As I mentioned a few blog posts back, I have been closely watching Twitter’s famous “Trending Hashtags”. So far I have explored 3 random topics that got hundreds, if not thousands, of people talking. I won’t show all my cards, but rest assured, they bring up very interesting table conversations. Today, however, social media posts sing a different tune and we are all listening.




The tornado disaster that hit Oklahoma yesterday has been resonating with the rest of the country and I must say, it is truly admirable to see these responses. Through incomprehensible shootings to marathon bombings, the United States has remained a  cohesive unit– (n) A group regarded as a distinct entity within a larger group.

According to an article in The Guardian:

“The tornado lasted about an hour on Monday, when it tore through farmland outside Oklahoma City, crossed a river and then headed into Moore. It destroyed hundreds of homes and shops, wiped out two schools and a hospital and left more than 240 people injured, including at least 60 children.” 

I have sat here, in front of this familiar screen, attempting to understand my feelings about this whole thing. Sometimes, I must push through those initial reactions of shock, sadness, and anger before truly deciphering what it is that my heart is trying to say. After reading a few articles and watching a handful of videos, I came across an old blog post pertaining to the “advantages of natural disasters” (yes, you read right). Nat Nanton speaks of making monumental life-changes in light of almost having lost it all.

I have been affected by a book in the last couple of weeks. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho has made its way into most of my life experiences, always finding a dot to connect itself to. As the protagonist, a young boy, makes his way into dangerous paths in pursuit of his Personal Legend, he embraces his potential death:

“Walking along in the the silence, he had no regrets. If he died tomorrow, it would be because God was not willing to change the future […]. He had lived every one of his days intensely since he had left home so long ago. If he died tomorrow, he would already have seen more than other shepherds, and he was proud of that”  

The truth is that dying in a car crash, or in a tornado, or diving off a cliff holds the same power. A trending hashtag is enough to throw us off, but not because people are not genuinely praying for those affected, but because most of us don’t believe it could happen to us. We don’t. I don’t.

It is easy to lose sight of this, and join a conversation, but tomorrow, when the hashtag is gone, what will happen to you?

The key lies in doing as the boy, and living every day intensely; aware of the choices we make and the prints we leave for others in our name. So in remembrance of those in #Oklahoma who won’t get today or tomorrow to live as they would have wished, let’s ask ourselves:

What are our most important things in life? 



The Power of the Hand Cycle

This past weekend I decided to volunteer. It is crazy to think back at my high school days when my mom “forced” me, per say, so lend my time to others. Now, it almost comes naturally. With 7 months of San Diego sunshine under my belt, I think it was time for me to give back to the community, and of course, I chose Therapeutic Recreation Services. For those not familiar with this organization, TRS is focused on special needs inclusion; they put on recreational programs for kids and adults with disabilities all year round.

I woke up Saturday feeling a little groggy. I don’t know why (perhaps it’s the unemployment bug), but it has been very difficult to get out of bed in a good mood lately. After 2 outfit changes, I was greeted by warm ocean air as I stepped out the door. If you haven’t been to San Diego, there is just one thing you need to know: EVERYONE loves activity. It was barely 9am and there were people everywhere. Walking, jogging, biking, skateboarding, elliptical-riding (don’t ask me the technical term, but that’s exactly what it looks like), and of course, hand cycling.

I volunteered for the hand cycling program, geared towards getting participants without full lower body function up and moving. Allow me to introduce the hand cycle:


Though it seems like an innovative, breezy ride, let me tell you, you’ve got to have some serious guns to operate it. Hence, the star of my story emerges. Bill was a 60-something man who had wheeled in, in what I could describe as a ‘groggy’ mood (coincidence?).

Mariana, you’ll be escorting Bill. Grab a bike” the volunteer coordinator directed me

I am not going to lie. It was a very intimidating feeling. Transferring him from the chair to the bike, strapping on his helmet, and buckling him in, felt a lot different than my usual 8 year-old encounter, but after a few helmet changes, we were ready to roll ( pun intended).

