The Truth About Lying

I have always wondered whether to lie or to speak of half truths is a deeply ingrained component of the human brain. Or it must be a carefully planned and manipulated programming? I tend to believe both. How else do you explain the fact that every one lies? You and I included.

We were born clueless of what is the truth and what is not. I recall however  when I was a kid, that generally adults discouraged honesty, in some vague, sordid way. 

ADULT: "No don't say she's fat, she's robust." (seriously, she looks like a German tank waddling in heels!)

 ADULT: "Do not stare or mention Aunt Lisa's new horrible curls." (how can I if she looks like she electrocuted her wet nose in a socket?)

ADULT: "We're house guests, don't make that face and swallow the food. Smile." (WTF? Hay bale stir-fried in donkey's compost would probably taste sweeter) 

So I argue, "But, Mom, we hate those nosy neighbours, why do I need to invite their kid to my kid party? I hate playing with that stinking, snotty kid. He does not even know how to blow his nose! We don't play with him at all." So I get a scolding and am told that those words are not proper and hurtful. Even if they are true.  And it is gracious to invite neighbours to your own personal events, even if you hate them, because it is socially proper.

I guess I failed on that note. I grew up getting into major fights and fall outs with family and friends, for calling a spade, a spade. I still have no idea why I should call it otherwise.

So why do we lie? I can think of a few honest reasons why.

1. For survival and self-preservation. Yeah because often, the people around us would prefer to be lied to than deal with reality. If your Boss asks if he is right about his decision, you ought to know better that he is always right however warped his mind is. So you lie.
   
2. To save face.  A more common face-saving treachery is forgetting the name of the person who just stopped you at the corner Coffee Shop. Whilst he/she rattles off about how long ago you have last seen each other, your brain crashes as it tries to retrieve the Archives but the screen goes blank instead. You nod and agree and pray that the whole agonizing meeting would stop. It does. And you still don't remember who it was. But you shout back, "Yeah, let's have coffee sometime. Keep in touch." Lame. Liar.
3. To avoid responsibility. It's lovely to loaf and fool around. When you get confronted you say, "Geesh, I'm swamped and neck-deep with to-do lists, I was trying to swing it but it just didn't pan out." But you didn't. You forgot. Too busy horsing around and just being a sloth. Truth is, you don't even know what you forgot. But you say this without batting an eyelash nor glancing to the right side.
4. To avoid confrontation. "The Company has decided to initiate some cutbacks and move in another strategic direction." Truth is, "you suck and you are no better than an incompetent baboon..."  
5. For personal gain. Or personal interests. Or anything that is centrally about your delusions. Or perhaps because you want to and you can.
   
6. To please people. Generally people love half-truths and lies, even if they are loaded with sarcasm, absurdity and trash. Or you are just a people pleaser and you love being lied to as well.
7. Jack Nicholson is right.  Always been and always will be.
   

I've all but ... (Almost an A-Z Challenge)

It's a been a little over a year since I started this Blog chapter of my life. And not unlike most of the virtual friends I have met in this journey, there would be highly driven stages of writing where the inspiration oozes out of my soul; and there would be phases when I've all but given up writing altogether. You see here, whilst writing can be highly therapeutic, reading back your feelings in words sometimes feel like a surreal experience.


But why call an entire Blog "ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE"?

Well, the rest of my Blog Friends have taken up the courage to go for the A-Z Blog Challenge, meanwhile, back at the ranch, I will begin and end with A.


I used to fancy road trips with my parents; and typical of kids in long distance rides, I annoyed them with the only question I demanded an immediate response to: "Are we there yet?" 
Sometimes, my Dad would patiently reply, "We're almost there but not there yet." I would go back to either sulking as I never really understood what that meant, or be more annoying and nag again, "How far is almost there?"


What kind of an English word is ALMOST, anyway? 


References define "almost" as synonymous to nearly, practically, but not exactly, et. al.
Technically, it is a word in the grey area. It is neither hot or cold, but almost warm. It is neither black or white, but almost black or nearly white.


However, to my young mind, including my adult mind (that means now, I hope), I believe that almost carries a mystical meaning. It is a word that can never be wrongly used nor can it ever be politically incorrect. It is a safe word. Devoid of triggers and potential repulsive reactions contrary to other words that can be used in its stead. However arbitrary and vague, it is most descriptive in a peculiar sense. It carries a calming effect versus a straightforward, NO, NOT, YES, or TOTALLY.


