How many deaths have you experienced in your life?
A story about a poem, an ancient movie and the essay I had to write in order to "get out there" and leave my heartbreak behind(ish).
Hello đ Iâm Candela Niesl and this is #2 of â100 Words Voyageâ; a newsletter about writing, life, challenges and how to plan your next piece of art.Â
Every weekend, I aim to share with you a piece of myself and invite you to write your 100 words. Are you ready to go on this journey? Letâs do it!
My top 3 (not so) unexpected episodes of the week:
I met amazing On Deck Fellows thanks to the 1:1 meeting weâve scheduled this week (something Iâve never done before so openly). We talked about random stuff and it was great, so I invite you to apply your own 1:1 in life.
I found out that I could change my swimming pool scenario and swim in the sea instead. I tried so yesterday and although it went great, I almost lost my bikini top. Note to myself: the sea can be tricky.
I received my YLAI Fellowship swag bag with many gifts from Charlotte, NC, my Cohort City. Been using most of them the whole week.
Wanna talk about your unexpected experiences? Do not hesitate and answer this post!
Cheers from Mar del Plata, one of the coastal cities tourists are waiting to visit when Carnaval arrives!
A few days ago, I had the opportunity yo talk to Caroline, an On Deck Fellow who I randomly talked to on our first âIcebreakerâ and since then weâve been writing to each other and scheduling some time to virtually meet.
I lack of (positive) adjectives to describe how *insert adjective* this experience was. We talked about poetry and science; music and how the brain works; nature and the human race. Even shared our favourite English words âfreedom (mine) & polarity (hers)â, and our goals in life and our perspectives from the countries we live in.
All that conversation got tattooed on my brain. Piece by piece, experience by experience. And so, being submerged in that path to the âopen of the soul and beyondâ I got to share one experience which Iâve buried into silence time ago.
No more.
It happened in 2012. My last year of High School. I was 17 and just have experienced my first heartbreak. (The bastard made out with my best friend and left me a week after through a text message. Teenage drama, who needs that s*it? âApparently many of us since movies and best-sellers are, most of the time, based on itâ).
Though, heâs not the centre of the story, nor shall ever be since he was one of few people that drove me to stop writing.
The main character of this story is a poem, and a movie, and an essay.
In order to get our High School diploma, all the students had to write an essay choosing one piece of national literature and relate it with something (no matter what) to show how literature could be present everywhere.
*Remember I was heartbroken*
So I chose a poem written by Jorge Luis Borges that talked about death and learning to let go. Something about skin turning into marble. And related that poem with a Julia Roberts movie: âMy best friendâs weddingâ.
My theory was simple: death is everywhere but in many different ways. We are afraid to die (most of the times) because we know that when our body stops functioning thatâs definitive.
But what we donât realize or rationalize is that many things die (or mutate if you want to leave the âdâ word aside, and put it ânicerâ). Relationships, theories, feelings, stages of life, customs⊠and the list can go on âalmostâ forever. Weâve experienced turning into ashes so many times that weâve forgotten we are phoenixes. Got used to heartbreaks or new jobs or new places to live when we realized we canât keep on living with our parents, for example.
Thatâs what Borgesâ poem was âisâ for me.
So, what did âMy best friendâs weddingâ have to do with all this blue drama?
I felt related to Julia Roberts character. I knew I was trying to conquer this guyâs heart again, I also knew I was going to have to change if I wanted to do so. I didnât want to change, I didnât want to lose (or mutate) my 17 years old self for some guy. I wanted to keep on being jello, not turn into crĂšme brĂ»lĂ©e. (Youâll have to watch the movie to get that part, but hereâs a sneak pic).
One could say âI say a little prayer for youâ is the soul of the movie. And although drama, sadness and an âunhappyâ ending have nothing to do with this song or any other typical Hollywood romantic comedy movie; Aretha Franklinâs song makes us believers of happiness being able to interrupt all the hopelessness and the failures. At least, it made me remember I had to let go and embrace that phoenix part of me. To revive from my heartbreakâs teenage drama ashes.
I got a 7 (B-) on that essay. According to the teacher, I was being too abstract, I was âplayingâ with an untouchable author such as Borges and comparing his high poetry to a âcheap movieâ.
Death is not like that. Borges is not talking about the number of endings we get to experience in our lives. Comparing his work to âMy best friendâs weddingâ is just degrading his writing and point of view.
Well, I donât know about that. Maybe the teacher was right, maybe she was not. 7 or not 7, I got my High School diploma, while trying to rebuild a condemned relationship and failed. But through that process, Iâve learned it was not about that guy or grades or High School or how I saw the movie related to Borgesâ work. It is (and was) about us, about me and how I was feeling that poem.
Sometimes, we do not always understand what we are reading or listening. âAn example for that is when you like that song and replay it over and over again although you donât understand a word itâs saying because you donât speak the languageâ. Itâs not always about understanding, but feeling. Itâs about dancing, and singing, and writing, and reading, and sharing⊠Itâs about dying and being reborn again, and again, and again.
After all, we are the stories we tell, and there are so many. All those stories weâve left behind, and all those stories waiting for us to live them.
A song, a book are portals to moments that we get to live all over again (through feelings, of course), and itâs like we are able âjust for a fraction of timeâ to defy science and time and odds.
Rules do not apply to memories or, better, rules do not apply to what makes our soul feel alive.
Hereâs why you should write 100 words today:
Why not? Hereâs raining, cold, and my Spotify âwriterâsâ playlist is going on and on (yes, again). I share this mood with you to put you up to the task.Â
Putting your thoughts, feelings, words and/or even stories out there (and by âout thereâ I mean into a piece of paper or blank digital space), is a way of beginning this writing voyage and discovering your voice, interest and inner-self.Â
100 words are just the tip of the iceberg. There are so many words, sentences, paragraphs waiting to be written by you. But, like every journey, you have to give your first steps (also known as âbaby stepsâ). â100 wordsâ doesnât sound so terrible, does it? A century of words. Your words.
And if you do not know what to write about, here I am! If you get to the end of this story, I invite you to write about mutation. Those episodes in life that died but through music or reading, you get to relive them many times as you want.
Before this voyage comes to its end:
If you liked this #2 â100 Words Voyageâ but also enjoy the Spanish language. You can follow me on Instagram and also listen to my podcast, âThe Unexpectedâ.
If you like what I do and would like to support my work, here you can invite me a drink in Argentina đŠđ· or buy me a beer if you are in any other part of the đ.
You can also share this newsletter if you think it would be of interest to any of your friends, family, partners or just casual people you meet out there.
Thanks for sharing this journey with me! I hope it inspires you to write your own stories and share them with the world. After all, is not that what are we made off?
See you next weekend đÂ
Bon voyage!