I loved watching TV when I was a kid, almost as much as I loved diving into my fantasy world. Sometimes, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on my dolls for their next dialogues and adventures. Whenever I write, I visit that place. Whenever I’m invited to play, even if it is just for a moment, I get transported there. That was the magic of teaching children for me. We played, and I had to oscillate between keeping the peace and being the guardian of the rules. Not as difficult at you might think. When I was in a classroom, my height helped. However, when I became a high school teacher. I went back to being short. It’s all relative, you know?

Teaching is a very safe place for me, I need it as much as my students need it. And I love that. (I’m glad you can’t see me as I write this. There’s blubbering.) Teaching is a love language and a huge responsibility. Sometimes we have the opportunity to make up for other teachers’ shortcomings, and I pray that other teachers are able to do the same for mine. I’ve been thinking a lot about this recently because a student talked about feeling safe. That made me think about all the mistakes I have made. I hate them. Mostly because I hope they didn’t affect my students. Teaching is an awesome responsibility.

Learning is not always easy. We have to face hurdles sometimes.

Hurdles like explaining that water, although considered tasteless and odorless, is not all the same.

But wait. Isn’t it two hydrogens and one oxygen? I mean, that’s it, chemically speaking.

It’s true, but there is more truth than meets the eye.

So I’ll tell you a story

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You could have

Right off the bat, you know that this is going to be aggressive. You could have…

This is how you are alerted that someone is about to throw something in your face. Not a cake, mind you. Although you might wish it were a cake, it would probably hurt less and you could lick some sweet frosting or whipped cream off your face. I would. I might wish someone would throw a cake in my face. Yellow cake with sweet whipped cream. As metabolisms change, you make nutritional decisions that make sense for a healthy body but not for cravings. You realize the only way you get a taste of sheet cake is if someone slams it in your face. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I imagine that is why the older you get, the more irreverent you get.

We love to give advice. Hell, I wish I could have a radio show people would call into to tell me their problems, rant, and disclose secrets. That would be fun. I love flying off the handle. This is one of the ideas I have for an upcoming radio project with my friend Dr. Gabrielle. I’m psyched and kind of scared. The best feelings to have when you are about to start a project. Did I mention that it will be in Spanish? Will you like me in Spanish too? These are a few things that cross my mind. What kind of advice would you give me? I know what I would tell my students. I just could do with someone telling me those things in a determinedly convincing way, right now.

To express advice, you could use the phrase: If I were you, I would…

This might be better than using the imperative: do this, do that. Cinderelli.

For instance, if I were you, I would create a media strategy to rouse listeners for your radio show.

Something is enheartening about the phrase if I were you. It is the element of empathy. It is undeniably there, in the the subjunctive were bridging I and you. You recognize that what you are expressing is a hypothetical and that you have gone through the steps of using your imagination to be the other and to disclose what you would do for yourself. If I were you says they have imagined putting themselves in your shoes. You gotta appreciate that. Continue reading

Charlie Brown would commonly exclaim, Good grief from being surprised, not necessarily in a good way. More of a way to express dismay, maybe being let down. Being let down is a good way to start to think about grief in general. We feel grief when we lose something or someone. That feeling seems to take the place of that person. I emphasize the word seems because people cannot be replaced. Ever.

When I heard Pope Francis passed this morning, I started to grieve. I didn’t expect to, only because I didn’t know how important he was to me, to know he was in the world. When people do good things in the world, they don’t have to say anything. Their actions speak louder than words. That said, it is good to recognize the good people do. Who knows, it might start a movement.

I remember when he became pope. This was the first time I was excited about a person at the Vatican. I was aware of what it meant for our region, Latin America, and our shared cultures, to have a leader in the Vatican. From an International Relations perspective, this was big. A Jesuit voice from the third world in this institution. Then other things kept coming, he was eager to use his position to express progressive ideas (progressive for the Church) on the role of women in the church, the lgbtq+ community, the mother’s and family’s of the disappeared, migrants, to sum it up, the teachings of the Church applied to real life issues. I was baptised a Catholic and this was the first time I looked toward the institution with a feeling of hope and possibility of seeing someone apply the tenets of Christianity. I won’t reflect on the inner workings of institutions. Not today. I’ll be grateful for a person’s life who meditated on and spoke out about issues of social justice and acted from a place of love, because he believed in a God who has love for all, in a Chuch that welcomes all. A man in one of the highest positions of power in his milieu. That moves me. His messages moved me several times. He reminded me there is a possibility for change when I felt most at a loss. We know how important it is to say things out loud to make them visible. He did. That’s two things that come to mind when I think of him. Continue reading

Hello, Welcome. I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Musing Interruptus is a podcast for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases. You can read along; just click on continue reading in the description to open a Google Doc with the transcription of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, subscribe, follow, and share, but more importantly, continue the conversation. Drop a comment with your answers to today’s questions! I love hearing from you! The background music is called Within Garden Walls by Blue Dot.

The mix and master were done by Chuy/Jesús Darío, my sound charolastra

What would the world be without music?

Just noise.

In the beginning, it was dark, and quiet was interrupted by clamors and clutters, knocks, knuckle raps, the rhythmic sounds of intercourse, yips and yelps, cries, collapses, wind rustling through trees, firecrackling, the sounds of destruction and creation, the roar of the waves, and the fury of the rain. From gentle and inviting to mind-numbing and deafening.

