In Love With Miami

A friend of mine, a fellow succulent, asked my opinion of Miami. I'm taken by surprise. Not at all because I am asked my opinion. It has been part of my life since 2002. Each day I think about my treasured memories from experiences, places, and wonderful people from the city in the sun.

For me, one reason I loved Miami is because I have travelled to 20 countries so far in my life. (All before the vivacious age of 31!) I adore the swirling cultural mix of so many peoples. I adore it, and also it frustrated me at times, too. I suppose the things you love you also hate at times. Or you dislike them when you are first exposed to fresh habits and ways others living more feistily do things. They grow on you. No matter what is happening in my life, I love that I always surround myself with endearing people. People who would do anything for you. People who's mannerisms you treasure with your heart.

I still haven't learned Spanish. I remember our block where we had a small studio apartment seven blocks from the ocean. It was close to an expansive public park in Miami Beach. Some of my neighbors in the building next to me spoke no English. Yes, that in itself is endearing to me now that I am so far away from it: how can one live in an English-speaking country for 20, 30 years and not assimilate into the culture enough to learn the language fluently. There is no need to. Our "abuela" was cuban. My daughter's father was cuban and most of the other cubans we met could clearly see she was cuban. Most everyone adores her even looking at pictures of her, and even moreso when they meet her. She, like me, leaves an impression on the heart. Little Isabella would translate between the neighbors and myself. Isabela went to Lincoln-Marti and then Happy Kids schools, with an abundance of Spanish-speaking teachers.

Ah, the men! I could go on about how sexy these latin men are to me. I could! Even the Cubans after being treated horribly by my ex-husband. Yes, I'm still attracted to the sexy Cubans. However, my friend is not gay so no need to go into details. :) I must sidenotedly say before I moved to south Florida, the majority of the men I dated had been from foreign countries. They simply intrigue me. Still do.

I would say Miami is not for the faint at heart! I absolutely loved careening around in my car on the 836 and the Palmetto going 90 or 95. Yes, my old 1999 Blazer could still do that! That style of driving is certainly not for many. I'm a person in control of my faculties. Aware. And so I simply loved the wild driving down there. I always warned people going down to be careful. Or not to get upset in their taxi rides. The cities down there are so vastly spread out because of the enormous population. It simply takes forever to get anywhere. We lived near Ocean Drive on the beach. If I wanted to "save some money" at Walmart, I would have to haul ass for 20 minutes going 80 or 85. I didn't do it very much because service was increasingly more and more frustrating. All the factors in my life down there didn't much allow tolerance for those providing poor or low quality customer service. I am certain with the continuously dwindling economy, it hasn't been encouraged to get much better.

Like any city, there is much to see in Miami. Many festivals and special occasions remarkable to the city and surrounding cities. Organized by local cities, so many activities are free. On a Sunday night beach walk, Isabella and I happened upon a parade march of drums and percussions. It was a celebration of a country's independence day. It was fun to join in and shake it! Music, culture, art, vibrant colors and personalities ~ it's all there for the taking!

Like anywhere today, it is a challenge to meet fabulous people. I honestly can admit I have high expectations for myself and for those I choose to include in my life. I adored the friends I made from my work. They were from an array of Latin American and caribbean countries, sprinkled with a few Americans even a small dosage of Midwesterners like myself.

I have only touched on life in Miami. I'm grateful for this chance to write about it a bit, for I think about how great life was down there almost daily. If there's anything you'd like to know, please let me know in the notes.

I Am Grateful

I am grateful for big and small things. I trust life is meant to be what it is right now. At the same time, I am grateful for all the motivation I surround myself with these days. Thank you friends, fantastic authors, motivational everyones! I trust if I keep filling myself with positive thoughts life will keep getting better and better. I allow myself to learn the lessons I need to learn, am meant to learn. I now move more quickly through things that are not so fun, along with striding forward even when fear is lurking about.

I am grateful I am creative and seem to have an everflowing basket of ideas/projects to work on. I love all the experiences I have lived, even the hard ones. All that I've lived and dreamed, pulled into a more solid and seeable form, can help others. I am grateful when I take the time to work on being creative, whether its through writing, art, craft projects with my daughter, even rearranging my peaceful home.

I am grateful when I let myself do the creative work, the spiritual work, the quiet work. Over this winter, it's been easier for me to numb myself with food, get caught up in tv plots, housework, and just the plain "shoulds". Now I walk into me time. Yes, I'm still a mom. Yes, I have a home to keep up. Yes, I have a life to get into order after a drought. Yet I'm declaring as spring springs forth so do I, all parts of me!

