The Bucket List: work in progress

I've had an ongoing bucket list for a while now...  I think originally I called it my "List of things to do before 30," but that was when I started it as a senior in high school or something.  I was inspired by Mandy Moore or someone like that who said in a magazine article that she had a list of 30 things to do before she turned 30.  Well, 30 is looking a lot closer to me now than it ever did before, so I'm not going to be that ambitious.  Many of the items on my list are either time-consuming or costly or both.  Anyway, I still have that first list I made on a piece of receipt paper while at work in a department store, and since then I come back to it every once in a while and realize how important it is to udpate that list.  A few of the items I can check off, but some of them don't seem as relevant or desirable or realistic as they maybe once did.  Now that I'm more mature and have more experience, I have a better understanding of how to construct such a list -- because now I put items on it that I can see myself actually doing someday.

These are in no particular order, by the way:

• Live and work in Havana, Cuba
• Road trip across America
• Attend Mass in the Vatican
• Hike part or all of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela
• Run a half-marathon
• ^ and if that goes well, then a full marathon!
• Own a dog
• Achieve fluency in French and Portuguese....and maybe Italian
• Write a book (and get it published, hopefully)
• Have an awesome map and globe collection
• Get a vintage Tiffany lamp
• ONE OF THOSE GREEN LAMPS!!!
• Do a vintage-style pinup photoshoot
• Visit every Spanish-speaking country in the world
• Speak British on the streets of London (i.e. visit the U.K.!)
• Do a mission/service trip
• Be a lector in church
• Find a new home parish where I can be really involved again
• Have a starring role in a theatrical production
• Eat Belgian waffles in Belgium
• Stand inside the famous Stonehenge (are you even allowed to do that?)
• Learn Latin
• Take a calligraphy class
• Be a potted plant parent : D
• Visit a real cowboy ranch!
• Run freely like a little kid on the wide open plains of Montana or somewhere-Western like that
• Give an inspirational talk (TED talk?)
• Visit the Redwood forest
• Meet a toucan in its natural habitat
• Hold a baby sloth
• Learn to (properly) swim
• SEE THE CORAL REEF!
• Find a freaking starfish - alive - in its natural habitat
• Make a masterpiece oil painting

Dear Ellie

To a beloved sister in Christ, brilliant heart, and beautiful young woman.  You remain in my heart forever.

Ellie,

I never called you "Ellie" but it seems that this is a nickname you went by.  I only knew you as Elizabeth, when I knew you in person.  The truth is, I didn't really know you.  Not the way your family or closest friends did.  But I met you at perhaps the most tumultuous time of my life thus far, in a place where we were both so fragile and vulnerable, and you did make an impact on me.  I don't think I realized it then; I was still too involved in my own sickness.  However, the Lord is revealing to me now just how much your spirit changed me and will continue to change me.  Even though we only kept in touch online during the years following those three and a half weeks in 2009, I always held you close to my heart.  I wanted to see you get better.  And I always expected to see you again, in person, once you were healthy.

Honestly, what comes to mind when I think of when we met is how withdrawn you were and how resentful I almost felt toward you.  I think of you standing with your back to everyone in a corner of the room, your head bent down as you read from a book, and your long brown hair reaching all the way down your back.  (Later I found out that book was the Bible.)  I thought you were a very curious young girl.  You always had the saddest, most pained expression on your face, especially when we had to leave the group room for meal and snack times.  I thought of you as somewhat unapproachable and cold.  Yet everything about you intrigued me.

You were five years younger than I and I think the way my heart pulled inside was like an older sister's would.  I am the youngest of three and have no idea what it's like to be someone's older sibling!  But once we finally spoke to each other, I realized my judgments of you were wrong.  I remember standing in a small group of some of the other girls, and we were all sharing our stories (briefly).  We each said how it had happened to us.  I actually remember you appearing all of a sudden, having left the corner of the room for once, to join our little group.  I was surprised and confused; why did you suddenly decide to be social?  It seemed so out of character for you.  But then I realized I did not know your character.  I did not even know your story.

