Glastonbury Tales, pt. 6

Hello kind readers!  Excuse my absence once again and let me begin with a brief announcement: because I’m really getting into writing my next novel, Iar, I will blog only once a month from now on, although the date for that has yet to be decided…  However, I might come up with surprise entries every now and then, if the need for such arises in my fingertips.

So, it’s been weeks since we talked, it seems, and I have to admit that I regret not publishing this entry on the Friday after the last entry, because that’s when Stephen and I were actually celebrating our six months and a “Glastonbury, pt. 6” might have been sweetly meaningful…  On the other hand, I get to tell you what happened on that weekend and on the few weeks after, and that shall be a thrill for me!  Firstly, on Friday the 20^th, the day of the Solar Eclipse, we were on our way to London, so we got to see the eclipse from the coach and we even got to see Stonehenge right as the eclipse was coming to an end!  Needless to say, we had our own little healing ritual right there on the coach, but instead of talking about what we did (which indeed is quite personal), I’ll redirect you to my friend and mentor Mani Navasothy’s book, Eclipse Magic (http://www.maninavasothy.com/html/eclipse_magic.html ), on which you can find a great deal of ideas to do your own kinds of rituals, healing or otherwise.  I prefer to always do healing, because anything you ask from the outside has to always be processed within the self first.  In order to get good things from the world, we have to be clean and ready to obtain them; yet others might differ, so you’re welcome to explore what best suits you…

We were on the coach, then, Stephen’s head on my shoulder as we gazed at the Eclipse through the clouds – the clouds being thick enough so that we were able to watch for a great deal of time before and after it reached its totality; then we saw Stonehenge pop up from the ground, the way it does when you’re looking for it from the road, and it was just a very blissful moment indeed!  It made me realise many things, but especially that my choice to document my healing path is a never-ending story in itself, because like it’s been stated over and over again, once you start healing, you can never truly stop!  Never!  Dun dun dun!  (Hehe, un-helpable, hehehe)  In all seriousness, though, once you realise the roots of your issues and how to fix them, you just keep finding things to work on and heal more and more things within you, dark corners and sharp edges and all of that.  Sure, it gets dangerous if you become fanatical about it: if you can’t stop because if you stop you go mad, but that’s true with any health practice!  Like a person who wants to lose weight and looses the sense of proportion instead, becoming too thin and thus unhealthy again; or vice-versa, for those need to gain weight and become uber-muscular, to the point of losing elasticity.  Yes, I’m drawing on the body issues again because I’m tired of this body-shaming battle going on the media over the past months… If you’re too fat, you’re unhealthy, if you’re too thin, you’re unhealthy, if you’re uber-muscular, you’re unhealthy!  And here the word “too” refers to what is an unhealthy weight in relation to height, body-type and age…  It’s not about aesthetics anymore, it’s about health!  Granted, if a person can’t lose weight because of health issues, such as thyroids, medicine intake (such as in my case), or other weight-gaining illnesses or issues, they have to treat that first, not the weight problem!  And doctors going “Oh, you have to lose weight to fix this or that problem” (such as knee or back pain) are not helping either, because they only make the person feel worse about themselves and even more impotent than before…  However, there have been some really good blog entries on this subject, so keep reading on about it and make your own mind.  Now, body image, that’s another story!  I stick to my belief that we’re all pretty and that we’re all seen as pretty by some and not by others, and we have to be at peace with that, especially because, a) we don’t all have the same taste, and b) not because you’re not seen as pretty by a person or a particular group does it mean that you’re less pretty, it just means they don’t think you’re pretty!  But why do “they” matter so much?  What truly matters is who you are, not how you think “society” wants you to be… although no one actually ever says who “society” really is – it could be the rich folk, it could be Hollywood, it could be Religion (seen as how many people blame “Religion” for everything nowadays), it could be the people in charge of social media, it could be aliens, Big Brother, the Master, or the gods playing games with us, who knows?

So, let’s return to Glastonbury, then!  (Yes, we came back from London to Glastonbury, so that line fits in very prettily).  Well, do I ever really talk about Glastonbury?  Not sure… That was half rhetorical and half I-truly-don’t-know, btw…  Anyhow, we had our first long-ish visit a few days ago: my friend Nancy, from Durango; one of those people that you just know you feel comfortable with and who, no matter how much time passes, the good relationship seems natural as soon as you get in touch again.  I must say, aside from all the fun we had and how lovely it was to show someone around the town I love and know as home (and all the magic in entails!) (and how cool it was to see her pictures on Facebook, images of all those places that I see every day or very often, shown to the world through someone else’s eyes!!), the best bit was the sharing of pure laughter and joy between three people who are happy with themselves, contented and achieved and fulfilled (although some of us still have a bit of path to thread to get there on the professional level…  But hard work will pay off here as well, as it has done on my personal trek!).  Nancy has had a healing path of her own, and I’m sure glad I’ve converged with her during different stages of it, and even more now when I can see all her commitment paying off…  I wish to be able to see everyone I care about just like that: having succeeded or on a very positive path towards that, each on the issue they have been working on…  And even those I don’t care about!  Wait, that came out funny… I mean, I wish to see everyone achieving that level of being happy with themselves, regardless of the other things they might still have to fix in their lives.  I believe that as long as we get to that point of being truly and openly happy with whom we are, then the other issues will begin to get fixed almost automatically – not that we won’t have to work on them anymore!  However, because we’ve already established our wishes time and time again, as the Universe sees that you’re working hard for them, it’ll grant them to you.

Oh, I hate how pink and fluffy that sounds… but it’s exactly what I believe, and I don’t mean to change a word of it unless I’m proven wrong.  Tonight there is another eclipse: some will see it and some shall be asleep, depending on what part of the world one is, but it’s still a very nice time to soak in the meaningful idea of change, release, protection, visibility or openness that we spiritually give it (or any other that you might need for your own purposes); and we’re so privileged to be able to enjoy the experience!  I’m off to eat something now, but I hope I’ve left you with some inspiration about whatever you need to today…

Oh, in case you were wondering, I wasn’t intending to expand on my 6-month celebratory weekend in London with Stephen, but I did change the subject quite abruptly there, didn’t I?  Well, we had dinner and theatre (we saw The Commitments – funny, thought-provoking and extremely enjoyable, with absolutely fantastic music!  Recommendable to all who love musicals and/or soul music), and we had Spring rituals at Richmond Park both on Saturday and Sunday… oh, and breakfast at one of the first pubs we had a meal together six months before! Very meaningful…  Yet, I’m only saying this partly to brag and partly to make sure that you don’t think that I’m being secretive about something just because I changed the subject out of the blue…  Having said that, off I go for food!

Have a lovely weekend!

