The Bright Side Day 267

The end of the year is almost upon us. The recollections of the year, the things we did and places we've been, the events which shaped 2013 are everywhere. Everyone is counting what we survived, what we lost, where we're headed. Or maybe just looking at who we've become.

So today I met myself... again
I looked into the mirror and said hello
I looked at my eyes as though I was a stranger
I expected to see the hardness of experience
And saw the surprise of innocence

The simple dimples that surround my shy smiles
The strength in the arms that worked without question
The faith in the warmth of my tears
Expected the fear of trusting, the questioning
And found the steadiness of my intention

The old regret, the what-if's and blind wishes
Fell into the abyss of my shadow
And I watched the light fill up it's void
Indescribable, unquestioning choosing to be
I watched the comfort in loving despite the hurt
Of dancing despite the obstacles..
Of discovery despite the falls...
Writing a story... living my legend
My reflection smiled back and said
"Let's go..."

-RKS

The Song Day 266

There is a song that I heard today and it transported me back to another era. Another time in my life, when I was younger and while it felt distant and so different from today, that song was a connection to that self. There is so much emotion tied into music sometimes... we imagine certain people, attach experiences to a rhythm, a tune... a way for us to identify with the lyrics. And without knowing it, that song represents a time of our lives, a scrapbook memory of our life.

There are some songs I have gotten perhaps overly attached to. So much so that when that time in my life ended, I couldn't bear to hear them. And today I heard a song I have not let myself hear in quite some time. And yes, I had the sudden jolt of the not-so-magical time travel to the past, and unfortunately the heart ache associated with it...and just as I was going to change it, I decided to sing along with it. Just go with this wave of nostalgia. And somewhere in between, the sudden ache in my heart, travelled up to my face and turned into a smile. The smile of the good times that came before the bad.. the smile of the distance we've travelled... the sort of sympathy which you can feel for yourself, when you let yourself. The weight lifted, the memory resurrected - I was able to enjoy the song for the reason I liked it in the first place!

So yes, me being me had to write a blog about this. It isn't any remarkable discovery but it's just the notion that we're forever trying so hard to be happy and positive, but sometimes we should let ourselves reminisce, be a little unhappy - go through a memory that we might think is more painful than it is. Be sad, be a little quiet... and maybe it will help us accept things which we sometimes make larger than life in our minds and by the pangs of pain we felt in the time they occurred. How can we be happy, truly happy with ourselves if we are afraid...afraid to mess up, or be hurt, or to even acknowledge our faults? It's a small thing.. but today if I hear that song... I don't think the first thing that will come to mind is that pang of pain... I think, I can skip that part and just.. smile.

A conversation Day 265

Can we take the masks of politeness off now? 

Can we sit down and have a conversation now

One that isn't just a game of the right words to be said

One that might not even need any words.

Can we stop pretending, wearing these scared smiles

Can we let the tears fall from our eyes, accept our disappointments?

Can we move as we want, speak as we must, without fear?

Can we embrace our complexities and exist in simplicity?

Take only what we need from one another.

Can we break these walls down, and not be ashamed

Not hide from our mistakes or be afraid to make more.

Can we remove these rules we play by

Can we follow the pulls of our heart

Give in to the gravity that keeps us grounded

Reach out and move with the air that gives us flight?

Can we be broken and beautiful

Can we skip the dance of speech and etiquette

And say what we mean, not speak to hurt nor conquer

Nor worship or claim, nor adore or judge...

Just say what we must and find what we look for.

Can we show each other the dark corners we hide in

And not be afraid of the other making weapons of them?

Can we trust forgetting the past that has scarred us

And be together in a crowd, and alone when we're together

With each other when we're without and yet without the need to be with

Can we take these masks of curtsy and sweet politeness off

Can we sit down and have a conversation now?

- RKS

The Strange Day of Calmness Day 264

I had a strange day yesterday. Lots of weird incidents where you feel the Gods are trying to tell you something. Started off the morning by being stuck in an elevator, even though just for a few minutes, was a little jolt of how much we depend on electricity and how quiet darkness can be.

Crossing the street on a one way street, and a guy randomly reversing missing me by a quarter inch! And then the cherry on top,  getting to my train and in a couple of minutes being evacuated by cops as they found a package in my train with canisters and wires.  After an hour of waiting, and it being scanned, the bomb squad coming in and clearing it out for us, I was able to make it home.  What are the chances of all these things happening on the same day?

What got me thinking is how I reacted to these things. Being evacuated for a bomb, or being struck or any of these things should invoke some reaction in me. Maybe fear? I don't know... I didn't feel it. As sad as it is, it seems so everyday now, everyday seems to be walking into a danger zone, just by taking my normal commute home.

I don't have a death wish, but I have found when these situations happen, I notice how the mind shifts from what needs to be done, to what HAS been done. And I had a sort of peace about that... I don't think I have ever shied away from telling people how important they are to me. I have never held myself back, have tried to experience all I can. I know how I feel and those who are important to me, know that as well. There are so many days I have gone through battling challenges and life and collected some scars and lessons, but never regrets. And maybe, that's why I don't feel fear of death... every day is a new chance for us to say something, do something. And sometimes to not say something, to be with yourself, and forgive yourself for whatever needs to be forgiven. We often judge ourselves the harshest, push ourselves the hardest.. and some days it's good to be a little selfish, to be a little proud or vain, and believe you're a pleasure to have in this world. Faults, flaws, inhibitions, limited...whatever we are... we are, and we have a right to every day and every breath of air, for as long as it fills these lungs, we have a right to live. So maybe.. today let's try living a little, before the sand in our hourglass runs out, for what else is there?

The Fourth Wall Day 263

The fourth wall is what they call the separation between the audience and the traditionally "three sided boxed stage". This imaginary wall which separates the two, there is the observer and the actor. The birth to "interactive" theater was aimed at breaking this down. The players mingle with the watchers, the show unfolds within you. The actors look at the audience for props, the story is so real you need to be part of it... not just quietly watching, but moving with them in the river of their emotion, in the scenes unfolding around you.

It is like being part of a movie, where you don't know the script, but when everyone moves, you move... when the space around you changes, your focus too changes. The mind tries to keep up with all that is unfolding and is perhaps truly the most present when all your senses are in this room, in this act when that wall is torn down.

I have had this experience twice now, most recently was an enactment of the "midsummers night dream" in the most interesting of ways :) It did remind me though of this fourth wall... this separation which is sometimes necessary and yet changes everything when it is not there. I guess that is where mystery dinners or some plays which allow the audience to be the jury and depending on their verdict, changes the outcome of the evening... all of these things, which make the audience relate more, feel part of the ups and downs of energy in the room.

It's an interesting approach to force the audience to  be more than just that... an audience. Rethinking of theater, to me - it makes the performance so much more alive. The players are feeding off the energy and reactions of the audience. There are no limits, you are with the character, and the character is with you, and you are on a crazy adventure together.

Walls are built to constrain us, in some ways for the good, some ways for our personal needs... every now and then though, when these walls - personal or metaphorical are tore down - we're often left in the raw element of ourselves and it is always exciting, reminding us of the endless possibilities, when we give in and let all our senses react.

Madiba Day 262

It is hard to grow up in Southern Africa and not be aware of Nelson Mandela - or Madiba as he is more popularly known over there. There is a lot that comes to mind when I think of him and when I sit down to pen some words in his memory, I draw a somewhat blank.

There are some people who impact our lives simply by their existence - their beliefs seem so unreal, their humility makes you feel small and their words inspire you. The true heroes which walk amongst us, not that they have no weaknesses or faults - but that they have perseverance, a sense of what they must do and they do it, for there is no other way to be.

When my parents moved to South Africa in the early eighties, I heard stories of how apartheid had affected them. Now that I am older, I do recognize some things which I didn't pay attention to. Pretoria being a restricted area, it used to be on older passports - cannot enter pretorian zones if you're not white. Irony is today Pretoria is the capital of South Africa. I am not here to write a blog on the virtues of a country or how great or lacking it is. It isn't a blog to commemorate or outline the greatness of a leader and how he protected a country that could have been swallowed up in violence once the apartheid ended, once the repressed got a foot holding... no, I am just here to talk of a man who I grew up in the shadow of.

The man whose autobiography I read at a young age and I remember his words saying (paraphrasing here) that the character and strength of a person is not weighed by how many times they don't fall, but how many times they get up when the do fall. He spoke of teaching people to love as surely as they have learnt to hate, there must be a way to find the good within us. He spoke of education and children... he wore his famous colorful shirts which would always shine bright among the suits and other politicians on TV. He had a smile, and a kindness in his eyes...and what made it amazing was that he had seen the darkness of man. He had been in a prison for so many years, he had seen his family harassed, his own child die while in prison, so many heartaches and hardships and to still choose to come out with hope. To have a purpose, to lead those that have hurt, to show a new way - a new direction to think.

