Leonor Henríquez

leer en español       I am referring to that other spelling and punctuation marks that have nothing to do with written language.The following reflection came to me while reading a mystery novel, “The Silent Patient” by Alex Michaelides.I must say that I devoured it, something that does not happen to me often.It is a psychological novel about a psychotherapist, an expert in non-verbal language, and his relationship with a patient, an artist, who refuses to speak after committing a crime.The book made me reflect on that other silent language that we all use intuitively and/or consciously.In my life, work and now retirement experience, as much as I have tried to put on what they call “poker face,” every cell of my being gives me away. On the other hand, those other silent punctuation marks wi...

leer en español        - Mom, what is the meaning of the word “home”? - my daughter asked while doing her first grade English homework.- “Hogar” in English is home, HOME. - I answered with a hint of impatience.More than thirty years have passed since that moment, and it is only today when I realized that my daughter's question - What is the meaning hogar/home? - regardless of the language, is not as obvious as I thought then.Many of us have left our homeland, we have seen our parents' houses disappear and we have had to reinvent our homes scattered around the world. Eleanor Catton, a New Zealand writer born in Canada, puts it very well:“If home cannot be where, one is from, it is what one makes of the place where one goes”.And it is not that easy.Anyway, I think I owe my daughter an apolog...

leer en español      Pablo Picasso once said: “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.”I remembered this phrase in connection with an activity we did as a family this New Year’s Eve.The butterfly landed on me with its transformative magic.They found me at the Dollarama store and excuse me for the prosaic start. There, for a very modest price, I bought fourteen wooden butterflies.Minutes before receiving the new year, I explained to the multi-generational group the activity in question. We would sit down to decorate the butterflies with our colorful wishes for 2025.That is when the metamorphosis occurred. For a few moments we were children again. We looked like a kindergarten classroom.Each one concentrated on their wishes and their butterflies, int...

leer en español        It is an invaluable resource in times when the excess of information or misinformation cancels any opinion one may have.It happens to me daily, no matter the topic, there will always be an app, guru, life coach or expert who knows more than anyone else.However, in order not to opt for silence, which they say grants, my philosophical “I think...” came to the rescue.I read it a while ago in Fernando Savater’s book “Questions for Life”, I went back to the book, knowing that I had surely highlighted it. In my search I came across Heidegger: “Why does something exist and not rather nothing?” (it reminded me of my three-year-old nephew Diego)I found it, the rationalist premise is this:“If I say I see a tree in front of me, I may be dreaming or being deceived by a mocking a...

leer en españolAmong my resolutions for 2025, two stand out: read more and drink less.The second is almost impossible, because no matter how much I tell myself that I'm only going to have my social or celebratory wine, in the end I find a reason to celebrate every day.Regarding my first resolution, I have already taken action.When I came to live in Canada in 2006, I brought my entire library. Among my old books, the collection of Classics of Universal Literature, which was published weekly by the newspaper El Nacional (back cover written by Salvador Garmendia), which I collected with devotion in my youth.In random order, I decided to read them again, some of which I think will be the first time, or rather never, as you will see below.The first one that fell on my hands was Hamlet by Willia...

leer en español       As we walked together to my car, she whispered to me:- I carry a love inside me.I thought to myself, “me too,” but I didn’t say anything so that I wouldn’t be seen talking to a flower.Her name is Amaryllis, it is a tropical bulb, native to South America and the Caribbean that blooms in the winter.Its stem is slender and its petals, in this case, are a sublime pink.We arrived home and I placed her in all its magnificence next to my window.Now in her place of honor Amaryllis, continued to whisper to me a story, or rather a poem. She told me this:I carry a love inside me.I can finally feel it today.From the darkness I have emerged,thanks to the soil,watered with kindness and gratitude.Today I shout it with my petalsopened to the wind.Life expands and continues.Today and ...