tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1992191128254845182024-02-19T02:06:22.666-08:00RuthibelleYou live, you learn, you grow...ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.comBlogger327125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-67476616331560329432022-11-04T09:14:00.007-07:002022-11-04T09:14:54.195-07:00Revival <p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I might not be 100% certain what I want, but I'm 100% certain that this is still not it ... yet.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Anyway</span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;">, I welcome my own revival.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">- Ruthibelle </span></p>ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-77064352638461552352018-09-06T03:13:00.002-07:002018-09-06T07:56:20.887-07:00Back To School For Meeeeee!I've been out of academia for almost a decade. Just saying that makes me feel like an old woman. But earlier this year, I sent in my application to study for an MSc. I hadn't really made the decision to do the MSc yet. I was just giving myself the option - <i>just in case</i> life ended up working out in a way that could accommodate it. I had no idea where the money would come from - or the time, for that matter.<br />
<br />
Well, one bold move and three job changes later, here I am - doing my MSc. I'm actually doing this. And, to be honest, I'm as excited as you please, but I'm a little nervous too, because I haven't been a <i>student</i> in so long. I don't even remember what that feels like. I used to be great at school. I wonder if I still am. I used to be essayist extraordinaire. I wonder how long it will take to brush that skill off and get back into the research/writing groove. I used to be Miss Participation. I wonder if I will have the time or energy to do anything more than go to class and go home. I used to be Miss Ambition. I wonder if I even care enough to want to win or lead anything. Or if anyone would want me to (lol).<br />
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This is one of those moments when I'm full of anticipation and questions. I <i>love</i> school. I'm very clear on the fact that that sentiment hasn't changed. But now I work full time, and I have other responsibilities that eat into my time in significant ways. Now I actually have a life (lol, I'm now qualified to tell undergrads to get one).<br />
<br />
It has been a wonderfully full life. And I'm not willing to surrender any part of it. How do I make room for more without exhausting what already exists? How do I expand myself and my life without diminishing the impact or importance of everything I am already part of? Is there room for more?<br />
<br />
<b>There has to be.</b> The path has already been chosen, and the journey has already begun. And I think the people who preach abundance have the perfect advice for this situation: Think abundance, not limitation. There is enough room in your life for everything you need. You have the capacity and capability to excel in ALL areas.<br />
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It all has worked itself out so beautifully and effortlessly so far that I am honestly not perturbed about it. What did Desiderata say? <i>Whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.</i>ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-6566333864871513572018-05-06T14:49:00.000-07:002018-09-06T07:51:48.277-07:00Some Grace For Today<div class="post_title medium" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 24px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: 29px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px 20px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span class="quote" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Put down pathetic and pick up POWERFUL. The day you decide, life obeys. Today could be the day … Change is one decision away. The right energy in the right space can turn you loose in the right ways … Refuse bondage, people. Life is too short to be a willing slave.</span></div>
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- Ruthibelle</div>
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ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-62465054961505345032018-05-01T09:37:00.000-07:002018-05-03T09:25:54.458-07:00Believe In & Go For Goodness' Sake!<div class="post_title medium" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: georgia, serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 29px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px 20px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="quote" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. Life really IS beautiful. Things really ARE going your way. And it is ALRIGHT to be alright. Breathe, and recognise that fear is unnatural and unhealthy.</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div>
<span class="quote" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I posted this to my Tumblr and Twitter, and then sat down to think about it. So many of us have been programmed to wait for the next thing to go wrong. We've been taught to live our lives in perpetual fear of various real or imagined undesirable scenarios. We fear death. We fear failure. We fear rejection, disappointment, poverty, heartbreak, disease, embarrassment, animals, people ... the list stretches on and on.</span><br />
<span class="quote" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span>
<span class="quote" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">If we aren't critical, over time, these fears begin to feel like the normal pattern of our lives. We go through large stretches of life where we're either </span>feeling troubled,<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"> </span>avoiding trouble, <span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">dreading trouble, in trouble, getting out of trouble ... It's all we can see, all we can think of, all we can talk about, and, eventually, all we expect. </span><br />
<span class="quote" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span>
<span class="quote" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I recently made a big move in my life. I found it interesting to listen to the responses of friends and associates after I shared the news with them. Some responded with optimism and confidence in my ability. Some responded with congratulations and wished me well. Some expressed envy and hopes to make a similar move ... and some responded with cautionary tales and ominous-sounding cliches ... reminding me to watch out for ever-present trouble. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">I took away from each conversation fresh insight on how each person responded to the world. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">The ones that irked me the most were the people who seem particularly skilled at looking for the dark cloud behind every silver lining. For example, my news is a silver lining. Their response? Not so much. I heard people asking: 'Yuh sure yuh want do that?', 'Yuh sure is the right time?', 'Yuh talk to God bout it?' or 'Yuh sure this is the right one?'</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">1. I know some of these responses were well-intentioned</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">2. At first glance, they might seem sage and sanctified. But are they?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">3. OR are these questions just expressions of habitual doubt and fear? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">I observed that the people asking these questions were usually the ones who are less inclined to ACT or DO. And their responses helped me to see why. Their questions are crutches for cowardice.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">I know people who have spent more than a decade waiting for some obscure, mysterious, undefinable period/person known as 'the right time', 'the right one', or 'the right moment', or even 'God's time' - which often translates to 'no time', but never quite makes it to something useful, like 'no time like the present'.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">These people live in chronic fear of making a decision, making a mistake, or of doing something that they believe will so devastate their lives, they will never be able to recover. The fear of being wrong so paralyses them that they convince themselves that t</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">hey are better off with the discontent of the familiar, rather than the discomfort and uncertainty of the new. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">I</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">f you allow it, they will</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"> try to impose this kind of</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"> existence on you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">My short formula to alleviate that nightmarish and futile cycle of doubt and inertia is:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">- Weigh your options</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">- Weigh the pros and cons</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">- Make a decision</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">- Act!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">Then take responsibility for your choice and make the most of it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">The friends who asked me these questions are the same ones who tend to think negatively about life. They hear good news, and immediately conjure up worst-case scenarios. They immediately try to throw dark clouds of worry over every new development. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">I have learnt to watch out for and avoid these kinds of people. Watch out for people whose every statement of caution comes tinged with portents of pain. Watch out for people who genuinely think they're saying things that will help you, but are actually introducing you to fear, doubt and double-mindedness. If you're not careful, under their influence, your life will start to seem like one everlasting exercise in pathetic 'coulda, woulda, shudda's.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">Learn to celebrate when good things happen for you or others. Once all the necessary checks and considerations have been made - the decision to boldly go forward in life is one that ought to be met with enthusiasm and grace. Don't ignore the many kindnesses life offers you daily. Quit waiting for the next storm to appear. In a moment of peace, accept it and believe that this could be the way things stay for a very long time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">Peace is possible as a DAILY way of life. I know it. I live it. And I'm never going back.</span></div>
ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-83080568729027035692018-03-09T11:13:00.000-08:002018-03-09T11:13:51.234-08:00Another Year, Another Lesson (Or What I Learned In 2017)I wanted to say that 2016 was the best year of my life. Then 2017 came. And the kind of awesome it left in its wake had me gasping for breath and desperate for more. 2017 had clearly turned my world upside down in all the right ways. Now I'm two and a half months into 2018. And I'm already saying, with a big grin, 'Come through, 2018. I'm ready for you.' I am honestly happy that amid the glory that was 2017, I was aware enough to note the lessons that would help make 2018 even better.<br />
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<h3>
1. Pay closer attention to money matters.</h3>
In 2017, I made a very firm decision to fix all my money matters once and for all. I decided that I would pursue my best financial self in a way I never had before. I scrutinised my spending habits - the lies I had bought about the kind of lifestyle a mid-professional is supposed to afford, the appearances I had unwittingly kept up - to my own financial demise. And then I researched. I looked for strategies that actually worked. I looked for institutions that had great customer support and programmes that would help me to get where I wanted to be. And then I changed. I took on a pauper's lifestyle. But with the knowledge that today-s sacrifice is only the precursor to tomorrow's success. So I ended the year broke, but aware of exactly where all that money was or had gone. And also very aware of what I was building with every dollar that no longer lay idly in my pocket.<br />
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<h3>
2. Go hard an' dun'.</h3>
