My life seems to be an ode to how alone one person can be. The tagline for the movie could be 'How many lessons will it take?'
I know that being alone - both in terms of having my own space and time, and in being independent with no shackles - is what I want. But sometimes getting what you what you want doesn't feel so good if you don't have anyone to share it with. Which is a significant problem here, I guess.
I am prone to melodrama and catastrophising but in recent times have learned that the hysteria will pass and I won't feel so terrible or think the same things in a few hours' time. However, on my drive home last night I had a few moments of realisation of pure truths. I escaped my parents' place in the dark while everyone was in the living room, uncles and aunties discussing stuff they have very little right to and with very little grace - I felt like such a rebel, sneaking my laundry out by the side gate (it's always locked but I got lucky) and closing my car door as quietly as possible.
Anyway, in between the midnight crying and feeling sorry for myself, I realised that as angry and intolerant as I am, there are very few people I don't respect at least to some extent. And once I lose respect for someone, there is just no coming back (a bit Darcy coming through here haha). It takes me forever and so very many incidents to realise how despicable someone is. I don't know if this is good because I give people chances, or if it's tragic because I'm so desperate to feel safe with good people around me that it takes me ten times as long to learn a lesson. I think perhaps the latter.
The other thing I realised with perfect clarity is that I really am alone in my corner. I have no one I can call at midnight to cry, or anyone who will understand the family dynamics and cultural context. A lot of us are lucky enough to grow up with a present family around us. Some of us are perpetually unhappy with our families, and it takes us decades to realise it because of one or two people who have no kindness or thought for anyone but themselves. Last night, I was attacked and dragged for asking a fairly simple question, by my mother, an aunt, uncles - all people who are supposed to teach and love. My father didn't step in. My sisters couldn't speak up because the same treatment awaited them. I had no one to call on my way home, and there is literally no one in my life who will understand the cultural and family ways. I can't protect my siblings anymore, and in reality, I'm not sure I have ever been able to protect them from the family. No one should need protection from their own family.
It all made me question how I could be 27 years old with no friends and support network. No older person to ask for wisdom, no group of friends who will let me feel sorry for myself and tell me I can join their family. This total isolation is a little more freeing now, in the daylight. I have always wanted to know that I can just pack a backpack and take off if I needed to. And having no close ties to anyone makes it easier to leave people behind. My friends won't miss me (tragic but also oddly comforting because it leaves room for hope that one day I will find people who will miss me). I only go back to my parents' for my siblings, and now that they are growing up and moving on, and I realise there is nothing I can do to help them and I am not needed anymore, I think that maybe I will feel less guilty for staying away in the future. I will always love and miss my siblings, but my presence doesn't help anyone, and I seem to attract criticism and yelling whenever I'm there, so it almost feels like I'm doing them a service for not going back.
I think I'm showing a bit of bravado right now, but we'll see how long I can last on my own. Humans are social creatures, and for all of my desperate need to be totally self-sufficient, I, too, need people.
In view of having no one to vent to, I suppose I will have to whinge here more frequently. I don't really know who I'm writing this for, except that typing is easier than handwriting (I have a tremor in my hands now that just won't go away) and if my house burns down or I have to run away with only what I can carry, I won't have to worry about losing the books I've poured my feelings into. Nothing ever really disappears online, does it? Also there is a part of me that still secretly dreams of the day people discover my writing and most excellent life and my blog attracts a cult following and attention from anonymous users will gratify my ego.
Let's leave the pity party here, for now.
Peace and love,
S.
Showing posts with label social. Show all posts
Showing posts with label social. Show all posts
Sunday, August 13, 2017
Friday, June 16, 2017
Distances halved by daydreams and memories.
My friendship style is very much of the 'love from a distance and hope they notice me/think of me as much I think of them' variety.
For every year that I have been out of high school, I have met one, maybe two, awesome people (and a lot of other adequate/inadequate/etc) people. That's about 10 all up. They each come from a different circle, different time in my life, different everything, and are a testament to beauty and good you find no matter what situation you find yourself in. And each one of them is worth the thousands of other people I had to wade through.
There are also a handful of people I desperately want to be good friends with, but they have a tight circle of friends around them, like a moat refusing entry to the grand prize. But I think about these people and how good they are and how much I admire them and sometimes I imagine conversations with them, and for now that seems to be enough. It's nice to have things that make your heart smile randomly as you scroll through your newsfeed or think about all of the people in your cohort or whatever. I feel a genuine excitement when I see/hear news of their successes, adventures, getting married, having fun on a day out, whatever it is. And as selfish as this sounds, I also take this feeling as a win for me, because it proves to the self-loathing part of me that I am capable of selflessness, that I can be uncompromisingly happy for others.
With my closest friends - and more accurately, people whom I consider to be my closest friends even though we may not see each other for years at a time - I constantly think about them when I see something they might like, a book they recommended, a place I went with them, a conversation we had. I have the best of intentions in writing to them, catching up, etc. but am always held up by something - I want to give the letter my full attention and I can't when I'm in a stroppy mood. I want to go somewhere fun with them but I don't want to ruin their mood because I can't be fun when I'm like this. And so on, and so on. So many excuses.
But really, these handfuls of pure people are always in my heart and on my mind. I want to be a worthy friend. And I need to be a good companion before I drag them into my mess because otherwise it's just unfair on them. I know that's not really how friendship works, and I would be honoured for any and all of them to pull me into their messes at 3am on the day of my most important exam, because there is nothing more beautiful and fulfilling than someone else seeing something in you that you struggle to see yourself - the fact that you have some good to give and that you can be the person that this friend deserves.
A lot of these reflections are really selfish, and that in itself is another reason that holds me back from constantly running after these friends. I don't want to be in it just because it makes me feel good - although friendship - like any good relationship - basically comes to this - how good you feel being of use to this person.
Sometimes when I am in the pits of despair and loneliness, I list out the names of these people who I stalk and love from a distance and it pulls me right out into the sunshine. This person had something kind to say to me just once - and it is still enough to make me teary-eyed - and for a strong independent woman to see some worth in you makes you feel like maybe you DO have some worth. It all sounds so cheesy (and not in a good way) and it's a bit odd trying to express this sentiment to someone - that thinking about them makes you happy even though you only speak once a year. And it's hard to convey how much of an impact they have had on you - and continue to have - because you never know if the depth of friendship and admiration you feel is reciprocated. But this is one situation in which laying your heart bare is easy, regardless of the consequences. I think this might be love, but I'm not sure. I don't know you can call all deep feelings a reductive label of 'love'. Also be love alone isn't enough. There's respect, and wonder, and gratefulness, and looking up to this person, and knowing that if they wanted a kidney you would hand over your best one, no questions asked.
They are almost like family. My siblings are my wolf-pack, and the rest are my tribe, and some people make it really close, if not into, my wolf-pack. And my tribe is my pride, and my home, and my legacy (if I die tomorrow, these are the people who I got to convince of my worthiness), and what has given my life honour and meaning. Sometimes it takes a single act of kindness or integrity - towards me or observed from a distance - for someone to be initiated into my tribe. These are the people I want to emulate, and the ones whose love and respect would mean the world to me, even if it is all ever from a distance. They don't know I have pulled them into my tribe, but I see them from a distance and I recognise my own.
So really, distance - in time or in location - isn't much of a barrier. People move on and change, but I remember that one text you sent me when I was feeling really down, or that time you said hello to me when I walked into a crowded room of people I didn't know and wanted to run away, or you were the only person not to treat me like a terrifying Other who represents 2billion muslims, or you just let me cut in front of you in a grocery line. Those tiny acts of kindness, integrity, and generosity of spirit are all helping me to see myself with softness, and to believe in the inherent good nature of people. And that is easing two of my biggest burdens, just like a good friend does. So again, and again and again, thank you. And I am always thinking of you. In the least creepy way possible.
I cry over anything and everything, but crying over good things is a new phenomenon (sort of like how I've started vomiting since I got that ughhh cough a few months ago and now I can't stop, but in a good way). Might take a break from sappiness now.
Peace and love,
S.
For every year that I have been out of high school, I have met one, maybe two, awesome people (and a lot of other adequate/inadequate/etc) people. That's about 10 all up. They each come from a different circle, different time in my life, different everything, and are a testament to beauty and good you find no matter what situation you find yourself in. And each one of them is worth the thousands of other people I had to wade through.
There are also a handful of people I desperately want to be good friends with, but they have a tight circle of friends around them, like a moat refusing entry to the grand prize. But I think about these people and how good they are and how much I admire them and sometimes I imagine conversations with them, and for now that seems to be enough. It's nice to have things that make your heart smile randomly as you scroll through your newsfeed or think about all of the people in your cohort or whatever. I feel a genuine excitement when I see/hear news of their successes, adventures, getting married, having fun on a day out, whatever it is. And as selfish as this sounds, I also take this feeling as a win for me, because it proves to the self-loathing part of me that I am capable of selflessness, that I can be uncompromisingly happy for others.
