conNecteDD

It's been a while...

Motherhood happened and I stopped writing. I needed some time to "get it". And I found it difficult to be honest in my writing so I stopped writing. 

Being a mother changed me. 

I knew it would, but I didn't know how. So many mixed emotions and unresolved feelings, for myself and my children. 

So I experimented different roles, different personalities. And not sitting with any. 

I met many moms, many women, many humans that were doing things that i wanted to do. I had many ideas and projects and didn't find the resolve to do them. I felt tired all the time. And I became TIRED. And it felt good for a while but it didn't last.

What's that thing, GUIILT. Yes, that was all over. Guilt for doing and for not doing. 

I gave room to OTHERS. Many people. I felt comfort in giving, hoping that I would reveal myself again, in giving, you know sort of find my calling, something like that. but I just grew more TIRED. 

There was just EMPTINESS. The kind you feel after doing the same things over and over again, until you've perfected it like a machine...and then theres no thought or feeling, just moving from one action to another.

I found myself there many times. And I didn't feel like trying to resurface, there was some comfort in that emptiness. As if I was watching people from outside my body. And everything was just so. I was still there, but not quite. Anyway, I couldn't stay there very long in this space. Because it just grew... so at various points I would return to life in colour. 

Somehow I am here again. Present. I feel awake, connected. 

Being You

 Quote from the movie: Akelaah and the Bee

Akeelah: [quoting Marianne Williamson] Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
Dr. Larabee: Does that mean anything to you?
Akeelah: I don't know.
Dr. Larabee: It's written in plain English. What does it mean?
Akeelah: That I'm not supposed to be afraid?
Dr. Larabee: Afraid of what?
Akeelah: Afraid of... me?

'Justice for Brandon'

 I came across this site and I signed the petition. I do not know all the facts, and I am conscious that I may be biased on my decision to do this. But what I do see is a case with lots of flaws and a young man, with no criminal history, that was put in jail for 12 years. When this young man leaves prison he will be a changed person, he will no longer have the same dreams and aspirations he did when he first went in.

I want us to make this world a better place to live, a safer place to live. And this won't happen if we give up on youth like this. We put them away and we forget about it. Before taking someone's freedom away we should at least look at the evidence put forward and analyse it. If that is all we have to go with, then we owe it to the future generations to think before we act.

Personally I do not believe in Justice but I do believe in fairness. And I don't think this was a fair trial.

'Justice for Brandon'

<div id="change_BottomBar"><span id="change_Powered"><a href="http://www.change.org/" target="_blank">Change.org</a></span><a>|</a><span id="change_Start">Online <a href='http://www.change.org/start-a-petition'>Petition Form</a></span></div>
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Copy and paste the above link to sign the petition.

Are words powerful?

We are a multiracial couple. My husband brought it up to me, that there is a lot of negativity when black people talk about themselves. The way we say things and refer to our people. And he asked me how I feel about that. He told me that words were powerful. What I made it mean?

I used to think words are just words and that when followed by action they become powerful. We give them whatever meaning they have but they only come to life when you act upon them. 

Yes, I agree that we have a negative talk, but personally I believe that it’s a front, it’s our front. Words hide our emotions, who we are what we do. 

He asks, why do we make constant reference to ourselves by race/colour? Black people this, black people that. I suppose we’ve heard it so many times that we just start talking like that, and in us talking like that it removes power from the western world when they refer to black people this and black people that.

Is there something else? Of course there is. Our race is so messed up regarding its own identity that it holds on to race/colour as an identity that unites us, that keeps us together. Probably, only to realise that it’s all we have at the moment. We’ve lost so much, that there is not much to hold on to, to share. What we do share, is the love for our continent and hope that one day we’ll all return to Africa, and that Africa will be big and better. 

Wouldn’t it be more powerful if we talked positive? Oh God, yes it would be. What I do say to myself, is that we take so much shit on a day to day basis, that we can talk negative if that helps to vent the frustration. Do we make it mean something? We definitely do - a lack of belief in ourselves, our people as a race, the great future of Africa. Generally we don’t believe, but we want to. We want to believe. I want to believe. We joke about it with our negative talk; I think that it softens the blow if it doesn’t happen. It was the same when Obama was running for president, many of us didn’t believe he would make it, and we talked negative to soften the blow if he didn’t make it but we hoped that he would make it. He did make it, and then our thoughts changed to ‘how long will he last’. Not as a president, but as a black man in power. And there it is the ‘race issue’ again.