This is the truth. For years, I've been hearing that God allows rain to fall on the just and the unjust. But it was always explained to mean that God is so benevolent, he allows even the undeserving ('unjust') to experience the goodness of his rain. Nobody ever flipped that meaning for me, and it was through my life's experiences and observations that I realised that it really meant that anything can happen to anyone at any time - good or bad. Which is why playing it safe is an exercise in futility. Life is meant to be lived. And hiding from that fact - denying it, ignoring it - will never serve you. So I upped the ante in several areas of my life. I just went all-in at yet another level. And it yielded fruits. Abundant fruits. Good fruits. I witnessed acceleration, connection and promotion like I'd never experienced it before. All because I chose to abandon inhibitions and forget to be afraid of the bad things that could happen, and just jump in and give everything.<br />
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<h3>
3. Push everything.</h3>
There is always another level. And the minute you become aware of that, you can accelerate your own growth process by PUSHING for more. The minute you achieve something, or see maturity in yourself, acknowledge it and appreciate it, but don't settle and get comfortable. You grow quicker when you immediately remind yourself that yes, this is awesome, but there is another, even more magnificent level just out of reach. Immediately envision and start going for more, and you'll soon be realising it. I've applied this to projects, friendships ... it works. I try to exercise wisdom and not be a burden, but I also push as a safeguard against my own laziness and complacency. And so far, it has worked every time.<br />
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<h3>
4. Appreciate the value of now.</h3>
I always have to remind myself of this when I have clothes to wash. I don't have a washing machine, so I handwash my clothes, and when there is a lot of sunshine on a particular day and I don't feel like washing, I say to myself: You can't save today's sunshine for tomorrow. It's true. The weather for the next day could be cloudy, or rainy. And then how would my clothes get dried? Or, the way life happens, I could get a project to do that takes up all of the following day, or get injured at the gym ... So many things could happen to stop me from being able to wash my clothes the following day; wisdom is to use the time I am sure of - NOW - to get the job done.<br />
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<h3>
5. Listen to your instincts.</h3>
At some point in your life, you must learn to trust yourself more than you trust anyone else. And this trust must be grounded in something deeper, more reliable and more concrete than ego or self-deceit. It's madness to alsways be depending on another person or being's opinion to figure out your life. It's your life. You have to take full responsibility for it. A crucial part of that is learning to listen to your own instincts. Learn to identify the subtle push and pull, the quiet tug of your heart, that intrinsic part of you that just <i>knows</i> ... and listen to it. It's on your side. And the simple fact is, you can't really ever be sure that anyone else is.<br />
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<h3>
6. Unless they're relevant, leave old things in old times.</h3>
This is another realisation you must make at some point in your life: the past is the past; leave it there. I just did a big step over certain stories that had been replaying continuously in my mind. I just kinda looked at them, saw their futility and uselessness, and stepped over them on my way to more productive things. I have so many days and years on Planet Earth. I wil not waste another minute trying to relive or undo or fix the past. No. I'm over it. Moving on.<br />
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<h3>
7. Risk.</h3>
I won't say much on this except that there will come a time in your life when you meet one goal, or project, or purpose, or person that is worth abandoning loads of other things for. When it all feels quietly and solidly right, and is helping to push your life in the right direction, accept it, embrace it, and ride that wave to the very end. And if it turns out to carry a cliche name like falling in love, and by your estimation is worth its weight, take the plunge. Go ahead and fall.<br />
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<h3>
8. Hit F5.</h3>
That's right. Frequently press 'Refresh'. On everything. It makes sense to just periodically reset your entire life: your friendships, goals, money, perspectives. Never become so settled that your once-fresh perspectives stagnate without your knowing. Keep hitting refresh. Keep checking your belief system, your core values ... watch yourself change and grow and develop, and, every now and then, just take a fresh look at you and appreciate the expanded perspective, the renewed sense of purpose ... the evolving human being ...ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-30058623365191951872017-11-10T03:15:00.000-08:002018-01-31T14:49:16.215-08:00Cuba Chronicles: My Trip In PhotosMy two weeks in Cuba were an exercise in catch and release. I caught glimpses of architectural and cultural beauty beyond compare. And I released myself to the experience completely.<br />
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Here are some of my highlights - in photos.<br />
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<br />ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-91928181633607846252017-10-28T14:32:00.000-07:002018-01-31T14:48:26.988-08:00Cuba Chronicles: Relearning Patience with Dial-Up Internet<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I’ve never been a particularly patient person. I know that I
like the fast life precisely because it is exactly that: fast. No tedious hours
of waiting and waiting and oh so boring waiting. So. Imagine with me the agony I feel even as I type this blog post, and wait patiently for the characters to appear on the screen long after I have typed them. Imagine what I feel when I cannot make a WhatsApp call and stay on the phone all night with my beloved because - well - that's just not how it's done here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To be honest, the Internet in Cuba is not bad. It's just slower than what I'm used to. And they say you never know what you've got till it's gone - even temporarily.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have taken deep breaths, messaged my people to let them know I will be more out of than in touch with them for the next two weeks, and come to terms with the fact that old-world charm is not always all that charming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Funny thing is, I knew that I would not have Internet for most of my time here. I just hadn't stopped to truly appreciate the full implications of that thought. I somehow still expected to be able to WhatsApp and Insta and tweet and blog to my heart's content. I hadn't formed a concrete concept of what 'no Internet' or very little Internet would look and feel like.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There's so much to learn from this revelation. I realise I'm probably as spoilt as any other millenial. And even though I have prided myself on not being attached to all my worldly trappings, apparently I still have more than a passing love affair with some. Cuba is proving that - and showing me some heretofore obscured aspects of myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I almost got miserable at the prospect of no readily accessible Internet yesterday. I wanted to share moments from my day with others and couldn't. I wanted to do a blog and post immediately, but couldn't. Eventually, I put down the phone and opened my ears and eyes to the beautiful wonders of this foreign land. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cuba is aesthetically amazing. Its rich architectural history has been painstakingly preserved. It's reputation for revolution and rebellion is heralded in every story tourists are fed. They are a simple people, and yet they are a proud people. They have an identity forged through separation from the rest of the Americanised world that has also manifested in a sense of national pride. I like that. I'm enjoying hearing about that. And seeing the relics of times I have only read about.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I can't help thinking, thank goodness there is no phone or Internet to distract me from absorbing and fully engaging all this marvelous country has to offer. There is a calm that can come with disconnection. Funny. I'm just learning something the Cubans already know.</span></div>
ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-15605436036051002062017-10-26T14:21:00.000-07:002018-01-31T14:49:31.555-08:00Cuba Chronicles: COPA and the Jamaican Prayer Warrior<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She was sitting on the opposite side of the aisle two rows up from
me. I could see her, not because I got an aisle seat, or because of the bright
yellow sweater she was wearing, but because of the furtive rocking back and
forth that went on pretty much the entire flight.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And I do mean the entire flight. From the minute she stowed away
her carry-on and sat down, this woman began to rock and mutter under her
breath. At first I couldn’t catch what she was saying, but as the intensity
increased, and the volume along with it, I realised that she was praying. She
must have been praying. That is the only logical explanation for phrases like
“rout the enemy”, “put the devil’s plans to flight”, “grant us safe passage, oh
God”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When she was finished, I whispered ‘amen’ too. Couldn’t hurt. My
parents raised me to reverence and fear God and the godly, in all their various
manifestations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But it wasn’t over. The flight took off, and everyone settled
down, and I got into the novel I had brought along. Then the muttering started
again. My Jamaican prayer warrior had decided to have her own little prayer and
worship session right there on the plane in her seat. The rocking resumed, and
for much of the flight to Panama, she was a mass of bobbing jherri curls and
upraised hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Her eyes were tightly shut the entire time. I know her eyes were
shut because one of her legs was in the passage, and when the air hostess was
trying to pass her with the serving tray, the man sitting beside her had to tap
her on the shoulder and point out that she needed to move the obstructing foot
so the air hostess could pass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She obliged, closed her eyes, and the rocking and head-bobbing and
chants resumed: “Jeeeeee-suuuuuus! Jeeeee-suuuuus!” She was whispering. But I
could hear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When the plane touched down and we were taxi-ing to our final
stop, my prayer warrior lifted her hands (fully, up to this point they had been
at half-mast) and said, “Thank you, Puppa Jesus! Mighty deliverer! Yuh do it
again!” And clapped. Then looked to her neighbour and pumped a fist, as if to
say, ‘Yes, our team won!’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It made me smile. Because Jamaican quirks are what they are no
matter where on the planet we are. While we were exiting the plane, I watched
the jherri curls and yellow shirt disappear into the crowd of disembarking
passengers. Who is to say that beyond the bright yellow of her blouse, that
prayer warrior hadn’t, in the way she knew how, just added a little light to
all our lives?</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-85564993545677060272017-10-24T07:45:00.000-07:002018-01-31T14:49:50.946-08:00Cuba Chronicles: Bienvenida a Cuba!!Every time I take a trip out of Jamaica and fly off to somewhere, it represents a personal conquest. For the entire trip, I sit in planes and airports with an inanely gargantuan grin plastered across my face. And nothing (except maybe gas masks falling in the plane) can get that smile off.<br />
<br />
So I'm off again. This time to a close Caribbean neighbour. I've been curious about Cuba for longer than I can say. Maybe especially since high school, when a dramatic influx of Cuban teachers to Jamaica left me with four of eight classes being taught by Cuban natives. Two became instant favourites who have permanent soft spots in my heart. Another - my grade eight form teacher Mrs Douglas - was the subject of a juicy scandal that rocked the school for months after she and her husband disappeared and were declared wanted by police in connection to a work-travel scam that fleeced hundreds of money and personal documents.<br />
<br />
Now that I think of it, that's probably not the best backdrop from which to develop a curiosity about a country. I'm not particularly curious about what it feels like to be scammed. But the memory stands out as my earliest encounter with Cubans (and to be honest, at the time, for my little rural high school where nothing ever happened, it was all scandalously scintillating).<br />
