i don't feel it anymore

“The end of a melody is not its goal: but nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either."

Love is a funny thing. Like a melody.

You meet someone you didn't know, you talk to them for a minute, and then your heart decides that person is the one, and suddenly you don't remember how you used to spend all your free time before you met them. And you can't imagine life without them. And being together with that person literally makes your blood boil. And you want to never go to sleep because time spent with that person is better than a dream. And when you look at anyone else, you you feel nothing. Because you don't have the void anymore. You have everything a person could ever ask for, and you just can't see it getting any better.

And then you disagree on religionsomething, and then you have a fight that becomes a hundred fights, and then you feel trapped. Unable to move forward. Unable to break free. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. And you can't see the forever you saw in their eyes anymore. And then all of a sudden, it's all gone. For a short while you can't stand the sight of that person. You can't bear to think of them. You wish you'd never met them. You can't see all the joy they brought you anymore, just the pain and hurt. You want to go back and erase every moment you spent together. And then, with time, even that fades. They become like somebody that you used to know.

Time makes it so the vitriol gets replaced with indifference. All the time you spent burning them in effigy now seems stupid. You still can't see any of the good times, but you definitely don't wish a plague of locusts upon them. You're not strangers, but you're not friends. You're not enemies. You're not even nemesis. You're just....nothing.

If the heart is really a muscle, it must be made of the same stuff Wolverine is made of. I'm convinced if any other organ in our bodies went through the crap our hearts went through, none of us would make it.

Because after that entire cycle, just when you're comfortable being in your house playing Arkham Knight, you meet someone else. And you can't remember what color the sky used to be.

END

do you believe in magic

You know, I do believe in magic. I was born and raised in a magic time, in a magic town, among magicians. Oh, most everybody else didn't realise we lived in that web of magic, connected by silver filaments of chance and circumstance. But I knew it all along. When I was twelve years old, the world was my magic lantern, and by its green spirit glow I saw the past, the present and into the future. You probably did too; you just don't recall it. See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to ac tour age. Told to grow up for God's sake.

That used to be me when I was a child. I used to be able to see magic in everything. I used to appreciate the sound of birds singing when I got up. I'd walk over the grass after it had rained and run my hands through the hedge, immersing myself in the coldness that was my environment. I'd smell the earth as rainwater fell on it, look out the window at heavy drops from our sloping roof fall and form puddles on the ground. I kept a bird once. It flew in through the window and broke a wing or whatever - anyway, it couldn't fly out, so I put it in a box and fed it for three days. It died.

And then high school came. And I went to the one school that prides itself on turning boys into men. And they did a number on me. So now I have to every day find new ways to act my age. It used to be that I could sit and wait to be told things. Now I have to take initiative. It used to be that my biggest worry was how I would explain the ink stain on my shirt after I was explicitly told not to carry my pen in there. Now I have a new employee whose career is totally in my hands to be concerned about. It used to be that whenever I went over to one of my friends' house, we'd just sit and play games. Or talk. Now, it's couple things and weddings and game nights and baby christenings. It used to be that when I read a comic (and I read a lot) and there was a new super hero in there, I would in the real world try to emulate their power. I made goggles like Cyclops once, but obviously the laser beam didn't quite work out. Now when I'm watching the movies based on those comics I enjoy them, but I know it's because of the comic relief that allows me to escape from reality, if only for two hours.

When life happened I did what everyone else does. I went to school, and then I went to uni, and then I got a job, and then I got my own house. I remember when I was a kid wondering why the hell my parents came home and said they were tired. I mean all they did was sit at a desk all day long. From where I sat, at least we played games, and practised agriculture by practising it, and learned woodwork by making things out of wood. Plus we were little. Now I have days when I come back home, close my eyes, and wake up a day and a half later. Growing up is tough, because now you're going through everything you thought was ridiculous when you saw the adults in your time go through it. And because you seemingly can't enjoy christmas anymore.

So now I'm about to the next thing everyone does. I need to settle down and start a family. All these cousins making my aunts grand parents every other day aren't helping matters at all. It's like the new rat race now - who has the next generation happening. For the days when my plans included things like recording TRL on MTV.

The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. Life itself does its best to take the memory of that magic away from us. And after you go so far away from it, you can't ever really get it back. You can have seconds of it. When a song stirs a memory, when motes of dust turning in a shaft of light takes our attention from the world, when you listen to a bus passing at night in the distance and wonder where it might be going, you step beyond who are and where you are. For the briefest of instants, you have stepped into the magic realm.

The memories of who I was and where I lived are important to me. They make up a large part of who I'm going to be when my journey winds down. Maybe later when I have my own children, I'll try a little to make sure they hold on to that magic longer than I did. Maybe they'll be able to use that green lantern to work up an amazing future for themselves.

END

nobody's perfect

It must be really hard being a woman. Like cosmic hard. Knowing you're the weaker sex not because you're really weaker but because of how strength has come to be defined. Knowing that for the rest of your life you'll always have to work that much harder just to get what others get in their sleep - because they're the ones handing out the awards. Having to grow up in a world that's basically an old boys' club with no old girls' club to take you in. Spending your whole life replacing every reference you can find of 'weaker' in 'weaker sex' with 'fairer', but knowing in your heart that it's really just a euphemism. Living in a world that considers exceeding mankind's former abilities extraordinary for men; but merely matching man the glass ceiling for you, the woman. Listening to everything around you, including other women, tell you where your place is, and how it wasn't kosher to try and rise above it. First having to defend your right to even be present before you can start agitating to be heard.

Having a personality that you take pride in, but that you have to watch recede; sometimes for the rest of your life. Having to watch it recede just so you can enable the dreams of another. Having to have your validation come from his. Going back home everyday to a man that agrees with society on how much success is too much for you; wanting you behind him always, to say yes to his whims and I'm sorry to his disappointments. Having to make yourself smaller so that he may shine. Submitting in every way he needs you to, and in so doing killing who you were and becoming a component of the man. The man you gave your heart to. Literally.

When I was growing up, I always saw myself as the kind of man that would pay mind to this plight. I always thought I would realise how equal we were, in that our different strengths were meant to be complementary to each other. I thought that when presented with the chance, I would cede control to the both of us rather than wield it as I had seen others before me. I was proud of the image of me I had in my mind. My idea of power then was always one of balance. Passing it on to those who may be able to apply it better than yourself. Doing so with nothing compelling you to other than it is the right thing to do.

