Fighting temptation


Mama Mary will knock you out

The devil is busy.  Ash Wednesday was unbelievably tough.  After a challenging day, I was pushed to my limit at the very end of the night.

I am involved in an ongoing and tense correspondence which is a direct result of someone else’s actions.  The person responsible for the mess is someone who has created lots of problems for me in recent years.(An epilogue) While this person is no longer physically around me, I’m resentful I have to resolve the aftermath. In the latest exchange, the person affected by the poor decisions told me (and two colleagues!) how we should handle the situation. Though I was livid, I responded in my usual way. I was polite, clear, and firm as I clarified my understanding of the problem and how I would be handling the situation. I didn’t reveal that this was that other person’s fault. Why shift responsibility when I’m being held accountable? The good news is that my message seems to have been received both literally and figuratively.


I’m often tempted to take the low road. There’s a part of me that fantasizes about telling people off and putting people in their place in the most explicit, vehement, and aggressive way possible to really mandarlos a volar. Yet that type of behavior goes against my nature, my upbringing, and the values I hold dearest:  integrity, compassion, community, altruism, and mercy.   I try not to be petty and passive-aggressive; this is one of my greatest sins. It’s very hard for me to express my anger with someone. I struggle to come up with a way that’s going to be in line with the rest of the way I live my life. So it’s kept under wraps.  My true feelings get expressed in my writing or my body language, the side eye, the tone in the email or in my voice.  I vent with others who may be removed from the situation but that type of venting (aka gossip, another of my sins) goes against the values of community, compassion, and mercy. I have to stay true to myself.  I can’t give in to my worst self. My evil Kermit may seem hilarious but in real life, that side of me will wreak havoc. Though I have struggled through years of emotional and spiritual work, I wrestle with this temptation every day.


Lent reminds me of my mortality, my weakness, and my need for a clean heart. It’s my will power and my willingness to be part of the solution. I am here to do right.  There’s a whole lot of wrong in the world. Each day, I experience misplaced, misdirected, misunderstood, and misguided pain and anger that those around me do not know how to manage. Sometimes I don’t know how to handle their emotions or my own. Yet every day, I see love and compassion. I stay strong. I remember that my focus is to be a better version of myself for my own well-being but more importantly for the growth of my child. She has so much potential to be an amazing woman someday. I need to do what I can to help get her there. The Lord is testing me this Lent as He should. I am challenged to be strong and brave, and to take comfort in the Lord.  Miracles don’t happen without faith and discipline. That’s the truth about many tests that I have faced. They result in growth, peace, and happiness. At the end of this season of struggle, there will be resurrection.

A.D. The Bible Continues

An epilogue

Peru 2014 139.JPG

Caral, Peru. Photo by J. Calderon, 2014.

“..we found you lying

Choking on the dirt and sand

Your former glories and all the stories

Dragged and washed with eager hands

But, oh, your city lies in dust…” “Cities in Dust” by Siouxsie and The Banshees

A terrible situation I have experienced for many years recently ended. (Year of milagros) Though I claimed I would samba in joy, I didn’t. Nor did I throw confetti, pop bottles or make it rain.  Certain routines feel awkward. Certain places bring back memories.  The reality of victory is simply that, a reality. Life has moved forward quietly.

I do ask if it’s really over. I wonder if my work with this particular situation is done.(My second career as an exorcist)Call it PTSD (though I don’t like to, given my personal experience loving someone with true PTSD) or shock, I have moments when I brace myself for more fighting.  After years of experiencing abuse, it will take time to resolve these reactions.

I wonder about the other party. Has this person reflected on choices made and actions taken? Can this person heal?  I don’t have it in me to truly hate this individual. Deep inside, underneath layers and strata, yes strata, of God only knows what, this person is in so much pain. It is a pain so visceral and so overwhelming that it has terrorized others for decades. That’s some mierda.   I will continue to lift this person up in prayer. Fix this person, Jesus.

Though I say “icant”


My secretary gave me this paperweight for Christmas. To know me is to love me.

or “I’m unable to can”


Team Petty. T-shirt collection to prove it.

for a laugh or to keep from cursing on the daily, I know I can. Taking on a malicious individual has taught me that I can stand strong. I can fight back without compromising my better self. I can win.

