life lessons

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.

I’ve Only Got Two: Turning the Other Cheek

~ Natal Galvan

When you consistently display a forgiving and forgetful attitude, you unintentionally condition those around you to treat you as they see fit. This behavior reinforces the idea that their actions towards you, whether positive or negative, are acceptable and justified. By constantly turning the other cheek, you essentially signal to the world that it is acceptable to repeatedly mistreat you.

However, there may come a time when you no longer wish to maintain this passive stance. Eventually, you may become tired and decide to take proactive steps to protect yourself. This change in behavior can confuse and upset those who have become used to your constant tolerance. They may find it difficult to understand why you are suddenly showing assertiveness and inflexibility, and why you are no longer as understanding or willing to forgive and forget.

Eventually, you may reach a point where you firmly state that you will no longer tolerate such treatment. While some people may choose to abruptly end the relationship at this point, a more thoughtful approach involves introspection to identify how one’s own actions may have contributed to the development of such attitudes.

In recent years, since returning home, I’ve been forgiving and forgetting a bit too much. When you reach a certain stage in life, you start to evaluate what’s happening around you, and you gradually start to weigh what truly matters to you and what doesn’t. You begin to want to let go of things, conserving your energy for the things that truly matter to you. I stopped arguing and fighting over minor issues. In my view, if it won’t matter in a year, then why argue about it now? So, with this approach, I started to overlook the small lies of omission, or even the larger, more premeditated ones. I constantly put myself in others’ shoes, accepting their reasoning for what I felt could be interpreted as disloyalty, selfishness, and sometimes even scheming. I simply allowed others to be themselves, and if I discovered something unpleasant about them, I ignored it.

Now, those very same people are unable to do the same. They cannot set aside their own beliefs for others. They won’t sacrifice their own truth to allow someone else theirs. The level of entitlement, the level of selfishness, after much conditioning, is just too high.

In life, it is crucial to live your truth. Not everyone you make sacrifices for will be willing to do the same. Not everyone you help will be grateful. Not everyone you know, regardless of how long you’ve known them, will you be able to rely on, let alone trust. For many, this life is a game and in order for them to progress, they feel they must do so selfishly and unforgivingly. Fortunately for me, I understand that it’s not a game. We’re here for the experience and we can choose what that experience can be. I decided that I want to have fun and do things that make me happy. I want to follow what’s good and what feels good. Sometimes that means eliminating things that don’t serve me or my happiness. There will be tough decisions to make, but are they really that tough when you know that one decision will bring you joy and the other…won’t? For me, the choice is quite straightforward.

The Quiet Reckoning

~ Natal Galvan

“Daddy! I need help!”

A cry pierced the air, a symphony of irritation and mild alarm; it heralded no menace, only the onset of a deluge of tears that dared to breach the ramparts of my heart, long fortified. There, in her vibrant fuchsia chariot, the little girl and her companion sat, teetering on the edge of too-grown for such whimsical rides. Midway through their suburban odyssey, the spirited steed faltered, its electric lifeblood drained, leaving dreams momentarily stranded.


“DADDYYYYYYY!” He was still inside, and these young ladies had a block to drive.


Suddenly he bolts out of the house as if he had been catapulted but some unseen force, hops down the four small steps, landing on the sidewalk with a WAP! Within seconds he makes his way down the sidewalk and around the back of the Jeep. Grabbing onto the back, he begins to run, pushing them down the sidewalk and sending them all into laughter.


This is the moment that I burst into tears.


It dawned on me then, the stark realization that the bond I yearned for with my father was a dream unfulfilled, now lost to time. A year and a half had passed since his departure. His health had always been fragile, leading to numerous scares, but our estrangement made these moments less poignant. In truth, he had been absent from my life; thus, his passing did not leave a void.
On the day of his passing, my tears were not for the loss of a beloved father, for our love had never blossomed. Instead, I felt a peculiar sense of curiosity. Visiting him a week before, I saw a man unknown to me. He lay silent, eyes closed, hands twisted in pain or discomfort, his mouth agape. Caretakers attended to him, wiping away drool, moistening his lips, offering water through a sponge.


