2012 is ending. Good bye to another year, farewell to an organized collection of sunsets and morning dews. Good bye to a filing cabinet of structured periods of time that fit nicely into a concept called weeks. Good bye to this rotation around the sun that held many of my own tiny orbits around topics, people, and places. Good bye to a series of "getting it wrongs"and strung together "you should of done betters". Fuck you to the sun burns along the way that prove too much of a good thing can be damaging. Good bye 2012 I'll cherish you.
This year I said hello to my Shadows. Greetings pity, I am sorry to disturb you under my bed, I rarely look there. Let's dust you off and frame you to honor the struggles you've helped me accept. Thank you cynicism for going on a diet and loosing the flat tire around the waist of suffering, suffocating your ability to help me breathe life into possibility. I think the new disgruntled you looks good in well thought out perceptions. Hello grey hair, I see I've earned the right to introduce you to my narcissism. Shadow it has been nice getting to know you. You are as discouraging as I imagined, and it has been rewarding embracing you. You've always demonstrated and whined about how your always misunderstood, you have my attention. Well for what its worth, I couldn't face my fears without you. I think I like what you can bring to the table, like wasabi, that stimulating briskness that awakens the senses. You make my grind so much more informative these days. Thank you for helping me discover ways of seeing your dignity, you are the greatest asset to the maturation of my love. 2012 brought my shadow into the light.
2012 you give me momentum to launch into 2013. Endurance get on board this segway to the New Year, you did me well. Injustice you are not welcome but I've been told you must come with us. I believe you are truly and always misunderstood, maybe societies shadow. I will defend your right to exist even if you continue to misuse the weapons of deceit and pride. No good byes to suffering, I need you to keep me real. No tears for 2012, I cried them on time this year. No cheers for time gone, remembering you slows me down. Appreciation for lessons recognized through arrogance's mistakes and mercy's fight. To a 38th chance at orbiting the sun. This year may love find me without collisions, and may it shine on the lady who has struggled to not give up on understanding me. May peace be upon me and let it be an epidemic.
With words of care for myself and you. I am who I'm being, I was who I thought I should be, and I will never get a chance to be who I could have been. I am adjusting.
This year I fell in love. I don't have permission to describe it but this is my way of yelling it from a rooftop, this is my way of telling the world how wonderful it is to be in love. The only caveiate is that it's been a rough and tiring love. It's been a love that her friends and family can't understand, and sometimes I can't either. But I stay up late at night wondering, hoping, and praying for ways to make it fit. I can't describe the opportunities I have squandered. There are too many events to demonstrate how we don't fit. We've called ourselves incompatible. We've been told we should move on more times then we've been told we're happy for you. I've been selfish and arrogant enough to be told "I don't know why I keep getting back with you". I've cried tears that fall heavy on journal pages leaving bookmarks of pain. Her name is Stephanie and she freezes me with her eyes, she melts me with her life stories, and ignites my body with hers. But I just didn't have what it took to fit. I just couldn't get it right or correct what I got wrong. This year ends with hope that she might read this and feel inspired to say hello in ways we once were good at and learn together how to never say good bye again. But love is one of those feelings that I will gladly fall for despite the pain when it ends. Our love has shined brightly in brief or scattered moments that struggled through a thickening layer of clouds representing misunderstood love message. I might be the only fool who loves so paradoxically that getting it wrong feels so good too. I'm curiously stubborn to see what our love will look like when we get it right.
Dedicated to Stephanie, the woman who dances around my heart with a mirror.
A candle in a brown paper bag
Surrounded with optimism. This Christmas has been a flash, it sprinkled itself throughout days of winter. There has not been the strong anticipation for Christmas day like I once had when I was a boy. This year I didn't realize it was the most wonderful time of the year, until now. This year, the Christmas season was opened on a beach, saying a long over due good bye to some lingering memories of marriage sentiment, tucked alongside a senior trip encounter with a special woman who became my wife for a little bit. In Cancun for lovely wedding I got to stitch tightly the history between my ex-wife and I, closing the circle symbolically. The Christmas season creeped up on me during a play called a farolito Christmas. It was here where I was warmed up to the importance of tradition. I spent this Christmas not as a preparation for a day but a indulgence of a season. I am optimistic again.
I am faithful with hope. I understand Christmas not so much for a savior's birth but for the importance of the new beginning, being born in humility, born in a manger. Time is the Christmas currency. This Christmas time was on my side. This Christmas I used my time for the people and events that presented themselves to me, versus Christmas past where most my time was spent doing was what I felt I should be doing. This Christmas has been a lesson in sincerity.
I have a small burning candle in my heart that trusts the dim little yellow glow will be enough to guide my thoughts, harness my fears, and sustain my dreams. This year was trying, and it feels like a lonely, cold, dark night perfectly challenging the weak but untiring flame still lit in my soul.
I have a small burning candle in my heart that trusts the dim little yellow glow will be enough to guide my thoughts, harness my fears, and sustain my dreams. This year was trying, and it feels like a lonely, cold, dark night perfectly challenging the weak but untiring flame still lit in my soul.
A flame needs oxygen and my flame has found pockets of oxygen in this Christmas season. The pockets of oxygen are like optimism ignoring the darkness, riding the frigid wind, and circling my flame. The family and friendships encountered have been like the luminaria bag, taming the threats that can putout my flame. My flame of faith is flickering. Each day this Christmas was inspirational, not because it was in anticipation but because I was surprised by what revealed itself in the practice of patience. Patience allowed for oxygen to feed my flame.
"Let my heart become a manger that Christ may find his way and be born again"
Feliz Navidad
Patience...slow down please
My blogging was initiated as a tool to let my daughters understand who their father was, and I find it might be more of who'd I like to believe I am. I tried to be as genuine as I could be. Genuine doesn't always get received. Some folks want honesty but only convenient honesty, fitting honesty, not brutal honesty. I say fuck it, soldiers died, are dying, and will die so that I can express myself, among other dignified rights. When I write I feel arrogant at times, embarrassed others, and mostly human and alive. I am experiencing the same existential dilemma that all mankind and possibly all living beings have trusted, who am I, what am I here to do, how will I be remembered, and where do I belong. I patiently contribute and paradoxically watch my identity being built and altered through my writing.
There will be consequences and misinterpretations because of my expressions, but I owe it to myself to be genuine. As I continue to capture my identity, perceptions, and delusions in my blogging, primarily for my daughters, I have to accept that patience is pouring its lessons on me. I cannot keep up with all the things patience is trying to teach me. I realize each day that being a good man is only as valid as the people I surround myself with perceive me to be. The messages and signals I send do not always share the same meaning to those reading, listening, or observing. I see how my audience plays a significant role in how I am perceived. I am beginning to understand patiently how their experiences, mostly unknown to me, taints, paints, fills in, manipulates, twists, biases, discolors, facilitates, clarifies, stimulates, and enhances my message being sent. Despite the feedback I receive from being me, I feel courageous enough to share myself genuinely.
Now there is a companion quality, that I have ignored, it's graceful, polished, and sexy, I call it class. The sooner I can get a grip on patience the better I can get busy being classy. I think my prayer for the coming year is to share in the fruitfulness of class.
A humble and yet inattentive student of patience,
Ron
Through Him, with Him, and in Him!
There will be consequences and misinterpretations because of my expressions, but I owe it to myself to be genuine. As I continue to capture my identity, perceptions, and delusions in my blogging, primarily for my daughters, I have to accept that patience is pouring its lessons on me. I cannot keep up with all the things patience is trying to teach me. I realize each day that being a good man is only as valid as the people I surround myself with perceive me to be. The messages and signals I send do not always share the same meaning to those reading, listening, or observing. I see how my audience plays a significant role in how I am perceived. I am beginning to understand patiently how their experiences, mostly unknown to me, taints, paints, fills in, manipulates, twists, biases, discolors, facilitates, clarifies, stimulates, and enhances my message being sent. Despite the feedback I receive from being me, I feel courageous enough to share myself genuinely.
Now there is a companion quality, that I have ignored, it's graceful, polished, and sexy, I call it class. The sooner I can get a grip on patience the better I can get busy being classy. I think my prayer for the coming year is to share in the fruitfulness of class.
A humble and yet inattentive student of patience,
Ron
Through Him, with Him, and in Him!
Bon Vayage!
There was a time in my life when I used to think about marriage as an end to freedom. How foolish I once was. What a tarnished perspective on union. I've changed, progressed, and matured. This past weekend I watched a brother take the woman of his dreams into marriage. I was a passenger, figuratively and literally, on the boat ride out of friendship into fusion. I watched the fusion of two souls becoming one. I watched a brother raise his glass in celebration of a long hard road of ups and downs. I watched tears fall because of sadness and joy. Over the years and through the engagement I watch this man cry tears of hurt, smile smiles of pure infatuation, and toss and turn through nights of wonder and hope. I sat on this boat believing in love's ability to answer prayers because I watch the calm in his eyes and the eagerness in hers. Marriage might be an end to freedom but I recognize that it is also paradoxically the beginning of loving servitude, the most beautiful of all contradictions.
Richard just finished making room for a woman. We use to stay up some nights in our adolescents describing the women of our dreams. We would share his twin bed, crammed and sometimes head spinning from a few beers. We would share complaints and wishes about that one, her, yeah that other one, and her too. We would make our lists of who we wanted to be with most. I watched this unfold for real, in one of the most beautiful places in the world, on a boat, the beach, and among family. When you want the best for people you love it looks like a fantasy. I couldn't have painted this experience for my brother, only participate, but the love that pours from his heart is so deserving of the perfect experience her father was able to create for them, and it was a fantasy come true, a fairy tail with an ending that doesn't matter. I watched how to make room for a woman.
