Old Year

Stay, old year, stay. I just feel not ready for the new year. Tomorrow will come and nothing expected to be different. There used to be a new sort of excitement in the new year. There used to be hope, newness. There used to be new adventures awaiting.

I must remain grateful. 

Dream Softly

The sun is setting on the farms. The ocean still blue visible at far distance.  She closes her eyes to dream. There he is. 

He smiles brighter than the setting rays of sun. He gives her a gentle hug.  The smell of his clone hits her suddenly, revitalizing fading memories.

The restaurant light is dim. Blues playing in the background.  She feels hungry but afraid of eating lest time spent eating takes away the counted moments.

He orders two Zinfandels, then turns to her with a dashing smile. She smiles back. Happy.

They walk past a creamer but then return to share a cup of ice cream. His is Vanilla Bean.

He lifts up her hat. His face so close it stops her breathe for a moment. He leans down and his lips touch hers. She shivers ever so slightly. She moans softly. His palm on her back pushes her to his chest. Her every cell awakened with lust. Her breathe deepened.  His lips taste like  wine and clone.

He bursts in a manly laughter. Overjoyed with her spicy remarks.  She smiles.

Tasting her tears on her lips.

Readers And Writers

The writer writes to be read. The reader is the muse. The writer is in love with the reader. With no reader there's hardly any muse, any motivation.  The writer and the reader are to be. 

Blue

As the sun is shining

And the snow is melting

I think about the ocean

Vast

Blue

Endless

Let's build a boat

And sail away

Decisions and Faiths

She pushes the half closed door and walks into the house. It is dark and cold inside. She puts on the fire and turns on the lights. It's utterly quiet and still. Suddenly the kids run in and a loud cacophony of sound and noises trail behind them. Yet the house is still utterly quiet and still. Then the man walks in.  Silence.

The house is still quiet and still.

Merry Christmas

May the beauty in Christ and Mary and all the beautiful souls of the world light our path and guide us to peace and love!

Travel Notes

Took it lazy this afternoon. Watched some movie while peeking through the window at falling snow. How grateful I feel for this snow! Thank you Mother Nature!

Headed out just as the sun was setting to lounge in the lobby and having pop corns during the happy hour after which we headed out for good. Promenade in the snow for 1.5 hours. It was freezing but I felt happy. It was beautiful! Everything. Sky. Earth. People. Lights. Colors. We ended up at our favorite pizzeria after making a snowman and warming up in front of the fire pits at the sidewalk.

I wish I could go to a church tonight. Sit at the back and watch a traditional mass ceremony. I feel like praying.

...

Amen!

Should I Say or Should I Not

Decided to dare and call a hair salon in Tahoe where we are staying right now and request for an appointment for a new hair color style. They said not possible but then called again and here I am. They are very kind, offered me tea as I stepped in covered in snow.  Now here I sit with my hair smeared in die.

The hairstylist, Kelly, and I were chit chatting earlier when she noted that her kids' father was from Mexico and that she chose a language immersion school for her kids rather than the alternatives with math focus or art focus. She was to make sure her kids remembered where they were from. She noted "culture" was what was important to be taught.  She followed by boasting that her second grader was fluent in Spanish now. "How lovely" I exclaimed. I wanted to say my kids were bi lingual too and immersed in two cultures but I bit my tongue. I felt unprepared for any remark that would come after. But she is kind. And she may be pleased to meet an Iranian-Canadian.  Should I tell her or should I not?

...

So I did. And she was still sweet and lovely. She said they had a couple Iranian friends who were teaching them the culture. Humans are beautiful. And so is my new hair :)

Merry Christmas!

Simple Pleasures

Wool Cloths
Turtlenecks
Tights and Leggings
Hood
Gloves
Tall Boots
Oh, and my brand new Wool Hat
Now it is time to bring the Safari Duffle Bag and pour everything inside, save the wool hat.  I look forward to walking in the Village and peeking into art galleries.  May be in a year or two we can watch a movie in the Village Theater again when the little (naughty) princess is up for it too.  Long lines to the favorite pizzeria awaits.
I like winter attires. I have always been in love with boots and hoods and scarves and turtlenecks.  Toronto served me well, perhaps too well with -30 degree Celsius wind chills.  And Tahoe is the right mix of cold and snow and warmth of not too thick cloths allowing a leisurely walk in the snow.
Tahoe! Here we come!
God be with all travelers!

Still Not Over

I was hoping to finish the year staying at work late two nights in a row. At last left with most accomplished but not all. I didn't come home saying "here I come and my vacation too". I will work tomorrow for a few hours.

We decided to go to Tahoe tonight. So we are. Last minute deal that did pan out. Looking forward to it now. To take my new book too. "Beautiful Ruins". A romantic novel with a male author. I enjoy literally beautiful romantic novels and differently so if the author is male than female. I want to read it while sitting on a patio chair looking out to the mountains and sipping my freshly brewed coffee. And think about all who will not be with us at the turn of the Roman year. Life. Moments. Separation. Love. Missing. Dying. That's all. 

Let Love and Peace

For centuries we have been living together. For centuries there has been mosques and temples and synagogue and churches in our streets. For centuries people of different sects and beliefs and origins walked on these streets wearing their distinct attires.

For years I witnessed it myself. For years I've seen Christmas decorations alongside black of Ashura in the store decorations. For years I have seen Kurds and Ghasghaiis wearing their colorful dresses and cloths walking by. For years I have walked by a senagague and church and mosque in one afternoon.

This acceptance, this living in peace and harmony alongside each other, this embracing similarities in humanity, is rooted in our being. Despite wars. Despite invasions. Despite rulers and politics and governments. For centuries.

Now, do not fear the fleeting times of governments and politicians.  They come and go and they do anything for a few years in power, a few years that you can count on the fingers of one hand. The century old harmony and love and peace will last after all.