To have so much conviction in a thought - that is what amazes me. How many thoughts can we say have motivated us to achieve something beyond the ordinary? The thing is, we are all capable of doing just about anything. There are heroes hidden inside us, each one of us - they say behind every revolution is only just one man and it is true... behind anything that has the power to move or change us or the world around us...the only thing behind that amazing force which makes an ordinary person into a great hero is just.. .one thought.

Rest in peace Madiba... you along with all the inspiration you gave me, introduced me to several poems you quoted which I have mentioned in this blog as well. So to end this blog, with some words that once moved you and through you, reached me:

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul. 

The Tree Day 261

The Christmas Tree has found it's way home today - a Frasier fir this time. Enjoying the smell of pine - set it up, still need to decorate tomorrow. There is always a little bit of excitement carrying a fully grown 7 foot tree into your living room! Somehow stealing a piece of the outdoors, it's like a guilty pleasure. There is some part of us which just loves being one with nature. 

Yes, while I am a nature enthusiast and a lot of my blogs have indicated this... I still say so. In a lot of decor, there is a strong nature influence. The idea of sleeping under the stars - while it appeals to some on a basic level as going camping or sleeping on a roof, there is another "luxurious" extreme of glass windows etc. Being close to the ocean or in a forest or mountain. Is it because we are all worn out of the concrete jungle and we find true serenity and quiet of the mind when in these surroundings? Or is it just a change of pace, a different view?

There are those who swear by the city life, but even these people have their "spots". Every city has it's tie to nature - the river, the ocean, the state park nearby... something. We all look for that thing... I don't know what else to call it but nature.. but truly it's an elemental thing. It's what you want when you're alone.. it's what you search for and incorporate into your life without realizing it, the subconscious appreciation of the sunset or sunrise... the waking up to snow covered streets, the smell of rain in your busy day. I dunno - something, somewhere always ties us down to that elemental state... cuts through all our logical and self-imposed cages of civilized behavior and reminds us that we're children of the earth.

So long winded blog to say the tree is here, and for the next few weeks, I am excited to have that elemental enigma right in the middle of my living room :)

Trudging Day 260

December already...  for some reason, the end of the year always makes me feel somewhat nostalgic. A year has come to be a measure of time to look back on, to remember where you were last year, where you are today. To see how much you have achieved, and what you haven't. To understand better from a distant vantage point that might have baffled you earlier. Somehow, it all falls into place. We even learn to accept what we don't understand. And if we pivot on our now, and look ahead, it seems like a clean start awaits. The unwritten stories, the challenges we can present to ourselves, new goals... new memories. New plans, good intentions, keeping old promises. It's not the end of the year yet... still one last leg to go, the month of holiday, cheer, lights and decor. Of renewed faith or just shopping nightmares :)

It's been a cold weekend and a lot of thoughts have come and gone... but there has been a constant feeling, a constant awareness of the now. Maybe it's the silence of the leaves that have fallen, or the quiet of the birds that are scarce now. The shorter days, even the sun hanging it's hat earlier now. Somehow this time period, before the white snow has covered the ground, while all is bare - this transition period leaves me feeling a little restless. Like things need to be done now, instinct pushing us toward our own form of hibernation, perhaps?

Well, I do try to think of the good things that come around with winter. And recently I was reminded of fireplaces. And a flood of memories came back to me... the smell of roasting marshmallow, the white and pink delights. Roasted just right, a little brown. The gathering around the black metal fireplace that was the only source of heat while growing up. I remember putting my feet up on the chimney and reading plenty books there. The quiet just disturbed by the cracking of wood. The bucket of coal... my white kitten running up the chimney one morning and coming back black covered in soot :) The sleepovers where we would gather our pillows and comforters, and sleep in front of the glowing embers. It has been a while, but there is something very comforting about that burning fire in the house. The small things which keep us warm, bring us closer... and keep us going trudging through these harsh wintry nights.

Cold Nights Day 259

Time seems to be on its own path recently. Everything seems to have come at once, the end of the year, the winter, the things that must be done, the things that are done. And here I am trying to grasp onto one day, one moment and be with myself.

Been a stormy day today and the whole landscape has changed. The leaves have fallen, the trees bare, gritting themselves against the cold wind that beats on them. No birds or animals out, the cold is here.. and we must find ways to wait for it to pass. Hibernate, stay steady, hold on... whatever it is, nature seems to come to a standstill on wintry nights. And in the stillness that surrounds those cold nights - that stillness sometimes seeps into me. And thought pours out in the form of nostalgia, in the form of contemplation... quiet mind, quiet thoughts. Thoughts vaporizing in the cold air.

I see you in a field, the sun shining on your shoulders
I see you running barefoot on the dusty path
I see you laughing, laughter that I hear seldom
I see your innocence dancing alongside you
The way you move, free...and beautiful, I see you.

I see you playing with the stones on the bank
Their warmth seeping through your feet, your eyes closed
I see you smiling as you take in all thats around
I see your dreams, your passions raising you up
The way you move, confident and happy, I see you.

I see you in the shades of joy that radiates within you
I see your eyes play with the sun as they captivate me
I see you embracing the moment, loving without fear
Holding on without prejudice, forgiving without judgment
The way you move, light and wise... I see you...

I see you in my minds window,
Like a friend I haven't met in a long time
Like a love I lost too soon, a regret I kept hidden
A moment I forgot, like the secret I never said...
I see you like a reflection, like a story...
I see you...looking back at me.

- RKS

Times Gone By - Part II Day 258

I did say I would do a second part of this blog and so here are a few more things that seem to have disappeared...

1. Walkman
The clunks of plastic have now been replaced by super tiny processors which carry uncountable number of songs and media. But there was a time, the walkman was a big deal. I remember having my "brick" size walkman which I could clasp to my waist. I would always use up the alkaline batteries too fast. You could always tell when the songs vocals started getting a little out of tune. There were the clunky headphones too that went with the whole look. "Walkman" - always struck me as an interesting name for an audio player. I guess the walk portion symbolized the portability - not sure about the rest.

2. Maps
The times before GPS's - when we would pick up AAA maps and plan out trips days in advance. Figuring out road names etc. There was no magical "re-routing" - if you missed a turn, it was kind of bad. When the internet did come about, we got one step closer - getting on the phone and asking someone to look up directions on google maps. Also, the word "detour" or "road closed" would not be so easy to deal with. Atlas's - these I know are still around, but I do remember using them a lot more. The fascination just progressed to Google Earth I guess :)

3. Payphones
I don't think these are extinct - maybe in the endangered zone. These used to be a lot more popular. We would have "long distance calling" booths too. Calls being so expensive, you'd sometimes have to rehearse what you were going to say! But seriously, when is the last time you put quarters into a payphone and made a call?

4. Phonebooks
Another "endangered" one - I see them everywhere, but more often than not, I see them unopened, unused. There used to be a time near every phone (the solid chunky, long wire that would keep getting longer to provide you with a leash to move around) you would see a phonebook.

There are so many small things I see that are here and then they are not. Everyday we're moving forward in ways that sometimes we don't even realize because we're adapting so quickly. When jogging through memory lane, they are the details you don't think too much of.  There are telegrams, I think video stores are almost done as well, then the  clunky tv-sets with antennas. I do remember us having a large antenna on our roof and when the wind would blow too hard, the reception would go...well, with the wind. We had a rope tied to it, and I could climb on a chair, and slowly move it, while someone inside would say, "a little more, almost...almost... STOP!"

There are things that are part of our today that will not be of our tomorrow. Is moving forward a good thing all the time? I don't know - there are some things which I haven't been able to let go. For instance, the smell of a book... the touch of the paper in my hands, the smile I get whenever I see handwritten letters... writing them myself whenever I get the opportunity. I guess some things you just don't want to say goodbye to... and some are better remembered, as.. times gone by.

Scissor Tails Day 257

Scissor tail birds... I remember the fluttering of them at my window in the morning. Long tails with their ends splitting and gaining them the name they are called by. They were so common in my surrounding, anytime it was spring you would see them all over. And now, I don't. I now see red cardinals... bright red fluttering in the space around me. Catching my eye with their bright color... their contrast striking, always capturing my attention. I wonder how long it would be before they too fade into the ordinary.

We've had two herons nesting near our backyards and almost every morning, I get to see them glide across the water, their large wings spread, commanding the air. Birds have in a way embodied freedom to be. To be able to fly in the air, to go where-ever the desire be, to see the world from above... to soar and feel the wind against you. And while I sit here and gaze up at the stars and moons, the beautiful sky I cannot soar at my own will with... I wonder if even that novelty would fade into the ordinary given enough time.

Does everything we have slowly become part of the "normal" and we stop appreciating the beauty in it? Is understanding something, no longer valuing it - the desire the true captivator of our interest... the gaining, just an accomplishment, leaving room for our next wish... the insatiable quest of happiness. We project our own happiness in so many ways, we imagine we can be happy if we had the following things... there is an endless search for things desire. And sometimes so little in remembering how many of these that we've already gained.

