More updates

• I am completely sleepless and awfully tired
• Love the conference and cases
• Met old friends tonight, enjoyed being with them a lot
• A's voice is extremely sweet over the phone
• The body works museum: fabe'ayye aalaa'e rabbekomaa tokazzebaan
• Houston is very wide and flat
• Met a neurosurgeon who works at UHN in Toronto; encourages me to go back; brain drain
• Need to wake up at 6:20 am tomorrow
• It is 1:02 am today
• Revise: need to wake up at 6:20 am today
• Have missed my M awfully
• Chamomile tea does make me calm
• Ice cream makes me even calmer
• A cat walked on my lap tonight
• Good midnight!

A scattered mind in Houston TX

I arrived here last night. It is warm and slightly humid here, which is a nice contrast to the air conditioned conference rooms and cabs. I am here for the LINC conference, mainly focused on neurovascular diseases, case studies, and complications. So far I really liked the first day of the conference.
It is hard though being away from home, i.e. Iran or Canada. Honestly I feel much better and more comfortable in Canada. I know a lot more about the culture, and people are so kind and friendly and welcoming. I feel being tagged on a lot lately, being questioned if I know of a place or of a tradition, and half of the times I don't. It is strange.
Some times I think this is the time I got to be who I want to be. I always have new plans and I always think about sudden changes in direction. However, lately I keep reminding myself that this is all I have got. There is no future to look forward to for being another person. All is present.
One of the sudden changes that cross my mind once in a while is to stay home again, for a year or less, to be with Arman at this age. I am in a deep controversy actually. I am ambitious in my work, I know that, and I like my work. But I love spending more time with Arman too.
I guess my mind is scattered again! But there is a season for every thing. This season is for me to be in Houston, or didn't I choose to be here?

The Religon of Love

"Self-righteousness is a disease of religion". [Living presence by Kabir Edmund Helminski]
I am wondering. I am contemplating ...

Happy Eid

Happy Eid every one! It is a little nostalgic the first day after the fasting month, but there is a sense of accomplishment and God willing enlightenment with it which I adore.

I had my first meeting with my new manager today. I was going there and I had this betrayal feeling I had the day I went to a dentist who was neither of my parents. But by the end of the meeting I had a much better feeling. This new manager seems also like a very good mentor, and he knows what he is doing, direct to the point. I am glad and grateful we had this meeting.

There is this saying of "it is not personal, it is business" which I cannot digest. After all we are human beings and whatever we do is personal. The corporate, the business, is only a means through which we show our personality and hopefully grow to be a better person. I think believing in this slang is similar to believing in "it is ego, it is not morale".

a letter from 20 years ago

It is more than twenty years that I can write!
I read a letter, a piece of writing. It was written by me. I had written it twenty years ago and had read it in the public of my family: aunts and uncles, cousins, and grandparents. I read it again today and I thought I was reading another person's writing.
In the letter I had explained that we had fled our cities to a safe place with the whole family. I had impressed how joyful it was to be with all the loved ones and how painful it was for me to think of other people who had not the luxury of a shelter like I had. I was not even 10 years old when I wrote the letter but I felt the ache even now when I read it. When I read what I had written as if reading another person's writing!

She

She sits on a bench. There are autumn leaves all over the ground. A chilly breeze caresses her hair and blends with her sigh. Her eyes are melting with sorrow. Glimpses of tears at the edge of her eyes become obvious once in a while, tears that never fall down her chick but are welled in her heart.
She looks at the sky. It is blue, autumnal blue.
She gets up the bench and walks to the tall tree in front of her. Puts her two hands on the trunk of the tree. A narrow tall tree, live under her fingers. She follows the tall trunk with her eyes to the sky and roots her feet in the earth. Her tears in her heart becomes the moist inside the branches. The tree is alive. She is alive. That is all that matters. She is.

Restructuring

It has been lovely hearing from concerned friends about my new situation at work. Things are starting to get some form. Our group is restructured with a new manager, and more changes is inevitable.

It was great hearing from my ex-manager after he left that he believed in my abilities to even take leadership role in conducting the tasks, although I am not planning to do so. And it was great revisiting the fact that despite the occasional hardships we had at work we had built a constructive working relationship through which we could conduct efficiently and effectively. I appreciate his mentoring me; like I never forget my experience with the kindest boss I ever had whom I worked with at Canspec.

I have started reviewing some vocabulary work. It is a very nice experience for me, a different hobby, and fun to bring the dusty words from the back of my mind in my daily activities. After all it is words we use to communicate. The thought evolves into words to be told.

Dream

There were three friends at our place. We were having something, may be dinner. One of them was playing guitar. And then another friend called, asked if he could join us and I was very happy to find him wanting to spend a lonely night with us.
Did I tell you that I have missed my old friends?