Music the way it should be!
Can love be a stripper?
As I get older, swagger doesn't carry the same vibe... or I don't let it. Can love be a stripper? I feel worried about painting this metaphor. There is such stigma behind this vocation. But in my life love has revealed itself in the most rarest of places. I find myself being seen as an odd ball because I look at the "shameful", "regretful", and "avoided" with compassion and interest.
Can love be a stripper? The ultimate hope that most humans strive for is to be loved, adored, admired, and desired. If I disarm my defenses and what I am really saying is I wish to be loved, adored, admired, and desired. Now I can see the foundation for the glamor in eros. I can begin to see how love is recognizable in appeal but possibly exploited and distorted by becoming erotic. I can recognize how seduction becomes a vacuum creating a currency out of attention. I see how love can be seen in the dance of a stripper. There is a perversion to it, but what role does perversion play in love.
Is there a home for perversion in the dignified world. If you describe a woman as sexy does that pervert her dignity? If you don't see a woman as sexy does it make her more dignified? Please be critical of love and look for its shadow! If love has a shadow I would describe it as jealousy. The assessment tool for love's shadow might be described best in following way. If you ask men if they find a stripper attractive, most would say oh yeah, some might say well sure, and some might say yes but in a raunchy way. This describes for me the role dignity has played in life. The first set of men I've tried to represent as that man who is still working out of an adolescent state of dignity. The second set of men represent those men who recognize the importance for dignity. And the third set of men represent those men that have become prisoners of dignity. There are infinite number of responses but this paints a spectrum. Each of the three demonstrating loves shadow.
When a stripper isn't love it might be a sign that your dignity has gotten jealous. When perversion damages the elegance that glamor can create, my dignity has become jealous. When I cannot appreciate the allure that is created by "sexy" and I move to judgment and shame, my dignity has had to share loves attention. Love is a stripper, love can be erotic, love can be admired so deeply by dignity that in jealousy, dignity retrieves the shared attention love has yielded to the Eros.
"Love you spin my head right round, right round!"
Swagger, you have haters, and they are the jealous soldiers of "dignity proper". As for me, a stripper is love. Stripping is love intoxicated, asking to be desired, yet desperately a prisoner to survival through economics. A stripper is love misrepresented and exploited by perversion. Love is a stripper naively hoping there is another way to be seen, sought, and surrendered. I like to think that the gaze just beyond the stigma of perversion has helped me recognize love on the shameful stage of seduction.
Can love be a stripper? The ultimate hope that most humans strive for is to be loved, adored, admired, and desired. If I disarm my defenses and what I am really saying is I wish to be loved, adored, admired, and desired. Now I can see the foundation for the glamor in eros. I can begin to see how love is recognizable in appeal but possibly exploited and distorted by becoming erotic. I can recognize how seduction becomes a vacuum creating a currency out of attention. I see how love can be seen in the dance of a stripper. There is a perversion to it, but what role does perversion play in love.
Is there a home for perversion in the dignified world. If you describe a woman as sexy does that pervert her dignity? If you don't see a woman as sexy does it make her more dignified? Please be critical of love and look for its shadow! If love has a shadow I would describe it as jealousy. The assessment tool for love's shadow might be described best in following way. If you ask men if they find a stripper attractive, most would say oh yeah, some might say well sure, and some might say yes but in a raunchy way. This describes for me the role dignity has played in life. The first set of men I've tried to represent as that man who is still working out of an adolescent state of dignity. The second set of men represent those men who recognize the importance for dignity. And the third set of men represent those men that have become prisoners of dignity. There are infinite number of responses but this paints a spectrum. Each of the three demonstrating loves shadow.
When a stripper isn't love it might be a sign that your dignity has gotten jealous. When perversion damages the elegance that glamor can create, my dignity has become jealous. When I cannot appreciate the allure that is created by "sexy" and I move to judgment and shame, my dignity has had to share loves attention. Love is a stripper, love can be erotic, love can be admired so deeply by dignity that in jealousy, dignity retrieves the shared attention love has yielded to the Eros.
"Love you spin my head right round, right round!"
Swagger, you have haters, and they are the jealous soldiers of "dignity proper". As for me, a stripper is love. Stripping is love intoxicated, asking to be desired, yet desperately a prisoner to survival through economics. A stripper is love misrepresented and exploited by perversion. Love is a stripper naively hoping there is another way to be seen, sought, and surrendered. I like to think that the gaze just beyond the stigma of perversion has helped me recognize love on the shameful stage of seduction.
3rd Eye Vision
I see the matrix. Yeah, foolishly I have swallowed the little green pill, maybe the red one, can't remember. It's likely that it didn't matter, and that either pill would have brought me to this same place. I am referencing the movie plot for the Matrix. What the hell am I referring to and where am I going with this?
Well, I am able to hold paradox. Not all paradox, but I realize I have been able to see beyond the dualism that childhood taught me to rely on. I rarely see circumstances as good or bad. I scarcely see situations as right or wrong. I seldom see details as true or false. I am blessed to be able to know most experiences and possibilities can be looked through for revelations that lie in between polarities.
As a counselor in training, I have learned to seek out what I want from this space between. This in turn reveals my vulnerabilities because what I look for might reveal what I lack. After my divorce I asked God to teach me how to love. I wasn't sure how this prayer would play out. I do believe it is happening. And in my worries about embracing love I have been given a gift of recognizing how others fear love. I think I have a gift for seeing how people guard themselves. I see the matrix. It flows in between love and pain, and interpreting what is to be seen is critical because there are blessings and funk all flowing together. So I can see more clearly the blessings, the underlying wounds, or the sadness. I can find the points of connection.
How I see is like those distorted images that you have to stare at in order allow the perturbing concealed image to surface. It takes time at first, but as you understand how to look they get easier to recognize. What I see depends on how I chose to see it. Remember, blessings and funk flow in the same space between. When I look with anger I’ll find the funk, but as I have learned when I look with grace I am finding the blessings.
Well, I am able to hold paradox. Not all paradox, but I realize I have been able to see beyond the dualism that childhood taught me to rely on. I rarely see circumstances as good or bad. I scarcely see situations as right or wrong. I seldom see details as true or false. I am blessed to be able to know most experiences and possibilities can be looked through for revelations that lie in between polarities.
As a counselor in training, I have learned to seek out what I want from this space between. This in turn reveals my vulnerabilities because what I look for might reveal what I lack. After my divorce I asked God to teach me how to love. I wasn't sure how this prayer would play out. I do believe it is happening. And in my worries about embracing love I have been given a gift of recognizing how others fear love. I think I have a gift for seeing how people guard themselves. I see the matrix. It flows in between love and pain, and interpreting what is to be seen is critical because there are blessings and funk all flowing together. So I can see more clearly the blessings, the underlying wounds, or the sadness. I can find the points of connection.
How I see is like those distorted images that you have to stare at in order allow the perturbing concealed image to surface. It takes time at first, but as you understand how to look they get easier to recognize. What I see depends on how I chose to see it. Remember, blessings and funk flow in the same space between. When I look with anger I’ll find the funk, but as I have learned when I look with grace I am finding the blessings.
When does love happen?
I have learned that many parts of societal expectations can limit how a man can let love happen. A man struggles to love, balancing many paradoxes, making love a challenge. Men are asked to be loving, when does this happen? The qualities of love are in contradiction with the preconceived and engrained systematic hopes that society has for men. Some of these characteristics that seem contradictory to love is toughness, aggression, resistance, power, fearlessness, wealthy, and flawless. Love seems to be restrained by fear and punishment, but moments of brilliance find a way to be expressed.
I've felt like I have loved best when I balance contradicting states. The gravity in this case is the extremity of each characteristic, leading to undermining and teetering. If I am vulnerable I must also remain stable, appearing strong. When I am gentle can there still be aggression? When I am caring I'd like to maintain plenty of toughness. I need to be in touch with my emotions, but I feel like emotions are better processed in a sacred place, out of site. How come toughness is measured by emotional control? When I want to speak softly I feel weak and childish. When I want to be honest I fear using words that will hurt. When I try to love I feel like I can't fail or make mistakes so I wait until the conditions are absolutely right because if I screw up its going to hurt. This is hesitation and hesitation lacks confidence. If I adopt a humble attitude I lose in the power game, and the power game glitters. I'd like to glitter but still remain modest. Love is like acrobatics, biking, or rock climbing its a process of falling, failing, and hurting before it becomes second nature.
The learning curve for love can be steep but it depends on who you are loving. When the company you are loving loves me, balancing is comfortable and falls occur with grace. When loving with those who fear or despise me, balancing becomes a challenge and the falls lead to injury. My love is expressed in moments, but my effort can be measured in tears and apologies. I'm an amateur at best hoping to make heavens Olympic team.
I've felt like I have loved best when I balance contradicting states. The gravity in this case is the extremity of each characteristic, leading to undermining and teetering. If I am vulnerable I must also remain stable, appearing strong. When I am gentle can there still be aggression? When I am caring I'd like to maintain plenty of toughness. I need to be in touch with my emotions, but I feel like emotions are better processed in a sacred place, out of site. How come toughness is measured by emotional control? When I want to speak softly I feel weak and childish. When I want to be honest I fear using words that will hurt. When I try to love I feel like I can't fail or make mistakes so I wait until the conditions are absolutely right because if I screw up its going to hurt. This is hesitation and hesitation lacks confidence. If I adopt a humble attitude I lose in the power game, and the power game glitters. I'd like to glitter but still remain modest. Love is like acrobatics, biking, or rock climbing its a process of falling, failing, and hurting before it becomes second nature.
