A Letter to America From America


Dear Sweethearts!

My middle name is America. Yes, just like the country! Growing up kids were mean and mocked me when they found out I was named like this nation. I hid it. I hid it because it symbolized something I didn’t understand. I was a Hispanic young girl in a very Anglo area. What that name felt was a stab of sarcasm and irony. I was born in Puerto Rico, a commonwealth territory of the United States, but not many kids knew this. So, even though I was American, I was also not in their eyes.

I have learned to embrace this middle name. In spite of the inhumane, bigotry, prejudices, judgments, and fears, I hold my head up high for sharing a name given to this gorgeous and magical land of ours. I will not hide it any further…because RIGHT NOW, I will continue to voice out my feelings on what it means to be an American. I will share what it means to be a Latin woman in a country with other magnificent minorities. I will not stand by and hide in fear of discrimination, hatred and victimization. On the contrary, I send more love now than ever before. Even when I don’t agree with all the political nonsense and skepticism, I am an American.

I am proud of the men and women who fight for this country. I am in awed of communities and unity and the love that goes behind all the media frenzy that only focuses on the bullshit and darkness. Cause, darlings, America is a land of opportunities and freedom. Step away from your televisions, media chaos, and other negative sources. Go outside and see the real beauty of this country. It’s not just in nature, but in its people. It’s in the veteran, the elderly, the children, the millions of souls who truly want to be here in this country.

No nation is perfect. Just like its people, it has flaws and requires work. A country is as powerful as its folks, not its leaders. We get to decide who and what happens, even when the media tells you otherwise.

I have recently witnessed the most incredible reminder of unity through the fighting of these wild fires in Western North Carolina. I have seen first hand what love entails when you don’t care about race, color, gender or any of the ridiculous labels the mainstream media focuses on. I have seen hands of all sizes, colors and shapes battling the fires and eat together at the fire station. I have witnessed several accents from all parts of the country laughing and sharing during gatherings there. I take notice, because I am proud of be part of this area.

America! It is made of the most complex and simple multitudes of souls. The world looks over at us and craves for what we have. It’s time to fight the hate with more compassion. I might be naive but I do know love. I know the power it holds when we stop fearing the things we don’t understand. Hatred comes from fear of the unknown and lack of education. In my lifetime I have felt the bigotry on many occasions. Although I might not look Hispanic, I open my mouth and the Spanish does come out. I have children of all shades and nationalities. They are a quilt in my heart composed of solidarity and dreams of what this nation offers. America is their home and I hope they never ever take it for granted. I sure don’t!

I am America. You are America. And, I will stand with my brothers and sisters to show the world that a few assholes will not tarnish that name. After all, darlings, we are here to create, follow, and unite what our forefathers dreamed of hundreds of years ago when they entrusted a nation to be moved by its people. Go into this holiday season, not in separation of who is President, who is part of the KKK, who is giving the Blacks, Latinos, Homosexuals, Women, and everyone else the lack consideration. Go into this time with acceptance, awareness, and unity for all the religions, cultures and amazing spirits that make this melting pot we call “home.” We are one race…the human race…on a constant marathon for a power that truly doesn’t exist. It’s all part of the facade. It’s time to stop this insanity of pointing fingers and demoralizing each other. Hate is not fought with more hate. It is fought with light, love, and pure kindness. You all matter to America and to me.

I love you….Millie America

Mystical Dreams


I watch from the trees

swinging on a hammock

the earth swaying with the wind.

Lost in my journal,

a jungle of words

sit waiting for the gathering

of fire and hearth.

The creek never stops the flow


cascading privately


a memorized path

while I keep holding on

to the bark rooted inside

of me.

Wind chimes dance to

an alto gypsy symphony

resembling Irish moors

long ago in a remote

country side.

The flapping of wings

flutter all around me,

embracing the openness

as I emerge from here to there

through waking dreams

in the gorge of a private forest.

Severity over Serenity

I woke up today to silence. I had only slept two hours the night before last. At around 9:30AM gunshots began on the mountain in front of our property. They lasted until about 8PM. I spent most of my day on edge, ducking past windows, and my nerves horribly tested with each sound of the pistol or whatever the many apparatuses were used. By evening, when friends stopped by, I was ready to have a nervous breakdown. My right eye was twitching, hands shaking and my heart was having all sorts of palpitations. I don’t like guns. As a matter of fact, I am being kind with that statement. I hate weapons.

Violence goes through me in a way that reminds me of oppression, control, blood, anger, hatred, and any sort of emotion attached to death. I don’t like being in a house with guns, or having a conversation about them. I respect everyone’s choices. I understand there are collectors, admirers, hunters, law enforcers, etc. I am also aware that guns don’t shoot themselves. People are responsible. The power in a gun enlarges the egos of those holding it. I don’t know what it is about having the knowledge that you can kill someone to bring out control and emotional distortion of dominion.

So, imagine spending a day when all you hear is gunshots as if you were in a third world country or a war zone. Imagine the energy in my peaceful retreat center when guests wonder what is happening in the mountain. The ordinance in this part of the “country” allows for shooting until 11PM. With each shot in the air, I tried to compose myself until I couldn’t any longer. I became a raging lunatic towards the end. I was cursing, yelling, and practically on the verge of tears. An entire day of those bang-bang-bang-bang broke me down. It came and went in intervals of 10 – 15 minutes of quietness. I was not my happy self. I was someone trying to control the fear of violence in my past: a rape and years of physical/emotional abuse.

I thought about the wars in the Gulf, Middle East, Germany, and all over the world. I thought about the fear and sadness that must be carried over the people and their land. My heart sinks in sadness to think of all our military men and women whose lives have been casualties of war. I couldn’t help but think this morning about how one can survive that type of violence. I am so proud of each one of those who stand for this country with bravery and admiration. I don’t know how they do it. In the end, I don’t know if it has repaired anything in any country. Severity over serenity seem to not cure anything in these times.

I can’t blame the Good Ole Boys for wanting to drink up and have target practice. It’s a free space up there in “them mountains.” I can’t blame the hunters for gaming season and wanting some fresh meat. I am not responsible for world peace. I am only responsible for my surroundings. Unfortunately, when their shooting affects my business then I have a problem. I have an issue with the disruption of serenity on my side of the mountain. I also have to say that I am appalled that no one else in the area seemed to mind those gunshots at all. Are we so used to carrying anxiety, anguish, stress, and anger that we don’t hear bullets flying out of a gun for an entire day? I am to assume that these are also the types of people who have the news channel all day long on the highest possible volume.

We live in delicate times. People are walking around overly stressed, mentally exhausted, and emotionally depleted. Time seems to be accelerating and everything is in sensory overload. We can blame it on the economy, political times, religious absurdities, sexual indiscretions, mental disorders, or whatever else can be conjured up as an excuse so we don’t have to take responsibility for our own thoughts and behavior. We are all responsible for our own lives. Violence in any way (whether mental or physical) doesn’t solve the problems of the world. They add to the creation of fascism, dictatorship and world oppression.

May you find a place in your life to meet peace and pass it on to others around you. I continue to send thoughts and prayers for world peace in my meditations. Tranquility, serenity, a peaceful mind starts with YOU.

**note: As I was finishing this blog I received a call from a grandfather to rent out the cottage for 7 days. He just lost his grandson in the Marines. Listening to his heartfelt words about renting the place for his daughter to have some peace for a few days sent me to a place of grief and compassion. My heart goes out to the Moore and Carl families. Our deepest thoughts and prayers for the loss of your 22-year old Hero. May you find the strength in God to carry you all through these difficult times.