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The power of words

love my body. I deserve and I am able to care and respect

few years ago, a Japanese physicist decided to investigate the power of words, and it began collecting water from all over the world in small bottles. Once done, put on each of the samples labeled with a single meaningful word. It also placed next to another boat just like their antonyms. For example, love and hate, happiness, sadness.

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all languages \u200b\u200bthat exist on Earth, not to exclude any language.

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After each of the boats, and after a few hours, was photographed one by one all the samples. When it came time to reveal, yet there were no digital cameras, was surprised to realize that you do those boats whose word was negative, the picture reflected a nasty black water, while representing positive concepts, had become reflection of a beauty almost unequaled. It said that many of them have become some of the most beautiful pictures of all time.

We are a 80% water, so you can imagine how important it is biendecir , or whatever it is, properly speaking. But I do not mean to be educated language or expression, but rather focus on pronouncing only those concepts that will rattle the entire body in a happy and fulfilled.

Following the instructions of the Japanese physicist, Masaru Emoto is called, "I have set a goal that I repeat every day about 500 times. In high, low, and even in different languages: love my body. I deserve and I am able to care and respect .

I think there is no need to mention the amazing results I am starting to feel about my body. From here, I encourage all of you to set yourself a goal, promoting your infinite capacities, and loving above all things.

love my body. I deserve and I am able to care and respect .

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we play?

This weekend I went Duruelo once again, to make the first of five parts of a course in Transactional Analysis. In fact I would reluctantly, bored waiting in the theoretical parts, but with the hope of finding my friends and colleagues for personal growth.

I'm not going to tell the whole course (mainly because it is much better live), but I can say I feel incredibly fortunate to be at this point the road, to have people I have around me offering me full support for having the best downstairs neighbor that the universe has given me, for teaching me to love my body because I am able to care and respect, and all the hard work and constant that I am conducting from 6 years ago.

I'm reunited with my girl, with that being unique and wonderful that I really am, and I leave it out more often, every minute, every breath, every step. I want to play again!

love life. I just love.

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The meeting

nine o'clock at night. It is too early to be with my quote of the day. Activity in the first local meeting. I ask for a glass of chardonnay and let me absorb this enchanting place. Without knowing how or why, I find myself talking to the owner. I realize that it takes little time in business, which is a bad time, you just go live with your partner, and points to the bottom of the bar, where a bearded man bigger than a bear is grinning ear to ear and winks at me.

I feel the protagonist of a book by Corin Tellado, and I am alone in the bar, spinning so distracted with my cup, slightly abstracted in the smoke of snuff, which is bound up in the air with two or three men's perfumes.

I do not know what time it is now, but I'm sure I'm late. Lately I'm getting a taste of this to go with the rope around his neck. I guess I've always been characterized as being more timely than I would like, let me now carried away by my new sense pseudohippie and disheveled me taking off all the clocks, leaving me by each of the moments I live, as if the last moment of my life ...

feel something vibrating in my bag, and I know that is the gentleman with whom he stayed for dinner. Since I had almost forgotten. I answer reluctantly, and I am amazed to find that takes half an hour waiting in the bar opposite. Pay the waiter and I run away, leaving my heels step a jog on the asphalt. There, you see. I do and I have the pretty eyes to one side, in a barely perceptible movement. I know it has been passed around the anger ...

We sat at a table. This is a pretty good inn Galician reputation. I have no hunger, but he is so excited that I smile in spite of everything. Talk to the owner and the two very menu manages ad hoc my nutritional needs. He tells me about his children, his years living in Denmark and in southern Spain. He tells me he studied fine arts but never came to dedicate the scene. He has over 60 years, and I feel half absorbed by your wisdom, experience and its form of expression.

I feel very frivolous, and I apologize, explaining that I need to go the bathroom. I look in the mirror for more than two minutes, watching carefully every feature of the face, and for the first time in my life I feel old. I am an adult. I do not know at what moment I glimpsed a bit of pain in my gestures, but I forgot the discovery at the time I took the second cup of ribeiro .

When the desserts, one of the waiter brings me a French rose, called Hope centuries ago by a gardener of Louis XIV. Inside the envelope is a note, but I prefer to leave to the reader's imagination content. I feel my face redden, thank you, and I yawn a hint of that dream is to express more than anything else.

