Happy Birthday Mom….

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In my few years of existing here, I’ve heard life characterized by many adjectives but nothing quite prepares you for the fact that it ceases especially when it goes all ninja like. Sneaking in and taking that which you least expected would be taken; then a whole lot begins to actually make sense even though all your life, they were familiar. The true value of anything is really known only when it is lost and so when the absence hurts the most is when events associated with that loss come up. Life actually never ceases but there must always be a transition, and then we really have no sway over that phase of life and maybe that is what sucks the most.

Happy birthday mommy!

Today would have been my mom’s 74th birthday however I choose to mark this day on this side of life being thankful for all she did to make me the man I am. Yes the regrets still come up but there’s nothing I can do about them but to apply them towards making today as significant as it would have been. As a father, I see her in her grandkids and that gives me some solace because therein is a reminder that she truly imparted values that would last generations. Ironically today is quite special because I was also introduced to the world on the same day, and I never could understand why she always told the story of my birth – I was born premature but today I’m thankful because I can tell the beginning of my story having heard it so many times.

Grief is like a sponge, cleansing even though it’s painful so today I choose to celebrate her in a different way. I realize that there are so many dimensions to our lives but we get to choose and prioritize. She was the embodiment of her name; victorious and full of vitality. And for us growing up, she held nothing back to ensure we had that leg up that many unfortunately never had. In retrospect, after her transition, I realized she had so much secreted away for reasons best known to her. In the light of some of these revelations, do I hurt? Yes I do but it was her choice and that I will always respect.

Just like Samson, I opine to say that she achieved more in her passing than she did whilst she lived. I just got off the phone, yet another reminder of what she lived for. My dearest aunt tearfully calling to remind me that today would have been her birthday and I think I get it. There are relationships that despite the divide in life, transcend the norm and as I try to do her honor, I must acknowledge that she was the best of us. Just like the matador in the arena, we were only spectators but how glad I am that she put up such a fascinating display as a lady, a wife and most importantly as my mother. She was almost everything and her standards were the best even with her imperfections.

In honor of her, I commit to being the best version of myself regardless of present circumstances and deep down I hope she is proud of me because I am eternally grateful to have been part of her life for 43 years and some. Now going forward, I listen to her grand daughter who fusses over me just like her grandmother would. In the blossoming of her life, I cherish every moment as she grows into the lady that I am and will always be proud of because I see and recognize virtues and priceless traits that bridge generations even as they are passed on. I never experienced the hard knocks my mom received so I wouldn’t have to and so I take the knocks today so that mine would never experience them too.

The least I can do is never give up in carrying her legacy on. And even when it feels like I’m getting swamped, I’m rejuvenated by the fact that she gave life her best shot and so I have no excuse but to give life my best shot. No excuses at all!

Happy birthday mommy and till we meet again in heaven, may your memories be a constant source of blessing to me and mine. I love you now and always! Your son.

Feasts, sacrifices and puzzles….

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Celebrating in style…

One of my favorite genres in movies is action themed medieval films, especially those trying to reenact history. I do remember that during my growing up years, I loved and dreamed of being born then because it seemed like a good sword fight and banquets with huge boars (or any animal deemed a good catch and unfortunate to be killed) roasting over huge flames went hand in hand. However what fierce battles raged then (some for reasons unknown or lost with time), times when men and women were usually valued based on the formidability of their strength in battle – skill and brains combined. Why go to war if you could win over territories by the sheer knowledge of your previous conquests preceding you?

Approximately between 1050 – 1030 b.c, it was a tumultuous time for the Israelites as they vacillated between the era of judges; some notable for leading in righteousness and those infamous for allowing unrighteousness prosper. You see, it was really quite simple back then as it still is today – 2 options; one based on doing right by God’s standards and the other based on the opposite, the crowd pleaser. God’s standard was not that difficult to discern, much easier these days with the ability to read almost an ability that is taken for granted. I just remember the opulence of their feasts, carving up an entire hog with casks of ale flowing….cholesterol wasn’t an issue, actually they outlived us by centuries and it was definitely not because they lacked medicine (I dare opine that they actually had better and so much more affordable healthcare than we do today).

