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

band aid covers the bullet hole

Betrayal isn't ridiculous. It's the reason empires fall.

I remember the day my world came crushing down like it was yesterday. It wasn't, but I'm quite certain I will carry that burden for the rest of my life. That day, someone I thought I trusted with my very life let me down. A person I had elevated on the highest pedestal you can possibly elevate another proved themselves a mere mortal. They erred, and in so doing they made me think them less deserving of my reverence. It's been a long climb back up, but in that time I have seen in my life the veracity of time's healing nature. It hasn't ever gotten easier, and the burden hasn't gotten lighter, but I have gotten used to living with it.

I don't know if we ever really forgive people. I think one of the unique things about human beings is we were made able to spot patterns in the things around us. And that traits in behaviour are as strong a pattern as any. Let's say someone took your heart and stomped on it, broke it into a thousand pieces. And then came and picked them all up and put it back together. You might forgive them, and you might even let them back in, but is it ever the same again? Is it ever as pure as it was the first time? Are they ever the god they were before they betrayed your trust? The body recovers. Physical fractures and cuts heal. But does the heart? I don't know that the first cut is really the deepest. I think it's just the deepest till the next one. You never get used to it. Every time you get cut, it hurts just as bad as the other times.

So anyway, what to do when that person strikes again and sinks even lower?

The first time I felt like I was the one violated. I felt like I was forced to make a sacrifice that someone in my station shouldn't be made to make. I did it for what I thought was a noble reason, so I don't regret that, but I resented the fact that I was cornered. And now I just got through listening to how the same person devoured another's spirit. It's not really unique to us this occurrence. It's not an original story; it just hasn't ever been close to me before. Like how we all know death exists but don't feel it until it touches us personally. I'm scared to be alone because of the things I think about. I don't want to fall into that trap of dissociating everything amazing someone has done for you because of that one bad thing they did that hurt you - no matter how bad it was. Even when they do it again, that's still just two times, right?

I'm watching a show called Betrayal. I know, everyone says it's only TV, but I think that's rhetoric people say because they have subconsciously been conditioned to say it by pop culture; like making fun of that Kardashian show or extolling the purity of Android because of its openness. To me, it has always been uncanny how much TV can cut across to real life. How you can see in the cast things you are going through or have been through. They say on that show that if you spend time wishing for someone to go through fire for what they did to your heart, then you're allowing them to hurt you a second time in your mind.

I need time to come quickly and cover this hole that I'm falling into. I need to stop here and move on to happier thoughts.

END

things a momma don't know

So I was at an event some time last month where the guy challenged us to, for the next 30 days, pick a thing each day and be grateful for it. To prove to ourselves how much we did indeed have to be grateful for so that we'd stop being so grumpy and getting in the way of our own success. I've been doing that, but obviously I had a bit of a rough patch given the things that have been happening lately. I'm back now, and given these two months (February and March) are both my parents' birthdays, I thought it might be a good time to reflect on exactly why they're still the biggest things that have ever happened to me.

Obviously being as deep as I am, this cannot be the first time in my life I'm thanking God for my parents, I've done this before. Once or twice. It's the reasons why that change. This time I'm taking time to contemplate what kind of impact spiritually my parents have had on me.

I remember when I was growing up I'd look around and see some of my friends' parents just let them run helter skelter and I'd be like "Why can't my parents be like that?" Because let's be clear - my house was ruled with an iron fist. A real one. You did what you were told no questions asked. Like I've still never watched the first Bad Boys, because when it came out it was banned at my house coz of language, and by the time I was old enough to watch it I wasn't interested anymore. But it has not escaped my notice that I don't swear. It just doesn't ever occur to me to do it, even though it happens everywhere around me. Children don't realise how much the environment around them affects who they are until they see it in other people. 

There was a time I was home on holiday and I'd taken a week to just do nothing but sit at home. Then my parents went on a road trip and left me the car but told me not to go anywhere with it. Then this one afternoon two of my friends show up with their car telling me to ride out with them for thrills. I knew how to drive already by then, and no one would have known, coz we were just going around the hood and everyone was at work, but I didn't even think twice before I said no. My instructions had been to not go anywhere unnecessary. This didn't seem necessary. So I politely declined.

We had a very christian upbringing. So through my life I've never had any big moral conundrums to deal with. Somehow for as long as I can remember deep down inside I've always known or had a sense of what the right thing to do was. And it hasn't been very difficult for me to do it. So while I've seen people go through pit falls and fall apart at the seams, I've remained largely unscathed. I attribute all of this to my parents. They have been bastions of stability through my life and have always been a reference point whenever I was faced with a tough choice. The older I became the more I wanted to succeed for myself, but there has always been a part of my drive that's been about living up to my potential in their eyes. My dad always made me believe the best gift I could give him was to make a good living for myself, so that's what I try to do.