With my closest friends - and more accurately, people whom I consider to be my closest friends even though we may not see each other for years at a time - I constantly think about them when I see something they might like, a book they recommended, a place I went with them, a conversation we had. I have the best of intentions in writing to them, catching up, etc. but am always held up by something - I want to give the letter my full attention and I can't when I'm in a stroppy mood. I want to go somewhere fun with them but I don't want to ruin their mood because I can't be fun when I'm like this. And so on, and so on. So many excuses.
But really, these handfuls of pure people are always in my heart and on my mind. I want to be a worthy friend. And I need to be a good companion before I drag them into my mess because otherwise it's just unfair on them. I know that's not really how friendship works, and I would be honoured for any and all of them to pull me into their messes at 3am on the day of my most important exam, because there is nothing more beautiful and fulfilling than someone else seeing something in you that you struggle to see yourself - the fact that you have some good to give and that you can be the person that this friend deserves.
A lot of these reflections are really selfish, and that in itself is another reason that holds me back from constantly running after these friends. I don't want to be in it just because it makes me feel good - although friendship - like any good relationship - basically comes to this - how good you feel being of use to this person.
Sometimes when I am in the pits of despair and loneliness, I list out the names of these people who I stalk and love from a distance and it pulls me right out into the sunshine. This person had something kind to say to me just once - and it is still enough to make me teary-eyed - and for a strong independent woman to see some worth in you makes you feel like maybe you DO have some worth. It all sounds so cheesy (and not in a good way) and it's a bit odd trying to express this sentiment to someone - that thinking about them makes you happy even though you only speak once a year. And it's hard to convey how much of an impact they have had on you - and continue to have - because you never know if the depth of friendship and admiration you feel is reciprocated. But this is one situation in which laying your heart bare is easy, regardless of the consequences. I think this might be love, but I'm not sure. I don't know you can call all deep feelings a reductive label of 'love'. Also be love alone isn't enough. There's respect, and wonder, and gratefulness, and looking up to this person, and knowing that if they wanted a kidney you would hand over your best one, no questions asked.
They are almost like family. My siblings are my wolf-pack, and the rest are my tribe, and some people make it really close, if not into, my wolf-pack. And my tribe is my pride, and my home, and my legacy (if I die tomorrow, these are the people who I got to convince of my worthiness), and what has given my life honour and meaning. Sometimes it takes a single act of kindness or integrity - towards me or observed from a distance - for someone to be initiated into my tribe. These are the people I want to emulate, and the ones whose love and respect would mean the world to me, even if it is all ever from a distance. They don't know I have pulled them into my tribe, but I see them from a distance and I recognise my own.
So really, distance - in time or in location - isn't much of a barrier. People move on and change, but I remember that one text you sent me when I was feeling really down, or that time you said hello to me when I walked into a crowded room of people I didn't know and wanted to run away, or you were the only person not to treat me like a terrifying Other who represents 2billion muslims, or you just let me cut in front of you in a grocery line. Those tiny acts of kindness, integrity, and generosity of spirit are all helping me to see myself with softness, and to believe in the inherent good nature of people. And that is easing two of my biggest burdens, just like a good friend does. So again, and again and again, thank you. And I am always thinking of you. In the least creepy way possible.
I cry over anything and everything, but crying over good things is a new phenomenon (sort of like how I've started vomiting since I got that ughhh cough a few months ago and now I can't stop, but in a good way). Might take a break from sappiness now.
Peace and love,
S.
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
If this is punk, then punk isn't dead.
Dear (especially muslim) punks that came before me, and to those yet to be born,
This is some of the story behind my eyebrow piercing and the realisations that have come with it.
A few years ago, I paid a professional to put a hole in my face with an 18gauge needle. It was ~years in the making, but also came at a point of great pain and emotional turmoil (details of the anguish of 3rd year med in the absence of friends and people of integrity may be provided elsewhere).
Rewind to several years before that. First year med. A housemate told me that I seemed really soft and nice from a distance, 'then you get to know you and it's...". I had never before associated qualities of softness and gentleness with my external appearance. Sure, I was fat and gross and grumpy, but nothing different or more. Over the next few years, I experienced an extraordinary amount of islamophobia, racism, misogyny, and generally inadequate and offensive judgements from my peers and teachers and patients and randoms. There's not really much I can do about this. I can talk and talk and talk but the first and only thing people taken in is the Otherness of my appearance. Plus the value judgement that being short and fat makes me kind and jolly like Santa and obviously desperate for everyone's acceptance.
So when I had a metal wire shoved into my face, aged 25, it was both an outlet and an exploration of identity. I noticed that people did a bit a double-take when they looked at/spoke with me. One man felt the need to point that he 'had trouble reconciling this *gestures to face* with THIS *points to imaginary hijab*". I laughed politely and said 'Haha yeah I get that a lot' but really no one had said that before.
I guess, looking back, that the nail in my brow is a bit of a middle finger to the judgement that comes from within whatever social group I am in - I refuse to be told how to be a good woman of faith and culture - as well as to the outside - for the same reason. It's weird because even though it has the same effect on muslims and non-muslims, the reactions are a bit different. To the average culturally conservative muslim, I am a rebel and a bad influence on their daughter. To the average cracker, I am a confusing entity, because surely I am oppressed but what about the jewel on my forehead?! It's almost daring both sides to make a comment, to try and tell me what to do. And then watch while I roll my eyes so hard they pop out of my skull.
Lol, I sound like a 16 year old. In my defence, my rebellion as a teenager involved collected Harry Potter articles and pictures. Need to make up for lost time.
I had planned this entry to be a bit more profound when I came up with it in the car earlier. Ah well.
I guess the point I was coming to was that I am both a cliche and a rebel, and I give props to all those who have walked this road before me, and good luck to those who may follow a similar path. I don't have many answers, but it does make my petty heart happy when a narrow-minded sod notices my eyebrow bar and is suddenly unsure of how to interact with me. I am torn between wanting people to feel comfortable to talk to me, and really hating it when people talk to me, and the piercing is a great way of filtering people out. My uniqueness is not actually unique or special, but in the context of todays discourse around women's bodies, and particularly those of the muslim/woman of colour, my face is a little outside the culturally accepted norm. Also, it is not so much a reflection of my specialness in itself, but a projection of special that I want to be. This is a bit sad and regressive and puerile, but we are what we are. I comfort myself with the thought that at least I use this misfortune for some sort of social commentary and change, and not personal validation alone.
I don't know how punk this really is, but it makes me re-visit my childhood perceptions of punks I saw in books. I wish I could find them and say, I have felt that pain, I have felt that stifling confinement, and I want to fight the good fight alongside you. My struggles in this have softened me somewhat, and for that, I want to say thank you. Thank you for flagging a different method of resistance, thank you for being examples, and thank you for the bravery it takes to stand your ground in the face of a socio-political onslaught of judgement.
Basically, people are really annoying and I don't like being one of them, but since I can't help being one of them, I want to look pretty and have fun in the process.
I don't think any part of this flows or makes any real sense. Perhaps I will come back and flesh it out at some other time. Thanks for bearing with me.
Peace and love,
S.
Sunday, December 11, 2016
I want to write again.
I want to write poetry and philosophise and draw breathtaking conclusions from life's simplest facts. I am out of practise, as noted by whoever marked my last reflective journal for med school, but I think I am ready to start becoming more...just more, I guess. Kind of like the muchness that the Mad Hatter talks about in Alice in Wonderland (not sure it it's just in the recent movie or the book as well, it's been so long since I read it).
I want my life to be more.
Peace and love,
S.
I want to write poetry and philosophise and draw breathtaking conclusions from life's simplest facts. I am out of practise, as noted by whoever marked my last reflective journal for med school, but I think I am ready to start becoming more...just more, I guess. Kind of like the muchness that the Mad Hatter talks about in Alice in Wonderland (not sure it it's just in the recent movie or the book as well, it's been so long since I read it).
I want my life to be more.
Peace and love,
S.
Saturday, December 10, 2016
Baby Elephants and BAMFs.
I found out that I failed the year I have just repeated. I would have needed a 45 to qualify for re-sits but I managed a 44. Disappointing.
The grief and disappointment comes in waves, a new panic each time. Deep breaths and distractions.
I know that Allah (swt) has a plan, nothing happens without a reason, and I'm trying to accept the truth instead of dwelling on it or getting angry (although there's a certain amount of healthy anger in the grieving process). It's difficult not to be frustrated by what looks like a lack of progress. And also the bizarre lack of avenues for help. It's like the School has put all of it's shields up and armed the muskets in case someone gets close.
