Confundidos pensamientos primaverales de cuarto de siglo

Considero que soy mas grande de lo que mi cuerpo contiene.
O si no mas grande, si mas difusa.
La relación entre mi misma y mis manos contiene mucha densidad.
La distancia entre mi misma y una taza contiene mas densidad.
Siento que estoy entrando en la atmósfera molecular de lo que contiene o lo que es.
Me siento interactuando.
Mas bien, me imagino interactuando de formas que van siempre un poco mas allá de lo que acostumbra mi ambiente a en realidad hacer.
Me imagino llevando mis músculos, mi grasa, mis órganos a diferentes lugares.
Los imagino desplazándose cuando corro, cuando salto.
Cargándolos, pero también jugando con ellos y explorando lo que pueden hacer.
Me siento explorando relaciones biológicas matemáticas, físicas y filosóficas en las actividades rutinarias.
Puede ser que no logre avances teóricos importantes en ninguna de estas áreas.
He aprendido que quizás no es mi labor.
Ahora escribo esto y me pregunto porque. Por qué no es mi labor.
Y sorprendentemente la primera razón que se me viene a la mente es porque “soy mujer”.
No es culturalmente aceptado en mi entorno el tipo de comportamientos que sé que tendría y que tendría que adoptar más radicalmente si decidiera llevar a cabo algunas ideas que procurarían ser un aporte teórico a ciertas materias.
Retraerme del mundo suena maravilloso para observar de un modo aún mas longitudinal mi existencia y marcar hitos de mi paso por esta realidad.
Pero no sería valorado pues ya hoy se me demanda mas interacción. Ahora, que estoy haciendo un esfuerzo consiente de mejorar mis habilidades y conexiones sociales.
Sinceramente mi cuerpo y mis átomos han sido definidos por la relación espacial y temporal que he tenido con otros individuos con sus cuerpos con sus almas y con los objetos que ellos han creado.
Desarrollé lealtad y amor, y son algo que quiero seguir desarrollando.
Y creo que decidiré seguir teniendo.
Amor.
El amor me permite observar y por ende crear más altas cosas, más bellas cosas.
Mis ojos se han visto atraídos a la contemplación estética desde que experimentaron la belleza neta.
Desde siempre.
Y vuelven a ella, a buscarla y seguirla constantemente.
Quiero que mi mundo tenga amor.
La forma de belleza máxima .
De luz máxima.
Aun mi alma se ve tentada a retraerse y volar en el mundo teórico atemporal.
Donde la mente es el único vehículo, el único viaje y el único destino.
Y no se aun que debo hacer ….
Trotar. Ahora, debo salir a trotar. Eso sé.
Vamos al viento y quizás el me traiga algunas conclusiones consigo.
O al menos algunas pistas.
A por él.

Passion, Peace & the dance in between.

(Speech done at the 2016 GCC of the Melton Foundation in Chile)

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I am May Garces member of the Melton Foundation since 2005 and I am here not to show a specific project, but a little reflection about the projects I’ve done with the support of the MF.
I only have 10 minutes so let’s see if I can do this.

I have been awarded more than 10 scholarships in recent years to implement ideas that align with the values of the Foundation: mutual respect, global citizenship and intellectual curiosity and their areas of focus that are sustainability, equality and diversity.
My projects and the projects that I have participated in, are mostly related to education, the arts, community development and decision making. Moreover, I have to say that these scholarships have allowed me to explore some personal hypothesis that I have about life and to channel my thoughts and feelings productively.
So I am deeply grateful
The Melton Foundation has truly been a psychedelic experience for me. By psychedelic I mean “mind revealing” (for its etymological root). I have been able to make visible the thoughts inside my head. I have turned inside out and I can understand more clearly.

From a scholarship that took me to Greece to explore History with friends from India, China and Chile; to learning different approaches to music theory and the physics of sound in India; to confronting stereotypes in Chile; to work with different communities of artists from around the world to have confidence in the power of seduction of art in us humans, I have been able to explore and live my questions.
Now how cool is that?! …
… it makes me wonder, why have I felt the need to do all this?
Well, maybe you can see that I am an intense person. I was a passionate girl and I have never wanted that to change. But this passion has not always been positive. Passion can be constructive or destructive.
And THIS is what I want to talk a little today.

