In the stillness…

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Be Still

There will always be that time when it seems like I can barely escape the shadows. When all else quietens, and the sound of my beating heart reverberates through the silence. It is in those times that I reminisce on the topsy turvy of the journey I call my life’s tale and find true beauty in the ashes.

From the plucky little chap in his bright shorts and shirt, tugging on the leash of my toy doggie; Snoopy. The world in all of its enormity, a conquest to be had with nothing looking remotely like an obstacle. I remember how much of a daredevil I was, mischief twinkling in my eyes with hands and feet that couldn’t stay still for long. Searching for and accepting the craziest dares, it looked like I was invisible but life is a mystery box and when jack pops up – it is either of two options, a heart attack or a rush of adrenaline. Regardless of how neatly life appeared, a neatly stacked line of dominoes, nothing really prepares you for the uncertainties.

Even through high school, when friends were made anew with a promise of always being there, life was like a walk in the amusement park with a pocketful of quarters. Never hungry or butt naked, every phase was a trail to attaining a milestone and life was truly beautiful. Sneaking through the pantry with mother’s catering books, whipping out pastries and trying out recipes, nothing could possibly have been better. However there’s always going to be that turn in the road, when visibility is so limited and despite how hard one tries, you cannot see beyond the turn. Stopping, getting down and re-evaluating is not always feasible especially when the thrill of the ride is euphoric.

I remember the concussion I suffered when in my haste (why I always ran is still unfathomable) I ran through the discus sector and got hit by the discus. I remember having my fair share of being picked on and childhood fights. I remember walking home in tattered clothes because my ‘experiment’ blew up in my face and gave me 2nd degree burns (earning the nickname Acidman). I remember being so sick only to find out I had weird allergies. I remember witnessing a nurturing home and loving relationship being torn apart by folly and the influence of wrong company. I remember my first automobile accident, tumbling over and over. I remember being shot at. I remember waking up one night unable to breathe, the race to the ER. I remember journeys to strange places and encounters best left unshared. …….but I survived because of God’s mercy and love.

I recall the university years, being the enigma to many even as I sought to stay true to myself. Plunging headfirst into as many events as I could, getting the down side of misplaced priorities when I chose to continue my internship despite the fact that lectures had commenced. Grateful for the fact that I could be the ear to those in need, a shoulder to cry on for the broken and the elixir for the depressed. Life was beautiful indeed and with the mixture of highs and low, exhilarating describes it best. Graduating from university and going off to the unknown, I knew I would survive because that was just who I was. A blend of healthy spiritual fundamentals and a healthy body, I blossomed within an awesome relationship with God. I was prepared for anything!

Commencing my work career, I thought I had it all planned out and even when I dropped the white collar job for a stint in the military, the confusions of many was the least of my worries. Parenthood was another season and as always I had it all planned out in my head. Setting up a trust for tuition, acquiring what I wanted, it was all going well but it’s in our nature to plan however it is God who decides. Knowing I had that relationship served as a buffer when things went south occasionally, however I had been raised to believe in myself and so I always did. Just when it seemed like I had it all together, life happened. Series of events that I never imagined started unfolding bringing to fore the idiom, ‘when it rains, it pours!’

The culmination of a life in tatters was in December 2011, all around me that carefully built life in heaps of wreckage and just like a skilled burglar, night had suddenly and swiftly crept up on me. Struggling with those fiercely entwining tendrils of darkness, it was a struggle to make head of it all. And each time, I chose to head for the light, the darkness just got longer. This was no medical condition, this was my life now, almost completely subjected to the dictates of the rare, incurable neurological condition termed dystonia. Then it hit me right in the gut; there were no voices lifted in celebration to be heard, no hand to lift me up, no strength to light a match. This was now my life, like a pariah condemned to dwell outside the city walls, isolation was a welcome thing. However, we are a result of our choices and so I learned to bargain with an adroitness I never knew existed. Learned to lace my own shoes with brow furrowed in pain, every little gesture a battle of wits, things previously taken for granted were now things I had to relearn. Circumventing steps to conserve my little energy, being the object of compassion either as I was wheeled in a chair or as I struggled to make my way home leaning heavily on my cane.

