Friday, May 04, 2012
downhill
its been a depressing year, i swear, from one bad thing to the next and it doesn't get better. it just keeps climbing gradually to an eventual downpour...heavy one like today's.
there are bad years and there are BAD years!
this is one of those BAD years!
anyhow its been raining this afternoon, cramps is killing me, i am staring at my PC totally unable to do anything constructive because staring at it for too long just gets my head throbbing like a thousand nails or insects are gnawing into the very core of my brain cells.
i have a project to do that could cost me quite a lot when i am done with it however... i botched it up by misunderstanding the instructions meaning i have to REDO it...and in a week which is hardly possible unless i am some super hero... i am thinking of ways not to 'panic' so i can sort it but i am so unable to right now with cramps clawing away at my sanity.
i like the fact that it rained,
but i do feel like i am losing the fight. i am not fighting anymore. God tells me he is fighting for me and that's all i need to believe now because Life is a big blur of confusion and problems and there is no tangible way out.i wish i were a kid again, no problems, no deadlines, no debts, no messed up relationships or pain or nothing...simply the worry of not being fed, not doing homework and your best friend ditching you because you refused to give them a pencil...
anyhow now that i am way grown up i guess i have to face my mountains only that to God i am still a child , so ama hide behind him and tell him to face all the issues in my life right now, seeing i am too cowardly to climb up NSSF building to he 7th floor and jump!
Thursday, March 29, 2012
cloudy with some rain...
i should have paid attention to the weather forecast alot more.
Gramps loved to read horoscopes, play crosswords and over the newspaper ask what the weatherforecast was as he rocked back and forth gently in his rocking chair on the veranda.
sometimes he sounded zanny when he would look up from his half eaten salad, his mouth all crinkled with age, his fingers once dainty plagued with coming of age athritis, 'phoebe, there is going to be some rain....'
' his rheumy eyes would set their beaded gaze on to me in a matter of fact way and i would laugh, 'come on dad, its only a few clouds, there is still alot of sun and remember what the weatherforecast said today, sunny with scatter clouds'
he would take a long deliberate look at me and revert his gaze to the paper in his hand,'i warned you,'
there was never any rain that time.
it was as dry as the sahara
but day after day after day as i hang the washing on the line, i would hear his old voice ring out , 'phoebe, be fast out there, the clothes will get wet, there is going to be some rain,'
i would laugh out and call, ' i heard you dad, i heard you.'
i thought his 80 years was playing on him.
daddy loved rain. no he wasnt my daddy but technically ever since my husband, his son passed on. we had grown so close. i never remaaried. i saw alot of my husband in this kind old man with crazy stories of the first locomotive in his region, the education system then and being a brilliant pupil. i could not rival his oral english. he was a gem. but one thing e never talked about was his wife who passed on whilst giving birth to my dead husband. daddy Gramps never remarried. he would have once, but he never did. he was a handsome young man and when he returned to the country from overseas where he worked in high offcies in Addis Ababa and some place in England, he was young, dashing,. well learned and the hearthrob of so many girls but he picked Mama Peaches. he loved to call her that becasue she wore a fragrance he told us smelled of the freshest peaches he could recall eating in the spring of 1947 whilst in the United states in school. i never knew Mama Peaches but i saw the pictures and a few love letters whilst cleaning up his cupboard one day.when i brought it up at dinner once, he seemed upset and i realsied it was a topic i could not deal with.
i left it alone.
we never talked about Mama Peaches for the twenty five yerars i knew Daddy Gramps
but lately his obsession with weather was making me smile.... i never looked into it much.
not much until the day i found him in bed the next morning unable to move. he had called out to me, 'its raining! phoebe! it is raining!'i rushed from the kitchen hearing him gasp and whizz. the doctor had warned that with his age and failing health i had to be prepared foranything
'daddy gramps!' i screamed more out of fear of losing him.
' i was at his bed side,' trying to plump up the pillow when i noticed his bed was dump, wet. his pillow was dripping lightly and on the floor a puddle started to gather.
i stood back in shock. i quickly scanned the roof, was it leaking? it wasn't.
'daddy gramps, what..what is going on , i asked puzzled. his bed was wet, down to his body that was cold and clammy,' i need to get you out of here, its so wet. what happened!,'
'i told you,' he whizzed, 'its going to rain,'
'not in here daddy gramps,' i said hastily, 'not in here. i started to lift his frail body out of the bed. he waved me off.
'leave me Phoebe,'
'but daddy gramps...'
i started
'no phoebe,' he was firm even in a feeble way,'i told you it was cloudy and that it would rain,'
my panic melted to an eerie fear. what was going on?