The energy that drives our projects.

Is the quality of our intentions  important when making projects? Does it affect their impact? … These are interesting questions that I do not have the complete answer to yet.

I can say that not all of my projects were motivated by the joy and curiosity, but some projects did, just to save myself.

Once, I was so deeply sad that I realized that doing a project with other people was what I needed to save my year. I really really I wanted to stop living. I was not angry or upset. I just felt nothing. Just felt something pulling me down; slowing me down to a state of peace. And I longed for the peace and thought it was time to have it. I thought it was time to rest in peace. Since my childhood I have been aware of this reality: that one day we will all return to…peace. In this moment of sadness, I just longed for that peace to come faster.
See…emotions are confusing sometimes. We panic, because things do not go as expected, but sometimes we just have to wait a little longer to understand what it all means to discover wonderful things. So in the meantime, we have to lengthen the time. Stall. Make time happen faster.

In a lucid moment, I felt the need to save myself and saw that people around me were motivated to make a project and include me in it, so I grabbed this opportunity tightly and we did the project. I can now look back and say “well, at least I did something useful with my time!” “at least I will remember these projects as benchmarks of things I love and respect, instead of remembering these other things, these other problems, that do not define me. ” That I did not want to be defined by.
We can transform our negative emotions into positive actions.

The truth is that what you create, creates you back. The ideas that you practice
inform you of who you are. Of our strengths and your weaknesses.
If you want to have memorable and meaningful learnings you have to include yourself and commit your feelings into what you’re doing. And it will hurt. But as Albert Camus would say: “Life should live to the point of tears”…
Isn’t it amazing that we can do this as Melton fellows? We agree on common values and we can be intentional in making them real. And we have to make them real, because they are so difficult to live by every single day !!

Last week I was in Colombia where I learnt about the dismantling of the “hell on earth” that was “the Bronx” neighborhood in Bogota, where they used to kill people and cut them up in pieces and made  their bodies disappear by melting them in acid …. and it only makes me think that these could have been my hands. That there are some of us humans who get their pleasure from oppressing others, from the destruction of others.
Those could have been my hands, but they are not, and I’m happy for that. I am responsible for that. We are responsible for the fact that we can get pleasure from things that help others and not things that destroy others. We are now able to use our brains to decide, we are able to use this prefrontal cortex of ours that allows us to make complex decisions to design activities and people and environments that make us the person we think we are or the person we want to become.
We have this space, and these similar-minded organizations to channel our good and bad passions, and it is a privilege that we need to continue sharing.
Looking from a distance in this 25th anniversary, I see certain patterns emerging, some choreography in team dynamics, some dancing in my motivation, a fluctuating impact of the things I’ve done and their improvement has something to do with listening. With the noticing. With perception.
What’s going on? in and outside of me? … Who is moving? Who is making new choreographies? Should I copy their footsteps? Should I make my own dance?
Listen out. Notice.
With my projects I have wanted to explore the truth of my own passion and decide with which movements I want to be associated with. I have found these collaborations in the most unlikely places.
For example now I work with:
A group of physical educators working on embodied cognition and empathy.
A group of mathematicians who study the metaphors that emerge in artistic forms in the classroom,
A group of social workers who apply creative processes as a way to heal traumatic experiences
with many groups of artists who express the thoughts of their communities in powerful ways, and I have been able to contact them because of the projects I’ve done in the Melton Foundation. I have worked with them because my projects speak of my interests and relate to their problems.
I can now look back now and things make a little sense and my invitation is to use this anniversary to notice, to listen, to reflect:
Where is your curiosity leading you? Where is your passion leading you? Where is your pain leading you?…
… All these emotions are energy, motivation. We don’t need to be afraid of them, they can also take you to do good things.
And you should do good things. Because they can save you sometimes when you long for peace to come before, you will be able to find this peace in the honesty of your own story.
As leaders and communities of concerned people, we need to work intentionally with these dynamics in mind so that our efforts will result in a truly promising future.
“Those who love peace must learn to organize as effectively as those who love war ‘Martin Luther King Jr.said very wisely.
We are on this dance floor together. Let’s listen to the music, let’s understand how it is moving us, let’s communicate between us and let’s choreograph a great show.