Right on schedule


“He’s a God you can’t hurry,

You don’t have to worry;

He may not come when you want Him

But he’s right on time, right on time. “Traditional Gospel hymn

I have refused to give up on this Advent. (Last year’s Advent of struggle ) As expected, I have been put to the test during this season. On one hand, I have a wounded dragon heaving its last toxic breaths.


Vandervals’ “Wounded Dragon”

On the other, there is the prospect of yet another round of hoping for a leopard to willingly change his spots.


The guy on the right is the inspiration for The Police’s “Don’t Stand So Close to Me”

(Truth be told, I’m not waiting at all but I’m loyal to a fault and I will do as directed, even if I get a little Ben Linus on occasion.)ci-59798115230130361

I had a moment yesterday when I wavered, when all my anger, frustration, and indignation threatened to cloud my mind and fill my eyes with tears.  But I remembered to breathe, pray, and hold tight to my commitment to this Advent.  I moved forward in more ways than one.  Yesterday, I made a choice.

I’ve already owned my penchant for pettiness. Shoot, I even have the casual Fridays t-shirts to prove it. My pettiness is amusing at times, other times worthy of criticism. But it hasn’t held me back in the way my lack of self-confidence does. Oh sure I’ll dance on stage or on the streets with little practice. I’ll take the mic and put together a speech on the fly. But my career has been stifled by my inability to see myself as a leader.  I have worked for twice as long as several peers who are at the helm their own ships.  Yesterday, through the darkness of my emotions, I found the strength to own that my time has arrived. It is my time to lead, guide, and shepherd. I have vision, purpose, and integrity; now I am emboldened by the courage to stand alone.

At the end of a stressful workday or any day for that matter, I have to answer to myself, my family, and my God.  How have I been the best version of myself today?  How am I going to be the best version of myself tomorrow?  Soon, I will live out the answers to these questions in the spotlight.  My mistakes will be my own.  My decisions will be my own.  I will struggle and fail but I will learn.  That in turn will help me grow in the woman I was born to be.

While I may be tempted to take Hot Sauce out my bag and mess up a window or two, I can’t let others’ tomfoolery make me resort to my worst self.  I am finally going to fix myself some long overdue lemonade.beyonce-car

These hands will have to stick to prayer and to getting my paperwork together for my next job.  God will continue to give me the strength and patience.

Mothering a warrior

“…But in this country

there is war.”  Lorna Dee Cervantes, from Poem For The Young White Man Who Asked Me How I, An Intelligent, Well-Read Person Could Believe In The War Between The Races 

Within the hour, I will have to wake her.  Last night, her closing prayers were “Bless this mess. Fix it Jesus. Amen.”  My daughter asked, “Who won?” at 1 in the morning, and promptly rolled to her other side so that I could not answer her. Today, like so many other madres, I will have to answer to her and for her.

Mija, like so many little girls in this generation and those that came before her, her own mom included, idolizes Wonder Woman.  We are excited for the movie which premieres in June 2017.ew-ww-39

My daughter has Wonder Woman t-shirts, hats, headband, dolls, and books.  She identifies closely with this character, a woman who is brave, independent, and strong.

I am drawn to the character of Queen Hippolyta, Wonder Woman’s mother, and an amazing woman in her own right.


In the first movie trailer which debuted this past summer, Hippolyta tells Diana, aka Wonder Woman, “You have been my greatest love.”  In the most recent trailer which debuted last week, Hippolyta calls out “Be careful, Diana” as her daughter embarks on a mission to go to war. Those two soundbites speak to what I’m feeling.  How will I keep the person I love most safe in this world?  How will I protect her?  How will I prepare her to do battle?

The events surrounding the election are no surprise to me.  I have seen the old ways of thinking and hating fester and spread; they never stop doing so.


While I grieve the harsh truths the election reveals about many people in our nation, I accept reality.  One of the things I told my daughter last night was that now would be our time to fight for what is right. 14938157_1366372526736820_5038582823904846037_n

So our mission begins.

