Hustle and Flow

“I have nothing left…please make it stop, God,” I said, draped over the toilet bowl like an overused rag. It was the seventh hour of my body’s seemingly “physical release ritual,” releasing me of the dinner I ate at my mom’s house as I laughed with my family, the tons of water and two glasses of red wine I drank that night, and eventually attempting to empty me of my own gastric acid.

I suffered quietly so I didn’t wake Hewy and Ava Luna who had a full Monday ahead, but I eventually had to crawl into our bedroom and ask him to run to the bodega and get me some Pedialyte. Thank God for bodegas at 3 AM when you feel like you’re going to die.

He brought an orange bottle home a few minutes later. I drank it, but couldn’t keep that down either.

An entire school days’ worth of being rung out of all bodily fluids, a relentless 102-degree fever, extreme dehydration, and exhaustion resulted in two trips to the emergency room.

Where is the lesson here, Melanie? Don’t worry – I asked myself this too. Not days later as I scribbled on pieces of paper in anger because the Universe had failed, but right in the heap of it.

I don’t let myself go down the path that leads me to believe I’m doomed, or that something bad was happening to me because my life is horrible, if not always then even just for that moment, terrible and irreversible. I’ve done the work. I’ve reprogrammed my mind. I knew that all of this – the sudden illness, the emergency room, the maxing out of my sick days – it was all part of this chapter of my grand story; a story that later introduces me sitting on my own private beach with my husband and kids laughing in the background in another chapter.

So what’s the meaning of all this turmoil? Let’s backtrack to the weekend before all this shit went down.

Hewy and I spent all of Saturday and the better part of Sunday deep cleaning and “despojando la casa.” (More about despojos here.) We filmed the whole thing for my YouTube channel. It was amazing. I almost don’t know if it was the Starbucks we had that gave us the energy to clean for 14 hours one day and 3 hours the next, or the need for a clean and clear environment – aka not having to push over clothes, toys and bags to walk from the kitchen to the bathroom.

We picked up all the stuff we had lying around the apartment, put the things we wanted to keep away, packed up the things that no longer served us to give away, and scrubbed everything in sight. It was a glorious dance with the broom, mop, and Comet can until we switched them for the spiritual cleansing tools.

I wedged out the stagnant, negative energy in the crevices of the walls and wrapped it in white sage smoke, and then prayed for the reintroduction of positive, blessed energy as I let the palo santo smoke dance through the corridors of our nest.

I knew I was on camera, so I made it count. I wanted to connect so strongly and release so intently that whoever watched the video could see me glow in 1080P.

We did it. Crib spotless. While caring for a sick 10-month-old and filming a video at that. Cause for celebration of course. We head to my parent’s house for an impromptu Sunday evening cookout. Nothing big, but there was big time love and big time laughs present. It was a great time…and then I was slapped with a nausea, migraine, dizziness combo that almost took me out before I could sit down.

Fast forward.

I don’t do the whole “post your hospital bracelet on social media” thing because I don’t think it serves an actual purpose if it’s combined with the usual Drake quote and/or a sick face emoji, but I did want to write about my experience once I had digested it.

Have I digested it? To the most of my ability.

Do I think it's a coincidence that I put my all into a two-day despojo to release clutter and negativity from my home and then my body decided to seemingly do the same? I don't believe in coincidences. But all in all, I think the meaning of all of this is layered – some parts patience, some parts gratitude over fear, some parts strength, and most parts trust. These are all aspects of myself that I have been struggling with lately, so naturally, a massive test of all these things comes along to remind me of who the fuck I am and who the fuck I serve.

melanie santos hustle and flow of Spirit Universal Trust

As if I've fallen backwards into a pool trusting that the water will hold and not suffocate me, I surrender to God's plan.

I am Melanie Santos, and I serve an omnipotent, infinitely abundant, just, loving all-powerful Creator whose spirit I fill myself with more and more on my journey. As if I've fallen backwards into a pool trusting that the water will hold and not suffocate me,  I surrender to God's plan. I trust that the Universe is always listening to my prayers and watching my intentions, and conspiring to bring me closer to my highest and best self.

I don’t hustle the flow of Spirit, I trust it.

I almost didn't share this, but I got a few clear-as-day signs that I needed to. I hope you adopt this mantra and surrender to God's plan for you, too. Before I came back to my laptop to publish this post, God showed me the message "Today is only today" on someone's graphic t-shirt, and then had a homeless man scream, "DID YOU SEE IT?" at me a minute later. I deduced that I was meant to wrap this up with it:

Today is only today. You have thousands of tomorrows to trust, love, and flow with. If you want to become, you have to believe and behave first. Make your decision. The Universe is listening.