I can’t wait.

Wisdom tells me I’m nothing…

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Recuerdo que en el segundo cuando pase por este lugar y tome esta foto, me imagine que yo era una de esas niñas y esa señora era mi abuelita.

Me invadió una emoción muy amplia, que no fue necesariamente negativa o positiva sino intensa; como cuando me doy cuenta que mi vida pudo haber estado dictada por esas características, esos vestidos, esos olores, ese barro en mis pies, esas obligaciones, y siento una terrible nostalgia de algo que no he vivido, melancolía de dolores que no comprendo, vergüenza de mis pensamientos irrelevantes, desesperación por teorías inconclusas que palpitan diariamente pero no encuentran descanso.

Y respiro.

Y sonrío.

Porque vuelvo a ver mis manos.

Los recovecos que ni yo conozco,

los matices en rosado.

Mi vision se abre a lo que esta pasando,

a los humanos que respiran a mi lado.

Y con la garganta apretada abrazo mi presente estado.

Respiro.

Y finalmente,

me rio.

Kisses or time?

Frankfurt airport 2013
I have a lot of german stories. Here goes a fun one.
So, This was my last day in germany. I was in the airport walking around waiting to do the check in to come back home. I saw a guy from behind the display of his coffee shop smiling at me, I did not respond. I sat on a bench in the middle of the hall and started reading my notebook, organizing my time for the flight. 20 minutes might have passed. I stand up, take the cart, start walking to explore other parts of the airport. When I am 100 mts away from the sitting place I hear someone running towards me. It was the guy that smiled at me. He asks me where I come from,when is my flight, what am I doing later.

I smile politely.

I am from Chile. He is from Albania. I had never met someone from Albania. I keep smiling. I told him I’m just walking. He invites me to go for a coffee and after finding out I have to wait about 3 hours more he wants me to go with him to know the city. I smile very big and say “Thank you! but no thank you, I rather stay in the airport because I can’t risk missing my flight”. Smile.

He insists a couple of times I am really thankful for his attention but decided. Smile. I feel really happy that someone goes out of his daily routine just to talk to me. That is nice. He asks me to wait for him for 15 minutes until he gets off of work. I evaluate in my head that I really have nothing else to do and I show him where I am going to be sitting while I draw people. That’s what I was what I was planning to do anyways.

20 minutes later he returns, he sits next to me (I stand) and tells me he can’t get off of work. He asks me to sit. I sit. He says “give me a kiss” I smile politely and say “aww I’m not your girl I’m sorry, I’m not going to kiss you”. Why not? -he says. “Because kisses are important for me. You should ask somebody else”. Smile. “But it is only one kiss”(he says pointing at his lips) I stand. “Because I don’t know you, because you don’t know me, why would you want to kiss me?”-I say. “Because you are nice”… “Well thank you, I think I understand that better with words that with a kiss”. I smile. “You seem nice but I am going to walk now, if you want you can join me and we can talk. That’s all I can offer you”. I say.
“Ok I understand”, he says “but let me buy you a coffee as friends, only as friends”. I said yes because I like coffee. 🙂

We go to his coffee place and he gives me a gigantic cappucino. We exchange a few words, I ask him about his country we joke and I start making him a portrait. While I do that he makes faces like insinuating to kiss me.
20 minutes pass by and I have finished the portrait. He has to take something to another place and I take that opportunity to leave the portrait with a a little note.

“Words and Time are so much precious than a kiss. Thank you!”