The learning curve for love can be steep but it depends on who you are loving. When the company you are loving loves me, balancing is comfortable and falls occur with grace. When loving with those who fear or despise me, balancing becomes a challenge and the falls lead to injury. My love is expressed in moments, but my effort can be measured in tears and apologies. I'm an amateur at best hoping to make heavens Olympic team.
It's only a name or is it?
My name is Ron, after my dad, but I'm not a junior because I don't think I was born entirely in love. My middle name is Valerio because my maternal grandparents wanted me to remember the traditions that should be carried on. My father was 18 and my mother was 17, so I was more likely born in the passions of infatuation, with a pinch of shame, hints of lust, likely an accident, but completely in the bonds of whole wheat compassion. I've told my mom I would have forgiven her if she aborted me. Sounds awkward, but I love her that much and would have sacrificed my existence to have given her a better chance at understanding family. We struggled right out of the gate. Some nights I cry knowing I cut short some of my parents dreams. Sometimes I see a young mother alone in a grocery store and recognize the fatigue that shortens tempers and suffocates patience. Despite the difficulty that I was born in, love was given a chance, and it was nurtured often enough to sustain me.
My last name isn't important. It doesn't do much but link me to a list of people who will be a branch on someone's family tree. It aligns me with my father's glory and his families story. It ties me to people past and never met Though it is not important to me I respect it, knowing it will identify me and carry the essence of my actions. It reminds me of my family distanced and branched. Some say, I come from a broken home, and broken isn't a fair term. It assumes that there is a home out there that isn't broken. I am a master piece that comes from the workshop of serendipity. I am a reminder of how serendipity isn't always recognizable. I am the remnants of a blossoming romance who's time was not meant to last forever. I am the artwork of my mother and father who gave me the greatest gift a child can receive, a chance. Thank you Ron Estrada and Francesca Garcia, I am making the most with the tools, attitudes, and time you've shared with me.
Thank you!
Dear Ron,
Thank you! I know we have been rough on each other over the last 37 years. I know we've put each other in some binds. I know we've struggled to be our best at every turn for everyone. I know we haven't met all expectations, ours nor theirs. At times, its tough seeing how we are being selfish and we've made it difficult for others because of it, and we're a work in progress. I know I've let you down. I know you still haven't forgiven a lot of what we've done together. I know it is our pattern to swim in scarcity and overlook our blessings. I can remember times you have looked in the mirror and been disappointed in me, I still remember those words you called me, and how at times you wish you looked different. I know I stress us out. I recognize how you've worked hard to straighten us out, blaming us along the way. I know we've been stubborn and going easy on ourselves has been rare. We often seem to do our learning the hard way, the long way, or the wrong way. I know our choice of words can be ridiculous and unwelcome. I know we'll have more rough phases ahead.
But Ron, for today thank you. Today is thanksgiving, and I happy to be apart of us. I'm grateful to have spent so many ours in your head understanding how loving you would like to be. I am pleased with how well you have cared for our body, mind, and spirit. I value how confident you have become and trusting of others this has allowed you to be. I like how hard you work to be a caring friend. I still think your creativity expresses us best. I thank you for the people you have surrounded us with, I enjoy how they accept us for our talents and our flaws. Despite how sometimes you drain us and and push us to edge , I admire how persistent and enduring you help us be. I appreciate how you continue to forgive and when you can't you don't stop trying. Most of all, thank you for learning to love, it has helped us to treat you with the Devine dignity that we all deserve, and be compassionate when we fail.
Thank you! I know we have been rough on each other over the last 37 years. I know we've put each other in some binds. I know we've struggled to be our best at every turn for everyone. I know we haven't met all expectations, ours nor theirs. At times, its tough seeing how we are being selfish and we've made it difficult for others because of it, and we're a work in progress. I know I've let you down. I know you still haven't forgiven a lot of what we've done together. I know it is our pattern to swim in scarcity and overlook our blessings. I can remember times you have looked in the mirror and been disappointed in me, I still remember those words you called me, and how at times you wish you looked different. I know I stress us out. I recognize how you've worked hard to straighten us out, blaming us along the way. I know we've been stubborn and going easy on ourselves has been rare. We often seem to do our learning the hard way, the long way, or the wrong way. I know our choice of words can be ridiculous and unwelcome. I know we'll have more rough phases ahead.
Random hearts
After a glass was lifted and the condensation from a long standing glass had dripped off, I noticed this heart shaped ring. A heart shape has too many meanings to mention, and I am too lazy to enter into mine to write something cleaver and inspiring. I am just flattered by the heart taking shape in the void rather than the space filled with substance. Maybe looking into the void for meaning is as significant as seeing it in the forefront. Happy thanksgiving, wishing you and yours a safe and comforting week of thanks.
The Sun
Team Dream
Thank you Razoo for providing a valuable donation and fundraising online service.
We are gathering donations for Common Hope in Guatemala as part of a service trip next August 2013. Your donation will target education, health care, and housing concerns of Guatemalans. We are committed to raising $4,000 in order to earn the opportunity to visit and work at the Common Hope facility. I am part of a Vision Team trying to make it to Antigua. So please make a donation, and sponsor my efforts to work in Guatemala.
We are gathering donations for Common Hope in Guatemala as part of a service trip next August 2013. Your donation will target education, health care, and housing concerns of Guatemalans. We are committed to raising $4,000 in order to earn the opportunity to visit and work at the Common Hope facility. I am part of a Vision Team trying to make it to Antigua. So please make a donation, and sponsor my efforts to work in Guatemala.
The Vocab
Vocabulary and semantics have a role in my culture, understanding, and perspectives. I'm moved by the complexity that it brings. The words we learn often carry more than a definition. They carry biased and loaded histories. The phrases we learn to build often express these biased experiences. I find myself believing that there are multiple interpretations of similar experiences. I share in so many experiences that i find myself relying on generalizations. What does this do to the importance of semantic and the demand for impressions? It disables my ability to see the uniqueness in most experiences. Some biologists might theorize the purpose of generalizing, and i am not interested in its importance or explanation but rather its dominance. When we communicate with generalization that leads to assumption, we miss the need, we miss the richness of the subtleties of the message. Vocabulary and meaning are manipulating my communities ways of sharing understanding and perspectives, in the end altering my culture.
It may be that my vocabulary is an implementation of an American lingual framework, but my experiences inject life into words giving them energy. The shared energy sustains a culture. For simplicity's sake, culture means, shared beliefs, truths and tradition. Learning is the integrative process I consider responsible for preparing my understanding. My communities are vessels that help me express myself and provide a platform for culture. When I choose to speak, I have to choose words and phrases that will make sense and broker a message that has value. This message is a perspective. I like how the non violent community describes this message as a need. I create an economy of messages. Needs provide a demand, cultures provide a surplus of perspectives, and communities establish a market.
It may be that my vocabulary is an implementation of an American lingual framework, but my experiences inject life into words giving them energy. The shared energy sustains a culture. For simplicity's sake, culture means, shared beliefs, truths and tradition. Learning is the integrative process I consider responsible for preparing my understanding. My communities are vessels that help me express myself and provide a platform for culture. When I choose to speak, I have to choose words and phrases that will make sense and broker a message that has value. This message is a perspective. I like how the non violent community describes this message as a need. I create an economy of messages. Needs provide a demand, cultures provide a surplus of perspectives, and communities establish a market.
Murph...a WOD, a Hero, and a Man
View more videos at: http://nbcnewyork.com.
The WOD
"Murph"
For time:
1 mile Run
100 Pull-ups
200 Push-ups
300 Squats
When I do this WOD I lose feeling in most parts of my body. Lactic acid builds up to the point where I forget its burn. I have never looked forward to resting during a mile run. It makes breathing a luxury and soreness a reminder for me to never believe I am dead until I am dead. I love this shit.
The Hero In a firefight, with close to a hundred Afghan fighters ambushing his SEAL team of 4, Micheal Murphy could not get a satellite connection to call in support. The most significant piece of his story is his confidence in compassion. The Taliban fighter's who ambushed and pinned his team down were tipped off by goat herders. These herders had discovered Lt. Murphy's team earlier in the day. It was Lt. Murphy's compassion and that of his team that allowed those herders to live, after a vote on whether the herders discovery of his team should result in their death. He was a vote for their release. Those herders notified the Taliban fighters of their presence and location, resulting in the hunting down of all but one Navy SEAL. During the fire fight Lt Murphy put himself in the direct line of fire because it was the only location he could call in for support. He was shot several times but continued to try and communicate over a sat phone. For a better write up click here.
The Man
The book Lone Survivor describes Lt Micheal Murphy as a top notch athlete. He is described as having a never quit attitude. He was an excellent student. He was a warrior. He is an inspiration. He is my hero. A humble scrapper who looked for the good in people, even when there was no reason to.
Hiatus
Taking a break...
Sending you all off with this creative talk.
I am not going to lie to you, but the trust needed to believe is gone. I am not much different of a man than I was yesterday, last week, or last month. I'm a different boy though. I'm inspired because I came across some lingering love you left behind. Inspired for what is still to be seen. Non the less inspired.
I'm not wanting to make sense. I write in paradox because I like to think its the language of love... Double Messages...not so much to deceive but mystify. We can't hear anyway because there is too much noise coming from our attitudes. I have found my beautiful enemy. Not the enemy we as man more commonly despise, but the lover that agitates me and likes to put gum in my hair. I have found my enemy to love.
