Sunday, March 03, 2013
A Hit below the Belt
This is hilarious … no should not be hilarious. Should make me cry, make me get angry and make me sit up but at the end of the day, I settled for hilarious!! My best friend gave me one hit below the belt two days ago.
When I attend an event, a church service, a seminar or truly even just when I meet people and have a conversation, I debrief the conversation or what I heard on my way back or hours later if my return from such encounters was another event on its own. Sometimes, it takes me days to finally reach some conclusions on what I learnt, heard or made out of a conversation. I somehow take in everything… gestures, expressions, dressing and words spoken. I piece all these information together in my mental debriefing… they all help me to make sense of the event, the encounter and conversation. Sometimes the expressions stay with me for life (depending on who, what and how), sometimes, I shudder at the thought of it and sometimes, I wish I can relive some events.
Recently, I attended a remembrance… I could not remember much that was said about whom we were remembering but I remembered a lot about the shoes that came to the remembrance. I like shoes. I have three main passions in life… God, books and shoes (in that order) so I see shoes, I notice shoes and I smile at shoes. For some strange reasons, only shoes made an impression on me at this remembrance. I came home and hours later, I sent a bbm to my best friend and I told her about the remembrance and how strange it all seemed and then I told her about the shoes and the designers that came. Of course she knows me and shoes so she said that she is happy with her comfort shoes of naturalizer, aerosole and one other brand that I cannot remember. She said she would rather spend the $500 (clearance price in outlet shops) or $1k plus toward vacation. I told her that those are on the cheap side and she said for this brand that I went on and on… she can get one for me for $500 in Neiman Marcus outlet shop during sales… then I said…Oh… I would like to own lots of those when my book has made the New York Bestsellers list…
Now this is when it happened. I could hear her laughter across the space and time… I live in a hemisphere that is six long hours ahead of her, across many oceans… ( I think it is across Atlantic and I am almost so sure, some part of pacific ocean too). My sense of geography is totally warped but that goes for a whole lot of people (Phew! What a comfort!). She responded and said, “that sounds like the man in the glass house”… I could barely remember the story but I remember the book. So I said, I thought that book was about a woman who loved frugality and somehow crossed the line into scavenging and she said... “yes it is, only her husband was going to build her a glass house”… which never was and has not been yet…
I laughed… thought it was hilarious. Then thought… no I should cry because that was really below the belt delivered succinctly and with painful humor… then I resolved that the book will be written this year… at least one will be written and submitted to the publisher… fingers and toes crossed!!
Confront Your Fears (part 1)
“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do things which you think you cannot do” (Eleanor Roosevelt)
The above pretty much captures where I am in life right now. I know the path I want to take but fear seems to cripple me.
I am in transition. That point on the road where there is something. It is a vulnerable state and fear can eat you up… because the path seems so uncertain.
I do not know quite how to navigate out of it. There are things I must do and they may not be “convenient” but as I look back in the courses of my life “convenience” has stolen most of dreams from me and convenience had stolen time from me.
What I see today is fear in a new cloak…did I say new? No, in the usual cloak of convenience rearing up again.
I will jump anyway!!!
I will get off the ship… off the known
I will get off the ship of waiting for convenient time because I may never remember when I lived my life
I may just be waiting for convenient time and my life will be over…
What a tragedy that will be!
“You rarely have time for everything you want in this life,
So you have to make choice. And hopefully, your choices can come from a deep sense of who are”
(Fred Rogers)
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
The Turmoil and the Pretense
This is my second visit to my sister-in-law on this my consulting leadership journey. I like to talk to her for two main reasons among others. First, she has substance and understands professionalism, second, she will tell me the truth without sugar-coating anything because I am not her ‘friend’ so I chose her earlier on in my journey as a resource… call it “sounding board resource”. So we have our second meeting scheduled for today and because I came with my kids (one toddler and a 10 year old), we had to ‘move’ our discussion to another part of the living room area.
Although I have been to this home several times on social visits and family stuff, I have never really sat in this part of the house and have never noticed the painting on the wall staring at me today or maybe I am starring at the picture. My sister in-law was on the phone as we got in and the conversation was a fairly long one so I had time to look around. This picture is the portrait of a woman seemingly serene and at peace with herself… (sort of resigned but not with hopelessness). There was a richness and a fullness around her. On a closer look you get to see four cracks, all joining together to make a complete picture. It immediately appealed to me as if to say “this is your picture…” A lot of effort to appear serene or at peace but with a lot of turmoil and cracks. Although I have not checked out my ‘cracks’ to know how many pieces make the whole, but I am sure it must at least four like in the painting.
Maybe turmoil is a strong word I said to myself but what better word depicts the war or rather wars within… relationship cracks, spiritual cracks, career cracks, motherhood cracks, sisterhood cracks, personal journey cracks, discovery cracks… just mention it… there are crack.
As my sister in-law finished her conversation and came around to sit and discuss, I pointed to the painting and she said “yes it is a good piece, isn’t it…?” “The woman depicting serenity…I promptly cut her off with a loud laugh and this my sister in-law is prim and proper (Buckingham palace kind of prim and proper… no loud laughs kind of a person… you have to laugh with dignity and poise). So she was a little taken aback and I said no “I am relating more to the four cracks (which she called parts) that make the whole and appear serene. I told her that it kind of depicts my life right now… different wars within yet one has to appear to be all together… serene and at peace. We both laughed and got on with the meeting. That image stayed with me…
Although I have been to this home several times on social visits and family stuff, I have never really sat in this part of the house and have never noticed the painting on the wall staring at me today or maybe I am starring at the picture. My sister in-law was on the phone as we got in and the conversation was a fairly long one so I had time to look around. This picture is the portrait of a woman seemingly serene and at peace with herself… (sort of resigned but not with hopelessness). There was a richness and a fullness around her. On a closer look you get to see four cracks, all joining together to make a complete picture. It immediately appealed to me as if to say “this is your picture…” A lot of effort to appear serene or at peace but with a lot of turmoil and cracks. Although I have not checked out my ‘cracks’ to know how many pieces make the whole, but I am sure it must at least four like in the painting.
Maybe turmoil is a strong word I said to myself but what better word depicts the war or rather wars within… relationship cracks, spiritual cracks, career cracks, motherhood cracks, sisterhood cracks, personal journey cracks, discovery cracks… just mention it… there are crack.
As my sister in-law finished her conversation and came around to sit and discuss, I pointed to the painting and she said “yes it is a good piece, isn’t it…?” “The woman depicting serenity…I promptly cut her off with a loud laugh and this my sister in-law is prim and proper (Buckingham palace kind of prim and proper… no loud laughs kind of a person… you have to laugh with dignity and poise). So she was a little taken aback and I said no “I am relating more to the four cracks (which she called parts) that make the whole and appear serene. I told her that it kind of depicts my life right now… different wars within yet one has to appear to be all together… serene and at peace. We both laughed and got on with the meeting. That image stayed with me…
What a long break????
Hello all
I must really apologize for such long break but it has been tough…juggling quite a bit and my blog took the most hit. I embarked on a leadership development program and it has been gruesome in its demands… but I have resolved to find a little time a week to tell you all about it… the intrigues and the scenes behind the scenes. While there is not much of juicy stuff flowing out of academic program but there are stuff happening in the study groups and I have really missed dissing on those… the characters, the charades and other things happening in other areas of my life…
So I am back beginning with this story which happened earlier on as I embarked on this yet another journey… please come with me and share with me… and do not forget to leave your comments… and tell others about the blog…
I must really apologize for such long break but it has been tough…juggling quite a bit and my blog took the most hit. I embarked on a leadership development program and it has been gruesome in its demands… but I have resolved to find a little time a week to tell you all about it… the intrigues and the scenes behind the scenes. While there is not much of juicy stuff flowing out of academic program but there are stuff happening in the study groups and I have really missed dissing on those… the characters, the charades and other things happening in other areas of my life…
So I am back beginning with this story which happened earlier on as I embarked on this yet another journey… please come with me and share with me… and do not forget to leave your comments… and tell others about the blog…
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Death Becomes Us...
Today is one of those reflective days. It is the funeral of a friend and a colleague and I got to there a little early and sitting at the cemetery, the quietness, the solitude and the gloom that hung in the air as the different groups and clusters of people come in to bury their loved ones, it hit me again as it always does at times like this and practically everyday that life is one lonely journey but a lot of people ‘own’ you at death.