Sandra Tena ~ Writer, dreamer, healer, lover

Glastonbury Tales, pt.5

It was six months ago today that I met Stephen Cole in person for the first time, here in Glastonbury; at a café a couple of minutes walk from our house, as a matter of fact.  It’s been a very impressive half a year, I must say, even though anybody following this blog can ascertain that for themselves and no one might even need me to say it to notice it!  It’s no secret that Stephen gave me a push forward in my healing even weeks before we met, which is why today I’m marking it as a special date.  Even if calendars are just numbers and time as we know it is just a way for humans to keep track of what they’re doing with their lives, I have to admit that this moment of “First half” is very significant indeed!  It was a mix of elements that could have only been achieved by all the other decisions I made before in my life, which include: Changing my BA from Graphic Design to International Relations (I knew it would come in handy some day); waiting to begin my MA to have a family instead (failed); coming to Europe to do some workshops instead of my MA (getting on the right track); deciding to apply to Newcastle, and consequently to Leazes Terrace for accommodation and furthermore to the Santander Latin America Scholarship (definitely the right track!); making friends with Cata Largacha so that when we went to London for a scholarship reception we decided to do a “Secret and Unbelievable London” type of tour, instead of a traditional one, because we’d both been there enough times to know most things by heart (except Westminster, Stephen would say, given that *that’s* where I got us lost the day we got together… I still can’t understand how I could have been expected to focus on where we were walking if they’d left me alone with him!), we’d rather do the quirky and mysterious bits of London that most people don’t know about (ding ding ding ding ding!); going with her to The School of Life and buying the book Londoners, by Craig Taylor, where I read about Christina Oakley Harrington and Treadwells (best choice of book ever made!); moving to London after my MA, instead of staying in Newcastle (bingo!); going to Treadwells to hear a talk by Mani Navasothy there (wham, bam, life changed irrevocably now!); casually mentioning  Doctor Who to him, even though I was positively amateurish then, and nervously accepting his invitation to join his fan production team as none other than the very Doctor him(HER)self (happy nervous floppy Christmas dance); going to a couple of healing workshops in Mexico when I couldn’t get a job in England (just a little pause here, getting energized people!); deciding to come to England for the summer and try to get my novel from the MA published (poking my head in to see if things might go my way…); applying for a business workshop in Newcastle instead, but opting to do a full cleanup of Wideawake anyways (ding ding ding ding ding!); deciding not to come to Glastonbury on a particular weekend while I was somewhere nearby but waiting instead till Mani said we’d come for filming (Stephen and I both know that it wasn’t yet the right time to have met…  yep, this intuition thing seems to be paying off); and finally, coming to Glastonbury on the last weekend I would have been here before I got the acceptance from Newcastle…

… sigh…  Serendipity, they call it…  I followed my intuition in my decision-making, and though I’ve said and done some pretty stupid things, because either I’ve been too headstrong and not wanted to listen to myself, or I’ve just been blinded by fool’s gold (which ultimately heals us, too, btw, the stone), I could not be any more grateful for those mistakes!  And this is not a new way of thinking for me, incidentally, because just this morning I was surprised by a song in my computer… well, not surprised by the song itself, because I’ve had it in there for fifteen years or so, but by what it meant fifteen years ago: Graziemille, by 883, a song that I used to thank my parents with when they gave me the opportunity to do a year abroad in Italy.  I don’t know how much I’ve talked about those times, so I’ll make a brief recount of it, starting with what 883 meant for me in high school – not the band but the actual number: I had a friend who fancied the same guy that I did, but she was a couple years below us and I only spent time with her on recesses and afternoons; the guy we both fancied was my best friend back then, and she’d say that I didn’t deserve him because I spent so much time with him doing homework or watching basketball but never did anything romantic, so that others should have a chance with him instead (as if it was me who was holding him back from it… and he was *still* not the first reason for my being so incompetent with men, yikes!).  Anyway, she had a friend in her class and they called each other “8” (I was never sure why), and they’d say that I was “3”, because I was only with them half the time, so we were the “883”…

So, when I got to Italy, and I heard that song by 883, I was captivated – For every day, every instant, every little moment, that I’m living today, thank you so very much!  Those lyrics, even though the rest of the song did not apply to me, got to the very core of my heart.  Remember, this is Italy, where I was still friendless, socially awkward, struggling with not one but two new languages, living with a family that had horrible problems with me because I wanted to shower every day (and because I opted not to learn German because of how painful the grammar was becoming for me), and pegged as dangerously depressed –enough to be sent back to my parents before the program was over.  This is also the time when I was shunned by not only one but three school groups – all those that I took different classes with, because I managed to get into a couple more Art classes and a Religion course instead of Maths, Physics and Chemistry, given that I’d already graduated from high school…  Granted, I did keep a bit of correspondence with some of the few friends I made, but things grew a bit cold between all of us after some years…  And what's more, this is also the year when I fell in love for the first time and got burnt quite badly (the first “mature” love, I suppose, because even I know that whatever I felt at age 12 was pretty different, or anything else I’d  felt for friends before, for that matter).  Why would a person in that situation wish to be thankful for ongi giorno, ogni instante, ongi attimo, che sto vivendo?  Every little moment?  Really?  Well, the answer to that is: Yes, really.

Yes, yes yes yes!  I know it deep in my heart that back then I was feeling the gratitude with the same strength as I’ve manifested over the past few months.  See, in my life I’ve been told so many times that “I have to be grateful for the good things I already have”, and I never quite understood why people never saw that I already was!  I think that’s why over the past few months I went into full emotional disclosure, and that’s perhaps why I believe that this might help someone as well…  Some people might need to be listened at closer to hear the thanks they’re giving…

 Anyway, I need to go back to serendipity: I had a moment the other night where I saw myself as someone completely different from who I am now; not worse, not better, just different… The me that managed to get a job in London the first time around, that lived in Angel (not so much because of Angel Islington anymore, but rather because that’s where the young people are living “the life”); I was the one dating a suit and drinking wine over dinner with a neck covered in pearls and dainty roses and a deep and loud laughter because she’s bored and needs to seem as if she wasn’t – wait, I made it sound worse than I intended to… I mean, I specifically said “not worse, not better, just different” because I really mean no disrespect to anybody who actually lives that way!)…  To everyone their own, I always say, and truth be told, I probably wouldn’t even notice that I was unhappy unless I’d seen anything of what conforms my life now, and something stirred inside of me to let me know that I’d strayed…  No matter, I guess if people are happy living that way then there is nothing wrong with that!  Yet, forgetting about Angel Islington because too many people rejected them for being nerds, that’s where life gets sad, because that’s when the person lets go of their essence.  I cannot imagine my life any different than what it is now, especially when two years after my first encounter with Angel Islington I come to find him with Peter Capaldi’s face on my very own living room in the flat I share with Stephen in Glastonbury!

I’m sorry, but too many people are going on and on online about how to do your makeup this way or that, or how to create a perfect hair thing, or about exercise or how to be cool and whatnot…  And there is nothing wrong with wanting to look better or with wanting to know about the things that most people say are cool, but when we lose ourselves into that “in” crowd instead of letting our true selves shine through, that’s where it gets sad (again)…  But let’s not all become nerdy now, okay?  That’s not what I’m saying…  Now that being nerdy is cool, so many people want in just because that’s what everybody is doing, yet one thing is being accepting of everyone and another is trying to become like everyone!  Although, kudos for those closeted geeks that are finally coming out!  And also, one thing is to want to learn about those things that everybody is talking about to see if we like them (and if things are likable, then go for them), but another is to try to seem like you like something even though you don’t just so you feel accepted…  Another sigh…  I’ve done both, the second one is very energy-consuming, indeed…

I will go now, before I start myself in yet another subject…  See you next week and keep on the lookout for my literary news as well – that “Sliding Doors” type of mental-episode thing is becoming its own story as well!

