Vulnerability

I feel compelled to explain the absence but I won’t.  I am not really writing for an audience this time.  I am not sharing this because I seek your approval or acceptance.  I am sharing it because I need to feel vulnerable and be ok with it.  To accept it, embrace it and understand that it is not my enemy, it is an aid to my growth as a person, a wife, a parent, an artist and all the other hats I wear.

Being vulnerable is a scary thing.  I know from experience.  I am so good at climbing into my cocoon and adding layers to it that it was almost impossible to get back out again.

What does vulnerability mean?

vul·ner·a·ble ˈvəln(ə)rəbəl susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm.
I always thought that the first time I was really vulnerable was when my father died, but after a lot of soul searching and thinking I realized it was before that.  It was when my family moved back to Egypt from Scotland.  It was a move that I originally wanted and hoped for.  I have always yearned for the feeling of belonging and my 11 year old self thought that living in Egypt would make that come true.  Interestingly, I just finished Brene Brown’s book, The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are and she touches on the difference between fitting in and belonging.
photoI was struck by these two paragraphs.  I used to think fitting in and belonging were the same thing, but according to her they aren’t, and I think I agree with her.  But what does belonging have to do with being vulnerable? Personally, a lot.  It is the root of why I feel what I feel.
After moving to Egypt I never really felt accepted or that I belonged.  I couldn’t connect with friends or the people around me and eventually I stopped trying to belong and started learning how to fit in.  It became so easy and automatic that I don’t think I even realized I was doing it. Honestly, I probably still don’t believe it.
Perhaps the hardest vulnerability is with your self.  To step back and say I will examine my beliefs, I will question them and I will allow them to change and evolve.  Then comes being vulnerable with the people you love.  Accepting that they can see you as you are, flaws, imperfections and all and trusting that they will accept that and cherish it.  It is hard because before you can expect it from others you need to be able to do it yourself.  Am I worthy of love? Is the real me worthy of love and respect?  Questions that we might not really ask but our behavior always exposes.   Because of our ability to hussle for acceptance, we usually go through life without really taking that deep look inside of ourselves.
For me, it is time.  Time to stop and explore.  Take an adventure inside my soul, not my head but my soul.
When my father died in 1999 it was an incredible shock.  It rocked our world almost threatening to demolish everything we ever knew.  I tell this story saying we because it involved three people.  My mother, my sister and I.  And while I do not claim to know exactly what they went through I am pretty confident I can tell the collective story.  My father was not a sick or dying man.  He was a brilliant orthopedic surgeon.  He was 45. But my father was a long time sufferer of diabetes.  It was slowly eating him alive inside out.  But there was nothing on the outside that foretold his death. He went to work that Friday and never came home.  It was his wish that he never have to become an invalid or too sick to work.
To say  that death is terrifying would be robbing death of its true meaning.  Death is a thief.  It takes what we hold most dear and gives nothing back.  Some would say it gives back strength or resilience to adversity.  But that is not death’s work, it is the work of hope and our desire  or need to keep going.  My mother suddenly found herself having to carry a heavy burden, two girls still at university, a home to run, a job to go to, finances to keep straight.  My sister and I were lost.  We had very little support from the outside world.  Yes people might be empathetic in the first few days even sympathetic or compassionate.  There was no grief counseling and no real long term support.
Everything was tough at the beginning.  You have to grow up suddenly.  Without the luxury of time or feeling your way through the process, you are suddenly thrown into life unprepared and definitely not ready.
No one is ever ready or prepared for that kind of thing.  Even people who have lost loved ones after long battles with disease are never really prepared for what comes next.
Instead of reaching out or asking for help we did the exact opposite we clammed up even harder.  I am not blaming anyone or saying that we should have been helped I am just saying that maybe next time if God forbid you have someone close to you dealing with something of this magnitude, remember that they might not ask for help even though they will be needing it the most.
Perhaps one person I will always be grateful for is my grandmother’s cousin, he would drop by every couple of weeks just to ask about it.  For no reason.  No explanation. No justification.  Just an unexpressed offer of support. My mother’s aunt would sometimes drop by with lunch and spend some times with us.  I am pretty sure that they have no idea that what they did is something we valued very much.  Perhaps the simplicity and total honesty of their actions was what we needed the most.
There were many others who did give support in the way they new how.  And to them I will be forever grateful.  Some of them don’t even know that what they did may have saved us or helped us.  My sister has a friend who spent the first couple of days with us.  To her I say, thank you.  My cousins spent the first week with us, to them I say thank you.  And to my best friend who also was there for hugs and support, I am eternally in your debt.
But then life goes one, everyone goes home but the pain and loss don’t.  Suddenly you learn to laugh and smile to mask it and after a while it stops becoming a mask it becomes part of who you are.  It is not an act, it is a natural reflex to pain and hurt and all the horrible things in life that you don’t really know how to deal with.  You stop believing in the future.  You stop trusting the present.  You are not miserable, on the contrary, you lead a good life, but you are never whole and because you never learn to deal with it, it doesn’t go away.
At some point in life we need to stop, tell our story, own it and accept it.  It is what makes us who we are, flaws and all.  These flaws do not make us worse, they are what give us our value.  But for them to do that we need to accept them.  No one in life hasn’t been touched by some kind of adversity and no one is perfect.  Far from that, we are all imperfect.  But we are who we are, and you get what you get.  It is what you do with it that changes everything.
Last year I almost died.  It is a long story that I do not feel like telling today.  But it was another scary moment for me.  It made me go back and forth between I need to be strong and I need to break down. All of this might seem touchy feely or mushy.  Yes true.  But I am not writing this for you.  I am writing this for me, I need to heal.  Because now I know I do not need to be strong on the outside.  I am strong,  I am flexible, I am adaptable and I am a survivor.  But right now I need to be at peace with myself.  True serenity and peace, that stem from the bottom of my being that can carry me into the future,  a future that I so desperately need to believe in.
We carry a lot of baggage with us.  We don’t need to.  We need to travel light.  Take only what you need and keep going.  I am unpacking the bags because it is the only way forward.