The living do not occupy my mind today though but the dead and they surround me with their tombstones perfectly erected and some already falling apart as in life… some are firmly focused on their journey and some fall apart along the way. So here I am sitting down wondering: How did they live… all these names and dates and lovely inscriptions and epitaphs? What did they live for?
My friend struggled a little bit on this journey but that is a struggle only friends know. She had a big smile always and that is what people remember. As I write this piece, I paused to think if and the times that I’d seen her cry. Oh yes she cried…
She had an abusive husband…she cried. She wanted children…she cried. She struggled with her health…she cried. But as much as I remember the times she cried, I also remember the she laughed so much. The times she triumphed and the times she lived.
Death is an end, a window for faith based dead but an end of a particular journey albeit.
Margaret had a dream I’d learn in death but a dream she had. She had a vision and she was headed somewhere… that surely is much like us still living. Did she get there? Did she park on the way? I do not know and we can never tell. Life is about purpose and longevity is promised to no one. No, no one at all but to all of us a dream, a talent has been given.
In the end, death becomes us and that is all of us… Do not put off until tomorrow… today is all you have. Live like it is the end because it is the end in essence…
The living do not occupy my mind today though but the dead and they surround me with their tombstones perfectly erected and some already falling apart as in life… some are firmly focused on their journey and some fall apart along the way. So here I am sitting down wondering: How did they live… all these names and dates and lovely inscriptions and epitaphs? What did they live for?
My friend struggled a little bit on this journey but that is a struggle only friends know. She had a big smile always and that is what people remember. As I write this piece, I paused to think if and the times that I’d seen her cry. Oh yes she cried…
She had an abusive husband…she cried. She wanted children…she cried. She struggled with her health…she cried. But as much as I remember the times she cried, I also remember the she laughed so much. The times she triumphed and the times she lived.
Death is an end, a window for faith based dead but an end of a particular journey albeit.
Margaret had a dream I’d learn in death but a dream she had. She had a vision and she was headed somewhere… that surely is much like us still living. Did she get there? Did she park on the way? I do not know and we can never tell. Life is about purpose and longevity is promised to no one. No, no one at all but to all of us a dream, a talent has been given.
In the end, death becomes us and that is all of us… Do not put off until tomorrow… today is all you have. Live like it is the end because it is the end in essence…
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
The joy of the big bus
What makes you smile?
What excites you?
Although it may appear a simple question but adults will find it difficult to immediately and jubilantly jump and give the answer? Life has choked out whatever it was and now we are not even sure so we look for it in all sorts of places… shops, malls, luxury goods, electronic gadgets, food etc and yet it eludes us so very much.
Recently, I read a number of unusual books ant they are the books I am likely to remember for a very long time, one of them is Life is a Verb by Patti Digh… please get it, read it and pass it on. It talks a lot about the simple things in life and the simple ways we can enjoy the journey and it may be the reason that I started noticing little things and understood for the first time in my life what it means to stop and smell the roses.
On a recent trip to the US, I took my two year old son Popo with me. We first stopped in London and because of I have always seen the London buses, it was part of the city. It did not stand out until my son almost jumped out of the stroller at the sight of his first bus. From then on, we could not take any step further, could not enter any shop or restaurant because we need to watch the buses. Unfortunately, we were on Oxford Street and the bus stream was endless. I was there jumping like a crazy woman to share in his excitement which could not be contained in anyway. Until I convinced him that the train which we need to take to head back to the airport in order to catch our connecting flight to the US is one big bus and so we got on it.
Getting to the US only heightened the new discovery of buses and the excitement continued with the metro buses. His face lights up, he screams “mama big bus” as each metro bus passed. I decided that we will go to as many places as we can via buses. He would not get down when we get to our bus stop. He will scream “no mama, popo not getting down”. Eventually, I will get him off carrying him with him kicking and screaming. We were a sight. Even though it was cold, he never minded as long as we are waiting for the big bus to arrive. If he sees a bus coming even when I say that is not our bus, it will not deter him from yelling “mama see popo bus”.
The mention or the appearance of a metro bus stops him from crying, gets him to behave and a trip on the bus is the highlight of his day each day and if we get off at the end of our trip, he was sad until you tell him that tomorrow is another day for adventure on the big bus.
Although my to do list was utterly changed on this trip on a daily basis, I decided to see the world through his eyes and find joy in little things like rides on a big bus.
Happy new year to all of you that stop through this blog site. In this new year, look around you for the little things that can help you forget the sorrows, the stress, the anger, and everything that weighs us down on this journey and laugh more. See if you can enjoy the ride on the big bus even with your Rolls Royce parked in the garage.
Enjoy the journey!!!
What excites you?
Although it may appear a simple question but adults will find it difficult to immediately and jubilantly jump and give the answer? Life has choked out whatever it was and now we are not even sure so we look for it in all sorts of places… shops, malls, luxury goods, electronic gadgets, food etc and yet it eludes us so very much.
Recently, I read a number of unusual books ant they are the books I am likely to remember for a very long time, one of them is Life is a Verb by Patti Digh… please get it, read it and pass it on. It talks a lot about the simple things in life and the simple ways we can enjoy the journey and it may be the reason that I started noticing little things and understood for the first time in my life what it means to stop and smell the roses.
On a recent trip to the US, I took my two year old son Popo with me. We first stopped in London and because of I have always seen the London buses, it was part of the city. It did not stand out until my son almost jumped out of the stroller at the sight of his first bus. From then on, we could not take any step further, could not enter any shop or restaurant because we need to watch the buses. Unfortunately, we were on Oxford Street and the bus stream was endless. I was there jumping like a crazy woman to share in his excitement which could not be contained in anyway. Until I convinced him that the train which we need to take to head back to the airport in order to catch our connecting flight to the US is one big bus and so we got on it.
Getting to the US only heightened the new discovery of buses and the excitement continued with the metro buses. His face lights up, he screams “mama big bus” as each metro bus passed. I decided that we will go to as many places as we can via buses. He would not get down when we get to our bus stop. He will scream “no mama, popo not getting down”. Eventually, I will get him off carrying him with him kicking and screaming. We were a sight. Even though it was cold, he never minded as long as we are waiting for the big bus to arrive. If he sees a bus coming even when I say that is not our bus, it will not deter him from yelling “mama see popo bus”.
The mention or the appearance of a metro bus stops him from crying, gets him to behave and a trip on the bus is the highlight of his day each day and if we get off at the end of our trip, he was sad until you tell him that tomorrow is another day for adventure on the big bus.
Although my to do list was utterly changed on this trip on a daily basis, I decided to see the world through his eyes and find joy in little things like rides on a big bus.
Happy new year to all of you that stop through this blog site. In this new year, look around you for the little things that can help you forget the sorrows, the stress, the anger, and everything that weighs us down on this journey and laugh more. See if you can enjoy the ride on the big bus even with your Rolls Royce parked in the garage.
Enjoy the journey!!!
Searching for your purpose
Life is journey we are thrust upon at birth.
As we grow up we are guided, supported, we are trained, and we are educated in several ways and diverse fronts all to get us ready to embark on the journey for which we have already started.
As we journey, the search for who we are and the purpose for the journey faces us and tries to stop us or slow us down. When the purpose shadows comes at you along the journey, it stops you and you will never move until you have cleared it out. This is a point in everyone’s life where we ask questions and get hollow echo back at us and we keep asking, digging, searching until we find it or never find it.
The search can be torturous, and people destroy themselves in the search because it is fearful and the answers are not forth coming so we turn to the side for help and destruction comes and we pack along the way and never make it.
Some people search once and find the ace and journey to the end. Some people search several times as one find leads to a dead end and the search continues. Whether you are searching for the first time or you have to search several times, do not despair… you are about a purpose, you have a mission and in searching you will find thus.
As I searched some days and listen to people searching along the same journey, I wrote the piece below…
What am I about?
Some days I feel like an ant with dead antennae so I hit my head and it is a wall
I try the other direction and it is another wall
What am I about?
What should I be doing?
What am I wasting my time doing?
How should I go about it?
I do not believe that I am just a floater or meant to go through this path without an impact.
I feel like a failure but even that does not help
I fear… I worry… I am not even sure that if I see an opportunity, I‘d recognize it because it seems I have no clue what I am looking for
What am I about?
I ask again and again and I get no answer
But I hear a voice
A voice so clear and loud
You are about … about … about
Keep on
Wings 2011
As we grow up we are guided, supported, we are trained, and we are educated in several ways and diverse fronts all to get us ready to embark on the journey for which we have already started.