'i dont understand daddy gramps. you need to get out of that wet bed, i dont know how it got wet first of all...'
then he mentioned her name, 'peaches, Phoebe, its almost time.'
our eyes locked for a brief moment. i searched his and a terrible fear clothed my own soul like a dark cloak
'no!' i jumped up from the couch in his room and made a lung for the bed, 'no daddy gramps,' something about his look told me he was ready...but i was not ready
'please Phoebe,' he begged me
'its been cloudy too long. i needed it to rain,' he whipsered
the tears welled up from my soul and i buried my head in his frail chest and cried, 'not yet daddy gramps, you never told me anything about her, you never told me anything. not now. we still have a few more years...'
i could feel his hands pat my head lightly,'Phoebe, remember the box in my cupboard? read everything there. you will know everything, '
'please...' i begged
'i have to go now, Phoebe, thank you,' he whispered.
Daddy Gramps died that saturday morning in a wet bed with my head on his chest.
i wept like a five year old who has losrt her favourite toy. his birthday was only a week away, next friday. i had been plannig a secret surprise. i had learned a new recipe and i was getting his favourite roast chicken and mushrooms and soup. now he was gone. just like that
in a dripping wet bed.
after several hours i called my aunt and a few relatives. i told them what happened. i also called his doctor. i went out to his study as people started to file in, one by one. i ddi not want to see anyone or his body. i locked myself in his study and went to the cupboard. indeed all the letters where there and a dairy.
i picked it and flipped through, a paper slipped out. it was folded and it looked very old, browning with age and abit too thin. it was adressed to me.shocked,i opened it and the heading had a date 1948, 'dear phoebe, i know some day you will have to read thisshe was dashing in the rain. wet to her ankles from runnig off it to the pavement,she caught my eye and a palyful smile touched her eyes as she brushed past me at the bus station. i caught a faint whiff of her perfume and breathed in deeply...peaches. she smelled amazingly of peaches. i turned round inspite of me. i never took a second glance at any woman, but i did for miss... i donno-who- who- smelled- of -peaches' she was laughing with her friends. the rain was bad and it got worse. we were forced to back up to the pavement as we waited for the buses. there was no use moving, i went back to the restaurant and sat in the corner i ghad sat. my dad had told me it was cloudy and it would rain soon but i needded to go out today. meet George.... and i guess it was my day to meet Peaches. she took my breathe away. her smile, her wide eyes, her flawless chocolate skin, her teeth...her peachy perfume. its funny people say love at first sight is a dream but i was madly and deeply in love with the stranger who smelled of peaches,' she walked in with her friends, removed her raincoat, her coiffed hair still in place , they sat three tables ahead of me, her chair faced me and our eyes locekd again. she was laughing at something someone said.' after thirty minutes i could not help it. i went over and paid for their tea. i told her...very ungentlemanly that i wanted to meet her if it was possible. i did not know how else to do it. she played the mouse and baited me abit. i lvoed the game. but she did not turn down my offer for lunch. after lunch, it was a movie, then a walk in the park, then a ride in my new car, after that, we met every sunday. had lunch at each others homes. met the families. we both loved it when it rained. it rained alot that month we courted. we were married the next month. the priest screamed out the vows in pouring rain. our honeymoon was a blissful cold one. we snuggled under the covers for two weeks, wile it drizzled outside. rain became us,. we became it. it rained when she got pregnant. i was over joyed and then the day of the miscarriage...it rained too and i hated the rain then becasue it represented nothnig but pain. we got over that cloudy period. i supported her. and we enjoyed each other for three more years and tried again. the day she said she told me she was pregnant, i was scared and excited. we both where. daddy had said the night before while we were at my parents home that the weather forecast was going to be cloudy. it had been quite warm lately. warm inside for us as well and now the bliss of a cool breeze seemed welcoming. i dont know what was with daddy and the weather.he simply said the stars had a lot to do wtih it. superstitious old man i say. the clouds gathered through the months, slight drizzles and while i was excited. a heavy dark cloud hang over me. i was not sure what wuodl happen, but month after month, peaches blossomed and i saw our baby kick at times. by the eighth month, i was sure, nothing would go wrong. the day her water broke, it was raining. the car broek down and i cursed it. i had to call george to take us to hospital but when we got there, dude to unseen complications Peaches died but not wwithout seeing our son Edward. his birth was a miracle. i cired like my life was voer. my heart broke then and i have never recovered.' in Edward, i saw Peaches. she was everything, his smile, his eyes, his playful teasing. she lived in him. i did not think he would meet a lovely girl like phooebe and only years later succumb to cancer and die. my peaches and my son were dead and i am glad Phoebe stayed. she was the embodiment of my past and present.but i started to watch the stars like daddy. maybe he had seen something i had not. maybe the seasons were a telling of our lives. i dont know how.maybe. maybe...then i found out something at my father's death. something that changed everything and it is what i am passing on to you,phoebe. my father was not obssessed with stars and weather parterns for nothing.my father had, while as a child found out the secret in his lineage. way back before his great grand father was born, his ancestors discovered an object, small and smooth like a stone. they did not know how but from the day they retrieved it. it rained. then they found that it glowed faintly at times. they did not know how but it seemed to affect weather and the lives of those that had it. it reduced age. it helped you relieve some days in your life at your death.one of my ancestors died young only to return and say he had gone back to his child hood and it was so real. they worshipped the stone and we kept it as a family secret. when it was passed on to me, my father could not wait to go back in his own time to his youth and enjoy some wild hay days. it depended on how much you thought about that particular time of your life. thats what my father said. i would like to believe we never died but continued living in another time, relieving our past. Mama Peaches was all i could think of for years, she was always on my mind. her perfume has been with us all the time. i needed to go back. the stone started to glow a year ago and i could tell that the time was fast apporaching and i started to watch the clouds, the sky, the weather update was always wrong. i knew it would rain. i knew it and i could feel it when i looked at the stone. my time has come Phoebe and now i pass this gift to you. i know you miss Edward. i do too but its your chance for happiness. i may not be here to watch you enjoy your moment with him but i do hope that you shall leave this precious stone with a worthy person or bury it behind the house for someone to find who the stone will choose to bestow upon the gift of second chance. this secret has blest my family. may it bless you for you are and have been my only family. much love daddy Gramps.
