That's a tomorrow solution

Rather than saying “that’s a problem for tomorrow,” or “that’s a tomorrow problem,” I’ve started instead to say, “that’s a solution for tomorrow,” or, “that’s a tomorrow solution,” and it’s such as silly and simple change-up, that it always makes me smile.

And like my manicurist in San Juan said after noticing how anxiousness had affected my nails, lo que no se resuelve hoy, se resuelve mañana. Or, what isn’t solved today, is solved tomorrow.”

I’ve also heard this mental trick of, when being faced with a problem solution opportunity, saying “I’m so grateful this has already been resolved,” (and saying it with your chest, or saying it with heart! So it’s felt.) Then you get to wait for it to unfold, now in a more easeful place of knowing—feeling—that it will happen. It’s something of a fun little future trust fall.

Also, a reminder to self that the simplest solution is is usually the best solution.

Everything is a theme

I heard someone say recently that “everything is a theme.“ I first thought of that in relation this blog and creating this space to write, reflect and create in a time when I was called to create more space in my life, often in playful ways, and how this has been, and is, a place to identify and understand themes at various points in my life, to process the past, to be with the present and to look toward the future, ideally, with more conscious awareness and loving attention.

I also found myself seeking a theme, wanting to identify a pattern, mostly because I often find it fun to play around with ideas and ideas identification. I didn’t have one for a while (like, a few days), and then it came to me quietly: patience. How fitting for it to enter that way, too, quietly, over the course of a few days, as I rest back into a month in Puerto Rico, a place where everything feels lusciously slower, a place that is always so patient with me.

Let yourself receive

I visited my friend’s apartment this week for the first time, her first place on her own. I had accumulated these little gifts to give her, including an extra pair of shoes I’d been sent, for free, (Soul sisters and sole sisters; we’re the same size), and a Matisse cutout that had hung in my old apartment in Wiliamsburg, where we both lived prior, before she moved West and I realized, in a cold, hard NYC winter, that felt like a really good idea, too, to live in LA. I followed six months later.

When I saw the Matisse print in my closet it automatically felt like hers, and I remembered I hadn’t yet been to her place, so I invited myself over. She received the invite and was happy to have me and offered to cook dinner; it was salmon and Japanese sweet potatoes and salad and perfect, and I brought a bottle of wine to toast with because, while neither of us drink much (California sober. as they say), it felt right and special for that Tuesday night, like a ritual. She asked me about life and listened, and the way she listens feels like such a gift, to be received that way, she is always present and patient, sharing insight and responses in the right way at the right moments.). She shared that she’d received a raise, and she hadn’t even asked for it, and we celebrated that. Close friendship is like that, all of that.

When I was in Puerto Rico in December, I felt like I was grasping to try to understand what I was meant to do. Stay, and take more time off? Leave, as originally scheduled? I had an Akashic Records Reading + Healing with my incredible friend Roya Pourshalchi right before Christmas. I wanted big, clear answers; divine guidance. “It feels like you are meant to receive,” she shared. That was the overarching advice, the archangel message, of the session. Images of receiving at a feast, seated at the end of the table, abundant plates and joyous company.

The next morning, Elida, my aunt’s longtime house help, was there. When I walked into the kitchen she asked if I wanted coffee, and breakfast. Oatmeal? “Oh, it’s OK; I can do it…” and I stopped myself. Let yourself receive. I love the oatmeal and coffee she makes; she cooks the oatmeal slowly with the full cinnamon sticks, simmers the almond milk over the stove and then combines it with to the Puerto Rican coffee bubbled up to ready in the Moka Pot. I said yes, and it was a perfect breakfast. She beamed when I told her how much I liked it. In receiving, we also give. I stayed two more weeks.

My friend offered me tea after dinner, when we were watching Love Island. I paused initially, not wanting to create more work for her, to take more from her. That was silly, of course; she has a generous heart, and I know she was offering because she wanted to. “Oh, you’re going to like the message,” she said when she opened the teabag.

“Let the opportunities come to you,” the tab read.

Let yourself receive. A compliment, without feeling the need to return it right away. A new day for being there, predictably, and, also, differently. An opportunity, whether you take it or not. Giving and receiving, the same flow.

Later, when I pulled my bike out to leave, there was a spider weaving a web, against all odds, across the entryway. “She does this every night,” my friend said. Spinning a web; an existence of being through receiving.

For my LA Lolo: To giving and receiving in friendship, for forever!