Agile

It’s in in the business world today_ to be agile. Especially in IT. They have agile consultants functioning as coaches, managers, facilitators, and everything you can think of. I should know, I am married to one. Mind you I have yet to see his agile side and managing capacity at home. His facilitating techniques and coaching methods think it is still early days. He must be good. They will not pay him a lot of money if he isn’t, will they? Maybe it’s me. I can’t follow conform or be govern. Unless I see that the methods are working and the leader is worth following. So far, I’m still waiting for some signs. I wonder how much more time must I wait. My time and patience are running out… 

Risky-Business

Study

…people.

You will learn a lot by absorbing and observing.

…nature.

It’s essential. It’s life.

…places.

It will come in handy sometimes.

…history.

It will help you to understand.

… art.

…music.

…culture.

It will add value to your existence. Broaden your horizon and enhance your perspective. 

…yourself.

It will make your life a lot easier.

Life is a never-ending learning process. Don’t be stagnant.

(Sleep deprived thoughts of a paranoid insomniac- January 15, 2018, Monday Belgium)

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Daily Prompt: Study

Static

… my life at the moment.

For the last fifteen years in fact.

Don’t get me wrong. I moved out four times during that time, renovated two properties from top to bottom, I went on vacation twice a year, published books, wrote a novel took my customary long walks, hiked found new hobbies learned new things and yet it is boring and sedentary compared to how my life was before.

I don’t know… maybe because for the first time in my life I am not alone anymore. Funny because for the first time in my life also, I have no friends, not even mates or acquaintances, no co-workers no neighbors (I am talking to) and for the first time in my life I’m faithful. Yet I’m not alone, I don’t travel alone, I don’t go to the shop alone, I don’t eat alone or sleep alone. He is always with me.

He is always with me that sometimes I want to run away. Go as far away from him as possible. Vocal and brutally honest I am I tell him sometimes exactly how I feel. I said: “You’re too present you’re choking me.” No answer.

I ask for divorce once in a while. He always said no. And we go on as before. Mind you, if he will say yes, I will sign the papers blindfolded. That’s how much I meant it. Why I am not pursuing the act? I’ve been there done that. It took me three years to get rid of my ex I don’t want to go through that road again.

And here I am, comfortably present but not living. Not the kind of life I want to lead. I am Sinbad of the Seven Seas, what am I doing in prison? I guess old age does that to people. Old age and chronic illness. Chronic illness and faithfulness. Faithfulness and love. Or is it care and gratitude. Care gratitude and guilt. The eagle has to land sometimes. Build an expensive nest full of designer things and eat beautiful food and drink expensive wine. Go on a cruise and drive a BMW. Why is it that I am not happy?

God, I’m becoming a cliché. I become one of those I vowed never to be. I can blame no one but me. Life is how you make it. Sometimes I rather live in a dump if I’m sure it is going to put back the smile I’ve lost on my face. I can think of thousand different things I rather do places I rather be. Jonathan Safran Foer once said:

“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.”

That’s exactly how I feel.

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Evoke

Injustice.

In all forms.

A guarantee to evoke my wrath. 

I’m a champion of the underdogs.

Though I am not always aware of it.

Others brought it to my attention.

They say injustice never failed to get a reaction from me.

Maybe they are right.

I can’t stand anything that has to do with abuse.

That and stupidity.

In all forms.

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Carve

New Year. A fresh start. A new chapter in life waiting to be written. New questions to be asked, embraced, and loved. Answers to be discovered and then lived in this transformative year of delight and self-discovery. Today carve out a quiet interlude for yourself in which to dream, pen in hand. Only dreams give birth to change.

~Sarah Ban Breathnach

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Weathered

I once broke into an old abandoned coal mine to see what’s inside. I squeezed myself in between the chainlink fencing and gained access. Once inside, I saw why they prohibited anyone snooping around. The building was so dilapidated some of the walls were crumbling down and the ceiling could fall down any moment. But I love it. I love period, weathered, abandoned, old crumbling properties. They fascinate me. I feel they have interesting stories to tell.

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Brilliant

In my country of birth, we have a folklore that goes like this:

One day God was feeling lonely he decided to create something in his own likeness so he set up a fire and started fashioning humans from clay. Satisfied with what he had made he proceeded to bake them in the fire. While cooking, some urgent matter called his attention back to heaven and he forgot all about them. When he finally remembered it was too late, his first batch of images was burned. He decided to keep them anyway and that’s how the black people were born.

Not giving up easily, God decided to try again. This time out of fear he removed his group of new sculptures from the fire a lot earlier than he supposed to do so he ended up with underdone figures that were barely colored. Again like the first group he keeps them. And that’s how Caucasian people came into being. 

