Its the last day of the month. I have not blogged as much as I had intended to do this month. (New years non-resolving to resolve ever again, down the drain.) I was highly distracted. I'm now making a commitment to change my environment- because I have to stop resisting my nature. I was born with it- and to fight it, has torn me to shreds that leave me all over the place. My brain and my body. So I must give in. Make small changes to help/adhere to the way I am, instead of trying to be something I'm not and constantly beat myself up. JUST GIVE IN :)
If you are lazy, undisciplined, you find no motivation in your mundane day to day- you feel you are not living up to the standards that will propel you to succeed, you are made to believe that it is a bad thing. The thing is- its not good or bad. It is what it is. Change your environment to be conducive to the way that you were born. If you are like me, you grew up struggling and asking questions to yourself about why you couldn't be more productive. You were constantly making lists upon lists of to dos. You tried really hard to follow a strict schedule. You would dream about your perfect day in which you got up early tackled your list, and still had time to relax in the evening. Its the perfect balance that we crave. Alas, it is futile.
There is a down fall. Those people who are highly disciplined and live a structured life also lack in other areas of life. They don't feel emotion as intensely as those that are labeled as lazy or dreamers, or artists. But the artists gain in other areas of lie that fulfill them in different ways. Is it a trade off? Why is that so? They are not as spontaneous and can often miss out on the small details of life that pass them by on the daily. The details in which I find- bring me happiness.
Its all about your perspective. But how to maintain that? Jobless and a horrible economy with hope hard to find on those dreaded wintry days, its hard to come across then sunshine within yourself - (if you will, I know , super cheesy analogy)
There are people in the world with much less than you have. The computer you are reading from. The internet I am utilizing as a vehicle in expressing myself, in offering perspective, is taken for granted. How easy is it for me to call my father half way across the world? To send him a text message? In an instant I can have the gratification I need to fulfill the basic needs of a human being. emotionally and physically. Feel blessed. Count them, one . two. three. You are lucky. Things will get better.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Over than Long Due
I sincerely dont know why the blog dry spell has continued for this long. I spend a lot of time reading all of your blogs, but I fail to contribute to my own . Is it my lack of motivation? Is it that I have so many ideas that I simply cannot pick/ focus on one? Whatever the reason. It must never happen again.
I do know that I have been preoccupied and also trying to redefine the purpose of my blog. I read a quote today about writing that was along the lines of- no one wants to read your diary, except your mother. I can easily write about my daily happenings. I can tell you what I do in a day. What I think. But I refuse. I somehow believe that when I write- it must mean something to me. I cannot ramble. I will bore myself because I know I have more important things to write about. Maybe I am afraid to take that risk.
I once found myself a very angry person when I started writing my shitty first draft for an essay I am trying to compose. You write your first draft without thinking, or editing. You lay it all out there with no censorship. How often do you do that in your writing. Write a shitty first draft about anything on your mind- you would be surprised to see what comes out. Send it to me. I would love to read it. Then I dare you to post it on your blog. If you do this, I will also post my shitty drafts. You will be surprised at what you have to say.
In the past few weeks, I have received two blogging awards. The Lemonade award and the Honest Scrap award.
Thank you Antonella (from the stupidest corner of my mind for the Lemonade award! She claims that I write with attitude, and I say that she writes with emotion. And thanks to Rosemarie from Just Moi .
Here are the rules. For the Lemonade, I must nominate ten blogs which I think show attitude/gratitude. But, I never follow the rules- so here are my top five.
They are:
Goslings Aerie
The Day to Day
Attaining the Unattainable
Just Moi
The Shared Journey
Of course, there are even rules in the blogging world. For this award they are:
1) Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.
2) Show the 7 winners names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with "Honest Scrap."
3) List at least 10 honest things about yourself.
Here goes my ten:
1. If I could have a special talent, I wish I could sing. Sometimes I pretend that I can :P
2. I often get too excited about the cuteness, and cuddle-ability of my kitten that I want to squeeze him until he meows.