I have the memory of those scissor tail birds, cowering inside a hedge... and the birds travel with me... for now I have a sparrow tree where the birds they sing to me whenever I stop to listen.. the red cardinals who dance around me and the herons that humble me. I am capable of experiencing so much by just being the observer.

So even though I sometimes see the birds that surround me, and think of their travels.. when I imagine a life with wings, the freedom of the air... I realize that I am made of this mud and I am made to marvel that which I am not, as what I am... is marvel enough.

Tis a Funny World Day 256

On my way home on the train today, our train driver was saying out the names of the station as though we were all in a Harry Potter movie. The British accent, the "promise of magic" lingering... are we at Central Station... or "CENTRALLLLLLLLL.... Station...." Just a little down the road and you can jump into Wonderland. Ironically that is a name of a station too :)

Anyway, it's not the first time I have been on a train with this guy and while his enthusiasm does make me smile, it's also interesting for me to observe how others take it. There are the quizzical looks, the shy smiles dancing, the downright laughter and among it the appalled, the head shakers, the almost angry and very annoyed. A simple scenario and such a spectrum of emotion. Maybe the way our day turned out, or what's going on in life is determining the reaction... maybe it's just personality or different sense of humors. I don't know... but in a train of random strangers (seriously we cover all kinds in just my normal commute, best survey material) - it always strikes me how different we are. How each one almost zones out to their own world, and then something happens - one crazy incident, one funny announcement and there is almost like a zapping out of your zone and your eyes connecting with someone and you share a thought.

Experiences are a funny thing... we can't all have the same thing, even if we physically went through the same place, same situation, had the same number of hours of sleep. I do get tragedies and responsibilities and weights on our shoulders, the uncertainties...and amongst this crazy day we spend chasing self imposed deadlines or disappointments of things we have decided to want, mourning over that which we can't change - in between this day, there are so many little things happening around you... and sometimes, even if it's "silly" or "small" or just someone else's joy - maybe we should just let our mind be at rest for a second - and laugh... smile. Who knows, we all might end up on the Hogwarts express again and if we behave, we'll all go to Santa's workshop... hmm, that might be the start of a scary story...!

Okay, lets leave this here for tonight... sleep well, smile tomorrow - especially if you don't want to.

Courage Day 255

"Courage! What makes a king out of a slave? Courage! What makes the flag on the mast to wave? Courage! What makes the elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist, or the dusky dusk? What makes the muskrat guard his musk? Courage! What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder? Courage! What makes the dawn come up like thunder? Courage! What makes the Hottentot so hot? What puts the "ape" in apricot? What have they got that I ain't got?" 

This quote is by the cowardly lion from the "wizard of oz". I got a little bit of a late start on watching a lot of movies and this was one of them. I was 16 and it came up in a conversation and my friend was appalled that I had not seen it. So I was marched off to her living room and she put on the video tapes (yes this is giving me a flashback of my times gone by blog :)) and we watched. She got tired in a little bit claiming it was more exciting when younger, but it still somehow captured my attention even at that age. This little monologue is one that really got me thinking then and when I think of courage... it never fails to come to mind. 

The Cowardly Lion always seemed to be looking for courage outside of himself instead of within. And when he did stop to look within, he found an immense well of it. We imagine being strong or courageous means not being afraid, not being affected, but it is quite the opposite. Courage is not the absence of fear... it is the ability to go beyond it. To not hide in your fear, but to conquer the obstacles which make you most afraid. To move forward even when there is no promise ahead. To choose to not be bitter even when you've been wronged. Courage is to love when you've been hurt before, to trust when you've been betrayed. To be yourself even when you're judged.

If there was no fear, there would be no courage... if there was no darkness, there would be no need for light. If there was no pain... there would be no joy. Like everything in life, the good and bad are balanced, everything exists because there is a need for it. And as there is a need for it, so there is existence... battles are to be fought and some to be left behind. In our loneliest moments, we find the deepest contemplations...and with some sprinkle of courage we decide which side we want to stand on.

Stray Thought Day 254

I was surrounded once again by the majesty of trees. This time was very large maple trees. They had the largest leaves I had ever seen. There were tall, confidently shooting up into the sky. I kept thinking of one of Gibran's quotes that stuck in my head...

"Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky. We fell them and turn them into paper that we may record our emptiness."

There is so much beauty out there that we "spoil" in some ways to proceed. It's our "natural" way to survive I guess. We are so used to our comforts and advancements, everything is at our fingertips for our use, for our consumption. And yet, having such intelligence and gifts, to channel things, to not worry about basic survival, we are not happy.. There is some piece of satisfaction that leaves us when we're not able to put our bodies and minds at use equally. Work our muscles, feel the peaceful sleep of a hard day's work. The confidence of being able to support and care for ourselves, for others..

Sometimes it feels like there should be no more emptiness, no need to pen down emotions... for what better way to live this moment than to experience it. To look up at the trees and see their drifting poetry and be part of it... channeled in, in tune.

The Sweater Day 253

Someone very close to me once told me of Aran sweaters (also known as fishermen sweaters). It was something new to me, to hear of these thick knit sweaters that would come with intricate designs tying together families. Apparently, in the olden days families all wore the same design in their knit patterns. The idea being that if ever lost at sea while fishing, people would know what family they were from if found in sea or washed up on the beach. And even now with so many generations passed, there is a sort of history tied to this Irish tradition. You can find your "clan" stitching, find a bond to the kinds of people, the poets, scholars, the fishermen that you descended from...be able to trace the footsteps left behind.

Knitting has been something I was introduced to at a very young age. Growing up in a small valley, we didn't have much to do in the cold, winter evenings. Knitting was a good way to keep the fingers warm at the very least. Plus, we'd get new sweaters for the school year. I have always been amazed at how we're able to create wool in so many textures, let alone with two metal needles convert it into pieces of art. Slow and laboriously, one stitch at a time, in a rhythm, with the right tension in the wool, we create.

So when I did hear of these Aran sweaters, I did look up their patterns. They have to be some of the most complex stitches I have attempted. I don't know if it's just me... but I somehow have found so much art and poetry of sorts in almost everything I have been exposed to. Knitting is not any different. Almost everything in life can be a metaphor including a sweater.. is it just a piece of clothing or is the story of a woman knitting her family pattern, learnt through the generations? Is it a child learning how to pick up fallen knots, learning of patience? Is the simple joy of a kitten converting a ball of wool into a play thing? Is it a distress signal tying you down to where you came from, is it a legend, it a story, is it the beacon that will guide you home, the wall of comfort to keep you away from the cold, or the bundle of love warming the insides of you that the cold will never reach...

Whatever it is... I hope all of us can find our "sweater" feeling tonight.

Beauty Day 252

The moon had seemed larger than life a few days back. It felt as though I could reach out and touch it. As though it was coming down from it's icy throne, to spend a few moments with us, trying to fit into the surrounding. Floating in its dark veil, it dominated the skyline. 

Beauty is often admired but at the same time can be found to be intimidating. Not going to go too deep into this... but often, the beautiful are most alone. There is always a hidden tragedy - wanted by too many, accepted by too few. Expecting life to be easier for the more beautiful, the more talented... the more we see that challenges us brings envy in us, the harder we push them down. 

The moon is beautiful but with a dark side. Admired while it battles with it's ever-changing form. Everyday it is a different version of itself... some days it is bright and full of light, able to shine without hiding. And others its weak and wane, dented with its imperfections. Friends to the lonely, muse to lovers... admired at a distance, never too close. 

The Calm Day 251

Been having some long days recently... lots of things to be done, mind all over the place. Sometimes though in the middle of the chaos, you find a focussed space, where what must be done must be done... and all other thoughts that cloud our mind can be put away.

The mind is an interesting place... it can convince us of so many things. We can take the same situation and make it out to be anything we want to believe it to be. Look at something in positive light or negative light.. look at it with understanding or with no tolerance. We build our world or break it down by our interpretation of the space around us. Question though is how much of this is truly in our control... is it where the difference of personality, experience and habit come in...or is it just a matter of being stimulated in a certain light, being surrounded by a different kind of thinker, or just making a personal decision to do or react to something differently...

Every now and then it feels like we choose to reinvent some part of ourselves. After a certain period of time or circumstances... after hurts or joys, new responsibilities... we take on new roles. During this transition period, is where all the "noise" in our head comes. And ironically enough... it was being busy, in the middle of chaos that can sometimes find you peace.

Still mind, still waters... embracing the calm while it lasts.

The Times Gone By - Part 1 (apparently) Day 250

I know in a lot of ways I can't call myself "old". A lot of people reading this might be amused at just the idea of that... but regardless, in my short life, I have seen some things reach extinction and was recently reminded of that. I thought I would write a blog reminiscing about the "times gone by" - the things which were so easily accepted as part of my everyday and just as easily left... Don't know if I miss all of them... but here's a few..

