I’m trying to spend most sunsets at The Pointe. Thinking, writing, basking in the glorious weather and even more glorious view. Nevermind the mosquitos picking at my legs (I should know better than wearing shorts by this point).
As the days grow closer to leaving, everything becomes so much more real. Miami — this beautiful city that those who lives here brag about, and those who don’t live here dream of vacationing in some time — comes to life. In ways that I probably took for granted for too many years, and that I might not have appreciated had I not found myself right here. That is, only a couple of weeks away from leaving it for an indefinite amount of time.
I was at the beach this past weekend, and even though I grew up there, I can hardly say it was like any other time. As I wiggled my toes in the sand and looked out at the seemingly endless ocean, all I could think was, “I can’t believe how beautiful my home is.” The oceans. The palm trees. The blistering heat. The Spanish banter on the streets. The culture, music, dance. Everyone just seems like they’re excited about life here, maybe because Miami is such a young city, and the majority of the people who originally moved here were escaping some sort of oppression in the homeland. They came here with something to prove, and they handed that down to us and embroidered that spirit into the city.
But even though it’s beyond what I could ever put into words, I know that it’s time for something new — at least for now. That it’s time to take a shot at something I really believe in, and that I’m ready for the new life that awaits me, although I know that also means a bit of home sickness. That will definitely come in due time.
For now, though, I’ll be making all the sunsets at The Pointe count more than they ever have.
It’s official. It finally happened. All those statistics about college grads’ futures not being so promising, down the drain. And that light at the end of the tunnel that everyone always talks about, it’s real. How do I know? Well, I recently landed my dream job, which, by the way, I didn’t even know existed before a few months ago. In fact, a few months ago I had noidea what was in the cards for me at all. I knew what I wanted to do, what I was good at, and what my ideal situation looked like — but I had no idea how any of these things would come together, no remote clue as to how they could all possibly fit into one picture.
But as fate might have it, life has a way of putting the pieces together for you when you feel the most confused. It has a way of saying, “Look how easy that was! What exactly were you so worried about?” at the moment when you feel the most lost and anxious. My message is this: there really is hope for all of us. For me, the ingredients were hard work, persistence(some might call it borderline-annoyingness), prayers, and a whole lot of patience (more than I even knew I had in me, actually). To sum it up into one good, old-fashioned “moral of the story”: If you keep your eye on the prize and combine it with faith, hope and a little bit of sweat, it all just works itself out. But aside from that,I learned something else — that sometimes you gotta lose some to win some.
Which brings me to my next point. I’m starting to see that sometimes the biggest decisions are the hardest to make, and this decision I’ve made is life-changing, exhilarating, amazing, exciting, and — well, how can I put this eloquently — freakin’ scary. It means everything changes. I go from a life in which I’m comfortable and familiar with the faces and places around me, to the exact opposite. A brand new place to call home.
Which brings me to my next next point. There’s so much that goes into the word “home”: memories of family, friends, maybe a house where your parents lived an outrageous number of years and made you wonder how the walls are still standing. Home is a concept that’s different for everyone, but it’s also one that binds humanity and reminds us of our roots, a place from where we grew, a place where we feel comfortable, and one where we can find refuge.
“Home” can manifest itself in different ways for different people. For me, it’s the joy of family and an unbreakable unity that has stemmed from countless, invaluable memories that make up a story so uniquely us. Home is in my father’s heavy Colombian accent, his whole-hearted laugh, and the tiny red car in which he drove me, my two sisters and my two cousins to St. Timothy every morning for so many years. (We called it “the booger”, and somehow no one ever questioned whether packing six people into a mini vehicle was even legal.) Home is in my mother’s thousands of life lessons (mainly transmitted through Spanish metaphors that, when we were young, left us more confused than wise), her youthful beauty, and her unrelenting love, even when we drove her near to her insanity. Home is in my two crazy sisters, who have been and always will be the best friends I’ve ever had. And as I write this, a few weeks before leaving and starting a new chapter of my life elsewhere, there’s a knot building up in my throat as I realize that I’ll be far from them soon.
But I do know, without a doubt, that the other old adage, “home is where the heart is”, also holds a lot of truth to it. My heart will always be with my family, and therefore they will always be with me.
Call me crazy (no, really, you probably will after you read this), but I sometimes feel like some musicians and artists write songs specifically about my life, and I hear them at the very moment when they relate to me most. Jason Mraz –– who I, personally, consider one of the wiser human beings to walk the planet –– recently released a song called “93 Million Miles”. Here’s a snippet of some of the lyrics:
“Every road is a slippery slope,
There is always a hand that you can hold onto.