When I was little, I still remember those early Sunday mornings when we'd get up at the crack of dawn so our father could drop us off in church before the service started (he had a bicycle and if memory serves had to make two trips coz obviously we can't all fit on a bike), because he needed to be there to set up for the service. And it was like this for most of my childhood. We'd be the kids licking sugary dough because my dad was out all Saturday sticking up posters all over town telling people about a crusade next month. Sometimes we'd need to sit in silence as the choir practised, because he was also in charge of music at church. He was the interpreter as well. He told me a story recently - there was a time he was sick, like, dying sick, and Sunday came and there was no one to set up at church. They actually came and got him on stilts and took him there so he could show them what to do and how, and then put him in the pastor's car because he was too weak to attend the service.

At the time I used to just look, and I used to enjoy the fame that comes with being a church leader's child, but turns out I was learning. Because later on in life it was the easiest thing for me to join church ministry once I found a church I felt I could settle in. It seemed like a natural progression and I did it for the three years I went there with nothing but joy. I remember at one point being a sort of go-to guy, and whenever I could help it, I never ever said no to my ministry leaders. My dad summed up his story for me, "When I hear people complaining about the Lord's work is difficult bla bla bla I don't know what they're talking about. They haven't seen what I've seen. I know that I went out of my way to serve the Lord, and it has been well for me."

My mum was the most generous person I knew. Our door was never closed - it literally stayed open the whole day. She'd do everything for everyone and would never even hesitate. We'd be the guys hosting everyone during the holidays. We'd be the guys supplying our neighbours with vegetables. I'd be the guy who hated being around when there were visitors because the chores multiplied exponentially - even people who came by to just drop the mail would end up staying for dinner. I hated it at the time. It didn't seem to me like there was enough to go around like this. Turns out there was. And I've become progressively more and more generous. I'm not yet at her standard - I still require quid pro quo, but I see her in the way that I treat the people that are close to me. People that will roll over for me I'll die for (well I won't DIE for them, I'll probly get them ice cream...)

My parents have been married now for +30 years. And there have been ups and downs, some downs very, very down, but they're still standing strong. They still look at each other like that. They're still those people to each other. I know enough now to know that it doesn't automatically happen that way. That it takes effort and commitment. I'm rock solid as a person because they were rock solid. If I can fly it's because they've been the wind beneath my wings. From the moment I was born there has never been anything I needed that I didn't have. There hasn't been a sacrifice that was too big to make for me. I've met enough people now that I realise not everyone can say that. I've seen enough to know that I can't take my parents for granted, ever.

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

champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends

So when I was about 10 I was at a friend's place when I heard his mom ask him "Will you please do me that favor?", and I didn't know what a favor was so I asked. His mom wanted him to heat water for her, he knew that from before I got there, so he explained to me that a favor was when someone asks you to heat water for them, and I believed it. Turns out that was not entirely correct. Anyway, I started asking for favors whenever I wanted hot water to shower. But more importantly, thus started what was going to be a long culture of me learning things from my friends without knowing I was learning them.

That was a while back, and today, it's a while plus one more year. If I'm a significantly smarter person now than I was back then, and I am, it's because of all the amazing people I've met in my journey. People who've had an effect on me without even knowing that they were having it.

I had a friend in high school who we later ended up going to university with that I think is one of the most brilliant minds we have in our country right now. Remember that time I said I wanted to be able to say when I'm 90 that yes I made some mistakes but I was never afraid to take a risk? This guy has been living that mantra all his life. He's the guy that started an online business with part of his uni loan when we were still in school. He registered about 4 companies by the time we were in the 3rd year. When those fell under, he picked up his pieces and started one of our very first investment clubs, complete with investor proposals. When we cleared school and went our separate ways he started trading fish, because he saw a need and he figured out how to get supply to fill it out. He's been involved in countless ventures, and any lesser person would by now have given up, but not this guy. He just keeps learning and keeps on getting up the next day to try something else. I've learned from him that it's never so bad it won't be better tomorrow.

There's another friend of mine I grew up with. He's younger than me, so by the time he was starting high school, I was on my way out. But because our families were friends and stuff I've kept tabs with what's happening in his life. He's the guy that came second in the entire province in the final exam. And this despite having participated in all the extra curricular activities that count at the same time he was studying. Actuarial science is one of the harder courses to get into - he did. And he aced it. And halfway through, thought he wanted to be a pilot instead, and went and did those tests, and aced them. He's now a pilot with a degree in actuarial science. I don't know a single thing he's ever tried that he didn't succeed at. And yet you wouldn't be able to tell it relating with him. A lot of times I have to blow his trumpet because I know he won't do it himself and his story is too inspiring not to tell. I've learned from him that no one is ever too great to be humble.

There's another friend from university who I used to think had self esteem issues. I used to think she was the kind of person that would crumble and self destruct were she to be afflicted with adversity. Well, adversity did afflict her. Being a goody-two-shoes, things happened and she ended up pregnant. Something that's frowned upon in certain circles. And the baby daddy refused by implication to claim ownership. So she stepped up. He wanted her but didn't want the baby. I didn't think she had it in her, but she made the tough call. She let him go. She decided it was better to be alone and be happy than be hitched and be sad. And she's thriving now, generally winning at life. I've learned that from her. No one is ever too important to be dispensed with if they get in the way of your happiness.

