Ground Zero.

Ground Zero.

Light for the memories. 

Prayers for the souls that were lost. 

And life goes on.

Third time's a charm

Since the arrival of my new toy-the juicer- in mid-January, I've been experimenting.
This is the best tasting blend so far:

1/4 red cabbage (medium sized)
1/2 cucumber
1 green apple
1 stalk of bakchoy.

Yums!!

Someone once told me, that sometimes, when we can't get the words flowing, it's probably because we are too busy living life.

I don't know how true that is. At some point, that may be the case. That, or just pure laziness.

I'd like to think that the writing bug is just dormant at the moment. 

I just hope that it isn't dead. 

pry open my heart
as it slowly comes apart
words no longer hide

to dance its story
bask in all its mystery
cherished history

pry open my heart
trapped memories shall depart
here's to a fresh start

If the world was perfect, Dreams would be lost.

If the world was perfect, Possibilities would end.

If the world was perfect, there would be no room for Growth.

If the world was perfect, Opportunities would not have rolled.

If the world was perfect, Curiosity would be killed.

If the world was perfect, Creativity would not have flowed.

If the world was perfect, it would be still. 

 

Be thankful that the world is imperfect, 

And that we are all perfectly imperfect.. 

Isn’t that a Perfect arrangement?

This piece was written a few years back, well, almost half a decade ago actually. I wonder what happened to that particular Muse. I suppose, nothing in life is static and we are constantly changing.

Maybe all we need to do is embrace each moment, but let it flow.

_________________________________________________
Peace, revisited. 

The night has turned into a stage. Complete with a backdrop of bright, shining stars and the silhouette of palm trees swaying gently. Nevertheless, the orchestra of rustling leaves, singing crickets and the occassional baritone croak of the frogs are amiss. All I can hear is the constant hum of silence.

In this empty space, Intuition is sitting with Thoughts and Emotions. Each with its own little monologues, neither talking nor listening to one another. Each acknowledging the other's presence, yet each, is lost in its own soliloquy. It seems chaotic on the surface, but Peace is twirling around blissfully; dancing to her own beat without a care in the world. Words swirls around trying to mimic Peace's movements, filling the thin air with a certain warmth. But Words is a little bit lost.

This is a rare moment where everything and nothing make sense. A time to sit back and be enveloped by the beauty of The Present. A dream-like moment where the concious and sub-concious merge, creating strange, mysterious, beautiful patterns. Surreal yet true. Abstract, yet defined.

The Sunset Run

It has been awhile since I ran at the park. Heck, it has been awhile since I ran at all. Ironically, what prompted me to run today was this annoying, movement-restricting,  pain in the knees that refused to go away since the past two months. 

Easing myself out of the running hiatus, I started with brisk-walking. The rhythm of my feet touching the ground, one after another, lulled me into my own little world. I realized that I’ve never been up here at this time of the day. I took a deep breath. The smell of damp, dried leaves wafted through the air. I looked around for something somewhat familiar, but no, it was quite different. There were no monkeys chilling by the trail as usual. The sound of crickets singing was prominent, like a haunting soundtrack. But it was not the same song that filled the air in the morning.  As the familiar trail transformed into a strange, unknown place, my thoughts quickly returned to my knees.  Maybe it was time to pick up the pace, I thought. I broke into a slow jog, my knees were doing fine, it wasn’t painful .Left , right,  left,  right- sharp pain. Stop.  Walk.

I looked up to the sky as I huffed and puffed for air. The sky was a gradient of pink and orange, with a hint of purple. Fascinated, I fixed my gaze on the salmon-coloured sky as I continued walking. It felt as though the sky at that very moment was giving me a personal visual montage. Through the narrow tree-covered trail,  through the intertwined branches, I saw the sky turning from deep blue to grey to purple. Pink was gradually losing its presence. And when it was completely gone, the moon was unveiled.

Nature seemed to cast a different pattern of shadows to the area. The trees seemed to be bowing lower and branches didn't look as friendly as it was in the morning. The rustling sound along the bushes were not something that I was familiar with. I was struck by this myriad of movements. There I was moving through my bubble of existence. And everything else was moving too, in their very own dimension. Nothing was ever in the same place. They looked similar, but they were definitely not the same. It was nothing novel, but realizing yet again how every single element moved at its own pace, to its own rhythm, touched me for some reason.  I loved the thought of how each of this different motions, at each point, came together,  creating frames and frames of unique moments. No two moments would ever be alike. And there was no other way to completely enjoy these moments aside from being completely present. Once it was gone, all you would be left with, were memories, such as this.

