Dear Beth,
I know you’ve recently started going by Beth. From what I remember, you didn’t expect it to stick. It stuck. If there’s one thing people love, it’s a shortcut. An excuse to shave off a few syllables is always appreciated by the working man. After enough years, hearing someone use your full name has become with the wrong person, uncomfortable, and with the right person, intimate.
That boy you keep telling you’re going to marry him? You won’t. You already know that. He doesn’t. Eventually you’ll learn that your nasty habit of telling everyone what you think they want to hear is actually quite cruel. When you’re 18 you’ll break his heart, as well as your own. Mercilessly, you’ll do it over the phone. 3 years drowned into static.
You’ll move out as soon as the first semester of college rolls around. You never thought you’d make it out of that house. Without a word to your parents, you packed boxes and hid them in the basement. Short dresses and posters folded tight in cardboard boxes printed with tequila labels. You got them at the liquor store for free. It’s the first time you get to decorate a room for yourself. Your first night alone, you don’t go to sleep until 3 am. You’re buzzing much too loud. You walk through the courtyard while it’s dark just because you can. It’s the first time you don’t feel as though your life is held down by nails and boards. Finally, you can breathe without consequence, without permission. You start making mistakes at a neck-breaking-speed. It doesn’t matter how miserable you get, you are free to make yourself miserable. You’ll look back on it later and recognize it as bleeding at your own hands, but will only regret some of it.
Covid will come and take everything from you. It will rip the frames off your walls and drag you back to your parents. You don’t kick. You don’t scream. You return to your kneel, your hands find themselves clasped once more. Foolishly, optimistically, you think it will only be a minute. Get comfortable in that position as soon as you’re able.
You leave again. You work 3 jobs during a pandemic and still only make $250 above your rent. You cry about money. A lot. You spend a year apologizing for not being able to afford birthday gifts, christmas gifts. Self-checkout at the nearest grocery store has a slot for coins. You learn to live off quarters and dimes. You never once ask to borrow money. Your room is a shoebox. Your roommates are insane. The first time you have a boy over, he kills a roach on the wall of your bedroom with his shoe. Humiliating. You get a better job. You move again. You manage. You save up.
Beth, you leave.
You run away to Alaska.
A flight across the country lands the furthest you’ve ever been from anyone and anything you’ve ever loved. It is the most scared and the most alive you have ever felt. You are going to meet people who grew up in the mountains, who make lavender wine in their living rooms, and play instruments the size of them. You are going to swim in hot springs, and ride dog sleds, and dip your feet in rivers full of salmon. It is the first time you find yourself in love with being alive. You are there for four months, before Money–the hound–is back, chasing after you again. You get home and never stop talking about it. Your time there has become somewhat of a limb to you, synonymous with your physical being. You endure the 15 hour transit to visit and revisit at least once a year.
You will come back and meet the worst person you have ever loved. You thought Alaska taught you about mountains, but there is nothing steeper than the distance between how deeply loving he is sometimes, and how terribly he makes you feel most times. He is a hurt boy dressed in a grown man’s temper. You sympatheize. You cannot stay. Unfortunately, you still love him when you leave.
For a long time you mourn the years you lost on him. You are more angry with yourself for staying than you are with him for hurting you. But you recall a quote you’ve read. You understand you came from a house on fire. You have learned to forgive yourself for not running when you smelled smoke.
You give yourself time alone. You pour into yourself. You become unrecognizable.
It used to be so hard to get a word out of you. Now no one can get you to shut the fuck up. You tell people off like it’s your god-given right, you flip off strangers in bodegas, you yell obscenities across the street. You’ve learned to stop making excuses for people. The word “No” has never met a tongue it had an easier time rolling off of. You speed walk in miniskirts, and listen to music as loud as you can stand it. But you’ve learned to stop drinking until the lamppost lights have blurred into a river. You’ve learned to stop taking everything handed to you with your left hand when there’s a glass in your right. You are in the process of learning to love someone without centering your life around them. You have oysters once a week and buy flights several times a year. You’ve crossed off 18 countries. You’ve had chocolate croissants in patisseries employing the rudest staff, shared pupusas on the side of the road with dogs, been gifted bitter burnt coffee by someone who could barely afford to share a cup. You’re not scared of hour-long drives anymore. You’re in the process of exploring the country you’re from in a car that barely runs. You’ve almost died in national parks and oceans. You’ve had the time of your life on wine tours, suckered and left bedded on grass drinking on honeysuckle flowers. You’ve lost your voice and bled into cowboy boots at music festivals.
You’ve been tempted to quit school, but there’s too much lucrativity in asking someone on a couch, “how does that make you feel?”. You only have a few semesters to go anyway. You will be graduating late, but you’ve lived a lot of life at this point. That’s been your justification. Then again, the only person giving you a hard time about it is yourself.
All you think about is cooking. You bake on the weekends, and spend too much money on groceries, and when you have a hard time telling someone that you’ve grown to love them, you simply invite them over for dinner. You work 40 hours a week while you’re in school. You make vanilla lavender lattes with nutmeg, and spiced toffee mochas, and rose lychee matchas, and everyone is always asking how in the world you come up with this stuff. You are always receiving flowers.
By the way, your current bedroom is HUGE. You were so scared you’d be in a roach infested shoebox forever and now you have a bed you can fit 5 people on. Not for a lack of love, but you used to kill every cactus that looked your way. Now your apartment is brimming with plants. You’re running out of room but it smells incredible.
You get a new tattoo or piercing every few months but you still cry at blood tests. Every nurse you’ve ever met thinks you’re ridiculous. You’ve sprained both your hips, and had a kidney infection that almost took your life. The subluxations in your back still ache every day. But at least your migraines have gone away for the most part.
You don’t talk to your parents anymore. You kiss girls. You’re rude to boys. You’re very rarely afraid because, whatever the situation, you’ve already been at a worse place at a worse time. You’re usually toting your hot pink bottle of mace anyway. You are so happy. So brilliantly happy. Life is still occasionally shitty, and you’re in a new conflict at least 3 times a week. Yes, there are still days you don’t get out of bed until 6 pm. You don’t care. You are so happy. And eventually you will get here and you will understand that you are meant to feel all of those feelings. You wouldn’t have the capacity for grief and sorrow and pain if it weren’t a part of the human experience. Someone taught you years ago how about the concept of an open heart center: that experiencing every inch of bad expands your ability to feel the good. God, you are so happy, it is sickening.
Elizabeth, take care of yourself. Make all the same choices, choose all the same mistakes. I love where I brought you. I know you will be so grateful for everything I have done for you.

