The Scorpion And The Frog

My ability to write a story through is about as deficient in the span of my attention as my eye for one man. But, in my attempt to give you all of me, I will continue to continue… Note that the order in which my stories are published is not necessarily the order in which they are lived, and while the people are real to me, the characters should read as fiction for you as they are painted by my perception. My story is mine alone.

From my journal, a day in February, 2014:

Do you know the fable of The Scorpion And The Frog?

The frog agrees to carry the scorpion across the river and the scorpion promises not to sting the frog. Halfway across, the scorpion breaks his promise. The drowning frog asks the scorpion, “why?”

“Because I’m a scorpion. It’s my nature to sting.”

Sometimes I want so badly to see the beauty in someone that I neglect to see all that they show me. Such was the case with The Mayor in March of last year. And while I have now observed him for months, fully aware of “his nature to sting,” I wouldn’t be honest if I said he didn’t continue to have a mysterious hold on me. The Mayor was the first man on my journey for whom I fell and by whom my heart was quickly broken. The first man for whom I changed my traditional signature. The first man for whom I wrote, “Together in Love.”

Just the other day, I got stung by a scorpion hiding in my shoe.

I felt nothing but the fear of a pain that wouldn’t come. I waited to feel the much anticipated weakness in my spine, the numbness in my tongue, to be paralyzed. But, it was just the prick of a needle on my toe, and then… nothing. As it turns, I am not as allergic to scorpion venom as I am to the sting of a man.

Accept people for who they are.

Don’t go to bed with scorpions.

Together in Love!

xob

A Comedy Of Errors

The way pizza night unfolded was brilliant. Like a comedy of errors, the Universe put on a play last night! First, I met my Goddess sister. I’ll call her Conscious. She recognized me as her Soul Sister, and introduced me to her Guide, of whom she referred as her “parting gift” to me as in recent days, Conscious has met her partner, fallen deeply in love, and will be setting off by sailboat to circle the world.

“I must introduce you to Bianca,” Conscious began, “our Spirit Sister on the verge of un-Earthing her full Goddess self.”

“Well, however did you know?” With a wink, and a smile (she can SEE me), I’ll play.

I’ve known Conscious for some time as she teaches yoga at the hotel (I’ve made my office) near my home in Nicaragua, and while I could never bring myself to remember her name, I was always so happy to see her smiling face as her hugs had a way of penetrating my being. There are some people for whom hugs are a meeting of body and soul. Maybe you have felt this? Maybe you, too, will have this pleasure one day… Certainly, that is my hope for you.

So connected am I with Conscious, that the same woman intent on causing me pain has been after her too. Remember the Bully? The “Other“? The blond Malificent, a fugitive of her former life in Canada, a bandita, a fraud, a childnapper, an energy sucker, formerly my neighbor though never my friend in El Camino del Sol, who made the destruction of my life her life’s ambition? With relentless pursuit, she had been after my Sister Conscious too.

So, why am I bullied when I have only love to give? Easy. “You’re a B.I.T.C.H: BEAUTIFUL. INTELLIGENT. TALENTED. CHARMING, and HOT.” Conscious explained. The more she spoke, the more I learned. The I learned, the more I yearned. The more she shared, the more I saw myself in her. She SEES me. I see Conscious. Time and again, a tear would form and fall. Living on the edge of a world you were born into, no longer from there but not yet where you’re going, can be a lonely experience. FEAR NOT. “Keep going…” Conscious directed, almost in warning. “Keep moving…” along your path. “Keep WORKING.” Of course, “work” is different than it used to be. Employed now by Her (not Conscious, but HER: The Universe, my Mother, my Father, my God), I am taken care of. I want and need for nothing as The Universe provides for me. TRUST. I no longer need money.