A solitary encounter with him became memorable when I played a song from my childhood from the movie, “An American Tale,” which we cherished. His reaction was unexpected—his face contorted, tears flowed, and he emitted sounds of deep distress.


Before me was a stranger, a man whose life had barely brushed against mine. I didn’t know his favorite color. I did not know his favorite food. I didn’t know what genre of movie he preferred. I knew little of him—his likes, dislikes, or passions—save for his love of music and women. Whether his feelings for us were born of love or guilt, I could not discern.


I’m not going to say that he never tried, but there were certain wounds too deep, etched onto the soul of my being that wouldn’t allow for that to fully happen. There were rare occasions in which I had been the one to try. I’d reach out to him with a plan of action. We’d talk for hours going over what our lives had been up to that point and sprinkling in how we had to try to fix it, this, us. We’d hang up the phone, I’d feel light, and accomplished. That bit of motivation would then be followed up with silence. He would disappear and we wouldn’t speak for what would be for a couple of years after that. This would be our pattern until the day he died.


As a reader, I was aware of the potential regret of not connecting with him, a sentiment echoed by my family. Yet, now that he is gone, it is not regret that weighs on me but a profound disappointment—a longing to experience the sorrow that eludes me, the natural grief of a child for their father.


For months after he died, I would anxiously wait for the moment everyone had been warning me about. The moment of missing him, of yearning to hear his voice, or to hold his cold hands (his hands were always cold- “Cold hands, warm heart” he’d say!) but that moment never really came. I would try to sit in silence and see if I could feel his presence. I’d try my hardest to pay close attention to my dreams to see if maybe he’d visit me there. I soon realized I was reverting to childhood, always waiting for him, wanting him to visit, always being met with disappointment. So, I gave up again like I had years back.


Perhaps I won’t grieve as I did upon witnessing my neighbor, his offspring in tow, navigating a bubblegum-pink Barbie Jeep under the somber March skies. Yet, there’s solace in the breakthrough, a quiet epiphany embraced in solitude. It was a moment graced with a tender reflection of him, untainted by even a whisper of bitterness.

Learning to Nurture Relationships

~ Natal Galvan

I don’t know shit about life. All I know is that I know nothing really. My 20’s started off with me knowing exactly what life was about and how to work around it. I quickly learned that there isn’t a way to work around life. You’ve got to work with it. That means you need to live day to day observing what goes on around you. This is how you learn to maneuver your way along with life and the obstacles (lessons) that are bestowed upon us on a day to day basis.

As I was on my way to the grocery store today, I was in a more pensive state of mind than usual. My mind bounced from one topic to the next, and as I thought, I couldn’t help but observe one constant thread creating a link between all of them. The theme being “relationships” and with each fresh new subject that coursed through my mind, I noticed how bonds that we create with others (or lack thereof) really can make or break a situation.

Growing up I was accustomed to watching adults around me be evasive with their friends and even family members. They would ignore phone calls, constantly rescheduled plans that were previously made, and always seemed bothered at having to socialize with others who so badly wanted to socialize with them. It is no wonder that I’ve developed into more of a “right here right now” type of person. I connect with others in the present moment, but once you’re out of my sight, it is what is in front of me that I focus on, not on trying to maintain what was. Unlike my pets or plants, I don’t know how to cultivate and nurture friendships, and with how technology is, it is easier for others to point that out. Now more than ever it is easy to stay in contact with people no matter the distance. Yet in doing so, I feel that it is almost like having to trade your personal freedom and time for making sure others feel important. To me, it feels as though the advancement in technology and being able to stay connected with others has made relationship building a tedious job, something I have to make sure to check off my list, instead of it being something that is naturally sparked in me to do.