<br />
Crooks and crookedness aside, there have been Cuban lecturers at university, as well as various doctors and nurses over the years, who have helped to pique my interest in this country. Then there was that course I did on Cuban literature which revolutionised my perspective of El Lider - Fidel Castro, and Che Guevara. I was so engrossed with the history of that country and the way their authors used literature to express their struggles - plus Mr Jo Pereira was a fantastic facilitator - I easily aced that course.<br />
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Lately, the urge to go somewhere has kept my feet more in mid-air than on the ground. And then there are friends who've been to Cuba who know I'm possessed by the travel bug; they keep telling me to visit Cuba now, before it changes from a romantic throwback paradise into 'just another modernised developing nation'.<br />
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All of that and two weeks of vacation time - and a little extra change in my pocket - have led to this trip. I'm psyched out of my mind. I'm ready for this. And I can't wait to see what secrets Cuba has to tell me. For now, I'll sit in a plane with a permanent Cheshire cat grin waiting to touch down to a new adventure.ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-73372519178816317152017-03-12T07:02:00.001-07:002017-03-12T19:08:31.471-07:00How to Have a BIG WIN Year (Or What I Learned in 2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvCgUZ5CJ4BdWygLavwIhsABuLBELEE_vMUfSsQTS-Wf9SM-qeCRhO66wXDG9sN716IUEw3ybjGAZvYZ0hno5xC3WxsYuwn43otokND-kXsycf18xsfS6larUgir75zrYAVPO09P6p9Xc/s1600/win.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvCgUZ5CJ4BdWygLavwIhsABuLBELEE_vMUfSsQTS-Wf9SM-qeCRhO66wXDG9sN716IUEw3ybjGAZvYZ0hno5xC3WxsYuwn43otokND-kXsycf18xsfS6larUgir75zrYAVPO09P6p9Xc/s200/win.png" width="200" /></a></div>
First of all, big breakthroughs are precipitated by years of hard work and developing good habits. None of it happens by chance. I live with the intention to be better than I was yesterday, to learn from every situation, and to mature into the best possible version of myself. This is the basis of my beliefs and actions. So even when I seem to make drastic changes to my beliefs and actions, the underlying motivation remains constant (someone needed to hear that).<br />
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At the end of last year, I decided to engage <b><i>people</i></b>. That was it. I decided to have a people-centric year. I set the intentions of (1) more effectively and consistently serving the ones I love, and (2) forming more meaningful connections with people of like passions. The result was a BIG WIN year. Here are the principles that stood out most:<br />
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1. Spend time with people you love and who love you. </h4>
I spent 2016 giving more TIME to people whose company infused me with energy, who I was sure genuinely cared for me, who consistently made time for me, and with whom I shared similar passions and interests. I just gave them the lion's share of my time and consistently chose to be with them. The result was that I spent less time with people who didn't meet that criteria, and had many more moments of joy and genuine connection, and much less awkwardness, discomfort and angst. I had unwittingly found and chosen to be with MY TRIBE! These were the people to whom and with whom I truly belonged. It gave me loads of energy and encouragement and peace. There was less dissent and doubt and fear. These people believed with me and sometimes FOR me, and pushed me when I was just drained and exhausted, because <b>they love me </b>(for real reals).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UylzQSjPXBuIgny1OA4LDVoDJA9w4MdTaI7Mpf_CB4MwvtimZQfyMonNaB9orIB5bK3uaeLGqMhYBRt2dFJ-dKGaTiHH5AO8oYICiqh9dJfTU_myIiqifIcpqFaY8iI33AFNt6Zm5nw/s1600/likeyou.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UylzQSjPXBuIgny1OA4LDVoDJA9w4MdTaI7Mpf_CB4MwvtimZQfyMonNaB9orIB5bK3uaeLGqMhYBRt2dFJ-dKGaTiHH5AO8oYICiqh9dJfTU_myIiqifIcpqFaY8iI33AFNt6Zm5nw/s200/likeyou.png" width="200" /></a></div>
2. Look for connection.</h4>
This is so important. I chose to just trust my gut and go after the people with whom I felt deep connections. It worked. I would go to events, talk with lots of people, and follow up closely with the ones with whom I'd felt some kind of spark. I ended up making lots of new friends with whom I share plenty of common interest. And I ended up strengthening relationships that had been casual for years. I found people I could help, and who could help me, and who were running in the same direction as me and were willing to join me on the journey. My people knowledge database expanded drastically in one short year. It was great!<br />
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3. Do what you love.</h4>
Because it's your life, and if you don't enjoy it, who will? I just threw out the burdensome, tedious tasks I had felt obligated to do and, as often as I could, did the things I was really interested in and excited about. I went to more art exhibits, book readings and launches, parties, self-improvement seminars, dance concerts - anything I already knew I loved to do that filled me with zest and joy, I pursued that. The result was more connections with people of like passion, and plenty bliss. Pure bliss.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMSeOIPpUO4stdS-dZtw5QOpc_BQ0JuhH8I1-gVxoOJtK13zM3Q0tTIdcZAL35AmC6hqSlS6pdNtDkWDuAKtkxySosEukNn51xL5DxmopHpwOMjXShbqqPUqgidNL9fIsjhw_OUGY26UM/s1600/hear.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMSeOIPpUO4stdS-dZtw5QOpc_BQ0JuhH8I1-gVxoOJtK13zM3Q0tTIdcZAL35AmC6hqSlS6pdNtDkWDuAKtkxySosEukNn51xL5DxmopHpwOMjXShbqqPUqgidNL9fIsjhw_OUGY26UM/s200/hear.png" width="200" /></a></div>
4. Express self less and listen more.</h4>
When I made the decision to engage people more, I chose to be an active listener and encourager. My focus became: 'how can I be <i>present</i> for this person right now?' I made serving others a priority, and I learned something from that: people want to be heard. Often, lunch and a listening ear was all it took to turn a casual friendship into something more solid and intimate. I just listened and let them know that I really cared (because I really did). That was a definite game-changer. People appreciate honesty and genuine concern. But if you think about it, of course they do! We all want that.<br />
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Listening more also gave me many nuggets and insights that I had missed before. I re-learnt a lot of my friends last year. <i>I heard them.</i> You can't become a better listener without also becoming more observant overall. So I picked up on certain cues and expressions. I heard the story beneath the words. And I learned to appreciate these people, and love them so much more.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5dIotOo3RhTKxOneZ3aHEsJRWzLZBdahW4zleWhyphenhyphenTrkM1Nckd-C62CckJ0K2zcUmfXahKAioAMYmpXqSD4GzO88wZC0-IPpWI98Xnbee2Bi-6DXsEIqqg-GkDCwufRVGJk_ycjImZkY/s1600/seeyah.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5dIotOo3RhTKxOneZ3aHEsJRWzLZBdahW4zleWhyphenhyphenTrkM1Nckd-C62CckJ0K2zcUmfXahKAioAMYmpXqSD4GzO88wZC0-IPpWI98Xnbee2Bi-6DXsEIqqg-GkDCwufRVGJk_ycjImZkY/s200/seeyah.png" width="200" /></a></div>
5. Learn to let go.</h4>
I didn't realise it at the time, but deciding to more actively engage people I felt strong connections to automatically meant less engagement with those I didn't. Some friendships just faded. When I went after connection, I realised how many people were sorta just there ... in my life because I had picked them up at some point, and they just kinda stuck over the years. We no longer shared common interests or passions, we just had common history. But this history was no longer relevant to where or who I was. And I had to learn to let those go. When a friendship no longer has a certain kind of intensity, allow it to become casual. Don't be afraid to let go of the people you've known all your life who you no longer relate to. If you've grown apart, admit it, love them, but don't stress about it. Allow the relationship to grow where it's growing. Don't see it as loss. See it as evolving.<br />
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6. Get the good exhausted. </h4>
The kind of exhaustion that comes from doing so much of something you love with people you love and thoroughly enjoy, that you are just all worn out. What's the point of agonising over things that do not serve you at all? Why get tired doing things you despise with people you really don't belong with? Find your tribe. Find your passion. And then go for it with all you've got. Take the risk. Work superhard! And get the exhaustion that fills you with joy and satisfaction and fulfillment. Get the good exhausted.ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-76686891335017275692017-02-20T02:41:00.000-08:002017-02-20T03:00:07.443-08:00SIGMA RUN 2017I use the Sagicor SIGMA Run to gage my aging process each year. My time, how I feel when I'm running, how many young whippersnappers breeze past me ... All of these are the non-scientific indicators I use to determine whether or not my body is still up to the fitness challenge.<br />
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This year, I saw a proliferation of tiny primary schoolers whizzing past me, my calves were on fire, my stomach was churning bile, my breathing was very halted, and I felt like a very tired 50. Meanwhile, some little upstarts were just blazing past me with all their hype and energy, and I realised that my not-yet-30-year-old body was threatening to jump into the nearest AmbuCare ambulance and just stay put.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">A thought occurred to me this year, though, that had me chuckling and crafting a poem in my head while I walk-ran. It was after seeing a madman standing on the side of the road watching the passers by, and the women in particular.</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> He inspired this poem:</span></div>
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SIGMA 2017</div>
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Mad man standing at half mast</div>
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Eyes bump-a-bumping</div>
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To rhythmic rotund rumps</div>
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Jouncing down the street</div>
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Drumming time</div>
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To the patter of running feet</div>
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ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-54397446965735353742016-12-03T16:21:00.000-08:002016-12-03T16:22:25.679-08:00Is it time to get a life coach?<br />
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I'm considering getting life coaching for 2017. Partly because I'm curious to see how that works first-hand, and partly because I think I would really benefit from it. I'm already driven and determined and pretty disciplined ... but the mantra for 2017 is DOUBLE EVERYTHING, so I need to double my energy, effort and impact. Life coaching can probably help with that.<br />
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What made me start to consider life coaching as more than just a fleeting fantasy was the fact that I met a phenomenal friend online. (Yes. I do that. I have met great people online: awesome movers and shakers who are also wellsprings of wisdom and knowledge about a variety of things that matter to me in life.) I find like-minded and like-spirited people wherever they are. And I embrace them and the roles they play for however long in my journey. Sometimes the meeting is fleeting - an ephemeral connection. And sometimes ... sometimes the connections stick and those strangers become friends. Long-distance friends, yes. But still, friends.<br />
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This one woman has been dropping emails in my inbox for years now, freely sharing about her life and her journey. I usually drop her a one-liner or so in response. But some time earlier this year, I made the decision to actively engage the people to whom I feel a genuine attraction/connection. (I should do a post about how that one decision, consistently applied to every new relationship, has transformed almost every single aspect of my life. <a href="http://ruthibelle.blogspot.com/2016/11/ive-learnt-to-love-people.html">It has resulted in a love explosion.</a> My friendships, family life, work life, volunteerism ... game-changing decision, I tell you).</div>