As we journey, the search for who we are and the purpose for the journey faces us and tries to stop us or slow us down. When the purpose shadows comes at you along the journey, it stops you and you will never move until you have cleared it out. This is a point in everyone’s life where we ask questions and get hollow echo back at us and we keep asking, digging, searching until we find it or never find it.
The search can be torturous, and people destroy themselves in the search because it is fearful and the answers are not forth coming so we turn to the side for help and destruction comes and we pack along the way and never make it.
Some people search once and find the ace and journey to the end. Some people search several times as one find leads to a dead end and the search continues. Whether you are searching for the first time or you have to search several times, do not despair… you are about a purpose, you have a mission and in searching you will find thus.
As I searched some days and listen to people searching along the same journey, I wrote the piece below…
What am I about?
Some days I feel like an ant with dead antennae so I hit my head and it is a wall
I try the other direction and it is another wall
What am I about?
What should I be doing?
What am I wasting my time doing?
How should I go about it?
I do not believe that I am just a floater or meant to go through this path without an impact.
I feel like a failure but even that does not help
I fear… I worry… I am not even sure that if I see an opportunity, I‘d recognize it because it seems I have no clue what I am looking for
What am I about?
I ask again and again and I get no answer
But I hear a voice
A voice so clear and loud
You are about … about … about
Keep on
Wings 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Political Correctness and the Disappearance of Truth
Sometimes I laugh out loud when people tell me that I am smart or that I am more than an average person intellectually because it takes me a while to understand things and sometimes truly I never quite understand some things and these are not usually complex concepts or theories for that matter… I mean not rocket science as they say.
One of the things that I do not understand is the term “politically correct”. I mean, someone says something and you hear things like “That may be the truth but it is not politically correct”. Thinking about this for a while now, I wondered if there is anyone out there who is struggling like me to understand how the truth can be clouded by being politically incorrect.
I heard myself laughing aloud as I was driving that it will be possible to have a conversation like this:
Person A : “Good afternoon”
Person B : “Why would you tell me good afternoon this time? It is my morning and I am offended. How can you say it is afternoon because that is how you interpret the time of the day?”
“I think it is politically incorrect to say good afternoon to me when you do not know what time I think it is”.
Believe me a conversation like the above will have some people on this planet arguing that because someone set the time that after 12noon, it is afternoon does not mean it is for everyone even if they are in the same time zone. You know such senseless issues in the name of being politically correct. Oh you may think a person is nice or wearing a nice dress, please do not comment because while it okay to give compliments, it is not politically correct to tell a lady that she looks nice…. hoohoohaa what is the world turning into??
No longer can we say black is black and white is white because it is politically incorrect to say someone is black or white or something is black or white . Pretty soon, we will stop talking to each other because the very next person is offended just seeing the other person.
If something is not correct, it is not correct. How can it not be correct morally and be correct politically or vice versa, how can it be politically correct and be wrong in every other way. I am totally lost on this one.
One of the things that I do not understand is the term “politically correct”. I mean, someone says something and you hear things like “That may be the truth but it is not politically correct”. Thinking about this for a while now, I wondered if there is anyone out there who is struggling like me to understand how the truth can be clouded by being politically incorrect.
I heard myself laughing aloud as I was driving that it will be possible to have a conversation like this:
Person A : “Good afternoon”
Person B : “Why would you tell me good afternoon this time? It is my morning and I am offended. How can you say it is afternoon because that is how you interpret the time of the day?”
“I think it is politically incorrect to say good afternoon to me when you do not know what time I think it is”.
Believe me a conversation like the above will have some people on this planet arguing that because someone set the time that after 12noon, it is afternoon does not mean it is for everyone even if they are in the same time zone. You know such senseless issues in the name of being politically correct. Oh you may think a person is nice or wearing a nice dress, please do not comment because while it okay to give compliments, it is not politically correct to tell a lady that she looks nice…. hoohoohaa what is the world turning into??
No longer can we say black is black and white is white because it is politically incorrect to say someone is black or white or something is black or white . Pretty soon, we will stop talking to each other because the very next person is offended just seeing the other person.
If something is not correct, it is not correct. How can it not be correct morally and be correct politically or vice versa, how can it be politically correct and be wrong in every other way. I am totally lost on this one.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Life is a Dance. Life is a Journey
Life is a dance. I dance. You dance and we all dance. Even with the best choreographer, we all dance differently as we hear the tune and as our bodies will let us move. Some with intensity, some with great agility and others just gracefully swinging from one direction to the other but dance we do.
In the same way, life is a journey and we are at different stages of our journey. Some just beginning, some very far gone and some at the middle, no matter where you are, we are all trotting along… and some have finished, reached the end and the destination and others have parked along the way.
Nothing can be truer as I look at the lives of my two boys now. One is getting ready to leave for high school and cannot wait to embrace this new stage of his life. Everything is about independence and the freedom of action that he believes high school will bring. No matter what I say about the boundaries and the unwritten rules of life, he still believes high school will take him away from the clutches of my discipline.
On the other hand, I look at my little toddler “Popo” who cannot leave me alone or take his hands off me. He holds my two legs so that I do not leave him and go out. He tugs at my clothes, pulls it and drags me around making sure we are linked and tied together somehow. He wakes up in the morning and pull me “pup up mama” no matter how much I tell him that I want a few more minutes of sleep, all I hear is “pup up mama”. There is no way he was leaving that bed and that room without me.
This is true of each of us every stage of our life and our journey. We need something different. Sometimes we want someone to hold us and never let us go and some point we want to be ‘set free’… (although we are free all the time). While one is ready to fly away to explore the world, one needs to hold me to help him explore his world, understand his world this time. For both there are lessons of life for us all.
In the same way, life is a journey and we are at different stages of our journey. Some just beginning, some very far gone and some at the middle, no matter where you are, we are all trotting along… and some have finished, reached the end and the destination and others have parked along the way.
Nothing can be truer as I look at the lives of my two boys now. One is getting ready to leave for high school and cannot wait to embrace this new stage of his life. Everything is about independence and the freedom of action that he believes high school will bring. No matter what I say about the boundaries and the unwritten rules of life, he still believes high school will take him away from the clutches of my discipline.
On the other hand, I look at my little toddler “Popo” who cannot leave me alone or take his hands off me. He holds my two legs so that I do not leave him and go out. He tugs at my clothes, pulls it and drags me around making sure we are linked and tied together somehow. He wakes up in the morning and pull me “pup up mama” no matter how much I tell him that I want a few more minutes of sleep, all I hear is “pup up mama”. There is no way he was leaving that bed and that room without me.
This is true of each of us every stage of our life and our journey. We need something different. Sometimes we want someone to hold us and never let us go and some point we want to be ‘set free’… (although we are free all the time). While one is ready to fly away to explore the world, one needs to hold me to help him explore his world, understand his world this time. For both there are lessons of life for us all.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The World is a Dance Floor
The world is a dance floor and we all dance differently even if the beat is one which it never is, we hear it differently.
This morning as I was sweating it away on the treadmill beside an older lady who was leisurely sweating it on the bike and dabbing her face at the show of any resemblance of sweat, a dashing young lady came in to say hello to the older lady. Did I say dashing? More like glamorous, elegant and all very well put together from her make-up to her bright scarlet red wrap around dress.
Every head (male and female) turned to towards the young lady and as she came around the older lady asked if her dress was a Von Frostein design and she said no but clearly basking in the attention and appreciation albeit with humility.
Just then we looked through the window as a reflection shone through the glass of another young lady whose glitter and style shone through the window in her gold and tube top walking towards her car with all pump and pageantry. The older lady shook her head and said but not maliciously, “that is not appropriate for this time” and then the well dressed lady with a big smile on her face “Oh that’s Jane. She always jams it all together… afternoon, evening even disco outfits”.
Even though that is very true, it reminded me of what I recently read that these differences and excesses are what makes the world what it is and makes the journey exciting.
From all indication, “Jane” was feeling very happy and beautiful in her disco outfit at 10.30 am and may be heading to the mall for all you care just like that.
While I do not diminish the appropriateness of styles and dressing but really life is a dance, the world a dance floor. We hear different tunes, we dance to whatever tune we hear and our steps are different but we are all dancing. Lets all just dance, dance and not worry about the dance steps of the other person
This morning as I was sweating it away on the treadmill beside an older lady who was leisurely sweating it on the bike and dabbing her face at the show of any resemblance of sweat, a dashing young lady came in to say hello to the older lady. Did I say dashing? More like glamorous, elegant and all very well put together from her make-up to her bright scarlet red wrap around dress.