…Women will be envious of your position, and men will be threatened by your power. Then there are the Unknowing who simply will not understand you. Because people fear what they do not understand, the Unknowing, in their attempt to define you will try to confine you. It can be lonely living differently. Tonight I will be your student, Conscious teach me. “Adrienne was once where you stand: young, beautiful, and on the cusp of enlightenment. But she didn’t make it through, so she’s envious of you. She sees your power and the greatness ahead of you. But she was left behind.”*

SHE DIDN’T MAKE IT. These words hit me hard, sending a quiver of what I can only describe as Fear through me… What if I don’t make it? Of my place, I am fully aware that I. Am. Not. Quite… There. But, of where I am going, I can see there is no place better for me. PARADIS.

FEAR NOT. KEEP GOING. As my entire existence here in Nicaragua is the realization of a manifestation. I must continue to believe.

This past week, I met Em. A traveler staying at Mango Rosa. A passer-through. A girl intent on fighting me. And not just me, but everyone. My first interaction with her, also at Pizza (I must either stop going to pizza, or keep going to pizza) she bitched me out for no good reason. I was crowding her space, she said. While I should have felt sorry that my presence was too much for her to bear, I allowed her instead to get to me. Admittedly, I still have “work” to do. Em was a BITCH too, Conscious verified, but in an elementary stage. Em is fighting hurt. It’s true, she was so angry. I wasn’t enlightened enough to see past her approach. She was mean. But I was sensitive enough to feel her. I mirrored her pain. She angered me. Until last night, I couldn’t understand why I felt so disturbed. I am not angry. It’s only recently that I have started channeling. This gift can still confuse me.

As if meeting my soul sisters wasn’t enough, the play that night was only just beginning to unfold. Do remember the man whose Spirit Preceded Him and the beautiful surfista chica with cascading, sun-bleached waves who captured and stole his attention one year ago at Revolucion? Well A is now my friend, and the Mayor is just another lost soul, I now recognize as not fully connected. For months I wondered how, if I truly hold the capacity to see inside of you, that it could be possible to have been so mislead by him. Now, I know that what I saw some time ago really was his spirit. And both the beauty of his light as well as my recollection of it were true: His Spirit “PRECEDED” Him. Literally, his Spirit walks with him, but not IN him. The Mayor has not committed to his guide. He’s not connected.

*NOTE: this quote was later revised with “yet.” She hasn’t made it through YET.

Sex Is Love

Over two decades ago, in the year 1990, Salt-N-Pepa said, “Let’s talk about sex.” So, why did the conversation die?

A few days ago, I posted a provocative photograph with a question about sex and why it remains that in our progressive age this act which so connects us seems also to be the one thing from which people shy most in conversation.

From my Instagram @BiancaSultana:

Following this photo post, as has followed similar photographs, questions or controversies I’ve raised on the subject, I inevitably receive: A) little attention from my female peers as if my question somehow ostracizes the very community to whom I speak most frequently, and B) unintelligible and unimaginative messages from men, frequently from my past expressing the desire to”re-connect” with me. As if I cannot see through their inauthenticity. One message asking simply, “are you horny?” The idiocy of this one really got to me! No, I’m not horny, I’m pensive. I’m WRITING about sex. I’m questioning, exploring and learning about how I FEEL about sex. Trust, if I were horny, I’d be busy.

A traveler who I met on his brief visit to Nicaragua, upon returning to his country and provoked by my last post, said he wished we’d had more time together, suggesting, “we would have had fun!” As if expressing that I enjoy myself sexually meant I’d enjoy myself with anyone, him especially. When I told him that I only have sex with people I love, he was left perplexed and the conversation died there.

So what is SEX?

At thirty-three and fully content in both my desires and their fulfillment, this is what I have learned:

Sex is the meeting of the souls. A comprehensive yet hardly comprehensible, physical expression of the connection that already exists between all of us. A tactile means of satisfying a spiritual bond. Sex cannot exist without LOVE.

From the words of Paulo Coelho in his novel Eleven Minutes:
“Sex is a manifestation of a spiritual energy called love.”

In our society, we teach our youth to fear sex in order to control it, when what we should be preaching is the value in selection. Without love, sex is a mechanical penetration: boring, dull and simply not worth the energy. With love, SEX IS MAGIC.