I have found my dark forest. I have found that area, region, and place where everyone else turns back. I have found the entrance to the forest that makes men disappear. I reached the darkest and most dreadful decision that an adventurer must make do I enter, do I go on?
It is here. I must learn how to love intently. Can I learn to love completely without encountering the depths? Must I make love a difficult task? It is in the murky waters where I have been afraid to look, much less dare to enter. I have a bucket to empty these waters but symbolically I have to dig that out too. It has often been very easy to walk away from this fork in the path. We'll see!
One direction will take me into the messy unearthing of more of my soul The other will continue to delight me with the most superficial of pleasures. I know which one I fear, and I know which one I am addicted to...it is the one I choose. I know regardless God is rooting for me. Fear can be a guide...and for now I fear the greatness that can be created by love.
by Ron Estrada
Fearing Love?
I'm not wanting to make sense. I write in paradox because I like to think its the language of love... Double Messages...not so much to deceive but mystify. We can't hear anyway because there is too much noise coming from our attitudes. I have found my beautiful enemy. Not the enemy we as man more commonly despise, but the lover that agitates me and likes to put gum in my hair. I have found my enemy to love.
I have found my dark forest. I have found that area, region, and place where everyone else turns back. I have found the entrance to the forest that makes men disappear. I reached the darkest and most dreadful decision that an adventurer must make do I enter, do I go on?
It is here. I must learn how to love intently. Can I learn to love completely without encountering the depths? Must I make love a difficult task? It is in the murky waters where I have been afraid to look, much less dare to enter. I have a bucket to empty these waters but symbolically I have to dig that out too. It has often been very easy to walk away from this fork in the path. We'll see!
One direction will take me into the messy unearthing of more of my soul The other will continue to delight me with the most superficial of pleasures. I know which one I fear, and I know which one I am addicted to...it is the one I choose. I know regardless God is rooting for me. Fear can be a guide...and for now I fear the greatness that can be created by love.
by Ron Estrada
Act of forgiveness
I would never have been able to think of both my parents in the same
sentence using the word forgiving. But as life continues to grant me time, I now can. When I
went through my divorce I accepted how much more responsible I felt for the deterioration of my marriage. It gave me the courage and
context to look critically on my parents relationship during my
childhood. What I found was so many misunderstandings and
misinterpretations that left me having to chose sides, defending, and feeling caught in
between. I knew I couldn't let this be recreated for my daughters.
So I confronted the scariest of unknowns, the details of my fathers
reasons, the worries of a young mother, and my own unwanted memories.
Forgiveness and confronting seem to go hand in hand. I have described
forgiveness synthesis and with it comes the encountering of the wound.
What
answers I found were sacred understandings of who my
parents were. I was able to see myself in their sadness, because I was
in my own divorce, I was dividing my own family. I could not hold onto
the discomfort, created by years of avoiding my pain, any longer. I saw my dad as a young arrogant but eager
boy trying to live in a world of accolades while being asked to humble himself in order to be a father. He only had training in one area... basketball. He never spent endless hours practicing how
to be a top notch husband or father. My mother was a young naive girl seeming to
be dazzled by attention. She was caring, selfless, and exhausted by the
realities that come with being a mother responsible for holding together
an adolescent family. This is what I can share, there is a depth that i cannot share but it is a hard look into the suffering of two people torn apart by immaturity, mishandled love, and the fatigue of disregard.
How does this fit
with forgiveness. I have moved past the need to understand my
parents. I have gradually accepted how they treated each other. My
expectations are no longer sticky. My hope for happy reunions no
longer were a distraction. My fears for witnessing resentment and animosity have become dull. And to be clear it wasn't the expectations of them to "get back together" but for the simple experience of having two
parents who could value time shared and the creation they made. That
is hard to say and it makes me cry happy tears. I accepted their pain
for the obstacle it was.
This is leads me to
yesterday. My mom and dad shared a happy moment. For the first time I
watched as they both shared a smile and joked. I watched as they both were
genuinely delighted. There was no agenda, nothing to be gained for
being pleasant, just a sunny day and a giggle that brought two people
who once loved each other deeply enough to hate, into a joyful instance.
A simple 2 minutes of nervous excitement helped me forget a lifetime of
endured resentment and tension. Forgiveness had broken through. Un
Milagro!
Perception, Appear, and Perceive
The more I think about human connection, a diagram is surfacing. A trinity of awareness. I have a Self-Perception. I give a Self-Appearance. Then there is an Other-Perception. This is who I am. Self-perception is the critical and loving understanding I have of my history, present, and hopes with my feelings, emotions, and thoughts. My self-appearance is the person I'd like the world to see me as. It is my behavior, actions and expressions. Other-perception is how the world interprets me. It gives me feedback completing a connection loop that leads to union or division. All three pieces are alive.
There is one last synthetic piece, and it is Other-Appearance. This is how I can picture when others interpret and describe how they would like the world to see me. This is not alive or who I am. It is a complicated translation of encounters with my trinity described above.
There is one last synthetic piece, and it is Other-Appearance. This is how I can picture when others interpret and describe how they would like the world to see me. This is not alive or who I am. It is a complicated translation of encounters with my trinity described above.
Longing
There is a longing, a void to be acknowledged, attended too, and loved. It is human nature and likely a living quality to be recognized. In my experience it is the need to be desired, appreciated, and understood. Likewise there is a more difficult yet important piece to the formula. In order to be accepted I need to learn to accept. The concept of reciprocity is a nutrient to the growth of connections between two people. This is the basis for a friendship. Acceptance is a quality of understanding and receiving. Acceptance brings to mind the key principle to most faith based systems, lack of judgment. This is an area where I can strengthen. I feel like in my attention to be understood, attended too, and loved, I, more frequently than I'd like to, lose focus on others. My prayer is to keep in balance and health my ability to love and be loved.
As soon as I move to objectify my need to be desired, I begin to measure it. As soon as I compare how much attention I have with how much I want or need, I have lost sight of my ability to satisfy other's needs. Satisfying the needs of friends and myself is a difficult dance. It is unfair to believe that I can understand a friend's needs fully. It is impossible for me to keep constant attention to other's needs. It is unfair to ignore a friend's signals and cues for longing. It is unfair to become frustrated with being unable to satisfy a friend's needs. It is fair to believe that sadness, fear, and confusion can distort how signals and cues communicate that we want to be loved. This reciprocity dance is easier to learn when listening to music from the heart, and extremely difficult when being distracted by noise from the mind. I hope we slow down our lives enough to learn these dance steps at an effective tempo.
Dedicated to William Poehner, An active duty warrior of light living in radical grace. I Love you, I love what you do, you are an amazing source of intellect, strength, and compassion.
As soon as I move to objectify my need to be desired, I begin to measure it. As soon as I compare how much attention I have with how much I want or need, I have lost sight of my ability to satisfy other's needs. Satisfying the needs of friends and myself is a difficult dance. It is unfair to believe that I can understand a friend's needs fully. It is impossible for me to keep constant attention to other's needs. It is unfair to ignore a friend's signals and cues for longing. It is unfair to become frustrated with being unable to satisfy a friend's needs. It is fair to believe that sadness, fear, and confusion can distort how signals and cues communicate that we want to be loved. This reciprocity dance is easier to learn when listening to music from the heart, and extremely difficult when being distracted by noise from the mind. I hope we slow down our lives enough to learn these dance steps at an effective tempo.
Dedicated to William Poehner, An active duty warrior of light living in radical grace. I Love you, I love what you do, you are an amazing source of intellect, strength, and compassion.
Seeing Potential when the self can't
I love crossfit for its ability to help me believe in miracles. Miracles are those events that happen when most no longer believe they could. Miracles are the moments that defy doubt. It might be as simple as learning to stand on my hands. It could be as complex as stringing 5 ring muscle ups together, or more importantly calming my pride, ego, and rascal. I compete with myself, and crossfit has helped me compete in ways I never thought possible, you might say a miracle. The hater in me succumbs to comradery. I love the philosophy that you win for participating. You are one small step better with each healthy thought. You are that much more able with each attempt. You are that much more prepared with each success. Before you know it, you have a collection of milestones to build a foundation of wellness. I no longer lose when I compete with crossfit...not to say I always come in first...but I am balancing. Every failure means I was living, attempting, and creating space for accomplishing. My dream is to give the gift of efficacy to as many people as possible. Hearing someone believe in themselves is good music. I have been a cynical person and crossfit has smoothed those edges. The cynic is not dead, but respected and for now calm.
3...2...1...
Self perception can paralyze potential
3...2...1...
Self perception can paralyze potential
Dear Arrogance,
I'm writing to let you know I don't hate you. I know you don't care what I think. I understand you function in realm beyond emotion or reason. I still need you to know that I see you. You are not a healthy quality, but there is a sparkle to you. You have a bad smell, but when I look in your eyes I recognize your sadness. You are slippery, but I don't want to trap you. I thank you for being born, despite realizing you were born of loneliness, abuse, and neglect. You are not a beautiful site to see, but you have a charm and it's cleaver in small doses. Your humor is bad, but a smile in bad taste is still a smile. You have put us in some bad situations, and I am sorry for putting you in charge when all you wanted was to inform me of how things are down in the depths. We are a team, and I love you. We'll make it a little further and I'd like you take a good rest. Humility has asked to be your roommate, please take it into consideration. Oh yeah, you can let your hair grow, be natural, take your tie off, there is no dress code here. I'll be checking in on you, not out of mistrust but to make sure you are comfortable with the changes going on around here. I need you to be you, nothing more nothing less, because when you contribute in healthy ways we are a champion. Oh yeah, you'll be doing some housework with Confidence. She'd like to get to know you. So I hope you take this well and these words express my respect for you. Take care and see you around.
