The Real Me

The Real Me

As I continue exploring Magic, I return to my Creed:

1. I believe in Evolution, the process of upleveling.

2. Humor and Belly laughs unite us.

3. Yoga, meditation, and a healthy lifestyle are my jams.

4. If it’s not a “Hell Yes!” I’m not doing it.

5. I cry when I sing.

6. I believe empathy is the secret sauce for healing and change.

7. Curiosity and Beginner’s Mind are the most frequented tools in my toolbox.

8. I Have Time is my new religion.

9. My father’s death reminds me how fleeting this life is.

10. Love is Love is Love is Love is Love.

Liza Fernandez

velocity

velocity

Velocity.
Extreme focus ready to rock the day.
Mind at the service of the body.
At the ready,
What do you WANT to do today?

God, I get so overwhelmed by possibility.
Today’s explorations are endless!
It is like energy bottled, and ready for drinking.
And then here’s the thing:

I fear someone will take it away.
I fear I have to give it up, take on someone else’s wishes.
It haunts me. I stiffen at the idea of it.
And then (the irony), I yearn for it.
Maybe some rest, or going over there is a better choice.

Dog,
Lover,
Family,
Bills, calls, dishes, laundry, etc,
The unexpectedness of life,

Freedom is having the choice
To use my own velocity the way I want to.
To make decision deep within the soils of the soul
So I can birth strong roots to grow a magnificent plant
With leaves that stretch for days,
To nurture not just her,
But all those around her.

tender

tender

Weeks, since writing.
Cause? Open heart surgery.
Recuperating is like watching hair grow.
He said many things.
She did the same.
Words, on repeat, like radio.

You don’t really know someone.. until you do.
A wakeup call.
Without warning,
We went from green to red.

I take responsibility.
For stepping over my boundaries.
I carry that mark.
Wounds, please heal fast.
I hope time is our friend, my love.

What a time to be disconnected
In this beautiful, vast cyber city.
What should be hibernation with cuddles and warm blankets
What should be hugs holding us through the night –
Is not.
Let’s see how it turns out…

Tender.
Heart. Pride. Certainty. Love.

let’s pretend

1_blueberries.jpg

FADE IN: a couple who have been arguing.

Let’s pretend for a while. Let’s be two different people with different pasts and different heartaches.

What are you talking about?

Let’s forget we’re fighting and pretend we don’t know each other. “Hey there,” (he smiles)

Stop it.

“How’s the coffee?”

I’m not playing this stupid game

“That’s a pretty dress.”

“Thank you,” (she mutters as she rolls her eyes)

“Got something special happening today?”

“Nope, just waiting for my boyfriend to wake the fuck up.”

“Oh, he’s a late sleeper?”

“No, he’s a dickhead who can’t see what’s in front of him.”

(he smiles)

“Well, if he forgets to tell you, know that you heard it from me: you look beautiful.”

(she looks away)

“You are beautiful.”

Stop it (she looks away again) 

“Can I get you a blueberry muffin to go with your coffee?”

FADE OUT.

hell on a hampster wheel

hell on a hamster wheel

Name: Nick from San Francisco
Occupation: student of hair
Age: 26
Tattoos on his face

Why the lapse in time? I relapsed, went back to rehab. Yeah, I’m 1.5 years sober, third time now. Did you know 3% who leave rehab go back to using, and only 1% kick it after 5 years? Yeah, it’s no joke. Opioids are the real thing.

I mean. When you’re on it. It’s like you’re being hugged by God. The feeling. I mean, I can’t explain it. But here’s the thing: the first few times, you get that God-hugging feeling, but then, for all the other times, you’re trying to feel normal. You’re doing what it takes to avoid the detox feeling. And that feeling, is like death, 10x. It’s the worst kinda flu that just doesn’t go away. I mean, it does after 3 weeks but that feels like an eternity. We all dread it so we keep using. It’s living in hell on a hamster wheel.
You know, I think that’s what happened to Michael J and Prince and even that actor guy, Phillip Hoffman. They detoxed, they tried to kick the game, they went back to the same dose they were taking before — bang, bang — it tips them over the edge. Heroin makes you sleep, so they went to sleep.

I know so many people who’ve died in my life. Oh man. My girl, her boyfriend – I mean, they never really broken up cuz he died – his death rocked her. And she was a user, that’s how we met. She was in a rehab in Milwaukee and then transferred to the San Francisco one and yeah, that’s how we met. She’s one month ahead of me but she’s really miles beyond me. I think it’s the combination of having a rock like her, and purpose. That keeps me outta trouble.

Don’t think my parents are whack. The two of them are the only sober ones out of a family of users. We have a good relationship. We talk every day. You gotta understand, opioids they’re non-discriminative. It’ll swallow anyone who wants to dance. Anyone. You too. [he shyly laughs]

sucks the air thin

sucks the air thin

There’s a silence that’s almost deafening.
The kind where, at a party, the music stops and everyone looks up and says to no one, “Hey, what happened?”
The kind that the body shutters from its piercing.
A Void.

I was turning 16. I wanted a big party; bodyguards, a live band, DJ, pay at the door, the whole shebang. I worked hard; I got my artistic sister to create the flyer, gave them out at my and my brother’s schools. A week before, everyone was talking about it, the word spread quick. The band was known enough to build a crowd, I was in love with the drummer who should’ve been the lead singer he was that eccentric.

I rented a trophy room off a big sports facility, facing a big oval where my brother’s school played footy. The party drew a huge crowd, a long line waited around the bend even until 11pm, an hour before close. I was shocked. I barely knew anyone, and when I did, they were intoxicated and in the throes of what it took to be a teenager at a party in the 90s.

Flash forward to afterward. Mum, bro and sis, and my best friends, with black trash bags and rubber gloves, helped me clean up the evidence. Well, enough to get our safety deposit back.

I must’ve sat down somewhere, took it all in. I hope I did. I’m hoping I popped a squat facing the oval of lush greenery and tsunamic eucalyptus trees. Muscles spent and feet regaining circulation from improper use of heels. A mix of pride and exhaustion. A mix of elation and isolation.

And then silence.
The Void.

How it sucks the air thin.