Cheers!

Sandra Tena ≈ Writer, dreamer, seeker, lover

Glastonbury Tales, pt. 4

It’s been a time of intense reflection, a whirlwind of activities keeping me from typing away as I’d wish…  Typing away, I say, yet thankfully not unable to write in general!  After a long meditation/inner debate about which of the original ideas actually work (presently, in my grown-up form), and which are obvious childhood hiding-holes, I’ve finally settled on a core story for Pentacle, huzza!  This has been quite a lot of work, especially since it has involved touching plenty of memories that I’d thought I’d never have to think about again.  I went down the rabbit hole, but for the first time it was an unpleasant experience because of the things that I had to recall, so Wonderland turned into the Burton version; the only reason I came back safe and sound was because Stephen held my hand during the whole time…  I guess this might mean that we may both have a story to tell, huh?

Frankly, I’m fully aware that this exploration of my different realities wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t blurted it all out before within this blog.  Once again, writing has saved my life, figuratively and literally at the same time!  I know I’d already said that I was going to refocus this blog and edit many of those fully-open entries because I felt like my energy was leaking from them, yet I haven’t been able to find the time to do it, and you know what? I learned something new!  Yay!  I learned that as soon as I addressed the situation, “My energy is leaking, let me see what I can do about it without hurting the essence of my writing”, the leak was fixed!  I think it had to do with my being honest about it, in the same way that I’ve been about the experiences that needed healing.  The thing is, as long as we let the Universe know what the issue is and what we want to do to fix it, the Universe will answer with support and tools; you still have to do the work, but you’ll have a higher chance of success because you’ve already established it in your mind and sent the right energies into the world.

Anyway, these reflections come from a state of acceptation of myself and my story which I’ve been in during the past few weeks, and which could not have been achieved without all my previous purging.  That’s what gave me full access into my characters: a few weeks ago I said that I was ready to take control of their lives and develop the series with a balanced mind and heart, so I went deeper into the things I had to fix and this is the result, so you can imagine how happy and grateful I am.  Still, clearing those issues also meant letting go of things, places and even people that I’d always deemed important to the story, because they’d marked me for better or worse, so Cassandra had to deal with them as well, didn’t she?  Given that she’s mirroring my life in fiction, doesn’t she have to go through all of the psychological and emotional ordeals that I went through in order to get her power?  That is how good writers work, giving their characters all of their rises and falls, right?  Wrong!  I would have liked to post this entry on Friday 6^th, because it was the first anniversary of Gabriel García Márquez to be celebrated after his death last April, so talking about A Hundred Years of Solitude would have been perfect!  Everyone who knows him knows that Gabo, as he is also known by friends and fans, based plenty of his fiction on his own life and family saga, A Hundred Years of Solitude included, yet he always made it so that things were sequentially or characteristically different enough so that he could call it fiction instead of bio, delivering at the same time an amazing taste of Magic Realism in which his characters (real or not) displayed all the depth and strength of presence necessary so that the readers didn’t have to even care whether they were based on reality or not…  I admit that such is my biggest wish!  I mean, those who know me will know which real names in (close enough) real events I’m using in my novels and short stories, just as which names in fake events and what real events with fake names there are…  Yet what’s the point of pointing them out? If an author catharsizes something within their writing, it’s likely that they’re not assuming that everyone will realise that it is true and point it out, and whether they choose to disclose it themselves or not (for healing, literary or commercial reasons, that’s another story!), that’s something else entirely.  Regarding disclosure, one thing I have to say in regarding how great Stephen has been during this whole process, is that he admitted from the very beginning that he felt he knew me very deeply because of how much of myself I’d been pouring into this blog; so, for him, half the things that I worked on during these past few weeks and that I needed his support to pull through, were already known to him, and the other half weren’t even a surprise!  Oh, but I wouldn’t advise this approach with any starting couples, okay?  I mean, if things come up that weren’t expected, then be empathic and honest and deal with it from a supportive position, but it’s not a very good idea to sit down together over the first few dates and say: “Yo, this is all I need to heal, will you still like me?”.  It’s probably even a good idea to stop saying Yo altogether, at least after you’ve gone into your twenties; but that’s just a personal suggestion.  Unless you can really pull it off.  I tried and it really, really doesn’t work for me.  Apparently I’m too white and nerdy to use it even as a joke, who knew?  Anyway, don’t go telling people you fancy all the things that you need to heal, unless you’ve proven to each other that there is empathy and trust!  If you’ve got neither of those things (and they have to go together), you might get burnt even worse and considered weak or needy, even if you’re neither or even if there is nothing wrong in being either!  See, in our case (Stephen and me) this works because he already knew so much about me from what he read here, and showed me empathy about it all even before we met in person, and so we’ve been honest all the time about everything from the very beginning…  And, hey, I went through six and a half years before I found trust and empathy in a man I fancied, so I’m pretty sure I know what I’m talking about.  So, in the case of new couples, if things that need healing pop up and give surprises, the best suggestion, seems to me, will always be to keep it honest and to advance through it with empathy.

It’s almost midnight now, so I’ll try and close up, but before I go I’d like to share another couple of great things that marked my Friday 6^th: Stephen and I paid a little tribute to Leonard Nimoy by playing The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins at Folk Club (my first time singing in front of a live audience, btw – did not go well… but you know what they say: if you don’t get it the first time, try and try again!  And we will!!  I’ll have to keep you posted on that one, wink wink!).  And I was also kissed for the first time ever under the mistletoe…

…Erm, yes, I know it’s March.  March the 9^th, in fact.  Who’s to say that using a little mistletoe brooch doesn’t count for these matters?  After all, Stephen didn’t know that such an event was a first for me, but it’s really really hard not to kiss him when he goes all history and legends and literature on me, what was I suppose to do?  Wait for real mistletoe?  Okay, I sense that this is the part where I should stop my rambling and explain the context: remember how I’ve been on and on about how I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere until I met him?  That whole “Not even in London, what am I suppose to do now?” thing?  Yes, of course you do, I probably overtalked about that subject, so I won’t blame you if you’re sitting there rolling your eyes at the screen right now, but I have to mention it because it so happened that we were talking about Stephen’s Cornish ancestry and I said yet again how nice it would be to have that sense of belonging, to be able to jump up and down in joy and point to your roots or blood or whatever, just like I say to everyone (my family included!) who mentions their roots with the passion and fervour that Stephen was talking with about Cornwall.  Long story short, he said I was mistletoe!  He said that there is nothing wrong with flying about until one is able to find a nice tree where to grow and develop oneself, and that roots do not necessarily have to grow on the ground (which finally explains why it has always been so hard for me to ground myself), but that becoming part of the chosen environment has as much merit as everything else in life…  Now, before you go all “But it’s a hemiparasite!” on me, remember that it has been recognized as a keystone species because of its role on ecological cycles…  It doesn’t just “live off its host”, but its role in the roosting, nesting and feeding of many birds make it important for the continuity of biodiversity.  Moreover, if it’s seen within the areas of spirituality and healing, it’s one of the oldest holy plants known in Druidism and myths and legends in other ancient religions.  Nowadays, Druids and many other Pagans give it its place during the winter rituals: they position a white cloth under the oaks when collecting mistletoe, so that it never touches the ground and thus keeps its holy properties.  As for the oaks, it’s an honour to be chosen by the mistletoe, because that’s what makes them holy… So, either way I look at it, I love to understand myself as mistletoe now, and to have chosen Stephen as my tree as well…

Anyway, before this starts becoming all “Dear Diary” again, I’ll leave you all with my best wishes for the week, and I’ll return on Friday with the next entry…   Now to sleep!

