So...it has been a while
I'd rather refrain from posting anything personally right now, as it may seem super dramatic. So, instead, I have found the last place of declaring my undying love for Leonard Cohen [Sar, stop laughing...remember when I had to rush home to read this to you haha]
Oh Leonard....only he can pull off being dramatic;
The Book of Longing
I can't make the hills
The system is shot
I'm living on pills
For which I thank God
I followed the course
From chaos to art
Desire the horse
Depression the cart
I sailed like a swan
I sank like a rock
But time is long gone
Past my laughing stock
My page was too white
My ink was too thin
The day wouldn't write
What the night pencilled in
My animal howls
My angel's upset
But I'm not allowed
A trace of regret
For someone will use
What I couldn't be
My heart will be hers
Impersonally
She'll step on the path
She'll see what I mean
My will cut in half
And freedom between
For less than a second
Our lives will collide
The endless suspended
The door open wide
Then she will be born
To someone like you
What no one has done
She'll continue to do
I know she is coming
I know she will look
And that is the longing
And this is the book
- Leonard Cohen
Friday, November 14, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Contribution
In the spirit of the Holy Month of Ramadan (ding dong) please accept my charitable contribution for today.
I hereby grant you access to my verbal (typo-graphical) splutterings and other ridiculous ramblings, as and when.
Allow me to introduce myself- actually, I'd rather not as I'm not sure how I would do so without giving away all identities on this blog, so let's leave it for now.
I have been summoned to Iftar (not that I'm fasting) I'll have to excuse myself for now, but will be back to discuss the hypocrisy of this month in the Arab world...
Thoughts and comments always welcome...
I hereby grant you access to my verbal (typo-graphical) splutterings and other ridiculous ramblings, as and when.
Allow me to introduce myself- actually, I'd rather not as I'm not sure how I would do so without giving away all identities on this blog, so let's leave it for now.
I have been summoned to Iftar (not that I'm fasting) I'll have to excuse myself for now, but will be back to discuss the hypocrisy of this month in the Arab world...
Thoughts and comments always welcome...
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Forgive me
It’s been a while. A long, unnecessary while… a while so long that if this was a movie, I’d be on my knees in a wooden box with a tiny window separating me from a man who has no relation to me whatsoever and whom I will call “father”, I will ask him for forgiveness for something completely stupid like missing the toilette and spraying the bathtub, and he will forgive me for it. Of course this is entirely under the assumption that I am a Christian... and that I believe in bullshit.
However! This is not to be the topic, nor content of today’s post. And because there really is no excuse for my lack of brain vomit, I won’t try really hard in coming up with anything remotely convincing. In fact, I won’t try at all.
Instead, I’ll fart out what could vaguely be defined as a post, to which you will laugh, cry, think, believe everything I say and go home remembering nothing whatsoever.
This week alone has been as entertaining as a homosexual budgie.
Not only did I think the holy month of Ramadan was in October, but – despite my extremely busy schedule between picking my toe nails and squinting at my Mac, looking and feeling like the harassed banshee I just might be (Yes I’m a sexy-squinting-toe-nail-picking beast who lives in a cave and use bunnies as a loofa) - had lunch with a friend whom I haven’t seen in two years; and then dinner that very same night (talk about rebel!) with friends I haven’t seen in five years.
As suspected, precisely like a fine wine that gets better with age; I had more fun with the five-year-friends than I did with the two-year one. OH the irony.
I do realise that this is not a good example of my ability to keep in touch with those whom I consider to be friends. I suppose it’s pointless asking you to trust me this is not always the case…? But do note the mention of an extremely busy schedule.
In all seriousness now: I’m sorry. It’s been a while, and I have truly missed writing to nobody in particular. Nothing exciting has happened since the last post, hence the M.I.A persona. I am hoping things will change and I’ll have more to talk about. But for now, it’s been pretty quiet and probably not as bad as I've made it out to be.
