Pausing a bit more

After my gym session yesterday, I went to the changing rooms, to have a shower. I turned the tap clockwise but after a minute it was still running cold, so I turned it towards the cold setting, in case it had been fitted wrongly – this happens here! Still no warm water.

I got angry that I could not have a shower. Then, I started to plan how I could get home, have a shower and still make it to work. Then, I panicked as it would mean missing the Sunday morning huddle attended by the Senior Exec team – so my absence would be noted. Then, I panicked some more as I remembered that I had the gift vouchers for the employee of the month that would be awarded at the huddle. Then, I got angrier.

Then, I..paused. There were two more showers, I tried one and it had hot water. While showering, I reflected on how many times I let my emotions dictate my reactions and cloud my decisions.

I’m preparing for a conference at work. It’s huge. I’m having many ‘firsts’ and being tested in my not-so-new communications role. I’ve been putting pressure on myself to make instant decisions or to know all the answers.

My shower experience reminded me, even in and often especially in the midst of the busyness, it is important to pause.

So, today and in the days leading up to the conference and even during the conference, I’m going to…pause.

Do you need to… pause?

Pausing to Ponder

In these twilight days between Christmas of the West and of the East (7 January), am imitating Mary and pondering things in my heart. (Luke 2:19 – ‘ But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.’) Pondering is usually the domain of the mind but to do so with the heart renders it more mystical and complete.

 

I am pondering:

Starting 2015 in Ghana with my father in law in church and with friends – Banku and tilapia with pepper – street food at its best.

Celebrating my Mum’s 60th birthday with afternoon tea and a musical, mass and lunch at Oceano.

The reggae band at the St Regis hotel serenading me (and a couple hundred other people) on my birthday.

Having a break in Dubai and returning to my bit of the desert and saying to Dubai exiles, now I get it.

Completing the first 12 000 words of the first draft of my novel thanks to Faber on line writing course.

Getting and feeling fitter, though appearance still deceives, thanks to netball and personal training.

Doing a Ramadan detox and only cheating about 10% resulting in the first weight loss I remember experiencing.

Having an amazing 6 weeks in the UK and Trinidad yet still feeling like we didn’t spend enough time with each person but happy we were able to.

Forging new skills in Marketing and Communications. Himalayan learning curve…

Celebrating 10 years as a … married couple – lived it up with a staycation at the Grand Hyatt Doha.

Putting my bossiness, uhmm, organizational skills (comms skills still nascent), and volunteering for the organizing committee of doha netball.

All my older son’s achievements: academic, sporting and musical.

My younger son being a great mix of charm and mischief.

Though Christmasing away from family still had sorrel (thanks A and P), ponche a crème (thanks P), black cake (thanks P), pastille (thanks T), ham (well done me) and parang (thanks to all those who have time to upload Daisy et al).

 

There were disappointments and deaths and I let them rest with the waning year. I move forward with a gratitude filled heart, a joyful spirit and a renewed mind.  I connect to Spirit and ponder its fruits. Three resonate and I decide, in the beckoning year, to experience more of them in my life: love, perseverance and self-control.

 

What are you pondering, at this time of year?

Red ribbons

There were no red ribbons here yesterday

Survivors and their families were not celebrated

Has this modern plague avoided these shores?

Temptation to compare with worthier afflictions

I resist

Knowing circumstance and chance

Makes it not my fate

No ribbons in my hair

Today red I wear

Meditations in the Mundane II

Cleansing can leave you feeling a bit well cleansed – stripped. If you’ve got dry skin like me, moisturiser is a must. I’ve looked on with a cocktail of annoyance, arrogance and amusement as the beauty industry has ‘discovered’, like how Columbus discovered Trinidad, cocoa butter, shea butter and argan oil.

I’ve been using organic, pure cocoa butter since my teens thanks to relatives in ‘de country’. I was introduced to shea over 20 years ago by my mother-in-law. I mix it with oil (the latest discovery) to make it spreadable at room temperature. Previously, I used baby oil before I knew that mineral oil just sits on the skin. Now, I simply mix a bit of 100% organic, extra virgin olive oil (which you can pick up from the grocery) with some 100% pure organic shea butter, supplied by aforementioned mother-in-law or other Ghana connected person. I know my sisters-in-law do a concoction including, at least, the oils of castor, almond and coconut. But steady supply of these can be a challenge in the wilderness.

Every so often, I, like any lady, can get drawn in by shiny bottles and wild claims. But I am getting more armoured against that sort of thing.

Similarly, my soul can feel dry if I don’t constantly mositurise it. One of my favourite descriptions of Spirit is the ‘balm of Gilead’.

Some days a few minutes of meditation and a blast of Mandisa and I’m good to go. Other times, I seek out a Bible verse or four and marinade in it for up to an hour. Then for the really tricky challenges, there’s nothing quite like a novena, 9 hours or 9 days of praying for a specific breakthrough.

Like my skin, I’ve realized I have to moisturize my soul every day and some days, more than once.

 

Should you moisturize your body and soul more often?