Which brings me to my current friend. My best, friend. The person I've spent more time with than with anyone else since I was old enough to know things. I'm a difficult person to be with. I'm headstrong. I'm extremely loud and opinionated, and well spoken to complete the cycle. I think I know everything, and most times I actually do. I don't care about clothes or fashion or how I look. I value creature comforts over savings. I have a very quick temper - I snap quickly, but then I also calm down almost immediately. Because of how I grew up, I've become and expert at hurting people using words. I don't care for things that won't physically touch my life, including, but not limited to, my country and its leaders. She's my complete opposite. And yet she stays. She takes it all. Takes ME all. She has the biggest heart I know outside of my mother. And from her, I've learnt compromise.

These people are all a part of me. They are part of my past, my present, and my future. I embody within me the things I have learnt from them. Every day I get up in the morning I live the impact they have had on my life. And today, more than any other day, I am grateful I met these people, and many others (against whom I had the chance to sharpen now razor-sharp wit). They say children learn what they live. They are right. I learned what I lived. And I'm a better person for having known every one of the people I know. So as I celebrate my birthday, they are on my mind. And I can only hope that I get a chance to have as profound an impact on other people around me as they have had on me.

END

the desperate kingdom of love

Has there ever been one thing you thought you loved with all your heart? Something you thought you couldn't live without? Something you thought you'd do absolutely anything it took to keep? Did you keep it? Did it cost you everything to keep it? Was it a person? Did they feel the same way about you? Was it worth it?

My story's not over yet, it's still being written, but I once thought I did. Not too long ago. I thought I had someone in my life that defined me. That made me who I was. I don't know if I still do. And the limbo is eating me up inside. I know that because I'm up at 4AM writing this on a weeknight. And, because my heart aches. Physically, it aches. And the worst thing is, I don't know that I did everything I could to keep them. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. Or I gave up for a reason that's unjustifiable.

I've been reliving those moments over and over again. There's a lot of stuff I could have said. A lot of things I could have done differently. Had I tried, I think this could have gone a completely different way. I think I wouldn't be here right now. But I think it wouldn't have been real. It wouldn't have been complete. I think I would have ended up always wondering - what if I hadn't tried? Would we still be together? Would it still be as natural? I know relationships are supposed to be work, but exactly how much work is too much work? Anyway, like they say: when you go away for a short time, and you come back, and your person tells you they suddenly stopped missing you, that something's definitely changed, I think you're screwed either way.

I'm getting promoted at work tomorrow. Within the minimum time, just like we planned it, my boss and me. It's just further confirmation that this freight train that is my life is headed in the right direction. Just one more in a long string of fortunate events that means I'm totally blest. Ordinarily I'd be at the beach celebrating this. But for some reason, the human in me can't stop thinking about what I'm missing. What I'm likely going to be missing for a while. There's a lot of things that are right with my life, but I think the one thing that's wrong with it, biggest thing that's wrong with it, is that my life is not a movie. And that I don't write the scripts. And it doesn't have a soundtrack. I often find music cures a lot of situations. Or it just helps me escape. I've been listening to a lot of Dido lately. 

And, everyone's not perfect. Not even close. Me included.

I guess you really can't have it all, all the time. We all have a dark cloud hanging over our heads. I know it serves a purpose. I know a certain darkness is needed to see the stars. But then I also know those stars are not bright enough to overcome it. This girl in my all time favorite show was having a rough time with everything around her at some point. She was an artist for fun, so that's how she expressed herself. So she got up one weekend and painted her entire house white. Said she thought she'd "...paint the shadows away." How cool would it be if it were that easy to wipe pain away? They say our biggest regrets are not for the things we did, but the things we didn't do. Not for the things we said, but the things we didn't say. Does this darkness have a name?

So this guy used to play basketball. And he was the best. Then he got shot in the ribs or stabbed or something. He survived, but had to go through therapy for a while. And he sort of started losing his game. But before everyone knew it, he started playing again. He forced himself. And he trained harder than everyone to get his form back. One day he's hard at it and he's bleeding from his injury when a teammate walks up to him and asks him what his secret is. Where does he get the strength to endure the pain? And he says he doesn't really have one. It's just resolve. "One day, you just start shooting and deal with the pain later." If only that's all it took.

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

nothing left to say but goodbye

The story of the prodigal son is a story of rebellion. It's the story of the son who rejected his father's upbringing. Went off on his own and led a wild life of adventure and anarchy. Did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Squandered everything, literally, spiritually, physically. When faced with failure and despair, he came back home, willing to do whatever to win back his father's favor. Here's the thing - in that story, he never at any point lost it. All he needed to do, as he found out, was come back and say he was sorry. And he'd have been taken back. This was in a parable. The father in the story was God. So I think it's safe to assume that if a thing like this ever happened in real life as described, two things would not happen: the father, being human, might be just a little less gracious; the prodigal son's not gonna be humble enough to realize when he's failed that he can come back and grovel.

Ever wondered what happens to a person to make them become a victim (in their head) of everything that happens to them? I have. Why would someone who could very easily have had it all, someone who did almost have it all, suddenly just stalk back and tell everyone who loved them to leave them alone. Someone who's old enough that this is not just ADD. Why would they go ahead and conclude that everyone's so ashamed of them it would be better if it was just assumed they didn't exist at all. If you were a parent, is there a tipping point? What would you do if that person was your child? If you'd done everything you thought possible, said everything you could think about, given and broken ultimatum after ultimatum, and still nothing. You know how they keep telling us love conquers all-is there be a time span after which we can conclude love has failed? 

