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The dance unknown.
When I see a page, I see notations that dance.
The dance of a pen.
Flowing to an end that is unknown,
Only to the hand that leads the dancing pen.
Frictions and potholes to fix or avoid,
On a road made smooth,
On a road in your mind
That leads the hand
That dances with the pen.
Smooth sailing…rough sailing…
Sometimes on canvas
The pen continues to dance
Stories come alive
Notations come alive
Creations come to life
All to the dance of the pen.
I have no idea what I have written.
I let my pen take the lead.
I let it dance.
Parting question dear reader – are you consciously holding your pen? Or you have no idea what your story contains?
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Shield
What’s armour to you? Is it an impenetrable shell that covers all easy target areas? Is it a mesh that only allows for some passage/flow? Is it large or small? Does it cover you from head to toe? Is it transparent – showing your vulnerabilities? What comes to mind when you hear ‘armour’?
I speak about armour this week because I think they are a double-edged sword. On the one hand, they protect you while on the other hand, they keep good from you. Picture this…it is a cold morning but you expect it to warm up, therefore you wear your best shirt/blouse because it brings out your eyes, and then you add a thick coat to keep you warm. As the day wears on, you realise that it will not get warmer and you are destined to hide your great looking shirt/blouse. Now this is a very simple example, however, let’s dwell on it and change it a little.
You leave the house with a stern face, so that all who meet you will fear you and will not dare to cross your path. However, under the stern face, is a heart that is willing to reach out but has been pinched one too many times. Therefore what does the stern face do? It keeps people away. And everyone with the potential for warmth is also locked out.
Alternatively,
You leave the house with a warmth radiating from within, so that all who meet you will be welcomed by the smile hiding just behind those eyes. You are grateful for the warmth of the sun, no matter how much reason you have to complain about its intensity. Your heart’s warmth is magnified.
Life has taught us that it is quite unpredictable. And therein lies the greatest joys and sorrows.
Let me try a poem…it’s been a while..no?
Dear you,
I am your protection.
I can grow as high or as thorny as you need me to.
I can be as impenetrable as you need me to
However, I want you to know that in your efforts to protect yourself,
I can also keep out the good around you.
I am your gatekeeper.
I can allow all good and happiness to come in if you ask me to.
All I need is that you trust what you have built in me to protect you.
Sincerely,
Your armour.
– The trouble with putting armour on is that, while it protects you from pain, it also protects you from pleasure – Celeste Holm
May your week unfold with all the intended good.
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Of Parts. Finale.
Tisa was overcome by curiosity and forgetting the fear of punishment, she nudged her feet forward towards the bush that was now her target. She heard the now familiar rustle and walked just a little faster. When she reached there, she was all but surprised!
*******************************************************
“Hey! Don’t play over there! You know better Jeff!”
“But Mum! I have to follow my pet rabbit!”
Tisa smiled at her only child and locked eyes with him. He was a replica of his father, who now sat upright to watch their exchange. She moved her eyes over to him…the man who had her heart, and smiled at him as she remembered how they first met. They still chuckled at the thought because if it wasn’t for their disobedience, they wouldn’t have been out wandering on the fateful day. Jeff snr. recalled trying to scare Tisa but it only served to raise her curiosity.
“Mum! Can I get more pellets?”
“Sure son…just don’t overfeed the poor rabbit.”
As the exchange continued, Jeff snr. asked Tisa whether she solved the mystery of the gentle scratches on her ceiling in her childhood home.
Tisa had all but forgotten the mysterious scratches. She shrugged and followed her only child in the hunt for pellets.
………………..THE END………………
We all have different stories to tell. They are just as unique as we are. It doesn’t matter WHEN you start telling your story, it matters that you START.
What’s your story?
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Of Parts II
“May I have some sugar for my porridge?”
“Tisa! You know you can’t have any sugar! It makes you dance like crazy!”
Tisa giggled as she heaped two spoons of sugar in her little bowl of porridge. She giggled at the memory of dancing on any surface that she could, while Mrs. Sana and her new found family laughed with tears rolling down their faces. She stuffed her mouth while Mrs. Sana’s back was turned so that she could head off on her adventure. As she went to the sink, she slowed down and wondered if she should mention the gentle scratches on her ceiling to Mrs. Sana.
“Bob! You need to tidy up!” shouted Mrs. Sana to Bob’s back.
Tisa smiled and picked a snack as she headed out.
“I’ll be back before tea time Mrs. Sana”
“Ok Tisa. Please be careful.”
The warm sun promised a fun adventure as Tisa walked beside the little stream that bubbled beside the road. She kept her distance from the road but ensured that she regularly stopped to dip her feet in the cool water.
Lost in thought, she looked up and saw that had gone quite a distance from home and could almost see the tree tops of the forest looming in the distance.
“Should I go? Maybe I shouldn’t…No one will know…but what if something happens?”
Tisa wrestled with the thought of proceeding and wondered what Mrs. Sana would say if she learnt of her disobedience.
“I can’t go further…it will upset Mrs. Sana…sigh.”
She nibbled on her snack as she slowly turned to head back home.