Meditations in the Mundane

In one, of my many parallel lives, I am a Magazine Beauty Editor. My inspiration is Mikki Taylor, Essence’s beauty editor during its heyday.

I spent many an hour of my youth, poring over pictures and my friend R trying to recreate them on my face.

Yet, before and after makeup there is the cleansing routine. I have to hold my hand up and say I have never been able to stick to any such routine consistently. I admire people who have perfected this and can do it even at 3 am in the morning, after a few too many caiparinhas and a dodgy bagel or kebab.

I use babywipes, if they can clean babys**t, then what’s some mascara? This is followed by soap and a flannel (washrag) – a clean one every day. Flannels are a great way to indulge your indecision on what colour towels to get. Though my preference is a pure olive oil bar that I used to get in health food shops in the UK, I’ve settled on Dove because it’s readily available and it’s gentle.

When I do wear a bit more makeup and can be bothered to remove it, my go to products are Bobbi Brown’s Soothing Cleansing Oil, Clinique’s Clarifying Lotion and Take the Day Off (lids, lashes and lips).

Yet cleansing, like beauty, is more than skin deep. While doing my routine, I focus on shedding my mind of the concerns of the day or chanting a litany of thanksgiving.

What’s your cleansing routine?

This is for A…

Today, I am going to take a moment to

feel the sun on my face.

savour my cup of coffee.

kiss my husband.

hug my sons.

connect with  friends and family.

enjoy my job.

be grateful for my health.

 

Today I am going to make a donation to a Cancer Charity. Why don’t you?

Back to the wilderness

It’s been almost 2 weeks since we’ve been back … in Qatar. I resist saying home because this desert place tangles with my heart and messes with my brain on so many levels. Yet after 6 weeks visiting friends and family aka wearing the same clothes over and over, sharing a bed with 2 mixed martial artists, adapting to others’ rules whether explicit or implicit… we all exhaled to be back in our own space.

I’ve shed a few tears about being so far away from my family and my friends when inevitably I have to make contact with … people I know here. I resist saying friends because they didn’t know me back in convent, Uni, London. Yet these are the people who I rely on to pick up my kids, have coffee with – never mind how infrequent and with whom I share the gripes that only grate if you live here.

I’ve lived in the house, which I was so grudgingly given, for longer than any other since I left Trinidad 25 years ago. It reflects my aesthetics from the deep coral (it’s not orange) walls to the mainly dark (a few pieces still to be excised) wooden furniture and the many (can never have too much) cushions. I’ve been with the same employer now for longer than any other before. Often in meetings, my manager will say things like only S would remember this or when people complain about something I utter the words ‘It was worse when F was in charge…’

I’ve done things here that I have only ever dreamt of before which led me to reflect on lyrics from one of my favourite hymns, Come Back to Me (Hosea) – ‘the wilderness will lead you to your heart where I will speak.’ The wilderness has afforded me time for reflection, connection with Spirit and myself – time to sift through the must dos and should dos to get to what I need to be and do.

I’ve changed roles at work. There’s no promotion, no pay rise and there’s already a lot more work to do and the learning curve is steep. It’s exciting and scary in equal measure because it’s a Communications role – another one of those dreams I smothered for so long for so many reasons I’m surprised it didn’t die.

Home is

Beach, sea, breeze, flash showers,  pulling seine, sea coconut, homegrown pak choi, tomato and shadon beni, kurma, doubles, cassava dumpling, saheina with slight pepper, coconut water, sour cherry wine, chow – carambola,plum, pineapple, dhal pourie, pholourie, sorrel shandy, mauby, bush tea. Home.

 

2 hour wait in the airport, politics, racialism, mosquitoes, water gone, underachievement. Home.

 

Husband, sons, Daddy, nephew and uncles. Mummy, stepmom, sister and aunties.  Cousins and friends. Home.

Inspiring Envy

What do you do when someone’s achieved your dream? Does a Kelly haze descend? It encompasses wanting what another has, not wanting them to have it or thinking that because they have it, you won’t get it or it will be taken away from you. Is it any wonder that jealousy is compared to murder in the Bible? Complex and negative, it’s a step too far along a ruinous road. Then there is its olive toned cousin, envy, which still covets what another has but can have a redeeming quality: inspiration.

I don’t like to admit to these most human of emotions but I confess yesterday I was envious. I’d just finished reading ‘From Pasta to Pigfoot’. I’d like to have a written and published a book too! Not fair! Or is it? Frances had talked about writing a novel when I worked for her briefly 9 years ago. I don’t know her very well; she’s my sister-in-law’s friend. However, she perseveres as can be attested by anyone who has witnessed the growth of her presence offline and elsewhere.

So instead of marinating in my envy, I chose to be inspired. This morning when there are a million things to do before we leave for the UK later, I decided to revisit my almost 15k word manuscript : critically rereading the appraisal sent by my tutor from the Faber online writing course I completed in May, noting the feedback from my course mates and making notes on how to rework and take forward my story. I plan to use the ‘bodyclock con’ to my advantage and do some writing while on holiday.

How can you make envy work for you?