7 days of work

I have been trying to accept the flow of life and not to impose any resistance to it. I am trying to be.

There is nothing permanent in this life.

The impermanent earthly life includes my manager who resigned a couple days ago. I am just observing the dust after his resignation, the people, the flow of life which seems disturbed profoundly. I accepted his departure, and now I accept the people even if their behavior is inappropriate. At the same time I am telling the truth. And I am confessing it has been a challenge for me so far, I am tired. Yet I am going to work tomorrow.

A Sunday at Work

I was driving to work early this morning. It was foggy. There were only a few cars on the road. I could not tell if they were also going to work, or were driving to meet a loved one, or to reunite with nature, hiking on the neighboring hills. In any case it was a unique drive.
May be though I wished I was driving to another destination.
I had a call from a loved one. It was sweet.

Love and Presence

There is love flowing around me. I have been among lovers, friends, crushers, and lovers, again. I enjoy it. I like the tone change when they talk, the glow in their face, the way they sound when the name of their lovers come to their lips. This is really joyful.
And I have been reading "the power of now" thanks to VM. He re-introduced the book to me and I bought it, the audio version of it. I love it, more than that I need it.

love and imagination

1) We were at relatives' place on Saturday. In the evening I carried A to the backyard to show him the night sky, the moon, and the tall trees shadowing on the yard. He spotted a tree with pink flowers: "Wow! flowers, they are pink, they are beautiful, they're like mommy"! Since then every time he sees a pink flower he states the same observation "wow, gol, sooratie, ghashange, mesle maamaane"!

2) The other night I bent over his highchair to pull him out. He grabbed my neck in a hug pushing his chick to mine saying: "you are my love!" or actually " to eshghe mani!"!

3) Last night he was playing with his blanket on the floor bundling it this side and that side, then he claimed " I made a deer"!!! Then he changed the configurations claiming: " I made a chicken". All we could see was an untidy blanket... Remember the Boa who had swallowed an elephant and all that the grown ups could see was a hat in "The Little Prince"?

قدیمی

آرام بگیر فرزندم، آرام ...
زندگی در دستان توست
باران می بارد
و تن خسته و ​غمبارت را می شورد
و غمهایت را نثار بیکران زمین می کند
نه اینکه زمین هست؟
نه اینکه آب هست؟
پریشانی چرا؟
صبح می شود
طلوع، نور، روشنایی، ببین
نه اینکه شب خواهد شد
شب خواهد آمد
تاریک، غریب، آرام، قریب
صبر کن، همین امشب صبر کن
نه اینکه روز خواهد شد؟
چرا اشک نمیریزی که آرامت کنم؟
نه اینکه من هستم؟
زنده شو ...
دیرگاهیست که مرده ای
زنده ات کرده ام
دستت را باز کن
زندگی از دانه دانه انگشتانت به زمینی میریزد که گاهواره ات کرده ام
آرام بگیر فرزندم
زندگی امروز در دستان توست

نسیم نیمه شب

to infinity and beyond

Arman was lying on the ground. Then suddenly he sprung off the floor, went to the wall and put his palms on the wall: "let's go up" -"up where momy?!" -"Let's go to the sealing" -"!!!! you want to go to the sealing?!" -"Let's climb the wall to get to the sealing" -"Sure, you go ahead and try, but it is gonna be difficult"...
I think, as much as I am capable of interpreting my A's thoughts, that he had been observing the fact that a room has six sides and we only use one, so he wanted to make sure he would use the rest of the space.
I used to walk while my head was tilted all the way to the back and my gaze was at the sealing when I was a child, to experience how it could have been if we were to walk on the sealing, what obstacles were there and so on and so forth. But I was totally amuzed by A's willingness to walk the wall to reach the sealing and really walk the sealing!

Eid

Happy Eid!

Suddenly things are back in place in my mind. I have been debating on so many things all of which were dependent on some other things in my life. So it was almost impossible to decide on them all at once. Then during the past holy week a decision some one else made indirectly limited my options and since then I have been thinking more clearly. This partial clarity in my mind was very much required. Last night I made a decision on another subject which yet again made me see my path even more transparent. Of course nothing is definite and this fact is another relief by itself; I am flexible enough to change path. After all these, looking at my desired destination, I convey my boat to the waves of life and will trust God to put me to a calm coast, may be even to the ultimate destiny if S/He mays.

