Tag Archives: Love

This new moon I am releasing many, many things, burdens, weights, expectations, and so on. I am releasing the desire to be desired, to be wanted or to be liked. I am choosing to allow myself to just be, above all, and to never sacrifice my needs for the sake of feeling wanted. I want myself to remember that how other people feel about me should carry no weight in the way that I feel about myself because I am the only one who knows me in and out. We are all so complex, each living our own complicated existence. What makes being a human on this earth so neat is that while we are all living our own experiences, we are all connected simply because we are here. It really puts things into perspective for me. Tiny we are, but that does not mean insignificant.

This new moon I am setting many, many intentions. For this lunar period, and onward into all of time, I intent to continue to further my quest into my subconscious, to further my self expansion and awareness and to continue to grow physically and mentally as I work to heal inner and generational traumas. I strive to seek love and understanding of those and that around me. I work to leave this world, our earth, better than it was before me. I intend to focus on remaining and expanding my humility. I intend to radiate love and light, and help those around me to uncover theirs. I am always transforming into better versions of my past selves, better daughter, better sister, better friend, better lover, better citizen, better student, better listener, better intellectual. I intent to remind myself that my brain is a muscle that should be treated like any other, and excersised regularly- pushed and challenged.

I am not the smartest person in the room, the nicest, the funniest, the most empathetic. But I intend to work towards being the best I can, as much as I can. Time and will power are my best friends and I intend to exercise my savviness of them. I will keep asking questions, even when I feel silenced. When I see wrong doing, I will speak up, because that is what I would hope for. I intend to remind myself and those around me how much I love them. I intend to practice gratitude on a conscious and subconscious level as I continue to release the grip of materialism and consumerism. I honor my commitments and I will remind myself if I fail, to get back up. To rest, to heal, to listen to my body. And then to do it again. and again. Until I succeed, because I will. Trusting myself is the first step. This is my promise to myself.

I love you, XOXO, MB

My Internal Motivator

Inspired people inspire me,

and the best feeling in the world is watching someone be passionate because I understand that feeling well.

I seek it while I’m awake, and I chase it in my dreams.

I understand why the definition of passion is a “strong and barely controllable emotion”.

Once felt, the mundane becomes unbearable compared to the regard of one’s intrinsic, unique desires.

Seek it out and follow it, a life lived according to another’s man’s beliefs is not a life lived.

Be you, and be you passionately, with love, and you will always be able to get back up.

I love you,

xoxo, MB.

Don’t Forget It

So far, you have survived 100% of the endless nights, those nights that make you waste your 11:11 wish on a better tomorrow. You deserve to be excited to see the sun. She patiently waits for you to rise, she has and will never fail to do so for you. She waits so that she can defrost your body and mind, your heart and soul. Allow yourself to accept her love, it will remind you that you are real, and you are worthy. Wake up for me one more time.

I love you, you got this!

XOXO, MB

When I Fell in Love with the Ground Under my Feet

My parents made sure that I was frequently able to enjoy the outdoors starting from as young as I can remember. As Texas State Alumni, one of my mom and dad’s favorite places to take my brother and I was Texas State’s University Camp. I have many fond early childhood memories of camping along the Blanco, with family and friends. My love for the outdoors was born somewhere in a tent alongside the river. I could write about the time my mom broke her ankle in the river in the middle of the night on my brother's 8th birthday (that was a long night), or about unsuccessfully (thank goodness) attempting to catch water snakes but I won’t. I’m going to be writing about one of my earliest and clearest memories of the great outdoors, one of my favorite memories of my life to this day. 

            I was around the age of eleven, and my family decided that we were going camping early May at University Camp. I can hear my dad reminding me that the months of April and October are always the best times to camp in Texas. We went with our neighbor Allen who we shared a duplex with until I turned six. Allen was like a second father for those few years of my life that he lived next door. The weather was perfect, warm enough to not get too cold after swimming during the days but cool enough to put a flannel on by the fire during the nights. One of my most vivid memories to this day is when we decided to spend our last day floating down the river and soaking up all the last bits of sunshine that we could. I can vividly recall the mangoes that Allen brought for the float, and how perfectly ripe they were. We were floating, talking, and simply spending time taking in the moment. It was so peaceful that day. The only sound around us was our own voices and the slight rustling of the trees from the gentle breeze. As we slowly made our way down the river, my dad recommended that we take a moment of silence, and just listen to our surroundings. As we listened, we were able to hear a bubbling from over near the bank of the river. What could this be? I pondered. We emerged from the river alongside the bank and made our way onto the luscious field of clovers. I crave that feeling to this day, the feeling of the soft and all-knowing earth under my feet. I find chasing this craving has only led to good things. We found the source of the mysterious bubbling sound and my dad moved aside the fresh clovers and lush greenery to reveal the spring. To my surprise, the spring bubbled up to about half a foot tall. Pure, fresh water straight from the ground. Eleven-year-old me was amazed. I remember thinking that it really was possible to just live off the land, and I dreamed that one day I could. We all took turns drinking from the spring. When I texted my dad the other day to see if he remembered the moment as I did, he responded with “that was the best drink of water I ever had.” After we all admired the natural, clean water fountain, we got back in our tubes and continued our way down the river. We eventually got out and made our way back to the campsite to make dinner and hang out by the fire. I excitedly told my mom and the others about what we encountered on our float so that the next day I could take everyone else there.

