What to do in case of an earthquake

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Today it's been two years. It was nearly midnight on January 12th 2010.   My older brother had posted a few messages on Facebook, announcing that the earth was rattling pretty badly in the Dominican Republic and the rest of our island.  A few hours later, I became aware that a terrible earthquake had taken place in the poorest country of the Western hemisphere.  It was impossible to read and watch the news about Haiti without feeling devastated. Almost paralysed of sorrow and horror, I called my parents back home.

“Ay mi hija, it is indescribable, so terribly sad.  If you can, send some money, we’ll find a way to help.There is not much more you can do just now”.  My parents said over the phone when I broke in tears.

My immense urge to give was greater than anything at that moment. I regretted living so far away. I wished that instead of being a teacher, I was a doctor, a nurse, a rescuer or a wealthy person so I could do something for Haiti. Still sobbing, I asked myself:  “What can you do for Haiti?  Think!  You can’t just sit and cry!”

 

By inwardly repeating this question, the few things I have learned in Buddhism revealed to me:  that clinging to our own sorrow or anger paralyses us from acting positively; that any problem or difficulty is an opportunity to practice loving kindness and compassion; and, as I once heard the Dalai Lama say: that one should never, under any circumstance, lose hope.  With these thoughts in my mind and reassuring myself that when I wake up I’d be calmer and more able to find an answer, I eventually fell asleep.

At the crack of dawn, I started to post messages on Facebook.  I was asking my network to donate money for Haiti, with the simple reasoning that whatever I could collect would surpass what I alone could give. "If I can give hundred euros, maybe I can triple that. I'd be more than happy with five hundred" I said to myself.

The response was overwhelming. An incredible domino effect followed:  after that fateful night, what started as a tear of powerlessness, anger and sorrow, turned into an unstoppable wave of donations that lasted for about 8 weeks. People started to drop money in my bank account, in my mailbox, in my hands.  Friends of friends started to donate and ask money on my behalf. Students and colleagues knocked on my office door with an envelope in their hands. Every extra cent was another update on my Facebook status, and a personal tag on the logo that symbolised this campaign (see picture). 



The donations were channeled through two Dominican-based emergency operations: Helping Hand Haiti (www.helpinghandhaiti.com), set by my good friend Olivier Flambert and IBG Fund, a charity set by the Baptist Church, to which my mum and older brother belong.  Contrary to the negative media messages regarding the slow reach of foreign aid, these small donations were used inmediately and reached the victims directly. I could provide donors with visual evidence of how their money was being used by posting photographs of the emergency actions on my Facebook page. These constant updates contributed greatly to the credibility of my efforts. Before I knew how much more I was to collect, I had given birth to the I♥HAITI campaign.

I honestly never felt so humble in my life.  I learned that being a teacher was indeed the right profession to help Haiti: 95% of the donations came from my network of students, colleagues and alumni from The Hague University. Without their trust and genuine giving, the nearly 59,000 euros (yes, fifty-nine thousand!) collected would not have been possible.   I also learned that my students can become my heroes and inspiration. One of my heroines in this effort is my friend and ex-student, Lubomira Kirilova. She replicated  the campaign at the European Patent Office in The Hague. Her trust & selfless dedication resulted in collecting more than 50,000 euros. With a result like that, who dares regret being a teacher?

I also learned another valuable lesson:  choosing a spiritual path is not merely a question of faith, but of genuine practice of the heart.  Regardless of belief and vocation, we need to think humanly and act in harmony with our principles and with the planet.  With an increasingly interconnected world, every single action we take, every message we send out, every gesture we make can transgress borders and create a powerful human viral effect. As long as we act together for the cause of love and compassion for others, we can welcome the beautiful future we all can create. We only need to live day-by-day guided by our faith and by our innate capacity to give unconditionally, never abandoning our principles, our values and our ideals.

 

Strength

Every backlash in life is a golden opportunity to rediscover our strength and passionately enact our principles.

The itch of exhaustion

Definition:

When you realise that still there are
so many great things to do,
but you're anxious and exhausted

and your inner flame is gradually fading
after spending too much time doing things
that made you itchy and feel not as great,

only if...


But if you happen to feel the itch of exhaustion,
grab the chance! let it pierce your heart
and be kind to it, don't fear it, listen to it

because it's telling you that it's time
to live again, to create a star from candlelight,
that same star you always wanted to become,

no matter how big or distant,
or simple and humble,
you'll always shine on,

but only if
you remain true
to your real passion.

So close to happiness (with very little effort)

If only we lived constantly
in the flow of this truth:
that we're far away from being perfect

and so close to happiness!

If only we could forgive 
without any doubt
everything can make sense 

with very little effort.

Funny little speech (reflection on the truth & written very, very humbly)

 What was that shit-whole something all about?

