A Perorating Knell…..

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Abducted as a child. Sexually molested as a kid. Witnessed domestic abuse up close. Bullied then learned street survival as a pre-teen. Knocked unconscious by a thrown discus in junior high. Survived an acid bath in high school. Survived two ghastly automobile crashes. Witnessed the violence of religious fanaticism. Been shot at by friend and foe. Betrayed by friend and family. Disillusioned by Lady Justice (oh, she’s blindfolded). Knocked from grace to grass. Saddled with an exotic neurological disease. We each have sullied memories but also démodé is the sincerity of our vulnerability.

Listen

Like most people, still I stand on this side of life, albeit reeling and wheezing from another blindsided body punch. My past played some role in shaping me but it will not and has not defined me, that’s an area where my choice counts and mightily at that. The truth is that I don’t know when my end will come however, what I do know is that even though misery loves company, I’m never going to accept an invitation nor be the celebrant at any ‘event’ of such. I have seen lives lost over little issues and semi-truck sized issues to know that you must make hay during the day because the night when human beings sleep is coming. I have grieved too many times but I know sorrow’s curtain call is still a far distance away, so the journey continues, to a destination that’s beyond my wildest imagination. Therein lies the hope that takes me through each day, good or bad.

Today, I mark another milestone; a unique gift that can only come from One Giver. I am blessed with another year and even though I don’t like surprises, He’s got a huge sense of humor and whatever the circumstances are, I know He knows my name and He’s not done with me yet. Today is a permutation of variables that I would never have imagined, yet I stand, not by my own strength (heck! I can barely get out of bed most days without assistance). I stand, not in arrogance, but in awe of the dexterity of my Maker so I celebrate Him because He alone is the essence of my being. It’s kind of ironic realizing that love hurts and yet, that is a debt we are inexorably obligated to pay to the lives we are given the opportunity to encounter as we each continue on our separate journeys. The irony lies both in the fact that you can obey or be defiant in your stupidity, and that most times the love is never appreciated, least of all reciprocated.

My head and heart hurt but even that cannot cast a pall over the numerous reasons why I must be thankful. Like a friend said, ‘choose to see the glass of water as half full’ so that’s still my choice. The juxtaposition of wisdom in sorrow cannot be comprehended by my feeble mind, neither can my frail body confidently attest to how I am still in one piece and therein lies another reason to be thankful. Every past traumatic event, just like being on a treadmill, burning off the fat and unhealthy parts of me so that I can withstand the current rigors of purposeful living. Today I have lost more friends than I ever thought I would have made but it has also revealed the few remarkable ones that remain. Spanning three generations, I see them and I am thankful.

Waft or Wait

What do I say to my Mother India who’s burying the last of her 2 daughters at the end of this week? It is well? Oh most definitely not, but in the face of the stampede we live in, where education is not about the acquisition of knowledge, we stride around with puffed chests and flaunt our ignorance. It is well, yes,……but with my soul! Go figure out how to speak to your soul and allow me relish in the absence of your persona and its associated superfluity of nothingness. There’s an intangible gravity to the word ‘woe’ so I always use it with trepidation, it does not convey the same tenuousness as sad or sorrow. However, I am in no way embarking on a pseudo intellectual debate on the shimmer and nitty-gritty of English grammar. ‘Woe to they who trust in the arm of flesh…..’ and right there, that word beginning the sentence is enough to dissipate even the fog of inebriation.

One of my favorite quotes is this, paraphrased, ‘row upon row of rowdy spectators, crowd the vast arena full but there’s only one man who knows and he’s the one to face the bull.’ This year, more than ever, I am going to remind myself first before others who permit me to speak (permit not indulge) that even in the face of stormy waters, I will tell myself this; “it is well….with my soul” and I’d rather you didn’t tell me because you don’t know me. No offense intended, I rarely indulge in soliloquy but those three words to some degree, conveyorize familiarity and I truly don’t know you. Nobody truly does but rather than putting in the work to listen so as to obtain a better purview, we often traipse the path most traveled. It’s easier!