Old me

My old self used to write poems. I used to not call them poems though.
I remember some of them. I wrote a couple new ones here, in my blog, when I was my newer version of my old self. So it is not totally an old habit to write.
Then today, I received an e-mail from a dear friend in my heart with one of my old poems in it; I read it in awe.

a few months ago I was reading Ignorance, a novel by Milan Kundera, which was a gift from the same uniquely great friend. There is a few chapters in the book describing Josef reading his diary from his teenage hood. He is more than 40 years at the time. I cannot tell that I had the same feeling as was explained in the book towards this poem, or when I read my old diaries. But at the same time there is some thing that drives me towards this part of the book:

"Josef tries to understand the virgin boy, to put himself in his skin, but he is not capable of it. That sentimentality mixed with sadism, that whole business is completely contrary to his tastes and to his nature. He tears a blank page out of the diary, picks up a pencil, and copies out the sentence "I wallowed in her sadness". He contemplates the two hand writings for a long time: the one from long ago is a little clumsy, but the letters are the same as today's. The resemblance is upsetting, it irritates him, it shocks him. How can two such alien, such opposite beings have same handwriting? What common essence is it that makes a single person of him and this little snot?" Ignorance: A Novel; Page 83

The cottage

I need a vacation. Need to travel. I need a cottage far away from civilization for a couple of days. The cottage is by a lake and there is a tall mountain not far from the lake which reflects on it. There are trees all around the cottage. Birds chirp on the tree branches and chipmunks run here and there as quick as they are. I spot a deer drinking water from the lake now and then.
There is a bench by the lake, close to the cottage. I sit there most of the day, and night. The moon is full these nights and I don't need a lamp to take me to the bench or lead me back home from there. I sit there before sunset. I write a few lines in my note book. I enjoy writing. Then I read a few pages of my books. I could not pick only one to take with me in this journey. I have five books with me but I take two to the bench before I leave the cottage every time. Watching the sun disappearing behind the mountain I read The Book, and then I pray. There are tears in my eyes and I am happy in my heart.
I go back there around midnight. I love the peace and quiet. There is the lake reflecting the moonlight, and there is every thing reflecting the God's light. This light is not visible all the time but here I can see it clearly.
The sun rises behind the cottage. I detect all the wrinkles on the mountain. How I adore this mountain. There is no desire in me to climb it. I need it to feel tall and be tall and I need me to be tiny in front of it.
The day is here. I have all day to walk, to read, to swim in the blue lake, and to write, to pray.
Around the afternoon I make my last cup of tea and sit on my bench.
They are coming to pick me up. Time to go back to civilization.

These days

I have been missing writing in my blog...
We have guests over for about 10 days now whom will stay for about two months. It has been fun and super busy. I lack some sleep both because of later sleeping times lately and also because of Arman's frequent cries at nights this past week. I am not a coffee drinker and yet I made myself a cup just now at work to artificially wake myself up.
Work is good. Dealing with people makes me learn more about myself. I admit that I don't approve of this self very often lately. There was an era that I was proud of my communication skills, especially back at high school and university. Besides my self esteem and negotiation skills I maintained I had a hidden sort of luck. The opportunities to convey a message just flew to me and it seemed really easy. However, this is no ,ore the case these days. I need to think, and seize opportunities, and rethink and revisit the conversations after the fact. This is amusing though. I am learning that it is not required or even acceptable to be nice all the time.
Arman is brightly growing up. His Persian is awesomely sweet. He is very keen about his sorrounding. I adore him adoring different colors or new cloths on me or spotting the moon in the sky while it is still light. He sings and while we enjoy it he seems enjoying himself too. This is adorable!

نمیدونی وقتی چمات

نمیدونی وقتی چشمات پر خوابه به چه رنگه

نمی‌دونی
با صدای عبدالعلی وزیری
آهنگساز: علینقی وزیری
نوازنده تار عبدالعلی وزیری
شعر: هما میرافشار
دستگاه: دشتی

نمی‌دونی، نمی‌دونی
وقتی چشمات پر خوابه،
به چه رنگه، به چه حاله
مثل یک جام شرابه
نمی‌دونی، نمی‌دونی
چه عمیقه، چه سخنگو
مثل اشعار مسیحایی حافظ
یه کتابه یه کتابه
مثل یک جام شرابه
نمی‌دونی، نمی‌دونی
که چه رنگه، چه قشنگه
رنگ آفتاب بهاره
مثل یک جام بلوره
شایدم چشمه‌ی نوره
مثل یک جام شرابه
نمی‌دونی که دل من
توی اون چشمای شوخت
روی اون برکه‌ی آروم
یه حبابه یه حبابه
مثل یک جام شرابه
نمی‌دونی و به جز من
دگری هم نمی‌دونه
که یه دنیا توی اون چشم سیاهه
هرکی گفته، هرکی می‌گه
همه حرفه تو رو می‌خواد بفریبه
جز دل من که پر از عشق و جنونه
حرف اون چشم سیاهو
دل دیگه نمی‌دونه
چشم دیگه نمی‌خونه
نمی‌دونی، نمی‌دونی
وقتی چشمات پر خوابه
به چه رنگه، به چه حاله
مثل یک جام شراب