Life

Reconstructing the Looking Glass

~ Natal Galvan ~ 2 Comments

In the whimsical dance of life, I’ve found solace in the serendipitous wisdom of self-help books. Rather than a linear journey from cover to cover, I let fate guide my hand to a page that whispers just what my soul needs to hear. On a day kissed by destiny, I cradled “The Art of Possibility” by Rosamund and Benjamin Zander in my hands. It was page 42 that caught my eye, where Rosamund muses on the art of remolding the past:

“How often do we stand convinced of the truth of our early memories, forgetting that they are but assessments made by a child? We can replace the narratives that hold us back by inventing wiser stories free from childish fears, and in doing so disperse long held psychological stumbling blocks.”

This passage is a beacon, illuminating the profound influence of perception and our sovereign right to redraw the contours of our personal tales. The Zanders assert that the fabric of our existence is spun from the yarns we narrate to ourselves and absorb from others. By rethreading these yarns, we possess the alchemy to transform our view of life and the tapestry of our connections.

This resonated with me profoundly, as mere days prior to reading this, I was enveloped in the warmth of my mother and visiting aunts from Colombia. Amidst a symphony of laughter and the spirited flow of aguardiente, confessions and lessons from their lives unfurled like vibrant threads. Each shared their own saga of clandestine escapades, with no remorse for the masquerades necessary to guard their secrets.

As the day unfolded, family lore long concealed began to emerge, like specters stepping out for a promenade. The revelations about my parents soon followed. I discovered truths that had been veiled from my childhood gaze, piecing together the mosaic of my upbringing.

A melancholy tide now washes over me. In those shared moments, I saw my father not as an enigma, but as flesh and blood, flawed and real. The very kin who harbored their own secrets were quick to cast stones at what I once believed was an unblemished fortress of love, my dad. My adoration for my father was unwavering, yet I was led to see him as a beast. He was no beast; he was simply human.

I harbor no rage when I ponder these revelations. Might my bond with my father have flourished differently if his image hadn’t been tarnished by others’ unchecked emotions? If they had shielded me from the complexities, rather than painting him as a villain?

Revisiting the past holds a sacred significance for me now. With the wisdom of adulthood, I perceive life through a lens refined by my own experiences. It’s a curious thing; I once prided myself on being open-minded, and perhaps I was, in some respects. Yet, as I’ve journeyed and adventured, my consciousness has blossomed further.

The anniversary of his departure looms on the horizon. For the first time, I can honor his memory with tears of love, not sorrow. Some might say it’s too late, his absence a barrier. But I disagree. I’ve been graced with the insight and maturity to understand what was once beyond my grasp. This is tranquility, a gift I never anticipated. I cherish this newfound closure and embrace the evolution of our bond.

Change: From Inner Shifts to Cosmic Ripples

~ Natal Galvan
Daily writing prompt
What change, big or small, would you like your blog to make in the world?
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My journey into the blogosphere was born from a dream to one day become a published author. Yet, the thought of exposing my inner musings to the gaze of the unknown was a daunting barrier. As time unfurled, I grew more comfortable with unveiling my words, largely because the eyes that perused them weren’t those of familiar faces. Still, there are moments when I retreat, ever so slightly. Countless are the instances where I’ve shared a piece of my soul, only to retract it in a dance of hesitation, wary of causing a stir or unsettling the peace.

The transformation I yearn for through my blog is one that originates from within, a personal revolution that’s already in motion. Reflecting on my inaugural post and witnessing the evolution of my craft is both exhilarating and a source of encouragement. It’s in this metamorphosis that I perceive a shift in the cosmos. After all, altering a single soul can set the stars in a new alignment.

Indeed, I harbor hopes that my narratives resonate with someone, somewhere. That through the communion of my tales, readers may find a spark of inspiration, a drive to persevere against their own tribulations. Yet, by dedicating myself to the art of writing with sincerity and benevolence, such connections will naturally form. The metamorphosis I seek for my blog is not just an alteration, but a perpetual, inspiring, and dynamic force within my own realm, sending ripples across the fabric of the Universe.