That image has been shattered. I've been walking down memory recently. Thinking about how I've treated the women in my life. I have received some valuable insight as to what it must take to commit crime. All you have to do is believe in your heart that it isn't wrong. I was mean to them. I belittled them. I berated their intelligence. I uttered, and not once, phrases like, "You will learn your place." I did do some good things for them, but as it turns out, they weren't enough for the cost, which was their self worth. I treated them like they should be beholden to me for just being with them. I treated them like the world treats women - second rate. Only deserving of second place. To be seen and not heard. The one thing I thought I had actively avoided (by reading and re-reading copies of Lean In et al), I had become. It's interesting, isn't it, how you can be one thing to yourself and the complete opposite in reality and not even know it. Bad people must really believe they're changing the world. They must not know they're breaking it. Otherwise why would they?

The first step towards recovery is admitting there's a problem.

So, "Hi. My name is Colin, and I'm a male chauvinist."

END

between raising hell and amazing grace

It's been exactly one year - to the day - since I was last here. The year has been ... eventful to say the least. Anyway.

The story of Job is a very interesting one. Here is a man whom God Himself holds up as a paragon of integrity. And the devil is like, but you've given him so much. Of course he worships you, what else would he do. "Ok, then. Let's see," says God to the devil. So the devil starts taking everything away from Job one by one, until he has nothing left. And Job reacts, "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be His name." Obviously the devil is not happy, so he goes after Job's own health. Job gets condemned so publicly that even his three closest friends who were standing by him start to admonish him. They assume he must have done something really bad to deserve what was happening to him. "Is not your wickedness great? Are not your sins endless?" They ask him.

In his human nature, Job does not understand why all this is happening to someone who was faithful to God all his life. He cries out to the Lord and calls him to account. "If I have sinned, what have I done to you, oh watcher of men? Why have you made me your target?" he challenges God. But the Lord stays hidden from him. Job gives up. "My spirit is broken. My days are cut short," he laments.

And then God finally does come back to him. But not to answer his questions. He walks Job through a wilderness appreciation tour, highlighting all the majesties and splendour of nature. His point: until you know what it takes to run a physical universe, don't tell me how to run a moral one. However, in all their interactions, God never accuses Job of sinning against Him. He admonishes him for calling His fairness into account, but never for sinning. 

In the end, Job himself does come round to repenting, but again, not for railing against God. "Surely I spoke of things I did not understand. Things too wonderful for me to know." This is what he repents for.

There's a lot of stories you can take out of the book of Job. But two I find most compelling right now: 1) you will go through suffering and you won't know why until God reveals it to you; and 2) while you're suffering you can tell all that to God. Throw at him your anger, your disappointment, your grief and your doubt. God is bigger than we are - he can take it all.

So the last time I did this, I was reminded of a story my dad told me. He said, "I know that I went out of my way to serve the Lord, and it has been well with me."

Given his condition now, and the things that have been happening, I'm thinking, has it? Job had a lot of grace, and he sounds like he was a very strong person. He waited a lifetime for God to reveal Himself. I don't know if I'm built that way. I don't know how long I can hold out for.

They say God doesn't let you go through anything He hasn't already equipped you to handle. Ok, then, let's see.

END

drowning on dry land

Sometime I cry. It's becoming clear to me when. I cry when I feel I have no control. I cry when I feel like the choice isn't mine. Like everything is in someone else's hands and I'm just an unwilling participant. Like I know what I want but I also know I'm not going to get it no matter what I do. I cry when I'm angry. I cry when I sense oppression from forces I can't control. But even more than that, I cry when I feel like I am a good man stuck in an adverse situation. I cry when I feel like I don't deserve what's happening to me.

I have always been able to lash out and express myself whenever I was dissatisfied with anything. I have always taken comfort in the thought that no matter what, at least my thoughts were always my own. Not anyone else's. But not lately. It's taken me a minute to get here, these are things I cannot so easily talk about. I've recently been through one of those moments, when you wish you were never born, or were born under different circumstances. In that moment, I felt like there was more on my shoulders than they were wont to bear.

The classic defintion of selfishness to me came from one Oscar Wilde. Selfishness is not living as one wishes. It is asking others to live is one wishes. There was an argument when I was at home. It was bad. And I have had nightmares about it ever since it happened. It started as something small but when it was over my life was completely changed by it. I still don't know if I can talk about it, but I know two nights don't go by when I don't think about it. This is the second time now in my life that I have wished I could tell the future. So that I would look and see what the consquences of my current actions would be before I committed them. And not just consequences on me, but on the people around me.

Maybe one day I will be able to talk about these things openly. Maybe one day I won't have those nightmares. And maybe when it's my turn and I have my own sacrifices to make, I'll do what I think was the right thing to do. I hope I won't be selfish. I hope I won't be supremacist. And I hope I will have the wherewithall to listen. But for now, for now I must continue to block that weekend. It's a sad day when someone like me can't say what they really want to say. Because that day, I'm not myself. The person that I am doesn't exist anymore. Something happened that weekend that I can't ever take back. And I can't talk about it. So I cry. And it's not the good kind.

END

you're a runner, and i am my father's son

Jacob had 12 sons. Joseph was his youngest, and was his favorite.One night Joseph had a dream. They were all out harvesting corn, and the other 11 brothers' sheafs bowed down to his. He told them about it, and they laughed at him. Then the next night he went and had another dream: this time the sun, the moon and eleven stars all bowed down to him. His father called it an abomination. But God was making him a promise. One day, all these people you see around you will bow down before you.

The next thing that happened was, as we all know, Joseph's brothers, being exceedingly human, sold him off into slavery and told his father that he was dead. Just like that. One night, you dream you're going to be king, the next night, the people you will supposedly reign over sell you off into slavery, never to be seen or heard from again.

I think this tells us one very fundamental thing about God's promises to us, something we don't always remember - he promises us a happy end. He does not promise us a  smooth ride there. On the contrary, we know we shall get tested. And that it will be very difficult to hold onto the dream. This is what the guy at church last week was speaking about. It was one of very few sermons that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

It's been a rough two months. And I have found myself questioning this promise of prosperity. Both about myself and about my parents. I've always known this in principle, but now I think I know it for a fact - the government is the most thankless employer. You have to be cut out of a special cloth to have a successful career with those people. 