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So I've always been able to relate to this lady's posts. They are usually of the bare-your-heart variety. Her writing is direct, yet open and vulnerable, and I have a really big appreciation for the principles she usually lands on by the end of her emails. They resonate with me in a big way, and one day, I wrote a somewhat lengthy email telling her so. She responded. I responded. And we've been dialoguing ever since.<br />
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Here's why I call it a friendship: there is an honesty in the conversations that allow us both to be frank and pull from and learn from each other. I have grown from those dialogues. So much so that I am now considering trying a life coach for 2017. Imagine: we didn't make a commitment to connect or help each other, or anything. We just talked freely, and it has transformed me. I have gained so much insight and applicable solutions to various problems ... That's the power of connection.<br />
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It makes me wonder how much more growing and learning I could do if I had one person who was devoted to that cause alone: helping me see my blind spots and triggers, teaching me the best and most effective ways to deal with certain things ... it might accelerate the growth process significantly. It could change the game -again- in magnificent ways. It might be the missing ingredient to make 2017 a real double-up year. Who knows? I just might do it.<br />
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ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-37529064665530387392016-11-04T14:50:00.000-07:002016-11-07T23:09:02.134-08:00I've learnt to love people<a href="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/8333556-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" class="bitmoji-image" data-downloadurl="image/png:5754.png:https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/8333556-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" data-reactid=".0.0.1.2.1.0.$5754" data-src="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/8333556-%s-v1.png?transparent=1" draggable="true" src="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/8333556-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" /></a>Aren't you happy that life doesn't leave you in default mode? And that it sends you what you need to discover your best self? I'm happy, because life has taught me to let go, live and love; and I think I've finally caught on and found a flow that has more of that in it than anything else ... and it is golden.<br />
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I've learnt to love people. I know that may sound weird, or sappy, but it's so true. If you're reading this and you're one of the people in my life, chances are, I'm talking about you. I've learnt to love you. And let you lean on me. And be honest with you. And let you into my very full life. I've learnt to see you as gifted and beautiful and precious and flawed and human, and I <i><b>LOVE </b></i>you!<br />
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Before this, I think I was more an anthropologist than an active participant in your life. I was there because I was there by default and I was more interested in what was going on in my head than in yours. Sorry.</div>
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I wasn't aware that this wasn't a natural or beneficial state of affairs. Timeless truth: you don't know what you don't know until you find out. But 2016 has been a game changer year for me. I don't know when or how. I could pinpoint many moments. There has been a progression into acceptance that has been ... for want of a better word ... beautiful. My life has become part of a flow, and this flow is ... almost magic it's so good.<br />
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I think it comes from truly appreciating people for who they are, and from intentionally becoming a person who allows others to relax because they know that you represent a judgement-free, supportive, genuinely caring zone, although sporadically crazy space where they can just be ... . And I like when I find that in others too. I love when I meet someone who is just <i>chevere</i>. Peace really does come like a river. And it really does reside in your soul.<br />
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I don't know if this is a season. I hope it's a permanent state of being ... but I love it. I love the me I am. And I love the you you are. Truly. I've learned to let you be and just love you ...<br />
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Selah.</div>
ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-21294769010313181772016-10-12T04:40:00.000-07:002016-10-12T04:40:36.419-07:00To be, or not to be ... my #Bitmoji?<a href="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/9988986-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" class="bitmoji-image" data-downloadurl="image/png:6366.png:https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/9988986-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" data-reactid=".0.0.1.2.1.0.$6366" data-src="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/9988986-%s-v1.png?transparent=1" draggable="true" height="200" src="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/9988986-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" width="199" /></a>I might be jealous of my #Bitmoji. She has more swag than I do. And the way she changes outfits - in the click of a button? Oh how I wish it were that simple! My Bitmoji has clothing choices from Calvin Klein, Alexander McQueen, Bergdorf Goodman, Michael Kors, Marc Jacobs ... She can go from casual to formal in a heartbeat. She has the perfect outfits for her body size, and accessories come with them all! SMH. Lucky, lucky girl.<br />
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She doesn't have to worry about social awkwardness and angst. She's been programmed for expression perfection. No matter the situation, she has a quip, a line, a look, or something that will usually provoke the right reaction ... especially from MY closest friends and family. And she comes with a built-in disclaimer: if something she does or says doesn't go over well with her audience, they don't blame <i>her</i>, they blame <i>ME</i>! She gets away with expressing herself HOWEVER she wishes - anger, sadness, annoyance, boredom, joy ... she says it all and doesn't care. I'm the one who has to be paying attention and ensuring that what she says is appropriate and inoffensive.<br />
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<a href="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/9954509-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" class="bitmoji-image" data-downloadurl="image/png:6537.png:https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/9954509-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" data-reactid=".0.0.1.2.1.0.$6537" data-src="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/9954509-%s-v1.png?transparent=1" draggable="true" height="200" src="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/9954509-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" width="199" /></a>I love her fearlessness. She's not afraid to say 'I'm sorry', or 'I love you', 'I miss' you', and 'wish you were here' - and even 'you stink!' She has no qualms about telling it like it is, and even if she is afraid, she expresses that fear with fierce boldness - she's not afraid to be afraid. Or vulnerable. Or wrong and foolish and quirky.<br />
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My Bitmoji is also enviably adventurous - flying off ropes, swinging on trellises, popping out of cars, cakes and boxes, throwing on all sorts of disguises, quoting flicks like a real movie buff, celebrating every holiday on the planet ... she's everybody's favourite funny girl.<br />
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<a href="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/7724871-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" class="bitmoji-image" data-downloadurl="image/png:3543.png:https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/7724871-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" data-reactid=".0.0.1.2.1.0.$3543" data-src="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/7724871-%s-v1.png?transparent=1" draggable="true" height="200" src="https://render.bitstrips.com/v2/cpanel/7724871-184853752_2-s4-v1.png?transparent=1" width="198" /></a>It makes me think about the reservations we often carry with us through life. It can be so easy to start to live on 20-25% of your personality, to somehow just morph yourself into the mundane patterns necessary to get through the days, and to forget, as a result, to claim, express or develop the other 75-80% of who we are ... or could be. Can you imagine what the world would be like if we were all unafraid and crazily expressive like our Bitmoji selves? (Although, truth is, some of us are!) What would our relationships look like if we were <i>that </i>honest with each other? If we said what we meant and felt: I'm sorry; I love you; I miss you; I'm proud of you ... ?<br />
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Maybe Bitmojis and emoticons are our way of 'safely' expressing the part of us that wants to connect with people and be vulnerable and open without actually being all of that often uncomfortable stuff ... maybe they enable us to express the things that would otherwise be difficult to say. Or maybe they give us a cop-out, feeding our tendency to avoid genuineness and authenticity, and helping us hide behind funny faces and quick quips that ultimately mean nothing at all.<br />
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Food for thought.<br />
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<br />ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-11391306153667337432016-10-07T17:33:00.001-07:002016-10-07T17:54:47.013-07:00Here comes the new ... JOB!It's amazing how, when you have a little free time, sometimes you don't appreciate it. One month and one blog post ago, I must have had free time. I know I had free time because I was able to sit down and write whiny little blog posts about how I 'wasted' a day and waah waah waah ... . Now? Not so, little grasshopper. I don't have time to whine and pontificate. That season is done and over with. Goodbye, au revoir, and sayanora.<br />
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By now I should know the pattern. Life comes in seasons, and they alternate in extremities. So I've glided out of got-time-to-Netflix-binge (which I <i>thought </i>was a pretty hectic time for me) into get-to-work-get-to-work-get-to-work. I have so many things to finish, a big side load of things to throw myself into, and a host of future things to think through and plan properly. This is for real, real, real. But you know what? I LOVE IT!!! I am never so pumped as when I have a lot of things to do and my brain is just ticking, ticking, ticking with ideas and tasks and stuff ... it makes me come ALIVE!! I am so HIGH right now, marijuana can't touch me! I came home, sat down, and thought: so <i>this </i>is what it feels like to come home after a day doing work you love ... hmmm ... I could get used to it.</div>
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I'm just saying ... I've got a new job, I already love it, and I am SUPEREXCITED about it!</div>
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ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-52216767640789378842016-09-08T21:23:00.003-07:002016-09-08T21:31:51.796-07:00How I wasted a day OR redefining wasted timeI feel like a terrible person.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrxcUwseaihrzy_3kBp1u2bMi4pCDvGaalE8wevHlK4sVvAo2EXMGYg0semKzWtxBDddRfHIgVxtTOmRZgBn7nxJdARQKL7pod8SsawRYzI9YcGlIXD_a5JWDnoIYBtcABiF3b4vOxaPY/s1600/tiredbitmoji.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrxcUwseaihrzy_3kBp1u2bMi4pCDvGaalE8wevHlK4sVvAo2EXMGYg0semKzWtxBDddRfHIgVxtTOmRZgBn7nxJdARQKL7pod8SsawRYzI9YcGlIXD_a5JWDnoIYBtcABiF3b4vOxaPY/s200/tiredbitmoji.png" width="200" /></a>Wanna know why? I blew a day. A whole day. I did no [real] work today. I woke, made breakfast, and then I sat down and binge-watched How I Met Your Mother. Netflix has the entire series. And I am a Netflix fan. My main sources of entertainment are real life, books and the Internet. I try to Netflix with moderation. But sometimes I end up doing things like binge-watching an entire series in the time that I should have been doing ... you know ... productive stuff.<br />
<br />