There is a level of feeling personally attacked that people feel if you’re not one to participate as often in the every day social connection. I can tell you that as someone who has FB and IG, the fact that I am not constantly liking posts, properly tagging people in pictures, commenting on life events be it minor or major, it has been talked about and brought to my attention. Only those who really know who I am understand that I am not one to be attached to hip to my phone. I could lose my phone and it’ll take me days before even going to the store to replace it because I could care less about having it. If it was not because everything in life is attached to my phone, I’d just as easily have a house line.

So, am I like this because I’ve been conditioned to be so after witnessing those around me do the same? Am I a product of my generation, where I became stuck to how easy things in life were before? Regardless, I know that relationships are important, and I am understanding that although I may not be the greatest at keeping up socially, I have to do a better job at it, even if it is in my own way. Connections are important and to maintain those connections you must put forth time and energy into them. Sure, you may not want to be measured against today’s social standards, but it is still important to show those you love that you do. It’s either invest the time and energy now while you have it or living a deafening life of loneliness and misery later.

Wrap Me Up in Bubble Wrap

~ Natal Galvan

I’m still not used to all the twists and turns and surprising drops that life sometimes takes, however I am getting much better at being able to deal with them without freaking out. I’m still struggling in regards to patiently dealing when other people’s life choices, decisions, and moods affect my day-to-day living or routine. I don’t have a lot of consistency in my life so I cherish the few routines I do have. They are the only times I can really count on to bringing me back to my center. They have become my zen moments. They have become the times that I can count on to escape and get away when need be. When other people disrupt that, it really truly grinds my gears.

In the last few weeks I have found myself countless times having to grit my teeth, bite my tongue, suppress any real opinion for fear of offending feelings. I have a lot of patience for such things because honestly, not everybody deserves to hear a true opinion. Not everyone can take it. Not everybody wants to hear it. “We were born with two ears to listen and one mouth to speak with, that’s two times the listening!” Isn’t that how the saying goes? Well, it is true to be. I am okay with it not always being about me, and having to share opinions or experiences without being asked. But soon patience starts running thin especially when those same people that you’re constantly interacting with start messing with your mojo, and when I mean “mojo” I mean my sacred routines.

I’m going to say that currently in my life there are three major players, which I won’t mention who they are. Each one of these major characters one way or another pull the strings to my puppet, meaning me. It is true when I say that I definitely feel I have regressed back into some of my old codependency ways. Some of those ways being, me not ever wanting to say no, or wanting let others down. Another way being that I do love to rescue and help and make people feel as though they’re being saved, that they’re okay and in good hands. I empty my cup, and empty it until there is no more, and still try to give from my empty cup. Before you know it I am at my wits end about to rip my hair out because I am depleted and drained and don’t know how to get myself out and back into drinking from my own cup again.

The last couple of days I have found much more “me” time and in that time I have concluded that if I want to take reins of my own life again and control the direction in which my future is going, then I definitely have to put my foot down. I started to be more of my authentic self. I make sure that before I leave the house in the morning I imagine myself covering myself from head to toe in thick bubble wrap. This bubble wrap is to deflect any and all sorts of negativity that could come my way, bouncing it right off of me. I have started to note when conflicting situations arise and instead of allowing myself to get caught up in the emotion and feed into it, I just say no more, turn around, and walk away.

I need to really reiterate to myself that I do not need to deal with other people’s shit. When I do, that is when I start losing my life and start living theirs. Regardless of who it is and how much love I have for them, this life experience is a short one and I came here to experience it fully for myself. I need to have that reminder in the back of my mind because it is a very strong and important message. If you’re asking me , it’s actually the most important one in my opinion.

That Little Prince

~ Natal Galvan

It’s summer but I spring cleaned my room this week, for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. It’s not that I’m messy. It’s a controlled chaos. Sometimes that controlled chaos gets a little frizzy, so I have to come around and tame it a bit, just like everyone else. Actually, not like anyone else but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because during this so-called “spring cleaning” I stumbled across an item that sent me reeling back to a time that once was. It was a book gifted to me by someone special in the days before me moving back home from CA. The book is “The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint Exupery.