In the stillness, my eyes slowly adapted to the darkness and my ears became attuned to the groans of those fallen around me. This was my life but still there was a purpose to it and regardless of the absence of ‘friends’ or ‘family’, one truth stood out; this was my life and so every choice I made had to count. When the cold hands of depression sought to console me, I chose to shrug them off and in the stillness, I found hope that I hitherto believed was lost. I found friends who became brothers and I realized that purpose is not shaped by your experiences rather it is given more clarity during those experiences. Today, I am not just a survivor but I am a victor because even though I have been scorched by the flames, I am now stronger just by the process of walking through the raging flames.

It is in the stillness that you learn some of the hardest lessons, letting go of pride and ambition whilst embracing compassion and aspiration. It is in the stillness that I have learned that my life is not dictated by the size of material wealth but by the riches of intangible values. It is in the stillness, empathy assumes meaning and pain can be shared. I have known abundance and lack, however I have also learned that contentment is wanting what you have, kindness is giving when all else is screaming, ‘save for the rainy day’. It is in the stillness that I have learned that it is better standing in the rain with a friend or someone in need than struggling not to get wet beneath a poncho. In the stillness, I have learned what true strength is, what trusting God means and what living actually means.

Sticks, stones and words will hurt but the resilience of the human spirit is so much more greater. That is what will define you when all else has gone silent. That is what nothing can take away from you except you choose to let it go. It is all about the stillness….

עד ניפגש שוב, תן אהבה שלו למלא ולשמור אותך!

Adios!

Clearing Debris….

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Sometimes it just seems like our lives are a kitchen sink filled to the brim with clutter- dirty dishes, dirty mugs, used and discarded cutlery. And a few inches above, a window cracked slightly open but with the sill in dire need of attention. More often than not, we do not even realize how cluttered we are until we are desperately in need of a clean plate for a meal that we so longingly crave, as pang upon pang of hunger hits us. Sometimes, we are confronted by circumstances that, had we been given an option, we would not even want to imagine it.

It has been about a week since Hurricane Harvey and although I’m careful not to write about trending issues, (life is more than a carpeted runway in a fashion show) this was a life transforming event for many. The very things that we want to know, in retrospect, have no benefit to us in the long run. Humanity is often clouded by hastily taken decisions, bordering on sentiments that have no lasting power and like the wisps of smoke from an extinguished camp fire, we watch helplessly as the smoke dissipates into the air. We long for the warmth of the fire after it’s put out and usually we are oblivious to the fact that right at the edge of darkness, a pair of feral eyes glinting in the dark is the only evidence that we have been spared from more than just the loss of the campfire.

In my opinion, it comes across as a slight blend of annoyance and irritation when in the aftermath of a storm, someone comes across and without tact, utters the following words beginning with “if I were you…..”. How on earth could you ever be me? That statement in itself is tantamount to ridiculing the order of existence. We are all individuals of unique capabilities and purposes, and therefore flaunting your naivety is not by any standard, a measure of intelligence. To this day, I recall how destructive a storm can be but amidst the storm, there can also be a peace that trounces the storm. In my sessions of encouragement, I usually reiterate how life transforming some events can be. Considering the transformation is probably going to be the content of the next post however how we deal with the transformation tells more about us than we care to share.

Summoning up courage to see the positive in the transformation, a transformation that we all must face in one form or another, is best experienced. It is easy to be cheerful when our bellies bulge with the cuisine of our preference, when our pockets sag with the weight of gaudy trinkets and gold sovereigns. It is easy to encourage another when there are no ruffles in our every day lives but what happens when the very things we inadvertently and often unwittingly depend on is taken away? When our brains freeze in distress and panic and the usual praise songs seem like a burden of irritation? Can we at that point, realize that clearing out debris from another’s house is way different from clearing the debris from our own homes. How effusive our condolences are when the mourning is another’s but the true definition of your values is seen in the nudity of our fundamental beliefs.