On this random day about two years ago, I woke up to continuing soft sobs from their room. It was my mother sobbing. I immediately thought the worst. I've written here before that you don't want to hear your mother crying, I meant it, coz I've been there. So I quickly rushed over to see what was going on. It turns out, it was something that had been building up over time, and had just come to a head that weekend. My dad had thrown himself into his work coz they gave him a school to run that basically wasn't a school, so he had to build it from the ground up with his own hands literally sometimes. In the process of giving his all to his employer, he dropped the ball a little on the home front. Or a lot. So my mum had been feeling neglected. She felt he didn't care that much about her and she wasn't number one anymore. And a lot of things had happened in between also to drive this impression further in her mind.

Anyway, he didn't get four stars and a big bonus in appreciation of the stunning results he delivered. Because it cost him part of his marriage, but he did deliver. No gold crown for him or anything. He instead got shipped off to the back of beyond to start all over again. With even more trials and tribulations. And he loves challenges so I guess maybe that in itself was reward to him. So of course he went. And from what I'm hearing he's taken the troubles as his own children. Like he always does. And he's my icon so I'm partly on his side, so I said to my mum what Khalil Gibran would have said, "Let him be. He's being the change he wants to see in the world." And then she asked, "But while he's out there changing the world where am I?" I didn't really have an answer.

It took a very long time, and in the interim he had to go to jail even, but Joseph finally got elevated by Pharaoh above everyone else in the kingdom but him. And when the rest of the world didn't have any food for 7 years, Egypt prospered under Joseph's watch. And so it came to pass that his father and eleven brothers did end up bowing before him. Just as he'd dreamt a hundred years ago. Just like God had promised him. God does not promise us a smooth life. But he does promise that the plans he has for us are plans to prosper. Plans for good and not for evil. And that everything will work together for good for them that love Him.

I don't know if a lot of people know this, but Rick Warren's wife suffered breast cancer and had to have a double mastectomy. During the ordeal, he came out and said, "I used to think life alternates. I used to think it was a series of valleys and hills. That after every period of suffering will come a period of comic relief. I don't anymore. I now believe it's like a railway track. There's good, and there's evil. And they run together in parallel. Which you focus on is entirely up to you." I'm trying to find the good in everything that happens to me.

END

i taught myself how to grow old

The story goes: two newborn babies are lying side by side in a hospital and they glance at each other. 90 years later, through remarkable coincidence, they find themselves lying across from each other on their deathbeds, and they glance at each other again. "So what did you think?" asks one to the other.

Everything remaining constant, it's going to be a very long time before any of us has to answer that question. But I think life is made up of milestones, and I think the way it works is certain milestones come quicker than others. Past a certain age, everything happens at lightning speed. And I think we've passed that age now. Time shifts into overdrive and from here on out everything's gonna fly past in the blink of an eye. So if you had to answer that question today, what would you say?

I learned from my father at a very young age that in life you will only ever get entrusted with as much as you show yourself capable of handling. The way I understood it at the time is that there were going to be standard tests sort of every so often, and if you pass one then you'd have earned the right to move on to the next (bigger) stage. School was definitely like that, and I blew past that. But as far as the rest of life goes, I've been thinking about it, and I think maybe there's certain stages I may have missed out on.

When I was in primary school there used to be occasional scandals where a boy would look at a girl, fall in love with them, and of course, being 13, would go and write that girl a little love letter telling her how his heart quavers like the West African  tom tom drums every time she walks by. And the girl would read it and hide in her desk so she could read it again and giggle silently, then like clockwork she'd do it during class and the teacher would see her, ask for it, and call them both forward and call them little devils and unfocused and failures and everything you can think of in primary school that means you're not going to amount to much in life. Then proceed to cane them to high heavens. See I was a winner in primary school, so I never did any of that. That was for those other mere mortals. I actually remember getting special mention for being the only guy who hasn't yet fallen prey to this evil that is attraction to girls. [not in those exact words] I was proud then. I'm not so sure now. I think that attitude that I developed then set me back some.

I have a friend now who used to be someone completely different when he was in high school. He's the guy that never went to any class on time. He was huge. He had a afro. Played rugby. Snuck out of school and went to clubs. Watched racy movies on the school library TV at midnight. He's the one every girl would gravitate towards during functions because he had such interesting stories to tell. He was the cool guy. He was the bane of everyone-in-authority's existence, but he was the idol of every other person (namely the rest of the students). So he had some tough times. Got suspended. Went to jail a little bit. Clashed with his parents. But still made it through high school in one piece. And then later on got serious about life and became like me. Became the person I've always been. I listen to him speaking now and he's been through so much that I think he's got a much stronger composition than I have. He sounds like he's a hundred years old and he's only my age. I sound like that too sometimes, but it's coz I watch TV and read. He's been there. He's literally seen it all. And he's still standing. So I'm wondering if the bubble I lived in left me weak. I seem strong. I seem like I'm doing well. But truth is I've never really had to stand against any adversity. How would I fare? He'd definitely eat it all up and get up the next morning for more. Would I?

How many moments do you have in your life that you can look back on and say "That's when it all changed." Do you even have any? I'm not sure I do. I think when I was 12, you could look at me and predict where I'd be when I was 22, and you'd more likely than not be right. Now don't get me wrong, I'm grateful. My life's trajectory has probably been constant because it's never had to change. God's been good to me all my life. I'm not sure I'd want it any other way. But Bill Gates says success is a lousy teacher; it seduces smart people into thinking they can't lose. "I failed at some subjects in college. My friend got everything right. He's now an engineer at Microsoft." So I can't help but wonder, if I hadn't been so successful the first time round; if I had been the cool guy instead of the smart guy, would I be a different person right now? Have I missed out on any larger purpose?

END

deterioration of the fight or flight response

How do birds do it? Fly thousands of miles halfway across the world and still find their mark? And come back again in spring when it's nice and warm. Wildebeest? How do penguins do it? They live in the snowy mountains. Everything's white and looks like everything else. How do they figure out where home is? How can they tell they're going in the right direction? And how do they never get lost along the way? And the very first time, how do they know they've arrived, never having been where they're going before?

