There are moments in life where the portal opens and we have to step in.

It usually happens after a season of saying many yes’s…in this case, myself saying yes to: watching the Brazil game when I just got out of pilates, showing up to said sports bar in my lil workout fit, another vermuth, a Friday morning beach trip, hosting at my place, a late night run when the humidity’s low, another topic question even though that means we’re gonna be here all night.

And thennnn naturally, the synchronicities start winking at me…a good book finds its way, a new wormhole, some kriya or form of movement…and then whoosh…we’re here.

A new timeline unlocked.

But only I can jump in.

I honestly, really, truly wish I could take others here with me.

The spell comes…and the spell goes.

There is no need to worry…no need to fear…just feel, just feel, just feel.

These liminal spaces have always served me so beautifully. Little cleaners. Sweeping away the past, wiping away the future, planting fertile seeds in the soil of now.

And while joyfully swim in this liminal space (I am literally writing to you from it now), I have been musing on the purest ways to love…

Immediately, my younger brother’s voice comes to my mind:

“Amber, I am not going to tell you my thoughts because you already know the answer.”

Damn.

He may have said this to me a million times, but each time he inevitably repeats it, it sets the bar higher.

Drills the mirror of love deeper.

In many moments, we yearn to outsource our intuition, outsource our knowing…and it is in those exact moments that we are called to expand what we already understand.

Inner - stand.

It’s in this innerstanding, that I have concluded:

The deepest way to love is to guide one back to themselves.

As I am sipping my morning coffee, God winks down too…

I open The Forty Rules of Love just as Shams of Tabriz tells a rebel apprentice dervish:

There are more fake gurus and false teachers in this world than the number of stars in the visible universe. Don’t confuse power-driven, self-centered people with true mentors.

A genuine spiritual master will not direct your attention to himself or herself and will not expect absolute obedience or utter admiration from you, but instead will help you to appreciate and admire your inner self.

True mentors are transparent as glass. They let the Light of God pass through them.

I look around at my life, and I see this beautiful dance of light, a mosaic of colors, singularly unique yet also blending to make a landscape of love.

The light is passing through stain-glassed windows, each one a different individual in our lives who teaches us how to love.

Not by forcing us to fit, but welcoming us to be.

Welcoming us to see..maybe not what we can, but what we can’t.

And if the light feels dull, teaching us to remember that we can always come back by seeing the light in others too.

Somos luz.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• This lyrics of this literally are the musical accompaniment to this piece

• #1 August fixation song

• The Drama - speaking of loving for who someone is; I loveddd this :”)

  

• Something’s Gotta Give - this is one of my top comfort movies ever lol I watch this maybe 3-4 times a year? Something in the nostalgia of the 2000s as well as the simplicity of the humor; so sweet and warming

  

• Others: time alone, espresso and coconut water, sleep, Jupiter kriya, enjoying monotony, stretching, figs, Rossmann, nectarines, letting things be imperfect, calling Taylor up, time to wander, time to wonder, time as prayer

Besitos. <3

The last time I felt called to write was June 14th. It went as it normally goes - the sky opens up, a bright, blinding light shines down, God hands me an idea on a silver platter. Adelante. Duh.

Lol.

I’m not sure if you can access the divine meteorology records, but lately the skies have seemed to be shut.

Or maybe:

They have always been open.

This idea that, well, ideas have to deliver themselves in these deep profound moments.

When really they are in the simple ones…the pure ones…the honest ones…the everyday ones…

To name a few:

Moment #1:

It was a Sunday morning, and I had signed up for a pilates class the previous night at a new studio. Before bed, I looked up the class, typing the name into Google Maps from memory to see how long the walk was; about 25 mins away.

Set my alarm accordingly, went to bed, woke up, went on said walk.

You’ve arrived! There is no class going on. Huh?

Open Classpass - turns out my memory was wrong - totally different name of studio, but lucky me the right one is only a few blocks away.

I sign up for the next one and grab a coffee.

As I am sitting there, an adorable dachshund finds it’s way to me and sits on my lap. It won’t leave. Like humans, when I resonate with energy, I resonate with energy.

Turns out his name is Tino. I think in my head, “wow, I want to ask them if I can watch him…but is that weird?”

Tino’s owners in the same moment: “He seems to really like you, if you ever want to hang out with him please text us.”

*Clouds open*

Fast forward three weeks - I had a ton of friends in town and this fell to the back of my brain. Randomly on a Wednesday morning I think of Mr. Tino. I text his owners.

Response: “OMG, actually one of us is out of town and we were having trouble finding someone to watch him tonight.”

*Clouds open up again*

Benditooooo.

Moment #2:

It’s a Friday evening and again, after essentially a month of some of my favorite humans visiting the city, I finally have a week to, well, go into my little portal.

I’m working on a juicy project, and I run out of water at my house, so I walk across the street to get some. I literally never drink beer, but the clara on the shelf speaks to me in all its wonder.

For some reason, I grab two even though - eh, if I’m feeling saucy….or save for tomorrow.

When I arrive back to my building, an Amazon delivery man is waiting for someone to let him in. The portero is off duty, and it’s clearly on of his final packages for the day. It’s 95 degrees out btw.

He looks so relieved when I walk up. Hola!

His package belongs on the ground level. As he’s dropping the package, the clara’s condensation bleeds through the bag and onto my arm.

¡Perdona! ¿Quieres?

*His eyes are the clouds opening up*

Moment #3:

Here right. Right now. Us. Yours. Ours.

Magic isn’t something we need to look for. It’s something we make when we allow ourselves to be in it.