Does the divide really exist? I’m sure it does, for many it lives in our heads, it feeds on our fears, it feeds from our past, it feeds from our own existence. I think of my grandmothers and how lucky I am to have them, but all the wisdom that they have will go when they go. And that is how things are. We try to hold on to our history, past, to make it mean something about our purpose in earth, in life. Is it important? That’s a good question and one for which I do not hold the answer.

I suppose it helps us remember what can be achieved, what we can do, how far we can go. It helps us to do greater and better things.  It helps to believe that we can do whatever we set ourselves to do, because our forefathers have done it before us. But to be fair we can do that even without a past, we can create our own reality today, whatever we want our tomorrow to be.

Are words powerful? When I look back I don’t look at the words that my ancestors have said. I look at their actions. Yes, words have their place and they grow stronger if followed by action.

Kizzy

20/10/10

People Do What Works

I've taken a year off life to live, as it where. And it was in this space of possibility not bound by deadlines and commitments that I came across this book 'Life Strategies – Doing what works, Doing what matters' by Dr. Phil (you may know him from Oprah) entitled. It was this book but it could've been any other, any other to help me brake from the cycle of frustration I was stuck in. 

And according to Dr. Phil, people do what works, meaning that even when I engage in a negative behaviour I do so because there is a a benefit for me. That's why the behaviour persists. He offers that the best way to break away from this pattern is by understanding why I do it.

During this time I also read a book by Osho, that supported a similar message with a different angle, and I quote: 'Thinking is borrowed. All your thoughts are given by others to you. Watch – can you find a single thought that is yours. That you have given birth to. They are all borrowed.”

I supposed I find essential to say that before I came across these two gentlemen, I was frustrated with getting the same results over and over again and I was ready to take the necessary action to change. So I started this journey, with this book, to help me read between the lines of my behaviour and understand 'how things came to be this way'.

Besides, I find the exercise of writing very rewarding, catching my wandering thoughts on paper always helps me see things more clearly, and I strongly recommend it to everyone.

We form patterns, that's how we see life, through patterns. When we notice something happening a couple of times, we form a thought process or a decision that says 'that's how things come to be this way'. Seldom we test this notion to know if it's real but it sits there in our unconscious mind subtly guiding our behaviours.

And when you try to understand the world, like I'm doing, all you need to do is look at the prevailing thought of the time to understand the 'force' shaping people's behaviours and influencing their actions, sometimes even to the detriment of rational thinking. Think of the 60's, 70's, 80's what was the prevailing mood, what were people doing then? Think about how people speak, what they are passionate about, what is the prevailing thought shaping their behaviour?

Yesterday, I had an interesting and very challenging conversation with my husband regarding the Trayvon Martin incident. He was asking how come people were quick to condemn and glorify and not to stop and think, according to his perception, and ask some obvious questions:

• What was the thought process guiding this man who shot the kid? Why did he feel threatened? Is he just mad or was there some substance to his fear?
• Why did the media report that a 'black' kid was shot by a man? They could've said a kid was shot. Or why not say a 'latino man shot a black kid', you know for consistency. What agenda did they have in solely identifying the kid as 'black'?
• What is the prevailing message repeated by the media about 'black youth'?

• The incident forced the President to make a statement, I ask, what is the effect of such action at election time?
• “Is there a prevailing message about black people that casts us as victims?” How does a thought process like that affect the identity of a person/ a people/ a culture?

These are all questions that arose from our conversation.

I can't speak for everyone but for a long time I felt myself a victim because I'm black and because I'm a female. This thought process imbued in my every action took away my responsibility for my life and my actions. I blamed everyone else for my circumstances. And the prevailing thought was 'if I was not to blame, then there was nothing I could do, the world needed to change, not me because I was a victim'.

The fact is that a young man was shot by a man. Everything else added to this reality are our own meanings: people's fears and prejudices.