Like writing. I'm a big believer in the am-writing hashtag world on Twitter, et al. I draw real encouragement from those 140 or less characters detailing other people's struggles and successes with the writing process all across the Twittersphere. I join in the write-at-whatever-hour groups when I can. I join the late-night writers and try to use my after-work hours to polish my future bestsellers. I try to give my writing as much time as I give to my nine-to-five, because I read somewhere that it's ridiculous to give so much time, effort and discipline to another person's dream, and then pretend indiscipline when it comes to your own. I agree with that sentiment. If I can be great at working to build another man's empire, I should be AWESOME at building my own. And I shouldn't need a slavemaster to motivate me to put in the work required to build my own dream.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwGIorcl9y3Gq7-PzY4znMaQtOfAtlszE4X16nJO6_5Gw92eoTS9qVsEDzNYPdYWSsnz0lLzAn7RgZWRiP1ev_CDF_ErqJFIYpL5EhFciRGK5JwSNPIDCS1DI6eLN8km8wmFHeUrYSrA/s1600/regret.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwGIorcl9y3Gq7-PzY4znMaQtOfAtlszE4X16nJO6_5Gw92eoTS9qVsEDzNYPdYWSsnz0lLzAn7RgZWRiP1ev_CDF_ErqJFIYpL5EhFciRGK5JwSNPIDCS1DI6eLN8km8wmFHeUrYSrA/s200/regret.png" width="200" /></a><br />
So I try. I defy sleep sometimes. (Other times, sleep defies me). I forego preparing a proper meal and just settle for quick cereal (I love cereal though). I read. I delve into the worlds of other writers and find out how they're doing, what they're working on, etc. I occasionally go out to get some semblance of a proper meal and socialisation. <br />
<br />
But. There are still days like today when no matter how many times I pick up the writing project and say, I'm going to do this .... I end the day thinking, well, I blew it ... again. I didn't do the things I set out to do at all. I had an awesome day of unparallelled productivity planned, and all I ended up doing was sleep ... watch something in between sleep ... some mild housecleaning ... wash clothes, cook something ... sleep some more. That was all the awesomeness my tired brain could manage today.<br />
<br />
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;">Failure days?</span></b></u><br />
I hate these kinds of days! They feel like failure days. I hate days when the tired is so much, and the will is so weak ... I just let Netflix take over the thinking for me. Or whatever. It makes me feel guilty. And weak. And miserable inside. And I feel worse for being able to write about how I'm feeling in a blog post, but not do the important writing for the important projects. *Sigh*. I posted this tweet tonight:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
State of mind: <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/needachange?src=hash"><s>#</s><b>needachange</b></a> SOON. <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/amwriting?src=hash"><s>#</s><b>amwriting</b></a> for REDEMPTION. <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/tired?src=hash"><s>#</s><b>tired</b></a> but TRYING. <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/burnoutisreal?src=hash"><s>#</s><b>burnoutisreal</b></a>. Somehow, in my head, it's <a class="twitter-hashtag pretty-link js-nav" data-query-source="hashtag_click" dir="ltr" href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/November?src=hash"><s>#</s><b>November</b></a> already. </blockquote>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNrmQSKQyN8HFmtG3mDwpH-f133dGI5YGTK-rfSe7KlG1paq8I0kUvzY5jo8fjmtgbMso-8qcWMVM87Z_mkWNeCnk7GRN5Z8FyH_zRP2fc-tUeE8tdBtsXoXaurD4TPFunDg15G9s1hU/s1600/sotired.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNrmQSKQyN8HFmtG3mDwpH-f133dGI5YGTK-rfSe7KlG1paq8I0kUvzY5jo8fjmtgbMso-8qcWMVM87Z_mkWNeCnk7GRN5Z8FyH_zRP2fc-tUeE8tdBtsXoXaurD4TPFunDg15G9s1hU/s200/sotired.png" width="200" /></a>This truly is my state of mind.<br />
1. I need a change soon. If not, monotony will be the death of me.<br />
2. I <b><i>AM</i></b> writing! It's my constant in life. No matter what is going on around me, my ability to write coherently has never left me. And my writing usually somehow goes directly to/from my heart. I value that and see it as a redemptive quality.<br />
3. I'm tired, but I'm trying. These days, this should be my motto. It's not just that I've been fighting flu and sinus issues for the last month ... there's a weariness these days that is so overwhelming ... I ward it off most days, but sometimes, like today, it just hits me full force and it's all I can do to raise my head and look over the edge of the bed. I am realising that burnout is real, because I'm now walking through serious physical, mental and emotional exhaustion. I was on fire for the first seven months of this year, and now? Oh gosh man! I feel like tiredness has set into my bones. I need to rest ... or something, but ... there is so much to do, and so little time to do it in! You don't make an impact by playing it safe. You don't get to do great things by working just a regular job with regular hours. Achievers push. I believe that you don't grow if you don't push yourself past your own limits, so I try to push myself forward, because how else do you expand your horizons? It takes a toll sometimes, but most years, I can look back and honestly say going out of my comfort zone and taking on new responsibility was worth it. If I don't drown under this new workload, 2016 will be one of my best years yet. I'm working for it.<br />
4. I'm not superstitious. I don't believe in any of the spooky stuff either. But I have this great feeling about November. I don't know why, and I can't sensibly explain it, but it's going to be an exceptional month. And in my head, I keep thinking I'm in November already. My brain just keeps skipping past September. Dunno why. Go figure.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><u><b>Nothing is wasted</b></u></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh28e5gFl6QF8uixaAnKJevn-QdvJ8ndUxA7aPozhRjwDIgpZ969m4IE2tUM22wu7pi1HGaJn9lfQwxJOgZpLBXwGQnZIhYzZLVYfUMysMZ-774rczmq43uIouTRWW309kgtBUfXxSarzI/s1600/youcan.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh28e5gFl6QF8uixaAnKJevn-QdvJ8ndUxA7aPozhRjwDIgpZ969m4IE2tUM22wu7pi1HGaJn9lfQwxJOgZpLBXwGQnZIhYzZLVYfUMysMZ-774rczmq43uIouTRWW309kgtBUfXxSarzI/s200/youcan.png" width="200" /></a>Part two of this rant is that I may have to redefine what I call wasted time. Is the time really wasted if I spent it getting some well-needed R&R? At what point did I accept the notion that any time spent doing anything outside of my (perhaps foolishly narrow) definition of productivity is wasted? And why do I feel guilty for giving myself a break for a day? Funny; if I had spent the day reading a novel, I wouldn't feel as terrible. Because it's somehow more sophisticated to say I spent the day reading a literal, physical book, than it is to surf the net (even if most of it is reading long-form opinion in the Guardian and NY Times), or binge-watch anything on Netflix or YouTube. Isn't that just pretentious? Where did I pick up that notion? And is it correct?<br />
<br />
And on another level, is anything ever truly 'wasted'? There's a song by Elevation Worship that says 'nothing is wasted'. I'm starting to think maybe they're right, and I should learn to relax and just let life be.<br />
<br />
If I did that, today would not be seen as a wasted day. And I wouldn't feel worthless for it. I would realise that after a month of fighting off the flu and not taking any real rest, and on the tail-end of juggling four major side projects in addition to my mainstay job, maybe a day like today is my brain and body's way of reminding me that I am not a robot, and I must occasionally pause and relax.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-jiBbBlUvOymZqlYW-AZZIgbEd2-C17oAnb4ss308g5V5tSN247nTzPxJ9LyMWpi8Fre8sVblCGzDRoVX_O8Hu_BDS7MuLArEL3Yh2qrbXZfj42-fm112JhobheW-aI-d4T4GfZBwrNA/s1600/killinit.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-jiBbBlUvOymZqlYW-AZZIgbEd2-C17oAnb4ss308g5V5tSN247nTzPxJ9LyMWpi8Fre8sVblCGzDRoVX_O8Hu_BDS7MuLArEL3Yh2qrbXZfj42-fm112JhobheW-aI-d4T4GfZBwrNA/s200/killinit.png" width="200" /></a>I want to reach a place where I master the pace of life ... where I'm always building and making progress, but doing it in such a healthy way, my brain and body don't feel the need to just shut down on me. I'm working towards that, too. Maybe I'll get it by November. Or maybe I'll figure that out by the time I'm 60.<br />
<br />
Either way, what I'm clear on is that I'm making progress in some sort of way. And even though right now, I still have days like this - where I feel less accomplished than I'd like, in the end, when I look back on the big picture, there's something happening. And that something is good, beneficial, and very, very promising.<br />
<br />ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-37534521532203016962016-09-02T06:19:00.002-07:002016-09-02T06:24:18.300-07:00I woke this morning with a clear head ... and Nora Ephron came to mindI woke this morning with a clear head. After walking around for the last three days trying to balance what felt like a swollen, oversized, inflamed bowling ball on my neck and shoulders. The pain has waned, the mucus has subsided, and I woke this morning with a clear, normal-sized head.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiczXl3P2TYsxs-UrF5zmXLhuroia5tyylMu8IZDJzBiVqGOWMAKQcw225kNGIdphNlP2Y1tr4-1LPTwntq6A4MMaR9YSNpxpU3E_c-dh0r0famQvmIpLjNtQYAcRtbw8M7I5xy76paHaA/s1600/nora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiczXl3P2TYsxs-UrF5zmXLhuroia5tyylMu8IZDJzBiVqGOWMAKQcw225kNGIdphNlP2Y1tr4-1LPTwntq6A4MMaR9YSNpxpU3E_c-dh0r0famQvmIpLjNtQYAcRtbw8M7I5xy76paHaA/s320/nora.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nora Ephron (1941-2012)<br />
Author, journalist, essayist, playwright, <br />
screenwriter, novelist, director, producer, <br />
blogger ... and one of my biggest <br />
inspirations :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was going to read my Bible. I took up the laptop to find Matthew 5 and ended up on Pinterest reading Nora Ephron quotes – a turn of events for which I'm sure she would have had several witty remarks. She would probably have worked it into a plot for a famous romantic comedy, adorning it with brilliant lines that would have made the movie a quotable hit.<br />
<br />
Ah, Nora! How she lived! I think of her, and the word fabulous comes to mind. I enjoy her books, movies and essays. So delightfully humorous, and relatable. I loved 'You've Got Mail', 'Sleepless In Seattle' and 'When Harry Met Sally' long before I knew who had written them. In fact, I loved Nora precisely because she wrote these movies. Then I read 'I Remember Nothing' and 'I Feel Bad About My Neck', and I just loved her wit and blunt honesty. It's always refreshing to hear truth without the side serving of bitterness or hate. Some people tell you the truth, but it is so tainted by sadness, it just sounds and looks ugly. Then others tell you the same truths, and there is such a beautiful acceptance - a coming to terms with it - that makes the impartation gentler, more meaningful and ... wholesome.<br />
<br />
Nora Ephron had that vibe. She said things that were true, but cushioned them in humour, or with a simple grace that made them more like gentle advisories than rude slaps. And she laughed a lot - at herself and others. Everybody who knew her said so. She mastered the art of taking life just seriously enough to get the lessons without allowing them to permanently harden you. I think I would have liked her if I'd gotten to meet her in the flesh. But I am happy that I got to meet her, to some degree, through her work, and her words.<br />
<br />
There's a fundamental presumptuousness which accompanies writing about people we've never met as if we knew them. But there is also something wonderful about getting to meet a person through their work and words. It gives you insight you probably would have missed if you knew them in the flesh, because writing often reveals the depths of a woman/man.<br />
<br />
That's why I love the literary arts. It introduces you – intimately – to perfect strangers, and seduces you into connections with people and places unknown. Through their words, you get glimpses of their minds ... and sometimes, what you see is so wonderful – so powerful and dynamic and brilliant – that you fall irrevocably in love. I honestly don't know how anyone goes through life without succumbing to the charm and magic of reading ... and writing.<br />
<br />
I like the way Nora Ephron puts it:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="quoteText">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">“Reading is everything. Reading makes me feel like
I've accomplished something, learned something, become a better person.
Reading makes me smarter. Reading gives me something to talk about
later on. Reading is the unbelievably healthy way my attention deficit
disorder medicates itself. Reading is escape, and the opposite of
escape; it's a way to make contact with reality after a day of making
things up, and it's a way of making contact with someone else's
imagination after a day that's all too real. Reading is grist. Reading
is bliss.”