1. Encyclopedias - I remember getting homework assignments and collecting bunches of encyclopedias. Looking them up by letters and searching for topics. I would have to sit on the floor cos I had so many books open. It was hard work going through those books of pure knowledge and yet strangely satisfying to find the answer in print.

Do I miss them? Yes! It was a very sad day when Britannica announced sometime in 2012 they would no longer be printing any more. I remember us owning the full Britannica series, with the corresponding junior series in our living room. Patiently sitting - never thought the book that resembled the answer to ANY question I could come up with would stop being published after 200 years. And yet it did.. there's still something about the memory of those magically thin papers - each page being able to bear the weight of the entire book, the golden seal...the smell of something sacred.

2. Audio tapes - I don't think these are "fully extinct" as just recently I was sitting in a car with an audio player. It does bring back memories though... I remember all the blank cassette players I would have. We would record songs on our cool 2 cassette playing stereo systems and make mixed tapes. There was a spinning deck of cassettes I had. I think all of us at some point or the other manually wound up the tapes with the back of a ball pen. Also learnt the magic of how to fix chewed up tape by cutting it off and replacing it with folded tape. Yes, I can see my niece reading this and having no idea what i am talking of. Just writing this though brings back the shuddering memory of when you're hearing music and there was that funny sound in the player and you opened it to find a waterfall of brown tape flowing out...

Do I miss them? I can safely say no... too much trouble for their worth. Though the sound while winding these tapes was strangely therapeutic at times..

2a) Video Tapes - this is just a sub section of the above... somehow these were just mystery to me. I am not sure I ever fully understood how they worked... lets leave this thought here :)

3. Cameras - There were the new thing that I discovered, the special winding cameras. Film which you had to take to stores to get developed. I do remember my dad having slides and this amazing projector. We would turn the lights off, clear the wall of hangings and watch light transform the white into a slideshow of memories, while continuously filling in these little plastic slides into it. The camera which gave out the pictures immediately, looking like magical art and as you watch in a minute or so, the picture would appear.. and just like that you'd have captured a memory :) Films were definitely an advancement...

Do I miss them? Yes and no... I still have a soft spot for slides. There is just something almost poetic about them. Photographs, having those albums... I used to love pulling one out of hundreds of albums and just jogging down memory lane. Writing little notes behind pictures, dates. It's not something I can say I can completely move on from!

4. Modems - The internet was an amazing discovery around 1999/2000 for me. This magical (yes, apparently I used that word a lot while growing up to understand how some things worked...) box which would from now on be called the modem, would start up making alien sounds, flashing lights and invoke the Gods in cyber heaven to connect us in ways unimaginable. Which would explain why thunderstorms, power outages and sometimes for no good reason this modem would not - the cyber Gods did not have a clear line. I remember how our land lines would be filled with insane sounds, but also how easily we got trained to find comfort in these sounds. I was able to identify a "waiting" buzzing mess of a sound, and the "we're connecting, almost there" beeping buzzing wave crashing sound, and the final sound you got which would stop your heart after having no internet for 5 days... the "we're in business" - at the grand speed of 64Kbps!!

Do I miss them? No.. and no. And no. Too emotionally draining.

5. Floppy Disks - another nerve wrecking endeavor - I was told I was blessed to be using the 3.5 inch floppy as opposed to the 5 inch floppy. I don't know about that - but this 3.5 inch floppy has given me nightmares like no other. Assignments - all nighters, my programs... all sitting on this vulnerable piece of plastic that somehow could stop functioning for ANY reason - the most popular being its Monday and your life depends on it. And so I remember buying boxes and boxes of these, writing over so many times, I had to also buy boxes and boxes of floppy labels. I would have a backup of the backup of the backup of the backup of my "main floppy".

Do I miss them? Actually yes. I would love to make them coasters.

Okay this blog seems to have gotten much longer than I thought! And I am not even done with  my list :) Well maybe I will do a sequel to this...

To end this, I will leave this with one of the most amazing errors which would cloud a lot of my MS DOS days...

Abort, Retry, Fail?

Never understood the difference between Abort and Fail? Just typing that out there my fingers strangely want to do this... AAAAAAAFFFFFFFRRRRRFAFFFFFFFAAAAARRR

Yup, nothing ever really happened. Must have been a practical joke.

Good night, I am done rambling!

Limited Day 249

I remember during one of my dance classes... my teacher showed this amazing step, where you go from doing a step standing, to gracefully falling to the ground and then a little bit of a tumble and back to standing. I was mesmerised at her grace and how she moved between positions without thought. And then came the time when I had to replicate what she did. I was find doing all the moves till I had to go from standing to the floor in half a second. I was expecting some instruction on how to do this, a trick, it looked so easy, so effortless. She said to me, "Don't let fear limit you."

And honestly, that's all it was... letting go of the solid ground, letting gravity pull me in and not reaching out in fear, letting the motion carry me through the step. And no it wasn't painless the first few times, but then I too stopped giving it thought. For some reason those words were in my head recently. It is such a simple thought, and yet so hard sometimes. It is not necessarily to live life without fear... but to live life without it limiting you. For you to choose to not do something, and not because you're scared.

There are so many ways we limit ourselves.. by not trusting ourselves enough or just being too scared of the consequences. It's easier to just disappear, to just say you can't do something, to run, to find a way to give up. And yet in the end... all we've done is cloaked ourselves with fear. We've limited ourselves, our experiences and relationships which can give us so much more if we only didn't fear them... if only we used that fear to be careful, to learn, to grow... to expand.  

Castle Day 248

And I saw you build castles with your fingers

The air moulded to your movement, it trembled

I saw the towers reach out to the sky

Their majestic strength said to me,

"You are my dream, you are my queen"

And I saw the sea part at your touch

My heart reached out into your open hands 

I felt the meeting of our souls

And the gardens in the castle said to me

"We are your home, you are my queen"

I saw the seasons change, the tides come and go

Didn't look at the dark shadows just your words

Weaving, promising, leading…your whispers my truth

And the stars in the night, illuminated your face, said

"You have nothing to fear, you're my queen."

But the storms that had to come came

The waves that had to rise rose…

And I held on harder than I could

Let it beat against my back…saying to myself…

"We're together… I am his queen…"

And yet when I looked up, and opened my eyes..

I saw the castle crumble with your hands

The sounds thundering, the crashing walls

I saw the dust cover me, your eyes pulled away

Their desolation spoke to me, and said…

"You're beautiful, but no more my queen." 

- RKS

Thought re-thought Day 247

Every day is different. The world around us, the feelings within us, the people who stand with us, those who stand apart. Our thoughts, our aspirations, our viewpoints, our definitions. Everything is constantly changing. Maybe because of this we strive so hard to find that one thing that doesn't. We try to find the person who won't leave, the one sacred memory that won't be tarnished, the place to hide when you feel the most lost. The comfort of a space you know, you recognize...

Sometimes it feels like we chase a lot of mirages trying to find it. Trying to find that constant we run down so many paths, we build up so much hope and expectation... and somewhere in this journey, in this quest to hold on, we don't even realize how much of us is being pulled away, how much is being taken or added. We're adapting, building ourselves up without even our knowledge.

Are we fluid creatures and it a fool's quest to find stationary ground? Can any emotion tie us down, is there anything that remains...unconditional, accepting. Do we only become permeable to the constant when we let go of our fear of change? Maybe if we didn't fear losing what we had, we would be able to let it be with us in ways that can't be pulled away? Or maybe these are just emotional comforts we give ourselves as we defiantly refuse to accept the notion of our solidarity being our only real constant.

The Fading Summer Day 246

You were the warm breeze, the clear skies
The smile that travelled from my lips to eyes
You were the twinkling night sky, the calm
The feeling allowing me to be who I am

You were the soft sand, the blue sea
The dance in my feet, the closest to me

You were the resounding laughter, the warm rain
The gentle healer, the quiet listener, my companion

You were the season I never wanted to end
The night I held on to with passion and claim
The sun I didn't want to set...
The dream I never want to forget

Like magic, like a beautiful reality, a promised forever
You were my everything.. my perfect endless summer.

- RKS

You've Been Warned Day 245

Everything seems to come with a warning these days. Just going through my day, with the trains, escalators, champagne bottles, pruning shears, fertilizer. It's endless if you pay attention how many "caution" and "warning labels" there are. And yes some of these probably have a good reason, but some just seem absurd. Makes you wonder how many of these strange incidents have actually happened for suppliers to put these sort of warnings on their products...

I remember this became a big question mark when apple put "do not eat ipod shuffle" on their website a few years back:

I do remember in my early college years, I was helping teach a "computer literacy" class, where we had to make labels and stick them on the CD-ROM (wow, I felt so ancient typing that out...) drives stating "Do not use as cup holder". Sometimes intuition can go in so many different directions... 

