Musing No. 7

He loved her in a distant kind of way, the same way the sun heats the Earth.

If she were to disappear completely, he knew through pure logic that it would have no great, disastrous effect on him.

He would not cease to be; he would not stop breathing; his heart would not stop beating; the world would not stop spinning.

The sun would keep shining, radiating heat, if the Earth were not there.

On a certain, purely physical level, her absence would have absolutely zero effect on his person.

And yet...

He loved her in an abstract kind of way, the way a bee loves honey.

He wasn't sure why he wanted to love her, but he wanted to love her just the same. Maybe somebody told him once that he should be in love with somebody, so he felt a need to pick somebody and it just so happened to be her.

Maybe. Being in love was nice, sure, but he didn't need to be.

And yet...

He loved her in a removed kind of way, the way a butterfly's wings can start a tsunami halfway around the world.

He knew that it had an effect on her, but he wasn't sure how great.

On a certain level he was aware that if he were to stop, if he were to disappear, it would have a drastic effect.

For him it would be one less flap of his wings, in a manner of speaking, if such a thing were possible without him falling from the sky.

And yet...

He loved her in a subtle kind of way.

It wasn't the kind of love you see in movies, with swelling music and giant gestures and running through the streets to catch a departing train.

It wasn't the kind of love that Byron or Shakespeare wrote about, with flowery language and hyperbole and iambic pentameter.

It was still and deep, like water that you might mistake for shallow if you just watched the surface. It was entirely his, not dependent on her own feelings for him, and it would still be there whether she, or him, or everyone else on the world disappeared.

It was a subtle kind of love, but it was true.

And she loved him just the same.

- Jake Christie

Musing No. 6

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a book on how to let go… She didn’t search the scriptures. She just let go.

She let go of all of the memories that held her back. She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn't promise to let go. She didn't journal about it. She didn't write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn't check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn't analyze whether she should let go. She didn't call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn't do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn't call the prayer line. She didn't utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing.

Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.

There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad.

It was what it was, and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.

- Earnest Holmes

It's time. Breathe…and let go.

Musing No. 5

I've carried some child-like ideals into my adult life and for the most part they have served to keep me optimistic and a touch unencumbered. With the passage of time, some of these ideals and notions have proved true while others have inevitably withered away under the harsh sobriety of growth and evolution. Recently, one of my more cherished ideals was placed in the spotlight.

I'm not sure whether its because I've always loved Christmas or whether the consistent messages floating around were to blame, but I always believed that being in a relationship would be like getting a really large stack of presents at Christmas! The day would come round and I’d get this magnificent heap of beautifully wrapped gifts and as I opened each exquisitely wrapped box, the presents inside would get better and better. By the time I would be done opening them all, I would sit back, utterly happy and content with so much to keep me amused for days on end: and then my birthday would roll round and I'd get more boxes of gifts...a never ending cycle of joy and delight perfectly presented to me.

So now I had the relationship, bring on the joy and bliss please! I want my box of presents!

Well, it turns out that a relationship is indeed like a box. 

The only difference between this box and my fanciful imaginings is that when you unwrap this one...you find nothing inside!

Terribly disappointing, isn't it? But let me finish. 

I’m not saying that a relationship is an empty shell, or a misrepresented gift. What I’m saying is that when you "open up" a relationship it's not full of companionship, friendship, love, joy or intimacy or any of those other things we see in other people’s relationships and admire for ourselves. Far from it!

What you start off with is an empty box (it may look pretty on the outside but inside it's bare) and you have to put in things first before you can start taking stuff out. 

There is no companionship, romance, intimacy, love or joy in a relationship; it’s in people! The people who are in the relationship. And its these people must put all these good "presents" into the relationship box.

It would be so much easier if relationships came packed and fully loaded with all the things you would both ever need but we all know better than to believe that it will. 

And with that realization another childhood fancy passes and I now realize that it's better to just bite the bullet. If you don't and get into it expecting a perfect-relationship-in-a-box and then all you see is this empty space, it can be downright shocking!

And what's more, I do know for sure that:

1. If you want a quality gift out of this box, you are going to have to cough up some quality goods to put in it: don’t expect to put a two-cent present in and pull out a priceless gem a.k.a don’t expect to give your significant other the bare minimum and then when you need something out of the relationship to get the very best. 

2. And there’s simple math involved as well! If you take out more than you put in, you will have nothing left but a sore heart and a bear hand. Don’t be just the taker, you have to be willing to be a giver too.

The Beatles are not my thing but I believe they really were onto something when they said, “And in the end, the love you get is equal to the love you make”...

If you do not take the time or make the effort to put the ingredients of a good relationship into the box, please don’t be surprised when you get a raggedy, knock-off version out of the box.