You told me it started when you were only eight years old.  You drank tea all summer long.  And in that moment, my heart ached and my judgments broke apart.  Eight years old??  You were sixteen.  I was twenty-one and had only been suffering for a matter of months.  I could not fathom someone spending half her life in this level of misery, pain, and disease that ravaged the mind and body.  I think that was the moment I felt like your older sister.  I wanted to protect you and save you from this nightmare.  But I was still caught in the nightmare as well.

And here I am, writing this five years later, and my body is restored and my mind is mostly healthy again.  Here I am, looking toward the future and mourning your death.  Five years after we met, you have passed on at the same age I was back then.  I cannot believe you won't get to see a recovered life.  You won't finish college.  You won't get to pick a career and pick another one if the first one didn't work out.  You won't get to take your time figuring out what to do with your life and trying out different options (because there are far too many).  You won't experience a healthy mind that lets you nourish your body so you can feel young and strong and go on adventures to see your friends (like me!) again.  You won't get to feel the euphoria of accomplishment after overcoming the toughest parts of this disease.  You won't know what it is to look over your struggles in hindsight and smile because you triumphed despite them.

I know you had a will to recover.  But I also know that you suffered for too long.  You never deserved it and I wish I could take the pain of those years for you and give you the gifts of my recovery instead.

For that reason, I will make sure you still have a chance to change the world.

I will live my recovery in the best way possible.  I will do everything I can to be fulfilled and contribute to the world what this disease took from me, you, and all the others: joy, passion, wonder, excitement, energy, youth, courage, motivation, inspiration, productivity, health, and vivacity.  You see, dear Ellie, I am going to take your spirit with me everywhere in life and do all the things you could not.  I will do it all in your honor, and for the greater good and the glory of God.  We'll do it all together.

You had such faith and I always admired you for it.  You believed in the value of life and so do I.  Therefore, I will make sure I take this piece of your heart on our big adventure as well.  I'll do my best to promote the values you and I shared, and live in a way that makes a positive difference for everyone who suffers.  I'll help bring awareness and save lives however I can.

You have inspired me to live fully, and never go back to that dangerous path.  I know you didn't choose it, but you also could not control it.  And I know how scary that is.  But you don't have to be afraid anymore, because you are in paradise and will never be touched by Ed again.  My heart is heavy but happy, knowing the Lord is taking care of you and protecting you for all of eternity.

Elizabeth, as infuriated as I am that your life was interrupted while you were working hard to get better, I know you did not die in vain.  You see, when I went home in 2009, I tried to go back to the way I had been living (existing, really) with Ed before I met you and the others, but I could not.  Something had changed.  I remember the moment.  I was eating lunch on the stoop in my backyard, and I looked down at my food in the sunlight, at the mound of Cool Whip Free over fruit and realized that this was not the same.  Something was different -- vastly so.  It simply would not work anymore.  It couldn't.  At the time I didn't know why and I was frustrated by it.  But I believe that is the moment my true recovery began.

You were one of the many people I encountered in Waltham who changed my life and kickstarted my recovery.  Do you see?  Because of you, of knowing that you had been suffering for half your life, and seeing you there in that place, because of how young you were and how devastating this disease already was to your life, I must have wanted the opposite for myself (and for everyone else, of course).  It didn't make sense for me to meet someone like you, and all our other friends, only to go home and continue on the same treacherous path I had been on.  True, this is not a lifestyle, but somehow I believe God gave me the extra strength to say "no" and begin a new life.  It did take time -- in fact, it took more time to recover than to be sick -- but God gave me everything I needed to get through it.  I still believe He had a plan for me the whole time.  He never meant for me to stay sick for very long.  I feel charged with carrying my knowledge, experience, and memories to help conquer this disease and all the obstacles it brings to the beautiful people it attacks.  I am taking your memory and spirit, Ellie, with me to prove to society, individuals, and the world that recovery is worthwhile and involves a whole lot more than what we get in treatment.

