Monday, January 31, 2011

“There you are standing right in front of me. Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety"





You live in the moment with everything that surrounds you.

You stare ahead at everything you have to chase after.

You look back to see what you have left behind.

You find yourself looking at an empty room,

As if it had always been that way.

A major part of being an adult or adolescent is being too focused on the here and now. We live in the moment and our priority is everything that is around us: Work, education, family, bills to pay, tax deadlines, Doctor appointments to name a few. We are also too focused on looking ahead at the future: Graduation, promotion, Salary pay day, up coming meetings etc. Most of our days are filled with day to day errands and activities that we feel obligated to fulfil. That is the ever day life of an adult, and more importantly, it is what the society expects us to do. When we are paying bills, attending 5-6 meetings a day, trying to catch an early train home before rush hour we are surrounded by numerous other adults who are doing the exact same. In this chaotic day to day life full of ‘grown-ups’, there is a special some-one that we ignore. Sometimes we forget that he is even there. The little child that is waiting patiently and silently for us to glance at him. We ignore ourselves.

There was a post shared with you a few months ago, about remembering your childhood that you can read or re-read here. That post talked about remembering one’s childhood and wishing to return to it from time to time. That happens to each and every one of us, no doubt. We all go through those days when the burden of tragic experience is too heavy on our shoulders and we look back nostalgically at the days of sitting  on a porch eating ice-cream without having a care in the world. This post however is about knowing that there is a child within us all the time. A child who like any other child cries when he is lost in a crowded place. The only difference is that we will run to rescue the neglected child in the crowd, whereas the child within us we will sometimes lose on purpose.

Part of growing is to learn and grasp the idea that making responsible decisions require thinking with a mature mind. A mind that is ready to take on the challenges of the future and prepared for any rollercoaster rides. A mind that can think logically, and can comprehend both sides of the problem. One that has had enough experience to be able to predict what is right or wrong. We find it improper to think with the mind-set of a nine year old. The child that only knows what he loves and what he hates. What he finds safe and what he fears. The one that whines ‘that’s not fair!’ when his desires are not fulfilled. The child that keeps his dreams, fantasies and feelings as his priorities. The one that does not care about conforming to society.

That child carries our hopes and desires and dreams. The hopes and dreams that we thought we had long lost somewhere in the past wrapped in our childhood are actually held firmly in the hands of this child. This child is one who remembers us from our innocent years and who probably knows us better than we know ourselves. When we conform to the society and make important decisions, ignoring this child is not the smartest idea. When we cannot decide on what we want, and just go along with what the society wants or what others tell us, we repress this child. If only we would look inside and ask him what he wants he would tell us what we want. The decisions we make are always going to influence us along with people around us, no doubt. However, we sometimes forget that the people we decide for are also capable of making their own decisions and at the end the one who is hurt or benefitted most by our decisions is ourselves. And if that child can influence our decisions by telling us or reminding us of what we want, then he truly deserves to be heard. The roads we travel on is very bumpy and the directions are never written there for us. It is always up to us to direct ourselves to the places we want to go. And as we all know, it’s not always clear to us where it is that we want to go. Maybe some guidance would be useful. Maybe a peak inside would help.


five year old


Yours Truly =] x

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Blue moon you saw me standin’ alone. Without a dream in my heart. Without a love of my own.


Everybody has one of those days when you just feel sad. Some times you know why you’re sad sometimes you don’t, either way it sucks! Grief is a good thing at times because it can be that rain that comes down on us before the beautiful and lovely rainbow. But at times it’s just a constant throbbing in the heart and it can be very well A N N O Y I NG. We start feeling sad out of the blue and it’s just ugh [for the lack of a better word]. Long story short, I’ve been having those sort of days for the past week, and you can read this post to see why. Whether you’re having a good day or a bad day, it doesn’t stop life from moving on unfortunately [or rather fortunately, depending on how you take it'] and it doesn’t stop friends from trying their HARDEST to make you feel better, no matter how close or far they are, the true ones just don’t give up because they are just AWESOME like that. At this point I would like to shout out to the ones who have been there for me. Thank you, Gracias, Merci, Shukran, Dhannyabad. You all are way too lovely. Also, at this point I would like to address this post to the ones who have been having a bluuuueee day, when the sky seems too low, the moon looks sad and big, the night is dark and silent, the water in the lake is making the quiet slushing sounds like the tunes to a sad love song. Just remember that a blue moon doesn’t always bring a tear to the eye, sometimes it brings a smile and a feeling of awe. Like this one…


