The Weaving of Her Stories: ...The Journeys of Nine Women into Their Hearts...

By Moonlight Stars

The book is an unique experiment where the nine authors were given complete freedom of expression and an approach to each chapter. They were asked to write from their hearts, whatever resonated with them at any given moment, to write in any style, any length of each chapter. Anything and everything was welcomed. We encourage the reader to approach the book with an open mind and self awareness of their own response to the writings...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press UK
• Release date: Apr 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781982281335

Moonlight Stars

They are nine amazing women who at various points of their life chose to or had to leave their home land, and later in their life connected in Edinburgh, Scotland to share their perception on life, that was shaped by the experience of migration.

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Copyright © 2020 Moonlight Stars.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by

any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author

except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.co.uk

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views

of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-8132-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-8133-5 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 04/06/2020

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Contents

Foreword

Chapter 1   Goodbye

Chapter 2   Hello World

Chapter 3   Planting the Roots

Chapter 4   The Simple Things

Chapter 5   Letting Go

Chapter 6   Bridging the Gap

Chapter 7   Keeping It Real

Chapter 8   Beyond The Pale

Chapter 9   Connecting the Dots

Chapter 10   The Rainbow of Life

Chapter 11   Home is Where The Heart is

Chapter 12   Returning Home

Chapter 13   The Moonlight Stars…

Epilogue

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Foreword

At the beginning there was an idea.

A gift to us all. To share our life stories, to connect and open our minds. To be seen to be honest and vulnerable. And that takes a lot of courage…

Many were invited; a few heard the call…

This book was an experiment from the start in every sense and a blessing to watch its evolution taking shape naturally, trusting the flow of intuition…

The authors were given complete freedom of expression. They were asked to write from their hearts, whatever resonated with them at any given moment, to write in any style, any length of each chapter and to approach each chapter however they wanted.

The suggestion was to write a message, our personal story or perception on life or whatever was felt to be expressed at that moment. The titles of the chapters were given on weekly bases, starting from the end of July 2018, finishing in January 2019. The authors communicated sporadically during the writing period, no one influenced the writing of a fellow writer.

We are very grateful to our friends and families for editing our writings as English is not our first language. It was sometimes tricky not to get our messages lost in translation…

It is an honour to introduce The weaving of her stories to the world. We trust that every reader can find something for themselves. It might serve as a self reflection or a deepening of one’s understanding or perhaps a new found perception and compassion for a fellow human being. We encourage the reader to approach the book with an open mind and self awareness of their own response to the writings.

We all have learned so much about ourselves and the collective during the process of co-creating the book. When we occasionally came across some perceived difficulties, we were always able to overcome these through mutual love and respect.

A sincere appreciation goes to Iza Waszak for creating all of the illustrations for the book, to Louise Clarke and Rico Kosedy for their editing input and to Elle Durnan and Sharon Roberts for their ongoing support in many and various ways and for the love we share.

The proceeds from this book will go with gratitude to

The Planetary Healing Centre in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Chapter 1

Goodbye

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PD

Where is my Home,

My Home?

Why can’t I breathe

In this Earth Paradise no more?

Misunderstood, lost and lonely

The joy of life long gone

To find my own happiness

Traveling all alone

The child once so excited

About the life and all

Eager to learn everything

No fear of any fall

What happened to the happy girl

Who loved with all her heart?

Where did her laughter disappear?

And why did the sadness start?

When playfulness and joy

Seemed no longer allowed

Self- doubt cast her trust away

She felt the power of the crowd

Becoming a stranger day by day

Both within and without

Trying to fit into a society

The internal fight had begun

Biting her tongue

And grinding her teeth

For many years served

As the only release

Then with the teen spirit

Separated at the most

Where is she heading?

Unaware, naive and lost

Desperate to fill the empty space

Now dwelling deep inside

With toxic relations and substances

Pretending to be fine

Increasingly confused and wounded

Isolated and in pain

The inner compass broken and damaged

Feeling the burning shame

So in despair for salvation

She finally stood up

Choosing to be her own saviour

And to find the long lost map

Travelling over the Ocean

Into the unknown

Farewell to her loved ones

In order to heal and grow

SG

Bogotá, Colombia, El Dorado Airport, August 2001, Sylviana Geoffray Rodriguez, sixteen years of age, only one year left to finish high school…only one year,but my franco-colombian family of six is moving to France. I am about to graduate from the high school and would most likely leave to study in France.

My parents made the decision to go back to France after fifteen years living in Colombia. It felt like a sensible decision: there is family there, no language or immigration barriers, job opportunities, no cultural shock, after all Dad is French, we are all half French and you have been studying in the French school in Bogotá since the age of three, you’ll have no problem adapting to school over there.

Here we are at the airport, eleven heavy suitcases ready to be checked in and the rest of the belongings coming by boat later. Final destination: Toulouse, centre town, a three bedroom apartment already rented by our uncle. Will it fit all of our belongings? In Bogotá we lived in a big house with a garden, with two dogs and a cat, and we also had a farm…the house had been sold, the farm was rented, the dogs had been given away and the cat stayed with our maid. The detachment process had begun for us six months before our departure.

Wow, twenty five people, close friends and family are here at the airport to say goodbye, I didn’t expect this, I feel honored and happy to see them all here, I am so emotional. We take a final group picture before going through security, my heart starts to tighten, I can’t hold my tears with each given embrace. As I wave goodbye, I am sobbing while desperately looking for a tissue before I hand out my passport. Goodbye family, goodbye friends, goodbye last year of high school with childhood friends, goodbye basketball team, goodbye recently met boyfriend…

I look around and I realize that I am one more Colombian saying goodbye to family and friends and leaving the country…one more family to add to the statistics. This is it, our time here is up.

