<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147</id><updated>2012-01-21T15:57:14.353-05:00</updated><category term='solution'/><category term='coche'/><category term='araña'/><category term='orgullo'/><category term='nature'/><category term='Astra'/><category term='Integrity'/><category term='un líder nuevo'/><category term='muro del temor'/><category term='bird'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='lies'/><category term='aceptar'/><category term='morning'/><category term='oak'/><category term='oruga'/><category term='verano'/><category term='February'/><category term='confusion'/><category term='árboles'/><category term='Life death'/><category term='sufrimiento'/><category term='la oración'/><category term='choice'/><category term='peace'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Chico'/><category term='Winter'/><category term='Música-Music'/><category term='juicio'/><category term='primera nevada'/><category term='cats'/><category term='caos'/><category term='ideas'/><category term='First week of December'/><category term='United States'/><category term='felices fiestas'/><category term='4th of July'/><category term='pears'/><category term='Life'/><category term='rain'/><category term='give and receive'/><category term='vacuum cleaner'/><category term='soy'/><category term='Dusk'/><category term='muse'/><category term='sombra'/><category term='darkness'/><category term='CD'/><category term='power'/><category term='nieve'/><category term='My Father'/><category term='Rock sculpture'/><category term='Mexico'/><category term='impaciencia'/><category term='judgment'/><category term='Nubes'/><category term='invierno'/><category term='culebra'/><category term='answers'/><category term='cat gato'/><category term='to return'/><category term='wall of fear'/><category term='si pudieras'/><category term='Friendship'/><category term='musa'/><category term='ay'/><category term='Alexander'/><category term='ensueño'/><category term='opportunity'/><category term='dolor'/><category term='hope'/><category term='planeta'/><category term='la fe'/><category term='sidewalks'/><category term='aguas'/><category term='I don&apos;t know'/><category term='April'/><category term='cerebro'/><category term='clutter'/><category term='aspiradora'/><category term='Language'/><category term='amistad'/><category term='compasion'/><category term='la naturaleza'/><category term='año bisiesto'/><category term='after the rain'/><category term='iluminacion'/><category term='life hymn'/><category term='Vicente Huidobro'/><category term='Special day'/><category term='Vida'/><category term='who are you?  you are not... the question'/><category term='body'/><category term='world'/><category term='Good books'/><category term='San'/><category term='robin'/><category term='compassion'/><category term='alive'/><category term='Reiki'/><category term='meta'/><category term='Adios'/><category term='happy holidays'/><category term='hojas'/><category term='energy'/><category term='quejarse'/><category term='preguntas'/><category term='luz'/><category term='problema'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='fear'/><category term='nieve ay'/><category term='sueño'/><category term='Four Agreements'/><category term='hogar'/><category term='tranquilidad'/><category term='Patrimonio Mundial'/><category term='graduation'/><category term='Not a test'/><category term='sube'/><category term='Un Curso en Milagros'/><category term='metas'/><category term='goal'/><category term='no llores'/><category term='Oprah Winfrey'/><category term='leap year'/><category term='Eckart Tolle'/><category term='ahora'/><category term='sun'/><category term='Our Earth'/><category term='Faith'/><category term='A Course in Miracles'/><category term='friend'/><category term='hugs and kisses'/><category term='fragments'/><category term='vida ensayo película actuación'/><category term='victima'/><category term='brother'/><category term='peacefulness'/><category term='separation'/><category term='old year'/><category term='Virgen de Guadalupe'/><category term='New year'/><category term='David Hawkins'/><category term='juzgar'/><category term='Diciembre'/><category term='graduación'/><category term='febrero'/><category term='dejate volar'/><category term='conversation'/><category term='acting'/><category term='lección'/><category term='roble'/><category term='felicidad paz aquí'/><category term='aprender'/><category term='shadow'/><category term='paz tranquilidad'/><category term='holy green'/><category term='Lost'/><category term='moon'/><category term='El Tiempo'/><category term='labyrinth'/><category term='hijas'/><category term='ardillas'/><category term='snake'/><category term='the fourth agreement'/><category term='música'/><category term='organizing'/><category term='agno viejo'/><category term='palabra'/><category term='first snow'/><category term='silencio'/><category term='hormiga'/><category term='driving to work'/><category term='milagro'/><category term='temor'/><category term='observe'/><category term='trees'/><category term='impulse'/><category term='burro'/><category term='sorpresa'/><category term='assumptions'/><category term='lesson'/><category term='nudity'/><category term='el amanecer'/><category term='oportunidad'/><category term='Viewpoint'/><category term='nombre'/><category term='Special lesson'/><category term='miracle'/><category term='ant'/><category term='acceptance'/><category term='piedritas sanitarias'/><category term='Music música'/><category term='stream'/><category term='Meditation'/><category term='dar y recibir'/><category term='second agreement'/><category term='goals'/><category term='force'/><category term='dog'/><category term='daughters'/><category term='time'/><category term='agno nuevo'/><category term='grass'/><category term='Gratitude a second time'/><category term='dominion'/><category term='visitors'/><category term='luna moon planet planeta'/><category term='sueños'/><category term='hermano'/><category term='gatos'/><category term='bendiciones'/><category term='earth'/><category term='pájaro'/><category term='los cuatro acuerdos'/><category term='grace'/><category term='alboroto'/><category term='arroyo'/><category term='amiga'/><category term='memoria'/><category term='san Valentin'/><category term='truth'/><category term='palabras'/><category term='verdad'/><category term='spider'/><category term='Just getting started...el principio'/><category term='nave'/><category term='Solstice'/><category term='to know myself'/><category term='español'/><category term='another day'/><category term='petirrojo'/><category term='special'/><category term='especial'/><category term='oscuridad'/><category term='impulso'/><category term='life vida cloud nube oak tree'/><category term='Integridad'/><category term='conocerme'/><category term='Amor'/><category term='solo'/><category term='desorden'/><category term='alegria'/><category term='Gratitude'/><category term='regresar'/><category term='cambios'/><category term='hábitos'/><category term='frío'/><category term='laberinto'/><category term='cold'/><category term='pajaro'/><category term='a new leader'/><category term='Love'/><category term='the four agreements'/><category term='seasons'/><category term='nubes clouds amor love'/><category term='pain'/><category term='more silence'/><category term='2006'/><category term='universo'/><category term='bailar'/><category term='planet moon luna'/><category term='Don Miguel Ruiz'/><category term='desafio'/><category term='moving'/><category term='perfecto'/><category term='planet'/><category term='pride'/><category term='wise'/><category term='canción'/><category term='origen'/><category term='poema'/><category term='Solitude in Autumn'/><category term='mi México'/><category term='thank you'/><category term='electricity'/><category term='Santiago'/><category term='bilingüe'/><category term='tristeza'/><category term='mañana'/><category term='independent depender de'/><category term='Poetry'/><category term='cambio change amor love'/><category term='desnudez'/><category term='fuerza'/><category term='peace love Eternal forgiveness'/><category term='purple bracelet'/><category term='if'/><category term='oak tree'/><category term='World Heritage list'/><category term='Viaje/ Vacation'/><category term='meditando'/><category term='otoño'/><category term='besos y abrazos'/><category term='maestros'/><category term='Domingo'/><category term='good-by'/><category term='January'/><category term='árbol'/><category term='no sé'/><category term='luna planet moon planeta day night dia noche'/><category term='ego'/><category term='desaparecido'/><category term='Is Happiness a  hypothesis?'/><category term='rain water'/><category term='Un Curso de Milagros'/><category term='primavera'/><category term='Beach'/><category term='Buddha'/><category term='foreigner'/><category term='Todo cambia'/><category term='Tú o Usted'/><category term='eternidad'/><category term='give share love'/><category term='listen'/><category term='meditating'/><category term='un abrazo'/><category term='alma'/><category term='bilingual'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='luna'/><category term='questions'/><category term='Sadness'/><category term='Mother&apos;s Day'/><category term='problem'/><category term='Good Friday'/><category term='leyes de zona'/><category term='dominio'/><category term='visitantes'/><category term='segundo acuerdo'/><category term='complain'/><category term='Fútbol americano'/><category term='eres'/><category term='light'/><category term='Gracias'/><category term='you are'/><category term='word'/><category term='Poesia'/><category term='pray'/><category term='Creativity'/><category term='The Universe'/><category term='present moment'/><category term='Eckhart Tolle'/><category term='Music in your veins'/><category term='I am'/><category term='el universo'/><category term='pasto'/><category term='humility'/><category term='perro'/><category term='eternity'/><category term='manejando al trabajo'/><category term='suffering'/><category term='amiga friend'/><category term='changes'/><category term='pensamientos'/><category term='future'/><category term='silence'/><category term='rezar'/><category term='kitty litter'/><category term='alone'/><category term='la vida'/><category term='porvenir'/><category term='fall'/><category term='felicidad paz'/><category term='cloud'/><category term='la pregunta'/><category term='inglés'/><category term='unconditional love'/><category term='poder'/><category term='el silencio'/><category term='Vida cotidiana'/><category term='wholly green'/><category term='Alejandro'/><category term='Alon'/><category term='lluvia'/><category term='victim'/><category term='cafe'/><category term='fijarse'/><category term='Summer'/><category term='mind'/><category term='Faces'/><category term='meditacion'/><category term='fly'/><category term='planeta planet life vida'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='el cuarto acuerdo'/><category term='tierra'/><category term='paz peace silence silencio'/><category term='iPods'/><category term='volar'/><category term='Paz y Felicidad'/><category term='zoning laws'/><category term='energia'/><category term='blessings'/><category term='cultural'/><category term='real'/><category term='Personal Growth'/><category term='dancing'/><category term='más silencio'/><category term='Dream'/><category term='suposiciones'/><category term='Buda'/><category term='Spring'/><category term='Religion'/><category term='squirrels'/><category term='separación'/><category term='cuerpo'/><category term='Sun and Moon'/><category term='amigos'/><category term='teachers'/><category term='enlightenment'/><category term='caterpillar'/><category term='esencia'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='Spirit'/><category term='felicidad happiness'/><category term='judge'/><category term='pulcera morada'/><category term='streets'/><category term='amor love'/><category term='Seres humanos'/><category term='name'/><category term='peras'/><category term='learn'/><category term='respuestas'/><category term='Life and Death'/><category term='Valentine&apos;s Day'/><category term='la muerte'/><category term='oh my'/><category term='mujer de mi vida'/><category term='sabio'/><category term='cae'/><category term='missing'/><category term='colors'/><category term='donkey'/><category term='chaos'/><category term='habits'/><category term='Esperanza'/><category term='snow'/><category term='leaves'/><category term='29 day challenge'/><title type='text'>Lorena's Blogbilingue</title><subtitle type='html'>Two languages, two cultures, the door opens.
Dos idiomas, dos culturas, la puerta se abre</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>291</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1608419711274065</id><published>2010-09-15T08:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T08:56:32.012-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cambios'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coche'/><title type='text'>Mi Coche</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TJC6ZiA0w7I/AAAAAAAAAzg/FAzHuw27NWI/s1600/Me+and+my+Audi.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TJC6ZiA0w7I/AAAAAAAAAzg/FAzHuw27NWI/s320/Me+and+my+Audi.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517114491318617010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mi coche y yo nos conocimos en el año 1988.  En aquel entonces mi coche era joven, nuevecito que digamos y lleno de energía.  Ibamos a muchos lados juntos, mi coche y yo, siempre con seguridad y siempre con cuidado y tranquilidad.  Mi coche era mi amigo, mi mascota y como parte de mi familia.  Mi coche nunca me decepcionó, era fiel y firme.  Mientras pasaban los años a veces mi coche se enfermaba y tenía que llevarlo al "hospital" para coches, pero después regresaba totalmente arreglado y listo para seguir más aventuras conmigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La verdad, estaba yo muy contenta con mi coche.  Sentía que era una extensión de mi persona, que era parte de mí y cuando llegó el momento de vender mi coche, pues, no fue nada fácil.    Sólo pensar en la acción de venderlo me salían las lágrimas, pero mi vida va cambiando cada día más rápido y sabía que a pesar del dolor, no me quedaba alternativa.  Tenía que ser fuerte y hacerlo, ni modo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora llevo cuatro días sin mi coche y todavía estoy aquí, o sea, sobreviví la experiencia sabiendo que fue lo mejor, mejor para mí y mejor para la persona que lo compró.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo cambia, ya sabemos y hay que aceptar los cambios como parte de la experiencia de vivir en este planeta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Extraño mi coche?  Pues, sí, pero voy a seguir adelante sin lamentos.  Así es la vida, así tiene que ser y acepto todo, no veo nada como pérdida, todo es ganar y todo es bueno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entonces, adiós mi lindo coche, me has servido bien y te agradezco todos los años que convivimos juntos, que te vaya muy bien en tu nueva vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;9/15/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1608419711274065?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1608419711274065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1608419711274065' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1608419711274065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1608419711274065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/09/mi-coche.html' title='Mi Coche'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TJC6ZiA0w7I/AAAAAAAAAzg/FAzHuw27NWI/s72-c/Me+and+my+Audi.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6557584522598012870</id><published>2010-08-21T07:48:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T07:53:04.521-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>Moving Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9zEOaAJI/AAAAAAAAAzM/iQeP1_TedTM/s1600/sun+room.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9zEOaAJI/AAAAAAAAAzM/iQeP1_TedTM/s320/sun+room.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507829554302550162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9taFOQqI/AAAAAAAAAzE/K9FkA-cuIUo/s1600/office.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9taFOQqI/AAAAAAAAAzE/K9FkA-cuIUo/s320/office.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507829457090396834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9k6vrxKI/AAAAAAAAAy8/VAN3KLNQkC0/s1600/guest+room.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9k6vrxKI/AAAAAAAAAy8/VAN3KLNQkC0/s320/guest+room.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507829311239603362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9esbbXnI/AAAAAAAAAy0/WoL3dnLgja4/s1600/dining+room.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9esbbXnI/AAAAAAAAAy0/WoL3dnLgja4/s320/dining+room.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507829204317331058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9V9VPTqI/AAAAAAAAAys/w0ioQrokgWw/s1600/bedroom.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9V9VPTqI/AAAAAAAAAys/w0ioQrokgWw/s320/bedroom.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507829054235954850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first step in the beginning of our new life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/21/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6557584522598012870?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6557584522598012870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6557584522598012870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6557584522598012870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6557584522598012870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/08/moving-day.html' title='Moving Day!'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TG-9zEOaAJI/AAAAAAAAAzM/iQeP1_TedTM/s72-c/sun+room.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3621863296748608353</id><published>2010-07-03T09:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T09:46:52.485-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='juzgar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eckart Tolle'/><title type='text'>Juzgar o No</title><content type='html'>Hoy no voy a juzgar nada que ocurre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy Yo no voy a juzgar nada que ocurre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Yo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Quién es... YO?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U otra pregunta--¿quién soy yo?  Pero eso es diferente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Quién no va a juzgar nada hoy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Mi mente o La Mente?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eckhart Tolle dice que hay dos seres adentro, el que observa y el que está observado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El que observa es el "Ser" con mayuscula, el que está observado es el "ser" con minuscula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El chiste es darse cuenta quién está observando todas las reacciones de uno y cómo se siente el que está observado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es mucho pensar en eso y es complicado, por lo menos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero es mi intención.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No juzgar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De veras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ver qué pasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Después, les platico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;7/3/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3621863296748608353?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3621863296748608353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3621863296748608353' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3621863296748608353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3621863296748608353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/07/juzgar-o-no.html' title='Juzgar o No'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7241752558962202537</id><published>2010-06-28T14:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T14:33:05.643-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fijarse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alegria'/><title type='text'>Dos Ideas</title><content type='html'>Nada ocurre de la misma manera dos veces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               y&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada cosa minuciosa alrededor de ti puede traerte alegría si te fijas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(la tinta que la pluma tiene para que escribas, el pétalo de la flor que mueve en la brisa, el gorjeo de algún pájaro en la distancia, la textura del cojín de tu silla, el sonido que hace tu lápiz cuando escribes un número de teléfono en una hoja de papel, la suavidad del papel, el apoyo que te dan tus zapatos cuando caminas, la salpicadura del agua en la fuente, el aire contra tu piel, los vellos de los brazos, el latido de tu corazón, la sonrisa de otro ser de luz, la sonrisa que regalas a tus hermanos, el amor que tienes, el amor que eres, el amor que recibes, el amor que das que toca a todo el mundo, y más y más cosas porque somos UNO y la alegría está siempre con nosotros, sólo hay que fijarse).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;6/28/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7241752558962202537?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7241752558962202537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7241752558962202537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7241752558962202537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7241752558962202537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/06/dos-ideas.html' title='Dos Ideas'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1533619230431408406</id><published>2010-06-06T21:55:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T22:03:13.378-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduación'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alexander'/><title type='text'>La Graduación de Alex/ Alex's Graduation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TAxSQVaDP2I/AAAAAAAAAyg/AY5uLrCA9W0/s1600/Alex%27s+graduation.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TAxSQVaDP2I/AAAAAAAAAyg/AY5uLrCA9W0/s320/Alex%27s+graduation.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479845287180844898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy se graduó mi nieto de la prepa.  Me acuerdo el día que nació, abriendo sus ojos en seguida para ver quienes lo rodeaban, dónde había llegado y con quién.  Te quiero, Alex, y ¡muchas felicidades!  Cuan lejos has llegado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandson graduated from high school today.  I remember when he was born, opening his eyes right away to see who was around him, where he had arrived and with whom.  I love you, Alex, congratulations!!!  Look how far you have come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;6/6/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1533619230431408406?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1533619230431408406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1533619230431408406' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1533619230431408406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1533619230431408406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/06/la-graduacion-de-alex-alexs-graduation.html' title='La Graduación de Alex/ Alex&apos;s Graduation'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/TAxSQVaDP2I/AAAAAAAAAyg/AY5uLrCA9W0/s72-c/Alex%27s+graduation.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4947578005911506402</id><published>2010-04-24T08:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T08:31:42.907-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sueños'/><title type='text'>Sueño con casas/I dream of houses</title><content type='html'>Sueño con casas, casas grandes, casas que necesitan arreglamientos, que hace falta decorarlas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sueño con personas desconocidas caminando dentro de las casas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sueño con gente enferma y con la gente que cuida a la gente enferma que después se enferman ellos mismos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Tienen significado estos sueños?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No quieren decir absolutamente nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los sueños son sueños.  Y así es.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Con qué sueñas tú?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream of houses, big houses, houses that need to be fixed up, that need to be decorated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream of people I don't know walking around inside the houses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream of sick people and of the ones who take care of the sick people who later become sick themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do these dreams mean anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They mean absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams are dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you dream about??????????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;4/24/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4947578005911506402?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4947578005911506402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4947578005911506402' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4947578005911506402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4947578005911506402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/04/sueno-con-casasi-dream-of-houses.html' title='Sueño con casas/I dream of houses'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-410146234038466981</id><published>2010-03-31T21:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T21:43:32.386-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sube'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dejate volar'/><title type='text'>Otra Version</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:documentproperties&gt;   &lt;o:template&gt;Normal&lt;/o:Template&gt;   &lt;o:revision&gt;0&lt;/o:Revision&gt;   &lt;o:totaltime&gt;0&lt;/o:TotalTime&gt;   &lt;o:pages&gt;1&lt;/o:Pages&gt;   &lt;o:words&gt;108&lt;/o:Words&gt;   &lt;o:characters&gt;616&lt;/o:Characters&gt;   &lt;o:lines&gt;5&lt;/o:Lines&gt;   &lt;o:paragraphs&gt;1&lt;/o:Paragraphs&gt;   &lt;o:characterswithspaces&gt;756&lt;/o:CharactersWithSpaces&gt;   &lt;o:version&gt;11.1287&lt;/o:Version&gt;  &lt;/o:DocumentProperties&gt;  &lt;o:officedocumentsettings&gt;   &lt;o:allowpng/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotshowrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:donotprintrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:"Times New Roman";  panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Palatino;  panose-1:0 2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:14.0pt;  font-family:Palatino;} table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-parent:"";  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sube eternamente&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sube a la infinidad&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sube a lo profundo del tiempo&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sube al fondo de ti mismo&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sube lo más que puedas&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sube sin desmayar&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A través de todos los planetas y todas las epocas&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saca tus pies del lodo de tu memoria&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saca tu memoria de los momentos del pasado&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sube tu alma, sube tu espiritu&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Déjate volar, déjate sentir el presente de tu presente&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Y gózalo, disfruta de la vida&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Siente todas las experiencias, no pierdas ni una&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Siente el latido de tu corazón latiendo por vivir&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Que tengas consciencia cada vez más y más&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No hay nada que perder, no pierdas ni un segundito de tu día,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;De tu noche, de tu semana, de tu mes, de tu año&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;De todos los años que te da la vida&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Experimenta la existencia en su totalidad&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Y vas a volar, ahora y siempre.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;3/31/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-410146234038466981?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/410146234038466981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=410146234038466981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/410146234038466981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/410146234038466981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/03/otra-version.html' title='Otra Version'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-8162260185340769859</id><published>2010-03-22T11:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T11:47:49.640-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cae'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vicente Huidobro'/><title type='text'>"Que el verso sea como una llave que abra mil puertas"</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:documentproperties&gt;   &lt;o:template&gt;Normal&lt;/o:Template&gt;   &lt;o:revision&gt;0&lt;/o:Revision&gt;   &lt;o:totaltime&gt;0&lt;/o:TotalTime&gt;   &lt;o:pages&gt;1&lt;/o:Pages&gt;   &lt;o:words&gt;225&lt;/o:Words&gt;   &lt;o:characters&gt;1283&lt;/o:Characters&gt;   &lt;o:lines&gt;10&lt;/o:Lines&gt;   &lt;o:paragraphs&gt;2&lt;/o:Paragraphs&gt;   &lt;o:characterswithspaces&gt;1575&lt;/o:CharactersWithSpaces&gt;   &lt;o:version&gt;11.1287&lt;/o:Version&gt;  &lt;/o:DocumentProperties&gt;  &lt;o:officedocumentsettings&gt;   &lt;o:allowpng/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotshowrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:donotprintrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:"Times New Roman";  panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Palatino;  panose-1:0 2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:14.0pt;  font-family:Palatino;} table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-parent:"";  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae/Fall&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae eternamente&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae al fondo del infinito&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae al fondo del tiempo&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae al fondo de ti mismo&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae lo más bajo que se pueda caer&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae sin vértigo&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A través de todos los espacios y todas las edades&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A través de todas las almas de todos los anhelos y&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;(todos los naufragios&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae y quema al pasar los astros y los mares&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Quema los ojos que te miran y los corazones que&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;(te aguardan&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Quema el viento con tu voz&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;El viento que se enreda en tu voz&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Y la noche que tiene frío en su gruta de huesos&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae en infancia&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae en vejez&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae en lágrimas&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae en risas&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae en música sobre el universo&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae de tu cabeza a tus pies&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae de tus pies a tu cabeza&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae del mar a la fuente&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cae al último abismo de silencio&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Como el barco que se hunde apagando sus luces&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall forever&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall to the depths of the infinite&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall to the depths of time&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall to the depths of your Self&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall as low as you can&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall without dizziness&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Into all spaces and ages&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Into each soul, each longing for land, each shipwreck&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall and scald the stars and the seas as you pass&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Scald the eyes that watch you, the hearts that await you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Scald the wind with your voice&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The wind that’s trapped in your voice&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And the night growing cold in its cave filled with bones&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall into childhood&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall into age&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall into tears&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall into laughter&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall into music all over the universe&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall from your head to your feet&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall from your feet to your head&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall from the sea to its source&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fall to the final abyss of silence&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Like a sinking ship drowning its lights&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Vicente Huidobro, poeta chileno&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;3/22/10&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-8162260185340769859?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/8162260185340769859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=8162260185340769859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8162260185340769859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8162260185340769859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/03/que-el-verso-sea-como-una-llave-que.html' title='&quot;Que el verso sea como una llave que abra mil puertas&quot;'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7258605733150572299</id><published>2010-03-17T13:25:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:36:23.856-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rain water'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lluvia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aguas'/><title type='text'>La Lluvia de Marzo/March Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/S6ERRMpL1WI/AAAAAAAAAyM/SmKz0LKVn0g/s1600-h/stream%26pond.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/S6ERRMpL1WI/AAAAAAAAAyM/SmKz0LKVn0g/s320/stream%26pond.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449656011244426594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/S6EQ6njRI0I/AAAAAAAAAyE/zQ4mmhRpDi0/s1600-h/stream,+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/S6EQ6njRI0I/AAAAAAAAAyE/zQ4mmhRpDi0/s320/stream,+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449655623330374466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las  aguas corren como si mañana no viniera, sólo&lt;br /&gt;existe este momento.  Escúchalas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to the sound of the rushing water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;3/17/10&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/S6ERfMtC_EI/AAAAAAAAAyU/MNYgZQxK0u8/s1600-h/stream,+close-up.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/S6ERfMtC_EI/AAAAAAAAAyU/MNYgZQxK0u8/s320/stream,+close-up.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449656251778792514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7258605733150572299?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7258605733150572299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7258605733150572299' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7258605733150572299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7258605733150572299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/03/la-lluvia-de-marzomarch-rain.html' title='La Lluvia de Marzo/March Rain'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/S6ERRMpL1WI/AAAAAAAAAyM/SmKz0LKVn0g/s72-c/stream%26pond.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7247198962680675208</id><published>2010-03-10T09:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T09:42:22.820-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foreigner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mexico'/><title type='text'>When you are born in Mexico</title><content type='html'>When you are born and raised in Mexico you are just Mexican, you are who you are and there is no problem, but when you come here you become someone else.  You are now a “chicano,” “wetback,” “alien,” and you are not understood.  In your own country you are not an immigrant, you are you with your family who loves you beyond love and who cares for you beyond caring, but when you come here you must fight for your basic rights, for the rights that others take for granted.  You must prove yourself to be good and honest because here you are not who you are, you are a “foreigner”.  You come to do work that no one else wants to do.  You are glad to have a job, no matter how menial.  In your own country you are calm and at peace, but when you come here you must be on your toes and try to fit in and be who you are and not be who you are at the same time.  It’s a real trick.  In your own country you can think the way you think and it’s okay, but when you come here you must think differently.  And that’s the way it is, and is it fair you may ask, and the answer is “no, it’s not fair,”  but that’s the way it is and you come here anyway, and you have no choice but to accept it this way because it is what it is and you are who you are and life goes on and somehow you will survive, you will make it, you will figure it all out.&lt;br /&gt;I salute you and I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;3/10/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Otro día español)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7247198962680675208?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7247198962680675208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7247198962680675208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7247198962680675208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7247198962680675208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-you-are-born-in-mexico.html' title='When you are born in Mexico'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7852173425108863211</id><published>2010-03-06T16:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T16:07:54.462-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to return'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='regresar'/><title type='text'>The moment/ El momento</title><content type='html'>Today is Saturday and I’m still recovering from the trip.  We got our kitty back even though I was prepared to let him go to a new home.  They didn’t want him after all.  So here we are, back in the world of predictability, back where I know when I turn on the hot water it will be the temperature I need, back where I can drop the toilet paper into the toilet and not feel guilty, back to the “I’ll give this place one thing,” he said, “It’s quiet.”  Yes, a little too quiet.  Is there any life around here?  Does anyone really live around here?  Ah, yes, our familiar bed.  I slept until 8:30 this morning, didn’t wake up once, got up and did my morning workout, even ran around outside.  There was sun, amazing, a blue sky kind of like San Miguel.  Oh God, San Miguel.  I was so sure I wouldn’t cry this time when we got on the plane in Leon, but as soon as my feet stepped onto the gringo plane, it hit me and the tears came.  It’s just that I saw the mountains in the darkness and they reminded me, yeah, they reminded me of what I was leaving, the cobblestone streets, the colors, the cantera, my brother, the anonymous greetings, the gringo discussion groups, the happy knitters, the Spanish discussion group, the healers, the concerts, the warmth, the blue blue sky, the dogs barking, the cats screeching, the baby crying, the car motors, the sounds of life, the sounds of people living and changing and growing and laughing and crying and just being, like even here where we are just being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy es sábado y todavía estoy recuperándome del viaje.  Regresaron nuestro gato, aunque estaba preparada de dejarlo ir a un hogar nuevo.  No lo querían.  Entonces, aquí estamos otra vez en el mundo previsible donde sé que cuando prendo el agua caliente será la temperature que necesito, donde puedo dejar caer el papel higienico en el inodoro y no sentirme culpable, otra vez regresada a “Le doy una cosa a este lugar, “ dijo, “es tranquilo.”  Sí, demasiado tranquilo.  ¿Hay vida cerca de aquí?  ¿Hay alguien viviendo aquí?  Ay, sí, nuestra cama familiar.  Me dormí hasta las 8:30 esta mañana, no me desperté ni una vez antes, me levanté e hice ejercicio aun afuera.  Había sol, asombroso, un cielo azul parecido a San Miguel.  Ay, Dios, San Miguel.  Estaba segura que no iba a llorar esta vez cuando nos subimos al avión en León, pero al momento que pisé el avión gringo, me golpeó y llegaron las lásgrimas.  Es que vi las montañas en la oscuridad and me recordaron, sí, me recordaron de que dejaba, las calles de adoquines, los colores, la cantera, mi hermano, los saludos anónimos, los grupos de discusión gringos, las tejedoras felices, el grupo de discusión en español, el grupo de sanadores, los conciertos, el calor, el cielo azul azul, los perros ladradrando, los gatos gritando, el bebé llorando, los motores de los coches, los sonidos de la vida, los sonidos de la gente viviendo y cambiando y creciendo y riendo y llorando y simplemente existiendo, como aquí donde estamos solamente existiendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;3/6/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7852173425108863211?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7852173425108863211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7852173425108863211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7852173425108863211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7852173425108863211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/03/moment-el-momento.html' title='The moment/ El momento'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7924965431942943400</id><published>2010-02-07T16:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T16:41:31.112-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amor'/><title type='text'>¿Dónde está el amor?