tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14058884528008247012024-03-05T11:12:34.465+02:00Ravings"To gain your own voice, you have to forget about having it heard..."
One day I will find the right words, and they will be simpleCherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.comBlogger174125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-16719211017381011082017-02-04T11:39:00.000+02:002017-02-04T11:39:27.477+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Fangirl's dream come true<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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How many times have you read a story and have it leave you with endless, nagging questions when it finished? Too many times to count, for me. (I am always amazed at literature's ability to completely engage and transport me - I <i>live</i> in the character's skins, I <i>feel</i> their emotions as keenly as though they were my own - because this rarely happens for me with movies). </div>
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When people ask the question, "Who would you invite to a dinner party, dead or alive, if you could choose absolutely anyone" my list would be mostly literary (<i>mind you, I would invite Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie and Chris Evans for laughs, and Tom Hiddleston and Jared Leto for eye-candy and controversy</i>). I would love to have a conversation with Jane Austen about our shared penchant for writing strong women who always get their happy ending. I'd thank Charlotte Bronte for writing my favourite literary heroine of all time, and for writing a story that is pretty real (as far as novels go). I want to ask Stephenie Meyer whether Renesmee and Jacob are able to have kids. I want to know whether St John Rivers ever gets married after Jane Eyre rejects his proposal.</div>
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The fan fiction literary world evokes pretty much the same feelings and questions. </div>
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I came across a particular writer, who had a few couples she always wrote about, one of them being my favourite as well. I love EVERYTHING she writes. And then about two years ago, she disappeared...and left my favourite story incomplete. I read the story every so often, and each time my longing to know how things end would just grow, this perpetual itch in my head and heart that I couldn't scratch (and might never be able to). I even thought about continuing the story myself, just for myself. But that would be intellectual theft and even if I could relax my conscience, I'm nowhere near as good with words as she is. I was preparing to die with this itch.</div>
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And then a few weeks ago, I come across her name again and discover that she has kind of resurfaced. On a lark, I commented on one her recent stories to express my elation at her return. To my astonishment, she not only responded to my comment, we basically had a whole conversation (<i>this is the one thing the internet is good for - it enables us to connect with people that inspire us and make us happy</i>), and then she went and did something even more amazing... She scratched my itch and got rid of it completely.</div>
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To Startraveller776:</div>
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There are no words to appropriately express what I am still feeling after your email. You literally made my dream come true. And I completely understand your reasons for not wanting to go back to your old work - I mean, you did not have to do this for a complete stranger, and the fact that you did this for me...only by reaching into my chest and feeling my heart might be able to convey the extent of my happiness.</div>
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As a fellow writer, I know there are days where you feel like you are a complete failure at your craft. When those days hit, I hope you will come back here and read this again, to encourage you to push through those moments and to remind yourself that you have an extraordinary skill with words and that you have, at the very least, one loyal reader, who is looking forward (with bated breath and the greatest of anticipation) to what you produce next.</div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-33145328735455068332017-01-14T15:06:00.000+02:002017-01-14T15:06:19.926+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Illness: always a difficulty, but if you look closely, also a blessing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>Yes, I know the new year has come and gone. I know that we are two weeks into 2017. But real life did not allow me to complete this challenge in its time, and I hate leaving things unfinished, so my aim is to finish it before the end of January. It is, after all, closer to 2016 than February or any month after...</i><br />
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After work yesterday, a colleague was telling me about her stint in hospital for an emergency procedure that she had done before the start of the school year, and inevitably, the conversation ended up as an exchange of family medical stories.<br />
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My family has been through the mill with illness. Cancer, heart surgery, kidney surgery, gastric surgery...these are but a few. Recently, over the last 10 years or so, it feels like we've had a medical emergency every year, and in a close-knit family like mine, illness can take over everyone's lives. When it happens, everything in your life seems to take a backseat, and your focus is concentrated on navigating the recovery. But, illness is something that I'd prefer to endure, over other crises or afflictions.<br />
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I've seen what drug addictions can do to families. I have seen families break up over the pettiest of disagreements. And as hard as it is to watch someone you love have to suffer through a medical crisis, in my experience, many good things can and have come from it. Illness has brought my family closer each time. It has unearthed strength I didn't know I had. It forced my father, a control freak who refuses to retire with no concern for his own health, to take better care of himself. I witnessed the amazing resilience of children as I watched my 4-year old niece battle leukemia like a pro, and my one month old nephew survive an operation that was supposed to kill him.<br />
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Illness can be nightmarish for families. But, it is the one difficulty that always has some kind of positive consequence, even if it is only a bigger appreciation for your own health.<br />
For my family, the positive spin offs and blessings have been plenty indeed.</div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-54975749128963355122016-10-05T23:33:00.000+02:002016-10-05T23:33:05.438+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Whispers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When I took my writing class three years ago, we did this exercise once a week, where we were given a verb and asked to come up with as many synonyms for it as possible. The aim was to train us to use the most appropriate verb within a sentence, as opposed to using too many adverbs or adjectives.<br />
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For example, the word "talk" has so many synonyms, and yet, they do not all simply mean to "communicate using your mouth, voice and words" - you could talk slowly (<i>drawl</i>), or quickly (<i>ramble</i>), or with difficulty (<i>stutter</i>). There were times where this particular exercise frustrated the hell out of us, but was usually accompanied with quite a few laughs. In the end it expanded our vocabulary as writers, and enabled us to paint a picture with words, rather than just relate details.<br />
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Another synonym for this word is "whisper". The first definition of the word whisper that I come across is <i>"to speak with soft, hushed sounds, using only the lips and breath, without vibration of the vocal cords". </i>What a beautiful description! And being the incurable romantic that I am, I always associate this word with gentleness <i>(trees, water, a breeze making a soft, rustling sound) </i>or romance <i>(to talk softly or privately).</i><br />
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However, this beautiful word can have an ugly connotation - <i>"...to talk softly or privately (often implying gossip, slander, plotting or the like); a rumour or insinuation..." -</i> as I've discovered these past few weeks. I have been...heartbroken and angry because of some ugly things that have been whispered about me - angry at their inaccuracies and the physical effects that their negativity has had on me, and heartbroken because it revealed people's true colours (as well as their cowardice and the very bad opinion they seem to have of me).<br />
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But with difficulty comes introspection. I am not perfect, and while I try to stay away from gossip and try to refrain from badmouthing people (particularly when they are not present to defend themselves) I am human, and I have slipped up many times in my life in this regard. And it made me wonder whether I was being punished for doing the same to others.<br />
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While this whole ordeal was a good reminder for me to mind my mouth, and to reserve my judgement, it has made me a lot more distrustful of people in general (and of some in particular).<br />
Whispers born of resentment, envy and assumptions can have some damaging effects, even when you don't hear them. And if I've learnt anything, it's that only the Almighty can protect you against them.</div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-84189482450775212202016-08-12T07:40:00.003+02:002016-08-12T07:40:51.223+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Rejection<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I entered my very first online writing competition a few months ago. The prize for this competition was some money but more importantly, having your submission published online. I didn't expect to win, but eternal optimist that I am, I hoped. Stranger things have happened.</div>