Looking deeper through the telescope,
You can see that your home’s inside of you.
Just know that wherever you go,
No you’re never alone,
You will always get back home.”
I think the man’s onto something. Everyone has a home that they can go back to, and even though it’s difficult for my family to see me go, and heartbreaking for me to know that I may be bringing them sadness, I know they will always be my rock-solid foundation. You see, I’m taking my home with me wherever I go, so that not even the greatest amount of miles are enough to ever really come between us.
It’s safe to say that nothing can break the bond of family, especially not mine, that has stuck together through some of the most trying of times. Maybe thanks to “the booger”, we’ve been glued together since we were too small to worry about anything but when we would get to jump in the pool with our uniforms on next. I think it’ll be tough for any new job or city to undo that long-standing gooey mess.
Sorry, did I not end that with the prettiest mental image? I’ll try it again: don’t be afraid to make some big changes, grow, and embrace new challenges — but never lose sight of home.
That’s my plan, at least. How could I ever really leave these boogers anyway?
It happens all the time and we never really understand it. At least not at the moment it happens. That moment when everything seems calm, normal and happy. Then, suddenly everything changes. It feels like the world has suddenly turned upside down. And we’re shaken — it almost literally feels like the world is shaking us — as we’re now forced to figure out how to dodge this curveball.
But sometimes it just hits, like an unexpected rainstorm that shuts off all the lights and leaves us in the dark.
This happened to my cousin, one of my closest friends, recently. Her life was changed by a decision the person she loved made. And now she’s figuring out how to navigate through the darkness and work her way back to normalcy.
But the meantime, this transition period as she finds her way back to herself and her happiness, is really, for lack of a better word, sucky. This isn’t just an ordinary girl, though. This is the author of a blog about all things happy, called “La Vida es un Jamón” (if you’re intrigued or confused by the title, here’s a brief explanation). This is a girl who tried to spread joy unto others by sharing her stories and passions. This is a girl with a heart of gold and an endless supply of love for the people in her life.
Violeta, the Nicaraguan Wonder Woman who helped raise me and is still a huge part of my life, put it to me more poetically than I ever could. I was driving her home in a thunderstorm a few days ago. Well, no, it was more like the Apocalypse. (When you live in Miami, the weather is rarely ever a happy medium; it’s either utopian or borderline-hurricane.) We could barely see the streets and were stuck in traffic for nearly two hours. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped –– the calm in the eye of the storm. And Violeta said:
“Ya pasó la tormenta. Ahora está la calma. Cuando uno ve la lluvia, todo se ve un desastre. Pero ahora se ve todo claro, porque ya no hay lluvia.”
Translation: “The storm has passed, and now there is calm. When one is caught in the rain, everything looks like a disaster. But now everything is seen clearly, because the rain is gone.”
Violeta’s got a point. Once the storm passes and the rain no longer clouds our vision, that’s where we can find peace and calm. We’ve all been lost, confused and hurt before, and it’s times like these when we need each other the most. Life just keeps going, and the storms are inevitable, but once they’re gone, the sun always comes out and shines like a beacon of hope. Usually, it’s family — whatever definition of family you may have — that helps lead us back to where the light is. They remind us of who we really are and that we’re never alone.
And I’m here to remind my cousin that she is strong, brave, independent and beautiful from the inside out. Y que a pesar de todo, Gordi, la vida sigue siendo un jamón.
“And if we could float away,
Fly up to the surface and just start again,
And lift off before trouble just erodes us in the rain,
Just erodes us,
And see roses in the rain…Through chaos as it swirls,
It’s us against the world.”- Coldplay, “Us Against the World”
You know that feeling when an old lady crouches down within inches of your face, pulls out her claws, pinches your cheeks and strikes you with that old cliché: “She’s growing up so fast!”
It’s probably happened to all of us, every year of our lives, even when we’ve grown taller than the elderly women. Sure, the incessant pinching might start to get slightly annoying, but at some point we realize they were right all along. We really do grow up fast.
That happened to me recently. Not the old lady squishing my cheeks part (although that did too, actually), but the other part. I earned my college degree a few days ago, and I think that means I’m supposed to feel sophisticated and ready for the “real world.” Or maybe it just means I’m getting old. Either way, none of those is really accurate, except maybe the last one.
For the last several months, or longer, I’ve been so anxious to figure out my life post-graduation. Where will I live? Where will I work? Am I going to be able to get my dream job? I’ve been worried about being in that percentage of college grads that’s unemployed or underemployed. You know, that more-than-half-of-college-grads percentage. And even though I’ve worked since I was 16 — whether it was minimum wage at Hollister or college internships — I’ve been worried that I won’t find “a good job.”