The trail started to take a downhill turn. Taking advantage of gravity, I broke into a jog and trotted downhill as the sound of the Adzan broke through the air, crisp and clear. At the parchment right before the parking lot where lil bro was already waiting, a black cat was sitting pertly on the grass.

Dear Muse,

Perhaps, you and I, we don't speak the same language anymore.

Cocoon pt 1

I couldn’t recall the precise moment when it stopped. But it did. Maybe life just got in the way. Maybe something switched off inside, completely disconnecting me from my sanctuary within. For some reason, I was denied access to my jungle of introspection. And there I was, my mind, my soul and my body, completely out of sync. It felt like driving a car with faulty bearings and screwed up tyre alignment. It took twice the effort or sometimes more, just to stay on-course and even harder when negotiating a curve. Try accelerating and the whole vehicle would shake and rattle that I was scared that it would fall apart and that I would be left holding just the steering wheel by the end of the journey, if I could even reach the destination. Nevertheless, the road demanded that I rattle my way through. The aim was to keep on moving because the place that I was in, was not a very nice place to be.

As my elements continued to go separate ways, I saw two things happening. Firstly, I was like a sheet pulled so tightly that anything that came my way would just bounce off me. Secondly, a simple rule of physics; if an object is pulled in opposite directions with equal amount of force; it will come to a halt. And to a halt it came.

So there I was, frozen in my own little dimension as the world continued spinning. And thus began another phase of transition which I now understood to be a pre-determined natural process of internal metamorphosis. I was in a cocoon.

………….

Hiatus..

Waiting for the Muse to return from her long vacation .. Peace is back from one of her short trips.. I sure do hope that she will stick around for awhile.. but if she does take off again anytime soon, I think I'll be alrite for awhile as Chaos and I have made a pact. We're gonna make things crazy fun while she's gone.. Haha!

Closure#1.... After a long long time.. a good night sleep ..Grateful is the word.. :)

To allow societal pressures suppress your true colours and sway your inner truth are the worst things you could do to yourself...

People see, hear or believe what they want or rather.. NEED to .. to keep their own sanity..

It's perfectly okay to be misunderstood... it's a crazy world as it is.

After all has been said and done..all that is left to do is wish and pray..

Return of the Muse..

There'll be a point in life where you'll realize that you are no longer the person you once were. An internal shift that surpassed all the physicals. Sure, you are still at the same place, on the same journey, probably even doing some of the same things.. and would still look the same, of course.. yet, internally, you are different.

And you don't really know what the turning point was.. and actually, it doesn't really matter.
Good thing is, you know that you have gone through one phase and is know in another. And that you have learnt what you needed to learn before..hopefully.. Maybe, just maybe.. in some aspects you are a little bit wiser.. Hopefully :D

The interesting part is.. you can still recognize some of the signs. The feeling that there will be more lessons to learn. Lessons that you don't feel quite equipped to handle.. .. yet somehow, I understand.. and I hope I understood it right.. that these things are only presented to you when you are ready to handle it..

So help me God ..

Something I've almost forgotten..

The Serenity Prayer..

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can;and wisdom to know the difference.

Unmarked

It amazes me how good things and bad things can happen at exactly the same time, within the same space.

Good thing is, they do not cancel each other out.

Happiness is happiness.

Sadness is sadness.

Hope is hope.

It is a long road ahead with paths, uncharted.

And my heart welcomes all the surprises that I shall meet.

Life: A Constant Improv

And to each their own rhythm and melody. A grand orchestra made up of various elements. Sometimes calm and soothing, sometimes erratic and haunting, sometimes surprising with unexpected twists and turns or sometimes, simply monotonous and predictable.

And sometimes, all at once.

And for each sound that comes unheralded, there is a pattern. And for each chaotic set of beat, there will be a soothing taksim. And there will be moments when it all come together in cacophony or harmony.

Ultimately, what seems to be an improv to me, is actually a part of a higher choreography which I could not see or understand just yet.

Middle Eastern Magic

It was a dream come true. I sat there transfixed as the Maestro himself and his enchanting ensemble carried me away into another reality. And there was the Enchantress, dancing beautifully to every single beat and tune with the precision and beauty of a true master of the art. I was completely spellbound. Never have I thought that I would ever watch Hossam and Serena Ramzy perform live, in flesh, right before my very eyes. Having watched videos and listened to their work since I began my love affair with Middle Eastern Dance not too long ago, I jumped when I heard that they were coming to Malaysia and booked my ticket immediately.

