The Park…

Reading academic work that is potentially going to be examined off you can be lethally boring, so boring in fact that some sites, like this one here thrive on the ups and downs of said moments. So it was, that on a certain particularly charming Autumn afternoon, i found myself enthralled in the binds and folds of my uni paper work. i woke up at around 10am, i know, sehr sehr lazy, bad me! In my defense however, i went to bed at past 4 {A.M ofcos, what are you thinking?!?!}, had a sumptuous breakfast, see, i was bought this awesome cereal, crunchy with bits of dried strawberries and a cinnamon and raisin bagel, yum! i sat and watched something on tv, can’t remember what, thought about the reading and promptly lulled myself back to sleep instead of planned shower, only to wake up {finally, … at 12! its not even funny!}, had said shower and managed to drag myself off to go a-reading!

Because libraries tend to be dingy, dull, studious and generally depressive, i chose to go to Queens park, about 15 minutes walking distance from my place. It was warm and the idea of sitting in the grass watching toddlers play in the play area, teenagers lounge around, kicking a ball here and there, whilst the old couple walked gingerly past seemed endlessly inspiring! Just a little before 2 pm, I was nicely settled in. I found a little patch of  grass with the ultimately most optimizing view; read… i could see the teens, the toddlers and their flustered minders, and to even it out, i could see the pond too, with its few birds swooning in and away. At the far right hand side, i could see the museum, whilst to my right was the ever-so-enticing ice-cream van! I debated getting some then, but seeing as i wasn’t yet  hungry, i promised myself a cone upon finishing the second paper on my list and head phones firmly plugged and set, lovely Joshua Radin music playing, i set out to do the inevitable.

Now here exists my conundrum, for me to maximize my output, its imperative that i have no outstanding business matters and chores that might get in the way, interfering with my flow. Also, i have a somewhat intricate balancing act with my mum at the moment, she is on a mission to ensure that i finish Uni on time, and to do this, she believes in checking up on me every so often, which means that everyday, we talk or chat, sometimes a couple of times, and it is only fitting i thought, to do this before i really got in the thick of things and could not pull away, which might inadvertently inducing worrying, which would require yet more time to diffuse, and whilst i was talking to her, might as well clean house, you know, get rid of emails, and well, … emails. ofcos plus the occasional general browsing. Today’s agenda being a phone. I need to upgrade my entirely too moody one, it has its own system of work ethics that completely ignore mine, often translating to, me missing calls and texts and occasionally randomly running out of charge, plus, i have no idea how to transfer the fotos from its memory to anyone/anything. The Bluetooth function is dodgy and the camera settings are worrisome, they take too big fotos to be sent via text or multi media, and refuse to adjust down, TSK!

So it was that i found myself, {after my très importante call, and trashed emails} googling phones, their specifications, costs,  reputation Et cetera, Et cetera, and WOW! sooooooooo many phones out there in the market, it took me about an hour just to go through the options for good camera phones, and the list that selected the good reception one was just about scary, i ignored that for a while and decided to explore the battery life, memory, resolution, user friendliness, and all this before i even considered options outside of calling and texting. So when i moved on to internet connection and was introduced to the concept of android, i just about exhaled, a little out of breath from the sheer myriad of possibilities. i felt my head spin once, then i looked at the volumes of available apps, some i did not even realize existed or dare conceive their applicability and then it was not just one, but a complete couple of cycles of proper head spinning as all thought process became a jumbled mess of gadgety-images!

I went looking for a simple gadget, somewhat ignorant to the time past and research and technology that has since the second world war transformed public switched telephone systems to radio transceivers and on to today’s cellular technology and microprocessor control systems that enable automatic and intimately pervasive use of mobile phones for both voice and data. whilst before, all we could store were numbers in a pretty limited scroll down list, today, when we add someone into our little pocket mini computers, we have the option to include their entire bio specs. Mobile number and name no longer deemed enough, we can add, their home, office,alternate numbers, their full physical address, dates of note like birthdays and anniversaries, employment details, car registration, email address, multiple emails, web sites…and all this pertaining to just the one individual, and to top it up, we also put a photo ID, just incase… and when we don’t feel like communicating, we can choose to shop online, listen to music, watch / listen to world news, take photos, edit photos, publish photos, and then check that the money received has indeed gone to the right accounts, again, online! We can make videos, watch movies, play games, competitively play games, record conversations, ours and others’…there is just soooooo much that one small contraption can do! its crazy in its genius, and a little sadly so too.

