a daylight dream

Oh, November, you’ve been so sweetly still. I left October with a heart stoned with the misery of faithlessness in my life path. You have rekindled it with so much graceful aliveness, enthusiasm and love after all what had proved otherwise. My most treasured lesson this November was to be rooted in my center of control, abiding by the littlest baby steps I can take to make a difference. I learned much more about myself, and it’s vastly evident that I cannot live without a purpose and a clear mission to serve. My heart and whole body instantly wilt when it seems that there is nothing to work hard for and serve in this lifetime. And that is exactly what had happened to me when I took too much time to investigate what is causing all this ruckus in children’s minds and dispositions. I felt like I was helpless and powerless in the face of all these variables and externalities. It took vulnerability and a time of painstaking uncertainty to truly surrender my efforts and let go of my ego, whi

How much changes when you surrender to the beauty of unfolding potentials within intentions, and have faith that they have been bestowed upon your heart with clarity for a reason beyond comprehension. I made an intention last June to serve my learners through art a little bit more this academic year. I didn’t know why it would be important, and even though I have read countless articles and have seen a lot of videos commending art in learning, I never thought it would be that exceptionally revealing. My co-teacher, who is an artist, has suggested using art to introduce figurative language in speaking and writing. Despite not knowing how to start, it didn’t hurt to try. Through poetry and pictorial content, we dedicated 45 minutes to simply describing the wind through art. It was heart-shattering to witness the impact of that lesson, and I am quite sure that the invisible impacts are far more overarching and too inscrutable to perceive. I was most worried about my rebellious class, and

I want to share a little entry I had written back in May 2017, titled “Knowing”. “Do I choose the obscurity?  My heart tells me to. My heart tells me to choose what's mysterious and thrilling and let go of the securities in everyday life. It's hideous to acknowledge the fact that our life is based on numerous versions of security; of food, health and wellness when in fact, we all know that those are the things we will lose first, given the circumstances. Oh, societies are such fickle structures, defying reality's common sense. Perhaps the stability we dream of is what disappoints us, leads us to make compromises for so many years, awaiting success and peace when all we get is a burning yearning sensation in our hearts, asking us when we shall stop securing? When shall we let things be? But there are things like love, courage and faith that acquire the spontaneity. And those are moments when we experience sleepless nights, not ready to let go of things we kept secure, in ord

This world is coming to an end, I know. Signs ascertain that the little ruptures at the seams of breakthroughs will not only be followed by remarkable happenings but deeply tormenting ones, too. It is alienating to notice how worrying things are on the earthly side of life. Today, I was trying to convince a couple of boys in my class that touching people’s bodies, especially in the context of hitting girls, is a wrong thing to do, and they were not convinced. They thought one little hit did not hurt at all. Well, everything happening on the outside just confirms the certain nudges I had towards particular ways of living. For example, choosing not to have a TV at home. Goodness, I think it’s the TV being turned on most of the time is that has caused people to accept violence and crossing boundaries when the eyes are accustomed to seeing people fight and shoot profanities so ordinarily. Also, the nudge towards living outdoors more, interacting with wildlife and ‘real’ people stands to re

  I’m putting on my first socks on the season today. I had expected the cold to arrive rather earlier and knock on the door faintly before flooding in, but it’s alright. It had been welcome for many years now, without the fear or the anxiety that comes dreadfully used to come along with it. I simply want to reiterate how it feels to see life become a mirror of the weirdest and most bizarre notions that have stuck to my side since the very beginning. I’ve always had nudges towards certain philosophies to stand by and respect, despite them creating such a ruckus in real-life terms. In September, I almost gave up at the amount of criticism I had received from following my philosophy somewhat religiously, even when I was so close to changing my ways and falling into the rabbit hole of complacency. To be naively illustrative, I always stand for having a considerable level of noise in my classes, reflecting enthusiastic chatter, which may also be off-topic, as long as everyone’s working in t

It’s an unexpected, surprising day off. The diminishing hours of the day feel so long, thrusting their enchanting beauty in every cleft between minutes, and terrifyingly dragging on to the noon’s gentle rays. The sun looks quite unearthly in November, when it does shine so flamboyantly, upon a night of rain and windfall. I took a few moments to check this blog’s earliest entries, and I was rewarded with nothing but a heartbeat elevating questioningly, even curiously so. This very armchair I am sitting on has bred some of those deepest, melancholic thoughts I had phrased out five years earlier. I had nothing but dreams, which I had described as troubled and despondent, when they’d climb up the walls of my being, filling me with inscrutable awe and unshakeable fears that I’d never grow enough to realize them. A part of me feels incredible sympathy for the girl I used to be. My heart feels so torn at how I’ve grown, it feels as if it were a miracle set into motion with every entry, with e