The Beauty of Fellowship

I went to bed a 12:29pm and was up again at 1:00pm … I just couldn’t sleep, and  as I watched my favourite cooking show I found myself sliding under the blanket to whisper a prayer and thank God for his many blessings that I have received and will receive in the future.

While I lay there reflecting on life I found myself smiling  and then that smile turned into a burst of laughter,  joy bubbled and oozed from every hair follicle on my body. I laughed because of the memories that flooded my bedroom. Street parties , beach runs and encounters with the infamous Great White, movies/games disagreements and resolutions .

The last ten months has taught me so much about myself and how I should treat and choose the relationships I become involved with, sometimes in order to be nice one has to know when to draw the line and let go in order to give the “best of you” to those who truly deserve it, it is also important to live in the moment enjoying the bliss that comes with sharing space and time with others taking with you forever the lessons fellowship teaches.

 

 I met you in a room and I stood in the shadows and watched

Each face told a story ….

I was hesitant because you were different

But each voice sang a song and my ears wanted to listen

 Like roses in a garden we bloomed …

Each petal opening up to the kiss of the sun and gentle caress of rain drops

 

 

 We danced to rhythms not always from our land

Laughed over dinners cooked by our very own hands

Travelled to countries with dinner plates as passports

Discussed topics of importance -stirred controversy  

or sat in silence While the characters spoke

 

Our signature drink became the Great White of the West

It became habitual to seek Wi-Fi at any possible place of rest

And with every week another link was added,

Strengthened through tears and laughter and sometimes anger

 

So…  As we meet in the room, I stand in the shadows and watch

 Each expression so familiar,

I can close my eyes and guess the responses that will be given

Anticipate and perfectly time the bursts of laughter

This time… I’m not hesitant though we are still different

I join in the dance, revelling in your beauty,

 savouring the  sweet nectar from the scared goblet of fellowship

Happy that we’ve had the chance to meet.

Dedicated to Team SLU

Trust & Honesty

 Trust and Honesty are twins that are best when showcased together as one whole, the moment they are separated it changes the dynamics of our space. But can we really handle trust- her being very delicate and fragile ? Are we truly able to face the fists of honesty- him being very strong and often so forceful that diplomacy is thrown out the window?

very often we see trust standing by the bus stop dirty and bruised , dehydrated and in need of care  and kid gloves; and we question the fact the she appears to be homeless and wonder why is it that her value isn't truly seen and appreciated.

like a shot of J Wray and Nephew's over proof white rum Honesty packs a punch, burns your throat after you've swallowed;  you don't feel it a first but give it a few minutes and its all over, its most valued effect is that feeling of wanton freedom. Surprisingly the love for honesty is often face value and he often finds himself alone and lonely seeking acceptance but only find same with the assistance of trust.

I learnt a very valid lesson last  weekend with the assistance of a very dear friend - over proof white rum;  as a people we are clumsy and often treat trust with way less care than she deserves and  abuse her at every chance . Its become such a norm that we don't realize it  and though we love to say honesty is the best policy and be honest at all costs we are never prepared for the sting associated with it.

If we are to be truly liberated by trust and honesty then we have to be prepared to deal with the discomfort of the twins and understand that to be totally consumed by anger is more crippling than helpful.

Can I truthfully ask  Trust and Honesty to be my friends and be truly ok with the responsibility of their friendship and the heft of their weight ? or am I just another hypocrite opening the door to the twin  only to poison their food?

Are you ready to truly be their friend?

The Beauty of a Withering Leaf

Walking home from work recently, a small round leaf that was being carried by the wind blew in my face and just before it fell to the ground I caught it, I had no intention of examining the leaf the way I did but I found that I was drawn to its beauty in a way one would not have expected. 

This tiny leaf had small bumps on it indicating that at some point in time it may have been host to a party insects who might have made it their temporary home, it was half yellow and half brown which meant that death had already taken place and it was experiencing its final stage of withering.

The story this withering leaf told just by looking at it was phenomenal; it had started out as a tiny bud enthusiastic to see the new big wonderful world, enthusiastic about the unknown wanting to see it; and so as it moved from a bud to a tiny leaf it opened itself to the process of photosynthesis basking in the glow of the sun and taking in all the nutrients it could from its mother plant.

  With each day it grew stronger, older and got exposed to several different variables of the life it lived. Each vein going in a different direction; like out stretched palms; fingers eagerly wanting to gently caress the face of definiteness, the fingerprints of life tracing the contours of purpose.

There were nice warm days when the sun was happy and there were days when he was so angry that he forced himself unto her causing bruises and leaving her with sunburn scorches, the rain quenched her thirst, and the wind allowed her to dance and feel free.

 Sometimes all these variables combined together brought her pain in the form of thunder storms and hurricanes twisting and turning her and forcing her to become intimate with the ground.  And at the end of it all when she could take it no more when her time had expired and a new bud pushed its way through tough bark wanting to see the world she had enjoyed with its pain and joys it was her time to go; she had moved from varied shades of green to yellow she was withering away and as she breathed her last breath the wind didn't just allow her to dance and feel free this time it freed her.

I was so blown away by this leaf that I ended up taking it home and placing it among the jewelry on the dressing table, it was to me a treasured piece of jewelry that I didn't want to lose even if it was already dead to the unimaginative dense minds of this world, the processes that had taken place made me reflect on the fact that I was t the leaf enjoying all this big beautiful, ugly world had to offer, its pains , its joys , thunderstorms and hurricanes,  the beauty of a starry sky or the full moon, cool windy days and the summer’s  sunshine. 

 I’m a rarity among women – I actually look forward to birthdays for the main reason that they mean I am a year older (I love age) and hopefully many moons wiser than I was the year before learning from life’s hiccups and understanding that true strength often times means letting go and moving on with true contentment not caring if the rest of the world can comprehend it. 

My being a rarity among my kind has allowed me to look at this leaf with old eyes in that I am able to truly appreciate the process of change ; change not only in the life span of the leaf but change among us .... The fact that no life is given to stagnation, appreciating days of ease and joy and embracing struggles and pain for what they positively represent. 

 And so I salute the beauty of a withering leaf.

Patient Man Ride Donkey

My new job has been teaching so much about me that its scary, the most recent being my ability to "ride donkey". My latest lesson though not much of a surprise is an eye opener to how tolerant of other people I am and how far patience can take you. 

As I write this post I reflect on  the book, Sixth Man written by David Baldacci; it was a thrill to sit in the time machine that transported me to that period in time and watch the story unravel before my eyes.

 From the entire story the thing that stood out the most was the high levels of patience portrayed through out the book by almost every single character. 

These days I find that being patient has many pluses and a few minuses that can be detrimental if there isn't an understanding of how to effectively find balance and manage this level of patience.

Which makes me question just how effective at this I am. Though finding this balance is difficult I am learning to appreciate what it represents  and how it has influenced  and is still impacting my interpersonal skills and ability to make informed decisions. 

Now I can confidently say I understand the old Jamaican saying which was constantly repeated by my grandparents to remind us to be patient..."patient  man ride donkey".