While some seem ridiculous, there are so many "ironic" labels. Like cat litter stating "safe to use around pets"or a fire extinguisher stating it is "non-flammable". The reminder of not to use hair dryers in showers and so on and so forth. While some of this is funny, and there are some hilarious ones out there, with dedicated sites which collect these... I wonder what is happening to the human race. Are we becoming so used to things being spelt out for us, that everything "must be thought of", that we need continuous reminders on how not to seriously injure ourselves by eating a packet of nails which might cause irritation? Or is it that intuition and common sense have simply gone out the window? Or maybe we're all just hazards to ourselves...

Good night, if taking a sleeping pill, please note it may cause drowsiness. 

Air-Borne Day 244

There are so many things which we just take for granted, it works, we can use it... nothing to question here. Sometimes when flying, and I look out the window - I often think of the first flight that man must have taken. The fascination of our species to conquer air, making us able to travel in yet another medium. From the kite like structures, to hot air balloons to the putting together of mechanical parts and setting into motion. The feeling of looking down and seeing you so far above the land. Curiosity or stupidity, sometimes you need a little bit of both to move forward :)

The first passenger plane, the trusting of these people to get on board a metal "transporter". And yes, there are explanations on how this works and I understand how we are able to use engines, fuel, propellers etc. But sometimes it's just the simple thought... I look down and see, we are flying over water. Flying over water, flying through air - a gorgeous sunset lighting our paths, a wonderland of clouds and stars. Seeing a world below us that though we know and recognize, is so much bigger than we imagine. Everything becomes so small, the streets, the cars, the houses... and yet so much larger. Innovation is used to move us forward, to help us progress - make our physical lives easier. And yet in so many ways...  the ability to create, build and witness the results of this innovation, in some level is feeding our spiritual beings. We are able to be part of someones simple idea... that today, I will not be afraid... today is going to be an adventure...today, I will achieve the impossible. 

Tug of Nature Day 243

And they arose, with no question, they arose. It was cold, the journey long. There were others who were awakening too, greeting the cold morning with no more joy nor disdain than was necessary. It was a long trek, and every long journey is completed one step at a time. And they began walking. Slowly, not focussing too much on their cold skin or the icy winds. The only thought was to keep moving, to find a way to keep going. 

There was comfort in knowing that they were not alone, several had arisen that day and were going through this journey. Battling for survival, removed all other thought from the mind. Their feet kept plodding on, even in the icy fog they knew the way. Almost like a map you can't forget, even when your not conscious of it, your senses know the way. 

And as more join, the blood slowly starts rushing again. The excitement within makes you forget your hardships. In a crowd of strangers, there is an invisible thread thats tugging you - pulling you closer to where you've walked so long to be. And then it's complete. The missing piece you were searching for, the one who had walked the same journey as you, has walked with purpose and felt the thread connecting you too.. in front of you. And in silence they connect, in touch they promise... this is not the last journey, many will be made. But for now, this is the journey and this is the destination. Their story has begun and they begin to dance with fate. 

This is about one of my favorite animals, the penguins. The emperor penguins and their now famous, "march" to the breeding grounds where they find their mate devoting a year to try and bring life in one of the harshest climates in the world. 

Silent Day 242

Silent is the night that watches all that unfolds around it
Silent is the dust that let's the raindrops fall on it's raw skin
Silent is the lake that reflects the beauty of the starlight
Silent the hope that you have found your happiness

Silent are the trees that let the winds rustle through them
Silent are the flowers that let the bees play with them
Silent the branches that birds comes to rest on
Silent the thoughts which don't reach your ears

Silent the sky that lets the sun use it as its canvas
Silent the mountains that loom over as witnesses
Silent the ocean that gives in to the pull of the moon
Silent the longing, the missing of your presence

Silent the night, the day, the space all around
Silent the melody, the laughter, all type of sound
Silent you and I... in our quiet resolves and desires
Silent... silently, I wait for the end of this silence.

- RKS

Worthy Day 241

We are always looking for a way to quantify things. Whether it is a feeling or something material. Everything has a value... something in our mind, whether it is monetary or emotional or just the way it impacts your life, we find a way to give it some type of worth.

I have been thinking about self-worth recently. Have spent a lot of my life growing up trying to "prove my worth" to my friends and people who knew me. I don't think I have been looking for much in return as I have been battling with myself. I think we tend to put ourselves down so much. It's taken some growing up to realize that rejection and goodbyes are not because we don't deserve something, or that we're unworthy. Bad decisions people make, bad decisions we make - are just moments in time we need to learn from and move forward.

I think if we all had more self-worth the number of days we were down or doubting ourselves would drastically reduce. There is so much retrospection and second guessing yourself when you feel you have not accomplished something you desired. Whether it is in someones life, or in yours personally, being somewhere less than what you envisioned - placing the worth of yourself against that of what we've evaluated others to be.

Step one of increasing our self-worth is perhaps to start accepting who we are. Not changing or questioning but understanding who we are. Embracing yourself and changing things we don't particularly like. Not living life based on someone elses opinion or some version of ourselves that we believe we should be. Putting who you are out there and standing by it. Accepting that we will fail and lose people or things which we don't want to. Accept that we're not perfect and enjoy the stories that will come from our ignorant moments. Adapt yourself to learn, listen and watch the peaks of emotion in you. And most importantly... give yourself more credit. You've fared so many storms, so many heart aches... we are constantly evolving. Constantly changing.. there are so many people we impact in ways we don't realize. It's so easy to focus on the hurt and forget the positive impacts we've made.

Every single day when we get up and go through our day, we're constantly changing some little part of the world. Give yourself a break... and a little more credit for all that you do.

Nothing More Day 240

There is something in the wake of your smile
The look in your eyes when they find mine
Something hard to describe in the way you kiss me
The way your hands find and claim me...
There is something in the way you dance with me
Without touch, you sway with me in my mind
Something about the way you whisper to me...
Your breath against my skin, warmth of your lips
Something about the way your fingers hold my hair
The way you stay with me, even when you're not there
Something about the way your touch stirs me
Wakes emotions in me that I didn't know I had
Something about the way you calm me in this storm
Storm that you weave with your passion
Make me trust you in this free fall..
Something about the look in your eyes..
Grasping me, caressing me, holding me..
The way they promise not to let go...
Something in the wake of your smile..
That softly speaks to me, whispering
As I fall and rise in your arms,
As though there was nothing more to do
Nor be, than where we are now...
As though there was nothing more to do
Than for you to be mine, and me yours
- RKS

Digging Day 239

We keep digging inside ourselves for a sense of what "feels right". We keep scraping the surface of our skins to make that deeper connection and fulfill the needs we have within us. We all try to be happy. In some form or the other, we aim for a sense of fulfillment, a feeling of comfort in your shell, confidence in your ability to extend out to others, in your ability to perform in different arenas. And we measure our happiness by our impacts, our growth. When we see a positive growth we embrace it. When we see something positive it attracts us. Beauty, color, mystery, connections we form that are impactful. We all want to see ourselves grow, ourselves move beyond our mistakes and faults. We want to keep some relationships close, we want to keep our faith strong. We keep digging and looking for ways to do that.

Somehow wanting so many things, we tend to forget that happiness like everything else doesn't come easily. Somewhere along the way I learnt how hard it is to find acceptance of who you are. To find people who will not judge you. To find situations where you do not need to conform, where you can exist in your unique way and not be outcasted for it. There are so many things and situations that are thrust at you while you try to keep yourself going.  You become aware of your pillars that hold you up, your friends, your family, your sense of belonging, your confidence. When these are attacked, you feel the disabled and realize our vulnerable state. 

Rebuilding - once again starting to dig.  Digging our surface, seeing what we have left. Counting your losses, realizing that we're more able and capable than we thought. And that happiness is still hard but every day does not need to be a battle. We just need to keep finding, searching for those "feel right" moments and slowly thread them together... follow their path, has to lead to somewhere good. 

Warrior Day 238

I am a warrior, send me to the battlefield
I don't have fear though I don't call myself brave
Send me to the battlefield where I can fight
With my arms and strengths, where I am alive

Leave me not in the battles of my mind
Where darkness of the human soul terrifies
Colder than that of the night and what it cloaks
Give me demons I can slash with my sword
Not invisible cowards who torment my days
And I have no weapons against...

I am a warrior, let me wear my armor
March forth, move with discipline and sense
Where mind and reason have a place
Planned actions, known rewards
I am a warrior, I don't fear the cold death

Leave me not in places I must strip my walls
Enemies armed with tenderness who attack my heart
Mind and reason fall short to the waves of emotion
Purpose misunderstood, shackled with silence
Leave me not with the weights of doubt and regret
Enclosed in judgment like kites in winds of fate

I am a warrior, send me to the battlefield
Let me fight, for I know no other way
Let me wear my armor, it protects my soul
Where the black rivers of pain
The lies and hurt they carry will not haunt me

I am a warrior... send me to the battlefield.

