Friday, March 26, 2010

Short vacation

I’m off to Ethiopia to discover the land of Lalibela, famous for its 12th century, rock-hewn churches.

While I’m away, I invite you to travel through my blog and discover my older posts.

Some recommendations:

Tomas the graveyard keeper

Who are we fooling?

Keeping the act

A walk in the wild

In the name of God

See you next week!!



I'm back!!! you are more than welcome to look at some of my pics from the trip:


Religion & People

A bit of everything


Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Choice and Human Nature

Choices, choices and more choices, life is full of them…. getting married or divorced, changing houses or countries, starting a new job or leaving one, becoming a parent or staying childless. Forgiving someone or staying bitter, going after a dream or saying no to an opportunity. Starting a new healthy life style or becoming an addict. Keeping the same job forever, staying in an unhappy relationship, shouting at your neighbor, refusing to see your reflection in the mirror, etc, etc.

Everything we do or don’t imply a choice, by acting or not acting we are still making a choice. Every choice brings change and every change gives birth to something new in us. We are choosing all the time. Choices are made consciously or unconsciously, whatever the way, we still make a choice. We can’t avoid making a choice, the simple fact of not making one is still indeed a choice - because we are choosing not to choose… So there is no escape and none to point fingers at, whether we like it or not we are ultimately responsible for everything that happens to us. There is no choice about that - it simply is as simple as that!
Then, why are we so afraid of change? Why are we so stubborn on keeping safe? Why do we pretend nothing changes? Why we blame others for our own doings? Why do we act as if we don’t have a choice?

Such is our human nature!

When the time to face change arrives, we tend to get paralyzed and unresponsive. We have the feeling of standing at the border of the precipice, unsure of the end result. We don’t know if we are going to fall or not, if we are going to be strong enough or if we will be defeated.
Change is something we can’t control, it is happening whether we like it or not. The time for regrets or lamentations are over, there is nothing we can do to change what it is. There is nowhere to hide or run away to, what is happening is happening and that is it.
This is a critical moment, since our next step will determine the course of the change, if it will be a positive or a negative one, something to grow out of, or something to crash us down… It is all a matter of attitude, choice and action, the wheels of change are in motion and nothing can stop them.
Sitting still while hoping for a miracle will not sort things out or make them disappear, so probably the smartest thing to do, will be to embrace the change and make the most of it. Sounds crazy and poetic, but in reality this is the only way to go.

© 2010 Gabriela Abalo

Monday, March 22, 2010


It is Monday again!!
Monday here you are full of choices and power…
for me to decide what to do with you.
Here you are, please don’t go away so fast or too slow,
allow me to enjoy you.
Monday, I love Mondays and Tuesdays and Wednesdays,
but also I love Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays…
and there again Monday comes again.

Please don’t go away!


Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Why doesn’t she love me?

