Do Not Undo

What I didn’t do this week end,

“What have you done Cleopatra” is a refrain we use to practise emotions in our theatre rehearsals.

But here is the query…what didn’t you do…

Kids these days have not really faced this, moms squinting, raising an eyebrow, which a Natyashastra scholar would call,”Utkshipta” and the vision would penetrate right through the seven secret doors, the trolls, three headed dogs, flying keys, magical potions, or monstrous chessboards that Harry potter had to cross to reach the mirror that tells your inner most desire just turn impotent here. This look was perfected by mother, and teachers, and then question would be popped rather menacingly, “What did you do”

After such harrowing experience “what didn’t you do” should technically be a breeze, but buddy, now that I have began to pound the laptop, I realize, there is a catch, I am posed with choices,

  • The checklist—that is I am supposed to do these things but I have not done it,
  • I have done what I was supposed to do, and what are the hypothetical things I that could have done and I did not do.

If I go with the first then logical query would why you not did…Were you procrastinating…evading…escaping or just were you just not aware that were to do the task.

If I were to go with the second then the issue is are talking of knowing something that you can do, but did not do, it can be done in any case, or are we talking about things that we do not know that we can do… this whole question turns rather complex.

I now empathize with my patients, what should I say that sounds right, or what is that the doctor really wants to hear.

What I normally do when I am unclear is I check the dictionary… Merriam Webster is my favourite check out what exactly the word means, then I figure how it would pan out in my place. I did not it this weekend. I decided to check out the quotes many times I get clarity of vision there, the book on quotes some made it about right and wrong.

It was the round robin we play…”king of the palace lost his cap

Some say this and some say that I say it is Cleopatra.”

Cleopatra replies, “I sir,”

“Yes sir,’’

‘’No sir””

“Who then sir”

“I say it is Harry Potter” this game can go on… but it did not give me a solution. What next…? Let’s look at the opposite of doing, since if I did not do… then something had to be done…which was undone, and not doing something about my not doing anything…

Let’s not confuse issues, to learn and not do actually about not learning, and to know and not do, is about not knowing. Somewhere we mistake activity for achievement, so at the end of the end, I have concluded, I do not know what I have done, or what I have not done… what remains is I have not undone.

 

 

Life Sentenced

Describing my in 10 sentences….

Just a minute I need to contact my junior Jeevan Rego who was asked to write five sentences on his mother in the 2nd standard here is what he wrote with the numbers in place.

  • My mother is my mother her name is Amma.
  • My mother is also my brother Santosh’s mother.
  • My mother is very pretty and she has many sarees.
  • My mother is studying in fislogy (physiology for you and me) department.
  • Then my mother married my father.

This was shared by our teacher. As for my life, I have been writing… stories since the age of five,as most people could not comprehend my spelling I earned first academic gold star.. it was in story telling… what I did before that i am clueless but I like to pass it off as research. During my teenage years appropriately educated by the Marx and Groucho’s I went about life,rather purposefully looking for the leak in the gas pipe with a lighted candle.

My sainted aunt the ryder is story  in 10 sentences… do I pronounce a judgement on the criminal activities I have done like hanging a picture or killing time or massacring language…I think I will stick to the conclusions I have come to after deliberately not deliberating…  the story of my life in ten sentences as decreed

  1. I was born on the precise date I was to parents who loved me.
  2. I am not dead, so I can have my coffee in peace.
  3. Physiologically a little fatigued but fit and fine… no sentences of hypertension, or diabetes as yet.
  4. . well a little unstable fond of adventures sentenced to periodic evaluation by Sir Roderick Glossop.
  5. Pathology hidden sentenced to excavation.
  6. Socially contradictory has the potential to absolutely crazy if the right catalyst present but by and large tends to be a wet blanket…sentenced to a ten minutes happiness tracking therapy every day.
  7. Spiritually uplifted… with steady feni flow.
  8. Intellectually challenged by the constant company of Lord Emworth’s sister I have just enough intelligence to open mouth when I have to eat.
  9. Everything I like and is fun to do is immoral, illegal or just fattening.
  10. Once I thought I heard the call of love, fortunately for me, it was the wrong number.

PS    i am not always good and noble, but since I am the hero of this piece , I get to hide my off moments.