"Asiyefunzwa na mamaye hufunzwa na ulimwengu" is a saying that I think is targeted at the mothers (teach your children) just as much as it's targeted at the kids (accept your mother's teachings). Just the mere fact that it exists should be evidence that any part of that system could fail.

Apparently, human cells regenerate once every seven years. Sorta like snakes shedding their skin. So when we say stuff like "People don't change," it must drive these scientists crazy. Because we're always changing in the most basic of ways. At any moment, we could suddenly be a whole new man. Like at any moment, we could have a whole fresh set of options, and second chances. Primal regeneration, however, has nothing to do with how we harness those chances. That needs to come from us. It needs to be a concious decision. And it needs to be made each and every day, for the rest of our lives.

So to this prodigal son, I'm at world's end. There's this guy who says that struggles and disappointments may be what keeps us going. That maybe we all need to mess up so we can step up. I sincerely hope that's true, and that it'll happen for you. Everything I wanna say has been said so eloquently by Sidewalk Prophets:

Last time we spoke,
You said you were hurting,
And I felt your pain in my heart,
I want to tell you,
That I keep on praying,
Love will find you where you are,
I know cause I've already been there,
So please hear these simple truths,


Be strong in the Lord and,
Never give up hope,
You're going to do great things,
I already know,
God's got His hand on you so,
Don't live life in fear,
Forgive and forget,
But don't forget why you're here,
Take your time and pray,
These are the words I would say

END

the take over, the break's over

If I were to strictly classify my job right now, it would fall under marketing. And previously I was in finance. There's this girl who came to a party with us last month whose dream was to go to the Olympics. Since she was 4. And she finally made it to the last ones in was it Beijing(?) Despite having broken a leg when she was 17 - she's my age. Now, I love this job, even though I've only done it for two months, but I'm wondering if I can say there's anything I've ever wanted to do that I've wanted that steadfastly. When I was a child it was engineering coz that's what my father does, and then I grew up and started reading Fortune and it became investment banker despite the fact that I didn't even know what that was - believe it or not I actually liked the suits back then - and then I started watching The Practice when I moved to Nairobi and I fell in love with law. That must be the longest dream I've had, coz all the way till uni I consistently wanted to be a lawyer and to argue facts and to bang the table when neither the facts nor the law were on my side. As if that wasn't enough, The West Wing came and took over my life a little later and then I go check and guess what all those brilliant people did in uni (except for the president who's an economist) - law. So anyway, I got convinced to change my dream at some point to finance and ended up doing Commerce. And the rest is, so far, history.

So here I am creating brands and shaping product strategy (or something close to that). Starting over is sometimes scary, sometimes a huge risk, sometimes a harbinger to a doomed existence. It wasn't any of those things for me (I guess coz I'm blest...), but it was a completely new beginning. I have to think of myself as a fresh hire now. I have to ask at least a thousand questions, and have to start working out a whole new balance between my [already scanty] life and my work. When people are thinking about what legacy they want to leave behind, they're usually all about one specific thing. There's always one thing they want to stand out, one thing they can be identified by. But I'm thinking no, me I when I'm remembered, I wanna be remembered for all the different accomplishments. I want all of them to be grand, of course, but I want them to be equally grand. And I want them to be various. And it won't matter if they're all work-related.

On the subject of work-life balance, we had lunch with our regional GM day before yesterday. Brilliant guy, btw. Has been with the company for about 20 years. That is A LONG time. Anyway, so we ask him if he'd say he's made any sacrifices in terms of personal life, family on his way up. And he's like no. You spend all your life either studying (first half) or working (second half). Nine, ten hours a day. So anyone who thinks work is not life is crazy. There is no such thing as work/life balance if you're doing something you love to do - they are one and the same thing. I almost died - you know those things people say and they leave you dumbfounded, ya, that was me. I had never thought of it that way, but I completely agree with him. Him and Placido Domingo both. Steinway & Sons is a company that makes designer pianos out of hardwood that cost as much as a small Samoan island. They print a quarterly magazine with updates for people who've bought Steinway in the past. So I got one of them and inside they had a spread with Placido in sideview facing down with a sort of pensive look, holding the conductor's baton, light from the lectern illuminating his face. 

And underneath his picture, the text "Apparently, time off is reserved for those who consider their careers as work." I wouldn't call myself a workaholic per se, but I'd say that I've got love for what I'm doing. I'd even go further and say that right now, I think my career is my life. And I'm happy.