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Today is the day the winner was announced, and sadly, my inbox remains empty.</div>
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I went online to check, and the winner's story was published.</div>
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It's not mine.</div>
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And yes, although I did not expect to win, I am still sad and disappointed that I didn't.</div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-76524759907980526882016-08-08T21:02:00.000+02:002016-08-08T21:20:03.005+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - There is no Team without Trust<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I am a very different sort of character at work.</div>
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My methods, while very efficient most of the time, seem to rub my colleagues up the wrong way (all the time). But apart from me, one of the biggest challenges I think we face as a staff is a serious lack of unity.</div>
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When I started this job, almost seven years ago, I was the second youngest staff member - not only in age, but in experience, both in years at the school, and in working years in general. Whenever I tried to implement a new idea or tried to go about my duties in a different way, it was met with resistance. It was here that I experienced how averse people were to change. "She just started here yesterday, who does she think she is?" This is a comment that was passed almost every week, and one I still here whispers of now and again.</div>
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It saddens me to have to say that not everyone shares the same vision for the school or its learners; not everyone is supportive when their colleagues wish to do anything that would benefit the school or the learners we are supposed to serve. And in some extreme occurrences, some have even gone so far as to sabotage the efforts of others.<br />
For as long as I can remember, it has been drilled into me to do things without expectation of recognition. But I'm not Jesus. I don't necessarily want recognition, but I <i>feel</i> it when the things that I do go unappreciated (especially when they've yielded results). It makes me want to quit my job and take my skills elsewhere.</div>
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It is one of the most demoralizing kinds of atmospheres to work in, and during the last six and a half years it has prevented me from taking on more challenges. I've never really felt part of a team.</div>
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This year, due to one of our senior colleagues falling ill, some of the newer and younger colleagues and I were forced into taking charge of a project. We were very apprehensive about taking it on - we don't enjoy the support of our senior colleagues, and we have to contend with a counter-productive vibe (from them) that feels like they're waiting for us to fail.</div>
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Despite this, I have every confidence that we'll make a success of it. All of the people involved are on the same page, we all want this to succeed and we are all willing to do what we can, and what is necessary. Yes, we don't agree on everything, but we can do it in adult manner, and we trust that we all have the school's best interests at heart. We are able to recognise and appreciate each other's talents, and for the first time ever, I feel like a valued team member.</div>
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"Without trust, we don't truly collaborate; we merely co-ordinate or, at best, co-operate." The trust we have shown with each other so far really has transformed an unlikely group of people into a team. And though we will face some challenges, I am certain that we will make a success of our collaboration in the end.</div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-48993872296075680232016-05-30T23:28:00.000+02:002016-06-05T15:47:56.903+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Emotional Security<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As far as embarrassing stories go, there is one my
mother loves to tell about me, one we’ve heard so many times I’ve lost count.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">When I was about three years old, I apparently had
this habit of walking around – I used to randomly visit the neighbours, and
sometimes the people we knew who lived in the next road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">One evening, it was way after sunset, and my family
couldn’t find me. My brother and sisters had checked all of my usual haunts
(yes, I had these at three) and at all of the neighbouring homes, and still no one
could find me. It was raining that evening, and when my mom checked, my
raincoat was gone too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">After a while, I came waltzing in the door, and my mom started scolding. Even after explaining that I was at the new neighbour’s
house (one they did not check), I got the spanking of my life and was told I
could go to bed without supper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">My family was sitting in the living room watching TV
and after a few minutes, I walked in with a plate of food I’d dished myself
(from the pot on the stove – my mom had made my favourite that evening), and
when they looked again, my brother burst out laughing because I’d fallen fast
asleep on the coffee table, my empty plate next to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As embarrassing as it sometimes is for me to hear
(particularly in front of strangers) I love this story because it shows two
aspects of the personality I now have as an adult. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you that I’m
a doer – I get shit done, and many times on my own, and from this memory I can
see that I exhibited signs of self-sufficiency and independence from a very
early age.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The second aspect I only realised today, and once I
did, certain things in my life made sense – more specifically, my reactions to
certain things. There were three instances in my life where I felt like I couldn’t
handle the situation, like I wanted to crawl under the blanket and stay there
indefinitely, and today I could put into words the thing that linked those
three instances – lack of emotional security.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I’ve come to realise a few things: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Firstly, there are certain people in your life who have
a direct effect on your emotional security; Secondly, when that emotional
security becomes unstable or is ripped away, it feels worse than any physical
injury (to me, at least); <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And thirdly, sometimes the people you love the most
make you feel very insecure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Today I owned up to a truth I was avoiding for a
long time – I need emotional security, and I need it from those that I love and
who claim to love me. And for the first time, I can say this to myself and
realise that it is not a weakness. It is me embracing who I am. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">My three year old self fell peacefully asleep because she knew,
on a subconscious level, even after a scolding and a spanking that she was in a
secure environment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I need a hug, or a kiss, or an “I miss you” text, or
a “How did you wake up this morning” phone call. I need physical gestures of
concern and love, because that is how I know that I am important to people, and
that in turn gives me emotional security.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And now that I have acknowledged this need within
myself, the next step is to be able to share this revelation with the people on
whom my emotional security currently depends…and to brace myself for the
possibility that they may no longer want to be the source of that security for
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-25116861315160192862016-05-19T13:28:00.000+02:002016-06-18T10:33:35.403+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Kindness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The principal of my school conducts a ten minute briefing every morning before the siren sounds the beginning of the school day. A few years ago he said to me that the reason for this is to greet the entire staff, as well as set the tone for the day. Usually, only he or the Deputy will conduct these briefings, but this term, in the spirit of team-building and staff development, he decided to give every educator an opportunity to inspire his/her colleagues - everyone had to select a date, and prepare something for their morning.</div>
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I initially laughed at this idea, because of some of the negative reactions to it by my colleagues. But for the last few weeks, I've heard some really positive things about this exercise, and it may just be me, but on certain days I've noticed that people are nicer than on others.</div>
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Today, one of our Grade R (kindergarten) teachers had her turn. In addition to her words of inspiration, she also gave each of her colleagues a heart shaped chocolate cookie, wrapped with a cute/naughty label. Although my office colleague and I did not sit in the briefing (we have to man the phones and front gate at all times), she came into the office and gave us one also. We've all been giggling about it the whole day.</div>
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Of all the praiseworthy qualities people can possess, kindness is the one that affects me the most. Not only because it is such a rarity today, but also because when one does experience it, it comes with strings attached or an ulterior motive.</div>