…Whatever is going through your head as you think through to the skies opening up to you.

~~~

May we let the portal take us. All we gotta do is open our door.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• So lovely

• If you hear me singing this under my breath dancing while waiting for the V13 .. yes, yes you do … rusowsky is so so summer

• The Sound of Metal - aaaaah crack your heart open … my younger brother and I stay in touch through film, and he had been pushing me to watch this for so long … holy … wow .. my favorite film probably since seeing Perfect Days … it captures the struggle of finding peace with reality with such accuracy .. also the struggle of loving those struggling with such .. please watch <3

  

• The Devil Wears Prada 2 - honestly needed; I appreciated the emphasis on human creativity … this satisfied my little girl self with such nostalgia

  

• The Fall - LOVED…confusing and amazing and joyous and sad and oh so human; the visuals are insane… also love seeing through the lens of the young girl’s imagination

  

• Other things: noticing expectations and releasing them (even if gruelingly difficult), saying yes, stupid jokes, belly laughing, pilates, running again (wepaaaa humidity), chocolate brown, linen, feeling beautiful, turquoise anything, square toed flats, having a rotating list of humans I call and playing call rolette until someone picks up, spending any free time in the sea, looking at the things I’ve been avoiding (and treating them as fun and exploration), Vichy + lemon + salt (Catalan suero lol), old friends meeting new friends, stone fruit (particularly white nectarines), leaving cold cut up watermelon in the fridge for friends, smiling at strangers (always) … and of course:

  • Enjoying the gift that it is to be here

    • What the heck ??? we’re really just on earth

Besitos.

Everything is an answered prayer.

I recently found an old journal from 2019:

“Trusting your fears because your evolution lies in their release.”

9:45p, a Thursday evening in my childhood bedroom - I sipped the words like a warm chamomile tea before bed.

It was my first time home in 8 months, and the trip held up a mirror to all the change that had alchemized within me.

Happy change, good change, slow change, woah change.

The kind that allows you to accept yourself, and therefore totally alchemize all of the relationships around you, mirroring the acceptance you’re able now able to extend to others.

And yet the funny thing about change is that once we’ve realized it’s taken place, we get hungry for more.

From seeing what’s possible, the desires for what we’d like ahead begin to plant roots.

For me, when this begins to happen, I start taking inventory of all the things that haven’t happened, of all the things I now must do…the tic-toc of time suddenly bears a heavy weight over my heart, which then cuts off from air flow to my brain, which then creates an absolute spiral of my mind.

And in that moment - I suddenly get the urge from somewhere beyond - hi spirit - to go in my stack of 100s of journals and pull out this one, open this page.

Suddenly we’re back.

It’s one thing to look ahead to the future and hope that we are the answered prayer to the thing that we want. I hope it comes to me! I hope I am a match! We hope, we hope, we cope, we cope.

But often, we forget to look around and see:

Everything we are living we once prayed for.

For some reason at some point in the past (what the heck is time, but for the sake of this, a moment before the one you are currently in) there was a desire posited in you.

The fairies came, dropped it off, flew away.

Too-da-loo mamita.

They have no reason to promise you they will be back because the desire itself is the wish fulfilled.

The desire is the single seed that needs to be nourished.

Why would it be placed in you in the first place?

Por ejemplo, why the heck would I get that urge to go shuffle through some diaries and turn to this one?

And so everything we’re living now in THIS moment - not the ones before nor the ones ahead of it - but right now - even me typing these words, you reading this screen.

Everything is an answered prayer.

In September of 2019, I had read The Master Key to Riches by Napoleon Hill for the first time (can you tell I was in my startup era) and in it, it asks you to outline your Definite Major Purpose, basically: What is the central mission or direction that gives coherence to my life right now?

In the page of this journal, I had written mine down.

Seven years later, down to a T, it describes not only my daily life (who I spend my time with, how my heart feels, the conditions of where I live) but also exactly what I have been alchemizing for the last 18 months with HUMAN AF.

My past self waving my present self hello.

Living flowers in bloom.

Our prayers and their answers are always right here.

I kinda hate being told what to do, but if I may suggest:

Look up from the screen wherever you are and really take inventory of what you are witnessing.

Even if it is the worst day of your life, there is likely something about this living condition that has taken root from a very honest, raw, pure desire your past self once had. Your past self once deeply set the intention for.

Hell, even if you don’t pray, your holding of the want in your heart acted as fertile ground for it to come to life.

A book shelf full of your favorite reads with carefully annotated notes, a phone full of loving messages from friends and family - many of whom you could call any time of day and they’d pick up, a fridge stocked with nourishing, well grown food, cozy sheets, work that lights up your being, a strong, able body.

While the new seeds of today are being posited, it’s easy to skim over the answered prayers that have already taken bloom.

But in their dismissal we also rob the answers of the future.

More precisely: we rob the wisdom of the now.

How can we receive more if we are not stewarding what we have right here?

The answer is: I don’t think we can.

Everything is an answered prayer.

If we give ourselves the space to remember.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• Soft early summer Sundays:

• Aaaaand naturally long summer days:

  • Everything from dembow to Italian disco to afrobeats - basically my entire taste span lol ~~~

• Shows that brought me silliness + joy:

  • It’s been a minute since I shared so there are many ~

  • Fleabag - I am so late on this but absolutely adored… the monologue in Season 2 Episode 3 was total brilliance - people are all we’ve got

  • Adults - nuanced yet silly; sort of angsty in this nice indulging way; deep nostalgia for NYC days

    • Intro song - love it:

  • Overcompensating - a friend showed me this and apparently I live under a rock bc I had absolutely no clue who Benito Skinner is but loved this; it captures the awkwardness of college oh-so-well (the same bits that drove me to entirely live my life off campus, haha) but alas so many laughs, really enjoyed

• Films:

  • Flashdance - iconic; I love 80s + 90s films; more of this non-linear, imperfect content plsssss

    

  • Cape Fear - watched this with my dad bc of the new Javier Bardem series; don’t love gore but this was good + again appreciate the element of nostalgia and realness it brings from the time

    

  • We Live in Time - LOVEDDD omg tears tears tears

    

• Aaaand most importantly what can never be captured here in its fullness, appreciating the joy of connection oh-so-much.

  With that let’s all get off our screens now. <3

  Besitos.

The kitchen is clean. And so is my heart. Both have been seasoned, molded, washed away by infinite hands who make it one.

When I was younger, we would eat dinner together every night. My parents are some of the most incredible cooks on the planet. We all say that about our padres but given the countless friends who have been graced by their food: they are the best.

Around 14, I was enamored (and disturbed) so much so by the Cowspiracy documentary that I decided at all costs I needed to be vegan. One of the costs being the majority of my parents cooking.

Often, they would cook and leave arroz con gandules for me, then I would whip up all of my other veghead additions.

One expense that never came from this decision, though, was cleaning the kitchen.

Each night, once we were done eating, all of us went into position. Like muscle memory.

The younger of my two younger brothers on counters, the other on loading the dishwasher, me on rinsing the dishes to hand over to him.

Dad on stove, my stepmom on sweeping the floor.

Sometimes the roles would change if we were feeling rowdy, but even then, it was left unsaid. The rhythm of our movements always in step.

Family dances on God’s beat.

The words of our conversations (more like our banter) escape me but the joy of these moments are imprinted in my heart.

My dad teasing my stepmom, her being equal parts school-girl-flattered and spicy back (you wonder where I get it).

My brothers recounting some wild story from their all-guys academy, us being appalled by teenage boy nonsense. Me sharing some passionate discovery and everyone attentively listening as well as rightfully sometimes rolling their eyes.

Life is made in the small moments that our minds forget but our hearts remember.

Yesterday, I went for a run, and before I left, my friend asked me where I was going. I replied, “Wherever my body takes me.”

When we let our minds lead the way, we end up far from where we’re supposed to be. Meanwhile, our inner being - somewhere even beyond the body - knows exactly the way.

The compass of our souls being the precursor to the thoughts that eventually organize themselves around the truth.

On my best days, I let this truth lead. My runs feel free, flowing…knowing.

Weaving through pedestrians laughing in the street, tourists taking photos, ending up somewhere by the sea. Blissfully wandering through life.

Calling on this stillness in times where inevitably the waves get choppy. Life also dances on God’s beat.

Friends look at me as I am staring off…”what are you thinking about?”

I gratefully respond:

“Nothing.”

No-thing being the same space of all things.

What a gift to be here.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• Recently discovered Leo Middea and I cannot get enough:

• In Feb, I found a random video on a fairly strange IG page that bridged Daft Punk and perreo .. the closest I came to hearing something similar being a night out at Bambino in Paris…completely obsessed… exhibit A:

  • 

  • The dude with the IG post has like 3 posts one of which went viral (resharing from the original DJ)…I forgot about it and THEN the other night I realized this audio itself had gone viral amongst IG posts and I went on a detective hunt to find a set if it existed.. turns out it does via MARACUYá:

    • The eyebrow on this lil dog I cannot…alas…I cannot stop playing this cyber perreo mix it’s crack….spring has AHEmmmmm sprung …. back to dancing

• Also this:

• Okay things other than music:

• These beautiful notes from Octavia Butler:

• Los guantes mágicos - currently on MUBI…funny, silly meandering movie…more like a glimpse into life .. slow but the humor that makes you kinda scoff in relatability of the human experience .. ya know?

  

• BLOOMING!

  That is all for now. Besitos. <3

The world is on fire. And so are you. So am I. So are we.

No surprise there. (…and that’s on alchemy…)

I laugh as my fingers hit the keys because words on a screen never feel like they are enough to encapsulate the experiences of this ~lived~ thing called life.

What even allows these letters to shine back on a white page? Where do they go into the ether to be on your screen now?

I am grateful to the people who know the answers to these questions. In fact, I am eternally appreciative of the humans who know the answers to the infinite queries in which I am happy (although sometimes humanly reluctant) to say: “I don’t know.”

God, how much I don’t know.

At least once a day, I have this visual of video game resource bars going up and down. I look at people around me and myself and these heads-up-displays (apparently called HUDs) the things like energy + stamina bars, health levels, resource stacks pop up just above our auras.

When I am spending my energy and brain space in, say, a story of victimhood or judgment, I am like sh*t! My levels!

When I see a stranger doing a good deed, holding a door for the person behind them, helping a mom with a stroller, picking up a piece of trash - I do a little clap seeing their levels go up.

The funny thing about the life game is that when our expenditures are on the good, the energy investment actually compounds.

There’s this episode from one of the super early seasons of Keeping Up with the Kardashians where Kris comes home with a bowl with a bunch of beads in it, accounting for the expected amount of weeks she has left to live. Each week of life she lives she takes one of the beads out.

Total KUWTK moment however…also … an Ambi life moment.

While I don’t keep this bowl, I have been really considering these life tokens… how am I spending them? Am I contributing to the world around me?

Who do I look up to that spends their tokens richly, humanly, wisely?

We are so eager to hoard these coins, wait for the day when the “time is right,” push off the honest statement until we’re fully ready, say no when we want to say yes, say yes when we want to say no….

Yes, our souls are infinite, but these flesh suits do have an expiration date. And so does our species as a whole when we don’t invest with care.

We are witnessing LIVE IN REAL-TIME™️ the correlation of our everyday acts with the global condition. Our very own state-of-the-art butterfly effect right before our eyes.

I recently finished the book At Home in the World by Thich Nhat Hanh. I picked it up when wandering around an English book store. I hadn’t dove into his work before after being recommended quite often and honestly was expecting to be bored by a monologue of non-specific advice on how to live… MeDitaTe … Be GrATefUl .. all of this sounds blasphemous btw writing these words next to Thich’s name but I think he would be happy I am telling the truth.

There’s this part where he talks about when he was little and they used to give the children tea cookies in the afternoon. He would take his and find the perfect patch in the sun and take the smallest of bites he could, taking say 30 minutes to finish the cookie.

In war-torn Vietnam, this cookie was truly the purest act of human sweetness. The sugar harvested and processed. Same with the flour. All to be savored besides tea made with just as many sacred steps of intention.

His appreciation was a thank you to what it means to be human. What it means to give grace and nourishment to the brother of one’s own - one’s own being equaling all beings - the mirror of us.

God, how simple it all is.

And God, how much I still don’t know.

Which often brings me to the things I do know (we know), especially as the world’s flames continue to persuade us to believe otherwise:

• Sleeping in a house full of people is medicine.

• Everyone wants everyone to be honest.

• Laughter translates across all languages.

• Good questions are more connective than any statement.

• Food tastes better when eaten with others.

• The sun knows all things.

• To move the body is a gift, a gift that should certainly not be taken for granted when we are healthy.

• Silliness is an instant resolution (and revolution)... be silly at the doctor’s, be silly on the street, at the market, at all times, everywhere, always.

• Doing the thing when you don’t want to is often when you and others need it the most.

• Saying the f*cking thing will only bring you closer, not further away.

• People often want to help more than they want to hurt.

• The body will tell you if you just fricking listen…for the love of God, amorcito, don’t forget to listen.

• Water is life.

• Hugs should be had every day.

• As should coffee, preferably, al fresco.

…you know what I mean? YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!

And it’s okay if you don’t. It’s okay if I don’t.

Because someone else surely does.

And that’s why we continue to need one another.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• At Home in the World by Thich Nhat Hanh — this was magnificent; anecdotes on anecdotes on honey sweetness and purity and honesty of being in all its awkwardness, fault, pain, joy, monotony and, well, aliveness; an angel on earth

• The Power of Kabbalah by Yehuda Berg — really lovely entry text; can’t get enough of Kabbalah lately; the objectivity of the text paired with the deep inner connectivity to all religions; I also grew up Catholic and love reconnecting with different interpretations of the wisdom of the Bible

• Strength to Love by Martin Luther King Jr — honestly the uncanny foresight in his sermons to present day is nothing short of miraculous…an incredible being whose grace continues to sprinkle its divinity in our everyday lives; and God bless his wife Coretta Scott King who walked by his side and made this all possible

• Also some films:

  • Volver - classic; I am obsessed with Almodovar right now..something about how he captures the rawness of life but balances the vulnerability with absurdity to keep us leaning in and not shying away… chef’s kiss .. also watched Madres Paralelas recently, would say you can walk not run to watch BUT if you like Almodovar then yes definitely at some point watch

    

  • Father Mother Brother Sister - not the best acting in the world, but certainly we can all see ourselves in each of the dynamics at play in some way or another; love a series of vignettes also (c’mon 2026 attention span) also Luka Sabbat blast from the past - adore

    

  • Relatos Salvajeses (Wild Tales) - also a series of vignettes; absolute absurdity but also highlights the strange ways that humans act…our flaws on 150% exposure.. hilarious also; super Argentinian

    

  • The People We Meet on Vacation - I loveeeeeee love love love a rom-com-ish heartfelt vibe; immediately called my stepmom and we gushed; adorable

    

• Some music:

  • Super Españaaaaaa

  • Reggae always

  • Gabor is just wow

  • This one is like French cumbia and it BLEW my mind wtf

• I have also been cooking SO much but taking few pictures (more soon)… that said combos that have absolutely hit and can maybe serve as spring cooking inspo:

  • Fennel, chickpeas, SO much parsley, raisins, white wine vinegar, pepper, salt

  • Peas flash seared in EVOO, couscous, lemon, mint, salt

  • Chicken cooked w/ lemon (cut and kept in slices in dish), figs, leeks

  • Lentil soup w/ dill, dried and rehydrated porcini mushrooms, turnip, daikon, carrot, celery topped w/ yogurt

• Aaaand living life in the real world. Stranger smiles, no headphones, keep your head up PRINCESS YOUR TIARA’S FALLING - except keeping your head up means not looking at my phone haha.

That’s all for now… besitos… <3

I was chatting with one of the most important people in my life yesterday who happens to be going through a deeply challenging moment.

He was on the other side of a decision that acted as a threshold…a portal to a totally new chapter…one of those moments where there is a before x event and after x event…a personal BC / AD vibe.

Listening to him, I felt the suction cup of the void…the infinite black hole…the Spongebob episode with the never-ending all white room.

The funny thing about the possibility space is it either feels like the juiciest, yummiest, most honey-rich place to be or an absolute…hell storm…Penn Station at rush hour meets groundhog day existentialism.

Alas - in this moment I shared something with him that I can’t stop repeating in my head which I will now share with you:

“People say that having money, often from generations before us, is privilege. And in many ways it is. But the invaluable privilege is love.

Love from generations before you. Love that will accept you for any choice you make…that will join you in whatever season you step into.

It’s your responsibility to not waste that privilege.”

We can find so many ways to make money...clout..power…recognition. So many ways to generate these tiny little (big) numbers on a screen. Beep boop - world says action/thing/idea is valuable (even if it isn’t actually benefitting everyone) so dollar bill/follow is exchanged - boop.

But love….LOVE….love.

With all the irony in the world…we gotta give it to Mastercard…

It really is priceless.

My dearest angel dad used to always say to my brother and I when we were younger, “When you’re rich in love, you don’t need to worry about anything else.”

His point was that you can’t prioritize, say, money before love and expect to get more love. But when you treat love as the highest priority, as the source of all things, more of everything follows.

Similar to C.S. Lewis, “You can’t get second things by putting them first; you can get second things only by putting first things first.”

I can assure you my pops is not the kinda guy to be reading the classics, so he and Mr. Lewis must be plugged into the same wisdom…the wisdom that all things really do flow from and through love.

I think to my dad’s gnosis and often am in awe - given he was a single father who had his first child at 22, navigating a very turbulent mother of his kids (the details of which I don’t feel called to share online…heavy emphasis on turbulent).

There’s all this therapy speak on IG about men and women and family and the rules of love and what to do and not do.

Where did this dude (my dad) become the kinda man who would speak this casually to his kids in the car ride before school? Who was braiding his daughter’s hair? Who has building a treehouse by hand? Who was playing both mother and father? Who was building a business along the way?

Along with not reading the classics, he’s also not on social media…nor would he have had time to..nor would these (BS) narratives of love yet have been tainting the feed (read: collective consciousness).

The truth is when we quiet down we really all know.

When we hush the noise, the fears, the stories, the rah rah rah bc someone said it has to be like this…we know it.

It’s written in our bones like the constellations dot the sky.

But it takes bravery to remember. Courage to leave nothing on the table. To fiercely, wholly surrender to opening the most tender place of yourself. To trust that all things come from this place…even though in doing so, it also guarantees you likely will experience pain along the way.

And in that, keep going. Remain honest. Remain true.

Because the first order of love begins with you.

The clarity and grace of which only brings deeper mirrors of love in your orbit. The stadium of your being glowing with generations of love. Now, then, always.

A privilege.

One that must damn sure better not be wasted.

Kiss kiss.

Other bites:

• Speaking of… fixation song:

• The film Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios (Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown) - literally cracking up alone on a Sunday night ridiculous and endearing; if you like Bigas Luna, you will love; colors and set and soundtrack just great good fun

• Ms luna showing off on Leo full moon

  

• Sauna, dill in soup, deep winter work, waking up early to see the sunrise, devotion to the gym, stretching, stupid comedy, monochrome outfits, chocolate brown everything, fascia release, re-watching sex and the city for the millionth (7th) time, cold but sunny days, wander around the city days, meet friends spontaneously and get home 12 hours later days, rest days, meh days, super meh days, great days, all days

Besitos.

I am sitting at Casa Bonay on a Saturday afternoon and they are playing Mystery of Love and it feels so annoyingly basic cinematic. So much so that I roll my eyes and just let myself be washed over in it. Why do we rob ourselves of letting ~it~ take us?

I remember when I was 5 and there were songs like Fix You or Chasing Cars and I would look out of the window and pretend that I was moving through time and space into a portal of possibility. Transmutation really.

I would actively use tuning into the music as a way to feel a new reality - perhaps to anchor into the knowing that another one must exist if I could feel it inside at the moment.

Through this logic… I knew if I could feel something inside it would have to be possible in the outside world at some point. But only if I held the frequency.

Only if I let the song wash over me in the kid backseat. Not jump away from it. Not lean out. Deadpan out the window.

As I’m here now 2026 today, I have this immense weight in my heart - not necessarily sad, but also not particularly joyous.

I miss my family.

I literally feel my eyes welling up with tears bc I am exactly where I want to be but simultaneously wish that I could pull a reverse Men in Black Gun out where it could re-member reality such that everyone I love’s timelines could coincide in the same exact place in the exact same moment.

And then as I conjure this feeling - I realize that this imagined reality is no different than the one I currently feel sitting in this chair. Here. Now. In all my limbs. In all my heart.

Through this logic…it must be possible to quite literally walk with all we have loved in our hearts.

Sometimes I conjure the physical feeling of hugging a specific person who is not literally with me and then days later I will text them about something and then they’ll be like so weird, I literally felt you so close a few days ago.

My point in saying all of this, perhaps reiterating to myself:

We are energy.

We end up wandering off into the land of soo much logic, sooo much figuring, soooo much twisting and turning and flopping and flailing and then God please help me to put the mind down.

Fear and Loathing en Las Mentes.

Tiring ourselves out so much that there’s nothing left to do but return to our bodies:

Oh…yep….this is where the love lives. ..

Like spending a long summer day at the beach. Hair sea-dried. Skin warm to the touch. The deliciousness of the shower. Yumminess of looking in the mirror sun-kissed. Gulp, gulp, gulp of rehydrating. Stumb b blinnnnnng into dinner bc you didn’t make a reservation. Buzzzzzz. Drinks, music, company, air, wind. The breeze that guides you home. The same one that sings you to sleep.

Good night. Goodnight. Good life.

All of these moments only coming to fruition because we allowed ourselves to sit with the seed of the feeling. Not the meandering of the thought. Accepted the first order invite to the now.

It’s all right here!

Waiting to be remembered. When we resist the temptation to forget.

Kiss kiss. <3

Other Bites:

• This whole album … 😭 I think I must have walked at least 30 miles listening to this beginning to end by now…

• Witnessing history

• Lol

  

• We just get to be witness to this??? ?

Besitos mi gente.. <3

The following is from the archives of writing that live on my laptop and sometimes, purely, are cherished in my own heart….specifically a dream that was more of a remembrance than a new vision…most specifically, a visitation of my brother (who is also my best friend) and I in a past life….and of course jaguar medicine…Which then ended up guiding so much that is frankly hard to put into words but feels important to at least try. ~ Disfruta.

—-

With all of my being I hope to never stop living.

The act alone of striving makes me feel more *being.*

My heart swells as if Low Sun is pumping through my literal veins and there’s a part of me that wants to turn the music off and at the same time turn the IV gauge wider so more flows through.

What is this dance?

In not knowing the answer, I want to be here even more.

Swimming, seeing, swimming, swimming, swimming.