2010 in review

And I am back.
This post might be a couple of days too late but, better late than never.
2010 was the year of change and the year of self discovery.
It started out really rocky and stressful and managed to change into a totally different experience.

I started this post yesterday but then couldn’t find the right words.
People who know me, know that I am a woman of few words, but every once in a while I do a lot of talking.
I would like to confess I always have a lot of things to say but I always need a lot of time to decide how I want to express those ideas in my head.

But part of the decision I made in 2010 was to be me and to just say stuff I felt like saying when I felt like it.

2010 was the year I decided to be me again.
2010 was the year I decided to accept my differences and live with them.
2010 was the year I gave myself permission to take over my fear and yes I do still feel afraid a lot of the time but now I am certain I can fight it.
2010 was the year I decided it was ok to say no to relationships I didn’t want
2010 was the year I realized I could tell people no, be more assertive and the world would not end then and there.
2010 was the year I accepted that I was not the right person in the wrong place but the right person doing the right things for the wrong reasons. I just needed to find the right reasons and things that were even more right for me.
2010 was the year I decided to break out of the stereotype I had created in my head
2010 was the year I mourned by father (11 years too late)
2010 was the year I unleashed my creativity.
2010 was the year I decided that unless I would live up to my full potential I would never be happy.
2010 was the year I decided to really stop what people think. Not the people I care about or care about me, but people that don’t matter.
2010 was the year I realized I could do so much more than I ever thought.
2010 was the year I decided to take better care of myself so I could take better care of others.
2010 was the year I found peace inside of me.
2010 was the year I found myself again after so many years of feeling lost. I was never really lost. I just thought I was lost.
2010 was the year I decided on a parenting style.
2010 was a year of change and hope.
2010 was the year I decided to let go of everything I don’t need. Old clothes, books, memories, people, dreams, ideas so I could make more space for the things I really did need and want.
2010 was the year I decided it was ok to want more from life and go after it.

2010 was a good year.

I still won’t make resolutions but that’s ok because I don’t need them. All I really need is to go out and live a full life no matter what life has in store for me

The Keys

Keys

These are my keys. Yes I have a little Miss Naughty keychain. I love the Mr Men and Little Miss series. I found this totally by chance and got two one for myself and a Miss Chatterbox for my sister.

I only have 3 keys. The car key, the apartment key and the key to my mum’s home. And yes I carry a Sharpie pen.
The key to our apartment and the car key need no explanation.