3. Lastly, I've come to believe that the principle applies to all our interpersonal relationships...

Ultimately, how happy you both are will depend on whether you see the empty box as potential to create the best possible relationship-box or whether you keep on thinking you were short changed and someone other than yourself owes you that gift.

Musing No. 4

The cape just looks good

It’s been a difficult day. A difficult week, possibly a month…okay, let’s just say it’s been a difficult year.

Trying to escape the little slice of hell that my day to day has been resembling lately, I decided to immerse myself in some Michael Jackson. Weird for me on all counts because I’m informed from credible sources that I’m not the biggest fan. Nonetheless, I put his discography on my music player, plugged in the earpieces and cranked up the volume.

But my escape was only fleeting: a few minutes into the stirring beats and these haunting lyrics were thrown at me like a splash of cold water or a slap across my face. And they've been playing in a loop in my head ever since…

“But they told me a man should be faithful…

And walk when not able…And fight til the end…

But I’m only human…”

I’m not one to look for deep meaning where there is none. I don’t read horoscopes (unless it’s on my birthday) I don’t interpret dreams (unless they have a matrix feel to it) and I do not look for profound messages in music. But this was different

For the longest time I've been overwhelmed with feelings of disappointment and discouraged because I'm not performing as I expect myself to be. I got new assignments and responsibilities conferred on me, which were greatly welcomed because this additional role means growth and vitality.

And if you happen to know me, you’ll know that above all else I like to be known for a job not just well done but perfectly executed. I do not drop the ball. I do not like mistakes in others (and yes, I’m working on changing that) but above all else, I do not like mistakes from myself!

But my waking hours have been a thing of nightmares. My superwoman veneer is slipping. My once organized system is in shambles in my office; a once treasured to-do list lies forgotten and dog-eared under a stack of an ever-growing heap of reports in my in-tray: my trusted organizer long abandoned and misplaced; my desk and tote diaries last used a month ago.

I’m an utter mess. What’s happened to me?!
Like I said - a difficult year

I wonder, have you ever experienced a similar sensation?

As I nervously bite my lip, I suspect this is what drowning must feel like. Being acutely aware that you should stop gulping in water but being unable to stop it. And then the sickening feeling as the very life drains out of your body. Dry drowning – that’s what this is!

So while I was trying to escape into a more melodious and harmonic place, those MJ lyrics brought me hurtling back to the ground and with a resounding crash and no small mess on my heap of papers, I landed back and I was left with nothing but this naked cold truth.

I’m only human.

We've been bombarded with ideas from our mentors, peers, internet and magazine articles that we have to do more, do it better and do it efficiently. Amazon is choke-full of books on how to be a success at work, a regular superwoman, how to be so organized that you have a 4 Hour Work Week (I still do not understand how that is possible!). All these ideas on how to increase your efficiency and output until it seems you must be a colossal disappointment if you cannot do it all.

We are no longer just in competition with others (ref. musing no. 2), we are in competition with ourselves!

And that is the worst kind of completion if left unchecked; because in that arena, failure is not even a notion to be floated let alone an option to be entertained. Admitting that you may not be able to do it all is a sure sign of weakness. You cannot fail. You must keep at it even when you are drowning. And don’t let it show (walk when you are not able) and most importantly YOU MUST FIGHT TO THE END! A noble idea in some pursuits but suicidal in most.

You are not human anymore, you are far better than that. You are a product of the 21st century and here you are always up to the task. If not, you will have to fake perfection until you attain it.

But the faking can only last so long; you can pretend that you have all of it under control, that you can do it all by yourself until it all comes crashing down, you have a meltdown or burnout or until a Michael Jackson song reminds you that you are no superwoman.

Then you realize that it’s okay to admit that maybe you can’t do it all right now.

That maybe you should be cut some slack, that maybe someone else can take care of some of the things.

And that it’s okay if you have to say, “No, I really can’t finish that report you want by Friday!!!!!!”

Are you walking when not able?

Musing No. 3

We are all faced with it every day...this new insidious thing that started out as something to be celebrated and cherished but along the way has morphed into a monster who's name is CHOICE!

I've been sitting at my desk, head crammed to capacity trying to decide out of all the proposals I have received so far for provision of additional insurance cover, which one to choose. And it's a problem every person of every age faces daily.

From the 6-year-old at the ice cream counter who has to choose from chocolate-chip, chocolate-ripple, chocolate-fudge or chocolate chunks (and he hasn't even reached the selection of toppings)! To the teen girl who's shopping for her prom and has to figure what trend to opt for - will it be the mini, the A-line, the asymmetric, the calf-length or the floor length dress? To the mother who has to figure out who among all the pediatrician she has received recommendations to take her newborn. To the director of operations on which pension scheme best suits the size of the company and the needs of the staff, to the CEO on which mergers to consider and which acquisitions to side step! I could go on and on...because I have so many example to choose from...(pun intended).