The vast majority of us are in the same boat –– as in, we’re freaking out. But lately I’ve been making a conscious effort to not try to have it all figured out, to just do my best and let the rest happen the way it’s meant to be. In the end, it’ll come together like pieces of a puzzle, except this time, there’s no picture on the front of the box telling us what the end result is going to look like. And that uncertainty is what’s been scaring me most — the “Uh oh, what am I going to do? Where will that lead me? What will become of my life?” questions that, in retrospect, make me sound like a paranoid, worry-wart, hypochondriac, crazy lady.
Really, I should be trying to preserve the child in me, the one that likes to have fun, live freely and confidently, and take every moment as it comes. That kid is alive in me and in all of us, but at some point along the line (probably around the same time we’re shoved into the real world, expected to suddenly know how to maneuver the strange road to adulthood), we tend to lose sight of that child. And that’s what I don’t want to happen. I think time is going to fly by whether I like it or not, so it really doesn’t need anymore rushing from me.
A couple of nights ago, a family friend’s 4-year-old daughter, Jamie, made a special guest appearance at my graduation party. She told me about a trophy she had won for an elocutionist poem she recited in front of her class. Of course, I had to see this award-winning performance, and Jamie, a little shy, agreed to do it in the privacy of my room. She stood in front of me twiddling her thumbs and looking down for a few seconds before she started. And then, the fear was suddenly gone, as if it had never been there at all. She put her hand on one hip and began to recite her poem about her allergies to cats and fish and boats and mosquitoes, with body motions to act out the rhymes. And for those 30 seconds, it was like the room went dark and a spotlight shone on her. There was no fear — only talent, bravery and confidence.
So, yes, now’s the time to leave behind the late-night college parties and start getting used to waking up before 11 a.m. Now’s the time to find ways to become the professionals we want to be, an undoubtable challenge in this not-so-fruitful economy. But it’s also the time to stay a kid, stay excited about life, stay fearless with the certainty that it’ll all just work out. I think this is the recipe to chasing out the nerves and anxiety and replacing them with happiness and peace of mind.
Besides, why should I worry so much and rush to grow up? After all, it seems like the 4-year-olds are the ones getting the trophies these days.
Thank you so much, Annebelle!! You’re even more awesome, and I see you found the same, so congrats! ;) Sending all my love to you, babycakes!!
Thank you so much for that and for reading, Devin. It means a lot to me, really, and it’s very fueling to hear you say that. Just FYI, that comment made my day. Thanks again! -Caro
I guess it’s normal to fear the unknown. It’s nobody’s fault, really; it’s the way we’re wired naturally. We feel safe in the warm comfort of our familiar worlds, and some never really feel the need for change. And that’s fine. It’s actually quite smart. The safer route? The less traveled road? Why should it change? It promises security. None of us really know what’s under the uncharted dark waters, but if we stay in the boat, we might not ever have to find out. It’s risk-free.
But lately I’ve realized that while this type of person is smart for taking this route (though everyone faces life’s inevitable challenges eventually), that person is not me. I’m different, and I’ve always known it. I was born for the thrill of an extraordinary life, to see and learn as much as I can about the world I live in and the people in it, to unveil the meaning of it all.
And though I’ve always known I’m somewhat of a free spirit (okay, maybe “somewhat” is understating it), I’ve lived in my comfort zone my entire life. I was born and raised in Miami, I stayed in South Florida for college, and while I’ve done my fair share of traveling the world, I’ve always known I was meant for something more. And I think I’ve finally found out what that is.
You see, I’ve always wondered what I’m here for. I’ve always been aware that I have a way of connecting with others, whether they’re three or 93, and have always had a genuine desire to do so. I’ve seen the power that a piece of writing, a simple song, or merely taking the time to talk can have on a person. I’ve seen my God-given talents move people in ways I haven’t always understood, but I knew I was meant to do it forever. I’ve always been fascinated by love and recognized its role in my own life. Despite some unfortunate experiences, I’ve done my best not to lose faith in it. I’ve always had a blind certainty that love is what runs the world and drives humanity. It’s the reason we’re all here, and so I’ve sought to spread love and hope in all the ways I knew how.
I also always thought there was a separation between this kind of love and the romantic kind. In fact, I’ve had a grip on the non-romantic kind of love since I was a teenager. I learned that love is faith in action. It goes on and on. It saves lives. It’s what connects us all to one another. It’s the light in the darkest room.
