A world of chaos

It’s hard to put into words what I’m feeling right now. Maybe I should avoid having a mini marathons of Law & Order SVU on my days off, but I can’t help getting sucked in. Regardless, I did watch a couple of episodes today and now here I am thinking about how messed up our world is.

Earlier I told a friend that I watch the show because for the most part there is a happy ending, and in my line of work, there aren’t usually happy endings. I am a counselor. I work specifically with survivors of Domestic and Sexual Violence, both adults and children. I have the type of job that no one wants to talk about. The kind that makes people say “Wow, how can you do that kind of work? It must be so hard.” I usually brush them off by changing the subject or telling them that it helps knowing that they’re not alone in their suffering.

What I don’t tell them is that this works makes me angry. I’m angry because there are so many who don’t accept that this is an issue. It makes me angry that there are those who choose to blame the victim for what happens to her/him. I’m angry because win or loose, the victim still suffers. Not for a couple of days, but for years.

It also makes me sad. I get sad because this world is so lost. We divide ourselves. We point fingers at everyone else but ourselves. I’m sad because society is still telling people that if someone gets raped the victim probably had it coming. I’m sad because if a woman gets beat while in her relationship, she deserved it for not leaving sooner. I’m sad because we are still justifying abuse. We are raising our children to feel like they can do no wrong. There are no values, no morals, no respect. We are just looking out for ourselves. We have become selfish, petty and have become detached to what is going on in the world around us. We refuse to do what’s right.

Regardless I am still doing this work.

Six years ago I knew there was injustice in this world. Six years ago I knew I wanted to make a difference. Then God opened a door that I never imagined would open. He placed me in a position where I could look at the chaos in this world. I have seen the face of hurt. I have seen the face of pain. I know He did not make a mistake in placing me here.

My brother tells me that I’m too much of an idealist. He says that I’m always wanting to change the world. I say no…not the world, but I do want to make a difference. Even if it’s just one person. Even if it’s just one boy who will not grow up to be an abuser. Even if it’s just one girl who will feel confident and sure of herself because she is no longer relying on what society tells her. Even if it’s just one woman who feels that she can overcome every obstacle that has been thrown in her direction. Even if it’s just one man who no longer feels like a coward because he decided not to fight back when his wife attacked him.

We are living in a world of chaos. In my opinion, if you aren’t doing anything to stop it. You are part of the problem. All you have to do is speak up. Speak up against misogynistic language. Speak up against disrespect. Speak up against hate.

The time is now.

Your Voice

My greatest fear is that I will no longer hear your voice
That one day it will grow silent within me
That voice that has always reminded me of your love for me
A fear that one day that voice will one day grow mute

Not because you no longer wish to speak
Because you do speak
You speak through the breezes
Gently caressing my skin

You speak through the songs of the birds
Who give you praises with ever note they tweet
You speak through the laughter of a child
Reminding me the joys of this world

Yet I fear losing you
I fear that I will drift away
That I will no longer recognize your voice
It will no longer call out to me

I must stop pushing you away
I must stop ignoring your call
I must hold on to my purpose
I must take down this great wall

The wall that tells me
I can do it on my own
The wall that tells me
You are not true

I choose you
My Savior
My Shelter
My Lord

I choose to hear your voice
To let it comfort me
To let it remind me of your love
To let it strengthen me

I choose to hear your voice

Il Travatore

So today I went to my 2nd Opera and I must say I enjoyed far more than my first one. Perhaps its because I’m older, or maybe because the people I went with appreciate the Opera more. Whatever the reason, it was a pretty nice experience, the orchestra was GREAT, the seats were AWESOME and i was with fabulous people! I was a little confused at first because I missed the first half, but I liked that I was able to get caught up with all the characters right away.

I’m still a little confused by how it ended. I feel like it was a cliff hanger. I was like wait whose mother did what? A brother of who? I had too many questions. Also is it bad that I felt sorry for the “bad” guy. I mean he couldn’t help that he fell in love with the girl that was already taken.

My favorite character of course had to be Leonora. I’m not sure who played her, but she did an awesome job! However my favorite part of the night would probably have to be the parts where my friends and I recalled what opera songs had played on the Bugs Bunny cartoons.

Either way I had a really good time and I can’t wait until I see my next one!!

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The above image was obtained from Operanut.

In Search of Hope

Chaos
Violence
Hatred
Vengeance

Broken Hearted
Grief
Overwhelming sadness
Closing in all around me

Breaking free of all that binds me
Searching for what was never spoken
For fear that it might not exist
Yet searching none the less

Hidden in the darkest corners
Or within the broken promises
Perhaps inside the forgotten dream
There might reside the hope which has been unseen

Down the longest alley
Or under the self hatred
Could it be found among the hateful language
That hope that can cure this overwhelming damage

Hope to continue the battle
Hope to believe in love once more
Hope to rise above their expectations
Hope to live my life freely

A not so distant past

Last week I had the opportunity to visit the National Mexican Art Museum and I must say it brought back a ton of memories of my childhood.

While I did not grow up in Mexico, I would spend every summer for about 2 months either in Durango or with my grandparents in Eagle Pass, Texas, where if you asked me, crossing the threshold of my grandparent’s house, I was in Mexico.

I remember the colors of the houses. It could be the cloudiest day, the roads no longer roads but mud pits, but the houses remained vibrant and rich in colors. Pink, red, and green houses, with lace curtains and plastic covered sofas to keep the dirt off of them. I remember the patios/front porches where we would sit outside on the white iron furniture and gaze at the stars or sit across a fire talking about life. Even then I was fascinated by my family’s history. Who was that? How are they my cousins? Y luego que paso? And then what happened? I remember the loving arms of my grandmothers as they would play with my hair. Answering any and every questions my curious mind could think of. I remember sitting with my distant cousins and new friends asking them about what it was like to grow up in Mexico.

Mostly I remember playing, ALL day!!! My favorite was playing restaurant with my brother at my ‘Buelita Juanitas house. We had mini everything! Plates, cups, trastes, cucharas. The following photos represent what I used to love about being a child with a Mexican heritage.

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I must have had this exact set growing up. If I would have known my dad could have made a  “kitchen” like this for me I so would have made him do it. I think it’s awesome! I will definitely do something like this for my children.

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This piece was called the “History of Mole” again you’ll find the dishes I’m fond of, and since I’m a HUGE fan of Mole I had to get a picture of this.

ImageTHis last picture reminds me of all the vibrant colors that existed in Mexico. The U.S was a world of beige, browns and dark greens, with an occasional floral pattern in the mix. But Mexico was a world where everything was brighter and louder and more exciting, even skeleton toys from Guanajuato.

Screaming

I hear her voice

Why did this happen to me!

How could he do this?!

What am I going to do!?

I hear her scream

Not just with my ears

But my heart hears it too

And it screams along side her

This world of injustice

This place of despair

Where no one is safe

Not young nor old

She had been raped

Not once

Not twice

But three times

My heart screams

What can I tell her

How can I help

What should I do

I sit

And I listen

Wondering how

This woman has the courage to tell it all now

No longer is she hiding

No longer afraid

She chooses to move on

Taking life day by day

In the quietness of the moment

Her voice no longer screaming

My heart can still hear

The roar of her scream

Nothing can change

The hurt that she’s suffered

Nothing I do can ease the pain that she’s in

She herself is the hero

Standing against those who deny her

Her right to be free

Free from assaults

Free from her pain

She’s screaming for justice

Demanding a change