I have another set of little pictures to share with you, hopefully they will bring a smile to your face…

be gentle

The mug


take what you need



That’s it for the pictures, sorry if any of them were repeats I have lost track of what pictures I’ve already shared with you and what pictures I haven’t. Ooops!


This is Yours Truly sharing some love with you all x =]

Saturday, January 15, 2011

“This ship is taking me far away Far away from my memories Of the people who care if I live or die”


After climbing two medium sized hills of snow and walking step by step on slick black ice with toes freezing up inside her boots, she finally made it home. There was only about an hour left and if it was like any of the hours this week it would also go by super fast, so she picked up her speed. “I’m home!”, she announced and rushed into her room. A new shirt, a name-badge and a new scarf later she walked into the kitchen to grab a bite of whatever food item her eyes caught sight of first. She glanced over at her mother, tired and relaxed with her fingers curled around a cup of tea staring at her daughter’s chaotic and quick ways of getting ready for work. “Why don’t you call in sick or something, or just say the truth? Tell them that it’s too cold out and the roads are blocked by mountains of snow and the cars stuck in them and that you can’t come to work today”. She paused in the dining room to reply back to her mother. That was the first pause she had had since she started plodding in the snow she realised. “I can’t just call in sick Mom, I only get to work over the weekend. Don’t worry! I’ll wrap up nice and warm before going out side okay?”. Her Mom looked at her and sighed, “You don’t have to take the transit. I’ll drop you off to work”.

That put a halt to her chaotic rushing, and when she noticed she had nothing to do, she sat down by her Mom and took a breather. “I don’t get why you just don’t quit. It’s such a lousy job and it only causes you stress!”, her Mom began. She knew this was coming, after the last weekend’s ‘almost froze myself to death waiting for the bus after work’ incident her Mom hadn’t made any remarks or scolding comments, she had to make up for that someday. She couldn’t have chosen a better day. “I like my job Mom, and I need the money for the trip.”, she replied with hopes that the mention of the upcoming trip would put an end to this conversation. But as they say, Mothers can read minds. They know anything and everything. she was on to her, “You have enough saved for the trip stop lying. You should find another job. Most of your old co-workers don’t even work with you anymore, and you’re always complaining about the new ones who never seem to actually work.” “Mom! I like my job. I like the money. I like that it keeps me busy on the weekends or else I’d be sitting at home getting fat on your cooking.” She thought she could lighten the mood with that reply and gradually change the topic but her Mom was not letting that happen, “The store is always dead. You have been there for too long now and been through a lot in that store. It’s time you moved on kiddo. Find a new job, a different type of retail maybe, you like electronics, why not try Best Buy. It’ll be a nice change.” her Mom was so hopeful that it almost made her say yes just to see her tensed brows relax and a smile of relief to light up on her face.  She took a minute to think and then braced herself to say the last few lines that would seal the conversation, “I like the fact that I’m the oldest worker there now other than Doloris and most of all, I'm gaining work experience. You know the university likes students who are somewhat independent if not completely independent and don’t rely on their parents for everything.” The topic of University was something no-one argued over too much at her house. ‘You do what you have do to get into University’ was how it went.

There was a silent moment between the two during which all the tiny voices could be heard. The ticking clock, the clicks of her Mom’s ring as she tapped her hand back and forth on the mug. If you listened closely enough, you could even hear the churning sounds from the furnace by their legs. From the kitchen there was the tip tap of the water droplets in the sink. These are the little sounds that we always seem to ignore. The tic-toc, the churning, the taps, the water droplets hitting the stainless steal surface of the sink. These faint sounds are often draped by the loud noises of the TV, computer, people talking, footsteps, cooking. Other sounds that are more significant, hide the little clutters and creaks that we are surrounded by round the clock. 