“Hi, I’m back!” she said looking at Annie’s face with relief. The lack of answer didn’t bother her at all, and without an invitation, she sat at the edge of the stone and then resumes the conversation.
“She kicked me out of the house again, this is the third time she’s done that” - she pauses and after taking a deep breath continues saying - “I don’t know what to do, I’m tired of fighting! I don’t know how long I will be able to stay strong…” the tone of her voice reveals the emotional distress she is going through.
A warm and tender breeze kisses her cheek and hair as if trying to ease her sorrows. The silence is only broken by the birds singing from a nearby cypress tree. Looking directly into Annie’s eyes, she asks - “Why does she hate me so much? Why can’t she love me the same way she loves my brothers? What did I do wrong?” - with anger she fights the tears trying to show up on her face, as crying is not permitted on a strong girl like her.
“Yesterday, despite the rain and the cold she locked me out of the house and probably got soundly asleep in a few minutes, with no concern for my well-being. I heard one of my brothers trying to plead with her, but then gave up as he was almost shown the way out too. After an hour of crying out and kicking the door with no results I headed to Tory’s house, she always offers me shelter. But you have to see her face, she can’t hide the compassion she feels for me….” - Her brown eyes can’t disguise the sadness apprehending her, which contradicts the hard expression of her face. Her eyes are the window to her soul while her face is a well learned masquerade to conceal her real feelings.
She is only fourteen but looks older than she really is, years of suffering and emotional abuses have made a dent in her. She is being considered a wild and aggressive child by her schoolmates and teachers, making it so difficult for her to have any friends. Loneliness is her only companion, but sometimes the aloneness becomes too heavy to abide, so she comes to see Annie and the others for companionship and conversation. They always listen and never charge or criticize her, but she misses some kind of advice or guidance from them, after all, they have lived longer and had more experience. She knows there is nothing she can do to halt their unbreakable silence, but she is consoled but the inner knowledge that they listen and care.
“Today, Tory told me that my mother can’t continue doing this to me, that she is breaking the law and that the authorities can take me away from her. She wants to report her, so my mother can start taking better care of me. I begged her not to do it, because I’m afraid I may be sent to an orphanage… You know, my mom keeps telling me she will do it and I believe her.” She pauses and takes a deep breath in, as if trying to grow bigger and stronger. She doesn’t want to start crying, if she does, then she may never be able to stop, so she keeps breathing deep until the urge to cry is fully controlled.
After a while she speaks again, “Tory felt sorry for me so she promised not to do it this time, but she will if my mother does it again. The problem is that I know I will be kicked out again; any mistake will be used by my mother as a pretext to fight me, she will not stop until I’m gone… She did the same to my older brother, she kicked him out of the house when he was just thirteen, and never allowed him to come back.
I have nowhere to go, if she kicks me out again I will have to sleep by the door, despite the weather conditions and the time I have to spend outside. That will be the only way to fight her back, she will have to take me in sooner or later, as she will not want the neighbors to tell my stepfather what she is doing to me…” she looks around and after a short silence she asks: “Annie, did your mother love you or was she like mine? Aren’t mothers supposed to care and tender for their children? Why doesn’t she love me? I really want to know…” – as expected she doesn’t get any answer, but that doesn’t bother her as she is feeling better. Being able to talk about her troubles really eases her sorrow.
She keeps looking at Annie’s face, as if searching for answers, then she says - “Ok, is getting late, I must start heading back to hell. Today my stepfather is getting back home, so my mother will pretend this never happened, instead she will complain about how much she had to do and how unhelpful and disobedient I am. After all, this is part of her master plan to get rid of me one day!” - Saying that, she slowly began to rise up from the stone that she was sitting on, she then bends so as to be able to reach Annie’s picture and kiss her goodbye. “Annie, do you think she will ever love me or care for me?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer, once again she breaths in deeply and slowly, filling herself with strength and willpower, the one she will need to face her mother’s rage. Then with determination she starts walking away from Annie’s grave and the ones around her, until she gets out of the cemetery.
Over twenty years have passed, and I still remember my afternoons at the local graveyard, the only place I used to feel at home. During that time I seriously contemplated the idea of joining my dead friends as an easy way to escape, but I guess my warrior spirit keep me from doing it.
I was told so many times and even read in many books that the people that harm us the most are the ones that teach us the most too. I believe that is true but sometimes it is still hard to digest, especially if the people who hurt you are your closest relatives.
From a physical level, I still feel the pain and the emotional abandonment, while the same question still bothers me sometimes: “Why doesn’t she love me?”
From a spiritual level I do appreciate the teachings that help me to become who I’m today, the challenge was rough but I had managed. Today I’m free and full of love, I have learnt to love myself just the way I am and to love the rest of the world the same way, just the way they are… including her!

© 2010 Gabriela Abalo

Wednesday, March 10, 2010


To feel life and to live life in its totality
and to live it with such passion and intensity
that each moment becomes a moment of eternity.

Sunrise - Rio de la Plata - Montevideo, Uruguay
5th March 2010

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Awful in between

Butterflies in my tummy, anxiety, apprehension

Concern for not knowing what to expect

A perfect happy world shacked by the unknown,

Priorities, realities, dreams and plans put on hold

A life on pause waiting for the answer…

Rage and hope fighting to reign,

Logic and uneasiness guessing the possible answer,

Ego and soul arguing on commonsense

Only knowledge will put at rest the discomfort, will end the test,

Will give the chance to take a step

Lost in that awful in between, of not knowing what is going to be…

A cry of anger that keep asking: Why me?

A content soul accepting what it could be

Lost in that awful in between,

From which only the answer can rescue me!

Lousy melodramatic thoughts, striking now and then

A persistent fight to silent them all

A deep and raspy howl for help

Then…. silence and acknowledgment

As I find contentment in that awful in-between

© 2010 Gabriela Abalo

I'm linking this old poem to Monday-Poetry-Potluck