Together in Love!
xob

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Hace más de dos décadas, en el año 1990, dijo Salt-N-Pepa, “Hablemos de sexo”. Así que, ¿por qué murió la conversación?

Hace unos días, me envió una fotografía provocativa con una pregunta sobre #SEX y por qué lo cierto es que en nuestra época progresiva este acto que tanto nos conecta también parece ser la única cosa de la que las personas evitan la mayor parte en la conversación.

Siguiendo ese puesto foto, como ha seguido similares fotografías, preguntas o controversias he criado en el tema, me inevitablemente recibo: A) poca atención de mis compañeras como si mi pregunta les ofendió de alguna manera la misma comunidad a la que yo hablo con mayor frecuencia, y B) mensajes ininteligibles y sin imaginación de los hombres, con frecuencia de mi pasado que expresa el deseo de “volver a conectar” conmigo. Como si yo no puedo ver a través de su falta de autenticidad. Un mensaje pidiendo simplemente, “¿estás caliente?” La idiotez de éste realmente me! No, yo no estoy caliente, estoy pensativo. Estoy escribiendo sobre el sexo. Yo estoy cuestionando, explorar y aprender sobre cómo me siento sobre el sexo. Confianza, si yo fuera cachonda, estaría ocupado.

Un viajero que conocí en su breve visita a Nicaragua, al regresar a su país y provocado por mi último mensaje, dijo que ojalá hubiéramos tenido más tiempo juntos, lo que sugiere, “habríamos tenido divertido!” Como si la expresión que me gusta a mí mismo significado sexual que me divierto mucho con nadie, él especialmente. Cuando le dije que yo sólo tengo sexo con gente que quiero, que se quedó perplejo y la conversación murió allí.

Entonces, ¿qué es el sexo?

A los treinta y tres años y totalmente contenido en ambos mis deseos y su cumplimiento, esto es lo que he aprendido:

El sexo es la reunión de las almas. Una expresión completa ya la vez difícilmente comprensible, físico de la conexión que ya existe entre todos nosotros. A táctil significa satisfacer un vínculo espiritual. El sexo no puede existir sin el AMOR.

De las palabras de Paulo Coelho en su novela Once Minutos:
“El sexo es una manifestación de una energía espiritual llamada amor.”

En nuestra sociedad, enseñamos a nuestros jóvenes a temer el sexo con el fin de controlarlo, cuando lo que deberíamos estar predicando es el valor en la selección. Sin amor, el sexo es una penetración mecánica: aburrido, aburrido y simplemente no vale la pena la energía. Con amor, SEXO ES MAGIA.

Juntos en el amor!
xob

http://www.BODYbybianca.com

I’m Revolutionary

“I’m a Revolutionary. I’M revolutionary.”

To this, amorously,
He looked at me.
He said my voice is too sweet
to be taken seriously.
He chuckled, then
He kissed me.

It’s true, I have the voice of a Child.
I have the Spirit of one too.

What do you see when you see me?

Do you see a Warrior?
An Evangelist?
Is it a Lady you see?

How about,
An Anarchist?
A Communist?
A Socialist?
All things They told me/ “taught” me
NOT to be…

Because I CHOOSE to LIVE DIFFERENT-ly?
To Live my Life greatly. Not “decently?”

What do you see when you look at me?

“Go to school. Work hard. Make a decent living,” They said. So, I was always good at school, but guess what? I sucked at life when I graduated Wesleyan University. School never taught me any of the things I needed to know to be a Player in Their Game. How to really succeed. How to Thrive. Balance a checkbook, pay rent or how to save to buy, get a loan, maintain “good credit” or build it… Instead, I learned, or rather by NOT learning, by NOT being taught the skills I needed to claim the Sultana’s throne, I was Made… to FALL IN LINE.