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

the best day since yesterday

Pure and simple: today was a good day. I got up, and the sun wasn't scorching, and it wasn't raining either, and I got someone to drop me at work so I didn't have to walk the whole way, and I cleared those accounts I'd been preparing all week and handed them in for review, and then in the evening, friends. Old friends. Good friends. We sat for four-odd hours and did nothing but catch up. And remember the good ol' days. Business school was a carnival ride. See I can say that now - business school - my uni changed names from just Faculty of Commerce to School of Business. Man, fun times. You know how in the middle of January you go to the chart and see the assignments they have lined up for you and you know it's going to be the four weeks from hell, and you have no choice but to take it. Ya, three weeks ago that was me. I was trying to look ahead and see the light at the end of the tunnel, couldn't even see the walls of the tunnel. Twas like an abyss, black as the Pit from pole to pole (William Henley, anyone?). And then in the middle of it all, when it seems like you can't possibly sink any lower, the curveballs stop coming. You get up and the weather's just right, and you can immediately smell the coffee, and your heartrate's not as jacked as it's been all month. And then when the call comes, "Dude, pizza today, you in?" You know, nothing's going to go wrong today. Whatever else happens, this day is going to be an oasis of hope in the middle of all the plodding and toll, under the bludgeonings of chance. Last year, just before my epic trip to the Sudan(!), I remember creating an album, with pictures of various happy times during the year, and at the end of the album on the very last one the caption I put as, "What, then, shall we say to all these things; friends make me happy." And today I was reminded just how true that really is. I keep learning to never underestimate the power of Providence to surprise you when you least expect it. And to always expect Him to come through for you.

Tomorrow, the sun might not be just so. And the deadlines might become more ridiculous due to this relentless drive of ours to be the standard of excellence. And I might not see anyone I like or even know. And, worse, I might actually be required to work all day (ya, it's gonna be one of those Saturdays). Hell, tomorrow might not even come. So if this is going to be it, if this is as good as it's gonna get, then I'm glad I enjoyed it while it lasted. "Paradise was a place of bliss," said Locke, "...without drudgery and without sorrow." Today, I was in paradise.

END

the best years of our lives

Ten years isn't such a short time when thought of in absolute terms, but at the end of the 10th one, when you look back, it seems not a day over 15 minutes, doesn't it? That's where I'm at today. It's been full of ups and downs, successes and failures, it's been a journey of self discovery, false starts - like my first real relationship - and more grounded ones - like my first job, at which I "kick a$$", their words. Pleasant new experiences, like living on my own, and not-so-pleasant ones, like my little brother's frequent ambivalent spells. Loss of loved ones, one of my oldest friends' mother and grandmother, and new babies, another of my current friends. I've taken it all with arms wide open, and every time I fell I've come back a stronger person. And more, what's more than this, I did it my way. It's been the most significant 10 years of my life, because I went in a boy, and I came out a man (OK, I'm sure everyone says that about their 20's :).

In 2002 I saw what a nation united can achieve. I saw a man broken by the jubilant mood of the country as he was disbundled from his office - something that bespoke his legacy. I heard people talk about inflation and monetary policy at the local joint like it was a term they'd grown up with, whereas in fact they'd only just read about it in the pundits' reports last week. That was hope. It was togetherness, belonging, ownership of the country by its citizens. It was breath-taking! In 2007, the story was different. I saw the depths to which humans can degenerate, and why our thoughts are the only thing that sets us apart from animals. I saw sins of the father get visited upon the child, someone else's innocent child. I saw country rip itself apart at the seams, and not even stop to reconsider what it was doing. That animal nature, that was scary. Scary in the sense that it wasn't isolated, and it wasn't provoked, and it didn't even look like it was designed to achieve anything, it was just mindless killing. Almost the kind they call ethnic cleansing. It was not fun to watch.

Speaking of things watchable, in 2003 Mark Schwahn made a show, then little-known, called One Tree Hill, and it changed my life! I kid you not. You know when they say children learn what they see? Ya, I used to watch Tree Hill. It was so different from all those other teen dramas of the day, akina Beverly Hills and Dawson's Creek and The OC. This one actually made sense. It was about dreams, and ambitions, and family, and art, and love. The people faced real issues and the actors portrayed their characters realistically. And the music, OMG the music! I was already a rock fan by that time (I still remember the songs that changed me: Creed's Arms Wide Open and Nickelback's How You Remind Me) but the music I found as a result of that show, O.M.G. I can still hear it in my head, at the end of that pilot episode when Luke beat Nathan and that Saliva song broke out "Would you find it in your heart/To make this go away/And let me rest in pieces..." That was the moment I knew for sure that I'd found a winner. Man, I can't even start to list the things I've learned because of that show - Peyton's love of indie rock and Lucas' reading habits and those voiceovers. At the time when everyone was all about 24 me I was all Tree Hill. Those days like 70% of my week used to be spent watching TV, so when I say Tree Hill is the show I'll be watching 75% of the time, I mean it was literally my life. It's not still my life, but I still love it. (so now you know where I got the idea for naming blog posts after songs and albums - that's how they name their episodes)

In 2008 I graduated from uni(!) Come August, I'd just been through the sixth interview, which was the last stage before they either hire you or let you go. It had been a long journey, from that happy-go-lucky uni student who knew nothing about his endgame (in Jan :) to here, actually being one of the fore-runners. They'd told us they'd let us know in 2 days, 3 max. So this was the third day, and I could not get any more anxious. It was all over. Public opinion was that if you succeeded they called you and regrets were sent over email after they'd called everyone they wanted. I couldn't stop staring at the phone, partly because I hadn't really applied many other places, but also because I'd now gotten so invested that I really wanted this job. I remember even walking all around Kile to take the edge off. It took me all of 2 hours, and now it's 2.45 and still nothing. My heart pounding, trying to look calm so no one in the house starts hugging me and empathising when I don't get it, I went and sat outside. And sat. And sat. And sat. It was just 25 minutes, but man! And then the phone rang.

