“Ojos de amor”

Ever since I was a little girl, I have dreamed of writing and publishing a book.

This dream is very alive for me right now, and I am actively taking steps to bring it into reality. As I walk this path, I come face to face with my own inner resistance as I strengthen and deepen my relationship with my own inner knowing. I listen to the stories that live within me and around me, allowing them space to speak. In them, I find new questions.

The blank pages call me into inquiry about my ancestors, my identity, and my expanding consciousness. I seek comfort at the feet of my grandmothers and in the company of fellow authors–magnetic pulls toward wise ones who have traveled further ahead on the path.

Last night, I attended a lecture by the legendary Sandra Cisneros. Lit only by the soft glow of the podium lamp, she recounted cherished stories of the years when she lived in San Antonio among fellow artists and her “chosen family.” She encouraged her audience to document our stories because “we see our people with ojos de amor.”

There is so much I do not yet know about the process of publishing a book, yet I am certain the lessons are making their way toward me. I welcome them with open arms, ready to embrace their teaching, eager to discover.

Each day, I lose myself in stories and poems. Sometimes they belong to me; often they do not. In nature, I find inspiration, and in life, I find an unfolding. When I write, I come home to myself and attune to something that has always been there, quietly waiting for the invitation to emerge. I allow this opening, and I rest in its love.