Every head (male and female) turned to towards the young lady and as she came around the older lady asked if her dress was a Von Frostein design and she said no but clearly basking in the attention and appreciation albeit with humility.
Just then we looked through the window as a reflection shone through the glass of another young lady whose glitter and style shone through the window in her gold and tube top walking towards her car with all pump and pageantry. The older lady shook her head and said but not maliciously, “that is not appropriate for this time” and then the well dressed lady with a big smile on her face “Oh that’s Jane. She always jams it all together… afternoon, evening even disco outfits”.
Even though that is very true, it reminded me of what I recently read that these differences and excesses are what makes the world what it is and makes the journey exciting.
From all indication, “Jane” was feeling very happy and beautiful in her disco outfit at 10.30 am and may be heading to the mall for all you care just like that.
While I do not diminish the appropriateness of styles and dressing but really life is a dance, the world a dance floor. We hear different tunes, we dance to whatever tune we hear and our steps are different but we are all dancing. Lets all just dance, dance and not worry about the dance steps of the other person
Sunday, July 18, 2010
What are tears for?
I believe many people have either asked or contemplated this question. I do not know for sure why we have tears. I think I learnt in school that tears help clean our eyes… I am not sure if I was told that or I am making it up but I have that information in my head somewhere. True or false, I am not sure exactly why we have tears. If it is to clean our eyes, then why do we have to cry or laugh before we can clean our eyes?
Today, I attended the prize giving and school graduation ceremony in the school my kids go to… none of them was graduating but hey… they are moving from one class to the next. I always go for the graduation ceremony in this school because I like to see the young kids celebrate the completion of a phase in their lives and declare their readiness to go to the next one. It is always so touching.
So today I was there and I was crying all the way. First, we had little celebrations in each class, celebrating the different strengths of each child in every class. That was great. It was an opportunity for the teachers to ‘show off each child’ it was not about academics only… it was about everything and anything good in each child.
I do not want to mention that when the teacher talked about my older son I cried and wept and wept and it was all about how good he is and of course how they will miss him because he is not coming back next session to that school.
Then it was time for prize giving and graduation ceremony. When my son’s name was mentioned for a prize I teared up… I was very happy right? So I cried… interesting. Then came the time for the graduating students and their teachers and them I started crying again. I had to leave because I was making a mess of my well applied mascara…
I got home and I was still crying about everything… the prize, the speeches, the songs and then I asked myself what we were given tears for.
Honestly, I am not sure when my tear tap is supposed to be opened… I read books I weep, I see movies that I know are sheer acting, I cry. I get a good present I cry. My son does well in school and gets a prize I cry. I have a miscarriage I cry. I have a healthy baby I cry. I witness an accident I cry. I see the homeless I cry. Someone is in pain I cry. Someone gets a miracle I cry. I watch my children sleeping peacefully I cry. They are sick I cry. Did I mention that my son is leaving for school in a few months time and I cry just thinking about it?
Today, I attended the prize giving and school graduation ceremony in the school my kids go to… none of them was graduating but hey… they are moving from one class to the next. I always go for the graduation ceremony in this school because I like to see the young kids celebrate the completion of a phase in their lives and declare their readiness to go to the next one. It is always so touching.
So today I was there and I was crying all the way. First, we had little celebrations in each class, celebrating the different strengths of each child in every class. That was great. It was an opportunity for the teachers to ‘show off each child’ it was not about academics only… it was about everything and anything good in each child.
I do not want to mention that when the teacher talked about my older son I cried and wept and wept and it was all about how good he is and of course how they will miss him because he is not coming back next session to that school.
Then it was time for prize giving and graduation ceremony. When my son’s name was mentioned for a prize I teared up… I was very happy right? So I cried… interesting. Then came the time for the graduating students and their teachers and them I started crying again. I had to leave because I was making a mess of my well applied mascara…
I got home and I was still crying about everything… the prize, the speeches, the songs and then I asked myself what we were given tears for.
Honestly, I am not sure when my tear tap is supposed to be opened… I read books I weep, I see movies that I know are sheer acting, I cry. I get a good present I cry. My son does well in school and gets a prize I cry. I have a miscarriage I cry. I have a healthy baby I cry. I witness an accident I cry. I see the homeless I cry. Someone is in pain I cry. Someone gets a miracle I cry. I watch my children sleeping peacefully I cry. They are sick I cry. Did I mention that my son is leaving for school in a few months time and I cry just thinking about it?
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Strange Summer Dream
Last night, I had a very strange dream. I hardly dream (I mean dream while asleep… the one when awake… I dream endlessly), I only dream when I have malaria or when I am thoroughly drugged up in the hospital like after a surgery and I am on my way back to consciousness.
So I had this strange and weird dream… not sure how I got into the aircraft or where and when we boarded but we landed and we were on our way to some hotel (have forgotten the name now) in Dallas. Please how in the world would I be headed to Dallas? I had never thought of Dallas as a special place to go (and that is not to say Dallas is not a great Texas city… it really is). I have no friends or foes in Dallas that I think of. I have a long listing of places I want to visit in the world and so many cities in the US I want to go to but Dallas is not one of them (maybe because I have already been there about 12 or 15 some years ago).
Anyway, here in my dream, I am in Dallas with my boys in toe. We are to go to our hotel and who is there to take us in his bike? Some British soccer player looking happy and ready to chauffeur us on his big bike and I said “Oh you look familiar”. Familiar indeed!!! As if I knew him from adam and as if I see his like everyday in my life offering to drive me around town. So as I said “Oh you look familiar, my older boy said “mummmm” with much emphasis on the last m as if I am embarrassing him, I turned towards him and said “yes” (as in what is it now, can I not talk?) And he said “mum, this is Owen”. Then I said “E hen”! Indicating that now I recollect… I know the guy. So we all jumped on his bike and headed to the hotel.
Not sure what happened after that (must have sleepily woken up to feed the baby his milk) because the next time I knew what was happening, we had reached the hotel only the soccer player was not with us and right there at the reception, they asked us who we wanted to see (because maybe the likes of us did not stay in that hotel). Again, I would not remember his name so I said “that British soccer player” and the lady laughed and said “Owen” and again I nodded in affirmation as if “yea who else?”. She immediately pointed to the pool area where Mr Owens was basking in the Dallas summer sun. I looked and smiled…
I did not immediately head towards the “British soccer player” but decided to look around the reception which was very crowded with lots of people coming and going. As I looked, there was a cousin of mine who lives in the US so I walked up to her and she was very surprised to see me. She said she had no clue I was coming to the US and I said even me I had no clue I was coming too… how true!!!
When I woke up, I had a good hearty laugh. So this must be my own summer sizzle from own very bed in Lagos, Nigeria… with the British soccer player who I guess I should be grateful came to pick me up from the airport as he captained England to the woeful world cup outing. Since I am not in the hospital under heavy sedatives (thank God), I must be coming down with malaria (please God… no malaria a beg)… only now that I think of it, I wish and wonder why it was not rich and handsome David Beckham or even young and rich Cristian Ronaldo in his red Ferrari…
… guess that will be for the next summer dream… for now, Owen will do.
So I had this strange and weird dream… not sure how I got into the aircraft or where and when we boarded but we landed and we were on our way to some hotel (have forgotten the name now) in Dallas. Please how in the world would I be headed to Dallas? I had never thought of Dallas as a special place to go (and that is not to say Dallas is not a great Texas city… it really is). I have no friends or foes in Dallas that I think of. I have a long listing of places I want to visit in the world and so many cities in the US I want to go to but Dallas is not one of them (maybe because I have already been there about 12 or 15 some years ago).
Anyway, here in my dream, I am in Dallas with my boys in toe. We are to go to our hotel and who is there to take us in his bike? Some British soccer player looking happy and ready to chauffeur us on his big bike and I said “Oh you look familiar”. Familiar indeed!!! As if I knew him from adam and as if I see his like everyday in my life offering to drive me around town. So as I said “Oh you look familiar, my older boy said “mummmm” with much emphasis on the last m as if I am embarrassing him, I turned towards him and said “yes” (as in what is it now, can I not talk?) And he said “mum, this is Owen”. Then I said “E hen”! Indicating that now I recollect… I know the guy. So we all jumped on his bike and headed to the hotel.