However, should you feel the tiniest bit of interest in how my lunch and dinner dates went, I shall oblige you in a summary of the mentioned events:
My lunch date was spent listening to people I didn’t really like, talk about nothing in particular. Like the weather. I’m very sure they felt the same. And, my dinner date was lovely, thank you for asking. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Good food, good company, and good wine. It was fun. Wish you were there. Kodak moment.
I hope for your sake, the next post is more entertaining.
Your turn.
--p.
However! This is not to be the topic, nor content of today’s post. And because there really is no excuse for my lack of brain vomit, I won’t try really hard in coming up with anything remotely convincing. In fact, I won’t try at all.
Instead, I’ll fart out what could vaguely be defined as a post, to which you will laugh, cry, think, believe everything I say and go home remembering nothing whatsoever.
This week alone has been as entertaining as a homosexual budgie.
Not only did I think the holy month of Ramadan was in October, but – despite my extremely busy schedule between picking my toe nails and squinting at my Mac, looking and feeling like the harassed banshee I just might be (Yes I’m a sexy-squinting-toe-nail-picking beast who lives in a cave and use bunnies as a loofa) - had lunch with a friend whom I haven’t seen in two years; and then dinner that very same night (talk about rebel!) with friends I haven’t seen in five years.
As suspected, precisely like a fine wine that gets better with age; I had more fun with the five-year-friends than I did with the two-year one. OH the irony.
I do realise that this is not a good example of my ability to keep in touch with those whom I consider to be friends. I suppose it’s pointless asking you to trust me this is not always the case…? But do note the mention of an extremely busy schedule.
In all seriousness now: I’m sorry. It’s been a while, and I have truly missed writing to nobody in particular. Nothing exciting has happened since the last post, hence the M.I.A persona. I am hoping things will change and I’ll have more to talk about. But for now, it’s been pretty quiet and probably not as bad as I've made it out to be.
However, should you feel the tiniest bit of interest in how my lunch and dinner dates went, I shall oblige you in a summary of the mentioned events:
My lunch date was spent listening to people I didn’t really like, talk about nothing in particular. Like the weather. I’m very sure they felt the same. And, my dinner date was lovely, thank you for asking. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Good food, good company, and good wine. It was fun. Wish you were there. Kodak moment.
I hope for your sake, the next post is more entertaining.
Your turn.
--p.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Something to Share
I have been reading a lot of Hamza Yusuf lately. I don't know why I find this exerpt from an old interview of him, so powerful.....[especially the third paragraph].
"His [Hamza Yusuf] great concern is that Muslim thinking has sunk into theological shallowness that allows violent fundamentalists to fill the vacuum. Colonialism and successor powers, he contends, dismantled the great Islamic learning institutions, leaving a poverty of great scholarship.
"We Muslims have lost theologically sound understanding of our teaching," he says. "We are living through a reformation, but without any theologians to guide us through it. Islam has been hijacked by a discourse of anger and the rhetoric of rage. We have lost our bearings because we have lost our theology."
He has been examining the backgrounds of the extremists. The consistent feature, he says, is that they have been educated in the sciences rather than the humanities. "So they see things in very simplistic, black-and-white terms. They don't understand the subtleties of the human soul that you get, for example, from poetry. Take the Iliad, for example. It is the ultimate text on war, yet you never know whether Homer is really on the side of the Greeks or the Trojans. It helps you understand the moral ambiguities of war."
Yusuf's language has a rare cultural fluency shifting easily between the Bible and the Koran, taking in, within a few breaths, Shakespeare, Thoreau, John Locke, Rousseau, Jesse James, Dirty Harry and even, at one point, the memoirs of General George Paton: "Did you realise," he asks, "that Paton wrote in his diary on his first day in Morocco, 'Just finished the Koran. A good book. Makes interesting reading.' " - The Guardian
"His [Hamza Yusuf] great concern is that Muslim thinking has sunk into theological shallowness that allows violent fundamentalists to fill the vacuum. Colonialism and successor powers, he contends, dismantled the great Islamic learning institutions, leaving a poverty of great scholarship.