Enchantment in the Ritual of Growth

~ Natal Galvan
Daily writing prompt
Describe one habit that brings you joy.
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Finding joy in life often comes from the simplest of rituals; for me, it is the act of nurturing my plants. With each passing year, I find myself dedicating more time to this practice—not because my collection has grown, but because I’ve discovered a profound bond in the process. It’s a bond that breathes vitality into my days.

To me, nature is nothing short of real-life enchantment. When we pause to contemplate the complexities of life, the elaborate dance required to execute even the most “basic” actions, we realize it transcends mere science. Existence is a tapestry of being and becoming. Life burgeons, stretches, and transforms right before our eyes—yet we often overlook the spectacle.

Tending to my plants anchors me in the now. It’s a meditative state where, for a fleeting moment, my personal tribulations fade into the background, and all that remains is the verdant oasis I’m cultivating. In this sanctuary, amidst the foliage and blooms, I find a serene assurance that, in this very instant, everything is as it should be—perfectly okay, perfectly magical.

Embracing the Winds of Change: Reflecting on Life’s Decisions

~ Natal Galvan

Life is a tapestry woven with decisions—some impulsive, others calculated, but each thread contributing to the intricate pattern of our existence. My journey has been marked by choices that some might label as erratic or spontaneous. Yet, these moments of decision, whether they led to triumphs or trials, have been the very essence of my learning.

In the quiet corners of our lives, we encounter those pivotal decisions that resonate deeply within us. We sense their rightness, even when the full impact of their wisdom is yet to be felt. It’s in the patient unfolding of time that the seeds of doubt can sprout, tempting us to question our course.

Recently, I found myself at a crossroads, faced with decisions of considerable weight. Guided by the compass of my heart, I sought authenticity and joy. Such significant life choices, however, come with their sacrifices. As the days pass, a sense of loss lingers; life as we knew it—and who we were within it—transforms.

Transition periods are rife with uncertainty, yet it is essential to anchor ourselves in the pursuit of happiness. Time, that gentle sculptor, eventually reveals a new pattern of existence, and the vision we held for ourselves begins to materialize.

Amidst this journey, I experienced a momentary ebb in my spirits. Partly, I could attribute it to the hormonal tempests that visit monthly, leaving emotional turbulence in their wake. But there was also the recognition that I was in a phase of gradual alignment, where life’s puzzle pieces were finding their place, albeit slowly.

How do I navigate these emotional troughs? Initially, I surrender to the distraction of reality TV, allowing my thoughts to drift untethered. By the third day, restlessness sets in, signaling the simmering of creative energy, hinting at an impending burst of inspiration. And when the fifth day dawns, I emerge renewed, ready to embrace the present moment—the ultimate sanctuary from the past’s echoes and the future’s whispers.

In moments of doubt, I’ve learned the importance of sitting with my emotions, for they are the keys to self-discovery. The challenge lies in moving beyond these feelings, not allowing doubt to ensnare us, but instead, using it as a catalyst to uncover the evolving facets of our identity.

I urge that when you find yourself in moments of doubt, allow yourself the time to feel your feelings because it does allow you to figure a lot of yourself out. The key is to move past those moments, not getting lost in the feelings of doubts and allowing yourself to rediscover new parts of yourself that have developed through these times. Give yourself the gift of the present moment and before you know it, those pieces that you were waiting to fall into place, are.

A Daily Journey: Self Sustainability

~ Natal Galvan
Daily writing prompt
Are there things you try to practice daily to live a more sustainable lifestyle?
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Every day, I valiantly attempt to embrace the eco-warrior lifestyle, but let’s be real – sometimes it feels like I’m just hanging onto the green wagon with my pinky finger. My daily rituals? Oh, they’re a hoot! I meditate, juggle crystals, and waft sage smoke around like a wizard gone wild. These practices are supposed to anchor me to the earth, but lately, life’s been playing keep-away with my zen.