Not sure what happened after that (must have sleepily woken up to feed the baby his milk) because the next time I knew what was happening, we had reached the hotel only the soccer player was not with us and right there at the reception, they asked us who we wanted to see (because maybe the likes of us did not stay in that hotel). Again, I would not remember his name so I said “that British soccer player” and the lady laughed and said “Owen” and again I nodded in affirmation as if “yea who else?”. She immediately pointed to the pool area where Mr Owens was basking in the Dallas summer sun. I looked and smiled…
I did not immediately head towards the “British soccer player” but decided to look around the reception which was very crowded with lots of people coming and going. As I looked, there was a cousin of mine who lives in the US so I walked up to her and she was very surprised to see me. She said she had no clue I was coming to the US and I said even me I had no clue I was coming too… how true!!!
When I woke up, I had a good hearty laugh. So this must be my own summer sizzle from own very bed in Lagos, Nigeria… with the British soccer player who I guess I should be grateful came to pick me up from the airport as he captained England to the woeful world cup outing. Since I am not in the hospital under heavy sedatives (thank God), I must be coming down with malaria (please God… no malaria a beg)… only now that I think of it, I wish and wonder why it was not rich and handsome David Beckham or even young and rich Cristian Ronaldo in his red Ferrari…
… guess that will be for the next summer dream… for now, Owen will do.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Gym locker room dynamics
For several years, I should say decades I have been going to the gym. It is a major part of my life and the one place that I have a lot of fun. When I am not spending time with my kids, the next best thing is the gym and a good book. Nothing beats a good run on the treadmill and although I hate the crunches that accompany these fun cadios and I get to do those last and count the minutes.
In the last 18 months, my routine changed as I took a career break to make a career change. I started going to the gym at a different time of the day after workers have gone to the office and kids have gone to school. I realized after a couple months that it is different. It is a different group of people with different mindsets and different approach to life. To start with, there is no frenzy in terms of rushing in and out because you have to get to the office the same minute you are stepping out of the shower.
Showering at the gym in my new schedule was not a regular routine. In fact for several months I did not know where the locker room and shower facilities were because I usually get there for the aerobics and step aerobics classes, visit my favourite machines and head home. Every once in awhile I shower at the gym especially if I have an errand to run along that end of the city and recently it has become a lot more regular. Initially, I could not understand the kind of discussions and dynamics that happen at the locker room as ladies and women shower and change not to mention the fights.
The first time I witnessed one of these discussions, it was about breast size and augmentation and the ladies that their husbands want them to get certain sizes and others to lift up the sagging ones. I silently listened without contributing because such discussions were alien to me. Then came the label comparisons. Now I have noticed that this is a regular topic and one that really irritates me. Not that I do not know that women are usually concerned with fashion and fashion accessories but I have never been part of a women community that this is the dominant topic and everyone is trying to find out who is wearing and who and what everyday.
Over these past months too, I have come to know that these regulars at this time are in three categories…the ladies that are married to expatriates of all sorts (bi-racial partners) form one group, the foreign ladies (expatriate ladies and wives) form a second major group and others which is where I will classify (professionals and self employed who dictate their working hours) and often wear the expression “how did I end up being in this place at this time?” These groups believe me see the world differently and also there are usually silent wars and very fierce competition among the first group of our gym community members
One thing is obvious they (the first group) compare relationship notes, luxury goods notes and related antics. Sometimes I ‘enjoy’ listening to the shallow discussions such as labels on the clothes and how much the bags cost because it certainly shows me that there other types of people on the face of the earth that are not worried about achieving purpose or ranting about values and principles… the deep things. All said, the locker room can be very entertaining and irritating at the same time and until my schedule changes, this is my new gym communities… some are from mars!!!
In the last 18 months, my routine changed as I took a career break to make a career change. I started going to the gym at a different time of the day after workers have gone to the office and kids have gone to school. I realized after a couple months that it is different. It is a different group of people with different mindsets and different approach to life. To start with, there is no frenzy in terms of rushing in and out because you have to get to the office the same minute you are stepping out of the shower.
Showering at the gym in my new schedule was not a regular routine. In fact for several months I did not know where the locker room and shower facilities were because I usually get there for the aerobics and step aerobics classes, visit my favourite machines and head home. Every once in awhile I shower at the gym especially if I have an errand to run along that end of the city and recently it has become a lot more regular. Initially, I could not understand the kind of discussions and dynamics that happen at the locker room as ladies and women shower and change not to mention the fights.
The first time I witnessed one of these discussions, it was about breast size and augmentation and the ladies that their husbands want them to get certain sizes and others to lift up the sagging ones. I silently listened without contributing because such discussions were alien to me. Then came the label comparisons. Now I have noticed that this is a regular topic and one that really irritates me. Not that I do not know that women are usually concerned with fashion and fashion accessories but I have never been part of a women community that this is the dominant topic and everyone is trying to find out who is wearing and who and what everyday.
Over these past months too, I have come to know that these regulars at this time are in three categories…the ladies that are married to expatriates of all sorts (bi-racial partners) form one group, the foreign ladies (expatriate ladies and wives) form a second major group and others which is where I will classify (professionals and self employed who dictate their working hours) and often wear the expression “how did I end up being in this place at this time?” These groups believe me see the world differently and also there are usually silent wars and very fierce competition among the first group of our gym community members
One thing is obvious they (the first group) compare relationship notes, luxury goods notes and related antics. Sometimes I ‘enjoy’ listening to the shallow discussions such as labels on the clothes and how much the bags cost because it certainly shows me that there other types of people on the face of the earth that are not worried about achieving purpose or ranting about values and principles… the deep things. All said, the locker room can be very entertaining and irritating at the same time and until my schedule changes, this is my new gym communities… some are from mars!!!
Saturday, June 05, 2010
In Death we Live
Yesterday I attended the funeral service of an older friend’s mother. She was over 80 years of age and was considered to have done well in that regard.
It was not the good things that were said about this woman that caught my interest as I have long concluded that once you are dead you are so loved and you are very good.
My friend is at least 60 years and the first of 7 0r 8 siblings. Her brother is over 50 years. When I went to see my friend after I heard that her mum passed, she was tearing up talking about her mum and imagining what her mum would be saying now. She said she will really miss her mum. I told her that I thought that it is easier to deal with this separation when we are older. She said even as old as she is, she never really thought her mum will die… ( a little strange). She wanted confirmation that she did enough to show her mum that she really loved her while she was alive. I told her that I am sure she did.
Yesterday she was to thank the people for attending the service and the officiating priests and she broke down again and could barely talk. I can understand my friend could be quite emotional so it was not her tears that shook me up, it was her brother openly weeping after church. I have never seen that in my adult life.
As I left the church, I could not even remember any of the lofty achievements of this mother of 7 and they were plenty but the picture of the depth of the loss portrayed in the faces of her two grown children especially told me a lot. I concluded that even if she did or did not achieve much in terms of accolades, she was a mother who loved her children and was devoted to them.
The whole day I thought about this and I know she was one great mother even in death. If you will not be forgotten by the people you love then you live even though you die. Truly in death we live.
It was not the good things that were said about this woman that caught my interest as I have long concluded that once you are dead you are so loved and you are very good.
My friend is at least 60 years and the first of 7 0r 8 siblings. Her brother is over 50 years. When I went to see my friend after I heard that her mum passed, she was tearing up talking about her mum and imagining what her mum would be saying now. She said she will really miss her mum. I told her that I thought that it is easier to deal with this separation when we are older. She said even as old as she is, she never really thought her mum will die… ( a little strange). She wanted confirmation that she did enough to show her mum that she really loved her while she was alive. I told her that I am sure she did.
Yesterday she was to thank the people for attending the service and the officiating priests and she broke down again and could barely talk. I can understand my friend could be quite emotional so it was not her tears that shook me up, it was her brother openly weeping after church. I have never seen that in my adult life.
As I left the church, I could not even remember any of the lofty achievements of this mother of 7 and they were plenty but the picture of the depth of the loss portrayed in the faces of her two grown children especially told me a lot. I concluded that even if she did or did not achieve much in terms of accolades, she was a mother who loved her children and was devoted to them.
The whole day I thought about this and I know she was one great mother even in death. If you will not be forgotten by the people you love then you live even though you die. Truly in death we live.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Avoid the Fake Life
At the gym today, I had a very interesting conversation with a ‘gym friend’ and it was about living a fake life or the fake lives that some women live. My gym friend was alarmed at what happened in the company of their friend just the day before. We did not discuss the friend but the friend’s habit was bothering her and she asked me if she was crazy to think that her friend is living a fake life.