</title><content type='html'>Empezó a llover el domingo pasado, el 31 de enero en la tarde.  Siguió la lluvia fuerte y sin parar por cuatro días.  No vimos el sol hasta viernes, el 5 de febrero.  Se empapó todo.  Se nos fue la luz.  Se quemó un breaker porque se metió agua en la caja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Dónde está el amor?  En que el electricista llegó pronto y en seguida regresó la luz.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La lluvia fue tanta que por poco se desborda el arroyo grande que pasa por aquí.  El agua llegó a su limite, paró de llover y no se desbordó.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay carreteras en la Republica derrumbadas por la lluvia.  ¿Dónde está el amor?  En el trabajo de la reconstrucción de las carreteras, trabajo que hace falta a mucha gente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay una señora mendigando en la calle.  Le doy la mitad del pan que no pude terminar y una sonrisa.  Su cara inmediatamente cambia de tristeza a alegría y me doy cuenta que ella es bella.  Con una sonrisa en la cara todos somos bellos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Dónde está el amor?  Pues, en todos los eventos pequeños de la vida, pequeños y grandes, cada momento de la vida si decidimos abrir los ojos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(English another day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;2/7/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7924965431942943400?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7924965431942943400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7924965431942943400' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7924965431942943400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7924965431942943400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/02/donde-esta-el-amor.html' title='¿Dónde está el amor?'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1173805091923098812</id><published>2010-01-27T19:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T19:43:14.191-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='United States'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cultural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mexico'/><title type='text'>It's a Cultural Thing</title><content type='html'>I’m in a big store like a Kmart.  In the electronics section there is an electrical outlet sticking out of the floor, right in the middle of the floor where shoppers pass by with their shopping carts.  It’s just there for no apparent reason, sticking up at least three inches.  Now the interesting thing about this is that only a Gringo will trip over this electrical outlet.  Did I mention we are in Mexico?  The Mexican shoppers who pass by will somehow know not to trip on this outlet.  They will see it out of the corner of their eye, “de reojo” and go about their way.  But a Gringo, ah, a Gringo will not expect any kind of obstruction in the floor and consequently will trip right over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a cultural thing.  In the United States, we are taught that someone else has the responsibility for our safety and if we fall or trip over something, well, some other person or company is to blame and must pay for our mishap.  Consequently, we are less vigilant about where we happen to put our feet when out and about in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Mexico, culturally speaking, everyone knows that each person is responsible for his/her safety.  If you trip over a rock or pipe sticking out of the sidewalk there is no one to blame, no one to pay for your mishap.  You are on your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is one way of life better than another?  I’m not saying that.  It’s just different and only the Gringo will get his foot stuck in a pothole.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find that very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;1/27/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry, no translation today…it’s a cultural thing)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1173805091923098812?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1173805091923098812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1173805091923098812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1173805091923098812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1173805091923098812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-cultural-thing.html' title='It&apos;s a Cultural Thing'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6805325119430741381</id><published>2010-01-09T16:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T16:10:47.642-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='temor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditando'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (18)/ The Planet (18)</title><content type='html'>Astra seguía contemplando…”Temor, temor, ¿de qué tengo temor?  ¿De vivir?  ¿De los asteroides?  ¿De mi planeta?  ¿De la muerte?  A propósito, ¿qué es la muerte para mí?  Tal vez, perder mi identidad, ya no ser luna sino un pedazo de nada en el universo, sola, triste, perdida, no tener mi capacidad de pensar, no tener una mente, no estar conectada a mi planeta, Pleno Verde, no poder ver, no poder comprender nada…pues, hay mucho temor si me dejo contemplarlo.  ¿Cómo rompo esta resistencia que siento dentro de mí?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astra oyó estas palabras:  “Vas bien, Astra, sigue contemplando, vas bien.  Poco a poco te das cuenta de tu verdadero ser.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astra siguió su órbita por un millón de años más meditando sobre el muro del temor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astra continued contemplating…”Fear, fear, what am I afraid of?  Of living?  Of the asteroids?  Of my planet?  Of death?  By the way, what is death for me?  Maybe it means losing my identity, no longer being a moon but rather a piece of nothing in the universe, alone, sad, lost, not having the ability to think, not having a mind, not being connected to my planet, Holy Green, not being able to see, not being able to understand anything…well, there is a lot of fear if I let myself think about it.  How do I break this resistance that I feel inside of me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astra heard these words:  “You are doing fine, Astra, keep on contemplating, you are doing well.  Little by little you will realize your true being.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astra continued her orbit for another million years meditating on the wall of fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;1/9/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6805325119430741381?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6805325119430741381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6805325119430741381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6805325119430741381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6805325119430741381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2010/01/el-planeta-18-planet-18.html' title='El Planeta (18)/ The Planet (18)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6951757042224602106</id><published>2009-12-31T08:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T09:04:05.626-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Astra'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luna moon planet planeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alexander'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alejandro'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (17), The Planet (17)</title><content type='html'>--Pónganse de acuerdo, muchachos.  Somos mucho más fuertes juntos que separados volando por aquí y por allá sin rumbo.  ¿Por qué no se dan cuenta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Pero si somos planeta—dijo el asteroide #825,--vamos a tener que encontrar un sol y una luna y tal vez hasta otros planetas también.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¿Y qué?—dijo Alejandro.  --Estoy seguro que si somos un planeta, pronto encontramos un sol y si no encontramos una luna, pues, podemos crear una.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--O sea, una parte de nosotros va a ser luna en vez de planeta—dijo el asteroide #1203.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes de que Alejandro pudiera contestar, los asteroides empezaron a discutir sobre quiénes iban a ser planeta y quiénes iban a ser luna y otra vez no podían ponerse de acuerdo, porque la luna era una esfera femenina y ningún asteroide quería volverse una esfera femenina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alejandro en aquel momento decidió salir de su órbita para hablar con Astra sobre la posibilidad de incorporarse como luna del futuro planeta hecho de un millón de asteroides que tarde o temprano iban a juntarse para crear una esfera nueva en el universo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Será posible que acepte?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Lectores, ¿aceptará Astra la oferta?  ¿Sí o no?  ¿Qué piensan?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Come on, guys, get your act together.  We are so much stronger as one entity than separate ones flying all over the place with no direction.  How come you don’t realize that?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But if we’re a planet, then we’ll have to find a sun and a moon and maybe even other planets as well,” said asteroid #825.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So what?” said Alexander.  “I am sure that if we are a planet soon we will find a sun and if we don’t find a moon, well, we can create one.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You mean part of us will be the moon instead of the planet,” said asteroid #1203.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before Alexander could answer, the asteroids began to argue about who would be a planet and who would be a moon and once more they couldn’t come to an agreement because the moon was feminine and none of the asteroids wanted to become a feminine sphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that moment Alexander decided to go out of his orbit in order to speak with Astra about the possibility of becoming the moon of the future planet made up of a million asteroids who sooner or later would get together to create a new sphere in the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if she will accept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Readers, will Astra accept the offer?  Yes or no?  What do you think?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/31/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6951757042224602106?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6951757042224602106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6951757042224602106' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6951757042224602106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6951757042224602106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/12/el-planeta-17-planet-17.html' title='El Planeta (17), The Planet (17)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6471759500704354206</id><published>2009-12-26T16:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T16:27:36.635-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muro del temor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wall of fear'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (16)/ The Planet (16)</title><content type='html'>El Muro del Temor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--La verdad para ti, Astra y para todos es que nada es como parece.  Todo lo que ves es tu proyección del universo.  No ves nada realmente como es.  Ves solamente el pasado o más bien la memoria que tienes del pasado, o sea, un pasado inventado lleno de espejismo.  Entonces, tu “presente” no es el presente, sino una versión de toda la experiencia que has proyectado encima de este momento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era mucho para Astra pensar que todo lo que creía que veía no era cierto.  Entonces, ¿qué es la verdad?  ¿Por qué va inventando su realidad cuando seguramente existe una realidad de verdad?  ¿Una realidad de verdad?  --Ay, de mí,-- pensó Astra, --¿qué quiere decir eso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--La “realidad” está aquí mismo, desde siempre.  Siempre ha existido, siempre existirá.  Has puesto un muro enfrente de ella, un muro del temor y el temor no te deja ver lo que está en el otro lado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Quién construyó el muro?  --Tú, Astra, tú lo has construido.--  ¿Yo?  No puede ser.  ¡No puede ser!  No temo nada.  Aquí ando girando alrededor de mi planeta y allá andan los asteroides que en cualquier momento pudieran chocarse contra mi cuerpo y sigo creando mi vida como si no existieran y…y…y…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por primera vez Astra empezó a sentir una resistencia muy dentro de su ser, una resistencia poderosa, algo que no la dejaba ver la verdad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Puede ser el muro del temor?  Se puso a contemplar eso mientras veía a Alejandro en la distancia discutiendo con los otros asteroides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Wall of Fear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The truth is, Astra, that nothing you see is what it appears to be.  Everything you see is your projection of the universe.  You don’t see anything as it really is.  You see only the past or rather the memory that you have of the past, in other words an invented past full of illusions.  So your “present” is not the present but rather a version of all the experience that you have projected onto this moment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was too much for Astra to think that everything that she thought she saw wasn’t true.  So, what is the truth?  Why did she go around inventing her reality when surely a real reality exists.  A real reality?  “Oh, my,” thought Astra, “what does that mean?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Reality is right here since always.  It has always existed and it will always exist.  You have put a wall in front of it, a wall of fear and the fear doesn’t let you see what’s on the other side."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who built the wall?  "You built it, Astra, you did".  Me?  It can’t be.  It can’t be!  I’m not afraid of anything.  Here I am spinning around my planet and over there are those asteroids who in any given moment could crash into me and I keep on creating my life as if they didn’t exist, and…and…and…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time Astra started to feel a resistance very deep inside her being, a powerful resistance, something that would not let her see the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be the wall of fear?  She began to contemplate that while she watched Alexander in the distance arguing with the other asteroids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/26/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6471759500704354206?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6471759500704354206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6471759500704354206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6471759500704354206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6471759500704354206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/12/el-planeta-16-planet-16.html' title='El Planeta (16)/ The Planet (16)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-9188025225288620996</id><published>2009-12-24T10:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T10:34:35.201-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oscuridad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='darkness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>El Amor es la Luz/ Love is the Light</title><content type='html'>EL AMOR ES LA LUZ EN LA CUAL VEO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO PUEDO VER EN LA OSCURIDAD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVE THE LIGHT IN WHICH I SEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CANNOT SEE IN DARKNESS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/24/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-9188025225288620996?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/9188025225288620996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=9188025225288620996' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/9188025225288620996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/9188025225288620996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/12/el-amor-es-la-luz-love-is-light.html' title='El Amor es la Luz/ Love is the Light'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-625764598287899870</id><published>2009-12-18T10:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T10:43:04.081-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blessings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sueño'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bendiciones'/><title type='text'>El Sueño/ The Dream</title><content type='html'>Imagina que te saludo o me despido de ti y siento un amor muy fuerte dentro de mí y sé que eres tú la persona que está enfrente de mí pero cuando miro bien no veo tu cara sino la mía, me miro a mí misma, es como si estuviera viéndome en un espejo, pero soy yo y soy la persona que se para allí mirándome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagina…este sueño me dice que somos uno y no hay diferencia entre tú y yo.  Somos iguales.  Recibo tus bendiciones, hijo del Universo.  Siento tu amor, recibe el mío.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I see myself in you.&lt;br /&gt;In the dream we are standing face to face&lt;br /&gt;I feel the love surrounding us&lt;br /&gt;We are smiling as we say “Hello”&lt;br /&gt;There is a light that glows&lt;br /&gt;And as I look at what I think is you&lt;br /&gt;I see my own face smiling back&lt;br /&gt;Could it be that I am you and you are me?&lt;br /&gt;And so by loving you I am loving me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, holy child of the Universe, may these blessings abound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/18/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-625764598287899870?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/625764598287899870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=625764598287899870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/625764598287899870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/625764598287899870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/12/el-sueno-dream.html' title='El Sueño/ The Dream'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6749133012428126449</id><published>2009-12-08T09:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T09:42:28.180-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensamientos'/><title type='text'>Los Pensamientos/ Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&gt;      &lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:documentproperties&gt;   &lt;o:template&gt;Normal&lt;/o:Template&gt;   &lt;o:revision&gt;0&lt;/o:Revision&gt;   &lt;o:totaltime&gt;0&lt;/o:TotalTime&gt;   &lt;o:pages&gt;1&lt;/o:Pages&gt;   &lt;o:words&gt;540&lt;/o:Words&gt;   &lt;o:characters&gt;3079&lt;/o:Characters&gt;   &lt;o:lines&gt;25&lt;/o:Lines&gt;   &lt;o:paragraphs&gt;6&lt;/o:Paragraphs&gt;   &lt;o:characterswithspaces&gt;3781&lt;/o:CharactersWithSpaces&gt;   &lt;o:version&gt;11.1282&lt;/o:Version&gt;  &lt;/o:DocumentProperties&gt;  &lt;o:officedocumentsettings&gt;   &lt;o:allowpng/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotshowrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:donotprintrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:"Times New Roman";  panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Palatino;  panose-1:0 2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:14.0pt;  font-family:Palatino;} table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-parent:"";  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;¿Qué clase de pensamientos tienes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;¿De qué piensas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Durante el día ¿dónde reside tu mente?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;¿Piensas en desastres?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Por ejemplo, “Nada va a pasar como yo quiero, todo me va mal, todo el mundo está en contra de mí, la gente es mala, no tengo suficiente dinero, etc. etc.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Cada causa tiene su efecto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Nuestros pensamientos nos afectan en maneras que tal vez no podamos imaginar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Si estamos siempre pensando en lo peor, pues, “lo peor” nos va a pasar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Si decido vivir en el temor, entonces cualquier cosa mala me puede llegar porque he puesto toda mi atención en la cosa miedosa y el universo quiere darnos lo que “queremos.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Si estoy enfocada en algo negativo, el universo cree que es lo que quiero en mi vida y me lo va a dar, inclusive cosas como dolores en el cuerpo, depresión, o cualquier enfermedad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Cami Walker, una mujer joven tenía esclerosis múltiple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Su consejadora, una mujer africana chamana le dijo que dejara de estar pensando en sus problemas y en vez de andar ensimismada que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;diera regalos, un regalo a diario a cualquier persona por veintinueve días.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Lo hizo y antes de terminar los 29 días ya no caminaba con bastón.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Siguió con el hecho de estar regalando y se curó por completo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;No hizo ningún otro cambio en su dieta ni medicinas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Lo interesante fue que los “regalos” eran algo tan simple como una sonrisa, o abrir la puerta a alguien o dejar a una persona pasar primero en la cola.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Uno no tenía que estar gastando dinero para dar un regalo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Preparar una comida para la persona que amas, por ejemplo, es un regalo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Dar bendiciones a la persona que te rebasa cuando quieres entrar en el carril…la posibilidades son infinitas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Lo importante es ser consciente de dar sin esperar nada de la persona que recibe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;En realidad, cuando damos, sólo damos a nosotros mismos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Si quieres ver el sitio de Cami Walker, aprieta aquí: &lt;a href="http://givingchallenge.ning.com"&gt;29Gifts.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;What kind of thoughts do you have?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;What do you think about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;During the day, where does your mind live?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Do you think of disasters?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;For example, “Nothing happens the way I want it to, everything goes wrong, everyone is against me, people are evil, I don’t have enough money, and so forth and so on.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Every cause has its effect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Our thoughts affect us in ways that perhaps we can’t imagine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If we are always thinking of the worst, well, “the worst” is sure to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If I decide to live in fear, then any bad thing is certain to come to me because I have put all my attention on the fearful thing and the universe wants to give us what we “want.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If I am focused on something negative, the universe believes that that’s what I want in my life and it will give it to me, even things like pain in my body, depression or any illness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Cami Walker, a young woman was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Her adviser, an African shaman woman told her to stop thinking about her problems and instead of being wrapped up in herself, that she give gifts, one gift a day to anyone for twenty-nine days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She did and before she finished the 29 days she no longer needed a cane to walk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She continued this act of giving and was cured completely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She made no other change in her diet or medicines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The interesting part is that the “gifts” were as simple as a smile, or opening the door for someone, or allowing another person to go first in line.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;You don’t have to spend money to give a gift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Preparing a meal for the person you love, for example, is a gift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Giving blessings to the person who cuts you off in traffic…the possibilities are infinite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The important thing is to be conscious of giving without expectations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In reality, when we give, we only give to ourselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If you want to see Cami Walker’s website, click here:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;a href="http://givingchallenge.ning.com"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://givingchallenge.ning.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;29gifts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;12/8/09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6749133012428126449?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6749133012428126449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6749133012428126449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6749133012428126449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6749133012428126449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/12/los-pensamientos-thoughts.html' title='Los Pensamientos/ Thoughts'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1278908390928993584</id><published>2009-12-05T20:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T20:24:20.062-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='besos y abrazos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hugs and kisses'/><title type='text'>Mi Familia/My Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsHgM-qZqI/AAAAAAAAAuw/jVos8ACRnoc/s1600-h/Lisa+%26+Rima.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsHgM-qZqI/AAAAAAAAAuw/jVos8ACRnoc/s320/Lisa+%26+Rima.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411927627037042338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsHUWXb3iI/AAAAAAAAAuo/ptzBJUuTvmM/s1600-h/Ted+and+Lauren+kissing.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsHUWXb3iI/AAAAAAAAAuo/ptzBJUuTvmM/s320/Ted+and+Lauren+kissing.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411927423398436386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsHEHBx2bI/AAAAAAAAAug/OpHnAa07SsY/s1600-h/Grandma+kissing+Alex.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsHEHBx2bI/AAAAAAAAAug/OpHnAa07SsY/s320/Grandma+kissing+Alex.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411927144403163570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsG6qWifOI/AAAAAAAAAuY/HNewCmEahz8/s1600-h/Alex+kissing+Grandma.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsG6qWifOI/AAAAAAAAAuY/HNewCmEahz8/s320/Alex+kissing+Grandma.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411926982086786274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1278908390928993584?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1278908390928993584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1278908390928993584' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1278908390928993584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1278908390928993584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/12/mi-familiamy-family.html' title='Mi Familia/My Family'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SxsHgM-qZqI/AAAAAAAAAuw/jVos8ACRnoc/s72-c/Lisa+%26+Rima.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-240455513784641654</id><published>2009-11-11T09:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T10:01:59.816-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='separation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='separación'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (15)  The Planet (15)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SvrQfphRCvI/AAAAAAAAAuM/aZh3lvnq8Dk/s1600-h/crabapple+tree.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SvrQfphRCvI/AAAAAAAAAuM/aZh3lvnq8Dk/s320/crabapple+tree.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402859945124236018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:documentproperties&gt;   &lt;o:template&gt;Normal&lt;/o:Template&gt;   &lt;o:revision&gt;0&lt;/o:Revision&gt;   &lt;o:totaltime&gt;0&lt;/o:TotalTime&gt;   &lt;o:pages&gt;1&lt;/o:Pages&gt;   &lt;o:words&gt;350&lt;/o:Words&gt;   &lt;o:characters&gt;1997&lt;/o:Characters&gt;   &lt;o:lines&gt;16&lt;/o:Lines&gt;   &lt;o:paragraphs&gt;3&lt;/o:Paragraphs&gt;   &lt;o:characterswithspaces&gt;2452&lt;/o:CharactersWithSpaces&gt;   &lt;o:version&gt;11.1282&lt;/o:Version&gt;  &lt;/o:DocumentProperties&gt;  &lt;o:officedocumentsettings&gt;   &lt;o:allowpng/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotshowrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:donotprintrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:"Times New Roman";  panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Palatino;  panose-1:0 2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:14.0pt;  font-family:Palatino;} table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-parent:"";  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--¿Te das cuenta?—dijo la Voz.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--¿Cómo?—respondió Astra, dejando sus pensamientos atrás.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--¿Te das cuenta que lo que ves es&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;espejismo?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--¿Quién habla?—preguntó Astra.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--Soy tu Luz—contestó la Voz.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;–Soy la Luz que reside dentro de ti.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Astra pensó que no tenía su propia luz, sólo era reflejo del Sol.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--Las apariencias no son la verdad.—siguió la Voz.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;–Tu Luz es parte de toda la Luz del Universo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--Pero yo sólo soy una luna conectada a este planeta.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Me imagino que hay millones de planetas con sus millones de lunas girando en el Universo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;--Puede ser, pero eso no quiere decir que tú eres menos o que vales poco.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Tu luz y la Luz del Universo están conectadas.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No hay separación.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mira tu planeta.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Es otoño y las hojas se están cayendo.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cada hoja tiene su viaje y cada hoja forma parte del árbol entero.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Parece que las hojas se separan del árbol, pero no, porque caen a la tierra y allí empiezan a dar nutrición en las raíces del árbol.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;¿Ves?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Todo está conectado.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;En realidad, no hay separación.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Astra no sabía que decir.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Nunca había pensado en tales cosas, pero le gustaba y quería escuchar más.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Continuará.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Do you get it?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;said the Voice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“What?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Astra responded, leaving her thoughts behind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Do you realize that what you see is an illusion?”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Who’s speaking?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Astra asked.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“I am your Light,” answered the Voice.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“I am the Light that resides inside of you.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Astra thought that she didn’t have a light of her own, that she was merely the reflection of the Sun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Appearances are not the truth,” the Voice continued.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Your light is part of all the Light of the Universe.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“But I’m just one moon connected to this planet.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I imagine there are millions of planets with their millions of moons spinning in the Universe.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Could be, but that doesn’t mean you are less or worth little.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Your light and the Light of the Universe are connected.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Look at your planet.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is autumn and the leaves are falling.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Each leaf has its journey and each leaf forms part of the entire tree.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It seems that the leaves are separate from the tree, but they’re not because they fall to the earth and then start to give nutrition back to the roots of the tree.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do you see?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s all connected.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In reality, there is no separation.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Astra didn’t know what to say.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She had never thought about such things, but she liked hearing about them and wanted to hear more.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;To be continued.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;11/11/09&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-240455513784641654?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/240455513784641654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=240455513784641654' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/240455513784641654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/240455513784641654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/11/el-planeta-15-planet-15.html' title='El Planeta (15)  The Planet (15)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SvrQfphRCvI/AAAAAAAAAuM/aZh3lvnq8Dk/s72-c/crabapple+tree.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-815458564104521561</id><published>2009-11-09T09:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T09:26:17.072-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don Miguel Ruiz'/><title type='text'>Una Pausa</title><content type='html'>Words of wisdom that come into my life.  Today we read a card from Don Miguel Ruiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't take anything personally.  Love and respect yourself.  You are never responsible for the actions of others, but you are responsible for you.  If someone is not treating you with love and respect, it is a gift if they walk away from you.  You may be hurt for a while, but your heart will eventually heal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I notice he did not say, "Judge the other person or blame the other person for the way they treat you."  If I do not feel the love and respect from another person that I know I deserve, then I am free to walk away.  I do not need to suffer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I posted this here today because I saw this idea as very freeing.  Whatever someone else does has nothing to do with me.  Wow, I can have total peace all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a deep breath and smile.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;11/9/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-815458564104521561?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/815458564104521561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=815458564104521561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/815458564104521561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/815458564104521561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/11/una-pausa.html' title='Una Pausa'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3139569372626886091</id><published>2009-10-17T13:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T13:38:04.359-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='energy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='energia'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (14), The Planet (14)</title><content type='html'>--Oigan, amigos—dijo Alejandro,  --tendríamos más poder y más influencia en el universo si fuéramos sólo una entidad en vez de millones de piedras pequeñas girando en órbitas chuecas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Chocándose cada rato contra nosotros mismos—dijo otro asteroide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¿Pero qué más nos queda?—preguntó el asteroide número 116.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Hay posibilidades,--dijo Alejandro,--hay muchas posibilidades en el universo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¿Cómo qué?—preguntó el asteroide número 205.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Bueno,--dijo Alejandro, --podríamos ser un planeta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todos empezaron a gritar a la vez.  “¡No es posible!  ¡¿Cómo un planeta?!  ¡Prefiero seguir como somos, separados, individuos!  Etcetera, etcetera.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alejandro trató de calmar los asteroides ruidosos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Déjenme explicar, jóvenes,--dijo, pero no fue fácil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los asteroides siguieron gritando y echando guerra entre ellos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alejandro pensó  “Tiene que haber una manera de juntar toda esta energía y convertirla en algo positivo.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Listen, friends,” said Alexander, “we would have more power and more influence in the universe if we were only one entity instead of millions of tiny rocks spinning in crooked orbits.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Running into each other every second,” said one asteroid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What else can we do?” asked asteroid number 116.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There are possibilities,” said Alexander, “there are lots of possibilities in the universe.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Like what?”  asked asteroid number 205.&lt;br /&gt;“Well,” said Alexander,  “we could become a planet.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone began to shout at once.  “It’s not possible!  What do you mean a planet?!  I want to be separate and individual!  Etc. etc.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexander tried to calm down the noisy asteroids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let me explain, guys,” he said, but it was not easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The asteroids kept on shouting and fighting amongst themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexander thought, “There must be a way to gather this energy and convert it into something positive.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;10/17/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3139569372626886091?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3139569372626886091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3139569372626886091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3139569372626886091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3139569372626886091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/10/el-planeta-14-planet-14.html' title='El Planeta (14), The Planet (14)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-360761758264423298</id><published>2009-09-26T10:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T10:24:42.273-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planeta planet life vida'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (13)/ The Planet (13)</title><content type='html'>¿Qué nos ofrece la vida?  ¿Hay que elegir un camino u otro o simplemente seguir la onda?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay preferencias, elecciones, alternativas y más adelante el “futuro.”&lt;br /&gt;¿El futuro?  No, no puede ser.  El futuro no existe, sólo tenemos este momento.  Este momento Astra anda girando, este momento Astra anda pensando, este momento Astra está contenta, este momento Astra está frustrada, este momento ella ha elegido su modo de ser, su buen humor o su mal humor.  Este momento ha escogido cómo va a actuar.  ¿No es así?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero los demás…los asteroides ruidosos por ejemplo, ¿qué tienen que ver con Astra, tan tranquila, tan elegante, tan fina, tan bella?  ¿Por qué están en su vecindad, casi estorbando su órbita?  Mejor, ¿qué tienen que enseñarle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mientras Astra pensaba que su vida era girar alrededor de su planeta y elevarlo por el resto de la eternidad, los asteroides estaban planeando algo bastante atrevido, bastante nuevo y bastante perjudicial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does life offer us?  Should we choose one path or another or simply follow the road?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are preferences, choices, alternatives and later on the “future.”  The future?  No, it can’t be.  The future doesn’t exist, we only have this moment.  This moment Astra is spinning, this moment Astra is thinking, this moment Astra is happy, this moment Astra is frustrated, this moment she has chosen her way to be, her good mood or bad mood.  This moment she has chosen how she is going to act.  Isn’t that so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the others…the rowdy asteroids for example, what do they have to do with Astra, so calm, so elegant, so fine, so beautiful?  