Ese susurro, canto de pajarito

Ese susurro, canto de pajarito. Un viento suavecito. Recordar la libertad, el anhelo que llena el pecho con aliento pleno, cuando se irradia una luz propia. Recordar quién soy. Un recuerdo antiguo. A veces se toma tiempo para poder ser. 

Entiendo que hay que cultivar el camino para poder darle vida a uno mismo. Volver y volver a ser. Abrir espacio para recibirse a uno mismo. 

Que no se es para todos, que no se es todo el tiempo. Que la voz la escuche al que le corresponda. 

Sopó, 9 de febrero de 2026.

Trust is gratitude

These days in company of the mountain and the sky. The older woman shares how could it be she does not trust, this would be like not being grateful for all that life has given her. What she has lived has been her life. 

Woman of all ages sit around a table. Something can happen when only woman sit together. Its loud, its chaos, its overbearing. Everything is there. Everything comes to the table. It is alive. It is like life. But the ways in which we are contracted with fear for something we might have done that threatens a place of belonging. A doubt that unexpectedly starts being left behind. 

And to breathe the breath of freedom. A wild wind.  Unconditional love. Full presence contemplation of the beauty. Communion with the land. Being loved. Knowing how to love back. 

Amancara, Gachantiva, 6 de febrero de 2026