“Tisa! Pssssssst!!!! Tisa!!”
She turned to look and saw nothingness. She thought she had imagined it. She turned to continue walking.
“Tisa!!!!”
This time it was louder and more urgent. When she turned, she saw the same nothingness. However, as she turned to ignore the sound, at the corner of her eye, she saw a slight movement and heard a rustle in the distant bush. Her curiosity peaked and she again questioned whether she should investigate or head back home.
Crushed with the weight of possible punishment for disobedience, she stopped to listen more keenly…
…….to be continued
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Of parts
This past week, I read through a book that was supposed to last a month. It is a book that is so well written, that the line between fiction and reality is crossed quite often. The author has the unique ability to draw in the reader and immerse them in a cacophony of emotions ranging from pain to extreme happiness. What am I getting to?
We are all born with a story. A story that is unique to each of us. In addition, some of us are gifted in telling those stories, while others need some help to bring their stories to the world.
Is there someone whose story you want to hear? Have you asked them?
Is there someone whose story you’d like to help them tell? Have you asked them?
In today’s post, I will attempt to tell a story…to tickle your imagination…who knows when and where the story will end? Here goes….
She sat up listening attentively to the gentle scratches on her ceiling. She had been alone for as long as her young memory could recall. She tried to stretch to reach up to the ceiling which seemed just centimetres away, but she couldn’t get her fingertips to brush the surface. The gentle scratches stopped and she waited to hear them again but they didn’t return.
Tisa often woke up to the chirping of the birds or the barking of a distant dog. This morning was no different. She stirred as soon as she heard the sound of the gentle scratches on her ceiling. She gingerly settled into a comfortable position on her bed and listened out again. With each scratch, her curiosity rose. She padded across her room barefoot to get the long broom handle that leaned on the bedroom door. Using it to tap her ceiling, she listened out again for the gentle scratches. But alas, they did not return. With a dismal sigh, she trotted across her room heading to her closet because Mrs. Sana didn’t allow anyone to eat breakfast without proper clothing.
“Two bowls of porridge please!”
“Extra raisins please!”
“Ugh! I hate sugarless tea!”
Tisa listened to the chatter in the small kitchen with a small smile. As noisy as they could get, her friends had quickly become the only family that she knew.
“Tisa! Any longer and you’ll miss your breakfast!”
Tisa could hear Mrs. Sana shouting over the complaints and requests in her kitchen. She slid past the table and got her bowl of porridge. She planned to go exploring later in the day and she always felt that the porridge allowed her to stay longer without having to head back home for lunch.
…….to be continued
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Magic
Many times I have read interviews and seen questions whose purpose is to shed more light. It got me thinking…read on…
Interviewer: Tell me a little about yourself.
Me: I am Nj. A daughter, sister and friend.
(Why do we start with our name?)
“There is power in a name. It is through names that we bring all things into this world, and when they leave, it is names we carry with us, so they are never truly gone.”
― Justin Cronin
Interviewer: When was the last time you did something fun?
Me: ….?
(Why do we become rattled when routine is not followed? Perhaps you expected the second question to be, Where do you work? Or What do you do for a living?)
“The secret of your future is hidden in your daily routine.”
― Mike Murdoch
Routine can be a strength and weakness. Routine helps us and others predict what is going to come next and allow us room for focusing on growth, for example, if the morning routine is – wake up, shower, brush teeth, take a cup of coffee, read for 20 minutes, jog for 1 hour – we do not have to engage our brains trying to think up things to do, and thus use that energy for something else. Perhaps, during the 20 minutes read, we can be struck by inspiration because of the level of engagement we have with the reading material. Perhaps while drinking the coffee, we get to taste the goodness of the berry. Perhaps during the morning jog, we get to feel every muscle and appreciate the marvel of the human body.
“Be spontaneous, never be afraid to try new things or find new ways. Don’t let over-planning and routine poison your life.”
― Mouloud Benzadi
We do not plan with the birds when they will sing their greatest song.
We do not plan with the sun when it will rise.
We do not plan with the skies what colours they will paint at sunset.
But at those moments, magic is seen and felt.
― Muse with Nj
Interviewer: What would you like to say as a parting shot to your readers?
Me: Routine is a good thing, however, magic is not planned.
Reading is an excellent thing, however, inspiration is not scheduled.
Be open to experience, and have a routine that has room for spontaneity.
Interviewer: Thank you.
Me: Karibu sana! (Most welcome!)
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Morrow.
You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today – Abraham Lincoln
Tomorrow. A beautiful word. Holds such promise.
Tomorrow. A magical land where all seems possible. A land full of quests.
Tomorrow. A rich world. Fertile. Ready to grow anything that is planted.
Tomorrow. A land of entrapment. A land of promises yet to be fulfilled.
Tomorrow. An abyss. A bottomless pit.
Tomorrow. An unknown.
I need to write that book – Perhaps I’ll start tomorrow.
I need to make some health goals – I’ll do it tomorrow.
I need to make time to read – I’ll make a schedule tomorrow.
I will need to call my friend to catch up on life – I’m busy today. Tomorrow is a perfect day.