Driving around town and seeing streets constricted by the debris and unsalvageable items left in the wake of H.Harvey is yet another learning point. There is no rejoicing over that, neither should there be any guilt that nothing of yours was lost. The basic tenets of life are in full display in the aftermath of the storm. I see the sadness in the eyes of those who have been forced to lose houses, cars, antique pieces. I hear the hollow echo in their words as many struggle to come to terms with the fact that the house that has been in the family for generations has been reduced to rubble. The desperation that comes with the knowledge that there’s so much the insurance companies can do…..then is when the question should be asked, “where have you stored your treasures?” The transient treasures of this world lose value in the face of catastrophic events like receiving a diagnosis of an incurable medical condition. Nonetheless, it is not what we do with our blessings that is the real test, rather it is what we do when the blessings are taken away?

I recall purchasing my very first cellphone, a Motorola Accompli – I had scoured through newspapers waiting for that discount to be published. And when I added up the dimes and nickels, my joy knew no bounds as I pushed open the phone dealership to finally lay my hands on my dream phone. It had taken a significant portion of a year and almost all of my savings, but it was all worth it because now I has dreamt, woken up and achieved the dream. My moment of truth came as I was crossing the street with my new phone cradled under my arm…..”what would happen if my dream phone suddenly fell from my hands, and despite my best efforts, meet its untimely demise on the tarred road?” Shattered with no hope of being put back together, what would I do? That was the defining moment in my life because there and then, I realized that we are each responsible for the extent our blessings hold sway over our lives. That moment of truth shaped my life and regardless of how cruel this might sound, we need to clean out the debris and loss from the storms we encounter.

It’s not ungodly to be saddened by the loss of what we built with our hands but have we taken time to realize that its rebuildable stuff thats been lost and not our hands. There is no sense in battling the undertanding that till we let go of the old, we might never receive the new. It is only when we let go of what we have in our hands, that God can actually use it. And who can better the old but the manufacturer Himself? There is no insurmountable grief, no helpless battle instead there will always be you and I who have, for some unfathomable reason, refused to just let go. And till we let go, we will simply sink further into the bog. Behind every debris is not just grief and loss but there is also open space to truly delight in. Embracing the fact that we are able to trust One who has never and will never hold back the very best for us. We might not see the best as we look at the clutter in our lives but we must look beyond to enable us receive that which will always be His best for us. It is not about us putting the puzzle together, it is more of letting go and letting Him and even if we do not understand now, there will come a time and place where the fullness of knowledge will come upon us.

עד ניפגש שוב, תן את היופי של ארשת פניו לזרוח עלינו!

Adios!

…treasure in the trash!

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Life, like I constantly say, is a journey and like every other journey, it has got its fair share of twists, curves, bad patches, lonely stretches and quite a few ‘unprepared for’ events that occur. Most of us start out in life believing what we were told, not necessarily because we experienced it and so most times when we have our own unique encounters, it almost seems as though we probably might have been served a slightly garnished portion of truth. And then we go into those dreadful places where we think the isolation will take away the pain, but in all fairness, the process of living encompasses the good, the bad and the ugly. What we decide to run with will always be the choice we make, regardless of whether it was ‘an uninformed’ choice or not.

It is so seared in my memory, that I think it probably might show up on an MRI scan of my brain, the very moment when I was about walking into the consulting room of one of the most brilliant neurosurgeons in the world. I do not know if we each have those moments where everything seems to be perfectly captured in a still shot. Photography has always been and will always be a hobby of mine and where I defer from the modern world of perfect shots is in the fact that the best shots are captured when the subject is least aware of what is taking place. I do remember that was the very first time of ever hearing the words; “this is dystonia….it is a rare and incurable condition”. That I did not gasp was not about proper conduct or the presence of my kid sibling, it was me reverting to my default setting, applying sheer will and the relief of finally getting an answer to the myriad of questions that had been plaguing me

Till date, I remember the side glances, usually of pity as I struggled to teach myself how to still make the best of life. I still remember the words barely concealing their unbelief but very transparent in their lack of support when I really needed it the most. However we go through life, never really understanding why we pass through situations until it finally clicks that it was all in preparation for this moment decades after. Being the 3rd of 6 kids, I learned at an early age that being in the middle really puts you in a bit of dilemma – you are either too young to hang out with the older ones or too old to hang out with the younger ones. And so I learned how to make my life count for something that I would value as against attempting to fit in. This choice has actually made who I am and till date, it is a daily habit – choosing how to see a completely different perspective of any circumstance.