Recovery means taking risks.  It means diving in to being present in your body and your Self so that you can know what it is to truly live.  Getting to know myself better, learning from mistakes, and meeting wonderful people like you, Ellie, have all helped me become my greatest ally.  If I am not on my own side, then I can more easily fall victim to Ed or any other evil force in the world.  I also have to trust in God and recognize that He is greater than anything in this world.  Your death, Ellie, is quite a tragedy, but I also have to take a leap of faith in my heart and trust that you really are in a better place.  We don't need to worry about you anymore.  We only need to thank God for our memories of you and keep your spirit alive in our hearts.  And for me, well, I already know I'm taking you on the grandest adventure ever -- for I'm going to take you in my pocket all the days of my life.  Even when I was driving home last night, alone for over three hours and a little anxious when I got lost in the beginning, I imagined you sitting in the seat next to me.  I imagined you there with me, smiling and enjoying my company.  I imagined you as your own free self, separate from Ed and all the troubles you ever had.  I imagined you as my friend.

Thank you for being there with me, Ellie.  Thank you for the beautiful message you sent me a few weeks ago, before my trip to Mexico.  You told me that I am an inspiration and need reminding.  Your words were so powerful to me and I am so thankful that that was the last exchange we ever had.  I am in tears but it's okay.  I'm glad that God blessed me and you with our acquaintance, however brief.  Take care, and I'll see you on the road.

Love always,
Alissa

My Body, My Choice (Re-post from my Facebook status)

I wish the "my body, my choice" frame of mind could be applied to reactions to the fashion, diet, fitness, and media industries. WHY aren't women everywhere screaming this at all those businesses who are trying to get money off us by telling us our bodies are not as they should be? Who is anyone to say that my stomach should be flat or my arms should have a little bicep definition or I should have a thigh gap?! It's MY BODY, MY CHOICE. I can freely tell the whole world right now that I weigh considerably more than most female celebrities who are considerably taller than I am, as well as the ones who are my same height. I can also tell you that this is no indication of my health or the world's perception or acceptance of my physical self. So if I make the personal decision that I am okay with some flab and softness and curviture - that I can still travel and sing and dance and make friends and write and learn foreign languages with the body I am in - then that should be good enough for anyone, including myself with all its conflicting parts. If I am squishy to the touch and not hard or compact, that shouldn't be anything that complete strangers in some office building in a big city far, far away can have the authority to demand I change - so they can profit off it. Yes, we'll always want to be thinner. But when you get a second chance at life you kind of realize that truly LIVING is more important. So I refuse to give in to these fake worlds of calories and nutrition myths and diet foods (i.e. chemical shit) and time and clothes. I know my body well - I have been cruel to it and I have learned to respect it. It does so much for me. So if I want breakfast in the middle of the night because I come back from salsa and my tummy feels empty, I will refuel it and not care that it is the middle of the night. If I want to wear a cute dress that bares my flabby arms because the dress is cute and it's a sunny day and I'm young and enjoy smiling at people and feeling pretty in a girly dress, then I will wear the damn dress. I will look the other way when Ed tries to distract me. I will focus on being a beautiful woman - forward, classy, Godly, colorful, musical, passionate, cultural, and downright elegant.

You owe it to yourself
to live while you're alive.
To drink up the flavors of youth
and spread your magic everywhere
To be enamored by the fact that
you are here,
and not mistakenly so.
You were meant to be amazing,
and to know it by the way
you live your life.
We were meant to see your radiance
and feel its warmth touch our own lives,
encouraging our spirits to soar
Until we stop caring about not caring.

You have to give a shit
about yourself
us, the known, the unknown,
the Present,
Because you were put here
in Love.
You have no right to see yourself
as anything less than loved,
created in love, swathed in Love.
There's no such thing as wasting time
Just wasting life
and wasting love.

Dare to spread lies and rumors about your unending worth.
Put on your acting hat
and live a grand love affair of fantasies
that lift you up,
until one day, you realize they were always true.
That you can achieve and blossom
and that your dreams hold value
because they came from you,
a product of Love.

Fake it until you make it.

You can't afford anything less
than your best self
and neither can we.
You, unique, holy, sacred, held
and blessed to perfection
because you are who you were created to be.

