..just a little nudge. Your Tip for the month..

August 1, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha6 Comments

We have cycled out of another month, gradually inching to the end of a very hectic year. Once August flies past, the rest of the months zoom by.

Now is the time to take a little peek at our resolutions, where under the influence of New Years glad tidings and Auld Lang Sine, we scribbled a thousand and one impossible things that we aspired to achieve (myself included).

How have we fared so far? Have we been able to make a crack at it yet?

The resolutions to break some habits, to form new habits, to write some more, to read some more, to change our lifestyle for healthier options, to acquire new skills, to undertake more intimate spiritual journeys, to laugh, love, give, and pray some more, to start that business idea, that book, that class, more rest (yes recuperation is also part of it, for the workaholics amongst us) and the list is ever endless….

Let us not feel overwhelmed and at a loss of breath for the shortness of time, if you have fallen behind.

A lot can still be achieved this month by tuning into ourselves and prioritizing:

– Review that list down to plausible short term goals: for the day, the week and at most for the month. Remember that little drops does create a large pool, and consistency creates habits.

– Reward yourself for every step made in the right direction towards your goals. Rewards could come in different forms and doesn’t have to be an expensive venture. It could be buying that book you have been wanting to read, a lie in, a relaxing day at the beach/park, going out with the girls for a laugh, a glass of your favorite wine, a soak in a bubble bath, seeing a movie, just find out what works for you. For example, when I put in a good work-out, I dance at the end of my workout. It makes me happy.

– Now, go get them. You can do it!

Life is not a short sprint but a journey undertaken in leisure, so endeavor to savor your journey.

Image credit: Thanks to Joshua Earle at Unsplash

Some Edible Mushroom…

May 24, 2015September 13, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha7 Comments

The cool early morning breeze seemed soothing and refreshing, but Jen did not think so.

She was chilled to the bones. The night had been very cold with rain drizzles.

Her lightweight jacket and rucksack were barely enough barrier against the chill,

and the park bench was not made for a good night’s sleep.

She knew she could not linger for too long,

constant fear of being accosted by the groundskeeper,

kept her as uncomfortable as a colicky cat,

but she had no energy left to undertake yet another long trek,

to a county soup kitchen.

She had chosen this quieter place, to keep out of the way of the officers,

who diligently monitored the obvious public ones, and were quick to shoo you along.

She stared blankly into the lush green fields,

the early morning tweets of birds, reminded her of home,

of the birds that had built a nest in the old oak in the front-yard.

Her heady dreams of finding that pot of gold,

at the end of the ever elusive rainbow,

had tugged and pulled at her,

until she left her small hometown, to the city of fortune.

She could remember ma’s tears as she stubbornly sought her way.

Her cupboard had quickly run bare, her rent a history to be told,

items of value pawned at such an accelerated rate.

Still pride would not let go, nor a cry for help uttered home.

The intercessions were getting busier by the day,

With people clutching individually inscribed cardboard’s.

Eyes silently pleading, in hope of a hand out.

She had grown tired of the pitiful stares,

Of the leers with suggestive looks on their faces,

Of the eyes reluctant to make contact,

Of the eyes that looked as if they had seen vermin or vomit.

She resolved to find a way to go home to ma,

At least a warm bed and food she would find.

Hunger pangs were gnawing her insides,

Last nights sandwich had barely been enough.

The sprouted dewy mushrooms glistened in the morning light,

Their toadstool shapes looked so pretty, clean, soft and edible.

Grandma gave us some of those, when I was a little girl she recalled,

but grandma forgot to educate the little girl,

that most times, those attractive ones, would surely pack a wicked punch.

She gorged from desperation, and drank from the water fountain,

Several hours later, she slept and was no more.

P.S. Remember to show compassion to the less privileged around you. You might very well be saving a life. 🙂 Thank you.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Fiction · Short story · Weave that Dream

The other one…

May 21, 2015September 12, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha10 Comments

I met her!

At long last!

Now, I can satisfy my curiosity and also put my aching desire to rest.

I fidgeted as we stood in the quiet restaurant sizing each other up. She was calm.

I had chosen an exclusive restaurant, to give our brains an opportunity to assimilate each others presence,

without getting consumed in the distractions that comes from the busy-ness of a crowded place.

My stomach was filled with butterflies. I could almost feel the rushing flow of my blood in my veins.

This was a moment that I had thought of all my conscious life.

The when? The what if? The how?

I felt that meeting her would be a glorious turning point in my stable life.

We would cry, laugh and take selfies.

We would talk non-stop to cover so much ground.

I came clutching the photo album, that I had put together.

I needed to slay my demons and I felt that she had the sword.