For further reach, with all this information about people, we are no longer limited to just calling them, we can chat, text, email, video call…or comment on their web sites and blog pages…all from the comforts of our homes, cars, offices, anywhere, even in the cafes. So in the quest to make the globe a real village where time and space are no longer limiting constraints on how we interact, i wondered, looking around me, where did the days of just sitting in the park and absorbing the grand designs of nature go? when did we become so self-absorbed and snobbish that the guy sitting next to me, massive ear phones firmly cupping his scalp and deafening music playing from his iPod all but faded into non-existence?  ofcos i caught the irony of it all with me and my ear-phones too, marveling at the wonder of how technology that is essentially created on the concept of enabling people to reach out more to one another, make communication a lot easier and efficient has instead also encouraged self-sustaining individualism.

Though by making the world a global village, one would assume travelling is made easier, resources more flexible and transferable, it also means that if i wanted, i did not really have to leave my home to do anything. I could earn an online degree, video call all my friends, shop online as far and wide as i please, and better yet, bring entertainment right to me, heck, if i so desired, i may never leave the house, even mega retailers conspire to make us lazy and agoraphobic, i can order salmon online, vegetables, all kinds of necessities and, save money, seeing as there is no point shopping for clothes, shoes etc if i wont wear them out to anywhere, and if i really explore that line, might as well not invest in luxuries such as perfumes, make up… and then where shall we end up? It’s a scary thought that! so in an attempt not to further support this degenerative behavior, i  pondered my options, see,i really like Joshua Radin, so shall i unplug my head set and bombard fellow park goers with music, and hope they too enjoy it? fearing that i might get arrested for public disturbance, i shelf’d that idea quick, and next on the list was packing up my laptop all together and people-watching. the problem with this one is, people watching has ceased to be as entertaining, everyone is engrossed in their own world, no one is interacting with nature, other humans anymore, and to ensure they remain in and within their own little cocoons, they too are lost in the contraptions of technology bursting gadgets they carry with them. What point is there in going to the park, and then spending the entire time on your laptop blogging about being in the park, isn’t it rather redundant? Shouldn’t we perhaps first enjoy the park and then blog about it? And maybe in the process, heighten and enhance our social skills?

                                    

Then again, this was me finding a justifiable reason for my rather obvious procrastination issues, and by the time my mind kicked in and reminded me i was finding reason to be on my laptop and not focus on my uni work, time had really flown, it was almost 5pm and the day was nearing a close. ice cream long forgotten, decision on which phone to get not nearly reached and Uni work sadly neglected, i left the park that i never really visited, shaking my head at the irony of  puzzling over soo many decisions, yet making no real progress in any productive direction, save for the fact that, i have officially decided that:

I will be a public nuisance, i will NOT carry my laptop to cafes, instead i will meet with friends and strangers there, and actually talk to them,

I will walk and take rests in parks, i will actually lie flat on my back on the lush grass and watch clouds pass by, birds fly by and hopefully manage to miss my open mouth when they poop, i will enjoy the parks by scream!

I will find a phone that simplifies matters and doesn’t make me feel like am an undercover agent when i meet new people and i require their details so i can keep in-touch,

I will visit the library, {okay, maybe not that one} but i will definitely go to the office when work calls.

Also, when procrastinating, i will do something fun, not something that instead raises more questions, and paints the world into a sad society whose technical feats and accomplishments seem degenerative instead of progressive.

Croissants, baguettes n oh yes, Seas n Mountains!

So a couple of days ago, we were in the bank and I pick up this random magazine, flicking through the pages to while away the queue, there is always a wait period in the banks, {makes you want to get rich and migrate to those banks that wait on you in clicking china and impeccable smiles, whilst you are surrounded by discreetly quiet surroundings, no?}, anyway, am flicking through this magazine and this article jumps out at me!

*screeeeeeeech!, okay, no screeching, but still, the article says that maybe couples shouldn’t plan holidays together, errrrm…, interesting one that. Given I was days away from one such holiday myself. So I read on and it informs on among others in a long list, the dangers of differing preferences and the strain they can put on a relationship. Ofcos am quick to laugh it off, I jump to the conclusion that no way, holidays are divine and all couples should definitely plan some together. In my mind, whilst a bar crawl might seem a little appealing to some guys {and I say this with full knowledge that I think such guys might be wanting}, a full day in the spa will surely win in any contest, better yet, a walk about in the museums, a hike up some hills and through some woods, etc will definitely ignite anyone’s sense of adventure and wonderment and incite that urge to skip drinking all night and sleeping all day kind of will. Besides, everyone knows that right? So how can anyone disagree to the point of ruining a perfectly good relationship over fun times while away?

And then the trip came!

