My family is going through a very difficult financial time right now that each day is burgeoned with struggle. Each waking moment comes inundated with its own portion of challenges that goes beyond just getting through the day.
There are times when it’s truly hard to say that all is well when the struggle is tedious.
I go through bouts of depression and mental stress these days that I lose sleep and some days are much harder than others. Sometimes, I literally feel as if the quagmire of life is bent on swallowing me and I struggle to drag myself out of the funk.
Now as I grow older, I understand better and empathize with those who become overwhelmed with life and seek easy ways out of their pain. Sometimes, we are in so much unseen pain that the person right next to us does not even grasp the magnitude of our internal struggles.
Most times, these pains are not only in the mind, they affect other aspects of our body and who we are and a lot of times they are triggered by events out of our control. I am trying not to focus too much on the problems but to redirect my energy on possible solutions as focusing on the problems only amplifies them. I am also repeating the ‘serenity prayer’ to help me keep calm and absorbing the words
If you find it in your heart and with any change to spare, you can support me in your own little way. Shalom ♥
Getting back to blogging, I have found myself at a certain loss. It feels so familiar yet strange, because like everything that changes over time, a lot seems to have happened in blogosphere. I feel like a newbie, albeit with some jaded sense of know-how. I am tip-toeing around my blog trying to find my way once again, afraid to click on unknown features just in case I break something – not literally, but you get what I mean.
I recall that when I started blogging I could plug away for hours on end and derived such joy from putting my thoughts in writing. The joy has not gone though it has ebbed a bit. The hours to plug away on the keyboard has gone with the vagaries of life, since bills don’t pay themselves. Back then, I jumped in with such gusto and gumption and decision to make it work; to eke out a living doing something that I truly love. Things got in the way, life happened so much so that it made me question my trueness.
I have questioned my authenticity and second-guessed my passion for written and spoken word. I have found myself comparing and wondering if I am really true to my art. If I really want to be a writer as passionately as I had supposed? Because, as we are told, if you want something badly enough, you will do what needs to be done and you will find the time to make sure that it works out. It may sound romantic being a hungry, starving artist, but the rude awakening and harsh reality of life makes such aspirations a near impossible feat to achieve in this part of the world and in most parts I daresay.
NOT paying your bills can land you behind bars in my neck of the woods. As valuable as words may be, mine are yet to land me that goldmine and to present the peace of mind that money can buy or rather being able to sleep without your landlord hounding you for rent. I derail.
I have had to revamp my mind. To remember that often times the key notes of our life’s story might be out of tune for a bit, but once our fingers glide over the keys, like the gentle caress of a cherished old lover, we kindle with familiarity.
My thoughts are on how the blogging field has changed though my keyboard remains the same. How there are now many icons, bells and whistles here and there. I almost feel as if I should enroll in learning how things work here once again. Sadly, the course is paid for and I most certainly can’t afford such finesse. What do you think? Is going to WordPress University a worthwhile investment or do you think that I can find my way just by tinkering around?
The weather at this time of the year is at its best in the UAE. A great dose of chilly air with a bit of sun thrown in and I am totally lovin’ it 🙂
I’m going to stay in the present and enjoy every bit of the season without letting my mind run off to the fact that the blissful weather will not stay long with us.
Last evening, I had a lovely open-air evening out with some Emirati friends. We sat around the fire drinking Arabian coffee – a wonderful blend of coffee and spices – eating dates, cakes, grill etc. It was just a lovely evening well spent; watching the logs crackle and burn, eating, listening to music, chatting about everything and nothing.
Though my inner throat was growling to snaffle all the goodies in sight, I held my self-respect like a cloak around me in the chilly night and indulged daintily. I am a foodie and believe me when I tell you that the struggle to behave myself around food is real, especially when it comes to sweet nibbles.
I keep having to tell the cookie monster in me that it’s all about balance and not either of the extremes – starving the craving or gobbling up everything – and I think that approach keeps her tamed, calm and contented.
Last night also reminded me that the deeply satisfying and pleasurable things in life are the simple things and most times these simple things are free: laughter, friendship, music, nature…and of course food 😉
It’s the start of a new work week, though mine started yesterday and wherever you may be at this point in time, remember that grace abounds. May your week be fulfilling and your hunger satisfied.
Many times, I logged on, but I failed to say anything. Words milled around in my head, but they couldn’t transport to my fingers.
Where would I start? Is it the fact that I had a heart-stopping couple of weeks when I felt a suspicious bump in my bosom buddy? I was scared shitless!
I wondered about how I would have to start putting my house together and preparing my children for their journey through life without me. My thoughts were morbid. I was seized with fear. The emotions that raced through me were on another level. I couldn’t give words to them lest they took physical form and wings.
The visit to the doctors was nerve-wracking, to say the least, and I won’t bore you with the details, but I must tell you that I did a lot of soul-searching, had leaky eyes, ugly-cried and clutched my beads as I bargained with God.
Thankfully, fate has been merciful. The results came back. My Boobs are well. There is nothing to be alarmed about. Phew!
I felt guilty and not so guilty for having neglected my blog. My mind and heart were not in the right place and I needed a breather to realign myself.
My blog is my second home and I’m quite attached to it to such an extent that I found it difficult to come in and be blase about things when there’s so much going on with me. The connection I have with this blog transcends my ability to describe it and I guess it’s because I’ve invested a lot of my time and emotions into it. Strangely, I don’t have such affinity with other social platforms that I use.