“People assumed that they understood immediately and weren't open to listen to others... Likewise, it shows how we are, for the most part, unaware of the motivations that govern our actions”.ⁱ

For most of us the world that we live in is one of borrowed thoughts and messages. I feel that as a responsible citizen I owe it to myself and others, to identify the messages that condition and shape my thought. To know that as a black woman when I hear the mention of 'Black' my energy is channelled without restraint to my 'black brethren' because of a thought process that guides me to believe that 'black people are always treated unfairly'. And as I know this, I have to stop and consider my blind spot, the things I do not see because it's too upsetting to me.

I feel that Mr. Zimmerman might have been led by a similar belief only in his case, and following the media, his message would be 'black kids are more likely to commit a crime'. A scary thought.

We all engage in this kind of mechanical and unquestioned thought, sometimes with tragic consequences. And the truth gets lost in the noise of our meanings, opinions and interpretations.

People do what works, whether the result is a desired one or not, there's a benefit that guides that behaviour. I would suggest to everyone to take some time to understand why it is we do the things we do, know your blind spots, understand how we learn – or don't – to listen and leave room for measure in our speech, beliefs and conversations. It's important to preserve that space.

“What most people want is not the truth but validation. They want reinforcements for their thinking, right or wrong. They seek out the people and the information that supports the conclusion they've already reached, factual or otherwise. The only things they want to hear are things that make them feel good, that give them comfort for who or where they are, right now... We make ourselves right, because that's what we treasure in life: being right. We make ourselves right by living according to our beliefs.” - Dr Phil.

i Excerpt from Psychoanalyst Darian Leader, in conversation with Jules Evans, founder of the London Philosophy Club, on the issues behind the London rioting for the Psychologies magazine, November 2011.

Ishmael by Daniel Quinn

 

"The price you've paid is not the price of becoming human. It's the price of enacting a story that casts mankind as the enemy of the world"

The movie

"The unexamined life is not worth living... "(Socrates, in Plato, Dialogues, Apology)

I always love the metaphor of actors and movies because we can watch a movie, a good movie, and be so moved and inspired by the performances that sometimes is hard to believe it is a movie. We can tell straight away a good movie from the bad movie. Sometimes we get so wrapped up with the characters, we take in their pain as if it was ours... and whenever we remember the movie it can get us to tears...as if we were seeing it again.

An example comes to mind:  my grandmother watching the Spanish soap operas and hating, of course, the mean girl. Disliking her completely, so much that no matter what other soap operas the woman does, by grandmother still does not like her, in her own words 'That girl is not a good person, she hurt a lot of people'. I tried to explain to my grandmother that it was just her role... but well... 

Perhaps in our lives we were given the script, let's call it 'Survival'. And in this script there are bad guys and good guys, there are the extras, there's me as the main actor and then, surely, there should also be the guy I fall in love with and live happily ever after. Well that is if he is one of the good guys, if he's one of the baddies than my happiness will have to wait.

And maybe that's how we see ourselves, our lives, like a movie, and we can identify all the characters and their roles and what they stand for. There's only one problem, we enact it so well, sometimes we forget that we can take on other roles, play different movies. Like my grandmother, we can't dissociate ourselves from the character we play.

And we believe that we are the person in the story and we follow it through. Because if we are not that person then who are we?

I'm not quite done formulating my theory, but maybe, when we can no longer tell the difference between the role we play and who we are, then here is the moment when something happens. And this is my proposal. We begin believing that 'there's only one side to who we are'. Then we start thinking that if we are a female character than we should behave like the script tells us to, and if we are a male character then we should behave like the script tells you to. Whatever other dimension of  being we have that does not fit into the script it needs to be 'dropped.' Like when we become adults and forget the child we once were. Or like a dog who learns new tricks. And then yes, then we can finally begin building on the 'A type' the one in the script, the one that is generally accepted.


The only thing is that you can't 'drop' being, you can't 'drop existence'. So something happens in our mind, in our brilliant mind. It stores it. It's all stored. Like in a warehouse, or a big library with old books. And sometimes, this 'being' that does not fit in the script comes out. It does so because it's alive, and it's still growing, it continues growing every time we 'drop it'.
And I'm going to call this 'being' Freedom, the one that is natural, without script, the rebel.

So, we're so busy trying to perform the role of our lives that we forget to lock the door of the library, and Freedom, like a child comes out to play. Only very quietly because it can't be noticed. It does not fit with the script, so it sneaks. And when it's out it has to wear different disguises, my favouritte one is Creativity.