Regards,
Ron
Regards,
Ron
Thank you arrogance
It feels odd sharing myself in such a vulnerable way, but today I feel simple. There are heavy feelings of embarrassment and broken boundaries, but mostly I feel forgiving and genuine. Maybe a little like that Jerry Maguire moment where genuine expression doesn't bloom immediately but when it does... I think I have expectations of myself that can be rigid. I am only a man. I know that my arrogance is scorned by me and most social norms, but it has helped me survive. Knowing it has contributed to what makes me who I am, allows me to forgive it, embrace it, and thank it. With each tribulation it comes to my rescue and I am gradually getting better at greeting it and redistributing its energy into productive thoughts and behaviors. Spending this time thinking about how I can be arrogant and poetically applying metaphors to it, has helped me reach a forgiveness point. I think as I grow and encounter new people, places, situations, and phases I will recognize the messages that my arrogance can be sending. I may be overwhelmed enough to let my arrogance run wild, but I like to think that as I age I will encounter more humbling circumstances than antagonistic ones. In my shadows lives an arrogant set of tools that at one time in my life kept me alive and functioning. When I am stressed and restless I can fall back on arrogance as a coping strategy for feeling valued. Despite me forgiving me, I long to be forgiven for mistakes made while using these arrogant tools.
Arrogance puts up blinders
I've described my arrogance as an alert system, a shield, but worst of all it is a blindfold. It is a blindfold for my eyes, heart, and mind. It causes me to bump into obstacles, overlooking subtleties, and confuses images with bias. It influences my ability to recognize others putting their hands out to either guide me, hold me, or distract me. I lose my keen ability to distinguish the finer actions, emotions, or thoughts that cultivate love. It blinds my heart from accepting the subtle love signals. It blinds my heart from knowing where to send my own love signals. It blinds my mind from gathering the correct information for making healthy decisions by blocking out the spirit of ideas. The spirit is the capsule for intention. It distorts my understanding of who I am and how I interpret who you are. It is a shadow quality, born in adolescence and lingering now in adulthood.
The Arrogance shield
Arrogance has not only been an alerting system for my extreme self concept, it has been a safeguard against vulnerability. It keeps me from being seen as incompetent, weak, sad, scared, lonely, wounded, inadequate, offended, embarrassing, and poor. I realize I am all of these in some form. Being perceived as one of these is enough to activate arrogance, creating a shield to conceal my vulnerability. This fear of being seen for who I am is enough to short circuit my genuineness and compassion. My heart is a source of thoughts, not physiologically but metaphorically. My heart holds my most genuine expressions. When my arrogance is alive and functioning it not only protects me from being seen as lessor, but also blocks my hearts expressions. There is a quality to vulnerability that I must investigate further to trust that negative perceptions and interpretations, both external and internal, are not worth deteriorating my dignity with arrogance.
What's the purpose of arrogance?
I think as my lifestyle has changed, so has my attitude. I still have the quality of arrogance, but its lurking in a new set of beliefs. I realize now that despite my introspection and self work, arrogance will and has survived. It may not be as obvious now that I have been improving as a person. I think wherever confidence can thrive I'll find arrogance waiting for the perfect prideful conditions. What are these perfect conditions?
One thing comes to mind is lack of fear. I think the disregard for consequence takes root in success. And in these conditions of fearlessness, humility is gradually forgotten. Risks do not seem as daunting, emotional profits seem endless, and thoughts are undignified. This is how carelessness and thoughtlessness can create opportunities for breakdown. Arrogance is an alerting system. It is the quality and characteristic that must warn me of mindlessness.
How can I detect arrogance? What will remedy an exaggerated self concept?
One thing comes to mind is lack of fear. I think the disregard for consequence takes root in success. And in these conditions of fearlessness, humility is gradually forgotten. Risks do not seem as daunting, emotional profits seem endless, and thoughts are undignified. This is how carelessness and thoughtlessness can create opportunities for breakdown. Arrogance is an alerting system. It is the quality and characteristic that must warn me of mindlessness.
How can I detect arrogance? What will remedy an exaggerated self concept?
The greatest sin might be...
Refusing to be loved. It has been easy to look for love, speak of love and write about it. The most difficult aspect to love might be receiving it. I spent a lot of time on this blog idealizing about loving, but recently I have found that its just as important to receive love. It might even be the greatest sin to reject it, disregard it, and take it for granted. I have found that in all my work to learn to love I have ignored the importance of accepting, appreciating, and recognizing being loved. In my love experiences I have been conceited. I have been arrogant. I have been foolish. And I have been careless with the gift of love given to me. Thinking more about my shortcomings, it is hard recognizing that I can be such an advocate for love, but hypocritically deny it in many ways. The hot steaming pile of empathy, has helped me see that reciprocity is critical to love to. Love needs love to be sustainable. I am a man who does not hold love in a symmetrical way.
To those who have tried their hardest to love me, despite this offering being too late, too little and possibly never received, I thank you. Needing to be forgiven and potentially never receiving it, might be the best empathy. Please forgive me for all the ways in which tenderness, opinion, ideas, offerings, time, emotions, and requests can be rejected. To speak of love and not be experienced in it is foolish of me. Not all curanderos workbenches would allow for such stupidity, I hope this one does.
Empathy...the currency of heaven
Life has taken an sad turn of events. Events that have me doubting and mistrusting myself and others. Life has unfolded a new perspective on being perceived. This is both tragic and opportunistic. I am being routed into uncharted experiences. Consequently I have fallen into empathy. A good hot steaming pile of empathy. It has helped me believe that the currency of heaven is empathy. Until I can fully be an empathetic witness to other's experiences, I cannot achieve understanding. If I cannot reach understanding then there will be no room for compassion. And compassion is my proverbial "Hillary Step" to empathy.
There are two areas of misunderstanding that have become excitedly clearer for me. The first is the quality and insecurity of not being desired. I occasionally reminisce and ponder how I could have been a better husband. I remember the importance of being wanted and needed and how that distorted my perceptions of closeness. It also motivated my actions. This has me wondering. I currently and often question my potential to be a good husband. I can be a selfish and independent person, some might say to mine and others detriment. I see how balance is necessary. Closeness, Can I maintain it? There are times when I feel capable, there are times when I mistrust myself, and there are times when I think it might be best to never try. I have come to a conclusion.
My conclusion is that what I chose to believe is an orientation. If I believe that I am gonna struggle then that is the direction I am going to take. If I believe that not trying is the safest, then life might be isolated. Once I have an orientation then I must muster up some motivation. My needs are my motivation. I have struggled to find my genuine needs. I often get distracted from what I need by what I perceive others wanting. I am learning to be a better judge of my genuine needs, but coming from a collective culture I have a tendency to compromise my needs despite my clarity. My will and intentions are the energy I use to take each step. Each step represents an action, behavior, or thought. As I progress on towards my destination I'll fail, stumble, hustle, rest, and even re-orientate. Failures in my past have been seen as obstacles. Now with age I have grown my patience and experience. I know that they are indicators of risk and preparedness. The health of my choices are an important quality to choosing each step. Where I end up is the exciting unknown. I know I can be a healthy husband, I am not foolish to think that I won't make mistakes, and I am fairly certain that I don't want a lifetime of solitude.
The second area of misunderstanding is the value in being perceived and interpreted. This is still revealing itself to me.
Dedicated to a brother, friend, and motivator....I love you Brad Fagan...An active duty Husband.
There are two areas of misunderstanding that have become excitedly clearer for me. The first is the quality and insecurity of not being desired. I occasionally reminisce and ponder how I could have been a better husband. I remember the importance of being wanted and needed and how that distorted my perceptions of closeness. It also motivated my actions. This has me wondering. I currently and often question my potential to be a good husband. I can be a selfish and independent person, some might say to mine and others detriment. I see how balance is necessary. Closeness, Can I maintain it? There are times when I feel capable, there are times when I mistrust myself, and there are times when I think it might be best to never try. I have come to a conclusion.
My conclusion is that what I chose to believe is an orientation. If I believe that I am gonna struggle then that is the direction I am going to take. If I believe that not trying is the safest, then life might be isolated. Once I have an orientation then I must muster up some motivation. My needs are my motivation. I have struggled to find my genuine needs. I often get distracted from what I need by what I perceive others wanting. I am learning to be a better judge of my genuine needs, but coming from a collective culture I have a tendency to compromise my needs despite my clarity. My will and intentions are the energy I use to take each step. Each step represents an action, behavior, or thought. As I progress on towards my destination I'll fail, stumble, hustle, rest, and even re-orientate. Failures in my past have been seen as obstacles. Now with age I have grown my patience and experience. I know that they are indicators of risk and preparedness. The health of my choices are an important quality to choosing each step. Where I end up is the exciting unknown. I know I can be a healthy husband, I am not foolish to think that I won't make mistakes, and I am fairly certain that I don't want a lifetime of solitude.
The second area of misunderstanding is the value in being perceived and interpreted. This is still revealing itself to me.
Dedicated to a brother, friend, and motivator....I love you Brad Fagan...An active duty Husband.
Courage
Social Grace
It is my dream to vindicate my mother and father of their shortcomings, by embracing the wounds they have given me. It is in these wounds that I can investigate the criminality, motive, and irrationality of their behaviors, actions, and words. I can then build an image of what is not there. The void will be the workbench for what is longed for, my creativity, and forgiveness. It is incomplete to only remind myself of my parents greatness, because their greatness is the part of my expression that will perpetuate consciously, their injustices will perpetuate unconsciously, if left unattended. Life is a creative experience...or not.
