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

don’t make me tell you twice

don't make me tell you twice
FADE IN:

I can’t hardly sleep no more. I useta be able to leave the TV on for hours, and not hear a peep.
Life man, it’s exhausting, and then I can’t sleep.
I got a new home now, a kid. A kid, man!
A kid that –
Listen, the other day he came over to me and said, “For Christmas, I want an X-Box One X. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
I was like, “Ok, fool, whatever.”
A few minutes later, he comes back to me, “Dad, don’t forget I want an X-Box One X for Christmas. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
At this point, I’m like, “Why you tellin’ me twice then?”
And then it dawned on me, this kid doesn’t understand what that phrase means.
So, I explain it to him.
He looks at me and says, “You always saying it at the end of your sentences, and you’re always saying it mad-like.”

That’s a mirror to my fuckin’ face.
Fuckin’ kids.
They’re watching us too much.

FADE OUT.

not my girls

not my girls.jpg

FADE IN: masseuse at work. 

I don’t know who started it but I don’t like it (she laughs).

Why doesn’t the man take on a married name like the woman does? Women have been branded like a cow (she laughs). You say, “Oh, hi Mr. Smith,” and you have no idea if he’s married or not. How many married men actually wear their rings? I see women proud to sport around a big rock on their finger, but men? (she laughs).
These are old social habits that we accept as the normal. I want to know who made these things up? Do you know who? (she laughs).

Haha, it’s our culture.

Yes, but no. I do not agree and I will not allow it. Not in my home and not with my girls. My girls are going to know independence. They see their mom working a full-time job, going to school, putting her own money in the bank. My girls know that a woman does not need to rely on anyone but herself. No rock will make them feel powerful. Education, confidence, intelligence, virtue, yes, those things will make them feel proud. And my girls are beautiful – half Russian, half Thai. Oh my goodness, I have a big road ahead of me (she laughs). No, they will not be dumb girls. I am a fantastic mother, and student and daughter and friend. Yes, I have my husband but we are two independent people, we are equals. I like it like that, and I am setting an example for my girls.

FADE OUT.

March’s Blue Moon

March Blue Moon

Double whammy this month. March is a Blue Moon, an astronomical term. Not cuz it’s blue but because either it’s either an extra full Moon that occurs in a season, or there’s a second full moon in a calendar month, hence this month’s second moon.

Ok, Beautiful Blue Moon, here goes:

I let go of what I knew.

I let go of what I deem are ‘mistakes’.

I let go of holding back.

I cultivate second chances. 

I cultivate trying again for the fun of it.

I cultivate freedom.

Your turn.
Liza Fernandez

tomorrow, lovely one

tomorrow, lovely one

This is my shadow.
A life a few feet behind me.
That shirt. God, I thought I tossed it.
This smell..brings me back to here.
When it was then.

I sat at this very table processing, organizing, dreaming, concocting.
He sat catching a show on the tube.
I would go to sleep full of dreams and plans and, well, darkness.
Truth is,
How can you build on unsteady ground?
This work is hard and real and very necessary.

These pants. I hope they fit.
Do I still want the books, the socks, the dusty makeup?
Maybe not the makeup.
The muffled city outside taps on my window.
Tomorrow, lovely one. Tomorrow.

My little treetop of goodness.
How it fills my soul.
Silence. No dog. No schedule. No errands.
Not yet. Just. Me.
Hard work happens on an exhaustive plane home,
Unpacking and sifting and embracing my fragile heart.

Eyes like thick drops of oil.
Body like a sleepy kitten. Make that an older cat.
And still,
Mind swimming uphill with zest, or maybe desperation.
Nope.
Tomorrow, lovely one. Tomorrow.