But why I still carry the key to my mum’s home is a long story. The day I got the key was a great day. I can’t remember any of it, but I do remember feeling older and wiser when they gave me a copy. I felt like an adult ready to face the world. But this isn’t the same key I was given. A couple of years later someone lost their key or gave it to my grandmother or something and I had to give my key up and thought I would have to make another copy. I remembered that my dad’s key chain was in my drawer and that it might have a key to the apartment. It did, and that rusty key is the one on my key chain. It is a key that I am not going to give up. After my dad died my mom gave away almost everything he owned in the house except the few things we could save or could not be given away. His keys sat in my nightstand’s drawer and still do. He had this cheap promotional key chain but it had Ayat Al Kursi on it so he liked it. It is green and plastic and had lots and lots of keys on it. I loved staying up waiting for him and hearing the keys jiggle in the door is still a happy memory. Whenever I hear my husband’s keys in the door I get the same feeling. It is a feeling of happiness and safety, that those who have gone out have come back and are safe at home. Keys are symbolic. They mean that you belong someplace. When I first got married I remember the day my husband gave me the key. It was also the same day our furniture arrived and the same day I went out and unlocked the door for the very first time with my own key. The first day of my new life. We have changed the lock a number of times but the original key is in my jewelry box because it is not just a key. It is a symbol.

The rest of the post is in my head but I am getting all emotional so I am going to stop now.

What is on your key chain?
Play along. Take a picture and tell me your story.

Untitled

Ramadan passed so quickly like the rest of our lives.  It feels like it never happened.

I read a quote recently that hit the spot “The days are long but the years are short”

I made a tough decision in Ramadan that I am quite happy with.

Are you happy with your life?

Do you live a purposeful life?

The best skill anyone can learn in life is how to take the lemons that life throws at you and make lemonade.

I finally started reading a new book.

I have so much to say and I keep trying to say it but the words won’t make sentences, not even in my head.

So many ideas in my head that they sometimes give me a headache.

I am happiest when I am challenged.

I am a borderline hermit.

I enjoy people’s company but I would prefer to be alone than to mingle with boring people.

I hope I am not imagining things, but I can definitely almost see the light at the end of the tunnel.

November is just around the corner and I will be a year older, I feel older and younger at the same time.

I am not difficult just different.

When a friend talks about a mutual friend behind her back I always feel that she talks about me behind my back too.

I would love to get an iPhone4.  Do they ever fall out of the sky by any chance?

I wear my fitflops more than anything else.

I have a very bossy 2 year old.

One of the nicest things in the world

is to get an unexpected gift for no reason.  My sister got me this lovely lovely tote.

Peachy Summers

Peachy Summer Crochet Bag[Skip to pattern]

It all started when I went to the local yarn stores in Alexandria.  I could have camped there all vacation.  The first time I only bought some so I could try it out and see how it would feel to work with the stuff.  You buy it by weight and it comes in these humongous cones.  No ball band to tell you what hook to use or what weight this yarn is.

So I sat down to test it with different hooks.

I finally settled on a 4 mm hook.

Am I boring you?

At first I started making a market tote.  A simple rectangular shaped bag but it just didn’t feel right.

I ripped it all out although I was almost half way done.

And started making a circle.

I was sitting in my mom’s living room.

Oh my that living room has the most awesome balcony.  The balcony actually sucks, it is so tiny that my mom closed it years ago but if you open the window, the slightest breeze is like a tornado.  There was a cool breeze making the curtain dance.  It’s a white chiffon curtain that just dances wildly when there’s a wind blowing.

My mom’s living room is yellow.

Seriously!

Many many years ago she decided to paint the rooms and the living room is yellow, her room is a palish pink, my sister’s room is pink and my room is baby blue.

Color is nice, but I am painting all the walls in my house off white and if I ever feel the need for color I will use stick on decals or paintings or posters or whatever.

I stopped working and did a bit more the next day at my grandparent’s farm.

Think of a farm.  Whatever you imagined is nothing like my grandparent’s farm.

It’s more like a villa with a huge garden where my grandparents used to play farmers.  They are both too old and not exactly as healthy as they used to be.

It is where the whole family used to go spend Thursday nights and stay till Friday’s lunch.  With a couple of us married and the rest of us grown up and busy with their own lives it is not as lively as it used to be.

I sat for a while thinking about all of the years that went by.  The events and everything else.  Just like the rows working themselves out in the bag, everything worked itself out in our lives.

I am being really sentimental here.

A couple of days later it was finished and the next time we were at the farm my sister took our my grandma’s sewing machine and made the lining.

It stayed unfinished until this morning when I decided it was time to sew the lining to the bag.

Life is a lot like making bags.  It is OK to realize you want to go back and do something else.  It is OK to ask someone to help you.  It is OK to let life take its time and work itself out on its own.  Nothing stays the same.  People move on.  Life goes on.