p.s when you find this letter it will have rained on me. but i wrote it along time ago, at that bus stop when it rained,. i worte this at the cafe for you, right beofre i went to meet Peaches at her table. i hope you understand.bye bye.'
i sat there for the lnogest time, oblivios of everything, of sound of life of anything.i had to let the contents of the letter sink it because i didnot understand what it meant. weird fables? but who could explain the water drenched bed, i could not. this seemed the only plausible explanatino, 'it rained on him,' i got up from the stool still shaken and stared out the window. the clouds were gathering fast. my forwn deepnd. the letter date was 1948, had he written it before he died, while he died...it was all tooo confusing. maybe it was her time to find out for herself. maybe it was.
wth alot on my mind i jonied the people filing in, friends and a few of my own family members. the doctor laboured to tell me daddy gramps had died in his sleep but i knew better and what's more...his bed was as dry as a bone. the stone could be the only explanation. i did not know how but it had to be something with reversal of time or when it rained on him he was already in 1948. i dont know. like i said i shall find out. or i already did.
well, i did.
the day we buried daddy Gramps. it rained , it rained so hard but i knew it rained only on me. i had been waiting for it. i was back there in 1973 at my own father's funeral. the clouds were gathering fast and everyone was pulling up an umbrella. i knew then what i should have known along time ago only that along time and ago and now seemed to have reconciled past and present lay before me. i caressed the stone in my pocket, closed my eyes as the rain came down in heavy pelts. i ddid not want to go back. i wanted to stay here becasue the next day at the cafeteria was when i met Edward.
Gramps loved to read horoscopes, play crosswords and over the newspaper ask what the weatherforecast was as he rocked back and forth gently in his rocking chair on the veranda.
sometimes he sounded zanny when he would look up from his half eaten salad, his mouth all crinkled with age, his fingers once dainty plagued with coming of age athritis, 'phoebe, there is going to be some rain....'
' his rheumy eyes would set their beaded gaze on to me in a matter of fact way and i would laugh, 'come on dad, its only a few clouds, there is still alot of sun and remember what the weatherforecast said today, sunny with scatter clouds'
he would take a long deliberate look at me and revert his gaze to the paper in his hand,'i warned you,'
there was never any rain that time.
it was as dry as the sahara
but day after day after day as i hang the washing on the line, i would hear his old voice ring out , 'phoebe, be fast out there, the clothes will get wet, there is going to be some rain,'
i would laugh out and call, ' i heard you dad, i heard you.'
i thought his 80 years was playing on him.
daddy loved rain. no he wasnt my daddy but technically ever since my husband, his son passed on. we had grown so close. i never remaaried. i saw alot of my husband in this kind old man with crazy stories of the first locomotive in his region, the education system then and being a brilliant pupil. i could not rival his oral english. he was a gem. but one thing e never talked about was his wife who passed on whilst giving birth to my dead husband. daddy Gramps never remarried. he would have once, but he never did. he was a handsome young man and when he returned to the country from overseas where he worked in high offcies in Addis Ababa and some place in England, he was young, dashing,. well learned and the hearthrob of so many girls but he picked Mama Peaches. he loved to call her that becasue she wore a fragrance he told us smelled of the freshest peaches he could recall eating in the spring of 1947 whilst in the United states in school. i never knew Mama Peaches but i saw the pictures and a few love letters whilst cleaning up his cupboard one day.when i brought it up at dinner once, he seemed upset and i realsied it was a topic i could not deal with.
i left it alone.
we never talked about Mama Peaches for the twenty five yerars i knew Daddy Gramps
but lately his obsession with weather was making me smile.... i never looked into it much.
not much until the day i found him in bed the next morning unable to move. he had called out to me, 'its raining! phoebe! it is raining!'i rushed from the kitchen hearing him gasp and whizz. the doctor had warned that with his age and failing health i had to be prepared foranything
'daddy gramps!' i screamed more out of fear of losing him.
' i was at his bed side,' trying to plump up the pillow when i noticed his bed was dump, wet. his pillow was dripping lightly and on the floor a puddle started to gather.
i stood back in shock. i quickly scanned the roof, was it leaking? it wasn't.