The book came to me initially by recommendation. I was at my local library at the time scanning isles, nothing really jumping out at me. One thing about me and my trips to the library, which could be either good or bad or neither really, is the fact that I never went in with a plan as to what I was looking for. I would just walk up and down the row of bookshelves, with hopes that the right one would jump out at me. On one of my trips searching for that right book, I accidentally (on purpose) bumped into my crush. Now, this tall glass of water worked there restocking books. By this point we hadn’t exchanged more than a few words here and there, and definitely some stolen glances. This particular day was the beginning of something special. After apologizing for the minor collision, he asked me if there was something in particular that I was looking for. I told him the method to my madness and in turn he asked me if I was open to any recommendations. I, of course, accepted. I would have accepted almost anything by him at this point, and that’s when he mentioned The Little Prince.

Typically, I do not judge a book by it’s cover, not in any aspect that you can apply that phrase to. Taking a look at the font cover of this one, however, made me doubt my desire to read this book. It did look a bit adolescent to me, but what did I expect when taking recommendations from an almost complete stranger. That same night I sat on my bed and began reading, and by early the next morning I was finished. I closed the book amazed at the fact that something so small could pack such a big punch.

I walked to the library the next day, all the while planning on how I was going to walk up to him directly, without any pretenses other than to thank him for the recommendation. It’s not everyday that someone impresses me with a good read, and so I walk in. I dropped the book into the “return” bin and scanned the library, wondering where he could be. Maybe in the non-fiction, historical section? Religious or Spiritual isle? Or maybe in the cooking section? I couldn’t find him, but it didn’t take him long to find me.

He asked me out on a date that day. I was over the moon. I had always thought I would meet the man of my dreams in a library, and walah! It happened. From the night of our first date, we were inseparable. I found a lot of joy sharing my time with him, as we both learned and experience so much with one another. The tragedy didn’t come for months later, but it was one that I saw coming, hoping in silence that it wouldn’t. I was to return back home after a year of not being able to get my life together there. It had all been so hard, much harder than I ever thought it would be. Jobs were scarce and those that I was able to obtain never lasted long. They were either temp jobs or paid peanuts. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how little I tried to eat, no matter the times I would sit in my home with all the lights off, trying to conserve any bit of electricity I could, I never had enough money to cover life in CA. I had two major heartbreaks that year, leaving CA, and leaving him behind.

After having to deliver the news of my return home, the weeks following that were filled with happiness draped in a woven quilt of sadness. We tried to make sure that we relished in every moment that we spent together, but as the days would turn into darkness, the feeling became more desolate, each day being one day closer to that of me leaving.

On the last day that we spent together, we did nothing remarkably special. We went to our favorite burger joint, the one where we went to the day after I first spent the night and morning with him. We rode around the neighborhoods in his El Camino, taking in the last bit of Cali streets I would be seeing in what I knew would be a long time, if ever again. That night we hung out in his bedroom, and after a while of listening to music and reminiscing of our times together he mentioned that he had something for me. I closed my eyes and once reopened, there in front of me, was the library copy of The Little Prince.

Fast forward to earlier this week when I was cleaning out my room, I began dusting the books that lined the walls of my bedroom. Dusting was something that I hadn’t done the last time I cleaned, which is probably why I hadn’t noticed the book there before. The moment I saw it and picked it up, my heart skipped a beat and slightly sunk. So many memories resurfacing, pulling at my heart, instances that I had thought I tucked away so many years ago. I brushed of the dusty cover and opened the book, and there on the inside cover was the quote…

“But she in herself is more important than all of you because she is the one I watered. Because she is the one I put a glass dome. Because she is the one I sheltered behind a screen. Because it is for her that I killed caterpillars (all except for two or three who were to become butterflies). Because she is the one I have listened to, complaining, or boasting, or sometimes when she says nothing. Because she is my rose.”