In the last 2 weeks, I’ve unfortunately been discomfited by frequent (and very painful) back spasms that I’ve been forced to unearth my lumbar belt – a wide inflatable belt with magnet inserts. There are those unfortunate periods when fashion and other trivialities go out the windows as we try to get some degree of comfort in the midst of some medically influencing torrid times. I digress because I trust that the season is over now and thus apply myself to more noble pursuits. One event during the Israelites circuitous journey to acknowledging God’s sovereignty was when their colour party (The Ark of Covenant) was captured. For anybody versed in these matters, your colour party must never be captured in battle because that in essence is who you are. However they (The Israelites) lost it due to sheer disobedience and thinking righteousness could be obtained by lavish sacrifices, just like attempting to put on a slap-on band aid on a gashing cut . Disobedience can never be wiped away with lavish sacrifices because obedience in itself is a sacrifice worthy of God’s attention.

It’s best imagined what feasts the Philistines threw with the capture of God’s Ark (not forgetting the massacre of over 35,000 fighting Israelites too….). Now nothing can be further from the truth in these words, ‘abuse is inevitable when purpose is unknown’ and so heady with the victory, the Philistines placed God’s Ark in the temple of one of their many esteemed god’s temple. What humiliation Dagon suffered in his temple because the idol was first cast to the ground in the first night and the next night after being restored, not only was it cast down but both hands and feet were cut off. Now, that situation right there is not something you can immediately restore and no matter how much mead or ale has been consumed, whatever fogs still remain are sure to clear. The Philistines knew without a doubt that they were way in over their head…..

The events unfold in subsequent pages but it kind of reminds me of times when I’ve in folly tried to combine two insoluble events together. The results are usually catastrophic and filed under ‘past experiences’ many times, and ironically till date we still make the same mistakes (I often wonder happened to learning from history). We allow the headiness of triumphs (obtained by God and delivered to us) cloud our senses and inadvertently we find ourselves on the seat of our pants, a laughable sight as we try to shake out the clouds of dust from our hair and clothes. In reality, everything around us was created and therefore our response should be a deserved reverence for The Creator but even as life zips by digitally, it often takes a crash to make us aware that the solution to puzzling events staring us in the face cannot be gotten from neither our feeble minds nor our shallow and limited understanding.

Puzzling….in our faces

For some reason, puzzles will always be a part of life’s package and regardless of how much time we spend trying to decipher them, the solution is usually right there just that we fail to see it. I remember a dear friend, with tears unchecked and rolling down, telling me a couple of weeks back, “I just got a call that my father has only a week to live!” Now that I truly can understand because that single call is one of those moments that define you going foward. Is this a storm that you hunker down and wait out or do you take it on head on? For me, that is an alarm screaming for you to pause and be sure that you’re in His Hands because in situations like that, where else can you be? Events like these will always pop up and how they transform you is ultimately determined by how you respond.

I have long learned that emotional stress is a definite trigger for dystonic episodes and so even when everything about me is itching to gear up for battle, I look down and see scars that remind me to pause, step back and reevaluate my position. ‘Anything worth living for is worth dying for!’ is not just the utterance of a mind in drunken stupor but one that should be carefully understood. Preceding every feast is a triumph but the most notable of triumphs are those gotten without lifting a Honjõ Masamune or wielding a C15 M4 Type Carbine (configured like an M4-style carbine with a flat-top upper) from Bushmaster. The greatest weapons are usually largely invisible and most often less thought of.

In our journey through life’s seas, prioritizing is a skill best learned early. Storms are a certainty however our preparation prior to the storm cannot be taken for granted because very many people define success as opportunity meeting preparedness. I define success as being thankful for where I am today and the liberty of making the right choices. Chance befalls us all, choice differentiates us and so taking time to realize how significant our choices will be to a great extent defines how much merriment awaits us ahead. The success of our journeys is a combination of controllable and uncontrollable events and the choices we make.