Devour every moment that permits your beauty
to seep into every pore
of every being
and every crevasse of every space.
Be so fabulous you might even faint.
(But no need to feint your fabulosity...)

Let us all refuse the tragedy of treasured misery
The petty marathon of woes
The stillness of lackluster perspective.
Let no one keep you in their pigpen
If they cannot cradle you in their heart.

Silence, laughter, breath, water, crickets, stars
Blackness, light
A twinkle in our bodily system
You've got the idea, right?

The Spanish Z

I find the softness of the Spanish Z so sensual.  The way, as a native English speaker, you anticipate a rough sound, like the buzz in "buzz," but instead find a beautiful S disguised as a Z is just...un pedazo of why I adore this language so much.  The contrast is alluring and charming, like actual proof of the different perspectives each culture has, demonstrated in the very strucutre of their languages.  Spanish is passionate and fiery, yet it's so lyrical and elegant.  Refined and musical.  Natural.  Hermoso.

Some Spanish words with a lovely soft Z:

Regazo
Perezoso
Triza
Esperanza
Mestizo
Avergonzada
Arroz
Zanahoria
Zapatos
Paz
Lápiz
Tristeza
Mezcla
Juzgado


Damn, I wish I could think of more.  It's always when I need to think of something specific that I can't.  I'm sure later on I'll realize all the others and feel tonta for not coming up with them earlier.  Oh well!

Making a Living...Finding a Place

I'm still completely baffled by the way God has spoken to me in the last week or so.  I had a crazy awesome encounter with an EMT at work, whom I discovered is Christian as well and totally passionate about his faith.  Oh, did I mention that this happened hours after I spent some quality time in my brain feeling down about the faithlessness of society and doubting whether my own religion is valid anymore?  Then, days later, I had posted on Facebook a status about how I wanted to feel missed, among other things, and guess what happened?  The person I least expected to see at the ER told me, in a conversation, that I am missed.  And she said it more than once, looking into my eyes.  It was as if God Himself were speaking to me!  And the funny thing is, when I wrote that I wanted to be missed, I was thinking of it in a specific way, like from a certain type of person. But after Margie said it to me, I realized how beautiful it was that it came from her.  She's the kind of person many people would overlook at first, based on her appearance (I hate to say that, but it's realistic).  And what I learned from this is that God fulfills our needs in the least expected, most unusual ways sometimes, but with purpose!  How fascinating.  He really knows how to surprise and humble us.

But here I am, still having doubts about my life and what it's worth.  I struggle so much with the things I do -- my art, my singing, my Spanish, my writing, etc. -- because I don't see how they are valued by society at all.  I don't see how I matter on the grand scheme of things.  I don't see how I can escape the typical workforce and create the lifestyle I want: one involving all the activities I just mentioned, plus travel and a general independence.  It seems like the things I do best aren't viewed as professional or legitimate ways of making a living.  But I know that I do them well!  And I feel like I'm wasting my time when I'm not doing them.  Yet here we are, in an age where making money is everything.  I know it shouldn't be that way, but in all honesty, money is kind of a necessity when it comes to shelter, food, clothing, and getting from point A to point B.  And like everyone knows, you can't be an artist and do it for the money.  Or so they say.

So why did God create ME?  Why do all the things I love and the skills I possess cost money but make very little?  How can I actually contribute to the world and not be in agony about where I'm not?  I can't possibly keep up with all my talents and have a day job at the same time for the rest of my life.  How can I just be me, completely enthralled by everything artistic and keep a roof over my head?  I have to escape.  I have to get off the training wheels.  I don't know where I belong and I wish I did.

I have these Discernment Days coming up with the Franciscan Mission Service.  I'm looking forward to the experience, but I still feel on the fence about becoming a lay missioner.  It means putting myself in a place of economic insecurity and not knowing what would come after.  Basically, if I get accepted into the program, I would have to quit my job, go on mission for two years, defer my student loans, use my savings to get by throughout the service term, and hope there's money left to resettle at the end.  And where would that be?  Where would I even begin?  How would I make money?  The thought of coming back home to live with my family of origin just riles me.  I can't let that happen.  And in the meantime, what about my portrait business I've just started up?  What about my singing I want to get back involved with?  What about salsa dancing?  What about the things I want to maintain?  I don't understand how it will all connect and how I can prevent losing any of them forever.