What’s the easiest way to discern a fool? The inexplicable concerted effort of a human being doing the same thing over and over and over, and expecting a different result. This year, I’m constantly going to remind myself that woe betide me if I trust in the arm of flesh. There’s a time and place for everything, a time to be born and a time to die, I choose to entrust God with the time between those events. This year, I’m going to double down on the truth that silence can be golden, ‘if only a fool could his lips sealed….’ he and she would have a sterling career in the undercover world.

I can’t go back and fix the past, neither can I go to the future and set it up just the way I want (tried that and got knocked from grace to grass) however, what I will do, is to make each day count for something. I may be beleaguered on all sides but I will not stop to contemplate calling it quits, rather I’ll strive to ensure that I’m on the right side and make these words into a mantra; ‘MANY are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord will deliver him and her from them ALL!’ That’s how I choose to start this year and I’m inexorably convinced that this will be my best year yet. Sneer all you want, when you want, just be kindly reminded that there’s a spot at my banquet that’s reserved for you.


Remember, even if everyone gives up on you, it changes nothing until you give up on yourself. Enjoy your rest, Temi, till we meet to part no more!

עד שניפגש שוב, מי יתן והפנים שלו ימשיכו לזרוח עלינו לטובה!


Adieu!

The Reverberation of Silence…

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I’ve felt silence, I’ve known it for quite some time but this is so different. Cold, long tendrils wrapping around my soul. This is so different, it’s reverberation is deafening, drowning out all other noises. It’s cold and far from being ethereal. Definitely unwelcome, it’s forced its way in, flaunting and taunting, teasing but staying out of reach. This isn’t the night, this pushes the night just a tad longer and I remind myself that the day is still out there and so weary I may be, that’s the hope I cling to even as the choppy waters churn all around me. Hope seems little but it’s borne my weight so many times.

You can rest easy, mommy

How could it be real, unexpected and unwilling to negotiate? Why does it seem as though the cacophony of the cicadas and the tweet of the birds sound so out of rhythm? Whys cloud my thoughts and their sheer weight force me to my knees. I’ve been knocked down so many times so I’ll try and rise to my feet again even though there’s some comfort in the ground but that’s not what you embodied. Self-belief, esteem, being unstoppable, letting go of the reins and just feeling the wind all around me but it’s still dark and I know I’ll never get the explanation I should seek. The words I’ve used before now sound so shallow to me and though they evade me, your lessons still stand out.

Countless times, you gave of yourself, not once holding back and even in our differences, you still commanded the respect you so rightly earned and nobody could ever hold it back. A matriarch in every letter of the word, that’s who you were. Reminding me that being different was also good when being different sometimes meant taking that unbeaten path. As long as you saw the positive impact on my life, you never thought it twice. Giving and giving and given but the scales are uneven, why am I short? Every laborer is deserving of her wages, who’s fit to collect yours.

‘Stand for something’, you’d always say. ‘Embrace change because life and change are almost synonymous.’ ‘Go out there and from your experiences, pick that which suits you best’. Knowing that you raised us right, you were liberal even when loving meant punishing. Now I think I have a clue to some of your utterances – ‘nobody is perfect’, ‘we’re all flawed in one-way or the other but ensure to make your life count for something’ are a few that readily come to mind. You were there whenever I called and so I know this silence isn’t the evil to be scared of. It’s just the feeling that gnaws at my heart as I stare at this unbalanced scale, not able to do more now. Could I have asked for a better mother? That I can confidently answer.


Now I stare in consternation at the fragility of life and I know you lived for something – you lived for your brood. Unafraid that we would be snatched up by the birds of prey because of how grounded you made me. And now even though I know that those scales can never even out but still I must carry on the legacy you represented – that dignity and honor isn’t about what you can buy but what you choose to attain. A lifestyle unique in its own way. So I must pass on more than you taught, without repugnance in any form. Yes it’s hard to turn the other cheek but it’s not about what I think is right but to do what is right irrespective of interpretation or perspective. You made your brood your life work and now as you rest in the room well prepared for you in heaven, I choose to honor you by acknowledging that apologizing doesn’t make me the smaller man.