I need to plan for a holiday – I’ll be freer tomorrow.
I continue? I’ll add it to tomorrow’s schedule…
My dear readers, I’m not talking about procrastination. I’ll do that tomorrow.
There lives a story about tomorrow. It will be written…tomorrow. (Muse with Nj)
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Blink ‘n grow.
Deliberately short.
This writer is having a writer’s block. There are many ways of going through this phase. Let me try to elaborate in point form.
- Go for a holiday – this is a perfect inspiration, yes? The answer to all problems? Yes!
- Write about anything – another excellent escape…because filling pages with words is the goal..yes? (read with sarcasm please).
- Wallow – oh yes! Because why not? The world is hard enough without adding other problems to it! (read with more sarcasm).
- Grow through the silence. Now this is where we can sit on a bench and chew the fat! In Be-leaf I spoke of a leaf going through many seasons. Sometimes green, sometimes not.
Grow through it all and Be-leaf
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School of Life
This excerpt is from page 93 of Will Smith’s biography ‘Will’. A very well written biography!
“There is a Buddhist parable that has guided me through many a perilous transition.
A man is standing on the banks of a treacherous, raging river. It’s rainy season – if he can’t get to the other side, he’s done. He quickly builds a raft and uses it to safely cross the river. In joyous relief, he high-fives himself, lifts the raft, and heads toward the forest.
But as he attempts to make his way through the dense tree cover, the raft is banging and knocking into trees and becoming entangled in vines, preventing him from moving forward. He only has one chance for survival: He must leave the raft behind – the vessel that saved his life yesterday is the same one that will kill him today if he does not let it go.
The raft represents our outmoded ideas and old ways of thinking that no longer serve us. For example, the same angry, aggressive persona you cultivated as a child to protect yourself from bullies and predators will now destroy every relationship you have if you’re unwilling to let it go. Things can be perfectly useful and absolutely necessary during certain periods of our lives. But a time will come when we must put them aside or die.
Simply put, if we don’t adapt, we become extinct.”
This excerpt stood out today because the thought of resistance to change has been running through my head for quite a long time. It is natural and quite normal to be resistant to change. The ‘unknown’ is and will always be a mystery. Let me try to elaborate with some examples from the ‘School of Life’.
When you’re brought up in a household that has special seats for each member of the family, you will find it difficult to adapt when you grow your own family with a spouse who is used to a different set-up. However, have you asked yourself why you might be resisting the change? Is it because you’re afraid of what owning your decisions will result in? In the excerpt above, the man realized that it was time to let go of the raft that once helped him, because it no longer served its purpose. Perhaps having special seats for each member of the family has outlived its usefulness!
When you go to a driving school today, you’re taught how to move slowly and forward. On a lucky day, you will reverse…hopefully in a straight line! When you leave the driving school however, you quickly realize that driving slowly and forward won’t always be applicable, especially without someone else guiding your decisions. A perfect example is when you are caught in traffic on a hill. This lesson has yet to appear…and there you are…smack in the middle of it! Will you realize that you need to re-learn how to drive? Will you realize that you need to adapt and let go of the ‘raft’ in order to progress?
When you were taught how to cook, you grew up to realize that cooking was an artform and possibly that achieving the round shape of ‘chapati’ is a skill that required practice! However, when you don’t achieve the shape the first time round, do you examine your technique to determine what has happened? Do you try to change the pressure points on the rolling pin? Do you try to change the rolling surface? Or do you blame the person who taught you how to cook? Do you call them and demand for a lesson on shapes? Or do you change your mindset and grow into the art of successfully making round chapatis? Do you adapt and let go of the ‘raft’?
The decisions you made yesterday/yesteryear, might not help you today or tomorrow.
What worked today, might not work tomorrow.
Learn when to let go of the ‘raft’.
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LISTEN
Poetry time!
I am you.
I ask that you hear and listen to what I’m trying to tell you.
I have no mouth, but our connection is strong.
If only.
I am you.
When you wake at night, I’m right there.
Sometimes I wake you, other times, not.
I may have no mouth, but…
If only.
I am you.
As you sit in comfort, and listen to the never-ending drone of the world.
Sometimes I need you to help me, sometimes not.
I may have no mouth, but…
If only.
I am you. You are me. And we are us.
I thought of this short poem as I sat on the passenger seat of a car, which is a very rare occurrence! It occurred to me that the same way we are drivers of our vehicles, our bodies are our drivers. Both of these send signals when it’s time to review our practices. Perhaps your head hurts to signal that something is wrong with your system. Perhaps your joints hurt to tell you about your diet or posture. Perhaps you feel sleepy because your body is signaling a system shut down. Perhaps your cravings are telling you that there is an imbalance in your body.
Let’s think outside of our physical selves. Perhaps the inertia in your life is signaling a need for change. Perhaps the unhappiness is signaling a need to re-evaluate your choices. On the flip side, perhaps happiness is a signal that you are on the right track. Perhaps your success is signaling that you are doing something right.
Let me keep it short and ask, do you listen for signals? Or you are too busy to even try?
No acronyms this week. Just LISTEN.