Happy Holidays!

Happy Yalda!

Happy Hanukah!

Merry Christmas!

Happy Rabi' Avval!

Let peace!

Let Love!

A New American Life

Sitting lazily on the sofa with the kids watching the recorded Its A Wonderful Life, the door bell rang around 7PM. Our bell seldom rings. I peaked out through the windows and recognized many people approaching our door still. Carolers I thought. The little angle and I went to open the door and there were a dozen kids in age range of 5-10 singing Rudolf the Red Nose Raindeer. Made me smile with joy. Little m was watching in disbelief. I looked over the tired parents in the back and the excited kids in the front thinking what I should do when it all ended, feeling completely ignorant with this tradition. When it was over I thanked them and wished them a Merry Christmas. Then asked one of the dads who was closest to the door that I had no idea what I should do next. He said nothing and I offered candy but he said the kids had plenty already. We wished each other happy wishes and they left and I came inside completely cheered. Feeling unsettled about what was expected of me though I consulted Google "what should I do when carolers come to the door?"  The answer was 'nothing but smile and happy wishes'. I felt relief in addition to cheered.

Merry Christmas you all!

Fear

A promise

A promotion

A new boss

Unknown directions

Unknown skills

A new year

I fear the unknown.

But I'm doing well. And to continue doing well, to be empowered to do so, to continue adding value and feel valued matters. That's my focus. I choose trust. 

Growing Old Together

The couple beside me have spoken less than a dozen words in the past 7 hours of flight, the guy was responsible for only a couple of those occasions. They are older. Obviously were in U.S. visiting their kids in California and now headed back home. The lady seems bored and perhaps slightly in pain because she occasionally rubs her knee.

I wonder how. I wonder when.

Perhaps they were never of talking kinds.

And I wonder if we are.

I have been thinking about us. How I long for a trip were we feel inspired and have the time and focus to talk about the inspirations.  Somewhere far. Different. New.

I wonder if you would listen. I wonder if you would chime in with your own ideas and muses and dreams. I wonder if we can build something together.

I'm still not done loving.

A New Day

A new birthday! Oh God! Thank you!

And all the friends and all the rain and all the wishes come true!

God! You are! Thank you!

Grateful

Thank God for another Thanksgiving holiday spent with family and friends!

Recounting my year, I feel grateful for many blessings! New and old friends, healthy family, newly discovered wisdom, more mature feelings, a new house. Thank you, God!

What Was I Thinking!?

Laying flat on my back, wide awake at an ungodly hour of some hours after midnight I found my brain active with thoughts.  I was floating in the house in my imagination.  Towels on the kids' washroom's floor.  Cryons scattered from kids' rooms to living room to family room and kitchen.  Dead flowers in the vase on top of the dryer.  Dirty dishes piled in the kitchen sink. Remnant of a baby princess (or so I wish) and a pre teen prince everywhere.

What was I thinking?!

What was I thinking deciding to invite a friend over for the afternoon to host a play date when she inquired?

What was I thinking inviting a dozen friends over for a potluck on Sunday?  In addition to an untidy house I had to work all day and go to school at noon and finish MBA homework too. Save the fact that I needed a haircut, badly.
Later at dawn, right as I was gathering my thoughts sitting in my praying mat, looking from outside within, I pondered, where my heart laid.  What did I value the most?
Family found its place on the top right after health (personal note: remember to call chiropractor and dentist).  Inviting friends only when the house was tidy and sparking clean would for sure hinder gatherings.  Scratched the thought. I supposed we rather meet even among the scattered cryons than not at all.
And finally: work.  Work was fine.  This was a plastic ball that even if dropped, would bounce back up, as opposed to all others.

As it turned out, I was thinking soundly.
Happy Play Dating!

Bitter Hopeful

The seat beside me is empty and I hope it remains as such. Then a lady, perhaps same age as me, perhaps Indian originals, and then a young man at the other isle, again around the same age.

The lady looked too serious. I suppose if she ever glanced at me she would think I looked pensive. As I am.

It is going to be a long flight. I know I don't want to think. Just read perhaps and write perhaps and may be close my eyes a bit.

Oh! The two row companions are actually friends or a couple! So absolutely no chance for any conversation. Oh well!

Even though I was in the brutally boring East London I must say during this trip for the first time I was intrigued. May be next time I'll visit the Soho area.

Oh well! The world is full of good people. I will meet more I'm sure.

Bon voyage!

East London Confidence

It's not easy spending a Sunday evening in East London. It feels forlorn and isolated.

Found myself a walkable pub to dine at. Feeling wary of british cuisine I ordered myself the house soup and a couscous salad. Sat down contempalting on the topic of my research and studies today (aside from conference). The very topic of confidence. Relevant perhaps in light of being called "brave".

The readings on the topic of confidence hit me as familiar yet as if a fainting memory. Self worth. High worthy. Feeling good at performance. Pushing the limits.

Pondering on the why.

Pondering on the how.

I want to reclaim my territory.

Definition

Here I am. A brave one :)

The guy beside me is an American director, living in London, making a movie in Russia. We don't know each other's names but I know he lives in London and divorced after 23 years of marriage when his wife left him with his best friend. Ironically this story immediately reminded me of the song Layla.

Layla.

Laila.

Leyla. 

Leila.

The spelling all the same name to me. The last one the least exotic.

Inquiring about my options to get to conference he encouraged me to take the Tube from Heahrow to ExCel "being brave as I'm sure you are".

Brave.

I never described myself as brave before.

Yet I believe brave I am.

I left my nest when I was only 21 and flew far far away across the Atlantic ocean.

I spoke with total strangers in a language that was not mine.

I leaned new science where I had no way to know before.

I dared to move to Marketing when I hardly knew how to analyze VoC.