'daddy gramps, what..what is going on , i asked puzzled. his bed was wet, down to his body that was cold and clammy,' i need to get you out of here, its so wet. what happened!,'
'i told you,' he whizzed, 'its going to rain,'
'not in here daddy gramps,' i said hastily, 'not in here. i started to lift his frail body out of the bed. he waved me off.
'leave me Phoebe,'
'but daddy gramps...'
i started
'no phoebe,' he was firm even in a feeble way,'i told you it was cloudy and that it would rain,'
my panic melted to an eerie fear. what was going on?
'i dont understand daddy gramps. you need to get out of that wet bed, i dont know how it got wet first of all...'
then he mentioned her name, 'peaches, Phoebe, its almost time.'
our eyes locked for a brief moment. i searched his and a terrible fear clothed my own soul like a dark cloak
'no!' i jumped up from the couch in his room and made a lung for the bed, 'no daddy gramps,' something about his look told me he was ready...but i was not ready
'please Phoebe,' he begged me
'its been cloudy too long. i needed it to rain,' he whipsered
the tears welled up from my soul and i buried my head in his frail chest and cried, 'not yet daddy gramps, you never told me anything about her, you never told me anything. not now. we still have a few more years...'
i could feel his hands pat my head lightly,'Phoebe, remember the box in my cupboard? read everything there. you will know everything, '
'please...' i begged
'i have to go now, Phoebe, thank you,' he whispered.
Daddy Gramps died that saturday morning in a wet bed with my head on his chest.
i wept like a five year old who has losrt her favourite toy. his birthday was only a week away, next friday. i had been plannig a secret surprise. i had learned a new recipe and i was getting his favourite roast chicken and mushrooms and soup. now he was gone. just like that
in a dripping wet bed.
after several hours i called my aunt and a few relatives. i told them what happened. i also called his doctor. i went out to his study as people started to file in, one by one. i ddi not want to see anyone or his body. i locked myself in his study and went to the cupboard. indeed all the letters where there and a dairy.
i picked it and flipped through, a paper slipped out. it was folded and it looked very old, browning with age and abit too thin. it was adressed to me.shocked,i opened it and the heading had a date 1948, 'dear phoebe, i know some day you will have to read thisshe was dashing in the rain. wet to her ankles from runnig off it to the pavement,she caught my eye and a palyful smile touched her eyes as she brushed past me at the bus station. i caught a faint whiff of her perfume and breathed in deeply...peaches. she smelled amazingly of peaches. i turned round inspite of me. i never took a second glance at any woman, but i did for miss... i donno-who- who- smelled- of -peaches' she was laughing with her friends. the rain was bad and it got worse. we were forced to back up to the pavement as we waited for the buses. there was no use moving, i went back to the restaurant and sat in the corner i ghad sat. my dad had told me it was cloudy and it would rain soon but i needded to go out today. meet George.... and i guess it was my day to meet Peaches. she took my breathe away. her smile, her wide eyes, her flawless chocolate skin, her teeth...her peachy perfume. its funny people say love at first sight is a dream but i was madly and deeply in love with the stranger who smelled of peaches,' she walked in with her friends, removed her raincoat, her coiffed hair still in place , they sat three tables ahead of me, her chair faced me and our eyes locekd again. she was laughing at something someone said.' after thirty minutes i could not help it. i went over and paid for their tea. i told her...very ungentlemanly that i wanted to meet her if it was possible. i did not know how else to do it. she played the mouse and baited me abit. i lvoed the game. but she did not turn down my offer for lunch. after lunch, it was a movie, then a walk in the park, then a ride in my new car, after that, we met every sunday. had lunch at each others homes. met the families. we both loved it when it rained. it rained alot that month we courted. we were married the next month. the priest screamed out the vows in pouring rain. our honeymoon was a blissful cold one. we snuggled under the covers for two weeks, wile it drizzled outside. rain became us,. we became it. it rained when she got pregnant. i was over joyed and then the day of the miscarriage...it rained too and i hated the rain then becasue it represented nothnig but pain. we got over that cloudy period. i supported her. and we enjoyed each other for three more years and tried again. the day she said she told me she was pregnant, i was scared and excited. we both where. daddy had said the night before while we were at my parents home that the weather forecast was going to be cloudy. it had been quite warm lately. warm inside for us as well and now the bliss of a cool breeze seemed welcoming. i dont know what was with daddy and the weather.he simply said the stars had a lot to do wtih it. superstitious old man i say. the clouds gathered through the months, slight drizzles and while i was excited. a heavy dark cloud hang over me. i was not sure what wuodl happen, but month after month, peaches blossomed and i saw our baby kick at times. by the eighth month, i was sure, nothing would go wrong. the day her water broke, it was raining. the car broek down and i cursed it. i had to call george to take us to hospital but when we got there, dude to unseen complications Peaches died but not wwithout seeing our son Edward. his birth was a miracle. i cired like my life was voer. my heart broke then and i have never recovered.' in Edward, i saw Peaches. she was everything, his smile, his eyes, his playful teasing. she lived in him. i did not think he would meet a lovely girl like phooebe and only years later succumb to cancer and die. my peaches and my son were dead and i am glad Phoebe stayed. she was the embodiment of my past and present.but i started to watch the stars like daddy. maybe he had seen something i had not. maybe the seasons were a telling of our lives. i dont know