3. I check my email at least 20 times a day.
4. I miss being around people that can identify with my heritage/culture.. etc.
5. With the horrible economy and no job, I am wondering if I made a mistake by coming back to the US, when I had a "perfectly good job" in Oman. And when I say perfectly good, it only means that it was paying me money.
6. Sometimes I hesitate to write in fear that the flood gates in my head will spill more than they had intended.
7. I ran into some old friends at the coffee shop today and I was really annoyed to have to make small chat with them. Their lives seems so frivolous in comparison with the things that I am trying to accomplish.
8. I just wrote something really honest, and then erased it. I just broke a rule of the honest scrap award. You can take it back now :p I must always break a rule, don't I?
9. I cannot cook
10. I wish I could have one more day with my mother...
And the honest award goes to:
Attaining Me at Attaining the Unattainable Without going into specific detail of the particulars of a story or an event,This blog describes emotions and moments in life so artistically, and dead on. To the times when you think there is no way to describe that gut feeling, this writer has made the attempt- and succeeded.
The Lil Bee The vibe I get from this blog is nothing but happy. Its terribly cutsey, and I'm all about it.
Biscuit in a Basket I just love the title. Respects are due!
Crystal at Chances are im going to hell for this - Muslim, Jewish It doesn't matter :) Also love the title!
Mars at The Inner Workings of a Media Junkie. Her name is my nickname. She lives in the Arab world - and works there, just as I have. Her experiences I identify with. Media Junkie title more than caught my attention. Much in common!
Okay, I have had enough honesty for one night. I will soon find more in this infinite web of confessions, and all of your lives exposed ... I will find you :)
Maybe Ill get there soon too. Apparently, I am already making the right steps in that direction.
For tomorrow- more motivation. Inspiration in the lovely weather to be expected. In the progress I promise to create.
Love Love,
MY
I do know that I have been preoccupied and also trying to redefine the purpose of my blog. I read a quote today about writing that was along the lines of- no one wants to read your diary, except your mother. I can easily write about my daily happenings. I can tell you what I do in a day. What I think. But I refuse. I somehow believe that when I write- it must mean something to me. I cannot ramble. I will bore myself because I know I have more important things to write about. Maybe I am afraid to take that risk.
I once found myself a very angry person when I started writing my shitty first draft for an essay I am trying to compose. You write your first draft without thinking, or editing. You lay it all out there with no censorship. How often do you do that in your writing. Write a shitty first draft about anything on your mind- you would be surprised to see what comes out. Send it to me. I would love to read it. Then I dare you to post it on your blog. If you do this, I will also post my shitty drafts. You will be surprised at what you have to say.
In the past few weeks, I have received two blogging awards. The Lemonade award and the Honest Scrap award.
Thank you Antonella (from the stupidest corner of my mind for the Lemonade award! She claims that I write with attitude, and I say that she writes with emotion. And thanks to Rosemarie from Just Moi .
Here are the rules. For the Lemonade, I must nominate ten blogs which I think show attitude/gratitude. But, I never follow the rules- so here are my top five.
They are:
Goslings Aerie
The Day to Day
Attaining the Unattainable
Just Moi
The Shared Journey
Of course, there are even rules in the blogging world. For this award they are:
1) Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.
2) Show the 7 winners names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with "Honest Scrap."
3) List at least 10 honest things about yourself.
Here goes my ten:
1. If I could have a special talent, I wish I could sing. Sometimes I pretend that I can :P
2. I often get too excited about the cuteness, and cuddle-ability of my kitten that I want to squeeze him until he meows.
3. I check my email at least 20 times a day.
4. I miss being around people that can identify with my heritage/culture.. etc.
5. With the horrible economy and no job, I am wondering if I made a mistake by coming back to the US, when I had a "perfectly good job" in Oman. And when I say perfectly good, it only means that it was paying me money.