But that’s exactly what the romantic kind of love is, too. It’s just that, but applied to one single person. A best friend. An unconditional companion. I never quite understood it (and, quite frankly, thought it was kind of cheesy), and I wasn’t sure it would ever find me. The real kind of love, the kind that lasts and binds two people into one timeless, undefeated team. I always hoped to find it, but I never knew what it really was — until now. It feels like that part of me has been asleep, waiting to fully wake up — until now.
Nicholas Sparks wrote:
“The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds…”
And that’s what the person I love has given me. It’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt. It feels like a splash of water on my face, like a fire in my heart. And it’s so much more than a feeling. Feelings can sometimes change as easily as the seasons, but love doesn’t. It doesn’t fade or dissipate. I read somewhere that it’s the recognizing of your soul’s counterpart in someone else, and couldn’t agree more.
When I was 16, I described love in a blog post as finding someone who holds your heart hostage and sets it free at the same time. Someone that sees and loves you for all your colors, even the ones that are too bright. I said there was someone out there for everyone, although at the time I wasn’t convinced that I was actually included in that. And now I’ve found someone who fits this criteria, who gives me all this and more — and all I want to do is give it right back, tenfold.
The past year has been a whirlwind of excitement, love, confusion, hard work, and a growing into my own skin. And the past few months have had a little more emphasis on the confusion part, with slightly more than a dab of stress and anxiety. I’ve been planning my life post graduation, applying for jobs, working multiple jobs to be prepared for the real world, while excelling in school. Add to that a long distance relationship, and you might not be surprised to hear that it’s been quite a stressful period. But a really exciting one at that.
I’ve come to know myself, my priorities, my values, my goals and my purpose more clearly than ever. And now, after much inner debate, I’ve made my decision: to follow my heart and what’s important to me, to pursue my career and continue my life in a place that’s close to my teammate. It’s a sacrifice, for sure. It’s nerve-racking to delve into a brand new world, one where you know very little about the place and know even less of the people in it. But I somehow know this is right. And I also know that the only way to see this through is to take this leap of faith. To spread my wings and take flight. The only way to find out how the story ends is to make a decision, run with it and just give it my best shot. I don’t know much, but I know that as long as he’s holding my hand when I make the jump, I’ll be more than okay.
It’s the decision to go through this journey together, because it just wouldn’t make any sense to be without the other. Because we need each other now and we’ll need each other later, too. Because together is the way it should be. And because once you find “the best love,” you don’t let it go.
At some point, we have to break away from the stress and remind ourselves that life is still awesome, no matter what. As much as the pile of work and our ever growing to-do lists try to consume us, we have to fight it off – at least for a little bit – to just breathe and smile.
I’m taking a break from the madness of life these days (let alone, tonight) to remind myself, and whoever might be reading this, that there’s more to life than the tedious tasks that make up our days, which sometimes become our routine.
Life should never stop being an adventure. There can fun in challenges and there can be excitement in routine. If I let myself get consumed by work and worries, I’ll blind myself to all the goodness and fun going on around me.
There’s so much to love and live up in every new day, because it’s just that – a new day. And that’s beautiful. So, even if it rains, I’m making it a point to see the sun shining.
Or at least I promise to try.
Because if we have the choice between a down and dull life, or one that’s full of happiness and meaning, why not choose the one that’s most aesthetically appealing?
Baby rescued from Turkey quake rubble.
Two-week-old pulled alive from collapsed building along with her mother and grandmother as death toll climbs above 400.
let it go-the
smashed word broken
open vow or
the oath cracked length
wise-let it go it
was sworn to
go
let them go-the
truthful liars and
the false fair friends
and the boths and
neithers-you must let them go they
were born
to go
let all go-the
big small middling
tall bigger really
the biggest and all
things-let all go
dear
so comes love.
-e.e. cummings
(via the-absolute-best-posts)
The sun always comes out after the storm. And sometimes, if you’re looking out and lucky enough to catch it, you get to see a rainbow. It’s something beautiful, extraordinary, colorful, and a mystery to most.
The majority of people don’t know how something so perfect is even formed, but does there even need to be a reason? Maybe it just serves as a reminder that if we stick it out through the cold rain and dark clouds, that the sun shines on your face again. Maybe it’s a reminder that life isn’t shades of grey, but is really an array of extravagant colors. Maybe it’s just a reminder that life - everything that comes with it, every new day - is a perfect combination of mystery and beauty.
It’s not only about the times that are easy. It’s about hanging onto hope during those moments where you want to give up. It’s about the trust that love won’t let you fall. It’s when you feel so weak that you realize how strong you really are.
This life only happens once, kid. Don’t miss your chance to see the rainbow.