Now that the sentences have been delivered, after conclusions drawn… Merriam Webster has the third interpretation for the word sentence – which I think is obscenely tedious any way let me share it –as sentencea word , clause, or phrase or group of clauses or phrases forming a syntactic unit which expresses an assertataion, a question, a command, a wish, an exclamation, or the performance of an action, that in writing usually begins with a capital letter and includes with appropriate end punctuations and in speaking is distinguished by characteristic patters of stress, pitch and pauses.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

Holdin’Hans

Holding hands

#Holding hands, love, romance, sunset, and whatnot…. what does one write about it? Maybe I should write about love, how about, how a hand can silence thousands of voices and how someone’s smell can make you feel at home despite of being million miles home.

I wonder how many of have really held the hand someone we love… not in the passing like a loose link, but truly clasp, with pulses of the wrists beating together, fingers mapping the knuckles and nails like a cartographer learning a country by heart. The pressure, the warmth whispering a communication, and you responding to it.

Yet holding hands can come with so many  intonations, like the my mother holding my hand well she didn’t have time for it, maybe Bhagi holding my hand to precise my little finger as took my first step, the grip that said, “bade chalo” I am there if you stumble. When I held my daughters fingers as they took their first step, the immense pride I felt.

The first day at school, as my grandmother held my hands through the maze or what looked like an ocean of people at Padma Sheshadri the grip that said, this is the world at large and you can swim, that imbibed strength in me, as I held my daughters hands when they went school, i could feel the apprehension, the need for assurance that they will be safe, an instinct in me telling me bundle her up and take her home. I did exactly what my grandmother did, I knelt beside her, and told her, “baby, this is a wonderful place, where you will find children just like, you will have teachers who will tell you stories, and a playground where you can play, I am just outside the gate waiting for me when the long bell goes I shall take you home.

Or should I share those times, when my friend held my hand to restrain me from bashing someone who was bothering us, after all one cannot hold a gun when one is holding hands.

Maybe I should talk of holding hands, connecting to one another and this chain of humans holding each other’s hands creating a powerful community bonding.

Of course we don’t talk of the bully hands that hold you down, maybe violate, or suffocate another; we pretend they do not exist.

Coming back to holding hands, sometimes reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey, at other times it is allowing another to take yours.plinky helping hands

When I was in the hospital being treated for burns it was the terminal ward, it was evening and the Parish priest from our church  came for his evening courtesy call, he sat by,   made some small talk and enquired if they would  like him to say a prayer, they replied yes, he then invited them to join him, which they did hands clasped eyes closed and the priest rendered the prayer, this was so moving, in retrospect I wonder if this is the nearest we humans get to whatever God is, when we hold hands and listen.

 

 

 

Frae Whaur Ah See

Let’s take a reality check,

Well.. What is real something ?

I remember seeing this episode, on television, where the protagonist is an actress she tells her brother, it takes me 15hrs of work to 5lakhs and it takes you 15 minutes to blow it up.  We could talk about the make believe world of the actors, we could talk about ivory towers, well that is their reality.

This whole concept of real, unreal, illusion it is all so confusing,  is Harry Potter real? What would my parameter for real be? Is a Vblog real?  If real is something you can see and hear, well you can do that on when you view my Vblog, but it is only through internet, there is absence of touch. You can see me read me, comment on me, I connect with you on all these platforms, but I do not know where you are from, what your actual name is…. though I know all that about Harry Potter, his fears, dreams , strength and weakness, does that make him real and you an illusion?

The tenet of of reality goes, that it is intangible, or existential, or the experimental truth, but which one of them is my reality? Reality is not something that is a derivative nor is it dependent. It could be an illusion, yet it is quite persistent. Now does all that sound tangled and contradictory?

The duality of life, the sathya and mithya… hindu philosophies ponder quite bit on it, but somewhere along the way, Shankaracharya who said “Aham Brahmasmi” gave us “Bhaja Govindam” and Madhavacharya who gave us “Vayu Jeevothama, Hari Sarvothama ” gave us, ikya. Isn’t it strange, that the beliefs transform along the way.

Somewhere I realize that reality to great extent is our thinking,

Reality is about being real and nothing ever becomes real until is experienced, so does that make the past unreal? Well maybe but scars have a strange way of reminding us that our past is real.