Thanks for being part of my life by reading this blog! I am grateful for you!
~Marina

Being Where I Am...With My Puggi

I have a little pug puppy. I like to say I "rescued" him because he came from a pet shop. He was there until he was almost five months old. How sad. Bella wanted a little chihuahua or small dog, and I just couldn't say no to this one. He was already nearly full grown. He's been such a good little guy.

I love the moments when he's sort of growing into himself, when he's a good dog who knows what to do. ...that means going potty where he's supposed to without accidents. I really am blessed. I look into his face. He's adorable. He's love. I know because I have a dog I have a lot of love to give, too. I shower my love onto my daughter, my puggi and my lovebird these days.

I think he kind of has a little old man face, too. He loves playing and he also loves napping with me. I loves me a dog who sleeps in the bed with you like a human...yes, Cesar Milan wouldn't be proud of me. Bella and I love our little Mr. Snorzalots!

I see how much I truly appreciate him and feel blessed we brought him home and have kept him so far. Sad to admit it like that. It makes me reflect on when Bella and I were by ourselves down in Miami Beach for a couple years (2007-2009). Loved it there! We tried to have a couple dogs there. I bought a purebread American Bulldog that we named Stellaluna (after the children's book about the fruit bat). We only kept her six months. It's a lot of work to have a puppy!! I could say I didn't have time or money to do the things she needed, but truly, I just wasn't ready to have a dog again. I was still healing from my wounds and unhappiness. We gave her away to someone with a big yard who worked from home. A kind neighbor set this up, along with loving our dog, too.

Of course I wanted another dog, so we took in a dog a friend from the Keys had. Bobo was 68 pounds, scrawny, and had ear problems when we took him up to live on the beach with us. I have so many memories of Bobo. His name was Zorro, but we quickly renamed him. He loved walking with us, was afraid of the water but surfed a little during Tropical Storm Fay in 2008, and just loved us. His medical problems from previous bad owners got to be too much for me. I gave him up to a shelter, I'm very sad to say. More bad advice from my parents I regretted from the bottom of my heart. It's sad when you look back and see all you've lived through. When you take time to reflect on what happened later on because of choices you made or perhaps had to make earlier. I still miss him, just as I miss the dog I had for 18 months when I was pregnant with Bella and with my abusive ex. Truly and honestly, every dog has to fill Little Guy's shoes. And none has.

I love my little pug. He's almost a year old. Ironically, his birthday is the day I met Bella's dad walking down Duval Street in Key West, May 25. He's a little lovepug we say. I am open to the gifts he gives us.

What Are We So Afraid Of?

Once upon a time there was a fabulous young woman who, it seemed, wasn't afraid of anything. She jetted off to 20 or 21 countries, sometimes by herself. She jumped off cliffs into startlingly cold water. She fell in and out of love with the wrong men. During her second trip to Europe, she and her peer from college had a 'trains, planes and automobiles' kind of a journey to get to Neuschwanstein. He told her there was a rickety bridge spanning a gorge but that you could take intensely beautiful pictures from it of the castle. She took his hand and led him to the middle of the time-honored narrow bridge, all while his eyes were closed to deceive his fear of heights. Another time, she made a new woman friend over the internet. This friend was afraid of heights and yet she was painting the outside of her one story house. This girl went over and climbed right up the ladder like she was going for a run or hopping another plane and painted, getting paint in her hair and laughing with her new friend.

What happened to this fearless woman? Yes, I am still here, in the shell of my body. The big shell. It's not that who I am in my mind and what is physically present is two different things. I have transformed into a less than fabulous person in the last few years. All the while, I try to be okay with where I am. Truly, I never embrace it. Even living seven blocks away from the ocean, I was holding on for dear life with depression peeking it's head out of a packed away box and money troubles kayaking closer and closer towards me. Trying. I am very conscious about not using that word. To me it means it's never going to happen. So just keep trying.

Yes, some things happened. I did not run like hell fast enough from a couple bad relationships I had. The last one scarred me severely. But honestly, that is not who I am any more. I can say that lately I am allowing myself to be shaped by not wanting to live in Minnesota. My words say I embrace the life I am living right now. Yet the actions are not true to those words. I have crutches. Inaction and emotional eating are the favored choices.

Once again, I want to be fearless. I want to every moment be living the courageous life those close to me see. Daily I am surrounded by positive words and other brave souls who are living fully. Living fully in our messes, in the realness of what we truly are. Not perfect. I know I'm not who I want to be right now. I'm perhaps ready to start stepping across the bridge which will lead me back to who I truly am inside. That is, when I tear away all the ineffective barriers I've built up these last few years. Thank goodness for positive words, for my mental clarity, and keeping the belief alive that I am worth this fight, this long, long walk. Perhaps I've already started walking across the bridge. My intentions in my heart are clear. I want to love life again!

Thanks for reading, and thank you for following my blog! What are your fears and what are you doing to walk up to them, bop them swiftly on the nose and then keep going?