First, I want to assure you that yes, I still definitely subscribe to the idea that ALL couples should plan holidays together, as long as said couples listen to the females in the equation, ofcos. No, am not being sexiest. In addition, said male was absolutely sublime! Plus i did listen, … mostly. 🙂

Okay, now that that has been cleared, let me gush about this beautiful booooooootiful little country called France! Where to start? There is so much to say, maybe the most obvious … the landscapes! We drove across the country from Dunkirk, taking the toll routes past Paris, and still further via Lyon and ended up in Roquebrune-sur-Argens. The drive immediately confirmed that little is the furthest impression you get whilst in this country, it feels vast and expansive, never ending, adorned with numerous numerous mountains! Everywhere we drove there were mountains, lush foresty ones and bare rocky ones. For added effects, there were the additional ever present hills, many many many hills, red hills, white hills, green ones, falling-rocks-ones, flat topped, spiked, domed, all kinds of hills. All around us were huge protruding chunks of land, giving the oddly encompassing feeling of being fully welcomed into the country. It’s like we were enclosed within its very centre, requiring and beseeching us to stay, look around, enjoy and feel at home, safe and protected from the unknowns beyond the horizons.

And then, before one could feel claustrophobic, the scene dramatically changes and you are faced with miles and miles of shimmering clear blue sea! With sandy and pebbly beaches, rocky cliff sides that make for spectacular view points, and dotted villas and chateaus all round the coast line, one gets the distinct feeling of a freedom that can only be French in nature. And before you know what hit you, whilst in these beaches, previously closely held inhibitions drop, fast too. Now here is the thing that’s cruelly unfair, while your inhibitions drop, you also notice just how the French seem to simply be beautiful, sexy, lean, tanned, toned, and immediately, all the delicately, in-mouth-melting-delicious croissants, pain au chocolats, and other pastries you luxuriously enjoyed over breakfast, and then again over brunch, and were probably thinking about for lunch too, start knocking about guiltily, but the sea is so beautiful and the sand so inviting, you quickly forget and indulge.

Letting your desires lead you, it was brilliantly magical, breath taking, and you just want to stop and breathe in, absorb everything around you and just gaze as far as the eyes could see, silently, and with a conscious effort to have your mouth closed too, for the most part anyway, especially if your sunhat is not very big.

J Really, yes, its pure cliché, but the boulangeries are everywhere! And yes, so are the pharmacies, it is incredible. The soil is whitish, like a sandy loam or chalky clay, and the stones are so beautiful, naturally white washed, the architecture varies from scene to scene, from Romanesque, to medieval, ofcos covering the French renaissance and on to contemporary and modernist, and every structure exudes some uniqueness to it. It’s a beautiful infusion of new into old that works in a quirky way. The villages are very cosy, almost steadfastly holding on to their ancient pasts, refusing to let  the influx of globalisation and a necessary expansion as populations grow and develop take over, and in places, you still find yourself driving on cobble stones, in two way roads that are bout the width of an ultra modern 4by4, {really ultra modern, u know the sleek curvy ones, not the old boxy ones that could house the entire village, yes, some roads are dangerously narrow}, with amazingly tight twists and turns, it’s crazy, and exhilarating!

And then just when you think it can’t get better,  you pass by acres and acres of vine yards, corn farms, sunflowers, it’s almost like the country is inherently telling you to come dine, drink and enjoy all that is beautiful there-in. You itch to stop and wander off into some random vine yard and pick your fill of all the grapes that hung so ripe, so low, sooo very ready for picking, but in a decently refrained way, manage to steer clear of this rather un-cultured way of getting a taste and eventually find yourself knocking on the gates of said vineyards and wineries and politely requesting a guide through and if you are lucky, you come off with more than your average share of wine making mastery, free tastings and delicious authentic bottles of real French wine. *ah! The bliss!*

Now here is another great thing about France, Monaco is right up the coast! Cue …  *high pitched and unintelligible sounds!* As someone special put it, ‘for those who love being in the presence of affluence’ and inordinate amounts of wealth, this is a haven! Instead, I settled for conspicuous numbers of photos and a vaguely obvious mental note, ‘MAKE WEALTH’, {see we noted that Barclays bank refuses to deal with anything less}, cue … *more unintelligible sounds*.  While there, we had a tour and a history narrative, and for a little while I wished I was passionate about cars and high speed races that defy logical stretches of safety, then I remembered I like living just fine and resorted to shamelessly gaping at the architectural marvels, every now and then letting a *sigh here and a *gasp there, {and checking I wasn’t showing all my teeth in between ofcos}. The best part for me were all the mountains that we drove through, tunnel after tunnel after tunnel dug through solid rock, and then all the ones we drove past. Eventually, speechless and thoroughly happy with my French tours, and another very huge capitalized, italicized, underlined and boldened note to self, ‘GO BACK, SEE MORE!’ I left the borders.