Again if reality is the experiential world we live in it is framed on the beliefs that we harbour, and maybe each of us live in our own unique world, which kind of private and very different from that inhabited and experienced by others… if reality is differs from to person to person, then reality is no longer monolithic or in a single plane… maybe it is time to talk about plural realities… with plural realities should we consider some more real than the other? Maybe the bunch of similar realities then what happens to the world of a schizophrenic? For the schizophrenic it is real… we then are in a place where we can no longer say that we are in touch with reality and he is not. We probably are in a state where he lives his reality and cannot get us in touch with it, while we live our reality and we cannot get him to connect with it, so what are we talking about?

madhva acharya

Edition#153

Difference in communication… then probably that is the real problem. To me there is no reality except the contained within us, which could why so many people live such unreal lives, they take the images from outside them for reality, and do not allow the world within to assert itself.

Dream On Predictive,Vision,Escape

The 9th A classroom was the corner square of the first floor of the building, there was feeling of being grown up when we entered there, but  the tables and the chairs, brought us back.The minute the teacher opened her notes, and began dictating God knows what… my yes drifted, the lake of Manipal… this before it was made into a Touristy spot there was no housing society beyond, there was just open flat land beyond the church of Manipal which was like end of the world… few cows grazing…clouds like the one described by Kalidasa in Meghadoota…as elephants put their trunks down to the non-existent water from the drying Palla

“hey you sapna… stop dreaming…come back to class” How unfair, here I was writing the masterpiece that is destined to send Kalidasa to the land of the forgotten and my musing was disturbed. We were told not to dream…. how sad. Because dreaming was considered non-productive escapist quality. The system desperately wove us into  the George Carlin ideology

“Some people see things that are and ask, Why?
Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not?
Some people have to go to work and don’t have time for all that.”
― George Carlin

Then came the Amway into my life, suddenly I was told to dream, then dreams meant, a strongly desired goal or purpose and from human being who was slumbering in her own comfort zone, the human doing emerged, I had to do lists, achievable goals brownie points for achieving and band aid when I didn’t. Dream took a who new meaning. It meant vision.

At this point I am wondering about the word dream in itself we think dreams are not real, maybe because they aren’t made of matter, of particles… Dreams however are real, but they are made of view points… of images… of memories and puns and lost hopes.

As I set on this journey of transforming from human doing to human being, I realized, that sleep, is when the conscious mind rests and the subconscious continues to do its job. The images, the  messages we accumulate through the wakeful states, we let go into this vast undefined space that is our subconscious, during the first third the mind sorts all the information. During the middle third it becomes predictive… the mind assimilates and consolidates various beliefs, the mind also looks at probable outcomes of various behaviour pattern. The final third is probably the most entertaining the venting stage where I get to date PG Wodehouse, murder Premalatha teacher, and get crowned as the home coming queen. This is the imagery flushing that happens.

Of course as an hypnotherapist, I work a lot with the middle third of the dream, the symbolism the association. In my own dreams I have familiar landscapes, and events that kind of become comforting and reassuring, like a rocky terrain near the sea, I think it is Naples, and when I arrive there, the sense of peace and security is amazing, for at that moment I know that I am crossing over from life to death.

There have been times when I have woken up breaking sweat with unexplained rage, sometimes with sorrow   it is like the lingering of a spicy dish.Guess that is called a Nightmare..unfortunately one of those came true…I had the original Dracula as my examiner and I had to repeat the exam six months later.

Be it an escape, be it an vision, be it a predictive beacon, yes I am a dreamer, for a dreamer is one who  find her way by moonlight and my punishment is that I see the dawn before the rest of the world.

With Thanks to 2016

Dear Universe,

Looking Back on 2016 thank you for a wonderful year that I had.

This is one of the most disliked topics I have, it actually reminds of our clinical pathology posting, where we have to do stool examination. Essentially that is what the past is about, experienced digested, some assimilated and some thrown out. Part it we forcefully hold on to, through photographs and memorabilia.

The past could be beautiful or painful, but it is done finished and gone, it is like a ruin. I have been visiting lot of these ruins through in clinic, not mine but others. This time round I decided to let flow.

I loved travel, and 2016, was definitely an year of travel, Jamnagar, Hyderabad, Bangalore, Kolad, Kocchi, Delhi, Bombay  modes of travel differed too, road trips, bus travel, train travel flight travel. I discovered that the Delhi airport was the dirtiest, and the most lax when it came security. I discovered food on tracks which was great fun. People, culture food everything was great. I also learnt at the end of the day I needed by Mosaranna. (Curd rice)

Kolad and Karwar outdoors really brought home the fact that I was quite fond of outdoor physical activity needed to connect to that side of me.