I am leading a business unit of a Japanese company in the U.S.

I am promised a promotion. Even though I was ecstatic with the idea of it I couldn't sleep well for a few nights until I cried at last confessing my fear of the job to my M. He is my strength.

I am headed to a conference I know nobody at.

I feel brave!

 

An Orphan with Parents

"It is a strange feeling. As if your tie to the world is suddenly broken. I feel like an orphan." Said the director a few hours ago when we talked. We haven't talked since. We each worked some and tried to take a nap some and seemingly haven't been able to.

Ironically, as I'm reading the last chapters of my book, the wild, I'm warned of how it feels to lose a parent.  It is the author's passed mom's birthday; she is hiking the Pacific Coast Trail in Oregon now and reminded of her mom's death at forty five so vividly she wails in the wild.

Suddenly I miss my parents profoundly. I talked to my mom a couple days ago and my dad a week ago. Ah. I want them close by. I want to see them. I want to argue with them. I want to watch their face as they talk or eat or drink tea or sleep. I miss my Maman and baba. 

Arab Literature

A post by a friend of an FB friend inspired me yesterday to purchase a Japanese literature book. And to read this short story, by Samira Azzam, a Palestinian Christian Arab writer of the 20th century who published her first book in the year my father was born.

The short story is called:

Bread of Sacrifice

I found this quote something to ponder on, for those who defend in war and not who invade, of course:

"War was not simply an enemy to kill voraciously. Rather, it was the assertion of the life of the land he loved and the woman he loved."

Now the author is passed, the baby who was born on the year she was published, in diaspora, is a grandfather of four. And the war still continues.

And who am I kidding. It will continue. This is the reality of time and history.

Let there be love!

Patern of Self

Recognized when I felt wrong about saying a point and still said it. Realized afterwards that indeed the receiver wasn't appreciative of the point conveyed and that I should've honored the disapproving voice inside.

I am learning how vital it is for me to pause and ponder before volunteering a point. Most people are not ready for it. So being fugal with the words might be wiser. 

One of Those Nights

Tonight is one of those sleepless nights that I want to just sing songs under my lips, move my hips with the tune, and sketch my dreams of the future.

I am to become what shall be. 

Midnight Dream

This is a crazy desire but I wish to retire soon!

What does it take to retire?

I rather teach at a school where kids care and I rather write. Above all I rather be home for anyone who needs me around. My little princess the most.

I rather retire from corporate America or corporate Japan soon. Amen!

The Curse of A Driven Woman

I was talking to my ex manager earlier telling him about our upcoming global meeting with our advisory board in Japan and how I didn't want to take the trip being away from my kids. He noted that he was proud of me to which I responded that I wasn't sure about pride. I was grateful for the progress in the company but at some level I wished I could be home with my little princess and make apple sauce of the apples in the backyard. He said "it's tough to be a driven woman"! Oh so true! I would add that it might be a curse actually.

Now here we go. On board. Buckled up. And determined to have a great meeting especially now that I had to leave my most precious treasures behind. It better worth it!

No Picture

Oh baby boy!

Sleep soundly tonight. Tomorrow is rid of bomb and starvation. You won't see your mom crying or your dad wailing, desperately searching for a shelter for you. Ever. You just sleep tight tonight. May you dream of angels!

Mourning

I still feel like mourning. It is as if I've lost a loved one. It is as if I were lost, unbalanced with sudden loss of a limb, trying to find myself again. It is as if I were never going to be whole again and I knew it.

I realize that war has been part of human history. Even my life history started with a war. Yet it has taken a toll from me, for ever, to see people fleeing from their homes and puting themselves and their kids in utmost harms to flee the danger at home. It has taken a toll from me to see families scatter and die. It has taken a toll from me to see a sleeping boy, dead.

Peace!

In Searching for Self

No more do I get excited for too long.

No more do I get disappointed from anyone.

I am searching for the joys and pains of my youth.

Perhaps I have matured, perhaps too soon.

People have come.

People have gone.

I think I'm just getting along.

It all must sound liberating,

It all must feel good.

Yet something is bothersome.

Something missing from this adulthood.

I'm not so sure.

I feel a bit lost.

I'm searching for self.

I think that's a must.

The Taste of Surpise

I grabbed this box this morning from the cafe I had breakfast at. It was beside a white and a brown boxes on the refrigerator shelf. I assumed the white was milk, the brown was coco milk, and this one was banana milk. I didn't have it in the morning and now on my way to the airport I had a last chance to drink it before being forced to throw it away for security reasons at the airport.

Assuming it was milk it was utterly surprising to feel a sweet and sour taste on my tongue upon the first sip!  It took me a good few sips before I realized it was possible pineapple juice!! How my brain expectation blared my ability to judge the taste! How strange to put pineapple beside milk. Or were they milk at all??

Feeling An Alien

It is still foreign to me, this city of Kobe, even after five trips. The foreign language characters are the most alienating to me otherwise not knowing the language or looking different than everyone else is no new experience. It's really daunting imaging making ones way in the crowd of unfamiliar streets and train tracks with no guide but ones memory.

I got lost going from train station to the airport bus stop. In the end my guide was a French boy who spoke a little Japanese while I could converse a broken French with him!  I lost my intended bus but made it to the next one 20 minutes later.

I got the promise of a promotion and even though I'm thrilled about it I feel unsure too. It's yet another new territory for me, to learn the language of and never mind the difference between me and others. To find the best possible strategies and alternatives whenever possible. And to make new paths by walking unfamiliar terrains.

Yaa Huuuu

Don't Fall In Love with A Woman Who Reads - Martha Rivera-Garrido

"Don’t fall in love with a woman who reads, a woman who feels too much, a woman who writes...