Love and blessings!

Sandra Tena ≈ Writer, dreamer, seeker, lover

Alanis and Michigan: friends, companions, familiars... Always!

Today is the day I shall always keep in my heart for these two: Alanis and Michigan, who were with me through every difficult step, through every joyous achievement, through every change of heart...

Alanis turns 18 today, we lost Michigan back in April; but they´re joined in my heart, and they're still working their magic together, because that´s the role they were meant to play.

I had a good talk with Alanis today, and I'm sure I'll see her and her sister in my dreams tonight, because we still have to celebrate, like we do every year even through my distance.  Alanis is happy and well taken care of, my philosophical cat who'd rather be alone and let her thoughts roam free as she delights in the wind and the rain and watches the trees sway.  Michigan was the sociable one, and also the one that I'd be able to have a conversation with after reading aloud from a book I was enjoying or an assignment from class.  She'd also watch football games with my dad, and steal our food any chance she'd get.  Alanis crawls under my blankets (or my sister's) whenever she hears someone come into the house, and she tends to pull the water bowl towards her before drinking, instead of taking a further step to reach it herself... she'd make me jump in the night sometimes with that!

So, here's to them, my little ones, I think of them fondly and dearly wish to hold Alanis again when I visit my parents at some point during the Summer, but for now this connection of ours will have to suffice...  And this image of them to last forever through eternity, to give a smile to anyone who lays eyes on it, and hopefully bring to the onlookers as much healing as these darling sisters have done to me!

Glastonbury Tales, pt. 3

Here we are, week three of the Glastonbury-based blog serial; magic, light and romance surrounding my life in a way I never thought possible, and finally (at long, long last) knee deep in Pentacle!  It’s a particularly intense moment in my life, because I’ve happily come to understand at last where the blockage lies, so what comes next is dissecting important bits from its origins, healing those moments that have yet to be healed that relate to my life, and write away my friends!  When I moved to London over the summer, the plan had been to start working straight on Pentacle after I’d cleaned up the six chapters that I’d need from Wideawake to send to agents; but as luck would have it, I found that it was better to finish Wideawake and focus on Pentacle afterwards, although the process of understanding and rearranging my childhood world never really stopped, so by the time when I first visited this town at the end of the summer, it so happened that Glastonbury rekindled many aspects of the original story.

The actual storyline has suffered so many changes over the past ten-fifteen years that when I was telling Stephen about it the other night, he said that it in no way resembled the story that I’d told him about during the time we first got together.  I don’t feel bad about that, because it really feels like most changes have been for the better, except for a few details that I want to bring forth from the different stages of creation; however, because that obviously means giving up some of the things that I’ve gotten used to now, I haven’t really found a way to do it in which we are all happy… I mean, me and my characters!

Ah, my characters… we’ve come a long way, them and I.  I created them at a point when I needed friends and strength and a hope for love; I nursed them back to life every once in a while, whenever they’d undergone a change that I regretted forcing onto them; I’ve talked about them with people from different backgrounds, ages and literary tastes; and I’ve made it through dark and creepy passages with their help and healing properties.  Yes, my characters deserve happiness, indeed, just as much happiness as I’ve already got in reality!  The fact is, that because so many of them were there for me to bounce off whenever I experienced a disillusionment, then the emotional links and relations between them took a bit of a turn from what I had visualised 21 years ago, and I don’t necessarily feel that they deserve that sort of treatment.  I have come to understand, after so much remodelling, that both characters and story have become not something I created, but something that my surroundings and circumstances created for me, and that I went along with that because it was something I needed for my own benefit at each one of those stages.  Yet, an amazing thing that Glastonbury has brought me along with all the healing from the very first moment my feet touched the wet grass as we set up camp, is a clarity of mind that I didn’t have six, seven months ago.  Now, don’t get me wrong, it still took me a few weeks to admit it (and maybe having to move here in order for that clean energy to flow through my body as my legs pump up and down the streets, hills and stories this town has to tell), but now I’m ready to admit that I was unclear about what was going in my five-part saga because I’ve been afraid to take control of it.

There, I’ve said it and now I can’t take it back.  Wait a minute, I can erase this entry if I want to… but no, no more erasing and backing down.  No more hiding behind the uncertainty of my own ideas; no more groping in the dark for the light switch when I know full well that I’ve got the candle and matches in my pocket.  I have the tools, now I have to use them.  I have the consciousness of the whys and wheres and hows, so I will make the story be told, one way or another.

By the way, it’s been five months since that light was put inside my pocket (or is it inside my mind?), five months since I jumped off the precipice to land in my true love’s arms (there’s the blind Fool that we keep talking about, the one who now truly enjoys the flight), five months since I reached the peak of my healing so that those main baddies that I was fighting inside my brain are gone, five months since I was regenerated (in a form of speech?), five months since I discovered how mad my loneliness was making me, and that only because I found health as a possible romantic way of life…!  Five amazing things that happened to me five months ago, interconnected through my desires in life within the path that I’m following, and so I feel the five elements flow inside of me and give me the powers of sight, hearing and mobility that I needed in order to make my life my own…

Well, there’s the “take control” thing once again, isn’t it? Written in another form, but nevertheless there… the Universe has spoken: We have given you the tools, now use them to create what you’ve been intending all along!  I have undergone the five stages of Cassandra’s spiritual route, marking it little by little, creating alternatives in The Shadow Behind, Wideawake and even in most of my tales told from the rooftop, so that anything that needed an urgent outlet could flow correctly, and now I’m in that fantastic, scary-as-hell place where I can actually, for once and for all, take those tools that are being handed to me, take my gifts and rewards that I have succeeded in obtaining from life, and take control of that life I’m being rewarded with!

Now, this seems scariest of all, but I’ll wait no longer for my characters to tell me what they wish me to do with them, or who they are and where they’re going; I’m going to decide for them, and will take responsibility for the outcome of what I send them off into; I will trust in myself and my instinct that those who deserve rewards will get them, those who need to learn are successful in their trials, and those who need to be gone are gone…  And that is, for the first time in my life, me taking charge of the different aspects of myself that have run erratically as I tried to put them down on paper to make sense to me…

… and scary as it sounds to my own head, holy frick it was due time!