System FAIL. I have never fallen in line. From ice skating to ballet to science class, pre-K to University, then on to every job I have ever held, my teachers, my peers and my bosses, to my mother will attest, I have always talked back. I have always been “too smart for [my] own good,” as if “too smart” could not be good. I am a Bitch. A Boss Bitch. A Bad Bitch. A Warrior and a Winner. I’m nice, and I’m polite, an educated Woman, I’m a nurturer, I’m a Lady. I’m an Adventurer, a Trail Blazer and a Visionary, I’m a Taker and a Giver, I’m a Teacher, I’m a Student, I’m an Athlete, I’m a Lover…

I’m Bianca Sultana. Translation: I Am The White Queen.

I chose LIFE over DEATH when I left the West. I traded the First World, for the Third World when I moved from New York to Nicaragua (with a pit stop in South Florida – two moves I made alone). I play to live, I won’t work to die. Now, a million misadventures and tiny blessings fill my days.

Here’s how I’ll leave you today:

1. Question everything They say.
2. Make your own way.
3. Buy a plane ticket and with me, come to stay.

You may just find that you, too, like life better this way. I live Everyday Better, so everyday is the best day of my life!

Join the movement.

Together in Health, in Love and in Life!
xob

The Boxer And The Hippie

My sights were set on the Brewer when I met the Boxer and the Hippie. For that reason, I paid them fairly little mind that Friday night at Muchies Bluues.

The Boxer spoke with me first. His interest apparent, he was unquestionably good looking. But, the Brewer’s presence proved too strong a distraction from the chiseled shoulders and masculine jawline of the Boxer to the left of me.

Still, I’ll play… “From where are you traveling?”

“Norway.”

I have become reliant on this question as a means of deciphering those passing through from the few here to stay.

“And, where are you boys staying?” I motioned to his friends.

“His place over Majagual,” he motions to the Hippie.

As if instinctually (he lives here…), my attention was averted.

“You live here?” I asked.

“Yes,” replied the Hippie.

“Me too!”

To my response, likewise glued his attention. A single girl, who also lives here? I felt the immediate pull of his affection.

I read truth in his intentions. And while lacking the muscularity of the Boxer, the strength of the light beyond his eyes proved powerful enough to not only catch but to hold my attention. He was beautiful. For the moment, the Brewer was forgotten. A moment as brief as my flirtatious eye would permit, but productive, as I had had garnered both an invitation and directions to his hilltop hacienda. My attention redirected.

“When heading into town from your casa, take a sharp left and follow the dirt road through a series of ups, downs and round-abouts until you reach a paved ascent. At the highest point, and when the pavers end, take a right. There will be a sign with the Spanish translation for ‘Morning Light.'” Ooh… Adventura!

The next morning was spent following up on emails, solidifying pending guest reservations for my healthy home, selfie-ing and posting on social media: You CAN change your life. You CAN live Everyday Better. YOU CAN DO IT! #BODYbybianca

Then, past noon, I strapped on my hiking boots, leashed Bear and followed by a golden retriever named Bambu, we headed for adventure.

It was a hot afternoon, but the promise of a pool and a cold beverage upon arrival was enough motivation. To Morning Light…

We found the house deserted. So, continued toward the playa where he promised he would be with his puppy in tow. It was on the beach where our day turned night was intercepted as we arrived just before sunset to find the Boxer and his eight-pack sitting on the rocks overlooking the tide.

Damn! He was good looking…

TBC. xob

I Like You. But I Like Him Too.

You haven’t chose me. We’re not married. But, you see me with another man and you want to lay claim over me? Why must you possess me and not enjoy me in the time we share together. The time I gift you. Because, you see….

I like you.

But, I like him too.

I have said it many times, there is a position open in my life for ONE Man. I thrive in a relationship. It is natural for me to care for you thoroughly. To feed you, caress you, take care of you, are all the things I love to do. But, I am single and in the past, my MO is to get into monogamous relationships with the first boy that doesn’t mind when I stick around longer than a night or two. These relationships all seem to last two years, which leaves me two years older. So, now, I am the picker and I won’t settle for comfort when that which I seek is love that is true.