When you can't see the future, when you don't know what dreams may come, when you're not sure whether or not this was supposed to be The One for you - how do you know when it's time to stop fighting and let go? I don't want to be that guy ten years later looking back wondering if I threw away a lifetime of happiness over a stubborn disposition. But I also don't want to be that guy who turns the other cheek and says "Please, slap me again." I like to think when I have a stand to make, I'll be able to get the courage to make it. And for the rest of my life I'll be able to live with my choices. But it's just so damn hard without knowing.

Two things I know about myself that I didn't a year ago: I'm not chauvinistic, but I do like to be made to feel like I'm in charge. I hate it when people don't make sense. I hate it when something's so obvious to me but other people can't seem to see it. I hate everything that's not rooted in logic (so naturally I love my blog). And two, I'm a needy person. And I'm not as strong lonely as I thought I was. When I fall for someone, I fall hard. Hard. So in a sense, I'm just like everyone else. I'm really not the superman I thought I was.

So I'm at that point now. We got into a fight, repeatedly. The same fight. And if you ask me, what's at the root of it all is respect and compromise. I feel I keep bending over backwards, and she doesn't meet me halfway. She feels I'm rude and I don't respect her or treat her like a queen. We've been here before. And we got through it every time. But I think we got through it because I was always willing to extend an unconditional olive branch. I think I give and I give and I give, and I don't know if I can live like that for the rest of my life. It's supposed to be a cycle, is it not? Now you give, now you receive. If it just keeps being one-sided, I think one of the people will lose themselves. And maybe some people are fine with that-personalities differ, right? But not me. The third thing I know about myself, and have always suspected, is that I have to be allowed to BE me. I've won too many times at too many things in the past to doubt myself.

I saw an episode on one of my all-times (One Tree Hill) where Andy and Lucas' mum were breaking up. He was moving back to Australia coz Dan got him deported, and she wouldn't go with him even though she seemingly didn't have a reason not to. So as he walks out the final time she's like, "Andy, I love you, you know." And he goes, "I know, Karen. But somehow that just doesn't seem to be enough." And he walked away. Right now, I know where I wanna go with this girl. I just don't know how to get there. Or if it's worth it anymore to even try. I need help.

END

the film did not go round

I wonder how princesses used to be able to tell when a frog was just a frog and when it was going to turn into a handsome prince. Because surely it must be unhealthy to just kiss frogs randomly and hope for the best, no? In fact, I know it is. Because I think I just kissed one, and it didn't turn into a beautiful princess. Or it did but preferred another prince. Either way, this story doesn't have a happy ending. 

How does it happen that a guy misreads a girl so deeply? Like they're not just on different pages, they're not even reading the same book? Why aren't all people made the same way, that if they do one thing they all do it with the same intention? Why are feelings so hard to turn off when it counts, when the stakes are really high, so to speak; and easy when it doesn't? Why would two people be perfectly matched in EVERY little way except the one that matters the most? And these people who tell us to wear our hearts on our sleeves, have they really ever had their hearts broken? And why does the freaking sun come up at 4??? These are some of the things that run through my mind these days.

I met a girl. I didn't like her at first, because we met and then didn't again for a while. But then the next time I did. I think I fell for her. Hard. And I thought she felt the same way. We exchanged numbers. We watched stupid ads on youtube. We sat and talked deep into the night. We went out and stargazed. I showed her my life and she showed me the township she grew up in. I made her listen to the music in my heart and she made me listen to the music in hers. I cheered her on when she was in the exam room and she cheered me on when I was in the firing room. We went for pizza. We had Krushers. We played around with doors with chain locks. We saw a film. We unpacked our pasts to each other. We were ourselves around each other. We were happy together, we were sad together. We shared our dreams with each other. We sat next to each other in front of the fire heater. We held hands. We gave each other little presents. We thought about each other when something amazing happened and we weren't together. We made each other laugh. We had inside jokes. We shared poetry. We debated accents and philosophies. We built each other up. We took pictures of each other, with each other. We connected. We slept. We woke up late. We made plans.

It was all like walking through a field of hopes and dreams. I told my friends about her, she told her friends about me. It was like we were made for each other.

Only we weren't. Or apparently I wasn't made for her. It's like I've lost something I never really had. It's literally like when you take a picture with an old camera, and the shutter clicks so you know the picture's been taken, but the film does not go round so it ends up not being recorded.

I heard this on TV once, that perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically to those who hardly think about us in return. While it's not fair to say the one I gave mine to hardly thinks about me, it damn near feels that way.

There's lots of stuff we endure as human beings. This awareness that we have been blessed with, I think it is both our greatest gift and our worst curse. Because of it rejection's gotta be the hardest thing we ever have to go through; because we know not just what it's like when we're going through it, but what it would have been like had we not been rejected. And it's not just me that thinks that. 30 million owners of Adele's record agree with me.

Michael Jordan had a lot to say about life. And rightly so, he led a pretty amazing one. He says he became who he was because for every shot he made he missed a hundred others, and yet he kept on shooting. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take, he said. And I ate it all up. I judged everyone who let opportunities pass them by because they were too afraid to try. I belittled people who weren't willing to risk it all. Asked them derisively what their last thought would be if they got hit by a bus the next day. But now I think different. Now, I'm thinking: when you've only got one shot to take, and you take it and you miss, what's the difference?

If you're one of those people that looks for a silver lining everywhere, here's the one in this situation: I'm writing again... Or at least I hope I am.

END

in between days

Wondering whether I should actually do an elaborate plan for the next five years of my life. We're at that point at work where you set your goals for the next six months and evaluate progress against the ones you did last six months. See the thing about setting these goals, and making all these plans, especially the longterm five-year ones, is that you always go assuming that the current landscape will carry into the future. Even if you anticipate change, that anticipation is always based within the confines of what we've seen today, due that inherent inability we all have: none of us can predict the future. So what if the changes are so drastic they render all our plans worthless?