Why are they in her neighborhood, almost getting into her orbit?  Better yet, what do they have to teach her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Astra was thinking that her life was about spinning around her planet and enhancing him for the rest of eternity, the asteroids were planning something quite daring, very cutting edge and quite disruptive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;9/26/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-360761758264423298?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/360761758264423298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=360761758264423298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/360761758264423298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/360761758264423298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-planeta-13-planet-13.html' title='El Planeta (13)/ The Planet (13)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4366410399735204757</id><published>2009-09-20T16:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T17:07:15.478-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='give share love'/><title type='text'>Some Beautiful Thoughts</title><content type='html'>When I am frightened, will you reassure me?&lt;br /&gt;When I'm uncertain, will you hold my hand?&lt;br /&gt;Will you be strong for me? Sing to me quietly?&lt;br /&gt;Will you share some of your stories with me?&lt;br /&gt;If you will show me compassion, then I may learn to care as you do,&lt;br /&gt;then I may learn to care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am angry, will you still embrace me?&lt;br /&gt;When I am thoughtless, will you understand?&lt;br /&gt;Will you believe in me, stand by me willingly?&lt;br /&gt;Will you share some of your questions with me?&lt;br /&gt;If you will show me acceptance, then I may learn to give as you do,&lt;br /&gt;then I may learn to give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am troubled, will you listen to me?&lt;br /&gt;When I am lonely, will you be my friend?&lt;br /&gt;Will you be there for me, comfort me tenderly?&lt;br /&gt;Will you share some of your feelings with me?&lt;br /&gt;If you will show me commitment, then I may learn to love as you do,&lt;br /&gt;then I may learn to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Words by Shelley Jackson Denham&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;9/20/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4366410399735204757?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4366410399735204757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4366410399735204757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4366410399735204757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4366410399735204757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/09/some-beautiful-thoughts.html' title='Some Beautiful Thoughts'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2268469172218292084</id><published>2009-09-19T18:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T18:39:53.280-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amor'/><title type='text'>Una Pausa</title><content type='html'>"La comunicación va volando en el ciberespacio buscando donde caer, buscando hogar, buscando calor, buscando un poco de amor, no mucho, sólo un poco, pero el planeta va girando y todo sigue su onda y quién sabe que quiere decir nada, de hecho, lo más probable es que nada quiere decir nada y todo lo que veo es espejismo, ilusión y así es, así será y no importa realmente, lo que pensamos que es importante no vale ni una pizca, de veras y no es triste ni cómico...simplemente es y hay que aceptar...¿cuánto tiempo nos queda aquí?  Es lo que quiero saber, ¿Cuánto tiempo más tenemos que jugar este juego? Ya estoy cansada, pero ni modo, me toca seguir, esperar qué me va a traer el universo, seguramente me trae algo, no tengo la menor idea pero tiene que ser algo, ¿verdad, amigos?  Abro mi corazón y suelto todo el amor que tengo y se lo mando al mundo entero y así sé que somos uno...somos uno...somos uno."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena...quizá&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2268469172218292084?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2268469172218292084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2268469172218292084' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2268469172218292084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2268469172218292084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/09/una-pausa.html' title='Una Pausa'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3047797787071438160</id><published>2009-09-14T09:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T09:53:28.593-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peacefulness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tranquilidad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vida'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (12)/ The Planet (12)</title><content type='html'>Mientras Astra vivía en un estado de tranquilidad, todo estaba tranquilo.  Su planeta seguía girando, Astra seguía girando alrededor de su planeta observando los cambios de día y noche, de frío y calor y de clima nublado y despejado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero, ¿ahora qué?  Astra se encontraba pensando en su futuro, bueno, en un futuro imaginario. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Simplemente voy a girar sola el resto de mi existencia sin ninguna razón, sin hacer nada interesante, sin tener ninguna experiencia emocionante.  ¿Eso es vida?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suspiró.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me falta algo", pensó, "pero no sé qué".  Otra vez la inquietud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sus pensamientos ahora eran preguntas, preguntas sin respuestas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"¿Qué pasará?  ¿Por qué estoy aquí?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y así siguió otro millón de años.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as Astra lived in a state of peacefulness, everything was peaceful.  Her planet kept on spinning, Astra kept on spinning around her planet observing the changes of day and night, of cold and warmth, of cloudy weather and clear weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now what?  Astra found herself thinking about her future, well, an imaginary future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am simply going to spin alone the rest of my existence, with no reason, without doing anything interesting, without having any exciting experiences.  That’s a life?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Something is missing", she thought, "but I don’t know what". Once again restlessness.  Now her thoughts were questions, questions without answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder what will happen.  Why am I here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she continued like this for another million years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;9/14/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3047797787071438160?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3047797787071438160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3047797787071438160' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3047797787071438160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3047797787071438160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-planeta-12-planet-12.html' title='El Planeta (12)/ The Planet (12)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7736880702212047268</id><published>2009-08-31T15:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T15:55:47.727-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luna moon planet planeta'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (11)/ The Planet (11)</title><content type='html'>Entonces Astra decidió contemplar lo que le decía Alejandro y para hacerlo sabía que era necesario ponerse a meditar otra vez.  Le costó mucho trabajo al principio calmar sus pensamientos negativos pero se empeñó en el intento y después de unos quinientos mil años logró en sentirse más tranquila.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poco a poco lo negativo se remplazaba con lo positivo y Astra creció en sabiduría.  Se dio cuenta de muchas cosas.  Primero se dio cuenta que no era víctima del universo, que era fuerte, lista y que nadie podía quitarle de su lugar como luna del planeta Pleno Verde.  Segundo se dio cuenta que los asteroides solamente andaban haciendo lo suyo y en realidad no le hacían ningún daño.  Los cráteres en su superficie eran precisamente eso, “cráteres en su superficie” porque no tocaban su esencia.  Los asteroides no podían cambiar el amor que Astra traía adentro, esa presencia del Amor en su corazón que siempre ha tenido y que siempre iba a tener.  Cuando Astra contemplaba estas cosas, empezó a ver todo distinto.  El sol brillaba más fuerte, su planeta ya no tenía aquella nube gris alrededor y ella podía ver las montañas verdes y los bosques y los lagos del planeta.  Con estos cambios le llegó la alegría a Astra y otra vez pudo sonreír.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Astra decided to think about what Alexander was telling her and in order to do that she knew it was necessary to begin to meditate again.  It was very hard at the beginning to quiet her negative thoughts but she persisted in doing it and after about five hundred thousand years she succeeded in feeling calmer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little by little the negative was replaced by the positive and Astra grew in wisdom.  She realized many things.  First she realized that she wasn’t a victim of the universe, that she was strong and smart and no one could take away her place as moon of the planet (Holy Green).  Next she realized that the asteroids just went around doing their own thing and in reality did her no harm.  The craters on her surface were just that, “craters on her surface,” because they did not touch her essence.  The asteroids could not change the love that Astra carried inside, that presence of Love in her heart that she always had and would always have.  When Astra contemplated these things, she began to see everything differently.  The sun shone brighter, her planet no longer had that gray cloud cover and she could see the green mountains and the forests and the lakes of her planet.  With these changes joy appeared to Astra and she was able to smile again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/31/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7736880702212047268?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7736880702212047268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7736880702212047268' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7736880702212047268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7736880702212047268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/08/el-planeta-11-planet-11.html' title='El Planeta (11)/ The Planet (11)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6632160682056441445</id><published>2009-08-26T13:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T13:41:55.093-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='juzgar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='judge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amiga'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (10)/ The Planet (10)</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:documentproperties&gt;   &lt;o:template&gt;Normal&lt;/o:Template&gt;   &lt;o:revision&gt;0&lt;/o:Revision&gt;   &lt;o:totaltime&gt;0&lt;/o:TotalTime&gt;   &lt;o:pages&gt;1&lt;/o:Pages&gt;   &lt;o:words&gt;352&lt;/o:Words&gt;   &lt;o:characters&gt;2009&lt;/o:Characters&gt;   &lt;o:lines&gt;16&lt;/o:Lines&gt;   &lt;o:paragraphs&gt;4&lt;/o:Paragraphs&gt;   &lt;o:characterswithspaces&gt;2467&lt;/o:CharactersWithSpaces&gt;   &lt;o:version&gt;11.1282&lt;/o:Version&gt;  &lt;/o:DocumentProperties&gt;  &lt;o:officedocumentsettings&gt;   &lt;o:allowpng/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotshowrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:donotprintrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:"Times New Roman";  panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Palatino;  panose-1:0 2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:14.0pt;  font-family:Palatino;} table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-parent:"";  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Mientras Astra seguía sufriendo, un día llegó Alejandro…&lt;i&gt;para el&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt; &lt;i&gt;colmo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt; pensó Astra.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;--Hola, Astra, ¿qué tal, amiga?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;--No soy tu “amiga,”—contestó Astra con un tono de impaciencia.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;--Uy, qué mal humor, pero no lo voy a tomar personalmente.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sé que somos parte de todo el universo y tú y yo somos perfectos.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;En ese momento Alejandro le dio una sonrisa muy ancha a Astra.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;--Mira, asteroide, hace muuuuuucho tiempo yo pensaba como tú, pero ahora me doy cuenta que no es cierto.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yo no soy parte de aquellos asteroides que cada rato me pegan y dejan cráteres en mi superficie, y no tuve nada que ver con la nube gris que ahora cubre mi hermosa planeta, y además me siento muy infeliz.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;--Ah, ya sé, Astra, empezaste a juzgar y a crear un universo hostil.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Le echas la culpa a los demás por tu sentido de humor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Piensas que los asteroides son responsables por tu felicidad.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Si sigues pensando así te vas a enfermar.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;--¿Cómo?—preguntó Astra.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;--Así pasa.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Te lo digo porque yo pasé por eso pero mi abuelo me explicó todo y me dijo que si yo actuara con mi corazón y perdonara a los demás, entonces toda mi vida cambiaría.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Astra se puso a pensar.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;¿Será la verdad? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;se preguntó.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Continuará.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;While Astra was suffering, one day Alexander arrived…&lt;i&gt;to top it off, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Astra thought.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Hi, Astra, what’s up my friend?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“I’m not your ‘friend,’” Astra answered in an impatient manner.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Oh, what a bad mood, but I’m not taking it personally.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I know that we are part of the whole universe and you and I are perfect.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;At that point Alexander gave Astra a big wide grin.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Look, asteroid, a looooooong time ago I thought like you, but now I see that it’s not true.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am not part of those asteroids who bang into me all the time and leave craters on my surface, and I had nothing to do with that grey cloud that now covers my beautiful planet, and besides, I’m miserable.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“Oh, I get it, Astra, you’ve begun to judge and to create a hostile universe.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You blame everyone else for your bad mood.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You think that the asteroids are responsible for your happiness.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you keep on thinking like that, you’re going to get sick.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“What?!” Astra asked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;“That’s the way it goes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I tell you this because I went through that, but my grandfather explained everything to me and he told me that if I act from my heart and forgive others, then my whole life would change.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Astra started to think.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;Could that be true, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;she wondered?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;To be continued.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;8/26/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6632160682056441445?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6632160682056441445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6632160682056441445' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6632160682056441445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6632160682056441445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/08/el-planeta-10-planet-10.html' title='El Planeta (10)/ The Planet (10)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1015447563742862102</id><published>2009-08-19T12:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T12:16:42.036-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='caos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pray'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luna moon planet planeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chaos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rezar'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (9)/ The Planet (9)</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:documentproperties&gt;   &lt;o:template&gt;Normal&lt;/o:Template&gt;   &lt;o:revision&gt;0&lt;/o:Revision&gt;   &lt;o:totaltime&gt;0&lt;/o:TotalTime&gt;   &lt;o:pages&gt;1&lt;/o:Pages&gt;   &lt;o:words&gt;373&lt;/o:Words&gt;   &lt;o:characters&gt;2128&lt;/o:Characters&gt;   &lt;o:lines&gt;17&lt;/o:Lines&gt;   &lt;o:paragraphs&gt;4&lt;/o:Paragraphs&gt;   &lt;o:characterswithspaces&gt;2613&lt;/o:CharactersWithSpaces&gt;   &lt;o:version&gt;11.1282&lt;/o:Version&gt;  &lt;/o:DocumentProperties&gt;  &lt;o:officedocumentsettings&gt;   &lt;o:allowpng/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotshowrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:donotprintrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:"Times New Roman";  panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Palatino;  panose-1:0 2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:14.0pt;  font-family:Palatino;} table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-parent:"";  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cuando Astra dejó de meditar, sin darse cuenta empezó a crear un ego que le cubría como una sombra venenosa.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Este ego estaba lleno de pensamientos negativos y sus pensamientos le infectaban a Astra pero ella pensaba que eran sus propios pensamientos y no los del ego.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Entonces, Astra comenzó a sentir frustraciones, fastidios, enojos, impaciencia, juicios, miedos, disgustos, odios….y bueno, la lista seguía y seguía.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Su mundo cambió bastante.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;En vez de tener paz y tranquilidad en su vida, había caos y Astra ya no podía ver bien su planeta, el planeta donde había nacido.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Había una nube gruesa y gris alrededor de Pleno Verde.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cada rato llegaban dos o tres asteroides que salían de su órbita para caer o rebotar en el superficie de Astra haciendo cráteres feos que le causaban mucha ansiedad a Astra.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pasaron los años.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Astra estaba tan agotada que un día se le ocurrió rezar.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por favor, Universo grande y potente, antes sabía que yo era parte de todo, del cielo, de mi planeta, y del sol.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ahora, parece que estoy muy separada de todo, que no tengo nada que ver con el caos que encuentro en mi vida, que todo me llega para fastidiarme y causarme dolor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;¿Por qué pasa esto?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;¿Qué tengo que hacer para que todo cambie?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cualquier ayuda sería muy apreciada.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Gracias.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Continuará.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When Astra stopped meditating, without realizing it she began to create an ego that covered her like a poisonous shadow.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;This ego was full of negative thoughts and its thoughts infected Astra but she thought that they were her own thoughts and not those of the ego.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So Astra began to feel frustrations, annoyances, angers, impatience, judgments, fears, dislikes, hates…and well, the list went on and on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her world changed quite a bit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Instead of having peace and tranquility in her life, there was chaos and Astra could no longer see her planet, the planet that birthed her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was a thick grey cloud around Wholly Green.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Every now and then two or three asteroids went out of their orbit and fell or bounced on her making ugly craters that caused Astra much anxiety.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The years went by.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Astra became so jaded that one day it occurred to her to pray.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Please, big and great Universe, before I knew I was part of everything, the sky, my planet and the sun.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now it seems that I am separate from everything, that I have nothing to do with the chaos I find in my life, that everything just comes to annoy me and cause me pain.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why is this happening?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What do I have to do to make it change?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Any help would be greatly appreciated.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thank you.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;To be continued.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;8/19/09&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1015447563742862102?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1015447563742862102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1015447563742862102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1015447563742862102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1015447563742862102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/08/el-planeta-9-planet-9.html' title='El Planeta (9)/ The Planet (9)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-8580398578324802768</id><published>2009-08-16T19:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T19:24:53.123-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luna moon planet planeta'/><title type='text'>El Planeta (8)/ The Planet (8)</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:documentproperties&gt;   &lt;o:template&gt;Normal&lt;/o:Template&gt;   &lt;o:revision&gt;0&lt;/o:Revision&gt;   &lt;o:totaltime&gt;0&lt;/o:TotalTime&gt;   &lt;o:pages&gt;1&lt;/o:Pages&gt;   &lt;o:words&gt;410&lt;/o:Words&gt;   &lt;o:characters&gt;2340&lt;/o:Characters&gt;   &lt;o:lines&gt;19&lt;/o:Lines&gt;   &lt;o:paragraphs&gt;4&lt;/o:Paragraphs&gt;   &lt;o:characterswithspaces&gt;2873&lt;/o:CharactersWithSpaces&gt;   &lt;o:version&gt;11.1282&lt;/o:Version&gt;  &lt;/o:DocumentProperties&gt;  &lt;o:officedocumentsettings&gt;   &lt;o:allowpng/&gt;  &lt;/o:OfficeDocumentSettings&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:donotshowrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:donotprintrevisions/&gt;   &lt;w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery&gt;0&lt;/w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery&gt;   &lt;w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:"Times New Roman";  panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Palatino;  panose-1:0 2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:14.0pt;  font-family:Palatino;} table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-parent:"";  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;  &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Durante este tiempo Astra no meditó.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Había empezado a meditar con regularidad, pero después de conseguir su nombre, el nombre que Alejandro le puso, se le olvidó por completo la idea de meditar.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hubieron otros cambios también en su universo, cambios en la superficie de su planeta, Pleno Verde.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ahora tenía más montañas, volcanes activos, lagos ardiendo de lava, selvas enormes con árboles gigantescos y parras gruesas y fuertes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Astra miraba estos cambios con asombro porque en su superficie no crecía nada; estaba hecha de polvo y rocas y nada más.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cómo quería tener un lago para sentir la frescura del agua, pero no, no era su destino.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Después de acostumbrarse a tener a Alejandro girando debajo de ella, ya que sentía un poco cómoda con su vida así, otra vez todo cambió y en un momento.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Una mañana Astra oyó gritos y desde lejos vio un grupo de asteroides ruidosos arribando cerca de su órbita.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Se dio cuenta que Alejandro los conocía porque pudo escuchar una conversación entre él y los asteroides.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Esta es &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mi&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; órbita&lt;/span&gt; pensó Astra,&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No tienen derecho de estar molestando, estos asteroides tontos, además no son ni lunas ni planetas ni nada fino, son una bola de piedras feas y chuecas, y echan a perder todo con su alboroto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Por primera vez en su existencia, Astra empezó a llorar y sus lágrimas cayeron en su planeta creando charcos en la tierra. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Continuará.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;During this time Astra did not meditate.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She had started to meditate regularly, but after getting her name, the name that Alexander gave her, she completely forgot about meditating.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were other changes also in her universe, changes in the surface of her planet, Holy (Wholly) Green.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now it had more mountains, active volcanos, lakes burning with lava, enormous jungles with gigantic trees and thick, strong vines.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Astra watched these changes with surprise because on her surface nothing grew; she was made of dust and rocks and nothing else.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How she wanted to have a lake in order to feel the freshness of the water, but no, it was not to be.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After getting used to having Alexander in her life spinning underneath her, now that she felt comfortable with her life this way, again everything changed and in a heartbeat.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One morning Astra heard shouts and from far away saw a group of rowdy asteroids arriving near her orbit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She realized that Alexander knew them because she could hear a conversation between him and the asteroids.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This is my orbit, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;thought Astra, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;they have no right to be causing trouble, those stupid asteroids, besides they’re not even moons or planets or anything elegant, they’re just a bunch of ugly crooked rocks and they ruin everything with their ruckus.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For the first time in her existence, Astra began to cry and her tears fell onto her planet creating puddles on the ground.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;To be continued.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;8/16/09&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-8580398578324802768?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/8580398578324802768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=8580398578324802768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8580398578324802768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8580398578324802768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/08/el-planeta-8-planet-8.html' title='El Planeta (8)/ The Planet (8)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-8230074871614040232</id><published>2009-08-11T07:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T08:00:16.354-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nombre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='name'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moon'/><title type='text'>El Planeta, (7)/ The Planet, (7)</title><content type='html'>De repente se acordó del nombre que Alejandro le había prometido.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;¿Qué nombre me&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;encontraría?&lt;/span&gt;  pensó la pequeña luna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En aquel instante la luna vio que Alejandro, el asteroide se le acercaba y con mucha fuerza como siempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¡Ya sé!—le gritó.  –Tu nombre será Astra, porque vienes de las estrellas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La luna sonrió.  –Astra…pues, me gusta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entonces Astra empezó a girar un poquito más rápido por la felicidad que sentía de tener su propio nombre.  Pensaba que ahora era especial, un poco mejor que una estrella cualquiera, mejor que cualquier asteroide que giraba debajo de ella, mejor aun que otra luna en el universo girando cerca de su planeta.  Con el nombre tenía orgullo, belleza, gracia, e inteligencia.  Bueno, eso creía.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así anduvo Astra luciendo su nuevo nombre por otro millón de años.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly she remembered about the name that Alexander had promised her.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What name would&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he find for me?&lt;/span&gt;  the little moon thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that instant the moon saw that Alexander, the asteroid was approaching her and with a lot of force as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I got it!” he shouted.  “Your name will be Astra because you come from the stars.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moon smiled.  “Astra…hmm, I like it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Astra began to spin a little faster because of the happiness she felt at having her own name.  She thought that now she was special, a little better than any old star, better than any old asteroid that was whirling underneath her, even better than another moon in the universe spinning near its planet.  With a name she had pride, beauty, grace and intelligence.  At least that’s what she thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astra went around showing off her new name for another million years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/11/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-8230074871614040232?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/8230074871614040232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=8230074871614040232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8230074871614040232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8230074871614040232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/08/el-planeta-7-planet-7.html' title='El Planeta, (7)/ The Planet, (7)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4281633861832129096</id><published>2009-08-03T11:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T11:07:46.994-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Meditation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dominion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dominio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditacion'/><title type='text'>El Planeta, (6)/ The Planet (6)</title><content type='html'>Ah, nuestra pequeña luna creía que quería aventura en su vida, pero la aventura no siempre es como uno la imagina.  Ahora que llegó Alejandro, el asteroide, la luna tenía que andar con mucho cuidado porque la órbita de Alejandro era bastante errática y por poco le chocaba a la luna cada rato.  La tranquilidad para la luna era algo del pasado.  Además Alejandro no se decidía qué órbita seguir y andaba probando varias, por ejemplo, andaba en una órbita por más o menos diez mil años, después cambiaba a otra por otros diez mil años, luego escogía otra órbita, así que la pobre luna no sabía que esperar y se pasaba la vida bien confundida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fue por eso que la luna hizo una decisión.  Decidió empezar a meditar, pensando que con la meditación iba a encontrar la tranquilidad otra vez.  Esperó hasta que vio que Alejandro estaba probando una órbita un poco más lejos de ella y empezó a poner atención en su respiración y calmar sus pensamientos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pasaron muchos años para que la mente de ella se calmara, pero por fin se tranquilizó y comenzó a darse cuenta de muchas cosas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;La confusión parece decir que los eventos en la vida tienen dominio sobre uno mismo, que los eventos traen alegría o tristeza, dolor o paz, miedo o seguridad, peligro, frustración, etc. pero no es así.  Cada uno tiene dominio sobre sus experiencias porque cada uno ha escogido su experiencia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Si eso es cierto&lt;/span&gt;, pensó la luna, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yo escogí tener la experiencia que tengo ahora con Alejandro en mi vida…y si no me gusta tener esta experiencia, tengo que escoger otra.  Pero, la pregunta es:  ¿Soy capaz de escoger otra experiencia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, our little moon thought she wanted adventure in her life, but adventure isn’t always the way one might imagine it.  Now that Alexander, the asteroid had arrived, the moon had to be very careful because Alexander’s orbit was quite erratic and he almost ran into her often.  Serenity for the moon was a thing of the past.  Besides, Alexander couldn’t make up his mind which orbit to follow and so went around trying out various orbits.  For example, he would follow one orbit for about ten thousand years, then change to another one for another ten thousand years, then choose another orbit, so that the poor moon didn’t know what to expect and spent her life really confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For that reason the moon made a decision.  She decided to start to meditate, thinking that with meditation she would find peace again.  She waited until she saw that Alexander was trying out an orbit a little farther away from her and began to put attention on her breath and calm her thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years went by before she was able to slow down her thinking, but finally she settled down and began to realize many things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Confusion seems to say that the events in life have dominion over oneself, that events bring happiness or sadness, pain or peace, fear or safety, danger, frustration, etc. but that’s not true.  Each one of us has dominion over our experiences because each one has chosen the experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If that’s true&lt;/span&gt;, thought the moon, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;then I chose to have the experience that I’m having now with Alexander in my life…and if I don’t like the experience, I have to choose another one.  But the question is: Am I able to choose another experience?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/3/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4281633861832129096?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4281633861832129096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4281633861832129096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4281633861832129096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4281633861832129096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/08/el-planeta-6-planet-6.html' title='El Planeta, (6)/ The Planet (6)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-9115447459082210451</id><published>2009-07-31T10:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T10:36:21.181-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holy green'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wholly green'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no sé'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I don&apos;t know'/><title type='text'>El Planeta, (5), The Planet, (5)</title><content type='html'>¡Aaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¡Bum….bum……pas!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Uf, perdón, es que no te vi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La pequeña luna trató de entender lo que acaba de pasar.  Sintió un dolor fuerte en su superficie, pero no duró, se desapareció en seguida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Ay, no es fácil ponerme en órbita otra vez.  Estoy un poco mareado, pero voy a intentar.  Y tú, ¿cómo te llamas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La pequeña luna no sabía que decir.  Por fin pudo contestar con una pregunta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¿Cómo me llamo?  Pues, no sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Jajajajajajajajajajaja, soy Alejandro a tus órdenes, pequeña “Nosé.”--  Se rió de nuevo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¿Por qué te ries?—preguntó la pequeña luna.  Soy joven, no tengo mucho tiempo aquí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Mira “Nosé,” soy un asteroide y acabo de salir de la órbita de un grupo de asteroides porque estaba yo &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bien&lt;/span&gt; aburrido.  Quería ver qué más hay en este universo y me tropecé contigo.  Me parece que estás apegada a este planeta, Pleno Verde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¿Dices que mi planeta se llama “Pleno Verde?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Claro, a poco no sabías el nombre de tu planeta, “Nosé.”  ¿Cúanto tiempo llevas orbitándolo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Tres millones de años…no, más tiempo…pues francamente no me acuerdo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Sólo unos pocos millones de años, con razón no sabes nada, eso es muy poco, “Nosé.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Oye, Alejandro, puede ser que no sé mucho pero no me gusta que me llames “Nosé.”  Es impertinente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Bueno, no te enojes, vamos a encontrarte un nombre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La pequeña luna sonrió por primera vez pensando que iba a tener su propio nombre.  De repente su vida ya no era tan aburrida desde que llegó Alejandro, el asteroide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bam…..bam….plunk!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little moon tried to understand what just happened.  She felt a strong pain on her surface but it didn’t last, rather it disappeared quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, it’s not easy getting myself back into orbit again.  I’m a little dizzy, but I’ll try.  So, what’s your name?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little moon didn’t know what to say.  Finally she managed to answer with a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What’s my name?  Well, I don’t know.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hahahahahahaha, I am Alexander at your service, little ‘I don’t know.’”  He laughed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why are you laughing?”  asked the little moon.  "I’m young, I haven’t been here very long.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Look, ‘I don’t know’, I’m an asteroid and I just came out of the orbit of a group of asteroids because I was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;totally&lt;/span&gt; bored.  I wanted to see what else is going on in this universe and I ran into you.  It seems to me that you are connected to this planet, Wholly Green.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Are you saying that my planet is called Holy Green?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Of course, you mean you didn’t know the name of your planet, ‘I don’t know’?  How long have you been orbiting here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Three million years, no, longer…well, frankly I don’t remember.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Only a few million years, no wonder you don’t know anything, that’s so little time, ‘I don’t know.’”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Listen, Alexander, maybe I don’t know much but I don’t like you calling me ‘I don’t know.’  It’s rude.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Okay, don’t get mad, we’ll find you a name.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little moon smiled for the first time knowing that she was going to have her own name.  Suddenly her life was not so boring since Alexander, the asteroid showed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;7/31/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-9115447459082210451?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/9115447459082210451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=9115447459082210451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/9115447459082210451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/9115447459082210451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/07/el-planeta-5-planet-5.html' title='El Planeta, (5), The Planet, (5)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4019520839850874311</id><published>2009-07-23T10:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T10:59:16.035-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luna planet moon planeta day night dia noche'/><title type='text'>El Planeta, (4)/ The Planet, (4)</title><content type='html'>La pequeña luna seguía su órbita  alrededor de su planeta como si fuera una hija obediente, pero le entró un sentido de aburrimiento y se puso a pensar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Desde que llegó esa estrella nada ha cambiado.  