When I woke up at the beginning of the 00's, I was a disgruntled student getting ready to go back to school. It was Starch, which is pretty much as good as it gets for any high school boy, but believe me when I tell you NO ONE ever counts their blessings in the moment. See asides from every other extraordinary thing that school does, they open on the Saturday before the week all other schools open, which basically meant the next day after New Year's. But, I went, and I kept going through the rest of the 3 years and then the next four and here I finally am. Supposedly enjoying the fruits of a childhood well lived. Back then I used to have this halcyon image of the world where everyone got everything they asked for and bosses and parents never made you do anything you didn't want to do, or when they offended you they came and apologised, where open-door policy really meant you could walk in at any time, and where a boy saw a girl across the room, their eyes met, and two weeks later they lived happily ever after. But now, now I've learnt. I know now that it doesn't work that way. I know now that people are more often irrational than rational. I know now that to get something from someone you have to more than just ask, you have to ask in a language they understand, even if speaking it goes against the very grain you're made of. I know now that exemplariness does not always get rewarded, and hard work is not all it takes to excel. I know enough to not always do unto others as I would have them do unto me; their tastes may not be the same. It's been a long ten years. The people in my life have come and gone, and I've moved around. But in hindsight, doesn't seem a day over 15 minutes. And it'll be 10 more before I can blink. So the best thing I've learnt so far, there's no hereafter. These are the best years of our lives, and in life, the journey is the destination.

END

some kind of wonderful

Christmas. It comes every once a year, at the end of the year. That Pope Gregory (as in Gregorian Calendar) must have been extremely intelligent, because he had this date set to coincide with the end of the year, so that it's really like a double-whammy of celebrations - Christmas itself and the start of a new year. So for that whole week and sometimes even the one before companies close down (not mine though, they'd much rather all working days were spent, well, working) and send all their employees shopping with gift vouchers and spending bonuses (again, mine excluded), which makes sense because every retailer has those year-end sales going on. And we all send all those tu-little messages about the holiday cheer, starting over, hope for the new year, and we overwhelm the network so for two hours on 23rd, 24th and 25th, and then again on 30th and 31st it doesn't work very well. Of course, since we have that whole local tourism thing going half the country goes to Coast and Naivasha, and bus companies take it upon themselves to recoup all those mid-year losses during the one season people MUST travel by tripling fares and going long-distance routes they're not equipped to just because people are too desperate to care. And then there are our finest, the traffic police. Wanting their form of the holiday bonus, they stop every car they can and ask for the one thing they know they won't find (light flare, first aid kit, life savers...), and when they don't find it, well, we all know what goes down. And the malls set up these vibrant arrays of christmas lights all over their premises trying each to outdo the other with the latest designs (for the record this year I think The Junction won that battle - although I didn't get to see Village Market), so KPLC do the only natural thing they can - re-route all residential power to said malls to handle the new load coz they think they'll make more money there than at home where there's probably only one light on, resulting in power cuts at the most inconveniencing of times. But it always comes back so that's not all bad. And the artists (term used very loosely), they're a special group: they all find a popular hang-out joint, attach themselves to its hip, peddling the hottest christmas gigs (one wonders what Keroro and Banjuka have to do with christmas, but what can one say, apparently "Kenya hukuwa hip hop nation, kila Friday huwa ni vacation") with the most outstanding dancers and the loudest DJ and the hippest crowd, for Shs. 700 at the gate and Shs. 600 advance. And the party don't stop till 8 in the morning... I much prefer the Nairobi Music Society's outing, first because I'm not a fan of rap and other senseless genge and dancehall etc, then because it actually takes on a Chrismas-y theme - they do carols and Handel's Messiah and stuff - and then it doesn't happen on the actual day - they do it like a weekend before so you can be with your people.

Anyway, this particular year the holidays for me didn't hold a lot of promise at the start. There was that whole thing of the day losing its magic that holiday I watched Titanic of course, but even then, there had always been the family, the celebrations, the exotic food, the odd relative or two, and the almighty christmas tree. Draped with candy and stuff. And miles and miles of crepe paper interleaved in different colors. This year I couldn't go home because of one Sudan trip coming up next week (booooo!). So I had to find a surrogate family to celebrate with. As it turns out, the one I chose ended up being pretty wicked. Twas some other aunt of mine in Komarock. I mean, yes, they had no christmas tree, there were no christmas gifts, or carols, or dressing up. But I used to live with them once in a past life, and I hadn't been there in forever, so the memories were priceless. House and the people hadn't changed one bit. And my little brother also came coz his concert fell through and he was sane for a change and we hung out and it was fun. He's actually a very personable guy when he's not having one of his emotional meltdowns. And I got to super-diss my cousins and we watched movies and ate popcorn which is like a trademarked thing for that house (I swear they pop corn by the sackload). And while it could always have been better because I could have been at home, with my parents, and a christmas tree, this was the week I watched Avatar. How can I not stand in awe? OMG, James Cameron is a demigod!! Everything considered, this holiday actually was as good as it gets. Especially the part about my brother being sober. I hope he stays that way for a long time, like for the rest of his life. Yes. Once every year, at the end of the year, the holidays come. And we eat, and we laugh, and we drink, and we chat and we go places we wouldn't otherwise go. And then, just like that, they're gone. But they leave us with a certain exuberance. A bright feeling we wouldn't otherwise have. Maybe the magic isn't really in the day itself, maybe the magic is in the air that comes with the day. Even the Grinch, having stolen everything he could, finally realized that: "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more." Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time. 