Hm, let me rephrase that so it sounds more mature and poetic…

… and scary as it may seem to someone who’s undergone the type of things I’ve had, where control has been lost so many times that I’ve lost count, I’m ready for whatever I have to do to take control of my life and my writing, because yes, it is due time!

There, seems more credible.  Now I can go ahead and be considered a serious person and writer.  I can go ahead and enjoy my weekend, as I very much hope that you all will do as well!

 Best wishes,

Sandra Tena ≈ Writer, dreamer, healer, lover

Glastonbury Tales, pt. 2

First of all, I’ve recently found out that there already exists a book titled Glastonbury Tales!  I’m unsure whether it is fiction or non-fiction, because I only saw it listed somewhere at the Library of Avalon, but the book itself is not there anymore; well, I might not have had the most original idea, then, but I sure wish to use the name for something besides this serial within the blog…

It feels so right to be here!  I’m nearly completely unpacked (I just have to get hooks so I can take my jewellery out of the TARDIS and hang it on the wall the way I like it!), the flat is almost set up, and every step of the way has truly made me feel like I’ve come home…  It took me a tad too long to get here, but it’s been so worthwhile to go through whatever I had to go through to make it over!

I finally understand my mum’s words when she’d say she understood me because she’d been through the same, and that she simply knew that there were better things ahead because she was able to see my path from an outsider’s angle and that she could tell that I’d be out of the murky waters sooner than I gave myself credit for.  I was different back then; I hated it when people said that things would be better in the future, that good things were going to happen to me and that I only had to be patient; I needed to move, to hurry up time and events so that I could experience that happiness now, but that usually made it worse, because I wasn’t ready to receive the blessing that I was reaching out for, and that would break me down instead of helping me!  However, I was productive and optimistic and somewhere in my late twenties I changed my motto into the wise If something good didn’t happen for me now, that’s because something better is waiting for me in the future; I’d often add Just because something isn’t happening now, it doesn’t mean it’ll never happen, and that’s how I navigated for a few years, re-booting my healing process in the way that many of you are already familiar with from reading previous entries.

That’s why, when all of the changes started happening for the better some years ago, I decided to go into full blissful optimistic Zen mode: Relax and Let it Flow…!  Not because I thought it was easy in any way, or because I was avoiding the hardships of reality (I still get stressed now and then, and I do see the truths of the world in many ways!), but because it feels healthy, motivational and effective!  And that’s why I went into full honesty mode in the blog, even though it’s made me quite vulnerable to the elements, yet what good is learning from heavy experiences if you cannot share it with other people who might need it as much as you did, or know somebody who do?  I know that everyone’s path is so different, that even close friends that have undergone a similar experience than I did might need a whole different set of tools and processes to get through it, but any little bit of shimmery hope that can come in anybody’s way through my being open about my path will be worth it to me if it helps out.  I’ve said it one too many times, I believe, but I say it again because I know I needed a remainder of it ten or fifteen years ago: I needed to know that someone cared, that someone was going to be there at the other end of the line, of the screen, of the world, even, understanding and ready to tell me it was going to be okay.

I did just say that I hated it when people told me it was going to be okay, didn’t I?  It wasn’t just my mum, it was so many of my friends and family, too many to name; but it was always the What-do-you-know-about-it? feeling that kept me from trusting their words in the first place, it was never them!  I needed someone who’d never known me, who’d never seen me, even, to reassure me, because that person was impartial, that person was going to tell me the truth not based on what they felt for me or what they’d thought I’d done wrong or was doing right: that person could answer me based on their own experience, or because they’d seen the path clear for others as well; it meant they knew facts rather than hopes for me.  That’s why I looked for different therapists, because as soon as one got to know me a bit better, I’d felt judged and needed to find another impartial measuring device; same with teachers or with family acquaintances who’d be in and out of our lives so briefly that they’d be able – or so I thought – to remain impartial to my situation.

The thing is, remember how I had my Christmas entry up for such a brief time that I had to make an apology to those of you who’d read during the brief hours it was up?  I was crying my heart out while I was writing that entry, and when I took it down I was crying just as much; I’d named it Christmas Blues, and it made me feel like I was going back on a promise I’d made a lifetime ago – both to my family and to the readers of this blog!  Well, I’m always thankful for all the blessings I’ve had throughout my life, and that’ll forever include my family’s support, which is why when I wrote about crying on Christmas, at a time when the family was undergoing a brief but difficult health situation, I felt like I was stabbing all of them in the back…  But that feeling only makes the point I was trying to make all the more poignant!

Listen, depression is like that, and not because I’m off my meds does it mean that I’ll be a ray of sunshine forever and ever all my life – in fact, the raindrops look so beautiful on the skylights this morning, that I’m siding with rain once again as a metaphor for joy and purity of heart  and soul, but that’s a whole different matter.  Back to the point, the worst thing about depression, for me, is that feeling of being completely unable to explain to people what is it exactly that’s making you cry, even if you can use a word of two to describe that reason…  For me, that word has always been Loneliness.  It’s always what I’ve been most fearful of, and it’s been a constant in my life, but trying to explain that to the family is very ugly business indeed!  How do you even begin to say it, if you’re in a houseful of cousins you can play with and aunts and uncles you can share wisdom and funny stories with?  I’ve ALWAYS said that every Christmas with the family has been a blessed time, and trust you me, admitting this next bit does not change that at all, particularly all the love and gratitude I feel for my kin; still, I’ve cried myself to sleep every Christmas and most New Year’s Eves since 1999 (until 2012, because 2013 was the year the Doctor saved me on Christmas in London – pun intended).  It’s been complicated businesses, because most of those years I’ve shared a room either with my sister or a cousin or my parents, so it gets a bit difficult to sniffle away while someone is in a bed close-by and you’re trying not to wake them up.  They have, sometimes, and they’ve asked me what’s wrong, to which I mostly reply that it’s nothing and tell them that it’s okay, that they should go back to sleep.  That’s not me being a martyr or anything, that’s me trying to be objective and practical.  Whether it’s worked or not, that’s another story.

Nevertheless, the most important thing I needed to convey then and even now, is that it was never them that made me cry, it was never Christmas or the festivities in themselves… it was me spending Christmas alone, it was the New Year coming around the corner when my whole Old Year had gone by without any great successes in any area – romantic, creative, job-wise.  How do you tell those people you love with all your heart and soul that it’s not them that’s making you suffer, that it’s not your cousins, or your aunts, or that row you had with your mum before getting in the car to drive seven or eight hours to spend Christmas with the family?  It’s not them, it’s you.  But how do you even say that, when you know that it’s not even love you lack?  To begin with that’s a full house of family we’ve been talking about, then there is all the privilege and shelter you’ve had in your life, with good education, good food, constant travelling and an infinite source or culture and knowledge within reach at all times; then there is those friends you have at the time, whether they last or not that’s another story (and whether they show up at your birthday or not that’s yet another story!); then you have your cats and your books and your dolls that perhaps you haven’t touched in years but you know that they’ll be there in case you need to re-enact your stories while you edit them again…  So you don’t have a boyfriend like everyone else does, big deal! So you haven’t been published or won any of the contests you’ve applied to, big deal!  Wait, so you did have a boyfriend once, but he broke up with you twice in a row on Christmas Eve through a text message because he was cheating on you with his ex, surely that’s no big deal either!  Wait a bit again, you’re exaggerating, cos you did have a boyfriend during Christmas once, before the other creep, remember?  The really depressive one that was so bad for you that tipped you over the edge as you were crossing into your twenties?  That one, poor soul, I hope he’s recovered as I have, cos there is no way I could wish anyone to stay in that unhealthy emotional state at all!  Bless him and let him succeed in his path…  The other one?  Yeah, sure, bless him too, but can I use my powers and ask Bridget to put a few more trials in his path…?  …Um, no…?  Oh, well, it was worth asking anyway…

