there’s a whole fucking universe you will never run out of things to see… right at your doorstep?

I know what else is true – the fact that I know nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hell, there is so much to learn in this world, and I’ve barely scraped at anything. I thought I’ve been pronouncing bias right this whole time, and I have not. I thought I knew all there was about sustainability but every day I am schooled all the way back to kindergarten. I thought I had an inkling of Latin culture until South America in all its grandeur came and whoop me on my bum. My first-class degree is worth nothing. And I know that very, very well now. I’m not upset – I am so very liberated. The world has a million and one wisdom to offer. And I know that I will be living the rest of my life trying to find the other million I have yet to uncover, although I know I will be both fearful and excited throughout.

Over delicious Sangria the other night, and after listening to my whining about fearing pain when in love, my friend Stephanie asked me the simplest, most important question:

“Did you ever die from any of your heartbreaks?”

Oh, my God. I never did. In fact, I am flourishing and thriving. Why am I so afraid?

I was in an exchange with a friend the other day, and she said to me: “I can’t recognize you-you’re a completely different person than the one who left for Australia”. I was taken aback. But I know now that this was only because I was always terrified of change, and had always embraced inertia like the wings of my own death. I’ve kept my ship in harbor safe and beautiful, but at the end of the day, a ship is meant to sail for it to live.

Well, goodness, to heaven and hell and back – thank goodness. If I spent the last eight months in the explosive hurricane of bliss and anguish elevations, and ended up the same person that left the country, I think I would break a glass and slice my jugular. I have never been more thankful for change in my life, ever, as I do at this very moment. And it’s not only because there are great things happening, but l also attribute it to the ugly things happening and fondly too, to the lukewarm things. When I was 12, I watched a movie starring Ben Affleck and J. Lo called Gigli. It wasn’t the best film. But I remember a piece of advice from ol Ben that forever stuck with me: “If you’re scared, step up. Good things will happen”.

True, I can’t discard the bad things that came flowing in too but that’s life. You can’t open up a waterway and expect only dolphins to flow in – the carps want a piece of the action too. I’m definitely going over my quota of quotes at this point but I have one more – “A crazy person is someone who does exactly the same thing every day and expects a different outcome every time”. No, Ben didn’t say that… Einstein did. (Goosebumps, yet?)

It’s been a great slumber, this whole time… I’ve had my legs wrapped around the bolster like some cherubim, with no care in life. And these beautiful beings, beautiful places, beautiful music, beautiful fucking life have come thundering into my world and leaving golden ribbons everywhere. I feel as though there is a Niagara roaring, flowing, flourishing, cleansing my soul, inside me. Every day I dip my feet in that sand and run around catching the wind with the tropical birds that sing for me. I must never despair anymore.

There is a world of sublime ecological systems within me I can seek solace from.

I thought I needed meditative chants, candles and scents for me to feel reborn. It’s funny because walking past the sewer smelling streets of Chapel Street and soaking in the morning Sun last week, I knew I was reborn in every cell and hair follicle on my body. I feel younger than I have ever felt in my conscious life. I embrace every crawl and every tumble and all the consequences that it throws to my face – I guess I can’t ever laugh wholeheartedly if I don’t cry wholeheartedly too. I might look like a maniac in a corner, going through the clog-works of my emotions but that’s how it looks like when my ship is sailing. Tempest toss… It’s just going through the tempest tosses of the sea of life. And that Perfect System I so badly wanted to seek… I’ll give it a pass. It’s time to change the nodes of my system, wriggle it a bit and see the organic tumblings and risings.

It has not been the easiest thing trying to reconfigure and repeatedly reconfigure life. But every “unintended consequence” (as my friend Daniel likes to say) – has been the greatest misconfiguration. I am so thankful to the universe and all the goodness it has showered me with… I am almost in tears with gratitude.

So… Did I achieve anything I set out on my 2020 journey?

Tangibly – None whatsoever.
Intangibly – I’m a completely different person.

And I think that’s progress in its best form.

I’m turning twenty-three in exactly three weeks,

and I have never been happier and prouder of myself.