I want to be a baby elephant in the muddy planes of somewhere in Africa's heart. I want to flop into the mud and refuse to get up and I want the herd to come and pick me up and then we play in the clean river and and everyone hurrumphs, laughing and joyous.
I am so grateful to everyone who has shown me the smallest kindness. I don't think people realise how much those little things mean. I'm getting a bit teary thinking about all of the sweetest, kindest, most generous people in my life.
I often have moments of aching realisation that I don't really have friends. But not having a best friend doesn't mean that the beautiful souls I have met are any less special, and I know that they will genuinely want to help me and be friends. I think the fact that these generous and open-hearted people are friends with everyone kind of makes me feel like I'm only in their friendship group because they are kind to everyone they come across, but then again, I won't be looking this gift horse in the mouth.
You are what you do often, and if you are around good people who do good things, their goodness will rub off on you and some day or night in the future, you will be just as bright as your favourite star in the sky.
----------------------------------------
Okay I had to take a break to cry because someone sent me a nice message and is just so lovely (she was head of division for this first aid thing I volunteered at in G-town). I think that's happened a couple of times this year - crying because someone was nice. I don't know why we don't all do it more often. There is so much good in the world, behind the big blobs of despair. And I maintain that tears are good for your skin. Pretty sure the only reason I didn't have teenage skin issues was because I cried daily.
Skyped with an amazing friend who is the most self-less person I have ever met. This whisper of wishes in my head keeps wanting her to convert to Islam so we can be in Paradise together. She is such an amazing person, with the biggest heart. She deserves everything good.
So really, my life is not so bad. Being a muddy baby elephant with a herd I can call mine would be lovely. But then I wouldn't have met all of these bamfs. Alhamdulillah for every blessing.
Peace and love,
S.
The grief and disappointment comes in waves, a new panic each time. Deep breaths and distractions.
I know that Allah (swt) has a plan, nothing happens without a reason, and I'm trying to accept the truth instead of dwelling on it or getting angry (although there's a certain amount of healthy anger in the grieving process). It's difficult not to be frustrated by what looks like a lack of progress. And also the bizarre lack of avenues for help. It's like the School has put all of it's shields up and armed the muskets in case someone gets close.
I want to be a baby elephant in the muddy planes of somewhere in Africa's heart. I want to flop into the mud and refuse to get up and I want the herd to come and pick me up and then we play in the clean river and and everyone hurrumphs, laughing and joyous.
I am so grateful to everyone who has shown me the smallest kindness. I don't think people realise how much those little things mean. I'm getting a bit teary thinking about all of the sweetest, kindest, most generous people in my life.
I often have moments of aching realisation that I don't really have friends. But not having a best friend doesn't mean that the beautiful souls I have met are any less special, and I know that they will genuinely want to help me and be friends. I think the fact that these generous and open-hearted people are friends with everyone kind of makes me feel like I'm only in their friendship group because they are kind to everyone they come across, but then again, I won't be looking this gift horse in the mouth.
You are what you do often, and if you are around good people who do good things, their goodness will rub off on you and some day or night in the future, you will be just as bright as your favourite star in the sky.
----------------------------------------
Okay I had to take a break to cry because someone sent me a nice message and is just so lovely (she was head of division for this first aid thing I volunteered at in G-town). I think that's happened a couple of times this year - crying because someone was nice. I don't know why we don't all do it more often. There is so much good in the world, behind the big blobs of despair. And I maintain that tears are good for your skin. Pretty sure the only reason I didn't have teenage skin issues was because I cried daily.
Skyped with an amazing friend who is the most self-less person I have ever met. This whisper of wishes in my head keeps wanting her to convert to Islam so we can be in Paradise together. She is such an amazing person, with the biggest heart. She deserves everything good.
So really, my life is not so bad. Being a muddy baby elephant with a herd I can call mine would be lovely. But then I wouldn't have met all of these bamfs. Alhamdulillah for every blessing.
Peace and love,
S.
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
STAND AND DELIVER - THE WHITE MAN SAYS SO.
So I got a call asking if I wanted to do some market research, said yes as long as it doesn't involve alcohol (non-halal stuff) and the bright young spark on the other side of the phone launched into a quite abrasive way of asking questions about Islam like 'Did you as a female choose to be Muslim because your religion is so misogynistic etc'.
Credit to him for actually asking and listening to the answers, and sometimes trying to be polite about it (actually zero times), and 15minutes in I tried to give him an easy out because I had corrected every single piece of garbage 'knowledge' he had spewed and didn't want to make it him feel more awkward or shallow so I asked him how old he is (21) and what he was studying (some combination of economics and law) and I was like oh yeah my cousin is studying law - and then - wait for it - the misogynistic tapeworm automatically assumed the cousin is a guy. His brain would have imploded if he found out that my mother qualified as a doctor twice, with the second one being in her 3rd (4th?) language and simultaneously dealing with 5 children.
I got all of the horrible questions - beheadings, deliberately dying as a martyr, polygamy (this was a good one - 'we are animal and we're not designed to be with one person for life, we're supposed to SPREAD OUT SEED, but having casual sex partners is okay and different to a woman allowing her husband to add a second wife for whom he's has to provide for equally etc. is wrong') and lots of "I haven't read the Quran but I watched this documentary and it was really good and the I read the Quran (?but you said you haven't??) says women are inferior" and it went on and on and on in this vein.
And he had actually just called to ask if I'd like like to taste test some lemonade for their research group. Like, WHAT THE ACTUAL FCK??? I couldn't remember a single scholar to recommend watching on youtube because there I was enjoying my mature cheddar and BAM! STAND AND DEFEND YOUR INDIVIDUAL IDENTITY AS WELL AS THOSE OF 1.7 BILLION OTHERS BECAUSE THIS 21YO MALE HAS WATCHED A DOCUMENTARY THAT SHOWED THAT MOST MUSLIMS ARE JUST HUMANS.
And all I had wanted to do was take a lunch break and eat my mature cheddar.
S.
S.
PS I'm not as angry as this post may suggest, but he interrupted my cheese time. Luckily mum called soon after to tell me she loves me and how I was such a good little girl back in the day. Nothing quite like praise from someone you love to perk you up again :) Also, he's not going to learn if he doesn't ask questions, and only God knows the many and varied silly things I've said and done out of pure ignorance. I'm glad if I can be the person to pull someone over to the light, and I would like documented credit to me if this interaction contributes to his learning or broadening of his mind in some way.
S.
Even lateral movement is still movement.
Sometimes you catch yourself routinely watering a dead plant over and over again, like there is some hope that are is some tiny part of the plant is alive deep down, and this tiny part will come out and eventually bloom. I’ve been doing this lately for a fern given out as wedding favours at the wedding of a dear friend, so this anecdote can stop here and be literal, told as a joke.
But I have many feelings that keep wanting to come out, so there is more.
I guess that desperate hope is what I find when I keep trying to manage stress and sadness and fears and obesity. I keep plugging away and going through the motions in the hope that there exists a tiny healthy bright part of me that will make it all worth it. Often when you try really hard, your only consolation is that you tried at all. I desperately want to bet better, but maybe what counts - and what really gives value to my person and my life - is the fact that i’m chipping away at this mountain, even if all i have is a butter knife (which i admit i only use to put the right about of hummus on my wafer crackers).
But I have many feelings that keep wanting to come out, so there is more.
I guess that desperate hope is what I find when I keep trying to manage stress and sadness and fears and obesity. I keep plugging away and going through the motions in the hope that there exists a tiny healthy bright part of me that will make it all worth it. Often when you try really hard, your only consolation is that you tried at all. I desperately want to bet better, but maybe what counts - and what really gives value to my person and my life - is the fact that i’m chipping away at this mountain, even if all i have is a butter knife (which i admit i only use to put the right about of hummus on my wafer crackers).
Peace and love,
S.
Friday, November 18, 2016
You want rewiring done right, you have to do it yourself.
I have more feelings to share and it's one of these things that fill in some small part of your heart/soul and it's not a huge stride but it is a shuffle forward. This piece will one day be fleshed out into the most revolutionary of all political compendiums, but here is the first draft.
Learning to deal with new/current/old things using a new approach means you're literally rewiring your brain. The older you are, the harder it gets, not just because certain pathways have become very strong, but also because you don't necessarily have the means to hijack an existing network to link new thoughts and habits together to your core and growing new branches towards other dendrites takes ages. But you'll get there.
Learning to stay calm - to suppress and redirect the aspects of your flight/fight/freeze of your stress response - that's really tough and so, so, SO hard. But you can do it, because the next time you ask a older privileged white man about how to find a mentor and he immediately tells you that he understands what you're going through and that he has a a good friend who is Indian, you are able to actually say with polite words that 'yeah that's awesome, thank you for your business card, will totes come to you for career/life advice'. And you will do this without crying, or breaking the pen your holding, or literally slamming your head into a brick wall.
