Pancake Day

This is really, really funny.

Also- today you can get free pancakes at IHOP. click here.

Have a lovely day.

Looking Great

***Attn: Person from Calgary, please step forward and introduce yourself. I see you visit me everyday. ***

This is an attempt to find clarity through writing. Do you ever wonder if its something you ate, or the person you are talking to, or the thoughts in your head -- that keep you from feeling normal? - On any given day?

Today is one of those days. I cant put my finger on it, but something is just not right.

I cant shake it. Hopefully, it wont last. Someone distract me with something concrete to read maybe- put me back in my place in the world? Life is a strange phenomena, and going off of my last post, you- the reader may be able to understand what goes on in my head. This may have something to do with it.

My procrastination is my worst enemy. Its like the big elephant in the room. I need to confront him- and slap him in the face, ordering him to get out.

Ill go for a coffee. Ill take a walk. Ill read a book. Ill continue to write in the face of my unwillingness to focus on one particular "thing"

Peace.
MY

Crisis of Faith

Currently reading: Palestine Peace not Apartheid. Jimmy Carter.
The End of Faith. Sam Harris
Letters to A Christian Nation. Sam Harris
A Million Little Pieces. James Frey


Currently Thinking: Music at starbucks giving me a headache.
Annoyed with stupid people. There is just no excuse.
Need a job Need a job Need a job Need a job
I love my friends. The real ones.

Here is something I wrote.

Life is a big mystery. Been feeling inspired lately and cant shake the questions. - If there were no life or existance, What is there? What is the point of it all? to serve God? If so- What does God Want? To be a good person to yourself and to others? ...Then why is it that not everyone can follow the same rules of a dogmatic religion? Its impossible. We are all created with individual characteristics, heritage, genes, and circumstances. How is it that we are all supposed to follow one formula? It doesnt make logical sense. I was brought up to always think there are rules and guidelines as to how to be a successful person on this journey called life. I was always told how I was to function in order to secure success. I always struggled with trying to make myself believe... But Belieiveing is also, Hard to believe.

Where does ones beliefs derive? From whcih ever they do. are they universal? -- regardless of whatever is worldly attached to that person?

I want to go with the easy answer to what I have always known. To learn about the techings of the prophets in Islam, and to just read the Quran. So my heart can find rest. Yet- there are so many questions.

At some point, one must choose to believe in something- but if that belief doesnt adhere to a specific religion , does that mean that person is doomed to hell? God cannot be a cruel creator, we are his creations, yet we have the choice. The "free will" etc......We are not the ultimate judges, I suppose.

It is a persons choice to look outside themselves and find whatever it is they are looking for. We cannot be force fed a prescription medication. A one way ticket.

Diversity is what makes us human. Its what makes culture. We ALL have a story to tell. Without that story, life would be fruitless/hum drum.

Without all the things that human beings latch onto to give us an identity we are no body. Its like the movie about the boy who goes into the wild and leaves all his belongings and family behind him. In the end he found that Happiness is not real unless it is shared.

Those things are important. And the balance of the material, physical, metaphysical etc. is essential to our discovery about the journey that we are all destined to take., to live.

To say that worldly things are meaningless is ignorant. It is a cop out for the immature person who wants to take the easy way out. – Whichever way it would suit him or her. Those things would not exist if they were not important for our growth. Everything has a purpose? A reason?

The human capacity to THINK, FEEL, ACT, CREATE, AND TRANSFORM is immense. We are all given that ability. The proof lies with in a physical cat scan of our brain. And- we only really use a small part of it.

Sit on it.

Chao for now

Previous Delusions

So, A boring post starts out by telling you how I am doing, and what my day consisted of. My worries, and fears. I would tell you that my Bastian had his rabies shot today. That I have been productive lately. That my inspiration is returning again.

I gave a homeless man one dollar today. I wondered why I wasn't quite satisfied with my act of kindness. Was it because I was expecting him to be more grateful? Does that mean that it was a selfish act? I found myself questioning my true intentions. He also stared at my chest as I handed him the money. Hmph. Maybe that was it.