- RKS

Watching the sunrise Day 237

It was dark, most of the world asleep. We woke up, made our trek up the forest. The deers out to feed, the black forest slowly starting to come to life.

We went higher up the mountain, following the hint of light we saw. The ground we walked on, the land around us was easier to follow. The endless ocean meeting the mountains, the clouds playing with the sky and behind it a ball of fire starting to rise. Breaking through the clouds, in this silent setting, a little red, a hint of color to the monochrome landscape. 

Watching all around you come alive, feeling the warmth - the feel of life being echoed by the surface of your skin, by nature all around you. The waking of the day, the response to the sun... our source of energy fueling us. Have always had an intimate connection with sunrises. There's that time, just before the sun is rising, the time when everything is still... it is just beautiful. We exist in a place almost stolen from time. Without ego, without desire, without anything that will weigh us down in the day. In that moment, you are with yourself... when the sun dances on your skin, the first rays kiss your face... you feel yourself. You are one with that which is infinite... 

Recently made a trek up to see the sunrise from a mountain top. And while it was overcast and not the most glorious of the sunrises I have seen, it still had that same feeling. That same beauty which makes me feel connected again. 

My mind is a raging storm,

But the sunrise is mesemerising

My desires seem to have no form

Oh, above the mountains its rising

What do I want, who am I to be

The ocean laps against the rocks

Where do I need to go, what more to see?

Waves rise and fall, the granite glows

Silhouettes of doubt in my mind...

Silhouettes of trees decorate your path

Where do I hide from my fears?

Hide in the arms of nature, its embracing you

I have questions...

The mountains are infinite...

Am I small in my existence.. 

The ocean is endless...

Do I fight my demons or stay who I am

But the skies are dancing, the stars blossoming

The infinite heavens are above you

The ground from which you come below

Look outside your mind, you're in a wonderland

You're bigger than your doubts

You're larger than your fears...

You're the rising sun, the lapping waves

The glowing moon, the twinkling stars..

The hot lava, the beauty of snow.. the falling rain,

Look beyond the shell you contain yourself in

You are everywhere, you are everything. 

- RKS

Acceptance of Time Day 236

It's a little strange thinking a year has almost come to completion since I began this challenge. In an ideal world, this should be blog 363. A year... sometimes when life is measured with these small "landmarks" we realize just how much has passed us by in this current of time.

I have given myself more time to finish this and yes, will still enjoy the "year" when it's done. It just kinda struck me how much has happened in the last year. I wonder if I have moved forward or stayed in the same place. If life is really propelling us forward, or are we just playing with experiences searching for the true meaning of happiness.

Have had so many thoughts in my mind in the last few days, it's a little strange sitting here and trying to "voice" them. When we start to structure things and explain them, it sometimes clarifies and other times just does not measure up. Times like this, I try to be the observer, the quiet observer... just watch the tides rise and fall within me. To take in and see what we find in the wake.

Just breathe in, breathe out. Take it in, take it out. Let it in, let it out and try to find that calm, that unmovable calm within us.

This center, this quiet place where thought has no form. Sometimes when we let go, when we give up something we've held on to, when life has worn us out, when things have gone against our intentions and sometimes even in our good or selfish moments, when we're pulling against the natural threads, when we choose to ignore that which we desire. Whatever it is, when we have thought that has no more purpose -we find that place.

We are strong in our vulnerability, we are beautiful in our ability to process emotion.. All our dark, lonely places lead back to the calm. All our happy, content moments lead us back to the calm.  One day, we might look back at the currents we fought against, and realize how much time we let go, how much time we let by... and if we had just stood in our calm, maybe we wouldn't be so surprised when it did, maybe we would be more accepting of ourselves.

The Nuances of Romance Day 235

Somehow the word "romantic" seems to be thrown around a lot. And I am sure, what I say in here is not going to be what lot of people associate with the meaning of romance. Now that we've the disclaimer aside... This is a blog request, that a friend asked me to write. We have this debate a lot - what it is and the amount of work it entails! I do think I should get him to write his perspective down too, would be kind of fun to compare our different views. But this is my little take on it...

The idea of romance to me has evolved over time. I think as girls, we start off with the image of a prince charming coming and sweeping you off your feet. Fairytales, movies, magazines, friends - they all feed into this notion. There have been so many "standardized" ways of showing it these days. Red roses, chocolates, e-cards, paper cards...it's almost too easy, and yet still so hard.

I don't think the actual "act" matters as much as the "thought" does. And yes this does sound cliché but... at the end of the day a romantic day is one which makes you feel special. You feel like you're floating through your day, you have a goofy smile for no reason, and you can't wait to be with the one you love. Romance is a mould you have to fit into every person... depending on their age, their state of mind and who they are at the core of it.

 

So much is happening in our lives every single day and that one act of sweetness, one simple phonecall or message that's out of the ordinary can be romantic. The adoring eyes, the simple brush of a hand. Waking up early so you can make breakfast, or giving someone a break by helping out when it isn't asked for. A trinket, a flower, a rub, an emotion... Anything can be portrayed in the way we go about it. I think any and every day can be that way, it is just the way we take it in.

 

I don't believe romance is a one way street. I think along with being a recipient, we must also give back and hence inspire more in return! It's a secret language or thread which keeps you close to someone. Makes you think fondly of them... makes you smile every time you see them. There are grand gestures and yes those can be amazing... but in the end, it will be the simplest thought, the right words, a certain look exchanged, the kiss good night, the perfect song playing, the beautiful night.. something small and everything will be... dare I say, perfectly romantic?

 

Her Walk Day 234

And she walked with a freedom she had claimed
Free in her mind, she walked with a pride she had found
Her thoughts her own to command, desires hers to discover
She walked with a sense of acceptance of herself.

And she smiled with a freedom that lit up her eyes
Free in her body, unshackled from expectation
Her dance, her melody... she moved for herself
She smiled with an understanding of her existence.

And she talked words of freedom that came from her heart
Speaking without fear, she told the stories that stirred within
Her moments that she could claim without a need for them
She celebrated her moods and spoke of who she was.

She moved with the wind, she held strong among a crowd
Talk of the town, feared and lusted, desired and avoided
Judged and undefined, envied and loved, forsaken and admired.
She watched the currents she would stir within them
And she walked... she walked with the freedom she had claimed
She danced with the understanding she didn't need to impart
She celebrated, and spoke when she chose to.
She belonged to no one and she knew she was free.

- RKS

Fluid You Day 233

In some of our strongest emotions we find our mind quiet. In some of our quietest moments we find our emotions raging. It is strange how much is said when nothing is said at all. We embrace joy that we know will lead us to an end. We try to experience new dimensions by holding on. We try new experiences by letting go. We laugh when we're sad, we cry when we're happy.

We seek independence but cannot suffer loneliness. We dream but are afraid to follow. We fear that which we cannot imagine, we imagine what we fear. Caught in a maze, lost in straight lines... we live in blurred lines, we find life within the blurred lines of expectation.

We embrace hardest when we are able to let go. We let go when we're embraced, we hold on when we're pushed away. We love when we hurt, we hurt when we love.. we are grey and white and black and confused and sorted.

We seek answers to questions we can't ask. We give answers to that which we don't understand. We understand what we process, we process what we want to. Memories build around us, we build ourselves from our memories. We attach, we detach... we lean in, we move back. We build, we break... we justify, we deny...

We're beautiful in our existence, we've ugly moments... we're angels and devils, we're defined and undefined. We are predictable and spontaneous. Predictably spontaneous or spontaneously predictable. We are contained and small... we are free and infinite. We're a spectrum of energy, we're invincible. We're stories to tell, we tell stories... flowing in, flowing out... channeling it in, leading it out... we tumble through life, and life tumbles through us.

Up, up in the sky... Day 232

Twinkling stars look down at us every night. When we're lucky enough to see them in their court, it's mesmerizing. Looking up has been such an automatic reaction for me in so many ways. On beautiful nights, looking up at the clear sky. Looking up at the sunsets, the blue sky, the stormy ones. The lightning flashing, the clouds floating. Any moment given to myself and some point, I would look up. So many conversations have been interrupted with - "wow look at the sky, look at the colours" - the rainbows, the moon in it's glory.

There are so many times we feel small in our existence and thought. Life itself seems so contained and finite. And then there are the stars.. representing the vastness of our planet. There is that perfect rainbow, celebrating that perfect warm rain. There is life before us, after us... beyond us, below us and above us. So while laying down and watching the sky float by...  thinking how beautiful this quiet sky is, I recalled this sonnet I had read a while back, and thought I would share it:

Many a patterned clouds, I must have seen
All days of life, so glorious to the eyes;
Quite captivating too, many have been;
What beauty, so enthralling, holds the skies!

And night has shown the starry heaven’s view;
The sun and moon have added splendor much;
And dawn and twilight, awesome with their dew;
-The Master painter’s brush’s magic touch!