I struggle wondering what the limits of blatant wastefulness are in respect to ordering fresh croissants flown in every morning? Or maybe I should consider recruiting a French Chef for breakfast instead? {Well, not now ofcos, after the wealth making part is done…} Ofcos am still amassing countries, cultures, architectural wonders and marvels, cuisines that leave you drooling for more long after you collapsed from over-fill, to add to my own list of ‘The Incredibles!’

voyage suivant…

New beginings

Notice the way with the approach of summer, even with days getting longer and longer, the hours just seemed to rush by, and 13 – 15 hours hours of daylight didn’t seem nearly enough, a week suddenly seemed way too short and months came and went and suddenly leaves were not green anymore, earth colors changed and before you could say shoots, the season has changed and Voila!

You realize haltingly, that the year too is coming to a close, autumn is here and winter is all but sneaking up on you. Ofcos with it come the countless festivities, Christmas, new years, and many many more! And the cycle continues, new life is born, some life is lost, and if i get really technical about it, some even becomes distinctly extinct with each passing day.

A while back, no really, a really long while back, i sat down and analyzed my path, what I had set out to achieve, what i had succeeded in achieving, what i had failed at, how my path panned out and detoured at different times, how the new paths traveled, and wondered if it was worth coming up with a new plan, or i should just buckle-up, pack up the lessons learnt along the way, discard the misconceptions previously weighing me down and  quicken my steps with the new finds i discovered, and … i chose the latter. I realized plans are all good and dandy until you hit a fork in the road and you have to make a choice, for without that, then you stagnate at a single point, and worse than that, the only safe option is to go back, retracing steps previously made in the mistaken impression of safety in the familiar.

A completely redundant move if one were to hope to move forward or progress in anyway whatsoever. By clinging on to my plans, i realized that i often got stumped at crossroads, and boy, are those plenty in this journey called life, finding myself stuck in the hilt of a series of impossible choices, debating, shall i go forth, shall i go left, right, which choice is the best? Now, one would think that by leaning on the experiences of previous persons {bright light ding!*, right?}, the information gleaned would serve as a caution and a preamble that would make the choices less daunting, helping make better decisions whilst choosing a path right?

No. Unfortunately, each person has a different take on everything, no matter how similar the experience seems to be, they are distinctly perceived and internalized differently, so whilst one surfer might prefer to ride the waves whilst staying low on the board and riding in the center of the wake to achieve speed, some simply prefer to resort to the Eskimo roll, paddling away to the depths of the sea where the waves are highest and you need not work up your own steam as this is already imminent. By default then, it is up-to you, your skill, agility and dexterity to decide which move is the best, which path suits and stretches your abilities in the most efficient and effective manner for optimum results, implying rhetorically that the decision really still lies with you.  Ofcos this is assuming no external influence. Still, as attaining knowledge always is, it really doesn’t end. There is no halt to the need for these ‘this or that’ decisions.

Meanwhile, every turn in the road affords a new possibility, new options, different struggles, varying limits, and with time, one becomes a seasoned chooser. Unfortunately, this by no means diminishes the potentiality of getting stumped all over again. *sigh…on the bright side however,…:P

The seasons are changing yet again, everything is changing around and especially within me. Am growing {literally, as in age and numbers-wise} and hopefully getting wiser too. I know I am definitely adding to the stack of decisions made here and there that characteristically shape the futures before me. I have also come to accept that everything happens in its time and place and often fate is without our immediate control, but that we definitely have a hand in defining our destinies. Hence it is with renewed resolve and the inspiring scents and wonders of the new season flitting by and into this new {almost new} month, and with an all new heart I wear, that I am determined to soar and shine through this particular stretch of life with as few bumps in the road as possible, for me and my fellow travelers. My destination, I have always known, is damn important, there is no loosing sight of that, fortunately, I am now also a keen believer in the theory that, so is the journey. With the coming winter months ahead, I foresee loads of sparkle, loads of warmth and laughter, and if I go to the mirror, close my eyes for a resigned moment and open them, the sadness their lasts for just but a millisecond and then as i breathe in and look deeper, I see the remnants of hope, and I see that all i need is a little rekindling magic, that not all is lost, and my skin bristles with enchanted excitement, and I feel and inherently know it’s going to be a brilliant new beginning!

…I want it too much for anything but.