Now, when the blues sneak up on me, I’ve found my secret escape: nature. It’s like hitting the refresh button on my soul’s browser. A stroll along the beach or a jaunt through the woods, and I’m one with the universe again. It’s as if Mother Nature herself gives me a cosmic high-five, and suddenly, I’m ready to tackle the world – or at least my laundry pile.

But let’s not romanticize it too much. Nature has its own version of comedy. Ever tried to maintain inner peace while being the main course at a mosquito banquet? Yeah, not so serene. And so on days when my energy tank is running on fumes, you’ll simply find me sprawled on the couch, remote in hand, binge-watching my way to enlightenment. The only pilgrimage I’m making is to the fridge and back. But hey, sometimes a good veg-out is just the ticket to finding my center – or at least the center of the couch.

So, there you have it, my green-hearted friends. Sustainable living? I’m trying, one laugh (and one mosquito bite) at a time.

A Quirky Guide to Living Like Water

~ Natal Galvan

Have you ever felt like you’re holding onto a cactus? The more you grip, the more it hurts? Well, I’ve been there, done that, and got the t-shirt (ouch, prickly!). But guess what? I’ve discovered the secret sauce to a blissful existence, and it’s all about embracing your inner H2O. That’s right, becoming as chill as water.

You see, I used to be a professional life-clinger. If there was something to hold onto, I’d latch on like a barnacle. But then, I had an epiphany. Why am I wrestling with life when I could be waltzing with it? So, I traded my boxing gloves for ballet slippers and learned the delicate dance of letting go.
Now, I’m not saying I’ve turned into a quitter. Oh no, when I want something, I’m like a dog with a bone (but, like, a really determined, cute dog). However, I’ve fine-tuned my intuition radio, and when the vibes are off, I know it’s time to switch stations.

In the past, I was like a squirrel in a nut factory—hoarding experiences, relationships, and knick-knacks like they were going out of style. But the struggle? It’s so last season. Now, I’m all about flowing with the current. Think of water and pebbles; water doesn’t throw a tantrum when it meets a rock—it just shimmy-shakes around it. And that, my friends, is my new addiction.

I used to worry about the naysayers, the ones who’d whisper, “Gosh, she gives up too easily,” or “Why isn’t she fighting harder?” But now? I just flash them my pearly whites. They’re on their own path, and mine is a river cruise of joy.

Critics? They’re probably just jelly because they haven’t discovered their own flow yet. But hey, that’s okay! I’m here to show that life can be a breeze if you just ride the waves. When I’m surfing the tide of happiness, I hang ten; when I’m not, I bail. And it’s all good.

By living this way, I’m not just a happy camper—I’m a happy glamper. And those around me? They’re not green with envy; they’re ready to jump on my inflatable raft of contentment.
So, here’s the deal: while it’s noble to sprinkle happiness on others, it’s crucial to fill your own cup first. You can’t pour from an empty vessel, right? And sure, chasing your bliss might ruffle some feathers, but sometimes, that’s the lesson they need.

Cultivating an adaptable mindset is like learning a new dance—you might step on a few toes at first, but with practice, you’ll be gliding across the dance floor of life with ease. Here are some practical tips and exercises to help you become more like water—flexible, resilient, and ever-flowing:

1. The Pebble Meditation

  • Find a small pebble (or a crystal!) and hold it in your hand.
  • Imagine this pebble is an obstacle in your life.
  • Now, close your eyes and visualize a stream of water flowing around the pebble effortlessly.
  • Reflect on how you can apply this fluidity to your own challenges.

2. The ‘Yes, And…’ Exercise

  • Next time you’re conversing with someone, practice the improvisational technique of “Yes, And…”
  • Instead of resisting or negating what the other person says, build upon it.
  • This encourages open-mindedness and adaptability in thinking.

3. The Change-Your-Route Challenge

  • For one week, change something about your daily routine.
  • Take a different path to work, try a new coffee shop, or even rearrange your furniture.
  • Notice how these changes make you feel and what new perspectives they bring.

4. The Comfort Zone Expansion

  • Make a list of things that slightly scare you but you’re curious about.
  • Commit to trying one new thing from your list each month.
  • It could be as simple as striking up a conversation with a stranger or as daring as skydiving.