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I love when people are randomly kind to one another. Something as small as cookie and a smile made me approach the day's challenges in a very different way...and it makes me regret those times where I've let the stress of a particular moment translate into meanness, and where I may have ruined someone's day because of it. It makes me appreciate the many times an unexpected act of kindness managed to change my entire day - be it a smile from a stranger, or a hug from a child, or a sweet text message from a friend.</div>
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I'd like to dedicate my post today to Nabu...</div>
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You are kindness itself. And your random act of kindness has echoed through my entire day so far...</div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-73246487957270915692016-05-08T23:28:00.000+02:002016-05-08T23:28:41.195+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Better Half?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">How often do we hear people refer to their
significant others as “my better half”? It’s an expression many are quite fond
of. Initially, this used to irritate me because it’s so cheesy, especially when
done over social media, as is the norm today (ugh, can we please get over
sharing <i>every</i> detail of our
relationships with everybody).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">However, petulance aside, when I really think about
the phrase ‘better half’ two things come to mind: low self-esteem and danger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">It is wise to be aware of one’s own short-comings
and quirks, and it is always good to have an awareness and sincere appreciation
for the good in others. But it is necessary to also be aware of one’s own
light, one’s own capacity for goodness, and the humanness of others. It is a
very bad idea to compare yourself to others, particularly to the person you are
supposed to love above everyone else. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZ3fdxAgb8eTcnBgtaWzChUBh3JuRlJD7YYkGtPevMwovlkc_xuHyzSCY2EbE1ik0UlHibrz1Ud4qSS1UbwftnCPNNBBZ8_Rjey1O4KhJtXskb6ipW07qlRPxWQXkRJrZWMtb0fxvO9w/s1600/perfect.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZ3fdxAgb8eTcnBgtaWzChUBh3JuRlJD7YYkGtPevMwovlkc_xuHyzSCY2EbE1ik0UlHibrz1Ud4qSS1UbwftnCPNNBBZ8_Rjey1O4KhJtXskb6ipW07qlRPxWQXkRJrZWMtb0fxvO9w/s1600/perfect.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There are, in my opinion, few things more dangerous
than elevating someone to the mythical state of perfection, only to find out that they
have clay feet like the rest of humanity. I don’t think any relationship can
survive that level of disappointment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I am surrounded by couples – all of my siblings are
married, most of my friends are too. I have seen marriages that look good in
theory, fail; I have seen couples who should, by societal expectation and ‘standards’,
be compatible, and yet are unable to find common ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And then I’ve seen the most unlikely pairings succeed
beyond expectation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCKSfDPmulZsw9QpasIJpwyGdlGJ7soP_B22L6QoIGoduN-0yKatFvD3MB9w-Qoown7xKTWIq2AuRLlzI8b4Rv67zyh19xVNb-tIQjJ4pG7tBfjs-UODx5kmfjkKsF1AIZjupawYFNs8/s1600/other+half.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCKSfDPmulZsw9QpasIJpwyGdlGJ7soP_B22L6QoIGoduN-0yKatFvD3MB9w-Qoown7xKTWIq2AuRLlzI8b4Rv67zyh19xVNb-tIQjJ4pG7tBfjs-UODx5kmfjkKsF1AIZjupawYFNs8/s1600/other+half.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Two very good friends of mine have been married now
for nine years. I was sick with anxiety when they first started dating, because
of certain circumstances and because they were such different people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I was terribly naïve, and for a long time I thought
the one was better than the other one. But as the years went on, I saw two
opposites complement each other in the best way. Despite the challenges that they face as husband and wife, as father and mother, they're happy. And they love each other so much, it is clear for all to see (in a non-sickening kind of way, thank goodness).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I saw them both forgive and cover
the other’s flaws, and support each other in a way that not only strengthened
their union, but made them grow as individuals into the epitome of what should be the foundation of all
relationships:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKlH1ZquQMzh2Ahu8zIwhsjjPka4yo2_k-A7XbfLKf0pxq9ieSicSNUPFqaKYFXSIJnS3vu5qo1W-cKGMD_z7s1T8Y9qzBPL5gJ2DMzYUvcDtIR6OGrIHgafYyZN-e2vLNam0ru82i7w/s1600/already+whole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKlH1ZquQMzh2Ahu8zIwhsjjPka4yo2_k-A7XbfLKf0pxq9ieSicSNUPFqaKYFXSIJnS3vu5qo1W-cKGMD_z7s1T8Y9qzBPL5gJ2DMzYUvcDtIR6OGrIHgafYyZN-e2vLNam0ru82i7w/s1600/already+whole.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The dictionary defines complementary as “combining in such a way as to enhance or emphasize the qualities of each other or another”. I quite like this explanation and it sums up what I’ve seen from successful marriages.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But I think the best partnerships are the ones who are made up of two wholes, instead of two halves.</span></div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-48804699951304290912016-04-15T22:26:00.001+02:002016-04-15T22:26:47.869+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Judgment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">How many times have you judged a person based on an
inopportune first impression or an incorrect assumption? Or for something that
secretly makes you uncomfortable or sheds a fluorescent light on your dark
side? For me, too many times to count. And I’ve often discovered (to my
unending embarrassment) that my judgement had no foundation at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Certain events in my life alerted me to this
terrible quality within myself. One in particular occurred during my first year
at college. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I became very good friends with someone after a
break-up with his girlfriend. Many of our classmates thought we were dating (for
a long while I had hoped his feelings for me would develop in that way) but we
were just two people with similar interests and a similar approach to many
things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We did differ, when it came to academic ability, and
I am, to this day, ashamed to admit that my arrogance over this fact, and my
opinions on some of his more questionable life decisions, caused a rift – which
led to us not speaking to each other for 18 months. We did reconcile
eventually, and are still good friends (he and his wife are like family to me)
but I will never be able to take back the way I made him feel, nor can we ever
get back those 18 months.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">A friend paid me the greatest compliment I could
ever hope for as a writer – she said, in response to a recent post, that what
she loves best about my writing is that it is not judgmental. My initial
reaction to this was one of disbelief, because I know myself to be terribly
judgmental. Another mistaken assumption that many live under is that if I don’t
say things, I don’t judge, but in many cases tone, facial expressions, body
language, actions, and even silence convey judgement more than words ever
could. I have hurt people, and have been hurt by people in this way. And sadly,
it has cost me dearly, in the relationships with people I care about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The second reaction was that of hope – hope that I may
finally be on the path to ridding myself of this destructive habit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Every chapter of my life, whether it was work
related or personal, has brought with it a particular lesson on judgment. One
that has stayed with me (since the Almighty saw it fit to bless me with this
bit of wisdom) is this: no person is too good to sin, and no sinner is beyond
redemption. These words act as my daily reminder that tomorrow, I may be worse
off than the person I judged today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Some food for thought (and comment, if you like):</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuiHUf9b9aZeA-Kq3FtQivAVnZETKMMPHkMexRNQwKOSnUewqT3zuR3XHC_nsaUH52Z-Pc9z1XcVh0TXatWPSsLXzktO0L2o1uDAZfMiY-lE1zNU4Y5cxlS66GVWqzKZIEea5eZjV0JPg/s1600/judgment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuiHUf9b9aZeA-Kq3FtQivAVnZETKMMPHkMexRNQwKOSnUewqT3zuR3XHC_nsaUH52Z-Pc9z1XcVh0TXatWPSsLXzktO0L2o1uDAZfMiY-lE1zNU4Y5cxlS66GVWqzKZIEea5eZjV0JPg/s320/judgment.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-11571784343380903562016-03-26T08:59:00.000+02:002016-03-26T08:59:54.599+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Lies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some may find this odd (or disturbing) but I do not
trust a person who claims to be 100% truthful all the time (that is the biggest
lie of all). We lie to deceive, we lie to impress, we lie to protect –
ourselves and others. Some lies are harmless enough – when you tell a
three-year old that their drawings are beautiful, your lie gives them
confidence – and when, as in this case, the lie is used for unselfish reasons
and harms no one, I can live with it. Most lies though, are dangerous,
especially when they are borne from selfishness (as most lies are).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But the most dangerous…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCCX2z0suLJPi5g27Px99BvVlsl0emBbP1_yNwnkuw9t1ZMNe5o-NRLaxqtQpZcXbbN7mm8d93irNqjKKJ7Ja0TjgZFggBJ6F34joOTjFrY5B_egcmNHObpum17e3iXunu5mAHdDEpJBY/s1600/self+deception.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCCX2z0suLJPi5g27Px99BvVlsl0emBbP1_yNwnkuw9t1ZMNe5o-NRLaxqtQpZcXbbN7mm8d93irNqjKKJ7Ja0TjgZFggBJ6F34joOTjFrY5B_egcmNHObpum17e3iXunu5mAHdDEpJBY/s1600/self+deception.jpg" /></a></div>
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</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The people we lie to the
most are ourselves.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As humans, we all have opinions about each other,
