The Birth of An Idea

I have decided to experiment with professional writing in LinkedIn.

This was an idea that popped in my head while riding in the Alberta Prairies and chatting with my sis.  She said how in North America one was not supposed to enjoy her life but to work and work seriously so. That one had to take advantage of her weekends to enjoy life. That such hard schedule has been her motivation to start her own business and retire soon.

I can appreciate the sentiment. However, I'm not sure if managing your own business would allow one to have more leisure time at hand. To the contrary perhaps, it would take up more time and energy. However, the fruit of labor is more readily available perhaps.

I think my dream job is to teach at a professional level. And to teach at that level one needs to be a professional. I know I don't hold a PhD and I'm not planning on earning one. Therefore, I think one path forward would be to earn professional recognition through expertise and/or publications.

A few days ago I received an email from LinedIn that invited me to publish there. I think I might have be chosen to received this email, among millions perhaps, based on the population of my network, the progression in my career, and the frequency and quantity of my profile visits. At that moment I was not sure if I could use this opportunity. However, in this ride I thought this might be exactly the channel for my professional publications.  I think I can start with my lessons learned and best advice I've received in my life so far. The ideas won't be original at first. However, gradually I might be able to generate novel ideas, God willing.  I thought I can sketch simple drawings for each idea too. I think I need to publish once a week at least and in a regular basis. Perhpas on Mondays. And take advantage of the whole week to cook ideas, draft them, edit them, sketch drawings.  I hope I can do it, enshala.

So here is to a new dream which was born in the prairies of Alberta.

Edmonton, August 2014

Opening eyes to a new scenery from the bedroom windows, watching unfamiar pattern of morning lights, hiking in the neighboring trails, sitting in a local cafe drinking local roasts, walking to a new bookstore browsing local camping books, meeting new people.  These are a few of my favorite things about traveling;  anything to simply just be.

Life happens. Days come. Days go. Work. Bills. Obligations.

Travels, however, don't simply happen usually. They are planned for, saved for, waited for.

The unique schedule on each day makes each day exciting and lived.  There are more occasions to just sit and be together.  That makes the daily trouble seem so easy and remote. Goals so achievable. Dreams believed to come true.

Here is to a beautiful cloudy morning in Edmonton!

Losing My English

I feel I am losing my English.  I'm trying to hold on to it. I listen to National Public Radio most mornings as I drive to work in the darkness between the night and day. I read books in English. I listen to TED talks. I write emails in English and I talk to my English speaking friends daily. Yet, I feel I'm losing my English. How do I know that? Because in a conversation yesterday I pronounced a word in a wrong way, I knew I was pronouncing it wrong,  yet I did it! I'm not talking about my accent. That's there. Has always been and will always be; and frankly, I like it as dear as my identity.  I don't mind my accent. I'm talking about a pronunciation.
I am trying to get to root of the matter:  I spend more than half of my waking hours at work. I work in a team of three right now and there are not many occasions to talk. Most of my extended management team are not English speakers. I have hundreds of correspondences with friends and family on a daily bases, most if not all not in English.  And here I am.  Not pronouncing a word correctly, and knowingly so!
I couldn't pronounce the word correctly yesterday. I think I'm losing my English.  I need a new strategy!

Lost in the News

The poet is dead... God bless her soul!

The comedian ended his life... Rest in peace!

The truce is over. A truce is a promise. A promise is to be kept. This irony!

The so called "Islamic" killers are fighting Islam, religion, humanity.

The police who is supposed to protect citizens is clashing with them in the amours of an army, protecting itself.

The virus is threatening the world.

The schools have commenced. Kids with new backpacks. Kids with new hopes. Kids with no money for the "free" lunch.

Religious leaders leading agains humanity at one end of the world.

Religious leaders uniting in harmony, acceptance, divine spirit, in another end of the world.

And God said I would never leave the earth empty of those who truly hear me. I certainly hope so!

Physical Distances

It is well past 3 AM and she cannot sleep. Her brain is full of thoughts, memories, dreams, desires, fantasies.  He is laying by her side, breathing deeply, far away in his dreams. She roles to her side and extends her hand to reach him, examining the warm flesh under her touch. The back of his shoulders, his upper back, manly muscles she adores, his side so firm yet soft. She bends over and buries her nose in his curly hair. Ah! The love she feels for him.

Where is he now? What is he doing? What is he seeing? What is he experiencing?

So far way physically, yet always near in her thoughts.

The Story of Tea

For the whole 45 minutes I was wondering whether in their narrating the story of tea they would mention Iran, where, in my observations, has one of the most unique relationships with tea. Yes, it is indeed a relationship, where brewing tea starts early in the morning and goes on all day long and well in to the evening.

In this Food Planet documentary about tea the narration starts from England in search of the origin of this British tradition of high tea and afternoon tea. The investigators take us to China as the origin of it all. Then to South Asia, India, Bangeladesh, Thailand, and finally Middle East. I was pleased to see the British narrator finding her way to a Persian cafe and asking the owner, Reza, to explain the Persian tradition of tea brewing and tea serving. Reza does a nice job in describing the Samovar of which he had a charcoal type; I had seen the type in my late grandmother and oldest uncle's houses albeit not in use. He showed how to drink the tea while a sugare cube is melting in your mouth. He said anyone who enters any Persian house will be greeted with a cup of tea. Indeed a tradition, of course, the Persian way.

http://youtu.be/nI7Nw5dR_n4