I am

I bought a book today from the Self-Help section. In the first pages it is asking me to contemplate on who I am. Here I go then! I pour out my heart in front of you. And when you are reading this, ask yourself the same question. Contemplate. Who knows what you might discover and learn from it! Find all the labels you have been putting on yourself.

Atlas, June 13, 2019

First and foremost, I am a mother. I will be a mother forever and a day. With pleasure. With love. With dedication. With sacrifice. Firmly, yet lovingly, a mother first!

Secondly, I am an artist. I began as an artist in my mother's womb and I will die an artist. Then, I lay down in my coffin as an artist. Gentle and strong, extravagant and economical, eccentric and timid, rebellious and compliant. Always with a fragile and loving heart turned towards people and this earth.

Thirdly, I am a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend. I am yours to share love and compassion. Just make sure you don't hurt me. I am fragile. In words of Julia Roberts, "I am just a girl asking you to love me!" I need peace and harmony to glow and grow. My ways and my words might fail me sometimes but I only have love for you in my heart!

This is who I am today. I am satisfied and happy the way I turned out. Could have been worse! Acceptance is part of our self-love. Self-love creates love for others. Love for others is success.
I accept. I am.

Peace and Harmony, my friends!

Bicycle Day Memory

Last week, on June 3rd, some of us celebrated a Bicycle Day. On the radio they were asking people if they remembered their first bikes. I heard some stories from famous and not so famous people. It made me think about my first bike. And now I want you to reminisce about your first bike.

Hummingbird, May 2019

I am the youngest of three kids, that means that I rarely had new things of my own. My only defence was that I was the only girl my parents had, so they were forced to buy me new furniture, new clothes, new toys, new school supplies. I had some serious hand-me downs from my two older brothers. I remember, my beaten up record player, my accordion, and yes, my first bike. It was not entirely my own bike. I could change and adjust its seat height all I wanted when my brothers were not using it. Everything else belonged to my older brothers. This bike was old, used up, painted dark green not because my brothers loved that colour. It was an old bike which they had bought second hand from one of our neighbours. And that ugly dark green colour was there because that was the only available paint they had. So there was my bike. The one on which my parents learned to let go of me for the first time. Their only daughter, their youngest, their baby was independent from that first moment I learned to lift my feet off the ground to pedal, to propel ahead.

I always felt I had the ugliest bike of all my girlfriends. They had nice blue or red bikes with big wheels and new steering handles. But my ugly dark green bike had two small wheels, two pedals, and still got me where I wanted to be. So don't dread about what you have, but how it serves you. I was young at the time and didn't understand the wisdom behind it. I guess I am slowly growing up.