By and large I do not look back, as I do not intend going that way. So 2016 I just decided to write a gratitude journal, instead of journaling and writing morning pages. With the morning pages I realized how much I was clinging to the past, with journaling and the gratitude journal brought a whole shift.

I really had a lot to thank for, wonderful daughters who actually my spirit guardians, the insights they give and the support they give me is amazing. A supermom, who backs me. Friends who stand by me unconditionally.

2016 also put  Jan Sky Mehak Sethi and Vandana Shah into space. Vandana particularly it was as if the universe told me, enough of this “abla naari syndrome” pick butt and move on. Conversation with Vandana was like; okay we all have similar narratives, it is mandatory to be us, the person who we were meant to be. I am reminded of Indu Sundaresan’s epithet of Jahanara… she did not rebel, or fight the system. She was a woman and she achieved all that she had despite the restriction of the zananna she just grew, beyond it, despite being rooted deeply within.

The final epiphany for 2016 was the demonetization. Not to be judgemental… somewhere we got so caught up with the problem we didn’t share solutions. Yes, it is a bad move, inconsiderate, deep down I do think it is a diversion tactic. But when we worked from the space of scarcity we landed with lack.

2016 has also been a great year of personalization, with my Friend Sadhana helping me with reinventing my wardrobe, to make me look and feel good, Zivame consultation of lifestyle, body structure and picking up clothing, or Tea-box  counselling me to the kind of tea that is customized for my taste. Finally having the courage to get my personalized domain. The biggest surprise was my daughter analyzing fragrances and helping me to choose the appropriate one.

At the end of the year, 2016 has been about adventures, and discoveries, be it the Free Money Day, the Rafting at Kolad, the event presentation at Kocchi(which was disastrous) experimenting with Bhuta kola for Hayavadhana  each has been great.

 

 ‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

 

 

 

Joy and Sorrow of Epiphany

“I just had to tell her that I loved her and she was important in my life that is it” everything falls into place.

It had begun with a BSc. In computer science, picking up a job, in a BPO Rajat had been one of those born leaders and the growth of rapid, the BPO community knew him as Gibby short for Gibraltar…

“Listen, Regalis? Couldn’t you find anything else? Not even the Lalit” Gibby had barked at his assistant who had set up the meeting.

“Sir, considering the customer’s logistics this seems to the only workable one.”

“okay”

Gibby sat drumming on the table waiting for the client, when a spritely young person walked up to him, “Mr. Gibraltar?”

“Yes” Gibby was rather curt, it always annoyed him people did not keep their appointment. Here was a woman at that, he was really annoyed.”Could you not buzz saying you were late, Madam you are disrespecting my time”

The Girl stared at him good and steady, she did not seemed perturbed, but with clear slow delivery she told him, ”Mr.Whoever, I am not your client thankfully, but I am here on the request of your client who has met with an accident at the turn of the road, and is being carted to the hospital. Good day”

Gibby felt a fool, and out manoeuvred by a chit of a girl.

Back in the office he could not get her off his mind. Diligent tracking to almost stalking he found out more about her and how and where he could contact her. The relationship grew and they were married.

“I am sorry Samhita, but I do ….”  Samhita realized somewhere along the way the conversations always seem to begin with I am sorry, and it was not a I apologize sorry it was I am delivering news that dis-empowers you, so I am more powerful.  Today was the last straw, “…if you do not understand that in my line of work, if I do not attend to the client then and there I lose out. After being married for 5yrs this is something you should understand.”

Samhita just took another look at the man she married, before she could respond he crumbled and gasped for breathe, the 108 rushed in and the Gibraltar was hit, with a wave of confusion, what Gibby had brushed aside as gas was a cardiac arrest.

Change of job and life style there was an uneasy truce between the two of them, ”I married Rajat, the day Gibby can let Rajat return the marriage will be on, until then we just cohabitate.”

That was the time Rajat met Sadhana, slim tall very articulate, there was an instant bond stuck between them,

“This something missing is getting on my nerves,”

“So, Rajat why don’t you address it”

“How”

“Shall I?”

“Hmm”

“How about this, we’ll take a trance session see if something pops up you never know.”

Okay… and they had a session, ”yes, Rajat where are you?”

In a green field,

What are you wearing? Just keep sharing things as they come,

Some kind of loin cloth and a blanket is wrapped round me,  I can see an woman sitting on a charpai, I have seen these only in Rajasthan, someone is approaching he is tall and he has strangled the woman.

What are you doing

I have run away the man scares me too.