Don’t fall in love with an educated, magical, delusional, crazy woman. Don’t fall in love with a woman who thinks, who knows what she knows and also knows how to fly; a woman sure of herself.

Don’t fall in love with a woman who laughs or cries making love, knows how to turn her spirit into flesh; let alone one that loves poetry (these are the most dangerous), or spends half an hour contemplating a painting and isn't able to live without music.

Don’t fall in love with a woman who is interested in politics and is rebellious and feel a huge horror from injustice. One who does not like to watch television at all. Or a woman who is beautiful no matter the features of her face or her body.

Don’t fall in love with a woman who is intense, entertaining, lucid and irreverent. Don’t wish to fall in love with a woman like that. Because when you fall in love with a woman like that, whether she stays with you or not, whether she loves you or not, from a woman like that, you never come back…"

Original in Spanish: 

"No te enamores de una mujer que lee, de una mujer que siente demasiado, de una mujer que escribe...

No te enamores de una mujer culta, maga, delirante, loca. No te enamores de una mujer que piensa, que sabe lo que sabe y además sabe volar; una mujer segura de sí misma. 

No te enamores de una mujer que se ríe o llora haciendo el amor, que sabe convertir en espíritu su carne; y mucho menos de una que ame la poesía (esas son las más peligrosas), o que se quede media hora contemplando una pintura y no sepa vivir sin la música. 

No te enamores de una mujer a la que le interese la política y que sea rebelde y sienta un inmenso horror por las injusticias. Una que no le guste para nada ver televisión. Ni de una mujer que es bella sin importar las características de su cara y de su cuerpo. 

No te enamores de una mujer intensa, lúdica, lúcida e irreverente. No quieras enamorarte de una mujer así. Porque cuando te enamoras de una mujer como esa, se quede ella contigo o no, te ame ella o no, de ella, de una mujer así, jamás se regresa..."

عاشق زنی مشو که می انديشد،

که می داند،

که داناست،

که توان پرواز دارد،

به زنی که خود را باور دارد!

عاشق زنی مشو که

هنگام عشق ورزیدن، میخندد یا میگرید،

که قادر است جسمش را به روح بدل کند،

و از آن بیشتر،"عاشق شعر است"!

(اینان خطرناکترینها هستند)

و یا زنی که میتواند نیم ساعت مقابل یک نقاشی بایستد،

و یا که توان زیستن بدون موسیقی را ندارد!

عاشق زنی مشو که

پُر،

مفرح،

هشیار،

نافرمان

و جوابده است!

پیش نیاید که هرگز عاشق این چنین زنی شوی؛

چرا که وقتی عاشق زنی از این دست میشوی،

چه با تو بماند یا نه،

چه عاشق تو باشد یا نه،

از اینگونه زن

بازگشت به عقب، هرگز ممکن نیست! 

"مارتا ریورا گاریدو" شاعر معاصر دومینیکن"

Again

No more to say.

A Beautiful Saturday

Got my dose of coffee and got to teach the barista how to make Cafe au Lait. He had no idea what an au Lait was, asked, then tried. The result is not bad at all! I must say I admired his daring demeanor! 

It's another MBA Saturday filled with homeworks and assignments due tomorrow.

To be a good story writer one must be genuinely interested in people says Dale Carnegy. I feel this post is mainly about me. And the barista. And I am genuinely interested in you. I promise and my promises are real!

Now let the class begin.

Paris Sans Romance

We were choosing a place to meet and he said "let's go to Paris". Oh I laughed. The choices were Black Bear's Diner, a Mexican place, and the Paris Bagguete Café. The rest is history.

Now I'm sitting here waiting for my old colleague to arrive, he is late. Apparently his clock stopped in the middle of the night. And I don't mind. I got my latte and sat down blogging. Reflecting that funnily enough we had been to Paris together before. We flew into Frankfurt and then Copengahgen, Odens, and finally Paris and I was 5 months pregnant. That was a trip!

Looking out the window there is no reminder of that Paris. Oh how I long for a European vacation. Yet here I am. At Paris Bagguette, waiting and logging.

The Souvenir

Made myself a cup of coffee and absentmindedly brought the mug back to my office, set it on a coaster beside a pencil holder made of shells, another coaster made of woods, and beneath a devil's eye.  Suddenly I noticed them all being souvenirs from far away places and long ago "friends".

The force of the time and necessities of lives had set us apart, me and those friends of the past.  I think about them occasionally still.  With some I have occasional communications, sending a congratulatory note for the birth of a new baby or for their birthday.  With some however, there seems to be nothing else to be told.  And it hurts.  Then I paused in the middle of that thought.  Do I want to be reminded of them, day in and day out, by using their souvenir around the office?  Well of course I thought.  They used to be a friend.  Kind enough to bring me a gift and dear enough for their gift to be treasured.  Yet a nag came back up: were they a friend still?  Surely not.  So whom did I want to be reminded of?  A person in the past who nonsexist now, or the person they were today who was not a friend, or anybody for that matter.  Just a person like any other millions of people out there. Except all the reminders about them pushes the dagger in my heart ever so slightly but surely.

I look at the souvenirs again.  All authentic and pure in their presence yet hurtful at some level with a reminder.

This hurt is a new experience for me.  Fresh.  Foreign.  Ferocious. Unjust.  I know this is not how I live my life.  I know I will get over this one too and will let my heart heal.  In due time.  With or without a souvenir reminder.

Magazines

I rarely buy magazines and there is only Working Mom's magazine I have a subscription for, thanks to my M.  Yet I find myself gravitated toward them. I think what I like about them is how they stay in ones hands (ease of use?) and variations. There are a variety of reading to choose from based on ones interest and need. They are mainly repetitive after a couple reads but sometimes there are novel stuff found too.  Now spending some time on the library it's good to catch up with some sneak peaks.