how.maybe. maybe...then i found out something at my father's death. something that changed everything and it is what i am passing on to you,phoebe. my father was not obssessed with stars and weather parterns for nothing.my father had, while as a child found out the secret in his lineage. way back before his great grand father was born, his ancestors discovered an object, small and smooth like a stone. they did not know how but from the day they retrieved it. it rained. then they found that it glowed faintly at times. they did not know how but it seemed to affect weather and the lives of those that had it. it reduced age. it helped you relieve some days in your life at your death.one of my ancestors died young only to return and say he had gone back to his child hood and it was so real. they worshipped the stone and we kept it as a family secret. when it was passed on to me, my father could not wait to go back in his own time to his youth and enjoy some wild hay days. it depended on how much you thought about that particular time of your life. thats what my father said. i would like to believe we never died but continued living in another time, relieving our past. Mama Peaches was all i could think of for years, she was always on my mind. her perfume has been with us all the time. i needed to go back. the stone started to glow a year ago and i could tell that the time was fast apporaching and i started to watch the clouds, the sky, the weather update was always wrong. i knew it would rain. i knew it and i could feel it when i looked at the stone. my time has come Phoebe and now i pass this gift to you. i know you miss Edward. i do too but its your chance for happiness. i may not be here to watch you enjoy your moment with him but i do hope that you shall leave this precious stone with a worthy person or bury it behind the house for someone to find who the stone will choose to bestow upon the gift of second chance. this secret has blest my family. may it bless you for you are and have been my only family. much love daddy Gramps.
p.s when you find this letter it will have rained on me. but i wrote it along time ago, at that bus stop when it rained,. i worte this at the cafe for you, right beofre i went to meet Peaches at her table. i hope you understand.bye bye.'
i sat there for the lnogest time, oblivios of everything, of sound of life of anything.i had to let the contents of the letter sink it because i didnot understand what it meant. weird fables? but who could explain the water drenched bed, i could not. this seemed the only plausible explanatino, 'it rained on him,' i got up from the stool still shaken and stared out the window. the clouds were gathering fast. my forwn deepnd. the letter date was 1948, had he written it before he died, while he died...it was all tooo confusing. maybe it was her time to find out for herself. maybe it was.
wth alot on my mind i jonied the people filing in, friends and a few of my own family members. the doctor laboured to tell me daddy gramps had died in his sleep but i knew better and what's more...his bed was as dry as a bone. the stone could be the only explanation. i did not know how but it had to be something with reversal of time or when it rained on him he was already in 1948. i dont know. like i said i shall find out. or i already did.
well, i did.
the day we buried daddy Gramps. it rained , it rained so hard but i knew it rained only on me. i had been waiting for it. i was back there in 1973 at my own father's funeral. the clouds were gathering fast and everyone was pulling up an umbrella. i knew then what i should have known along time ago only that along time and ago and now seemed to have reconciled past and present lay before me. i caressed the stone in my pocket, closed my eyes as the rain came down in heavy pelts. i ddid not want to go back. i wanted to stay here becasue the next day at the cafeteria was when i met Edward.
Monday, February 27, 2012
venting
when all i want to do is wave my fist heaven wards and vent... i hold back and write it out, amidst torrents of tears or just a numb mechanic slow locomotive way. it works and i am spent but this time round i am prolly holding back more than i can say and i dont know how to write it out but ..
anyhow, l learned that negative energy, emotion and all that is anything but delight giving is destructive and at times its all you get in life and you die and no one understands why...
i met a few people, who talked about something i understood so deeply words alone could not describe it from me to them what it was i wanted them to understand, all they felt was the pain caused by what and who had hurt them. i didnt want to defend the action but i wanted them to know i fully understand how it happened and not fully why but at least, knowing how and what it is is a step to healing. but i noticed they chose the easier path, the vindictive path...to make it right, to get some satisfaction and it wasn't helping and no one was letting up. i understood why they decided to do the revenge thing, ' revenge being served cold is truly an awesome dish...then what?
so iam venting like i said or am i?
why does all theses bad stuff happen to unsuspecting innocent people who dont know they are being played with?
anyhow, l learned that negative energy, emotion and all that is anything but delight giving is destructive and at times its all you get in life and you die and no one understands why...
i met a few people, who talked about something i understood so deeply words alone could not describe it from me to them what it was i wanted them to understand, all they felt was the pain caused by what and who had hurt them. i didnt want to defend the action but i wanted them to know i fully understand how it happened and not fully why but at least, knowing how and what it is is a step to healing. but i noticed they chose the easier path, the vindictive path...to make it right, to get some satisfaction and it wasn't helping and no one was letting up. i understood why they decided to do the revenge thing, ' revenge being served cold is truly an awesome dish...then what?
so iam venting like i said or am i?
why does all theses bad stuff happen to unsuspecting innocent people who dont know they are being played with?