Todo sigue igual y no sé qué estoy haciendo, qué propósito tengo, de qué sirvo girando todo el tiempo.  Aquella estrella llegó a una distancia y allí se queda.  Nos calienta a mí y a mi planeta y nos da luz cuando estoy en este lado y cuando giro al otro lado estoy en la oscuridad.  ¿Es todo?  ¿Luz y oscuridad?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De repente le llegó esta idea:  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;día y noche.  Cuando me calienta y veo la luz es el día y cuando estoy en el otro lado y no veo porque no hay luz, es la noche.&lt;/span&gt;  Se contentó la luna con esto por sólo un rato.  Otra vez empezó a aburrirse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;¡Ay de mí!  Lo mismo, lo mismo, lo mismo.  Quisiera tener una aventura, o por lo menos algo nuevo.  ¿Es mucho pedir?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little moon continued her orbit around the planet as if she were an obedient child but she began to be bored and started to think:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Since that star arrived nothing has changed.  Everything continues the same and I don’t know what I’m doing, what purpose I have, what use I am spinning all the time.  That star arrived at a distance and just stays there.  He warms us, me and my planet when I’m on this side and when I spin on the other side I’m in darkness.  Is that it?  Light and darkness?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly she got an idea:  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;day and night.  When I’m warm and see the light it’s day and when I’m on the other side and I don’t see because there is no light, it’s night.&lt;/span&gt;  The little moon was happy with this for just a bit.  Later on she began to get bored again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Alas!  The same, the same, the same.  I would like to have an adventure, or at least something new.  Is that a lot to ask?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;7/23/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4019520839850874311?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4019520839850874311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4019520839850874311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4019520839850874311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4019520839850874311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/07/el-planeta-4-planet-4.html' title='El Planeta, (4)/ The Planet, (4)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-8291200437162452081</id><published>2009-07-17T14:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T14:30:24.827-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moon'/><title type='text'>El Planeta, (3)/The Planet, (3)</title><content type='html'>Los años pasaban como si fueran segundos y la pequeña luna cambiaba también.  Empezó a pensar en cosas que no podía ver pero sabía que existían, cosas como la alegría, el amor y la luz.  Sabía que sentía amor por su planeta, que girar alrededor de él le daba alegría y aunque estaba en la oscuridad, la luz sí existía en algún lado.  Pensando en la luz poco a poco sentía un cambio en su superficie y desde muy lejos llegó a ver un punto de algo, ah, pronto se dio cuenta que era una estrella y aquella estrella se le estaba acercando.  Cada momento la pequeña luna sentía más calor en su cuerpo y ahora podía ver su planeta bastante claro y en ese momento sabía que ella era parte de todo, parte del planeta y parte de la estrella a la vez.  Al comprender esto, la alegría le crecía aun más en el corazón de la pequeña luna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The years went by as if they were seconds and the little moon was changing too.  She began to think on things that she couldn’t see but knew existed, things like happiness, love and light.  She knew that she felt love for her planet, that spinning around him made her happy and even though she was in darkness, light existed somewhere.  Pondering the light gradually she felt a change in her surface and from very far away she began to notice a point of something, oh, soon she realized it was a star and that star was getting closer to her.  Each moment the little moon felt her body warmer and now she could see her planet more clearly and in that moment she knew that she was part of everything, part of the planet and part of the star at the same time.  Upon understanding this, the little moon’s heart filled up with happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To be continued.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;7/17/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-8291200437162452081?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/8291200437162452081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=8291200437162452081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8291200437162452081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8291200437162452081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/07/el-planeta-3the-planet-3.html' title='El Planeta, (3)/The Planet, (3)'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-5405886067089788916</id><published>2009-07-09T13:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T12:42:14.853-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planet moon luna'/><title type='text'>El Planeta/ The Planet</title><content type='html'>Pasó un millón de años.  Durante ese tiempo los bordes de la pequeña luna se hacían menos agudos y poco a poco se convertía en una esfera bastante redonda, y seguía girando en la oscuridad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mientras giraba, la pequeña luna pensaba en su motivo de ser, su “raison d’etre” y le llegaban muchas preguntas, preguntas como &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;¿Qué significa este planeta que veo cuando estoy girando cerca de él?  ¿Qué significan estos asteroides que giran debajo de mí y por poco chocan contra mi cuerpo?  ¿Y yo?  ¿Tengo significancia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seguía su órbita rumiando las preguntas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durante el próximo millón de años, de vez en cuando los asteroides salían de su órbita y caían en el planeta con el resultado de crear valles hondos y montañas altas de rocas y polvo.  Algunas veces los asteroides rebotaban desde el planeta para caer en la luna creando cráteres en ella.  A la pequeña luna no le gustaba nada de eso pero seguía su órbita sin quejarse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A million years went by.  During this time the edges of the little moon became less sharp and gradually she was changed into a very round sphere, and she kept on spinning in the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While she was spinning, the little moon was thinking about her purpose, her “raison d’etre” and she had many questions, questions like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What does this planet mean that I am spinning around?  What do these asteroids mean spinning underneath me nearly hitting me?  What about me?  Do I mean anything?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She continued her orbit pondering these questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the next million years, once in awhile the asteroids went out of their orbit and fell on the planet causing deep valleys and high mountains made of rock and dust.  Sometimes the asteroids bounced off the planet and fell on the moon creating craters in it.  The little moon did not like any of this but she kept on orbiting without complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;7/9/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-5405886067089788916?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/5405886067089788916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=5405886067089788916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5405886067089788916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5405886067089788916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/07/el-planeta-planet.html' title='El Planeta/ The Planet'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3473405549128230783</id><published>2009-07-03T17:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T17:30:49.384-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luna'/><title type='text'>El Planeta</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Había una vez en el espacio mucho muy lejos y en una epoca muy antigua un planeta pequeño a punto de nacer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Aquel “planeta” no era más que piedras, cráteres y tierra.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No había seres humanos, ni animales ni microbios aun.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ese planeta acababa de salir de una roca tan grande que giraba tan fuerte que ese pedacito de futuro planeta se rompió de repente y empezó a girar en una órbita aparte.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Todavía su forma no era completamente redonda e giraba en una órbita bastante errática.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A causa de esa órbita chueca otro pedacito de planeta, (si uno puede llamarlo “planeta”) se rompió y comenzó a girar alrededor del pequeño planeta como su luna.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Esa “luna” no era reflejo del sol porque todavía no había llegado el sol para formar parte de ese nuevo sistema solar.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Así comenzó la historia de la luna inquieta.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Continuará.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;7/3/09&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3473405549128230783?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3473405549128230783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3473405549128230783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3473405549128230783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3473405549128230783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/07/el-planeta.html' title='El Planeta'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7830613338175098370</id><published>2009-06-25T14:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T14:55:42.080-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor love'/><title type='text'>Cuando soy el amor/When I am love</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cuando soy el amor todo alrededor de mí es amor.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Salgo de la casa, camino hacia el centro.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Los taxistas me dan el paso, la gente me sonrie y parece que todo el mundo se acaba de bañarse con el mismo jabón.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Llego al banco, entro y tomo la etiqueta con el número que indica el orden de servicio.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mi número es el próximo.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Me siento treinta segundos cuando mucho y me llaman.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;La cajera me atiende con una sonrisa y contesta mis preguntas.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Me voy contenta.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Regreso a casa mandando bendiciones a toda la gente que paso.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cuando soy el amor todo alrededor de mí es amor.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Así es.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I am love, everything around me is love.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I leave the house and walk toward downtown.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The taxi drivers let me pass in front of them, people smile at me and it seems that everyone has bathed with the same soap today.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I arrive at the bank, I enter and take the slip of paper with a number that tells me the order in which I will be able to do my banking.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My number is next.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I sit for maybe thirty seconds when my number is called.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The teller waits on me with a smile and answers my questions.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I leave happy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I go back home sending blessings to the people I pass.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I am love, everything around me is love.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s the way it is.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;6/25/09&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7830613338175098370?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7830613338175098370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7830613338175098370' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7830613338175098370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7830613338175098370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/06/cuando-soy-el-amorwhen-i-am-love.html' title='Cuando soy el amor/When I am love'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2033751772236513179</id><published>2009-06-19T11:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T11:40:43.777-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preguntas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='answers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='respuestas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><title type='text'>Preguntas/ Questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Dónde estoy?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;¿Estoy aquí?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;¿Dónde está “aquí?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Dónde está “allá?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Puedo estar “allá” si estoy “aquí?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Qué es la mente?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Es un hueco que lleno con pensamientos míos?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Son “míos” los pensamientos que llegan a la mente o es simplemente actividad del cerebro que se hace como el estómago cuando digiere la comida, o la sangre que corre por las venas?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;(Todo eso sin mi conciencia).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Si los pensamientos son solo una actividad del cerebro, ¿debo hacerles caso?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Debo creerlos?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Dónde está la mente?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;¿Es la mente igual que el cerebro?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cuando estoy creando algo ¿qué funciona, la mente o el cerebro…o los dos?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Qué soy?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Soy solo un montón de huesos, músculos, dientes, venas, pelo, uñas, sangre, piel?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;¿Sólo un cuerpo?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Existo sin el cuerpo?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Para mí, estas preguntas son interesantes de contemplar.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;De hecho, paso bastante tiempo contemplando preguntas como estas—y aun más.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Llego a encontrar respuestas a algunas de estas preguntas, pero creo que mis respuestas pueden ser distintas a las respuestas de otra gente.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;¿Y tú?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;¿Tienes respuestas a estas preguntas?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Me interesa saber.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Questions&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Where am I?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Am I “here?”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Where is “here?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Where is “there?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Can I be “there” if I am “here?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;What is the mind?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Is it a hollow thing that I fill with my thoughts?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Are the thoughts that show up in my mind mine, or are they simply brain activity like the stomach when it digests food or the blood that runs through my veins?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;(All of this happens without my awareness).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;If thoughts are just brain activity, should I pay attention to them?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Should I believe them?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Where is the mind?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Is it the same thing as the brain?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I create something what is functioning, the brain or the mind?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Or both?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;What am I?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Am I just a pile of bones, muscles, teeth, veins, hair, fingernails, blood, skin?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Just a body?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Do I exist without the body?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;These questions I find interesting to contemplate.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In fact, I spend a lot of time contemplating these kinds of questions and even more.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I arrive at answers to some of the questions, but I think my answers could be different from the answers of others.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;What about you?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Do you have answers to these questions?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;I would like to know.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt;6/19/09&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2033751772236513179?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2033751772236513179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2033751772236513179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2033751772236513179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2033751772236513179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/06/preguntas-questions.html' title='Preguntas/ Questions'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1184505660858203063</id><published>2009-06-11T13:30:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T13:45:56.228-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Y ahora...And now...</title><content type='html'>Y ahora la prueba...aléjate de ti mismo un poco y observa, observa lo que la mente hace.  Observa sus juicios, sus comparaciones, sus gustos y sus disgustos.  Acuérdate que no tienes que creer tus pensamientos.  La mayoria de ellos no son ciertos.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;¿Piensas en el pasado o brincas al futuro?  El pasado, no hay y ¿el futuro?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;¿Dónde está eso?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now here is the test.  Step back and observe, observe what the mind does.  Observe its judgments, comparisons, likes and dislikes.  Remember, you don't have to believe your thoughts. Most of them are not true anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you think on the past or jump to the future?  There is no past, and the future?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where is that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6/11/09&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1184505660858203063?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1184505660858203063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1184505660858203063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1184505660858203063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1184505660858203063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/06/y-ahoraand-now.html' title='Y ahora...And now...'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2654275572083852078</id><published>2009-06-04T16:57:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T17:00:50.756-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace love Eternal forgiveness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><title type='text'>Lesson 82--The light of the world brings peace to every mind through my forgiveness.</title><content type='html'>(Thoughts that came to me while being still)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be kind and loving to every living thing, even inanimate objects.  Know that they also have light, the light of the world.  For every question the answer is love, always, now and eternally.  How to forgive is to love; this is not ego's brand of love with conditions and expectations, but love that comes from the Self, the One, the Eternal, everlasting and unconditional.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2654275572083852078?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2654275572083852078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2654275572083852078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2654275572083852078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2654275572083852078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/06/lesson-82-light-of-world-brings-peace.html' title='Lesson 82--The light of the world brings peace to every mind through my forgiveness.'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-555771495262853320</id><published>2009-06-01T10:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T10:25:46.507-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poema'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorpresa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='canción'/><title type='text'>¡Sorpresa!</title><content type='html'>Esta semana hacía falta un himno para el servicio de las nueve en mi iglesia.  El coro ya tenía planeado cantar en el servicio de las once.  Entonces, durante el ensayo del jueves el director nos preguntó si alguien tenía algo que podía hacer para el servicio de las nueve.  Fue algo así:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El director:  ¿Alguien tiene algo que quiere cantar para el servicio de las nueve?  Puede ser un poema o una canción, o algo.  ¿Lorena?  Tú compones canciones.  ¿Tienes algo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo:  Eh, a ver, déjame pensarlo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El director:  Está bien….¿ya lo pensaste?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Todos se rien).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo:  Pues, creo que sí.  ¿Cuál es el tema del sermón para este domingo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El director:  La pastora va a hablar de los feligreses, o sea lo que ha descubierto de nuestro lado oscuro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo:  Hmm.  Tengo una canción que empieza con “Cerraré la puerta detrás de mi sombra.”  Está bien.  Seguramente tengo algo.  Entonces, vengo a las ocho y cuarto y ¿lo ensayamos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El director:  Perfecto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elegí otra canción que había compuesto.  Fue un poema que encontré por Internet e hice la música.  “Vienes y Te Vas.”  Lo traduje al inglés y lo leí primero, después el director me acompañó en el piano y yo canté.  Creo que el mensaje del poema quedó muy bien con el tema del sermón.  Los dos se trataban del viaje en que seguimos, este viaje de la vida que “es tan intenso que nada habrá de detener.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y esta fue la “sorpresa” de este domingo durante el servicio de las nueve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;6/1/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-555771495262853320?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/555771495262853320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=555771495262853320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/555771495262853320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/555771495262853320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/06/sorpresa.html' title='¡Sorpresa!'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-8611803399204410656</id><published>2009-05-22T15:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T15:44:31.806-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silencio'/><title type='text'>El Silencio/ Being in Silence</title><content type='html'>El silencio….es interesante, es curioso, extraño a veces, da la oportunidad de ir profundo, de excavar las profundidades de tu ser, pero con tiempo.  Poco silencio no sirve mucho, uno necesita un buen rato de silencio para poder empezar la excavación, un buen rato de estar solo, quieto, apreciar la tranquilidad, dejar que aparezcan los pensamientos profundos para poder verlos en la luz y dejarlos desvanecer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tres horas pasé en silencio hoy en un lugar tranquilo, bello y realmente fue poco tiempo y pasó rápido…pudiera haber guardado el silencio por mucho más tiempo, pero así era, lo acepté y seguí mi vida como antes.  La verdad, tengo ganas de pasar más tiempo en silencio, meditando, haciendo yoga, leyendo un poco, contemplando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Contemplando qué?  Pues, la razón por lo cual estoy aquí, lo que debo hacer con el resto de mi vida, la mejor manera de dar felicidad a mis hermanos, cómo elegir la felicidad todo el tiempo y estar tranquila sin importar lo que pase…y cosas por el estilo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por el momento es lo que hay…y este momento es precioso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in Silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was in silence for three hours and the amazing part was that it went so fast I barely had time to get started…get started on what? you may ask…well, figuring out what I’m doing here, what I should be doing for the rest of my life, how to always choose happiness, how to give only happiness, finding the stillness within and stuff like that.  So this is where I am in my life and it’s good, it’s all good, it’s perfect.  It is what it is and this moment is precious.&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena. (en silencio)&lt;br /&gt;5/22/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-8611803399204410656?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/8611803399204410656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=8611803399204410656' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8611803399204410656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8611803399204410656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-silencio-being-in-silence.html' title='El Silencio/ Being in Silence'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3427359576141204051</id><published>2009-05-11T09:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T09:18:59.862-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Love is/El Amor es</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/Sggk463plCI/AAAAAAAAAoA/gendpPJPcE8/s1600-h/Alex%26Rima,2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/Sggk463plCI/AAAAAAAAAoA/gendpPJPcE8/s320/Alex%26Rima,2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334554318914294818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When love is so wonderful, why choose anything else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando el amor es tan maravilloso, ¿por qué elegir otra cosa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;5/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3427359576141204051?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3427359576141204051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3427359576141204051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3427359576141204051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3427359576141204051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/05/love-isel-amor-es.html' title='Love is/El Amor es'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/Sggk463plCI/AAAAAAAAAoA/gendpPJPcE8/s72-c/Alex%26Rima,2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-5129998297434494419</id><published>2009-04-27T10:37:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T10:39:22.636-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='felicidad happiness'/><title type='text'>Mi Felicidad/ My Happiness</title><content type='html'>Mi felicidad no está afligida por el dolor en mi cuerpo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el día lluvioso,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el frío que hace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el calor que hace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el mal humor de mi vecino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el perro que no deja de ladrar enfrente de mi casa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por lo que dice o no dice mi pareja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el coche detrás de mí que me toca el claxon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el coche que no me deja cambiar de carril&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por la luz roja del semáforo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por las noticias malas en el radio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por las opiniones de los locutores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el hambre que tenga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni porque se me acabó la leche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni porque no me ha llamado mi amiga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni porque no me ha escrito mi amigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por la arrugas en la cara que no tenía antes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por los cambios que veo en el cuerpo que significan la vejez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el tiempo que pasa rápido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por el tiempo que pasa despacio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni por nada de nada de NADA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi felicidad está intacta, firme, completa, entera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque soy la Hija del Universo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y nada que veo, toco, huelo, oigo, pruebo, siento puede afligir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi felicidad…MI FELICIDAD DE A DE VERAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando miro profundamente dentro de mi ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sólo veo la luz y la paz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hermanos míos del Universo, que tengan luz y paz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y Felicidad…ahora y para siempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   ******************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My happiness is not affected by the pain in my body,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the rainy day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the cold weather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the hot weather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the bad mood of my neighbor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the dog that won’t stop barking in front of my house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by what my partner says or doesn’t say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the car behind me that beeps his horn at me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the car who won’t let me change lanes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the red traffic light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the bad news on the radio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the opinions of the radio announcers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the hunger I might have&lt;br /&gt;Neither because the milk ran out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither because my friend hasn’t called me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither because my friend hasn’t written me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the wrinkles in my face that I didn’t have before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by the changes I see in my body that signify old age&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by time that goes by so quickly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by time that goes by so slowly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor by nothing of nothing of NOTHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My happiness is intact, firm, complete, whole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I am a Daughter of the Universe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And nothing that I see, touch, smell, hear, taste, feel can affect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My happiness…MY REAL HAPPINESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look deeply inside myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only see light and peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brothers of the Universe, may you have light and peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Happiness…now and forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.  (durante esta vida)&lt;br /&gt;4/27/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-5129998297434494419?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/5129998297434494419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=5129998297434494419' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5129998297434494419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5129998297434494419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/04/mi-felicidad-my-happiness.html' title='Mi Felicidad/ My Happiness'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2971158389275874046</id><published>2009-04-17T16:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T16:34:34.343-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poema'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paz tranquilidad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='si pudieras'/><title type='text'>Un Poema Para Ti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SejnGl6COcI/AAAAAAAAAnc/ZxsB9cK5j_I/s1600-h/pond:skunk+cabbage.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SejnGl6COcI/AAAAAAAAAnc/ZxsB9cK5j_I/s200/pond:skunk+cabbage.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325760659806370242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Si pudieras ver los rayos del sol brincar en el arroyo&lt;br /&gt;Como diamantes frenéticos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si pudieras sentir la brisa en tu cuello tan suave&lt;br /&gt;Como una caricia,&lt;br /&gt;Respirar profundo el aire del bosque,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si pudieras ver las piedras pequeñas y grandes,&lt;br /&gt;Pelonas y pegadas con hierbas frescas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si pudieras mirar los vuelos caóticos de los insectos&lt;br /&gt;Recién nacidos, dando vueltas y vueltas&lt;br /&gt;Encima del agua,&lt;br /&gt;Aprovechando su vida de veinticuatro horas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si pudieras sentarte unos momentos para&lt;br /&gt;Gozar de esta belleza,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sé que estarías feliz y contento,&lt;br /&gt;Hermano mío, por mucho tiempo&lt;br /&gt;Porque todo esto lo llevarías adentro&lt;br /&gt;Y te daría paz y tranquilidad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que tengas paz y tranquilidad en tu vida&lt;br /&gt;Ahora y para siempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Soy Lorena. (Sólo un nombre)&lt;br /&gt;4/17/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2971158389275874046?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2971158389275874046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2971158389275874046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2971158389275874046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2971158389275874046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/04/un-poema-para-ti.html' title='Un Poema Para Ti'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SejnGl6COcI/AAAAAAAAAnc/ZxsB9cK5j_I/s72-c/pond:skunk+cabbage.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1543061535294736272</id><published>2009-04-13T16:48:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T17:00:25.653-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='problem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ego'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='problema'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='solution'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='verdad'/><title type='text'>El Problema/ The Problem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SeOnPEcDwSI/AAAAAAAAAnU/58NxeymllE0/s1600-h/chair+by+stream.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SeOnPEcDwSI/AAAAAAAAAnU/58NxeymllE0/s200/chair+by+stream.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324283061813362978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Cuál es el problema?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creer que soy lo que no soy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Cuál es la solución?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romper la creencia antigua y construir una "no-creencia" basada en la Verdad, the verdad de qué soy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada vez que creo que soy menos, por ejemplo, soy pobre o débil o no suficientamente buena, encuentro defectos con mi creador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada vez que me identifico con el ego, creo algo de mí que no es cierto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La Verdad es.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo soy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los pájaros están cantando afuera con todo corazón en las partes muy arriba de los árboles.  Están alegres y sin problemas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Puedo ser yo menos que los pájaros en los árboles?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking I am what I am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the solution?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tear down the old belief and build up a non/belief, based on Truth, the truth of what I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I think I am less, i.e. I am poor or weak or not good enough, I am finding fault with my creator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I identify with the ego, I believe something about myself that is not true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The birds are singing outside with all their might high up in the treetops.  They are joyous and problem free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I be less than the birds in the trees?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.  (por el momento)&lt;br /&gt;4/13/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1543061535294736272?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1543061535294736272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1543061535294736272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1543061535294736272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1543061535294736272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/04/el-problema-problem.html' title='El Problema/ The Problem'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SeOnPEcDwSI/AAAAAAAAAnU/58NxeymllE0/s72-c/chair+by+stream.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4287482965747819567</id><published>2009-03-27T11:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T11:08:18.453-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='victim'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='victima'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='juicio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='compassion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='compasion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='judgment'/><title type='text'>¿Qué Creemos?  What Do We Believe?</title><content type='html'>¿Tú crees que no guardas agravios o críticas o juicios?  Pues, no es cierto.  Al ego le encanta poner estas ideas equivocadas en alguna “caja” en la mente para después sacarlas en un momento dado para hacernos víctima de los demás, víctima de las circunstancias, víctima de las “injusticias” de la vida, o sea, para causarnos INFELICIDAD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;También todos esos agravios, críticas y juicios nos mantienen arraigado en el pasado para que no funcionemos cien por ciento en el momento presente.  La prueba es en nuestras reacciones a los eventos del “ahora” como si fueran eventos del pasado cuando “eramos víctima de aquellas circunstancias”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay que dar un ejemplo, ¿no?  Bueno, últimamente me han llegado unos incidentes de mi pasado a la mente (normalmente cuando estoy manejando porque paso bastante tiempo en mi coche) y cuando los estoy revisando encuentro algo que criticar o disgustar o juzgar.  Cuando me doy cuenta que estoy criticando a una persona del incidente, me pongo a pensar, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;¿Por qué critico, por qué juzgo?&lt;/span&gt;  En ese momento decido perdonar, comprender, soltar el pensamiento disgustado que guardaba y remplazarlo con uno de compasión.  Es interesante que cuando hago esto se desaparece el incidente de mi mente y se borra de la memoria.  Por ejemplo, sé que ayer pensaba en dos incidentes de mi pasado con dos personas distintas, mis juicios sobre esas personas, etc. pero hoy no recuerdo de los incidentes ni de las personas que juzgaba.  Además hoy en la mañana en mis sueños andaba yo con tolerancia de las personas en los sueños en vez de criticarlas.  Teo me dijo que estoy integrando la compasión en mi ser profundo.  Ojalá, de veras, ojalá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creer que somos víctimas del universo es vivir en un nivel bajo y sólo levantando nuestros pensamientos de la oscuridad del juicio hasta la luz de la compasión vamos a estar feliz en la vida.  El universo responde a lo que nosotros le damos.  Si pensamos que somos víctimas, entonces vamos a ver “injusticias” por todos lados.  Si pasamos nuestra vida con compasión, comprensión y tolerancia, es lo que vamos a percibir y recibir. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paso a paso abro el corazón a la luz.  Paso a paso suelto los pensamientos negativos y siento una tranquilidad tremenda.  Cuando mis acciones vienen de un lugar de amor, el amor es todo lo que veo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you don’t hold onto grievances or criticism or judgments?  