I particularly chose this Blog Title as it generally signifies life experiences, my own and the sum total of the people I have met. It represents a continuous search for meaning and closure. Even at the point or peak of someone's achievement, they tend to always feel, there is more than where they are, or how far they've gone. Certainly, almost, but not there yet.

Whoa, had no intentions of making this post sound so darn philosophical! 


I just really wanted to quietly celebrate my Blog's more than a year of existence; with a humble following, (whilst I quietly sip on my 1984 Chateau Margaux Giscours Cabernet Sauvignon and nibble on some walnuts, cheese and cherries) and since the molecular fibre of my being has not decided to join the rest of the universe where it originated from, I will always feel that life is a road trip, where every pit stop tells you that you're almost there, but not quite.

When Life Gives You Lemons

It has been awhile since my last post. The last one on this Blog was aptly a ranting.
I have been rather busy fire-fighting in real life. Like the old adage goes, "When life gives you a basket of lemons ... it's called a Lemon Rampage."

I don't recall who originally said this quote, maybe you do. I know I heard it before from my Grandma, my Mom, a couple of friends, and it gets quoted time and again, probably until you get to experience it for real. I reckon when you begin to feel like a sourpuss, then the lemon must have hit you for real.


I find it rather amusing to watch how life's twists and turns happen to people. There will always be elements of either delight or pleasant surprise, or frustration and disgust. Except when life happens to me personally, and I don't get what I expected and planned for, in a series of unfortunate circumstances, the humour escapes me.


So here I am, a couple of weeks before my birthday, trying to mull my life's "Corona with a Lemon Twist." (I used to call it "birthday blues" as back when I was kid, I had the most annoying ritual of getting a little sick before my birth day actually happens.) In a moment of weakness I told myself maybe I should stop "hoping" and dreaming, as my frustrations seem to get a life if its own acquiring strength and power along the way. Then I remembered these very words, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade."


And in a rarer moment of lucidity, I decided to actually use my head to seriously think about how I am coping with my life's frustrations. Not that I don't use my head to think, but my head is mostly filled with trivia and songs that to utilize higher brain functions such as evaluate and discern, gives me serious migraine headaches.


I started by bringing out my favourite Tequila, salt and a couple of lemon slices. to make my own version of Lemonade. And with all the wisdom and intellect I could muster, I asked myself some process questions that will help me better understand what I am dealing with and how I am coping with it:

• Am I overrating a small problem and making it too big to have a solution? Or do I already have a solution except that I haven't acquired the patience to wait for the solution to happen?
• I doubt I am the only one in the entire universe of mankind who has to deal with their fair share of challenges and there are a lot more in worse situations than I am. Then why do I react like the world is against me and my life is completely ruined? As a matter of fact, my life is not ruined at all. I like to think I am suffering because the attention I get feeds my ego.
• Should I not be looking at what I have learned and how much I have gained since I am  totally getting stretched and not many people have the same challenging opportunities than what I am facing? I have grown in leaps and bounds in the past months than in all of my lifetime and I have lived to Blog about it. I am not sick, my faculties are intact, and I can still sing and dance if I want to.
• And perhaps the best thing I can take away from all of these is that certainly in life, we do not always get what we want. Sometimes, even what we love and need get taken away from us yet it does not mean we should stop breathing.

There is no substitute to acceptance borne from clarity enabled by a shot of Tequila.

Yeah, life can be very hard and depressing. 

People can be so disappointing. Sometimes, friends let you down instead of lift you up. Sometimes the very people you have helped in the past will turn their backs on you when you need them or worst, will take you down. A lot more people can really be heartless and mean, I choose not to be like anyone of that breed.

However, it is during these times that I find it important to own up to what I am feeling at the moment, not to dwell on it but to know that it is happening and that I am hurting. It is equally important too to embrace the reality that there are certain issues out of my control but in time, they will all pass.

Whatever it is that seems to be unresolved going on in our lives will soon have their own resolutions, in time. 

Nothing is permanent. Everything is temporary.

Today, more than ever, I recognize the transitory nature of every matter and every circumstance in the universe and I find the whole concept absolutely redeeming.