This helmet is so fashion forward Bill!” I said, attempting to break the ice

Fashion forward? What does that mean?” He inquired about the foreign terminology

After a very comical explanation (I’m a hand talker), Bill and I were both a little more relaxed. It took me a few minutes to realize that his disability was only physical, but a lot longer to discover that this would be one of the most interesting bike rides I had ever been on.

I traveled around Europe for 100 days in 1970. Hitchhiked the whole way and only spent about $850,” he narrated in such an enticing way that I almost crashed my bike a few times. He explained how normal that was back then and the 35 cent nightly rates you could score at youth hostels (I know!).

I traveled for 23 days and spent triple that amount!” I countered back to him.

By now, you might be wondering the same thing I was 2 miles into our ride.

What had gone wrong? Why was this traveling college math teacher in a wheelchair?

I wasn’t keeping track of the mileage, but I do know that 2 hours had gone by before we decided to stop to rest. It was then that I mustered up the courage to ask him about the accident.

It happened a year after my Europe trip, in 1971. I was graduating college in Minnesota, and a few of us were partying deep in the woods. Laughing, drinking, and jumping off a small cliff into the water were the activities running the show that night. I was one of the last to jump, unaware that the raft sitting on the water had shifted positions. I hit my head so hard that the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital

According to the kids who found him (15 minutes after the fall), there was no pulse. CPR and 45 minutes later (waiting for the EMTs), and Bill had had his whole life changed in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t until he regained consciousness that the doctors realized he had no feeling in his lower extremities.

I still have the travel bug though. I went back to Europe 8 years later and I sat in my chair observing travelers go about their way,” Bill continued, as if I wasn’t still processing Part I of that story.

I guess I have a tendency to ask myself the wrong questions sometimes. It wasn’t about why he was hurt, but, instead, why he was still alive? Why was he there on Saturday? Why was I his escort?

Bill, but how did you deal with it? I can’t imagine having my legs taken away from me,” I truly couldn’t stop asking him questions about his transition back into the world.

I remember looking out the window with frustration and seeing everyone doing the things I was once a part of, but then I remembered: I’m alive

Bill is fearless.


In the last couple of years, there has been a massive explosion of social media. For me, the fire started with an overabundance of daily Facebook friend requests (Yes, I guess you could say I thought I was a wee bit popular). Then the flames turned into the fascination of uploading photos.

You mean to tell me, that I can now SHOW people all the fun I have in my spare time?!

Abso.freakin.lutely. Sign me up! (I am still repairing that damage). Before I knew it, the bang had evolved into an unstoppable force in which EVERY move, EVERY outing, EVERY thought was out there, bombarding any individual with a News Feed and let’s just say I didn’t have the proper shield to protect me.

Needless to say, the aftershocks have created a whole new world of communication, and as I evolve into (brace yourselves!) a grownup, my body armor has gotten a few upgrades as well.

I have recently become fascinated with Twitter (I can blame Scott Stratten’s UnMarketing book for that one). I mean, seriously, am I hashtag postthe only one that thinks that “Trending Hashtags” are an intriguing concept? From #tornadoweek to #thingsyoushouldneversay , the possibilities are endless. The truth of the matter is that YOUR audience, solutions, and information are all just floating around this platform. We have given everyone an outlet to be heard, but frankly there are only a few listening.

Yes, I can write about how to make a blog entertaining or how to attract the right audience, but at the end of the day, people just want to be heard and consoled. Yeah, I said it. I don’t mean to get all sappy about Twitter here, but in just 15 minutes of hashtag research I was able to uncover very sad individuals. People who are in desperate need of comfort and certainty.  In a world where everything seems so big and sometimes, unreachable, there needs to be a voice of reason telling it like it is.

Any takers?

I am going to do an experiment. I will be following some of the major #hashtag trends for the next couple of weeks. Can a pattern be established? Are people predictable? Are the topics really trending? And most importantly, can one person build courage for those who can’t seem to find it?

Grab your armor everyone.