A firm believer of the saying third time’s the charm, God decided to try once more. This time he stayed close to the fire eyeing his creations like a hawk, turning them around ever so often so it baked evenly on all sides. When he was satisfied with his work and thought he could not do more or better, he took them off from the fire. And there it was, a batch of perfectly baked golden brown likeness of him. And that’s how we, Asians came to exist. 

What do you think folks? Isn’t it a brilliant story? Take it with a grain (a bucketful if necessary) of salt. It’s only a folklore. I bet each country has their own version of it. 

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Forlorn

…that’s how people look like here, sad, detached, hurried and morose. Big cars and even bigger houses, stable jobs, families and so many chances and choices gleaming future and opportunities, and yet all failed to put smiles on their faces. I am not looking at it from the outside, I live here long enough (even longer than where I came from) to know that whatever they don’t have is nothing compared to what most of the world population has to suffer and make do. And what is it that lacking in their lives? Predominantly warmth and affections, motivations and inspirations, gratitude and contentment, (all the things money cannot buy) and the incapabilities to carpe diem and enjoy little things or merely enjoy. Unless intoxicated. They need so much to laugh and be merry. Lots of alcohol, lots of food, lots of people, clothes, accessories, gadgets trips, anything excess. They do it or pretend to be doing it only occasionally. For the rest of the time, they walk like forlorn figures around they will put those in poor disaster areas in shame. Sometimes I would like to walk to them hold them by the shoulders and shake them hard until their teeth rattled shouting at their faces “Wake up! Don’t you know how lucky you are?” 

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Garbage Bin

This somehow reminds me of a blog post I wrote a while back. A true to life tale I called  A Valentine Story.

I don’t know about intimacy, but we knew how to fuck. So, we hardly ever talked afterward. I cracked a few jokes, did some small talk, and she responded with laughter and nods. Then she got dressed, kissed my forehead, and left.

This went on for months. I didn’t know how she got that scar on her thighs, but I knew she liked it when I touched there. She didn’t know why I’ve so many acne on my back, but she was always careful not to scratch them, even by chance.

On some days, she cried. For at least 20 minutes. I never asked why, and she never bothered to tell from ahead. But I would hold her as she sobbed – stroking her hair, caressing her earlobe.

Her name was Anamika. We met through an online dating app, and she straight ahead told me she’s just looking for sex. “I don’t care about your issues, and you shouldn’t care about mine,” she said, right after we slept together for the first time.

Anamika had a tattoo of a garbage bin on her lower back. Sometimes, when she was asleep – snoring lightly – I touched it and wondered why she got inked.

Every once in a while, she had bruises on her neck, her chest, even her back (right above the tattoo, sometimes.) But I wasn’t allowed to ask her about it. That was our deal.

So, we quietly wept with each other. Two strangers seeking refuge in loud moans, hoping to drown everything else.

One day, she didn’t turn up. And then the next week too. Then an entire month. Her phone was unavailable, and I had no other way to get in touch with her. For all I know, Anamika wasn’t even her real name.

I still don’t know what happened to her. Maybe, she got bored. Maybe, she moved towns. Maybe, she died. I can’t say.

But I’ll remember her, and the little bin on her lower back. I don’t know anything about love. But Anamika and I knew how to fuck.

~Hardik Nagar The Honest Musing via Facebook

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Growth

Last summer I was walking along this (almost) barren coast in Majorca when I encountered these little beauties. And I thought: How they can grow and flourish in this extreme situation? 

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It was hot, windy, suffocating and dry; so dry, and yet they look as if they are having a good time. I envy their tenacity and perseverance. Tough little angels. 

While most of us are struggling to grow anything in almost ideal circumstances with the help of everything available to us, these creatures are happily surviving without help other than what they can find in nature. Perhaps we can learn a thing or two from them. Don’t you think so? 

Treat

Life is too short.

The more I get older the more I find that there is plenty of truth in that old cliché. When we were young we never worry about the fact that we are all born terminal and live on borrowed time. We act as if we are immortal and time is on our side. Only when it is almost too late we realize that the end is near and we have to do all we can to make the most of the remaining hours we have left here on this planet. 

Some people age gracefully in manner and in appearance,  and some seem to be the reasons why the midlife crisis was invented. Anyway, no matter what, I believe people have a right to treat themselves once in a while. Have a little me time, find a room in your schedules and budgets to ‘splurge’ on something that makes you __ I wanted to say happy but I decided to settle with__ feel good. Happy is a big word anyway. I refrain using it unless necessary.

I think that if we allow ourselves to have some ‘little treats’ every now and then, we could ward off unnecessary inconveniences like depression and burnouts.

I read somewhere that in Japan, people on death row are not informed when they will be executed. The inmates wake up each day thinking it is their last. Authorities do it deliberately so these condemned prisoners get as much out of their remaining time. Talking of you have to be cruel to be kind and tough love. 

I guess what I’m really trying to say is Carpe Diem whenever you can because____

Life is too Short.

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