~~~~

I am asleep. There is a curtain covering the doorway, next to it a set of long reeds holding the frame high.

The floor is dirt.

The veil is thin.

Through it passes a jaguar.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Each passing coming with it honey knowing. Dripping through the cosmos and landing somewhere in my dreams.

Their energy. I feel it. I wake. I approach the doorway.

I press against them. What are you doing here?

God please don’t make them my responsibility.

They push, they push, though not through force. But by being.

The reeds fall. The veil drifts to the earth.

Back to dust.

And there they are.

Two beings.

The girl, the senior of the boy standing beside her.

Cheek bones high. Browlines defined. Jaws stern.

Lips lined in rust red.

Eyes just the same.

Taking me in.

Into them.

Into me.

The eyes chico…I guess the sages said it too.

They are the same exact beings as my younger brother and I in this life.

The two wander. The jaguar follows suit. Has known them forever.

As they have known themselves.

Burdens to none because wisdom is the fabric of their DNA.

Dawn breaks.

And from the dust, I realize I have always known them too.

~~~~

Speaking of the jaguar, in fall of 2024, I spent a fair amount of time in San Miguel.

A week before I went, I was walking around my room in CDMX, and this serpent ring that I religiously wore broke off my finger.

It was the most bizarre thing because I hadn’t been doing anything. It quite literally, well, snapped off of my hand. ????? What.

I have written about when things break or are lost, it often symbolizes one season ending and another season beginning.

When the ring broke, there was also a *ding ding ding* sound from above like at a high school basketball game: girlie goo, the next quarter is about to start.

Fast forward to me walking around a market in San Miguel the following week.

There was a man with notably magical energy who I kept catching synchronistically throughout the city. At a concert. A taqueria 20 minutes outside of the main town. At a festival.

And then finally at this Saturday market.

Like a scene out of a movie, he was looking through a rack of clothes positioned at a table next to the jewelry vendor I was at.

When he pushed the clothes aside, we looked into each other’s eyes. And me being the shy Amber that I am, looked down.

When I did, my eyes landed on the most magnificent gold jaguar ring.

Oddly tiny for the average adult hand. I immediately picked it up and put it on my pinky finger and haven’t taken it off since.

I didn’t realize how symbolic it was in the moment.

The jaguar replaced the serpent.

Acting replacing learning.

Owning replacing shedding.

Being replacing becoming.

As I look back…and forward…and above…and below… I see this is the same jaguar medicine that was in the dream.

As well as the same one that has been guiding me all along.

~~~~

October 26th, London. In the UK, we lost an hour. I call my parents. That hour still remains for them in PA.

November 2nd. I call them again. “We lost an hour of sleep last night.”