Sincerely,
Us

Their little toes massaged with coco butter
Its past bedtime, but I know it’s worth it
To give them what I so desperately wanted
Caring for them, is caring for me
At age five and again at three

We’re tired
Exhausted actually
The beach disappeared, we stayed so long

What was your favorite part of your day, I ask
Now, they say
A gentle reminder for me
To just be

Like waves crashing and beginning
Over and over again
Moments passing

No push
No pull
Just here with them
Present.

Every moment, they’re learning
My words enter their ears and remain in their bodies
My hands, how they care for them

I am their guide
They are their captain
I keep them safe
They choose their direction

My ancient eyes
My family unknowingly gave me to judge
Remarkably replaced, with practice

My new eyes
To see
To heal
To be, me.

Their big, little blue eyes softly close
As I lather coco butter on my feet

Respecting them, is respecting me
Filling my cup
To quinch our thirst
To be held
To be heard
To know, we are capable
We are good inside.

Sprouting from an inner spring of perennial joy and goodness, my benevolent heart now approaches each season full of love and forgiveness.
The mistakes of yesterday are not brought into today, for I hang my charismatic smile on yesterday’s lessons being the reason why tomorrow’s a better day.
Following the pious impressions of a Yogi enabled me to stumble upon meditation, unveiling an “inner world” only seen through one “eye.”
Tracing my own footsteps back to the beginning of “spiritual oneness”; my spiritual center, allowed me to discover a world teeming with tranquility and bliss.
Forfeiting “two eyes” for one did not come at a cost. Instead, I profited from: heightened awareness, in-depth intuition, clairvoyance, and enhanced telepathic abilities, but most importantly. I gained the ability to “see.”
Before meditation, my life was a mess. The “outside world” often made me depressed. Feeling as if my life was being tossed about like a boat under duress during high seas; nearly dashed against the jagged rocks. The dark rain clouds of depression often gave way to doubt, pouring more coal into the burning open furnace of my fears and insecurities.
Persistent meditation became my mental hygiene, brushing away my depression, doubts, fears, and insecurities; cultivating a flourishing mental garden from an overflowing fountain of Self-Love. Now, the “outside world” doesn’t affect me quite as much as it once did. I can only thank meditation for becoming my savior; a life raft I can cast perpetually to save myself from life’s high seas.
Meditation taught me that we cannot change other people! We weren’t put here to! We can only change ourselves! But a kind wide-smile, empathetic listening, or gentle words of encouragement can be a lantern of hope during someone’s darkest days.
I was born a conscientious person with a credulous nature and a pure heart, almost unfit for a world orbiting in reverse. In the early days of my life, I did not fair too well for having such noble qualities. In my later years, meditation showed me that I was born to be a king: ordained to help create a better world from the overflowing cup of goodness existing inside of me.
These days, butterflies flutter past me closely, hummingbirds levitate nearby, dogs are overzealous to greet me, and little children hurry to hug me at the knees. Maybe it’s my innocence. Perhaps I appear luminous, finally unafraid to reveal my light to the world.