Immediately after reading this, I felt almost every emotion one can feel. Happiness and sadness. Anger. Guilt. After leaving CA, it wasn’t long when I had slowly started to cease communication with him. I had been depressed. I felt as though CA was such a painful experience that I just couldn’t continue to remember. I knew I had, too, broken his heart and I didn’t feel ok in knowing that by keeping in touch, I could be hurting him even more. Before I knew it, communication completely stopped, and even though I have since reached out on a number of occasions, our talks have never been longer than just a couple sentences.

By the time I wanted to try to save even a friendship, it had been too late. I lost him.

If I could tell him anything, I would tell him how sorry I was to have let our friendship go silent. I made a mistake by closing a chapter in my life that was too painful to continue reliving and by doing so, I lost one very important highlight of what once was a time so cold. I’ve never forgotten, nor will ever forget what it was to have a person like you on my team, making some of my best memories in CA being shared with one very special Little Prince, that one who got away.

A COV(ert)ID Silverlining

~ Natal Galvan

When all of this “virus” chatter began, I will admit that I wasn’t fully convinced at the gravity of it all. I blame our government and media outlets for that. They have broken my trust on many levels, so pardon me that it took me some time to believe what was being said. Lucky for me I learned at a young age to look outside of mainstream media sources and to dig deeper when seeking out the truth. Slowly I began to ingest what was truly going on and instead of brushing it off as, once again, another media-driven hysteria, I began to heed what was being warned. For me, it went from being “virus” chatter to serious virus talk.

I am currently on day 8 of our “official” lockdown and although I have been able to see friends and family periodically, it was only in the last three days that I have chosen to completely isolate myself, and not for the reasons that you may think. 

Amid all the calamity this virus has brought to our front doors, I’d like to think of all this as a necessary evil for society and what’s left of this starving planet Earth.

I might get shit for calling this pandemic a “necessary evil”. How could I say such a thing when so many people have died? But like a war, a battle being fought for the greater good, it has its deaths by the thousands of the guilty and of the innocent alike; it is exactly that, war. This type of war, however, isn’t to bring together land and eradicate manmade borders. This war is an internal war, not only physically but spiritually and emotionally. It’s a war to remind us of where we came from. It’s a war for time, because humanity needed time. Humanity needed a break from it all.

The last three days have been filled with a lot of self-reflection. I’ve been taking a look inside myself, asking myself questions, and having discussions that I should’ve had long ago. I limited my T.V time and within the silence, I have found sparks of creativity. I’m able to connect with nature better and I even feel as though the Universe speaks to me louder and more clearly without all the every day static I had grown conditioned to. I have learned to be a little more resourceful and a lot less wasteful. I’ve become more aware of the immediate things I must change to improve who I am.  I’ve become aware of the things I will gradually give up in order to live my version of a better life.

Some people end up finding themselves while lost at sea. Some find themselves after veering off track and getting lost in the wilderness. We have been given the chance to find ourselves within the confines (and comfort) of our own home. We have been given that extra bit of vacation time. We have been given the chance to learn from crisis hoarders, that greed leads you nowhere other than to the land of Overloaded and Nowhere To Store It.  We have been given extra time with our family, with our pets, with our crafts. We have been given the space to work on ourselves; the time to detox from everything that has been pumped into our senses.

I have read that for us here in the U.S it’s only going to get worse before it gets better. I also hear that “getting better” still means that we’re going to be set back about a decade.  Whether any of that is true or not, I don’t know. We’ll call it what it is, speculation. I say that if at the end of all of this there is more genuine happiness within homes all around the world, genuine happiness within our own home, and with one’s self than I’ll pay that price. In the end, we are all going to be going through it together and there is comfort in that. This is a covert opportunity to change humanity in wonderful ways if only we begin to choose love before greed. We have the ability to rebuild a stronger and better world by going through such adversity together. I wish that through all if this social distancing and social isolation, after all the souls who have passed on because of this virus, we end up choosing to do good to one another.

“We will have suffered together, we will have fought through it together, and we will overcome together.”