Good People

Suddenly there are a few good people in my life. Some long-ago friends, some briefly-met acquaintances, some professionals, some service providers, some innovators, some pure helpers no strings attached. I came home fully satisfied with my daily interactions, alhamdolellah! World is still full of good people!

15

The picture is fading; I was watching it yesterday. There are fading colors on the edges and tiny eroded spots on the wood it was printed on. It has moved several times after all, from home to home, from country to country, cities and towns, year after year.  It has weathered.

And so have we.

Fifteen years ago.  First kiss. First dance.  All new and fresh.

Fifteen years after. Several kisses after. Several dances after.  All so familiar and second nature now.  Easy to forget.  Easy to get used to.

Yet we didn't get used to it.

We lived. Life was beyond moments to be watched passing. Life was to be experienced. Refreshed. Renewed. Even in the most dull moments, even when our hearts grew distant, even when life got us too occupied.  We continued refreshing, experiencing, walking closer rather than apart. We spoke and we heard rather than becoming silent sufferers of a contract.  We mended and attended.  We paused and assessed.  We preserved.  So we renewed to "us".

I'm proud of us and the fading picture too. Hope to watch it weather for ever!

Happy 15th Anniversary my M!

Lemme

"Now if I can't be your hotdog lemme be your little weiner

Baby if I can't be your regular man lemme be your in betweener

And if I can't be your human torch lemme be your submariner

Well hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'

Yeah If I can't be your Abercrombie bitch lemme be your five and tener

If I can't be your all-the-time lemme be your now-and-thenner

And if I can't be your now-and-thenner lemme be your you-tell-me-whenner

Mmm hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'

And if I can't be your datenut bread lemme be your soda cracker

And if I can't be your boom-a-dee boom lemme be your clickity clacker

And if I can't be your seven-course meal lemme be your midnight snacker

Yeah baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'

Yeah if I can't be your lovey-dovey lemme be your flirty-flirty

And if I can't be your orchestra lemme be your little hurdy gurdy

And if I can't be your Mr Clean lemme be your Mr Dirty

Oh hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somthin'

Hey if I can't be your Sunday man lemme be your Monday action

Yeah well if I can't be your big big show lemme be your coming attraction

And if I can't be your coming attraction lemme be your momentary satisfaction

Yeah well hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'

And if I can't be your bombardier let me be your tail gunner

If I can't be your serious love lemme be your just-for-funner

And if I can't be your big collision lemme be your hit-and-runner

Yeah well hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'"

Read more: Shel Silverstein - Lemme Be Somethin' Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Chocolat. Again.

The North Wind blew but this time she decided to stay.  The gipsy chocolatier stayed to use her knack for people's favorites. "What do you see" as she span the magical plate and I wonder what I would see, what she would guess for me, what my favorite would be.

First time I watched the movie in Toronto in a cinema I found the Chocolat in Santa Cruz. Surprisingly this time, watching it by myself at home in Los Gatos, I have a feeling that it's going to reveal itself to me in another place, this favorite adventure of mine, the Chocolat.

http://m.imdb.com/title/tt0241303/

Curious Case of A Friendship

Once upon a time there was a friendship that ended unexpectedly, abruptly, unfairly. I told the story of the last rendezvous that never happened to another friend recently. She concluded immediately that it was a one way relationship, that I was the one holding on, that I was the only party keeping the candle of our friendship light.

Now in this sunny day in Indiana driving among the flat terrains and farmlands, I'm pondering on my relationships, of my friends near and far. Of those who are always there for me; and wondering if there is one that I'm the only one who is holding on. The one committed, always there. That I have been pulling along single handedly... Wondering that if I stopped pulling then would we find the connection nonexisting?

Indeed. No single relationship is perfect. Not all friendships are real. And indeed, it would be a shame to make a mistake twice.

Pumas in Rain

Got back to my hotel room soaking wet.

It was a warm cloudy evening. My manager and I had planned to meet in the lobby at 7pm and decide about dinner. I had about four hours till then. I called home, then took a short nap, worked on a couple reports and finally left the hotel around 5:30 to buy a new pair of light compact neutral sneakers for business trips. I first selected a pair of socks and then tried a few sneakers. Was hoping to buy Reebocks. They were my favorites in high school but there was only one pair available and I not appealing to my liking. At last picked my first pair of Pumas. Light, compact, neutral color. Got back in time to leave them in my room and meet my boss in the lobby just two minutes before 7. He was always always before time. In his very polite manner he "suggested" "shall we try hotel restaurant?" I agreed with a smile relieved from duty of yelping a good dinner place close by. After dinner which was heirloom tomato saad with salmon I declared that I needed to go for a walk. He declined so we said good nights and I headed to the parking lot. Four wide rows of parking. I headed toward the main road but when I heard footsteps behind me I immediately changed my mind and decided to stay within the hotel area, walking between the parking rows for 30 minutes. At 28th minute it started raining dampening my face and arms with pleasantly warm drops. What a fresh sense for a water deprived Californian!  Got my Pumas inside before they got soaking wet.

I think I have a decision.

Why don't I Quit

?

Night

Here is the night that is better than a thousand nights. The night that the Angels decend from the heavens and hear our every whisper of longing and desires and prayers. Here is the night that we are forgiven and provided a fresh opportunity to build our selves and our being.

Here is the night and I'm traveling the skies, literary, heading to yet another conference for work. I read the prayers for the night first, all by myself, from a book a friend had gifted me 15 years ago, written in Arabic with Persian translation. The ladies beside me never asked what it was I was reading. Then I wrote in my notebook and summed my prayers even though I knew God knew them all. Then took out my new Leadership Challenge book. Read a couple chapters, highlighted several lines, and jot down a few thoughts. Finally, I took out the Greek Salad I had taken on board with me and ate it while reading my book, the Wild, on my iPhone. The worlds of each of these books enormously apart and infinitely close.

