The rocky path…

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“Bless me, Father, for I have erred. My last post was 15 months ago.” How quickly time flies, and the irony in that phrase, is how valuable a resource it is in life, and how minimal an influence we have on it. This brings me to yet again question some of the cliché statements, we so quickly utter without actually giving it some thought. “When you eat with the devil, ensure that you do so with a long spoon.” Why on earth would you even want to dine with the devil? “The devil you know is better than the angel you don’t know.” Yet again, how and where on earth, would you categorize good and evil as not just being equals, but we push the limits even further by inferring that there’s some goodness in evil.

It’s being a while, and I apologize however, I still write, but I just started posting directly on Facebook. I decided to come back here because I had auto-renewed the fee, but more importantly, as I watched the darkness of the night gradually give way to the dawn and light of a new day, I could see my kids in slumber because we decided to go camping yesterday. One about to leave the nest, and the other about to be thrust into the maelstrom that usually qualifies life. Each representing a dynasty, each unique and yet different, but the love that so tightly binds them together being tested severely and all I can do is watch, unable to do anything but trust the One who made me, and has kept me thus far even when I really contemplated the insouciance of the struggles, the fights, and the unrelenting pummeling.

I mean it does fill like I can write a few movie scripts from just the events of the last 6 months. “Stay on course, mate” I mutter to myself even as I catalogue events and categorize them, futile in keeping pace with time. I did realize, for maybe the first time, that I cannot move from the front door of where we call home, to the back door in 11 seconds. Screw dystonia, and every malady that plagues man. Well, that’s going to be the subjects of some other posts that I hopefully get to write before I no longer can. Is it fair to call vulnerability a strength? It is impossible for one to have all the answers because we would just re-create the ice age or the era of the caveman. That’s how limited we are, so what’s better than entrusting all of our cares and worries to The One who created all things.

Rocky road

For some reason, as I watched my kids sleep (the next generation, my descendants) and mused over recent events, I was thrust back to memories about 40 years old. I was raised Roman Catholic, and so the first sentence was paying homage to that. We would wake up by 5am, usually with the help of the rod of correction. Nothing, I can assure you, drives sleep away faster than the painful lash of the whip. How different today is, kids sleep in on weekends, corporate punishment and discipline are on the verge of becoming extinct with the tweaking that society compels you to do, as a parent. Oh, yes, back then, sleeping in wasn’t even imagined, least of all having a vestige of what it is today. Thank you, 7Up, the difference is clear.

Even on weekends, we woke up by 5 am and then we would herd out to the sitting room, of course after making your own bed, and we would say or pray or recite the rosary. No offense meant to my brethren under the authority of Pope Leo XIV. Weekends usually meant there was time to say the Joyful, Sorrowful & Glorious mysteries, that’s 15 beads comprising of 3 recitals of 5 beads. Then, my dad would read or have one of us read a page from ‘Just a Moment Please!’ by J. Maurus and then we would ‘discuss’ it and round up family devotion with a prayer from one of the many prayer books. Then it was off to the races, each of us going to the section of the house where your chore demanded your presence. The external chores were dreadful, but I remember this story.

A man watched a farmer harvest his potatoes and just throw them into the cart with the donkey hitched and patiently waiting, in what seemed like a very disorganized manner. It bothered this man so much because he knew sorting it would be better because it could be sold faster, that he politely asked the farmer why he was not sorting them first. The farmer took a break, looked at the man and responded, “Oh, I always take the roughest road to the market and by the time I arrive at the market, it would be sorted.” The man thought about it and asked for more clarification. “Oh, I take the roughest path, because with every bump, the potatoes would move and ultimately by the end of the trip, the largest ones would have made their way to the bottom and the smaller ones would remain on top.”

The fascinating thing about the explanation was that farmers back then were usually not very educated but today schools charge an arm and a leg to ‘teach’ what the farmer was already applying; the law of gravity, Newton’s laws of motion etc. And till today, I’ve never forgotten the ‘moral’ of the story (usually real life events) and the moral for the day. You see, life is that rough road and we are the potatoes. Every obstacle we face; separating men from boys, the strong from the weak, the leaders from the followers. However ,the true takeaway is that the big ones get to the bottom because they can bear the weight of the smaller ones without being crushed. Till this day, the objective of society is emphasis on getting a ‘better’ bargain and so most people choose to sorting, putting the smaller ones at the bottom so that you get a ‘better’ bargain.