Learn for balance not success
Lets make Education a framework for culture...not success. We learn long before we are educated and when we are educated we slowly also begin to unlearn. If schools are about success then where do we learn about failure.
Watch Middle School Moment on PBS. See more from FRONTLINE.
Jealousy
When I stop being excited for those I love, I have found my shadow. When I compare myself to others, I have fallen into sadness. It is here that I can befriend my shadow. It is here where my shadow shines. It is in jealousy and comparison where my shadow is willing to be vulnerable.
Principled Violence
I'd like to recognize how the little bit that I know about Mandela has demonstrated a good picture of what it is to be violent and yet in balance. It makes little sense to see the violence in destroy hate. It is beautiful and sad for hate. Mandela seems to have a healthy compassion for hate, a respect that gives paradox to the concept of having love for hate. It may be that balanced violence is not to overcome but to untangle misconception.
Tradition
I can't express how happy I am to have two daughters so connected to the concept of service. I am a difficult man to be around at times. In keeping with the Shadow theme, I carry a viscous critic around in my head. My daughters get the brunt of it. This summer they have quieted that critic. They have nuzzled up against it and possibly tamed it. I can't express how grateful I am to be blessed with such loving daughters. I want my girls to be intelligent, independent, confident, and loving. I am hard on them, only because I am afraid of what the world might do if I don't lay down a good set of habits. I want to instill in them a Chicano culture based on tradition, sustainability, respect for elders, and honor for life. How can I do that other than demonstrate some example of it. And now I watch as they set the example for me. So young yet so calm, organized, responsible, and aware.
My daughter Elena has represented herself with grace, elegance, sophistication, and fuerza. This is my daughter Elena in the video. She is a princess, a Burquena. My daughter Veronica is just as spectacular. She was not videoed or interviewed but she was there and involved.
A special thank you must go out to a woman I love dearly. Stephanie Heikkinen forwarded me the invite to this program with a message I think Elena and Veronica would like this.
They both wanted to relax all summer and pouted about having to participate. By the first day they were hooked, often bringing there projects home and into our back yard. The volunteers and program leaders are special people making special impacts on local youth. When you look for blessing they reveal themselves. When you look for joy it hides. When you become joyful joy pours itself onto you. There will be fall and then winter, but right now I am enjoying the summer of my daughter's lives.
Catalina Sanchez their mother is another woman I love deeply. She supported the decision to try this program out. I think she provided the girls with the spirit of kindness. I am a happy dad.
My daughter Elena has represented herself with grace, elegance, sophistication, and fuerza. This is my daughter Elena in the video. She is a princess, a Burquena. My daughter Veronica is just as spectacular. She was not videoed or interviewed but she was there and involved.
A special thank you must go out to a woman I love dearly. Stephanie Heikkinen forwarded me the invite to this program with a message I think Elena and Veronica would like this.
They both wanted to relax all summer and pouted about having to participate. By the first day they were hooked, often bringing there projects home and into our back yard. The volunteers and program leaders are special people making special impacts on local youth. When you look for blessing they reveal themselves. When you look for joy it hides. When you become joyful joy pours itself onto you. There will be fall and then winter, but right now I am enjoying the summer of my daughter's lives.
Catalina Sanchez their mother is another woman I love deeply. She supported the decision to try this program out. I think she provided the girls with the spirit of kindness. I am a happy dad.
The Shadow
Carl Jung, who is one of my favorite mystics, has helped me understand the psyche's shadow. I've recently reminded myself how important it is to acknowledge, embrace, and forgive that part of me. Some describe it as the part of us that helps us survive. It is the part of us that is often suppressed, oppressed, and devalued. This forum may be too public to share my shadow, but it is not too public to describe how I encounter it.
My shadow has many qualities. It is my vulgar side. It is tenacious. It is stubborn. It is enduring. It is radically shameful. I see it at times as embarrassing. Mostly I can see my Shadow when I ponder about things I've done, want to do, or am doing. What follows is usually, "what did, do, and will people think of me". It is the social awareness that has caused me to suppress behaviors, thoughts, and feelings that through life have had the wildness beaten out or have had thier wings clipped.
My shadow is also a part of me that can be great. My shadow can help me be magnificent. I am working on seeing beyond the shameful and stinky stereotype I have assigned to my shadow. I am trying to understand it. I am trying to work with it. Can those parts of me that have remained in the shadows now be understood enough to involve them in ways that contribute to a healthier Ron? Fuck Yeah!
My shadow has many qualities. It is my vulgar side. It is tenacious. It is stubborn. It is enduring. It is radically shameful. I see it at times as embarrassing. Mostly I can see my Shadow when I ponder about things I've done, want to do, or am doing. What follows is usually, "what did, do, and will people think of me". It is the social awareness that has caused me to suppress behaviors, thoughts, and feelings that through life have had the wildness beaten out or have had thier wings clipped.My shadow is also a part of me that can be great. My shadow can help me be magnificent. I am working on seeing beyond the shameful and stinky stereotype I have assigned to my shadow. I am trying to understand it. I am trying to work with it. Can those parts of me that have remained in the shadows now be understood enough to involve them in ways that contribute to a healthier Ron? Fuck Yeah!
Torn but not ragged
Happy Fourth of July all, Right now I am with two impressive people on our way to climb a 14er. I am writing this on Tuesday the 3rd.We ask for God to Bless America. God blesses all countries but my wish is that we start looking for God's Blessings more than we ask for God's blessings. I think they are always present.
I am tuned into a term used by my grandmother. Constitution; the physical character of the body as to strength, health, etc. I am grateful for the privilege I have that allows me to develop and cultivate my constitution. This country allows for human creativity. This country gives anyone a fighting chance. This country does not provide equality, but it does not prohibit it. I love this country, because it allows the beauty of humanity to shine and it moderates the evil that people can reveal. I love this country because it allows each of us the opportunity to determine for ourselves what is beautiful, evil, or both. We are a grouping of humans that is softening the ridged experiences of life. I am proud to be part of an American country. I am grateful to the lineage of people who have developed, destroyed, and preserved the ability for us to create. Like other and every country this country is great and I am proud of our struggle and progress. May God Bless America. May God Forgive America. Thank you America for Blessing me.
Voices...all voices
Having two daughter's, losing a wife, and becoming aware of male privilege has altered my appreciation, or lack of appreciation for the woman's contribution. Most men would be quick to honor their mother. Most husbands would be quick to appreciate the relationship they have with their wife. I think the admiration slows down from here. I am becoming aware of an obvious yet accepted prejudice towards woman. I am slowly becoming aware of how I have and still contribute to it. Altering my perceptions, attitudes, and behaviors is difficult. Enjoy the critical perspective that helps reveal our(masculine) imperfections.
Fatherhood
A special responsibility I have is being a father. It has forced me to encounter the father I wanted. It has forced me to value the fathers I have. It has forced me to forgive the fathers that failed me. It is asking me to love not only my daughters but the little boy still living inside.
I wrote this while in the midst of my divorce. I was in a dark space, a sacred space. A space where I began the process of becoming a man, and along with it the task of being the best father I can. Happy Fathers Day.
A Boy's Death
“I hate my Dad” as tears fall from my eyes.
The love a boy has for his father likely hides behind these words.
“I'm embarrassed of you”.
Again words cover the love a boy has for a lover.
Such a charming facade I can hold, but sadness teaches me to be cold.
A boy doesn't trust the miscues or life's love tools.
Mom tucked those skills deep within, maybe so her boy will never go.
What puts him on the quest for “It”?
A call, a lashing, a prayer, a fall?
More like loosing it all!
A boy’s love is lured to the conscience for a soft kiss.
A boy’s love is stretched thin by lies, praise, and the gaze.
I will stack my trophies for all to see. "It" says you can't impress me.
Each step towards success is distance I put between “It”.
A race well run but for what?
I've won the race of contradiction.
To the bottom when I was told it was the top.
In my search for love I lost it all. I was anxiously greeted by death.
I feel discomfort and pain.
Mommy can’t help, but its similar to pain she once felt. Birth!
Into the belly but not hers!
Alone on the dark journey using nothing but my broken and misguiding compass,
calibrated by my emotions and fear.
With a whisper to guide me , I start anxiously by running.
It is cold and dark; hot and stuffy; My sweat burns and blisters burst.
Fatigue sets in and weakens me, forcing me to sit.
The whisper calls “It is here”.
Stillness and fright are a result of my fight!
With the little arrogance I had left I ask “Who are you"?
“I am” the whisper replies.
Knowing my time had come I resisted and foolishly cried out “I…AM….NOT….READY”.
“You are not, but I am”.
“I don’t belong” I reply with pity.
“You have always been” is softly sung.
A blow to my groin, I see my blood.
Death’s grip tightens around my ego with each slow and syrupy drop.
Lying in agony and pain without dignity I ask “what did I do wrong”?
Joyfully the whisper sings “enough for me to find you”.
It’s in the transformation of a boy to a man where death's beauty can be experienced.
Transformed for a moment he has been shown what love is. It is like cool refreshing water on a thirsty man's lips.
Love is painful, endures all, is kind and gentle, is the truth, is without deceit, is forgiving, and is a gift from God to a boy.
When the boy takes that gift and gives it away to all, he can call himself a “MAN”.
