Today I woke up around 3:30. Nothing new since usually I tend to wake up around 2:30 or 3:30 and then I go back to sleep. True that sometimes I am not able to go back and sleep again. Menopause side effect in full force. It still happens, but not that frequently anymore. 🙏 Anyways, the view from my bed when I opened my eyes (and removed my sleeping mask) was this gorgeous, glowing full moon. Looking bright, shining, so close yet so far. She was staring at me, smiling at me, bathing me, watching over me. That was the feeling. I felt embraced, taken care of, caressed. At the same time I was amazed by the beauty and the power of nature, of our lovely Universe.
I inhale deeply that view of this beautiful and bold moon and I could not help but put a huge smile on my face, on my soul. It uplifted me, unexpectedly. It gave me a sense of hope, a sense of everything is gonna be alright if not now, eventually. Because little things in life can make a difference. Just like that, just like magic if we open up ourselves to it. Beauty and hope are everywhere, in everything around us. We just have to see it with a fresh, early morning eyes.
Because sometimes, that is how we are all gonna feel. Regardless what the feeds we follow on Social Media are telling us. Nobody is happy and enjoying life all the frakking time. Some times we are simply not OK. And it is OK to feel that way.
Some times we are not OK for something simple and minor like a bad hair day, but other times we are not OK for something deeper and sadder like grieving or losing a job… Other times are for some thing in between. It really doesn’t matter the reason or how deep or shallow it is.
What truly matters is to mantra this: It is OK not to be OK. Trust me. We are allow to it. After all we are humans not superheroes. And we don’t even have to hide it from the world as if it is something that only happens to us or something we should feel ashamed for it. Cause we know, it doesn’t and there is nothing to be ashamed of. Right? Right?
Every now and then and all over again, I feel that way too. I have ups and downs, highs and lows and some times it can be a huge fall. That kind that keeps in the low place for a while. I feel like a mess inside out, outside in. Oh, how I crave to go back to my OK place… And usually there is nothing that I can do to reset my mood that quick. By magic? Never works. Hehehe All I can humanly do is to take some time out there, in there, let it be, embrace it, have my back, keep on breathing and just wait for the next day….
Or days… Cause it will go away. And I know it. Or at least will become bearable soon. And when it does I hope I got the message this time: learn from it and learn to appreciate, value, treasure and enjoy even more my OK moments. Like never before. And let things flow knowing that another not OK moment will come and it is totally OK. Cause I will be OK. Eventually. Again.
And yes, sometimes not being OK will require an extra help. From someone, a friend, a psychologist, a psychiatric, a holistic therapist… and that is OK too. Remember? We are not superheroes, we are just humans with all sort of moments. With ups and downs, highs and lows. Reach for help. We are not here to deal with everything, all the time, by ourselves. Some times, we will need assistance. From others. And it is OK too. This will not make any less of anyone. Au contraire. It requires a lot of bravery to reach out for that help when we need.
Plus, even Batman needs Robin, every now and then…
True that Social Media is definitely not my cup of tea and Instagram is probably my least favorite of them all but hey, I am trying. And if you wanna help me on that, follow me over there @fabafter47.
There I post about my personal style, my personal stylist life, my cats, my trips, my favorite things, my spiritual journey, myself. Actually I am using Instagram to reconnect with my passion with fashion, my passion to dress up. Since I know myself that getting ready to go out for a party, an event, a job, whatever was always my favorite part. Loved the whole process. The event itself… not so much. I am not a very social person, that is why.
And yet, putting myself together used to be fun. And I miss that. Now things are more robotic in this area for me. I just grab something in my closet, pick a bag, a shoe/sandals, wear my basic non-makeup makeup and go for the same accessories as I usually do. No sparkling in my eyes, no soul warming on that.
A pity. That I hope is about to be over.
Anyways, if you show up there, don’t forget to say hi, so I can follow you back.
Almost 20 years ago, I lost my brother to an unexpected pulmonary embolism. He was only 28. Last year I lost one of my best friends to cancer. It was a brave and painful battle. She was only 46.
My brother and my friend never knew each other, but they both shared one thing in common: they were both full of life. They were both that kind of person that you could say they knew how to live. Oh, yeah, they did! And they enjoyed every single moment of it. Life for them was precious and treasured. A joy, an on going party or celebration. A means to experience different things. Some times not that easy, but always worth living.
When I had to deal with their losses I could not help but to wonder why life ended so soon for them. Why two people who actually exhale life and enjoyed so much being alive had to die while I, a person who seems to struggle with every breathe I take, am still here, not living but just surviving. I know it is never fair to compare and that the neighbor’s grass is always greener, but it is such a brutal contrast that it is unavoidable. Why someone like me is still here and they are not? How come?
And no, I haven’t come up with an answer yet but right now I am guessing I am still here because I have a lesson or two to learn on how to live and enjoy every single moment of it. A lesson in how to enjoy the strawberries, lemons and the blueberries. A lesson to treasure my experiences and make the most of each one of them. A lesson to enjoy living, not only surviving.
For the last few days every time I sit down to blog (here and at my other blogs Been Caught Styling), blank is all I see in mind. I cannot think of any subject that I want to write about. And yes, I have a pretty long list of possible topics, but the thing is I don’t feel inspired to write about anything that is on those lists. And because of it, I don’t. It feels like no words are coming to me to write. It is a total and honest blank.
The same happens with my other writings: a screenplay and a book. But here the case is even deeper and more complex. Here I keep on postponing to write because I am terrified to do so. And I can feel it in my bones. It is not only a blank feeling, although it is also. Because every time I consider writing I think it will not be good enough, that my writing sucks, that I will never be able to put into words this story that is playing on my mind nicely for months… And yes, I do think I have a pretty good story. For both cases. And still… here I am stuck, paralyzed, not going anywhere.
And yes, I do have this love-hate feeling when the subject is writing. It is something I would love to do but perfectly and I hate because I always feel it is not going to be good enough, because every time I write, it is not as good as I thought it should be. The process is a struggle. It is never enjoyable and sometimes, I don’t even know how I came up writing something after all. I am that messy.
15 years ago I started blogging on Men’s Style. It was a subject I was passionate about and the fact that I was going to blog every single day made me thought this was the perfect way for me to unblock my writer’s block state of mind. And then finally I would overcome my writing fear and give voice to my stories at last. I blogged for 11 years, every day, basically. And yet, no book or screenplay was written. That never helped me, au contraire, just kept me away from it. What a surprise.
And here I am again, blogging as my way to attempt to make peace with my writing once again so I could finally write my stories and yet… not a single word was typed. Not a surprise.
Repeating patterns is not a new thing for me. Breaking them it is. And that is my goal here. Because deep inside I feel that I need to voice my stories, give life to my screenplay and books. That is what I am suppose to be doing. That is my bliss.
Even if deep inside I do believe I might suck on that.