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
men, men, men!
i know its been forever since last i blogged but that is because the heat kept me in a permanent state of lethargy, so much, my brains were fried under the glaring stare of an angry blazing star- that golden orb called 'sun'and much more...
however the year started off on a low like all years really, letting go of this and that, getting over the other etc...
and my final resolution has come down to ..enjoy somethings in life as they come...
okay..will finish another day
however the year started off on a low like all years really, letting go of this and that, getting over the other etc...
and my final resolution has come down to ..enjoy somethings in life as they come...
okay..will finish another day
Thursday, December 08, 2011
86400 seconds in a day...
lately ihave been thinknig alot about life, about the things we take for granted, the way we dont do what we should, the way we misuse our time and efforts and life. and we never know time has slipped by untill we are dying....or worse...(what could be worse) so i ripped this off Paulo Coelho's blog and i am hopping it makes you think as hard as it did me....
The five regrets
by PAULO COELHO
(One of my friends here sent me a link while commenting on “Insult the dead”. I checked it and I stumbled upon a very interesting text by Bonnie Ware. Below a resumée: )
For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives.
When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:
1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.
From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.
2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.
This came from every male patient that I nursed. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.
3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.
The five regrets
by PAULO COELHO
(One of my friends here sent me a link while commenting on “Insult the dead”. I checked it and I stumbled upon a very interesting text by Bonnie Ware. Below a resumée: )
For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives.
When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:
1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.
From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.
2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.
This came from every male patient that I nursed. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.
3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.
Thursday, December 01, 2011
between dreaming and waking
It’s that witching hour again, that half-light hour when everything creative comes alive before its robbed of life by full light
It’s about 6:12am according to my wrist watch but really actual time is 6.02am and I do get confused about the time and not being sure if my wrist watch or the wall clock is correct…
It’s early and I haven’t been up early in a while just to sit and muse on things. If I am up early its to dash to the bathroom and get reading for something I have to do on telly at 7am or earlier. If I am not early then I am up at 10am or so when the house is alive and buzzing with life and I have no time for me.
Time for me
The right phrase.
It’s been so long since I really did have time for me, time to get up walk out on the front porch ,sit and think or pray inwardly or just recollect and energize myself for the day. It’s been so long
So friggin’ long, it’s only now writing that I can tell …the echo and beckon in my soul for some time…kills me
Just talked to my boyfriend a couple of hours earlier and he was aghast I was still up. (Well watched three movies back to back) and threatened me lovingly to go to bed or else…I was glad he called, earlier than the anticipated time too.
Boyfriend…
Hmmm
Funny I should call him that…when we haven’t yet physically met for 5 months, we both have played detective on each other, fought and cried and almost broke up but had our laughs too. I can’t say if we don’t trust each other for all that distance does to us but one thing we both enjoy is the way we gasp when the phone rings, the way we can’t hang up even after being on the phone for hours, the way we break our promises to not call each other when we think we have had enough of each other and guess what? We are right back at it. The way we tease and laugh at each other and share every moment of each day with each other as if the other was here or there.
Boyfriend
Sounds like a heavy word, one I never use, but to cater for the warmth he brings into my life with all the loopholes we have in this somewhat ‘virtual relationship,’ I am willing to jump ship and go on a mad dive in an ocean filled with sharks and call him ‘boyfriend,’
Speaking of…
The past few months and weeks have been weird…emotionally strung out, spiritually lifted one moment then…all hell seemed to break loose and…
I will confess I haven’t actually been to church in two weeks.
Somehow I wasn’t feeling it. For no apparent reason.
No , not exactly true.
Something happened to me somewhere in those past five months and I seemed to lose direction, seemed to suddenly slip into depression and anxiety and a whole lot more I personally could not explain .waking up was hard…really hard.
Some days all I wanted to do was sleep all day. Literally!
Other days I was moody and out of sorts and couldn’t stand anyone not even myself.
My dreams were muddled and fuzzy. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go on. My jobs, everything I did or tried to do…seemed hopeless and I didn’t want to do it anymore. Slowly a heavy cloud just seemed to hover over me glide down, hang there and…it only rained on me…while everyone else basked in the glorious sunlight of living… I buried myself in something else…
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing
Because suddenly I felt like someone came in and took my everything away, my creativity, my dreams, my heart, my life. I felt immobile, stagnated…useless. My mind could not for the life of me fixate on anything.
So I face-booked and took coffee.
Even on my last dime.
I made my way to a coffee shop for coffee. It seemed to provide some small comfort. And my friends…
I kept away…I don’t know why...but somehow I didn’t feel anyone would truly understand what I was struggling with. The fight to regain me and chase whoever it was that possessed me then.
Then the bad dreams…the heavy feeling, the weird sensations…
And I knew it was beyond me…this was spiritual. I didn’t understand why after so many years this was happening all over again.