You will do this because this person's ignorance is not your fault or your enemy. Yeah, the three-year-old wants to shout NO, the teenager wants to roll her eyes, the young adult wants scream with the injustice of his misconception,. But you have disconnected the reactionary driver, and you deal with the situation with the default politeness you've been working on, and send a few thoughts down to the big processing centre to file away as 'brownie points for self-restraint'.
You are exposing old networks of anxiety and frustration to a pacifist's approach, teaching those high-strung neurones to reach for this new piece of golden nugget with soft hands and a softer heart.
Peace and love,
S.
---------------
Learning to deal with new/current/old things using a new approach means you're literally rewiring your brain. The older you are, the harder it gets, not just because certain pathways have become very strong, but also because you don't necessarily have the means to hijack an existing network to link new thoughts and habits together to your core and growing new branches towards other dendrites takes ages. But you'll get there.
Learning to stay calm - to suppress and redirect the aspects of your flight/fight/freeze of your stress response - that's really tough and so, so, SO hard. But you can do it, because the next time you ask a older privileged white man about how to find a mentor and he immediately tells you that he understands what you're going through and that he has a a good friend who is Indian, you are able to actually say with polite words that 'yeah that's awesome, thank you for your business card, will totes come to you for career/life advice'. And you will do this without crying, or breaking the pen your holding, or literally slamming your head into a brick wall.
You will do this because this person's ignorance is not your fault or your enemy. Yeah, the three-year-old wants to shout NO, the teenager wants to roll her eyes, the young adult wants scream with the injustice of his misconception,. But you have disconnected the reactionary driver, and you deal with the situation with the default politeness you've been working on, and send a few thoughts down to the big processing centre to file away as 'brownie points for self-restraint'.
You are exposing old networks of anxiety and frustration to a pacifist's approach, teaching those high-strung neurones to reach for this new piece of golden nugget with soft hands and a softer heart.
Peace and love,
S.
Saturday, October 29, 2016
Procrastination and the thoughts you have long after a conversation is over.
Okay, so I'm having trouble focusing on this assignment that's due soon, so I'm going tell you a story instead.
Back in the day, when I was young and yet to find a white hair on my head, this guy told me that the idea of paying zero interest on loans (interest is forbidden under shariah laws regarding business) is putting undue stress on the poorer people in society.
Wth, right?
I tried to explain it to him - it's not a difficult idea to understand, the fact that not charging interest on loans is in the best interest of those who have the least amount of money - and he responded with 'well I did a semester of economics at Melbourne Uni and you haven't studied any economics so I'm better qualified' (paraphrased) and I was like ???
In the naïveté of my youth and the profound sense of anger I feel at every injustice in the world, I got worked up about this silly person and his silly understanding of how exploitative interest is. In fact, I'm getting annoyed thinking about it right now. Why do I care so much about this incident, so many years on?
But that's not the point of the story.
The point is that I was young and silly and did not have the presence of mind to take a step back and try to understand where this guy's silliness came from. Here was a privileged white boy trying to tell me that my religion was wrong for making it easier for people of lower income to buy the same things as the 1%, and nothing I said was going to change his mind.
So why didn't I understand that people are funny and find it hard to let go of any idea that's comforting to them, regardless of how wrong it is? Kind of like how I know that lots of carbs aren't healthy but they make me so happy, and telling me that carbs are bad isn't going to make me happy or change the eating habits of an obese generation. Change doesn't come from arguing with an idiot, and, if you're a more benevolent person than me, you won't label the idiot in the first place.
Change comes from your own insight and subsequent actions that may help others achieve insight as well. Not that you can predict or direct insight. Some of the brightest people you know will have the least insight into their own selves and behaviours. It's not something that's dependent on intelligence or knowledge or how nice you think you are/try to be. I guess it's a mixture of life and luck - you happen to be in a particular situation or mood and the right particles collide to set off flashes in your brain and for a split second you GET it. Hopefully you can hold on to that glimpse into the workings of the universe, but if you don't, don't stress, because it gets easier the more you open yourself up to it.
I feel like I was trying to tell you something really profound and also take a passive aggressive dig at the guy who annoyed me (obviously I posted something on fb and he messaged to say sorry and i was like 'nah it's cool i would have told you if i had a problem with you'- a complete lie, btw) and I haven't quite done the first bit. What I have done, though, is put off working on this assignment.
Back to it, I guess.
Peace and love,
S.
Friday, July 1, 2016
Mid-20s can hit you like a wayward train.
Sometimes good things happen and sometimes bad things happen.
My problem has always been in the planning and foresight department. When something bad happens I forget that it will pass. I forget all good feelings and thoughts. And I just want the world to end. When good things happen, I forget that this, too, is transient. I forget about the problems I still have to deal with and the stressors that are coming up. I forget to work for my future. Despite all of this, I also forget to be in the moment, so the joy itself isn't appreciable either.
I received feedback on some ethics and law reflection journals and it was a real knock-me-down. The perfect reminder that I am not infallible, that I do not have a single thing that I am good at. I have always thought - perhaps wanted more than actually thought - that I can write and reflect well. This may have been the case some 10 years ago when I was still posting on my blog, which would be updated with teenage angst every second day. But I have stopped journaling and stopped writing for so long now, and it slipped my mind that things don't stay the same. Your talents don't grow or maintain themselves if you give no effort to them.
Today I find myself in a slightly melancholic state. I have glad that my friends will be interns next year, and yet I am so desperately sad that I will be alone as I go through the year and a half that remains. They have so many other friends, other supports and networks around them. But I have none and am unlikely to suddenly find any. I think the worst part is that I am always so desperately eager to make friends and hang out for the friends that I have, and it takes me by surprise when one of actually does something kind for me. I am used to driving the ~40minutes it takes to get to the library or friend's house but have never had the courage to ask anyone to do the same for me. So yesterday when a couple of them drove out of their way to pick me up, I was both embarrassed and bewildered. I don't know why I felt either these things. Surely, I understand by now that friendship is a two-way street? I think I am embarrassed by how desperately I want friends and kindness in my life. Especially given my entire friendship history - I was always the one who was keen to travel two hours to see high school friends and they were keen to travel two hours but not in my direction. Sad.
So I am proof that teenage angst does not doesn't not suddenly let go of its hold on you because you are not longer a teenager. I am jealous of my friends' friendships with each other, and I am insecure in my relationship with them. In some ways I don't feel worthy of their goodness, but I think there must be more it than that.
I think I'll leave this emotional word-vomit here and find a distraction.
Peace and love,
S.
My problem has always been in the planning and foresight department. When something bad happens I forget that it will pass. I forget all good feelings and thoughts. And I just want the world to end. When good things happen, I forget that this, too, is transient. I forget about the problems I still have to deal with and the stressors that are coming up. I forget to work for my future. Despite all of this, I also forget to be in the moment, so the joy itself isn't appreciable either.
I received feedback on some ethics and law reflection journals and it was a real knock-me-down. The perfect reminder that I am not infallible, that I do not have a single thing that I am good at. I have always thought - perhaps wanted more than actually thought - that I can write and reflect well. This may have been the case some 10 years ago when I was still posting on my blog, which would be updated with teenage angst every second day. But I have stopped journaling and stopped writing for so long now, and it slipped my mind that things don't stay the same. Your talents don't grow or maintain themselves if you give no effort to them.
Today I find myself in a slightly melancholic state. I have glad that my friends will be interns next year, and yet I am so desperately sad that I will be alone as I go through the year and a half that remains. They have so many other friends, other supports and networks around them. But I have none and am unlikely to suddenly find any. I think the worst part is that I am always so desperately eager to make friends and hang out for the friends that I have, and it takes me by surprise when one of actually does something kind for me. I am used to driving the ~40minutes it takes to get to the library or friend's house but have never had the courage to ask anyone to do the same for me. So yesterday when a couple of them drove out of their way to pick me up, I was both embarrassed and bewildered. I don't know why I felt either these things. Surely, I understand by now that friendship is a two-way street? I think I am embarrassed by how desperately I want friends and kindness in my life. Especially given my entire friendship history - I was always the one who was keen to travel two hours to see high school friends and they were keen to travel two hours but not in my direction. Sad.
So I am proof that teenage angst does not doesn't not suddenly let go of its hold on you because you are not longer a teenager. I am jealous of my friends' friendships with each other, and I am insecure in my relationship with them. In some ways I don't feel worthy of their goodness, but I think there must be more it than that.
I think I'll leave this emotional word-vomit here and find a distraction.
Peace and love,
S.
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Caffeine to bring you up, happy thoughts to keep you there.
Sometimes I am struck (and paralysed) by how awkward I am, but then I drink coffee and the caffeine doesn't care about small talk or funny looks, just how much happiness and wonder is in the world around me.