Nobody is born great, if you want to be different, you take the tools at your disposal and work at being different. That, I can assure you is not a walk in the park because in the park, everyone is doing something, some are seating, some are cycling or walking, some are feeding the pigeons but everyone is there for a unique reason and some of those reasons might conflict with yours or compliment yours. Now I am yet to ever go to the park because I want to engage in nothing, that is akin to saying that standing still makes time stand still too. It never will, and so every decision we make either propels us forward or drags us back. I have also learned that nobody can ever walk in your shoes and just like my daughter was telling me that her running shoes were getting tight, I have to choose to listen to her because it is about her feet and the comfort of wearing the right fit, besides she cannot wear mine anyway.

At the onset of this battle with myoclonus, I chose to read and digest every snippet of information I could lay my hands on, not for want of something to do but because I knew that choices would abound and so I needed to be ready to make the choices that would be for me not for my neighbor who could bound up and down the stairs 10 times faster than I would do in just one solitary trip. I learned that there was no shame in asking for help even though I struggled with pride and ego (two things that if not properly categorized would do you in). I learned that even though there were times I could barely afford it, I needed to make my regular appointments with the team of medical experts that dystonia calls for. I learned to listen to my chiropractor talk about new approaches. I also learned that if it walked for Nichol, when he gleefully talked about it in our National Dystonia Society meetings, it was not necessarily a green light for me. I learned that I needed to embrace reality in order to discover newer ways of doing old things.

As I write this, I remember painfully chronicling every head trauma that I had ever experienced. I was not resentful that of 6 kids, I was the only one who had been dealt this card but I would on occasions ask myself if my parents had missed something or I had downplayed the concussion I received in several unrelated events. Faced with such a barrage of questions, it sometimes felt that even though I pride myself a good swimmer, I was in waters that were too choppy to swim in. The ultimate question was what was I to do with this deck of cards life had handed me, continue to look for something to blame or look for newer ways of continuing on my journey. I realize now that the symptoms were always there but just maybe, I did not really understand my parents’ when they said ‘keeping an ailment a secret could cost you your life’ and that ‘hiding ailments is an exercise in futility because the ailment will not return the favour’.

Nothing emerges from the furnace unchanged, and so with every painful burn and relentless bouts of pain, I knew that there was only one person God had given the responsibility to call for a change in game plan – Me! And so the process of embracing dystonia began, not as I embrace friends but so that with each new day, I would continue to forge new ways to go on. I am thankful for the family that God has brought around me, thankful for the international calls, care packages and the best friend who might not be aware of how much of an influence the relationship has aided me. Honestly, being bull headed and direct is definitely not the panacea to every situation but for this battle, I will choke down the pain, stave off the waves of despondency that being in need always brings and just choose the perspective that gives me the opportunity to see the glimmer of light regardless of how tiny it might be.

I remember how it feels giving a baby his first bath at your hands, you just cannot give room to all the fears and doubts that anxiously await. Do what you have to do confidently because if you do fail then you have just learned another way of not doing it. My response to ‘how are you doing?’ will always be “it is a brand new day and for that I am thankful!’ and when events muddy up the water, I will find the strength to toss it out lest it festers and becomes more debilitating and hazardous to my well-being. When I stare at my medication holder, and wonder when it became a part of my dressing, I remind myself that time holds all seasons and this too is a season. When the bills pile up and the notices flood in, I remind myself that worrying is so much action but with so little relevant movement. Today is a new day, out with the old and in with the new!

Remember that the best gems are found deep in the dirt and so deep within you lies a treasure of inestimable worth, but you do have to do away with the sneering glances, the spiteful looks, the scathing comments and get it out because that is what is going to make your life journey more purposeful and meaningful to not just you but to every life that you are privileged to encounter.

פרידה עד שנפגשנו שוב בתזמון שלו, וייתכן שאהבתו של אלוהים להיות אמיתית לך!

Adios!

….bathing in the rain!