Hmm anything else significant.

I’m scared it makes more sense to stay away from these people.

Can you go to the last day of that life?

I am seventy, and am in the open field, my chest hurt just like it did when i got the heart attack, the sun is right on my face,

What are your thoughts?

I am alone, unmarried who will do the funeral rites for me, but more important, I am feeling remorse, the dead woman was my aunt, i should have told my father what I saw at least she would have got justice.

Okay if there is any other life that is relevant it will come up, anything coming up?

Yes, I am thirty two and am in front of a temple with my parents and wife, we are all happy.

What are you wearing?

A silk dhoti, it is red everyone is in silk, we have come down in a Palki we seem fairly well to do family. We are the temple door we are here to for a pooja so that my wife and I will have a child.”

And

I have a chest pain, it is like the one I had few days back,

And

My soul is leaving the body,

Why was this life relevant? What was your learning?

This is the second time I am here yet have not learnt, that one has to speak, actually if I had told my wife that I love and I will protect her she would have conceived right now she has not because she does not feel secure enough to bring a baby to this world. I just had to say I love and care.

Can you ask your subconscious why is it showing you this life?

Because I am in the same situation now, I have to tell my wife that I love her and she is important in my life, I have to assure her that I am there for her I had let her down when she was my aunt, I let down when she was wife before, there is no point in just feeling, I have to express and share” as he vocalized this tears streamed down Rajat’s eyes.

Okay then are good, if you are we’ll count you out…

To Rajat there there was love and understanding with the knowledge, but there was also profound sorrow for what went unacknowledged. It was not the time for regrets it was time for amends and moving on.

 

 

 

 

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Between Self discovery and self recovery

Life is journey of self discovery … or so says pop-philosophy.  What is my journey and till now, fifty years of walking the earth? Have I had moments that brought me closer to the truth of life or closer to my soul and self journey…. hmm, like Lewis Carroll asks in Alice Wonderland…Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle.

Okay let’s see where do we begin this wonderful mythical journey to discover ourselves? Gandhi the Mahatma (puke) says in the service of others you find yourself… okay I go on this path looking for myself where will I find me? Think of the visuals we are morphed into

Cinderella the wonderful daughter obedient hail hallelujah we have a self sabotaging victim at hand… waiting for the prince, waiting to be rescued

Then comes the sleeping beauty… again self sabotaging victim composed until rescue, again by a prince.

What would happen if Cinderella took a hatchet to her stepmother or whipped the life out her oppressor like Geeta does in Seeta aur Geeta?

Coming back to self discover, discovery and then what?

Have you ever come across the term from Upanishad,”Tatwam Asi” you are that… the question next is what… it is precisely that your are that you are precise who you choose to be so what does that make of discovery?

Think of an onion peeling each time we think we have gone a step closer to self discover we are labelling ourselves, stagnate like being in a pond, it is when we let ourselves be part of the infinite, we allow the flow of universe through us, then there is no more discovery there is just a state of being, the experience of infinite.

At times I wonder if the point where Self transcends from being a noun to a verb is that point in the creation when purpose, work, and play merge, and this point is very much in the present…

Maybe it we need to relook at this self discovery theme and look at self recovery…God made us in his model we are just as complete and powerful as him or her, Shakti alone creates Shakti alone destroys, and each of us embodies the essence of that Shakti. Which is why the Upanishad can declare “Tattwam Asi”

Self recovery will hopefully lead to self acceptance, that is the point of self discovery the shift of dwaita to adwaita… from vaayu jeetothama, hari sarvothama, the journey goes to Aham Brahmasmi.

Each morning wake up take a deep breath, and let yourself float in the energy of the universe, you feel the pancha mahabhutas, to experiment make a sankalpa or goal for the day that’s it, then go about your day see if you can find yourself in the activity of the day I learnt a very valuable lesson from my 25yr. Old daughter, her everyday meditation is to request the universe to let her talents be made best use of, since the universe has chosen to channelize it through her,….“And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself?”  ― Jalaluddin Rumi

Growing up with Santa

I wonder if Santa will remember me this year, I am adult to receive gifts, and kids have left home.

November 27th the beginning of advent, this year the feeling of advent was different, there was a huge emptiness. Call it the empty nest; suddenly carol singing and Santa Claus seem too dropped out of the radar.