</span></b></span></div>
</blockquote>
How true! How very, very true.<br />
<br />
ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-62548214197293667552016-08-06T20:37:00.000-07:002016-08-06T20:55:11.444-07:00Life is not a straight lineOne of my friends has decided to come out. As a writer, that is. She's made some bold steps in her life recently: quit the nine-to-five, (stable) job; set up her own website; started her own literary movement online; decided to earn a living on an entirely freelance basis ... . She has decided to waste no more time building another man's empire, and is now concentrating her efforts on building her own legacy. I admire the courage it takes to walk away from the traditional model of security that we were brainwashed into, and pursue a heartfelt - though as yet unrealised - passion. I haven't as yet surrendered to the need I frequently feel for a similarly great disruption in my life.<br />
<br />
Earlier this year, a young man with whom I am acquainted just got up and left his nine-to-five, and flew to New York to basically camp out in a studio to produce the album that was burning a hole into his heart - and head. He came back to Jamaica remarkably thinner - and yet somehow infused with a freshness of purpose and depth of character that left me feeling a need to re-meet him on these new terms. The energy he exuded was so altered - so transformed by his experience of tuning in to and pursuing the thing he felt he was born to accomplish - that I realised I would have to discard some of my previous beliefs about him and learn him all over again.<br />
<br />
I ran into him on the street after his return, and we just stood there talking about how his brief experience with less-than-ideal circumstances had shifted his perspective, cemented his conviction and determination, and birthed a solidness in his personality that I had not previously perceived. I marveled at it, and wondered if it was because action - small though it may seem - had replaced what was once just a whole lot of raw desire, angst and ennui. I mused that when people start to take actions based on their personal convictions, and from an attempt to be as true to their authentic selves as possible, instead of just following the dictates of tradition, they tend to have a certain <i>je ne sais quoi</i> - a certain something - a resolute stolidness - about them that is often missing from those who never make the bold move or strike out on the road less traveled.<br />
<br />
Widened experience widens horizons and perspectives. It grows people up and teaches them patience, discipline, maturity and persistence. I keep meeting it in friends from high school and college. The ones who were full of longing and have done something in the direction of those dreams are now full of a certain wiseness ... the best ones exude a calm understanding of placement, timing, persistence, and the unpredictability of life. You talk to them, and beneath the sentences runs a current of sagacity. Life has taught them something, and they have been gracious in accepting the lessons.<br />
<br />
Then there are the ones who are clearly disappointed and disoriented. And have allowed it to hollow out their hearts (and faces), and chisel their cheekbones into hardened bitterness. Their eyes are shifty. They laugh and self-deprecate. While they are talking, they glance at you to see how you are responding, and if you are reading the emptiness or uncertainty behind their words - you can sense their fear that you will detect the facade and call them out on it. Or worse, call someone else's attention to it.<br />
<br />
I'm not judging. I think on any given day, I can be a mix of the two. There are days when the courage and the calm comes and floods my soul with an ethereal peace. Then there are days when my eyes would rather remain transfixed to the pavement, instead of telling old friends harsh truths. On those days, escape, abandonment and bridge-burning seem desirable. It can be so easy to flee ...<br />
<br />
... which makes me wonder at the courage it sometimes takes to stay. It must take strength, I think, to remain in a place that reeks stagnation, depression and death. For whatever reason, there are persons who will never take any radical step in any direction. They will never launch out into the deep. They will learn to tiptoe through life, live with their discomfort - sometimes a sacrifice for others - and train themselves to draw on a reserve of ... something ... to get through redundantly unfulfilling days.<br />
<br />
I think it shows courage in a different way. Doesn't it probably take more out of a person to remain discomfitted? It takes a certain gigantic cowardice, yes, but that actually requires enormous amounts of energy, time, and life.<br />
<br />
What I've realised is, most of us never listen to our guts beyond hunger pangs. We tend to hold back, stay in the stream of conventional normalcy, and float with everybody else to that place of mediocre malcontent that most nine-to-fivers hit by the time they greet the big 4-0. And then they grieve the life they did not live because they never worked up the courage to kick the habit of mundane comforts. The gargantuan price we pay for sameness only seems deceptively small.<br />
<br />
That's why these friends who have decided to step away from the path mapped out for them by society have earned my admiration, and given me much to ponder. They have decided to live driven lives. Is that much different from my somewhat spur-of-the-moment trip to Mexico earlier this year? What was I looking for in Mexico that I couldn't find in Jamaica? What did I acquire in Mexico that has left me feeling like my days in Jamaica are fast approaching an expiry date? Food for personal thought.<br />
<br />
The point I wanted to make though, was that this friend who has decided to hone and offer to the world her writing voice, did a blog post in which she said she was, once again, starting over. I shook my head at that. Because life is NOT a straight line. And the impression I got was that she kept starting over with hopes of somehow one day achieving a straight-line history. She wants to look back and see a perfect trajectory from one direction. I used to think like that too. I used to announce every blog post after prolonged absences with a new determination to 'begin again' and 'get it right this time'. Then one day I realised I never got it wrong. Who defines what my blogging experience ought to be? Where did I - did we - pick up the notion that we had to live our lives in a straight line - in this perfect trajectory from Point A to Point B to Point C? What sold us that lie? And why did we buy it so easily? Why are we only now just realising the need to challenge this? These questions sometimes rob me of sleep.<br />
<br />
Life is a crooked line. Pun intended. It's not even a line sometimes. There are gaps, and stops and so many curves. My friend keeps starting over, instead of building on what she did before ... because she thinks that not carrying through what she had started in a particular way somehow invalidates the effort. I grieve for that belief, and for the societal institutions that popularise and propagandise it. I realise that by not starting a new blog everytime I had a hiccup in my writing frequency, I established a body of writings that bear testament to my continuous efforts to get my thoughts out in some coherent verbal form. It gives me eight years of work to look back over. And to build on. It proves that my hiccups were conquered, and gives me a base to work from ... a history that is not a cute black point extended in one direction over large stretches of time. It's a mess of writings and words that tell a very human, mixed up story that gives glimpses into the growth of a mind.<br />
<br />
I salute my friends for taking their leaps of faith. But I want to tell them to forget the straight-line approach. It never worked for Bell. That's why he stuck with the curve. I want to tell them to do him one better and go for squiggles and mushes and messes. I want to tell them to celebrate the crookedness of their paths, and I want them to realise that all of that mess of scrawling and bawling behind them led them here - to the moment when they stepped into their very own with new-found self-respect, self-reliance and self-determination.<br />
<br />
And I want them to tell others who they meet along the way to not torture themselves for the absence of a straight line behind them ... and to make their path forward as uniquely artistic and authentic as possible - hiccups, ennui, angst and all.<br />
<br />
Selah.<br />
<br />
<br />ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-3958404582754436892016-07-28T02:03:00.000-07:002016-08-12T05:11:42.893-07:00I won something ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHUbBN7QE_5x-bejqIjoEAemwOC9O3rojrVs9edUvTu68xA7ZeU7V4kGUcKySAqn7CQbpK7E55LtfXV5-0eBSiLISI8Ha625LB9H4DEhVg_OlERa4V109IxE6piliXDArXzid5FjrgsI/s1600/DSCN0635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHUbBN7QE_5x-bejqIjoEAemwOC9O3rojrVs9edUvTu68xA7ZeU7V4kGUcKySAqn7CQbpK7E55LtfXV5-0eBSiLISI8Ha625LB9H4DEhVg_OlERa4V109IxE6piliXDArXzid5FjrgsI/s200/DSCN0635.jpg" width="200" /></a>On Tuesday, July 26, I attended the awards ceremony for the Jamaica Creative Writing Competition, hosted by the Jamaica Cultural Development Commission (JCDC). I was expecting to get one medal for one poem. I walked away with three medals and the award for best overall writer.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqzjQWH3r2k0Oa1yUcAHxK1IDytwZLBOJRuad9bG2Ys-mEqwziChtFWxw3zSscmw1QqXcfEO_5V-fFsuaBQ53WUBrsuFvyMiOpvQE5k8OLQxBRB5y7eUplzOkgVq8R9a2Clf0CWhnwRpE/s1600/DSCN0639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqzjQWH3r2k0Oa1yUcAHxK1IDytwZLBOJRuad9bG2Ys-mEqwziChtFWxw3zSscmw1QqXcfEO_5V-fFsuaBQ53WUBrsuFvyMiOpvQE5k8OLQxBRB5y7eUplzOkgVq8R9a2Clf0CWhnwRpE/s320/DSCN0639.jpg" width="127" /></a>It was a very pleasant surprise, and while I did not tarry long to revel in the moment, when I got home after a very long night spent elsewhere, I had to step back, look at my loot ... and laugh. <br />
<br />
The win represented a moment of classic irony. Of all the competitions I had entered this year, the JCDC writing competition was one of the ones I had the least expectations of. I had invested much higher hopes into other things - all of which proved disappointing.<br />
<br />
Added to that, I honestly had not expected my poems to do so well. I had expected the short story to medal (it didn't), but I hadn't given much thought to my poems doing particularly well ... . So I stood there laughing and shaking my head at my obvious miscalculations. I stood there looking at and learning from the blessing of the unexpected.<br />
<br />
It felt like a reminder from life to just cast your bread and sow your seed ... and leave them there, because you really don't know which one is going to prosper, or if they will all do equally well.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="text Eccl-11-1" id="en-KJV-17515"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Ecclesiastes 11:1-6, The Bible</span></span><br />
<span class="text Eccl-11-1" id="en-KJV-17515" style="font-size: xx-small;">Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.</span> <br />
<span class="text Eccl-11-2" id="en-KJV-17516" style="font-size: xx-small;"><sup class="versenum">2 </sup>Give a portion to seven, and also to eight; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the earth.</span><br />
<span class="text Eccl-11-3" id="en-KJV-17517" style="font-size: xx-small;"><sup class="versenum">3 </sup>If