And it laughs too, because we don't know it's out. And does amazing things, like movies, construes completely different lives, paints, sings, speaks different languages, dresses differently and it tells amazing stories. And every times it's out it leaves traces, seeds of hinting very subtly that we already have the ability to become anything we imagine. We don't need to practice.

But our script is powerful, it started from the day we were born. Early on we are enroled in the character we are to become. We are told that there's 'the right way to be' and we believe this. And we go through our lives chasing after our tails, feeling bad because we're not good enough, we're not this, we're not that. Hell. And we keep 'dropping' and 'dropping' our being, trying hard to be the character that we are not and rejecting the one we are. And we drop some more, until one day there's no more to drop. And we can finally tell the great story of our lives, the one where we didn't even exist.


We have eyes that don't see, mouths that don't speak and ears that don't hear but there is hope, we still have Freedom.

Imagine if we were told from the beginning that we could be anything and given the tools to be anything. If our script was different....

Imagine.

 Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world

Mind like water

"Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water my friend." - by Bruce Lee

Am I free?

I recently finished reading 'The Matter with Morris' by David Bergen. This book tells of a man plunged into a search for the meaning of justice following the accidental death of his son in the war in Afghanistan. This search takes him to read Socrates, and amongst other things, his quest leads him to pose the question 'Are you free?' to people on the street .

I found myself pausing at this question and wondering to myself 'Am I free'? I can understand that this is not an easy question and any attempt to answer it, is just that, an attempt. Yet, I looked keenly at my life and how my definition of Freedom has changed over time and where I am on that definition today.

I see myself as a free person, in that I have choice. I can choose what to do with my life, where to go, whom to see, what to believe. I also believe that freedom comes with a great responsibility to choose well and we each bear that responsibility, for ourselves and the world at large. I've not always done that in my life.

As a teenager I misconstrued freedom with financial independence. It could have been freedom, but I chose badly and soon found myself managing debts. The illusion that I was in control, was upheld by the fact that I was working and earning money, and as long as I had money coming in I could 'effectively' manage my debt. When I watched the collapse of the financial institutions, it did not take me long to realise that it was the collective actions of individuals that made it happen. Not just the bankers but also the average Joe, who borrowed money to finance a lifestyle he/she knew could not be funded with their own resources. Actions led, ultimately, by greed. Myself included.

'We do not deal much in facts when we are contemplating ourselves. ~Mark Twain

My second conscious experience with freedom came when as a young adult I stopped relaxing my hair and chose to wear it natural. No more worrying about hair salon appointments, now I just get up and go.

I used to spend a considerable amount of time concerned with how I looked, worried about how my hair looked and the clothes I wear. And sometimes if I did not feel good about my external appearance I found it hard to leave the house. This distraction, which takes many forms, I cannot find another name for other than Vanity.
van·i·ty  (vn-t)

n. pl. van·i·ties

1. The quality or condition of being vain.

2. Excessive pride in one's appearance or accomplishments; conceit. See Synonyms at conceit.

3. Lack of usefulness, worth, or effect; worthlessness.

4.

a. Something that is vain, futile, or worthless.

b. Something about which one is vain or conceited.

5. A vanity case.

6. See dressing table.

7. A bathroom cabinet that encloses a basin and its water lines and drain, usually furnished with shelves and drawers underneath for storage of toiletries.

This mistress of deception has been around for a long time and manipulates individuals to search outside for what they need to feel good inside. It survives through culture, history, geographical locations and institutions. It was very difficult for me to see Vanity,  first I thought that it was the 'oppression of white society' and their ideas of beauty that made me forsake my own. Then I moved on to thinking that if my parents had said they loved me more often all would have been well. Then I came to this space where I thought that I didn't love myself enough.

When I stopped blaming others I finally took responsibility for the messages I told myself and I saw Vanity as a distraction that could be easily discarded.

“I wrote these words for everyone/Who struggles in their youth/Who won't accept deception
Instead of what is truth/It seems we lose the game/Before we even start to play/Who made these rules? We're so confused/Easily led astray.” Lauryn Hill in Everything is Everything

After I got married I knocked down a few more of the walls around my heart. The ones I spent time building so I would not get hurt. What I call walls, are no more than stories I told myself about me, people and men, stories that serve no other purpose than to keep me away from people, safe. Everyone has them.

“Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it” - Jalal Ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, Persian poet

Marriage is one of the few rituals we still hold according to old traditions. Very little has changed. I think that the reason why is because it works. It holds a formula that helps keep humanity's excesses in balance by encouraging a way of life that is not just about ourselves, our needs and wants. Encouraging us to loose ourselves everyday a little by embracing the unknown of loving someone without ever fully knowing them.


In my vows I found guidelines to help me choose well. I found integrity by committing my word publicly to the well-being of another, restraint by committing my body to one man and love by choosing love for everyday of my life. And in this space of possibility, freed of man's fears, I saw two human beings choosing to love and respect each other in this context we call world.

Marriage elevated my world to a language I did not know before. One that is about life and permanence.

"Imagine there's no countries/ It isn't hard to do/ Nothing to kill or die for/And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace" - Imagine by John Lennon

Freedom I come to realise is not about having it all, it's about having enough. And I would even go further in saying that the biggest challenge in being free is that once you attain you let it go. When you hold on to it very dearly then you're no longer free. And freedom needs the space to evolve. Personally, I think we're ill prepared for it and I care not for the freedom that sustains itself by taking away from others. There's no need. There's plenty for everyone if we choose to exercise our freedom responsibly and collectively so that other generations can live a full life in this planet we call home.

But nothing changes if we don't confront it and the first premise to this way of life starts with your attempt to question yourself, are you free?

Great link

The natural miracles of antibiotics - check this link to a great site with great advice on being healthy the natural way.

I find it hard to say...

song lyrics by Lauryn Hill


[Lauryn Hill Talking]

...I've written it about the whole Amadou Diallo situation...

...It was such a hot time in the city at that point, I was afraid that if I
put the record out, people would Misunderstand what I meant by "Rebel" and
they just take it to the streets...

[One and only verse]

Ok, yeah, alright...
I find it hard to say, that everything is alright
Don't look at me that way, like everything is alright
Cuz my own eyes can see, through all your false pretenses
But what you fail to see, is all the consequences
You think our lives are cheap, and easy to be wasted
As history repeats, so foul you can taste it
And while the people sleep, too comfortable to face it
His life so incomplete, and nothing can replace it
And while the people sleep, too comfortable to face it
Your lives so incomplete, and nothing can replace it
Fret not thyself I say, against these laws of man
Cuz like the Bible says, His blood is on their hands
And what I gotta say, and what I gotta say, is rebel
While today is still today, choose well
And what I gotta say, is rebel, it can't go down this way
Choose well, choose well, choose well...
...choose well, choose well, choose well
And while the people sleep, too comfortable to face it
Your lives are so incomplete, and nothing, and no one, can replace it
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
And what I gotta say, and what I gotta say
And what I gotta say, and what I gotta say
And what I gotta say, and what I gotta say
And what I gotta say, and what I gotta say
Is rebel... rebel, rebel, rebel, rebel, rebel, rebel
Rebel, rebel, rebel, rebel, rebel
Repent, the day is far too spent, rebel... rebel!
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up...
Wake up and rebel
We must destroy in order to rebuild
Wake up, you might as well
Oh are you... oh are you satisfied
Oh are you satisfied
Rebel... ohhh rebel
Why don't you rebel, why don't you rebel?
Why don't you rebel?
I'm fading myself down now...

The Actor...

I think that as children we get it. We get life.

As children we notice when our freedom is being taken away, more so than we do as adults. Back then we protested and we put a hell of a fight.

We felt the world of 'conventions' pushing into our freedom and we screamed our lungs out.Those moments when it's no longer o.k to wear diapers, no longer o.k to suck your dummy, no longer o.k to play with dolls.

It happens very gradually and we're groomed from birth into the 'right behaviours'. We are told even before we know it that we are 'a girl' or we are 'a boy' and we're taught the behaviours that go with that role. We are given a name then we are taught how to respond to the calling of our name and once we identify with our name, we identify with the story that comes with it.

We are taught to speak in someone else's language with someone else's meanings and we learn to communicate in this way. And we believe 'this must be the right way'.

Sometimes, during adolescence we rebel, we act out of our role. We experience a freedom that we feel is owed to us, we try to manage our journey, we question our parents, the institutions of knowledge, we question it all. Because in that brief period we don't believe in the story we're being told and we want to create our own.

But eventually we conform, we're told 'that's not the way we do things here' and we become afraid of losing something.