Where are those hours?

Where does time go?

Where am I in relation?

In my imagination, there is a man with a cozy sleep cap rubbing his naughty paws together resting on all the time we have been fools to give up.

Naughty or wise?

I prefer the latter.

Cumbia Lunar.

He plays in the night. Wandering in the dreams that we are afraid to explore. Time not spent doing. But deposited in the memory of being.

Señor sandman. ¿Recibes visitas?

No words. Just a shake of the head.

No room for those that want to live halfway.

Because being half alive.

Also means being half gone.

I resign to being a permanent resident of the now.

And here, we find eternal vacancy.

Kiss kiss

Other Bites

• I literally just sobbed on the subway the first time I heard this song…chills…music is the best thing on earth OKur

  • It reminds me of the first time I listened to Peter Cat Recording company and was like “wtf did they put in this???”

• This whole playlist just is honey winter warm energy:

• I have been in a total podcast portal, some episodes I spefically loved:

  • The Gstaad Guy Podcast: Davide de Pierro: Love, Dating, and the Complexity of Being Human — lovely dialogue on romanticizing life + the wisdom of devotion; these are two really great male voices on the internet rn (alongside Javier Bardem, Davide Baroncini, Matthew McConaughey…)

  • Pia Barconcini x Ky Dickens from the Telepathy Tapes — wow; really beautiful to witness Pia’s experience with her autistic daughter paired with the deep wisdom that Ky Dickens has accumulated given her work with the Telepathy Tapes…this put me in a bit of a rabbithole w/ Telepathy Tapes, finally diving back in after so many people have recommended

  • Call Her Daddy x Bethenney Frankel — brutally human convo; I have always loved both of them for their wholeness + feel this sheds light on the depth of suffering that makes most creatives into the expansive alchemists they are… Bethenney’s story is awesome…cried the whole time as I deeply relate to her childhood and felt this relaying of it to be very inspiring

• Gremlins Christmas energy…always reminds me of my G of a father who made damn sure we knew the classics…Gizmo is certainly one of my spirit animals..

• Random things: Tuesday night cooking dinner with friends, vermut, Haribo advent calendar, smiling at strangers (this is always a thing), ginger cinnamon tea in the stove at all times when home, properly making time to stretch, Christmas movies, walkiiiiiinnnnnnggggg (also always), texting ppl exactly when I think of them w/ the random joke or essence that only they will understand, taking a break from reading, trash fun media, laughing, going to amusement parks as an adult, sending postcards, being a child con tus amigos, laughing oh so so much…. basically live laugh love or somethin…

Besos. <3

“The way you look at people makes them feel naked.”

“Like I want to devour them?”

“No.” “Like you can see to their core.” … “like they can’t hide”

…

*travels back in time*

I’m looking at myself in the mirror. An 11-yr old face is staring back at me. But she’s not looking at me. She’s looking somewhere beyond. But also within.

I touch the mirror to make sure I’m still there.

…

*again back to present day*

“It’s like you’re looking through people. To somewhere in their center.”

…

It’s Tuesday, October 7th, and I randomly got this urge to buy new glasses1 and in true Amber fashion it feels like this deeply meaningful moment. I half roll my eyes because mamita, tranquilo.

But with the loving eyes that see to the center, I realize this response is core to me.

Frankly, I think know it’s true to us.

I’d say welcome to the light side but you are the mf’n light and somewhere in Catholic grade school we learned that repetition was the death of good writing.

Lil Amber in a yellow + grey plaid jumper sticks her tongue out2.

So, why are we afraid?

In 2024, I became mildly obsessed with sitting in the sun. I think because in its light, I couldn’t help but be warmed.

Even if it also illuminated my shadows.

There’s nowhere to escape to, and in the warmth, even the darkness becomes a loving exploration rather than a doom-laced labyrinth of unraveling.

What do you see?

Sometimes I can’t tell you.

Not because there’s nothing here, but because the truth can’t be put into words.

I was dating this guy last year, and if he was put into my life to simply have me remember this statement, than god bless:

“Do you ever have people over for dinner and you all go out afterwards but you don’t want to come home because you don’t want to see the mess that’s left waiting for you?”

He was referring to the inner crevices of his own life, but I remember feeling like damn.

I would rather go home and accept that we had a good time.

That all wonderful moments also have an inverse.

And our capacity for both is where we rest.

The truth being beyond this or that.

Beyond here or there.

Beyond I, or you, or me, or us.

It’s the same energy that tempts me to conclude this piece here.

To let it sink in.

Let it sit and simmer.

To cook on low heat.

But this same energy of truth, it’s been knocking on the door of my heart lately.

Gently, of course, as she always does:

The truth isn’t meant to be hidden.

It’s meant to be shared.

So here we end.

Just as we begin.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• Soooo so beautiful wow….

  • I am not fluent in French but looked up the lyrics only to confirm what I felt the song to be.

    • Which I will not translate and you can take as a lil side quest for yourself.

      • God don’t you just love music ..

• Really in the film/TV/documentary portal lately

  • Closer — I was try to tell my little brother more about it but honestly I can’t describe it without ruining the plot. Extremely human and one of those films where you hate the behaviors of the characters while simultaneously empathizing with the complexity of what they are facing.

    

  • Before Sunrise — so awwwwww; a reminder that we can always offer ourselves spontaneity…joy and adventure are a decision always available to us! my wish if for us all to have as many before sunrise moments as we can/need in this life

    • pls I want to hear your fondest before sunrise moments

      

• Billie Eilish Documentary (The World’s a Little Blurry)

  • I am not particularly a fan but her devotion to not only her craft but her intuition…the voice behind her voice…it’s a great portal of remembrance

• My IG algorithm is changing to things like this which means my internal world is a mix of mushy (the good kind) and silly …

  • Thank God…no more 5 ways to heal your anxious attachment aroeinaqwpi3uber rah rah rah…send me memes only pls and ty …

    • Literally me in my saturn return shadow:

Andddddd that’s all I got. TQM!

Besitos.

I am currently at Bar Bauma writing in my journal1 which will be translated to a screen.

Hola. From the screen.

I lost my luggage (80 lb bag w/ most of my belongings) last week. Well, Air Canada did (pero God freed me).

I fell for my first FB rental scam. I arrived at an Airbnb which wasn’t aligned with its description afterwards. I found another in two hours.

Ahora, estoy aqui.

As my hand runs across the page, the ink mirrors the thread of uncertainty between all of these words.

I read the ChatGPT rabbit holes I went down trying to unpack almost every situation above. I also read the other threads about other mental traps I placed myself in on everything from dating to making the best running shoe choice.

A truth throughout a lot of my personal history is: I’ve tried oh-so-hard to escape the discomfort of uncertainty.

And for a while, I was fairly good at convincing myself it didn’t apply to me.

I essentially held a black belt in whirlwind romance, building other people’s ideas, obsessing over workouts + nutrition. Hell, I even started a party production group in college to avoid my own potential (more posts on this soon? dime).

As if I am some special breed of homo sapiens who is allowed to skip the gene. That I am absolved from the single thing that makes this experience human. Uncertainty.

Take a good f*cking look. You might just be witnessing history right here.

Sadly I don’t believe in autographs because names are just words so writing one on your dad’s vintage baseball hat doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of #truth. Lol.

“What are you trying to control in your life for fear that you’ll be disappointed?” – a best friend on a late night phone call.

Ooooooof.

Ya know those moments when you’re wearing a romper and you really have to pee but you push it off because in order to do so you basically have to get naked in the bar bathroom and you’d rather enjoy your buzz than hope there’s no issue with the lock on the door?

This is the moment where a stranger bombards in.

Except in this case, I am begging you, please…take 0 f*cking look.

But…I am not a stranger.

We are not strangers to ourselves.

Por que tenemos miedo de ver?

Why are we afraid to see?

It’s funny (but also *of course*) that the same time the physical baggage referenced above was lost I have been simultaneously going through a metamorphosis moment.

Large questions around home, business, friendship, partnership, familia…these seem to be washing over me in this deep encoded knowing.

Like they have always been here, but the gene switches have been turned on.

I mentioned this in other pieces, like when I suddenly lose/break things (shoutout the green headphones on the park bench) or something deeply out of my control takes place (por ejemplo: a Mexican immigration office denying my tourist visa, a job being no longer, unrequited love, etc etc etc).

These events are less catalysts than they are physical manifestations of the timeline shift that has already energetically occurred within.

If you think about it, physical matter is the slowest form of energy. Entonces, the gigantic almost absurd shifts we see in the external world are actually really lovely reminders, proof points, if you will, giving a little nod, “you’re energy has upgraded, mi amor.”

Onwards.

It’s like we get these little software updates (if we allow ourselves to). And there’s solace in knowing that our hardware stays the same.

Our hardware not as our bodies, but as our souls. Our hearts. These vessels that are uniquely ours to move through life with. That are imprinted with a unique set of values, desires, karma to clear, gifts, skill sets.

To alchemize energy through. If we give ourselves the chance.

I sometimes question – is this the late 20s in me showing itself??? Changing environments. Loving the things that pull me. Listening to the pull. Not doubting it when it gently starts its orchestration.

I was chatting with a friend who has a decade or so more years on earth than I do, and he shared, “It’s not blindly wandering. It’s honest, genuine listening.”

That’s that on that, huh?

The astrology baddies call it quantum leaping. I…Amber Marie Theurer… simply call it:

Human. Being.

Also known as … being human.

Living in alignment with the devotion that is asked of us.

God how good it feels to lose the baggage that holds us back from doing so.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• This playlist…pls pin for your Sunday stroll…solo couch hangs writing with candle lit…wandering around the city:

• Little known fact…I am a movie fiend….when the season strikes…and it seems I am back in it.. recents I loved:

  • Jamon Jamon (cmonnnnnn…..Javier Bardem forever and always)

  • On Swift Horses (ik had mixed reviews but honestly sometimes the cringe is part of the joy… also Jacob Elordi…I will gladly drink the Koolaid)

  • Closer (just .. yeah….true)

    • All of these hold an early 2000s energy of truth…I haven’t yet come to a formal thread on this but I love the energy of the early 2000s for the reason that it was the innocent bridge between media and storytelling and it’s so apparent in film…

      • Even if films weren’t made in this time but hold the energy of it

• Esoy un fashion LOVER…another unknown fact: people used to hire me in NYC to revamp their wardrobes for them…instead of being a personal shopper, I would “scan” people’s inner identity and then help them keep the things that made them feel that and identify gaps in their wardrobe that would allow them to embody these traits…. I love finding niche brands…

  • I did this process on myself since losing most of my belongings. Here are some brands I am obsessed with:

    • ese o ese — Portugal-based basics + timeless pieces; the basics all hold a buttery, chic quality; things like their linens + denim hold a structure yet ease to their form

    • Bimba y Lola — bold but still self-aware; like the better part of Betsy Johnson with the nonsense left behind

    • BIBA Leather — Spanish-sourced, India-constructed; unique but in the subtle stitching and structure; nothing loud, genuine care; colorways are stunning…think: thoughtful burgundies and rich verde complimentary everyday browns and blacks

    • United Colors of Benetton — forever a fav; the J Crew of across the pond; was delightfully surprised to love their bathing suits this year!