Enjoy the journey and try to get better every day. And don’t lose the passion and the love for what you do.” – Nadia Comaneci, and remember that “he/she is no fool to give up cannot be kep to gain what cannot afford to be lost” – Jim Elliot.

עד ניפגש שוב, תן אהבה שלו למלא ולשמור אותך!

Adios!

Behind the walls….

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https://redzhis.files.wordpress.com/2017/06/Behind the wall

Behind the wall

Photography is a hobby of mine, getting more difficult with this journey I am on, but I learned as a child that a picture is worth a thousand words. Words come easy to some, not on account of the possession of a mouth, lips, vocal cords or hands, I opine that they come easy based on who you are on the inside. Words have always been an essential part of humanity or better put, communication has always been an esssential part of humanity. In war or peace, communication always played a pivotal role. I look around and realise that without words and communication, not much would be the way they are today.  It is therefore not very difficult to surmise that we all use words allbeit in different forms. How we use them is an issue on its own, but the way we use them guarantees either a reaction or a response.

A couple of nights ago, I was telling my daughter about the biblical story of Joshua and the battle of Jericho, and when I told her that the walls were so enormous and fortified that chariots could race above those walls. Now we are talking about at least two war horses (noted for their temperament, constitution and loyalty), the chariot (usually constructed from wood with a decoration of some metal filigree) and one adult. Now that there in itself is some weight, by the time you factor in the effects of the force transmitted into the walls by the running hooves, the rotating wheels etc, it is best imagined that those walls were not a foray into construction by some individual who felt bored. They were built to withstand, provide refuge for the inhabitants of the city especially in times of war and also exude a sense of peace as you gained entrance to the city.

This was not what I intended to talk about however, in the light of recent happenings, this has been birthed. Walls signify fortification and with the evolution of dynasties, we still require walls even as individuals for our residences; be they grand or tiny. Breach the walls of someone else, without invitation, and you are bound to suffer the consequences of whatever you encounter behind those wall. I recall my first experience in erecting walls; the walls for the family home built by my parents, I remember the foreman spitting out expletives when the wrong mixture of cement, sand, gravel and water was used. For the ‘security’ walls, the concrete mix differed from what was used for other parts of the building and despite the grumblings of the artisans and workers, they just had to get it right. In order to gain access to the house, you had to first get past the wall and it was so much easier when you were invited in (we have always had guard dogs, as children and when we were still in the nest, set loose at night). Behind those towering walls, there were secrets that could only be guessed by those walking on the outside and therefore in times of conflict, reconnaissance was vital.

As earlier mentioned, photography is a hobby and with time, I realised that I preferred staying behind the camera rather than being the subject of a photo shoot and till this day, my best pictures of people are those taken when they were unaware because it tells you a lot. And so I am of that quaint school of people that believe that man has yet again tinkered with the status quo because there are so many ways of editing pictures that they just come across as unreal and therefore the thousand words are inadvertently influenced to create a story that appeals to the subject. I can remember visiting a studio, just to get some passport photographs and when the passport pictures were given to me, I almost dropped them in shock because he had gone the extra mile of editing away my freckles! This was at least 7 years ago, so the leaps and bounds photo editing has come through is not something I want to even deliberate upon.

As an individual, I believe that words and instrumental music (classical, opera etc) are true expressions of the writer’s hearts and if you attempt to tinker with that then your objective had best be communicated as well. If the objectives are not properly or clearly expressed, not only is that an attempt to mislead but you taint the interpretation. Admittedly, it took quite a prodding before I joined Facebook and the like, however I try to stay true and for years, my Facebook account lacked any pictures of me. The other day, with my daughter going behind the camera, I made a short video of what an episode of dystonia looked like and I posted it on my facebook wall, I am still reeling from the flood of goodwill messages that are still coming through. The most popular comment from people has been been, “I’m so sorry, I never knew this what you were passing through”. I am still stuttering from the number of calls from people who called me after seeing the video. In all honesty, that will go down as one of my first attempts at emerging from behind my wall.