"We Muslims have lost theologically sound understanding of our teaching," he says. "We are living through a reformation, but without any theologians to guide us through it. Islam has been hijacked by a discourse of anger and the rhetoric of rage. We have lost our bearings because we have lost our theology."
He has been examining the backgrounds of the extremists. The consistent feature, he says, is that they have been educated in the sciences rather than the humanities. "So they see things in very simplistic, black-and-white terms. They don't understand the subtleties of the human soul that you get, for example, from poetry. Take the Iliad, for example. It is the ultimate text on war, yet you never know whether Homer is really on the side of the Greeks or the Trojans. It helps you understand the moral ambiguities of war."
Yusuf's language has a rare cultural fluency shifting easily between the Bible and the Koran, taking in, within a few breaths, Shakespeare, Thoreau, John Locke, Rousseau, Jesse James, Dirty Harry and even, at one point, the memoirs of General George Paton: "Did you realise," he asks, "that Paton wrote in his diary on his first day in Morocco, 'Just finished the Koran. A good book. Makes interesting reading.' " - The Guardian
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The Sunscreen Song
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked….You’re not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you
Sing
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss
Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..
Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen…
- Baz Luhrman
___________________________________________
I can't wait :)
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked….You’re not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you
Sing
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss
Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..
Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen…
- Baz Luhrman
___________________________________________
I can't wait :)
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Decisions
My whole life, I have wondered if I would ever find the solution to easy decision making.
I remember assuring myself during grade school that decision making would get easier as I got older, because as we get older, things become clearer. We get to understand who we are, what we want, and where we want to go; and suddenly that arduous decision of choosing whose house I would sleep over at, or whose party I would attend, or whose best friend I would become - seems so irrelevant.
With age, I was enabled greater freedom to making decisions pertaining to my life.
Suddenly, I found myself drawing out SWOT analysis charts to decide where I wanted to go to university, what I wanted to study, where I was going to live, and perhaps most importantly, what I was going to do with my life after. This, was hardly a notch down in intensity from the trivial decisions that so plagued me as a child.
My fickleness in decision making has inundated me since childhood.
I remember as a child, sleeping over at my friend's house - and waking up in the middle of the night realizing that I had changed my mind; and wanted to go back home. Much to the dismay of my parents of course, who had to come pick me up at three in the morning.
The thing is, I don't know if it’s the binding commitment that a decision is associated with, the sole liability related to the outcome - or if it's simply the thought of narrowing down so many options to JUST one - that frustrates me.
Looking back, I think it is my apprehension to missing out on opportunities that is my greatest weakness. I tend to find myself making decisions that allow me the greatest flexibility to change my mind, just incase I find that the grass is greener on the other side; yet again.
Over time, I have come to realize that decision making is as simple or complex as one makes it. And a decision is only as valid as the circumstance allows.
Nothing in life is permanent.
At the end of the day, I try to ask myself this question when making a decision,“Would I rather deal with the regret of taking that decision [after realizing it wasn’t the best choice]; or wonder for the rest of my life what would have happened had I made that decision [upon giving it up for something else]”
I remember assuring myself during grade school that decision making would get easier as I got older, because as we get older, things become clearer. We get to understand who we are, what we want, and where we want to go; and suddenly that arduous decision of choosing whose house I would sleep over at, or whose party I would attend, or whose best friend I would become - seems so irrelevant.
With age, I was enabled greater freedom to making decisions pertaining to my life.
Suddenly, I found myself drawing out SWOT analysis charts to decide where I wanted to go to university, what I wanted to study, where I was going to live, and perhaps most importantly, what I was going to do with my life after. This, was hardly a notch down in intensity from the trivial decisions that so plagued me as a child.
My fickleness in decision making has inundated me since childhood.
I remember as a child, sleeping over at my friend's house - and waking up in the middle of the night realizing that I had changed my mind; and wanted to go back home. Much to the dismay of my parents of course, who had to come pick me up at three in the morning.
The thing is, I don't know if it’s the binding commitment that a decision is associated with, the sole liability related to the outcome - or if it's simply the thought of narrowing down so many options to JUST one - that frustrates me.