And rarely have I seen some rarer sights;
My mind could not discern their meanings still;
What frescoes got displayed by darkness, lights!
God promised me far better things by will!

If skies have wonders breath-taking indeed,
What more the universe can man’s heart feed!
- Dr John Celes

Good night.. let's dance with the stars, hold on to their hope, let their light heal our wounds, and wrap us in their cloak of night. Let them spun dreams of beauty to cross this darkness and lead us to a tomorrow of warmth.

Hands Day 231

Little hands, hold on tight
The world is large, you so small
Protected, feeling of safety
Fingers wrapped tightly.

Young hands, freely exploring
The world is your playground
Fearless, running with abandon
Wind running through your fingers.

Delicate hands, you are beauty
The world sighs at your sight
Graceful, young heart filled with hope
Playing of your hair in your fingers.

Entwined hands, clasped in your lovers
The world is yours to discover
Realization, racing with emotion
Tenderness wrapped in your fingers.

Nurturing hands, you hold a child
The world lies in your lap
Guarding, caring, your heart smiles
Fingers caressing to sleep.

Aging hands, you feel the weight of time
The world is moving on, faster now
Nervous, trying to keep up...
Goodbyes slipping through your fingers

Wrinkled hands, hold on tight
Your hands are your eyes, guiding you
Your adventures wrapped in your memories
Your fingers hold on to their thought.

Beautiful hands... soothing hands...
Nurturing, aging, loving, caressing...
Speaking when words couldn't
Your ink, your wisdom, your witness
Your hands... your hands.

- RKS

The Varied You Day 230

There is a variation of moods some days. You swing from one end of a spectrum to another, or you just swing along in the middle ground. Sometimes excited, sometimes quiet... sometimes so much of life occurs in just a few moments. You have the distinct awareness that you will not forget this moment. Your mind is alert, and you watch more closely - listen more closely, almost trying to trap this memory in a photograph in your mind. Truly present in the present...

In a lot of ways, being aware is something that doesn't happen often. We're so caught up in chores and what must be done, what we should be doing. The "aware moment" becomes rarer and rarer. I think I feel a lot of these when standing on the cusp of a change. Whether it is a small one or larger one... a simple step taken for yourself, a step held back for yourself. When we become aware of the mood around us. The darting of the eyes, the energy in the room - is their uneasiness, or comfort? Is there melancholy or contentment? It's very interesting just observing those around us - so much is betrayed by the body language. The smile that doesn't touch the eyes, the thumbs playing with each other in anticipation. The unfocused expression, the bewildered one. A kind heart, mistrust... fear, affection. Even before words voice it, we can read it.

And we ourselves are rainbows of these emotions. We're wearing our moods and thoughts on our faces, in our hands. In the movement of our feet, in the energy level we're portraying - in simple behavior. Eating more, or less - smiling more, or withdrawn. It's just a matter of who is watching, observing. Some days I think of how I woke up, what mood I was in, what frame of mind and progress through the day. Some days it's not as dramatic, others more so :) I think it is our moods which betray the complexity of the human mind. The way we see ourselves and the way we behave... sometimes two different things. The way our intentions are interpreted, the moods which are influenced by simple things - words hurt our ego, our own feeling of self worth.

Mechanical bodies, with functional systems...and then just the birth of "emotion" and suddenly we're so different - we're so complicated, complex. Impossible to summarize, impossible to predict. And some days watching the pendulum swing... watching those complex colours dance, makes you appreciate just how impossible to completely understand we each are.

A thought... Day 229

I miss you in the quiet
That's louder when you're gone
I miss you in the noise
When the calm is harder to find
In the stormy seas of life.
I miss you in my dreams
Your voice leading me to them
I miss you in the dark
Which seems heavier now
I miss you in the light
When I want to share myself
Miss your wanting to know me
Miss your wanting to see me
Miss you in my moments of triumph
When I want to celebrate with you
See your eyes light up with mine
Miss you in my moments of despair
The walls of faith crumbling around me
And I could hide in your familiarity
In the comfort that you provided
Even when you felt inadequate.
I miss propelling you and making you smile
Miss feeling like I was yours and you mine
The secret world we shared
The soft whispers, the unshaken love
I miss the memories, the old and the new
The adventures we were yet to take...
I miss you sharing my fears, my joy
Miss sharing your thoughts, your questions
The comfortable silences, the soft hands
Your warm skin, your smile, dancing eyes..
I miss telling you that... I miss you
Miss you in the quiet when words dance
In my mind and in my loneliness
I find a misplaced smile on my face...
And the simple thought - I miss you.
- RKS

Scrapbooks of Memories Day 228

Was recently rummaging through my older possessions that I had packed when leaving home. Found a lot of memories wrapped inside small trinkets, and dolls. In little embroidered cloths and old diaries where things seemed much larger than life. Found the faith of a child, the untapped beauty of a girl, the nervous woman, the bright-eyed optimist, the dramatic teenager... childhood friends who meant so much more... found so many things I felt I had grown from. Things that have changed me, and molded me. The memory of which became afresh going through those words.

The things that surprised me were the things that have not changed. How some people who meant the world to me as a kid, still do... and always will, even when they have pulled away. How the feeling of the unknown, knowing how life will turn out - the little bit of uncertainty still lives. That it sometimes feels like we're going to embark on an adventure. Do we every truly outgrow all of our younger tendencies?

Rummaging through, the excitement started building up. The stories that are hidden, and the feelings that are associated with everything... the old teddy bear, that had been stitched up too many times. Board games, doll houses, the broken frisbee. Drawings, some terrible poetry... the sweet gifts, the long phone conversations, the walks that would start at dusk and end up with me watching the twinkling stars from home.

Then looking closer you notice, that the books are torn, the colors have faded from the dresses. You realize, some of the people you wrote of have passed on. And the full realization of the amount of time that has passed dawns on you. It is an overwhelming sensation to be aware of the impact that you have had and life has had on you vice versa. You remember the dreams you had... the feelings you held close. The ideas of forever, the fears that kept you up... and you look into who you are today. You look for an echo of that, and in a way start to appreciate who you are more now. Maybe you find disappointment, maybe you find a stranger... either way, it's yours - memories, good, bad... treasured forever. And in a strange way we always do find a way to romanticize the good. We like to believe that our time in those days had meaning, all we went through had purpose... a reason, a significance.

It's strange... I look around me, and I pull at the threads that are so obvious to me. The strong threads that tie us to each other. That have tied us together for so many years... and such little acknowledgment of it. Do we really only move forward by letting go? Can we only grow if we close our desires, fears and mistakes in a suitcase, trap it in a scrapbook and let it affect us only when we so choose? Meeting your past self, is sometimes the best way to get to know your present self...

Whirling in the Wind Day 227

Whirlwind is an interesting word. The formation of a vertical column of air created by something irregular or unstable, picking up power and speed as it grows. To be lost in a whirl, carried off in the wind... a whirlwind of a life.

So many times it feels like our days are just that - we're such powerhouses of energy. Sometimes this remains dormant and allows us to function without taking too much. And sometimes when tapped, we find we're capable of feeling such devastation, we are capable of feeling such incredible passion - we are able to propel and also able to destroy. We get introduced to desires which we haven't even acknowledged, we dream of places which we didn't know we wanted... we hurt at the loss of something we don't own. We attach so fast, we don't let go fast enough. And just when it feels like too much, when we think we can't live without something.. we do.

Looking at things detached, it feels like a little bit of a game we play. Toyed at by events, our reactions dependent on our surroundings, our vulnerable state. The "instabilities" of life build this up within us. It's just a thought I get sometimes when I look around at people... how many of these are dormant heroes, how many of these are quiet untapped powerhouses, who is sinking in the feeling of no return, who doesn't know their potential, who is surrounded by situations that make it harder to see, to think...

We're so shaped by things around us. Everything beats hard on our walls, and we decide what to let in and what not to. Shock hits us, the harsh waves of reality break out glass boundaries... the inevitable balance of good and bad, joy and hurt. I find we can't hide from either... when we even embrace the dark, when we embrace the pain - in spite of our will, joy will find us.

Whirlwinds of change take us away with them... and we find ourselves caught up and lost, once again choosing which end to take... which way to go, which story to tell, which ones to keep to ourselves.

Tracy 2003 - 2013 Day 226

Okay, so I kind of promised this blog and I hope the sincerity of it shows through :)

In the last year or so, I have seen this twice - my sister and now husband going through the process of letting their car go. And it has been, to say the least - emotional for them! And I haven't been truly um supportive of this hardship, so this blog is my dedication to the loss of our latest "family" member...

I have a habit of naming things - cars, laptops, phones - anything I interact with usually ends up with a name. I am not sure how or why - but this car got the name Tracy. Tracy was a stick shift Hyundai Elantra and I have had a love-hate relationship with her. She was introduced to me at a time in my life which was a huge stepping stone for me. She was part of a hard uphill journey I had begun. She was a witness to that and always will be special to me for that time period.
I attempted to get my drivers license in her - attempted being the keyword. When the driving instructor sat in the car she was appalled at the idea of me having "two brakes" - never had seen a clutch before.. yes, that exam was doomed before it began.