I read a quote today from the movie The Incredibles “I don’t look back darling, it distracts me from the now”.  So the next time you sit down to do something, focus on that thing but don’t forget to be grateful for that summery breeze coming through the balcony that became a window.

Lined Bag

Pattern:

Base:

Round 1 Chain 4 (counts as 1 dc and 1 chain), 11 dc in the 4th chain from the hook. [12 dc]

Slip stitch to the top of the 1st dc (top of chain 3 ), turn and chain 3

Repeat stitches in between ** until the end of each round.

Round 2 1 dc in same stitch as  chain 3 *2 dc in each sc.*  Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ) , turn and chain 3. [24 dc]

Round 3 1 dc in same stitch as  chain 3, 1 dc in next stitch *2 dc in first stitch, 1 dc in next stitch .* Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ) , turn and chain 3. [36 dc]

Round 4 1 dc in same stitch as  chain 3, 1 dc in next 2 stitches *2 dcin first stitch, 1 dc in next 2 stitches .* Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ) , turn and chain 3. [48 dc]

Round 5 1 dc in same stitch as  chain 3, 1 dc in next 3 stitches *2 dc in first stitch, 1 dc in next 3 stitches .* Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ) , turn and chain 3. [60 dc]

Round 6 1 dc in same stitch as  chain 3, 1 dc in next 4  stitches *2 dc in first stitch, 1 dc in next 4 stitches .* Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ), turn and chain 3. [72 dc]

Round 7 1 dc in same stitch as  chain 3, 1 dc in next 5  stitches *2 dc in first stitch, 1 dc in next 5 stitches .* Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ), turn and chain 3. [84 dc]

Round 8 1 dc in same stitch as  chain 3, 1 dc in next 6 stitches  *2 dc in first stitch, 1 dc in next 6 stitches .* Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ), turn and chain 3. [96 dc]

If you want a bigger base keep working more rounds, adding one stitch between each increase.

Body

Round 9 – 24 1 dc in each stitch.  Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ) , turn and chain 3 [96 dc]

If you want a taller bag add more rows of even dc stitches before doing round 25.

In the next two rounds you will be decreasing to give close the top opening a bit, I was too lazy to count so just decided on decreasing every 5 stitches then every 4 stitches so the stitches aren’t even.

There decreases aren’t even.

Round 25 1 dc in next 4 stitches, 1 dc decrese *1 dc in next 5  stitches, 1 dc decrease. *  1 dc in last 4 stitches.  Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ) , turn and chain 3

Round 26 1 dc in next 3 stitches, 1 dc decrese *1 dc in next 4 stitches, 1 dc decrease. * 1  dc in last 4 stitches.  Slip stitch into first dc (top of chain 3 ) , turn and chain 1

Round 27 1 sc in each stitch [70 stitches]

Handles

Round 28 1 sc in next 12  stitches, chain 34, sc in next 24 stitches, chain 34, sc in next 12 stitches. Slip stitch into first sc, not in the slip stitch turn and chain 1.

If you want a longer handle then chain more than 34, a shorter one then chain less than 34.  Simple right?

Round 29 1 sc in all scs and chain.  Slip stitch to first sc, turn and chain 1.  When working in the chains I prefer to flip it over and work in the back ridges, it gives a nicer cleaner finish.

Round 30 – 31 1 sc in next sc.  Slip stitch to first sc turn and chain 1.

Round 32 1 sc in next sc.  Slip stitch to first sc, finish off and weave in ends.

And we’re done here.

If you want to add a rigid base check out this tutorial

Updates, I think

Alexandria Airport Departure Hall

I gave myself a very long vacation.  Well I did blog in the middle and came up with a few posts but they were all written on the same day when I had a hit of inspiration and scheduled.

I am back now.  I had a wonderful vacation with my family.  I always miss them terribly so getting a month with them was a wonderful thing.  I think I should thank my husband for agreeing to stay along for a whole month.  Meesh,  thank you because I know how much you missed Lulu and I when we were gone  and for having to eat junk food while we were gone too.  I would also like to thank my mom and sister.  You probably have seen her comment on many of my posts as “inas””.  Yup my mom reads my posts, comments and makes public comments about my weight gain.  Mummy, I promise to lose the weight and stop being a sissy.  There, a public promise/announcement about my weight issue.  Thank you Meeema  (also known as RJay or Reem my sister) for letting Lulu abuse your face creams, nail polish and perfumes.  I think she is now addicted to the stuff.  My sister introduced my daughter to peel off nail polish now she keeps coming up to me to show me her painted toenails and nails.  I used to think parents were crazy to paint their little girls’ nails but now when I see her smile I totally get why they do it.