Maycita’s brain under the effects of edible cannabis

Ñuñoa, Santiago, Chile.
So this is my first time experiencing the effects of medicinal marihuana.
I’m 30 and yes, I like to wait for the time when I think I am ready for experiences, rather than do them when people tell me I should.
Like awesome african american social reformer Frederick Douglas once said:
“I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and to incur my own abhorrence.”

Anyhow, I disliked the entire experience.
My body sensation did not become enhanced (seeing brighter colors or hearing colors differently like some texts say) neither I had hallucinations ( which is a situation I have experienced while meditating or praying)
But what did happen was this:
I ate a leaf and herbal water of cannabis and turmeric and 1/3 of a little delicious cannabis cake at 6pm on Thursday 15 of April because I had read a lot about the incredible medicinal effects of the plant and was in a lot of pain. There are many people I respect that like the medicinal and creative effects of this plant, so I thought it could help me heal my costocondritis that wasn’t allowing me to move freely like I usually do. Although I was never too interested in the creative effects of the plant because I think it is like cheating. And as I said before, I like to think I am true to myself. At least true to the self I am most of the time.

But back to the story, at 6pm I was eating and reading about the effects of edible cannabis in my computer and of course was not feeling anything. The page said that the effects are felt from 30min to some hours later. At 6:27 pm my mom called me and we talked well just until the last comment I said. I was building up a sentence in my brain and as I was saying it, the end of the sentence disappeared.

That was the first symptom I noticed. To forget my point or what I was going to say usually happens to me so I don’t think my mom noticed too much, but I noticed it took me longer than usual to recall my point and what I was saying. I will ask her if she noticed.
This made me worry a little bit because it felt like I didn’t have control of my train of thought which of course would affect my speech. Interesting.
Anyhow, I went back to the chair in the living room where I was working and some minutes later I started to feel some stronger effects. Looked at the clock. 7:02. It makes sense.
I felt like I was not in control of my corporal experience so I thought I had to take some measures to protect myself just in case I got too lost. I started to google, “worst things that can happen when high” “edible cannabis side effects” “safest place to be while high” etc.
Something interesting is that there is always an “I” in this experience. All the time I was consciously trying to grab on some reality signs as much as I could because at moments it felt like this reality was fading away. I know some people will say that you just had to let go and not fight it but I couldn’t. I had things to do, I had to create reality here.

At this time, I was feeling it strongly, the time perception being diluted, my breathing slowing down, so I took all my things, as silently as I could, and went to my room. Sat in the bed, my stomach was hurting a lot so I thought a good idea was to vomit everything I ate. That’s a great idea! Went to the bathroom but remembered that it is SO difficult for me to vomit!  I still tried and tried until I could vomit a little but not enough.
I had read before that it is good to be in company of people you trust and I was in the house with a friend who had also ate the delicious little cake and the last thing I wanted was to interact with someone else that also had a distorted sense of reality.

I had to go to my brothers apartment anyways so I took all my things as fast as I could (I did not know myself in this side of anxiety) and went outside.
Before leaving my friend asked me: Are you ok?” “Yes!” i replied.”Did the cake made effect?” “Yes”, I replied again “so I prefer to be with my brother” and I walked away fast.
I notice that It was better for me to move. Somehow the stimulus from my muscles kept reinforcing reality inside of my body. I was trying to calm myself, knowing that this was normal but that still made me feel so very uncomfortable.
“Ay ay ay maycita” was my internal dialogue. “You had to work today maycita but you can’t do anything like this! Ay ay ay” “No Facebook, no mails and not talking to people, ok?”