There was something soul-lifting about listening to one of my favourite songs, 'Zeina' being played live. Believe me, I almost cried. And to listen to classics like Enta Omri and other songs that I was familiar with makes my heart swell. It was also really really nice to bump into familiar faces. One of the things I love about bellydance is how easily people bond through it in the spirit of sisterhood. I thought I would be alone tonight as most of the people I know went on the first night. So it was a pleasant surprise to meet Huda, (who by the way, came to watch on both nights!) and ended up changing my seat so that we could sit next to each other in the front row. Watching it with a friend made the event so much more worthwhile:D Then, I bumped into Naziehah, Azfa and Mavis. Compared to these ladies, I am very much a newbie. Naziehah is actually the person responsible of converting my sparks of interest into this inextinguishable flame that it is right now. It was her who taught me my first moves and even if it was just for two sessions, I can't thank her enough!

My personal definition of a successful performance is when it reaches out to me on many levels. And the show did just that. The improv segment especially, struck a chord within me. Serena tackled every beat and tune that was thrown to her gracefully and effortlessly. Every movement was executed spontaneously and it turned out simply beautiful. And through my non-expert observation, she was able to do it because she kept her center. A position that she would always come back to no matter where the music carried her. Her understanding of the essence and the underlying meaning of the music, combined with powerful mastery of the techniques contributed to her precision. The fact that she connected well with the musician and her audience is another factor to her mesmerizing performance. It was obviously a two-way communication where the dancer and musicians influenced each other. Most importantly, she was connected to herself. She owned her space and she interpreted the songs with heartfelt genuineness.

So much like life, don't you think? Sometimes it trashes you around, tests all your limits and seems to try to break you. But if you keep your center, engage both your knowledge and intuition and be aware of your environment, then maybe you will enjoy the spin and won't end up so frazzled or out of control. I went home with one thought lingering in my head- what happened to my center? What about you guys out there? Do you know your center?

Who would have thought that one could find enlightenment at the most unexpected time and place. I love Middle Eastern Dance, Raqs Sharqi, Bellydance, Oriental Dance, Tarian Timur Tengah, Tarian Padang Pasir, Danse du Ventre, ..whatever name anyone wish to call it, I love it all the same.

Rubbles 2

It's actually quite fun to watch the pieces falling off. Well, okay. Not fun. Annoying? A little. Scary? UH HUH *nods nods*.. Interesting? mm hmm *nods*

Here's hoping that soon, illusions will vanish.

Here's hoping that soon, the genuine ones is visible among the debris.

Here's hoping that soon, the glimpses of what's buried and hidden will start to come out.

It is simple really. It is all in the foundation.

It is shaky.

Tinnitus

Sleeplessness is a blessing.

It forces you to lay still in the darkness of the night, accompanied by nothing else but your thoughts. And you have no choice over which thought would enter. It comes and goes on its own. In whatever manner it chooses to. You have no say over it. And then you start to feel. And feel you will, of all the feelings that you have been hiding from. Truth has demanded your attention.

This world is a noisy place. Full of arbitrary sound that fills up this huge void of silence. The void left by things unspoken. The void that keeps getting bigger and bigger each time you fail to make a stand, each time you fail to speak the truth, each time you fail to express your love, or your hatred, each time you fail to be sincere. And the sound of arbitrary noise that you make will never be enough to override this deafening emptiness. It only makes it louder.

Can you miscommunicate with yourself? Yes, quite easily, actually. You can make up sound in your head to keep from listening to the beat within. To put on layers after layers until you don't recognize who you have become. To stop listening to yourself, to lie to yourself and to deny your true nature. Then you tell yourself that it is for the greater good. That the day will come when you can be true again, but for now, you have to follow this marked path in front of you. Because this is the road to your dreams, or so you think.

But you have conveniently forgotten that these dreams, are built on the arbitrary noises that you have brought upon yourself. That those dreams are sometimes not really yours but is a landmark that has been flagged along this path that you are following. You told yourself that you are not blind, that this is what you need to do and this what you want to do. And then you get confused, you don't know what's going on, because you are unable to see. And nobody else can see through the layers, nobody else can help, because they are reaching out for the wrong things. You are completely on your own.

And it's not that you haven't admitted the truth, it's not like you have not tried to remove the layers neither have you not felt suffocated. But you wonder if it's too late to turn back. What if you remove all the layers and found that everything beneath is rotten and dying, if not already dead?

It is not that you have chosen the easier path, its not that you have not sacrificed. But could it be that you have done it for a lie. Fighting a cause that isn't really yours in the beginning? Denying the call from the depths of the abyss, that you have left buried?

But it doesn't want to stay silent anymore. You can't keep silent to yourself any longer. It's making a constant sound now. Slow and steady hum from within.. and no white noise in the world can deny its existence.

Sleeplessness is a blessing.