Despite of being a small town Udupi in a very conservative family my mother had made us believe in Easter bunny, and tooth fairy, of Santa Claus was a community affair, a way of declaring that we were progressive… but since we were children we only appreciated Santa and lot of energy he brought. It is funny the things we get our children to believe, first Santa a magic mythical person who performed the improbable that is handing gifts round the world, then the Easter bunny, from magic we go animal, the reward from toys become chocolate, then as the milk teeth drop we bring in the gossamer winged tooth fairy and reward the child with a coin…asking the child to believe in the currency of the land. Of course in today’s scenario it might dicey.

I realized one really does not out grow Santa…when my daughters were born, we had a mothers group we kept an advent calendar from the onset of advent we put in small gifts for the child till Nativity. Then of course on Christmas Eve Santa visited the houses and gave the kids their goodies. We had the local courier boy help us out. But the excitement the joy we got in putting this whole act together was just as much as it was for kids receiving goodies from Santa.

At the end of the that is what is what Santa is all about, to remind us that it okay to laugh and sing. It is okay to celebrate… there are things we can celebrate each day no matter where we are and how we are it is not the plum cake that he brings or the new hoodie Santa to me is about appreciating little things in everyday life, and celebrating it.

I know a group of lonely women, some divorced, some widowed some for some reason who did not fall into the box, they are a sorority and what they did was each put in a gift for the others and had Santa deliver it to them, it was not just gift, the gift had to be appreciating a specific quality, like when I put in a gift to my friend sunita I say, this is for sunita for being the unconditional support she is to her friends. Whatever, so that is what Santa is about, about appreciation, about acknowledgement,

From being the person who handed out the merit cards, to being my partner in crime in dealing with my kids, Santa has evolved with me, but now I wonder maybe he will forget me, or maybe he will re-invent himself and I won’t recognize him …Well there is only one way to know… let me put my stockings out.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

Lets resolve

New Year is round the corner,

The blogher’s group sends its blog for the year calendar, the Goa reader’s club sends it, and guess what I used vistaprint and create my own calendar since my resolution was to be organized get some projects done and end of the year I presume I would be emotionally, intellectually and financially satiated, These resolutions are quite carefully made, some where I never realized that the year that went by held the language of the year that went by, with demonetization… Vamana Jayanthi…Kattappa and Bahubali resounding in them while the words of the next year are yet to be voiced.

Considering that the last year I had projects spanning the entire year and my year sounded like it would really resonate as for  what went wrong let’s go to it in a while, for now my resolution was  planning my work and work my plan. I did the planning quite well, discovering what I wanted to achieve during the year the goals gave me a direction I felt I was inviting a powerful force into play, both on the universe and subconscious level.  What I wanted to achieve the time lines for it, the big things I did not really did not account much for the little things despite knowing that the little things matter too.  Self improvement was on the agenda interestingly not self acceptance,
“hi, there here is new improved me.” the problems I wanted to solve, they were all there on paper I had a spent a week creating it.

So why did I fail?

Maybe because I was secretive, the fear that I will be ridiculed so was overwhelming that I didn’t tell anyone so I had no running buddy, when I say anyone I mean not even the universe you see the calendar I got printed at Vistaprints. Well I have not sighted it since Febraury 2016

Maybe the to do list was too much so when Justforkics I went out on a date with rest of the to do list lost in the disaster zone I have a legitimate argument I shall go back to my plan when I find the map.

There is a newer excitement popping up. My time line is  not honoured, I have commitments to my mother, daughters, society which come before my personal pandering my resolutions are after all personal pandering.  With mother she said the time frame would not work simple things like not accounting for travel time, or the time when someone knocks your door.etc.

Another friend whose resolution was to go to the gym or swim gave it up because of the financial factor. Though why she could not swim in the sea or take a brisk walk I do not know.

Most of the times our resolutions are unrealistic, and not properly planned. The resolution I did last year I  had put things into a time frame, including account for my second Saturday’s out of town with my daughter at her school town. So why did I not execute… that is interesting, executing it meant I had to give up something the sometime was oh! I have to visit my daughter… but this demand is made of me… it gave me a sense of relevance. that brings me to the reason why most of the resolutions fail, we are not authentic with the change we want to make or the benchmark we would like to achieve.

This year my resolution is very simple…tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365 page book I intend writing a good one…opening line goes…Que Sera Sera…what will be will be one very convenient goal planning book that worked for me whatever little I achieved was from Personal success today

I am writing this for #flashbackRefreshedy  activity on forfoodiefamily in association with Sandy’s Bake Studio.

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