People say I act high naturally in life and maybe I do, I will go into a shop just to look and be immersed in my thoughts and leave. Or I will talk to myself or sing my actions… yep, I probably look high to many people. I feel very free in my life, always challenging unnecessary social pressure or norms if they conflict with my purposes. I usually monitor my thoughts and actions as an exercise to be very present in my experiences and mold me into a person that loves more, collaborates more, and values more the moments I am alive…
What happened with cannabis though is that I could not trust in any of the emotions I was feeling, I was questioning them from the moment they were developing in my brain, catching my attention at a certain moment and so I found myself emulating what I knew for sure about what was my “normal” behaviour in public (which is most of the times not normal at all). At this point I was going to the subway. I looked at myself in the glass of one of the subway windows and saw my silly eyes opened halfway resembling the look people get when they are stoned. “You look so dumb Maycina…”

I was noticing the time experience changing from moment to moment. I thought that it was the effect of the waves of hormones being secreted from my brain because it had that beating rhythm. I was taking notice of this in my brain and thought that a good strategy to remain focused in the things I had to do, was to reinforce and refresh my internal “to do list” faster than usual. But time seemed to move sooo slowly.

“We are walking, that is good” This is a thought I have daily so I just had to stay on track of my daily internal narrative to not be distracted by other thousand connections my brain was suggesting. “The BIP card does not have money, let´s go recharge” I can get distracted very very easily in life so this internal conversation is so normal to me. I just was finding that my brain was a little bit more difficult to manage. Maybe the THC was too potent in the herbal tea and brownie I ate. “Who likes to feel like this??!” I asked myself trying to look or an answer… maybe people who have problems relaxing but I am a survivor of PTSD so I have my strategies. I don’t need to feel like this. I imagined at this point that maybe the THC potency had messed with my myelin shealth and so making the nervous impulses in my brain to speed up and slow down with a seemingly random pattern. I don’t know how true is this but I thought it was interesting to note.

When I got to my brothers’ I sat down and looked for things to do in silence. I decided to ask him how he was and the tone of my voice sounded fake I disliked it. I stayed in silence. I told him what had happened and he said that I was over reacting. That gave me the hint I should indeed, not talk about this. We watched some videos and I reacted to some of them but was criticizing everything I was doing. I did like to know that I could come to my brother’s place actually. It felt safe and It is so very hard for me to trust people.

Some conclusions: In my case, it was counterproductive to eat marihuana to heal my cartilage inflamation when having to do things afterwards. It didn´t help with the pain and my brain was more paranoid than it usually is. I am glad I have strategies to control my emotions of panic or anxiety feelings,so I know how to use them, but I hated to waste so much more time in trying to control myself.

I was successful I think, and I was surprised by it. I figured out that I was not going to become overwhelmed if I just focused on the next right move. That’s all I needed. Simplicity Maycita. I started to sing to myself some songs from my childhood. and I could come back to reality with different strategies.
I was like “calm down little brain everything will be ok”

I disliked the experience because it made me criticize myself and others, edit myself constantly (more than usual) and that is not good. I have much more fun with little stimuli. I have always known this so I have to keep taking note of it.
Remember Maycina:
I am an introvert who can get high very easily on breathing air! or on just being alive today, on seeing a fuss flying through the air and catching a ray of light. That is me. I don’t need more stimuli.
Coffee also makes me tremble and a little confused. Bananas make me very energetic. I am hipersensitive so I design my experiences in order not to overwhelm myself unnecesarily.
I have strategies, I have rules to function in society and with myself as honestly as I can. As free as I feel.
Cannabis doesn’t help ME to be free at least 🙂 it’s a nice plant but not all natural things are good for me 🙂 Wheat is also a plant that is not good for me for example.
I think I will keep getting my “highs” from singing, dancing, writing and painting thank you very much.

And when I am here, in this conscious shared reality,  I will really try to be here, present in the fascinating/ awe filled moments of this life so that I don’t evaporate into the air with my thoughts too easily, which is where my brain tends to naturally lead me.