Hasta La Victoria Siempre
Che is not admired by all, and his beliefs might be difficult to endure. I think it is those that have the most to lose materially that tend to drive these thoughts. The perspective of the privileged has grief too. Che recognized imbalance, enough to create hate. He murdered and ordered thousands of people dead. Can these hate crimes be ratified, not likely. Was it sport? This might be seen as recreation and some might see it as a consequence of exploitation. When you bully a dignified person, you will get punched back, despite winning the fight. For many years the profits and capital gains American Corporations raised though business deals and projects led to the disenfranchising of many cultures. This resulted in poverty. During the Cuban revolution many who fled in hate of Che were the privileged, many who were killed were pawns of the privileged, and those who continue to resist are the privileged.
These folks are unwilling to lose their luxury. It is time to apologize with action and reconciliation. What we as a nation are willing to give are words and donations. I think the suffering and death of luxury is painful. Luxury is a human quality, that distracts me from my existential responsibility. This round of felicidades are to forgive the dark side of the man "Che". He was a killer, he took on the viscous face of anger and revenge. He believed in something not only to die for, but unfortunately to kill for. I have to say that when I visited Guatemala it was easy to see who would welcome equality and who would resist having to be equal.
These folks are unwilling to lose their luxury. It is time to apologize with action and reconciliation. What we as a nation are willing to give are words and donations. I think the suffering and death of luxury is painful. Luxury is a human quality, that distracts me from my existential responsibility. This round of felicidades are to forgive the dark side of the man "Che". He was a killer, he took on the viscous face of anger and revenge. He believed in something not only to die for, but unfortunately to kill for. I have to say that when I visited Guatemala it was easy to see who would welcome equality and who would resist having to be equal.
Reason
This is a really thoughtful and gentle look at injustice, race, class, & culture. Malcom Gladwell has helped me get/find a foothold on the concept of social grace.
Grace
I find that I get worked up over injustice. I try to be balanced and more often get caught up in the romance of the under dog fight ... the good fight. As I get older I see how there are so many good fights. I see how peoples perceptions about what the good fight might be differs, making each of our fights that much more complicated. Is "fair" equally just another perception?
While sitting down to take a break, I came across some literature about grace. If social justice has been a feature of my life, in order to be balanced I think I need social grace as well. So I have found that grace is forgiveness. It is forgiveness without an apology. It is an act of recognizing the divine dignity in my enemies. It is not tolerance. It is not the sacrifice of ideas, respect, or principles. And I am not certain what it can be, but I am sure it is a component to healing myself and the communities I belong to.
While sitting down to take a break, I came across some literature about grace. If social justice has been a feature of my life, in order to be balanced I think I need social grace as well. So I have found that grace is forgiveness. It is forgiveness without an apology. It is an act of recognizing the divine dignity in my enemies. It is not tolerance. It is not the sacrifice of ideas, respect, or principles. And I am not certain what it can be, but I am sure it is a component to healing myself and the communities I belong to.
Practice dying to live with perspective
When you say hello try and mean it. It is a simple gift, but it reverberates to our marrow. It sets the stage for good bye. There is a part of Albuquerque called San Jo, short for San Jose. I had a cousin who represented this area as a boxer. He was born on this date. As I have posted previously, he was violently murdered, wasting talent and a good heart. I can see his grave marker, a concrete boxing ring with ropes and all, when I drive south on I-25. He reminds me of the work that can be done in our Albuquerque communities.
I think of him when i am in a tough workout. I try to think of the struggle he put up in his last hours alive. I think of him when I can taste the iron in the back of my throat. I think of him when each breath is in itself exhausting. I think of him when my muscle are filled with lactic acid and they become unreliable. I think of him when I reach that dizziness that only lets me concentrate on breathing and movements motivated by muscle memory. My workouts finish and I rest. I think to myself how that workout might be practice for death. The anxiety of life is a hello to struggle.
Before each workout I get nervous because I despise the exhaustion and fatigue that leaves me vulnerable and cashed. With every hello to a workout there is a deep connection to the living experience, the moment, and it ends. It ends with what feels like heaven. They call it a natural high and it is a reward for saying hello and trusting the good bye.
Happy Birthday Primo!
I think of him when i am in a tough workout. I try to think of the struggle he put up in his last hours alive. I think of him when I can taste the iron in the back of my throat. I think of him when each breath is in itself exhausting. I think of him when my muscle are filled with lactic acid and they become unreliable. I think of him when I reach that dizziness that only lets me concentrate on breathing and movements motivated by muscle memory. My workouts finish and I rest. I think to myself how that workout might be practice for death. The anxiety of life is a hello to struggle.
Before each workout I get nervous because I despise the exhaustion and fatigue that leaves me vulnerable and cashed. With every hello to a workout there is a deep connection to the living experience, the moment, and it ends. It ends with what feels like heaven. They call it a natural high and it is a reward for saying hello and trusting the good bye.
Happy Birthday Primo!
Perfection
The Catholic church has engrained in me a victim's mentality. It never taught me how to be a champion. I have for years felt it was better to lose with dignity than to believe in power and leverage. Blessed are the meek, and pity the underprivileged. I also recognize how those who persist and finish the race are cherished. Be strong in spirit. Where does our spirit live? I believe it lives in my body. I must strengthen my vessel, without decorating it for parades. The bishops, the cardinals, and high priest all celebrate their vocation with robes, incense , and basilicas, I celebrate my revolutionary vocation with a fit body, mystical thoughts, and enduring spirit that tastes fatigue in all aspects of living. So those of you who think it is better to be frail in body, I ask are you also frail in prayer?
Cooperation or Corporation
These two words are perplexing. The American dream might be somewhere between.
This morning's walk
Our institutions work very hard to empower us, and at times their expectations disable us. I took a 100 level course this spring, biology 124. It is typically filled with second semester freshmen. I, being 36, was nervous, self conscious, and curious. I was nervous that I would fail. I was self conscious that I was too old and would stick out. I was curious about how the body works. I put effort and resources into this course. I am grateful to my peers, my professor, and my loved ones for supporting me through the experience.
I thought about how stressed each student was before each test. I thought about the fear of losing site of a dream because of poor scores in college. I asked why do we pay so much money to fail. It seems like a large enough portion of students are paying to try and learn. It is as if our higher education is a casino. You pay for an opportunity to win. I am a father of two healthy and intelligent young ladies. I am as patient as I can possibly be with their learning. In turn I have learned to be patient with myself. Should education lead to qualification? If we are paying to learn concepts in a course, why don't we demand that we get what we pay for? If we fail is it like buying a new car and driving recklessly? Is learning a commodity to be capitalized on? Is learning a privilege to be rationed to the willing? Are poorer communities getting what they deserve? Should we withhold from the willing and able to supplement the immature and naughty? As long as education and learning are seen as qualifications and capital, then yes it is wasteful and foolish to spend currency on a delinquent customer. Our uneducated youth will find new ways, new careers, that will likely be detrimental to the greater community.
It seems foolish to create obstacles that discourage or scare a learning student. It reminds me of the horse and plow. The horse plows because it is afraid of the whip. Do the majority of students fear the whip of failure. I didn't start learning until I failed in love. It took an "F" in life's most fundamental lesson to help me see that learning is not to be feared but valued like a family heirloom. There isn't a drop out rate, its drop over rate. A learner may drop out of school, but they won't drop out of learning. We never stop learning, we only stop participating in systems we continually are punished in. This might be healthy if we think of learning as having a fit. I think if we concentrated on where school drop outs land we'd have better information on how keep them healthy and contributing in productive ways.
I thought about how stressed each student was before each test. I thought about the fear of losing site of a dream because of poor scores in college. I asked why do we pay so much money to fail. It seems like a large enough portion of students are paying to try and learn. It is as if our higher education is a casino. You pay for an opportunity to win. I am a father of two healthy and intelligent young ladies. I am as patient as I can possibly be with their learning. In turn I have learned to be patient with myself. Should education lead to qualification? If we are paying to learn concepts in a course, why don't we demand that we get what we pay for? If we fail is it like buying a new car and driving recklessly? Is learning a commodity to be capitalized on? Is learning a privilege to be rationed to the willing? Are poorer communities getting what they deserve? Should we withhold from the willing and able to supplement the immature and naughty? As long as education and learning are seen as qualifications and capital, then yes it is wasteful and foolish to spend currency on a delinquent customer. Our uneducated youth will find new ways, new careers, that will likely be detrimental to the greater community.
It seems foolish to create obstacles that discourage or scare a learning student. It reminds me of the horse and plow. The horse plows because it is afraid of the whip. Do the majority of students fear the whip of failure. I didn't start learning until I failed in love. It took an "F" in life's most fundamental lesson to help me see that learning is not to be feared but valued like a family heirloom. There isn't a drop out rate, its drop over rate. A learner may drop out of school, but they won't drop out of learning. We never stop learning, we only stop participating in systems we continually are punished in. This might be healthy if we think of learning as having a fit. I think if we concentrated on where school drop outs land we'd have better information on how keep them healthy and contributing in productive ways.
Arguing to share
Do we as a culture need to convince, convert, or agree? I find more often than not, that expressing myself leads to reasoning and explaining, more than it leads to collaborating and understanding. I find value in alignment and agreement, but not for the sake of patriotism, legislation, or peer acceptance. I think our individuality is a healthy part of remaining a symbiotic system. I am interested in how often I am asked to discern what is right and wrong. I desire more times that confront the duality of things by embracing the potential of things. I desire times when we ask questions like "what can be anticipated" versus "is this right". This is where the scientific mind reveals the paradox between knowing and not knowing. Science does give truths for argument but in my understanding it gives information about complexity. When arguments are held, more questions are answered and less are created. Can we ask more question about sharing, versus questions that fool us into conclusions?