and it is a very human trait to want to be in control of what others think of
us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I read a post by a young author today, and he said
something in particular reference to writers, but it is the paradox that applies
to everyone: we all yearn to belong, and to be accepted, but we also want to
stand out and be unique. And we end up lying to others and to ourselves to try
and fulfil these needs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But we are only in control of what we think of
ourselves, of what resides between our ears and within our chests. And it may
sound simple and easy, but the hardest thing a person can ever do, is to throw
off the many layers of self-deception and stand, naked, in front of the
proverbial mirror.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbjMp_ruow8bGOj0qJ3A9GilNWHFaN2QAgMkMps6DudX5Udq2SoD1Tt1q6k7bKaPk03DnFSy3QWWmICBYXUwOBs9mh0WGvS7kF9twB4hTdcoibDH_JAgrpOyGVwbwMQ1dOPKE9SUkYaA/s1600/stop-lying-to-yourself-when-we-deny-our-own-truth-we-deny-our-own-potential.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbjMp_ruow8bGOj0qJ3A9GilNWHFaN2QAgMkMps6DudX5Udq2SoD1Tt1q6k7bKaPk03DnFSy3QWWmICBYXUwOBs9mh0WGvS7kF9twB4hTdcoibDH_JAgrpOyGVwbwMQ1dOPKE9SUkYaA/s320/stop-lying-to-yourself-when-we-deny-our-own-truth-we-deny-our-own-potential.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve had to own up to a few
lies I’ve told myself, about myself, about my life and the people in it. I’ve
had to realise that these lies have had a very adverse effect on my personal
growth and interpersonal relationships.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It takes more strength to show your vulnerability
than to hide it. Loyalty is not a given with family. Being strong does not mean
never asking for help. Friendships and relationships that are one-sided rarely
cease to be so. I am never going to be skinny (I will always be curvy and soft,
and that’s just another form of beauty).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Once I found the courage to admit certain truths, I opened
myself up to a much better quality of life…I’ve weeded out the parasites in my
life and transferred that energy into nurturing the people, thoughts and things
that are good for me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Don’t get me wrong – I still tell myself untruths
(or rather, I still cannot admit certain truths to myself) – I am human, and
very imperfect. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I
am on a journey though, standing in front of the mirror, peeling back one layer
at a time. And with each piece of self-deception I manage to discard, I continue to discover new depths to
my potential.</span></span></div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-80326268687341093912016-03-21T22:46:00.004+02:002016-03-21T22:52:07.260+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Headphones<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I really miss commuting on the bus. I’ve been
driving for about a year now. The last three months though has put me off
driving completely – I feel like I spend more time in my car than anywhere
else, my travelling expenses have increased quite a bit, I’m becoming lax with
managing a time schedule, and the fact that I have to think for stupid drivers
on the road stresses me out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My
mornings used to be so calm and chilled. I’d wake up, pray, dress and leave
home while it was still dark (particularly in winter). I live in a very
beautiful city, in one of the more beautiful parts of the city, and my trip to
work used to start off with a 20 minute walk to the bus station. It’s the part
of the day I miss the most – just popping in my headphones as I leave my house.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0MCaiXW3Ayri2P7Y-x08TKdA0Fz_6o0O1fxIXbXTFqcZye4OIFMc8X1WccD8lIJmQBjrrfLXp0uVWmbybKDpgQS-fRQ1aIfiB99DKbL7bc-MiANrKkv45khk4zMMOEPcSpq3RL2oRzc/s1600/music-is-the-soundtrack-of-your-life-403x403-nk4s39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0MCaiXW3Ayri2P7Y-x08TKdA0Fz_6o0O1fxIXbXTFqcZye4OIFMc8X1WccD8lIJmQBjrrfLXp0uVWmbybKDpgQS-fRQ1aIfiB99DKbL7bc-MiANrKkv45khk4zMMOEPcSpq3RL2oRzc/s200/music-is-the-soundtrack-of-your-life-403x403-nk4s39.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify;">A colleague of mine starts her day with
affirmations. She pastes them on her mirror and recites them to herself every
morning. Music was my affirmation. I had a playlist that I listened to every
morning on my way to work. Some songs were funny, some very sexy, some inspired
confidence. It ensured that I left home feeling great about myself and walked
into my office smiling every morning.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RyUfBgqxZd0znNqkiR7q2ehmWiWZwKMwLJ1p1Ey6X_84NhOVZ3gzMJQitYJFe2MbijVZUbvxLWrYipSPS-DpuMTT0yc-Bu_TO285CIZhSLGuEcvoErLEc1Ow5Wdq_7Q9OvvXFgF04sA/s1600/my-playlist-can-tell-you-the-story-of-my-life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RyUfBgqxZd0znNqkiR7q2ehmWiWZwKMwLJ1p1Ey6X_84NhOVZ3gzMJQitYJFe2MbijVZUbvxLWrYipSPS-DpuMTT0yc-Bu_TO285CIZhSLGuEcvoErLEc1Ow5Wdq_7Q9OvvXFgF04sA/s320/my-playlist-can-tell-you-the-story-of-my-life.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; text-align: left;">My playlist
has been transferred to my car stereo, and yet, it does not have quite the same
effect. I pop my headphones in when I clean, when I exercise…and even with
these activities, it’s not the same when there are no headphones involved.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMfZNGh3_9O2R-MbF8apRH21JgfXhhShyADlFf_Hgublmny-BTYiQnndFEId5W1rGeszX47iPSMrYDsaQhyphenhyphenTcAQN882QSB5pn3-i1JAWDvHk51dpDihuJRf_PAUb8NSRiR2H-lgr_6UjY/s1600/world+off.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMfZNGh3_9O2R-MbF8apRH21JgfXhhShyADlFf_Hgublmny-BTYiQnndFEId5W1rGeszX47iPSMrYDsaQhyphenhyphenTcAQN882QSB5pn3-i1JAWDvHk51dpDihuJRf_PAUb8NSRiR2H-lgr_6UjY/s1600/world+off.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My
theory: when you plug them into your ears, you not only amplify the sound but
you also block out the rest of the world – distractions, disappointments, discouragement,
they are all drowned out by the beat in your ears, the lyrics that touch your
soul, that give you confidence, make you laugh, give you energy, give you
inspiration…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, when I need to get through cleaning my car, forty minutes on the treadmill, or when I just need a pick me up or a break from life, I pop those little black buds in and get lost in the chosen soundtrack of my life.</span></span></div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-22625449380615646502016-03-17T23:01:00.001+02:002016-03-17T23:03:20.289+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Comment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">“Opinions are like arse-holes – everyone has one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">This expression never fails to make me laugh, and confirms the adage that many truths are spoken in jest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Two very good friends of mine are writers too, and
there is one particular point on which I differ with them – and that is on the
subject of comment. I am always glad when someone shows me how I may improve on
my expression – the two of them, however, feel like the critic is launching a
personal attack on their ideals (one of them guards her words like she guards
her children).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The one thing that I miss about my writing class is
the critiques my lecturer gave on our pieces (yes, I’m odd like that). I will
never forget, one of my class mates was ready to strangle the lecturer after we
received our first assignment back, and I was quite happy for her to tell me
what I might do to improve my writing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Whether their chosen genre is fiction or
non-fiction, realistic or fantastic, every writer hopes for one thing: and that
is to inspire a reaction in the reader.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">When I started this blog, almost five years ago now,
my intention was for it to be a way for me to share my innermost thoughts with
the world, in the hopes that the experiences of my life might inspire someone,
somewhere. My writing has expanded somewhat in the last few years, and the most
significant change has been where I draw my inspiration from. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Writers discover new things about themselves all the
time, constantly evolving and growing with each new piece.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">THANK YOU, for those who do take the time to comment
honestly. Most of the time, it is a learning experience for me. I do not expect
everyone to agree with my opinions, nor do I expect everyone to like my writing
style or topics. But, a criticism or disagreement is still a comment. A comment
is a reaction, even if it is a bad one. And sometimes lessons are best learnt
from our failures or mistakes or differences of opinion, than from our triumphs
– this is how we grow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">So, it really disheartens me when no one comments on
what I write. My best friend always tells me that comments are not always a
good thing, or necessary – but to me it is. We are all students of life, and
the people we meet, and inspire, and who inspire us – they contribute to our
life-long learning. For me personally, comments from my readers contribute greatly
to my growth as a writer – positive comments give me confidence, negative
comments keep me grounded, and different opinions educate me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I
will admit, I am disappointed at not having been able to inspire many reactions
thus far. But, I will keep at it, and explore other areas outside of my writing
comfort zone, until I do.</span></span></div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-87079397697783528252016-03-12T13:09:00.000+02:002016-03-12T13:10:15.075+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Accountability<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A few weeks ago, I had to leave work early to fetch
my mother from the airport (she was coming home from a two-week trip overseas).