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It is exactly 12 years to this day that I unilaterally took a leave of absence from my cozy job with one of the globally recognised brands in the banking/financial industry to sign up at the orientation/boot camp for the Direct Short Service Corp into the Navy. To many, it would have come across as an act bordering on the vestiges of insanity but for me, I had become completely fed up with the monotony of the regular 9 – 5 and just needed something more adventurous. Being put through the paces was no exercise for the faint-hearted especially after the daily wailing of the bugle interrupted whatever respite I was trying to have. Nonetheless, this was what I wanted.

Today, I have no regrets because from that decision, my life took on so many twists and turns that being in a maze would not be too much of a stretch for the mind. Five years after that decision, my neurological system opted to become autonomous and I plunged headfirst into an unfamiliar world of neuroscience, neurologists, dystonia, myoclonus, sciatica, insomnia. Pain, both external and internal, became constant companions and suddenly my to-do list which included setting up funds for my daughter up to university levels suddenly became just a scrap note. Struggling to understand what and how I had started occupying a niche in the opposite extreme from the fiercely independent, highly analytical and logical fellow to becoming someone who pride meant little or nothing to as I struggled with the simplest of tasks like getting out of bed. It seemed as though there were myoclonus triggers hidden behind every simple chore

I can still recall how unreal it sounded (returning from my weekly visit to the chiropractor) as I boarded a crowded Bus 379 from Ilford to Dagenham, when the driver (bless her soul) turned around in her seat and announced “could somebody please get up and give this disabled man a seat.”….Oh yes, she was referring to me and even though I still did not see myself as being disabled, that was me and the picture people saw. It is kind of crazy when you have these flashbacks and suddenly huge waves of nostalgia tend to drown you. How did I get here? What happened to the detailed plan I had? But there I was, all alone, each day a constant battle raging within my soul as I strove to overcome the limitations of my physical strength. Mind over matter! Mind over matter! The mantra did not seem as easy as it was when I wrote it down or told someone else.

Fast forward to this day, I can attest how topsy-turvy this journey has been and I mark today as a notable one because it has always been about the choices God helped me make each day. Refusing to give into the waiting arms of hopelessness and depression, realising that my life meant more to some other person besides me, that even when the clouds were so dark that it could pass for midnight and the gales of the biting cold winter buffeted me so much, I just had to persevere some more even if it meant calling out to or accepting the help of a stranger. Today, I realise that as many strangers came up to me to thank me for inspiring them, they were infact the very ones who were a source of inspiration to me. Strategically placed by God for times when I wanted to just give up, today they are my family.

From those dark days, the light now shines and yes there are still dark days (obviously) but I look around and realise that the options I had back then are still the same two – quit and sink or struggle as hard as I could and stay afloat. We all go through life and what we eventually become is a reflection of the everyday choices you and I make. That the very bleak times we sometimes face can either be a garment that we get lost in or we can use them as the opportunity to train our eyes to see that tiny glimmer of light ahead. We could use those times to lose the individuality of our person or we could use them to further understand that to every limit and constraint, we still get to call the shot because we all were created for a purpose. We could use those times to understand that we were not created to walk alone as against using it as a benchmark for all the bitterness and pent-up resentment just looking for an outlet.

I woke up today, realising that when it is pouring outside – it presents an ample opportunity for me to just get out there and wash off the grime that has built up from listening to the wrong people. To wash off the grime that comes from basing my actions on thinking that my efforts will always be appreciated. To wash off the grime that comes from succumbing to the heat of the moment and letting scathing words do damage, if I choose to. To wash off the grime that comes from engaging in thankless tasks and expecting other people to be grateful for what I do. Today, as always, I choose not to stop because these very ones are there unwittingly to further propel me to heights yet unknown. The rain will always pour, what we see it as and what we do with it is best left to each person. Notwithstanding what we do with it, it will surely rain and as each peal of thunder reverberates through the heavens and the lightening slashes through the skies, it is up to us to choose on what side of the line we want to stand and live.

Remember that it is in the house of sorrow that much wisdom is learnt and it is in the times of adversity that you best count your friends. For on this journey called life, there will always be a meeting and a farewell and so make every opportunity an event that will never be forgotten.

פרידה עד שנפגשנו שוב בתזמון שלו, וייתכן שאהבתו של אלוהים להיות אמיתית לך!

Adios!