When we were growing up, there used to be all these people (teachers mostly) who'd imbue us with line after line after textbook line going something like "Failing to plan is planning to fail," or "Expect the best but plan for the worst," or my personal favorite "Planning is bringing the future into the present so you can do something about it now." The general vein was always this: if you want to be successful, you must plan ahead. But no one ever went so far as to define what they meant by "ahead." Should you plan what you'll be doing tomorrow afternoon? Over the weekend? Next month? Or who you will be five years from now. See even when we were in school, despite choosing subjects and courses and stuff based on what we thought we wanted to become, I don't think we were really working towards a plan. We were just following the well-beaten path. Our lives were never abstract. You get born. Go to school, primary, secondary, uni (where there's a whole JAB whose job is to assign courses to people), and then look for a job. So now that part is over for me. The next part is a little more uncharted, and yes I do get a lot of advice and everything on what I should do next, but it's always something figurative like be the best you you can be.

And while there's obviously something to be said for planning, what about creativity? Innovation? Openness to opportunity, whatever it may be? "Great achievement has no roadmap." went someone on an episode of The West Wing. You'll be surprised how many things were invented as a by the way. Fleming discovered penicillin by accident when he was studying certain bacteria. Mozart and Franz Joseph Haydn didn't study the classics; they created them. A guy takes his dog out for a walk, notices blackjack stuck onto the dog's clothes and his trousers, takes a closer look, and out comes Velcro. All the way till gravity, and the Archimedes principle (all that guy had to do was take a bath - imagine that). These people did not go out looking for those opportunities. All they did was kept an open mind. And opened their eyes to the world around them. Why don't we live like that any more? It clearly worked for them. But not us, no. We all need to know where we're headed and how it'll benefit us, and we need to know it now.

Henry David Thoreau, having lived in seclusion for a bunch of years in order to discover the true meaning of life (as a sort of declaration of independence), came back and wrote that "... the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation." It appears we've become enslaved by the processes we've created ourselves, and now we can't break free because it's become a vicious cycle. "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans," goes that Simple Plan song. If only we could just live one day to the next, and not feel guilty about it, and let discovery be an end to itself...

END

you gotta go there to come back

Had an interesting talk recently with this friend I ran into on the streets on my way to work. Apparently at some point she just up and decided to get serious with God, and she completely changed her life over. Stopped doing the things she used to do, you know, like rave, changed her music, now reads the Bible for fun et al. I dono if this makes me come across as psycho, but I've always been envious of people like that. You know, people who've been to the other side. People who had an (for lack of a better word) illustrious childhood. I've always felt in my mind that those people make better Christians than, say, someone who's always been brought up with Christian values. Someone like me. Because those people know the difference. They have a direct frame of reference between how their life is now and how it was then, and they can tell exactly what it is that was missing before they really got saved.

You know the way astronomers are always telling us how the earth goes round once every day and revolves round the sun once every year, but we never feel as though it's moving. The reason is it's been moving ever since we were born, so we don't know any different. It's like when you've been in the dark for a long time and then you suddenly came into the light, I think you're better placed to see how the light changes your life than someone who's always been in said light. For us, guys like that, it must partly be a case of familiarity breeding contempt, that we can never seem to have the fire that new converts have [well, at least I don't think I do]. Things that to me have become routine tasks like prayer and meditation, still hold that magic touch to these [new] people. They still do it because they want to do it, not coz they're used to, or coz they think they should. It's not a chore to them. So I think results to them come easier than they do to the rest of us - they still have that purity of mind.

When photographers want to make an object stand out better when composing a scene, one of the things they do is turn up the contrast. I think that's what I'm [and others like me are] lacking: contrast. I don't really know what it's like to not be who I've always been. I can't really point to the void the Holy Spirit fills in my life once I accept him, coz I've never been consciously aware of it. This other friend put it very philosophically: those who are forgiven much tend to love more [which is actually in the Bible]. I don't feel as though I've been forgiven that much, because other than the original sin I can't point to any other major misdemeanors [nevermind that there's no big or small sin]. I was born when my parents weren't saved, but they converted when I was four, so I've never known any other life.

I don't even know what kind of wishful thinking this is - basically it's like I want to have lived on the dark side so that when I met Christ I could see what's changed. I guess it would be much easier for me to just pray that He reveals His presence in my life every now and again in not-every-day ways. Just so I know He's still there and all this good stuff isn't happening to me just because. And so I can identify clearly where in my life He fits. Maybe then it will be much easier for me to put Him first, which is where He should be. And it'll be easier for me to maintain the moral high ground I've theoretically built over the years. This speaker at church last Sunday said that was the only difference between us and the rest of the world - everything else you achieve you can do so in a worldly fashion, but the morality, that one you need God for, and that's what will set us apart. Being salt to the earth is not easy, and it's even harder when you don't know how to describe the feeling. I'm supposed to be the salt of the earth, so ya, I guess I'm asking for a deeper understanding.

END

life in a glass house

They say the life unexamined may not be worth living. But then the life too closely examined may not be lived at all!

So I got this new job, as by now I'm sure you know. And now they're shipping me off down south for two weeks, training. Anyway, I called this friend of mine up about an unrelated matter, and it came up and he had all these questions. Apparently, it has been a while since we last met and there's all these things we don't know about each other, starting with that he was mugged, and I left my old job. So he went and created a checklist, things I've done since last year. And we started going through it ticking off things one by one. Wow, it was a lot of stuff, as it turns out.

And that's even before you count the new horizon that's just opened up. I started last week, but so far it's just been reading manuals, getting oriented and feeling out of place coz it's a really close-knit office and everyone's got all this history (also I'm gonna be like the only person here in my department - everyone else works in SA). Perhaps I should also ask myself these questions my friend was asking? I went bowling with people from my old job during the week, like a sort of farewell. Then today another one was wedding so I also got to meet a few other ex-colleagues. Gotta say, a bunch of them looked happy still, and I know for a fact life has really improved for them since I've been gone (read upto 50pc increases in salaries). But I still don't think I made the wrong choice moving.

It's a whole new field, so I'm like an empty pitcher of water, just waiting to be filled up. The first thing my new local boss told me when I got in is that there they depend on a culture of trust between employer and employee. Trust that when given a task, it'll be done when you say it will be, or when required. Trust that meetings scheduled for 10 will start at 10. Trust that when you have to cut out early, you really do, and you're not just taking advantage of the freedom. Trust that when you charge an expense to the company credit card, you made sure it was business-related first. In other words, you're expected to deliver, and you're given a lot of autonomy. I swear, he was saying all these things, and all I was hearing was music. Sweet, beautiful music. [oh, ya, in case it was missed somewhere in there, I get a company credit card. With an obscenely large limit].