Here comes the midnight. The dawn of a new day. The hopes of a new beginning. And the deep deep desire of being united with my loved ones. Far but close.

Yaa Noor

Departure

One more time, time to say goodbyes. Alas, despite several practices already, it doesn't get easier but harder.

Too tired and sarrowful to write more. Just that I don't feel ready to leave yet. I didn't get to see them long enough. And this time I feel nothing awaits me upon return except for the usual: loneliness, work, and missing. 

And So It Has Been

I can absolutely live here. Happily too.

I'm glad I got to experience life in different parts of this land. I believe that is the very reason I appreciate life here, in Iran, with my families.

It's not easy. It's not hard either. There are hardships like the dust, and I'm grateful the smog is negligible now thanks to better gasoline available now. There is challenges like the traffic and I'm grateful for the thoughtful ads around the city re-educating the public the basics of driving laws like driving between the lines. There is tough situations like the hot weather of the summer and the mandatory covers for us women but there is a variety of choices to choose from.

Above all, I'm grateful for the love of family. Oh yes there are discussions of heated kind sometimes and there are hurtful situations. Yet, this is family after all. The closeness and love are unsurpassed anywhere in the world.

Of course M doesn't agree with me.

I think about this land from an observer from abroad. I wonder what one sees, what one perceives. I hope the beauty prevail!

My Home

At this moment in time Iran might seem closed to the world, might not be as orderly and clean as most touristic places are, and might be perceived more an unsafe place to visit than an exotic destination.

Yet I think at the grand scheme of the history, this is only a fleeting moment. I think the routed culture of kindness and hospitality and the grounded glory will prevail at last even though it might seem covered under the dust of forgetfulness. I believe that the seemorgh, the Phoenix of the wises, will reborn one more time, open her wings, and sweep this land from the dust of forgetfulness; when beauty and kindness will sprout again, everywhere.

This is my home. A standing grounded land that will forever be. God bless this land of Persia!

شايد كه در اين برحه از تاريخ، ايران كشوريست بريده از دنيا، منزوى و تنها، شايد همواره با نظم و تميز جلوه نكند، و شايد براى جهانگردان جايى نا أمن دانسته شود تا كهن و شگفت انگيز، آنچنان كه شايد. 

وليكن من فكر ميكنم اين لحظه از تاريخ در قرنها و هزاره هاى تاريخ بشر لحظه اى گذرا بيش نيست. آنچه من در بطن اين خاك ميبينم روح زيبايى، مهمان نوازى، و ايمان و شكوه واقعيست، گاهى پنهان شده در غبار فراموشى.  من فكر ميكنم روزى ميايد كه سيمرغ، اين ققنوس داناييها، دوباره از خاكستر اين خاك برخواهد خواست، بال خواهد گشود، و غبار ياس و فراموشى را از كوى و برزن اين بام خواهد زدود. آنهنگام زيبايى و مهربانى در جاى جاى وطن جوانه خواهد زد.

اينجا موطن من است. سرزمينى ايستا و ريشه كرده در تاريخ هويت بشر. من اين خاك را دوست دارم. خداوندا بر اين خاك بركت فرست! آمين!

 

The Pain in My Heart

Here comes the tornado, weak, short, and dirty.

Here comes the dust, challenging the light of the Sun, and winning it over too!

Here comes the heat, savage and scorching.

Then appears the river. Thirsty, cracked, and dried. Broken under the savage of the thief of water. 

I remember the fist rainbow I saw when I was a child. I remember the blue sky and fluffed white clouds. I remember the pressure of the water between the pillars of the bridges, heathy and reviving.

I cannot believe my eyes!

گردبادى از دور ميايد. آهسته و بيجان و كوتوله اما زشت و بدخواه.

گرد بر ميخيزد و جلوى خورشيد قد علم ميكند. چون آن مگسى كه در عرصه سيمرغ تاخت گرفته است. و عجبا كه پيروز ميشود بر فروغ خورشيد! آفتاب كم سو شد!

بعد گرما ميايد. داغ و ظالم. 

بعد رودخانه ظاهر ميشود. تشنه. خشك. ترك خورده. دلشكسته از سنگدلى دزد آب.

باورم نيست اين همه خاك را و آسمان خاكى رنگ را. يادم هست اولين رنگين كمانى كه ديدم در همين تهران بود.   آسمان آبى بود با ابرهاى پنبه اى سفيد. آبى كه خروشان بود در همين رودخانه خشك. زنده و زاينده. 

دريغ است ايران كه ويران شود

اگر ايران بجز ويرانسرا نيست

من اين ويرانسرا را دوست دارم

و قلبم در سينه فشرده ميشود ازين منظر معشوق طناز من كه زار و خسته شده، بيرمغ و نااميد!  دل بيمار شد از دست رقيبان مددى!

Take Me Home

I doubt myself. Again.

I know I identify myself by work and define my goals based on career. I know I can do it. I know I have a vision that most people I know don't and I'm helping improve lives by sharing that vision. I like what I do. I even welcome the challenges it brings.

Yet I doubt myself. 

I wonder if the price I'm paying, the toll of long distance travels, the sleepless nights, the strain on my body, the agony in my heart, the longing to feel my kids in my arms, is worth it.

I can identify myself outside of work.

I can be a stay at home mom. 

I can study and run during the day if m is at daycare, hopefully part time, and cook and bake in the afternoon.

I wonder if it would be feasible to keep the house though. I won't have the budget for my MBA. We won't be able to afford many classes for the kids.

I just want to be home. 

Conversation

I just had a very successful conversation with a 9 year old who suddenly sounded like an adult!

I was driving to the airport. It was a Sunday morning. I dreaded the trip for as long as I was assigned. I missed my little m's feel when I hold her in my arms. I missed the unwashed smell of my son's hair already. I felt bad for my M with all the pressures of being a single parent for 5 days.