It was a long awaited and much needed vacation.  At first it was not going according to my crazy plans or really high expectations but then I gave in and decided that there was no way things were going to happen my way so I might as well enjoy what comes anyway.

Don't they just look gorgeous?

Remember my stack of 11 books?  Well I added another 8 to them.  I didn’t want to buy any, nor did I plan to.  But those pesky books know my name.  They called my name and whispered sweet nothings begging me to buy them and who am I to refuse a book’s plea.  From top to bottom they are:

  1. Feel the fear and do it anyway by Susan Jeffers
  2. رحيق العمر – جلال أمين
  3. وصف مصر في نهاية القرن العشرين – جلال أمين
  4. رصف مصر – عمر طاهر
  5. How to travel with a salmon by Umberto Eco
  6. مقتل الرجل الكبير – إبراهيم عيسى
  7. Think before it’s too late – Edward De Bono
  8. The Black Swan by Nassim Nicholas Taleb

You totally understand why I got them right?  They’re all really really useful books.  Besides they look so pretty.

So warm and cozy

My favorite mug might live at my mum’s house but my second favorite mug lives here.  It even has it’s own cozy and looks so cute.  I really should stop thinking about mugs the way I do.  But mugs are really important.  I mean who doesn’t drink at least 3 cups of coffee a day in their favorite mug?  It has to be the right size, the right color and just fit in your hands perfectly.  Otherwise it’s just a vessel for coffee.  But a good mug is an experience worth having.  Just like the perfect pair of shoes.  You can think of shoes as containers for your feet, or you can think of them as the platform you stand in every day to deal with the world.  They take you from one place to the next.  They take you to greatness, they run with you when you run from fear and they make you look taller or slimmer if you choose the right pair.  The right pair will hug your feet and support you all day long while still looking pretty and nice.  I also feel as strong about my pens ( I love fountain pens) as I feel about mugs and shoes.  I am not an overtly sentimental person but I guess I am a very sentimental person.

Have you ever thought about your two personalities?  Your inner personality (the one that only you knows) and your outer one ( the one that everyone deals with)?  I think my inner personality is an extrovert while my outer personality is an introvert.

Yesterday's rain

Rain in Kuwait

It rained almost all day yesterday.  I love rain.  Coincidentally I turned on my iPod in the car and Tracy Chapman was singing Let it Rain.  Coincidence or cosmic alignment?  I love how a good rain makes everything look clean and sparkly.  It is like the streets just had a shower, now if only the streets smelled like Herbal Essence shampoo I would be in heaven.  I am going to miss winter.  I always miss winter.  Maybe I should move to a country with colder cloudier climate.  I really shouldn’t drive and take pictures.  But in my defense the light was red and turned green while I was taking the picture.  So technically I wasn’t really driving.

Let it rain

It’s good to be home.  I have big plans but this time they are more realistic plans.  I learn fast.  I so miss crocheting too.  I got lots of lovely cotton yarn at ridiculously low prices compared to Kuwait and the variety was great too.  I should have bought more but I was afraid of being caught by customs for illegal export of yarn.

I had better go now and start working on my new awesome “to do for life” list because it is really long and I really want to tick off everything on it as soon as I can because I am alive so I have to do all of this stuff I want to do.

I so wanted to be Nancy Drew when I was a kid

Really, I did.  Did anyone else want to be Ms. Drew?  I thought she was awesome.  The sharp young red head was my super hero.  She didn’t have any super powers except her brain so I thought I could eventually be like her.

I was at Jarir this morning and came accross these books and felt really happy.  Happier than a 10 year old nerd in a library.

I read all the copies that were available at our public library when we lived in Scotland.  Then my parents got me some more.  Unfortunately my mom gave them away to a second cousin or cousin a couple of years back.  I thought of buying one, but I am not buying any books until I finish the ones I already have so boo hoo.  I turned around and saw a shelf full of TinTin and Asterix books.  Other favorites but not as dear as Nancy Drew.

Oh well, maybe when Lulu is older I can introduce her to Nancy Drew.

Who was your favorite fictional character as a kid?

11 Books

I am so behind on my reading.

All of these books, sad that I haven’t read them yet.

I’ve been reading Istanbul for what feels like forever now.