Obvs the coffee doesn't fix anything, people still think I'm either weird or unapproachable, but at least my inside perfectly correlates with my outside, you know? I like the idea of being an authentic person, no lying to myself regardless of what others think. Of course I want to be a decent person, but what is the point of being a good person on the outside only to have a mess of hypocrisy underneath it all?
I'm pretty sure it's the caffeine talking now, but sometimes life is superb, once you remove yourself form the littleness of your immediate surroundings/situation and connect with life and the universe on a happier wavelength. For example, I just came back from ward rounds then coffee with the ortho team (interns and registrars) and the other med student was chatting away with them and they were responding to her and ignoring me, but do I need the approval of those people in that moment? It's okay to have nothing to say, and if my aim in life is to be a decent person to interact with, not having funny stories to tell doesn't really mean much, does it? I can still be easy-going in my interactions with people and not get in their way. They won't like me in the way they like the other med student, but I'm also not offending anyone, and eventually I will find my niche.
That sounds a bit sad, but I have so many moments in my life where I connect with people or situations and everything in life seems to be dancing to the same harmony and that's a beautiful feeling, like tapping into the fundamental frequency of the universe and seeing the perfection of every object and movement in relation to the rest.
I will worry about my awkwardness and lack of approval from others later when I'm feeling down. No need to spoil this high with stressing about what I can't change, and to some extent, don't have any need to change.
Peace and love,
S.
Obvs the coffee doesn't fix anything, people still think I'm either weird or unapproachable, but at least my inside perfectly correlates with my outside, you know? I like the idea of being an authentic person, no lying to myself regardless of what others think. Of course I want to be a decent person, but what is the point of being a good person on the outside only to have a mess of hypocrisy underneath it all?
I'm pretty sure it's the caffeine talking now, but sometimes life is superb, once you remove yourself form the littleness of your immediate surroundings/situation and connect with life and the universe on a happier wavelength. For example, I just came back from ward rounds then coffee with the ortho team (interns and registrars) and the other med student was chatting away with them and they were responding to her and ignoring me, but do I need the approval of those people in that moment? It's okay to have nothing to say, and if my aim in life is to be a decent person to interact with, not having funny stories to tell doesn't really mean much, does it? I can still be easy-going in my interactions with people and not get in their way. They won't like me in the way they like the other med student, but I'm also not offending anyone, and eventually I will find my niche.
That sounds a bit sad, but I have so many moments in my life where I connect with people or situations and everything in life seems to be dancing to the same harmony and that's a beautiful feeling, like tapping into the fundamental frequency of the universe and seeing the perfection of every object and movement in relation to the rest.
I will worry about my awkwardness and lack of approval from others later when I'm feeling down. No need to spoil this high with stressing about what I can't change, and to some extent, don't have any need to change.
Peace and love,
S.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Finding my way.
I'm trying to write more often when I'm happy, so that it feels more real and also so I have record of this happiness.
The summer holidays at the end of first year were kind of stressful. I didn't do much and just felt weirdly depressed all of the time. I was apprehensive about starting another year of med like that, but alhamdulillah, things have improved massively. Sometimes it's not about life working out, but about reminding yourself of all of the good already in it.
My new housemates are basically awesome. My room has a view of the lights across town so at night it's like the stars have doubled. And it's easier to be happy.
Not that anything has drastically changed - apart from less time around the toxicity of last year - but I feel good. Not that I don't have bad moments - but they are easier to forget. There are times when I'm around old friends and it feels like being around a frenemy. But it's no more than I deserve, considering how miserable and grumpy I am in general. Insha'allah that one will sort itself out as well.
The aim for this year is to be less intimidating and more nice, and so far, it's going okay. Slow, but okay.
The most important lesson from the last year is tawakkul 'alallah - trust in Allah, that it will be okay no matter how bad it seems, and that there is a reason for everything and that every problem has a solution. It has helped me calm down in the face of set backs and know that it's not the end of the world if I fail a test or have a problem with someone. It's not the same as not caring and not stressing - because I still care, I just don't get as wound up about it. Less panic, more action.
I am amazed (woops I wrote that as 'I am amazing' lol) over and over again at how much better my life is. The phrase that keeps going through my head is 'good things come to those who wait' - and I thank Allah every time the reality of my good fortune hits me. As with tawakkul, it's a little phrase that holds a lot of meaning and is worded perfectly enough to hit home every time.
Home is a good place.
Peace and love
S.
The summer holidays at the end of first year were kind of stressful. I didn't do much and just felt weirdly depressed all of the time. I was apprehensive about starting another year of med like that, but alhamdulillah, things have improved massively. Sometimes it's not about life working out, but about reminding yourself of all of the good already in it.
My new housemates are basically awesome. My room has a view of the lights across town so at night it's like the stars have doubled. And it's easier to be happy.
Not that anything has drastically changed - apart from less time around the toxicity of last year - but I feel good. Not that I don't have bad moments - but they are easier to forget. There are times when I'm around old friends and it feels like being around a frenemy. But it's no more than I deserve, considering how miserable and grumpy I am in general. Insha'allah that one will sort itself out as well.
The aim for this year is to be less intimidating and more nice, and so far, it's going okay. Slow, but okay.
The most important lesson from the last year is tawakkul 'alallah - trust in Allah, that it will be okay no matter how bad it seems, and that there is a reason for everything and that every problem has a solution. It has helped me calm down in the face of set backs and know that it's not the end of the world if I fail a test or have a problem with someone. It's not the same as not caring and not stressing - because I still care, I just don't get as wound up about it. Less panic, more action.
I am amazed (woops I wrote that as 'I am amazing' lol) over and over again at how much better my life is. The phrase that keeps going through my head is 'good things come to those who wait' - and I thank Allah every time the reality of my good fortune hits me. As with tawakkul, it's a little phrase that holds a lot of meaning and is worded perfectly enough to hit home every time.
Home is a good place.
Peace and love
S.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Driving, Drama, Ham.
Well, that was an eventful few days.
I finally took my Hazards test (so I can take the final driving test now). Hurray! I've only had my Learner's permit for 5 years.
Saturday was the next grand event. Med ball, Alice-in-Wonderland theme. My long green dress made me look like a big, beached green whale. I've gained too much mass to wear the silver blazer with it. It was still fun getting dressed up, though, glittery heels and plum coloured lipstick.
I was a little apprehensive about the whole thing. I don't like being around people when the alcohol has been flowing. I don't like seeing them say or do embarrassing things, revealing the defects in their character like it's a hilarious pride-worthy quirk. I also found out that it's very stressful being the sober person in a group. Not that it wasn't fun; I was with an awesome group of people, the food was okay and free soft drinks - kinda hard not to be happy with that much sugar and fizz in your system.
The night did end on a slightly less celebratory note. We needed two taxis to get all of us back home, and managed to hail one. One member of the party was really anxious to get home, so me and another female friend were left behind to wait for another taxi. It was dark, the middle of the night, and the centre of a not-so-friendly city. We waited ages on the roadside and on-hold to the taxi service, and eventually just walked into town to find a taxi. I know that I am a strong independent woman of colour who don't need no man and all of that, but you don't leave people alone in the middle of the night. It's not nice.
I am trying not to remember that as the defining event of the night. On the night I felt like I'd had a really good time hanging out with some fun people, but now I'm not too sure. I wasn't comfortable with some of people's activities, I don't drink alcohol and so witnessed everything with the clarity of a sober mind, and the heels made walking a tad difficult.
Anyway. Sunday was over in the blink of an eye. I walked down to the shops and splurged on yoghurt and pasta. The longer I am away from my family, the easier it gets to become caught up in my own world. But it also means that the moments I miss them are even harder; it's literally the little things, like asking my sister's opinion on an outfit, getting my youngest brother to help out when I'm cooking, hearing the sound of my family as they go about their lives, seeing their books in the living room.
Sigh. My brothers are growing up and my sisters are progressing through life and my parents are busying themselves and I'm alone in my room. I know I shouldn't waste my time day-dreaming when I could be living in the moment and making things happen. I catch myself every now and again, and I do try. But there seems to be some fundamental flaw in my character that stops me from being proactive and productive. And I know that the flaw is my fault and that I need to accept it and address it. And I don't know why I'm not.
And finally, last night's drama with meals from the residences' cafeteria. We get three compulsory meals a week (can't opt out of it), and there was drama earlier in the year because the uni advertised halal food but there was none available so my housemate and I had to resort to eating salad three nights a week. They assured as that the situation would be rectified, and since then halal food is available every now and again. The food isn't great, but it's food.
Anyway, so I get take-away meals, and I always write down 'halal' under the options, and last night was some sort of lasagna thing, and when I took it home I found a huge slab of ham in it.
That's right.
Ham.
Not cool. I understand that it's the staple diet of a large portion of the world, but I'm a Muslim and pig products are big deal in the forbidden list. I emailed the lady in charge of our residences. I wish I'd used stronger language. Like, of all the things to give, why would ham be okay?????