How do we change the world? It is far from easy. First, you take your squeegee.

When we take the squeegee we focus on what “I” can change and looking up to the sky should not be the only thing you use to figure out why.

Reflecting is ok, but there will come a day where action is the takeaway!

The answers to your question is by evaluating one letter I!

That is how the world will change in a blink of an eye!

Dear Teenage Self
There are many things I wish to tell you. You need to ask for help it’s not a sign of weakness or failure. Everyone needs it now and then. My young self I know you need it. You were never a burden you are loved. But you have to start loving yourself by accepting your complexion you are a black woman who needs to own it and your hair may be a pain but it is yours. Learn to work with it you will learn to love it. Don’t let people convince you any differently about Who You Are. Deep down you truly know don’t shy away from it. Of course, it is scary and unsure but you need to be bold.
Friends will come and go some friends become more and that will break your heart but it will mend again. Stay true. Let love in even if it doesn’t last those feelings are something worthy of experiencing. You go through trials with your friend but in the end, it will make you both strong and set healthy boundaries. You also be gifted a friend who will hold you down when you need the most. These two hold a significant value in your heart don’t be afraid to tell people you love them. Allow them in you won’t scare them away.
You hold so much within gotta learn to let it out. Regrets have been had that is okay hold on to those. But move forward and try not to have much more in your life.
I need you to be strong. I need you to be better at procrastinating. Follow your gut and that damn heart those two come hand in hand.
A couple of reminders you are a black beautiful woman. Dress however you see
fit. Date who you wish to date whether man or woman. Stand strong in your convictions always be you.

Fumbling teaches you a life lesson, two, or six hundred thousand times.
Sometimes life is a lab puppy who stays a puppy for life tearing up or peeing on your shoes.
We must laugh sometimes at how we strive to be perfect when we are so far away from that term, far away like clear transparent turquoise water hidden in the northern Idaho mountains.
The rush of fake Photoshopped gleaming diamonds and wealthy luxurious cars plaster on commercial boards, in magazines of teenagers’ hands at the library their teacher forced them to go to or the YouTube screen our young child has; the constant fake ads popping up on our social media platforms trying to define us, trying to create
a norm-a trend that is all too repetitive.
Yet, we heart & blood connect, maintain our identities, hybrid the best, flush out the worst,
and try to thrive in corners like spiders at night webbing possibility.
We know in our souls -fake is not real.
We know this and if we try to grasp or mold ourselves into temporary perfectionism of a lie,
we know we will vanish into empty holes without a galaxy.
That is why we/ I still try to feel Mother earth,
that is why we/I put our phones down,
that is why we/I smile at each other, be gentle, be forgiving and have grace with what’s to come –
magical moments as a blue heron flies down before a sunset sky in the pond at the Japanese gardens trying to decide whether his beak can hold a golden koi.
The magics of moments and decisions of contemplation, honest and true to our survival.
For our souls are bigger than the temporary,
so we glean and connect to the vast waters of the earth, we hike into the hills where trees sway and whisper love to our ears, and starbursts shine on our worth.
We shimmer and know that being authentic and fragile is our only hope to heal from trauma, and
that it is our only hope that connects us and brings us back to one in the completeness of the earth – the dirt, the sun, the water, the air – it helps us breathe and connect as we should. We/I teach and receive from its abundance and share this with the children whose hands put down screens and run into the forests barefoot
embracing the glory of future and fulfilling the growth that the skies and lands provide.

