An ephemeral story

Ni Mali clung tightly to her mother Habiba’s skirt..

Dawn in Sidi Ifni and the sirocco had erased the predictable line of the horizon, turning the expected sky blue into an earthy red.

The fog was so thick that it was almost impossible to see the path..

Not even Mali hated getting up early. and even more so when she had to interrupt dreams that, for her, were of great importance.

that night He dreamed of the brown water at the mouth of the river, of Habiba and of his grandfather Rafael.who had died before she was born, just when the Spanish left the city, and of whom she had a photograph dressed as a military man safely kept inside a large square notebook with a drawing of a butterfly on the cover.

In the dream, Habiba washes the lower part of the djellaba that she is wearing. She does it without taking it off while Rafael looks at her attentively.

The only thing the mud does is dirty the djellaba more and morehigher and higher, no matter how much Habiba rubs frantically.

Rafael seems satisfiedalmost ready to applaud.

Then Habiba stops dead, looks at Ni Mali, and drops into the river like a ripe plum.

Even Mali runs to her mother while Rafael opens his arms smiling with the same face he has in the photograph.

Habiba sinks and for a few seconds You can only hear the sound of the water in the channel.

Ni Mali is on the shore and tries to look into the bottom, but everything is murky and He can only see his shadow trying to look in the background.

After a few seconds a white butterfly with brown spots emerges from the water of wild cat fluttering.

Not even Mali tries to catch her, but Just then her mother woke her up. I eat every day, except Mondays, to go pick the prickly pears from the cacti.

It had been his only way of life for a long time.

They walked quickly along the wall with a pair of blue plastic buckets that sometimes collided with a stone on the path.

In the distance you could hear the preparations for the caravan festival.

—Run, Ni Mali, we’re going to be late.

Ni Mali quickened her pace, trying to take bigger strides with her tiny feet.

Habiba started coughing quite hard and took out a handkerchief without slowing down.

—Damn dust.

Not even Mali saw a small blood stain on the handkerchief. before his mother put him back in the pocket of the djellaba.

—What are you doing, Ni Mali? —Habiba asked, somewhat desperate, looking at how her daughter had stopped dead.

The girl had left the bucket on the floor and I was in front of a cactus that was at least three heads taller than him.

«Look how pretty,» he said, pointing to the center of the plant.

There, among hundreds of challenging peaks, a fuchsia flower stood out with endive-shaped petals.

Ni Mali was already trying to pluck it when Habiba gently stopped her with her hand.

Neither Mali looked at her mother upset.

—Let me take it! It’s for you!

Habiba cradled her daughter with a smile.

—Thank you, Ni Mali. I don’t want her. Do you know that cactus flowers are ephemeral?

Not even Mali shook his head.

—Do you know what ephemera is?

Nor Mali denied again, repeating exactly the previous movement.

—Ephemeral is that it only lasts a day. The flower was born today and will die today.

Neither Mali looked back at the flower that now seemed much more important to her, almost like her dreams.

—Well then, If she’s going to die anyway, we can take her. If you don’t want it, we’ll put it in the notebook next to Grandpa’s photo so it can dry,» Ni Mali said, trying to convince her mother.

No, not even Mali. The flower is from the plant. Don’t you see all the spikes it has? How green is it? And now, today, it has something beautiful. Would you have stopped to look at it if it didn’t have the flower?

Ni Mali looked at the hundreds of similar cacti around.

—So we have to leave it to him because it’s the only nice thing he has?

That’s right, not even Mali. Besides, ephemeral things are the most beautiful —Habiba said, caressing her daughter’s forehead.

They picked up the buckets and two hundred meters away the rest of the women and girls with whom they were going to share the daily work were waiting for them.

Just before arriving, Habiba crouched down to her daughter’s ear.

—Not even Mali, my beautiful girl, we are all a flower. We are all ephemeral. Grandpa was. I am too. Don’t ever let anyone take you away, because all the time we have is today. and because you are pretty, even though peaks surround you, and you will always, always, be worthy of admiration.

Ni Mali then looked into her bucket and there was the white butterfly with brown wildcat spots.

Just fluttering around.

I didn’t tell you so as not to hurt you

Joshua Ness – Unsplash

Silvia and Max had been together for a while enjoying the first coffee in the morning.

Despite the haste with which Silvia had asked him to meet, Max was in no hurry to find out what was wrong. Whenever she wanted, she would tell him.

After half an hour of animated talk, Silvia told him:
—Max, Friday was my last day of work.
—What happened?
—My boss doesn’t like how I do things. He thinks I’m too aggressive with clients and, from the looks of it, has had some complaints. He invited me to leave…

—And how are you now?
—Bewilderedthe truth is, because the dismissal It caught me off guard…
—Did you know what I thought of you?
—No, but others did know. My partner Ruth told me that he had mentioned it to her a couple of times, but that She hadn’t told me so as not to hurt me.