Blah. I hope I get out of the meal plan. I'm tired of eating over-priced salad (the food is basically less than acceptable) and being iron deficient and feeling yucky. That's right, I, a 23 year old educated woman of science and learning, just used the word 'yucky' to describe my feelings.
I think that's all for now.
Peace and love,
S.
I finally took my Hazards test (so I can take the final driving test now). Hurray! I've only had my Learner's permit for 5 years.
Saturday was the next grand event. Med ball, Alice-in-Wonderland theme. My long green dress made me look like a big, beached green whale. I've gained too much mass to wear the silver blazer with it. It was still fun getting dressed up, though, glittery heels and plum coloured lipstick.
I was a little apprehensive about the whole thing. I don't like being around people when the alcohol has been flowing. I don't like seeing them say or do embarrassing things, revealing the defects in their character like it's a hilarious pride-worthy quirk. I also found out that it's very stressful being the sober person in a group. Not that it wasn't fun; I was with an awesome group of people, the food was okay and free soft drinks - kinda hard not to be happy with that much sugar and fizz in your system.
The night did end on a slightly less celebratory note. We needed two taxis to get all of us back home, and managed to hail one. One member of the party was really anxious to get home, so me and another female friend were left behind to wait for another taxi. It was dark, the middle of the night, and the centre of a not-so-friendly city. We waited ages on the roadside and on-hold to the taxi service, and eventually just walked into town to find a taxi. I know that I am a strong independent woman of colour who don't need no man and all of that, but you don't leave people alone in the middle of the night. It's not nice.
I am trying not to remember that as the defining event of the night. On the night I felt like I'd had a really good time hanging out with some fun people, but now I'm not too sure. I wasn't comfortable with some of people's activities, I don't drink alcohol and so witnessed everything with the clarity of a sober mind, and the heels made walking a tad difficult.
Anyway. Sunday was over in the blink of an eye. I walked down to the shops and splurged on yoghurt and pasta. The longer I am away from my family, the easier it gets to become caught up in my own world. But it also means that the moments I miss them are even harder; it's literally the little things, like asking my sister's opinion on an outfit, getting my youngest brother to help out when I'm cooking, hearing the sound of my family as they go about their lives, seeing their books in the living room.
Sigh. My brothers are growing up and my sisters are progressing through life and my parents are busying themselves and I'm alone in my room. I know I shouldn't waste my time day-dreaming when I could be living in the moment and making things happen. I catch myself every now and again, and I do try. But there seems to be some fundamental flaw in my character that stops me from being proactive and productive. And I know that the flaw is my fault and that I need to accept it and address it. And I don't know why I'm not.
And finally, last night's drama with meals from the residences' cafeteria. We get three compulsory meals a week (can't opt out of it), and there was drama earlier in the year because the uni advertised halal food but there was none available so my housemate and I had to resort to eating salad three nights a week. They assured as that the situation would be rectified, and since then halal food is available every now and again. The food isn't great, but it's food.
Anyway, so I get take-away meals, and I always write down 'halal' under the options, and last night was some sort of lasagna thing, and when I took it home I found a huge slab of ham in it.
That's right.
Ham.
Not cool. I understand that it's the staple diet of a large portion of the world, but I'm a Muslim and pig products are big deal in the forbidden list. I emailed the lady in charge of our residences. I wish I'd used stronger language. Like, of all the things to give, why would ham be okay?????
Blah. I hope I get out of the meal plan. I'm tired of eating over-priced salad (the food is basically less than acceptable) and being iron deficient and feeling yucky. That's right, I, a 23 year old educated woman of science and learning, just used the word 'yucky' to describe my feelings.
I think that's all for now.
Peace and love,
S.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
For when it hurts.
Sometimes, things hurt.
No matter how small, insignificant and meaningless in the whole scheme of things, they hit you and at first you think you're angry, but actually you're hurt. It can be as small as a group of friends walking to class ahead of you, or someone taking longer than usual to respond to your message, or just the slight change in expression - the briefest of looks - when they see you or talk to you.
Sometimes, you tell yourself you're imagining it. But what's the point in this? Regardless of whether the event is real or imagined, it still jabs you in a sore spot. You tell yourself to toughen up, get over it. But how? What do you use to plug the hole?
And then you're alone in your room at midnight, crying over thoughts you can't stop from racing across your mind.
In the morning, you've forgotten about whatever it was. But you're not quite back to normal. You can't shake of this strange feeling. And when someone doesn't return a greeting, you're back in the slump. The day drifts by, but now you are acutely aware of all of the painful things in the world.
And it sucks.
Yeah, you're never alone, and yeah, it'll pass. But right now, in this moment, it hurts.
And you need to know that it's okay.
It's okay to feel hurt. It's okay to take your time bouncing back. It's okay to worry about what people think of you. It's okay to cry because you're upset. It's okay to need a kind word or gesture. It's okay to deal with your hurt in your own way.
Peace and love,
S.
No matter how small, insignificant and meaningless in the whole scheme of things, they hit you and at first you think you're angry, but actually you're hurt. It can be as small as a group of friends walking to class ahead of you, or someone taking longer than usual to respond to your message, or just the slight change in expression - the briefest of looks - when they see you or talk to you.
Sometimes, you tell yourself you're imagining it. But what's the point in this? Regardless of whether the event is real or imagined, it still jabs you in a sore spot. You tell yourself to toughen up, get over it. But how? What do you use to plug the hole?
And then you're alone in your room at midnight, crying over thoughts you can't stop from racing across your mind.
In the morning, you've forgotten about whatever it was. But you're not quite back to normal. You can't shake of this strange feeling. And when someone doesn't return a greeting, you're back in the slump. The day drifts by, but now you are acutely aware of all of the painful things in the world.
And it sucks.
Yeah, you're never alone, and yeah, it'll pass. But right now, in this moment, it hurts.
And you need to know that it's okay.
It's okay to feel hurt. It's okay to take your time bouncing back. It's okay to worry about what people think of you. It's okay to cry because you're upset. It's okay to need a kind word or gesture. It's okay to deal with your hurt in your own way.
Peace and love,
S.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Who Hurt You?
Dearest,
Who hurt you so badly
That you can't forgive?
What terrible deed
Did they inflict upon you
That you can't move on?
Did it mean so much
To you?
Did you care so much
For them?
Did your tears change
A thing?
No.
Water wears away at stone,
And so your tears
Will wear you
Down.
And yet,
As you stand
And face them again,
The fierceness of your fire
And the strength of your
Dreams
Will
Heal
You.
S.
Who hurt you so badly
That you can't forgive?
What terrible deed
Did they inflict upon you
That you can't move on?
Did it mean so much
To you?
Did you care so much
For them?
Did your tears change
A thing?
No.
Water wears away at stone,
And so your tears
Will wear you
Down.
And yet,
As you stand
And face them again,
The fierceness of your fire
And the strength of your
Dreams
Will
Heal
You.
S.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Trust and other issues.
Over the past couple of years I have learned a lot about friendship, politics, loyalty, and most of all, about trust. I am passive, weak, naive and gullible, so of course my instincts are to trust anyone and everyone. Thankfully life has taught me some key lessons in this area. Except I'm afraid these lessons have turned me into a cynical disaggregate instead. I find myself second-guessing my relationships with people, the goodness I see in others, and ultimately, the goodness I myself should be showing.
The way you treat others is a massive reflection on how you think and the sort of person you are. When I told everyone that I would be doing Arts this year, a lot of people were really sceptical that this was the truth, and thought I was lying to cover up doing medicine or something. Yes, this is a reflection of how they think, that expecting others to lie just shows how they themselves would lie. But I think I'm turning into one of these people. In some ways, it is a step forward - I am starting to no longer take words at face value - but at the same time, I am losing something of myself, like, sort of innocence and good will. And if I'm secretly accusing people of being false, what does it say about me? Is it better to be naive and taken advantage of, or to be on par with the bigots and know their game?
Ultimately, if they're going to give me the evil eye or make my life harder or whatever, it is Allah's will. No burden is given without you having the strength to carry it. Every test and downfall and success and brightness in your life is an opportunity to learn, or to see for yourself how strong you are and where you need to improve. So that's not a problem.
But in insisting on being naive, am I making life harder for myself? And in anticipating people's greed and lies am I making my Hereafter harder for myself?
I have so many moments when I want to share something, some good in my life, or some thought, with someone else, only to remember that that person doesn't trust me, and lies to me - because really, if someone's lying to you about something, it really means that they don't trust you. And it's sad, knowing that the people who are closest to you think this, especially when you know you have never given them a reason to do so.
