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.