I feel…

{Written before the incident with Titani, she will be missed.}

Maybe i should hear instead…the truth is a terrible thing to behold, we say we want to hear it, often we get our senses in a twist when faced with the possibility of anything but. Only to turn around, literally flee from it and at best, actively refrain from listening when it is served, pretty bound in ribbons or cold and clean-cut. Either way, it puts new meaning to humbled-by-the-word, to hear, listen and gain from truths told to us. It is with this recent enlightenment that I have begun to think that maybe I should finally give in and come to terms with the painful reality that there is no ‘how-to’ book on how to get through pain. Pain, be it; physical, emotional, spiritual, imagined, real, sought, stumbled-upon, short-lived, long-suffered, dull, sharp, etc … is simply, as I remember not to long hearing from a certain incredible someone, a reflection of perceived wrongs. The mind tells us what is painful and what is not. Because pain is seemingly universal, and as such, a definitely appropriate portal through which to study man; his experienced exposure, civilization, and socialization, stretch and limits, we often mistakenly also assume that everyone can relate to what we feel, forgetting it’s uncanny uniqueness. Someone mentioned that different people deal/experience pain differently, {remember the part about me hearing and learning to listen too?…}, it is a callous misconception on my part thus to imagine that an event, experienced by both of us will affect us in distinctly similar ways. Unfortunately, pain just like love, transcends every plane of existence, bridging the gaps between subliminal and supraliminal, engulfing us entirely so that we often believe in it with every fiber of our beings, most often against our own sets of better judgment. For this reason, a marginally painful experience might seem all the more unbearable when perceived by differently socialized and contextualized individuals. It is no lie that mankind is enslaved by our own emotions, and it is no help that the strongest emotion is love…

almost ridiculously necessitating that we are oft doomed to fall prey of its harp strings, cutting at our hearts and ripping our insides apart.

Begging the question, why is something so defined to embody all that is good and supreme capable of such troubling effects? Yet still beyond all logic and above it, rules of cause and effect cease, as it is a cause and effect in and on its own.

Love. TSK!

A confusing  state that. In a quest to find the meaning of it all, TIME magazine stumbled upon reasons why scientists steer clear of such mushy research until recently, yet still, the question remained fuzzy and uncannily unclear. I know that romantic love can be strong and overbearing, especially if you happen to have one of said types of love, and so are brotherly love and platonic affections, yet, now, I feel that maternal love has surely got to be the strongest. Everything else pales in comparison. It feels like I could loose everything I own, little and big, precious and unique, cheap or priceless, and the feeling of loss / the pain of these, would barely compare to the pain of loosing a child, planned or otherwise. It’s almost as if they come with an in built love and cherish command.

That loss is terrible, downright cruel and agonizing, and sometimes, the pain is so acute, feels like your entire body is on fire. How do you explain this to anyone, how do you compare this pain to any other pain, what yard stick would you reference? It is raw, it is searing, it is prolonged and it runs deep. It drains, exhausts, and completely engulfs you. Very little else seems to matter, make sense, measure up. Nothing seems half as bad, nor worth the trouble. The tears never stop running, always welling at the back of your eyes, a whiff of baby powder,  an infant’s giggles and chuckles, anything, even a misplaced word, push the trigger and suddenly you can’t stop yourself from tearing. Everything suddenly transforms into a very painful alarm clock, never quitre letting you forget even for a second. Necessitating an awkward display of confusion when you have to find a reason why, when asked.

*sigh. Pain. How do you get over it? Even worse is the numbing realization that …

Of…

Three things jump to mind when i think of him,

The smile: Ahh, the bliss and tenderness that magically overwhelms me when he smiles, his lips part and his whole face beams, a wondrous transformation that’s made all the more incredulous when that smile speeds up along his jawline and across his brow, seductively seeping into his eyes. Its a beautiful smile, it’s the promise of a kiss that will no doubt reduce steady knees to mush, its the door way to a whisper that caresses the back of my neck and turns me goosed.  Its a wholesome smile, a pleasure to behold.

The scent: musky, masculine no end, a unique brand that only he could flourish in, i want to cuddle close and inhale deeply, and then hold my breath for a moment longer, try and imprint it in my memory, a tireless act since i could track his smell any and everywhere. it is potently overpowering, it is wholesomely his, encompassing, drawing me near, leaving traces of himself on me in the aftermaths of an embrace, long / short matters not, for his scent lingers and lingers and trails eons after the fact.

The soul: for a long time, people just were, with him, i have found out that souls do exist, they hover, they threaten to depart, and then they sit still and deeply inspire, refusing to let us give up, refusing to be separated from our otherwise mundane ways of existence. A soul co-ordinates the delicate balance that encourages us to live, to truly live.  His soul has shown me that mine is worth saving.

When our paths cross again, i shall be sure to mention these, i shall be sure to say thank you, for without him, cuddles had ceased being so cuddly, smiles had ceased creeping into the voids in my heart that have the ability to glow, and existence was just that, barely living.

🙂

Shrinking!

Don’t you just hate it when questions are answered back with yet more questions? for example, shrinks!!!!! what is it with trying to get you to unveil answers from yourself when in the first place you go to them in search of said answers? if you did know all along the answers to said questions, isn’t quiet and peace all you would need to reach within yourself and see what you have been searching for all the while?

today I was asked by one of said shrinks, what characteristic I hate most in others, and i had a whole line up of them,, thing is, I couldn’t quite rate them in order of preference, for example, did I hate liars any more than I hated rapists? did I find unreliability as irritating and offensive as I found cowardice? better yet, if I had to choose between a dishonorable person and a murderer, whom would I pick first?