People talk. It's what they do best, apart from judging. Everyone does it and if you say you don't you are lying to yourself. I'm going to give an example of how people use this knowledge and turn bad themselves, now. So in my family, all the aunts and uncles compete and show off and talk down about the achievements of others. When our ENTER scores came out, everyone wanted to know everything -and not in the genuinely curious way, but in this really sickeningly busy-body way. I, obviously, straight-out told everyone my marks - it was a miracle that I had passed, and I wasn't about to hide God's miracles. Other people weren't so keen on relating their marks/good news/success in something else/whatever, even though they were only making it harder for themselves by creating something for others to talk about and playing on their bus-body-ness. They kept going on about how other people talk even though they themselves talk just as much. I didn't realise the double-standards, as such, until very recently. You know when someone asks you for help and you do your utmost to help them and they go all coy and hide stuff and it's like um what. Why would you feel the need to lie to the one person who has kept every secret of yours and never lied to you about their own?
Anyway, after learning about this quality - in so many people it nearly makes me want to cry - I realised that those who are supposed to be closest to you will turn on you for no good reason. And I don't understand why. What it is that drives people to be so sh*tty? Like, I get it if you have to lie for a reason, but what is it with all of this? And why would you go on about how others have big mouths if yours is the biggest of all? Is it really that hard to see the truth? Why? I just don't get it.
I mean, I understand accidentally doing stuff, or having reasons that might be hard for others to understand, but intentionally doing sh*t things, I just don't get it. And then going to these same people to whom you lie and whatever, and asking for their sympathy or friendship or help in something - it just beggars belief. I just don't get it.
And this realisation of how awful people can be - I don't like it, I wish I didn't know about it, and I really, really just don't get it. I don't know who trust and with what, and I don't understand what friendship and loyalty and family and brotherhood is anymore.
But one good thing has come of this: I read this hadith or ayah from the Quran or something that says that Allah (swt) takes away everyone from the one who He wants to turn back to Him alone. And I think this is my sign. I feel alienated from the people around me because I've lost touch with my God. Good things happen when He is in my heart and on my mind, and it brings out the best in me and in others. I need to go back to my faith and thank God properly for all that is in my life.
Peace and love,
S.
The way you treat others is a massive reflection on how you think and the sort of person you are. When I told everyone that I would be doing Arts this year, a lot of people were really sceptical that this was the truth, and thought I was lying to cover up doing medicine or something. Yes, this is a reflection of how they think, that expecting others to lie just shows how they themselves would lie. But I think I'm turning into one of these people. In some ways, it is a step forward - I am starting to no longer take words at face value - but at the same time, I am losing something of myself, like, sort of innocence and good will. And if I'm secretly accusing people of being false, what does it say about me? Is it better to be naive and taken advantage of, or to be on par with the bigots and know their game?
Ultimately, if they're going to give me the evil eye or make my life harder or whatever, it is Allah's will. No burden is given without you having the strength to carry it. Every test and downfall and success and brightness in your life is an opportunity to learn, or to see for yourself how strong you are and where you need to improve. So that's not a problem.
But in insisting on being naive, am I making life harder for myself? And in anticipating people's greed and lies am I making my Hereafter harder for myself?
I have so many moments when I want to share something, some good in my life, or some thought, with someone else, only to remember that that person doesn't trust me, and lies to me - because really, if someone's lying to you about something, it really means that they don't trust you. And it's sad, knowing that the people who are closest to you think this, especially when you know you have never given them a reason to do so.
People talk. It's what they do best, apart from judging. Everyone does it and if you say you don't you are lying to yourself. I'm going to give an example of how people use this knowledge and turn bad themselves, now. So in my family, all the aunts and uncles compete and show off and talk down about the achievements of others. When our ENTER scores came out, everyone wanted to know everything -and not in the genuinely curious way, but in this really sickeningly busy-body way. I, obviously, straight-out told everyone my marks - it was a miracle that I had passed, and I wasn't about to hide God's miracles. Other people weren't so keen on relating their marks/good news/success in something else/whatever, even though they were only making it harder for themselves by creating something for others to talk about and playing on their bus-body-ness. They kept going on about how other people talk even though they themselves talk just as much. I didn't realise the double-standards, as such, until very recently. You know when someone asks you for help and you do your utmost to help them and they go all coy and hide stuff and it's like um what. Why would you feel the need to lie to the one person who has kept every secret of yours and never lied to you about their own?
Anyway, after learning about this quality - in so many people it nearly makes me want to cry - I realised that those who are supposed to be closest to you will turn on you for no good reason. And I don't understand why. What it is that drives people to be so sh*tty? Like, I get it if you have to lie for a reason, but what is it with all of this? And why would you go on about how others have big mouths if yours is the biggest of all? Is it really that hard to see the truth? Why? I just don't get it.
I mean, I understand accidentally doing stuff, or having reasons that might be hard for others to understand, but intentionally doing sh*t things, I just don't get it. And then going to these same people to whom you lie and whatever, and asking for their sympathy or friendship or help in something - it just beggars belief. I just don't get it.
And this realisation of how awful people can be - I don't like it, I wish I didn't know about it, and I really, really just don't get it. I don't know who trust and with what, and I don't understand what friendship and loyalty and family and brotherhood is anymore.
But one good thing has come of this: I read this hadith or ayah from the Quran or something that says that Allah (swt) takes away everyone from the one who He wants to turn back to Him alone. And I think this is my sign. I feel alienated from the people around me because I've lost touch with my God. Good things happen when He is in my heart and on my mind, and it brings out the best in me and in others. I need to go back to my faith and thank God properly for all that is in my life.
Peace and love,
S.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Things I have learned from the people I have met.
In my third year of uni, I met a master manipulator - so much so that when I realised this and then saw said person again over a year later, I totally forgot anything I had deduced about their character other than the warm and bubbly person they presented themselves to be. Not that this person committed heinous crimes - but they are really good at lying and that is the scariest quality of all. It's the smile of the psychopathic sweet-looking old lady.
Carrying on with the manipulation scene, there were the many people who made my Honours' year the hell that it was. Of course I know that not all people are there to be my friends, but that doesn't mean that I'm only there to be used and then thrown away like an old doll.
I have also learned a fair bit about loyalty from the people I have had the pleasure (or otherwise) to know. One standout example is a girl I met in high school. Ergh. Lack of loyalty masked as 'being laid back'. And the lies! I am of the firm opinion that friendship is based on mutual respect and honesty, and accepting each other's flaws. Not lying, telling people they need to change, and setting yourself up as the golden standard. If someone is attacking you, you don't expect your friends to join them.
Then there are the people you are always trying to catch up with and keep up friendships, and they just don't care. Obviously sometimes life gets in the way and all, but after a point - especially when they're making the time to see other people going on about how they have nothing to do - you just want to give up. Then they message you and are cheery and friendly tell you how much they miss you, and all you can think of is a perfectly-worded insult that ends the friendship and causes maximal damage to the other person. But as an adult you can't function like that, especially if you want to be a decent person. You can't just cut the rubbish bits out of your life, unfortunately. People get catty and don't realise it's because they are so awful and not because you are a judgmental b*tch. And people are so good at believing the worst in people and being nasty about it, so if you're not adequately equipped in the snarky remarks and general doggishness department, you don't stand a chance.
At this point, I would like to thank the many loyal and lovely people in my life, the ones who make me a better person and who give me faith in humanity. But this post is mostly about the ones who don't.
My many good and bad experiences with people have also taught me soemthing about myself - I am too willing to think and bleieve well of people, I ignore people's faults until one day I explod and people think I'm just being petty, and I'm incredibly gullible. I also get really close to people really quickly, and I feel like I've found a kindred spirit, and then they disappoint me.
These experiences have also highlighted a flaw of mine character - I am passive and live too much in the moment without analysing the bigger picture until it is too late. But seeing as this is my flaw, I won't dwell on it too much.
This is by no means an exhaustive list of everyone I have met and everything I have learned. But I think it's enough of a start.
Peace and love,
S.
Carrying on with the manipulation scene, there were the many people who made my Honours' year the hell that it was. Of course I know that not all people are there to be my friends, but that doesn't mean that I'm only there to be used and then thrown away like an old doll.
I have also learned a fair bit about loyalty from the people I have had the pleasure (or otherwise) to know. One standout example is a girl I met in high school. Ergh. Lack of loyalty masked as 'being laid back'. And the lies! I am of the firm opinion that friendship is based on mutual respect and honesty, and accepting each other's flaws. Not lying, telling people they need to change, and setting yourself up as the golden standard. If someone is attacking you, you don't expect your friends to join them.
Then there are the people you are always trying to catch up with and keep up friendships, and they just don't care. Obviously sometimes life gets in the way and all, but after a point - especially when they're making the time to see other people going on about how they have nothing to do - you just want to give up. Then they message you and are cheery and friendly tell you how much they miss you, and all you can think of is a perfectly-worded insult that ends the friendship and causes maximal damage to the other person. But as an adult you can't function like that, especially if you want to be a decent person. You can't just cut the rubbish bits out of your life, unfortunately. People get catty and don't realise it's because they are so awful and not because you are a judgmental b*tch. And people are so good at believing the worst in people and being nasty about it, so if you're not adequately equipped in the snarky remarks and general doggishness department, you don't stand a chance.