As the plane takes off I hold my Mum’s hand and we both cry so hard the other passengers stare at us. Deep inside I promise myself that I will return someday, because I believe that I can contribute to make things better, I feel it is my duty as a Colombian citizen to come back, I do not want to leave forever, I don’t want to get a nice education abroad and then never come back. I can’t be one more Colombian leaving for good, if we all leave, who is going to stay to help out? to change things? to make things more fair, more peaceful for everyone? I tell myself I have to go back, I make a promise I will."

Writing about this departure seventeen years later awakens a deep feeling of loss in me, reprocessing this event makes me realize today that my roots were being cut as the plane was taking off, those strong roots were being cut off from the mountains of La Calera around Bogotá, I think particularly of the roots of that massive bent tree where I used to spend hours playing when I was a child. As we fly over the mountains I think of the trees of the páramo forest, three thousands meters high, where I used to build huts with branches and decorate them with carpets of soft green moss. When I was a child I would spend hours playing outside with my older brother and neighbour, we would climb trees, pick berries, play with the horses, donkey and dogs. I lived beside a public school so sometimes when I would hear the recess bell, I would ride my bike and go for a visit and play with the kids that were outside playing basketball. I would lend my bike and they would take turns to learn how to ride it. At the end of the day my mum would always whistle from the house and that would be the sign for us to go home for supper, a whole day would be spent like that. Once school started for me, days like this were limited to weekend and holidays, days where I would lose myself in the land, in the mist, in the forests of the páramo. As the plane flies over the Atlantic I think of all my summer holidays spent in the coast, days spent going to the beach, snorkeling in the reef, swimming to a special boat that had a roof where you could jump from, playing cards with friends until late at night…so many memories with friends and family. My sectioned roots are starting to dry out in the long flight. I can now see what that process meant for me and why it took me years to grow roots again and then years to root them back into fertile soil.

SM

My name is Stephanie Moreno Legast. Being born in Bogota, Colombia, I have left my country twice. My mother is Belgian and my father Colombian. I have both nationalities and this has been an amazing gift for me. The way I live and see the world is marked by this bicultural influence from my parents and family.

The first time I left the country was as a child. I was four years old and I went with my family to live in Madrid. My father had a new job in Spain and we stayed there for two years. As you can imagine, I don’t remember very well how the departure and the return to Colombia was. Nevertheless, I do have memories from that time and I want to share two of them with you.

First of all, when I was in Spain, my younger sister was born! I still remember when we met her in the hospital and how my other sister and I were so happy and proud to take her to school and introduce her to our teachers and friends. With her, our family was complete.

Secondly, I made friends with a girl who is one of my oldest friends today. When we left Spain, my friend and her family came to Colombia to visit us! Then we kept our friendship alive through letters and email. We also met some times in real life, I travelled to Spain and she to Colombia. And one of the reason that I wanted to talk about her is that now, thirty two years later, I have just been to Spain again and this time to celebrate her wedding!

So, my first long journey out of Colombia gave me a sister and a friend, two loving relationships for life.

When we came back, I was six years old and I lived in Bogota until my eighteenth birthday. When I finished school, I left the country for Geneva, Switzerland, in order to study psychology. Even though my mother is Belgian, a part of our family lives in Switzerland. So I stayed there for four years and then studied two more years in France.

Leaving Colombia when I was eighteen was the beginning of a new cycle in my life. In this new country, Switzerland, I felt both nostalgic and excited. I was living far away from my parents, sisters and friends, far away from my history, far away from my country and culture. At the same time, I was surrounded by mother’s family and step by step I made new friends. I made new experiences and new roots began to grow on this other continent. I lived in Europe for seven years and then decided to return to Colombia. People used to ask me: are you back definitely? And I used to answer: I am definitely back for an indefinite time! I don’t know if I will live in Bogota forever, but what I do know is that I feel at home here, as well as I feel at home in Switzerland and lately I have been feeling that home is within!

Good bye Colombia, hello world!

RG

I left Naples one morning, one hot summer day, while a storm was raging both in the sky and in my heart. That day it was the very first time in my life I had been on a plane. After that first flight I was convinced that all flights are supposed to be as bumpy as that one and that turbulence is a normal part of the trip. I simply thought that that was the way you fly. I was not scared though. It did not occur to me to be afraid because I didn’t know any difference. I was also not scared or anxious about leaving my home town because I had never been anywhere in my life apart from a few school trips in my teens. I was not afraid of going to a foreign country and traveling alone because I didn’t know what it meant. I was so young and naïve and did not speak any other language than Italian. My ignorance of anything that might have been slightly different from my world saved me and helped me to say goodbye to my country with no looking back. Being ignorant of differences, ignoring the unknown, made me confident, adventurous, spontaneous and surprisingly courageous and creative. All I knew, at the time, was that I would get lost, but that I would eventually find my way back again. And that is exactly what happened. I was only flying to the UK from Italy but it was a very big deal for me, I had never been abroad and no one in my family had before me. Having not a word of English did not seem a problem at the time. I thought I would learn quickly and get a job, and then keep traveling. Fifteen countries, four languages, three continents and 16 years later, I still wish someone had warned me. I left my town on a rainy day, a summer storm in the sky pushing my plane away from the south of Italy, a country I felt too small and old for me, toward the London I had dreamed of. I did not look back for a second. I was so ready to go that I did not bother to even touch the ground or kiss my land, my roots. I did not kiss my parents either. I wanted to go as far as I could to leave my whole life behind. There was nothing in particular I expected to happen in London. I was only twenty two and the thrill of being free was