You could say I'm well on the way to making it. So my friend then moves to the next item on his checklist of me - girlfriend? Huh. Now he's got me thinking about relationships. Do I need someone to hold my hand? Do I need someone to share my joys and sorrows with? Do I need someone to hold me together when I come apart at the seams? Do I need someone looking closely at me, watching over my every step, and asking me all the questions that will [in Anderson Cooper's words] keep me honest? I'm drawing a blank, so let's just say I'll know when I get there. However, I've heard this before, and I agree "...The most challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you find someone who loves the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." 

I'm leaving for SA on Monday, which is very exciting. So obviously for now, I think it's enough that I have the promise of a new job. What's it offering, you ask? The world. Only the world.

END

here comes a regular

Towards the end of high school, when we were all selecting courses for uni, sometimes I think I was more selecting what uni I wanted to go to than what course I wanted, because coincidentally or otherwise all of my choices ended up being at the University of Nairobi. I actually remember it was really important in my mind that I be called into that uni. See I was the guy from the small town who moved to an even smaller one when he was 12, so I've always known who my neighbours were. What their children were allergic to. Where they went on holiday. Who was sleeping with whom... You know how guys make a career out of spying on celebs in Hollywood? Now at our place everyone was a celebrity, and everyone else was paparazzi. So I wanted to come see how it's like in a big town. Yes because the city held untold potential for adventure and exposure, but also because of the allure it held of anonymity. Here no one seemed to care about the person sitting next to them. No one butted their heads into anyone else's business. Your private affairs remained your private affairs. And more than that, people actually stayed with their doors closed all day (I think us people used to only close the door at like 11 when we're going to sleep, otherwise it stays wide open which really used to irritate me.) I've always been the aloof kind, so here was a place where people were aloof like they were getting paid. It was like I'd died and gone to heaven. Whatever the reason, I must be blest coz I got in.

I'd thought it would be a chance to start all over. To recreate myself. To boot any habits I was ashamed of and start doing things I'd always dreamed of. Coz here, no one knew me. The persona they got to meet was whatever I painted it out to be. Ha! It was a lot more difficult than I'd thought it to be. Turns out you can't just conjure up a new future and put it in the microwave and come collect it ready after 10 minutes. All those Greek and Roman philosophers who're all like "The best way to predict your future is to create it yourself," well, I don't think they were speaking in the context of today's world. Our childhoods are much more ingrained in us than one would imagine. Instinct is called instinct exactly because of that - that it's inborn; that you don't think about it; that it just comes and you almost can't prevent it. Once you establish a habit it sticks with you.

And so it came to pass that despite the fact that I had two chances (I switched faculties in between) all of my quirks from my past were carried on into my next life. The inability to dance/sing, laughing at times I shouldn't be laughing (and not at Ben Stiller, Tyler Perry and Adam Sandler movies), fear of creepy crawlies that move really fast, the dark humor, coyness, automatically distancing myself from my surroundings, dislike for happy yippee loud and crowd events, are a few of the things that still describe me 8 years after I tried to rid myself of them. Apparently the extent to which we can rewrite our fates is a little less boundless than I used to think it was. While some things are within our control, not everything is. At some point, obviously, Barack Obama became the poster boy for dreams, and even he acknowledges some of those limits: "You are probably not that good a rapper. Maybe you're the next Lil Wayne, but maybe not, in which case you need to stay in school."

I'm thinking this time now that I'm changing jobs and have that chance again, I won't even try. I'll just go in with a blank mind and let be whatever comes up. I'm gonna believe that the world is my oyster, and with any luck, like Macbeth, chance my yet crown me king.

"You are what you repeatedly do," said Aristotle. He should just have said I am what I've been repeatedly doing since I was a child.

END

the tide that left and never came back

This is probably one of the 50 most clichéd sentiments out there, but hell, it's true for me: I've never been very good at goodbyes. Mostly it's coz I don't get as attached as other people do. To places, to people, to things. I'm an out-of-mind-out-of-sight guy. So making a clean break is almost never a big deal. Today was my last day in the office as an employee. Officially anyway, in my mind the beginning of the end came a long time ago when I handed in that resignation. After that it was really all just a matter of time. Been thinking about the things I'll miss the most about that place. And I've come up with a surprisingly short list.

The people. My department (or service line as they call them) was the largest. They used to huddle us in this open hall six sizes too small with a bench-table running all across the center and the edges, so we literally used to share everything. Made finding space a biatch if you come later than 6 in the morning, but it made it that much easier for us to get to know each other. I've met some brilliant minds there. People who sharpened me, and people who tested me and helped broaden my boundaries. Funny people. Happy people. Dissociable people. Sensitive people. According to the HR manual, its people are its most valuable resource. There I agree with them.

The freedom. You could almost never catch someone butting their nose into your business. As long as you were delivering when you were supposed to be, it mattered very little that you skipped the odd Monday. Or that you cut out early thrice every week. The times when you weren't on an assignment were really your own to a very large extent. It's how I survived two years having gone on leave only once, and even then it was forced leave. Here it also helped that we were so many and no one had a desk assigned to them, so to notice you're missing someone had to specifically be looking for you. As far as 9 to 5's go, I think  external audit will be pretty hard to beat.

The attitude. You tell someone you're from a  Big Four firm and immediately they shut up and pay attention! You're probably someone they wanna listen to. While you're on the client's turf you're a God. You're supposed to be the catch-all know-all who'll have the solution to all their problems. It works numbers on the self esteem. You're an outsider so the rules that bind everyone else don't really apply to you. You can walk up to anyone anytime and ask them anything and not fear intimidation because they're not really your boss. Plus there's that whole aura - We're the external auditors. It's like we're from the FBI, you know? Anything we want we get. [most times it wasn't like that, but every once in a while we used to hit pay dirt].