the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the earth: and
if the tree fall toward the south, or toward the north, in the place
where the tree falleth, there it shall be.</span><br />
<span class="text Eccl-11-4" id="en-KJV-17518" style="font-size: xx-small;"><sup class="versenum">4 </sup>He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap.</span><br />
<span class="text Eccl-11-5" id="en-KJV-17519" style="font-size: xx-small;"><sup class="versenum">5 </sup>As
thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do
grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the
works of God who maketh all.</span><br />
<span class="text Eccl-11-6" id="en-KJV-17520" style="font-size: xx-small;"><sup class="versenum">6 </sup>In
the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand:
for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or
whether they both shall be alike good.</span></blockquote>
True words. Very true words. My prayer that night was one of simple gratitude. I gave thanks for encouragement at the best of times, from the most unexpected places.<br />
<br />
Selah.<br />
<br />
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<br />ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-66703405526882965162016-06-12T20:55:00.000-07:002016-06-12T20:55:01.462-07:00The heat is on!When I was in Mexico experiencing teeth-chattering cold, I made a vow never to complain about the heat in Jamaica again.<br />
<br />
Know what? This heat deserves a complaint. It's so hot in the nights! Hot days don't bother me. The sun comes out and does its thing in the days. That's expected. What I do not expect is for the nights to be so humid and miserable.<br />
<br />
It's not cool at all. Pun intended. I'm downing glasses of water like a camel in the Sahara. I might soon be sleeping on a bed of ice. And these headaches. This pounding in the side of my head .... a result of the heat, I'm told. Not cool either.<br />
<br />
One day, I'll be so well-monied and travelled that I will spend my summers in cooler climates and winters in warm places. This heat is motivation to work toward that dream with renewed urgency. I am NOT about this hellish nightmarish heat.<br />
<br />
I always tell people I prefer to be too cold than too hot. In cold, you can always add another layer to get warm, but when it's unbearably hot, the only thing left to take off is your skin! It's truly miserable.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I'm not complaining. Not really. Just a candid observation of sorts. :)ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-44522699634264499102016-04-26T06:38:00.000-07:002016-04-26T06:45:23.439-07:00Some Tuesday motivation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8VpM4UpoPWuigFIAXUpL9K8_j-Ffe6GBsqZePPMGZz0d1dpKDzIaPtahIo83-2TfnzUS6Ffp2Qm4yeI7hohmnBmsO-by4vhChPdrhDnxZwVCd9xNU88_NnRW4Ln5QxUO5nYSZfrNWaw/s1600/bepositiv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8VpM4UpoPWuigFIAXUpL9K8_j-Ffe6GBsqZePPMGZz0d1dpKDzIaPtahIo83-2TfnzUS6Ffp2Qm4yeI7hohmnBmsO-by4vhChPdrhDnxZwVCd9xNU88_NnRW4Ln5QxUO5nYSZfrNWaw/s400/bepositiv.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#GoGetIt #LiveYourDeam #NeverGiveUp #LiveUp #LookUp</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
This is the thing I remind myself (well, one of many things I try to remind myself) when life gets a little rough. There are days when I forget. There are days when I forget to be positive and think positive and act positive. Sometimes I forget that this moment is really just a moment and that it does not and will not define all the other moments to come ... . So here's a reminder for those of us who forget: treat a moment like nothing more and nothing less than a moment. And if you forget ... ah well, tomorrow, we try again ... :)</div>
ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-78567125752396913932016-04-23T08:03:00.000-07:002016-04-24T04:37:38.250-07:00I miss #Mexico ... <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ogS9kUPfow1WoVrtNoxcNhbzrVAMOxlhLu34af5Y-tPveFxu8cqvlF2guu9l94SnARRC9nf2VB-l04ieqKsFhg5teDW8UT5obVEO1Xx4bYdXB__FS5fXmxSSvDV4B1pN4xPDQqnEeAY/s1600/DSCN0236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ogS9kUPfow1WoVrtNoxcNhbzrVAMOxlhLu34af5Y-tPveFxu8cqvlF2guu9l94SnARRC9nf2VB-l04ieqKsFhg5teDW8UT5obVEO1Xx4bYdXB__FS5fXmxSSvDV4B1pN4xPDQqnEeAY/s200/DSCN0236.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOvclPub5hPWS_OG-6lUKTgLHKB95EW-cbbT0739ez_rwwPeUmQDH9dvJQwGaCqikP8-0EgvqZZT9T6pgrbncxAWeiNae3_Uecl4UTjPvyMAhU70YW10UEvJx4CjSvKzdjY_WP1-t_FE/s1600/DSCN0175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOvclPub5hPWS_OG-6lUKTgLHKB95EW-cbbT0739ez_rwwPeUmQDH9dvJQwGaCqikP8-0EgvqZZT9T6pgrbncxAWeiNae3_Uecl4UTjPvyMAhU70YW10UEvJx4CjSvKzdjY_WP1-t_FE/s200/DSCN0175.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAXjZw_pQalGuWry2hGNl7FoENqLhX7T2WVOmbRlyTVlf9dvz9GTdaPVPNjc2sVCPiUqNknQK0S4TV-CgxWoUap59nLkq6M8KqJJQLOjp7MLXvX5mGbS-86scO3GLFD_ymd5DHTppaME/s1600/DSCN0172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAXjZw_pQalGuWry2hGNl7FoENqLhX7T2WVOmbRlyTVlf9dvz9GTdaPVPNjc2sVCPiUqNknQK0S4TV-CgxWoUap59nLkq6M8KqJJQLOjp7MLXvX5mGbS-86scO3GLFD_ymd5DHTppaME/s200/DSCN0172.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<br />
Hello, Jamaica. <i>Hasta luego, Mexico</i>!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCNc2STq0dne01BxdwlzgPflZsPRLnd_5u4dhvmf4tqvQcBinsDYcmu84RCUZuxe2mGB5KsNXiPsypHfaA6FDhNYy6-F09Xa9V7kyw0AJd6ef8z4eu-b_UEr_rSLizu_dc-6siiisA1WU/s1600/DSCN0241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCNc2STq0dne01BxdwlzgPflZsPRLnd_5u4dhvmf4tqvQcBinsDYcmu84RCUZuxe2mGB5KsNXiPsypHfaA6FDhNYy6-F09Xa9V7kyw0AJd6ef8z4eu-b_UEr_rSLizu_dc-6siiisA1WU/s200/DSCN0241.JPG" width="200" /></a>It's been two weeks since I've been back, and I'll tell you what: the magic hasn't worn off yet. I think of Mexico and smile. It's a happy smile, but it's a secret smile. It's a secret smile full of special things only people who went to <i>my</i> Mexico, and met <i>my</i> Mexico people, and did Mexico things with <i>my</i> Mexico people would understand. It's an inside joke only the ones who shared this experience with me would know. You had to be there to get that it was fun, and different, and special, and definitely worth smiling about.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFbAAU_LxdY0BZq0fSjgqKyD7BbtTY7AdQ_DKyMxogvqdMRBPK5n7o2Kp0yZwwCdqCXZ08ufETyP1GO3RFsjoNbK7g_VtQcUT2ggeu61Vo7h6PM0vdbjogfDgWW6yUiqJR5fgdiC5-_M/s1600/DSCN0201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFbAAU_LxdY0BZq0fSjgqKyD7BbtTY7AdQ_DKyMxogvqdMRBPK5n7o2Kp0yZwwCdqCXZ08ufETyP1GO3RFsjoNbK7g_VtQcUT2ggeu61Vo7h6PM0vdbjogfDgWW6yUiqJR5fgdiC5-_M/s200/DSCN0201.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
It's an accomplished smile, too. It's a 'yes! I did it!'
smile. It's a smile that reminds me of the friends I made, the people I met, the experiences I had, the ways I changed ... . It feels good to be home, but it feels good precisely because I
was away. Going away makes coming home better in some ways; worse in others; different in every way. I can't wait to go away again! :)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4TK6cxCotT_9GYNTHRlyDgMutmX8_hEC47_iRmji4USrSG2P2Zq8_-w7E1MS7tA5OlH5yymHxrU89A-NRjA9KwOMrW0_UqSyNfQqHfnrP8VpcHBaGMJbaa-EorhWr2Iv3G98PSWXTdI/s1600/DSCN0222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4TK6cxCotT_9GYNTHRlyDgMutmX8_hEC47_iRmji4USrSG2P2Zq8_-w7E1MS7tA5OlH5yymHxrU89A-NRjA9KwOMrW0_UqSyNfQqHfnrP8VpcHBaGMJbaa-EorhWr2Iv3G98PSWXTdI/s200/DSCN0222.JPG" width="200" /></a>Ah, Mexico. Mexico made 'foreign' feel like home. My experiences there make me feel 'foreign' now, at home! I'm still regaining my bearings. I still feel a little jetlagged - but in soul, not in body.<br />
<br />
I have internal jetlag. Physically, I'm fine. But in my mind? In my emotions? In the depths of me? I'm still travelling. It's weird. But it's true. I don't even know if this is the kind of thing I want to be blogging about yet, because I'm still figuring out exactly what it means and how I feel about it. But maybe this writing exercise will help.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLOGrOcTYCPoCe7kTJnYf0IP2AbZvMjW1M_4ZeEd_bJ96Llp-UDppkey41NPRBsxfGRKbot4XxoKgn4_s87MrKvAOxFvKdCkE8q2hjaRhaL-ykrVRCxryzaCGN7bWPzMPkg4yq6p4oNQ/s1600/DSCN0269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLOGrOcTYCPoCe7kTJnYf0IP2AbZvMjW1M_4ZeEd_bJ96Llp-UDppkey41NPRBsxfGRKbot4XxoKgn4_s87MrKvAOxFvKdCkE8q2hjaRhaL-ykrVRCxryzaCGN7bWPzMPkg4yq6p4oNQ/s200/DSCN0269.JPG" width="200" /></a>I've always heard people say that travel does things to you: widens your horizons, broadens your perspective, facilitates self-knowledge, self-reliance, strength, etc., etc. Know what? It's true. Travel does all of the above. And it's awesome.<br />
<br />
But somebody should have warned me that once you've been to the mountaintop, anything less will forever seem ... pedestrian. Once you've lived even a little of your dream in a truly fullsome way, that taste - that way of being - becomes addictive. Nothing else compares. Nothing else matters. So, forget <a href="http://ruthibelle.blogspot.com/2016/03/im-so-cold-im-so-cold-im-so-cold.html">the cold</a>, the <a href="http://ruthibelle.blogspot.com/2016/03/tengo-hambre.html">food woes</a>, the <a href="http://ruthibelle.blogspot.com/2016/03/bus-ing-truth.html">bumpy bus-rides.</a> My mind has graced them with amnesia. Now, all I remember is being at the airport, boarding the plane, going ... being gone. Being there. Meeting that person. Living in that place. Trying that new dish ... the feeling of being in a foreign place ... that feeling of living in the beauty of the moment ... and completely loving it.<br />
<br />
It's ALL I remember. That feeling. That way of being. And I'm grateful, and hopeful, a little sad, a lot lost, but mostly ... grateful. <i>Hasta luego, Mexico</i>. I'll see you again. Hopefully soon.<br />
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<br />ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-90279235763875458332016-04-02T11:05:00.000-07:002016-04-23T16:03:02.358-07:00There are no do-overs ... live it UP!<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5VB75Ybe9wLE2thEfnab9DsY1s7-PjVlxGQeU71JNjibj3v4HFvDZhxyVOk9m6bVIoh2_Y9idczUInmXc7-M18WNDzgBfVq5aL8WqtcYcBXsnewz7FclczrUqEmiFQey0udvCwk1RuA/s1600/DSCN0131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5VB75Ybe9wLE2thEfnab9DsY1s7-PjVlxGQeU71JNjibj3v4HFvDZhxyVOk9m6bVIoh2_Y9idczUInmXc7-M18WNDzgBfVq5aL8WqtcYcBXsnewz7FclczrUqEmiFQey0udvCwk1RuA/s320/DSCN0131.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scenes from the #Guachimontones in Mexico. <br />
Photos mine.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana";">This is not for you.</span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana";">This is for me.</span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana";">For all of the wonderful things I will be.</span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana";">For all of the places and people I’ll see.</span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana";">I </span><span style="font-family: "verdana";">want to be ready.</span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana";">This is for me.</span></span></span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana";"><span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal;">Have you ever felt like you’ve been dreaming for so long, you’ve forgotten what real life felt like?</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana";">
Like you’ve forgotten how to breathe and feel and be in present tense?