We're not quite clear what it is we are afraid to lose, we conform and we follow the rules that have been around before we were borne, and evidence shows that they worked well for our fathers and those before us. So we believe 'this must be the right way'.

Sometimes during our adult life, we do feel pangs of panic, we do feel as if the life we are living is not our own or is not real. We do feel that we are playing a role. But then in those moments when it does not make sense, we are reassured by our families, our friends, our possessions that the life we live is our own, and all will be alright.

Some of us can't handle the pressure to conform, some of us opt out, others lose themselves in imaginary worlds, others numb themselves into oblivion. And gradually we forget what it is that hurts so much, and we go back to sleep, and we pray and we hope that tomorrow will be a better day.

And if we are 'lucky' and we played our role well, we can write a book about it and maybe it will be turned into a movie and someone else will get to live our life, to be us. Just like that.

We seem to be enacting the story over and over again. Different people, different times, different clothes but same story. You wonder, haven't I heard/seen this before? Yes you have, it's the story of mankind. The story of survival.

Good luck!

Have a little faith

I'm reading Mitch Albom's book 'Have a Little Faith', early days so I can't comment yet. I read his 'Tuesdays with Morrie' and got me to tears is so beautiful. So this is the second book I read.

I would like to share a passage from the book, a conversation between Mitch Albom and his Rabi when he was still a teenager. The Rabi asks him if he thought his parents were perfect, and Mitch, as a teenager replies that they're not perfect but they don't need improvement. Following this, the Rabi says that this saying is very insightful because... and I quote:-

"Because it means you are willing to accept people as they are. Nobody is perfect. Not even mum and dad and that's okay"

Permission to be...

...smart dum informed stupid silly ignorant curious successful failure risky adventurous shy fashionable clueless introvert wannabe scared brave fearful crazy nuts dullally healthy sick smoker crackhead careless perfect talented black white brown yellow orange blue single married gay lesbian homossexual bisexual hemaphrodite rich poor middle-class thief mother father grandparent sister-in-law french english portuguese angolan african european illiterate ugly pretty gorgeous ok fat slim sexy normal obese good bad naughty rebel funky nice honest liar rude disrespectful idealist dreamer realist boring couch potato activist suicidal child adult old young man woman alien tree animal arrogant selfish kind generous greedy right wrong...

Permission to be human granted!

Imagine by John Lennon

Writer: LENNON, JOHN

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace

You, you may say
I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world

You, you may say
I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will live as one

'I am' - the blog

One of my fellow bloggers, Marcela, posted some time ago a request, asking us a community of Angolan bloggers why we blog. This is my answer to that.

I think that most of humanity sacrifices individuality for the benefit of the greater good. Almost as if saying 'I don't matter'.

For me writing this blog is an ego trip, my way of saying actually 'I do matter'.  Ego being that part of my self that wants the praise, the recognition and the applause.

My life is no different to many others out there and 'as I experience I am', that's my motto. And these experiences, this knowledge, questions that I am getting from 'living' I want to record now, as I experience them and maybe one day read them again and see how much I've 'grown'.

I'm on an existentialist journey and maybe at the end of it 'I' will survive or maybe not. And these fragments -  I call them fragments because I've not been able to piece together - my life, I don't understand, so until then I record these fragments, which I sometimes feel, 'are' prior to my existence.

My being  here does not change life, life just is. And I don't think that I will do something extraordinary that I will be remembered for generations to come. But right now I have 'me' and I can use 'me' to understand.

The other process of this 'recording' is to help me remember. Remember that I am human, not perfect, confused, curious, shy, stupid, creative at times, too serious, weak, a being, and that's all right!

Don't we all just live celebrating the past, or trying desperately not to forget our life, through photos, music, writing. We're all trying not to forget the days of our lives...

So this project here, ultimately, is just for me!

Doing the right thing?

There is so much talk about doing the right thing.

As individuals it seems most times we're drawn to doing what is 'right'. I remember one day passionately talking to my brother-in-law about charity work I was doing and how good it was and he challenged me on that, and made me reflect on who was getting the most benefit. As, there are times we think we are helping others, but really we're helping ourselves first, by making ourselves feel good. And there's nothing wrong with that but I have to ask when is 'enough' help 'enough'?