A thought occurred to me today as I saw some Indian girls talking in Hindi. When we go to a different country we subconsciously think we must stay as we are in terms of dress, but when people from cultures who do not typically dress western, they leave their cultural dress that they were born and raised into behind and dress differently. Why? While I was in Oman, I could have saved myself much social scrutiny by dressing how the locals did. But never did it occur to me to make it a habit. It wouldnt have been that bad after all :)

Two words: The Economy.
Last month, a job loss equivalent to the entire population of the state of Maine?? Are we on the verge of collapse?

What I am about to speak is utter truth. The more sunshine a person gets, the more motivated and better they feel about themselves. Their productivity shoots up. They become more motivated in such an depressing state of the world, their lives... The same applies to exercise. So, move to a warmer climate. OR- you must find alternatives for the sunshine. :) Healthy ones.

Here are some random things I find amusing.

A Solid Moment

I have no words
Words will come.
Words fill my head, my heart fills with tears.
my eyes with pain, my conscious with her memory and then the words come.
The art that has always inspired me, in remembrance of her beauty- of the most true kind- keeps me moving, and thinking, and wanting to live more fully, more passionately.
Without her- I am not me. Without us, There are no words to offer a broken heart, a kindred soul, a burning flame, a love so deep, only words in writing with paper and pen with intricate letters, spellings and curves of dots and lines- would make it suffice. Would keep the art she lived for alive, the passion, the drive, the intensity to gain a knowledge of that desire and a mind waiting to be fulfilled, wanting and insisting to enrapture. It will stay within us. It will be ours, something I know bringing comfort -that you knew what it was like , it is now ours. For the same kind of pens and books of empty papers were also yours - They wont become a has been as long as I remember the flame, it will go on. When I think there is no more to give- the words amazingly start to flow - to no avail, in not knowing where they come from my hand wont stop moving and writing, something it never thought it could do. Just as I thought I was about to give up, she pushes and I feel her here with me and she is here telling me to live. She is strong writing these words for me, and the tears don't stop, and the flow keeps going and I am scared because I don't know where they are coming from, and the pain and hunger in my stomach is curling now but I am told to ignore it and keep fulfilling. One day, just one day...
The power that is in those words start to subside and the passion remains. It is a command I cannot ignore. I will keep going for her, and for me. It will be. It is meant, and I surrender..to you.
Thank you.

In Loving Memory

I have a profound love for the country that I do not know. The country I hail from but have never known, never tasted and felt with my own two hands. But ever since I was a child I have felt it in my heart , beating so strong. I know that this place exists. I also know how it existed, and so happy were the people that were living there. Void of war, but full of love and compassion. Its people are strong willed. They are exuberant, hard working and some of the smartest people I have ever spoken to. Their stories never end. You can sit with any Iraqi- any where on the globe, And be entertained for hours with stories detailing the sounds and smells about this place they grew up in. But now- they feel estranged from that land they still hold so dear to their hearts. It is Iraq. Its a place my parents came from, but one that I never experienced.

Today is the one year anniversary of my mothers passing. Crying - does not suffice, remembering her doesn't take conscious effort. Hearing her voice, and feeling her presence I am used to. Her memory is soaked in my soul. Her words I remember daily. An angel on earth, there are no words to describe what she looks like, or to describe her life. No words are enough for an angel. Yet- even after one year, she is still so alive. Inside of me, I feel her presence. I only wish I could ask her questions about the life she lived. The struggles I face, I wonder if she had the same questions...The curiosity, and the pain.

Iraq is such a huge, yet small part of my identity. I never knew how to answer 'where are you from?' The same patriotism I feel for America, I feel more passionately for Iraq. The human emotion I experience when I think about the place my mother and father spent their younger years releases itself in tears when I hear an Iraqis words in poetry, the writings of both my mother and father. Both of them were poets, writers. The love letters that they shared their entire life, I now hold sacred in a small black box. Bundles of letters and pictures of my parents are spread between my four siblings and I. The adventures across Europe and The United States, Disney Land and the Eiffel Tower. The genuine, bright smile of my glowing mother and her two small children in 1975. Clad in a fur coat, ever so stylish in her kitten heel and perfectly styled hair- I wonder what was she thinking. I inherently sense the immense love she had for my father.