• I have been having a deep aversion to social media however here are some folks that bring me a lot of authentic joy online:

  • Sean the Science Kid — the coolest ever; I am rooting for his life trajectory as if he is my own son

  • Pia Baroncini — literally started crying thinking of being a boy mom with a husband watching her and Davide’s videos the other night

  • Jenna Zoe — spot on…always…especially in the unfolding collective world around us

• Books:

  • On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous – LOVED this; gorgina…haha. Not but truly. I paused reading it for the spring and summer and then came back to it and couldn’t get enough; deliciously alive, true, confronting, daring, funny; Ocean Vuong you are king

  • Nada – not finished yet but deeply enjoying; exploration of the Spanish Civil War; if you are also in the Spanish learning process, the translation also is mappable to the Spanish translation (idk how to explain this but it will make sense if you know…point being it will support your Spanish learning process…my goal is to read this in Spanish soon)

• Language learning

  • I want to dedicate an entire piece to this but the summary is: DAMN.

    • I had a tutor while living in Mexico but recently have felt the deep pull that comes with honest commitment (+ need) and let me say: language is one of the most humbling elements of our existence

      • It makes sense why the Tower of Babble was so important lmao

    • I studied Latin growing up and the inter-workings of Romance languages are such a gift to our evolution…

      • I’M IN LOVE!

Dios te bendiga.

— Amber <3

It’s 12:51pm and I’m sitting on my Gracia Airbnb couch. It’s a shade of blue that reminds me of one of the many shades I witnessed in Geneva just last weekend, particularly the blue of the river Rhône. A turquoise that says: “come to me.”

I have left the apartment twice today:

The first time to locate some fresh bread as the avocado in my fridge was begging for a lively companion. And of course an Americano. This also led me to Cal Frutos, my fav Barcelona grocery chain thus far, where I had a lovely conversation with a Peruvian man whose name I feel guilty for forgetting…but whose eyes still twinkle in my heart as I write this now.

Like the river Rhône, this remembrance washes away the guilt like the most natural thing on earth. It looks at me like…”Duh.”

The second was to fetch another Americano and to go back to a really f*cking cool art supply store I stumbled upon earlier in the week. Originally I went in to see if they sold notebooks as I need a new journal. They did not. But something else caught my eye and again, I let myself forget.

Suddenly, while giving the avocado a cozy breakfast bed, I remembered: it would be the perfect gift for my little brother’s birthday.

On the walk home, I recall my experiences from the prior night.

I was visited in a dream by my mother, a welcomed encounter since we haven’t spoken in 15 years.

Again, I forget the words. I remember the feeling in my heart.

The art supplies in my hands, the dream, the images of my brother’s totally realistic—and-perfectly-technically-sound-ink-to-paper drawings. They whirl around me in a portal, almost like the scene in The Last Mimzy:

The portal feels like home.

I have this memory of my mom, who like my brother, was (is?) a technically-perfect artist. She could look at anything…a hand, a cartoon, a bird flying by…and immediately bring it to life using a crayon and a kids paper placement at Friendly’s. Frankly, using anything at her disposal.

We were at one of her client’s homes and she was painting this mural of a scene from Precious Moments. I loved when she would bring me with her. For 5-year-old me, it was like watching Picasso in flow state.

I would bring my Discman and listen to Hillary Duff and by proxy enter into the flow state with her. Like a secondhand high.

I didn’t realize that in that slightly elevated state, I was belting out the lyrics to Why Not…

“take a crazy chance?

Why not (why not) do a crazy dance?

If you lose the moment, you might lose a lot

So, why not? Why not?”

My mom was trying to get through to me to realize the volume of my off kilter voice. Waving her hands…her client entering the room…both of them finally getting my attention.

My lil cinco self feeling so 😅.

More importantly, I remember simultaneously feeling so …like…who gives a sh*t .. confused why they didn’t want to sing too.

I start cracking up walking down the sunny streets of Barcelona. The breeze a welcomed reprieve after a massive heat wave.

The same winds washing in a final remembrance:

Of how good it feels to remember the good.

Like the wind relieving some of the heat, a welcomed respite from a sea of remembering the pain of my personal history.

An invitation to see the past in technicolor. To map it to the current moment. And remember why *this* is why it gets to be so good.

Adding excitement to the what has been. For it means what gets to be will hold the wisdom of what was.

Life is so beautiful lately. Not because more beauty has been dumped into the quota of beauty available.

But because I keep remembering, remembering, remembering.

The good parts. The bad parts. The warm parts. The cold parts. The blue parts. The you parts.

The things that make the ~me~ parts.

Que siempre recordemos.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• This vibe

• Murakami kick that I can’t stop…

  • Men Without Women … so insanely delicious; portals to the nuance of our experiences of one another…

    • I feel like it shares energy with White Lotus? Just showcasing the multi-faceted, nonlinear, nonbinary nature of our decisions + being alive in a very fun, addicting way

  • Norwegian Wood .. clasicooooooooooo

    • Also it’s the time of year when I’m like okay enough nonfiction gosh…joyyyyy joy joy compass hey now YUM

• Me crying at the last page of Norwegian Wood…so endearingly (+ slightly obnoxious) late 20’s energy of me tbh…

  

• Geneva colors :)

• Bites of bites:

  • Smiling at strangers, being really fucking honest, tea infusions (particularly: maca, ginger, orange peel, cinnamon), 2 euro cafecito con abuelitas instead of a hype coffee shop, The Studio Paris, acupuncture (always), sending postcards, celebrating synchronicities, stretching, singing, slow mornings, Bentonite Clay (also always), savoring the smell of cigarettes but not breaking…hahaha..

• Finally out of the deep reggaeton + dancehall era…back in:

That’s all for now. besitos <3

It’s 4pm in Corralejo. The sun and the wind (locally called Alisios1) are at this perfect equilibrium in which it’s not too hot nor too cold. Delicious.

Making it even more yummy is a song that comes on the speaker that one of my best friends is controlling.

God what is this? (Also is he reading my mind?)

It’s the perfect melody to the moment.

I purposefully don’t Shazam the song because I know it’s on a playlist he made that I haven’t yet listened to in full.

I figured it was the closest I could come to feeling like it was my first time hearing it again. Let the playlist surprise me.

I realize this is something I unconsciously do quite often. The letting life surprise me thing.

What a blessing to see these words dribble onto the page.

I Shazam’d the song because I wanted you to hear it too:

I am glad I did…

Je ne connais rien à l'amour

Je le cherche encore

Je le cherche tous les jours

I know nothing about love

I'm still looking for it

I'm looking for it everyday

In the theme of surprises, I have recently been caught off guard by how much I love spending a lot of time with others.

It sounds trite to write this on a keyboard and shoot it into the ether.

But as I look back at the last five-ish years in particular, I realize how much I didn’t allow this to be true.

It’s almost as if this shade washed over me.

A window screen between myself and the world. I could look out and see through the screen of course and others could see within, but nothing could truly get in or out.

But you see, the thing is I couldn’t see that the screen had been installed.

It’s like I got a veryyyyyy slow software update. With each and every thought of insufficiency, imposter syndrome, not enoughness (you know the drill), the shade was being built: don’t see me.

More precisely: don’t see me fully.

If you can only see some, then there is not chance of the whole thing being sour. If you only take a bite of one portion of the dish, then you can’t say you don’t like the entire meal.

After becoming a master contortionist in never allowing my full self to be seen, I was worn out. I myself couldn’t see anything at all.

When you bend to the desires of what you think others want to see in you, you eventually lose sight of yourself.

And so, I quite literally took everything out of my vision.

How could I see others if I couldn’t see myself?

After deeply enjoying a month long trip in Mexico, I decided to stay for….who knew how long it would be at the time.

It ended up being almost 1.5 years.

This all happened under the hood though. In the moment, I was just following the pull of my heart.

Hindsight is only known after the fact.

I get a whole other dose of hindsight when driving through the windy roads of Jandía…down to the beach of Playa de Cofete…y dentro de mi corazon.

The tears trickle down my face.

They grieve the parts of me that got entranced by isolation. “Don’t get your identity on me!” they screamed as I refined the edges of my own.

I realized that I had spent so much time in solitude which was at first very needed that I went totally into the cave of isolation. One in which I became fearful of coming out. I was so afraid that others would reject the whole being that had gone within, and subsequent that total self if I let it out.

Can I trust what will happen with this fresh skin?

The tears finding their way across my cheekbones and eventually to my chest also serve as streams of joy. Celebration that this shade no longer feels true. Nothing to guard, nothing to protect from, nothing to withhold.

When the foundation of a structure is sound, there’s no threat in letting air through.

In the backseat of the Toyota Highlander, I run my hands over my body. My heart, my eyes, my legs, my ears.

Again: hindsight is only known after the fact.

On the edge of the cliff of both myself and seemingly the world, I wonder: Where did the shield go?

It no longer feels crazy to not find it there.

It feels good.

Well, actually, more than good…right.

Words can’t describe it. More like the Alisios passing through the sea air.

Free, open, messy, swirling, whirling…here.

I hadn’t known that I had been undergoing yet another slow software update this whole time.

Some of my dearest amigos singing to the music in the front seats, bickering, laughing, existing in silence.

My friend lays her hand on mine.

One of the greatest myths the ego will ever tell us: we’re not worthy of being witnessed while we’re in flight.

But the truth is, we never really land.

Might as well fly together.