I couldn’t choose which trait i hated worse, so he asked me, what trait I found myself most unwilling to indulge in…*Gasp, taken a back, I wondered … was he asking me if i would prefer to take a knife and stab someone better than sleeping with my best friend’s husband? or did I prefer stealing to lying? in the list of all mortal crimes, which would I willingly indulge-in in order of least disgust with myself?

and after a long moment of deep and intense thought, where lets face it, that’s all good money wasted on minutes unspent towards the supposed end vision of clearing my mind of foggy cobwebs and clutter, I sighed and replied, ‘I loathe selfishness most’. This came out so unexpectedly and so anticlimactically that it seemed I had known this all along, yet, the surprise that came over his face must surely have mirrored the same look I had on mine.

‘excuse me?’ he whispered, a little like he was afraid i had answered the wrong question, perhaps wishing me to further elaborate on it, … a little reflection later just so it seemed like i was really putting thought into it, I confirmed that yes, ‘selfishness’ is the one trait in mankind I hate/dislike the most. selfishness leads us to steal, covet and commit adultery, kill, etc, it’s an act often borne of a need for self-preservation that is skewed and stretched to its ugly ends. by being selfish, we often become cowards, afraid to stand up for our beliefs in fear of what others might think of us, we are afraid to do the right thing for fear of tarnishing whatever image we hold {and in most cases, believe others hold} of us, selfishness breeds greed, greed leads to petty crimes such as theft, and yet more gruesome ones such as rape, murder etc… in a capsule,selfishness, often simply means that we are mean and lack a kind heart that embodies a giving nature.

Often, I have realized, selfishness carries with it a certain kind of stigma. its like people realize its unfashionable to be selfish, compelling such persons to be careful to seem giving, thus they often splurge on grandeur and will seek gratification in others noticing how much they gave, which also unfortunately means that they are less want to appreciate simple gestures such as the joy and inclusiveness of eating together. the downside is, as our instincts instruct us to cling to what is on our plates, we miss the opportunity to sample out what else is on offer. but is this really true? this article suggests that as biological organisms, we are ALL selfish, yes, even the more altruistic of all, it’s just the degree to which we are willing to pay the cost that differs.

thus then, it can be inferred that selfishness is either one of near-sighted or far-sighted, and none is inclusive, and today, as i sat on that couch, my answer to what I find most distasteful in humanity was selfishness. so I looked at what others think to be selfish and came across this list here…

*sigh, not really the grand gestures you expected right? I somewhat expected Mother Teresa to appear somewhere in my research and readings, are these the everyday things that bring upon judgement day? and if not, why did i run, literally flee from a lunch with someone who found themselves essentially undermined by my desire to share food with them? what is it that led me to be so dis-charmed by that?

then I wondered, isn’t it selfish of me to imagine everyone else should be as selfless as my definition of selfless entails? if I consider sharing out 5 of my 6 precious items as kindness, yet another person considers sharing only 1 of theirs {or none} , does that qualify me as any better or any more giving? isn’t it selfish of me to imagine that everyone should be able to share out 5 {or all 6} of whatever precious items they hold?

advocates of selfishness cite self-preservation among the strongest reasons for it, yet still, I wondered, is it not selfish {or in the rose-colored tint, self-preserving}of me to imagine true in the words of one famous…

 

and if this is the case, what does that say of me and where I rank other crimes such murder?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Victims and Villains

She sat there wondering, asking, … does caring less equal less hurt? Is it true, that what you do not know does not hurt you? Is it not deceptively counter intuitive to consciously choose not to know something under the assumption that it will not hurt you if you do not know it? Is that not really just a way of assuming the worst and then settling for it anyway? Imagine a situation where your partner is lying to you, but you choose to deal with that situation by consciously choosing not to seek out, for fact, whether or not they are lying.

By extraction, that makes you one of two people:

Person # 1:

The eternal optimist who is oblivious to all and every kinds of hints and signs that things are not all ripe and fruity, who chooses to believe their partner is a saint and would never do anything as horrible as deceive them about anything, not even the mundane everyday lies of, ‘hey, no way, that dress looks fabulous on you, even the colour goes with your hair this month.’ Everyone is innocent until they deem themselves otherwise. These people are happy-go-lucky free spirits who endeavour to live each day as and when. Tomorrows have problems of their own and would be dealt with upon arrival.  At the end of the day, this group seemingly cares much less, perhaps also listen to studies such as the one done in Netherlands, as found out by Larry Miller and maybe promptly ignore such warnings as those found in the Corner of few words…, although there are hints about how to go about this optimism thing as observed by Heidi Grant Halvorso. YAY! right?