            I’m not sure if the spring is still findable to this day, it’s been awhile since I’ve been to U-Camp. But I will never forget that memory and the way that day made me feel. Every time I think about it, I get a warm feeling. I’m so grateful that my family was able to imprint their love of the outdoors onto me because nature is the most powerful healing and grounding resource that we have. I can’t wait to experience these kinds of memories with my own kids one day, to just be able to show others how much love comes from taking a moment to appreciate the little things, such as a cold drink from a spring on a hot summer day.

Nightly Stretching Thoughts

Taking care of my body is becoming really important to me because it directly impacts the experience of my life time on this earth the better that I help my little body to feel then the happier I am and now I am beginning to understand people that spend all of their lives focusing on their health and wellness because it is such a great source of little happy endorphins that make ur body vessel able to move around this earth better and more comfortably. Plus it’s cool to be able to sit in the splits.

Book in Progress

This is a project that I began in 2017, and have not since revisited. She is in her original glory and I plan to revise and expand on this further when the time feels right.

He leaned in ever so gently, as if he were going to place a kiss on my waiting lips, but stopped inches from my face. “I need to go,” was not the whisper I wanted, but rather expected. Turning to hide my disappointment, I waved my hand to dismiss him. I don’t know what I expected. I took a long drag from the cigarette I held captive between my middle and pointer finger while looking over the sand and far past the waves crashing into the shore. The door slammed and I sighed. Another day, another dawn. And another failed conversation with a boy I thought I loved.

Two Years Prior

A fragile staircase held together a small two story house that, in the past months, had suddenly seemed to become too big. Her father sat outside watching the moon, and the stars, smoking good weed out of a shitty one hitter, contemplating. Her mother sat inside, emerged in an overflowing bubble bath, silently drunk, her mind too far away from her to grasp onto. Her brother, 13, sat at his computer, the one and only place he liked to be at, trying to forget. She was out and bout, per usual, trying her best to stay out of her suffocating home.

Chapter 1: One Year Prior

As I searched frantically for the alarm on my phone that seemed never ending, I blocked out my mother’s screams, reminding me for the fourth time that if I was late again, the consequences would not be pretty. I never did understand her sense of concern for my attendance and punctuality when it came to school, but I didn’t have much of a say about the matter anyways. I dabbed on the last touches of mascara on my eyes, which my mother would most likely say were permanently rolled into the backs of my sockets. I grabbed my keys and lunch and walked casually to my car, knowing she was watching. My attendance, my problem, was what I figured should make the most sense to any normal human being. Rolling up to school with my music blaring out through my speakers, which were actually pretty impressive considering my car was a 2008 4 Runner that still had it’s original radio, I saw John making his way up the sidewalk, worn from the heavy feet dragged against as each high schooler reluctantly made their way towards the doors.

John was 17 as we entered our fourth and final year of high school and our fifth year of dating, although our commitment to each other throughout the years fluctuated from impossible to break apart to impossible to hold civil conversation. I loved him and he loved me, what else could I have asked for? I remember the first time I saw him in the small, cramped hallways of the middle school I had been attending from the start and that he had recently been enrolled into, after moving from California to Austin. He strolled casually, already exhibiting signs of a sense of comfort that had taken me years to achieve among my classmates, most of which I disliked for their taste in well, just about everything. Company, conversation and depth to say the least. He fit in almost unusually quickly, but later on I came to realize his ability to blend and please was just a part of one of his many personalities. His ability to conform.

“When did you know it was over?” was so frequently asked I felt as if i should be allowed to smack the next person who questioned me. Smacked not because it was “too painful” or “too hard to talk about”, but because it wasn’t there business in the first place and because i didn’t have an answer that they’d want to hear. No, there wasn’t one particular moment when i knew it was over. It was a collection that had been building quietly and sneakily, creeping around corners and hiding under dark places, like my bed. But I couldn’t put that into words they’d understand nor that they would want to hear. So I stuck with the simple,  rather than explaining that I knew it was over when his hands no longer occupied themselves with mine, when our nights fell short excused by excuses that were irrelevant but i somehow seemed to believe, when the texts grew cold, along with his heart and his desire to put my happiness anywhere in the equation. I guess it wasn’t so much that i never saw the signs, it was more my subconscious deciding to ignore them. A side effect of love, blindness.

But oh well, whats past is past and its time to live in the present.

So lets get back to it.

The Sunset; a Tanka

The soft tender glow

Cascades over the creation

A warm feeling seeps

Through my skin and in my veins

My soul is at peace.