I called home.

A picked up. He told me gleefully that he was searching on Amazon for his Apple Mini but the one he found within budget came with a black keyboard. I wondered if indeed there weren't any with white keyboard within budget. He said there were but they were cordless and he wanted corded types. No wonder I thought. Corded ones were older versions I assumed and hence just in black. I recommended considering cordless to which suggestion he noted "but if one thing goes wrong with your cordless keyboard your whole system would go down".  I affirmed the logic and added that I assumed because we were discussing Apple products they might have figured out how to extend the life of a cordless keyboard. I agreed that there was less risk involved with a corded type but I preferred more innovative cordless types. He acknowledged but didn't change his opinion. Then I recommended us going to Apple Store after I got back from my buisiness trip and us from the vacation that followed but he said with a two day delivery he could receive his order before our upcoming vacation. I laid a scenario how he would hardly have a day to utilize his new purchase if he ordered he next day while the other scenario would give him an excuse to go to Apple Store and hopefully get the most appropriate system for his needs and within budget. In fact he has been saving for this since Persian new year and he has done a nice job with it I must say.

At this point he put me on hold and came back a few second after announcing that he gave a thought to my suggestion and thought it was a better plan providing him still with the whole summer to play with his Apple Mini.

I just had a very grown up conversation with my most favorite 9 year-young in the whole entire world and time!!

Sags Rock!

A line to remember on a rainy day: " Be your optimistic self, dear Sagittarius. It is your most lovable quality and draws others to you like moths to a flame. It's been said that the Sagittarian propensity to forecast optimistic outcomes is insane given the evidence of many dire situations where the Sagittarian always remains buoyant - it baffles the other signs - but somehow your words always become a self-fulfilling prophesy. Don't change, dear Sagittarius. You are one of a kind."

Love Song Writer

I wonder how you dress up every day; I wonder what you read; I ponder on your taste in songs.

I imagine you a man, in mid 40s perhaps.  A man who has lived, perhaps experienced diaspora.  A man who has loved.  A man who has mended a broken heart a few too many times.  A man who smokes or used to smoke and enjoys his tea black.  A man whose eau de toilette's fragrance lingers in the room after he leaved.  Who checks you out in a party, then finds you in the crowd to tell you bluntly how much he adored the coordination of the color of the flowers on your scarf and the color of your lips.

I wonder if you too find inspiration in cloudy days.

I wonder whom you write to about love.

To Keep A Word

After nine nights, having the utensils and pots and pants and staples unpacked, I could cook tonight. I decided to keep my word and made lentil rice and chicken tonight.

"Dear home-owner,

We fell in love with your house on ... and it would be dreamy even to think that we would be living there.  I believe that you, of all people, would share our sentiment knowing that you have been living there for a long time and loved it too. This is evident to us by the very well-maintained condition of the house, the fitted custom-made cabinets in the garage, and the cute kitchen.  I remember my grandmother’s stove which was just like yours except in skyblue and I remember I made my first dish on it when I was just 7 years young.  It was a lentil dish.  Under my grandmother’s supervision I made a lentil rice dish in a small pot in one of those long hot summer days; everyone enjoyed a spoonful and gave me lots of complements; a sweet memory indeed.  Now, I can picture myself making many dishes for my family and friends standing by that stove in ...., smiling, thinking of good memories and wondering how your life has been in this sweet kitchen over the past decades.  May be even supervise my kids with their first cooking experiments.

We are a family of four ... .  My son, A, was 4 years young when we moved into the general neighborhood, learned to bike in our first house (all the prior places were rentals since we started our family).  He learned to play piano there, and he learned to make a bird feeder, which he tended to every day.  A and daddy built a vegetable bed in the backyard and tended to many flowers there.  He befriended the neighbor’s son who is a fine young gentleman; the family are moving to Arizona soon.  We are concerned about A and how this move would affect him,but we think a new place for us too will make the transition easier, hopefully.

We have a 21-month-young baby girl now, m. We can imagine her exploring the nature in the backyard now, learning to bike in that beautiful cul-de-sac.  In fact we just bought her a bike; she can barely reach the pedals yet she seems to love it.  We hope that our kids can walk and bike to school as much as possible. We like all the high-scored schools that serve this home and how they are in bike-able distances and hope our kids would make many lifelong friends there.  A should be able to easily do this given how close Elementary is, and with some more supervision and safety talks, he can even walk/bike to the Middle School in a couple of years.  I can imagine m walking a 20-minute walk to elementary school along with daddy every morning when she is old enough.

The picture was taken as soon as we offloaded the bike and for memory purposes only

Otherwise the kids always wear helmets :)

 

Oh and m loves to dance.  I can picture her in front of those wall-sized mirrors in the living room dancing to the tunes of her likings while daddy and I will watch her, smiling, marveling in her little ladyship.

M and I are both engineers....  With a young family, M and I tend to work from home as often as possible.  We found the office you have made the exact place we needed.  It is bright and roomy yet opposite to the family room and all the noises in the house.

As a family we like to explore, hike, and bike.  We enjoy biking to ....

We would be so honored to live here.  I can picture us all in this house, for M and I to send our kids off to school and high school and college, to grow old here and throw homecoming parties for our kids and grandkids in this lovely neighborhood and beautiful home.  We sincerely hope that you would consider our offer!

 

Your consideration is greatly appreciated!

On behalf of all of us in D family"

 

A Line to Remember

"In the back of the car and u are driving. I see your eyes only in the rear view mirror and I am smiling. You have such beautiful eyes!"

Guitar Music

The sound of a guitar, a singer with very soft tone, a dim cafe, in a far away land, a foreign language, at midnight.

