Journey to Love

By Christina Houri

Christina Houri wants you to find your soul and reach your highest potential, all while living a life of purpose. In this book, she helps you identify your negative relationship patterns and improve your life.

Christina, who left this world in 2014, spent her life searching for something beyond the ordinary. Journey to Love is a chronicle of her introspective journey with dozens of takeaway tips. Both memoir and guide for pursuing a path to wholeness, it reveals Christina’s experiences in love and heartbreak, confusion and clarity. With her spiritual mission driving her, Christina endured darkness—and she discovered light. Her purpose was “to help anyone who is willing to see the truth.”

Even if you never met Christina in person, this book will give you the chance to get to know this remarkable woman and her insight on courage, spiritual growth, and living in peace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ElsiHakim
• Release date: Mar 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9780998389400

Christina Houri

Christina Houri was born in Kuwait. She grew up in Lebanon, lived in Greece and France during the first part of the civil war in Lebanon, and then moved to New York City in 1981 at age fourteen. She attended the Lycée Français de New York until 1984, and after two years at Syracuse University, she transferred to the Fashion Institute of Technology in 1986, earning an AAS in fashion design. She did an apprenticeship in Paris for Maison Givenchy and later was a buyer at Colt Mercantile in New York City. She worked at Club Med in the French West Indies, the Bahamas, and Florida, which were formative years because she ran some of their boutiques and organized their fashion shows. While working at Le Jardin à l’Ouest, a French American preschool, as an assistant teacher, she learned she loved being around kids. She worked various jobs until, finally in 2006, she realized her dream of opening her own preschool in New York City. It was her pride and joy. Called Le Petit Paradis Preschool, it was a French bilingual two-classroom school based on Montessori and Bank Street philosophies and one of the first green preschools in New York City.

Book preview

FOREWORD

My dear friend Tina Houri shared everything with me. And yet, she’d always say, You’ll understand me more when you read my book. And she was right.

Now that I have read her book, the book you hold in your hands, I see that Tina was like all of us—in search of love, happiness, and home.

She left so much love wherever she went and in whatever she touched. In her journey, she learned that her search was for something much more important than a job or any tangible thing.

Tina was in search of her soul.

Once she found her true soul, she sent us all the lessons she learned along the way—all written here, in this book. Reading my friend Tina’s words will guide you toward a better and easier life on Earth.

Tina shares her journey to teach us about our own little paradise, the world that surrounds us every day. She didn’t realize that her journey was being written to guide us, and yet, with every word, she gave us that power.

I met Tina in 1984. We were both studying at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT). Tina was earning her associate degree in fashion design. I was a few years her senior, and one day I happened to be in the mail room when I saw a new mail slot that said Christina Houri. I recognized the name as a Lebanese one, and being Lebanese myself, I looked forward to meeting her.

Tina happened to be walking by and reached in to get her mail. I said hello, asked if she was Lebanese (she said yes, and that she was part Greek and part Lebanese), and we started talking. We went to get coffee and quickly bonded. We introduced our mothers to each other; they also became fast friends. I am still close with Tina’s mom, Elsi, who shares more of Tina’s story in the epilogue of this book.

Tina and I remained good friends through the years. I admired so many things about her, but one instance in particular remains in my mind: how she handled loss.

During a difficult time in her life, her financial situation changed drastically. And yet, Tina didn’t. She handled the negative change with grace, proof that possessions are not the key to happiness. We all know that, of course. Yet, by her actions, she showed how little she coveted material things. She didn’t let the change get her down in any way. She never complained. She just kept on living her life with joy.

And that’s only one of many instances during which I watched Tina live the principles she shares in this book. She practiced what she preaches. I am grateful to her for leaving us with her lessons, and I miss her deeply. I believe that even if you weren’t fortunate enough to know Tina, you will know her after reading her words.

And that’s fortunate for all of us.

Thank you, Tina, for this gift.

—Reem Acra

November 2016

My best ME, the way I want to feel, always!

My best ME, the way I want to feel, always!

INTRODUCTION

It was an autumn day

I remember that day in the park

Imagery of gold beauty Surrounded us . . .

The sounds of leaves crackling under my feet So crisp . . .

My field of vision entranced by a palette of colors So vivid . . .

I could still hear the birds singing

Love songs to one another

For it was a day for expression That day so clear to me . . .

Tranquility invaded my body and soul

Purity and serenity flew by me

The lake . . . a mirror of water

A little breeze transported me

Lifting me to places far beyond

That day comes back to me

Once in a while soothing my inner soul

Reminding me how beautiful life can be.

In this book I tell my story, the story of those experiences that pushed me to reach for my highest potential. I find it harder to connect to abstract ideas, but these experiences were truly lived. Yes, truly lived! My hope is that this telling will make my discoveries more tangible, more accessible to everyone.

You need to have two things in order to follow this path of self-realization: the will to grow and the courage to do it. I am blessed to have both. For what is life without a true purpose? What is life without trying to attain one’s highest potential?

Throughout my early childhood and even into my twenties, I was a happy-go-lucky girl. I always tried to be the good girl, and I strived to please everyone around me. My parents sheltered me and my brother and gave us a good life. We rented a house on a different Greek island every summer to spend time with my Greek grandparents. Life as a family was wonderful.

Every couple years, my father’s business moved us to a different country. We finally settled down in New York City, where I finished high school. When it came time to apply for college, I had to fight to pursue my creativity. My father wanted me to go to business school, but I wanted to go to a big university that offered both art and business classes. I ultimately got my way, and to appease my father, I took a few business classes. I studied very hard in these classes, yet I always got Cs on my tests. Meanwhile, in my art classes, I didn’t have to study, and I got all As. Looking at these indisputable facts, I had to confront my father and tell him that my heart was in design, not business. There’s no money in art! he screamed.