I don't know, I don't know, I just don't know!  I pray to God to show me the way, but I'm not sure it's gotten any clearer.  I know that I am a huge obstacle as well.  I'm afraid of being stuck for the rest of my life and having a serious load of regrets when I'm older.

Everything seems so foggy, so unknown, so unclear.  I thought some things were clear.  I thought I was meant to be a singer, an artist, a Spanish-speaking success.  Well okay, if not any of that, WHAT????

Meaningful moments at Splash

I was completely blown away after salsa tonight.  I was getting ready to leave when David, the man who organizes and makes the salsa series at Splash happen each summer, pulled me over and said, "Come here, I want to talk to you."  I immediately thought it was something bad, even though I had no reason to believe so.

I wish I could have recorded what this man said to me in the next several minutes.  I can't remember his words verbatim, but basically he had taken me aside to tell me how impressed he is by my dancing, how much he loves watching me dance, and how happy he was at my being there. He met me toward the end of last summer, when I was just beginning to learn salsa, and I was still very shaky and lacking in confidence in my abilities.  Tonight he said that I've just blossomed and that I am one of the rare dancers who comes along to salsa and really dances.  "So many people take classes and learn the dance, and they're very good but they're very stylized.  It takes a good teacher to crack that shell and bring out the real dancer.  You're one of those cracked shells."  Those may not be his exact words, but everything he said really struck me.  I kept thanking him but he kept saying, "I'm not joking, I want to make sure you really see me here and see what I'm saying."

I just couldn't get over it.  I've never been a dancer, I've never been truly comfortable in my own skin, I've never had an easy time with letting myself and my body be seen.  Dance challenges all of this in me.  But it's very healthy for me.  I know I've certainly improved in my salsa dancing since last summer, but it's still been less than a year and I still find myself not knowing what the heck I'm doing sometimes.  So it's really shocking that someone would specifically single me out and take the time to speak such wonderful words about my dancing.

But what struck me the most was when David said, taking my hand and looking me in the eyes, "I believe in you."  Inside, I could have cried.  I can't express what this phrase means to me.  I have struggled so much in my lifetime, on so many levels, with self-confidence and faith that I can really do things and be somebody in this world.  I have known so many letdowns, setbacks, and failures with all kinds of things I've tried to accomplish, and one of the things I always felt I needed was to know that someone, anyone, believed in me.  I have so many gifts I want to share with the world and I know that I need to believe in myself first, but I also need to know that what I do makes a difference in the eyes of others.

Tonight I felt appreciated.  I felt that I mattered, that I belong at salsa, that I have grown in another art form so beautiful and captivating not only inside my heart, but in a way that emanates and is visible to others.  David said that I am not like others who dance and don't pay attention to what's going on around them; he said that when I hear a song I love, it shows, because my body starts to interpret the music on its own.  I knew he was saying exactly what I experience.  I'm not just a dancer -- I'm a singer first, so music already has an enormous impact on me, wherever I go.  I don't dance salsa just because I want to move my body.  I dance because I LOVE Spanish and I LOVE Latin music.  It's already settled in my heart, it feels natural, it feels like home.  I love singing in Spanish, and I love the way I feel when I listen to Latin music.  It arouses the real Latina in me, the colorful person I am, and the beauty I feel within the world.  It's like being in a fairytale for a night -- feeling like a princess with nothing but the magic of music and the light it brings.

I am a wholesome young woman with strong passions and dreams.  I only want to get better and better.  I want others to share my hope and my childlike fascinations with art.  I want to be lovely and authentic at every age.  I want to never give up, never stop believing in myself.  I am so blessed to have salsa dancing be such a huge part of my life nowadays.  I'm so happy I started taking lessons last year and that I've stuck with it.  I haven't always been consistent but I know for sure that salsa will always be in my heart.  This wonderful dance brings me so much closer to the woman I dream of being: vibrant, rich in life, multicultural, and joyful.