She is singing melancholic I feel the wet of tears burning my eyes.

Anchored Free

The anchor on my foot set me free.

We just bought a house.  A house that has put us under this humongous debt forcing us to work and produce money at the capacity we are, and more.  No compromise possible anymore!

This fact made me furious!  I felt tethered like a slave to work for the bank until I was rid of this awful weight of mortgage on our shoulders.

How could I?  How could we?

I was this bird imprisoned inside this cage awaiting an occasion to find the door open and flee away to far far away lands.  To open her wings and marvel in the rays of the sun on each feather.  To ascend high and descend low as the heart pleased.  To soar the skies and discover new lands.  To meet new birds and greet new opportunities.  To learn and execute outside this cage.

Now this caged bird had a tether on her foot too.

The bird had to stay now.  Stay put and concentrated.  Not only the door wont open, there wont be any flying even if it did.  No chance to explore outside the security of this job.  She needed the security of the place now.

Disappointing!  Unfair!  Maddening!  Infuriating!

It took a couple days for the bird to suddenly feel content.  There was no new opportunity to explore outside but there seemed to be many opportunities inside now that she had the (forced) time and occasion to focus on it.  She thought she wanted to be here.  To stay here.  To observe and learn and explore from right here.  As long as God has her sustenance here, she would graciously accept it.

Focused!  Hopeful!  Innovative!  Optimistic!  Spontaneous!  Joyous!  Satisfactory!

The anchor on my foot set me free!

All Connected

I suddenly realized how connected these all are.  Again!
Walking back toward my office building the other day I raised my head for a change and I saw this beautiful tree full of pink blossoms.  I was awestruck.  Had they just bloomed overnight or had I really not see them?!
I smiled at my ignorance.  I smiled because I knew I had experienced how not to be ignorant.  I used to see.  In my joyful youth I used to observe the leaves, the sky, the road, the people, the time.  I used to walk with my head high.  I remembered how it used to feel.  I knew how to experience it.  I felt grateful.
Then I continued reading the book at hand, How to Win Friends and Influence Others where I was challenged to not blame.  To find any occasion to encourage and appreciate.  I had to be observant of the behaviors around me to be able to praise them I reckoned.
Then I went to the Circle to learn that the focus of the month was also about being an objective witness, leaving opinions and blame, and serve unselfishly in love.
Ah! I walk in ecstasy now.  How these all manifested in a sequence of events and experiences; orchestrated well outside my realm of influence.
Blissfully feeling connected in this all now, again!

Life to Live

She said "we are here to live happily". So if work is not happy change it. And if friend makes you unhappy, well then is not a friend!

I want to release this sadness and turn it to happiness. Here is to be happy and to feel grateful!

To Forget

PS: A Friday afternoon. Alone. Feverish. Watching Copenhagen (2014). Our offer got approved. 

Connection Lost and Found

I wake up in the morning planning about work stuff: time to get ready, anticipated traffic, whom to call during my morning commute, estimated time of arrival, first meeting in the day, the landscape for the full day, what to focus on, etc.  Then I execute on them.

In the late afternoon I arrive home trying not to think about work peaking only occasionally on my iPhone.  Yet when there is an email from the "grown ups" I jump at it and completely submerge in it.  It takes time after that to get back to home life.  And even more alarming, to get back to real meaning of life and the true contentedness.

I came to work this morning yearning to read a particular piece of poem.  Indeed, despite the availability of everything at my fingertip with the iPhone technology, I still marvel in reading poetry from books and not screens.  I have only two books at work which are far from what I used to have in my room growing up.  All books literally at my fingertip in the book shelves above my study desk.  I had pieces of paper with a verse or two on them all around my desk and the wall behind it as constant reminders.  Reminding me of the goal.  Of my path.  Of my real truth.

"To reach Leili's (i.e. beloved's) house which has a lot of dangers on the path awaiting you

the first requirement is to be Majnoun (headless in love)"

"Since you have Noah as your ship captain, what fear from the storm?"

"The secret to peace in the two worlds are hidden in two philosophies:

To remain faithful to the friend

To practice affability with the enemy"

"The mood of the times would never stay the same, do not grieve"

These constant reminders looked fancy and felt like fantasy at the time but now I know they were necessity.  They were a means of connection which was lost.  Now I found it!

Donno How

There is one caveat in getting simple: I don't know how.

So, to start, I am going to induce a routine in my days every day of a week and examine the result.

This week, I am going to sit in my car upon arrival at home, and breathe in and out from belly for 2 minutes.  My goal is to see how it helps with releasing stress and may be have some cleansing effect or some sort of resetting before getting home and facing my kids.

PS: Happy Nowruz!  Happy Spring!

Time to Get Simple Again

Life was two sets of school uniforms, a bunch of books and notebooks on the bookshelf, a drawer full of cassettes, and a few poetry books and post its of favorite verses.  That was my high school.  I used to be free.  Looking into the future.  Living every day.  Seeing every leaf.  Watching each step.  Remembering the Friend.

Everything had a place in my room.  I was a free girl, laughing, crying, marveling in each friend and every friendship, chatting openly with my mother and father.  I used to enjoy the simple pleasures.  I didn't try to please anyone yet I was confident most were pleased with me.

Time to get back to it.

I feel stressed and overwhelmed.  I feel too much pressure at work especially from people; the single thing that is 100% out of my hands.  I feel the MBA coursework that I have just started is breaking my back.  I feel behind on house chores.  I feel that the thoughts of people's opinion of me have cluttered my head, darkened my brain, burdened my heart.

It is time to get simple again.

I am going to, from this moment on, stop trying to please everyone, especially at work.

Work is my game now.  I am not here to stay, I am here to learn.

I am going to enjoy the simple pleasures.

And I am going to stand tall and believe in me; same way Molly Lou Melon's grandma advised her.