5. The Reflection Ritual

  • At the end of each day, take a moment to reflect on what went well and what didn’t.
  • Ask yourself, “How did I adapt to unexpected situations today?”
  • Celebrate your successes and consider how you can improve your adaptability tomorrow.

6. The Mindful Moment

  • Several times a day, pause for a mindful moment.
  • Take a deep breath, observe your surroundings, and acknowledge your thoughts and feelings without judgment.
  • This practice helps you stay centered and ready to flow with whatever comes your way.


In the end, if you’re not following your heart, you’re not just shortchanging yourself; you’re denying the world the gift of your full, radiant self; the gift of learning something deeper, purer. And trust me, the world needs more of that enlightening shine.


So, let’s raise our glasses (filled to the brim, of course) to living like water—effortless, adaptable, and utterly refreshing. Here’s to the flow!

The Double Standard of Forgiveness: Family Dynamics

~ Natal Galvan ~ 2 Comments

As time marches on, I find myself enveloped in the complexities of adult hypocrisy. It’s a thick fog that seems to cloud judgment and warp reality to suit one’s own narrative. Growing older has peeled back the curtain to reveal a truth that’s both liberating and unsettling: adults don’t always hold the answers. They, too, are improvising through life’s unpredictable script, their actions becoming more transparent and unapologetic with age.

This realization hits hardest when I consider the relationship I had with my father—a relationship marred by the tainted perspectives handed down by the very adults who claimed to guide me. They warned me of his flaws, painting a picture of a man I should guard my heart against. Yet, as the years stack up, I see that those same adults were guilty of similar, if not identical, transgressions.

The struggle I face isn’t with the loss of my father or the strained ties that bound us. Such narratives are not unique in the tapestry of human experience. My battle lies in the newfound knowledge that my mother’s side of the family, once perceived as the bastion of virtue, was equally flawed. They committed the same mistakes they implored me to neither forgive nor forget in my father.

The judgment, the half-truths, and the outright omissions of fact—it’s a mire of deceit that begs the question: How could they stand so firmly in their righteousness while casting my father as the perennial villain? He was condemned for his humanity, for his errors, and when he stumbled, there was no hand to help him up. We broke him, collectively and remorselessly, without a backward glance.

In this reflection, I grapple not with forgiveness but with understanding. The double standard of absolving a mother while vilifying a father speaks volumes about the selective nature of our grace. It’s a poignant reminder that in the end, we are all fallible beings, navigating the murky waters of life’s choices and consequences.

Is there a simmering anger within me? Undoubtedly, yes. For 37 years, I navigated life under the impression that my father was a man to be scorned, when in truth, he was merely human. The narrative I was fed—that his errors were unforgivable—shaped me into who I am today. Now, I can’t help but ponder if I might have been different without that influence.

Life’s rich tapestry, observed through the actions of others and the wisdom gleaned from countless books, has broadened my understanding of the human condition. Yet, the lens through which I view life and people has been irrevocably colored by the strife between my mother and father.

I believe he’s out there, somewhere, with a newfound comprehension of my thoughts and emotions—a connection we lacked in life. And in this belief, I find peace, knowing he’s aware of my forgiveness. After all, what I once thought needed absolution was nothing more than the ordinary failings of a man.

As I forge my path, I carry with me the lessons of this dichotomy, hoping to break the cycle of hypocrisy for the generations to come. It’s a journey toward a more compassionate and equitable understanding of forgiveness, where the scales of judgment are balanced, and every soul is given the chance to rise from their missteps.

The Plight of the Turtle and the Irony of Human Haste

~ Natal Galvan

In the grand theater of life’s absurdities, there’s a darkly comedic act that plays out on our roads each year. It’s turtle season, and these shelled pedestrians are making their perilous pilgrimage from Point A to Point B. Yet, as they brave the asphalt gauntlet, humanity’s metal chariots rarely yield.

Two mornings ago, I became an unwitting actor in this tragicomedy. There I was, driving to work, when the pickup ahead performed a vehicular pirouette to avoid a tiny turtle. The driver’s near-death dance with destiny was impressive, but not enough to inspire a stop. No, that task fell to me.

