Tag Archives: change


You cannot destroy me. 

I hold my own power. 

You may try. You may take away every thing I own.

But, you cannot destroy me. 

I hold my own power.

 The power to love & experience heartache. 

The power to fall & get back up again. 

The power to make my own choices. 

The power to love myself, no matter the options of others. 

You cannot destroy me. 

Let Peace Find Them

Let us change the world with our love. With our peace, forgiveness and hope⭐️

This Moment 

Today I feel at peace. With my past. With my future.

I am in love with the present moment. 

The sun. The wind. The trees and the birds. I am overwhelmed by the beauty all around me. 

I am grateful for everyone who has come and gone. You have all taught me beautiful lessons. 

I have learned to love and to let go. To give and receive. I’ve learned to be vulnerable. 

Some days fear and sadness comes washes over me like an enormous wave. But I’ve learned to appreciate the darkness. To accept it.  

To overcome my fear. To choose happiness. 

All I know for certain is in the present moment, I am filled with gratitude. 


If you see anything great in me I hope you see the freedom in my eyes. I hope it sets your soul on fire and makes you wild with passion. With desire. With hope. 

I hope it inspires you to let go. To live and love fully. I hope it teaches you that in true freedom there is no ownership. No judgment. No control. 

I hope it fills you with a childlike wonder. A new curiosity for the world around you. I hope you allow it to open your eyes to magic. To miracles. To beauty. 

I hope it makes you question everything you thought was real. I hope you see that freedom is a choice. A feeling. A statement. 

It may scare you, maybe make you shake with fear.  It might make you go mad to find that true freedom cannot by be tamed. Controlled. Taken.  

Still, I will give you all I’ve found to be real.

And I hope that you will let this freedom change you. 

I Ask

I ask my breath to teach me all the       things I’ve never known. To lead me through the darkness and show me where I’ve grown.

I ask my breath to calm me and fill me with pure love. To radiate peace and kindness and always rise above. 

I ask my breath to unveil the truth that’s cruelly hidden away. To always make the most of each and every day.

I ask my breath to bring me to a place I’ve always dreamed. To reveal to me that everything isn’t always as it seems. 

The Present Moment 

Last night at yoga class the new instructor said something so simple yet powerful. I can’t remember her words exactly but it was something like this..
Those poses you just did are gone forever. The rest of the class doesn’t exist. All that does exist is right now. 
We spend so much time thinking about the past, worrying about the future. What if we slowed down just a little. What if we appreciate  the people around us. Take in the beauty of the trees, the flowers, the rain. Soak up the energy. Smile at strangers. Feel the ground under our feet and taste our food. Follow our breath through our body. 
I am guilty of letting the present moment slip away. Not listening when others speak. Not appreciating the beauty that surrounds me. Worrying. Questioning. 
Letting negative self talk and doubt run my day. 
Today I make the choice to live in this moment. I will feel and love. I will smile and show appreciation. I will love myself as much as I love others. I will give and share. I will be vulnerable. 
I will love this day. 

A New Year (Reflections Part 1)

A new year.

An ending and a beginning.

This should mean more to me than it does I suppose. I guess it’s a reason, an excuse, to start over, to try harder. To reflect. To let go.

I’ve always thought it odd how we measure our lives in years. We look back and say “that was a bad year” or “what a great year it’s been.” How would our lives change if we measured in days. If every day we woke up and decided to try harder, to set new goals, to reflect. To let go. To be present.

Instead of waking up a year from now and wondering what could have been done differently, we can set our intentions in the morning and meditate at night. We can live fully in the moment.

This is something I’ve been working on a lot recently.

Falling in love with the present moment. Taking the time to breath in the beauty that surrounds me. The trees, the moon, the rivers and the rocks. Feeling the wind and rain, the sun on my skin.

Letting go of trying to be who people think I should be and embracing who I am. Accepting that I am different. Letting go of fear and doubt.

To see people not for who I want them to be but to love them as they are. Closing my eyes and feeling their energy. Feeling the connection.

These simple yet powerful actions can bring me to tears. I’m often overcome with love and gratitude so intense all I want to do is lay down, close my eyes and soak it up. Its an amazing feeling of being right where I should be.

Knowing that it’s all so perfect.


Beautiful Mess

I spent a lot of my life changing for other people. Trying to fit into their boxes. Trying to be what society sees as normal.

The past couple years I’ve learned to accept the beautiful mess that I am.

I love who I am and who I am becoming.

Sometimes I am completely overwhelmed by the beauty in this world and I cry. I get lonely. I change my mind daily. I want to be free of everything that ties me down. I love to laugh at 3am. I refuse to limit myself to one or two passions or to loving only select people. I still believe in magic. I will never take life too seriously. Under hobbies I will list “everything.” I crave a love I will probably never find. I give too much. My life is not in order. I want to be understood by someone.