…it is damn sure more fun that way.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• This song ! !! Summer anthem energy

• snippets from the alien land:

• How Should a Person Be? by Sheila Heti — I won’t shut up about her writing style; it’s yum yum yum for the brain; inventive, unique, cynical, soft…frickin weird…we all know i <3 weirdos

  • If you read Pure Colour you will love this :)

• For so long, I struggled to get in a groove of finding new Substack writers to read, and these days I feel like I can’t get enough…here are some:

  The Ordinary Mind

  Beliefs

  With all respect Keep your beliefs to yourself And meet me in the space Between my love and your love. For what is love if not uncertainty– Fascination with Facets of you that I can Never see. Is there anything more tired Than a rendezvous mired In the mud of absolutes we both are Sure of? Please …

  Read more

  a year ago · 53 likes · 27 comments · Jed Moffitt
  all the little flowers

  Joy is not meant to be a crumb

  Today felt like a true spring day…

  Read more

  a year ago · 7 likes · 10 comments · Joscelyne Mei

Perhaps Yesterday

Exile - 06

I Will I be a distant memory someday, or will I remain forever a recurrence in your dreams? I thought about our twoness once more when I got back and the more I thought about it the more outraged I got, the angrier at the universe for dividing us into this nonsensical dichotomy of belief and non-belief…

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a year ago · 29 likes · 31 comments · Mahdi Meshkatee

• Annnnd that is all for now. May we be seen! Together! Besitos.

1

trade wind tings

They say it takes a village.

Where does the village reside? Somewhere between our own heart and those that mirror it.

My own heart feels like it’s going to spill out into the lake that sits before me.

I always say that I sleep best in a house full of people. Last night was one of those nights. I cherish them with my whole being.

Makes sense right? Our evolutionary selves absolutely loving feeling the protected nature around us. The deep ability to simply rest. Our village holds us should the unexpected arise.

I don’t want to wake up because I don’t want the feeling to leave me.

Yet, I open my eyes, and here the village still remains.

I am writing this from the top floor deck while my entire family is on ground level, dancing (quite literally) with this feeling by the lake. The sound of bean bags slamming a wooden board, my brothers and dad laughing, our neighbors singing, boats whirring, birds the glue between all of the disparate melodies.

Baile baile baile.

The village is right here.

Ponle música pa que esto no pare…

It’s funny because only 3 people in a house of 25 are actually blood related.

What is family?

While I am a wee child of this life, I know with almost 100% certainty that it goes beyond blood.

It’s defined in the moments of silence preparing dinner, everyone without a word assuming their role in the kitchen. Some chopping, some pressing pastelillos, some playing DJ, some saying, “get the hell out of my way.”

But never, ever, “you don’t have a space here.”

It’s held in the ridiculously stupid belly aching jokes, the morning coffee with half-open eyes, the smell of the grill, the massage of your shoulders, the pranks made bordering genius.

It’s especially in the shit talking. At the domino table, at the fire, in the car, in line for ice cream, on the lake.

In the open.

If you haven’t been shit talked on nor invited to do so…I regret to inform you…you should be worried.

A language of love.

Because if you really listen, the words are rooted in the purest, sincerest, most honest care.

Never a desire to cancel.

Only an invitation to guide you back to your truth.

You better not forget it.

Family is a feeling.

It’s sitting at a Thanksgiving table, where almost every continent (no Antartica…yet), sexual orientation, gender, socio-economic class, education level is represented.

And absolutely everyone has an opinion.

But love absolutely remains present.

In fact, it grows stronger.

Can you feel my tears rolling down the edges of my heart?

Family is a belonging, a resonance, a whirling of ideas, gifts, strengths, weaknesses, laughter. A portal back to self through the eyes of each other.

A place where there is 0 doubt where your role lies.

Because your village will always show you.

Somos familia.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• This song…mmmmm….

• Well, this whole playlist tbh:

• This series by …it’s 10 parts and here writing is absolutely delicious. Like when you find something that just absorbs you…the final piece specifically was *chef’s kiss*…disfruta

rest in the muse

i just wanna set the sky on fire

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a year ago · 13 likes · 4 comments · nadia g

• Bagels….they’re not lying when they say there’s something in the east coast water…I really did miss this.

• The Call Her Alex mini series

  • She is such an incredible storyteller + story extractor from others

  • She also grew up in a neighborhood right next to mine, so it hit a certain nerve

• Launched this baby, HUMAN AF…it’s an ecosystem for humans to be more human..especially in an automated world…our first piece here:

  HUMAN AF

  Who are you?

  Who are you? Try as it might, it’s the one question that AI can’t truly answer…

  Read more

  a year ago · 6 likes · 1 comment · HUMAN AF

• Family business:

If you’re reading this, know you’re always a part of the fam too.

Besitos. <3

I don’t know what I am searching for,

But I never find it when I am looking.

Ever.

And even when we do know what we’re looking for, if we put it under a microscope, we can’t see it even if it’s right in front of our face1.

I’m not that into astrology, but this year is the year of the snake….think: shedding. coiling. sensing.

If you’re thinking damn, yeah…I promise you, we’re all saying it. Lol.

My younger brother had a snake2 when we were younger, and every time it would shed its skin I would always wonder how it felt. Don’t you feel raw in the world bb?

Yet Lizard (lol, the snake’s name3) would continue doin’ his thing. Seemingly with the same energy as before.

Shedding. Even the word makes me squirm a bit. Not enough to feel like it’s painful but this essence of discomfort.

Not too long ago before moving back to the States, I woke up one day and had this major desire to get acupuncture. I had literally never done it before, but it was something in me like: acupuncture4. NOW. Today.

And so I went.

I have been dealing with this annoying skin issue on my hands for essentially my whole life and had gone to dermatologists, naturopaths, etc and nothing really worked. Annoying, yes. But nothing that was restricting any basic activity. (God thank you)

She clocked it immediately. “You have a blockage in your lung meridian. Air keeps things moving through your body. And when it’s blocked from flowing even the smallest thing can get stuck, especially in topical areas like the skin.”

“What emotion is this linked to?”

“Grief.”

……

Same feeling as hearing the word shedding. Although on a pendulum of pain, definitely swinging on the felt side.

“But I’m not grieving anything?”

To which I was met with a soft smile.

One that said: mi amor, we both know that the body speaks louder than words.

To this, I ask you…what is your body saying right now?

Gently whispering for you to hear, but in your quest for answers you have dismissed….

For real.

Close your eyes for just a sec. Deep breath in and out.

Where lights up most?

We tend to be “so” surprised by what we find, yet simultaneously unfazed because we know it’s always been there.

I think where we fumble is having shame for not seeing it. Shame-ception of sorts.

Shame for being finally able to see shame. Grieving the time we spent ignoring our grief.

But how can we look for something we’ve never fully seen?

So caught up on the minutiae of our day-to-day that yes we’ve gotten glimpses of what’s below the surface but never gotten quite acquainted with the depth of it’s identity.

It’s like a neighbor a few doors down. You see them on the street some days as you walk your dog. Maybe chance places you in the same subway car here and there. But not until you’re both caught at the foot of the platform when a rainstorm unfolds and share a single umbrella on the walk home, you really don’t know the fullness of what’s there.

You invite them over for dinner that weekend. Realize you were meant to be friends.

Not then, but now.

The experiences that you collected over the course of you being neighbors-not-friends are the right amount of aged to be the perfect ingredients for a fine feast of connection5.

What we’re looking for is rarely hiding from us.

It’s protecting us from seeing too much before we’re ready.

Granting us vision when we can truly be held in its beauty.

May we continue shedding,

shedding,

shedding,

what we don’t need until then.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites

• Currently obsessed with Love on the Spectrum; IDK how I haven’t watched this before but the purity, honesty, and integrity is just … wow

• Fixation song of the week

• Field notes

• An audio visualization by yours truly for CLO-CIRCLE - June’s theme: nature; I’ll be regularly contributing (and recently got a better mic, lol) so subscribe

  • They also have a really lovely virtual, global philosophy circle each month around a dedicated monthly theme <3

• Loving Sublime — here is my public library

  • Can finally put all of my city guides in one place!

  • Also expanding surface area for digital synchronicity…

    

• I shared photos of myself with my pops for father’s day from childhood and now I want to start a photo book of everyone I know as their lil baby selves. Genuinely if you see this please send me your baby photo as well as whatever comes to mind to share from their shoes. I’ll go first:

  

  Besitos <3

I was today years old when I realized the wisdom of dogs. Hello? Who was going to give me the microchip that they really are a (wo)man’s best friend?

A bestie of mine always says that God1 hit a record scratch when he made me…Amber not vibing with animals simply doesn’t fit into the full picture of my being.

The thing is the not-vibing was a choice only on my end, as animals have always naturally gravitated towards me (Snow White lookin’) but I have tended to shy them away. To indicate with my body: please don’t come any closer…

More precisely: I don’t know what to do with you.

Strange because I know exactly how to entertain a wandering toddler in the park, give some much needed attention to an under-validated oldest sibling, shine some curiosity on a lonely grandpa.

But when it comes to receiving unconditional love….

It feels like I got a software update. Not from anything external, but completely from within.

It’s wild to watch what unfolds when we treat ourselves with exquisite attention, care, dare I say….love.

When we listen to the inner crevices of our being, as uncomfortable as it might be to hear their (our) needs. Our demands. Our desires. Our cravings.2

Please…see me…..please…

Yah know what. Sure. What’s up boo?

Why is our learned tendency to say no?

Our needs do no communicate with us through words yet we try to speak (read: yell) back in order for them to shut the f*ck up.

But it’s like a dolphin trying to speak to a whale. French to a native Spanish-speaker. Yeah, they might share the thread of Romance language and pick up on a few bits, but it’s the space between words that keeps the communication afloat.

When we dance with the nuance of our own being, get so intimately comfortable with what it has to say, there’s a quiet that washes over us.

This preference for non-preference. A feeling of freedom that only comes from a devotion to not looking away.

Complete satiation from the truth.

So little to be said as we walk down the street. Our eyes magnetic signals of safe space. The ease in which we simply take a seat welcoming someone else to fill the empty one beside us.

Delicioso.

I feel like a born-again-being as I wade into this infinite well of potential. What can happen from this place?

From seeing myself so clearly, I often feel my *self* sort of drift, drift, drifting into this sea of us.

A complete wonder of the world, humans, architecture, media, earth, tech, children, water, wind, fire, fricking dogs around me.

Floating in the space where words don’t need to exist.