END

through the eyes of a child

When I was nine years old, my parents almost split up. Actually I think they did, but for a week or a week and a half, coz she actually moved out and went to live with a certain neighbour of ours. Those days I was still the oldest, and I didn't really understand what was going on, so I really doubt akina my brother and sister even noticed any such thing. We used to go visit her at the neighbour's in the evenings after school, and then go back home to our father's. Can't remember exactly what they used to tell us when we asked why she was no longer staying with us, but I can remember the pastor and a certain delegation coming over every evening with her [our church at the time my dad was sort of one of the founding members back in '88 - he was good with guitars and stuff so he launched the very first choir when the church was coming up - and it wasn't yet that big, so there as that extra personal touch people got from the leadership], and then they'd lock themselves up in the sitting room and discuss lots of adult stuff laced with prayer, then when it was over she'd go back to the neighbour's till next session next day. Us guys were just glad we were being allowed to play outside after dark - that whole "forbidden fruit" thing. I believe that was my very first experience with counselling, the only one so far.

Despite the fact that I didn't get everything that was going on, I can actually remember the straw that broke the camel's back. See there was these two girls at the time that came to live with us, and they ended up becoming like my parents' adopted children (which was another thing I didn't get), so over time they grew up and became young women, and at some point there must have been some appearance of impropriety, coz the reason my mum left was she gave him an ultimatum ("They go or I go") and he must have refused to kick them out coz ati where were they supposed to go now (errrr, back to their parents' houses - who were still alive, btw) so she figured she wasn't gonna live like that. Anyway, the counselling must have worked, or love for the children must have won out, coz she did come back after that rocky period and the girls didn't even have to move out. Sorta opened my eyes up to the sacrifices parents make for their children. Like I said, I was nine, but I really think no child should have to grow up with two homes, or picking who's their favorite parent (btw, I chose my mother - coz to me it appeared like he hurt her somehow, and he got the house so it only seemed fair that she should get me. that's the mind of a nine year old - chuckle chuckle...)

The thing people never seem to realize is that children see things. Yes they're young, and they may not be able to understand certain concepts, but they see them. And they remember. In that single act, moving out not even knowing where she was going, more than even with the things she says, my mother taught me that you don't have to live with it just because that's the way it goes. You never don't have an option. Those people who say children learn what they live, they're really not kidding. Children see things, and they remember. Of course us people don't talk about it coz it was a long time ago and, well, we're a black family :), but at certain times I dread what if. And then I'm eternally grateful to the Lord it turned out the way it did. There is a certain bliss associated with being a child: the speed with which things slide; the wonder with which we see little things; the comfort we feel when holding a parent's hand; the way we can be sure just like that that it's all going to be ok tomorrow. I mean, here were my parents almost in the middle of getting a divorce, and there we were, playing bows and arrows without a single care. Sometimes I agree, there's not a thing sadder in the world than to wake up Christmas morning and not be a child.

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i will be grateful for this day

Ok, this time even I gotta admit - life is good. Today I met two people, one a friend from high school and the other a friend from uni. The friend from uni was one of those people we really started talking just before we cleared, like in the fourth year, and she was doing well, like in every respect. Got a nice job, house, living on her own, even underwent this crazy personality change, hair grew longer, basically she seemed to be making it. It was early in the morning, so we went and had breakfast and talked about a lot of things, and it was refreshing, to see how people find my traumatizing tale about that day I rolled with our car and almost killed my mother funny, or how sometimes it's not our imagination - the grass really is greener on the other side (she works at one of the other Big Four audit firms so she was telling me all about theirs and it did sound enticing; at the very least she had me at 25% salary increment...), or looking at the world through the eyes of a converted introvert. Twas nice. It's also interesting the way the really shy people, the ones who literally don't look up when being spoken to, can't really come up and say they're shy, and then here's Robbie Williams on Trace saying how "...see the great thing about me is that I'm a really shy guy. You can't see it, I can't even see it myself sometimes, but I am..." WTH!!! DUDE, IN CASE YOU MISSED IT ON THE NEWS, YOU'RE A ROCKSTAR!!!!

Anyway then just after we'd split and I was walking away thinking about how much better life could have gotten for me, I run into the ex-high school friend. Well, not really friend, someone it just so happens we went to the same school with (it was really large, like a thousand students, so one couldn't be friends with everyone, plus really, I wasn't tripping over myself making them those days...). At any rate, we started to talk, and I could tell, even just from his look, that he led a troubled life. It turned out he was a street beggar, but because of his age, (he's my age), people aren't given to experiencing spasms of kindness and writing him large cheques when they see him walk towards them. Not nearly as much as they get the urge to scream "THIEF!!! THIEF!!!" So it's really hard for him. What I thought was merely just a rough day a guy was turning out to be everyday for him.