—And how do you feel knowing this?
—Well, bad. I can’t help but think it would have helped me to know that. I could have rectified, done things differently and perhaps I would have redirected the situation. But I also understand it…
—What do you understand?
—Don’t tell me… Deep down, I also function like this, I keep quiet depending on what things so as not to hurt others…

Max got up. He ceremoniously walked to the kitchen and returned with his cup of coffee. The conversation was going to drag on.
—Sylvia, We cannot change the situation, but we can learn from it. Now you’ve felt firsthand how little it helped you when someone who cares about you didn’t tell you something you needed to know. Surely you don’t want that this happens to someone you appreciatethat cannot have valuable information just because you are afraid to offer it.

Silvia showed confusion on her face, so Max hastened to add:
—For example, if someone around us has self-destructive behavior, opting for passivity and not telling them is not a good idea. We cannot close our eyes when we see someone we care about walking towards the precipice.

Silvia recognized herself perfectly in the behavior that Max described.
—Often, as it is difficult for us to say, When we finally gather the courage and do it, we fall into the other extreme: aggressiveness. We say things in a violent way, making him feel bad.
-And then?

When expressing something that is uncomfortable for us, it is advisable to do so with respect and consideration; without judging and weighing, at all times, the other’s predisposition to listen to us.

—Between passivity and aggressiveness there is a way: assertiveness. The ability to not stop saying things, but do it in a way that helps, that our message does not hurt but moves to be heard. Let our interlocutor not be closed off, but quite the opposite.
—And how is it achieved?
—We must be very careful how we say itbeing very careful that the other does not feel attacked.

Max’s words were getting through to Silvia, who was listening attentively.

—When a person feels hurt, they stop listening.Everything we say will fall on deaf ears and will be of no use. Maybe we can stay calm, since we have told you everything; but it won’t help the other. That’s why we must be especially sensitive to all the signs that indicate to us that we are exceeding the level that the other can endure.

—And where do we find these signs?
—In the expression, in the look, in the reaction to questions… You will know how to capture them, don’t hesitate. Only It is about observing the other carefully.

Silvia was convinced. Max’s words made all the sense in the world. Thinking again about what had happened to him on Friday, he said to Max:
—Max, I have it very clear. And I am also clear that Ruth would really benefit from knowing your theory. How about I tell it to you?

Max, quick in his reaction, responded:
—How do you feel about the idea of ​​telling him?
-Phew! I’m scared of it. I don’t know if you will understand…
—Well, you should know that this fear you feel It can take you away from assertiveness.
—And what do I do, then? Should I keep it quiet?
—No, but First you have to overcome this fear. Convince yourself that you are doing what is best for her, and anticipate that she may have a negative reaction at first. When you feel ready, it will be time to tell him.

Silvia said goodbye to Max. The next morning, Max received a brief message. It said: “I have spoken to Ruth. It has not been a bed of roses; When we said goodbye, he thanked me”.

How to say what you think without causing harm

• If you see that I behave in a way that is going to harm me, Don’t stop telling me. But do it so that it doesn’t hurt me and may perceive it as help.
• At the right time: when you see me readynot just when you’ve mustered up the courage to tell me.
• In the right tone: without aggression, without scolding me, without judging me.
• It is very possible that it will show me very sensitiveand I need you to be that in the way you speak to me.
• At the right pace: If I can’t absorb it all today, we’ll continue tomorrow. Leisurely.
• Accepting myself in my behavior: because I can only change if I decide to. And I will only decide if I feel accepted.
• AND always from love and appreciationnot from censorship or the intention of teaching me a lesson.

And what would you do?

Carolina was walking the dog through a park with his daughter Alba. They had not seen each other for a few weeks, and the meeting had been Alba’s initiative, who wanted her mother’s advice on a matter that worried her.

While the dog played with other dogs, they sat on a bench to talk. Alba explained to her mother about a monumental hookup she had had with Iñaki, a co-worker. He ended up asking him:

—What would you do?

His mother didn’t think twice. He answered:

—Call him, and do it now.

—But what do I tell him?

—First of all, you apologize. And he should apologize too.

—Yeah… but are you sure? Wouldn’t you let a little time pass?

—Don’t think about it. Do exactly what I tell you. It always works.

Alba meditated on her mother’s advice. After a moment, he said:

—Okay, I’m going to do what you tell me, although I’m not convinced. one hundred percent. I leave you, the children are waiting for me. Thanks for your advice. I hope it works for me…

Carolina sat on the bench, and suddenly she heard a voice next to her saying:

—What if it doesn’t work?

Puzzled, she looked in the direction of the voice’s origin and met the gaze of an endearing older man. Tempted to get up and disappear, her curiosity got the better of her logic, so she remained seated and continued the dialogue:

—What is this question about?

—Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Max. I couldn’t help…