I want to be that guy that you can be free to speak your mind to, you can lean on all the time.

I want to be the mirror that helps you see yourself clearer, that encourages your true self to get a little nearer,

come and plays devils advocate for the angels make you look at things from different angles ,

Or I help the world value the person more than the work, Maybe I can help change minds to put people into trees instead of the dirt,

help be the change to say it’s OK to hurt

let me help you, because for so long we’ve been told it’s not ok to feel.

But that’s not real! Because every single person who will read this is struggling with something they may not admit,

or the pain and trauma they’ve suffered have caused them to forget

a healthy way to cope looking at life through the cross hairs of a rifle scope,
I want to help pull your finger away from the trigger and make it look towards hope,

Maybe I can help change the thought of 40 hours of work,
Instead, give those people 40 hours of freedom from all these imposed rules of life and society.

Imagine what this world would be like if we all were able to pursue what makes us happy,

I really mean it think about it. I don’t mean to get sappy

it’s just everyone that you meet seems to be drained at least a little bit of joy,
how do I find a way to intersect with my inner boy?

The world is so hell bent on getting another dollar or getting another follow,
but we lack soul and substance our bodies are merely hollow,

I want to help fill people with things that leave them fulfilled
where all we worry about is things that leave us with thrill instead of worried about bills.
The best way to do that is to embody that thought and let it it flow out.

I challenge you to do something you love today, let loose and show out !

Wishes of world peace and overwhelming compassion
Get drowned out by social media trends and fashion
Big dreams of empathy and understanding
Destroyed by attitudes that are entitled and demanding
Thoughts of self-love and confidence rising from within
Then the judgments and rude comments start coming in

When you’re satisfied with yourself and your mind
You recognize what matters is being warm-hearted and kind
When you do what brings you that childlike happiness
The negativity around you begins to digress
Your mindset and actions make up your universe
When you focus on yourself, you break the curse

Filling your own cup first may sound selfish
But the energy you give to yourself allows you to be selfless
As you acknowledge and release your internal judgements
It is easier to make connections and commitments
When we can all connect and open our hearts to one another
This is when we can heal and learn to self-discover

Human beings are meant to change and evolve
There will always be obstacles and problems to solve
The more you take care of your mind and soul
The resilience will build, and you’ll enter a state of flow
In this beautiful world, the only constant is change
As you step into the magic of love, what happens next is strange

You start to see others with love and empathy
You understand why someone sees things differently
Although you may have different opinions and lives
Similarities and experiences allow the connection to thrive
When we all connect with a common goal for good
The universe will make sure it all happens as it should

This world desires to be full of love and connection
The world does not want us to strive for perfection
The world needs people who are vulnerable and open
The world needs less of resentment and hearts that are broken
One of the greatest things we can do is spread our light
So, to be the change I wish to see, I am committed to spreading mine

How am I changing the world?
The real question is what makes you think
Me of all people… One being.
Has the power to do so?
I ain’t no Jesus.
I can’t be a savior.
I can’t change the world.
But I can elevate my mind
and change my behavior.

The world is cruel.
We all just wear our
rose colored glasses.
And say we go to the
“beat of our own drum”
yet we still comment, like, follow and subscribe
in masses.
we still have to be hip with the latest trend
and we so easily give into the fleshly pleasures and desires
of sin.

The world is a conundrum of infinite paradoxes
and flexible morals that produce infinite quarrels.
It’s always, “Be Left or Right”, no in between.
Like thinking for oneself is a forgotten
right and a lost thing.

I can try to change the world.
But I always heard that the
“nail that sticks out will be hammered down”
Honestly who really wants the world to change?
I have been told it is as pointless
as chasing the wind and fighting the rain.
Many can assemble and try to fight for what’s right.
But i was told it is like being stranded in the middle of the ocean
with no land in sight;
You Scream for help as pools or sharks
surround you ready to take a bite.
Who said the world needs changing?
How else would we be entertained?
Who would we be able to blame when we don’t get it right?
Who’s fault will it be?

I know you think I am a cynic.
A Debby Downer, Negative Nancy, or Boo-Hoo Betty.
Or at least someone who is pessimistic and petty.
But I just wanted to keep it real.
This is the world we are talking about.

I am a black woman.
My life is assigned different cheap thrills.
If we are popping pills,
Would you choose red or blue?
To see or not to see…
That’s really the question.
It comes with answers that are the same yet different.