Looking back, I think it is my apprehension to missing out on opportunities that is my greatest weakness. I tend to find myself making decisions that allow me the greatest flexibility to change my mind, just incase I find that the grass is greener on the other side; yet again.
Over time, I have come to realize that decision making is as simple or complex as one makes it. And a decision is only as valid as the circumstance allows.
Nothing in life is permanent.
At the end of the day, I try to ask myself this question when making a decision,“Would I rather deal with the regret of taking that decision [after realizing it wasn’t the best choice]; or wonder for the rest of my life what would have happened had I made that decision [upon giving it up for something else]”
Friday, July 25, 2008
Reflections
I remember the pride and contentment that came over me as I watched the cashier type busily away on the cash register, intermittently sneaking a smile at me. “Mom, Dad; when I grow up, I’m going to be a cashier”. This was my first proclamation of my future career intentions, announced at the ripe age of 5. I recall telling my mother how “cool” I thought it would be to meet a slew of random people at one time, and be able to keep all that money she stored in the cash register! To me, it was the most glamorous job: being popular and rich at the same time! What was not to like? However, my career aspirations didn’t just stay there. For the next 13 years, I would jump from wanting to be a teacher, doctor, writer, politician and lawyer.
Maybe I adopted an early aptitude to changing careers. But the person I am today was shaped by the different environments, and nomadic lifestyle I have experienced. I am, what sociologist, Ruth Hill Useem, so famously coined, a Third Culture Kid. This emerging global “subculture” is often characterized by children who constantly move countries, integrating their new, adopted “culture” to their birth culture. This results in a third “multi-culture.”
Growing up in 6 countries, I feel I have an element of each country in me. I am from neither my parent’s backgrounds: not fully Dutch, nor Iraqi. I am not Emirati, Swiss, Egyptian or Canadian. But I like to think that I am a bit of everything.
One symptom, however, which I think was greatly influenced by my circumstance, is my love for interacting with people. Moving around has perhaps shrunk the world in my eyes, and I find myself often seeing the similarities among people rather than the differences.
Despite many mocking me for my fickleness in choosing my career ambitions, I see a thread that links them together: the notion of communication as a vital and integral part of their success. A teacher will fill her student’s heads with new knowledge. A writer will inspire with their words. A doctor will cure with hands. A politician or lawyer will use rhetoric to persuade. All of these actions utilize our senses of listening, talking, writing, understanding and ultimately representing.
To me, communication is not only about a message, but rather about the delivery of the message. In my opinion, communication is the most important attribute of human behavior. It is what brings cultures together, as it has for me. It is what broadens our horizons. But in my opinion, communication is the antidote to all ignorance.
Maybe I adopted an early aptitude to changing careers. But the person I am today was shaped by the different environments, and nomadic lifestyle I have experienced. I am, what sociologist, Ruth Hill Useem, so famously coined, a Third Culture Kid. This emerging global “subculture” is often characterized by children who constantly move countries, integrating their new, adopted “culture” to their birth culture. This results in a third “multi-culture.”
Growing up in 6 countries, I feel I have an element of each country in me. I am from neither my parent’s backgrounds: not fully Dutch, nor Iraqi. I am not Emirati, Swiss, Egyptian or Canadian. But I like to think that I am a bit of everything.
One symptom, however, which I think was greatly influenced by my circumstance, is my love for interacting with people. Moving around has perhaps shrunk the world in my eyes, and I find myself often seeing the similarities among people rather than the differences.
Despite many mocking me for my fickleness in choosing my career ambitions, I see a thread that links them together: the notion of communication as a vital and integral part of their success. A teacher will fill her student’s heads with new knowledge. A writer will inspire with their words. A doctor will cure with hands. A politician or lawyer will use rhetoric to persuade. All of these actions utilize our senses of listening, talking, writing, understanding and ultimately representing.
To me, communication is not only about a message, but rather about the delivery of the message. In my opinion, communication is the most important attribute of human behavior. It is what brings cultures together, as it has for me. It is what broadens our horizons. But in my opinion, communication is the antidote to all ignorance.
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