Actually I should tell his story the way it is - he's not a street beggar, he's a street con. He's mastered the art of telling theses heart-rending stories about how he was promised a settlement by his former sponsors (the people who paid his fees for him - Starch is that kind of school), and how it came as an international wire transfer which is still in the system at the bank and so for the two weeks it'll take to clear the guy he's been living with moved and went to live in Coast for a while so left him without anything to do and so all he needs is some transport to go home - a thousand bob! ati coz he lives someplace deep in Rift Valley. I think I trust in the inherent goodness of people too much, coz I'd bought that story hook line and sinker. So I was talking to some other guys we went to school with as well, and wadya know, they know about him! He's scammed them too! I didn't give him anything coz mercifully I didn't have anything at the time, but I was actually feeling guilty for being unable to help out. It's hard to imagine that at some point not too long ago, the world had opened up before us, both me and him, and the sky was really the limit, (Starehe is the kind of school that does that for you - it opens doors), and now the contrast between us couldn't be bigger. I wonder what happens to certain people's dreams. I've said before that I see no rhyme and reason to life, and that no one knows why some things work out and others don't. Well today I've gained another new perspective: all this time I keep thinking how it could be better for me, and being unsatisfied with what I have, well, I just got a taste of how much worse it could have gotten. If for no other reason, just for that visual, I will be grateful for this day.

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songs for you, truths for me

Last weekend I went to go see my little brother's band playing. It was beautiful. I swear, 23 years and I'd never seen him like that. It was like when you've been carrying a goldfish around in a paper bag and then you suddenly let it back out into the ocean. The boy came alive. He was shaking his head all over and he was wearing those hideous-ish glasses he insists on wearing and it was like poetry (actually I think it was poetry :) Sorta made me see him in a different light, if only for one day. He's the idealistic kind, the kind who'll gladly play a concert for nothing just because they enjoy doing it, so I hope he never has to see the ugly side of the music world - he might not be able to deal. You know the way there's always one thing someone can do that they can do really well... like, better than anyone else? Well, for him that thing's music. He picks up a guitar and he starts playing and just goes with the flow and before you know it you're in sync. Then he puts it down and picks up that saxophone.

Makes me wonder, if it's possible for a person to be so brilliant at something that other people find as cryptic as Swedish, how doesn't this brilliance translate into every other aspect of their life, you know? Musicians are supposed to write from deep within, right? To transfer their personal experiences and those of people close to them to the rest of the world through their songs. They're supposed to be able to make you identify with them, feel as though you were right there with them, be them. Like the way in the 90's before Cosmo with all its psychobabble became such a big hit with the sisters all you had to do to get a girl was sing her line out of 98 Degrees, or the Backstreet Boys. Just with the stroke of a pen, never having met you, singers can make you get up in the morning, pick up a weapon and stand a post, or turn over and tell yourself just how cruel the world is and how it doesn't deserve someone as great as you and waste the rest of your day wallowing in self pity.

And this isn't just one of those 20-minute hypotheticals either. It's something I've felt even in my own life. The songs I listen to, when I think about it, are more often than not songs that speak to me. Songs that tell me something, or echo a feeling I have. [ok, sometimes it's just that it's Linkin Park or Coldplay and I'm only human so how can I not listen :)]. When I listen to Eminem's Sing for the Moment I hear someone who knows they can influence others through their music "...I guess words are a mother*****/they can be great/or they can teach hate...they say music can alter moods and talk to you...music is reflection of self...just let our spirits live on through our lyrics that you hear in our songs..."; or T.I.: "...Either die or go to jail/That's a hell of a decision/But I'm wrong and I know it/My excuse is unimportant/I'm just trynna let you know/That I aint think I had a choice...You waiting on me to die/You're gon' be waitin for a minute/Boy I'm ready for whatever/Somebody better tell 'em/I'll be here when the storm's clear/And everything's settled..." [Ready for Whatever] - here's a guy stepping up to the plate and taking responsibility for their actions when they screw up, but remain determined to make it; or Nada Surf: "To make a mountain of/Your life is just a choice...Always love/Hate will get you every time/Always love/Don't wait till the finish line..." [Always Love] - don't sweat the small stuff, don't let little issues ruin friendships, don't hold grudges; or Angels & Airwaves: "...We all make mistakes/Here's your lifeline..." [Lifeline] - second chances; or Avril Lavigne: "...Keep holding on (coz you know we'll make it through)/Just stay strong (coz you know I'm here for you..." [Keep Holding On] - persistence, never give up, you're not alone; and those are just the happy songs. I have a whole booklet for the sad ones. In fact I think I have something to say about every song I like. That is a. lot. of. songs.

Anyway, my brother and his band; I hope it all goes well for them. And I hope they use the power they have as musicians to effect positive change in those around them. Or even just in himself... And I hope he watches The Dark Knight one of these days, coz, among other things, the Joker said something very profound: "If you're really good at something, don't ever do it for free."

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