I pulled over, my heart a mix of altruism and annoyance. The turtle, a bewildered traveler, had reversed course, perhaps realizing the grass isn’t always greener on the other side of the road. As I cradled the creature, I pondered its thoughts. Was I a predator? A giant set to dine on turtle soup? Or just another incomprehensible giant?

Traffic continued to flow like a river around a pebble – me, the pebble, and the turtle, an afterthought. I ferried my new friend to safety, receiving what I fancied as a grateful glance. It’s funny how two minutes of halted human hustle can feel like an eternity.

This episode is a microcosm of our collective sprint through life. We dash and dart, often without purpose, racing towards the next red light, the next checkout line, the next complaint. We’re so fixated on the finish line that we trample over life’s little wonders – and sometimes, over each other.

It’s a peculiar paradox: in our rush to live, we forget to savor life. We overlook the small acts of kindness that could make our journeys meaningful. We ignore the turtles of the world, both literal and metaphorical, in our blind pursuit of… what, exactly?

Perhaps it’s time to slow down, to recognize that not all obstacles are impediments but invitations to pause, reflect, and maybe – just maybe – help a turtle cross the road. Because if we can’t stop for a creature so small, what hope do we have of stopping for each other?

So, here’s to the turtles and the lessons they carry on their backs: slow and steady might not win the race, but it sure makes the journey more humane. And who knows? In the end, we might just thank them for reminding us to take a breath, look around, and appreciate the world we’re all just passing through.

 The Trials and Tribulations of a Family Business

~ Natal Galvan

If you ever find yourself being invited to participate in a family business, my advice is to think twice. This holds true whether the invitation comes from your own kin or a loved one, such as a partner or significant other. This is particularly pertinent when it comes to the food and beverage industry.

For the past four months, I’ve been assisting my partner with his new venture. His decision to enter the restaurant industry at this stage of his life remains a mystery to me. Despite my two decades of experience in various types of restaurants, my advice to steer clear of this business model fell on deaf ears. As the saying goes, some people need to learn their lessons the hard way. Despite my reservations about the business, my love for my partner compelled me to lend a hand.

I brought a wealth of experience to the table. While I didn’t have all the answers to opening a restaurant, I certainly knew more than my partner and his family. Fast forward a few months, and I found myself gracefully stepping back. My academic commitments were a factor, but not the primary reason for my departure.

Menu items which my partner and I had discussed, items I knew that if we’d sell would do amazingly well, were quickly considered by the others and discarded. Conversations of plans as to how to move forward with certain goals would change within seconds without my knowledge of it, at times creating a double workload for me, having to do and redo projects. My role of interviewing and hiring was diminished to really only calling and speaking to those who couldn’t speak English. That’s when my experience was really needed, to interpret.

Being part of a family business where you don’t share the family name can be challenging. Regardless of your experience, there will always be those who believe that age or a certain background gives them the upper hand. I often felt that my ideas were entertained but never seriously considered, which was frustrating. The final straw came when we hired a professional chef, and even her qualifications were questioned.

Given my personality, it was difficult for me to hold my tongue, and I realized I had to leave. I couldn’t risk damaging my relationship with my partner or his family. Integrating into his family had already been a challenge, and the added stress of the business was the last thing I needed.

Life is short, and our purpose is to enjoy ourselves. When something ceases to be enjoyable or exciting, it’s a sign that it’s time to move on. I’ve learned to trust that instinct and not waste time, as it usually prevails. So, I sent an email requesting to be relieved of my management responsibilities. I drew a line in the sand and set a boundary. It was a liberating experience, but the lack of response to my email was disheartening. I felt as though my hard work and dedication over the past four months had been in vain.

I was left with a nagging pain in my neck from stress and a heavy heart. I realized that my partner had not made a better effort to involve me more in the business. It felt as though I was on a team that I hadn’t been recruited for. It was akin to letting the little sister play, but her position doesn’t count.