Cart of potatoes

At first glance, the cart looks great with large potatoes but at the bottom are crushed potatoes, and that by any standard is a bad purchase. We can not live life without figuring and accepting our identity and purpose. Some of us are made strong, not so that we flaunt it or bully others weaker than us, but rather to help elevate them. We’re blessed with wealth, not to have men kowtow and gravel before you, but so that with those blessings and riches, you pull others up and empower those who are in need. It’s a difficult concept and thus John Ruskin captures it aptly, “A man wrapped up in himself, makes a small package.” Each day, we get to choose how we impact the lives we encounter as we bounce around on life’s rough road. We must choose what is more important to us, getting a better bargain through deceit or getting a better bargain by selling the smaller potatoes first.

Oh, not again, why are his posts so grave and serious? Well, my friend, I talk about life and my experiences, I’m not a circus owner, so do forgive me because my objective is to help at least one person who reads this. I want you to know that I see you, and I may not understand what you are going through at the moment, but I can say to you, “Keep your chin up, and never give up because life is not fair.” The market is closer than you think, and all the soreness, all the pain, all the anguish, is about to end as long as you don’t give up. You have got value, and if you have been told contrary all your life, take this one statement from one who has been through stuff that you can not even imagine, “You are valuable!”

I’m in no way saying that my road is rougher than yours, that would be ignorance, all that I am saying is that you are in charge of your life. You’re the only one whose decisions really count because you’re going to face the consequences of your decisions. So stop, take a breath, look around, smell the fragrance of the flowers, listen to the twittering of the birds, and remind yourself that the future will always be better than today, as long as you don’t bring the mistakes of the past into today. Today’s all we have, let us make it count for something great because there’s someone out there that could use a smile, a kind word or a hand extended in assistance. Remember that you have a smile, a means of communication and a limb, prosthetic or not.

Adieu!

עד שניפגש שוב, תרימו את הראש ותחייכו אל הסערה!

In my armour….

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Full Armor

Every armor has a weakness, so choose where you place your trust

There are mountains high enough to prevent you from seeing the hope in the future. There are valleys so low that they completely drain you of the will to push on. We are all sojourners on this earth and just like everyone of us is distinct so are the trials, triumphs and testimonies that we each get to face in the seasons of our lives. It’s not about bemoaning the lack (anyone can do that), it’s truly about recognizing the lack and responding appropriately to filling it. Today, with temperatures still climbing and a heart still beating, I am once again reminded of the transient nature of life and what we choose to call priorities. Jousting is so often associated with the medieval times that the essence in modern times is completely overlooked. A warrior is one skilled in the art of warfare and more often than nought, his skills are required in battles that are not always of his choosing.

Bedecked in full armor, mounted on a war horse, he faces foes on all sides and even as it is still employed in today’s battles, he must find a chink in the protective gear of his foe. Ironically, it’s the same approach that his foes take, because they know without the slightest doubt, finding and exploiting that chink could very well be the determining factor in what separates the victor from the vanquished. In a bid to ameliorate or possibly eliminate completely any chances of being bested, so much effort is put into protecting that chink because every armour has one. However as we channel all our efforts into staying safe, we fail to realize that victory is not obtained by being safe but by recognizing our vulnerabilities and making them be an expression of our humanity.

I had the pleasure of meeting a friend and his daughter, both from The Republic of Congo, as she had come to spend the summer holidays with him. Yes, another victim of a broken relationship but besides that what else can be seen? I saw a beautiful young lady, probably irreparably scarred but still aware enough to pause her farewell to me and utter these words, “thank you Daddy!”. Just those three words said in that unpretentious sincerity you can always find in a child, made me quietly acquiesce to myself that there’s so much to be thankful for and yet so little of thanking that we do. Prior to her uttering those words, I saw a little girl hurting from her inability to understand what she was going through. Why she had to have both parents in different parts of the world? Why did she have just a little time to spend with loved ones before she returned back to commence a new session of school. In the course of interacting with her, I could discern the resentment because I too have been through similar circumstances. Not just as a child but also as a father, and without allowing Nyela to focus so much on what she was ‘losing’, I made her realize how much her father loved her. That was what birthed those three words, “thank you Daddy!” and as she emerged from my truck, there was a spring to her step and a lightness in her voice. That transformation took place in the space of 7minutes 42seconds, just because she allowed herself to listen to me and appreciate the beauty of the moment.