Well, it’s not true.  The ego loves to put these wrong ideas into some kind of “box” in our mind so that later it can take them out in a given moment in order to make us a victim of others, a victim of circumstances, a victim of the “injustices” of life, or in other words, to bring us UNHAPPINESS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These grievances, criticisms and judgments also keep us rooted in the past so that we can’t function one hundred percent in the present moment.  The proof is in our reactions to the events of “now” as if they were events from the past when “we were the victim of such and so circumstance”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about an example?  Okay, lately some past incidents have crossed my mind (usually when I’m driving because I spend a good amount of time in my car) and when reviewing them I find something to criticize or dislike or judge.  When I  realize that I’m criticizing a person from the incident, I start to think, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why am I criticizing?  Why am I judging?&lt;/span&gt;  In that moment I decide to forgive, understand and let go off the unpleasant thought that I was holding onto and replace it with one of compassion.  It’s interesting that when I do this the event disappears from my mind and is erased from my memory.  For example, I know that yesterday I was thinking about two incidents from my past with two different people, my judgments about those people, etc. but today I can’t remember the incidents nor the people I was judging.  Besides that, today in the morning in my dreams I was going around being tolerant of the people in my dreams instead of criticizing them.  Ted told me that I am integrating compassion into my deeper self.  I hope so, I sure hope so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believing that we are victims of the universe is to live on a lower level and only by raising up our thoughts from the darkness of judgment to the light of compassion are we going to be happy in our life.  The universe responds to what we give it.  If we believe that we are victims, then we are going to see “injustices” everywhere.  If we go through our life with compassion, understanding and tolerance, that is what we will perceive and receive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step by step I am opening my heart to the light.  Step by step I let go of negative thoughts and then experience a tremendous peace.  When my actions come from a place of love, love is all I see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;3/27/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4287482965747819567?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4287482965747819567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4287482965747819567' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4287482965747819567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4287482965747819567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/03/que-creemos-what-do-we-believe.html' title='¿Qué Creemos?  What Do We Believe?'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-9144707368887827972</id><published>2009-03-25T13:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T14:10:37.517-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='power'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unconditional love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='David Hawkins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='force'/><title type='text'>Grace and Empowerment</title><content type='html'>"Empowerment...comes from meaning.  Those things that have the greatest meaning to us arise from the spiritual, not the material world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Grace is the expression of the power of aesthetic sensitivity, and power is always manifested with grace, whether in beauty of line, style, or expression.  ...grace is an aspect of unconditional love.&lt;br /&gt;...Grace is associated with modesty and humility, for power doesn't need to flaunt itself; force always must show off, because it originates in self-doubt.  Great artists are thankful for their power, whatever its expression, because they know it's a gift that benefits all of mankind."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--David Hawkins, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Power versus Force&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was deeply blessed this Sunday when I opened my heart to my church community and sang my song that acknowledges the oneness of all humanity.  At that moment I found peace, love and true power, that which is unconditional love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;3/25/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-9144707368887827972?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/9144707368887827972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=9144707368887827972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/9144707368887827972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/9144707368887827972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/03/grace-and-empowerment.html' title='Grace and Empowerment'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3111270427861193789</id><published>2009-03-20T14:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T15:04:11.021-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='David Hawkins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fuerza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poder'/><title type='text'>Sabiduría</title><content type='html'>Sabiduría conseguido de mis lecturas ultimamente:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo juicio se revela ser auto-juicio a fin de cuentas y cuando se entiende esto, una comprensión más grande de la esencia de la vida toma su lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada mejoría que hacemos en nuestro mundo privado mejora el mundo entero para todos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La bondad sencilla a uno mismo y a todo lo que vive es la fuerza más poderosa y transformativa de todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos atraemos lo que emanamos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El poder viene de la intención o el sentido.  Es noble.  La fuerza, en cambio, atrae lo que es considerado burdo.  El poder no requiere justificación, pero la fuerza sí la requiere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El poder se asocia con la compasión y nos hace sentir positivo.  La fuerza se asocia con el juzgar y nos hace sentir mal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Otro día más sobre el poder y la fuerza).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;El Poder Contra la Fuerza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   por David Hawkins, M.D., PhD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Feliz Primavera]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;3/20/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3111270427861193789?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3111270427861193789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3111270427861193789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3111270427861193789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3111270427861193789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/03/sabiduria.html' title='Sabiduría'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1360677101165278581</id><published>2009-03-13T14:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T14:23:53.610-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dar y recibir'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reiki'/><title type='text'>Cuando Doy, Recibo</title><content type='html'>Cuando doy, recibo y recibo más. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El año pasado mi iglesia hizo una subasta para recaudar fondos.  Quería participar y entonces ofrecí dar un tratamiento de Reiki como un artículo de subastar.  No sé en cuánto dinero salió pero una mujer lo ganó y hoy en la mañana fui a su casa para darle el tratamiento. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¡Qué buena onda!  Mientras le daba el tratamiento yo estaba recibiendo la energía también.  Sentía el sanamiento de ella al mismo tiempo que yo recibía la energía que sana…era como un círculo de salud y amor.  Yo doy, ella recibe, ella me da y yo recibo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando ya iba a terminar, se me ocurrió sugerirle que creara una imagen de algo muy tranquilizante y que lo pusiera en el plexo solar.  Mientras, le seguía dando Reiki en esa area.  Curiosamente, yo vi primero en mi mente una playa, después un bosque con algo muy verde y mucho sol.  Al terminar el tratamiento le pregunté si había conseguido una imagen de tranquilidad.  Me dijo que al principio le llegó la imagen de una playa porque a ella le gusta mucho la playa.  Pensó que la playa no era muy tranquilizante y entonces se acordó del bosque y un lugar muy verde que había encontrado en su niñez donde iba cuando quería estar sola y tranquila.  Había mucho sol en ese lugar también.  Me pasmó que vi exactamente lo que ella había imaginado, pero luego pensé que en realidad estamos tan conectados que podemos entendernos en otros niveles y no es extraño.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al regresar a casa me sentía muy tranquila y contenta.  Una energía pesada que estaba cargando se había disipado y estaba yo más ligera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doy las gracias al universo y estoy bendecida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;3/13/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1360677101165278581?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1360677101165278581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1360677101165278581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1360677101165278581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1360677101165278581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/03/cuando-doy-recibo.html' title='Cuando Doy, Recibo'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7573704859543096880</id><published>2009-03-06T10:07:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T10:22:54.232-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humility'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acceptance'/><title type='text'>Have the Courage</title><content type='html'>"Have the courage to pray for the humility to accept everything."--Mother Meer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this means to accept the challenges along with the good stuff, to not turn away when life sends us difficult things to deal with like situations or relationships.  This is not easy, but I think it's necessary if we are to grow.  How do I go about "accepting everything?"  What do I do with the difficult stuff?  If someone attacks me verbally or metaphorically I know that attacking back does not work.  Should I "accept" the attack? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there is peace inside of me that cannot be disturbed, that nothing in the outer world can disrupt that peace.  When I find that peace and allow myself to experience it fully I am enormously happy.   It is always there, only what happens is, I lose my focus and take it away from the peace and place it onto the external world and its circumstances.  Sometimes this is okay but many times it is not.  When life's curve balls get to be too much, that's when I need to have the "courage to pray for the humility to accept everything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a work in progress.  If I keep on working I will progress!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;3/6/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7573704859543096880?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7573704859543096880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7573704859543096880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7573704859543096880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7573704859543096880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/03/have-courage.html' title='Have the Courage'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-9102789434518506869</id><published>2009-02-23T09:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T09:14:09.473-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='who are you?  you are not... the question'/><title type='text'>The Question for Today</title><content type='html'>Eckhart Tolle says if you ask yourself who you are and you don’t know, this is a good sign.  This is a beginning of sorts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not your body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not your ego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not your beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not the guilt you may be carrying around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not the voices that tell you you are wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not what your thoughts dictate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the question for today is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who is reading these words?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;2/23/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-9102789434518506869?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/9102789434518506869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=9102789434518506869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/9102789434518506869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/9102789434518506869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/02/question-for-today.html' title='The Question for Today'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-8846274690048893607</id><published>2009-02-20T11:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T11:50:20.665-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensamientos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='respuestas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='la oración'/><title type='text'>Cada Pensamiento</title><content type='html'>Me llamó la atención esto del artículo “La Oración.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Cada pensamiento que tenemos, sea positivo o negativo es una forma de oración…todas las oraciones se responden, pero no necesariamente en la forma que esperamos.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Con razón, cuando pienso que algo no va a salir bien, o me va a ir mal en tal cosa, pues ¿qué pasa?  Exactamente eso.  En cambio, cuando pienso que todo está bien, y estoy muy agradecida por mi vida tan buena y que todo va a salir bien, entonces, es lo que recibo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow….interesante.  Cada día aprendo más y más sobre la importancia de ser positiva, porque para mí cuando mi comportamiento es con amor, todo sale perfecto.  Recibo lo que doy.  Siento que estoy en alineamiento con el universo, y por eso el universo me da todo lo bueno.  Parece que hay un mensaje en todo…la letra de una canción en la radio, el correo electrónico que me llega de una amiga, una foto que alguien me manda,  todo eso es comunicación del universo, y si estoy viviendo en el momento presente no voy a perder esta oportunidad de aprender algo, de saber que mis oraciones sí tienen respuesta y estas respuestas me llegan a diario, constantamente, momento por momento, porque estoy pensando todo el tiempo.  Mi mente no descansa aunque quisiera que descansara un poco….así es.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada pensamiento=una oración.&lt;br /&gt;Cada momento=una respuesta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Debo estar atenta.  No quiero perder nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feliz día, mis hermanos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;2/20/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-8846274690048893607?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/8846274690048893607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=8846274690048893607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8846274690048893607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8846274690048893607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/02/cada-pensamiento.html' title='Cada Pensamiento'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7455208410301377658</id><published>2009-02-15T17:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T17:46:54.612-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Un Curso de Milagros'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='la oración'/><title type='text'>La Oración</title><content type='html'>(Encontré esto por Internet y me interesó mucho)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al pasar de los años he transitado por muchos cambios en cómo veo la oración.  Solía considerar que la oración era una manera de lograr que Dios me diera lo que pensaba que realmente me hacía falta.  Mi crianza católica me enseñó a recitar el Salve María y Padre Nuestro y algunas oraciones más que no recuerdo.  El mensaje que recibí de las monjas era que de alguna manera eso nos haría mejores a los ojos de Dios.  No recuerdo que orara demasiado en mi niñez fuera de lo que se requería en la escuela católica y en la iglesia los domingos.  Siempre tuve un rasgo rebelde y tendía a rechazar aquello que tuviera que aprender de memoria.  Para cuando llegué a la adolescencia y concurrí a la escuela pública ya había rechazado toda disciplina espiritual que hubiera aprendido de la enseñanza católica.  Además, las cosas iban bien para mí y entonces no veía la necesidad de orar.  Antes de embarcarme de veinte añera en mi viaje espiritual, seguía sin sentir la necesidad de apelar a Dios para nada.  Creía en Dios, pero consideraba que la oración era algo que se hacía cuando una estaba en la miseria o luchando con algo con el cual no se podía sola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para cuando me convertí en estudiante del Curso, me había desilusionado lo suficiente con la vida para poder apreciar el lugar que ocupaba la oración en esa situación.  El Curso me hizo darme cuenta que la oración era algo que hacemos todo el tiempo.  Sólo que nunca pensamos que sea así.  Eso fue algo que tenía que volver a aprender en el camino: que cada pensamiento que tenemos, sea positivo o negativo, es una forma de oración.  Hay una cita en la página 3 de La Canción de la Oración que me sorprendió la primera vez que la leí: “Todos oran sin cesar.  Pide y habrás recibido, pues has establecido aquello que te hace falta.”  Sigue hablando de la escalera de la oración y los distintos niveles en que oramos.  Considero que ese pequeño suplemento es el escrito más profundo e iluminador sobre la oración.  También uso pasajes del texto y libro de ejercicios del Curso como forma de oración porque siempre hay algo que me conmueve profundamente y me eleva a una perspectiva mayor.  Yo oro ahí mismo pidiendo ayuda para tener la voluntad de pensar y elegir lo que nos está pidiendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solía estar muy desilusionada con la oración porque tantas veces creí que mis oraciones no tuvieron respuesta y le culpaba a Dios por no importarle.  Al estudiar el Curso y llegar a conocerme más profundamente, aprendí que todas las oraciones se responden, pero no necesariamente en la forma que esperamos.  Pero para que la oración se responda, necesitamos tener la voluntad de mirar lo que está obstruyendo nuestro reconocimiento de la respuesta.  Cuando las oraciones no funcionaban como yo pensé que debían, encontré que debajo de mi profunda necesidad de que se respondieran las oraciones estaba la oculta desconfianza de que Dios no los iba o no podía responderlas.  Así que inadvertidamente, mi duda y desconfianza en Dios era una contra-oración que bloqueó la llegada de la Respuesta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No es fácil aceptar que todo lo que pensemos sea una forma de oración.  Tal vez estemos preocupados, disgustados, dudando, o desilusionados y todos esos pensamientos y emociones terminan siendo una forma de oración que nuestro propio ego responde en formas poco felices.  Demuestra lo poderoso que son nuestros pensamientos y cuánto hace falta que cuidemos lo que pensamos.  Hace falta que miremos a las oraciones ocultas que oramos que pasan inadvertidas y sin examinar porque interfieren con la habilidad de Dios de llegar a nosotros.  Queremos que nuestra vida mejore, que sucedan ciertas cosas o que nos libremos de ciertos miedos o problemas, pero al mismo tiempo estamos pensando cualquier cosa y sin embargo no los consideramos oraciones.  Sin embargo en esos aparentes pensamientos sin sentido hay una oración pidiendo ser independiente de Dios.  Estamos orando para tener esos pensamientos separados, no importa lo ‘positivos’ o ‘negativos’ que pensemos que son.  Queremos tener el ‘derecho’ y la ‘libertad’ de pensar independientemente de Dios, pero cuando estamos tristes o sintiendo que las cosas no están funcionando a favor nuestro, oramos a Dios para que nos dé lo que nos falta o para que corrija lo que está mal en nuestras vidas.  Pero el problema es que no funciona muy bien porque queremos que la respuesta se dé en nuestros términos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Para mí la oración en realidad es acerca de cuánto sentimos que queremos abrirnos a Dios y confiar en Él.  ¿Mucho? ¿Un poco? ¿De vez en cuando? ¿Sólo si estamos realmente desesperados?  ¿Sólo en las áreas de la vida en que las cosas se embarullaron, que no avanzan?  Entonces la oración se relega a la categoría de “sólo para emergencias” o a la de “ya no puedo sola con esto– así que por favor ayúdame.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estoy aprendiendo a orar de manera distinta de que antes.  Es un proceso en constante evolución y uno que me está trayendo más humildad a medida que aprendo que quiero consultar con más frecuencia a Aquél que está adentro.  No sólo para pedir ayuda, sino para mantenerme en contacto como uno hace con aquellos que ama.  Sólo para conectarse y estar juntos.  También oro por aquellos que sé que están luchando porque sé que no sólo los ayuda a ellos, también es una manera para que yo descubra mi Ser más profundo que es parte de todos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Escrito por Louise Flechette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(English another day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;2/15/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7455208410301377658?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7455208410301377658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7455208410301377658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7455208410301377658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7455208410301377658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/02/la-oracion.html' title='La Oración'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-5807560274887021902</id><published>2009-02-10T21:59:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T22:14:12.193-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='la vida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hogar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alma'/><title type='text'>Parece Mágia</title><content type='html'>Cuando estaba aquí en junio y julio el año pasado, trabajaba en mi proyecto de música.  Dediqué todo el tiempo que podía a eso.  Como estaba tan ocupada con "el mío" mi pareja tenía que hacer muchas cosas solo y todas las tardes cuando estaba yo ensayando él se iba a hacer otras actividades.  A veces no era fácil para él, pero me apoyaba y no se quejaba porque sabía que mi proyecto era algo importante para mí.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esta vez no trabajo en ningún proyecto y dedico mi tiempo en hacer las actividades con él para estar juntos, para darle lo que él merece, para que no esté solo haciendo las cosas.  Noto que esta vez hay algo distinto, esta vez andamos conociendo gente nueva, gente buena, gente con quien tenemos mucho en común y nos sentimos muy a gusto aquí, tan a gusto que empezamos a platicar cómo y cuándo podemos cambiarnos a San Miguel.  Ahora estamos creando una vida acá y se siente cómodo, natural, bien.  Parece mágia, pero este lugar viene siendo un hogar para mí.  Los dos estamos viviendo una tranquilidad muy linda y nos alimenta el alma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2/10/09&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-5807560274887021902?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/5807560274887021902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=5807560274887021902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5807560274887021902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5807560274887021902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/02/parece-magia.html' title='Parece Mágia'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2042104264516997626</id><published>2009-02-07T17:34:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T17:49:22.125-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Virgen de Guadalupe'/><title type='text'>La Virgen de Guadalupe</title><content type='html'>Me encontró...de veras, la Virgen de Guadalupe me encontró.  He estado buscando un retrato de la Virgen por mucho tiempo pero ningún retrato que veía me llamó la atención suficientemente para que lo comprara.  Hasta ahora.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fuimos a Atotonilco y sin pensar sabía que iba a encontrar lo que buscaba.  Después de visitar la catedral fuimos a un puesto donde una pareja anciana vendía cosas religiosas.  Entonces la vi, la Virgen que quería, la que estaba hecha para mí.  Era un retrato grande, simple con ella en medio con una cara de amor y compasión y alrededor en forma de ovalo había cuatro escenas pequeñas enseñando el cuento de Juan Diego y como la Virgen le apareció en el desierto.  Por fin, me puse tan contenta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colgamos el retrato en nuestra recámara y en seguida empecé a sentir una energía muy fuerte de amor que parecía salir del retrato hacia mí.  Me dio una tranquilidad impresionante.  Cada vez que lo veo siento en paz.  Es lindo, para mí es un milagro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sí, la Virgen de Guadalupe me encontró y me dio exactmente lo que me hacía falta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gracias, gracias al universo, gracias a Dios.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2/7/09&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2042104264516997626?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2042104264516997626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2042104264516997626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2042104264516997626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2042104264516997626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/02/la-virgen-de-guadalupe.html' title='La Virgen de Guadalupe'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4669682750564504935</id><published>2009-02-02T17:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T17:46:46.148-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sidewalks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='streets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fragments'/><title type='text'>Fragments</title><content type='html'>We have been here in San Miguel now for two weeks.  The time is flying by so fast, each day exquisite and my life is perfect.  Here is a bit of my journal:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We walk everywhere and always there is something interesting to see and experience.  There are two things I want to mention that stand out here.  One makes no sense, the other is just unique to Mexico I think.  The one that makes no sense is the way the sidewalks are constructed.  First of all, they are very narrow so two people can't walk side by side and have a conversation while strolling down the street.  Next, as you are walking along single file, suddenly there is a telephone pole or sometimes a tree right smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk and in order to go around it you have to step into the street.  Be careful there isn't a taxi or bus coming toward you.  Once in awhile there will be a pipe sticking up out of the sidewalk for no apparent reason, so you had better keep your eyes on your feet.  The other day someone dropped a jar of mustard on the sidewalk.  Each day I watched as the splattered mustard became drier and drier.  Oh yes, there are a lot of stray dogs around and you know where they choose to do their duty...of course, on the sidewalk we are ambling down.  I consider every day walking the streets an adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The other thing I call unique to Mexico is the various aromas in the air.  As I walk down the street, if I am breathing and managing to keep my feet out of trouble, I notice the smell of fresh laundry soap, but a few moments later I smell rotting produce.  As I pass an open clothing store, a whiff of Patchouli incense fills my nostrils;  then I may smell freshly baked bread coming from the panaderia I pass and next the exhaust from an urbano, the local bus.  Then perhaps a young Mexican man will walk by me and leave a trail of after shave that will make me dizzy with nostalgia for my adolescent days.  And so it goes, a woman's perfume, rotting vegetables, fresh bread, laundry soap, the cooking oil smell of someone frying tortillas on the corner, a never ending inhalation of aromas coming and going and sparking images from my past and perhaps even memories from a future yet to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4669682750564504935?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4669682750564504935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4669682750564504935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4669682750564504935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4669682750564504935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/02/fragments.html' title='Fragments'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7850841292849993052</id><published>2009-01-16T10:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T10:21:54.975-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frío'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mexico'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cold'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='invierno'/><title type='text'>Ah, México</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SXCj2LXx_nI/AAAAAAAAAmw/FsjBnDkCD4M/s1600-h/ice,+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SXCj2LXx_nI/AAAAAAAAAmw/FsjBnDkCD4M/s200/ice,+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291909713321131634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s the kind of cold that goes through to my bones as if my flesh were not even there.  It freezes my brain and I can’t remember things.  The skin on my hands if I go out without gloves becomes red and raw and dry.  It’s the deep freeze winter where the dew turns to solid ice.  Each day the stream becomes narrower and narrower as its banks harden into thick planks of ice.  It’s the kind of cold that instills fear in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT I’M GOING TO MEXICO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even if it’s 32F there, it will be a welcome change for me and I will breathe deeply and not be afraid, because the warmth of the sun and the people there will defrost me and bring me back to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SXCkKQ8kw4I/AAAAAAAAAm4/5LiW7MksREY/s1600-h/ice,+close-up.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SXCkKQ8kw4I/AAAAAAAAAm4/5LiW7MksREY/s200/ice,+close-up.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291910058415014786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es esta clase de frío que llega hasta mis huesos como si mi piel no existiera.  Me congela el cerebro y se me olvidan las cosas.  La piel de mis manos se pone roja y lastimada y seca si salgo sin guantes.  Es el invierno de congelar profundamente donde el rocio se convierte en hielo sólido.  Cada día el arroyo se pone más y más angosto mientras las orillas se endurecen como tablas de hielo.  Es esta clase de frío que me da temor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¡¡¡¡PERO ME VOY PARA MEXICO!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y aunque la temperatura esté en 0c. allá, será un cambio bienvenido para mí y voy a respirar profundo y no tener miedo, porque el calor del sol y de la gente me descongelará y me llevará a la vida otra vez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;1/16/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7850841292849993052?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7850841292849993052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7850841292849993052' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7850841292849993052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7850841292849993052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/01/ah-mxico.html' title='Ah, México'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SXCj2LXx_nI/AAAAAAAAAmw/FsjBnDkCD4M/s72-c/ice,+2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1036075112904538081</id><published>2009-01-05T12:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T12:56:33.821-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='el cuarto acuerdo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the fourth agreement'/><title type='text'>El Cuarto Acuerdo/ The Fourth Agreement</title><content type='html'>"Haz siempre lo máximo que puedas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para mí esto quiere decir que no debo dejarme caer en un estado de pereza o tratar de hacer menos por flojera o falta de interés. Si hago siempre lo máximo que puedo, sé que voy a sentirme mejor, más completa, más alegre y todo en mi vida va a salir mejor. El portero que barre muy bien los pisos algún día será gerente de porteros. El que barre muy descuidado y falta mucho al trabajo allí se queda en el mismo trabajo toda su vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay un blog que leo mucho que se llama &lt;a href="http://mindfulmimi.blogspot.com/2009/01/your-life-tomorrow-will-be-result-of.html"&gt;Mindful Mimi &lt;/a&gt;y posteó un cuento que coincide muy bien con este acuerdo. A veces somos como ese carpintero que no entendió la importancia del cuarto acuerdo y sufrió por eso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que no se me olvide de siempre hacer lo máximo que pueda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Always do your best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This means to me that I should be carefull not to fall in to laziness or try to get away with doing less because I don't feel like it or I'm just not interested. If I always do my best, I know I will feel better, be more complete and be happier in my life and my life will be better. The janitor who does a really good job of sweeping the floors will some day be the manager of the janitors. The one who does a sloppy job and misses a lot of work will always be stuck in the same job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a blog I read often called &lt;a href="http://mindfulmimi.blogspot.com/2009/01/your-life-tomorrow-will-be-result-of.html"&gt;Mindful Mimi&lt;/a&gt; and she posted a story that goes along quite nicely with this agreement. Sometimes we are like that carpenter who didn't understand the importance of the fourth agreement and suffered because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May I never forget to always do my best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;1/5/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1036075112904538081?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1036075112904538081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1036075112904538081' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1036075112904538081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1036075112904538081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/01/el-cuarto-acuerdo-fourth-agreement.html' title='El Cuarto Acuerdo/ The Fourth Agreement'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6654941771211158117</id><published>2009-01-04T13:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T13:21:11.895-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assumptions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suposiciones'/><title type='text'>El Tercer Acuerdo/ The Third Agreement</title><content type='html'>“No hagas suposiciones.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es mejor preguntar que asumir.  Ya lo sé, pero tantas veces hago suposiciones sin darme cuenta.  ¿Cuántas veces pasa algo así con una pareja?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Pensé que tú llevabas los boletos del teatro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Pensé que &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tú&lt;/span&gt; los tenías.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay que hacer preguntas, ¿verdad? aunque pienses que fastidias a tu pareja. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¿Tienes los boletos, amor?  Para evitar problemas después.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Si yo necesito algo de mi pareja, debo pedírselo en vez de asumir que él va a saber lo que me hace falta.  No puede leer mi mente.  Si no hago suposiciones entonces mi comunicación queda limpia y clara.   Bueno, entiendo esto intelectualmente, pero ¿puedo hacerlo todo el tiempo?  ¿Puedo estar conciente de mis suposiciones potenciales antes de que las haga?  Esto es el chiste, el trabajo, mi camino espiritual.  La idea es seguir intentando, nunca darse por vencido.&lt;br /&gt;Los beneficios son tremendos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don’t make assumptions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s better to ask than to assume.  I know this but how many times do I make assumptions without realizing it.  How many times has something like this happened between a couple?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I thought you brought the theater tickets.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I thought &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; had them.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better to ask, don’t you think, even if you think you are bothering your spouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you have the tickets, sweetie?”  Avoid problems later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    If I need something from my spouse I must ask him for it instead of assuming that he will know what I need.  He can’t read my mind, after all.  If I make no assumptions then my communication is clean and clear.  Okay, I understand this intellectually, but can I do it all the time?  That’s the trick, the work, my spiritual journey.  The idea is to keep on trying, never give up.&lt;br /&gt;The benefits are great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;1/4/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6654941771211158117?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6654941771211158117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6654941771211158117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6654941771211158117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6654941771211158117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/01/el-tercer-acuerdo-third-agreement.html' title='El Tercer Acuerdo/ The Third Agreement'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2094068654300517513</id><published>2009-01-03T10:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T10:48:35.220-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='segundo acuerdo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='second agreement'/><title type='text'>El Segundo Acuerdo/ The Second Agreement</title><content type='html'>Segundo:  “No te tomes nada personalmente.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cualquier cosa que pasa alrededor de mí, realmente no tiene nada que ver conmigo.  Debo entender que si alguien me ignora o me grita no tiene que afectarme porque yo no soy el centro del universo.  Cuando me pongo a pensarlo detenidamente, el hecho de tomar las acciones de los demás personalmente es egoísta de mi parte.  Fíjate, por ejemplo, Fulano no me llamó o me dijo una mala palabra.  Hay que reconocer que es el problema de Fulano, no el mío.  No tengo que destruir mi felicidad por algo que Fulano hizo o no hizo, dijo o no dijo.  Si no me defiendo contra Fulano, (o sea, no me lo tomo personalmente), él no tiene con quien pelear o gritar o ignorar y cualquier sentimiento malo que pudiera haber sentido yo ahora se desvanece y mi felicidad queda intacta.  Suena fácil, ¿no?  Para lograr en cumplir este acuerdo, uno tiene que estar muy vigilante.  Muchas veces reacciono antes de pensar y eso es cuando me meto en problemas.  Poco a poco me estoy dando cuenta.  Por ejemplo, el otro día, Teo me gritó y se molestó porque yo traía los audífonos y no podía oírlo bien.  Al principio me sentí lastimada, pero unos minutos después me dí cuenta que Teo estaba de mal humor por algo que había pasado con su hijo.  Entonces, no me tomé personalmente su molestia y regresé a mi estado de buen humor.  Cada uno vive en su propio mundo, con su propia versión de la “realidad.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La meta para mí es no perder mi tranquilidad aunque alguien me diera una patada en la cara (metaforicamente), o se molestara porque yo le pedí algo que no quería darme.  Sé que puedo escoger mi “realidad,” y no tomando las cosas personalmente estoy mucho más tranquila.  Paso a paso, poco a poco voy llegando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second: Don’t take anything personally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything that happens around me, really has nothing to do with me.  I need to understand that if someone ignores me or yells at me, it doesn’t need to affect me because I’m not the center of the universe.  When I really think about it,  the fact of taking the actions of others personally is egoistic on my part.  Look, for example, So and So didn’t call me or said a bad word to me.  It’s important to recognize that it’s his problem, not mine.  I don’t have to destroy my happiness because of something So and So did or didn’t do, said or didn’t say.  If I don’t defend myself against So and So, (in other words, I don’t take it personally), he doesn’t have anyone to fight with, or yell at or ignore and whatever bad feeling I could have felt now disappears and my happiness remains intact.  Sounds easy, doesn’t it?  In order to succeed with this agreement, one has to be very vigilant.  Many times I react before thinking, and that is when I get into trouble.  Little by little I’m getting it.  For example, the other day, Ted yelled at me because I was wearing headphones and I couldn’t hear him well.  At first I was hurt, but a few minutes later I realized that he was in a bad mood because of something with his son.  Therefore, I didn’t take his annoyance personally and I returned to my good mood.  Each one of us lives in his/her own world with his/her own version of “reality.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The goal for me is not to lose my peace of mind even though someone kicks me in the face (metaphorically), or gets annoyed because I asked for something they don’t want to give.  I know I can choose my “reality” and not taking things personally, I am much more peaceful.  Step by step, little by little I’m getting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;1/3/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2094068654300517513?