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...

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 ...

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...

Intimate is the view beyond this curved window, where the airplane blinks frivolously against the enchanting lights at sundown. Presence fills the gaps in the unknown terrains of my mind: trust, faith and unprecedented belief that all is guided and smoothened by God’s wisdom. I left the airport this time without a single tear. I hugged my family tightly, told them not to worry, that we would be in touch, that sometimes presence is ethereal and loving despite the distance. We parted with little tears and lots of unconditional love marking the footprints between us. It’s different this time. There is much more equanimity, very little fear brims the corners of this unknown. There is this peace I’ve been longing for since forever— this peace of mind, not needing to create further than God’s will, a crystalline heart shimmering with knowingness in all the beauty that lies in paths made for, and of, selfless service. I think it’s the first time that the balance did not tip. The balance hangs...

It is August ending, at last, and with it, summertime memories of this year end, too. It makes me quite weary to notice how time flies and new beginnings are simply thursted onto our palms, like persistent invitations. Sometimes, I want things to last a little longer, just to spend a few more days in reverence and appreciation for all what has been and all what hasn't. August was not as enchanting, but it left me enchanted. I close this month feeling so much enchantment and appreciation for life's spellbinding miracles. It was quite disheartening to spend so many rainy days feeling dull and dampened, there were also a few family issues that I stood helpless and powerless before. My parents decided to close this summer with so much resentment and anger, and for a while I thought I would do that, too. However, I caught myself a little earlier and chose to open my heart again to love sincerely, capture the blessings and focus my whole existence on the little things I have faith in...

Now, those are the moments that I truly cherish these little things that are often unrecognisable, blurred in a background of static. An echo of laughter from the other room, the kettle boiling, gentle creaks of the floors and the swooshing cupboard doors. It’s these days that life before me becomes vibrant to observe, even overwhelming. I see it all but it doesn’t find a way to get inside of me, and I’m not an active participant— I just stay still and watch it all, a window in my heart sealed tightly. I smile before my sister’s wildness, her sloppy ways of being. I watch my father joke insanely, filling the house with her screams erupting with genuine laughter. I observe how the sunlight touches the furniture so wondrously, and glimmers catch my eye with meanings and beautiful revelations. Sometimes it feels as though my heart has toughened from all the things I have to keep outside of it. There is much to shield and I’m always on guard, deciphering what to let in and what to keep out...