A tiny pinch of salt…

We were having sohour, I and my mother last night. she made us the greatest dish of foul ever (Fava beans)…it had nothing but a tbsp of zebda balady (home-made butter).

I took the first lo2ma…tasted goodbut something was missing…it felt like it needed more butter..but the thought clinched my arteries and there was no way I could add any more even if it is yummy.

My mom felt the same but she said: ” it needs a pinch of salt!”

She added the salt and voila…the dish zabat!

It really tasted like it needed butter when in fact it needed salt.

And yes, this is  a metaphoric post…and yes, our intense life issue that is missing something to sort out for us and suits our taste is in fact in need of a wake up call and a pinch of reality to really make good..then we could really enjoy.

More Huge heavy burdens might kill us…salts, on the other hand, may burn if sprinkled on wounds, yet guess what…IT HEALS!

Flashlights in my eyes

Thursday 30th June

Live music…Piano…caressing, pressing on, pounding and dancing on the keys with his brilliant fingers…the piano was black and grand…and the music revived my soul…took me away from life and up to the skies…I breathe…I, then, breathe…then suddenly and by an odd chance  I was exposed!!

I knew it was time…

 

 

 

Friday 1st July

Morning: Surrounded by many colleagues…watching a scene from a movie as part of the studying process: and there it was…music…a guitar that screamed on the sidewalk…a talent disclosed…and she joined him on the piano…he was humming the tunes…she was playing them…he was guiding her through the notes…and she was following his melody…and i had him in my head sitting their…on the black grand piano…humming tunes and guiding me into playing them…then we sing together…and he’d smile i get the tunes…and he’d smile when I harmonize…

a girl from the group looked at me…smiled…and said: does it remind you of something?

And I couldn’t hide the sting that evoked many soundless tears to flood from my eyes…quietly i left my seat to head to the bathroom…no one noticed me but my best friend…the bathroom was busy so i stood at the end of the hall…facing a tiny window overlooking the empty street and a dull tree…and i breathed him out…with many tears…hearing the couple from the movie still playing and still singing and hearing my heart still weeping but i choked on the sounds…my tears are silent…soundless crying…and i cried…cried…and cried…till the tears stopped on their own…I managed to wash my face…and faned it with my hands dry…and went back to my seat hoping my eyes are tearless…my pain over missing him at that very moment inserted a sharp pin in my heart…and it wouldn’t go away…

 

 

 

 

Friday 1st July

Afternoon: A boat in the nile…amazing breeze…kids that look older at that very moment…many years have passed…and i worry…I worry about them…

the boat turns…the smoke from my cigaret blows towards them…so i stop smoking…and i wish i could smoke…my mind was worrying over my kids…my heart was missing a beat…a certain beat i only know of…again…should i be grateful i had a long time-out from that beat? should i be grateful i have it now?

The Serenity of the emptiness was good while it lasted…

Here i am…slightly slightly aching again…living again…here…i…am…

 

 

 

 

Saturday 2nd July

Noon: the circle felt complete…I felt the belonging…the secure belonging…despite being conscious and putting myself out there in front of them…i know i have the guts many people don’t have…so i might as well enjoy it…act upon it…and trust them…

I trust them…I trust it…it…that ties me to that grass and to that breeze that blew through my hair…to that sky…to it…that spirit…

I feel WHOLE there…and M’s eyes always hug me…always…always…all i have to do is look at her…when i’m confused…in pain…scared…uncomfortable…M’s look hugs me…and i…I AM…I AM there…on that spot on that day at that time holding that book…I BE.

Noon: I know what I’m good at…I know what i want…will pursue it wholeheartedly! 

 

 

 

 

Saturday 2nd July

Night: The market was so so crowded i could barely hear myself thinking: why the heck have i come here to shop on a SATURDAY?!

Mom was smiling…we were walking inside and each had a kid in her hand…a kid who wanted to pull his/her hand away and walk freely…but we wouldn’t let them…too crowded…too damn crowded and we have nothing but those kids…we love…LOVE LOVE those kids and we LIVE for those kids…we wouldn’t let go…

I looked at her and said:

– “I need a break”

– “aren’t you having one already -ya nasaba”, and she laughed.