Traditionally, when someone is leaving there's an email we send out with our last words. Some people use a form letter, but I, being me, chose to do my own, on my own terms. In it, I wrote to the management that I would forever be grateful that they took the chance on me. And that part I meant. I was as green as they come when they hired me. They took a bet and it paid off, for them and for me. There's all these things I liked about the place, and then there's all these things that made me want to down the tools and walk away. It's duality, like Charles Dickens described in A Tale of Two Cities: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us.

I used to dream about the day I'd leave. It would be dramatic, like something out of a movie. I'd be the last person, I'd take a long, pensive look around, then I'd breathe deep, shut off the lights and there would be complete darkness; and then I'd close the door behind me. And just like that, a chapter in my life would be closed. Well, it didn't happen exactly like that. I guess I'll have to save that for next time. Although the way I'm feeling about this new job, that won't be very soon.

END

lifetime piling up

I am now ready to admit - chronicling is not an easy thing to do with consistency. Especially a life as gripping oft-uninspired as mine. And especially when you're waiting for big things to happen that just don't seem to be coming through. And also in May (for some reason May's always been a writer's block month for me - still trynna figure out why. It's possible I may publish a paper when I do :) Anyway, I'm doing this new thing where I face my fears (except for karaoke and dancing - which I swear is a physical thing, I really can't sing or dance)

Most times, to most people, change is not a very welcome thing. Most people will spend their last breath fighting to maintain the status quo. Most times, even when it's for the better, people will resist change just for its own sake, me included. Most times. But this is one of those rarest of moments when I'm actually trying to seek it out. We moved offices to a (much further from everywhere important, less safe, less glamorous, less accessible) much less congested address that we own, as opposed to renting where everyone else is. Gotta say, tho, thumbs up to the firm for creating the new premises - those offices are such a trade-up (everything I just said about the location regardless).

But that's about all. They're trying to do this thing where everyone sits everywhere so that people from every department can get to know everyone else, but I don't think that part's working out very well - people just sit where other people they know are seated. None of the work processes has changed. None of the last minute rush mentality has changed. The virtues of work-till-you-drop-and-then-stand-up-and-continue-working are still being extolled all over. And none of the drabness I've been sensing lately has waned. It's really just old wine in a new wineskin.

So I want to move. Departments, companies, whatever. And now I want it really badly. Every passing day just underscores this for me. We're going through annual reviews as we speak, and I'm sure I'm going to come out shining - which is how I know I now fit the definition of a professional. The magic's just not there any more. I guess you could say we're past the honeymoon phase and now we're all about finding fault with each other, me and my job. I don't want to sound ungrateful - it's much better than not having a job at all. In fact, it's much better than having most kinds of jobs out there. But I also don't wanna settle just for the sake. It's always been OK to dream, right? So I'm dreaming.

I don't like change, just like everyone else. It freaks me out too. But I'm finding that even more than that, I reeeally don't like stasis. Sharks are of necessity among the most active creatures. Legend has it if they stop swimming, they die. I feel as though I've stopped swimming, and I think I might be a little like sharks that way. And I'm really hoping that God is still on my side, coz my shoulders aren't big enough for burdens like this one. Johann Franck wrote a splendid verse around 1650 in German whose English translation I think is actually better:

I defy the old Dragon

I defy the jaws of death

I defy fear as well!

The world may rage and quake

But I remain singing in

perfect peace.

God's might takes care of me

earth and abyss must fall silent

however much they rumble on.

It sounds a little dramatic, I know, but I'm really just trynna conquer life one mountain at a time. Except the mountains keep getting bigger and bigger. Myles Munroe says you can tell a vision is worth its mettle when you know in your heart of hearts it's too big for just you alone to handle. Well my vision is change. A completely different path than the one I'm on currently. And right now I think it's grand enough.

END

signed, sealed and delivered

I wonder how I don't write about my job more often. I have one of those jobs that takes so much out of you it literally becomes your life (hadi we're advised by management to move into those flats just behind the office). Ya, I'm a fun loving, card carrying, masochistic live-in-the-office, fagonistic (obviously that's the opinion of a playahater!), soon upwardly mobile external auditor. I don't think we're really into fake agony btw, the agony is real. You go from one high to the next and there's almost never a break in between, unless you're one of the lucky ones who didn't clear exams while you were in uni so twice a year you get like six weeks off study leave to go do them. And then when it's all said and done, you have to go to Sudan over the holidays - the one break everyone should be guaranteed!

For guys like me, 31st March and 30th April are very important dates. Those are the two days on which CBK requires that banks file all of their annual returns (March) and the Commissioner of Insurance that insurers file all of theirs (April). That's why we call January to April our "busy season". As with everything else Kenyan, those statements are never ready until the very last day as required by said regulators. This week has been one such occasion. Since Friday was the deadline for insurers, basically from Tuesday we used to go work clearing up minute outstanding issues late into the night, I actually remember leaving at 4AM on I think it was Wednesday. And then come Friday itself, just as I was jubilantly walking out at 6, happy that all this stuff is behind me now, in come more returns for signature and stuff. And just like that it's back to the office till 10. You ever asked yourself why you didn't leave just five minutes earlier like you'd wanted to? I know I have. Anyway, I did go back. And I did get them all signed. And sealed. And delivered. 

Let me tell you about the sense of achievement that comes with completing something that took everything out of you - it's an exhilarating feeling. It's like you're suddenly so light you can fly. You don't even want to go and sleep for the rest of your life like you've been thinking about all week. All of a sudden you start to notice - hey, look! they've put up a new flower garden here - somewhere you've been walking past everyday for the last month. I'm not saying the sun shines brighter, (that seems reserved for when you fall in love :) but there is such a noticeable change in the collective attitudes of everyone around. We all breathe a sigh of relief, and suddenly the world's a better place again. 

Those moments sometimes tend to make it all worth it, like today. But like I said, it never really ends. One high to the next without a break in between, that seems to be what we're all about. We don't know any different.