I have loved, but I don’t know whether I have ever been in love. To be in love, I believe, is a two-way street and there has not been a man in my life that has loved me in the same capacity that I have shown.

Recently, the way in which I love has changed. I have learned that to love is to appreciate and not to possess. There was a time I strangled love to death. Fear of love lost drove me toward possession. But, people are not possessions and love is the antithesis of fear. My love is free because I love freely.

“A rose possessed will always die.”

Together in Love!
xob

25

Me: “How old are you?”

Muscles: “I’ll be 26 soon.”

“So, 25?”

“Yeah.”

I chuckle. Of course…

They always are. Or close. And for some reason every man-child in San Juan is a surfer or rides BMX or both and I don’t mind. Lines between their shoulders and their tris… Something to hold onto on their bikes from behind. Oh, you sport the brand of your tag crew? Aren’t you sweet. A tattoo of your Norwegian underground rap troop? Lovely. New ink? Show me!

 

Clearly, what I want has changed. The shift happened at thirty. Now, I wouldn’t say I am a cougar… Yet. But, I am definitely headed in that direction. For now, in the words of my friend Vince, I’m really just “a little girl in a woman’s body.” At 23, my spirit-child is closer to 25 then 33. Twenty-five year olds just seem to be the age of the men who approach me. A few years ago, I may have scoffed at a man so young, now, I appreciate him. Thoroughly.

I used to like suits. Two-piece, three, Double-Windsored and bow-tied. There was a time, in New York, when nothing seemed more attractive than a man in tailored threads. The Fashionista and The Finance guy… Equally glamorous and well-healed was I, we “worked.” Now, a Jungle Child, I prefer my boys like my dog, wild.

I hear you work in an office…at a desk…crunching numbers: yawn-fest. “You…’work’?” The word alone has become a turnoff. Don’t get me wrong, broke without goals is not a turn-on. But, when you do what you love, what you “do” isn’t “work”, and if you never make a dime but you live everyday as the best day of your life, won’t you be mine? Now, he’s young, talented and in passion’s pursuit… Chiseled and sun-kissed. My dating pool is now one-hundred times hotter than it ever was. Sometimes, I feel for my girlfriends in the dark in New York. It’s not fair. So, I share…because I care. Would you come here? Change your life… Care to stroke your fingers through long hair?

Together in Love… From my Home in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua!

xob

Change Your Mind To Transform Your BODY

Despite my being vocal online, a lot of people (even friends) don’t seem to know what I do. Most people imagine I am a personal trainer, and I am! But, only for a very select, high-paying few. What I specialize in is Mind, BODY and Life Transformations via fitness and nutrition remote coaching through the BODYbybianca Training System, a sixteen week program designed not only to change your BODY, but your habits and your mind. Working closely with me by email, phone, skype and text, your perception of health and fitness will forever be changed. Through the program, you will learn the skills personal training alone will never teach you, to reach, maintain and surpass your goals! When you enroll into my program, you become a member of Team BODYbybianca, a dedicated group of my clients from around the world; fitties training together online and supporting one another in a private group on Facebook where you will receive daily support from myself, my current and past clients (graduates of the program). You will receive a comprehensive meal plan tailored to your BODY and your goals with recipes to ensure that you never have a craving that isn’t met with a healthy alternative. Via email, every Sunday, you will receive your weekly fitness schedule (with images and video) for weightlifting and custom BODYbybianca cardio programs designed to target fat-burning while preserving muscle mass for a lean, toned and fit look.