My next step is to avoid getting drawn into their queries. I’ve stepped away, and they need to figure things out. I wish them the best, and while it’s unfortunate that this wasn’t the joint project I had envisioned for my partner and me, that’s okay. I’m proud of myself for not falling into old patterns and for taking control of a potentially stressful situation. Now, it’s time for me to move on and enjoy the summer.

Linwood Country C&$*@

~ Natal Galvan

After a grueling work week, my best friend and I sought an outdoor haven to unwind on our cherished Friday afternoon. We she discovered a charming spot in a nearby town, boasting picturesque outdoor seating and the promise of live music that evening. The venue was a local country club, a place I had visited once before, two years ago, when their outdoor section was just blossoming. Apart from the captivating scenery, there wasn’t much happening then, so I hadn’t returned until now.

Fast forward two years, my best friend and I, eager for a change of scenery and a good catch-up, arrived at the club. Initially, it was serene, with only a handful of golfers dotting the landscape. The bartenders were in a state of calm preparation for the evening. However, as the sun began its descent, the place started filling up. We were probably the youngest patrons there, but we didn’t mind, as we usually prefer the company of an older crowd. It soon became apparent, though, that we had intruded on the territory of the bar’s regulars, who were none too pleased with two random strangers sitting at their bar.

The hostility was almost instantaneous: nudges, pushes, shoves. The first offender was the so-called “owner,” a term he liberally used. Unbeknownst to him, I was aware of his actual status as a silent partner, a term he seemed to misunderstand. His behavior was boorish, treating the bartenders and paying customers with condescension. The air was thick with entitlement, hanging over the crowd like L.A city smog.

As we dealt with the “owner,” I began to notice out of my peripheral a woman began buzzing around me like an irksome mosquito. Suddenly, she was right next to me, her sweaty arm uncomfortably rubbing up against mine, and she started bombarding me with questions, “Who are you? Where you girls from, locals? What are you doing here? Are you leaving soon?” When she realized I wasn’t giving her much attention, she resorted to insults (per what foolish people do when they aren’t getting what they want), loudly proclaiming that the men at the bar weren’t “my type.” I asked her to clarify, and she suggested that the men were too old for me and that I should look elsewhere. Her audacity was cringe-worthy. Not for me but for herself for this sad woman was someone’s something.

You could begin to feel the crowd’s energy began to shift, some siding with her, while a few sympathized with us. Those who felt bad tried to make amends by offering to buy us drinks, which we declined. The husband of the pesky mosquito came over to apologize and then also stated,

“Trust me, if I could divorce her without her taking half of everything, I would have done it a long time ago. She is horrible.”

Our intended relaxing day off had turned into a battle of wills. To add to the ordeal, our quesadilla order, placed an hour and a half earlier, had yet to arrive. The bartender, sensing our discomfort, assured us that our food would be out soon. When it finally arrived, we quickly finished, paid, and left, but not without a lingering feeling of defeat.

I wrote a review, expressing my disappointment with the “owner’s” behavior and the regulars’ unwelcoming attitude. Sure, while customers come with their own set of quirks, can’t say much to that, it’s definitely within bounds to nudge the “owner” about minding his manners around the staff and patrons. If I were the boss and caught a glimpse of an owner acting out, I’d be more than just a little shocked – I’d be ready to teach a masterclass in Business Etiquette 101!

In my review, I vowed we’d be back, not keen on allowing them to treat us as the outsiders. Yet, in the days that followed, I had my doubts. It was a bit of a bummer to imagine those laughing hyenas carrying on with their night as we trudged home, spirits low. For them, it was just a blip on the radar, probably the butt of jokes as their evening rolled on. For us? It was a gloomy cloud that hung around way longer than welcome.

It’s quite the paradox, isn’t it? There we were, a couple of peace-loving souls, just trying to unwind, and yet we found ourselves in a stress-inducing saga. It’s ironic how we all aimed to chill out, but some folks must’ve missed the memo. The instigators likely slept like babies, oblivious to the chaos in their wake.

To them, we were merely obstacles in their quest for an extra squeeze of lemon in their vodka water.