So how did something that started out as the ideal, something that at its most basic can be viewed as a basic human right - the right to choice - turn into something that can be truly paralyzing? Why has our society evolved to a point that there needs to be 30 brands of bottled water to choose from?

For me, choice has become a monster because of this simple fact. You cannot, no matter how much thought you put into it, escape the fear that whatever you choose, the other option would have been better. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? That nagging feeling, that incessant suspicion that maybe you could have chosen a little better.

And the real rub of the whole deal? The more time it takes for you to make a choice, the more frustrated it makes you feel and born out of that frustration is the likelihood that you'll make the wrong decision! One of the greater paradox of our time I'd say.

And if you are the perpetrator of this crime, the person plaguing us with these ridiculous choices, it's amazing to realize that people are less likely to buy something if you have so many different variations of it! The fewer the assortment the more likely someone will see something they like and buy it without further thought! (I suspect that's the reason some flavors of Fanta are just a memory now). I'm not joking- do the research!

So here's the musing, don't get so caught up in trying to get as many (if not all) possible options available under the sun. That freedom and sense of empowerment you think you'll be getting, it may just be taken away from you with the amount of energy it'll take you to decide!

What's your take?

Musing No. 2

"Will you make it?"

Forget about Generation X, Y or Z, we are a fully fledged Generation “A” - for Anxious!

Let me explain …

When I first heard of the quarter-life crisis I think I did a pretty decent impression of a twelve-year-old with some fancy eye rolling and an “Oh, please!”.

Quarter-life crisis?! Surely the need to classify everything and give a medical term to every single sensation had reached a new peak. A midlife crisis I could wrap my head around but this new phenomenon, well it just seemed like plain old hogwash.

But just like you cannot unring a bell, I couldn't forget or shake this new unsettling idea. And slowly I started to see it everywhere. Worse still, I noticed that I was displaying symptoms of it too. People in their twenties, spurred on by the rising generation of successful “under 30s”, had an unprecedented need to make it, and to make it now!

You need to have a dazzling career that is taking you places by the time you are 26 if not, you best be nurturing some innovative and lucrative entrepreneurial ideas that will make you the next big thing. And heavens forbid if you aren't working on finishing up your academic credentials by now. Did I mention that you have to be absolutely in the know with everything of importance that is happening this side of the sun (the other side too as a matter of fact) and be in some remarkable way be contributing to the betterment of mankind in general. Please also don’t forget to find the super successful partner to have the recommended number of equally brilliant kids by the time you are thirty ladies! Why? Because everyone else is doing it. It’s Greatness or Bust! Go big or go home.

Feel free to roll your eyes at that particular line of logic, I did too.

Even with that said, my brain just cringed a little as I listed all the above because it was mentally tallying my achievements to date (all strongholds accounted for) and ranking me somewhere on this new scale of achievement.

How much further do I need to go before I hit the big 3-0 and have to justify not having achieved my lifetime goals? I need to have that exciting job, a more than decent income, a cozy home and car and a fulfilling relationship.

But what happens when I don't have it all figured out. What happens when we place all this pressure on ourselves?

Really, I’m actually asking? I want to know what happens to our generation that is so anxious to make it. What happens when we don’t have everything figured out by the time we are 27? Are we failing?

Musing No. 1

"carry our brollies..."

I've never been spoken to like that. I have never been told what I have or have not done in such a way that I could practically hear the school bell ring and see myself racing up the stairs so I wouldn't be in trouble.

I’m shocked, slightly nauseated and frankly scared.

Why scared? Well, scared because I wonder if what he wrote is actually true, scared that I have ended up looking like a fool which I do truly fear and scared that I’ll end up messing up the best thing that may have ever happened to me.

It’s strange; we all want this epic kind of love, the heart racing, soul shaking kind of love that we have never experienced before. But we never think to try and prepare ourselves, to do the research I suppose so that we actually know when we find it.

Then when we have something that’s new, that may or may not be it, we aren't sure what to do because it’s so unfamiliar. Plus, no one ever told us whether it would be happiness and bliss from the start or whether we should brace ourselves and carry our brollies ‘cause the shit would hit the fan more than once!

So you wind up in the unfamiliar and because you don’t know whether this is your one and only shot at forever or whether it’s just a new strain of frog that the universe in its sense of humor has sent your way, you tether on the edge, not sure whether to just jump right in and weather the ups and downs or whether to just pack up and leave and keep waiting for that prince to finally show up.

So as I stare at my screen, dumbstruck at the nerve the man had to send me such a scathing email, I don’t know what to do.

Do I pack up my heart and exit the emotional train at the next stop or do I straighten my spine, crack a few knuckles and get ready to wade in further into this mucking thing that may be true love?