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2094068654300517513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2094068654300517513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2094068654300517513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2094068654300517513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/01/el-segundo-acuerdo-second-agreement.html' title='El Segundo Acuerdo/ The Second Agreement'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7557542977780698530</id><published>2009-01-02T09:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T09:46:45.910-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the four agreements'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='los cuatro acuerdos'/><title type='text'>Los Cuatro Acuerdos/ The Four Agreements</title><content type='html'>Los Cuatro Acuerdos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De Wikipedia, la enciclopedia libre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ensayo neutorologico escrito por el médico mexicano Miguel Ruiz, está basado en la sabiduría de los antiguos nahuales. Relata la cosmovisión que debería tener un ser humano para estar en equilibrio personal, teatral, diferencial, emocional, mental y social.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para lograrlo se debe, en primer lugar, entender que todos los humanos tienen un complejo sistema de creencias (cosmovisión), adquirido por influencia social y familiar y, que muchas veces algunas creencias adquiridas los perturban mental, emocionalmente y los vuelven infelices; en segundo lugar, aprender que se puede modificar el sistema de creencias para conseguir el anhelado equilibrio interior que lleva a la felicidad. Para lograrlo, se pueden poner en práctica los cuatro acuerdos (4 dogmas).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   1. "Sé impecable con tus palabras".&lt;br /&gt;   2. "No te tomes nada personalmente".&lt;br /&gt;   3. "No hagas suposiciones".&lt;br /&gt;   4. "Haz siempre lo máximo que puedas".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para mí, es buena hora de revisar los cuatro acuerdos.  Año nuevo, pizarra limpia, un comienzo, el primer día del resto de mi vida.  ¿Qué quieren decir para mí? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. “Sé impecable con tus palabras.”  Debo decir sólo lo que quiero decir, no decir mentiras, no engañar, no chismear, no decir ninguna mala palabra de nadie o de nada.  Tengo el derecho de pedir lo que quiero de alguien y esa persona tiene el derecho de negármelo.  Y también, viceversa.  Me doy cuenta que cuando critico a alguien, es un juicio y no estoy en el plan de perdonar.  Si perdono, no critico sino acepto.  Cuando perdono soy feliz, cuando juzgo, no lo soy.  Entonces, el perdonar trae la felicidad y con la felicidad viene la tranquilidad.  Parece fácil.  Debo ser impecable con mis palabras, porque cuando no lo soy siento la diferencia.  Siento una oscuridad dentro de mí y se siente fea.  Prefiero sentirme bien y feliz.  Voy a enfocarme en esto para el día de hoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mañana, número dos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Four Agreements&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don Miguel Ángel Ruiz (born 1952) is a Mexican author, nagual, shaman, and teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went to medical school and was a surgeon until a near-death experience impelled him to seek answers in ancestral traditions of the Toltec in which his mother was a curandera (healer), and his grandfather a nagual (shaman) who, after death, continued to teach Ruiz in his dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His most famous and influential work, The Four Agreements, was published in 1997 and has sold around 4 million copies.[1] It was featured on the Oprah television show,[2] and advocates personal freedom from agreements and beliefs that we have made with ourselves and others that are creating limitation and unhappiness in our lives. Ultimately, it is about finding one's own integrity, self-love, and peace within this reality. The Four Agreements are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   1. Be Impeccable With Your Word.&lt;br /&gt;   2. Don't Take Anything Personally.&lt;br /&gt;   3. Don't Make Assumptions.&lt;br /&gt;   4. Always Do Your Best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now is a good time to review the four agreements for me.  It’s a new year, a clean slate, a beginning, the first day of the rest of my life.  What do they have to tell me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. “Be impeccable with your word.”  I should say only what I mean, not tell lies, not deceive, not gossip, not say anything bad about anyone or anything.  I have the right to ask for what I want from someone and they have the right to deny me it.  And vice versa.  I realize that when I criticize someone, it’s a judgment and I am not on the road to forgiving.  If I forgive, I am not criticizing but rather accepting.  When I forgive I am happy, when  I judge, I am not.  So, forgiveness brings happiness and along with happiness comes peace.  It seems easy.  I must be impeccable with my words because when I’m not I feel the difference.  I feel a darkness inside of me and it feels bad.  I prefer to feel good and happy.  I am going to focus on this for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, number two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;1/2/09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7557542977780698530?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7557542977780698530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7557542977780698530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7557542977780698530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7557542977780698530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2009/01/los-cuatro-acuerdos-four-agreements.html' title='Los Cuatro Acuerdos/ The Four Agreements'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6195679794978483808</id><published>2008-12-31T10:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T10:37:40.720-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paz peace silence silencio'/><title type='text'>Hay Paz en el Silencio/ Peace in Silence</title><content type='html'>HOY A LA UNA DE LA TARDE (EST) OBSERVA CINCO MINUTOS DE SILENCIO POR FAVOR POR LA PAZ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TODAY AT ONE O'CLOCK PM (EST) PLEASE OBSERVE FIVE MINUTES OF SILENCE FOR PEACE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JUNTOS VISUALIZAMOS PAZ EN EL UNIVERSO.&lt;br /&gt;TOGETHER WE WILL ENVISION PEACE IN THE UNIVERSE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And once again silence…oh, silence, you are my great teacher.  It is only through you I will find my way.  There are many kinds of silence, the silence of the air, the silence of the snowfall, the silence of the trees with their wisdom, even the silence of the rushing stream after a heavy rainfall.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And then there is just SILENCE, big and overwhelming in its loftiness and its demeanor and I think it is unbearable, but that is not true.  It is a silence that I must learn to accept, to take it in, wallow in it, roll around in it and turn it into something creative or maybe see the creative in it, not be afraid to live it, not give it meaning.  It means nothing.  It simply is.  Let the silence bring me into the present moment.  It is only through silence that I will awaken, not “someday,” but when I awaken I will awaken in the NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y otra vez el silencio…ay, silencio, eres mi gran maestro.  Sólo a través de ti voy a encontrar mi camino.  Hay muchas clases de silencio, el silencio del aire, el silencio de la nevada, el silencio de los árboles con su sabiduría, aun el silencio del arroyo apurado después del aguacero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y después hay simplemente SILENCIO, grande y abrumado en su grandeza y su comportamiento y creo que es inaguantable, pero no es cierto.  Es un silencio que debo aprender a aceptar, a meterlo dentro de mí, revolcarme en él, girarme en él y cambiarlo en algo creativo o quizá ver la creatividad que tiene, no tener miedo de vivirlo, no darle sentido.  No tiene sentido.  Simplemente es.  Que el silencio me lleve al momento presente.  Solamente a través del silencio me despertaré, no “algún día,” sino cuando me despierte, me despertaré en el AHORA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mando amor y paz al universo porque sólo amor y paz existen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/31/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6195679794978483808?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6195679794978483808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6195679794978483808' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6195679794978483808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6195679794978483808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/hay-paz-en-el-silencio-peace-in-silence.html' title='Hay Paz en el Silencio/ Peace in Silence'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-8901398893689124216</id><published>2008-12-30T10:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T11:45:10.529-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><title type='text'>Lies are not Real</title><content type='html'>The wind is wild today, angry, blowing as if to release some dark pent-up energy.  I am reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eat, Pray, Love &lt;/span&gt;by Elizabeth Gilbert, a book that has grabbed my attention from the very first page and allowed me to delve into my own deep recesses of unexplored experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am coming to realize how powerful the truth is, how dishonesty breeds distrust, how from a very young age I knew I could not trust my mother.  This makes me sad, my most very basic caretaker I was afraid of.  I knew she loved me in her own way, in a smothering kind of way.  Why could she not tell me the truth?  Why did she always deceive me?  I remember her telling me when I asked her why she lied to me, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You couldn’t understand!&lt;/span&gt;  But I could understand and I did understand because I distrusted her.  I knew she lied to me.  Consequently, there were many things I did not tell her as I was growing up.  Looking back now as an adult I do not blame her for her dishonesty.  She was doing the best she could with the knowledge she had at that time.  She tried to protect me and she was a very generous person.  But I see how much I value the truth and when someone is not entirely honest with me I feel a deep sadness that comes from my childhood, that lack of trust and I only want truthful relationships with the people in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we all tell white lies so as not to hurt someone’s feelings, but really, how does this protect us?  I would rather hear the real words, though they may be harsh, for the sweetened lies contain a bitterness deep within them.  How can I grow if the truth is kept from me?  How can I learn? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind is wild today, it longs for only the truth.  May the truth simply be and be accepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/30/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Mañana español, el silencio y la paz)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-8901398893689124216?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/8901398893689124216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=8901398893689124216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8901398893689124216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8901398893689124216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/lies-are-not-real.html' title='Lies are not Real'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4968925349565537557</id><published>2008-12-28T20:51:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T21:07:41.027-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='la vida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='la muerte'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life death'/><title type='text'>Vivir Feliz/ Live Happy</title><content type='html'>"With my death standing behind me at all times, I don't waste my life in stupid emotions.  My impending death has brought me to life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Carlos Castaneda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La única manera de vivir esta vida es vivirla sin pensar en el pasado que ya no existe ni pensar en el futuro que tampoco existe.  Eso no quiere decir que uno no puede planear su futuro...comprar su boleto adelantado y cosas por el estilo, claro, pero dejar de pensar en el futuro como algo que amenace y borrar los "pero si" y "qué tal si mañana..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sólo tengo este momento y con la muerte que me espera cada día más cerca, no hay que perder la vida sintiendo emociones estúpidas.  Hay que vivir y vivir feliz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy la luz del mundo.  ¿Qué más puedo querer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, you heard me.  I AM THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so are you, my brother...and so are you, all my brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The love I feel for my brothers makes me incredibly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you know this love and may you be incredibly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/28/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4968925349565537557?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4968925349565537557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4968925349565537557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4968925349565537557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4968925349565537557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/vivir-feliz-live-happy.html' title='Vivir Feliz/ Live Happy'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7221618054766197140</id><published>2008-12-24T11:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T11:31:29.320-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='felicidad paz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='felices fiestas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy holidays'/><title type='text'>Felices Fiestas/ Happy Holidays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SVJiMjx3ixI/AAAAAAAAAmk/2hZPpAnqw3M/s1600-h/me%26family,2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SVJiMjx3ixI/AAAAAAAAAmk/2hZPpAnqw3M/s200/me%26family,2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283393280761367314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;QUE LES ENVUELVAN EL SILENCIO Y LA TRANQUILIDAD&lt;br /&gt;DE ESTA TEMPORADA...Y QUE LO PASEN CON SUS SERES QUERIDOS!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PAZ Y AMOR Y AUN MAS AMOR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAY YOU BE ENVELOPED BY THE SILENCE AND QUIETUDE THAT EXIST IN THIS SEASON...AND MAY YOU BE WITH YOUR LOVED ONES!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PEACE AND LOVE AND EVEN MORE LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/24/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7221618054766197140?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7221618054766197140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7221618054766197140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7221618054766197140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7221618054766197140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/felices-fiestas-happy-holidays.html' title='Felices Fiestas/ Happy Holidays'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SVJiMjx3ixI/AAAAAAAAAmk/2hZPpAnqw3M/s72-c/me%26family,2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7616144212533132121</id><published>2008-12-20T10:36:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T10:52:11.248-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no llores'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nieve ay'/><title type='text'>¡AY, AY, AY, AY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0RUNbUVII/AAAAAAAAAmE/OyY6-0a4BCc/s1600-h/Ted%27s+car.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 160px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0RUNbUVII/AAAAAAAAAmE/OyY6-0a4BCc/s200/Ted%27s+car.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281896976874755202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;CANTA Y NO LLORES&lt;br /&gt;PORQUE MAÑANA VIENE OTRA TORMENTA&lt;br /&gt;Y EL MARTES TODAVIA OTRA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AY, AY, AY, AY,&lt;br /&gt;VAMOS A TENER UN "WHITE CHRISTMAS"&lt;br /&gt;SIGUE CAYENDO NEVADA TRAS NEVADA&lt;br /&gt;¡¡¡ASI ES LA VIDA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0Sd6BdXpI/AAAAAAAAAmM/4bEIqJuC1TQ/s1600-h/frosty+door.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0Sd6BdXpI/AAAAAAAAAmM/4bEIqJuC1TQ/s200/frosty+door.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281898242976341650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;MEXICO LINDO Y QUERIDO&lt;br /&gt;SI MUERO LEJOS DE TI&lt;br /&gt;QUE DIGAN QUE ESTOY DORMIDA&lt;br /&gt;PERDIDA BAJO LA NIEVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0TTgCSsbI/AAAAAAAAAmU/oNLh4A6ldG4/s1600-h/thermometer.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0TTgCSsbI/AAAAAAAAAmU/oNLh4A6ldG4/s200/thermometer.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281899163713450418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0T9OVjHTI/AAAAAAAAAmc/UdQ9iHl7j_Y/s1600-h/bird+feeder.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0T9OVjHTI/AAAAAAAAAmc/UdQ9iHl7j_Y/s200/bird+feeder.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281899880516885810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(NO TRANSLATION TODAY;&lt;br /&gt;YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/20/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7616144212533132121?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7616144212533132121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7616144212533132121' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7616144212533132121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7616144212533132121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/ay-ay-ay-ay.html' title='¡AY, AY, AY, AY!'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SU0RUNbUVII/AAAAAAAAAmE/OyY6-0a4BCc/s72-c/Ted%27s+car.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2862041644825411529</id><published>2008-12-18T15:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T15:07:43.174-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manejando al trabajo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving to work'/><title type='text'>Manejando al Trabajo/ Driving to Work</title><content type='html'>Manejando al trabajo, voy hacia la glorieta y me doy cuenta que hay mucho tráfico de repente.  Al principio por poco me molesto pero en seguida una música muy bonita y espiritual empieza a sonar en mi ipod y en un dos por tres estoy transformada en una persona tranquila, yendo despacio para poder ver bien mis alrededores y doy las gracias que el universo me ha “forzado” apreciar este momento.  Los carros andan lentos hacia la glorieta y miro los campos a los dos lados de mi, campos ya descansando de un verano de dar su cosecha de elotes y calabazas.  Un poco más allá de los campos están los árboles majestuosos con sus ramas pelonas esperando la próxima nevada…y voy yo, paso a paso llenándome con esta belleza.  Todo lo ordinario puede ser extraordinario si uno para un momento para sentirlo.  Llego a la glorieta y la carretera me envuelve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Driving to Work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving to work, I’m heading toward the rotary and I realize that suddenly there’s a lot of traffic.  At first I almost get upset but right away a beautiful spiritual piece of music comes on my ipod and instantly I am transformed into a peaceful person moving slowly in order to be able to see what is around me and I give thanks to the universe for “forcing me” to appreciate this moment.  The cars are going slowly toward the rotary and I look at the fields on both sides of me, fields that are now resting after a summer of producing corn and pumpkins.  A little bit beyond the fields are the majestic trees with their bare branches waiting for the next snowfall…and I’m going along, step by step filling myself up with this beauty.  Everything ordinary can become extraordinary if you stop for a moment to feel it.  I get to the rotary and the highway swallows me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/18/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2862041644825411529?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2862041644825411529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2862041644825411529' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2862041644825411529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2862041644825411529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/manejando-al-trabajo-driving-to-work.html' title='Manejando al Trabajo/ Driving to Work'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6684537138505057932</id><published>2008-12-16T08:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T08:46:38.438-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='power'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='electricity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><title type='text'>Two Days Without Electricity</title><content type='html'>(This is a translation of yesterday's blog entry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    On December 11th, during the night I heard the sound of heavy branches breaking.  It seemed like someone was cutting them, but how?  It was the middle of the night and raining cats and dogs.  It had rained all day, the monotonous sound of raindrops falling on the earth hour after hour, but the good news was that it wasn’t snow or sleet or hail, just water, nothing else.  What harm could water do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    When I woke up the next day I couldn’t see my digital clock next to my bed.  I turned it toward me, but I could only see darkness.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ah&lt;/span&gt;, I thought, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the power went out&lt;/span&gt;.   Ted was already up and when he came back to the bedroom I told him to get back in bed, without power, what can you do?  We didn’t go back to sleep though; we stayed like that talking a little, waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    If it were simply a matter of living without electricity, that would not be so hard, but we didn’t have heat, nor enough water to shower or brush our teeth even because we have a well and it only works with electricity.  What else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    No stove, (electric stove), no microwave oven, no computer, no radio, no tv, (the tv I didn’t care about since I never watch it), no blender to make our liquid protein breakfast we are used to having in the mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Finally we got tired of being in bed so we got up, Ted to shave in the dark with his battery operated electric shaver and me to look for warm clothes in the closet.  Our breakfast?  We ate bananas with peanut butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I began to think:  How many people in the world live without power and have water several miles from their house (or hut)?  How spoiled we are.  We take everything for granted.  Oh, and besides, I had no telephone because I had changed my service to cable telephone in order to save money but fortunately Ted had phone service and I did have my cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The garage doors normally function with the remote control, but not today.  We had to raise them by hand and they didn’t want to stay up so I had to stand on a bench and hold the door so Ted could get his car out.  He then did the same for me and I left my car out in the pouring rain.  It was still raining, a cold relentless drizzle.  The temperature was at 32 and there was ice on all the branches of the trees.  Now and then the branches broke with the weight of the ice and made that “craack” sound before falling to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Ted went to work and soon called me on the phone to tell me that it was harrowing driving down Liberty Square Road, (a road we must travel on to get out of the neighborhood) because there were wires thrown down all over the street and huge trees fallen on both sides of the road and some lying across the power lines stretching them to their limit.  We were not going to get power back for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I decided to go look for a restaurant in another town where there was power and I found Babico’s Café, a place we eat sometimes.  When I got there it was packed with people, (many surrounding towns were without power), but I was lucky and found a seat at the counter on a round spinning stool, the kind they have at Sanborn’s in Mexico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Later on, since the stream now looked like a river overflowing its banks we realized we could fill buckets with the stream water to use to flush the toilets in the house.  The stream was racing furiously and it was easy to fill the buckets but carrying them back up to the house was another story or maybe we’re just not young anymore.  I felt my butt muscles working really hard and I arrived at the house exhausted.  I couldn’t help thinking about the people who carry buckets of water for miles every day.  How easy is my life, how blessed I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    We went to the movies in the evening more in order to warm ourselves than to watch the movie, but the movie was good and then we had dinner in a nearby restaurant.  We went back home to our cold house and slept under two blankets that night.   The next day we still had no power and the house temperature had dropped down to 42F.  We went out for breakfast and then returned home to pack up because we decided to go to my daughter’s house in Boston about an hour’s drive for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    How wonderful to have heat and be able to take a shower.  We helped my daughter do some painting in one of her rooms and we had dinner at Sol Azteca when Ted told me to call my home phone just to see what would happen with no power.  I did and heard my answering machine turn on and my voice come on.  We couldn’t believe it, so we called the cable company and the electric company and both assured us that the power was back.  We gathered up all our stuff that we had brought so we could stay the night including the cat and returned home.  Every light in the house was on.  Quickly everything returned to normal and I give thanks for light and heat and all the richness that we have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/16/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6684537138505057932?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6684537138505057932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6684537138505057932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6684537138505057932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6684537138505057932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/two-days-without-electricity.html' title='Two Days Without Electricity'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7783670061378539435</id><published>2008-12-14T15:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T15:40:45.675-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frío'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lluvia'/><title type='text'>Dos Días Sin Luz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SUVs1hikgiI/AAAAAAAAAl0/7VeEk65UxGo/s1600-h/tree+on+wires-LibertySquare.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SUVs1hikgiI/AAAAAAAAAl0/7VeEk65UxGo/s320/tree+on+wires-LibertySquare.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279745804954010146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    Durante la noche del 11 de diciembre oía el rompimiento de unas ramas pesadas.  Parecía que alguien estaba cortándolas, pero ¿cómo? Era media noche y llovía a cántaros.  Había llovido todo el día, el sonido monótono de las gotas cayéndose en la tierra hora tras hora, pero lo bueno fue que no era nieve ni aguanieve ni granizo, era agua nada más.  ¿Qué daño podía hacer el agua?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Cuando me desperté el día siguiente no podía ver mi reloj digital al lado de mi cama.  Lo voltee hacia mía, pero sólo vi la oscuridad.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ah&lt;/span&gt;, pensé, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;se fue la luz.&lt;/span&gt;  Teo andaba levantado y cuando regresó a la recámara, le dije que regresara a la cama, sin luz, ¿qué se puede hacer?  No logramos a volvernos a dormir; nos quedamos así, platicando un poco, esperando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Si fuera simplemente vivir sin luz, no sería tan difícil, pero tampoco teníamos calefacción, ni agua suficiente para bañarse ni siquiera cepillarse los dientes porque tenemos pozo y funciona sólo con la electricidad.  ¿Qué más?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   No estufa, (estufa eléctrica), no orno de microondas, no computadora, no radio, no tele, (la tele no me importaba porque nunca la veo), no liquadora para preparar nuestros liquados que siempre tomamos en las mañanas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Por fin nos cansamos de estar en la cama y nos levantamos, Teo para afeitarse en la oscuridad con su máquina de afeitarse de pilas y yo a buscar ropa caliente en nuestro closet.  ¿El desayuno?  Comimos plátanos con crema de cacahuate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Me puse a pensar:  ¿Cuántas personas en el mundo viven sin luz y tienen el agua a varios kilómetros de la casa (o choza)?  Qué malacostumbrados estamos.  Tomamos tanto por sentado.  Oh, y además, tampoco tenía teléfono porque había cambiado mi servicio al cable, el mismo de mi computadora para ahorrar dinero, pero por suerte el teléfono de Teo servía y tenía mi celular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Las puertas de la cochera normalmente funcionan con el control remoto, pero hoy no.  Tuvimos que levantarlas a mano y no querían quedarse arriba, así que mientras Teo sacaba su coche, yo me paraba en un banco deteniendo la puerta.  El hizo lo mismo para mí y dejé mi coche afuera en la lluvia.  Todavía llovía.  La temperatura estaba en cero (centigrados) y había hielo en todas las ramas de los árboles;  de vez en cuando se rompían por el peso del hielo y hacían ese ruido “craac” antes de caerse al suelo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Teo fue al trabajo y al rato me llamó por teléfono para decirme que era pavoroso manejar por la calle Liberty Square, (una calle que se tiene que usar para salir del vecindario) porque había cables tirados por todos lados y árboles enormes tumbados de los dos lados de la calle y algunos acostados encima de los cables estirándolos hasta lo máximo.  Así que no nos iba a regresar la luz por mucho tiempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Decidí salir a buscar un restaurante en otro pueblo donde había luz y encontré Babico’s Café, un lugar donde vamos a comer de vez en cuando.  Cuando llegué estaba atascado de gente, pero tuve suerte y encontré asiento en la parte donde tienen bancos redondos sin espalda que se giran, como tienen en Sanborn’s en México.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Más tarde como el arroyo ahora parecía río y corría desbordándose, nos dimos cuenta que podíamos llenar unas cubetas de agua para usar en el baño para limpiar los excusados con un chorro de agua.  El agua del arroyo corría furiosamente y fue fácil llenar las cubetas, pero el momento de llevarlas arriba hasta la casa no era tan fácil o tal vez no éramos tan jóvenes.  Teo llevó dos cubetas  a la vez y yo una.  Sentía los músculos de las nalgas trabajar fuerte y llegué a la casa agotada.  No pude evitar de pensar en la gente que lleva cubetas de agua por kilómetros y a diario.  Qué fácil es mi vida, qué bendecida soy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Fuimos al cine en la noche más para calentarnos que para ver la película, pero fue buena la película y después cenamos en un restaurante cerca del cine.  Regresamos a la casa fría y nos acostamos con dos cobijas encima de la cama.  El día siguiente todavía no había luz.  Salimos a desayunarnos y a regresar para empacar porque decidimos ir a la casa de mi hija en Boston, como una hora manejando de nuestra casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Qué rico tener calefacción y poder bañarse.  Le ayudamos a mi hija pintar un cuarto y cenamos en el Sol Azteca cuando Teo me dijo que llamara mi número de teléfono en casa para ver que se oyía.  Lo hice y escuché mi máquina de contestar con mi voz y todo.  Entonces llamamos a la compañia del cable y a la compañia de luz para estar seguros y sí fue cierto.  Ya había regresado la luz.  Juntamos todo lo que habíamos llevado para quedarnos la noche con mi hija, incluyendo el gato y regresamos a la casa.  Todas las luces en la casa estaban prendidas.  Rapidito todo volvió a la normalidad y doy las gracias, muchas gracias por luz y calor y toda la riqueza que tenemos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SUVutTSlKxI/AAAAAAAAAl8/CWoizorUA28/s1600-h/Split+tree,+Liberty+Square.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SUVutTSlKxI/AAAAAAAAAl8/CWoizorUA28/s200/Split+tree,+Liberty+Square.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279747862713150226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;(Tomorrow English)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/14/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7783670061378539435?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7783670061378539435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7783670061378539435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7783670061378539435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7783670061378539435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/dos-das-sin-luz.html' title='Dos Días Sin Luz'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SUVs1hikgiI/AAAAAAAAAl0/7VeEk65UxGo/s72-c/tree+on+wires-LibertySquare.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2465774665216460319</id><published>2008-12-10T08:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:39:00.950-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amiga friend'/><title type='text'>Una amiga/ A friend</title><content type='html'>No puedo dejar de pensar en mi amiga que falleció hace unos pocos meses.  La conocí en el año 1975 cuando era la maestra de “Sunday School” de mi hija, Rima.  Nos hicimos amigas en seguida y cuando nos cambiamos al mismo pueblo de donde vivía ella con su familia, mis dos hijas y sus dos hijos jugaban juntos y asistieron a la misma escuela de primaria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joyce y su esposo Alan siempre iban a nuestras fiestas.  En ese entonces hacíamos muchas fiestas en casa y casi nunca faltaban ir a las fiestas para celebrar con nosotros.  Fueron a mi cumpleaños de los cuarenta y también Joyce estuvo en mi fiesta de los cincuenta. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joyce y Alan no tomaban alcohol ni fumaban cigarros, pero aún así disfrutaban del ambiente de los demás que tomábamos vino y cerveza en nuestras fiestas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joyce era una persona alegre, positiva, siempre de buen humor y siempre vestida muy elegante.   Cuando entraba en un cuarto era un rayo del sol.  Nunca criticó a nadie.  Recordando mi comportamiento en el pasado me doy cuenta que yo me quejaba mucho y juzgaba a la gente, pues, bastante, pero Joyce me aguantó y siguió siendo mi amiga.  Qué pena pensar que era tan criticona cuando Joyce toleraba todo y era tan tranquila de carácter.  Podemos aprender mucho de nuestros amigos.  Cuando sus hijos iban a la universidad, ella empezó a trabajar en bienes y raíces y nos ayudó a Teo y a mí encontrar nuestra casa.  Un día me ayudó colgar una cortina en la sala porque tenía mucha sabiduría acerca del diseño interior de las casas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sólo tenía unos años más que yo cuando murió.  Jamás hubiera pensado que ella no iba a llegar a la vejez, tan sana que parecía.  No sé de qué murió, pero realmente no importa.  El hecho es que no sabemos cuánto tiempo tenemos  y por más viejos que nos ponemos más amigos vamos a perder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay que aprovechar cada momento de esta vida, de apreciar a los amigos que tenemos, porque nunca sabes….nunca sabes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mando amor y paz a todos mis amigos y los guardo muy profundo en mi corazón.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/10/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2465774665216460319?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2465774665216460319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2465774665216460319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2465774665216460319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2465774665216460319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/una-amiga-friend.html' title='Una amiga/ A friend'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-5133726113356554978</id><published>2008-12-07T18:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T18:24:35.707-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life hymn'/><title type='text'>As if my life were...</title><content type='html'>When I was young I went around as if my life were a movie and I was the star—besides wanting to be an actress in the theater.  My life/movie wasn’t so interesting really, but I had a big imagination and I imagined myself the heroine of my “story.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say that life is not a dress rehearsal, but, gosh, we have to live totally improvising, without a rehearsal of any kind, and I wonder, how many times have we wanted to repeat some “scene” in order to say something different or change our role?  It’s not fair.  Too bad, the past is over and we have to continue and try to “act” better next time.  So then comes “forgiveness” or “asking for forgiveness.”  When we don’t act well and we want to change the scene but since you can’t, the next scene that comes along is the forgiveness scene…and that’s the way we go, each time improving our “acting.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s inevitable to makes mistakes in this life without rehearsals but we shouldn’t put ourselves down because of them because tomorrow is another day, another chance to improve our &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;acting&lt;/span&gt; and it’s possible, of course it’s possible to improve.  One way to make this happen is to give thanks for everything we have including the moments when we think we have ruined everything.  When we are grateful we are not judging and we begin to accept everything as it is.  It’s funny but I see forgiveness as the opposite of judgment.  If I am forgiving I am not judging and I feel better.  The trick is to learn from our mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day we were walking in the woods and we saw a stream that was full and overflowing and afterward we sat down to meditate there.  It wasn’t cold and a hymn from my childhood came into my mind, all of the verses and the words touched me very deeply because they expressed exactly what I am living right now in my present life.  I hadn’t thought about that hymn in more than forty years, but in that moment the lyrics came to me word by word and not missing any verse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I say my life is not interesting?  No true—when these things happen I find it very interesting.  So that’s the way it is.  Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/7/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-5133726113356554978?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/5133726113356554978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=5133726113356554978' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5133726113356554978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5133726113356554978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/as-if-my-life-were.html' title='As if my life were...'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1993247682281491322</id><published>2008-12-06T14:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T14:15:56.024-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vida ensayo película actuación'/><title type='text'>Como si mi vida fuera...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/STrNglv6UVI/AAAAAAAAAcs/cRYQDHHvIJw/s1600-h/Stream,+Roll.+M.+close-up.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/STrNglv6UVI/AAAAAAAAAcs/cRYQDHHvIJw/s200/Stream,+Roll.+M.+close-up.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276755873190531410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando era joven andaba como si mi vida fuera una película y yo era la estrella—además quería ser actriz en el teatro.  Mi vida/película no era tan interesante que digamos, pero yo tenía mucha imaginación y me creía la heroína de mi “historia.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dicen que la vida no es un ensayo final, pero, caramba, la tenemos que vivir improvisando totalmente, sin ensayo alguno y pregunto ¿cuántas veces hemos querido repetir alguna “escena” para decir algo distinto o cambiar nuestro papel?  No es justo.  Ni modo, el pasado ya pasó y tenemos que seguir y tratar de “actuar” mejor después.  Entonces, por eso llega el “perdón,”  o el “pedir perdón.”  Cuando no &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;actuamos&lt;/span&gt; bien y queremos cambiar la escena pero como no se puede, la próxima escena viene siendo la escena del &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;perdón&lt;/span&gt; o del &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pedir perdón&lt;/span&gt;….y así andamos, cada vez mejorando nuestra “actuación.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es inevitable cometer errores en esta vida sin ensayos pero no hay que despreciarnos por estos hechos porque mañana es otro día, otra chance de mejorar nuestra &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;actuación&lt;/span&gt; y se puede, sí se puede mejorarnos.  Una manera de llevar a cabo esta meta es dar las gracias por todo lo que tenemos, inclusive los momentos en que pensamos que lo hemos echado a perder.  Con el agradecimiento ya no estamos juzgando y empezamos a aceptar todo como es.  Es curioso pero veo el perdón opuesto al juzgar.  Si perdono no juzgo y me siento mejor.  El chiste es aprender de nuestros errores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El otro día caminamos en el bosque y vimos el arroyo bien lleno y corriendo fuerte y después nos sentamos a meditar allá.  No hacía frío y un himno de mi niñez me vino a la mente, todos los versos y la letra me tocó muy profundo porque expresó exactamente lo que estoy viviendo en mi vida presente.  No había pensado en ese himno desde hace más de cuarenta años, pero en aquel momento la letra me llegó palabra por palabra y sin faltar ningún verso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Dije que mi vida no es interesante?  