My roots as an Iraqi, I was born with.

I was bred with the intensity and courage to speak for myself as an American.

The two loves I have for America and Iraq seem so separate, yet so alike...

I ran back to the United States after living in the Middle east for reasons which I could not pronounce in the Middle East. In my appearance- it didn't matter. I look like an Arab girl and sound like an American. So who was I to be. I confused others constantly. In turn I confused myself. With Arab social expectations placed upon me because of the superficiality placed on how I look,compared with the standards and rights I knew I was meant to have and be able to practice as a Muslim and an American - I felt with rage in my heart - with the need to express them, the two just could not coincide. How was I to balance both world view points? Lifestyles?
Was I to behave in a manner that I was used to growing up as an American? Or alter my behavior according to how I was 'supposed' to be only because that is how I was projected outwardly? Factually, If I had blonde hair and blue eyes I didn't have to behave the way Arab society expected of me because I would automatically be considered European or American. In respect to my father and to honor my heritage - I chose to embrace it all.

I made some discoveries. I never understood why my mother or father would tell me that I am too harsh, or stubborn. Since the age of 18, I learned to be independent. Before then, I was very dependent on the people around me. I made my own way as I experienced more in life. I learned that I had to speak up, ask questions when I didnt understand and acknowledged that the world wasn't as peachy as I had imagined it to be in my younger and more sheltered days. I created defenses and became more and more jaded towards the emotions that I had once thought would be special and unique. In a traditional Arabs eyes and mind, I maybe was too outspoken. I felt it inwardly and expressed it outwardly- I always thought that was okay, until I went to the middle east and realized that compared to others. I truly was that way- but only as a manifestation of the environment I was bred into.

I was once at the airport in Muscat Oman. I was bitter to come back. I was there for my father only. An old man tried to help me carry my bags that I was completely capable of doing myself. And at his attempt, I immediately assumed that he had ulterior motives. Did it occur to me that he was just trying to be kind? As if I am pre-programmed to think that he is thinking I must be helped because he sees me as attractive, or just simply as a woman. I was reactive and defensive. Looking back, I realize I was unquestionably insensitive and resentful.

These qualms I wished I could have pondered over with my mother... What would she tell me? What would she say or think about the person I have become, and am becoming? Would I be different?

It was meant. And those questions don't matter. Because who I am meant to be has already been decided. I only have the choice to live my best life. She knew this. She would tell me to take it one day at a time, to have faith.

Question

1. Who is from Calgary that continues to visit my blog? who are you mystery person?

2. Why are Ramen noodles so addictive? And resees peanut butter cups? and dark chocolate? Why are all the good/ bad but yummy things in life so bad for you?

3. How many people that are not at work do get up in the morning as if they were going to work? How many people in the world are sleeping in?

4. Has President Obama grayed? How cool is he really? is he really going to put 3.4 million people back to work?

5. How can KC weather go from single digits to 60-70 degrees in one day?

6. In an alcoholics life, is their consumption the root of evil?

* I have better questions to ask, more to come later. *
In the meantime,here is an updated version of my kitten Bastian.





Goodnight.

Change

Change is relative. Change is what you are made to believe must be different. You cannot make change happen by yourself. Can change also just mean evolve? I never think that we change. I think we just simply evolve.

We are not born into the people we are today. We are who we are today because of a decision you made before, and that decision you made , was influenced by someone else's decision, and their decision was also influenced. So you see, its all predetermined. nothing is actually yours, nothing that you think you changed was truly done by you. It is the conglomeration of many CIRCUMSTANCES that were presented before you, and yours, and theirs- before that.

Circumstances have determined everything in your life. You only feel the need to get moving if there is a force, or a purpose in your cause- TO GET UP IN THE MORNING. Free will, does not exist. If we all had free will , then we would be complete products of our nature -and our nature was not determined by us either. Nothing would propel us to move. Do we make our own decisions? Or is it someone else that did for us? Our society? Our belief system that was the rise and fall of who we are today? It is our environment that is the cause and effect of the world around us. It moves you. People move you.

Without each other, -You, Me, who are we?

And those are my random thoughts/rants on change.

Bless,
MY