Leading with Compassion

My resolution for 2012 was to “lead with compassion”, that means that every conversation and every thought has to be filter through a compassionate lens.  I want to be able to imagine people at their best, when they are behaving their worst; I want to always give people the benefit of the doubt and assimilate the idea that most humans are born good, and it is this dysfunctional society and its jungle-like economic system what makes them “bad”.

Of course so far I am doing a terrible job with my resolution. Changing your view of the world and the way that you relate to it is not easy. Also it is hard to control your emotions, specially when they are connected to prejudices rooted in your brain for years. But I will keep trying because I think is necesary.

Leading with compassion is hard because our society tell us to do the complete opposite. In this modern world, we are taught that to succeed you need to be faster, smarter and  stronger than the rest. Compassion is often view as weakness, and the weak is destine to fail in our world.

The Buddha taught that to realize enlightenment, a person must develop two qualities: wisdom and compassion and I believe he was right. I believe that if all of us agreed to become wiser and use compassion as our compass, we will change the colliding course in which our society is going.

Compassion is not about being nice (at least the way I see it) it is about going the extra mile to understand those that we don’t, it is about trying to figure out how to end suffering when we see it. I can still be firm and even bitchy when necessary as long as those attitudes, come from a place of real love and understanding.

The business of adding compassion to the soup of emotions I live in, is difficult but worth it, and I am doing it because I strongly believe that my well being is connected to the acts and suffering of every human being in this planet.

I want to end this smugy post by saying that compassion has to start with compassion for yourself; quoting the great philosopher of our times Ru-Paul “if you don’t love yourself how are you gonna love sombody else, can I get an Amen!”

 

 

 

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Zombies, Deseases, Heaven and survival skills

I just finished catching up on The Walking Dead and I just can’t get over how good that show is. I love zombies; movies, tv shows, comic books, you through a zombie, or even better, a bunch of them at me, and I can assure you I won’t complain.

I saw my first Zombie movie when I was a kid, probably 8 years old or so, the movie was called Zombie Island, and it was one of the most gross and violent things I had seen, in other words I loved it. I remember being so scared and gross out by the flesh eating monsters, but at the same time so completely fascinated by them.Since then I have watched every undead related film ever made…even Zombie Strippers.

As I was watching The Walking Dead I started thinking what is it that make zombies so scary? I think that is the combination of 2 things: they represent diseases, illnesses that transmit easily and can do something worse than killing you, we have seen what mental illnesses can do to people, we all have heard of awful afflictions that torture unfortunate human beings and terrible chronic diseases; what if there was one that would never end, that is the fear that Zombies carry around with them.

The other reason is related to the first but more in an spiritual level. is the idea that death is not the beginning of our lives in heaven or any other type of afterlife place you believe in, but the beginning of a much painful and horrid existence.

After these paragraphs you know that I am a huge nerd, who else would seat around and think of zombies and their meaning. But honestly I find the subject fascinating.

The other piece of my zombie obsession is the fact that I can’t help to wonder would I survive a Zombie apocalypse.? I like to think I would, I have a strong sense of self preservation and I have tested it enough to know that when it comes to save my ass, I am quite capable. A long time ago, in a far away galaxy called chile, I did a bunch of stupid things, among them jumping in a car with a complete stranger who ended up being one point short of a psycho, and wouldn’t let me leave his apartment; just like any heroin from a Telenovela I used my sexiness to  trick the fool, and as soon as it was safe I run like my life depended on it, and maybe it totally did.

I know what you are wondering now, What does one wear for such occasion as the rising of the undead?I say go with flats, but keep a pair of hills in you bag just in case, wear comfortable pants but don’t go crazy and put on sweat pants, I mean there may still be people alive out there and they will see you, I guarantee you that the bitch you hate the most will see you wearing sweat pants, give you the side eye and then die of a zombie attack. What I am trying to say is that not because the world is ending you are going to let yourself go, right?

So what did we learned today: Zombies are awesome, so is The Walking Dead (watch it!); the end of the world is not the end of your sense of style, oh and of course I am a giant nerd. I say this was quite a productive blog.

Are you Ok?

People keep asking me that question and I keep wanted to slap them for it. Depression has turned me into a monster, an unstable, mean person that just want to slap those that actually care for him.

I am not ok, I am depress. Yesterday I had a nervous breakdown and today I am feeling a ton of anxiety about leaving my own house. The anxiety is mostly because I don’t want anybody else to ask me if I am ok.

I am seeing a psychiatrist and a therapist, I am taking anti depressant, anti anxieties and sleeping pill, I am knitting and writing a blog to keep my mind busy, but still this feelings won’t go away.

I am not ok but I don’t want to share it, I want  to write about it to a faceless audience, but I don’t want to seat down and have coffee with you to tell you about how miserable I feel. Am I being a terrible person? am I shutting down those that love me and care for me? these days is hard to answer the simplest questions.

I know I am rambling and sounding like a crazy person, but since I was a child rambling in a piece of paper, writing is the only things that calm me down,

When I was probably 6 or 7, we had an Armour in my house (el ropero), I used to loved hiding in it with notebook and a flashlight, and then write short mystery stories. My main characters where always detectives, and the victims always rich men, A lot of people would die in those stories, specially the main witnesses, but the detective would always solve the case in the end.

This blog is my ropero. I know you are reading, the same way my mother read my stories, but I cannot see you doing it so I don’t feel embarrass by it (God bless the internet)

I am not OK and I don’t know if I want to be ask that question again. I am not OK but Ia m fighting hard to get better, and that is all you should know.