The truth is, I really prefer lime to lemonade with my tequila. Salut!

Sometimes Being Nice Sucks

Being a douche and an asshole, and not caring for anyone or anything at all, is way too easy. That would explain the proliferation of this species in the humanity-dom.


Who cares if more than half the people in the world is starving? That the homeless should be sheltered; the substance abusers must be rehabilitated and that the ghetto children deserve health and education? Or if the overweight people are bullied and are bound to slit their wrists in the next day or two because they feel unloved? That those anorexics-emo-turds deserve to be flushed out of the world so they don't litter their sorry skeletal bones all over the place? Or that being ugly does not really matter, it's what inside that counts? That racism and segregation still truly exists? Bullshit!

Do you know that caring is frickin' tiring? Being fair allows other people to step all over you. Being honest helps you lose the race and any other competition. Living true to your values and life principles make you lame. Trusting that other people will tend for you in your time of crisis and need is inevitable given that you extended an arm and a leg (and a torso) to help them out when they were rock bottom. Fuck that!


It was your choice or your nature to be good and nice to people. But to expect people to care just as much, are you kidding me? Grow up! You are likely to be the prime target of scam artists and parasites who will suck the life out of you. 

Fine so you sleep with a smile, but who the hell cares if you're smiling?


Yeah I know, I am ranting and frothing at the mouth.
There are days when it's a lot better to behave like a bitch and be true to form. It's too easy and too much fun.


Honestly? 
It really breaks my heart to see more and more people succumb to the easy way following the rules of life in general. The few people who try to do good and have a heart, continuously get punished and suffer for good intentions. The last one that ever walked this earth was stoned and crucified.


This reality leaves very little option for people who try to have a decent life or for a lot more, who just try to survive.


What am I saying here? I don't know. really. All I know is that I try to live by my choices and how I choose to behave. And in return, I fend for myself and I trust myself to do great things for me. Sure I still care, as a matter of fact, I care too much. However, that will never stop me for looking out for myself when I need to. Just a reality check. Painful but I am just keeping it real.

Failure: It's An Option

I find it particularly interesting and amusing that there are abundant sources of literature on the subject of How To Be Successful, Quickly and even on Averting Failures and Risks. However, there is very little that is written up on how to deal with being unsuccessful, being risk-prone and what to do when you've failed? I suspect it is one particular taboo subject alongside sex and nudity. Or better, one of the most dreaded words in the English language.

We have practically been brought up in a landscape where success, defined in terms of fame, fortune and fans; should be everyone's lifetime goal. The unnecessary stress this brings upon every individual is proven by the unarguable success of pharmaceutical companies making happy pills and the number of very affluent shrinks/therapists as well as cosmetic surgeons.


Something is terribly wrong here.


Growing up in a family where academic achievements defined your future, I chose to be the maverick. I refuse to follow my family's definition of success, much to the pain and chagrin of my parents. Whilst my big brother raked in the honours, I chose to be the apple of the Discipline's Office, The Detention Centre and the Guidance Counsellor. Nope, there was nothing clinically wrong with me, I just refused to be outstanding. However, I was exemplary in matters where Citations were given but they were completely of a different nature. 


I realized that because of this trait, I have become fearless about "failing". You see here, the fear of failure tend to reduce your capacity to stretch and dare yourself. When you're afraid of failing, you're scared to dream; you tend to be catatonic and immobile, fretting over other people's opinions and feelings, instead of yours. You end up feeling comfortable with mediocrity, for as long as it is simple, safe and comfortable enough.

Life is too short to be fearful of failing. Didn't someone say before, "it is not how many times you fall that counts, it is how quickly you can rise up again?" or something like that.


I think the simplest way to live with this is to accept realistically, that Failure, is always an option. This does not mean that you are not going to be giving your challenges your best shot, or that you have reduced your competitiveness. For me it simply means, that there is a possibility that I can fail, so I plan ahead to avoid it. If I still fail nonetheless, I move on. I just know for a fact that whatever you try to do and however you try your damn best to do it, sometimes, things just don't work out. I will not beat myself up for my failures. Shit happens, to the best of us. If shit hasn't happened to you, you'll probably be in for a major enema. Damn, that's going to be tougher!


Failure does not define who you are. The world and its men can call you such, but believe me, it is not your identity.