People often think I am irresponsible and label me as “edgy.”

I am responsible with others. I love deep and forgive always. I show kindness and compassion.

I don’t want to be what they think I should be. I don’t need their approval anymore. I have to have faith that there are people who will be attracted to my mess. People who will understand. Who will see the beauty in the chaos.



Today I Will

Smile and remember that today is a beautiful gift. I will send love and good energy to everyone I encounter.

I will be kind, loving, patient and offer forgiveness freely to myself and others when needed.

I will show gratitude for everything that enters my life. I will see it all as a beautiful blessing and an opportunity to grow.

I will give my help to anyone who needs it without expecting something in return.

I will laugh and play and enjoy this beautiful day.

Is this American Studies, too

I’m sorry this is not ethnic studies

I apologize for speaking Latino,

I forgot it was perhaps a little too foreign

For the mainstream palette, I’m sorry

For not remaining invisible, for

dreaming of houses in colors

to bright or exotic for your eyes

I’m sorry for forgetting

That my life, my people, my gente

My image, my walk, my food

My favorite smells, my history,

My yearnings aren’t the

Typical fare offered on

the menu of your usual

Curriculum, Lo siento

That you didn’t expect to

Walk around the corner

And find me, find us here

Walk in to this room,

And find that the farm hands

Had made it into the classroom

to open your mind to

new chapters in America

old chapters, really

turning yellow and leathery

under the long, beating sun

I’m sorry that you didn’t expect to

walk into the bookstore to buy

your books for American Studies

and find out that Americans

Came in brown, too

That along the long haul

of history, they’ve been muting

talk of Mexican speak

of Latino yearning, of

dreaming and desiring

to be a part of the American

story, part of the American

landscape outside the fields,

outside kitchen and lawns,

and hotels, beyond toilet cleaning-

We are tired of this crap, of this trap

That sees us as a sub-category, different

areas of study, as if putting us in ghettos

and barrios wasn’t enough, you want to

ghetto-eyes us in a particular branch of study

ghettoize the study of ethnicity

I’m sorry your eyes start to roll, like,

“Oh my god, this is not Ethnic Studies,”

I’m sorry your eyes can only see Americans

In black and white, I’m sorry your mind has

Not been able to afford-or perhaps hasn’t heard of

Color TVs, of 3D, that there are more colors

Than your mind can handle, that we aren’t

So turned on by sleek cars, Victoria Secret

Pimple-reducing crèmes and red meat

Charbroiled and grilled and smothered

With cheese, generic, processed, American

Cheese, without any chilies, hot peppers,

Cilantro, aguacates, tongue, or tripe,

What is it lie for everything to always be

So cheesy, so dead, so devoid of spice,

So sanitized, so prim, so proper

Do you really only want to see America/

American as red, white and blue

Doesn’t it make you blue, or see red?

To see so much white, and only the things

That remind you of you, to not see me,

and I quote you, here

to not “see color,” to be color blind

to which I respond, I know exactly what you mean

I don’t see gender, I don’t see queer,

You see, seeing color ain’t such a bad thing

It can be a beautiful thing

Cause take a good, long, look, I’m brown, and I think,

It’s hella beautiful and cool, too

Do you need a new mirror?

Do you need to dis-guise yourself?

If we are going to study America,

Can you please tell me what counts

as American and what doesn’t, because

I’m sorry, I’ve been dreaming, thinking,

Speaking, traveling and imagining in America

As a brown man, as a Latino, as a Mexican,

as an American, as an American Mexican,

in Spanish and in English, in Spanglish

since I was born, I’ve been hearing,

and grooving and chanqulando, to

Vicente Fernandez and Elvis Presley

El ultimo beso in My blue-suede shoes

Frank Sinatra and Pedro Infante

Let’s Fall in Love, Amorcito Corazon (my heart’s love)

Madonna and Selena

Justify my Love, Amor prohibido (Prohibited Love)

Shakira and Lada Gaga

Hips don’t lie, Poker Face

Santana and the Beatles

Maria, Maria is my Michelle

the Shins and Enanitos Verdes

New Slang, Por el Resto de to Vida (for the rest of your life)

Pit Bull and Tupac,

I know you want me, Until the end of time

Johnny Cash may have walked the line

But we have been living it for centuries

A beautiful dazzling existential dance of

Ni de aqui, ni de alla, not from here or there

Pero por todos lados hay venimos,

Siempre hemos estado. Here we come,

We have always been here.

Was/am/will be.

Que sera, sera.