6. Sometimes I hesitate to write in fear that the flood gates in my head will spill more than they had intended.
7. I ran into some old friends at the coffee shop today and I was really annoyed to have to make small chat with them. Their lives seems so frivolous in comparison with the things that I am trying to accomplish.
8. I just wrote something really honest, and then erased it. I just broke a rule of the honest scrap award. You can take it back now :p I must always break a rule, don't I?
9. I cannot cook
10. I wish I could have one more day with my mother...
And the honest award goes to:
Attaining Me at Attaining the Unattainable Without going into specific detail of the particulars of a story or an event,This blog describes emotions and moments in life so artistically, and dead on. To the times when you think there is no way to describe that gut feeling, this writer has made the attempt- and succeeded.
The Lil Bee The vibe I get from this blog is nothing but happy. Its terribly cutsey, and I'm all about it.
Biscuit in a Basket I just love the title. Respects are due!
Crystal at Chances are im going to hell for this - Muslim, Jewish It doesn't matter :) Also love the title!
Mars at The Inner Workings of a Media Junkie. Her name is my nickname. She lives in the Arab world - and works there, just as I have. Her experiences I identify with. Media Junkie title more than caught my attention. Much in common!
Okay, I have had enough honesty for one night. I will soon find more in this infinite web of confessions, and all of your lives exposed ... I will find you :)
Maybe Ill get there soon too. Apparently, I am already making the right steps in that direction.
For tomorrow- more motivation. Inspiration in the lovely weather to be expected. In the progress I promise to create.
Love Love,
MY
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Misery, Lets Agree to Disagree
I'm tormented in my writing. I have a deadline.
Its almost a year later and my entire existence seems to be scattered with tidbits , thoughts and memories of my mother. Anyone who ever said that the pain will subside was wrong.
Its impossible to find focus. I just want to write about her, and everything in my life in comparison to her seems the peak of frivolity.
Last January on this day, I was sitting next to her hospital bed, in a different country, with a different life. I ceased to exist in my selfishness and my entire life could no longer be what it was.
I cant have a single thought or emotion without questioning. Constantly having questions. Questions that I don't think I will ever be able to answer. In comparison, nothing seems real. I don't even know that I am real right now. If one year that changed your life can pass by so quickly, and can simply fade as a memory - what does it mean to really live? We are left with the memories, the pain and the lessons. They just wont go away. You are in idiot if you think you can constantly escape. I have always understood why people take drugs. Constant escapism. Dealing with yourself can be too hard to endure, so just take the easy way instead of actually suffering and learning. One only really learns when they suffer. All of the prophets suffered. No great person in history would have been remembered if they too didnt suffer. Martin Luther, you are remembered today- and tomorrow during inauguration, will be your day.
In those moments of desperation that we all have, the moment you are alone with no one to hear you cry - you remember. The memories come flooding and only then do you want to redeem yourself to the people you love, the people you hurt, the mistakes you have made.You suddenly want to reach out to the world to make your mark in life. Because you realize what is truly important in the end. But its short lived. What would our lives be like if we tried to remember those moments of desperation when we don't feel like it? When we are so wrapped up in our own lives it helps to remember those times.
Brace yourselves.
Its almost a year later and my entire existence seems to be scattered with tidbits , thoughts and memories of my mother. Anyone who ever said that the pain will subside was wrong.
Its impossible to find focus. I just want to write about her, and everything in my life in comparison to her seems the peak of frivolity.
Last January on this day, I was sitting next to her hospital bed, in a different country, with a different life. I ceased to exist in my selfishness and my entire life could no longer be what it was.