Just dream on, be reckless, try on new things, do things that will make other people stop and think that you are actually, certifiably insane! Love with all you've got, don't hold back. It can probably cost you a lot, but who cares? Fail everyday! Embrace your frailty and move on. Live a little. Look at the "true" heroes and icons of the world, Vincent Van Gogh for instance, at some point people believed them to be deranged. They could be, but so what?


I follow Buddha's dictum: "The only real failure in life is not to be true to the best one knows." So I choose to tread on and risk, failing and falling, but each time, rising with greater enthusiasm than before. So to life, mankind and the world, bring it on!

The Trouble With Hello Is Goodbye

It has been almost a full year, roughly, by the end of this month, when by forces of nature or fate or whatever you prefer to call it, that I chanced upon Google forum's THE COFFEE SHOP. The experience has so much influenced me that it was the first post I ever wrote on this Blog: The Day I Joined The Coffee Shop

January 2011 was a critical turning point in my life. My mother had an accident that required a total hip replacement surgery. As a consequence of worry and anxiety, this period started my many days, weeks, of sleeplessness, coming face to face with insomnia and my long-term love affair with the Internet-verse, Blogging and loving it. 

Perhaps most of you who read my Blog are part of this extended community in the Google-hood. And if you're not, damn shame, because whilst The Coffee Shop is still on its last stretch, how I wish you would catch it.  This is where in this virtual landscape, that I met the most incredible, diverse, interesting, wonderful, obnoxious, intolerable and lovable people that ever banged upon a keyboard! 


And then there's the Saturday Night Cafe' cum Bar cum Solace Nook. Where "souls" meet and sing and drink and dance or just pass through. Each soul carrying his own life stories; from the past, from the present and well into the future. A corner, practically a small dot in the Internet, where you get the chance to read about one's soul's search for meaning, relentless pursuit of true love, the start of a journey or the end of one, or simply, where one's soul speaks and another soul just listens.

Ay, there's the rub. You say goodbye, I say Hello. The thing about all good things and all bad things, they all come to pass. Pretty soon, if not right at this moment, the landscape will be changed. How things will turn out in the new landscape of virtual interaction is anybody's intelligent guess. Endings are commonplace, it's a given whenever there is a beginning. Some people would say it is the quality of the journey that counts not how it ended. Some people would say it is how you started your quest and why.


I prefer to keep whatever I have learned and built in the entire journey with me as I move on to the next, for very selfish reasons. I have met great friends and they will all be part of my life's treasures. And no one can take that away from me.


Someone did say something smart, sometime to somebody, "In the end we are all separate: our stories, no matter how similar, come to a fork and diverge. We are drawn to each other because of our similarities, but it is our differences that we must learn to respect." And this sums up my insightful experience in The Coffee Shop. 


American film director Orson Welles has a most logical quote about story endings: 

"If you want a happy ending, that depends of course, on where you stop your story."

And To All, A Happy New Year!

A very wise man once said:

Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.  - Einstein

As we start our countdown to celebrating the dawn of 2012, I can't help but smile when I think about the thousand and one "meanings" we attribute to a new year.

For some people I know, it means a whole night of drinking in total abandon and spending the first day of the year in a drunken stupor or with a massive hangover.

For several, it means a little more sedate, like revisiting a tattered list of resolutions made in the past year, only to re-write them again, on a new page, under a different chapter, but pretty much the same list, albeit with minor editions.

For others, it means rekindling old friendships and building new ones. Or trashing old ones and choosing a totally different route. Moving on from past mistakes, making a vow never to take the same route ever. 

All of these, remains to be seen, remains to be lived. We don't know really, there are no guarantees in this life, new year or otherwise.

I take a more simplistic approach to a new year. Something I can wrap my fingers around. Something I can completely and honestly relate with. Here's a quote that sums up, roughly right, my new year dictum; from Anthony Robbins, a motivational speaker in the 21st century:

"Live life fully while you're here. Take care of yourself and your friends. Have fun, be crazy, be weird. Go out and screw up! You're going to anyway, so might as well enjoy the process. Take the opportunity to learn from your mistakes: find the cause of your problem and eliminate it. Don't try to be perfect: just be an excellent example of being human."