Or,

Person # 2:

The doomed pessimist who sees every little action or inaction as a sign and effort towards a cover up of one ill or another.  For them, every word, every kindness, every occurrence is met with succinct suspicion, everyone is guilty until proven otherwise, and the prosecutor, defendant, jury and judge roles, all reside on the shoulders of this one person.  These are a little harder to please, there is always reason to worry, to fidget, to furrow brows, always reason to have plan B, C, D … all the way to Z. They cluck and prattle like new mother hens.  This group on the other hand, seemingly cares too much. No, this is not meant to imply that they are all about gloom and doom, as observed by among others; Dr. Baruch Elitzur, a Clinical Psychologist, or as Pamela Laird puts it, pessimists are NEVER disappointed. YAY! no?

Despite the two very varying and distinctly different takes on life, it is a common belief among each of these groups, that what you do not know, can and will NOT harm you. The grand question however is, which is the better evil, to care less, OR to care too much?

Where do we strike the balance?

Do we incessantly dig and dig and dig for dirt till we come across the specs and grain that hint at earth? Do we nag and interrogate, checking and counter checking all answers and actions to ascertain that both intent and purpose are no doubt noble? Does this mean that we then settle for taking the fun out of living, always being on the look-out for deception and never accepting what is told to us at face-value? Even when it’s something as innocent as a mere compliment? Like, hey, that dress really does go with your hair.

Or,

Do we push ignore and settle for whatever lies come our way, because they make living that much easier, conflict free and friction-less. Does that then mean that we settle for a timid proclamation of fear, the fear of knowing, finding out the truth, that yes, the dress did go with the hair but, maybe no, the size wasn’t quite right?

Yet what is the worst that can come of knowing the truth, that we shop a little more carefully next time, for clothes / partners? Isn’t the experience of now, however fleeting, worth more than the conscious sabotaging of every possible current experience? And what to do when in one of those moments, when we can’t quite decide which we are, either one or the other, we stumble, {well, more like seek out with one eye closed and one eye open},  upon information that not only makes fools of us if we blatantly ignore it, but that also condemns us to realize that no matter what, deception is rife amongst us and in our everyday living? Do we want to accept as Ian Leslie somewhat casually suggests, that, all human societies need some lies to function?

So she sat there, looking at him, wondering, what was the point? She felt a little lurch in her heart, no, it was not love, nor was it hate, just sadness, and the realization of it was heartbreaking. Perhaps worse than most of her fears was that single realization, and she wondered what that made him…victim or villain?

Another Monday…

I have friends who rant and rave about Mondays, and then I have friends who genuinely research the poor fellow who invented Monday, and boy, do I feel for the guy when he is found, even if he will be a  David Attenborough find, the poor guy will have a lot to pay for. Now, on the other end of the spectrum, I have friends who prey on the approach of a Friday like chameleons do on flies, its crazy, when the momentum dips come Wednesday for the monday guys, this is when the pitch picks tone for the friday guys, they suddenly have something to live for, to work towards, the close of week!

I have no issues with either group as am one of those people who like to sit on the fence in such matters as favorite-day-of-the-week-to-trash/praise, and i tick Wednesday every time. this way, though everyone looks at me weird, no one usually has a come back on why my day is worse/better off than theirs…and with pristine effectiveness, arguments close, always. it’s too predictable am thinking of moving on to Tuesday just for the sake of it, to see if that day raises hairs or rests as easy as Wednesday.

So today, yes, Monday…, I held my god-son,gosh, hear me,already god-son’ed and wondered at how I could not think of better ways to spend Mondays, I left my supervisor not-too-pleased with my explanation for need to go hold a baby, {although I did promise to get back to work and carry my laptop with me} and promptly forgot all about that untill a few minutes back, when I realized the nagging feeling I felt at the back of my neck, just below my scalp, like a silly in-n-out itch was guilt for in order of weights;

#1: not blogging nearly as often as I should

#2: forgetting my work all day today {Monday and all} and seriously considering going to sleep. {my argument here is that given that we are already on Tuesday, and that none of the Monday Haters or Friday lovers I know are productive on this here day, what’s the worst that can happen? besides loosing an entire 24-hours that is?} Ofcos, if some people saw this blog it might turn out to be worse than anticipated…*sigh,

on further contemplation, I feel less terrible about not logging in to my blog for so long, now that I have managed to rumble on and unwind, I shall proceed to unearth my work and muse over it for a few hours coming. To thee all sleeping sweet, dream soft. 🙂

The Moon Wanes

Trials of raising a new born…

The skies are bright, stars illuminating

Amongst them, the moon, a gibbous waning…

In the play pen, the baby is yawning,

Besides it, the mother sighs, yearning,

Tired, disappointed, weary and lacking…

And yet ashamed to be any of them.