– “Not really…attempts only…i need to set my self free…”

– “entaleqy ya bent elmontaleqa “, she laughed again and nodded that she understands…then she made something with her hand -while still smiling- like flipping a burger on a grill.

– “No…Idon’t believe that would happen to me…other things may cause that…I harm no one…I am a good person”

– “yes you are”

we didn’t talk again…but as we reached home she gave me that piercing look that contained: take care of yourself…i’m scared over you…and i understand, all at the same time.

I looked away…didn’t say a word…end of story!

 

 

 

 

Sunday 3rd July

Very early in the morning: No need to be smart to get it! it’s obvious!

Still naive? Is it a bad thing after all?

Well…I feel every emotion and speak every word SO sincerely…and that is so rich and so valuable…no one and nothing would ever rob that away from me.

Rational I gotta be…and mature as I know I can.

Watermark: Breathless…restless…focused…trembling…strong…emotional…sincere…defensive and slightly slightly in pain…some say I’m vulnerable these days…well…I am a tough gal…so, all combined,,,,I’ll be ok.

 

رسالة الى تاج راسى

بحبك

مع انك مغيرنى …بس بحبك

مع انك طوق حوالين رقبتى

 ولجام حوالين دماغى

بس بحبك

بستخبى فيك

بدارى جنانى بيك

لاففنى بأمان وحفاظة

وبحبك

أحياناً بزهدك…

بزهدك علشان أشترى عيون الناس

قبول الناس

بزهدك

وبتحرر منك

علشان أتنفس

عشان أحس انى والسما واحد

عشان البحر يغرقنى فيه

عشان احس ان الهوا سكن شعرى وطار بيه

برجعلك بقلب

زى ما بزهدك بقلب

برجعلك واعيطلك تسامحنى

عشان بحبك

ده مش تخلى

ده مش نُكران

ده مش كُفر بيك

ده مش عصيان

ده…مش عارفة ده ايه

 

انا انسانة…زى ما بحبك

ساعات بقلب عليك

او…او بس هو الهوا…والمية…والسما

وشمس حامية ترجع فى عروقى الحياة

وعيون الناس اللى بتحضنى من غيرك

بتلهى بيهم عنك

بس برجعلك

علشان حبيتك

اوي… حبيت سترك…حدودك…

استكانة عفاريتى بيك…استكانة مُريحة أوووووى

بتحبنى وطاير جنبى؟

مسامحنى وحاسس بحبى؟

طب افتكرلى حاجة حلوة

يوم ما اتشتمت بيك

يوم ما اتهجرت ليك

يوم ما اتهمشت عشان جريت عليك

حياة ابوك ما تزعل منى

عشان ساعات بزدريك

افرح

افرح انى مش بنافقك

افرح انى بصدق بحبك…وقت ما بحبك

ووقت الخنقة بعفيك

من لومى وزلتى

ع الاقل انت فى حياتى امانة

مش بخونك ..انا كنت بستسمحك

بستسمحك انساك

واعيش من غيرك

بستسمحك وببعد من غير ما اسيبك 

شايف رجوعى بحب

كان الاجازة من غيرك كانت وحشة

كان من غيرك انا وحدى فى وَحشة

والله بحبك

اقبلنى كما انا

حريتى فى حبك غِنى

حريتى انى اخترتك..بقلبى وبعقلى وبايدى انا

الخيانة مش البُعاد

الخيانة ابقى لازقاك فيا وكرهاك

وانا حباك

تلاتة بالله العظيم حباك

وشرياك

وعايزاك

إيشاربى يا إيشاربى…

سامحنى لو غلطت …شِعرى كله فداك

Brief to a focus, to a raw truth

It was never easy for me to focus…through out my life, i would either see clearly or blur totally. Focus was never intended…was never a tool i used and was never one of my skills.

I was introduced to its importance a few years back and as part of my therapy. and boy, was it hard to learn to focus especially when it came to emotions…and since my emotions usually used to drive me rather than my rational thinking, it was an almost impossible thing to master.