It was dark, even when light shone through, beckoning us to organize, repeat at certain intervals, and communicate. Percussions that traveled from our mother’s hearts through umbilical cords and cells and atoms. The beats that would mark humanity's artistic expression of sound. The hearts that set the beats to one of humanity’s greatest developments. Music.

It was how the leaf and bamboo reeds became flutes, hunting bows, lyres of Ur, and eventually guitars. Eventually, happened over and through North and East Africa, Mesopotamia, and the Mediterranean, the Greek, Roman, and Spanish empires via the Moors. Too much to mention in a few lines… Too important not to notice.

From the randomness and chaos of earthly existence to the systematization of sounds to a beat, humanity arrived at symphonies, a collectivity communicating our history and experience. Strings and winds and percussions and brasses that have accompanied our existence. Crippling solitude is an illusion via the realization that it is not unique. Oh, it is shared across grids and ranges. Music surrounds our senses, not just the auditory. That is only part of it. It is the vibrations that emanate from the earth through our limbs, the intention and intensities, the command of interpretation. What of the lyrics? If any? Words that accompany and explain our existence by regaling victories and failures, articulating feelings, all the feelings, basic and complex. All our thoughts. Weaving in and out of fiction, immortalizing, making that which is internal visible and known.

Pendular movements are traced in the evolution of musical expressions. You must learn the classics to appreciate the contemporary. To hear the resistance and how musicians push back, push forward, creating genres. None isolated. All embryonic creations paying tribute to the mother’s heart.

Hello, Welcome. I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Musing Interruptus is a podcast for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases. You can read along; just click on continue reading in the description to open a Google Doc with the transcription of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, subscribe, follow, and share, but more importantly, continue the conversation. Drop a comment with your answers to today’s questions! I love hearing from you! The background music is called Floating Whist by Blue Dot.

The mix and master were done by Chuy/Jesús Darío, my sound charolastra

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Why does anybody cross the road? Why not stay on this side? Things can’t be that bad if others are trying to cross to where you are. Stay. Let them visit and tell you the stories of what is on the other side. Besides, you are safe from foxes here. You don’t want to become a box lunch for those rabid critters. These are the things our clucky friend would hear in the chicken coop every time they brought up their wonder.

The chicken, who is in fact brave and curious, could not let the false and unfounded responses dictate their destiny. They could hear the other chicken’s lack of awareness and fear. This chicken must. The other side of the road was waiting and oh what a delight to satisfy their curiosity by crossing that dusty road. There must be more than the coop.

Truly, if you had been there, watching this descendent of the red jungle fowls, you might ask, why not travel up and down that road? Also, have you tried going up, as you have wings. The answer is not complicated.

As Mr. XS sings in the song “Never Tear Us Apart”, we all have wings but some of us don’t know why. I think Mr. XS was talking specifically about our friend the chicken.-

Domesticated. Exploited. Made to believe they had nothing more to offer than the promise of eggs laid. The chicken didn’t know much, but something would not let them peacefully accept what was tacitly accepted around the coop. Something.

There is always a thing in these stories. And here it is:

The fixation the chicken had about crossing the road was necessary and simply the stepping stone to other possibilities. Most beings need to build towards more lofty goals. We do not eat an apple in just one bite, unless it is those tiny Rokcit apples from New Zealand. Which I hope one day to taste. Please send apples. I’d rather go and pick them myself. I too must cross the street or go down it. On second thought, I should probably fly. That chicken and I have much in common.

Why did the chicken cross the road? Because they needed to start somewhere. Kind of like Mr. Cocker at the supermarket. The greatest journeys start with putting one foot forward, I hope it is the best one. If you set out to explore the world or learn a new language, there is always a first step, sometimes against the innermost demons. You know the kind, the ones whose voices make you second guess your wishes and abilities, the ones that make you stop before the project has even begun. Stabbing your will to move forward, and the phrase, what’s the point? The death blow. If you aren’t careful, it will make sense. I bet this is resonating more and more with my unconscious mind. Or is it yours? Continue reading

Hello, Welcome. I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Musing Interruptus is a podcast for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases. You can read along; just click on continue reading in the description to open a Google Doc with the transcription of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, subscribe, follow, and share, but more importantly, continue the conversation. Drop a comment with your answers to today’s questions! I’m curious! The background music is called Young Buck by Blue Dot.

The mix and master were done by Chuy/Jesús Darío, my sound charolastra

The last one. In Spanish, la última y nos vamos. We all get there if we live long enough. Actually, time is only relevant for the firsts. What I am getting it is more a matter of perception. After a heap of firsts, we come to realize there will be a last.

I've prided myself in learning at an early age to enjoy the moment. Close my eyes when I listen to music and submit to the chain reaction. Look around the table and feel the love. Laugh extra hard instead of emitting a muffled chortle. Mindful about the good things. I felt like this was my superpower as I was growing up. I knew that nothing would last and that I had better enjoy every moment.

Of course, I didn’t. I did my best.- Some days, I was great at it; others, I focused on what I didn’t have, the frustration from feeling left out or not getting what I wanted. That can be exquisite. Continue reading

A little regret does us all good. I might be changing my day job soon. It really all hinges on this story. We start out with a little Frank Sinatra and then make our way to a killer vacuum cleaner. This is not only possible it happened and there are AI pictures so you don’t have to imagine all of it. On Musing Interruptus, anything is possible. Listen. Read along. Share your thoughts [with me]. Disclaimer: I am not sponsored nor have I been offered to promote the vacuum cleaner mentioned in this story. I just really, really love mine and I write about things I love. Especially if it is silly. Read along https://tinyurl.com/s3pscrkc