Embracing the end times

I’m slightly obsessed with the end of the world.  How can you not be with funny tweets(including my brother’s  Bro’s Pope tweet)and three possible dates in the last two years(check out my musings on the last two finales-that-never-were,And I feel fine! and Baktun to the Future)The third date, you wonder?  It’s one of my own pondering during this wild week of Pope Benedict’s resignation followed by the meteorite disaster in Russia.  I don’t know that I actually believe the end times have arrived.  Perhaps it is more inspired by the fact that my days in teaching are numbered, though that is by choice.  The world, as I know it, is ending.

After months of agonizing over my unhappiness about my work situation, my dream job opened.  Ironically, the application was due on what should have been the end of the world, version 2012, December 21st.  It was an opportunity for a new beginning that I could not ignore.  I am proud and happy that I was offered the job.

In the weeks to follow, I will wrap up this hectic transition period and move into my new position, leaving behind a school district in which I have been a student, teacher, administrator, and teacher.   There will be tears, doubts, and moments of fear.  But as with all endings, both real and imagined, I will let it happen, then venture forth into my new life.

Back to School w M!

My daughter is not quite four. Next month, she will be but in the meantime she is the youngest child in her Pre-Kindergarten class at a Catholic school.  She had been eagerly anticipating this transition but got nervous in the days preceding her first day and tearful the night before.  Needless to say, I was worried as I accompanied her to her first assembly on the blacktop for prayer, flag salute, and announcements.  Gradually, she began to look less terrified and  more relaxed.  
By the time we returned to her classroom, she immediately began to play in one of  the learning centers.  I  have left jobs, schools, and relationships and no ending quite felt like it when my little girl looked me in the eyes and said, “Goodbye, mommy.”  It took strength to not burst into tears in front of her.  

After spending an hour at the parent mixer(I talked with a few parents and scored her a free plaid jumper), I headed home(yes I finally did cry on the drive) to comfort myself with some K-horror.  Because when the going gets tough, I will immerse myself in a movie, in this case an eerie Korean ghost story. Then my mom rejoined me and we went back for noon dismissal.  When we arrived, M was back to her old self: upbeat, confident, and light-hearted.  Of course, that first day of school popsicle given out by the staff didn’t hurt. 

M told me she would like to go to school every day.  And so begins the next phase of our exciting adventures together.

The first of many

My baby got into preschool!  Out of over 30 children for approximately 12 spots at a local Catholic preschool. I have experienced anxiety, worry, and doubt in the past two months of the application process.  We are thrilled and excited.

Can’t help but wonder how I will handle future admissions processes…

Explanation #12

See what had happened was my mind sometimes scrambles around like a mischievous monkey, as if I were still that messy little romantic who drove drunk in Nashville, and not someone’s mother, so stable and strong and together in the face of drama, secrets, deceptions, both large and small, and hormonal changes. Sometimes I still cry and cry, my nerves twisting and sprouting sharp barbs. But no broken glass, no new holes in the walls, no fleeting thoughts of endings. Tiny girl child punches and kicks me into realization. She is everything now, my strength, my faith, my hope.
Most of all, she is the reason to live right.


A little after 1 in the morning last night, I found out something amazing.

Today I feel mystified, just as much as the first time I felt overwhelmed by the smell of roses.

God answers prayers.

Reclaiming December

Last winter may as well have been a nuclear winter. But as a person of hope, I believe in renewal. I have been proactive in reclaiming this season and making memories.

Perhaps one of the most important new traditions is the Dance-Along Nutcracker. It takes place on the second weekend of December in SF and raises funds for the Lesbian and Gay Freedom Band. This year, as part of Lisa’s birthday celebration and own healing, we became sponsors. With Lisa’s immediate family as our personal cheering section, we donned tutus and battled the preschoolers for floor space(as I smiled through my agony, see previous post). We have vowed to make it an annual tradition.

At home, I made my first Peruvian main dish ever for Blues. Blues and I put up my blue and gold themed tree. I created my first Peruvian/Italian nativity scene, complete with glitter sticker starry sky. I attended the second annual Christmas Eve family reunion complete with costumed folk dancers. I have surrounded myself with joy and laughter. Winter feels different. It feels happy.