Que onda? Post Modern,

Polylingual, polyglot mariachis

New wave banditos for justice, for peace

Cranking out corridos for millennia

Corridos and classic rock and rapeando

Somos mas Americanos, American Woman

All my life, Mexicano and American

Like two sides of a coin, flipping,

Flipping, both sides streaming in the air

I’ve been dreaming of beauty in all colors

Selma Hayek, Halle Berry, Kumiko Kunishi, January Jones, Moon Bloodgood,

I’m sorry I’ve fallen in love with your daughters, your sisters, and your mothers

That my look seems too ethnic, indio or dark for your pre-filled family portraitures

I’m sorry that you didn’t realize all this time I’ve been paying my taxes in dollars, not pesos

I’m sorry that I don’t sign off with XO, XO but with abrazos and bezos

I’m sorry that you didn’t realize that your country was mine too, our country,

I’m sorry if inside that saintly whit church steeple there isn’t a peephole

Big enough for you to see the amazing kaleidoscope of colors that stream

Across sky, across generations, across classes and masses, across these streets

In so many beautiful ways, so many difficult ways, so many hard to deal with ways

I’m sorry if it’s complicated, I’m sorry that you don’t get it, I’m sorry that

I’m not really sorry, that I love it, that I hope it gets uncomfortable and unbearable

So that lightness in being becomes coupled with the heaviness that’s been weighing

Us down, the weight that’s been strapped to our backs, that’s made for struggle,

That beautiful struggle for freedom, for fairness, for justice, for our brothers and sisters,

So that you can help take a load off Annie, cause we’ve been carrying this separation

Between communities, colors, families, and country for too long

Cause this is our America to study, our American studies, our American family

If you could just stop pretending that we don’t belong long enough to listen you may hear

That we may be speaking many tongues be we are speaking with the same tongues,

Stories that we all know and love, stories that embrace us, stories that tell our dreams

And the best and worst secretos, American stories wrapped in tortillas, tamales, nan, pita, calzones

Whatever you call Ethiopian sponge bread, & yes, even straight up white bread, too.

And, when we’re done we can have some pan dulce, Mexican sweet bread,

With a little bit of café and chocolate, and maybe we can start seeing our different selves

As more American than ever, as American as we want to be, to see America through

Each others eyes, to see America far enough to know the stretch its continents

Begins with you not being so impertinent as to define what’s apropos for this course

and it’s content, to try and make the American market solely on of your own making?

This is not a consumer’s survey, a consumer’s paradise.

We are not here to shop, to go for an exotic excursion.

I am not here to be exotic, to help you get your diversity on.

But I am here to ask, Are you so into yourself, you can’t get outside yourself?

Are you so blind you can’t see that there are so many others that area part of this American body,

This American polity, this American dream, as if there were only one American dream.

Is it not possible that there are many ways of dreaming this American dream?

Of speaking American? Of being American? Or is it that what’s bugging and offending you

The fact that you’re being asked to imagine American differently?

That American might not mean what you’ve always thought it means.

That you don’t even want to be asked that?

Does asking you to consider what America means to us

seem to go so far as to ask you feel like America is changing?

Like you just want your America back? Does it hurt your brain to think that

American was never the way it was? Or, to paraphrase a writer on the American family,

The way we never were. That the American dream is just that, a dream.

That every day we wake up to find out America outside of our reach,

Somewhere in our past, somewhere in our future, somewhere out on the road,

Somewhere between two destinations of airport gates, somewhere on an American sitcom,

Or a photography exhibit, a history class. But not here. Not right now.

And, not in what we are currently studying. Because perhaps what it means to be

American, how we have gone about making ourselves American, is by defining it in terms of

everything it is not. By defining it and sensing it in terms of who is not American, or a part of

the American experience.

And yet, we must ask if we are here to talk “American” why are we speaking Latino?

Perhaps because we’re tired hearing in the midst of talking about our American experience,

That there’s something essentially different from American values.

That it can’t be a variation on the dream, of our ambitions, of our desires, our plans.

As if somehow we’ve grown up and come of age here and we’ve escaped an American stamp

Or essence to our being, As if you could pick us, drop us off in Mexico, Paris, Germany,

Saudi Arabia, or Spain and they wouldn’t notice our American-ness

Rolling of our tongues, wrapped in dreams and scar tissue of our heart

My fellow Americans may generations ago

Your families came to America and my forefathers and foremothers

Welcomed you with generosity

We shared our land, our resources and our knowledge

Now it is time for you to return the kindness

It is time to recognize that we are a part of the same family

I am just wondering if we’re a part of the family nobody wants to claim

If you’re the uppity cousins who think you’re too good for the rest of us

America, I am just wondering if I could call you my own, f you would call me yours

If we could just call it even,

America, I just called to say, I love you

Because it’s been more than 500 years

And you’re all that I know.


-Robert Munoz