So, there you go, I ended up opening up about Christmas Blues again… whatever happened to make the subject come out in this way, I have no idea, but one thing is for sure: if I can turn my life around and be able to see things in a new light, anybody can… and I am one of those people I used to hate a decade ago, those that go “Cheer up, everything will be all right”, but I don’t care!  In fact, I love being one of those people…  Whatever I needed to get rid of, so many old fears and aches, so that I can open my arms wide and receive everything I’m working so hard for, has been worth the turbulence – I’ve even used turbulence now as a way of shaking fears off!  I wrote about that for Clarity Found.

One more thing I can say for sure, or repeat, rather, is that being in a relationship where you don’t just feel happier than you’ve ever felt before, but also healthier and more motivated, can only mean good things have arrived.  So, if I cried this past Christmas because I missed the one man I’m proud to always call the love of my life, it wasn’t me falling back into depression, but me being angry at the Universe because I’d finally found someone who I’m that happy and healthy with and I was still thrown into solitude at Christmas… and don’t get me started on what St Valentine’s day used to mean to me!!  Basically, you could read this same entry placing Valentine’s everywhere it says Christmas, and, save the thing about sharing a room with family members, it’d just read the same!  I could have just written an entry on Valentine’s Day’s Blues and been done with it, but fortunately I’m with my man now, so I don’t want to blemish our healthy relationship by naming today’s entry that way, hehe…  And on a blessed Friday 13, nonetheless!  It was just a man-less Christmas that brought past dark emotions up during December; that’s the irony of my life for you, and I’ve accepted it so far, but it still breaks me a little once in a while.  It’s only a matter of accepting that even the happily ever after will have its moments of ups and downs… He told me the other day that we’re not living a happy ending, but instead we’re starting a happy begging; that’s the best way to start a life with someone.  One of this days I’ll talk about books or movies or worldly events again, I promise… for now I’m basking in the delicious boost Glastonbury proved in my healing, so I’ll keep sharing my enjoyment with the town, with Stephen, and with my path…

…and remember that If I bring in sorrows from the past it’ll be to release them and bring in words of wisdom for other travellers instead…

I leave you all with those happy thoughts, and hope you’ll have a delightful Valentine’s weekend ahead of you!

…Even those of you who’re without a Valentine, cost that special someone is somewhere in your path – and also, it can be nicely celebrated between friends, anyhow ;)

Joy, love and brightest blessings,

Sandra Tena ≈ Writer, dreamer, healer, lover

Glastonbury Tales, pt. 1

For a few weeks now, I’ve been thinking that it could be a good idea, albeit a very dangerous one, to name one of my short story collections from sometime in the future “Glastonbury Tales”. You can just imagine the kind of answer I’ve gotten from the people I’ve mentioned it to.  Yep, they range from “Aw, cute, but be careful with it”, to eyebrow rise and a bit of a scoff.  However, instead of a series of short stories told by whatever range of quirky characters I could come up with for this wondrous town, a series of true telling of my emotional odyssey to finally get here?  I mean, yes, a little bit here on the blog, as I’ve been doing for a year now and will carry on for as long as inspiration flows, but also, how about making that my autobiography? Or biopic, if Stephen wants in and we make into a partnership project?  How fun, we’re already planning it, actually…  It could be a biopic based on a double-biography…  Caution: mind working, beware of future possible tangents…

Anyhu, I’m here now, after years of never knowing where I was going or where I was coming from, I’m home.  Glastonbury is a place where there is as much kookiness as there is healing and spirituality, I know; I’m not saying it’s perfect, and it may yet give me a few downfalls, just like Merano, Vancouver and even London did back in the day, but that’s not what matters.  I’ve grown and evolved enough to know that all the shimmer and glitter in the world doesn’t take the darkness and gloominess away from a place or situation, because life brings dark-patches here and there whether we want them or not, and to run away from them is never the answer because they will follow you… I learned this way back when I was 18, returning crestfallen from Merano, where I’d thought I’d finally belong because Italy was surely full of artists who would at long last understand me, right?  Wrong!  It got so bad at a certain point, that I was offered to change city, moving to Milan with another family in the exchange program.  Yet Merano enticed me to stay with the promise of a first love, a first kiss, and a chuck-load of friends.  So I took my chance and stayed!  But my first love was unrequited, my first kiss consisted of the right place but the wrong person and the wrong feelings, and the chuck-load of friends vanished in time and space as our hands grew tired of writing and our minds could not remember more news to give in a life that carried on pretty much the same whenever we stood to look back at it – at least that’s what it was in my case!

I often wondered what’d been if I’d moved to Milan, but that question ceased to exist once I realised that my reasons would have been the same in moving from Merano to Milan than they’d been on the move from Durango to Merano: running away.  It didn’t matter anymore after a few years – six or seven, perhaps, too many for a heartbroken soul.  It didn’t hurt any longer after a bit more.  (Or does the hurt have to stop before it ceases to matter?) It didn’t even come back to my memory until a few weeks ago, when I was on the eve of the move again and I came across old files in folders forgotten and boxes of memories that do not make sense anymore...  Not that I see those Italian months as a tragedy left behind to be forgotten, not at all by any means!  I think that what makes it unsurpassably good, is all that I learned from it, however long or short it took me to understand those lessons and put them to action.  I mean, the learning comes from bits and pieces of the past, doesn’t it?  So mine comes from Durango, Monterrey, Chihuahua, Ann Arbor, and, as much as it pains me to say it, from Vicente Guerrero as well, and the three first are ongoing at that, but when it comes to that big Bam!-You-fell-and-you-have-to-get-up-on-your-own kind of moment, Merano is very much it for me…  Although, strangely enough, the rush of memory and re-realisations came from finding my old pictures of my Summer of acting school in Vancouver.  There the only thing that truly went askew was my unrealistic belief that I was going to be discovered by a big-time producer and be carried off into the spotlights and the flashes of fortune and fame (away, away from my classmates who thought me weird and confused)…  Of course, I also got carried away by believing once again that the friends I’d make would be there forever and give me that bit of a turnaround my social-life needed…  No can do, chickaree – wait, doesn’t rhyme…  Never mind, I was just making the point that as long as I’d want the place to save me, I would have to be thrown back to the ring.  Well, I did get an amazing thing from it, other than the funky learning of course, and that was my full-face shot right by Steve Zhan in Bandidas, a little after minute three goes by.  My hair is blonde in the film, btw, so you might have to look a couple of times if you were expecting the pitch-black that I’m known for today (my natural colour, btw, though that fact may surprise many).