Of the many lives you so passionately shaped, I can still hear the anguish as your absence sinks in. Encouraging and understanding, you were never a pit boss whose skill was in the dexterity of her card shuffling. You hated gambling anyway but I must acknowledge that you raised 6 kids in arguably one of the roughest cities and today we all stand in different cities and continents to honor you. That is what you deserve at the very least. Thank you mommy! For all the sacrifice, ‘thank you”. For all the pain unwillingly caused, ‘I’m sorry mommy’ but now I still hear you say, ‘not everyone can be like you but remember that all of God’s creation have one head just as you do.’

Adieu mommy! Let us take this on and run with it so that generations ahead will have a piece of you in their hearts. I love you, rest easy!

Staying True…..

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Staying True

In a few weeks, we will be saying farewell to 2017 and ushering in, with bated breaths and the hope of better things to come, a brand new year. And again as usual, many journals, note pads et al will be whipped out so that the annual yet publicly unrecognized event of New Year Resolution writing will begin. For me, it is a time of evaluation, assessment and preparation because what future will there be to look forward to if we are still perplexed as to our purpose here on earth. Has the dystonia been cured? Nope! Are there new proven medical approaches towards ending this relentless battle with dystonia? Not to my knowledge but the ultimate question I ask myself is “what was there to be thankful for?” And my answer is, much more than I anticipated because it is really not about if my eggs were scrambled right or my account balance is quite ‘attractive’, it is about realizing that I have been through 365 days and still standing.

I recently unearthed my quotes book from one of my many traveling bags, brown and well thumbed, ink slightly fading (thank God I used red and green ink) and the first question my daughter asks me is, “Daddy, can I keep it?”……..Uhmmm! Of course not, you have more writing and reading materials that I had at your age but in that brief exchange, I can truly be grateful for the prayers answered, those pending and those that I received when I didn’t ask for. It is weird when people are taken aback at how leisurely I handle some stuff but then there is always a back story, and it is within those stories that life lessons are passed down from generation to generation. I am not a witness to any man-made life transforming physical attribute, the emergence of an Adonis or the perfect being but I am and will be a witness to the countless things that we take for granted because we are in our carefully carved out comfort zones.

I am thankful for the many friends that have passed through my life, some still there for the long haul while others have moved on as their life purposes direct them. I want to without permission talk about the relationships that have left indelible marks on who I am becoming and as I write I cannot help but marvel at the laurel, awards, certificates that bear my child’s name because she represents the next generation and whilst there is breath in my lungs, together we will journey for as long as I can and even when the wagon wheels fall off and I am unable to put them back on, I know that there’s help just around the corner. One thing I do not mind telling her everyday is that she is not an option but a priority and I am thoroughly stoked that we journey together and when the time comes for her to leave the nest or for me to transition to grander lodgings, I will proclaim that I do not have any regrets.

For me, regrets are an admission of not being able to retrieve a learning point from every experience and like I tell my few friends, I have seen more than my fair share of curved balls. And so it is not about how hard the balls hit but what they made me acknowledge even as I move on. Photography will always be a hobby of mine and even though it is becoming increasingly difficult to engage in it as much as I would want to but the stories that my pictures tell are worth lifetimes. It is in the brief or prolonged encounter that I have had with the lives that I have been greatly privileged to meet that make me truly say I have no regrets and to a great extent, I have stayed true to who I am, which is just another way of saying that I have tried to walk the paths laid out and defined for me by God. He truly is the bane of truth and no compelling discourse will change the foundations upon which I have built my life.

A couple of weeks ago, I drove through the night with tears cascading down my cheeks because no matter how many tough storms you have been through, the reality is that each storm actually reveals layers that you might never have known existed. And I have learned that even when you are down, you will always find strength to reach out to a friend who is desperately in need. In my opinion, there are those people who for some unfathomable reason are unable to grasp how important they have been to me and so it is not uncommon to tell people that I love them just for who they are. And so the tears were for a friend who is counting down the days to a miracle or to a transition to loftier dwellings. I have since learned the futility of asking why does it seem that bad things happen to good people because I have also realized that it is because those events are suited for a particular cadre of people, who do not even know their own strengths and so inadvertently it is not so much about bad things happening but the evolution and growth of truly unique individuals.