Met my cousin on a Sunday after in I missed church and she told me one thing, ‘pray’
I knew what she meant. She was concerned and could tell something was wrong. The realization brought on the full monty. Depression heightened, lost vision increased, tripled in fact, and the lost-for- life’s-luster just catapulted to another level…
All I wanted to do was die. What was life worth for if I couldn’t dream or write or be me? I kept telling myself.
So I tried one more time and talked to God...told him I needed him to help me out because life was passing me by and I hated how I felt….
I woke up yesterday different…it’s actually been getting better since I prayed. I didn’t say much… I simply let Him Know I needed help. I just needed all this to go away and I needed to be me again, focused, pursuing my dreams, writing again, loving my jobs again. I needed to be me again…
And today…I felt alive… I did things I had postponed for two weeks…
And my heart has been craving for a book. I had one actually…I couldn’t make much sense of it before but clearer head now… I want it so bad…
So its Friday already and at the close of the last movie, I picked up a book that I had read along while ago on dreams, following them, being a dream catcher… flipped through, read a bit and the old nostalgia of me sprung up…me that needed time to go away, alone time to think things through, put them into perspective and brew them then spew them out on a blog or my journal…the old familiar feeling that it was going to be okay was back
My mind was rummaging furiously through the rubble that is, my mind, picking here and there…
Conversations,
Feelings,
Reactions,
Struggles,
The battle within…
And something else came to mind…
Questions
About me, life, people
When I battled my phase of indifference and lack of life luster….i knew no one would understand it…I tried.. and realized no one but God could understand it. The advice varied, ‘pray,’ ‘fight on,’ ‘don’t wallow,’ but no one really reached out deep enough to try and understand the mesh I was caught up in. it wasn’t my own doing, I wanted out, I just couldn’t get out.
I couldn’t blame them. It was deeper than understanding understanding (or maybe not). It was my need for a spiritual experience, a deeper connection… a need to meet with someone that understood deeply without so much as a whole narration of my ordeals to simply put a finger to my ranting lips and say, ‘I understand,’ in a profound way.
Just when I figured who that could be… the clouds started to part…
The book gave me insight too, reminded me why I still needed to live. Why I was important and why mistakes were a part of life and why it could not all be perfect.
I am not sure if I was depressed because life seemed so imperfect, and dreams had so many valley points or that pain and twists and turns in the journey could be so unplanned so totally out of my strict schedule or if it was all one big spiritual battle with God telling me he wanted to come through for me…better still both.
But I do know one led to the other. Now I know that. But as I look at this book and flip through. (I intend on reading it again) I know now, it’s all not easy, the things you love and attaining the mountain height. It all comes with a little pain, a little struggle, a little war and even disillusionment but when you have Jesus on your side, he comes through, he always does.
My life lessons in the past few months…people are not perfect, but love is. Be more accepting. Be more forgiving of you mostly…be less rigid…life can be a joke too, depends on how you look at it.
Enjoy the ride, it is actually fun…that way it’s easy to shake off the disappointments and pain…and above all forward movement….
A friend told me something I decided to take on seriously, ‘sometimes when you want something or you are into something, it’s important to first find out how you feel, block off what everyone else thinks or feels and find within you your answer…that’s the most important step,’ I am doing that too.
Is it giving me peace? Yes, and helping me handle my situations better. Less impulsively
It’s about 6:12am according to my wrist watch but really actual time is 6.02am and I do get confused about the time and not being sure if my wrist watch or the wall clock is correct…
It’s early and I haven’t been up early in a while just to sit and muse on things. If I am up early its to dash to the bathroom and get reading for something I have to do on telly at 7am or earlier. If I am not early then I am up at 10am or so when the house is alive and buzzing with life and I have no time for me.
Time for me
The right phrase.
It’s been so long since I really did have time for me, time to get up walk out on the front porch ,sit and think or pray inwardly or just recollect and energize myself for the day. It’s been so long
So friggin’ long, it’s only now writing that I can tell …the echo and beckon in my soul for some time…kills me
Just talked to my boyfriend a couple of hours earlier and he was aghast I was still up. (Well watched three movies back to back) and threatened me lovingly to go to bed or else…I was glad he called, earlier than the anticipated time too.
Boyfriend…
Hmmm
Funny I should call him that…when we haven’t yet physically met for 5 months, we both have played detective on each other, fought and cried and almost broke up but had our laughs too. I can’t say if we don’t trust each other for all that distance does to us but one thing we both enjoy is the way we gasp when the phone rings, the way we can’t hang up even after being on the phone for hours, the way we break our promises to not call each other when we think we have had enough of each other and guess what? We are right back at it. The way we tease and laugh at each other and share every moment of each day with each other as if the other was here or there.
Boyfriend
Sounds like a heavy word, one I never use, but to cater for the warmth he brings into my life with all the loopholes we have in this somewhat ‘virtual relationship,’ I am willing to jump ship and go on a mad dive in an ocean filled with sharks and call him ‘boyfriend,’
Speaking of…
The past few months and weeks have been weird…emotionally strung out, spiritually lifted one moment then…all hell seemed to break loose and…
I will confess I haven’t actually been to church in two weeks.