Sounds simple enough, but tougher than you think. Being human, characterized by compassion and kindness is fundamentally tough and a stretch for most of us. For me, in particular. I reckon I start from somewhere based on birthright, year on year. And I continue to be a work in progress. The Dalai Lama is right, absolutely everyone in the universe, regardless of race or faith, can not survive without human affection.

If only for a day, or a week, or a month in 2012, people can see and act on an opportunity for kindness for other human beings and other forms of life, then who cares if the Mayans are right? The sun can explode on a universe of mankind that shines brightly in a sea of compassion.

So my dear friends, here's to making an end, a new beginning! My wish for you and yours, a wonderful New Year ahead! Cheers y'all!

DYING YOUNG

It took quite a lot of thinking for me to write this post, but I figured it was something worth writing about. I really don't want to be dampening the holiday spirit but anyway ...


I remember a time in my life when I thought myself to be immortal. I drove fast, hell, I raced. I practically drank everyday and if there was no reason to drink, I will invent one. I love taking risks and daring the devil and found myself in situations when I look back on it today, I still cannot imagine how I managed to get out of it unscathed. Maybe some bruising and wounds, but aren't they supposed to be battle scars?


I remember those great fun times and I remember them.


She was envious of the coming out party of a friend.  So we said we'll make hers even more fabulous. The theme would be rainbow colours because she loved them all. That night, we all left the party irresponsibly drunk, but we had a driver. She was left behind somehow, so the next best thing to do to catch up with us in the Club we would hit was to ride in a bike. Vivian was really tall, statuesque even, because I remember she towered amongst us girls, and to call her a stunner was an understatement. Something went terribly wrong that night. The bike she shared with her cousin skidded when he tried to maneuver away from a big rock on the road, and she flew out of the bike and hit a tree trunk. We were laughing hysterically over nothing in the bar when the news hit us. On the day of her burial, we let go of a 1000 rainbow coloured butterflies.  She never made it to 18 years old.


Olivia had always been goofy looking, but don't let that fool you, she was tops in the Vanity list and her physique was deceiving. We played a mean tandem in the volleyball team. I stopped and tossed, she spiked them hard. She's the only one I know who goes to a parlour before a volleyball match.  Win or lose, she was properly coiffed. She loved life and everything beautiful about it. She always said she had something wrong with her blood, but in those days, who believed who? Everything was said in the spirit of jest and good times. One Saturday, I was told that she was rushed to the hospital, yet she was fussing over her manicure. Apparently, she refused to be ushered into the Emergency Room with her manicure colours cracking. We realized then, that her congenital cerebral disease was truly fatal. She died 2 days later. It was quick, too quick. We missed her spot in the Graduation Ball in High School. She wore her prom dress in her wake. She was vain till the end.


Carol and I are speed freaks. We have a need for speed. We both raced in the Circuit. And Carol was a damn good driver. Carol's family is half-Chinese and extremely superstitious. They believed in signs, stars, numerology, astrology, name it. I guess when she was a young kid, Carol always had an illness or was accident-prone during her birthday month. Her parents always managed to tie her down when she was much younger and kept her in detention before she further harms herself every month of September. Some Chinese I have met believe August or September to be the Death Month. She wasn't supposed to drive, but that day, my big brother had the car and he promised to drop me off wherever we would hang out and collect me back when I wanted him too. We needed one more car, Carol, of course, volunteered. It was one more week before her birthday in September.  Anna, Frieda and Lourdes rode with her. She was not even driving fast, but the truck driver that hit them from behind probably was. Her car toppled twice and hit the side of the road landing on its top. Anna recalled Carol's voice asking if everyone was alright. Everyone was alright but Carol never made it to the hospital.  She died on the spot. She was going to be 21 years old.