The conversation had ended, and her Mom got up to leave the dining. She went to put on her coat and out the door to warm up the car and clean off the bit of snow that had covered the windows.After her Mom closed the door behind her, she thought of a flood of things she could have said should have said. It’s not about the money. It never was about the work experience. It’s about the memories. It’s about the day Paige and I started working there, with the excitement of having a job together. It was about the Friday night’s shifts, much like the one I was going to work tonight that are dead and slow, we would sit up on the counter for hours and just talk. It was about the times when we thought we were going to get robbed by the two German men, pacing about the store with no intentions what so ever to buy anything, who ended up leaving when Paige pretended to call the ‘Security Guard she thought was really good looking’. It was little memories like these that I veiled behind significant and more valid reasons like, saving up for a trip and gaining work experience. It was the one little string I could grasp on to that would give me the comfort of remembering the good times spent with her. To know that even though she is not here now, she used to be. She influenced the way this store looks, and the way I handle tough situations at work. Her presence was basically everywhere in my life, but I felt it here more. I felt it in a way that comfort me and I don’t want to give that up.

Getting to work wasn’t hard that night, courtesy of the Mom who dropped her off. It was the getting from one end of the store [the main doors] to the other end [staff room]. Small, medium, large and extra large cardboard boxes were everywhere, and in the corners by the walls were some of the shelves, tables and hooks. There were clothe items folded and numbered stacked up in the boxes. Some boxes were taped shut with a white sheet on the front of them that read: Shipping back to head office: Mississauga, Ontario. Once she made it passed the front doors and inside the store, she saw empty walls and packed boxes all around. It almost looked as if someone had moved in or someone was moving out. In the back room was Doloris, her lovely manager who was instructing a man about where to put the shelves and which warehouse they’re going to. She waited for them to finish their conversation and then asked with somewhat of a dry throat, “Doloris, what’s going on?”. Doloris looked her straight in the eye with a dreary and a sorry and said, “There’s some bad news hun. The company owner had some sort of an argument with the landowner and the store is shutting down.” Doloris swallowed hard after breaking the news to her and then let out a sigh of relief as if she was glad to have had it off her chest now and walked away. She took the news in with a deep breath but not so much a surprised look. The store was having very bad sales for the past months, so it wasn’t surprising to any of the workers that the store was going out of business. Finally. Later that night, Doloris told her as they packed boxes that she had already been offered another job and that she wasn’t upset about leaving this company. She was upset about leaving her. After Paige left them, they had shared many moments of grief, silence, deep and touching conversations that were all coming back as tears in Doloris’ and her eyes. They packed away some of the boxes in silence. Sometimes they would pack and talk about how bad the business was and make sarcastic jokes about the company’s pathetic policies. They would sit and rest for a few minutes and talk about the good times and the bad times the staff members shared. They would never talk about the good times and the bad times they shared. Those conversations were part of the silence.

Another fact  about Mothers is that they are always right. The products were being packed away and shipped off to Mississauga, Ontario and it was time for her to pack up her memories: the smiles, laughter, cries, moments of silence, talks, learning, experiencing and much much more that has to be packed away in a box. This was the sort of push a company usually needs to work hard. When a store branch of the company goes out of business because of whatever argument there was with the landowner and how down-the-hill the business was, it’s usually a wake up call to work hard. If one idea isn’t working, move on to the next. It also turned out to be a little push she needed. To move on to something new and detach from this string also, just as she cut off from oh, so many others.