My father was busy organising his life, as he was leaving for his trip a few
days later, and my workplace is literally a ten minute drive from the airport.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In my haste to get to there on time, I bumped
into a colleague’s car. I am not one to shirk responsibility, and so I called
her out of her classroom to tell her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was barely driving, and all the damage my own car
sustained was a paint scratch. Her fender, however, sustained a definite dent.
Thankfully though, no other damage was done (by me, at any rate), and would be
quick to fix. She, however, lost her shit completely (and while I understand
her upset, I think the reaction was out of proportion to the offence). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I also offered to pay to fix what I damaged, even though
she was illegally parked behind me (not in a parking bay).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve tried to live my life by one fundamental rule,
and that is to take responsibility for my actions. In this case though, it
seems to be biting me in the ass, because this woman is dragging this process
out and trying to extort me. It was an accident, and somehow she’s made
me feel like I rammed into her car on purpose. I even contacted a mechanic to
come out and assess the damage – who agreed to fix her car at a reasonable cost
to me and at her convenience – and she responded by ignoring my messages,
ignoring me at school and sending me obscene quotes for damages I was not
responsible for.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve been dealing with so many other difficult
things, and her reaction just pushed my already high stress levels into
unmanageable territory (this is probably why my hair is still falling out and
why I can’t sleep).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This
episode won’t make me break my rule though. There is a saying that says bad
things happen to keep worse things away from you. I’ve been keeping that in
mind, and in addition to living with a sense of accountability, I will also
endeavour to be vigilant of those who will try to exploit it.</span></span></div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-74098042542804841632016-03-11T22:17:00.000+02:002016-03-14T22:49:11.546+02:00A-Z Blogger Challenge 2016 - Death<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I rather enjoyed participating in the A-Z
challenge of last year, and decided that I would try and do one every year (for
as long as the Almighty spares me, and preserves my mind and ability to write).
However, I’ve decided to go about it in a different manner – instead of posting
everything within a month and alphabetically, I will post a few a week, according
to the themes present at the time…here we go...<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I’ve lost two really good people so far this year. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The first was the Grandmother of one of my best
friends. This lady treated me as one of her own, even though I didn’t see her
much. I was always greeted with, “How are you, my child?” and she always
inquired (kindly) whether I had an <i>outjie</i>
(Afrikaans for 'boyfriend' - and was always lamenting on how stupid men were not to snatch me up). She was a strong woman, very feisty, but she was always proud of
our achievements and of the kind of people we were. You always felt good about
yourself when you were in her company, and I received more love, warmth and
encouragement from her in the thirteen years I’ve known her, than I ever have
from my own grandmother, whom I’ve known my whole life. My only regret is that
I did not get to visit her while she was ill. Thankfully, I made it to her
funeral and got to say my goodbye, and was able to be there for my friend and
her family, even though it may have been only emotional and moral support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The second person was my cousin. She was in her late
sixties, only a few years younger than my mother (her mother is one of my
mother’s older sisters), and lost a very short battle against terminal lung
cancer. She is in almost every happy memory I have – she has been there for all
of my siblings’ weddings (she was like a second mother to us), she helped
everyone who needed it, even when she barely had enough for herself. She was
very candid, stubborn, and sometimes a bit abrasive, but her heart was so big,
and had room for everyone. She was always up for a laugh (had a droll sense of
humour), but she was very principled and never condoned or covered up for
injustice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">She went down fast during the last four weeks, and I
think she held on just to see her baby get married a week and a half ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The past month, despite all of the difficulty, was
amazing. We were all able to help her and her children make a wedding happen. When
we went to visit her a few days ago, she could barely talk, and when I greeted
her, she was half asleep. We sat at her bedside for a few minutes, reciting prayers,
as she drifted in and out of consciousness, and during one of her lucid
moments, she heard my voice. Even in her weakened, pained state, she turned and
murmured my name with a smile. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We helped where we could...and were able to be there for her as she always was for us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Through her illness, her son’s wedding and her
funeral, she managed to bring together our family. Family we have not seen or
spoken to years. She made us re-evaluate our priorities, made us realise the stupidity
of holding onto grudges and the importance of family, and brought out the best
in us all. Her illness, and even her death, bonded our family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify;">Death is never easy, especially for those the
deceased leave behind. But although I am sad at the loss of these two amazing
ladies, I am grateful for what they have brought to my life and for the
legacies they left me with...and the many lessons I've learnt from their deaths....</span></div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-44303993587732560262016-02-11T12:40:00.001+02:002016-02-11T12:40:37.469+02:00Innerstanding<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Innerstanding". A word much more appropriate, I think, than 'understanding' when it comes to oneself.<br />
A word coined by a very intelligent lady, and stolen by another for the title of this poem...<br />
<br />
<a href="https://inkyimpressions.wordpress.com/2016/02/09/innerstanding/" target="_blank">https://inkyimpressions.wordpress.com/2016/02/09/innerstanding/</a></div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-22519617871284337212016-01-27T15:58:00.001+02:002016-01-27T15:58:38.338+02:00Move along little boy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
2016 has been a good year so far. Work has been busy but good, there is peace in my home, I am not hungry or cold. I am extremely grateful for all my blessings.<br />
But today I am going to bitch about little boys who refuse to grow up. A very juvenile individual managed to annoy the hell out of me yesterday.<br />
<br />
I met this guy for the first time two years ago, and I thought he was nice - quiet, lovely manners, kinda good-looking, educated and working. I liked him, and could've seen myself married to a guy like him. Then I got to know him, and discovered that he was a little boy who spoke in grammatically incorrect riddles, liked attention and only sought me out when he was between girlfriends or having trouble with one of them. The attraction died a swift death after that.<br />
<br />
I dedicate my ravings today to all you single gents out there (or gents, period) who have the good fortune to stumble upon this post:<br />
<br />
Females are complicated beings. Which is why we are attracted to MEN who are straightforward and uncomplicated. Here are some things you should heed...<br />
<br />
1. If you like a woman, tell her. If not, leave her alone. Don't bullshit her into confusion and then throw a tantrum when she doesn't give you the attention you want.<br />
2. If there is a special woman in your life, don't sweet talk others. They also have feelings. Women were not put on this earth to boost your ego.<br />
3. If a lady says no, it means NO. It is not code for "try harder".<br />
4. Some ladies come with different circumstances, which might make it more difficult for you to "woo" her. If you really like her, you will find a way that works for her. If you don't think she's worth the effort, fine. Move on. Don't blame her for being difficult. There are plenty of fish in the sea.<br />
5. If you have realised a lady's worth too late and she is no longer available (physically or emotionally), don't blame her. It's not her fault that you overslept.<br />