But with time…With practice…With experiencing certain hardships that forced me to use that newly learned skill, i started to earn its bliss bit by bit, untill my mind took some of the control it had unconsciously let go of  in favor to my heart…i even learned how to intentionally lose focus when it caused a counter reaction…

And yesterday…i discovered a whole new meaning of focus.

Yesterday i was interviewed by a journalist where i had to tell the journalist a story of mine…a real life story.

Have you ever tried to tell a true painful story of yours to a complete stranger?? i mean a story that happened over the course of years…and to someone who’s not interested in you one bit but in the story…and to a cause where you are totally aware that you should be brief, 100% honest and clear??

I mean TOTALLY honest…even the little hidden facts that you always keep for yourself to keep your pride or the little lies that helped you see the situation more reformed than it really was or the little editing you intentionally did to make a hurtful story line appear more poetic…TOTALLY honest!!!

And brief…the journalist asked specific questions and wanted THE answers…no swirling around the answer…just blunt answers.

And i am someone who doesn’t usually lie…especially when asked…i almost never answer falsely to a question unless great harm is going to happen to another person because of my answer…so it was easy to answer truthfully.

BUT…it was not easy at all to view the story that clear and that blunt.

There is another set of facts that reveal when you see a story clearly. you, then, see the true meaning…the clear value…what you really did…how stupid you really were…or how ugly others were.

And a painful sting penetrated my heart…i thought: if only i knew how to rip off all the sugar-coating bull shit we do to wrap ugliness with just to humiliate ourselves…If only i knew how to see a story -while i’m at it- that clearly and that honestly and that bluntly…I would have saved myself a whole lot of wasted years and heartache…

but after a few minutes…i breathed out a great amazing sigh of relief…seeing bluntly the story showed me as bluntly that i was never at any point shameful.

I may have been blind…naive…stubborn…anything…but i never justified being shameful and i never allowed myself or anything to disrespect my dignity by accepting disgrace…in the most ugly situations i fought for my dignity…never misled it in the name of anything…even the name of love (which in my opinion is a great a greater pit of crap).

And maybe that is what really matters in life…To be dignified as a human being…no matter what happened…regardless of the story…that is what really really matters.

Thing is…all the truth, clarity and real value you need to save your dignity is laying right under your nose waiting for you to just look…

We can be focused and accept the truth while we’re in the story and before it ends onto us.

We can contribute to the scenario…we really can choose a story line…at least then…the ending would never be shameful…never!!

groups or not!

A group…Apparently everything in life is bound to form groups.

Life is run by a group of people with mutual interests to make the biggest fortunes sucking people’s blood.

In politics, there are groups within a government…groups within a political party…and groups within ministries.

In businesses, there are groups within the company…groups within the departments…and freakin’ groups within the groups.

It is driving me crazy…I am not a group person…I may like someone in particular and do my best never let that show at work, like that girl who was my assistant in my old company…I LOVED her…she was so kind, so pure like babies and so good at work…she was amazing…I supported her fully while always trying to be fair and objective.

I am not a group person…I am a company person…some colleagues like me and some hate me and I go along just fine with both.

And when someone like me joins an online business/professional group it becomes a true challenge…especially if the group creator is a narcissist bitch…A group admin who never allows anyone to disagree or question the GREAT experienced creator…A group admin who’d reply to a counter opinion in bold red letters that it feels like a bull is running after you :S

I lose my mind easily when I’m annoyed by arrogance; that filthy human behavior that people confuse as pride or strength.

Socially b2a, I blend smoothly in groups but I don’t approach that…or let me say , I never attempted to approach that…I am a one to one person…I love to give from my heart and love to receive truthfully without the influence of a spectator.

Yet, going out with two or three friends is so much fun so I do it rarely but with the RIGHT company that will not ruin the good time for me.

How? Well, girls could relate to the following:

–          When you are having a great time with friends and you say something funny so they laugh then a specific girl would comment: why you laughing, that was a line from a movie.

–          When you are having dinner with friends, then accidentally go to the rest room to find two of your friends gossiping about you in there.

–          When you see the look, the meaningful mean look one of the girls gives the other to draw her attention to something you are wearing or something you just said.