Yours truly sharing a Friday Night’s Tale

Peace and love x =]

Saturday, January 1, 2011

“No fear of heights, no fear of the deep blue sea, Although it could drown me, I know it could drown me…”

crowded room

When a close friend is in mourning of someone dear to them, we console them. We feel their pain, or at least try to and we give them time to heal, because that’s all we really can do. But after a while has gone by and we see them still frozen in time and living with grief, a little voice inside our heads says something. Something we feel terrible about, but can’t help but think: It has been so long since they passed away. Isn’t it time that they stopped grieving? We think to ourselves that maybe this is going too far. It has been quite a while since the incident and it’s about time they picked themselves up and kept walking. We tell them that they should move forward and live in the present instead of the past. We refer to the one who’s passed away and say that, they have moved on and they would expect the same from you. It makes perfect sense. It’s not healthy to grieve for too long and also, we just want to see them happy again. Ah yes, we want them to smile like they did before it happened. We want them to talk with the same enthusiasm and energy as they did prior to it. Although it feels like a horrible thought, to push someone to move on, we do it with clean intentions. We do it just to see some happiness and joy in their lives, and we think that they can’t have that if they keep living in the embrace of their loss, and keep reliving the past. And there is nothing wrong with that. It’s okay to want to see the sun shine on your friend.

When people tell us to ‘move on and keep going and be happy’, we sometimes feel pressured. Though we haven’t gotten over the loss yet, we can sense that we have made it uneasy for our friends and family. They are running out of words to sooth our grief, and they are starting to feel that all the hugs and moments of silence aren’t helping anymore and the advice they give us, is picking up that ‘clich├ęd’ effect. They desperately want to see us smile, so we smile. They want to see clear bright eyes, so we cry on the inside. They want us to keep walking so we put on our shoes.  When they talk about the ones who have left, we clench on the corner of the chair but we don’t cry. When they look back at some of those moments that bring with them a flood of memories, we brace ourselves and stretch the corner of our lips upwards as much as we possibly can. And when we drive by that one place where we spent hours of the evening just laughing and talking about nothing and everything, we make a U-turn and take the other route. We feel that for the sake of the loved ones who are still alive, we have to put a pause on the grieving of the ones who have left. Because, the ones who we are with now deserve our smile just as much as the ones who have passed away deserve our tears.

‘Time goes on and time heals all wounds’, and most of the time the wounds are healed when we are not paying attention. We don’t realise that putting a pause on the grieving process is not going to pause the time. Time will go on, and  when we’re too busy trying to fake a proper smile we eventually begin to smile truly. On one of the days, instead of just saying, “I’m okay” we’ll feel okay as well. The next time we come across one of those memories we will be able to laugh and remember the good ol’ days. On one of the days we won’t have to signal a U-turn. On one of the days we’ll let go of that corner on the chair and realise that we are far from the grief and now all we hold in our hearts the memories of a time well spent…It’s change isn’t it? Experience. Patience. Losses. Gains.  It all comes together in the end to make us who we are. A learned person. A patient person. A person who has lost and a person who has gained. A person who has just stepped into a new year with hopes. dreams. memories. healing scars. laughter. pain. And everything else that makes us…human. And we step into a new year, with a thought in mind, a kind of a promise or a ‘resolution’ you may call it. We promise and we hope that this year will turn out better than the last. This year will bring out the best in us. This year we’ll be more experienced. This year we’ll be more patient. This year we’ll be more human.
In the beginning of December, 2010 I read a book called, The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler. Phenomenal book! I recommend it to all of you lovely people who read this post. There is a quote in that book, which brings it all together in the end and really hits the nerve.
These are the words of a man who has experienced a great loss, the death of his only son, Ethan. Take a look…
And if dead people aged, wouldn't it be a comfort? To think of Ethan growing up in heaven -- fourteen years old now instead of twelve -- eased the grief a little. Oh, it was their immunity to time that made the dead so heartbreaking. (Look at the husband who dies young, the wife aging on without him; how sad to imagine the husband coming back to find her so changed.) Macon gazed out of the cab window, considering the notion in his mind. He felt a kind of inner rush, a racing forward. The real adventure, he thought, is the flow of time; it's as much adventure as anyone could wish. And if he pictured Ethan still part of that flow -- in some other place, however unreachable -- he believed he might be able to bear it after all.”  
- The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler
move on 
my lfe
turn the page
Yours Truly Winking smile x