I was doing my internship in my graduate school in Psychology when I chanced upon one of my Mom's closest girlfriend, Bernie, in a shopping mall. I have known Aunt Bernie since her kids were babies, Claire and Anton. Anton is a boy genius and I have been cruel enough several times to use him as my lab rat when I was doing my Psychology papers. Claire and I shared a lovely bond, so she took up Psychology because she wanted to be something like me. Aunt Bernie and Claire was out shopping that day, which was the usual time-killing hobby of the people that I call, have tons of money to burn. Claire had just turned 18 and she had a new sports car as a present, and now she wanted to join me in the Special Children's Clinic I was doing internship in, for a paper she had about Autism in her Abnormal Psychology Class. I told her to come over to the Clinic the week after as I will endorse her intent to the Head Clinician. That was October. I never saw her which then I thought was rather odd because Claire sounded so enthusiastic. When December came, one afternoon when I got home, I saw my mother's face fresh with tears and I asked what was wrong. She shakily told me Claire had passed just under a week ago due to some rare viral haemorrhagic fever. I was shocked to say the least. I told my Mother of the brief encounter I had with Claire and Aunt Bernie just a month ago and Claire looked so lovely and healthy. It was completely unbelievable, I said, they lived only 2 blocks away from a good hospital. Apparently, she never took her recurring fevers seriously. (I could swear she felt immortal) By the time they took her to the hospital, she was bleeding in all the holes of her body. I was stumped and completely in denial that the following weekend I drove to their place to check on Aunt Bernie, Anton and Uncle Alex. A caretaker met me at the gate with a Guard. The family had flown to an unknown destination. They left the house, the cars, everything they owned, intact. I was told they just flew with the clothes on their backs and the caretaker has not heard since. I dared a peek and I saw Claire's brand new red Corvette parked in the huge garage along with the other Beamers, Benz and Volvos. So much money and they couldn't save the life of their only daughter. I can only try to feel the agony of being in so much wealth and yet so helpless in the time of death of a loved one. Claire was 18 when she passed and I still remember her bright eyes and very charming smile.

Today, I don't think of myself immortal. I just think I'm blessed and lucky to still be around to enjoy whatever is worth enjoying in this transitory existence. I remember all these girls I have shared my life with and now they are gone; constantly reminding me that I should live my life fully as any time and in any way, it can easily be snatched from my hand. I have so grown up to consider everyday is a day of Thanksgiving. I am thankful I am still alive and whatever it is that is out there I still have to conquer, I will, whilst I still have the time and I still live. Call me foolish, but to everyone who will read this post, Happy Thanksgiving Day!

SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE …

… the more they stay the same.

I was told this is an old French saying but I find it rather apt to declare it quite a universal tenet. Besides DEATH and TAXES, there are certainly a lot more things around us which I reckon would never change. These things may have been with mankind since the Beginning and will probably remain with humanity till the dawn of the Zombie Apocalypse.

For instance:

1.       RACISM

You can argue with me relentlessly about this, but I believe that for as long as our vocabulary and intellect can define discrimination, segregation, bigotry; amongst a few I can think of, there will always be class differentiation as a function of diverse beliefs, lifestyle preferences, religions, colour that naturally breed hatred, intolerance and the conception of superiority of one over the other.

Painful truth but nonetheless if we have learned anything at all, we should know that whilst we can hope for changes, racism will always be here, or there, or everywhere.

2.       WAR AND CONFLICT

Go ahead, pretend to be as wishful (or perhaps tritely, as beautiful) as any of the beauty pageant candidates and dream of World Peace. I hate to burst your bubble, but seriously? The fact is, once there are opposing beliefs, between states and nations, protection or preservation of rights and territory; aggressive competition and downright hostility, (even between two individuals or parties); then we will always be in an open season for war and conflict. We have gone to war for the most stupid reasons, and yet we are. There will never be any winners in a state of war either, albeit human nature loves to win.  At war, there will always be casualties and collateral damages, nobody wins. Period.

Autonomy, freedom, independence and survival – we go to war for reasons that are noble, and we justify our losses for the nobility of the cause, not the insanity of the process.

3.       GEOGRAPHY

I did not invent nor discover it.  I grew up leaning that there will always be the quadrants that divide the earth into polarities. These days I could talk to a friend in France and chat with someone in a Casino in Vegas virtually; share a joke with a friend in Sydney and debate the concept of BPD with a colleague in London. Our globe has shrunk into a small gadget, through fingertip access enabling interaction and communication via the advancement of technology; however, there is no arguing that we will never be able to really close the gap in the “physical distance” sense.

I can’t imagine how to work around the fact that if I wanted to have a more direct, face-to-face and physical interaction with my friends from the different parts of the internet universe, I still have to buy myself an airline ticket to get where they are.  Whilst geography remains a constant, it makes a lot of sense why war and conflict and racism will likewise remain constants.