How do we measure the results/impact of our help? How do we assess our own 'work' as such? How do we now that your help is helping to solve the problem. Do we give an individual money or do we teach them how to get it, how to stand on his own? What if that's not what he wants? Are we best placed to say that's what he needs? Don't we need to know someone before we can really offer/provide any kind of sustainable help? Can we really help someone without investing considerable time getting to know the person.

Maybe there's no point knowing. Maybe it's better not knowing them. Most people never really get to know themselves. But how can we truly help someone, anyone at all if we're not interested in them as people? How can we make a difference?

Best help I received in my life came from those who were honest with me, those who weren't trying to make me happy or contribute to my delusions. Best help didn't come in the format of money, material goods or food. It came from attention and love, tough love. And it's the kind of help that you don't see the results short-term, only through growth. It's a long-term investment... I guess there is a place for both to co-exist. But in order to make a difference in the lives of those we want to 'help'  we do need to give up on the short-term satisfaction of feeling good about ourselves and looking good.

I don't know where to start, but I know that there's a lot of 'help' available today that is not good. That is not geared towards the freedom of others, is a 'help' that promotes 'help' and keeps people down.

How can we tell good help from bad help? You let me know.


Definition of Help
help  (hlp)

v. helped, help·ing, helps

v.tr.

1. To give assistance to; aid: I helped her find the book. He helped me into my coat.

2. To contribute to the furtherance of; promote.

3. To give relief to: help the needy.

4. To ease; relieve: medication to help your cold.

5. To change for the better; improve: A fresh coat of paint will help a scarred old table.

6. To refrain from; avoid or resist. Used with can or cannot: couldn't help laughing.

7. To wait on, as in a store or restaurant.

v.intr.

To be of service; give assistance.

n.

1.

a. The act or an instance of helping.

b. Aid or assistance.

2. Relief; remedy.

3. One that helps: You've been a great help. A food processor is a help to the serious cook.

4. A person employed to help, especially a farm worker or domestic servant.

Such employees considered as a group. Often used with the.

Idiom: help (oneself) to

1. To serve or provide oneself with: Help yourself to the cookies.

2. Informal To take (something) without asking permission: The thief helped himself to our family silve

Here we are again!

Every time Christmas's arrives I find myself questioning the season's celebrations. Not so much for what it is but what has become. I recall frantic dashes to the shops to buy last minute presents, stressing out with family over Christmas dinner, and in the end being overwhelmed by the bad feelings the stress leaves. This year though, I'm in Sydney with my husband and it's just us. Being here in a warm country, the daily rituals we would otherwise perform in wintery Europe do not seem to make much sense. Yet, there they are, the Christmas trees, the Christmas lights, Santa Claus dressed in his winter outfit where otherwise is very warm.

And the presents. In the mist of all the consumerism that goes on in this season, I suppose I wonder if we loose touch with the message. The togetherness, being, reflecting, being thankful. Maybe we do, maybe we don't. I actually think it's a bit of both. 

It just made me reflect about rituals and how blindly we follow them. Made me question the value of some of the 'winter theme' somewhere where it is otherwise warm. Not warm, hot. I have hope though. I saw some families who spent their Christmas and Boxing Day by the beach, sort of picnic like.

When I was little I looked forward to Christmas, to the presents I would get mainly. I loved all the food, and watching my aunties in the kitchen. Staying up till late and eating loads. It was great. As an adult, I think I see more of the things that don't work these days. Or maybe I'm coming full circle and understanding the two sides of life. Of this life, right here and right now.

The mind has a tendency to dwell on the negative. I'm thankful for my life, and at times like this, at least right here and right now, I seem to think of those who don't have what I have and wonder on the meaning of Christmas for them. Or even those cultures for whom Christmas does not have a meaning.

This year I've been away from all the little 'traditional rituals' that I would otherwise perform at this time of the year. So Christmas has a different meaning for me this year. Yet I've fully enjoyed, just being with my husband. Having a nice meal, walking by the beach and watching movies until late. In between I thought about others, those who don't celebrate, those who do, those who are no longer here to celebrate. I found myself asking, what is Christmas for me? What does it mean? How would I like to celebrate/spend this time? Does the meaning the Church bestows upon it mean the same to me? Do I have to celebrate because most of the world does? Because my family and friends do?

