miércoles, 30 de diciembre de 2015

My 2015 and a friend called Ali




 I have decided to write a recapitulation of each year of my life, I decided this last year.
2015 was definitely a year full of experiences; I could say it was one of the best times of my life. After many ups and downs, 2015 only went uphill.
However, this year I can´t talk only about me; because this year was about bravery and courage, and if I want to explain that, I must mention you.
 I must, because when I dreamt about being brave and helping people or I closed my eyes and imagined myself giving a speech about peace... I honestly had no idea what really took to be a strong person. I only learned that lesson when I met you, so when you asked what was my biggest achievement of the year I had to answer that it was meeting you.
 For those who don't know you… let me tell you about Ali. Ali is from Iraq, born in Bagdad. He is a Shia Muslim, a trait apparently none defining of a human being that actually became a burden for him and his family. Ali believes in God and prays; he also walks to Karbala and fasts in Ramadan. Ali keeps a secret from his family to protect them, a really big one that, in an act of sacrifice, surrenders his being for the being of his loved ones. Very important, Ali loves cats.
Ali is my friend because we met, and for a guy like him and someone like me is simply a miracle to stay visible in one place for long enough to bond. We never decide, we grasp the chances and so we met and became friends. Also, after seeing all those people showing their great acts, Ali simply smiled at life and laughed with me. He, whom had witnessed death and carried a secret, he was being strong and brave by living and not getting or wanting recognition for it. Meanwhile I was just being me and Ali accepted it, which was also great since we were so different; when I was drunk he would listen, when he prayed I waited, when I studied he encouraged me, when he struggled I learned from him. We were different, we met, we became friends.
Last year I lost many things; I lost hope for life mostly. This year I learned to fly and felt no fear. Look at me Ali, are you proud? Last year I loved until I could love no longer and I became empty inside; then I saw how much you have been through and was inspired. Last year I closed my eyes hoping to never see light, this year I prayed again because I feared but also because I was thankful.
I learned something very important for the future Ali. I learned that love is to be able to show our weaknesses and not be ashamed. Life happened to me last year, but I learned to carry it with me as humility. I learned about myself that all I want is a motive bigger than me; I would jump into the void for it. You are lucky because you have God, but I yet need to find my faith.
I want to tell you something, I still have a lot of passion in me. I feel intense hate sometimes for all the pain; I can´t sleep when bombs are flying, when small coffins are buried, when idiots decide to attack the wrong city. Because it´s always the wrong city and it will always be. That´s why I admire you, because despite your reality you smile and I cry. This year I realized a world war is being fought in the Middle East, not called as such because it´s there and not here.
I want to tell you another secret. I wished I had buried my little cat under a tree to have a place where I could go and cry and may be pray. That pain will never go away, but in my heart that seed became a flower, warn and sweet.
When I started writing this, it was supposed to be about last year, it then transformed into a letter to a friend and lastly in a story about myself. All three are part of me as one big ocean. Ali, me and life, like water, like al-Bahar.
To end, I want to make a list of wishes for next year:
1.      I wish the war ends for all and no other will ever start again
2.      I wish your secret ends and sets you free
3.      I wish for us to meet again
4.      I wish to speak in your same tongue
5.      I wish to fall in love so hard I find myself in another´s eyes
6.      I wish to pursue a goal so far and never lose my ground
7.      I wish to find my faith
8.      I wish we create a little peace of mind for some
CRO
PS. My gift is this, because my father played it every year to me:

martes, 15 de diciembre de 2015

Escribir en los aviones

Escribir en los aviones...

Y despedir el año y los años, y las estrellas y las noches. Envejecer en los aviones mientras creces y regresas un poco más viejo, más callado, más reflexivo y a la vez más lleno del mundo y de ti misma. Volando entiendo lo vivido, lo acepto mientras llego o regreso o me voy; comprendo que me quiero o que me odio, que la soledad no existe, que lo que me callo se guarda y lo que grito es un regalo. Volar ya no es una espera, es un preámbulo necesario para llegar preparados, cerrar ideas, entender amores, empezar a extrañar y crear expectativas. Viajar ligera de equipaje y cargada de recuerdos, soy todo lo que llevo, lo que dejo, lo que quiero, lo que busco, lo que no espero encontrar y me encuentra, soy un viaje y el vuelo y el tiempo, ese tiempo que toma llegar o irse, siempre conmigo. 

Por eso me da por escribir en los aviones... Y por tomar y soñar mucho, sobre todo lo último y lo primero y un poco lo segundo; es un viaje en todas direcciones y sentidos que llega pero no se acaba, que me duele un poco y me da vida. 

Un solo camino me asfixiaría, volar es lo más valioso que tengo; una posibilidad abierta, tomada o soñada o desconocida pero presente, real, escondida. Vivir es volar, vivir es pensar, vivir es amarme, amar ser capaz de sentir y de imaginar. Vivir es poder llorar y reír y por sobre todas las cosas poder tener más de un camino para elegir en donde aterrizar los sueños.