4.       THE MOST ICONIC 4-LETTER WORD IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE

(Note: for the extra-sensitive readers, if you haven't guessed at this point, this is my Editorial Post.  So if you tend to squirm about certain words, I suggest you stop reading from this point.  Thank you.)

Undefined, debatable and used loosely across scenarios and boundaries of time and space: F-U-C-K.  This word can be used as a noun, a verb, a word intensifier, a descriptive expression, an adverb, an adjective, you name it. We have various reasons for using the word but I fearlessly predict, “fuck” will stay in our vocabulary till kingdom come. 

I have yet to come across another 4-letter word (besides LOVE of course) that has been used in so many different ways and stands alone in a class for its unique versatility. This word has grown tremendously over the last two centuries I don’t believe there is any stopping its momentum.

• We have used it in one whole sentence whose meaning liberates itself from definition: Fuck those fucking fuckers.

• As a descriptive word for a contemptible person: That guy is a total fuck.

• As an expression of disbelief and surprise:  Good grief that is so fucked!

• As a verb to initiate action: Just fuck off! or Go fuck yourself!

• As a word alternative: I don’t give a fuck.

• Or just plain and simple, not profanely but the literal meaning of the word:  “copulation” – They fucked in the car.

Somehow, the vulgar nature of the word has lost its eminence as it is broadly used as part of several iconic songs of this generation and in various musical genres, not limited to gangsta rap and rock. (Trust me, this word is totally overrated but will live on and on.)

5.       CHANGE ITSELF AND THE FEAR OF CHANGE

Humanity’s greatest test, the capacity to change, runs parallel with the attendant nature of mankind - fear of preserving the status quo given the unknown outcomes; risks aversion; and the terrifying threat to one’s current well-being. I quote from the one of the world's most brilliant minds, (the fact that he was a jerk is not the issue here) -

Winston Churchill quotes

Life can either be accepted or changed. If it is not accepted, it must be changed. If it cannot be changed, then it must be accepted.

My Personal Thanks to Bambi!

When my Father died, it wasn't very easy to explain to my little girl why there were so many people weeping and why my mother seemed to be catatonic and inconsolable. I didn't exactly understand how some people can have an endless wave of tears when they have a loss, not until then. When your soul grieves, like mine did, the wave of pain came in succession, albeit intermittently, but each with increasing to eventually decreasing intensity.


Why am I talking about this? I have realized that one of the most difficult things to explain and illustrate to a young child is the meaning of death. Well amongst other things. The beginning of life and where they come from is another challenge altogether. 


I have not taken to the habit of underestimating a child's capacity to understand nor do I discount children's intelligence. I have met a lot of kids with far greater intelligence than their parents. I bet you have to agree with me on that one.


However when it comes to your own children, explaining "death" does not come easy. And this is where I attribute my appreciation to Disney's BAMBI.

Bambi with Thumper and Flower

Well if you will recall the plot of this film, it is not unlike the usual staid formula of any Disney movie. The meaning of friendship, love, ever after and all that jazz. But unlike other Disney movie I have come across myself as a child, Bambi's plot struck me with a certain amount of sadness and melancholy. Growing up, I was unable to discern exactly why. As a grown up, I realized the power of the message the old buck said to the young deer, "your mother can't be with you anymore".


So when my little girl asked me what was going on as she watched me sink lower into depths of grief and agony, I did not have enough strength nor coherence to explain the "loss" I felt, and the thin line that connected my logic to my brain told me to rummage through the old DVDs and watch the movie BAMBI with her. 


Just as my own experience taught me, her tears welled up exactly on the scene where Bambi desperately sought her mother who had already been killed by MAN. And just as conclusively, one of the most unforgettable lines in my entire Disney movie watching history, the father explained the mother's absence to the young fawn.


Right in the middle of our tears as we watched BAMBI, I told my child, my father can't be with us anymore, for he has passed.


Sometimes we ran out of words to express how deeply and intensely we feel about certain situations in our life, I personally feel I owe a lot to this old and simple movie having helped me explain my life's greatest pain.


On this day, El Dia de los Muertos, I write this post in memory of my life's first love and whose love for me have always made me feel like a Princess. I miss you Papa, not a day goes by that I am not missing you.