Motherhood is joyously euphorically amazing,

A complete and overwhelming utter miracle of new life

Entirely and solely dependent on her.

She is all knowing, all caring, very capable…

But alas! Where is the journal, that which prepares her,

For at best; sleepless, cold and colic induced nights…?

Where does she find, the art and grace to glide

By all the trials ahead, when even the tiniest of

Triumphs, like when baby giggles, send her into

Uncontrolled, panicky half laugh-half sobs…?

As her mind is all but consumed, with thoughts

Of a partner gone awol, barely before it was waning.

Three Wishes for a Better Life

Of life before the advent of credit and consumerism…

Juma, my husband, is a fisherman on the great Lake Victoria. For him, life is a three step affair – man is born, he lives and then he dies. Understanding this process however does not take away his anxieties or his want for a better life. I can see him now, sitting on his three legged stool behind our house on the hill, his back bent, elbows upon knees and his face cupped in the calloused palms of his hands, three furrows formed on his forehead, his mouth set in a grim line as he thinks of the three most important people in his life. Me his wife, my ailing mother and our three year old son, Vuma. All three of us depend on him to provide for our daily needs.

Juma fishes six nights a week, leaving Sundays free to ensure he is able to take our son to the three hour church service about three miles into the town centre, a hike they both enjoy. Despite all his efforts however, my husband Juma hardly meets the three basic needs for our family and I know that he wishes he could.  He needs to earn more money so that he can repair our house, provide food and medication for us all and have some savings so our son can go to school.

Our small home needs major repairs; the roof that does a poor job of keeping the rains out, the kitchen door that is only barely hanging on its hinges threatening to give way every time someone knocks and the missing window which has recently been crashed by a stray football and whose temporary replacement does little to keep the chilly night drafts at bay. Then there is the family’s health and nutrition.  My mother’s medical bills eat up more than half of all his earnings, leaving little to buy food and daily utilities. Three months ago, when the doctor had prescribed more medication, the family had had to give up some daily amenities including soap, sugar and our weekly Sunday delicacy of goat meat. Red meat was easily replaced by fish, a feat that Juma says is a good thing altogether especially given all the comments his mother made on how much brighter children from the lake side regions were due to all the fish they ate. ‘Our son is going to be a genius because of all the fish he is eating’ he says to me. But what good is there feeding Vuma with genius food day in day out if we cannot provide him with the education that will harness and help him exploit his potential. Although schools around Lake Victoria do not take children under the age of 6 years, we worry that three years will not be enough time to save the funds we need to make sure our son goes to school and stays there.

About three weeks ago, I went to the market and on the way back, I met a man. A very strange man, he said he was from a far away country; I did not doubt it for he did not look like anyone I had ever seen before. His skin was very fair and his tongue was heavy when he spoke, you could tell this was not his language, that he had learnt it.  He told me many things, he told me about how much he liked the weather, among many other things. However, he shared some grievances too, one thing he was not so pleased about was the fact that he could not use his plastic money to buy anything in the village shops and he always had to go to the bank, miles away to get cash for his daily use. I did not understand what he meant, although I quite liked the idea of having plastic money that I could use over and over again, to buy whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, irrespective of cost! But best of all, not need to have actual coins and notes.

When I spoke to Juma about it, he had dismissed it, ‘what nonsense are you on about?’ he asked, and because that was the doctor’s visit day, I dropped the subject, not wanting to upset him more that he already was. But today, as  I counted the three shillings I had saved from yesterday’s visit to the market for supplies, I wondered about the plastic money again, and as I watched my husband, weary and forehead furrowed with concentration, no doubt  thinking about the next days events, I knew that aside from a miraculous turn around of events, there was no way I would convince him a plastic card was worth any more than the three shillings I held in my palm, so resigned to the fate of spending only what I had and could see, I made three wishes for the next day, I wished for more fish in the hours of morning when he fished, I wished for more buyers in the market and I wished that my mother would get better soon and we could save some money for our son’s education. Three wishes, three coins and a tomorrow to give the verdict.

As tomorrow approaches however, will the plastic money be a life-line or shall we be enslaved by accumulated debt? Will the immediate benefits be worth the risk of accumulating debts? Maybe the now and here is not so bad after all? I walk towards him and sit on the floor beside his three legged stool, together we stare out at the horizons extending so far out, one could no longer tell where lake or land ended and the skies begun, he sighs deeply, I can see his eyes are troubled, but his voice is strong when he tells me that I should not despair, that all will be well. My heart glows with pride as I sit there beside him, realizing how diligently and lovingly he plays all his three very demanding role in the family; the concerned son-in-law; my dutiful husband and third but not least, the adoring father to our son Vuma.