In honor of “Transformation” and “Throwback” Thursday, here are some TBTs from clients and graduates at various stages of the BODYbybianca Training System:

This past year has been a period of transition for me. When chance landed me in Nicaragua on March 18th of 2014, I knew immediately that my life was forever changed and felt a strong sensation, right out of the airport, that Nicaragua was my home. I had eighteen clients enrolled in my program, I saw their contracts through without taking on new business, and proceeded to spend the next nine months on a sabbatical of sorts. For two months, I solo backpacked Nicaragua, traveling South through Costa Rica scouting locations for fitness retreats and a place to call home. Following my voyage in Central America, an extended month of travel lead me to Harbour Island, Bahamas; Scottsdale, Arizona; and New York City, where I caught up with many of my remote coaching clients and attended my fifteen year high school reunion. Assured Nicaragua was, indeed, where I was meant to be, I returned to my home in Florida where I settled my belongings, selling what I could, packing what I could carry and giving away the rest. October 16th, 2014 marks my homecoming to San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, where the next 10 weeks were spent finding my way in a new country, exploring a new culture and learning a new language, in which I am now fully immersed. January 1, 2015, just one week ago, I started working again. Maybe you have noticed I have been rather busy online, updating the blog, Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook with new recipes, pictures, stories of love and adventure and daily motivation inspired by my very real and really awesome life in the jungle. That said, I am accepting admissions for a NEW class, the first of 2015 for Team BODYbybianca!

The cost of the program, in which you are contracted for sixteen weeks — because I need sixteen weeks to change your BODY — is $200 per month with a $200 enrollment fee (half of which is credited to you upon successful completion of the program and delivery of biweekly progress pictures). Everyone changes! Are you ready? GET LOCKED IN!

Email me at BODYbybianca@gmail.com or message me on Facebook.com/BiancaSultana to inquire about enrollment.

Together in Health!

xob

Homemade Almond Butter

Since moving to Nicaragua, one of the U.S. treats I miss the most is my organic raw almond butter. In New York and in Florida, it was such a staple in my diet! A healthy fat, with benefits for my hair, skin, nails, and fat metabolism, a spoonful of almond butter helps curb my appetite for sugary carbs and chocolate. I love it on my protein pancake or in my oatmeal in the morning! But, in Nicaragua, nut butters are not accessible, and despite there being peanut farms, you cannot find peanut butter outside of the imported Jiffy brand which is highly processed and very expensive. So…

I MADE MY OWN!

This is my first attempt at making any nut butter, and it was so easy, I will never buy costly packaged nut butters again! Here’s how…
1. Soak raw almonds in water overnight (I left mine soaking in the fridge for two days because I was busy and no harm done!) I added just enough water to cover a large bowl of nuts (full raw almonds, skin intact). After a few hours the almonds greedily sucked up the water so I added a bit more and repeated that process once more.
2. Using a high powered blender (I love my Ninja blender, pictured), blend the almonds with all of the leftover liquid in the bowl.

This turned into a rather gritty almond mixture.

To smooth out the butter, I slowly added little bits of water to the blender until a creamy mouse-like texture was reached. And, voilà!

Today I used my homemade almond butter on my pancake with homemade strawberry-blackberry preserves! No berries in Nicaragua, I brought a large bag back from my Christmas trip to Costa Rica and made the jam as a way to preserve the fruit and enjoy it for longer! Another easy recipe which you can find, along with the BODYbybianca Pancake recipe on my blog (look for the jam recipe posted in April from Costa Rica).

Together in Health!
xob

My Head, My Tits, And My Ass!

Ever grabbed your head, your tits and and your ass, looked up at the sky and thanked God to be alive? I have that experience in Central America everyday!

Here are some pics of Monica and I surfing a secret beach in Costa Rica. We ran out of gas on the road and were blessed with a Tico fix from a friendly passerby who helped me to push the truck up the hill as Monica steered and brought us gas in a bottle on the side of the road (everyday, a new adventure!). The waves were super fun and I surfed awesome (I’m getting better everyday!) but there’s always one that takes me under and the more confident I get, the more gnarly my wipeouts! This time it was one of the largest waves I’ve gone for and my nose took a dive as I fell over the falls, I tucked into a ball, prayed for my board and fins not to hit me, grabbed my head, my tits, and my ass, popped up and thanked God for my life!

Another day…

Together in Health!
xob