6. If you have fucked up, have the balls to admit it. And if the lady has moved on, have the grace to let her do so peacefully.<br />
<br />
If you disagree with the above, or have had different experiences, chances are that they were with girls. Boys attract girls.<br />
<br />
MEN attract WOMEN.</div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-53861981338934169432015-10-24T17:32:00.002+02:002015-10-24T17:32:38.268+02:00Distraction or Source of Happiness?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Life is a journey. If I reflect upon my own journey so far, I've come to realise that I used to be very focused on a destination (or rather, lack thereof). So much so that I have not always appreciated the scenery along the way, nor some of the more profound experiences I've had. I have not always been able to see the lessons from whatever trial I may have faced, even worse, I have not always dealt with my trials in an effective way.<br />
<br />
I would like to think though, that as I've gotten older and had a little more life experience under my belt, that I have been trying to change the way I approach and deal with difficulty. As I've said before, I am human, and therefore do not always succeed in this endeavour. But after a set-back, I pick myself up and carry on,<br />
<br />
One thing in particular, which I've discovered works very well for me, is trying to focus on what makes me happy. Seems simple enough, right?<br />
Wrong.<br />
As it turns out, it took me quite a while to figure out that a lot of the things I thought made me happy were simply <i>distractions</i>. It took quite a bit of introspection, asking some hard questions of myself, before I could give even part of an answer to the question, "What makes me happy?"<br />
I think as we go on, as we experience more, as people enter into and exit from our lives, as the world changes, as <i>we</i> change, so too will this answer.<br />
<br />
This has been my thought for the last few weeks - an essential step in navigating the storms of one's life is being able to figure out and know what makes one truly happy, And for us to be able to take this step, we should always be aware of and accepting of the truth, that as we evolve, so too will our sources of true happiness.</div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-54138221947604299092015-10-24T14:37:00.000+02:002015-10-24T14:37:15.377+02:00Indifference<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's been two months since I've posted anything on my blog. And goodness knows, so much has happened in that time, that I should have enough material to bitch about for a solid year.<br />
<br />
It's been an emotional roller coaster for me. Ever since I allowed myself to unlock my emotional side it's been as though I cannot not react to any kind of emotional stimuli - so much so that any feelings that I may have considered trivial or inconsequential in the past now feel amplified.<br />
<br />
I was leaning towards a very direction before I started writing this post. Despite the extreme highs and lows over the last two months, I have been dealing with it much better than I would have in the past, and I feel the need to share it. Which I will do at a later stage. But then I read the latest post off a friend's blog, and it spoke to something very close to my heart.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><a href="https://thepeacockdiary.wordpress.com/2015/09/01/the-problems-with-love/">"The indifferent person tends to have a neutral very amicable personality. Never ruffle feathers always pleasant because either …or…it doesn’t matter. People on the outside will see this person as calm and well-balanced. But they are seemingly well-balanced because all the hard decisions are made by the other person…the one that seems to be losing their shit for no reason at all."</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am in a very difficult emotional situation right now with a person I am very close to. This person occupies a very big space in my heart and has been going through so much in their own life (as have I, but really it's nothing compared to theirs), and I think our respective difficulties has placed a strain on our friendship. </span><br />
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I have been told in the past (by family and others) that I am tactless and reactionary, and for a while I have been trying to be the opposite. I am fully aware that I have the ability to hurt people with the things that I say and sometimes the way that I say them. I am a very big advocate now, for trying to be balanced and calm, even in the face of extreme difficulty. Realistically, yes, it is not always possible. We are human, and therefore imperfect, We are going to react (sometimes really badly). We will err more often than we'd like to. And that's okay. But we should continue trying to be and do better.<br />
<br />
However, reading the post that the above quote comes from has made me ask myself: Is my attempt at being tactful and level-headed making things worse? Am I coming across as indifferent?<br />
<br /></div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-47784376649279349572015-08-05T15:28:00.001+02:002015-08-05T15:28:12.546+02:00Dangerous Minds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Our school is having a concert to commemorate and celebrate its forty year existence. For the past three months, I've worked to children's clapping, stomping and singing...and my office colleague and I find ourselves singing along to the music, even when we're not in school.<br />
One of the acts is done to Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise". You're probably thinking what a morbid song to have kids perform to, but it is something that more than half of our kids have to deal with in their areas. It also happens to be the theme song of one of my favourite movies.<br />
<br />
I think I became a teacher because of Dangerous Minds (for those living under a rock or born post 2000, it is a movie that centers around a new teacher who makes a big difference in the lives of a class of students). I was lying in front of the TV the other day and it was playing on one of the movie channels, and I don't know whether it was just pms or whatever, but I cried at the part where Louanne Johnson's students persuade her to stay at their school because she was their 'light'.<br />
<br />
I find myself in a similar situation as Michelle Pfeiffer's character right now, as I have made the decision to leave my school at the end of the year. I haven't been in a classroom for the last year and a half, but I've still managed to foster relationships with the students. So many of them though come from really difficult home situations and live in the ghettos of Cape Town. They're exposed to violence, drugs, abuse...much like the children in Ms Johnson's class (except that these kids are small and it's about more than half of the school).<br />
I'm not going to lie - some of these kids bug the hell out of me, especially the ones with attitudes and no manners. But more often than not, they have this ability to steal my heart.<br />
<br />
Through my interactions, I've tried to instill manners and discipline in them (which I feel is very important), but I've also tried to nurture them - whether it was by co-ordinating students to write for the annual school magazine or fortnightly newsletter, playing netball with the senior team to help get them match fit, nursing their scrapes when they come to the office, or stopping to receive their hugs in the corridors.<br />
<br />
I have my reasons for leaving. I have to start living <b><i>my</i></b> life, and doing things that make <b><i>me</i></b> happy. Change is as good as a holiday they say, but it is very scary. I am, however, more confident in my ability to navigate the unknown, and I am very happy to be leaving many of my colleagues behind.<br />
<br />
But if I'm honest, I'm not looking forward to the sadness I know I will feel the day I have to say good-bye to my children.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-10904394129348106362015-08-04T13:50:00.000+02:002015-08-04T13:50:44.958+02:00Brave<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
You can be amazing<br />
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug<br />
You can be the outcast<br />
Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love<br />
Or you can start speaking up<br />
<br />
Nothing's gonna hurt you the way that words do<br />
When they settle 'neath your skin<br />
Kept on the inside and no sunlight<br />
Sometimes a shadow wins<br />
But I wonder what would happen if you<br />
<br />
Say what you wanna say<br />
And let the words fall out<br />
Honestly I wanna see you be brave<br />
With what you want to say<br />
And let the words fall out<br />
Honestly I wanna see you be brave<br />
<br />
I just wanna see you<br />