There have been days when all I lived on was future. “Will be” became
the propeller for my life: a seemingly endless reach into a vast
unknown, a permanent stretch into next. That
was me. That was my life. I lived looking for consecutive
exits, skipping rapidly through chapters, like a screen director on
a boring set, always screaming “Next!"</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana";">Then I did a somewhat crazy thing. I planned a trip, by myself, and left my country for a strange land for five weeks. Next time, it WILL be for longer - much longer ... hehehe.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQoqtD0rqwuxMIfHTvz2dimGiaanbhvao58OoaBbd1evjbq23etWcuPSGMMjqpf_ZJWs95vfLStkuHmplKJYRrWqcjoDUkA9ZAHX_-NndzdmKNNHFbhiJ8bsJ7iK0h0bue8gxqX-IkGWc/s1600/DSCN0136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQoqtD0rqwuxMIfHTvz2dimGiaanbhvao58OoaBbd1evjbq23etWcuPSGMMjqpf_ZJWs95vfLStkuHmplKJYRrWqcjoDUkA9ZAHX_-NndzdmKNNHFbhiJ8bsJ7iK0h0bue8gxqX-IkGWc/s320/DSCN0136.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scenes from the #Guachimontones in Mexico. <br />
Photos mine.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is what I'm thinking with roughly three days left in Mexico. I'm three days away from returning to my beloved Jamaica. I kinda don't wanna leave my beloved Mexico. I feel like I have stuff to say to Mexico, and Mexico has stuff to say to me that we haven't said yet. I feel like the conversation is incomplete. Like I ought to stay longer and hear - in its fullness - what Mexico has to say to me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Does that even make sense? I don't know. But I feel like going home is a break in transmission that I'm not fully ready for. I could stay here a little longer. Just a little. Just to listen. Just to hear Mexico talking to me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What's done is done, though - and that return trip is booked! That's life. There are no do-overs. I did my Mexico trip the way I did it, and that's that.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Would I have done anything differently? Not by much. I mean, I would have travelled with seasoning to spice up some dishes; I would have let the bank know I was going to be in a foreign country for over a month, and spared myself a day on the phone trying to verify that I'm really me. But that's small stuff. The big stuff - the really consequential things - I wouldn't change any of that. It was a great trip. I liked it the way it was. And I want to remember it like that.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjod5FWvPtwYAdK2ovfiZHrULB7qMyTI8-zEuBzTXuu7UWHeNk_8R4N9Xzj9qEM8o1qu06Qica_oi3D5j3BaFdxDTbqkWhyZuN97niLxXLCUMntJVZPpqZFOjR0li5iKRbi3Zw9_tWiJnY/s1600/DSCN0140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjod5FWvPtwYAdK2ovfiZHrULB7qMyTI8-zEuBzTXuu7UWHeNk_8R4N9Xzj9qEM8o1qu06Qica_oi3D5j3BaFdxDTbqkWhyZuN97niLxXLCUMntJVZPpqZFOjR0li5iKRbi3Zw9_tWiJnY/s320/DSCN0140.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scenes from the #Guachimontones in Mexico. <br />
Photos mine.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm getting nostalgic and I haven't even left here yet. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm kinda a sap. I like to think in philosophies. With some depth. (At least, I think so, lol). What I'm saying is: You
only get this moment once. So breathe in, take it all in, and forget to
feel afraid. Forget your reservations. They can wait till tomorrow. Or
never. Don't let them in. Live! Live it UP!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">All you have is now. So live. Live it UP! In Mexico, I definitely lived UP! And I liked it. That's the thing I'll take back with me to Jamaica - that ability to move past difficulties and differences and look up, and live UP. All you have is now, friends. And until you die, NOTHING can kill you. So LIVE! Live UP!</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQf1dm6l52NxA7NYi2NCuwC8EKTX5aV3mUTmwRzLaUKzL0ACAO13OGqG54HEF3-vukxGUiFtjCrjEYfbrS25sL5TwwdIuEESCVrj8vW-aGCiECBCS4UoI9smLGKjBCyP068_cny8_953Y/s1600/DSCN0155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQf1dm6l52NxA7NYi2NCuwC8EKTX5aV3mUTmwRzLaUKzL0ACAO13OGqG54HEF3-vukxGUiFtjCrjEYfbrS25sL5TwwdIuEESCVrj8vW-aGCiECBCS4UoI9smLGKjBCyP068_cny8_953Y/s400/DSCN0155.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scenes from the #Guachimontones in Mexico. <br />
If I'd let fear reign, I would have never seen this first-hand.<br />
Photos mine.</td></tr>
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ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-70056982260089763932016-03-30T08:35:00.000-07:002016-04-23T11:00:43.104-07:00Random thoughts in #Mexico1. So the days are winding down quickly. And I'm starting to get a little homesick. Or home-food-sick. Seriously. What I'd give for some curried goat. Or manish water. What I'd spend to get some stew chicken with yam and banana and fried dumplings ... *sigh*. And ackee and saltfish? Or a beef patty? I miss Jamaican food with a vengeance. This might sound bad, but it's the thing I miss the most: the look, smell and taste of food from Yard. I miss it. I want it. I need it. Bad bad bad.<br />
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I didn't even know Jamaican cuisine was so essential to my makeup. But listen, it's in my DNA. I need Jamaican food. I just need to at least SMELL some Jamaican food flavours really soon. Lest I die. Serious. The craving is real. FedEx me some flour dumplings, please. I'd be eternally grateful.<br />
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2. I have passed the test of a true Yardie: I have said 'yeah man' and didn't realise I was saying it. It's funny. You don't realise how much you say things like that till you have a chorus of foreign echoes repeating every cliché Jamaican thing you say. Then you realise how many of those clichés are true. It's funny.<br />
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I never even realised I had a strong Jamaican accent until I was teaching someone to say a word, and they said the word with a Jamaican accent. I cracked up, because, well, one, it was just hilarious to hear them trying a Jamaican accent, and two, I was like: oh my goodness! <i>That's</i> what I sound like to you? Shocking.<br />
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3. I have fallen in love with this little family I'm staying with. I really admire their work ethic, and how close they are as a family. They have a routine that works, and a structure that pulls them together. Family is a seriously super-big deal in Mexico. Watching them interact on a daily basis: how the boys genuinely love their mom and dad, and show that? How they play together, and work together? It's nice to see, and it's great to be allowed to be part of that - even for a little bit.<br />
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4. Speaking of family, I will NEVER forget the chaps I spent the last five weeks with. They are just too awesome. Fun times, you guys! Like when Mark and I taught y'all to willy bounce and bogle and butterfly and sweep ... . Or when we went to La Coltrane cafe and then went to Riu to learn how to dance la Barchada? Or the karaoke bar? Or the informal lymes in the apartments? Fun times. Unforgettables all ... :)<br />
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5. I've found the perfect return-home travel song. It's Cold Play's 'Fix You'. I've loved this song for a long time. But for this trip, the song somehow reminds me of my mother:<br />
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<i>When you try your best and you don't succeed</i><br />
<i>When you get what you want, but not what you need</i><br />
<i>When you feel tired, but you can't sleep</i><br />
<i>Stuck in reverse ...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>When tears come streaming down your face</i><br />
<i>When you lose something you can't replace</i><br />
<i>When you love someone and it goes to waste</i><br />
<i>Cold it be worse?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Lights will guide you home</i><br />
<i>And ignite your bones</i><br />
<i>I will try ... to fix you.</i><br />
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No matter how broken I am, she is always willing to try to fix me ... .<br />
I love you, mommy.<br />
See you in a little bit.<br />
Hope I didn't do too much damage.<br />
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<br />ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199219112825484518.post-20061039522106912142016-03-27T09:54:00.000-07:002016-04-23T10:27:38.638-07:00Touristitude: what kind of tourist am I?<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Touristitud</b></span><b>e = TOURIST + ATTITUDE</b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was precious little to appetise me here ...</td></tr>
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So we went to a Mexican Chinese restaurant. Know what? I prefer Jamaican Chinese food by LEAPS and BOUNDS and GALAXIES and UNIVERSES. Yep. It was that bad. I didn't express the extent of my dislike while we were at the restaurant. That wouldn't have helped anything. I was polite, and explained that I like my cold food COLD and my hot food HOT - and that maybe because everything was room temperature and pretty much tepid, I wasn't feeling very 'appetised'. Plus, I added, I wasn't that hungry anyway (lies!!). I ate what I could stomach, and made polite conversation while my host had his meal. He noticed that I didn't touch half of the food on my plate, but was polite enough to 'understand'.<br />
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That's what you get for trying CHINESE food in MEXICO. (But Chinese food in Jamaica is so tasty though ... I thought it was like that everywhere.)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One plate of Chinese food that <br />
pretty much remained untouched ...</td></tr>
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Another time, we (not the same host, a different we) went to a restaurant where I ordered a soup called <i>posole blanco</i>. Truth? It tasted like chicken boiled in water with large grains of hominy corn. No seasoning. Not even salt. Now, all Jamaicans know that soup is not soup without some Maggi Soup-It-Up. Plus some thyme and scallion and all them herbs for flavour. So this new dish <i>sans seasoning</i> wasn't going down too well at all. Even with the addition of chopped onions and radish and a little chili pepper.<br />
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Know what I did? Same as above: I didn't express the extent of my dislike while we were at the restaurant. I was polite, and sipped my soup, ate my corn grains, truly enjoyed the chicken, and nodded vague approval, masking the sorrow my tastebuds were undergoing.<br />
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Only weeks later, after I'd tasted the red counterpart to that white wonder, called <i>posole rojo</i>, did I let slip how terrible I'd found that soup. We laughed about it, probably because I really LOVE <i>posole rojo</i>, and was chowing down with genuine gusto. It was like chalk to cheese. Posole rojo? Win. Posole blanco? Never again.<br />
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But I realised something about myself: I'm a polite tourist. You know those people who are perpetually nice and always find a way to 'make do'? I might be one of those.<br />
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It got me thinking, and I started paying closer attention to my reactions to things - as a tourist. Imagine my surprise when I realised I'm squealish. Not squeamish. Squealish. Like a person who creates a lot of excitement over every
little thing. So I go somewhere, and they say, "This is
Mexican dirt." My response will be (in a squeal), "Oooh. How lovely.
Mexican dirt!" Only long afterward will it occur to me that it's not
particularly exciting to see dirt. But such is the nature of my
touristitude. I make excitement for dirt.<br />
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I'm also screamish. I scream. Loud. Lots. Especially when excited. One night, we went to a karaoke bar. One of my friends went up and sang. It was sooo good - dude can sing! So I screamed. Loudly. Alot. One of the Mexican girls came over to me and said: "I buy you beer. You scream. How you do that?"<br />
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It took me a while to understand. But she was basically offering to buy me a beer, hoping I kept up the hysterics all night, and asking me how I made that shrill sound. I declined the beer. I explained that she was welcome to hang with us (we were the loud ones that night), but she didn't need to buy me anything. It's funny when I think about it because I don't really scream on demand. It just happens if and when I get excitable.<br />
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Turns out I screamed a lot more that night. This one girl went up and put on a real Pink performance - rockerchick moves and all. I screamed for that. Another of our brave friends went up and sang Sean Kingston's 'Beautiful Girl'. It was a fun (and funny) rendition. I screamed for that. But when a Mexican mama hit the stage and said, "First I was afraid, I was petrified", I got off my stool and screamed the house down! Then we all belted out that time-honoured karaoke masterpiece and danced to high heaven. Was fun.<br />
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So, I learnt that I'm a screamish tourist. Not even just a tourist. I'm a screamish person. I make loud sounds when I'm happy - screams, peals of laughter, cackles, shouts ... you get the gist. I guess I can sum it up by saying I have a polite, make-do, screamish, squealish touristitude.<br />
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<br />ruthibelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14478877906463303463noreply@blogger.com0