Miento—cuando estas cosas pasan se me hace que es muy interesante.  Así es.  Punto final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/6/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Tomorrow English.  Happy birthday, Joyce, wherever you are!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1993247682281491322?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1993247682281491322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1993247682281491322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1993247682281491322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1993247682281491322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/como-si-mi-vida-fuera.html' title='Como si mi vida fuera...'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/STrNglv6UVI/AAAAAAAAAcs/cRYQDHHvIJw/s72-c/Stream,+Roll.+M.+close-up.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2863290723008233309</id><published>2008-12-03T14:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T14:09:21.341-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='another day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='special'/><title type='text'>It's just another day</title><content type='html'>It’s just another day, a day like any other day, a day with sunshine, a day with fresh air, a crisp fall day as I awake into it, as I fall into the day and step a little differently than yesterday because part of me wants to see this day as something special…though it’s not special really.  I give it all the specialness it has for me.  I make the day what it is.  The day is nothing but what I give it, but how I choose to perceive it, and so it goes.  The day moves along, I do my things, I go here, I go there, I sink into my thoughts and try to rearrange them without much luck.  My thoughts still seem to take me on the ride they choose, not necessarily the ride I would prefer, but oh, well, that’s the way it is and I muddle along almost conscious.  I manage to do what must be done and stop occasionally to give thanks, to remember my source.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could just be settling into &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fear of the future&lt;/span&gt; and find myself mumbling, “Oh, my God, oh, my God,” remembering how he would say, “Oh &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; God,” and I would laugh because he always had a way to make me laugh even when I thought times were rough.  It’s good to laugh at ourselves, so that’s what I choose to do this time.  You won’t find me mumbling &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;oh, my God&lt;/span&gt;, honest, I promise.  It is what it is…the day, the sun, me, the air, the breeze that caresses my face.  It was a long time ago that this baby was born on this day at 8:30pm and so what! Another baby among millions of babies.  What are we doing here?  Why are we doing this?  Why is this day special?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn’t special.  It’s just another day, but it is a day I will remember because others remember me on this day, others reach out and touch me and wish me well and I value their touch and their good wishes, and I guess that’s what makes it special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I will sip my tea and look out the window at the day that moves and breathes and I will embrace it and cherish it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/3/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Otro día español)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2863290723008233309?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2863290723008233309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2863290723008233309' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2863290723008233309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2863290723008233309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-just-another-day.html' title='It&apos;s just another day'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3669303481327337949</id><published>2008-12-01T07:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T07:21:45.850-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hijas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughters'/><title type='text'>My Beautiful Daughters/ Mis Hijas Hermosas</title><content type='html'>I remember all the days we spent our lives&lt;br /&gt;Taking photographs of everything we did,&lt;br /&gt;As if the camera could have captured&lt;br /&gt;All the moments of your childhood&lt;br /&gt;And keep them all for good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is unforgiving and sends us on our way&lt;br /&gt;Sparkles in your laughter shine to another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All your childhood dreams have melted into now;&lt;br /&gt;Responsabilities, you’re pillars of society.&lt;br /&gt;Memories are powerful, my sweet darling girls,&lt;br /&gt;Hard to realize that you’re what we once were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is unforgiving…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look back and wonder now where are those girls?&lt;br /&gt;Precious little girls, my girls with golden curls.&lt;br /&gt;Then you answer me with your knowing heart and mind.&lt;br /&gt;You say we’re right here (mom), we’re right here all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the camera doesn’t lie in that moment you are cast.&lt;br /&gt;For the camera captures you, a fleeting moment from the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mis Hijas Hermosas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me acuerdo todos los días que pasamos la vida&lt;br /&gt;Sacando fotografías de todo lo que hacíamos&lt;br /&gt;Como si la camera pudiera haber capturado&lt;br /&gt;Todos los momentos de su niñez&lt;br /&gt;Y guardarlos para siempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El tiempo no perdona y nos manda para allá&lt;br /&gt;Los destellos de su risa brillan otro día.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todas las memorias de su niñez se han derretido hasta este momento&lt;br /&gt;Las responsabilidades, son pilares de la sociedad&lt;br /&gt;Las memorias son potentes, mis hijas lindas y dulces&lt;br /&gt;Es difícil darnos cuenta que ustedes son lo que fuimos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El tiempo no perdona…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miro para atrás y me pregunto ¿dónde estarán aquellas niñas,&lt;br /&gt;Niñas preciosas con cabello dorado?&lt;br /&gt;Entonces me contestan con su sabiduria,&lt;br /&gt;Dicen –Aquí estamos, mamá, aquí estamos todo el tiempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero la camera no miente en aquel momento que están capturadas,&lt;br /&gt;La cámera las captura en aquel momento fugaz del pasado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;12/1/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3669303481327337949?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3669303481327337949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3669303481327337949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3669303481327337949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3669303481327337949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-beautiful-daughters-mis-hijas.html' title='My Beautiful Daughters/ Mis Hijas Hermosas'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1299371296656352976</id><published>2008-11-26T15:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T15:38:39.201-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='listen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='after the rain'/><title type='text'>After the Rain/ Después de la Lluvia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SS2yitx7G1I/AAAAAAAAAcU/cOJ9Vy9uR30/s1600-h/Stream+after+the+rain.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 153px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SS2yitx7G1I/AAAAAAAAAcU/cOJ9Vy9uR30/s200/Stream+after+the+rain.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273067048195005266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the rain,&lt;br /&gt;after I buy the groceries,&lt;br /&gt;after supper,&lt;br /&gt;after the sun goes down,&lt;br /&gt;after the lights come on,&lt;br /&gt;after we talk about our spiritual growth,&lt;br /&gt;after he tells me I’ve changed—things don’t upset me like before, after we have tea,&lt;br /&gt;after we finish with the computer,&lt;br /&gt;after we go to bed,&lt;br /&gt;after the night air stiffens,&lt;br /&gt;after the house gets quiet,&lt;br /&gt;after I fall asleep,&lt;br /&gt;after I dream about freshly mowed lawns and people I don’t know,&lt;br /&gt;after a new day dawns with frost on the ground,&lt;br /&gt;after I get up to clean,&lt;br /&gt;after I realize how incredibly happy I am,&lt;br /&gt;after I know I am loved,&lt;br /&gt;after I make the soup,&lt;br /&gt;after I pet the cat,&lt;br /&gt;after I polish the candle holders,&lt;br /&gt;after I go down to see the rushing stream,&lt;br /&gt;after I walk the labyrinth,&lt;br /&gt;after I don’t mind the cold,&lt;br /&gt;after I look back at the house and know I am blessed,&lt;br /&gt;after I dig out my ingrown toenail,&lt;br /&gt;after I sit down at the computer,&lt;br /&gt;after I listen,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after I listen,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after I be still…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SS2zMl83x1I/AAAAAAAAAcc/2AfPgzKPfOU/s1600-h/woods+%26+house.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SS2zMl83x1I/AAAAAAAAAcc/2AfPgzKPfOU/s200/woods+%26+house.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273067767647946578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;11/26/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1299371296656352976?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1299371296656352976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1299371296656352976' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1299371296656352976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1299371296656352976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/11/after-rain-despus-de-la-lluvia.html' title='After the Rain/ Después de la Lluvia'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SS2yitx7G1I/AAAAAAAAAcU/cOJ9Vy9uR30/s72-c/Stream+after+the+rain.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2303606093939386650</id><published>2008-11-25T21:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T21:33:08.879-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lluvia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rain'/><title type='text'>La lluvia/ The rain</title><content type='html'>Hoy llovió todo el día...no exagero, todo todo todo el día sin parar, pero no hacía frío...qué milagro, de veras, nada de frío, sobre todo en comparación al frío que hizo antes, unos días inaguantables, unos días como tenemos en enero o en febrero.  No me quejo, simplemente reporto, es un reportaje del clima acá.  (ja ja)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, pero la lluvia, una lluvia suave, tranquila, acariciando todo, hinchando los arroyos, limpiando las calles, besando la tierra, una lluvia sexy que digamos, y estuve tranquila todo el día, contenta con esta lluvia, enamorada de ella, apreciando todo lo que me da la vida.  Fui al supermercado para comprar los alimentos que necesitamos para el jueves, nuestro Día de Acción de Gracias, fui a dar unas clases, etc. y aunque salí varias veces en la lluvia, no me molestaba nada andar en ella, porque sentía el amor de la lluvia como si estuviera abrazándome.  Punto final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;11/25/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry, English another day)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2303606093939386650?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2303606093939386650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2303606093939386650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2303606093939386650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2303606093939386650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/11/la-lluvia-rain.html' title='La lluvia/ The rain'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4911636876865530475</id><published>2008-11-18T13:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T13:36:23.000-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>What do you want for your birthday?</title><content type='html'>(Teo me pregunta y no sé qué decirle...entonces, me puse a pensar)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want joy that stays with me always,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want peace, a deep sense of the eternal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want my heart to be full of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a smile to be on my face more often than a frown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want all my ruminations about the past to melt away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to let go of thoughts that do not serve me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to sing every day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know who I am…really&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know that everything is perfect,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;exactly as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the things I want for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May they be so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;11/18/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4911636876865530475?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4911636876865530475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4911636876865530475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4911636876865530475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4911636876865530475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-do-you-want-for-your-birthday.html' title='What do you want for your birthday?'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-920213828847159429</id><published>2008-11-07T09:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T10:05:23.583-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hojas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leaves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vida'/><title type='text'>Wet Leaves/ Hojas Mojadas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SRRXs5vmXjI/AAAAAAAAAYs/TFm5mP3FKUE/s1600-h/wet+grass,+driveway.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SRRXs5vmXjI/AAAAAAAAAYs/TFm5mP3FKUE/s200/wet+grass,+driveway.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265930293229280818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Wet leaves on the soggy grass.&lt;br /&gt;My labyrinth feels heavy, waterlogged&lt;br /&gt;As rust-colored leaves rain down over me&lt;br /&gt;Greeting me in this balmy, overcast morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do my run today on the pavement&lt;br /&gt;Instead of the soft earth, which I prefer.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t feel like fall.&lt;br /&gt;There is no crispiness to the air&lt;br /&gt;No chill that gives a hint of what’s to come.&lt;br /&gt;Today could be a day in early May or late April.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not complaining.&lt;br /&gt;On the contrary, I am grateful.&lt;br /&gt;I welcome the humidity,&lt;br /&gt;The heavy softness that caresses my skin&lt;br /&gt;As I sweat during my morning workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come inside where Sammy is waiting for me&lt;br /&gt;Purring his “hello.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I breathe deeply.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, my God,” I think.  “How beautiful is my life.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hojas Mojadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hojas mojadas en el pasto empapado.&lt;br /&gt;Mi laberinto parece pesado, inundado&lt;br /&gt;Mientras las hojas de color óxido me llueven,&lt;br /&gt;Saludándome en esta mañana nublada y apacible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy hago mi corrida en el pavimiento&lt;br /&gt;En vez de la tierra suave que prefiero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No parece otoño.&lt;br /&gt;El aire no está crujiente, no hay una frescura&lt;br /&gt;Que da una pista de lo que va a venir.&lt;br /&gt;Hoy puede ser un día del principio de mayo&lt;br /&gt;O uno de los últimos días de abril.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No me quejo.  Al contrario, estoy agradecida.&lt;br /&gt;Doy la bienvenida a la humedad, la suavedad pesada&lt;br /&gt;Que me abraza la piel mientras sudo&lt;br /&gt;Durante mi período de ejercicio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entro en la casa donde Sammy me espera&lt;br /&gt;Ronroneando su saludo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respiro profundo.&lt;br /&gt;“Dios mío,” pienso, “Qué bella es mi vida.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SRRYfukWl8I/AAAAAAAAAY0/9tJwnGmWqSk/s1600-h/wet+grass,+leaves,+Nov..JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SRRYfukWl8I/AAAAAAAAAY0/9tJwnGmWqSk/s200/wet+grass,+leaves,+Nov..JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265931166402648002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;11/7/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-920213828847159429?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/920213828847159429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=920213828847159429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/920213828847159429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/920213828847159429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/11/wet-leaves-hojas-mojadas.html' title='Wet Leaves/ Hojas Mojadas'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SRRXs5vmXjI/AAAAAAAAAYs/TFm5mP3FKUE/s72-c/wet+grass,+driveway.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-30626047368906427</id><published>2008-11-05T09:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T09:45:08.850-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a new leader'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thank you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gracias'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='un líder nuevo'/><title type='text'>Un Líder Nuevo/ A New Leader</title><content type='html'>GRACIAS AL UNIVERSO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRACIAS A LA TIERRA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRACIAS A LOS ESTADOS AZULES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRACIAS A LA GENTE QUE QUIERE UN CAMBIO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRACIAS A USTEDES, GRACIAS A MI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRACIAS A UN FUTURO POSITIVO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRACIAS, GRACIAS, GRACIAS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU TO THE UNIVERSE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU TO THE EARTH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU TO THE BLUE STATES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU TO THE PEOPLE WHO WANT A CHANGE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU TO YOU ALL, THANK YOU TO ME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU TO A POSITIVE FUTURE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;11/5/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-30626047368906427?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/30626047368906427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=30626047368906427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/30626047368906427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/30626047368906427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/11/un-lder-nuevo-new-leader.html' title='Un Líder Nuevo/ A New Leader'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-5048239841686130359</id><published>2008-10-28T09:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T09:29:13.430-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maestros'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teachers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visitantes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visitors'/><title type='text'>Los Visitantes en Mi Vida/ The Visitors in My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SQcS4XB93WI/AAAAAAAAAYk/L1QYTDnnniE/s1600-h/My+rock+sculpture.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SQcS4XB93WI/AAAAAAAAAYk/L1QYTDnnniE/s200/My+rock+sculpture.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262195449069952354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo sólo soy un visitante aquí en este planeta, en este momento, habitando este cuerpo, haciendo lo que creo que debo hacer, a veces haciendo lo que quiero hacer sin pensar en el porvenir, a veces luchando para “hacerlo correcto.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Después, te conozco a ti, en el momento exacto para enseñarme lo que necesito aprender o tal vez yo sirva también como tu maestra y andamos juntos por el momento hasta que sea la hora de irnos o cambiar la energía entre nosotros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada visitante que llega a mi mundo, le doy la bienvenida porque todos son mis maestros y agradezco su presencia y su energía y valgo nuestra conexión.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Visitors in My Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just a visitor here on this planet, at this time, inhabiting this body, doing what I think I should do, sometimes doing what I want to do without thinking about tomorrow, sometimes struggling to “get it right.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I meet you, at exactly the right moment to teach me what I need to learn, or perhaps I serve also as your teacher and we move together for awhile until it is time to move on or change the energy between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every visitor who comes into my sphere is welcome for you are all my teachers and I give thanks for your presence and your energy and I value our connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;10/28/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-5048239841686130359?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/5048239841686130359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=5048239841686130359' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5048239841686130359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5048239841686130359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/10/los-visitantes-en-mi-vida-visitors-in.html' title='Los Visitantes en Mi Vida/ The Visitors in My Life'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SQcS4XB93WI/AAAAAAAAAYk/L1QYTDnnniE/s72-c/My+rock+sculpture.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4989456158842575728</id><published>2008-10-23T09:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T09:25:34.716-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensamientos'/><title type='text'>Pensamientos/ Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Todo lo que eres es el resultado de todo lo que has pensado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that you are is a result of all that you have thought.&lt;br /&gt;                                                             --Buddha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Según piense uno, así será en el corazón.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a man thinketh, in his heart so is he.&lt;br /&gt;                                           --the Bible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada pensamiento que pensamos está creando nuestro futuro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every thought we think is creating our future.&lt;br /&gt;                                       --Louise Hay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El juego de la vida es un juego de bumeranes.  Nuestros pensamientos, acciones y palabras nos regresan tarde o temprano con una exactitud pasamada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game of life is a game of boomerangs.  Our thoughts, deeds and words return to us sooner or later with astounding accuracy.&lt;br /&gt;                                         --Florence Scover Shinn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tú eres la causa, no el efecto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the cause, not the effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;10/23/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4989456158842575728?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4989456158842575728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4989456158842575728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4989456158842575728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4989456158842575728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/10/pensamientos-thoughts.html' title='Pensamientos/ Thoughts'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6729648293084369962</id><published>2008-10-20T10:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T10:07:29.343-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iluminacion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sabio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enlightenment'/><title type='text'>Buda y Sammy/ Sammy and Buddha</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SPyP_j52pdI/AAAAAAAAAYc/n9izPHLOM00/s1600-h/Sammy+%26+Buddha.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SPyP_j52pdI/AAAAAAAAAYc/n9izPHLOM00/s320/Sammy+%26+Buddha.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259236786994324946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;¿Ya llegaste a la iluminación, Sammy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Sí o no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qué sabio te ves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you reach enlightenment, Sammy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes or no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How wise you look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;10/20/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6729648293084369962?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6729648293084369962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6729648293084369962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6729648293084369962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6729648293084369962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/10/buda-y-sammy-sammy-and-buddha.html' title='Buda y Sammy/ Sammy and Buddha'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SPyP_j52pdI/AAAAAAAAAYc/n9izPHLOM00/s72-c/Sammy+%26+Buddha.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-4563497396302260803</id><published>2008-10-15T12:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T12:45:51.771-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='desafio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='29 day challenge'/><title type='text'>Otro Desafio/ Another Challenge</title><content type='html'>El CAMBIO está pasando.  Estamos buscando otra manera de ser, otro modo de existir en el mundo y sí lo estamos encontrando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿La prueba?  “&lt;a href="http://givingchallenge.ning.com"&gt;29 Day Giving Challenge.&lt;/a&gt;” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta epoca en que vivimos es la epoca del individual, de veras, una sola persona puede empezar un movimiento que atrae a muchos.  Pasa a diario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El otro día encontré el “&lt;a href="http://givingchallenge.ning.com"&gt;29 Day Giving Challenge,” el Desafío de 29 Días de dar,&lt;/a&gt; o sea, la idea es dar una cosa a alguien todos los días por 29 días y después escribir tu historia de cómo este acto ha cambiado tu vida.  Buena idea, ya me inscribí.  El fin del plazo es el 29 de noviembre de este año.  Cami Walker, la mujer que empezó este desafío va a crear un libro de las historias que recibe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La pregunta es:  (porque siempre hay una pregunta),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿QUÉ TENGO QUE DAR?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puede ser un regalo, claro, pero también puede ser algo tan sencillo como una sonrisa, o abrir la puerta para alguien o desearle un buen día o decir a tu amado o amada “te quiero.”  Las posibilidades son infinitas.  Cami Walker sugiere que des algo que piensas que no puedes vivir sin esa cosa.   Hmmm….El chiste es: se debe dar sin esperar nada, dar sin imponer condiciones.  ¿Cómo se siente dar así?  Vamos a ver.  (Después de mis 29 días voy a escribir de mi experiencia).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANOTHER CHALLENGE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shift is happening.  We are looking for another way to be, another way to exist in the world and we are finding it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The proof?  &lt;a href="http://givingchallenge.ning.com"&gt;“The 29 Day Giving Challenge.&lt;/a&gt;”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This era we are living in is the era of the Individual, really, one person can start a whole movement that many others then join.  It’s happening every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I found The &lt;a href="http://givingchallenge.ning.com"&gt;29 Day Giving Challenge&lt;/a&gt;.  The idea is to give one thing to someone every day for 29 days and then write your story about how this act has changed your life.  Great idea, I signed up.  The deadline is November 29, 2008.  Cami Walker, the woman who started this challenge is going to put together a book of the stories she receives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is:  (because there is always a question)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT SHOULD I GIVE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can be a gift, or course, but also something as simple as a smile or opening the door for someone or wishing them a nice day, or telling your loved one you love him or her.  The possibilities are infinite.  Cami Walker suggests giving something that you think you can’t live without.  Hmmm….the idea is to give without expecting anything in return, give without conditions.  How does it feel to give like that?  We’ll see.  (After my 29 days I will write about my experience).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;10/15/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-4563497396302260803?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/4563497396302260803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=4563497396302260803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4563497396302260803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/4563497396302260803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/10/otro-desafio-another-challenge.html' title='Otro Desafio/ Another Challenge'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-8918312175261212829</id><published>2008-10-13T09:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T09:56:59.495-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cambio change amor love'/><title type='text'>Cambio a Amor/Change to Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SPNTFKvY3qI/AAAAAAAAAYU/aH-_tbJDe_M/s1600-h/Luna+ma%C3%B1ana.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SPNTFKvY3qI/AAAAAAAAAYU/aH-_tbJDe_M/s200/Luna+ma%C3%B1ana.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256636538319068834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;El cambio no viene de afuera.  ¿Quieres un cambio?  ¿Quieres algo diferente en tu vida?  Sólo tienes que cambiar tu percepción, cambiar la manera en que miras el mundo.  El mundo simplemente ES, sólo ES.  No es ni cruel ni amable.  Es lo que tú &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;crees&lt;/span&gt; que es.  Nosotros podemos escoger cómo mirarlo.  Y cuando miramos con los ojos y el corazón de amor, todo lo que vemos es amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Todo Lo Que Necesitas Es Amor.”  ¿No es una canción de los Beatles?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo hermoso es: ya lo tenemos.  Ya tenemos el amor.  Sólo tenemos que decidir verlo.  Es tan fácil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change to Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change does not come from the outside.  Do you want change?  Do you want something different in your life?  You only have to change your perception, change the way you look at the world.  The world just IS, it simply IS.  It’s not cruel or nice.  It is what you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt; it is.  It’s up to us how we choose to look at it.  And when we look out with loving eyes and heart, all we see is love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“All You Need is Love.”  Isn’t that a Beatle song?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty is: we already have it.  We already have love.  We just have to choose to see it.  It’s that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;10/13/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-8918312175261212829?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/8918312175261212829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=8918312175261212829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8918312175261212829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/8918312175261212829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/10/cambio-amorchange-to-love.html' title='Cambio a Amor/Change to Love'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SPNTFKvY3qI/AAAAAAAAAYU/aH-_tbJDe_M/s72-c/Luna+ma%C3%B1ana.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7271790062379201253</id><published>2008-10-02T17:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T17:09:32.115-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lección'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='piedritas sanitarias'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lesson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kitty litter'/><title type='text'>La Lección/ The Lesson</title><content type='html'>Voy de compras para comprar “kitty litter” (piedritas sanitarias).  Mientras estoy en la tienda encuentro algunas cosas que me hacían falta y las meto en mi carrito.  Cuando llego a la casa me doy cuenta que falta una cosa.  Reviso el recibo y veo que sí me la cobraron pero no está.  Voy a tener que regresar a la tienda más tarde, pero primero me toca dar una clase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me pregunto “¿por qué me pasó esto?”  Seguramente hay una razón.  Hay otra razón por regresar a la tienda pero no tengo la menor idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Después de dar la clase regreso a la tienda.  Me pongo en cola y la mujer adelante de mí me dice de repente, “Le conozco a usted pero no me acuerdo dónde.”  La miro bien y también la reconozco.  Le digo, “La segundaria cuando era maestra.  Saliste en la obra que dirigí.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, sí,” dice, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Maricela de la Luz Lights the World.&lt;/span&gt;”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirigí esa obra de teatro donde trabajé con los niños de primer y segundo año de la segundaria hace diez años.  En ese entonces era maestra de español y francés y también enseñaba una clase de actuación.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me acuerdo bien de esta “niña,” mujer ahora porque era obesa y una vez se puso a llorar durante un ensayo porque un niño en el grupo le habló mal llamándole “gorda.”  Todavía es obesa, pero hoy, HOY la lección para mí fue así:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que cuenta es lo que somos por dentro, no por fuera.  Los pocos minutos que platicamos allá paradas en la cola me dejaron ver la luz que es ella, porque ella tiene una manera de ser tan hermosa, sincera, buena que logré a olvidar el cuerpo y ver sólo su alma y el amor que es de verdad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doy las gracias por haber regresado a la tienda.  (Y sí, tenían guardado el artículo que me había faltado cuando llegué a la casa).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Lesson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to buy some kitty litter.  While I’m in the store I find a few other things I need and put them in my shopping cart.  When I get home I notice that one item is not there.  I check my receipt and see that I was charged for it but it’s not there.  I’m going to have to go back to the store later, but first I have to go teach a class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder “why did this happen?”  Surely there must be a reason, some other reason I have to go back to the store, but I have no idea what it could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my class I go back to the store.  I stand in line and the woman in front of me suddenly says, “I know you but I can’t remember from where.”  I look closely at her and recognize her too.  Then I say, “You were in the play I directed.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yeah, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maricela de la Luz Lights the World&lt;/span&gt;.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I directed that play with the 7th and 8th graders ten years ago when I was a Spanish and French teacher and I also taught an acting class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember this “girl” very well, now a woman, because she was obese and one time she started to cry because a boy in the group was mean to her and called her “fat.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is still obese but today, TODAY the lesson for me was this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What matters is what we are inside, not outside.  The few minutes we stood there talking allowed me to see the light in her, because she has a way to be that is beautiful, sincere and good and I managed to look beyond the body and see her soul and the love that she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful for having to go back to the store.  (And by the way, they had my article waiting for me to go back and pick it up).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;10/2/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7271790062379201253?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7271790062379201253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7271790062379201253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7271790062379201253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7271790062379201253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/10/la-leccin-lesson.html' title='La Lección/ The Lesson'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6186791344038134500</id><published>2008-09-29T09:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T09:33:36.796-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='palabras'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='origen'/><title type='text'>Cuando las palabras...</title><content type='html'>Cuando las palabras salen de la boca o de la pluma o de los dedos en las teclas, en realidad, ¿qué quieren decir?  Como una obra de teatro escrito por Chekhov, las palabras tienen niveles y siempre hay un nivel más profundo debajo de las frases que uno expresa.  Cuando hablas, piensas que estás expresando una idea del mundo de la “forma” (según Eckhart Tolle), de este mundo que vemos con nuestros ojos del cuerpo, y puede ser que sí tus palabras expresan algo en un nivel emocional, pero hay otro nivel, un nivel espiritual y las mismas palabras dicen otra cosa distinta.  ¿De dónde vienen las palabras?  ¿De tu mente?  Tu mente forma parte de la Mente, la Esencia o la Totalidad del Universo.  Con razón quieren decir más de lo que piensas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué quiere decir el poeta…….de verdad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me pongo a pensar en estas palabras de un poeta que conozco:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Soy yo, él que te busca cada día.&lt;br /&gt;Soy ese al que acompañas cada noche&lt;br /&gt;Aquel al que iluminas su camino&lt;br /&gt;Revelas su existencia en su sombra&lt;br /&gt;Provocado por tu brillo.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No me extrañes, estoy contigo&lt;br /&gt;en tus radiantes pensamientos.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿No será  la Luz (o Dios) que me habla con las siguientes palabras?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ven, sal de tu letargo, olvida tu tristeza&lt;br /&gt;déjame secar tus lágrimas, déjame espantarte el frío.&lt;br /&gt;Siénteme en tu piel…demuestra que me quieres&lt;br /&gt;Te traeré de la obscuridad, daré brillo a tu sonrisa&lt;br /&gt;Pondré al descubierto la verdad de tu vida…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O esta poesía:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Aquí estoy para aliviar tus dolores&lt;br /&gt;Aquí estoy para sofocar tus calores, para aquietar tus inquietudes&lt;br /&gt;Aquí estoy para verme reflejado en tus ojos…&lt;br /&gt;Y no me iré nunca aunque tú lo quisieras nunca sucedería,&lt;br /&gt;Sin ti, simplemente no soy.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Digo que nunca estamos solos, que somos parte de Uno, todos los seres humanos.  Estamos en los brazos del Universo, bien protegidos, bien amados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“…convertidos en uno, un mismo ser compartiendo&lt;br /&gt;el sublime momento.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué queremos…de verdad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Quiero imaginarte cantando, leyendo, pensando, creando,&lt;br /&gt;viajando por el infinito universo.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Y qué importa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tú, yo, el universo, la hermana luna, el hermano sol&lt;br /&gt;como testigos, y la vida corriendo limpia como tu alma&lt;br /&gt;ligera como soplo divino susurrándome al oído&lt;br /&gt;--Ven conmigo, este es el camino.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Adónde queremos ir?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Llévame a aquel lejano día en que vi por primera vez la luz de&lt;br /&gt;tu amado sol, llévame a mi Madre.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Llévame a la Luz, al Cielo, al Amor eterno….al &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Origen&lt;/span&gt;.  Cuando veo la Verdad que es mi hermano, veo a mi misma y veo a todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sí, hermano, somos mucho más de lo que pensamos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somos Luz y somos Amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;9/29/08&lt;br /&gt;(Hoy solamente español)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6186791344038134500?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6186791344038134500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6186791344038134500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6186791344038134500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6186791344038134500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/09/cuando-las-palabras.html' title='Cuando las palabras...'