She said her friend vowed to pay out her ‘credit bills ‘ equals ‘gbese’ in this part of the world incurred from purchase of jewelry. When they got to the dealer/seller of ravishing gold jewelry, her friend not only paid up what she was owing, she ended up incurring two times (2x) the original debt. By the time they left, the friend was in debt to the tune of $14,000 and she has only come in to pay off one under $10,000. She said it was appalling. As they left the place, it got her thinking about such vain hobby aka vanity. She wondered when her friend will wear all the jewelry that she acquires. Then she said something very interesting, she said she told her friend that men do not notice these jewelry.
At that point I butted in saying, “Oh no! No woman wears such jewelry for a man to see or notice but they were it for other women to notice and as far as they are concerned, it places them in a class. It is a status statement.
I do not begrudge anyone who has the money to deck themselves up in gold and diamonds but to live perpetually in debt is a like living in self made prison without knowing it. I can understand getting into debt for the right reasons including paying school fees or hospital bills but one hears all sorts or ridiculous things people do to belong. Belong to what? Summer is fast approaching and people will take loans to travel for summer because ‘everyone travels for summer’. Who is the everyone that travels? Travels to where? Where did this fake living come from? We are all of a sudden defined by the jewelry or the designer bag that we wear and carry.
There is nothing wrong with luxury goods and there are people that all they know is luxury goods. They have never carried or worn anything less even if their parents looted the national treasury to give them the fake life but that is all they know but to now follow them and live in debt so that you can attend the same party with them and look like them is a calamity.
I was going to say that people should know that they can put such resources into other causes but anyone who is this shallow to dwell and think only about what to deck this mortal body with cannot and will not be able to understand living for something that has more meaning.
So I said to my gym friend, we need to be thinking about what value to add. What contributions to make to mankind to leave this place better than we have met it. We immediately moved to other treadmill kind of gist… our health, what are eating and the result of her recent health assessment. It was a much more edifying conversation than the fake life of people.
She said her friend vowed to pay out her ‘credit bills ‘ equals ‘gbese’ in this part of the world incurred from purchase of jewelry. When they got to the dealer/seller of ravishing gold jewelry, her friend not only paid up what she was owing, she ended up incurring two times (2x) the original debt. By the time they left, the friend was in debt to the tune of $14,000 and she has only come in to pay off one under $10,000. She said it was appalling. As they left the place, it got her thinking about such vain hobby aka vanity. She wondered when her friend will wear all the jewelry that she acquires. Then she said something very interesting, she said she told her friend that men do not notice these jewelry.
At that point I butted in saying, “Oh no! No woman wears such jewelry for a man to see or notice but they were it for other women to notice and as far as they are concerned, it places them in a class. It is a status statement.
I do not begrudge anyone who has the money to deck themselves up in gold and diamonds but to live perpetually in debt is a like living in self made prison without knowing it. I can understand getting into debt for the right reasons including paying school fees or hospital bills but one hears all sorts or ridiculous things people do to belong. Belong to what? Summer is fast approaching and people will take loans to travel for summer because ‘everyone travels for summer’. Who is the everyone that travels? Travels to where? Where did this fake living come from? We are all of a sudden defined by the jewelry or the designer bag that we wear and carry.
There is nothing wrong with luxury goods and there are people that all they know is luxury goods. They have never carried or worn anything less even if their parents looted the national treasury to give them the fake life but that is all they know but to now follow them and live in debt so that you can attend the same party with them and look like them is a calamity.
I was going to say that people should know that they can put such resources into other causes but anyone who is this shallow to dwell and think only about what to deck this mortal body with cannot and will not be able to understand living for something that has more meaning.
So I said to my gym friend, we need to be thinking about what value to add. What contributions to make to mankind to leave this place better than we have met it. We immediately moved to other treadmill kind of gist… our health, what are eating and the result of her recent health assessment. It was a much more edifying conversation than the fake life of people.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Much ado about nothing... the story of the zazu dress
I hardly write about very personal things and events but this is too hilarious to pass. It was Thursday night about 11.30pm when husband handed me a package. I opened it, and saw a print fabric of very funny unusual color of lemon and purple. I am a black and white person so little colors blind me. I immediate asked what for and he said it is the uniform outfit (aso-ebi) for the reception he sent me the invitation sms earlier in the day. I said “Oh the one I replied saying that I did not know the family or the sender”. He proceeded to tell me the history and the connection with his family how they all grew up together. Compelling story! This reception is for the 40th day remembrance of their father’s death.
All said, I reminded him that it is Thursday night and that the reception is on Saturday afternoon barely 36 hours to the event. I asked how come we are just getting the fabric and how on earth are we going to get it ready and wear it to the event by Saturday? Husband reminded me that there is something called express service by tailor. I said ok. Come morning, I quickly called the only fashion designer/dress maker I know and she said it is doable and gave me one ridiculous price. In my mind, I said, no way!! But not wanting to make light of the importance of this event, I headed out.
Measurement taken, styled discussed and agreed, I left. Next day (am) which is the event day, dress maker called to say dress is ready and will be delivered within the hour. I thanked her profusely in addition to the exorbitant price I was going to pay. True to her word, the dress arrived, as I held it up, I knew there was problem. I quickly tried it on; it was at least two sizes bigger. The waistline was right on top of my bum (you can figure where the end of the dress will be and it is a floor length dress). My older son could not stop laughing. Too late, I have to wear it to the event so everyone had suggestions. At last we all agreed that I should use a big belt to hold the middle of the dress to my waistline (get the picture??). Tried out two belts and we settled for one. With the belt holding the middle of the dress, the two shoulders were drooping and neck changed from u to w. But somehow I can wear it so I called the dressmaker and told her that the dress is not mine but I will have to wear it to the event. I twisted, turned in front of the mirror over and over again to see if there is a way that I can accept it and not feel conscious of it, I found none. The only thing that came to my mind was that it looked like the zazu dress I read in a book a long time ago.
It was about mid-day by now and the hours sped by. I had to read the sms again and it said reception was starting at 2pm. Husband was hunched over laptop and making calls on and off. I was busy with my usual activities, school work with the children, lunch and stuff. I finally settled on my laptop to get some work done. About 3.40pm, husband announces that we should be leaving in another 30 minutes.
I quickly went to change and I even put on two eye shadow colors to compliment the colors of the dress… so was my enthusiasm to make this dress work. We headed out about 4.15pm. 15 to 20 minutes into the traffic which will take at least another 15 to 20 minutes to go through, my sister in-law calls to find out where we were. We told her we were on our way and she said not to bother because the party is almost over and will be very over by the time we get there.
I thought “how great!” Said nothing. Felt nothing. Picked up my pen and wrote this story… so much ado about nothing!!!
All said, I reminded him that it is Thursday night and that the reception is on Saturday afternoon barely 36 hours to the event. I asked how come we are just getting the fabric and how on earth are we going to get it ready and wear it to the event by Saturday? Husband reminded me that there is something called express service by tailor. I said ok. Come morning, I quickly called the only fashion designer/dress maker I know and she said it is doable and gave me one ridiculous price. In my mind, I said, no way!! But not wanting to make light of the importance of this event, I headed out.
Measurement taken, styled discussed and agreed, I left. Next day (am) which is the event day, dress maker called to say dress is ready and will be delivered within the hour. I thanked her profusely in addition to the exorbitant price I was going to pay. True to her word, the dress arrived, as I held it up, I knew there was problem. I quickly tried it on; it was at least two sizes bigger. The waistline was right on top of my bum (you can figure where the end of the dress will be and it is a floor length dress). My older son could not stop laughing. Too late, I have to wear it to the event so everyone had suggestions. At last we all agreed that I should use a big belt to hold the middle of the dress to my waistline (get the picture??). Tried out two belts and we settled for one. With the belt holding the middle of the dress, the two shoulders were drooping and neck changed from u to w. But somehow I can wear it so I called the dressmaker and told her that the dress is not mine but I will have to wear it to the event. I twisted, turned in front of the mirror over and over again to see if there is a way that I can accept it and not feel conscious of it, I found none. The only thing that came to my mind was that it looked like the zazu dress I read in a book a long time ago.
It was about mid-day by now and the hours sped by. I had to read the sms again and it said reception was starting at 2pm. Husband was hunched over laptop and making calls on and off. I was busy with my usual activities, school work with the children, lunch and stuff. I finally settled on my laptop to get some work done. About 3.40pm, husband announces that we should be leaving in another 30 minutes.
