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.