“We fill up the space as it were a pie shell, with things whose opacity further obstructs our ability to see what is already there.3”

Suddenly it makes sense.

More uncomfortable to say please go away than it is to say you always have a place here.

You.

…as in:

you,

me,

we,

us.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• Como se dice sweet slow sweaty glow summer…

• I say it every year: Frightnrs are so June

• Can I Come In? by Sarahbahbah — the whole thing is genius; raw, honest, sexy, fun, blunt….my branding brain is forecasting that this is the future of media collabs/direction of independent artists becoming the new “influencer”…those without provenance are going to fall behind in favor of inspiration + education > “influencing”

  • Strong example of how true, non-incentive, purely devotion-led art can coexist with financial return…currencies!!!

• I have been deep in the devotion portal with a project that is making my heart oh-so-happy and soon will share more about the journey of (in addition to it properly ~entering the universe~!)…

• Perrito honey for the heart… (my friends’ beautiful puppy chulo angel)

  

• Not many words lately… just happy to be here…

  

  Besitos. <3

2

When I am experiencing a “blank canvas” moment in life, I often ask for a sign. A signal. A lil smirk down from above that says, “baby I gotchu,” a smile back being like “yes, chef.”

Sabes?

It doesn’t mean that thing is like an exact and literal answer but instead it’s just a sign of: yes, keep trusting. This weirdly-synchronistic-but-also-entirely-duh thing just happened, keep going.

A sign of life.

It was Monday afternoon and I had a gap in IRL meetings, so I went to work from Public Hotel. When I settled in, I saw a guy that looked so familiar but for the life of me, I couldn’t place him. Then I realized he looked uncannily similar to an Austrian musician I had met in a(nother) hotel lobby in Paris.

It would make 0 sense for it to be him.

When synchronicities like this happen, I literally cannot help myself.

That said I was a bit nervous to go up to him as I would have had to cut through a bunch of people to actually do it.

I check his IG story for any indicator of NYC. No geographic identifiers. F*ck it.

I walk up – and the second I move forward, he says, “I knew it was you! The eyebrows!”

Lol. Hello neighbor.

He too is about to walk downtown. A lovely Monday jaunt.

As if this wasn’t enough of an “I see you” moment, same thing happens on Tuesday. Again, another hotel lobby work sesh. “Is your name Amber?”

I look back so confused – “We met in Mexico!”

Her: *takes off glasses*

Me: “OMG! It’s you.”

Both: “Of course.”

The moments of being a neighbor in the past always welcoming us into the neighborhood of our future.

Why do we forget how wonderful it is to show up? To offer a hug with our eyes to a stressed mom carrying wailing twins on the subway? To give our seat that’s next to the only outlet once our computer is charged?

To embarrass ourselves as our hair gets stuck in our headphones as we’re taking them off? We’re gonna laugh so why not share it with someone else?

To smile? To dance on a street corner? To give a loving nod to someone who is?

I was talking with a friend and he shared that the hardest part of giving kindness is not the act itself but whether the offer will be received.

Will it land in open arms? Or will it be boomeranged right back – knocking us over with double the force?

There is simply no threat given that love is never wasted.

The sun offers its warmth without concern over who will take it in1. The rain falls without worry if the ground will catch it.

It nourishes us not because it can, not because it wants to, but because it simply is.

Love is, love was, love always will be.

I hope you allow yourself to lend some sugar today.

…shake it, shake it.

Lol.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• Mhm…salty hair, freckles blossoming on face, kinda buzzed, don’t want to (nor need to) leave the beach:

• If lost, please return to the sun

• Follow the fun .. !

• This ted talk, particularly the illusion of continuity

  • A dear friend shared this talk with me and woahhhh; yes, dives into the patience we can have with our past and future selves by being accepting of desires of our present being

• Aaaaand What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

  • Dream blunt rotation absolutely includes Murakami

Besitos!

I recently hopped on a Zoom call and the second I arrived in the meeting room this person said to me, “Where are you from?”

Without skipping a beat, I pointed upwards and said, “like as in stardust?” lmao wtf amber.

Mind you, this is a creative director whose work is pretty fricking iconic…

They crack up.

There was this lag time in my own laughter because I genuinely wasn’t trying to be funny. If there’s one thing about an Ambi it’s that I can’t help the silly.

In my (dearly loving and entirely not demeaning…maybe a little bit demeaning) father’s words, “Once Amber makes up her mind, she’s gonna do what she wants.” More accurately, I can’t help but be what I am.

We both catch our breaths. “I thought we met in Brazil.”

I go on to tell them the abridged version of my background…No Brazil. Many dots on the soul map, endless hearts who raised me. It takes a village. They agree.

We swap villages. Both the stories of our literal human webs who nurtured us and the esoteric worlds, webs, weavings we’ve created.

Our conversation alone a little ecosystem emerging in real time.

Why do we fight who, or more precisely, what we are?

Our essence the equivalent of a child pulling at their mother’s skirt. “Can I go play?”

Mis padres recently got a puppy (bb Reina videos below).

Amorcito just wants to explore…so do I….so do we….

At the beginning of 2024, without knowing that I was going through the Great Cleansing™️, I wrote a list of new year intentions.

I’m not one for the rah rah rah of losing 1,000 lbs by January 15th but for some reason that year my intentions did come with a great deal of desire to let go of dead weight.

So, as I normally do, I made the list, checked it twice, and shipped it to God. Nearly 25 days later, I found myself in Mexico looking for a lease with two suitcases worth of belongings and a spirit of trust.

Page = turned.

Like all of my seasons, I could’ve never seen this one coming but it made total sense the second the portal was entered. They1 say sometimes once we see something, we simply can’t unsee it.

What if once we feel something, we simply can’t unfeel it? The feeling tone encoded in our DNA.

New video game level unlocked.

As casual as changing lanes on the highway yet simultaneously profound as an earthquake rumbling the tires underneath.

After many years of doing the absolute f’ing most in romance, work, life, I stepped into the joy of monotony.

Sunlight kissing my neck daily, bumping into friends on Amsterdam taking over the logistics of my social life, saying naur to fast pace and yes to a slow heart2.

Byproducts of stepping into the page turn without hesitation…knowing the story, although uncertain, would be nothing short of juicy on the other side.

Juiciness I don’t even need to think about taking with me as I’ve now entered the next chapter because it’s hard coded within me..within you..within us.

When you honor the page turn, you know the signs of when it’s about to flip again. They won’t show themselves like a librarian licking her finger before she moves to the next leaf.

Instead it will be the slightest flutter of eyelashes, the gentlest change in speech, the faintest upwards turn of a smile about to paint the fullness of a face.

And boom. The smile washes over. The eyes twinkle.

Like that, the portal is both made and entered in the same moment.

You can’t look away. But more importantly you don’t need to.

We look everywhere for validation without remembering that our souls are forever begging us to gently lay loving eyes on ourselves.

It’s like when a friend is moving and they have a bunch of people over to give away their things…all this stuff that they accumulated, of course generously offering it to those they invited but also saying adios to the baggage they no longer need.

In an attempt to cleanse your own energy, you recently just happened to do a lil purge of your own.

Yet when you arrive, suddenly you *absolutely need* an incomplete set of neon orange vintage coffee cups, a thousand count cocktail umbrella set, a gel manicure lamp, and a Russian nesting doll.

Or so you think.

You get home and remember a) your entire home (and wardrobe) is comprised of earth tones, b) you rarely drink hard liquor, and c) you are entirely not ambidextrous enough to do your own gel mani3.

You set the nesting doll on the table. You start curiously unpacking the first layer. Enthusiastically studying the refined features beneath. Can’t help yourself but shed the next, the next, the next until you are left with the core, the seed, the essence.

And you remember this whole time you didn’t need more from outside to get to what’s within.

The layers symbolizing not things but opinions, inputs, judgements, two cents that you asked for and realized you didn’t need cause you’ve been rich this whole time.

You kindly say thank you, and gently let them go.

You close your eyes. Make a wish.

A wish of less more, more less.

Because you already have been.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• Yum yum yum!

• Speaking of pages turning, final CDMX moments <3

  

• The album that has convinced me that Alleh will be the next (or mirror to) Rauw; also the album of my BK Half training:

  • the first time I heard Capaz I was like damnnnn this is the real deal uniquely recognizable type beat .. love you Alleh

• Reina bb!!!

• Reads that made go :0000 Zamnn

  • space in between words energy

    Inarticulate

    Souls we were meant to find

    A month ago, my seven-year relationship ended. I still have a persistent cough from blowing out my vocal cords while crying. Cute, I know. Some people process heartbreak in silence. I prefer clumsily broadcasting mine to the Internet (I was raised by celebrity post-breakup Twitter wars, what can I say…

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    a year ago · 54 likes · 10 comments · Alina Peng
    Shradha’s Substack

    to be loved is to be seen

    love is not always earth-shattering. it does not arrive with poetic declarations and rehearsed lines from a love story told a thousand times before. sometimes, it is a quiet ember, slow and steady, warm in the spaces where the world feels cold. it is not just being adored; it is being known. it is the quiet knowing, the shared glance across a crowded ro…

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    2 years ago · 3459 likes · 50 comments · shradha

As always, if ya ~feel the pull~ let’s meet. Digital synchronicity is real, and I love meeting ppl who follow it too. <3

Besitos.

Sobbing on the plane watching A Complete Unknown. Everything is more emotional in the air. Or maybe it’s that the space is so utterly pure.

Or perhaps it’s not enough oxygen getting to my brain.

All of the above + more. If you know me, you know I love the air.

In the air, what is there to figure out? It’s like everything comes into perfect vision because it already has been.

When the bros say “heads down” that has been me since January. But I’d more accurately say it as head up to God/devotion/purpose/source.

It’s like the light is so bright that I can’t look away. Perfect. Like the light illuminating off of the clouds somewhere over likely Georgia. Uh huh hunny.

This trip is a part of what is blooming from the heads down (up) season. There’s a preciousness to the plant. A divinity, a sacredness to its sprout.

While yes I am spiritual, I am not the most dogmatic person. Not overly into astrology, any organized religion etc. Take what resonates and leave the rest type beat.

I ask for things, share an intention (more so in essence than in physicality) and then allow myself to receive. Or not.

When said thing comes to me I see it as a sign that it’s time. One of these “times” came from a tarot reader who has referred to me from a dearrrrr dear friend1.