Keep hope alive

I know first hand, what a torrent of feelings you experience when you are told that the medical issue that you have persistently battled with is not going away. It almost seems like a black hole has just opened up in front of you and is desperately tugging at you but what if you refuse to give in and just fight. Sometimes every other person will tell you that it is pointless to do however remember that people did not give up on you, and so even if it’s seeming like your twilight has come, remember that the choice is ours to create memories that will not be so easily forgotten. Even when you are being pummeled and the obvious option is to just give in, remember that there are lives around you and regardless of the time of day, hope is like a little flame that shines through the darkness that seemingly grows in magnitude every day. I may not be as mobile as I used to be however when I realize with stunning clarity the countless privileges I have received, the least I can do is to pay it forward. And so even when it hurts to smile, and you can can barely get up from your bed because the slightest pain causes you to break out in sweat, when it seems like curling up in the fetal position looks quite appropriate, let this fact not escape you – there’s something you can still do.

More often than not the battle of life rages in the mind and so its not about how many iron man competitions you have participated or how many marathons you have run or your ranking in obstacle races, when life hits you – the battlefield rages in your mind and yours only, and as long as you do not give in to the wilting of the mind by focusing on the horrifying monster in front of you, you can still be a beacon of hope. Hope that you live is hope that heals and you may have been written off by people but in the fullness of time, God always comes through on your behalf. That is a message that you must share because in all reality the world is increasingly becoming like the Dead Sea but the sliver of hope that you hold, the little spark of kinder can light someone else’s candle and so that in itself is a purpose and one thing I know is that one of the greatest gifts you can ever have is the opportunity to finish strong. Refuse to let the circumstances around you – the hair loss, the painful torquing of your spine, the inability to keep food down, the weight loss etc do not let them define you because I know you and I have loved every moment I spent with you.

Those moments where your laugh rang out, when your eyes twinkled in mischief, when your company was the only thing that kept me going – there is more than enough for me to treasure you forever. And when you hear that the chemotherapy is not working and your life is reduced to the slowly running out sand in the hourglass, stay true because you may not have gotten all the gifts others take for granted but you still have time to share the tale of a walk with God or the life transforming event that has over the years given you the grace to press on. When the finish line looms ahead, be thankful for being able to run this race, be thankful that you chose to be you because that is who God made. We will never in all entirety have all the answers but there is a certainty that cannot be questioned and that is you were made for a purpose. Cancer may be wreaking havoc in this fragile body but I am glad that I ran alongside with you, I am glad for the sacrifices you made but above all I am glad for the love that we shared, the conflicts we had, the disagreements etc because I can say that I lived amongst angels. This for me is not an eulogy and yes every loss requires grieving however I choose not to dwell on the inevitability of saying farewell because we part today to meet again in a place where sickness, stress, loss, sorrow cannot dwell.

As the night star shines brightly, that is what you will always be to me – an angel, a bright star. Like the balance scale, good will always triumph over evil and even if we do not experience the victory physically, we know without an iota of doubt that there is a future that awaits us where treasure that cannot be defiled by man lies in store for us. A place where man’s opinion does not count, where there are no pity parties – that is the ultimate hope that we have, that’s something that no sickness or nightmarish conditions can take from us and as long as we breathe, every breath is an offering of thanksgiving to a Creator whose best cannot be grasped by our feeble minds. And when the breath ceases, we know for sure that the finish line has been breasted because it is not about how far but how well. Today is a day that I am thankful for and despite the inexplicable relapses that have plagued me in recent weeks, I am still standing and obviously not on my own strength (heck I can barely walk 500 feet without stifling the cry of agony) but on The Source that is inexhaustible, for that I am thankful.

“The great miraculous bell of translucent ice is suspended in mid-air. It rings to announce endings and beginnings. And it rings because there is fresh promise and wonder in the skies. Its clear tones resound in the placid silence of the winter day, and echo long into the silver-blue serenity of night. The bell can only be seen at the turning of the year, when the days wind down into nothing, and get ready to march out again. When you hear the bell, you feel a tug at your heart. It is your immortal inspiration.” – Vera Naz

פרידה עד שנפגש שוב בתזמון שלו עצמו

Adios!