Everyone has a different experience.
Their stories of different yet similar themes and plots.
It is all about perspective.
Does the world really need to change?
Can I be perceptive and state my objective?
The world constantly changes whether
I will it or not.
The best thing I can do is change my
Behavior, think pure thoughts, and stay in my lane.

Because somewhere in the world
The poor will always be poor.
The sick will always be sick.

Someone will always be mourning the dead.
The streets will still run red with the blood of
innocent and the guilty.
Gun shots will still fly
and injustice with be one of the many
causes of why people die.
Realistically speaking
Every effort would be dross
because there will always be
the impending doom of chaos.

But I guess I can still try.

No one person
Man, Woman, Boy or Girl
can change the world.
But I can ignite my light.
I can shine bright
through the darkness.
be the beckon of light
that guides the lost home.
I can make an impact.

I can be the match
and light the wick
for the candles of change.
or i can be the kerosene
to keep the light going.
When the cold of the world is
extra mean.
I can keep you warm.
Nurse your wounds
if you should ever get harmed.

My mom gifted me a frame.
with a quote that said.
” Be the change you want to see in the world!”
To this day it still sits on the side of my bed.

I can’t change the world.
But I can choose to love and not to hate.
Everyone deserves respect.
That’s no debate.
I can live righteous
help strangers
and if i have the resources
deliver people out of
Danger.
I can be kind
and choose to not allow the world
to shut me up or make me blind.
I can teach the peace that comes in life
when you abandon sorrow, worry, and anger.
I can choose to love unconditionally.

Start a new trend.
Screaming on the streets
“Let love in!”
Because Love has already won
You just have to knock on the door of victory.
I ain’t no Harold Melvin
But i know the world won’t
get any better. If we let it be.
I can’t change the world.
But I can emulate what I hope it to be.
Because I know I am not going to
change the entire world
but I do know that a change can start with me.

Mija, we’ve always known that something wasn’t right with the world, but before you shave your head and draw on your brows, find solace in your beautiful, brown skin. I know that when you walk down the street it’s with a scathing hardness you wear like a badge of honor. I know that your scowl is self preservation so people know not to fuck with you, but Mija, they always will. Before you make plans to fight the homegirl that took one too many cigarettes from your pack, think about why you smoke in the first place. We know it’s to help calm the rage inside you but where is it directed at this point in time? Is nicotine your savior because you can’t stand listening to our anti-feminist dad spew religious nonsense at you for being ‘gay like your mom’, like he isn’t the reason we live on the streets when it’s not his weekend? Maybe it’s for our manipulative Mother, promising time and time again a stable place to live while she caters to the whim of a partner that doesn’t show up for her? Or is it because it’s the one thing you have in common with mom’s abusive girlfriend to keep calm before the domestic storm? Could it just be that you like your weed and Adderall to have a companion, because you know how loneliness cascades?

Mija, make sure you give our little sister a kiss before you sneak out to hustle and sling at the punk show. Promise her you’ll take her to the library to get her next meal. Did you ever stop to think it strange how drugs are more easily available than food, to people like us? How even the public library that offers free meals to youth on weekends, never once drew you in to feed you knowledge? But there is kindness in the eyes of those that see you as more than a dirty southside kid; The Paleta man that gives you an ice cream, and sometimes a buck or two, or your art teacher that believes your talent for drawing will help you heal. Always be grateful and give to others in any way you can, because if you deserve liberation, so do they.

Mija, when you grow, you will heal, so hold on. Keep drawing pretty pictures, laugh boisterously, listen to Sinéad and Fiona and cry, move across the country, move across the country AGAIN, make countless mistakes, always be weary of who you buy drugs from, get sober, HEAL. And above all, continue to not listen to adults because they don’t know shit.
Mi Hija,
I know,
I know,
I know,
how much you hurt.
I know,
I know,
I know,
what causes your pain.
I know,
I absolutely fucking know,
Because you are my daughter
and I am yours.

You were the lock that kept us together.
A divine grace which sweep the insecure adolescence, and brought many to be loved in essence. Like lessons we to hold to mistakes in time and grew to understand the deception of divide.
Like a mist I was clouded for we were the stepping stones to a peace of Eden. In unity we found solace, a bond unbroken and never to be hidden.
For you were the lock, and we the key, a tapestry of love forever woven.