In the reading, she shared this year would be mainly work, but not work as in huff-puff work, but work as in helllll yes thank you above for showing me why I am here. And damn, was she right.

It feels like my soul has been plugged into an outlet. But the outlet is source energy and I am a singular conduit amidst many other walking vehicles of divinity.

I cry tears of resonance as I watch A Complete Unknown because the beautifully complex, nuanced, devoted, even addicting journey of finding your purpose or rather remembering your purpose is oh-so-poignant.

Another dear friend of mine posted a video of her toddler self on IG stories this week and said her deepest work in life was remembering what made that little girl feel alive.

All other present day “adult” obstacles are cleared when this remembering takes place.

Mic. Drop.

I look back at my life and I see little doe eyes staring back at me. Those eyes are my own.

They say, yeah babes. Crazy, right? It’s all always been here.

I recently learned that Benjamin Franklin2 devoted something like 4 hours of his day “putting things in their places.” Both physically and metaphorically he quite literally just allowed space for things to settle.

He didn’t need to necessarily control how these things landed but instead allowed a higher “order” of things to wash over him.

We need to try so little, huh? When our intentions are clear and we’re tuned into the radio signal of integrity, things simply unfold from that place.

It doesn’t mean we kick our feet up, gorge on pleasantries, sit back and do nothing. It means we align our actions to what integrity points to. We offer it joyously, honestly, and curiously.

And then we settle. No need to overproduce because we trust that when the answer is ready, yet again it will show itself.

The light wants to find us. All we have to do is our part…and be in its wisdom.

Other Bites:

• This songggggg ! ! !

• A Complete Unknown – truly loved this; because my parents had me when they were super young and I subsequently was then raised by a single father I grew up mainly on early 20s R&B/hiphop so this also almost was a classic rock music crash course; set design, wardrobe everything loved it

• #perspective

• Around tomorrow, April 29th? Slow Sessions w/ Index is happening at 9:30 AM EST tomorrow morning :) April’s theme is blossoming

• The eyesssssss. Portals…

• Beautiful blooms at home in Pennsylvania; deep juicy sea level breath in .. yum

  Feel the pull? Honestly let’s meet. I’m a huge believer that digital synchronicities exist just as richly as IRL. <3

  Kiss kiss.

  Ambi <3

I recently heard this saying, “high off our own supply,” and wtf I want what they’re having. Well, I guess, I want what I am having. And hope you enjoy what you are having, too.

We cheers our personal elixirs and ride off into a hazy, burnt sienna sunset.

Ever since I finished reading The Soul of Money, I feel like I am looking at the world through sufficiency glasses.

Mmmm, well. The glasses are available to me and sometimes I take them off because I am scared of having them on all the time. I think it’s less about seeing the world as enough and more fearful of seeing myself as so.

Sufficiency in this context describes a state of enoughness – enough creativity, curiosity, collaboration, etc. Abundance is typically a byproduct from that state.

SO if we are mirrors for the reality we hope to create, doesn’t seeing sufficiency in ourselves unlock that within the world around us?

An invitation for the world to unfold because we surrender to the heavens and say helllllurrrrrr I finally realize that you gave me what I needed all along.

I keep turning this idea over like a perfectly worn coin that feels good between your index finger and thumb in your pocket. I guess I keep turning myself over because that’s what it feels like to be alive lately.

(@sighswoon on ig) in one of her stories compared accumulating more years on earth to the feeling of your favorite t-shirt that you lounge around the house in. It’s old af but each wash only increases its value.

As the rinse cycle of life topples us around, we too only increase in coziness and sense of inner worth.

We don’t need a new t-shirt because the one we have is more than enough. In it we are held.

And the more we let ourselves be, the more reality around us reflects that too.

I was chatting with , and she told me how she learned an incredible fact. She was almost shocked at the synchronicity of what she was about to say….”Otters have a pouch on their body where they store a stone, one that they carry for comfort.”

The fricking security stone. Even otters know what’s up.

Perhaps these nuggets that we carry with us act as reminders. Reminders that retrospect only comes after the fact.

We rub the stone to be reminded of when we made the indent in the first place. “See, you made it this far.”

A reverse milepost – one that we didn’t know we were forming when we first showed up. Eyes wide open, maybe tears streaming out. They land on the rock, drop, drop, drop. Like a river slowly forming its way into a mountain.

Retrospect. The stream nor the boulder have it yet, though they will.

And they won’t even think about why. They simply just become.

Kiss kiss.

A VISUALIZATION TO TAKE YOU FROM “SHOULD”—> ~BEING

+ some should —> being prompts once you listen:

1. What “shoulds” have I been carrying lately — and where did they come from?(Are they mine? Or someone else’s expectations? What would it feel like to let even one go?)

2. If I replaced one “should” with a “could,” what might open up for me? (How does the energy shift? What becomes possible when I allow myself more choice?)

3. What does it feel like in my body when I’m just… being?

Other Bites:

• This song.. this SONG ! gosh. yeah.

  • It basically talks about being in the garden of eden and letting the sun guide the way… or at least that’s how it lands in an ambi heart.

• An ode to kefir – I fricking love it; random and slightly strange but instead of adding milk to scrambled eggs, I add a bit of kefir, mix mix mix and it’s sooo fluffy and creamy.

  • Paired with nopal and tomatoes scrambled…con tortillas…*chef’s kiss*

  • Discovered bc I didn’t have milk but wanted creamier eggs and yeah 200 iq

• A Return to Love – still reading, almost finished; totally awesome

  • 

• We finished the final week of Reframing Work (4 week course to re-establish relationship with your generative, fulfilling work in the world)…here are some creative mission statements from the first week…hosting another in late May/early June – waitlist here <3

  • 

• Pieces that made me like :0 recently:

  METROPOLIA

  I, Aquiescência

  I’m writing to you with the volume of a primal scream. Can you hear it? My heart begging and pleading to pound out of my chest? The words are racing along at the pace of a bass beat to a house track. (130 BPM.) I have something to tell you that I can’t bear to say without covering my eyes and gnashing my teeth. I’d much rather write it than say it. Or y…

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  a year ago · 18 likes · 10 comments · Anderson II
  Minnow, like the fish

  the unfolding of lilies

  Matthew 6:25-33 is a passage where Jesus talks about money and not worrying about how much you’d have in the future. He says basically, “Don’t worry about the future. Consider the birds and the lilies, see how God provides everything they need! And if God provides for them, won’t He provide for you…

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  2 years ago · 13 likes · Minnow Park

• Life recently:

• What’re you up to Tuesday, April 29th? Hosting another Slow Session w/ Index – slowing down with April’s theme of blooming

• Aaaaaand back to the life portal

  

• Always here to follow the pull, ie. have a #chat if you feel the call.

BESITOS!

It’s April 1st, and I’m sitting at Buna. My second favorite table. Mi primera favorita is taken. The man has kind eyes and I’m happy that he gets to use those eyes to look out on the street.

His stares little blessings to all who pass. These words a blessing on his soul. Dios te bendiga, querido.

I’m reading A Return to Love1, and it keeps mentioning the term selective remembering.

Selective remembering.

It feels like a salve to my own soul. Even the way it sounds. Yum.

Life has been cha-cha-cha changiiiiing in the best way lately. (Isn’t it always?)

And as I read this term, I realize that this is unconsciously what has been making so many miracles happen lately.

Selective remembering refers to the spiritual practice of consciously choosing to remember only love and truth while releasing fear, pain, and illusion. It is the idea that we can train our minds to focus on divine love and forgiveness rather than dwelling on past grievances, negativity, or limiting beliefs.

It reminds me almost of First Person Singular, a series of stories told in you guessed it: the first person by Murakami focusing on the moments that we could chalk up to insignificance but end up sticking with us. Their richness, their magic, their lessons.

With that, some selectively remembering de mí para ti:

A friend was at Parque Mexico painting with a friend, and these children came up to them in awe. My friend invited them to join in on the watercolors, and los niños quickly became lost in their creativity. The kids shared this was something they would never be able to do. In other words, they would never have the money to purchase something so non-essential such as paints. My friend and her pal gave the paints to the children. ~ Una ofrenda sagrada.

One of my best friends got engaged and eloped in the same week. I asked her now husband if I could send anything to the after celebration – flowers, a spread, dessert. He said just yourself. We’ll FaceTime you at the courthouse. ~ El regalo de la presencia.

I was running through Chapultepec early on Saturday morning – the day of the solar eclipse – and quite literally ran into a murmuration. This is basically a phenomenon where a large group of birds—typically starlings2—fly together in a coordinated, swirling, and fluid motion. I had never seen this happen so close to the ground. All of the early risers were stopped in their tracks. Reminded of the portal we are all in but didn’t have the words to explain. ~ La naturaleza siempre sabe.

My best friend heard that our other best friend’s sister was going through it – financially, emotionally, spiritually. He took our sister’s friend out on him, coordinated her kids were being watched, etc. ~ Nosotros nos necesitamos.

A little boy caresses his mom’s hair.

A dad beams as his kids scream of laughter on the back of a bicycle.

Friends spontaneously find one another in the park. Find delight in their chain-smoked cigarettes alongside their dreams, fairytales, and nightmares. Messiness is juiciest when shared.

A woman rubs her thumb on the inside of her lover’s palm.

The flower man smiles. His eyes shatter the walls to every heart he sees.

A dog rests its head in my lap.

I don’t shrink away.

Selectively remembering.

Oh how good it feels to love.

Juiciest when shared.

Kiss kiss.

Other Bites:

• Here is the murmuration…big portal energy…magic.

• Sunshine & Rain by Kali Uchis..no words…I guess some words:

  • “Through sunshine and rain, as seasons change
    We all need somebody that makes the Earth feel heavenly
    Maybe I'll be that somebody 'cause you're that someone to me
    Through sunshine and rain, as seasons change
    We all need somebody thats makes the Earth feel heavenly
    Maybe I'll be that somebody 'cause you're that someone to me”

  • Hellooooooo…

• Books that have rocked my world:

  • The Soul of Money

  • A Return of Love

  • On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

• This piece by mi hermana :

  IN AND OF ITSELF

  The Inclination to Live

  The spark of the piece you are about to read came to be after recording this podcast…

  Read more

  2 years ago · 5 likes · Allegra Preuss

• Good words

  • …..

    • Good vibes:

    • …..

      besos. <3