I quickly went to change and I even put on two eye shadow colors to compliment the colors of the dress… so was my enthusiasm to make this dress work. We headed out about 4.15pm. 15 to 20 minutes into the traffic which will take at least another 15 to 20 minutes to go through, my sister in-law calls to find out where we were. We told her we were on our way and she said not to bother because the party is almost over and will be very over by the time we get there.
I thought “how great!” Said nothing. Felt nothing. Picked up my pen and wrote this story… so much ado about nothing!!!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
The case for mentoring
There is quite a bit being said these days and a number of stuff flying around the whole place on mentoring. I was talking with a fellow parent in school a couple of days ago and she wanted to know what I do. I said that I am an HR professional but currently involved with career and life coaching and that I also train groups and organizations on leadership and managerial effectiveness as well as coaching and mentoring in workplace.
She said that a lady had approached her in church to ask her to mentor her as she is getting into business. She asked me if I have a coach. I said I needed a coach when I was making the transition from 8 -9 as internal consultant to independent service provider. Anyway, she has always worked for herself so this lady wanted her to coach her as she begins the arduous journey of self employment.
On my way home from this meeting, I was reviewing all the conversations and even the meeting we went for (something that I learnt to do over the years) Now I do not even think of it… once I leave a meeting or had a conversation, my mind automatically goes into a debrief mood. It occurred to me that people choose mentors without consideration. I do believe that a successful person will be flocked around by people wanting to know how he or she did it but mentoring goes beyond that.
What do you consider before you choose someone as your mentor? What do you want to get out of the relationship? When you go to someone and say, “please I want you to mentor me”, what exactly do you want this person to do for you? What about this person did you see, hear, read or encounter that convinces you that he or she could be your mentor.
There are structured organizational coaching and mentoring programs which is somewhat different from what I am writing about here. In this type of program, there is a schedule to follow, the results and activities are monitored and measured. It is part of a wider development program or succession planning.
When someone comes to you and asks if you can ‘mentor’ him or her, what exactly is that person asking of you? Is there a general understanding of what and how and result? Before you say yes to a mentoring request, please seek to understand what is being asked. Ask yourself whether you will be able to give what is being asked? First and most importantly, do you have anything to offer? Do you have the time to provide mentoring? Do you have the resources to guide and support the required development of the mentor seeker?
When we are approached by someone asking that we mentor them, it is beyond the ‘feel good’ feeling we get. It is tasking. It is time consuming. So before you rattle out the next yes to such request, ask yourself if you have anything within because you cannot give what you do not have.
She said that a lady had approached her in church to ask her to mentor her as she is getting into business. She asked me if I have a coach. I said I needed a coach when I was making the transition from 8 -9 as internal consultant to independent service provider. Anyway, she has always worked for herself so this lady wanted her to coach her as she begins the arduous journey of self employment.
On my way home from this meeting, I was reviewing all the conversations and even the meeting we went for (something that I learnt to do over the years) Now I do not even think of it… once I leave a meeting or had a conversation, my mind automatically goes into a debrief mood. It occurred to me that people choose mentors without consideration. I do believe that a successful person will be flocked around by people wanting to know how he or she did it but mentoring goes beyond that.
What do you consider before you choose someone as your mentor? What do you want to get out of the relationship? When you go to someone and say, “please I want you to mentor me”, what exactly do you want this person to do for you? What about this person did you see, hear, read or encounter that convinces you that he or she could be your mentor.
There are structured organizational coaching and mentoring programs which is somewhat different from what I am writing about here. In this type of program, there is a schedule to follow, the results and activities are monitored and measured. It is part of a wider development program or succession planning.
When someone comes to you and asks if you can ‘mentor’ him or her, what exactly is that person asking of you? Is there a general understanding of what and how and result? Before you say yes to a mentoring request, please seek to understand what is being asked. Ask yourself whether you will be able to give what is being asked? First and most importantly, do you have anything to offer? Do you have the time to provide mentoring? Do you have the resources to guide and support the required development of the mentor seeker?
When we are approached by someone asking that we mentor them, it is beyond the ‘feel good’ feeling we get. It is tasking. It is time consuming. So before you rattle out the next yes to such request, ask yourself if you have anything within because you cannot give what you do not have.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Dealing with the pain of job loss
No doubt there are a lot of angry and bitter people out there now following the recent waves of job losses blowing around the country, the globe and across sectors. Recent wave of job losses have been either from early retirement, retrenchment, severance, reduction … no matter what term is being used, losing a job hurts and it hurts real bad. Job loss has been credited as one of the highest ranking stress inducers of our time. Each story you hear seem to be worse than the previous one… all very pathetic.
Like every other loss, time is a good healer; the only problem with the loss of a job is that the victims have no time. Let me explain, if you have recently lost your job or in the process of losing it (because the exercise will continue until there is a major turnaround in the economy and there are no predictions that it will be soon), you have no time to mop and cry and feel sorry for yourself, you need to get up and get going. You need to ask yourself a number of self evaluator questions or seek the help of a life coach to help you through the process. However, no matter what you want to do, you have to first deal with the anger and resentment that you feel in the inside about losing your job.
Understanding why you were laid is primary to dealing with the anger and bitterness of severance. If you are not totally clear as to why your company laid you off or why you were asked to leave, then it will be a lot more difficult dealing with the anger. However, No matter how it was explained to you, the result is the same. Job loss can have a profound effect on your emotional well being. There is a typical cycle that most people experience. This cycle includes denial, anger, frustration, self pity and eventually adaptation. Because people are identified with what they do, a job loss looks like their identity have been taken away from them and self doubt is the first thing that sets in.
Let it sink in… accept it! Do not live in denial and do not go on with the blame game.
Talk about it… share the burden. Find someone you trust and if you have mentor, this is a good time to get together with the person. Get a life coach. Talk to someone who will listen.
Being laid off can be a trigger for something good to happen to you. It is important for you to see that it could be an opportunity for you to pursue your dreams that you have been putting on hold simply because you were comfortable with a monthly salary. This is the time to get back inside and use the strengths you have to do something.
Before you do anything, make sure you have resolved the anger within you about being laid off, forgiven anyone and everyone (if you think you have been victimized) or else it continue to hunt you and become a barrier for moving forward.
Like every other loss, time is a good healer; the only problem with the loss of a job is that the victims have no time. Let me explain, if you have recently lost your job or in the process of losing it (because the exercise will continue until there is a major turnaround in the economy and there are no predictions that it will be soon), you have no time to mop and cry and feel sorry for yourself, you need to get up and get going. You need to ask yourself a number of self evaluator questions or seek the help of a life coach to help you through the process. However, no matter what you want to do, you have to first deal with the anger and resentment that you feel in the inside about losing your job.
Understanding why you were laid is primary to dealing with the anger and bitterness of severance. If you are not totally clear as to why your company laid you off or why you were asked to leave, then it will be a lot more difficult dealing with the anger. However, No matter how it was explained to you, the result is the same. Job loss can have a profound effect on your emotional well being. There is a typical cycle that most people experience. This cycle includes denial, anger, frustration, self pity and eventually adaptation. Because people are identified with what they do, a job loss looks like their identity have been taken away from them and self doubt is the first thing that sets in.
Let it sink in… accept it! Do not live in denial and do not go on with the blame game.
Talk about it… share the burden. Find someone you trust and if you have mentor, this is a good time to get together with the person. Get a life coach. Talk to someone who will listen.
Being laid off can be a trigger for something good to happen to you. It is important for you to see that it could be an opportunity for you to pursue your dreams that you have been putting on hold simply because you were comfortable with a monthly salary. This is the time to get back inside and use the strengths you have to do something.
Before you do anything, make sure you have resolved the anger within you about being laid off, forgiven anyone and everyone (if you think you have been victimized) or else it continue to hunt you and become a barrier for moving forward.
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Showing a little kindness to strangers and to all
Most cultures have a history of showing kindness to foreigners and strangers. The African culture boasts of kindness to strangers and some nations such as Nigeria lists hospitality as one of its strengths and a major factor in tourism attraction. I guess that was before the Niger Delta militants started its kidnapping and abducting spree and also before Abdul Multallab decided to blow up a plane full of innocent strangers and for some inexplicable reason such evil has become the face of Nigeria. Whatever happened to our kindness and hospitality? Even within us as a nation, we are weary of showing kindness because of the horror stories and events. ..