Edited: The books from the top are

Atyaf

Sale7 Heisa

Awlad 7aretna

Resalat el Basa2er fel Masa2er

Azazeel

Istanbul

The girl with the dragon tattoo

Eat, Pray, Love

Talk to the Hand

e

Snow

Introspection

“And,
when
you want
something, all the
universe conspires
in helping you
to achieve it.”
The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
“Do not fear to be eccentric in opinion, for every opinion now accepted was once eccentric.”
Bertrand Russel
I went shopping today. Some people enjoy shopping, I am neutral. I do enjoy browsing books, shoes and handbags but clothes don’t really excite me as much. The world was either conspiring against me or totally trying to help me. Everything I liked was in a size 8 or 10. Since I am neither of these, the universe was either telling me to become a size 8 or telling me to go have a sandwich. I didn’t get a sandwich.
Why do we gravitate to certain styles? Almost every item I picked had a distant cousin in my past wardrobe. It was either a similar color or style to what I already own and love. Do we like familiarity? Do we enjoy the feeling of safety? Are our preferences part of our past, present and future? Are they part of our DNA? Is our sense of style part of our nature or nurture? I think in my case it is more of my nature, otherwise I would be wearing florescent track suits which are apparently quite in at the moment.
Every shop had different music playing. Sometimes I stopped, slowed down and listened and some music just had me running out the door. Do they ever think of what they play? Has anyone ever composed music specifically for playing in stores or different store types? That could be a huge market niche.
Have you ever noticed how some mirrors make you look amazing and others just make you look frumpy, even though neither are in a house of crazy mirrors? Shouldn’t they manufacture special mirrors for store fitting rooms?
Some people were shopping with their friends and some were alone. What does it say about you if you need someone with you? What does it say about you if you are always on your own?
How many of the smiling sales people were unhappy today?
How many felt tired or homesick?
Yet they were all smiling and very helpful.
Do you ever wonder about people who you only meet once and will probably never meet again?
I went into Virgin. I thought I might look at the books and gadgets. I didn’t want to buy anything but I got lost inside. Not just inside the store, but inside my head. I looked at all the books. Did I want to read fiction? Not really. Might I be interested in a biography? Yes, but I wasn’t in the mood to buy anything, I just wanted to look at the world from inside my head and then look at my inside from the world outside. I saw the self-help section. Lots of books, do we all need so much help? Do these books work? I moved to the children’s section. Colorful, funny, interesting and educational. Lovely books. Memories. Ramona The Pest, Dr Seuss’s books and lots of others. If only life could be as colorful as a child’s story book. For some reason when I read books meant for children I can hear myself narrate it in my head using all the funny voices I can imagine. I daydream some more. I get out of Virgin feeling happy and content. Bam! Cinnabon is right accross Virgin. The smell of the freshly baked cinnamon buns torture my senses. I can hear them calling my name and tickling my nose. I remember the universe and its conspiracy with the size 8 dresses and I walk away.
I go into a store and look at handbags. I wonder who will buy them, what will they carry and where will they go. Do the bags care? If they did, what would they want to carry? Where would they want to go? Does it matter? Should it even matter to me? I think of my own handbag. It was an impulse buy so many months ago, when I decided I would change my life. I got out of my comfort zone and bought something that appeared on the outside so different from what I would usually buy. But is it really that different? It is black and practical, yet it is funky and interesting. Maybe that is who I really am but I just don’t know it yet.
I walk around some more and find myself in front of the fountain. I love watching fountains, I love watching water even if it is still. Still water runs deep. Am I not like that? Who am I? What am I doing with my life? What have I chosen and where will all of these choices take me? Does it matter?
Friends are sharing coffee and brunch in tables around me. Some are laughing, some are sad, some are working and some are sitting alone. Tomorrow the scene will be the same but the actors will be different. There’s a young mom with a crying baby probably six months or so, I look at her and smile and tell her that everything will get easier. She relaxes a bit, smile backs and looks grateful. Her baby stops crying. The world does not stop and neither should we. We are always on the move. Even when we are very still we are moving, growing older and thinking.
I am back in my car.
I sit down and think, I start the car and put it in reverse. I learned to drive more than 10 years ago. I realize that now I don’t think about it anymore. It has become a skill that I can do without thinking. How many other things were really difficult but are now part of our daily routine? Should I turn on the radio or should I find my iPod? I decide to do neither I am really enjoying the conversation in my head.
I take the long route home because the sun is shining and I feel serene.
I am back home and I am totally alone again. I realize that I struggle with my own demons on many days but not today. Today they have chosen to let me be. To just enjoy the world as it is.
I am grateful for that and I thank them.
Tomorrow we will fight another battle, but not today.