I proposed going to take a gintonics , but I prefer to make a little distance. I had not enjoyed much of a conversation, a company, a dinner, a rose ... But consider it appropriate to show that gentleman that I consider him more of a charming grandfather that a potential suitor.

me to the car, not left to pay anything. Give me a hug and asked me to call you. I think he knows that I will not, at least in a long time. I sit in the driver's seat, turning mirror slightly to expand my field of vision. I feel strange, so I took two seconds to collect my thoughts. I paint my lips a deep red again and I glimpse the corner of my eye to my companion walked up the street, probably in the direction of home. I feel and quiet ...

Two days

I never thought after the dinner that day. I did not think about it.

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The White Night Special

I looked in the mirror one last time before leaving home in a hurry with which I would have liked. And late. He had been with my friends in a new neighborhood crêperie Bilbao in Madrid.

I got in the car, I changed the tuning of the radio, down the windows and started the engine, convinced that the world would to stop because I arrived half an hour later than expected. I drove quietly along the boulevards, enjoying every cell of my being in the landscape Madrid and its people, who were already prepared to walk the streets of La Noche en Blanco.

I do not know how long I tossed the whole the city looking for somewhere to park my car, but in the end, after several failed attempts getting on sidewalks, moving containers, and avoid signs for the disabled, I decided to scratch a little portfolio and enter into a public park.

As I got to Ne me quitte pas , a source of fun laughing at people down the stairs, bringing with her wonderful glasses of red Rioja, or choosing something from the letter, and prepared to see the Muna spectacle-the owner of the premises, had prepared for the occasion.

not remember the name of the artist, or writer, but I recognized that the dialogues presented last night were really good, bawdy, original, very well written and highly entertaining. The ideal home for a night in which leisure, culture and entertainment merge to give rise to thousands of people united by a common interest.

Around midnight verdejo changed my shot of a couple of bottles of water, ready to take the night walk that led me to discover the mysteries of the evening.

I went to Columbus , where he hoped to see a physical representation of the best known poems of Lorca. I liked a lot, but feel so surrounded sorry, too many people for so little action.

do not know what La Noche en Blanco will, but manages to convey a very special energy. I like walking down the street, covered with a small scarf, leaving my pituitary enjoy the smells of the city, noticing the well-lit shop windows, thinking about those boots would have liked both my grandmother Special ...

My night ended with a session of Trivial at my friend Bea, and although I was eager to continue to enjoy a cultural day, I think The White Night is a social event, a special occasion air our bodies in half de la Castellana no traffic, just a moment to visit the Prado free. Because let's face it: the who likes art, pay the 5 € entry and see Las Meninas quietly, without floods of people around. But not every day you can see giant swings in the Gran Via, or a massive Twister in Columbus, or a pool of balls at the Plaza del Dos de Mayo.

another year, it was worth . Repeat next year. Promised.

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My grandmother

Special Grandma died yesterday, Wednesday 8 September 2010, after suffering the horrible consequences of cancer.

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My grandmother was a great woman, attentive, cheerful and happy, always with a smile on your face and still look innocent at 84. I used to very long walks every morning El Retiro, and stopped to talk to a neighbor, or the beggar on the corner, or stroking a dog snout and more, or simply enjoyed the mere fact of feeling the cold wind Madrid Christmas in his pronounced cheekbones.

Special Grandma was the most flirtatious than I've ever met in my life. Never left the house with unpainted lips, high heels and unmistakable smell of grandma Special. He loved to attend daily Mass and was a devoted wife for all the years he was married to my grandfather, Álvaro. She loved traveling, meeting new cultures, new people, but always was a true love of England.

He loved to daydream, and just last month I suggested we go together in September vacation to Mexico. Always admire his quiet nature, his desire for improvement, serenity, and undeniable elegance. I can say without a shred of doubt that was the most elegant lady with whom I've crossed and I am proud to be my grandmother.

had

something very special that made him shine by itself. When I walked into a room, there was no one there, just her. I feel a deep admiration for her, and if someday I get married, I love my relationship seemed at least a tenth of which were my grandparents.

I know that now is in a better, new, happy. And I know that she knows now what to expect, and there is no room for fear. I get the incredible memory of their stories, their recipes, their love of music and art, their evenings on the porch of his home Torrelodones, and meals in Madrid and walks along the wall of the Parador de Baiona ... I stay with the times I gave Redoxon glasses of water, and when I had her at gatherings with friends when I was still a child, and when I called for my birthday, or when we shared the day of our holy .. . I stay with his spirit, his sense of humor, his dedication, his joviality, his love, and above all by example.

Grandma, you're always in my life somehow. And in all of us.

For those who want to say goodbye to her, the funeral and burial be today, March 9, at 18.30h. in the Parish of San Ignacio de Loyola de Torrelodones (Galapagar Road S / N).

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