The bible is full of admonitions and instructions about treating strangers and foreigners with kindness. It was with amazement that I read that God remanded the Israelites to be kind to foreigners and strangers because they were once strangers in the land of Egypt before He showed them mercy. He even instructed them not to pick up grains that fall down in the fields during harvest and to purposely leave some crops unharvested so that strangers and foreigners passing through can have something to eat.
Most of us travel to other countries on vacations, adventures, business, you name it and we never quite forget any genuine act of kindness that we are shown on our journeys whether it is a kind man or woman giving a helping hand with kids or luggage or helping someone navigate the streets of an unknown city.
I recently read of an American lady travelling alone through Jordan and Jerusalem who took ill and was gravely sick in the bus and a singular act of kindness from an old woman who disrupted her own destination to take the sick lady to a convent saved the tourist’s life.
The stories and the people who take advantage of peoples’ acts of kindness abound and these are the reason for the seemingly insensitivity of people these days towards the needy and strangers. People set out to target and exploit others who show kindness and compassion. I will never forget one mid-say coming back from a meeting, I saw a young woman in her late 20s or early 30s carrying a mid-sized plastic basin crying and wailing on the street. I wondered what could make such healthy woman and by all indication not crazy crying so openly. I asked the driver to stop and we had gone past a little bit, I insisted that he reversed; I got out of the car and asked the lady what the problem was. She cried even louder and told me how all the egg she was asked to go and deliver had all broken when she tripped and fell. I asked who she was delivering for and she said her aunt and how her aunt will definitely make a minced meat out of her and will not pay her for several months. I asked her how much the egg was and she said something like N7,000 and coincidentally I had some cash on me that day clearly for a payment because I never really carry lose cash as I operate tightly on budget but this day I had cash so I went back into the car, counted the money and gave this lady. I headed back to the office not even thinking about it again.
You can imagine my shock when the very next week and I mean the next week, I saw this same lady in another part of the city in the same act. I got out of the car and quietly got to her and said “how many eggs have you broken today” anger and disappointment obviously showing in my voice. There were a few people around and when she recognized me, she took off with such speed that the onlookers thought I was some kind of law enforcement agent. I stood there for what seemed like forever even though it was for a few brief minutes, shook my head and walked away.
Should we then stop showing compassion and kindness one may ask? No! Life’s journey is about giving and kindness we show to each other as we trod along.
The bible is full of admonitions and instructions about treating strangers and foreigners with kindness. It was with amazement that I read that God remanded the Israelites to be kind to foreigners and strangers because they were once strangers in the land of Egypt before He showed them mercy. He even instructed them not to pick up grains that fall down in the fields during harvest and to purposely leave some crops unharvested so that strangers and foreigners passing through can have something to eat.
Most of us travel to other countries on vacations, adventures, business, you name it and we never quite forget any genuine act of kindness that we are shown on our journeys whether it is a kind man or woman giving a helping hand with kids or luggage or helping someone navigate the streets of an unknown city.
I recently read of an American lady travelling alone through Jordan and Jerusalem who took ill and was gravely sick in the bus and a singular act of kindness from an old woman who disrupted her own destination to take the sick lady to a convent saved the tourist’s life.
The stories and the people who take advantage of peoples’ acts of kindness abound and these are the reason for the seemingly insensitivity of people these days towards the needy and strangers. People set out to target and exploit others who show kindness and compassion. I will never forget one mid-say coming back from a meeting, I saw a young woman in her late 20s or early 30s carrying a mid-sized plastic basin crying and wailing on the street. I wondered what could make such healthy woman and by all indication not crazy crying so openly. I asked the driver to stop and we had gone past a little bit, I insisted that he reversed; I got out of the car and asked the lady what the problem was. She cried even louder and told me how all the egg she was asked to go and deliver had all broken when she tripped and fell. I asked who she was delivering for and she said her aunt and how her aunt will definitely make a minced meat out of her and will not pay her for several months. I asked her how much the egg was and she said something like N7,000 and coincidentally I had some cash on me that day clearly for a payment because I never really carry lose cash as I operate tightly on budget but this day I had cash so I went back into the car, counted the money and gave this lady. I headed back to the office not even thinking about it again.
You can imagine my shock when the very next week and I mean the next week, I saw this same lady in another part of the city in the same act. I got out of the car and quietly got to her and said “how many eggs have you broken today” anger and disappointment obviously showing in my voice. There were a few people around and when she recognized me, she took off with such speed that the onlookers thought I was some kind of law enforcement agent. I stood there for what seemed like forever even though it was for a few brief minutes, shook my head and walked away.
Should we then stop showing compassion and kindness one may ask? No! Life’s journey is about giving and kindness we show to each other as we trod along.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
What's looks got to do with it?
I never thought that I will be writing something like this and actually seriously making a point that looks has everything to do with it.
We were told growing up that brain power is really the key to doors opening re\; getting employed. We were told that employers and interviewers were always looking for smart intelligent people and we believed it. The only thing else was to dress properly for interviews, do your homework as in find out about the company bla bla. I guess those work still but I think everyone does that anyway so now what else will separate you from the lot…
Background… the corporate world is changed a whole lot in the last couple of years say the last 5 to 10 years and rapidly changing too. The management and executives of companies are drastically and dramatically younger and have the rules sometimes upside down. Right or wrong, (that is a debate I will not get into) the factors of consideration are expanded to include unwritten ones… and the ones that no one will tell you.
Remember what you were told about impression? Exactly, exhume confidence, poise and “I am it” look… so now we get to looks
Mnnh! Mnhh! , let me think…. Looks? People will argue this until thy kingdom come (is it really God’s kingdom we are referring to here… I am not sure) that it makes little or difference but I can confidently say that it makes a lot of difference. Oh boy! It sure makes a difference. Looks? You ask again… yes I say emphatically. What looks… enhanced natural looks on a very thin body cladded in tight designer outfit . Get the picture? Once they step in some interviewers forget the prepared questions and only ask “When can you start?”
I was on a recruitment fair once and believe me a lady walked in and it was like a lightning struck instantly and I was the only female in a panel of 5. My interviewing colleagues all instantly developed lumps in their throat and you should have seen the sheepish smile on their faces…
I remember thinking, not all candidates are going to be miss something before coming for an interview… but I truly believe that if you are serious about getting a job, in addition to your “second to none” resume, if you are overweight and shabbily dressed with dreadful hair… not a lot of people will be patient enough to find out what you have upstairs except you are coming on a strong referral.
One more point, the parameters of beauty have also been adjusted so broadly speaking everyone is beautiful or can become beautiful if the right clothes are worn, the right makeup is applied and the accessories are attached … so as you can see, everyone still stands a chance of being employed only brain power now need some serious support.
We were told growing up that brain power is really the key to doors opening re\; getting employed. We were told that employers and interviewers were always looking for smart intelligent people and we believed it. The only thing else was to dress properly for interviews, do your homework as in find out about the company bla bla. I guess those work still but I think everyone does that anyway so now what else will separate you from the lot…
Background… the corporate world is changed a whole lot in the last couple of years say the last 5 to 10 years and rapidly changing too. The management and executives of companies are drastically and dramatically younger and have the rules sometimes upside down. Right or wrong, (that is a debate I will not get into) the factors of consideration are expanded to include unwritten ones… and the ones that no one will tell you.
Remember what you were told about impression? Exactly, exhume confidence, poise and “I am it” look… so now we get to looks
Mnnh! Mnhh! , let me think…. Looks? People will argue this until thy kingdom come (is it really God’s kingdom we are referring to here… I am not sure) that it makes little or difference but I can confidently say that it makes a lot of difference. Oh boy! It sure makes a difference. Looks? You ask again… yes I say emphatically. What looks… enhanced natural looks on a very thin body cladded in tight designer outfit . Get the picture? Once they step in some interviewers forget the prepared questions and only ask “When can you start?”
I was on a recruitment fair once and believe me a lady walked in and it was like a lightning struck instantly and I was the only female in a panel of 5. My interviewing colleagues all instantly developed lumps in their throat and you should have seen the sheepish smile on their faces…
I remember thinking, not all candidates are going to be miss something before coming for an interview… but I truly believe that if you are serious about getting a job, in addition to your “second to none” resume, if you are overweight and shabbily dressed with dreadful hair… not a lot of people will be patient enough to find out what you have upstairs except you are coming on a strong referral.
One more point, the parameters of beauty have also been adjusted so broadly speaking everyone is beautiful or can become beautiful if the right clothes are worn, the right makeup is applied and the accessories are attached … so as you can see, everyone still stands a chance of being employed only brain power now need some serious support.
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