What’s the purpose of it if not to honour the truth in hilarious ways? Why would i speak to all of you with false words and white lies when i know that my little speech could lift or break your spirits? or simply put you to sleep? Why would i be false instead of telling you of the intention of my silly words, which is wholesome, even when i fail to make bloody clear what some whole shit is all about?

Forgive me if I curse, I fucking don’t mean it. Forgive me if I forget to acknowledge your ‘little self’ when I get distracted by my ample ego. Forgive me if you expected me to entertain you like a stand-up comedian, but fuck it! I won't. And this is the simple truth: 'me sucks at jokes, even at cleverly ones'. 

Now

There's no before, there's no after... NOW is the only eternal state of liberation.

'Aspirante equilibrista' (To Elenia, who inspired the title and the thought).

If in order to test your sense of equilibrium you would walk on a long high cable hung between two skycrapers, don't look down: the harmony and beauty of chaos will leave you in awe and you might as well feel like jumping.

The path is now

My death will not be long enough to give sufficient rest to the sufferings I’ve had in this life.   Before a new day breaks in or an old day fades away, I will be in the seed that soon anounces the birth of a baby boy or a baby girl.  Again, I will get another chance to learn from old sorrows, and to seek and find true happiness throughout the endless line of life.  But before dying this time and crawling again some day, I’d better make sure  that I sketch my future path graciously and righteously;  now when I can still walk firmly, with clear eyes and loving hands, and a heart full of faith.

Gratitude (to my family, friends, teachers and kind strangers... you are the nightingales in my life)

The Nightingale and the Rose
(Image by http://pjlynchgallery.blogspot.com)

That freezing night, one of the many that I've felt hopeless and lonesome, I let my doors wide open as if wanting the wind to blow me out of my world and dissolve my tears in faraway mists.

But instead of the wind, that same night, as if seeking shelter, a flock of birds flew into the wide room of my cold, trembling silence. One by one, they approached me and with their tiny peaks, they pierced my chest with hungry kindness.  Hungry for my aching love, for the sour nectar of my sadness, they perched my heart and drank the thirst of my solitude, of my abandonment.

And they sang and perched, and they perched and sang my song of hollow regrets and ancient sorrows.  With each note, they gently hushed the laments of my cracking voice.  And touch after touch after touch, the silence became all wings until it was not painful anymore.

That long night I made a promise to honour and not to taint the echo and the tunes of the breeze that carry the melodies of compassionate nightingales, who selflessly offered me their loving thirst to help me mend my broken dreams.  And ever since,  when I hear their harmonious notes,  my chest grows and blossoms into hundreds of splendorous roses, willingly offering to be perched once again.

Tonight, doors wide open, I stand fearless as I wave to the chilled blows of the passing wind.  I invite the nightingales in, so they can drink from the sweet and pouring gratitude of my garden, and find a home in the loving embrace of new-born red petals.

(This note has been inspired by the teachings of the Dharma and by Oscar Wilde's "The Nightingale and the Rose", but when searching for a suitable image, I learned that Florence Nightingale is the woman who is the mother of modern nursery and was a very caring person.  It is a beautiful coincidence!).

Spiritual Reflection on Suicide and Re-encarnation (for those whom I knew, but left life by their own means)

"If in that one conversation I had with you, we had talked about suicide, this is what I would have told you that I had learned so far, now wishing that I knew then of your terrible suffering:

To rob your own life is a  lost opportunity to practice gratitude and compassion for those who have loved you, even if you never knew of their intended kindness. To offer your life for the happiness of others is the ultimate selflessness, but not when you lose your own battle against hope. 

To honour life is, for both situations, the middle way, the only way.  

If only you came to this realisation, your path to happiness would not be as harsh as you think it is when you consider suicide.  And if by misfortunes you fail into the delusion of self-hate and helplessness, but the fountain of your love and the pureness of  your intention are greater,  the greater is the chance for you to get to unfold and cultivate this truth as a higher being, in future lives.

And this is what I tell you my neighbour, my love, my friend, now that you have walked this terrible patch:   No, it's not too late for this conversation:  nobody judges you or blames you, somewhere, just now, life is welcoming again the blessing of your pure and genuine heart.  And this time, I pray for your happiness, that in your new rebirth you will be able to love and forgive all your demons.  I chant for you to glow once more, this time like a star that shines with bliss and never vanishes, even in the cloudiest  night.

With these words, I close my eyes and imagine myself warmly holding a new-born baby, as if she or he was mine".

Dharma, like the wind

The breeze, the eagles,
without you, they drop backwards
or lose firm balance.

Like an old sailor
or a child and her first kite,
we praise your teachings.

In our own prison,
without you, we cannot sing
true songs of freedom.

You hold our faint words,
our stories of old sorrows
as we search for wings.

In the middle of the storm,
with you, we fly in stillness
as we chant and breathe.

Free from fear to fall,
completely silent, we drift,
we let it all be as it is.

In vast deep skies,
with you, our holy gift, our path,
we travel through the clouds

to where all is transparent

and free.