By virtue of the compelling and overwhelming need to conform, many of us have successfully, for years, hidden behind our walls; tucked away securely in our comfort zone reluctant to reveal the truth because the truth is not something that is a crowd pleaser. On the contrary, it actually reveals more that you had wanted to and the interpretation is best left to the recipient. Nobody wants to appear weak and vulnerable because we have become brain washed with notions that vulnerability is a sign of weakness and weakness is something that should be oft despised. What makes us human does not lie in what we have acquired over the years, it is in the everyday gestures and expressions of our hearts carried through on platters of kindness, compassion, hope , trust, faith and love. No matter how much concrete we pour into creating our impenetrable comfort zone, whatever you portray when you want to emerge, is a far cry from who you truly are and that in itself is a deception of gargantuan proportions. In order to deceive others, you first of all have to deceive yourself and rationalising it logically, the person bound to be hurt the most is YOU!

Discernment is a gift that many of us have been blessed with, but few have bothered building it up and developing it with the right nutrients just like we do with our bodies. We have chosen to ignore the needs around us as we journey through, confident in our own self told fact; “it is not my storm” and “if I were in your shoes, this is what I would done”. Can I kindly hush you before you make a bigger mess of yourselves, YOU CAN NEVER KNOW HOW YOU WOULD RESPOND OR REACT IN THAT SITUATION UNTIL YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH SOMETHING SIMILAR. As we saunter down life’s streets, we encounter walls of all kinds – some standing tall, some crumbling and in dire need of attention and some completely broken down. What do we do when we are opportuned to see beyond those walls? What do we do when we come across a broken down wall? Do we join in looting the spoils or we help in rebuilding? Self-control is a trait (scripturally likened to a wall) that we all must have as individuals but when our walls become less of a necessity for us and more of a ‘keeping with the flow’, then it is time to stop and re-evaluate.

Some of us have been so sucker punched by experiences that we lay in the dirt, completely spent, greedily grabbing air into our lungs and watch in dismay as our highly decorated walls fall to bits. We lack the strength to even pull ourselves up but there is a choice to be made here, “get back on your feet, soldier!” or curl up in the dirt and wait for the final curtain drop. I might still be reeling from the annoying attempts of dystonia as it tries in vain to re-define me, but I will rise and with tottering steps, get out from behind my self-built wall because just down the road, there is a city whose walls are fallen in battle and its citizens paralysed by the sheer enormousity of being prisoners of war. There is no joy in being a prisoner and while we are constrained by events that we didn’t choose, we can redefine our priorities and make our lives count for something. This might be that chance to reach in and pull out that gift that you have so selfishly used on yourself and for yourself alone, and instead choose to use it in assisting someone else. I can whole-heartedly assure you that your fears of it running out will not materialise.

True, money answers all things but does it provide all things? And if the answer is a quiet yes muttered beneath our breath then it would make so much sense to apply it to providing channels for those things that cannot be bought. There will never be a perfect life, no dwelling on the mountain top forever and whilst you are basking in the sun, and getting a tan or luxuriating in the freshness of the cool air from the ocean side, remember that the sun will set soon and when the darkness sets in, pray that you do not stumble. Storms will always come, we can do nothing about the size or strength of the storm but the factors that you can influence, please do not hold back. For today, you are able to shelter a wandering stranger as his night engulfs him, tomorrow is a mystery that we can prepare for today by just being human.

Remember “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience” – Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. My thanks go out to those who in the last few days (and those to come) have with no hesitation accepted me as their friend and brother, especially those who like me have hidden behind the walls of dystonia and Parkinson’s syndrome, know this; Champions can be born great or they can learn greatness. Each of you are champions because as long as you arise each day not knowing whether it is going to be a good day or not, you are making the choice to make your life count for something. No matter how heavy or long a rainstorm lasts, it can never wash off the smile on your face.

עד שנפגשנו שוב, אולי התענוגות שלו להיות העונג שלך לעשות

Adios!