As for England, well, I’m not counting Newcastle as a place that I ran away to, because that was a perfectly planned learning experience, quite literally – in every way!  And it was also perfectly timed by the Universe, because it made sure that every little bit of life that I chose while living there would bring me something positive, even if it was taking the wrong class, dating the wrong guys, or getting the wrong dissertation advisor…  All of those things, as negative as they may sound, were there to give a turn which would take me to a better place than the one I was thinking I was getting to, but there was also one more factor that made it become a more successful journey than its predecessors: this time around I was not running away from anything.  Sure, I was running towards a specific goal, and sometimes I ran for longer than needed because I kept thinking that my goal was on another route, hence my referring to myself a few months back as the Woman Who Ran (which I still get a kick out of, btw), but that was different… And that was exactly what made my experience in London take a different shape than I had originally expected, because I thought my goal was there, when indeed it was just going to be an important part of the trajectory, where I’d be making a lot of pits-stops for healing and nurturing, and from where I’d have to keep going back to Mexico a few times for the same reasons to that I could have enough power in body, mind and soul (the heart always had even more than enough) to get to my real destination: Glastonbury.  Who knew?  I certainly didn’t, but it was worth it taking everything step necessary to discover it, to hang around long enough so that I’d get the chance to find that new route towards my goals – I mean, I’ve been saying for a few months now that indeed my true home is in Stephen’s arms, so it could as well have been back to Newcastle if that part of the project had been successful, or back to London if he says he wants to go for it at the West End or any such theatre venues, or back to Mexico with him by my side if things get rickety here, but the real point of this whole telling (of this first part within the telling) is that when you stop a little bit just to listen and focus on the signs, you might be told exactly what you need to do or where you need to go to get closer to your goal…  I like that – I love that about London because it taught me the hard way that when in London I should always follow my intuition, and I love that about Durango because it never stops reminding me to check myself and see if I’m missing anything…

But you know what, I’m gonna leave it here this time, and carry on with part 2 next week, because I didn’t even start speaking about the plane and the horrible turbulence and how I shook lots of fears away like that, cos that story deserves its own time and lots of space and I will happily comply with it.  So I leave you with my best wishes of brightest blessings, and let my limbs and mind take a little rest after all the running I’ve done…

Sandra Tena ≈ Writer, healer, dreamer, lover

First learning of 2015

Hello kind readers!  I come to you today with an announcement:  I’ve decided to turn Clarity Found into a full business webpage instead of a blog, hence my sudden disconnection from the other blogs… it’s been a bit of work, and it will take some time, but I will have it open and running soon, and it will all be worth it.  Also, every blog will undergo a bit of editing, and this one will undergo a major reconstruction.  Yes, this is me advertising for myself, because we all need to start creating our success somehow, don’t we?

But before I change a few things around here, I want to say how grateful I am to have had this amazing outlet for healing and bringing balance into my life, and how grateful I am to have had your support throughout this amazing journey!  Among the alterations I will make, all the entries that have to do with healing (energetic/ritualistic/writing) will be edited to go into Clarity Found, and all the ones that have to do with literature will be edited to go into Inkwells and Daydreams.  I will leave bits and pieces of them in here, with links into the other pages.

Truth be told, I feel like I went into a Me me me me me rampage that 1) helped me break loose from a few annoying thought patterns and habits, and 2) if I leave them here and not use them for whatever healing they were put into my life, for my benefit and that of others, my energy will drain and this tool will become useless again…  Everything has to do with the flow!  And energy and knowledge must flow so that healing becomes real in every aspect!

I’m happy to say that during these first few weeks of 2015 (in which I’ve also turned 33, what a symbolic number!), many things have gotten organized in my head, including how to overcome the blockages and fears that were still keeping me frozen (even in my overdue happiness).  So it’s not all been in vain, even though a lot of that rambling had to do with vanity, hehe.  Sorry, couldn’t help myself (nor did I want to).

But it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also share another thing I’ve learned in this period of 180° life-changes!  It’s true what they say: when you speak too much and fall into the “please right here right now” sort of wishful talking with people, even those who you think know you better might misunderstand the true intention behind your almost desperate attempt to make something happen, and they might also misunderstand why you’re actually glad things didn’t happen that way at all!  I would say, trust that the Universe will always know what’s best for you, and how, when it doesn’t give you something, it’s because something else a thousand times better is coming your way… I’d been saying this for a really long time, although perhaps I wasn’t saying it in the right words… So, my advice as well: don’t talk too much, or a) you might be misunderstood, b) your energy might drain from letting it loose too soon or to the wrong people, or c) it might create more stagnation for you because either of the previous points or because now you’ll shrink in fear from the pressure…  The drainage I mentioned above started sometime around Christmas, but luckily I caught it now and can do something about it, and that’s why I’ll make the mentioned changes.

OK, this is getting a bit sad and serious… let me see, do I have anything good to say about this subject?  Why yes, I do: you can also turn things around for yourself if that situation ever does happen!  You can talk to the Universe, always and forever…  Whatever name you give it, whatever God you pray to, whatever form of Energy you connect to when you need to, He/She/It will always hear you, and there is never a time too late to ask for help and get you in the right track… There is no shame in admitting you manifested wrong, and your guides are always by your side to make sure you’re back on track when you’re ready again.

As for me, there will be many ways I will keep telling my story (snippets of it are already in some of my writings), and because the Universe has let me known that everything I’ve been open about here can be used for further healing of myself and others (as I’ve also been open in saying before), I will keep using my writing to that effect, and I invite each one of you to do the same, or to look for your own system of release for healing…  And learn to connect so it is beneficial to you and everyone it touches.  And on that happy note I go for now, because I have an online business to open and my writer’s blog to update, and I will gladly invite you all to check them out when the time comes :)

Well, one more thing: I will keep writing from my happiness.  I discovered a while back that it’s not true that a writer has to be all sad and broody to come up with interesting things to tell, so I’ll remain in my uplifted state and feel proud of all the blessings I have, of the love I found and of my abilities as a writer and healer, so there will be no change about that in this blog!

Cheers to all and keep coming back to see the changes I’m talking about and the new stuff that I’ve got planned for 2015… and of course every other learning I come across as the year goes by!  Those will be shared every single time!

Have a good weekend everyone, and thank you once again for keeping me going!  Cheers!