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3704520924290455523</id><published>2008-09-24T08:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T08:48:19.096-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='squirrels'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peras'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ardillas'/><title type='text'>¡Peras, sí! / Pears, yes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SNo2WJMgYGI/AAAAAAAAAXk/efJOIsPpOHE/s1600-h/Our+pears.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SNo2WJMgYGI/AAAAAAAAAXk/efJOIsPpOHE/s320/Our+pears.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249568069707128930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontré la manera de gozar las peras de nuestros árboles de pera este año.  Realmente, fue por accidente.  Un día estaba sentada afuera leyendo cuando de repente apareció de la nada una ardilla corriendo por el laberinto cerca de los árboles de pera.  La vi empezar a subir el tronco de uno de los árboles.  Entonces, le grité.  Primero dejó de subir y se quedó inmovil en el tronco.  Le grité otra vez. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¡Ni lo pienses, ardillita, sácate de allí!—y pegué el brazo de la silla donde estaba sentada con la mano.  Se echó a correr en seguida por el bosque y desapareció.  –Eso es,--me dije y en ese momento me puse a trabajar.  Metí un casete en mi grabadora pequeña y comencé a crear la cinta de “anti-ardillas.”  Por cuarenta y cinco minutos grabé mi voz gritando: --VETE DE AQUI, ARDILLA, NO TE SUBAS A ESE ARBOL, NO QUEREMOS ARDILLAS AQUI, NO, NO, NO, NI LO PIENSES, VOY POR MI ESCOPETA, ARDILLA, VAS A VER—y cosas por el estilo.  También pegaba a la pequeña mesa de fierro que tenemos afuera (hecho en México, a propósito) con un palo.  Se pueden imaginar.  “¡PAS, PAS, PAS, VETE DE AQUI, ARDILLA, PAS, PAS, PAS!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ay, ojalá mis vecinos no me oyeran haciendo tanto escándalo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En una silla cerca de los árboles, puse mi tocacintas con una extensión y todos los días “allá estoy gritando” para que las ardillas no vayan a acercarse a las peras.  Así podrían madurarse en las ramas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pasó el tiempo.  ¿Y el resultado?  Un plato grande lleno de peras de nuestros árboles que Teo y yo estamos comiendo a diario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummmmmm…..¡qué delicia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pears, yes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found the way to enjoy the pears from our pear trees this year.  It was quite by accident too.  On day I was sitting outside reading when all of a sudden out of nowhere a squirrel appeared running through the labyrinth near the pear trees.  I saw him start to climb up the trunk of one.  I yelled.  At first he stopped dead in his tracks.  I yelled again.  “Don’t even think about it, squirrely, get out of here!”  I banged on the arm of my chair.  He took off running toward the woods.    That’s it, I said to myself and right then and there I started to work.  I dropped a cassette tape into my small tape recorder and began to create the “anti-squirrel” tape.  For the next forty-five minutes I recorded my voice shouting, “GET OUT OF HERE, SQUIRRELY, DON’T YOU GO UP THAT TREE, WE DON’T WANT SQUIRRELS HERE, NO, NO, NO, DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, I’M GONNA GET MY BB GUN, SQUIRRELY,”  and things of that nature.  I also banged on an iron table we have outside (made in Mexico, by the way), with a stick.  You can imagine.  “Bang, bang, bang!  Get out of here, squirrel!  Bang, bang, bang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I hope my neighbors didn’t hear me making such a racket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put my tape player on a chair near the pear trees with an extension cord and every day “there I am yelling so the squirrels don’t go near the pear trees.”  That way they would have time to mature on the trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time passed.  The result?  A big plate of pears that Ted and I are eating every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummmmmmm…how yummy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;9/24/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3704520924290455523?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3704520924290455523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3704520924290455523' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3704520924290455523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3704520924290455523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/09/peras-s-pears-yes.html' title='¡Peras, sí! / Pears, yes!'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SNo2WJMgYGI/AAAAAAAAAXk/efJOIsPpOHE/s72-c/Our+pears.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-5551629658171664199</id><published>2008-08-31T18:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T18:08:31.491-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adios'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='un abrazo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good-by'/><title type='text'>ADIOS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SLsWA1uoaTI/AAAAAAAAAXc/wYzAhO714tk/s1600-h/Monkey+hugs+Bunny.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SLsWA1uoaTI/AAAAAAAAAXc/wYzAhO714tk/s320/Monkey+hugs+Bunny.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240806795054180658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Un abrazo fuerte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/31/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-5551629658171664199?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/5551629658171664199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=5551629658171664199' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5551629658171664199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/5551629658171664199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/adios.html' title='ADIOS'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SLsWA1uoaTI/AAAAAAAAAXc/wYzAhO714tk/s72-c/Monkey+hugs+Bunny.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-7791698734938415298</id><published>2008-08-27T21:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T21:11:13.467-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='luz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hermano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><title type='text'>¿Quién Es Mi Hermano?/Who's My Brother?</title><content type='html'>¿Quién es mi hermano? ¿Quién es mi hermano?&lt;br /&gt;El que no me juzga, sabe escucharme&lt;br /&gt;Apoyarme mis ideas y todas mis palabras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me da su sonrisa, nunca tiene prisa&lt;br /&gt;Pasamos el momento jugando y riendo&lt;br /&gt;Sólo siendo seres los dos, amantes de la vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué hace mi hermano? ¿Qué hace mi hermano?&lt;br /&gt;Entiende y me permite sacar mis inquietudes&lt;br /&gt;No se impacienta, su voz se calienta con ternura y cordura,&lt;br /&gt;Con ternura y cordura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Quién es mi hermano?&lt;br /&gt;Él es mi reflejo, entero y completo&lt;br /&gt;Criticar a mi hermano, no puedo.&lt;br /&gt;Lo que veo es mi espejo, mi espejo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Quién es mi hermano?&lt;br /&gt;Luz del universo,&lt;br /&gt;Aire que respiro,&lt;br /&gt;Agua que yo tomo;&lt;br /&gt;Una parte de todo,&lt;br /&gt;Mi hermano, soy yo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tell Me, Who’s My Brother?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, who’s my brother?  Tell me, who’s my brother?&lt;br /&gt;The one who never judges,&lt;br /&gt;The one who always listens;&lt;br /&gt;He supports my very being&lt;br /&gt;And all my aspirations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is always smiling,&lt;br /&gt;Never in a hurry;&lt;br /&gt;All our time together&lt;br /&gt;We’re laughing and we’re playing&lt;br /&gt;We are only in the moment&lt;br /&gt;When we love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does my brother do? What does my brother do?&lt;br /&gt;He listens and with him&lt;br /&gt;I share my joy too.&lt;br /&gt;He never loses patience&lt;br /&gt;His voice is always soothing&lt;br /&gt;Tender and so healing,&lt;br /&gt;Tender and so healing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me who’s my brother?&lt;br /&gt;He is my reflection&lt;br /&gt;Absolute perfection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No way I could ever criticize my brother&lt;br /&gt;He’s the mirror of my very own soul, no other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, who’s my brother?&lt;br /&gt;Light of my whole being&lt;br /&gt;Air that I am breathing&lt;br /&gt;Water I am drinking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s a part of everything&lt;br /&gt;Who’s my brother?  He is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/27/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-7791698734938415298?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/7791698734938415298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=7791698734938415298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7791698734938415298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/7791698734938415298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/quin-es-mi-hermanowhos-my-brother.html' title='¿Quién Es Mi Hermano?/Who&apos;s My Brother?'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6463881259156783265</id><published>2008-08-22T16:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T16:04:45.266-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pulcera morada'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purple bracelet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quejarse'/><title type='text'>Había Un Señor/ There Was A Man</title><content type='html'>Había un señor que padecía de dolores de cabeza crónicos.  Todos los días cuando regresaba a su casa del trabajo, le decía a su esposa cuánto le había dolido la cabeza ese día.  Cuando se dio cuenta que hablando del dolor a su esposa no le causaba tener menos dolor, decidió no hablar de sus jaquecas como parte de su campaña de andar sin quejarse.  Al rato ya no padecía de las jaquecas.&lt;br /&gt;                    --A Complaint Free World&lt;br /&gt;                      por Will Bowen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es un desafío sencillo pero no fácil de implementar.  Pedí unas pulceras moradas para mí y para la gente cercana que tiene interés.  La idea es poner la pulcera de hule en una muñeca y cuando te quejas o criticas a alguien o algo o chismeas, tienes que cambiar la pulcera a la otra muñeca y empezar de nuevo.  El desafío es dejar pasar veintiún días sin quejarse, criticar o chismear.   (Es que para cambiar un hábito malo, una persona necesita 21 días con el hábito nuevo)  ¿Fácil?  Llevo un día y medio con la pulcera y no he llegado a la noche sin cambiar la pulcera varias veces.  Si alguien me hubiera preguntado si yo me quejo mucho, pues, hubiera dicho que no, que soy una persona muy positiva….ja ja, qué sorpresa.  Cuando me puse a escuchar las palabras que salen de mi boca…wow…tengo mucho que aprender de mí misma.  Qué interesante es la vida.  Es un viaje lleno de muchas sorpresas.  Mi desafío es llegar a los 21 días sin quejarme de nada.  Si puedo cambiar este mal hábito, voy a estar más feliz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El autor dice que cuando nos quejamos, estamos usando nuestras palabras para enfocar en las cosas que no son como queremos.  Nuestros pensamientos crean nuestras vidas y nuestras palabras indican lo que estamos pensando.  Vale la pena repetir esto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NUESTROS PENSAMIENTOS CREAN NUESTRAS VIDAS Y NUESTRAS PALABRAS INDICAN LO QUE ESTAMOS PENSANDO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(A Propósito, si quieres hacer el desafío de ir 21 días sin quejarse, puedes usar una liga en la muñeca o una moneda o piedra que cambias de bolsa a bolsa)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There Was a Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a man who suffered from chronic headaches.  Every day when he came home from work he told his wife how much his head hurt that day.  When he realized that this was not lessening his pain any, he decided to stop talking about his headaches as part of his campaign to stop complaining.  Soon he no longer suffered from headaches.&lt;br /&gt;                    --A Complaint Free World&lt;br /&gt;                    or Will Bowen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a simple challenge but not so easy to implement.  I ordered some purple bracelets for me and those near me who might be interested.  The idea is to wear the rubber bracelet on one wrist and when you complain or criticize or gossip, you have to change the bracelet to the other wrist and start over.  The challenge is to go twenty-one days without complaining, criticizing or gossiping.  (In order to change a bad habit, a person needs 21 days with the new habit).  Easy?  I have been a day and a half with the bracelet and I have not arrived at sundown without changing the bracelet several times.  If someone had asked me if I complain much, well, I would have said “No, I’m a very positive person.”  Hah!  What a surprise.  When I started listening to the words coming out of my mouth…wow…I have a lot to learn about myself.  How interesting life is.  It’s a journey full of surprises.  My challenge is to arrive at 21 days without complaining about anything.  If I can change this bad habit, I will be much happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The author says that when we complain, we are using our words to focus on things that are not the way we would like.  Our thoughts create our lives and our words indicate what we are thinking.  This is worth repeating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OUR THOUGHTS CREATE OUR LIVES AND OUR WORDS INDICATE WHAT WE ARE THINKING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(If you don’t have a purple bracelet you can use a rubber band or a coin or stone that you move from pocket to pocket)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/22/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6463881259156783265?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6463881259156783265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6463881259156783265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6463881259156783265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6463881259156783265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/haba-un-seor-there-was-man.html' title='Había Un Señor/ There Was A Man'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-2722085772868080730</id><published>2008-08-19T14:34:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T14:36:52.826-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ego'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mujer de mi vida'/><title type='text'>Amor Ego</title><content type='html'>Hice la lista de todas las mujeres que hay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eliminé en primer término a los travestis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Borré a las muy muy flacas, a las rubias y a las pelirrojas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Después, a las maniáticas de la limpieza, a las que fuman y a las que usan perfume (A mí me gusta que la mujer huela a sí misma)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suprimí a las que hablan mucho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quedaron muy pocas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taché a las que dicen “o sea” y “es como que”; a las que cuando alguien les gusta, dicen “Es un divino”;  A las que tienen tobillos muy gruesos y a las que no aceptan que uno mire el fútbol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quedaron dos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puse como condición que ninguna fuera mi mamá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quedó una.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me acerqué a ella corriendo y le dije, “¡Tú eres la mujer de mi vida!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella me había eliminado hacía rato ya de su lista, cuando tachó a aquellos estúpidos que creen que existe la mujer ideal y que ésta, encima, los está esperando con los brazos abiertos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(English tomorrow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/19/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-2722085772868080730?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/2722085772868080730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=2722085772868080730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2722085772868080730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/2722085772868080730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/amor-ego.html' title='Amor Ego'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6874516007065095485</id><published>2008-08-14T22:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T22:39:05.099-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ego'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CD'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music música'/><title type='text'>Otra Vez el Ego/ The Ego Strikes Again</title><content type='html'>…entonces, el otro día estaba leyendo, más bien estaba mirando un catálogo donde quiero vender mi CD, mi primer CD pero la gente del catálogo no me dan la hora del día, me dicen que sí pero después nada, o se les olvida o no saben como decirme que no, quién sabe la verdad, tal vez nunca voy a saber, okay, está bien, ni modo, así que me puse a pensar ¿por qué quiero vender mi CD?  ¿Qué pasa si vendo la música que he compuesto?  Bueno, lo que me vino a la mente fue así: “Si vendo mi música, si hay gente en este mundo que quiere escuchar mi música, entonces yo tengo valor”….¿QUÉ?  ¿QUÉ ES LO QUE DIJE?  (Sí, Ego, te estoy escuchando, qué malo eres hacerme creer una cosa así.  Okay, Ego, si no vendo mi música, entonces eso quiere decir que no valgo nada??????  ¿¿Eh, ego??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi ego se calló por el momento, pero es interesante la idea.  La pregunta es:  ¿Por qué hacemos lo que hacemos?  ¿Queremos probar algo? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Por qué el cantante canta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Por qué el músico toca?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Por qué la bailarina baila?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Por qué el nadador nada?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Por qué el pintor pinta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y si no hacemos nada o si lo hacemos pero nadie nos hace caso, entonces, ¿todavía tenemos valor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sé que compongo música porque no puedo no hacerlo.  Es como si viniera desde muy lejos y quiere salir de mí.  Si a nadie le interesa lo que compongo, pues, así es y realmente no debe tener importancia, pero si a alguien le interesara….que lindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué dicen los músicos, los pintores, los poetas y toda la gente que se encuentre haciendo algo para compartir en este mundo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me gustaría saber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A propósito, quiero dar las gracias por los comentarios en mi blog, sobre todo por el comentario en la entrada llamada “Un Cuento.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Ego Strikes Again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…So, the other day I was reading, or rather I was looking at a catalogue where I want to sell my CD, my first CD, but the people there won’t give me the time of day, they tell me yes but then nothing, either they forget or they don’t know how to tell me no, who knows the truth, I’ll probably never know, okay, it’s all right, too bad, so I started thinking “Why do I want to sell my CD?”  What happens if I sell the music I have composed?  Well, what came to mind was this:  “If I sell my music, if there are people in this world who want to listen to my music, then I have value”….WHAT?  WHAT DID I JUST SAY?  (Yes, Ego, I’m listening to you, how awful you are to make me believe a thing like that.  Okay, Ego, if I don’t sell my music, then does that mean I’m not worth anything????  Huh, ego???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ego shut up for a bit, but the idea is interesting.  The question is:  Why do we do what we do?  Do we want to prove something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the singer sing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the musician play?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the dancer dance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the swimmer swim?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does the painter paint?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if we don’t do anything or if we do it but no one pays us attention, then, do we still have value?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I compose music because I can’t not do it.  It’s as if it came from far away and wants to come out of me.  If no one is interested in what I compose, well, that’s the way it is, and it really shouldn’t have any importance, but if someone is interested…how nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do musicians, painters, poets and everyone who finds himself/herself doing something to share in this world have to say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I want to thank those who have left comments in my blog, especially the comment from my post called “A Story.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/14/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6874516007065095485?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6874516007065095485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6874516007065095485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6874516007065095485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6874516007065095485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/otra-vez-el-ego-ego-strikes-again.html' title='Otra Vez el Ego/ The Ego Strikes Again'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-878895526157588146</id><published>2008-08-11T11:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T11:09:32.768-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eternidad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='present moment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eternity'/><title type='text'>Soy Quien Soy/ I Am Who I Am</title><content type='html'>Soy quien soy y estoy donde estoy y todo es como debe de ser.  Podría decir que todo es perfecto, pero eso implica que hay posibilidad de imperfección y entonces sería una comparación y realmente mi propósito no es andar comparando nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy quien soy….¿y qué?  Ya sabemos que nada es como parece.  Parece que “soy quien soy” y “estoy donde estoy” pero LA VERDAD seguramente es otra cosa totalmente distinta.  Por ejemplo, parece que todo está en un estado de movimiento; parece que amanezco y el día empieza.  ¿El día empieza?  ¿Cuándo empieza el día?  ¿Será el momento en que abro los ojos y me levanto de la cama?  No creo…el día ya está, pero yo empiezo un día nuevo.  Digo mi percepción es que hoy es un día nuevo, pero ¿cuándo se puso “viejo” el día para después convertirse en “un día nuevo?”  Ay, qué complicado es pensar así.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy quien soy…veo lo que veo.  ¿Qué es lo que veo…de verdad?  Veo los árboles afuera de mi casa cuando salgo a hacer ejercicio.  Miro arriba y veo el cielo que hoy está completamente gris.  Veo el pasto recien cortado, veo el pavimiento de la entrada de mi casa, veo mi gato sentado en la ventana mirándome, veo los pájaros volando de rama a rama….pero la pregunta es: ¿QUÉ ESTOY VIENDO?&lt;br /&gt;¿El Universo?  ¿Muchos átomos girando y dando vueltas constantamente para crear la ilusión de ser un árbol, el pasto, una ventana, etc?  ¿O quizá veo solamente lo que mi pasado me dice, las experiencias que he tenido dictando como debo ver todo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Soy quien soy?  ¿Quién soy yo?  ¿Una mezcla de carne, huesos y sangre?  ¿Una madre, hija y abuela?  ¿Un ser de luz residiendo en un cuerpo?  ¿Parte de ti y parte de todo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bueno, como digo, siempre hay una pregunta o más….la respuesta, pues, es otra cosa.  Si pudiera dejar mi pasado atrás y ver todo como si por primera vez, entraría en EL MOMENTO PRESENTE exactamente como es y estaría en LA ETERNIDAD. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La eternidad….vaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Am Who I Am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am who I am and I am where I am and everything is as it should be.  I could say that everything is perfect, but that implies that there is a possibility of imperfection and therefore it would be a comparison and really my goal is not to go around comparing anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am who I am…so what?  We already know that nothing is as it seems.  It seems like “I am who I am” and “I am where I am” but THE TRUTH certainly is something else totally different.  For example, it seems that everything is in a state of movement; it seems that I wake up and the day begins.  The day begins?  When did the day begin?  Is it the moment I open my eyes and I get out of bed?  I don’t think so…the day is already there, but I begin a new day.  I mean my perception is that today is a new day, but when did the day become “old” so that later on it could convert itself into “a new day?”  Oh, how complicated it is to think like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am who I am…I see what I see.  What do I see…really?  I see the trees outside my house when I go out to exercise.  I look up and see the sky that today is totally grey.  I see the grass freshly mowed, I see the pavement of the driveway, I see my cat sitting at the window staring at me, I see the birds flying from branch to branch…but the question is: WHAT AM I SEEING?  The Universe?  Lots of atoms spinning and whirling around constantly in order to create the illusion of being a tree, the grass, a window, etc?  Or maybe I only see what my past tells me, the experiences that have dictated how I should see everything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am who I am?  Who am I?  A mass of flesh, bones and blood?  A mother, daughter and a grandmother?  A being of light residing in a body?  Part of you and part of everything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, like I say, there is always a question or more than one…the answer, well, is something else.  If I could leave my past behind and see everything as if for the first time, I would enter into the PRESENT MOMENT exactly as it is and I would be in ETERNITY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eternity…wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.  (¿…?)&lt;br /&gt;8/11/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-878895526157588146?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/878895526157588146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=878895526157588146' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/878895526157588146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/878895526157588146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/soy-quien-soy-i-am-who-i-am.html' title='Soy Quien Soy/ I Am Who I Am'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-3083761987307371215</id><published>2008-08-03T16:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:30:26.500-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nubes clouds amor love'/><title type='text'>Las Nubes/ The Clouds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SJYYMqo_J_I/AAAAAAAAAXA/3Yc4RB5tPQQ/s1600-h/clouds,+one.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SJYYMqo_J_I/AAAAAAAAAXA/3Yc4RB5tPQQ/s200/clouds,+one.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230394623121106930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nunca me decepcionan las nubes.  Siempre están allá, siempre bellas, siempre interesantes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tranquilas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suaves,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cambiando de forma,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabias,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enseñándome la quietud que existe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera envolverme dentro de las nubes  para sentirme protegida, abrazada, querida, amada y segura dónde nada puede causarme daño, ni palabra, ni acción, ni mal pensamiento, ni nada por el estilo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dónde la culpa no me puede tocar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para que sea inocente…pura, y que sepa sólo dar amor,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sí,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sólo dar amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clouds never disappoint me.  They are always there, always beautiful, always interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peaceful,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soft,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Changing shape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wise,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teaching me the stillness that exists&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to wrap myself in the clouds in order to feel protected, hugged, loved, adored and safe where nothing can cause me harm, not a word or an action, nor a bad thought, nothing like that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where guilt cannot touch me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that I may be innocent, pure, and that I may know only how to give love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only give love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/3/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-3083761987307371215?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/3083761987307371215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=3083761987307371215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3083761987307371215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/3083761987307371215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/las-nubes-clouds.html' title='Las Nubes/ The Clouds'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SJYYMqo_J_I/AAAAAAAAAXA/3Yc4RB5tPQQ/s72-c/clouds,+one.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-1122483550823092509</id><published>2008-08-02T18:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T19:05:11.207-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='español'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inglés'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bilingual'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bilingüe'/><title type='text'>Este Blog/ This Blog</title><content type='html'>Este Blog es bilingüe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si empieza con español, el inglés está a continuación. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si empieza con inglés, el español está a continuación.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay que desplazarse hacia abajo para encontrar el idoma de tu preferencia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Blog is bilingual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it begins with Spanish, English will follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it begins with English, Spanish will follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just have to scroll down to find the language of your choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/2/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-1122483550823092509?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/1122483550823092509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=1122483550823092509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1122483550823092509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/1122483550823092509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/este-blog-this-blog.html' title='Este Blog/ This Blog'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-6853691743831994919</id><published>2008-08-01T12:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T12:22:16.875-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eckart Tolle'/><title type='text'>This Life/ Esta Vida</title><content type='html'>Yes, this life….I think I have something to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Are we becoming cynical?”  he asked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No,” I said, “we’re just being realistic.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that’s how cynicism starts, you think you’re being realistic, he told me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is is boredom? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it depression?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This feeling of Is this all there is? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we tired?  Tired of this life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we’re just not living in the moment.  Maybe we’re longing for something that doesn’t exist…something lasting.  Nothing here lasts.  That’s the problem.  We are never satisfied and we spend our time with distractions, the movies, the Internet, chess, eating out, something, anything to take away this feeling, this strange feeling I can’t really name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps we’re living too long.  There’s irony here too.  It’s very ironic because lately everything is working out for me, everything is happening so beautifully.  I’m meeting my goals, the universe is being so good to me, my wishes are being granted.  The genie is out of the bottle and standing right next to me saying “YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why am I struggling to feel comfortable in this life?  Why am I not totally happy all the time?  I read Eckhart Tolle and he says if you’re not happy it’s because you’re not “in the moment.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, maybe that’s it, I’m just not “in the moment.”  I think I know that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, where am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The universe gave me a surprise today, a bonus, little piece of sweetness that I’m trying to hold onto.  In my front yard there appeared a doe with her two baby fawns, their darling bodies still covered in white spots.  They bounced over the labryinth and darted into the woods.  Such innocence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when I was innocent too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sí, esta vida…creo que tengo algo que decir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--¿Es qué nos estamos poniendo cínicos?--  Me preguntó.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--No,--le dije,  --simplemente somos realistas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero así empieza el cinismo, crees que eres realista me dijo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Será aburrimiento?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Será depresión?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este sentimiento de ¿Es esto todo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Estamos cansados?  ¿Cansados de esta vida?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tal vez sólo no estemos viviendo en el momento.  Tal vez anhelemos algo que no existe…algo que dure.  Nada dura aquí.   Es el problema.  Nunca estamos satisfechos y pasamos el tiempo con diversiones, distrayéndonos con el cine, Internet, ajedrez, saliendo a comer, algo, cualquier cosa para quitar este sentimiento, este sentimiento extraño que no puedo nombrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quizá estamos viviendo demasiado tiempo.  Es ironico porque últimamente todo funciona para mí, todo pasa tan bien, tan perfecto.  He llegado a mis metas, el universo me trata muy bien, concede mis deseos.  El genio salió de la botella y está parado a mi lado diciendo “TU DESEO ES MI ORDEN.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Por qué lucho para sentirme cómoda en esta vida?  ¿Por qué no estoy feliz todo el tiempo?  Leo a Eckhart Tolle y dice que si no estás contento es porque no estás “en el momento.”&lt;br /&gt;Sí, quizás eso es, no estoy “en el momento.”  Ya lo sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entonces, ¿dónde estoy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El universo me dio una sorpresa hoy, un beneficio, un pedacito de dulzura que quiero detener.  En mi jardín apareció una gama con sus dos cervatillos, sus adorables cuerpos todavía cubiertos con manchas blancas.  Saltaron en el pasto cerca del laberinto y se desaparecieron en el bosque.  Qué inocentes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era yo inocente una vez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, bueno…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;8/1/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-6853691743831994919?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/6853691743831994919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=6853691743831994919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6853691743831994919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/6853691743831994919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-life-esta-vida.html' title='This Life/ Esta Vida'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9006205546605846147.post-682615700185948605</id><published>2008-07-29T10:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T10:17:34.525-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='laberinto'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cambios'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='labyrinth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><title type='text'>Cambios/ Changes</title><content type='html'>Me encuentro de nuevo en la tierra de lo familiar, en casa, en mi hogar, en el lugar donde paso la mayor parte de mi vida, donde conozco cada pulgada de este espacio pero no necesariamente la gente en mi alrededor.  De hecho conozco poca gente acá….hmm, la tierra de lo frío aunque haga calor ahorita.  Regresé a mi laberinto desaparecido y por poco me muero hasta que lo buscamos debajo de las hierbas, yo cortando las pequeñas hojas de verde claro que se atrevieron a crecer encima de las líneas blancas…how dare they! Hasta que poco a poco lo descubrimos otra vez y fuimos pintando las líneas en pedacitos y pronto nos dimos cuenta dónde estaba y cómo iba y por fin se levantó de la nada y voilá, llegó mi laberinto pero la tierra estaba muy cambiada, ya no se notaba el sendero bien marcado como antes, sólo el centro dónde mis pies dibujaban su forma en el pasto, dónde pisaban fuertes al llegar allá.  Dos meses, dos pequeños meses sin atención…qué despiadada es la naturaleza y qué rápido cambia todo.  Tal vez yo cambio también, por el hecho de pasar dos meses en otro país, otro ambiente tan distinto a este.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay vecinos nuevos aquí, dos halcones que vuelan encima de nosotros como si no estuviéramos acá mirándolos y se hablan de árbol a árbol y nos paramos un buen rato a verlos como si fueran una maravilla, y sí son una maravilla porque no les importa nuestra presencia y me pregunto si mi presencia les importa a la otra gente que vive cerca de aquí o si soy invisible…a veces siento invisible porque pasa el día y no hablo con nadie…allá no soy invisible, qué curioso.  Aquí no tengo hermano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha llovido y hay arroyo…me gusta como se oye corriendo tan aprisa.  No me atrevo ir allá a verlo de cerca por los moscos y otros insectos que pican, pero pronto, pronto iré, no puedo evitarlo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entonces la rutina me llama de nuevo, la rutina de antes y me pregunto si todavía la aguanto, si todavía la puedo aguantar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creo que es hora de un cambio, un cambio tremendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ver qué pasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Changes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself again in the land of the familiar, at home, in my house, in the place where I spend the major part of my life, where I know every inch of this space but not necessarily the people around me.  In fact, I know few people here…hmm, the land of the cold even though it’s warm at this moment.  I came back to find my labyrinth disappeared and I almost died until we looked for it underneath the weeds, me cutting away the small light green leaves that dared to grow over the white lines…how dare they!  Until little by little we discovered it again and began painting the lines in small bits and soon we realized where it was and how it went and finally it was raised up out of the nothing and voila, my labyrinth arrived but the earth was very changed, you could no longer see the well worn path as before, only the center where my feet drew their form in the grass, where they pressed the ground hard upon arriving there.  Two months, two tiny months without attention…how merciless is nature and how fast everything changes.  Maybe I change too, by having spent two months in another country, another place so different from this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are new neighbors here, two hawks that fly over us as if we were not here watching them and they talk to each other from tree to tree and we stand there a good while to see them as if they were a marvel and yes, they are a marvel because they don’t mind our presence and I wonder if my presence matters to other people who live near here or if I’m invisible…sometimes I feel invisible because the day goes by and I don’t speak to anyone…there I am not invisible, how interesting.  Here I have no brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has rained and there is the stream…I like the way it sounds rushing in such a hurry.  I haven’t dared go over there to see it up close because of the mosquitoes and other bugs that bite but soon, soon I will go, I can’t avoid it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the routine is calling me again, the routine of before and I wonder if I’ll take it, if I can still put up with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it’s time for a change, a big change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy Lorena.&lt;br /&gt;6/29/08&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9006205546605846147-682615700185948605?l=lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/feeds/682615700185948605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9006205546605846147&amp;postID=682615700185948605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/682615700185948605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9006205546605846147/posts/default/682615700185948605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lorenasblogbilingue.blogspot.com/2008/07/cambios-changes.html' title='Cambios/ Changes'/><author><name>Lorena's Blogbilingüe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06749142381387301033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lde0ho_qkSc/SKBjfVI9gHI/AAAAAAAAAXU/tt5ZwIeAWP8/s1600-R/Lorena%2By%2Bpiano.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