I just wanna see you<br />
I just wanna see you<br />
I wanna see you be brave<br />
<br />
Everybody's been there,<br />
Everybody's been stared down by the enemy<br />
Fallen for the fear<br />
And done some disappearing,<br />
Bow down to the mighty<br />
Don't run, just stop holding your tongue<br />
<br />
Maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live<br />
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in<br />
Show me how big your brave is<br />
<br />
Say what you wanna say<br />
And let the words fall out<br />
Honestly I wanna see you be brave<br />
With what you want to say<br />
And let the words fall out<br />
Honestly I wanna see you be brave<br />
<br />
And since your history of silence<br />
Won't do you any good,<br />
Did you think it would?<br />
Let your words be anything but empty<br />
Why don't you tell them the truth?<br />
<br />
Say what you wanna say<br />
And let the words fall out<br />
Honestly I wanna see you be brave<br />
With what you want to say<br />
And let the words fall out<br />
Honestly I wanna see you be brave<br />
<br />
I just wanna see you<br />
I just wanna see you<br />
I just wanna see you<br />
I wanna see you be brave<br />
<br /></div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-18269204396241599892015-07-23T09:22:00.002+02:002015-07-23T09:22:19.222+02:00Tradition<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We celebrated Eid in Cape Town four days ago. For you who may not know what Eid is, it is an Islamic religious holiday celebrated twice in the lunar year - the first is celebrated the day after the fasting month is completed (the one we've just celebrated), and the second one is celebrated on the tenth day of the twelfth lunar month, which corresponds with the third day of pilgrimage.<br />
It can be likened to Christmas or Hanukkah - a day for families and friends to get together - but what makes Eid unique is that each one has a specific significance attached to it: the first one is the Eid of charity, and the second the Eid of sacrifice.<br />
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Muslims around the globe celebrate this day in many different ways, and along with the specific religious duties and customs that have to be performed, every family has their own unique customs and traditions that surround it. In my family, my mother buys gifts for all of her grandchildren, makes her own corned beef and home-made baked bread (which I have taken over, since she sustained a shoulder injury), makes meat pies and cooks a pot of biryani; My eldest sister-in-law makes her version of fried chicken (which is better than KFC, in my opinion); one of my older sisters makes a roast leg of lamb (or two - we're a big family) with all the trimmings; my baby sis and I bake biscuits and cakes; and the rest of my siblings will see to puddings and desserts. New clothes are bought and homes get a spring cleaning (regardless of the season).</div>
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Our home is the central meeting place for all my siblings and their children, and for a few extended family members, and for the last thirty four years, Eid lunch has always been under my mother's roof.</div>
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When I was younger (and lazier) I complained a lot - about the amount of people in our home on that day, of all the preparation that we had to do, of nieces, nephews and small cousins invading my personal space, operation clean-up afterward. I argued a lot with my mother and older sister because I didn't understand why things had to be done a certain way and when I became older and 'wiser', I became even more impatient with some of the customs that I felt were unnecessary and extravagant.<br />
<br />
This year, due to miscommunication and stubbornness, we were almost forced to break with our thirty year tradition...and it felt like there was a death in the family. My mother was completely distraught at the mere possibility of abandoning the tradition of having all of her children congregate under her roof for Eid. I kept my opinions to myself and waited to hear what the elders had decided, but overheard my mother say to one of my sisters that she wants us to carry these traditions on if she is no longer with us one day, and that she hopes that we will remember her and continue to pray for her.<br />
We stuck to our usual plan, but because of the conflict of the preceding few days, the day was dampened somewhat.<br />
<br />
It was the first time I actually stopped to think about what makes people cling for dear life to their traditions. I can only really answer for myself, and from what I witnessed and felt last week, it boils down to three things: immortality, human connection and the happiness one feels at the remembrance of fond memories.<br />
<br />
I have lost some people in my life, but I remember them through the little traditions they were a part of throughout my life. My late uncle and aunt had supper at our house at least once a week, and I can still hear her laugh and I still clean the lids of the sauce bottles like he used to do. Whenever I hear the song, "Pump up the jam" it makes me think of my late brother, and his ridiculous dance moves. Tin Roof ice-cream reminds me of my father's late wife, because she always made sure there was a tub in the freezer whenever I came to visit her.<br />
<br />
These people may be gone, but they are very much alive in my heart.<br />
<br />
We do not live forever, but every person wants to be remembered after they leave this world, and I suppose traditions are the one thing which helps us to leave our mark in this life.<br />
<br /></div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-6955036363939973462015-07-03T21:21:00.003+02:002015-07-03T21:21:45.375+02:00Photo Blog Challenge: Day 5 - Convention (is overrated)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEms9Cz25Zlo_9CeZE3n4EmKepIjsdG6QdQNhyP4GbDM5TYTL7ssKRkuEUpg_XdrygjwlXcijFs1jTgSHd6B67GFONIXQOZeTjWgkjqbdD-cq_a4sDZ7etWUxB5ds1QvggE7kQ7gBVtQ/s1600/Day+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEms9Cz25Zlo_9CeZE3n4EmKepIjsdG6QdQNhyP4GbDM5TYTL7ssKRkuEUpg_XdrygjwlXcijFs1jTgSHd6B67GFONIXQOZeTjWgkjqbdD-cq_a4sDZ7etWUxB5ds1QvggE7kQ7gBVtQ/s400/Day+4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Weddings can become such a spectacle sometimes.<br />
I become quite disheartened when people stress excessively about the actual wedding day, that they forget about the lifetime of hard work after - who's going to be in the wedding, what are they going to wear, it must all be uniform, blah-blah-blah. Then you get those overbearing aunts and cousins who are under the illusion that they have a say and like contribute their two cents, even though it isn't wanted or needed, and the poor bride capitulates so as not to offend or cause huge rifts in the family. On the flip side, you get brides that don't give a rat's ass about anyone but herself, and alienates people who have been there for her, her whole life.<br />
<br />
One thing in particular that really upsets me, particularly with Muslim marriages, is how the brides forget the boundaries of our religion when it comes to their wedding. I was really appalled at one of my cousins when she got married, because her dress was so transparent, she may as well have been naked. You have just bound yourself to one man, and every other male attending your wedding reception is treated to what should be for your husband's eyes only.<br />
<br />
My baby sister was married eighteen months ago. She prides herself on being unconventional, and I daresay, certain aspects of her big day were quite so. I was really proud of the decisions she made with regards to her wedding.<br />
<br />
The image above was taken in one of our local botanical gardens, and the only specification she gave to the photographer on that day was that she wanted to have 'sneaker' pics.<br />
<br />
We are part Indian, and those of you who have attended one will know it can be quite an extravagant affair. The week before the actual wedding day is crammed with smaller functions and get-togethers. She chose to forgo all of that.<br />
<br />
Her dress was beautiful - it covered her completely, and instead of having her hair done up with a tiara and veil, she wore it completely covered, simply draping her headscarf in a more formal way. She also said "To hell with fashion, I want to be comfortable" and wore flat satin pumps, instead of six inch heels.<br />
<br />
Her bridal party consisted of eight of our family's grandchildren - five of our nieces and three of our nephews. Instead of spending obscene amounts of money on custom made ensembles that they would wear for only one day, she allowed the four bridesmaids (of which three towers over her) to select their own dress, in a colour of their liking, so that they could wear it again, and asked them all to accessorize with silver (scarves, bolero jackets, shoes and jewelry).<br />