Favourite authors birthday list... :D

Soooo, because I'm hurring to deliver my writings on my own goal-set thinghy that I did last week, the voice in my head told me to do this list today, hehe... I will use it for my literary purposes, including a birthday section on Inkwells and Daydreams, but maybe just now that the year is begining, one of my lovely readers might want to know some of these birthdays and do a bit of a celebration of their own, so everybody wins...
As far as you know me, btw, since Fforde and Murakami are coming up (and I share my birthday with Murakami, who knew?), I will deliver a couple surprises back here on Sunday and Monday, so come back and check them out ;)

Incredible authors who guided me thorugh my growth, words, and daydreams!  I hope they inspire you as much as they've done me, and that this information is useful to you:

 

JRR Tolkien January 3

Jasper Fforde January 11

Haruki Murakami January 12

Lewis Carroll January 27

Charles Dickens February 7

Gabriel García Márquez March 6

Douglas Adams March 11

Octavio Paz March 31

Charlotte Brontë April 21

William Shakespeare April 23

JM Barrie May 9

 Alfonso Reyes May 17

Arthur Conan Doyle May 22

Salman Rushdie Jun 19

Dan Brown June 22

George Orwell June 25

Alice Munro July 10

Alexandre Dumas July 22

Emily Brontë July 30

JK Rowling July 31

Jorge Luis Borges August 24

Agatha Christie September 15

F. Scott Fitzgerald September 24

Carlos Ruiz Zafón September 25

Miguel de Cervantes September 29

Oscar Wilde October 16

Michael Ende November 12

Louisa May Alcott November 29

Jane Austen December 16

Augusto Monterroso December 21

Benjamín Tena Antillón December 31

Blessings and Resolutions

First things first: Tolkien’s Day! Whoo-hoo!  Today is Master Tolkien’s birthday, everybody, and as such, because I always like to do something symbolic on this day, I’ve opted to post today instead of yesterday… That being said, off we go:

Because I am already switching the Top-X Books-of-the-year lists to Inkwells and Daydreams, I won’t post my Top-20 Books of 2014 here, as I’d planned originally…  well, I won’t post it there, either, but instead a Top-15!  Turns out, because of the “low” number of books read (only 40 this year, egad!), I have to make do with a shorter list this time around…  Oh well, let this be a lesson for me to try to keep up with myself during this year and every other one from now on…

So, because I want to begin this year afresh, I want to hug every blessing I’ve had as of late, and then make a huge scary step that will have me pumping myself up so I can actually make my projects happen!  The hugging of the blessings will consist in enumerating everything that’s been valuable and gratifying, of course.  The huge scary step will consist of me posting out in the open my 2015 resolutions!  Hehe, they’re basically my work plan so I can keep myself in check and know that there’s people watching me now and I’ll have to keep up to my writing dates!  I’ve tried something similar previously, and it sort of worked, so now I want to experiment this way.  It’s very Julie Powell, I know, but hey, I’m drawing inspiration from her, and I need the pressure!

First of all, the hugs to my lovely blessings:

·         I’ve found the love of my life, a man who not only fulfills my every need but also offers me new adventures, creative challenges and things to learn about.  A man who knows the importance of healing, growing and evolving and who is always ready to lend a hand to anybody who needs it for those same ends.  A man who’s honest and kind and nerdy, and that’s hot! (Ten points for anyone who knows the source of that one, another ten for whomever gets the pun, and thirteen for Stephen Cole, who is surely laughing at this and knowing that I mean it even through the joke, and because regardless of what’s being said online, he would be the perfect 13).

·         I finished Wideawake and sent it to an agent… hooray!  Not that I’ve had any luck yet, but that’s the first scary step that any writer always has to take, and it’s a blessing that I found the courage to do it.

·         I have two books on Amazon Kindle, and that’s not a bad number so far…

·         I have so many good memories to share, from so many places of England and Mexico, as well as many other places of the world; some might be shared through stories, others maybe verbally at gatherings, but they’ve all been blessed with joy and harmony.

·         I’ve got so many friends in the mentioned and unmentioned places of the world, and some I know in person and others I don’t, but they’re all bright little beacons that I follow when I need cheering up, serious advice, or maybe just a funky laugh!

·         I’ve got an amazing family, loving and supportive (with our highs and lows, just like most, but always there for each other) (and who are worth taking last week’s post momentarily down for; in a few weeks you will understand).

·         I’ve had the chance to come and see Alanis again (and will be forever grateful that I had the chance to say good-bye to Michigan last year, my ternurita).  Not only am I sharing her room again, but she sometimes comes back up on the bed with me, something that she didn’t do for the few months I last visited…  That’s a huge blessing for me…!

·         I have managed to keep up a blog for a year now, yay!  And have opened another two, all of which I have huge plans for…  I am officially a freelance writer, and that’s something that the disbelievers will have to get used to…  I have come this far now, and I feel proud.

·         I have three things to say about the following picture: 1) it doesn’t matter if it’s blurry, it’s still one of my favourite pictures ever taken, 2) it is the perfect image to show how far I’ve come, all I’ve become and all the blessings I’ve received, and 3) it’s a picture with a story: a past and a future, the things we choose to take with us and why, the roads we take to get to where we want and the thresholds we cross when we find ourselves in front of them… this picture is a blessing in itself!

 

And now, for the big scary step… drumroll... My resolutions for 2015 are:

1.       By the end of January I will upload Tales from the Rooftop on Amazon Kindle (yes, I mean Cuentos de la Azotea, English version!)

2.       By the end of January, as well, I will have the intro, full chapter list, cover letter, synopsis and pitch for the non-fiction book.  (Oh, I will not be posting actual titles for my non-published stuff on this entry, just so you know…  But every success I post when I see I’m managing these resolutions will contain those titles, of course!)

3.       I will take a month to copy and clean all the notes I’ve been doing during my research for my five-part saga

4.       I will take 5 months to write every segment of the first book of the saga, to have the first draft of that novel ready for editing

5.       Every month I will upload an entry of each blog weekly, whatever it takes.  My days of choice for them will be Monday for Clarity Found, Thursday for Inkwells and Daydreams, and Friday remains for That Voice in my Head, but I retain the right to change it in any given week because of eventualities or just external reasons

6.       I will translate of The Shadow Behind (that’s right people, my mission is to have both my Kindle books in English this year, so those of you who want to read La Sombra Detrás will get to at some point this year…)

7.       I’ll give myself a day each month (to be selected as they come) to relax and try to come up with a new short story for the second collection.  I won’t pressure myself with it, I’ll just do my best and if by the end of the year I have six or seven workable short stories, I will feel blessed…  If I have twelve then I will probably YouTube my happy dance, I don’t know…

8.       I’ll open and keep my YouTube channel for literary, healing and creative purposes

9.       I’ll give myself time for plenty of reading, lots of learning, Doctor Who filming, many rituals of different kinds, and to always say hi to my people through every social media and of course in person

10.   I will read at least one more book than last year (might have to do this each year till I manage to get to 52 again…  please don’t let 2013 to have been a one-time thing!)

11.   I’ll also do something symbolic on the anniversaries of all of my favourite authors

12.   I’ll be kind to myself and remember that sometimes I can only do my best, and my best shall be rewarding because it will be done with love…!

 

Anyone thinks this is too much?  That I’m putting too much on my plate?  Well my dears, this is what I’ve been doing lately, anyway…!  Let’s say that this is why I got so overwhelmingly tired over the past few months, even though I was doing other types of writing.  In any case, this is the amount of work I chose to go into, because I love it and because I can’t imagine my life without it…

So there you go…  Eek!  Now I have to make it happen…  Excuse me for a moment, I’m going to be writing for the next 347 hours, nobody disturb me please…!

Cheers, world!  And happy New Year!!

Sincerely,

Sandra Tena ≈ Writer, dreamer, healer, lover.