A cinderella story (from my 2013 travelogue)

Turnich Castle park, Kerpen, Germany https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tpfz-g3IQpA
So many things have happened in this Cinderella story.
Today for example I saw a young deer before sunrise (it was the most beautiful ever) from the kitchen window. What a precious thing to witness these sunrises and sunsets in the woods. It’s a privilege that hurts with delicious pain in my through and nutritious tears in my eyes.
Yesterday I jogged in the night. What a glorious night. So clear and fresh. the moon was showing me were to place my feet, delicately, sweetly, whispering… because she wanted me to pay attention and to long for it’s light. He wanted me to be there. And I was. Fully. Being guided blindly by his kind voice through the darkness.
And today…the sun. stunning. Painting rosy glossy colors in the sky so that I can smile at the fact that I don’t see that color really…that I create that color in my head to compensate my electromagnetic disability. And I compensate it well with this fabulous color…to look what I like…when I’m too weak to see what I cannot see.
Today I worked, I cooked healthy meals for my family just as yesterday. and went to my sprachttandem walking through the castle which looked more beautiful than ever in the sun… today it wasn’t cold at all and I loved it. What a joy. I went out without a jacket.
Today they came to fix the piano so that the little one can rehearse better and the other little one keeps improving at the violin. Slowly but surely.
I went to Koln and ate too many sweets but that will be fixed later. Now I will sleep. with a smile on my face…waiting not to be scared tomorrow. Or to be brave in the face of it. Truly brave.
Let’s hope.

Sonrisas y pequeñas conversaciones en Alemania 2013

Esa cromi es conducida por un señor de Kosovo con quien me fui conversando los 30 minutos de viaje. Parada al lado suyo conversando….

Me contó acerca del conflicto politico en Kosovo y porque habia emigrado. Hablamos de discriminación y del por qué de la vida, de la importancia de vivir hoy de sonreir y orar por estar respirando hoy …respirando el mismo aire que otra persona y hablamos de como hay que valorarla con tanta misericordia como nos deberiamos valorar a nosotros mismos porque lo mas probable es que terminemos de respirar este aire que compartimos… un dia.
He tenido conversaciones similares con immigrantes de Somalia, Irán e Irák en situaciones parecidas…y los conflictos que se ven en television o que se oyen en la radio se me vuelven mas cercanos porque son “de verdad”…”yo tengo una amiga irani que es parte de un grupo folfklorico y ya no tiene a nadie de su familia viviendo en su país” o “conoci a una niña de Somalia que solo tiene a un tio anciano viviendo en su antigua ciudad. Todos han emigrado porque el conflicto entre pueblos es insostenible y el gobierno es tan solo una pantalla que no tiene control de los problemas de la poblecion”. “Tengo un amigo de irak que es huerfano y ahora es vendedor de un puesto de comida rapida turca por causa de la falta de seguridad que tenia el y su hermano cuando pequeños”.
Son historias que son como la mia…(aunque a simple vista no podrian ser mas diferentes..) y por esas cosas de la empatia se sienten como heridas superficiales abiertas que aunque no son mortales, duelen y arden y te hacen recordarlas con regularidad y que piden a gritos unguentos que desinfecten las areas comprometidas, que propicien la regeneracion de los tejidos,y que calmen el dolor.

Le agradeci a mi amigo-conductor-de-Kosovo-sin-nombre tan maravillosa conversación y le entregue una gerbera blanca que me habia encontrado botada antes de subir a la micro.

Y sonreímos.

Otras cosas que encontre en mi diario en Alemania 🙂
hoy lei 😀 y sali a trotar y a explorar el bosque vi una ardilla naramja y ella me vio a mi 🙂 segui corriendo cruce el canal y me fui por unsendero sin pavimentar me fui por los cerros y empece a andar en puntllas para que mis pasos no fueran tan pesados y parece que funciono porque iba saltando por los caminos de barro en puntillas y de pronto dos venados salieron corriendo de entre unos matorrales! estaban muy cerca mio pero supongo que habian creido que era un animal menos pesado.
Y ya 3 chinitas se han posado sobre mi en Alemania. Es invierno y sin embargo me han encontrado exitosamente. 🙂 yo les doy un beso y les pido que se cuiden 🙂

Ayer 1 de Enero, 7 personas me hablaron en la calle. 7. Las conte. Entre ellos un tipo que me agarro de la chaqueta y me hablaba mucho. Muy raro. Quizas estaban todos curaos por las celebraciones 🙂 quizas.