My Internal Compass

It matters not
What others see
Or think of me
A friend said she's been "in the desert"
I agree for myself
I am in a valley
Mountains on both sides
Steep climbs upwards
I thank the universe
It is a different mountain
Than after I left an abuser.
Some days time is silent
I am still me,
Yet not the me
I want to be, will be
Again.
Time can stand still
However long it needs to
I will still be here
Sifting sand to find the gold again.

The Reason I'm Here Right Now

If you know me, you know it is hard for me to be here in Minnesota at this time in my life. I truly want to be near the ocean and in a warm climate, where my health is always more responsive. :)

I only noticed my resistance to my "home" state (where I lived the longest anyways) after I had moved to south Florida. That first time, in an abusive relationship with an infant, I came back because I have help here. Family. They have wanted me to get back on my feet, as far back as 2003. And still they want good things.

BUT. I resist being here. Things are easier here. They are easier in the sense I can simply shut down if I choose to. I can just figure out how to bring enough money in to take care of my daughter. Choosing this means I am not taking care of myself. This is the part that tears my heart apart, what makes me long for the ocean. For the opposite of where I am right now, for what I cannot have at the moment.

The ocean has been very healing for me. Even when I lived in a shelter inland in Miami. Destructively, I would drive past my ex husband's house when I was sad or distraught. His choice to continue using drugs drove me away from him every time I would muster up enough courage to see if he'd changed. It put my daughter and I in a shelter for the second time. One day I drove to the ocean instead. We played in the sand. After that day, I went to the ocean instead of torturing myself by driving by his place. I still have many treasures we found on our walks to the ocean. They are near me now.

Yet the reason I am here is because when I was on my own, I told myself it was too hard to do everything. Yes, I was alone. I made a few friends. I had a job. We got our own apartment seven blocks from the ocean. We took advantage of living a life near the ocean and near abundance in outdoor activities. We found a loving unity church with wondrous music, speakers and kind souls. The sunshine and the ocean breathed life into my soul again. It did become too much. Abuse follows you. The administrators at my job needed to be hung by their toenails. People don't have to be mean. They chose to follow unsaid rules, thinking it is what they are supposed to do instead of being decent. I have loved the south, yet those who don't tell me it's called the dirty south. Yep.

My heart can still be a bit naive at times, and I am ever the optimist. Honestly, I think about what I desire and forge ahead to get it. And I learn from everything. I lived down by the ocean for two years. I put myself in the situation where I got behind paying for basics, and just didn't have enough money. My mother came to see my daughter's pre-kindergarten graduation, staying overnight in our studio apartment. It still had vibrant colors but it was even teenier with three people in it. She begged me to come live with them in their house again. At that time, they didn't have enough money. They were blessed to reduce their house payment. My dad lost everything in stocks, for himself and his clients. It was heartbreaking. I can only now realize that my sucky relationship with my mom had begun to heal being 2,000 miles apart from each other.

I chose the easier path. Each time I would share that I was leaving, my heart would break open with fresh tears. I was acting on this being "the right thing to do" for my parents and for my daughter to supposedly live in a better place (than where her mama was happy?). Ah, well. We do things. We act at the time, then later on realize what was really going on.

It is no lie it has been a struggle for me up here. In many ways. My daughter brings daily joy and laughter to our lives. I am parenting differently than my rigid, fearful mom. The light that shines through is my women friends and our get togethers. They are fun, fabulous and non-judgmental. I am blessed and ever-grateful. For the great things and for everything else, which is a work in progress. In my mind, I continually think about or even make lists of what I need to do to improve my life and be happy again. Some days I even work towards it. At a snail's pace. That's okay. I've now realized why I'm here. More healing. To slow down enough to heal. Whatever it is I need to heal that can only be healed by living here, being here another cold winter with my controlling, unhappy parents. It is what is meant to be for now. And when I am ready for the next step, I will be there. I hope immediately.

I embrace the healing. I would ask my self, my heart, my soul for courage to leap into it. To release all that no longer serves me so I may be happier sooner. I am appreciative and grateful for all the lessons.

Still Loved

How long has it been?
How many years?
I read about other beloved pets
Tears start falling
I am so sad, so sad.
I know why he was in my life
I did not do for him
What he did for me.
He saved my life.
More tears, many more!
I was newly pregnant
When he came into my life, my heart
I loved him more than
That abusive drug addict.
He was mama's little guy
Even after I had to leave
I went back to get him
But in between and sad
And not yet recovering from the abuse
No place to take him
They put him in a better place,
Oh how I still miss him
Six years later
Tributes and pictures and
Still my heart is broken.
I know he is still here
My guide when I am quiet
Oh black white little big pit bull
I loved you deeply
Thank you for your immense love
Still loved,still loving him.