a daylight dream

Sometimes, I just really want to scream. On days like this, a weekend, when I’m supposed to be resting, having slow mornings, joy bubbling around the corners of a day filled with intentional peace and slowness. On days like this, though, I just want to  scream . I want to scream for I’m facing my own restlessness in him. I’m staring at it, right in the eye, and it hurts. Oh God, it’s tearing me apart. It’s slicing my nerves, my veins and everything with stitches me together. It hurts to see him pacing the first thing in the morning, fixing up things around the house, just trying to do something other than being still. Just today, we spent the whole day fixing up something in the kitchen, and I was fuming, watching him being so nervous, doing things recklessly, mess all around us; that kind of mess which breaks the heart and confuses the mind with all sort of wrong scenarios. I was observing him, helping whenever I could. But inside, I just wanted to scream at him to wake up. I want...

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...