END

falling inside the black

So last week my workmate told me a story. He was involved in a small tiff once with a matatu. The mat hit him from the side, but the driver refused to accede, so they called the cops. They come and look at everything and talk to bystanders and clearly it becomes very evident - the events were open to interpretation, so justice was going to be doled out to the highest bidder. So they drag the mat and my friend back to the station. The mat driver calls his boss, his boss comes and pays off the cops, they let him go. So now it's just my friend and the cops. They tell him they're gonna have to charge him (obviously, coz the other "defendant" has just been declared innocent so by elimination...) Does he think he'll be able to chuck 4K to make all this go away. He's a good Christian, so he said no. Strike one. They take him to court. He doesn't have a lawyer, so someone over there tells him that to make things all go smoothly, he's gonna have to plead guilty, then he'll just be fined for reckless driving or whatever and everyone goes home happy. So he does that. The moment he said, he could tell he'd made a mistake. You know once you're guilty in the eyes of the law everything is now left up to their discretion. You basically no longer have rights. So this prosecutor now says that no, they don't have enough information to go on, they're gonna need to carry out further investigations. WTF!!! The guy pleaded guilty - what more do you need genius??? Anyways, the judge agrees (again, WTF!!!), and apparently also when you're guilty, bail is left up to the judge's discretion. So he denies - or it doesn't come up one way or another (remember my guy doesn't have a lawyer - he was advised it would detract from his image as cooperating with "the investigation" - term used very loosely). So now it's Friday he's going to go to jail till Monday. In remand, they make another offer, and now that he's actually IN jail the stakes are higher - is he gonna be able to get them 15K? 15K and they "lose" the file. He can walk away. He says no. Strike 2. At this point they're getting frustrated. He talks to them about a cash bail and they immediately seize on to this new-found opportunity: they can arrange for one for him, but he'll pay them 10K, then they'll give him a receipt for 5K. Implied in that transaction is, of course, a 5K bribe. He's like, guys, I'm already in jail. At what point are you gonna get it - I'm a believer. I do not bribe!! Strike 3. His wife gets there, gets him a lawyer finally, who tries to, from a friendly-face perspective, reintroduce the notion of the bribe to smooth things over, he tells that lawyer does he want to get paid or not, coz if he does, he won't bring up the bribes again. Strike 4. Lawyer  gets the message, finds another way to work with the system and gets my guy out, and then helps him out through the remaining court proceedings.

I gotta be honest here, that kind of (is staunchness a word?) is incomprehensible to me. This guy was willing to actually spend the whole weekend in jail just to stand up for a principle. He got all these opportunities even after having lost hope, and still said no. And what's more, his memories of the day aren't even bitter. He's looking at it from the perspective of the people he met there. "You know I even found some people who were arrested and no one in their families knew about it, I got a chance to witness to them, and when I got out I got to find their people and tell them." So maybe God did intend for him to end up in that cell that day. Damn! I think it's safe to say I've found a real life hero this week. I don't know how someone does that. With a lot of help from the Holy Spirit, I guess, but it must also take some courage. A LOT of courage. I got arrested once too when I was still in school,  and went hadi the cells. I didn't have to bribe anyone to get out. But I really think that had more to do with the fact that it didn't come up (a friend came and talked to the boss for me about us being only students and stuff, and lucky me I actually had my uni ID that day). If it had, I don't know what I'd have done, because believe me when I tell you, no one wants to be locked up in our Kenyan cells. 

I usually try and listen for that still small voice, and sometimes I hear it, but sometimes I can't tell the difference. You know, between what it's actually saying and what I think it should be saying. Especially in many of those, what you'd call, grey-area situations. Maybe I was supposed to hear that story. So I'd start asking myself these questions. If that incident had happened to me, and I'd been on the right to begin with, I think I would have found a way to rationalize my way out. I'd have told myself I shouldn't even be there, and isn't this one of those exceptional situations, like white lies? And I'd still have been wrong and I probably would have known it, but that wouldn't have stopped me. My church launched these things called real groups today. Basically home churches. I'm supposed to find one and join, and ostensibly they'll be able to help me work through some of these things. I hope that becomes clearer in my head with time. There's a song playing right now, by Hillsong, which I want to be my prayer: "...In my heart, in my soul/I give you control/Consume me from the inside out/Let justice and praise/Become my embrace/To love you from the inside out..."

END

all god's children

Kid, 9 years old, finds out her father has Huntington's disease. She doesn't know what it is, or that it can't be cured, but she knows God's almighty. So she says a little prayer. "Dear God, if you make my dad better, I promise I'll eat all my vegetables. Love, H." Isn't that something? It's like she's asking him for this incredible thing, and all she's offering in return is she'll eat her vegetables, something she should be doing anyways. I mean, yes, it's hard for her to eat them, she doesn't like them, but it's universally accepted that Huntington's is incurable, so she's basically asking Him for a miracle. And you know what's amazing, she goes to her dad and tells him it's all gonna be OK, she's prayed and God's gonna answer her prayers. Faith doesn't come in a purer form than that.

Maybe we should all have stayed little. It makes it so easy to handle the unknown, when you think you know how it's going to turn out. I'm doing another application. I saw an opening at a place I've come to like, and I went for it. A week ago, so now I have those butterflies all over again. I'm praying for a positive response, and believing like that child believed is, er, kinda hard. See, a funny thing happened on the way to the moon - I grew up. I found out that I can't fly. That my dad can't, in fact, make the rain fall. That if I jump into the river I will drown. That the tooth fairy is, like all fairies, a myth. I read the Little House books when I was a child (I'm reading them again, btw, trynna get back some of that glow) and it seemed so idyllic. Laura grew up in the marshes, around all these people that got her everything she wanted, and no one ever fought with anyone else, and the nature around her was like out of a movie. 

It's like that Faith Hill song:

Before I grew up I saw you on a cloud

I could bless myself in your name and 

pat you on your wings

Before I grew up I heard you whisper so loud

"Life is hard, and so is love, child, 

believe in all these things"

I found mayonnaise bottles and poked holes on top

To capture Tinker Bell

And they were just fireflies to the untrained eye 

But I could always tell

I believe in fairytales and 

dreamers dreams like bed sheet sails

And I believe in Peter Pan and 

miracles anything I can to get by

And fireflies

Well I've grown up so I don't still believe in fireflies, but I am still God's child, aren't I? I can still ask stuff of him, can't I? So I'm asking for this. I'm older now, so I know sometimes prayers can be answered with no. But it's not like I'm coming from the doldrums so even if it comes to that it's still gonna be OK. He's brought me this far. Maybe He's got different plans for me, I dono. But dear Lord, if it's all the same with You, this is how I want it to go.

END