–          When a girl can’t take a joke and tet2emes and ruins the whole outing by ranting so that everyone would spend the evening pampering her.

–          Or when some girl decides to be funny on your expense, so she would tehreeky tarya2a.

–          OR…elkebeera b2a, would teltosh bremark semaweya then when your face changes she would say: eh?? Bahazar…friends beyhazaro 3ady alla!!

Yeah…girls do that…not all of them but it is very likely for at least one incident of those mentioned above to happen within a group.

So, I am not a group person…I like individuals…and every other year I get the urge of knowing new friends…like these days…I have the urge and I am knowing new people of  a certain criteria while cherishing and treasuring my precious old friends.

Which leads me to another related point…I want…I NEED new female friends…most of my best friends are guys…so much easier to be friends with a guy…we get along instantly if he has three things: intelligence, sense of humor and respect.

But…I need the female bond…I have been a loaner for quite some time now and I was humble in my expectations so I didn’t allow myself to seek or even be there for friends to seek me.

so…my quest now is to open up and allow myself to enjoy new female friends.

I don’t know about groups yet…as except for the book club which i absolutely love and adore, i was never in a group…but…I am open for attractive suggestions and I promise my full devotion.

And to my surprise, men get it!

Sometimes it feels lonely in the ethical world.

Sometimes, I and many others i know feel lonely as we practice our beliefs because we feel better about ourselves while we do…yet some other people might see these beliefs as unrealistic, unnecessary or just weird.

We live anyway, feel proud anyway, brag about our ideals anyway.

Sometimes we fail our own beliefs but because we are already familiar with them we would always reach a point where we remorse and retreat back to a higher bar of values, that would make us feel good about ourselves again.

I, like many, when i embrace values that are not so common among the -modern society- i feel lonely sometimes…but the most refreshing thing happened to me the other day.

Let me take you back to the Summer of 1996…I was in my last college year (studied Law btw) and my Lebanese hunk of a cousin came to visit Egypt for 18 days…His mother is Egyptian so he had a nice humor and a special machoism added to his gorgeous appearance.

a few days later something just clicked and we had a super summer -totally innocent- crush ever!

He extended his visit to be one month then returned to Beirut.

We both discovered later on that a proposal was fought big time within the family…

I got married and each of us lead his different life…only a family call or email here or there kept us in touch every couple of years…but one day, about a year ago and while i was married, he decided to call me…he was emotional…I apologised politely as i felt against talking to someone i had any sort of history with while i’m married…time passed…I got my divorce and just the other day he knew from his mom so he called…we talked a nice welad khalah conversation and suddenly he said: I want to express my total respect for you…Because you were truly exceptional refusing to receive my emotional call although I AM YOUR COUSIN out of respect for your husband.

My smile was so big my cheeks hurt…MEN GET IT!! someone thinks my too much cautious is respectful…someone recognizes a value so alien today i am called mo3aqada because of.

Men respect the respectful…they read the gestures…they value the valuable.

Men, might seem OK and encouraging when we want to lose it with them and get involved in any habal…that’s because they react to an open invitation that instincly they can’t refuse and of course they’ll say and do anything to get it.

It was not a big thing…it was just a phone call…but the rule was clear in my head…the mere presence of a husband was a clear criteria for me.

Speaking of which…Women, as mo3aqadeen as i am get those 3o2ad from a very special place in their lives btw…I am speaking of mature independent women, we aren’t born with values and we have out grown the strict fatherly cocoon that keep us safe.

We have simply gotten ourselves burned/or watched closely a loved one doing it  at some point by false concepts and delusional modern dreamy sweet talk that attempted to rip the dignity and coat it with a short-term delicious sin…that burn is the base that we build a strong life path upon and a solid set of values on.

We all burn ourselves and we all allow others to hurt us at some point of our lives…but only the proud…the graceful…and the authentic know when to face the hurt and build a new vision with it.

In the phone call, I have wished my cousin the best in life…He wished me the same and we hung up as friends…no emotions were there, at least from my side…nothing but a sweet memory and a lovely recognition.

And it may feel alone in the -good world- but the time will come when something refreshing will happen and all the alienation will feel sooooooo worth it.