Every day I consciously remind myself of the things that matter and I am learning each day as I journey on my path that the most important lesson – which hammers itself into my cranium – is that every moment we have been given is absolutely precious with a capital P.
Yesterday I witnessed something that disturbed me so much. At about 6pm I was driving down the highway and my car came to a screeching halt ‘cos a few meters away, right in front of me was a model-slim beautiful well-dressed black girl standing in the middle of a six-lane road.
Several cars stopped as well, ‘cos no one was sure of what was going on. She wasn’t attempting to cross the road, she was suicidal. Two brave men went and pulled her out of the middle of the road, but I’m afraid that if this young lady fails to get help, she will end up doing something painfully disastrous.
This incident messed up my brain cells a little and made me jittery. I was literally shaking with a thousand thoughts racing through my mind all at the same time. It triggered a rush of horrid feelings.
Many of you may not know this, but I have a history with a road accident and yesterday’s incident shook me, robbed me of my sleep and gave me a traumatizing nightmare.
I spent my sleepless night wondering what could have triggered such a young lady to such extent of mental anguish that she has chosen to get run over by a car?
I wondered if she has a family and where they were?
I wondered how she would get help in this forsaken place?
I spent part of my sleepless night recalling my accident and the young man I had inadvertently killed in the middle of a road several years ago.
Now I wish I had been strong enough to come down from my car to talk to this girl. To tell her that all is not lost. That there’s always hope and that she’s not alone. Maybe all she required was another listening ear. Now I am left sending silent prayers to this disturbed lady and hope that grace and mercy will abide with her. I hope that she finds succour.
Thank you for everything. It’s me. Standing here in need to be heard. I try to keep a positive and upbeat attitude, but many times doubt creeps in through the cracks. I will not live in the debilitating fear of uncertainty. I will try not to worry ‘cos worry simply amplifies a problem. I will keep my faith and not fear about being unable to provide or to succeed. I believe that you’ll provide for us as you have always done and that success is my just reward.
Dear Lord, however, I can’t lie and I must confess to you that there are days that I fret so much about our finances and future. There are days that holding on seems such a struggle. Days that I fervently pray for calmness in the periods of storm and that your grace is sufficient unto that day.
Dear Lord, I try to pragmatically do just do what needs to be done, though most times I am not even sure anymore.
Yes, we literally planted our dreams. Grabbing handfuls of the remaining Spring’s moments, I took the children to the park armed with our post-its and coloured pens. Each of us wrote out 5 dreams/aspiration of ours, folded the papers nicely, dug little holes around the tree and planted them amongst the grass. We had a few curious squirrels as observers and I guess they aren’t surprised ‘cos they’ve seen enough queer humans.
I told the children that though the paper might decay and become one with earth, the dreams have been sown into their hearts and that each day they must till the soil of their dreams, water and nurture them till they yield bountiful returns ‘cos every seedling has its season.
I also told them that sometimes our dreams and aspirations change and our harvest becomes different but that it’s okay ‘cos that’s the way life works at times. However, for each aspiration, they must plant it into the soil of their reality and not hold on to the seeds ‘cos the seeds alone will not yield abundance. ‘All great deeds begin as seeds.’ Months and years may pass before these seeds grow into full form and we see the glimpse of our harvest, but the birthing moment is as important as the harvest.
The land is green and the Earth is ripe for planting. Amidst the pressures of our modern lives, we tend to think that the conditions have to be right in order for us to start but time and time again my experience has shown that most times the simple act of starting is what makes the conditions right.
Easter came and sidled past like any other day – not like the Easters of my yesteryears. As much as I try to recreate and inculcate some of these joyous traditions for my children, I sometimes feel defeated by the lack of that communal warmth, excitement and feel of such seasons because we live in a place where most Christian celebrations aren’t much of a thing, and as a matter of fact, they mostly happen to be work days as well. I guess it’s one of the sacrifices that come with living in a cosmopolitan city where most times feel you invisible, overwhelmed and lost in the frantic lifestyle.
Sometimes, I question myself about the choices that we have made migrating and I silently wonder where the road will eventually lead. I guess as a parent most of us want to pass on the wonderful experiences of our childhood to our children and this is one of the times that I feel as if I suck as a parent ‘cos I just don’t think that I’m doing enough to create those beautiful memories that they can hold on to and possibly pass on to their progeny. I hope you had a lovely Easter break.
Sometimes, to elevate the mind
out of the miry bog of poor thoughts
takes every ounce of energy
that we have.
I’ve struggled this past week to get out of the nebulous state of my mind, to endure the flaring pain of Fibromyalgia and annoying flu that has me fatigued in all sorts of ways.
I try not to center my posts and my life on the malaise that I struggle with especially Fibromyalgia and Post traumatic stress disorder because I am not my pain.
Secondly, it’s difficult talking about invisible ailments to others, especially when some are busy looking for how to undermine other peoples challenges.
I choose not to make these things the focal point of my existence because they are not and no, I am not in denial. No matter how much these issues strive to take a lot of my attention and even when I am walking ball of pain, I choose not to indulge in any form of a pity party but face anything as it is and to keep searching for ways to overcome.
My blog space has been silent, but my mind has been a battlefield. I needed all my energy to pull myself up by the bootstraps.