I cant have a single thought or emotion without questioning. Constantly having questions. Questions that I don't think I will ever be able to answer. In comparison, nothing seems real. I don't even know that I am real right now. If one year that changed your life can pass by so quickly, and can simply fade as a memory - what does it mean to really live? We are left with the memories, the pain and the lessons. They just wont go away. You are in idiot if you think you can constantly escape. I have always understood why people take drugs. Constant escapism. Dealing with yourself can be too hard to endure, so just take the easy way instead of actually suffering and learning. One only really learns when they suffer. All of the prophets suffered. No great person in history would have been remembered if they too didnt suffer. Martin Luther, you are remembered today- and tomorrow during inauguration, will be your day.
In those moments of desperation that we all have, the moment you are alone with no one to hear you cry - you remember. The memories come flooding and only then do you want to redeem yourself to the people you love, the people you hurt, the mistakes you have made.You suddenly want to reach out to the world to make your mark in life. Because you realize what is truly important in the end. But its short lived. What would our lives be like if we tried to remember those moments of desperation when we don't feel like it? When we are so wrapped up in our own lives it helps to remember those times.
Brace yourselves.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Getting Back
Every time I gripe about how badly I want to leave this city, or about how much the Midwest sucks, I should really drive down I70. As cheesy in writing and in speech as I can get, I must articulate exactly how gorgeous Kansas can be.
1. Sometime this past fall, I saw hundreds and hundreds of birds migrating- but not only were they simply flying in the sky above me, it was the entire picture before me as I was driving. There was a lake, a sunset, leaves blowing, trees in the distance and dark and light clouds of all shapes ... the colors of the sunset contrasted with the darkness trying to linger in was breathtaking. It was as if the dark was asking permission to creep in on the gorgeous glory of the sun, clouds, and hundreds of birds in a V flying on by. The lake was glimmering and my jaw had long been dropped.
2. Tonight, I would have never noticed this lake if it weren't for the moonlight glimmering upon its surface. The sky is clear and the half moon was bright.
3. Void of nature, but my stomach beckoning, I committed the sin of the late night McDonalds run. There in the distance- were the searchlights. (Really? Mcdonalds has search lights?! wow... ) As I'm driving I see the big yellow M in the distance. After all the nature, the M was the perfect sign of our times, and of course I submit to all its yellow and round glory. (Ok, that was a bit much- I hate fast food! Kill me now :p) I had to just laugh out loud.
I really enjoy listening to the BBC at midnight -6am GMT. I can see London bustling around , and everyone trying to get to work when , I'm here, about to go to sleep....
zzz,
my
1. Sometime this past fall, I saw hundreds and hundreds of birds migrating- but not only were they simply flying in the sky above me, it was the entire picture before me as I was driving. There was a lake, a sunset, leaves blowing, trees in the distance and dark and light clouds of all shapes ... the colors of the sunset contrasted with the darkness trying to linger in was breathtaking. It was as if the dark was asking permission to creep in on the gorgeous glory of the sun, clouds, and hundreds of birds in a V flying on by. The lake was glimmering and my jaw had long been dropped.
2. Tonight, I would have never noticed this lake if it weren't for the moonlight glimmering upon its surface. The sky is clear and the half moon was bright.
3. Void of nature, but my stomach beckoning, I committed the sin of the late night McDonalds run. There in the distance- were the searchlights. (Really? Mcdonalds has search lights?! wow... ) As I'm driving I see the big yellow M in the distance. After all the nature, the M was the perfect sign of our times, and of course I submit to all its yellow and round glory. (Ok, that was a bit much- I hate fast food! Kill me now :p) I had to just laugh out loud.
I really enjoy listening to the BBC at midnight -6am GMT. I can see London bustling around , and everyone trying to get to work when , I'm here, about to go to sleep....
zzz,
my
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Rights of time Passage
Im way to tired to even think about what the contents of this blog post will be.
So,
Dear Blog,
I have missed you. I missed you when the New Year came in and new things started happening. I missed you when I decided that eating home made waffles was more important than writing. I missed you when 2009 rang in and everything changed but my computer was off and not to be turned on for I am just too tired. I missed you when everything changed. I missed you when I felt like I had stepped out of myself again. Once I stepped back in, I realized that writing is always the best way to organize/ compartmentalize my thoughts.