She didn't hire a stylist, a make-up artist or fancy cars, and she designed her own wedding dress.<br />
<br />
Her unusual wedding was the most relaxed and most enjoyable one our family has experienced in a long time.<br />
Convention is definitely overrated.</div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-78722802509820481672015-07-02T22:13:00.002+02:002015-07-02T22:14:39.984+02:00Photo Blog Challenge: Day 4 - Turning Point<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
My job description has changed almost every year since I've been employed at my present school.<br />
In 2010 (the year I started) I was employed to assist the school librarian, to help with remedial mathematics and to assist the two school secretaries with menial things like filing and duplication. Since then I have taught EMS (Economic and Management Sciences), History, Geography and Art, and for the last two and a half years, I've been doing financial administration.<br />
<br />
The most difficult thing I've had to do these past five and a half years was teach Art. I don't have an artistic bone in my body. I can't draw for shit, I don't paint really well, I cannot build or construct things. The extent of my artistic talent ends in organising an office space.<br />
I was asked to teach this subject because the usual teacher had taken early retirement, and this woman did not leave a single lesson plan or guideline for me to follow. So, Google became my best friend and I spent that year researching things to do in a Grade 4 Art class.<br />
<br />
To my unending surprise, my children responded well to the things I asked them to do. As I had a room specifically designated for me to use, I could display their offerings (as you can see in the middle picture above - that room was my solace and joy). That specific year was a turning point for me as professional.<br />
<br />
Since then, I have had to face some weird challenges at work, many times involving things I had no experience of or training for. And thankfully, I have managed to handle myself (and in some cases, managed to avert or overcome catastrophes).<br />
<br />
I am on the cusp of leaving my present job in pursuit of a completely different career path. I do not have a 100% solid plan yet, and yes, I am scared of the change. But I'm not scared enough to back out of my decision.<br />
<br />
I had always been afraid to make a mistake at work. I had little to no faith in my abilities to fix my mistakes or in my ability to learn from them. It took a fourth grade Art class and two years of psycho-therapy for me to realize that I was holding myself back.<br />
<br />
So, I may not know exactly which direction I am going to be turning to. I do know, that which ever way it is, I WILL hit the ground running.</div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-2813240969668724742015-07-01T22:34:00.000+02:002015-07-22T15:10:16.883+02:00Photo Blog Challenge: Day 3 - Miracle/Blessing/Inspiration<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZIQDYqwaJu8taHYsByaH61w1lMUDfdOREFOY5tGT4Pl1PqLVzgGLyH9Ju0PAQRkznD1zbG2ttma2H4fYV7JjOUyIjGsgd2dIcG_pSfZfBcdniQsjheu5DlmBt6EDksoi_JSEK8BlaA4/s1600/in+Haram+for+the+first+time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZIQDYqwaJu8taHYsByaH61w1lMUDfdOREFOY5tGT4Pl1PqLVzgGLyH9Ju0PAQRkznD1zbG2ttma2H4fYV7JjOUyIjGsgd2dIcG_pSfZfBcdniQsjheu5DlmBt6EDksoi_JSEK8BlaA4/s400/in+Haram+for+the+first+time.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Ten years ago, one of my nephews entered this world with less than a 5% chance of survival. He emerged from his mother's womb and went straight onto an oxygen tank and into an incubator. In addition to not being able to breathe on his own, the doctors discovered a suspended liver, two holes in his diaphragm and a hole in his heart. My brother and his wife were told to expect the worst.<br />
<br />
The procedure that he needed to have performed to fix the holes in his diaphragm had a very low success rate. Thankfully, he made it through, but we were told that his heart surgery would have to wait until he was a certain age and weight. I remember the day we fetched him from the hospital to come home for the first time. He was about 4 months old, and I remember my mother telling us that the doctors said he was too stubborn to die.<br />
<br />
He had a long and arduous seven years, of doctors' visits, continually deferred theatre dates, stunted physical development and trying to reach the insurmountable mass of 15 kilograms.<br />
<br />
In 2012, my brother arranged a trip to Saudi Arabia for his wife and their four sons, as we had finally gotten a solid date for his surgery. My mother and I went along, and it was by far, the best journey I had ever undertaken.<br />
<br />
My photo today is of our miracle/blessing/inspiration and his mother, walking on the grounds of the mosque in Medina. We were very worried about how taxing flying would be on the his health, but he amazed us all from the very first day.<br />
All of us got sick at some point. He did not even get as much as a sniffle.<br />
At home, it was a constant struggle to get him to eat. He was the only person who ate every airline meal, and had the appetite of a grown man for the duration of this trip.<br />
One of the rituals of pilgrimage is to walk seven times between two hills - the total distance is approximately 2.1 kilometers. Adults are spent at the end of it. He walked it all by himself, and even 'ran' some of his laps.<br />
<br />
As had become normal for him, he breezed through his adversity against some pretty hectic odds, and survived his heart surgery, (hopefully) his last major medical procedure. His health improves daily, and he is a mischievous, humorous, intelligent little boy.<br />
<br />
It is human nature to complain and become despondent at all of the things in our lives that go off-script. However terrible his ordeal was for him and for the family, it has taught me not to wallow in failure or disappointment. It has shown me miracles. It has shown me my many blessings.<br />
<br />
And he will continue to be my biggest inspiration.</div>
Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1405888452800824701.post-20566981178248231772015-06-30T22:06:00.000+02:002015-06-30T22:11:02.306+02:00Photo Blog Challenge: Day 2 - Solidarity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3AiQPyW0WoFJsghqdhIpvpQHlAh4d365ndlAwS9S5aV7aB88tzXVsTX6FOFat-GSOQnISxQnsSLmRtnWLJItByKGZiujrQsOH_UjfzEzpktb7-od3No-Ql4CPdTlnWjV2VwFPaGab2pE/s1600/closed+minded.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3AiQPyW0WoFJsghqdhIpvpQHlAh4d365ndlAwS9S5aV7aB88tzXVsTX6FOFat-GSOQnISxQnsSLmRtnWLJItByKGZiujrQsOH_UjfzEzpktb7-od3No-Ql4CPdTlnWjV2VwFPaGab2pE/s200/closed+minded.jpg" width="169" /></a></div>
I am very bad at keeping up with current events. I have no interest in politics, and my home life is so busy, my family takes up a lot of my head space.<br />
A few days ago though, I came across the following article online: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><u><a href="http://www.jpost.com/Diaspora/Extremists-threaten-to-burn-Talmud-rip-apart-Israeli-flag-at-London-march-in-Jewish-neighborhood-406435">http://www.jpost.com/Diaspora/Extremists-threaten-to-burn-Talmud-rip-apart-Israeli-flag-at-London-march-in-Jewish-neighborhood-406435</a></u></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
In it, the spearhead of this initiative said that this "would mark solidarity with those being oppressed by the illegal state of Israel". I read up some more on this fellow, and the more I read, the more I wanted to scream this statement at him.</div>
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<br />
If by some chance, he or one of his followers read this, I'd like to say this:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #990000;">Solidarity means unity or agreement of feeling or action, especially among individuals with a common interest; mutual support within a group. </span><br />
<br />
I do not support Israel at all. I feel that they are at present the prime human rights abusers, and that the world is letting them get away with serious criminal activity. What do I do to show solidarity? Support organisations who provide aid to those oppressed. Boycott organisations who provide aid to the oppressors.<br />
<br />
I am NOT going to paint every other Jew in the world with the same brush. I am NOT going to petition to have them thrown out of their residential areas NOR burn their religious texts.<br />
This is NOT a form of solidarity. All it will do is show that I am as intolerant as they are.<br />
<br />
A lesson we can all take from this: do not mask your own agenda behind the (serious) plight of others. God does not sleep and karma is a real thing...</div>
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Cherryblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02396847333402114472noreply@blogger.com0