Inspired by my brother's graduation from college
The educated man
The goal of the school is to make uniform, hopeful to distribute equally a curriculum. The curriculum is only a framework for the synthesis of education. Is education the goal?
It is not for a learning man. Curriculum is like a vascular system feeding the parts of the body with known goodness. At times forgetting it is helping the body grow. It is the mind that harnesses the power of curriculum. The mind bridges the gap between the outside world and the inside world.
The process is learning.
Learning is the adaptations, integrations, failures, and inspirations that revitalize our understanding. When we are replenished with newness some ideas concepts must die. There must be a letting go. Intellectual maturity is a cycle. Take what is known, feed the body, absorb the world, experiment, and adjust the curriculum with thoughts and ideas.
The goal of life is learning, school must not limit itself to an institution. It is the light of the day shining on objects wanting to be understood. It is the darkness of night holding silent to be felt. It is violence of confrontation anxious to be feared. It is the paradoxes that humble us. Like the sun being a night star shining so bright we call it day. And like the night that reveals the multitudes of days in the universe. It is eternal.
The goal of the educated man is to get swept away in the spirit of learning, not the accrual of knowledge?
Dedicated to my Brother Peter Estrada.
Reality is real
Reality is so real it's like running through a grass field and coming across a sticker. It's like taking a warm shower and someone flushes the toilet. It's like believing one is thinking of you and you get a call.
Prayers....they baffle me
So being a man in a dominantly secular culture with a codominant recessive spiritual trait, I often pray secretly. There is even instruction from my spiritual mentor, to pray secretly in my room, close the door, and keep it secret. So now sharing that I pray is somewhat vain.
Anyway, I have found nature to be a complete expression of humanity. This has caused me to map the different qualities in nature with those most have been taught to believe are exclusive to humans.. I want to see myself in the natural beauty that surrounds me. This reflection should hold both shadows and brilliance. This visibility of reflection is a prayer that I have sent to the Lord.
For those of you who have notice the forgiveness theme, this is one of the qualities I have been contemplating. I am being shown that our animal qualities are not so distinct from our human qualities. The payer I am being sent back is that I am not so superior to the simplest organism, to the point that pain and injustice is beyond them. I must not only be considerate to the homeless, but also the ecosystem. The earth is not beyond being wounded, nor are its simplest parts.
This man's research is how God sustains me and keeps me believing in prayer
Anyway, I have found nature to be a complete expression of humanity. This has caused me to map the different qualities in nature with those most have been taught to believe are exclusive to humans.. I want to see myself in the natural beauty that surrounds me. This reflection should hold both shadows and brilliance. This visibility of reflection is a prayer that I have sent to the Lord.
For those of you who have notice the forgiveness theme, this is one of the qualities I have been contemplating. I am being shown that our animal qualities are not so distinct from our human qualities. The payer I am being sent back is that I am not so superior to the simplest organism, to the point that pain and injustice is beyond them. I must not only be considerate to the homeless, but also the ecosystem. The earth is not beyond being wounded, nor are its simplest parts.
This man's research is how God sustains me and keeps me believing in prayer
Only If
Damn! If we only opened the doors of creativity to all our cultures, not just the ones who qualify.
If we could only figure out ways to discover potential in our delinquents, versus inventing ways to entrap them.
If we created di-versities that can integrate pros and cons versus uni-versities ethnocentrically doing their best to tolerate us, our participation rate might be higher than our incarceration rate.
If we could only stop the constant exposure to failure, and have some one finally see us as potential, we might be reminded of the value in values.
If we could only find opportunity where we stick out.
If crime was seen as a cry for help versus a reminder of slavery just as another name.
I think if we had social aid, creativity aid, and soul aid, financial aid could graduate.
- Ron Estrada
Synergy
The complete and efficient use of energy can be an out put of forgiveness synthesis. I think about how much energy I put into confrontation, especially needless confrontation, and I realize how distracting it can be. I move to worry, resentment, or even fatigue. This happens frequently throughout the day. Its the larger forms of grief that delay me. There are mood changing, day changing, and the daunting life changing events. Regardless I can visualize the processing of my distraction, pain, and concern. It is taking shape and it looks like what I call forgiveness synthesis. I break down the obstacles that clutter my day with reason, identifying my emotions, propelling me into acceptance and empathy. Empathy is the ultimate catalyst for compassion and when there is internal compassion forgiveness can clear the soul. Compassion is evidence of understanding, if we can find purpose for the experiences that are unfair, we are free to glide with efficiency.
Forgiveness Mythology
The beauty about having children is having connection to pure creativity. This is an example for me to explore when considering forgiveness in nature.
Forgiveness Synthesis
When I think of forgiveness, first thing that comes to mind is hurt. In
the human experience we have created a demand for reconciliation.
What does forgiveness look like in nature? In the great chain of life
there are processes that aren't fair, but are there processes that are
expressed with malice? I think that the nature of beings is to
oscillate between balance and other vertices, always striving for
balance. Is one of those vertices malicious? There is a sophisticated
expression of injustice when it comes to people because we can reason,
rationalize, or empathize. We also struggle with the privilege of
technology and I believe this makes most human injustice irrational.
Other species do most things for the sake of nutrition, order, and
reproduction. All may be narrowed to proliferation. We
are not different except for qualities like revenge, grudge, or
forgiveness. How is forgiveness
expressed in nature?
What can it teach me?
Interpreting
Today's post is inspired by Sergio Vieira de Mello, whose birthday passed this last week. I have a calendar of heroes birthday's. He is on my Calendar so that I am reminded to never lose hope, regain my center, or let loose. I am struggling to understand how to grow older.
Sergio was a man who was in love with so much. He was a peace keeper, an immersive, and reckless with his heart. Today I sit in a lifestyle so comfortable that feel afraid to dance. I use dance in the metaphorical way, as if to be romantic, when all I want to say is, I can't move. I feel as if a part of me is waiting for life to happen. Sergio will be remembered by his championing the philosophy of being an immersed helper. You cannot help from the sidelines. You cannot help from a distance.
Where does the will and motivation to keep moving closer come from? Life can be so fun, so fun that working seems avoidable and dreadful. His memory will have to be enough for now to at least keep my eye off the quit button.
Sergio was a man who was in love with so much. He was a peace keeper, an immersive, and reckless with his heart. Today I sit in a lifestyle so comfortable that feel afraid to dance. I use dance in the metaphorical way, as if to be romantic, when all I want to say is, I can't move. I feel as if a part of me is waiting for life to happen. Sergio will be remembered by his championing the philosophy of being an immersed helper. You cannot help from the sidelines. You cannot help from a distance.
Where does the will and motivation to keep moving closer come from? Life can be so fun, so fun that working seems avoidable and dreadful. His memory will have to be enough for now to at least keep my eye off the quit button.
A grain of sand
I cannot, I am not ignoring the continued misconceptions of people for people who are from "south of the border". Having a Brown heritage and similar Latino traits, I have the belief that there are large portions of people labeling us as being menaces, dead weight, and dysfunctional. I am trying to understand the reality that we are less educated. I am trying to understand our violent nature. I am trying to understand from a critical view point how being Chicano, Latino, or Mestizo has become so toxic. It is also important to know that although I look with a critical lens I am fastened tightly to the truth that I come from a resilient, creative, and symbiotic heritage.
We, I, and Us are not absolutely unhealthy and are far from being completely harmonious. In my research to understanding how the Mestizo culture was created, I learned about Central America. I learned of the Maya and Azteca. I was drawn to the Mayan resistance, known to the ignorant Gringo mentality as a communist front. I learned that it was a conscious effort to bring symbiosis to a resource saturated region. These resources attracted characters that found value in capital economies. I have followed the injustices of Central America, as if being drawn into it. The birthplace of injustice during the industrial times is Guatemala. I have journaled about it in previous blogs. Now there are actions to account for the devastation. Leaders are being brought to justice. More significantly the forgiveness synthesis has broken a barrier to action.
The "Critical" portion of forgiveness is finally initiating. Efraín Ríos Montt will be held accountable for his choices. He is the enemy, but first he is a person. In my opinion he has vilified the gringo mentality, by personifying the shadow quality to the gringo archetype. Despite my vengeful mind, my heart is wondering how he could grow to believe in decisions that led to 200,000 lives eliminated. I am already primed to encounter what I consider the understanding portion of forgiveness synthesis.
Efraín Ríos Montt will stand trial.
We, I, and Us are not absolutely unhealthy and are far from being completely harmonious. In my research to understanding how the Mestizo culture was created, I learned about Central America. I learned of the Maya and Azteca. I was drawn to the Mayan resistance, known to the ignorant Gringo mentality as a communist front. I learned that it was a conscious effort to bring symbiosis to a resource saturated region. These resources attracted characters that found value in capital economies. I have followed the injustices of Central America, as if being drawn into it. The birthplace of injustice during the industrial times is Guatemala. I have journaled about it in previous blogs. Now there are actions to account for the devastation. Leaders are being brought to justice. More significantly the forgiveness synthesis has broken a barrier to action.
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Rodrigo Abd/Associated Press |
The "Critical" portion of forgiveness is finally initiating. Efraín Ríos Montt will be held accountable for his choices. He is the enemy, but first he is a person. In my opinion he has vilified the gringo mentality, by personifying the shadow quality to the gringo archetype. Despite my vengeful mind, my heart is wondering how he could grow to believe in decisions that led to 200,000 lives eliminated. I am already primed to encounter what I consider the understanding portion of forgiveness synthesis.
Efraín Ríos Montt will stand trial.