I Would Like To Say That I Am Good At It ...

 .. but hell, I'm not.  Just being honest here, I suck at "waiting."

If you've ever had to wait, you know what I mean.  Waiting ain't easy, damn, it's hard!

There are a thousand different reasons why we all have to wait.  Some of us wait for seasons.  Some of us wait for things that are pegged on schedules. Whilst some of us probably wait for significant occasions and events. A few may be waiting for answers, solutions, the "right" one, decisions and one of the toughest would likely be, waiting for "what's next?"

Life has its endings and beginnings. But that's the easy part. The trying stage is everything that happens in between endings and beginnings. Arguably you would say, it's not "why" we have to wait that matters, it is "how" we choose to wait. Yeah right, like I said, I suck at it. My rational mind tells me there is a reason for every 'pause' in a man's life but not knowing what is next can be both frustrating and discouraging. 

Perhaps there are some of you that find meaning in the wait; the romanticized wrestling with hope and uncertainty; the element of wonder in your heart that keeps it beating in the anticipation of what happens next; the enigma of trying to grasp at something beyond your reach ... bullocks! I wish I could feel the same sentiments. The waiting without knowing test is something I have consistently failed at. I keep asking myself why I keep getting an opportunity for a re-test! Isn't it always easier for the impatient like I am to say, "Let's get this show on the road and get it done and over with!" Somehow, I have more comfort in languishing with questions like, "why am I still here?; why don't I have it?; why is it taking so long?'; why hasn't this changed?; why isn't this fixed, yet?"

But then again, there are far more challenging and tough reasons for "waiting" and I think about families and loved ones who have been told, possibly the most dreadful set of words in the English language: "We have done everything humanly possible and now all we need to do is WAIT." I just know how that stabs the spirit. When I heard that from the cardio-thoracic surgeon of my Dad, my soul wailed. I reckon our souls know about endings than beginnings.

Look I know. I am not the only human in the "wait" because we all are, for different reasons in varying circumstances. I also know it is never about why we have to wait but rather at how we wing it whist we wait. And it is during these times when my rational mind has run out of meaningful arguments with myself that I throw my hands up in the air and rely on my life's dictum: FAITH IS BEING SURE OF WHAT WE HOPE FOR AND CERTAIN OF WHAT WE DO NOT SEE. 

You see it is not about why we have to wait but it is about believing that what will be, will be. Albeit I am still completely a douche in the waiting game, I "keep my FORK" and I wait.

And now a Story that needs to be shared: 

Keep your fork!

There was a woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things "in order", she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. The woman also requested to be buried with her favorite Bible. Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.


"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.


"What's that?" came the pastor's reply.


"This is very important," the woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."


The pastor stood looking at the woman, not knowing quite what to say. "That surprises you, doesn't it?" the woman asked. "Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor. 


The woman explained. "In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork'.


It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance! So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder 'What's with the fork?'. Then I want you to tell them: "Keep your fork....the best is yet to come".


The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the woman goodbye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She KNEW that something better as coming.


At the funeral people were walking by the woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing and her favorite Bible and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the pastor heard the question "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled. 


During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.


So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you that the best is yet to come… keep your fork!

Raindrops on Roses

 ... and whiskers on kittens.

Know the song?  A timeless classic.
I am feeling totally mellow and uber touchy so I collected a couple of photographs that make me go "Aww ..." I want to share them with you in the hope that one or two of them will be your own favourite and make you smile. It's almost the weekend, I am feeling so stoked!

Kitties in a cozy huddle

warm cupcake cookies with milk

Love & Friendship CAN last a lifetime

Catching a baby's breath whilst yawning

Garden of tulips in springtime

A soft kiss

A candlelit dinner that concludes with

Breakfast in bed

Watching happy kids at play

Colours of Fall

A quiet day at a glorious white sands beach

Kissing in the rain

Watching a promise unfold at sunrise

Staring at a captivating sunset

Ice cream when you're craving for it

A puppy that needs my company

Little creatures like baby otters and

Cute and pink little bunny

Gawking at a soaring eagle AND

Harry Winston diamonds

Yeah, the last one is just keeping it real. I would have posted shoes and bags but my Blog Space is limited.
Note: Photo credits to tumblr and others.  Thank you for your inspiring shots.