But I shrugged off his concerns. After all, I had grown up with financial stability, and he and my mother had taken such good care of me that I had no concept of money and its value. All I wanted was to be happy. I aspired to be a fashion designer, but when I realized that in order to be successful I would have to become a workaholic, I changed my mind, opting for fun, low-paying nine-to-five jobs instead. I was simply not ambitious.

Ever since I can remember, I’d wanted my father to be proud of me. Yet in his eyes I knew that I had failed, because his idea of success was to earn a lot of money and work in a business environment. And even though my mother is also an artist, he simply did not understand the artistic world.

When my parents divorced, I decided to move far away—to try to escape the pain. I thought that only young children were impacted by their parents’ divorce; I was in my midtwenties when that happened and I can assure you that it greatly affected me. I was mature enough to understand that two people can grow apart, but still it saddened me that it happened to my own parents.

For some people, life is a struggle. Perhaps God puts people through hardships as a test to give them a chance to become wise and whole. For some people it is a given—their talent is revealed to them at an early age. They are the lucky ones.

When I was seven years old, I wrote letters of the alphabet on little pieces of paper and stapled them together to make booklets. Then I lined up all my Barbie dolls. Each doll received a booklet, thereby becoming my student. Recalling how enthusiastically I played this game, I think that I was always meant to be a teacher.

Looking back on my life, I see that I have always had a passion to help people grow, to improve themselves, to reach their highest potential. I have become deeply connected to people, and I have tried to support them in whatever way I could. So I thought to myself, why not use a wider frame of communication to reach more people? Though there are many books on the subject, I hope that mine will be different. And that it will help others, no matter what paths they choose.

Christina Houri signature

CHAPTER 1

First LoveChristmas on the slopes.

Christmas on the slopes.

Snuggled in his arms

I feel secure

Like a child

In her mother’s arms

Protected from all things

Life seems peaceful

Nothing in the world

Will ever separate us

Snuggled in his arms

I have nothing to fear

The beauty of life

Surpasses all the problems

Need of nothing

As long as I am

Snuggled in his arms.

yang

I was not looking for love when I went to Colorado to visit a friend. I was just planning to ski and have fun, but my first night there, the universe threw a surprise my way.

I met Matt at a party, and we had an instant connection. I chose to ski with him instead of my friend, and though I felt terrible about it, I also felt like I just had to be with him during my short time in Colorado. On the day of my departure, Matt and I exchanged addresses, and I gave him three hundred dollars to help cover his rent. I had only known Matt for ten days, but that did not matter to me—I knew he was in need and I was happy to help. I was having feelings that I’d never experienced before, and I wished that Matt didn’t live so far from New York. My heart sank when we parted at the airport.

A couple weeks later, I got a three-hundred-d ollar check and a letter from Matt in which he thanked me and let me know that he’d decided to move back east to be closer to me and his family. I was thrilled by this news. After he arrived on the East Coast, we kept in touch, talking on the telephone a few times a week.

I went to visit him for Christmas. He lived in a cozy little cabin surrounded by mountains. In the living room, there was a large window with a view of the small lake across the street. He’d decorated the house in my honor and hung beautiful ornaments on a tall Christmas tree.

On New Year’s Eve, Matt lit a fire in the fireplace. I put on a beautiful black embroidered gown that I knew he would like, and when I walked down the stairs into the living room, I could see Matt’s eyes growing wide. You look beautiful, he said breathlessly, with a big smile on his face. Though he usually wore clothing that reflected his down-to-earth personality—mostly sweatshirts, baggy jeans, and hiking boots—that night he’d also dressed for the occasion in shiny black shoes, black pants, and a hunter-green sweater that matched his eyes. He looked very handsome, his green eyes glowing with happiness.

Matt had set the table with candles, and he’d prepared filet mignon with mushroom sauce, rice, and a salad with a tasty vinaigrette dressing. He did not want me to do anything; I was impressed. Music played softly in the background as we ate, and everything was just perfect. After dinner, we moved to sit in front of the fireplace, where we talked for a while about the love we had for each other and how destiny had brought us together. Then he gave me my Christmas present: a pair of gold earrings, each one made out of three interlocking hoops. Tears came to my eyes—no man other than my father had given me jewelry before, and I’d heard that if a man gives a woman jewelry, it is a sign of true love. I was happy.

We continued to watch the fire, mesmerized by its beauty. Then Matt caressed my hand, and we turned to look deep into each other’s eyes. Finally, we kissed. I started to unbutton his shirt, while he slowly unzipped my dress. We shed our clothes, piece by piece, and made love passionately by the fireplace. Afterward, we didn’t want to leave our little love nest, so we covered ourselves with a blanket and slept, embracing each other and loving every minute of it.

The next few days were spent hiking, ice-skating, talking, laughing, and making love. Matt introduced me to his family. His mother, who had curly blonde hair, a sweet smile, and a shapely figure, was pleased to see her son so happy. His sisters and brothers were there as well; they’d traveled from various parts of the United States to be together. I was having such a magnificent time that I did not want to go back to the city.

But like all fairy tales, this wonderful trip had to end. I returned to New York, and Matt visited me a couple of times throughout the next few years. Together we’d walk around the city, though he did not like the big crowds on the streets; Manhattan can be overwhelming for a country boy.

He was my first true love. And he was an alcoholic. He called me in the middle of one night and said, I drink a lot. I need help. So I looked in the yellow pages and found an Alcoholics Anonymous center close to his town. Soon