At this point, I would like to thank the many loyal and lovely people in my life, the ones who make me a better person and who give me faith in humanity. But this post is mostly about the ones who don't.
My many good and bad experiences with people have also taught me soemthing about myself - I am too willing to think and bleieve well of people, I ignore people's faults until one day I explod and people think I'm just being petty, and I'm incredibly gullible. I also get really close to people really quickly, and I feel like I've found a kindred spirit, and then they disappoint me.
These experiences have also highlighted a flaw of mine character - I am passive and live too much in the moment without analysing the bigger picture until it is too late. But seeing as this is my flaw, I won't dwell on it too much.
This is by no means an exhaustive list of everyone I have met and everything I have learned. But I think it's enough of a start.
Peace and love,
S.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
The middle-aged white man.
Don't read this if you are super sensitive or acutely opposed to statements of generalisation or susceptible to depression about the plight of the world.
---------------------
Any time in my life that I have expressed my (grandiose) dreams and plans for the future, the only person who has knocked me down is the middle-aged white man - not the proverbial person, but the actual.
In high school I had an English teacher who, in year 11, called me over to his desk during class and told me that I'm a very bright girl and I just need to keep up the good work and I'll get far. This went on for about 10 minutes. I in turn shared my dreams of studying at an Oxbridge university, whereby he laughed and said, "You can't do that!"
My orthodontist was also one of these. He asked me what I wanted to do and again, I shared the Oxbridge dream. He responded with several reasons why this might be unreasonable, including that the universities are tied to the Church, and given that I'm Muslim, how would I deal with that? Except, um, some of Oxford's most famous scholars include Benazir Bhutto (Muslim), Indira Gandhi (Hindu) and Stephen Hawking (atheist).
More recently, and what really triggered this post, was my Honour's supervisor. In our first meeting he asked me what I wanted to do with my life, and I told him I wanted to learn everything about everything, and he, predictably, responded with a derisive laugh and, "You can't do that!" Literally. And throughout the year he insisted on repeating his mantra of "You can't get full marks, you can never get full marks, it's never going to be perfect, you can never make it perfect". Um, DUH, if I've lost 2% in the first assignment I'm obviously not going to get 100% at the end of the year. And why can't I make it perfect? Just because it's hard doesn't mean it's impossible, or that I shouldn't try.
Clearly, the middle-aged white man, as characterised above, is the bane of our success, the killer of our dreams and just plain mean. (Apart from all the really awesome middle-aged white men, obviously cf. Ian Hislop, Paul Merton, Jon Stuart, Norm Eizenberg, etc. etc.).
Peace and love,
S.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Blood boiling.
Sometimes, people make me really angry.
Okay, I know what you're thinking - "Did you just say SOMETIMES? Because it seems like you're ALWAYS angry!"
Allow me to correct you. People OFTEN annoy me. They don't always make my blood boil. Apart from Honours and the people involved in that year, and what I am about to divulge, and crimes against humanity, I can't really think of anything that makes my blood boil. I'm not perpetually angry, I'm just constantly annoyed because people don't shut up. Seriously, if people could zip it every now and again, half of the world's problems would be gone, with the other half being stupidity.
So. Now that's cleared up, I will discuss the other thing that makes my blood boil on a fairly regular basis.
I am the eldest of five siblings. After myself, there are two girls, and then two boys. The boys are great (totes love the youngest), and I would count the middle sister as one of my best friends. But the youngest sister? You can't imagine how many times I've asked God to give me strength, because I swear I will end up stabbing her one day.
How many times do you have to keep extending the hand of friendship? How consistently nice do you have to be someone before they learn to be a little considerate? Today, as has been the case for the last week or so, she has been literally yelling at the parentals because she wants a cat. She has found a list of reasons online - having pets helps with depression, fitness, etc. But how can she care for another animal if she's incapable of keeping her own space clean and smell-free? Last year was only her first year at uni and she not only failed SEVERAL units, she also missed the sub-exams because as usual, she was up all night watching dvds and then slept in.
That's another thing. She's always complaining that she has no clothes, and every time there's a wedding or event we have to lend her ours, and then she spends all of her money on useless crap. She complains that no one takes her shopping but when we do she wanders off for hours looking at comic books and dvds and stuff she doesn't need.
And then she complains about being broke. GOD!
It'd be okay if she kept it all to herself, but no, she has to scream and yell and bully until she gets her own way. She has no concept of responsibility or consideration. She literally stomps when she's walking around the house. In the middle of the night, a loud banging noise wakes you up, and that's her stomping and banging her way to the toilet, like opening doors violently makes her cool or important.
So basically, what makes my blood boil - apart from the mess, the things that go missing and turn up in her room, the lack of contribution to chores, being an inconsiderate *****, distracting the boys from homework and sleep and bullying and bribing them, the fact that she can't share or do a favour for someone without extorting something massive from them - is the fact that she doesn't shut up.
This in turn is basically what annoys me about other people. If you're not invited into a conversation, why butt in? If you want to say something, why do you have to yell? If someone says no, why can't you zip your mouth? Why do you have to yell? And most of all, why can't you leave me alone?
I'm having trouble explaining what she's like and why it makes my blood boil. You'd have to live with her for a day, an hour, anything.
I have, for the most part, controlled myself. Sometimes I swear and sometimes I sing loudly and in a high pitch to drown her out. But I'm pretty sure that one day I will stab and burn her. And I won't regret it.
And here's a bit of contrast:
Peace and love,
S.
Okay, I know what you're thinking - "Did you just say SOMETIMES? Because it seems like you're ALWAYS angry!"
Allow me to correct you. People OFTEN annoy me. They don't always make my blood boil. Apart from Honours and the people involved in that year, and what I am about to divulge, and crimes against humanity, I can't really think of anything that makes my blood boil. I'm not perpetually angry, I'm just constantly annoyed because people don't shut up. Seriously, if people could zip it every now and again, half of the world's problems would be gone, with the other half being stupidity.
So. Now that's cleared up, I will discuss the other thing that makes my blood boil on a fairly regular basis.
I am the eldest of five siblings. After myself, there are two girls, and then two boys. The boys are great (totes love the youngest), and I would count the middle sister as one of my best friends. But the youngest sister? You can't imagine how many times I've asked God to give me strength, because I swear I will end up stabbing her one day.
How many times do you have to keep extending the hand of friendship? How consistently nice do you have to be someone before they learn to be a little considerate? Today, as has been the case for the last week or so, she has been literally yelling at the parentals because she wants a cat. She has found a list of reasons online - having pets helps with depression, fitness, etc. But how can she care for another animal if she's incapable of keeping her own space clean and smell-free? Last year was only her first year at uni and she not only failed SEVERAL units, she also missed the sub-exams because as usual, she was up all night watching dvds and then slept in.
That's another thing. She's always complaining that she has no clothes, and every time there's a wedding or event we have to lend her ours, and then she spends all of her money on useless crap. She complains that no one takes her shopping but when we do she wanders off for hours looking at comic books and dvds and stuff she doesn't need.
And then she complains about being broke. GOD!
It'd be okay if she kept it all to herself, but no, she has to scream and yell and bully until she gets her own way. She has no concept of responsibility or consideration. She literally stomps when she's walking around the house. In the middle of the night, a loud banging noise wakes you up, and that's her stomping and banging her way to the toilet, like opening doors violently makes her cool or important.
So basically, what makes my blood boil - apart from the mess, the things that go missing and turn up in her room, the lack of contribution to chores, being an inconsiderate *****, distracting the boys from homework and sleep and bullying and bribing them, the fact that she can't share or do a favour for someone without extorting something massive from them - is the fact that she doesn't shut up.
This in turn is basically what annoys me about other people. If you're not invited into a conversation, why butt in? If you want to say something, why do you have to yell? If someone says no, why can't you zip your mouth? Why do you have to yell? And most of all, why can't you leave me alone?
I'm having trouble explaining what she's like and why it makes my blood boil. You'd have to live with her for a day, an hour, anything.
I have, for the most part, controlled myself. Sometimes I swear and sometimes I sing loudly and in a high pitch to drown her out. But I'm pretty sure that one day I will stab and burn her. And I won't regret it.
And here's a bit of contrast:
Peace and love,
S.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Instant blood boiling.
I asked for the pathology database so I could check the causes of death for my subjects. He replies with it's not the pathology database, he has to find the actual database, and send him the subject codes.
Here's an idea, how about you just send the database to me? Is it going to kill you if I look up the codes myself?
God give me strength.
Here's an idea, how about you just send the database to me? Is it going to kill you if I look up the codes myself?
God give me strength.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)