I tell people, as often as I can, without coming across as a kibitzer that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but an evidence of our humanity. When we spend so much time hiding our ‘weakness’ from others, we inadvertently fail to realize the primary reason for our existence – to love another just as much as we love ourselves. Proding and prising apart, searching for the chink in another’s armour is time that could be better spent in standing with another and facing the odds we all must face. It is not an expression of wisdom when we hurl ourselves headlong into battles that could be avoided, instead of forming positive alliances with the soul next door with the objective of running this race and finishing well. A recurring question I always have to deal with when I’m privileged to meet someone who has never heard of dystonia before is “How do you cope with it?” Honestly, because of how often I’m asked, I’m pretty sure that if I were suddenly roused from sleep, my answer would still be the same. I do not cope with it, I’m too focused on making each new day count for something better that it’s only the incessant twinges of pain that remind me of this unending battle with dystonia.

I’ve learned that focusing on helping someone else is more fruitful than reeling out a litany of how my body feels. If I cannot change it, why bother complaining about it, because the sad reality is there’s already enough sadness in the world. You have to make a choice between seeing if your own worries will lighten the already overburdened lives around you or trying to alleviate the present pain and sorrow around you. Pushing your pains and worries to the back burner so that you can make room to assist another person who has just been severely knocked off his horse. Yes, we need to guard ourselves but when guarding yourself overshadows the ability to help another, then I would recommend a rethink in strategy. No army is only made up of one warrior, no team of one ever exists however there is so much strength in the unity of diversity. Wisdom, in my opinion, is realizing that a battle is raging on around us and yet we concentrate on building a chain of lives through love, kindness and hope. That collective armor is what will stand true when charge upon charge by our foes hit our ranks.

There is nothing built by man that in indestructible however that which is built by God is. So the choice in where you decide to put your trust in, is entirely up to you. Today, I may not have the resources to give to one in need but what I have is a shoulder to lean on, ears attentive to listen and company for a little while as you journey on. Diversity is what transforms a chaotic puzzle into a beautiful picture and regardless of how impenetrable you think you are, you will need someone else when your storms hit. And so whilst I am committed to burnishing my armor, I am also keen to recognize that not only can I not stand alone, I am here to be a support to someone else. Sometimes, a simple walk in the park holds much more value than a space trip to Mars. The battle is not to the strong, neither is the race to the swift, it is God’s mercies that will ultimately prevail. And if we are recipients of such an awesome gift, why should it be only about you. I reckon, each day, that every blessing I receive is something that can be shared and so with that realization firmly impressed upon my heart, I will always find the courage to press on. Each new day, an amazing gift by itself, is yet another opportunity to stand alongside fellow sojourners and warriors so that together we can beat the odds.

As I remember the victories of today, I am certainly convinced that love, hope and faith are indispensable companions for me. It will never be about how high a stack of corpses you left in your path, rather it will be about how much inspiration you have shared on your path. I may not be able to bring to completion that dream of yours but I most definitely can ensure that the moments we shared will never be forgotten. Life will always be a catalogue of events and as we sail through life’s turbulent waves, some of those memories are the nuggets of indestructible hope that will keep us going. I have always believed that a life devoid of hope is a life that is desperately in need of some love and it never ceases to amaze me how beautiful a rocky path can become when there are lilies growing by it, but those lilies have to be planted first. It is not always about how grand your gesture of magnanimity is, instead it is about how sincere in well doing you are. It is often in the intricate tiny stitches of a woven garment that you find the greatest amounts of love. No matter how fortified you think you have made your armor, someday you most definitely have to get out of it. The question then would be, ‘What awaits you when you have shed your armor? Friends by your side or a gathering mass of individuals who don’t care about what you know.’

Remember, ‘The destiny of man is to unite, not to divide. If you keep on dividing you end up as a collection of monkeys throwing nuts at each other out of separate trees’ – T.H White

עד ניפגש שוב, תן את היופי של ארשת שלו לזרוח עלינו

Adios!