She was the first (and only) stick shift I have driven. It was an empowering experience learning to drive her and I truly enjoyed it. Of course, we had to go through the usual perils of me learning to balance her uphill, not stall her when impatient drivers wouldn't give me time to change gears etc. Then came the summer when it was just me and her. She and I took our first long drive alone to Plainsfield, WI. Another interesting story, I should store these somewhere for future blogs :) We bonded strongly that summer and I think that is when we became friends.

And then one day while backing her out, I had a minor accident and she got a dent in the back. I felt so bad about it. I don't think I can ever back out again without thinking of that incident! She took us to so many state parks, long drives to the apostle islands, to MN. She was a connecting bridge from Illinois to Wisconsin to Iowa to Minnesota. I know she went on a long, long adventure from WI to CA - I wasn't part of that one, but the stories are there. I got my cat, Meethi, home in Tracy :)

It's hard to quantify memories in a small space of a blog. What is a car really? Is it just a possession, something we use and let go, replace? I think it's hard for us to let things go because we are emotional beings and we don't see a chunk of metal - we see ourselves. It is a moment in time, it is an age - it is that first thrill you have when you buy your first car. The first spark you have when you experience something amazing... whether it is a date or a fun drive with friends. Maybe even just seeing the stars from her sunroof. It is time which you've spent growing and experiencing things. The comfort you feel in your familiar seat, the touch of your steering wheel. You know this car, this car knows you - she is your friend and letting go will never be easy.

If I try and think of every moment I have driven her and the places we've gone...if I think of what it means to everyone who has had a part of her, of what it means to her beloved owner - I think it's an endless list. It's not about the dent, or the smoking engine etc etc - it's about being a puzzle piece to a lot of beautiful memories that have been created. She always will be immortalized in every picture, every trip and every story we tell of her. So are there ever really any goodbyes? Maybe just.. letting go, and letting her legacy live on.

Tracy... travel well, my friend.

The Bird Day 225

Once upon a time, there was a bird. He was adorned with perfect wings and with glossy, colourful feathers. He was a creature made to fly about freely in the sky, bringing joy to everyone who saw him.

One day, a woman saw this bird and fell in love with him. She watched his flight, her mouth wide in amazement, her heart pounding, her eyes shining with excitement. She invited the bird to fly with her, and the two traveled across the sky in perfect harmony. She admired and venerated and celebrated that bird.

As time passed by, the fear of losing him grew. She began to have thoughts that kept her awake at night, "He might want to visit far-off mountains! How can I live without him!" And then came the fear that she would never feel the same way about the other bird. The fear bred darkness within her and then she felt envy, envy for the bird's ability to fly.

And in all this envy, and fear more than anything she started to feel alone.

Then came her thought: "I'm going to set a trap. The next time the bird appears, he will never leave me again."

The bird, who was also in love with her, returned the following day, fell into the trap and was put in a cage.

She looked at the bird every day. There he was, the object of her passion, and she showed him to her friends, who said to her: "Now you have everything you could possibly want."

However, a strange transformation began to take place; now that she had the bird and no longer needed to woo him, she began to lose interest.

The bird, unable to fly and express the true meaning of his life, began to waste away and his feathers began to lose their gloss; he grew ugly; and the woman no longer paid any attention, except by feeding him and cleaning out his cage.

One day, the bird died. The woman felt terribly sad and spent all her time thinking about him. But she did not remember the cage.. She did not think of the time that he had stayed trapped and close to her. No, when she closed her eyes - she thought only of the day when she had seen him for the first time, flying contently amongst the clouds. She thought of his beauty that had taken her out of her confines. Looking more deeply into herself, she realized that what had thrilled her about the bird was his freedom, the energy of his wings in motion, not his physical body, not the physical presence, but the places he took her mind, filled her with light.

Without the bird, her life too lost all meaning, and Death came knocking at her door. "Why have you come?" she asked Death. "So that you can fly once more with him across the sky," Death replied.

Death sighed and said "If you had allowed him to come and go, you would have loved and admired him even more; alas, you now need me in order to find him again."

She closed her eyes and fell into eternal sleep, ready to find him again, not possess him but love freely as he did.

Perils of Writing Day 224

When I began this challenge, it was a way of getting back in touch with something I loved to do - write. I think a part of it was a childhood memory of how I used to scribble down stories to made up worlds and "escape" to a limitless place. A place where you're understood, and magic is normal, miracles happen and good things come to those who are true. There is bravery and courage, there is only so much darkness and evil that can go on till the light dims it out...

Princesses, dragons, witches, the normal kid discovering a magical world. Something beyond the ordinary, an adventure waiting to happen, a story waiting to be told. Older - writing became a way of channeling emotions. Must things we feel just be fleeting sensations - can we not find inspiration in our empty moments, in our strong ones? What is the point of our existence, if there are no witnesses? And what better way to document something that strikes you than to write it, to form poetry, or an essay - to immortalize our weaknesses and hurts into art.

So when I began this challenge, I guess part of me wanted to write down things I go through - the emotions I discover, the lessons I learn, the nostalgia - the stories I don't forget. Maybe just a sounding board. I guess what I didn't account for was that there are a lot of emotions we go through, when words are difficult to find. There are moments in our life which sometimes are so ordinary, they don't seem like anything amazing to write about, and yet those when gone leave us feeling lost. There are so many empty spaces in our vocabulary and expressions to share all that we experience.

I sometimes think to write differently - to force my mind to type up a story, make them laugh even when I am in a somber mood. Surely there is a tale, a funny list, a poem... someone else's words... anything but the quiet. Yet, I find it hard to do that - not because there is nothing... but because it doesn't seem to come from the right place. Writing has evolved to something so personal in a way, it's hard to not be true to it. And sometimes the quietness that surrounds it...the silent words we don't pen, they take form into something else. Maybe they are just seeds that will grow into thought and bloom into art... one day, till then...

Sands of the Mind Day 223

Silent storms stir the sands of my mind...
Cruel reminders wrapped in love so kind
The demons I run from surround me fast
Where can we hide, what can truly last?

Holding on we dance around each other
The fight's within, pulling me out further.
Who do I blame, who do I forgive,
The shadows of doubt start to flicker.
Forgiveness given yet the guilt does linger
A proud warrior was I, now a sinner I still fight this war
Innocence sold, I stand in the dark when I hear
my conscience shriek,

"Hold on to who you are...
The body is just a shell, you are beautiful
You are unscarred...
You feel shame, you feel pain...
You accept your crime.
You listened, you explored
The child in you led you on...
Lost you saw, but you returned
You have pride, you have reasons
The price is in your mind, rise from your knees
Forgive yourself, stand up tall now...
Don't hide behind the walls, don't cave in to the dark
Make the pull, the hurt your rein
Let loose your hair, let your eyes shine
Ride with the wind... Ride this silent storm
Leave the dust behind, of this storm that slowly
Stirs the sands of your faith...".

- RKS

Silence Day 222

I have been "silent" for a long time now. Sometimes in the mad rush of things, it doesn't feel like very long and in other times when we break a habit - it seems an era away. Either way, it seems like a good time to break the silence... :)

Had a lot of reflection on silence in the last few weeks. It can take on so many faces and represent so many things to us. It can be the awkward silence between people who want to share so much but are unable to speak, the awkwardness may be bred from pain, or nervousness or just lack of interest maybe. There is the silence of comfort... when you find no need for words, when every other sense is in overdrive perhaps - the silence of taking it in. Silence of sitting with an old friend.

Silence of the mountains, of beauty - of the majesty of nature, the power of it or the simplest creatures of it - amazement perhaps. Beauty contained so simply - quietly going along its course and all we need to do is stop and explore. While hiking recently, went over a region which I had earlier, but this time was quiet, there was no conversation and I heard the rush of water. Bending down, looking through a bush was able to see a waterfall, a small one that had been running under our feet all this while but had never noticed. Sometimes we see or hear best when we let our thoughts, our words go quiet - that is probably what true "listening" is.

Silence of fear... seeing someone you love in distress, the silence of death, of reaction... when you want to hear an affirmation, to hear something... anything. The silence of loneliness, when you feel like you're floating in a dark river, unable to reach out. You speak out helplessly, and the cold silence awaits you.

The silence of your mind when it is tired, when it is content... when it is afraid, when it is brave... Sometimes I think we are the loudest in our emotion when we're quiet. When we respond with silence, when we walk away from wrongs, walk towards the pull of our curiosity. Anything we feel most powerfully, at its peak...at the moment when you are feeling that, whether it is your love for someone or your concern, your fear - your body takes over the mode of communication, you truly experience that emotion and in this incredible state of being so aware of all your senses, you find yourself surrounded...surrounded by silence.