Finally, she would bring some rainbow and sunshine,

into the deepest parts of me that had lived for 27 years with the question; WHAT IF?

I wanted to get rid of that feeling of rejection; that feeling of inadequacy and doubt,

which had been constant shadowy companions, peeking over my shoulders.

I searched her eyes,

They were gray like mine; but they bore no warmth in their depths.

The curve of her lips which were shaped like mine; drew hard on the elegant E-cigarette which adorned her lips,

yet they could hardly shape into a smile.

Her raven black hair was devoid of any grey hairs. No strand was out of place. She was perfectly groomed.

She was still a very attractive woman; for her age.

I subconsciously smoothed down my floral Sunday best. I had dressed to impress.

Her facial features were stiff; I figured that it was due to the use of botox and not just the harshness of life.

A puff and a sip later,

Without much ado, she dove right into the matter.

I think you are grown up enough to understand, she said.

You came when I was least prepared to have a child, and the truth is that I am still not sure that I want that responsibility. I have never had motherly instincts, and at my age, I should know. I agreed to meet with you after all these years because I felt that was the least that I could do; so that you can move on.

I do not apologize for my decision to let you go. I did what I did because it was the best thing for me.

Does that make me selfish? Maybe?

But, look at you! You turned out very well. I am happy about that.

She picked up the tab, picked up her expensive looking leather pocket book and walked out of the revolving door,

without a backward glance. Only the whiff of her perfume and the trailing puff of her smoke lingered for a while.

I sat in utmost silence and bewilderment for quite a bit.

I polished off the remaining Cabernet Sauvignon as my idling brain struggled to process the entire episode.

For some reason, I did not feel a heavy crash of disappointment.

Some odd sense of burdened release seemed to be my most paramount feeling.

I felt like a captive whose shackles had been released. Free to love freely,

the woman who has nurtured me all these years, without any sense of guilt or boundaries.

I realized what my biological mother was,

a mere vehicle that providence used to bring me here.

That a good moment of feeling sexy and conception,

Did not automatically make you a good mother.

Through the figment of my imagination, that I had built over the years,

I had accorded so much what if’s and possibilities to her.

I was happy that I met her.

Happy to have the what if’s, the how and the when answered,

All in one fell swoop.

I may not have slain all my demons,

But I left my doubts and shadowy companions,

back in that exclusive restaurant.

I went home to my mother, my mum.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Musings

Spring Burst…

May 14, 2015 jacquelineobyikochaLeave a comment

With all the troublesome things jumping and nipping at your heels and begging for attention,

When was the last time you unveiled your inner mind to the splendor of nature that surrounds you wherever you are?

Achieving such feat of inner peace may seem far fetched with the constant deluge of horrendous happenings occurring at such rapid pace.

Its almost impossible to keep up and it seems to have our heads spinning in an unending tizzy.

Today has been one of those days. Between the constant alert of anticipated flash flood in neighboring counties and watching the mangled bits and pieces of the derailed Amtrak train; the faces of loss, pain and grief; I had to pause to ask myself..

If this were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am doing now?

What matters most in my life?

Am I holding on to somethings that I should let go of right now?

What am I doing about those things that matter most in my life?

Thus continued the nagging questions in my mind, with no immediate answers at hand.

I mute the television, I take a peek out of the window, I lace up my dirty sneakers and I walk to my favorite park.

The weather is mild and airy. The Earth still wet from the sprinkles of rain shower, which clung to plant leaves and flower petals like a lover reluctant to let go.

Taking those springy steps and inhaling deeply of the fresh earthy smell which is given off by the rain, I try to reconnect with the inner me. I think its a time just to be.

The park maintenance staff are quite engaged, replanting, mowing the grass, pruning and trimming the overgrown shrubbery.

The beautiful arrays of blooming flowers are indeed a good sight to cheer up a dampened spirit.

The fragrant mixed blend of fresh cut shrubs, of flowers and turned wet soil assailed my nostrils in a very pleasant manner.

I chat randomly with one of the workers, asking some questions about the plants. He was very willing to part with his knowledge at a little cost of a simple hello.

I decided there and then to try my hands at gardening. Who knows? I might turn out to have green fingers. Besides, I hear that there is something refreshing about nurturing a plant and seeing it grow.

I see the cautious old lady and her little dog. She offered a smile as we cross each other on the second turn across the park.

I take note of the much older gentleman who slowly sprints past me; I must be as slow as a slug,

I watch the squirrels darting back and forth in careless abandon,

I observe firsthand a bird fighting a poor squiggly earthworm to the finish,

I listen briefly as I pass a young mother pushing her little ones in a double buggy, she was humming a tune,

A sliver of sun breaks through the clouds, as I make my way back to the house,

Its a good day, I said to myself.

I am just happy to be.