Its a new year, but I still cant seem to shake off 2008. I wanted it to stay once I realized that the more time passed by the more I would start to feel pain. I wanted to hold on to the time frame when my mother was still alive. I wanted to still be able to say to people that it had been less than a year since she passed away. I still wanted 2008 because I am not done having a grieving excuse. I dont want February to pass, as all my memories remain as if they were yesterday. 2008 was too heavy of a year for it to simply pass casually in time- its as if it ignored me and went on its merry way without realizing that I am not yet done. I am not done.
Is it that simple? Is that just it? You live, you try to make the best of it all and most times its shitty because you slip and fall slip and fall , pick up the pieces over and over and over again only to realize that your 80 years old and your life is going to end? Or how about just not knowing when you are going to die- but reminded of the guarantee that you someday will?
Thinking ahead and moving forward without having dealt with the past can be dangerous. How would a person know that what they are doing right now is not just a manifestation of how screwed up (or maybe great) their past was? Is your past always meaning to shape you?
I passed by a live shot (news crew) while taking a walk today, and as I had worked with that station in the past, a small part of me immediately wanted to go over and see what the story was all about, talk to the reporter and videographer, not only because I knew who they were, but because I still felt like I wanted to be a part of all that. But my visions have changed, and instead I just walked away. If 2008 didnt turn out the way it did- would I still have had the same career goals? Maybe I would have become compleltey oblivious and never have asked all these questions. I might have turned out to be an entirely different person. But the wind of Tv Journalism did not catch me by storm as it had originally intended. I was on that path. But apparently, 2008 had a different path for me. Now im left with the debris, and 2008 just left me here.
I guess its not dangerous, it was just meant to be.
So,
Dear Blog,
I have missed you. I missed you when the New Year came in and new things started happening. I missed you when I decided that eating home made waffles was more important than writing. I missed you when 2009 rang in and everything changed but my computer was off and not to be turned on for I am just too tired. I missed you when everything changed. I missed you when I felt like I had stepped out of myself again. Once I stepped back in, I realized that writing is always the best way to organize/ compartmentalize my thoughts.
Its a new year, but I still cant seem to shake off 2008. I wanted it to stay once I realized that the more time passed by the more I would start to feel pain. I wanted to hold on to the time frame when my mother was still alive. I wanted to still be able to say to people that it had been less than a year since she passed away. I still wanted 2008 because I am not done having a grieving excuse. I dont want February to pass, as all my memories remain as if they were yesterday. 2008 was too heavy of a year for it to simply pass casually in time- its as if it ignored me and went on its merry way without realizing that I am not yet done. I am not done.
Is it that simple? Is that just it? You live, you try to make the best of it all and most times its shitty because you slip and fall slip and fall , pick up the pieces over and over and over again only to realize that your 80 years old and your life is going to end? Or how about just not knowing when you are going to die- but reminded of the guarantee that you someday will?
Thinking ahead and moving forward without having dealt with the past can be dangerous. How would a person know that what they are doing right now is not just a manifestation of how screwed up (or maybe great) their past was? Is your past always meaning to shape you?
I passed by a live shot (news crew) while taking a walk today, and as I had worked with that station in the past, a small part of me immediately wanted to go over and see what the story was all about, talk to the reporter and videographer, not only because I knew who they were, but because I still felt like I wanted to be a part of all that. But my visions have changed, and instead I just walked away. If 2008 didnt turn out the way it did- would I still have had the same career goals? Maybe I would have become compleltey oblivious and never have asked all these questions. I might have turned out to be an entirely different person. But the wind of Tv Journalism did not catch me by storm as it had originally intended. I was on that path. But apparently, 2008 had a different path for me. Now im left with the debris, and 2008 just left me here.
I guess its not dangerous, it was just meant to be.
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