I know the answers that I'm seeking and trying aimlessly not to take action or to feel justified in not doing so. I can do whatever I want. Fact is I'm afraid to take actions that go against the general agreement. It's easier to just follow the crowd. And that's where I am right now, in this space where I just do or don't and all the rest is just lazy babble.

And in this babble I recognise that Christmas does not have the same meaning for me anymore and I want to create a 'Christmas' that makes sense for me to celebrate. One that takes in what I know and how I feel...

The Risk of Independence

I dedicate this one to my cousin Daniela and my young brother Goncalo, who are entering adulthood. It's a tough transition and there are no written rules to guide you. As you grow, be safe in the knowledge that you have friends and family that will always love you, no matter what you do, as long as you are you. And you have friends with whom you can talk about anything, but you need to reach and be brave to ask for help whenever you need it. Love you both very much.

The passage below was taken from the book The Road Less Travelled by M. Scott Peck


"Thus all life represents a risk, and the more lovingly we live our lives the more risks we take. Of the thousands maybe even millions, of risks we can take in a lifetime the greatest is the risk of growing up. Growing up is the act of stepping from childhood into adulthood. Actually it is more of a fearful leap than a step, and it is a leap that many people never really take in their lifetimes. Though they may outwardly appear to be adults, even successful adults, perhaps the majority of 'grown-ups' remain until their death psychological children who have never truly separated themselves from their parents and the power that their parents have over them.

[...] At the age of thirteen I went away from home to Phillips Exeter Academy, a boy's preparatory school of the very highest reputation, to which my brother had gone before me. I knew that I was very fortunate to be going there, because attendance at Exeter was part of a well defined pattern that would lead me to the one of the best Ivy League colleges and from there int the highest echelons of the Establishment, whose doors would be wide open to me on account of my educational background. [...] The only problem was that almost immediately after starting Exeter I became miserably unhappy. The reasons for my unhappiness were totally obscure to me then and are still quite profoundly mysterious to me today. I just didn't seem to fit. Yet there seemed nothing to do other than try to make the best of it and try to mold my imperfections so that I could fit more comfortably into this pattern that had been laid out for me and that was so obviously the right pattern. Yet my daily life appeared more meaningless and I felt more wretched. [...] when I returned home for spring vacation of my third year and announced that I was not going to return to school. [...] My parents were understandably alarmed and took me forthwith to a psychiatrist, who stated that I was depressed and recommended a month's hospitalisation, giving me a day to decide whether or not this was what I wanted. That night was the only time I ever considered suicide. My brother had adjusted to Exeter, why couldn't I? I knew that my difficulty in adjusting was entirely my fault, and I felt totally inadequate , incompetent and worthless. Worse, I believed that I was probably insane. If I returned to Exeter, I would be returning to all that was safe, secure, right, proper, constructive, proven and known. Yet it was not me. But what was my path? If I did not return, all that lay ahead was unknown, undetermined, unsafe, insecure, unsanctified, unpredictable.  [...] Even if it meant being crazy and out of step with all that seemed holy, I had decided to be me. [...] I had taken my destiny into my own hands.

The process of growing up usually occurs  very gradually with multiple little leaps in the unknown, such as when an eight-year-old boy first takes the risk of riding his bike down to the country store all by himself or a fifteen-year-old goes out on his first date. If you doubt that these represent real risks, then you cannot remember the anxiety involved.

[...] Among all the little leaps we might take, there are also some enormous ones, as when by leaving school I was also forsaking a whole pattern of life and values according to which I had been raised. Many never take any of these potential enormous leaps, and consequently do not ever really grow up at all. Despite their outward appearances they remain psychologically still very much the children of their parents, living by hand-me-down values, motivated primarily by their parents' approval and disapproval (even when their parents are long dead and buried), never having dared to truly take their destiny into their own hands.

But what has this business of growing up to do with love [...]? It is precisely because I valued myself that I was unwilling to remain miserable in a school and whole social environment that did not fit my needs. [...] Secondly, not only does love for oneself provide the motive for such major changes; it also is the basis for the courage to risk them. [...] Finally, it is only when one has taken the leap into the unknown of total selfhood, psychological independence and unique individuality that one is free to proceed along still higher paths of spiritual growth and free to manifest love in its greatest dimensions.

[...] The highest forms of love are inevitably totally free choices and not acts of conformity."

!

Live.