Somehow I wasn’t feeling it. For no apparent reason.
No , not exactly true.
Something happened to me somewhere in those past five months and I seemed to lose direction, seemed to suddenly slip into depression and anxiety and a whole lot more I personally could not explain .waking up was hard…really hard.
Some days all I wanted to do was sleep all day. Literally!
Other days I was moody and out of sorts and couldn’t stand anyone not even myself.
My dreams were muddled and fuzzy. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go on. My jobs, everything I did or tried to do…seemed hopeless and I didn’t want to do it anymore. Slowly a heavy cloud just seemed to hover over me glide down, hang there and…it only rained on me…while everyone else basked in the glorious sunlight of living… I buried myself in something else…
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing
Because suddenly I felt like someone came in and took my everything away, my creativity, my dreams, my heart, my life. I felt immobile, stagnated…useless. My mind could not for the life of me fixate on anything.
So I face-booked and took coffee.
Even on my last dime.
I made my way to a coffee shop for coffee. It seemed to provide some small comfort. And my friends…
I kept away…I don’t know why...but somehow I didn’t feel anyone would truly understand what I was struggling with. The fight to regain me and chase whoever it was that possessed me then.
Then the bad dreams…the heavy feeling, the weird sensations…
And I knew it was beyond me…this was spiritual. I didn’t understand why after so many years this was happening all over again.
Met my cousin on a Sunday after in I missed church and she told me one thing, ‘pray’
I knew what she meant. She was concerned and could tell something was wrong. The realization brought on the full monty. Depression heightened, lost vision increased, tripled in fact, and the lost-for- life’s-luster just catapulted to another level…
All I wanted to do was die. What was life worth for if I couldn’t dream or write or be me? I kept telling myself.
So I tried one more time and talked to God...told him I needed him to help me out because life was passing me by and I hated how I felt….
I woke up yesterday different…it’s actually been getting better since I prayed. I didn’t say much… I simply let Him Know I needed help. I just needed all this to go away and I needed to be me again, focused, pursuing my dreams, writing again, loving my jobs again. I needed to be me again…
And today…I felt alive… I did things I had postponed for two weeks…
And my heart has been craving for a book. I had one actually…I couldn’t make much sense of it before but clearer head now… I want it so bad…
So its Friday already and at the close of the last movie, I picked up a book that I had read along while ago on dreams, following them, being a dream catcher… flipped through, read a bit and the old nostalgia of me sprung up…me that needed time to go away, alone time to think things through, put them into perspective and brew them then spew them out on a blog or my journal…the old familiar feeling that it was going to be okay was back
My mind was rummaging furiously through the rubble that is, my mind, picking here and there…
Conversations,
Feelings,
Reactions,
Struggles,
The battle within…
And something else came to mind…
Questions
About me, life, people
When I battled my phase of indifference and lack of life luster….i knew no one would understand it…I tried.. and realized no one but God could understand it. The advice varied, ‘pray,’ ‘fight on,’ ‘don’t wallow,’ but no one really reached out deep enough to try and understand the mesh I was caught up in. it wasn’t my own doing, I wanted out, I just couldn’t get out.
I couldn’t blame them. It was deeper than understanding understanding (or maybe not). It was my need for a spiritual experience, a deeper connection… a need to meet with someone that understood deeply without so much as a whole narration of my ordeals to simply put a finger to my ranting lips and say, ‘I understand,’ in a profound way.
Just when I figured who that could be… the clouds started to part…
The book gave me insight too, reminded me why I still needed to live. Why I was important and why mistakes were a part of life and why it could not all be perfect.
I am not sure if I was depressed because life seemed so imperfect, and dreams had so many valley points or that pain and twists and turns in the journey could be so unplanned so totally out of my strict schedule or if it was all one big spiritual battle with God telling me he wanted to come through for me…better still both.
But I do know one led to the other. Now I know that. But as I look at this book and flip through. (I intend on reading it again) I know now, it’s all not easy, the things you love and attaining the mountain height. It all comes with a little pain, a little struggle, a little war and even disillusionment but when you have Jesus on your side, he comes through, he always does.
My life lessons in the past few months…people are not perfect, but love is. Be more accepting. Be more forgiving of you mostly…be less rigid…life can be a joke too, depends on how you look at it.
Enjoy the ride, it is actually fun…that way it’s easy to shake off the disappointments and pain…and above all forward movement….
A friend told me something I decided to take on seriously, ‘sometimes when you want something or you are into something, it’s important to first find out how you feel, block off what everyone else thinks or feels and find within you your answer…that’s the most important step,’ I am doing that too.
Is it giving me peace? Yes, and helping me handle my situations better. Less impulsively
Saturday, November 26, 2011
qns for heaven
why is it that when we want something so bad....it just doesnt come like you hopped it would? or do happily ever afters and the best things in life are just fairy tales but i thought fairy tales mirrored our lives? or was i wrong? hmmm still trying to find out for sure.
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