Of no help.

 Something that I really appreciate about my parents is how they let me be in my room. I mean, yes I am an adult and staying here indefinitely, not for too long hopefully. But I'm still their kid. And it's refreshing to be left by myself. It's 2 pm. And i can hear them watch TV downstairs, but they don't care. They don't give a shit about what im up to. How refreshing. It makes me want to spend more time with them. Because I get to choose. Little freedoms can mean a great deal at times.

*

The other day i tripped and fell, while walking. I haven't fallen down in a while. Or had my palm scratched on gravel. It was so nostalgic. Funny isn't it. Anyhow turns out that my feet have betrayed me. I can't seem to continue walking for long hours anymore without it feeling like i have somehow offended the earth itself causing it to attack my toes every step i take. Bummer. BUT. I had my first swim today. After maybe a decade? Or more. Loved feeling the water around my skin. Not on my skin, just around it. What a feeling. 

*

The other night i wrote an entire blog post in my head about all the ways therapy has helped me. Maybe I will write one eventually. Maybe i won't. But the awareness of how far I've come, the work I've done, the persistence with which I have fought for myself, to be myself, is something I am so proud of. Maybe proud is not the right word. Its more like comfort. An assurance. A warm blanket. It is me being on my team. Me coaching me and me cheering for the me who is on the field. That on its own, has been quite the experience and I'm glad for it.

*

Today has been odd. In due consideration of my hormones and shit as fuck mood, the entire day was spent on the bed. Binging on Ted Lasso. A show after my own heart. Eating chocolate and banana bread. Journaling. Napping. Sulking. Frowning constantly. Listening to Brene Brown try to explain emotions. Hiding from guests for 4 hours. And crying a little bit. Its almost midnight and it feels like .. I don't know. 4 pm? or 10 pm? I don't know. I am down in the dumps and i don't even feel like picking myself up. I just don't have the energy. 

*

Things were better today, even though it seemed impossible. Did a lot of sorting and getting things ready for Monday which is an important day for me. I hope all goes well. I went swimming again today. There was a cockroach in my slipper. I felt it on my foot. Prickly. I told A this happened and he said You must've died right there, and i said yeah. I was pretty stunned for a bit. And then I tried to be brave about it. But I am still curling my toes right now, thinking about it. ICK! 

I got to talk to A for longer today. 

*

The funk continues. Despite a great weekend with a quick solo trip outside the city, wholesome reunion with two friends, and a very, very good news. I still feel low. And did not go swimming today either. Watched a hundred videos about proper breathing techniques under water, but did not end up going in said water. Great. I think it's time that i force myself to make some changes. To push myself out of the funk. No one else can or will do it. So. Tomorrow, hopefully. 

Enough paragraphs. Time to hit publish.

Baby, you have no idea.

 At times I wonder.

What did I do? What have I really done, to be loved this way. 

Last night I was re-watching La La land, and there's a line in there that says 'Why do you say 'Romantic' as if it's a bad word?'. And then I found my heart breaking over the beauty of some of the scenes. And i thought to myself. Love, is really all that matters. Or at least, it's one of the big ones isn't it. Or maybe the biggest? I'm also reading a book called All about love. And she too talks about how we just don't talk about Love that often. Maybe we don't know how to. We do make attempts. With our movies and poems and art and books. But have we really figured it out? No, i don't think so. It's ever elusive. It escapes us. Its bigger than us. Describing it, defining it, is containing it and reducing it. It has to be Felt. Lived. Shared. Screamed. Breathed. 

Coming back to me feeling loved. Wanted. Appreciated. It is the greatest privilege of all. When old friends tell you they've always missed you and you're still their go-to person. When a stranger waves at you excitedly every time you run into them. When your cat recognizes your scent even though you don't live with her anymore. When she lets your pet her. When you allow yourself to disintegrate from stress, someone picks you up and brings you ice cream. When you celebrate in the middle of the road. Not alone. Knowing someone. To have been seen. Even missing someone, mourning someone. That's love. The absence of someone is love as well. Wanting to be loved is love as well. It exists even in non existence. Like God. Well. Let's dial back a bit. 

What I mean is. What did I do? To have love surround me this way? Why is it that when I go for a walk, I feel the sky loves me too. The wind, the trees. Why does it feel that it's all for me? Why do I get to bathe in beauty this way? Woe to anything that makes love take a backseat. 

A rush. A glance. A touch. A dance. 

A look in somebody's eyes, to light up the skies

To open the world and send it reeling

A voice that says, I'll be here

And you'll be alright.

Savalanche.

 I have always felt like God has me under His wing. I do complain, and fret and whine and sulk. About mostly everything. But inside, I know He got me. And I got this. I've also always known that I am great company. Lately I've had the privilege of  spending a ton of time by myself and with myself. And it has been a riot. Yesterday for the first time, I went to watch a movie alone. I am so mad at myself for not having done it sooner. I had the absolute best time. Can't wait to go again. 

I've been reading again. Getting in touch with old friends. Haven't made any new ones but that's alright for now. I've been walking. Smiling to myself with a jump in my step as I do so. At times it takes me by surprise how at ease I am, being this way. I think of course, the reason it comes easy is because I am loved. I am alone, but I'm not lonely. I have love around me and love waiting for me and I am waiting for it and looking forward to it as well. It's what keeps me going. 

I am also grateful. Incredibly and incredulously so. Are things too good to be true? Well, I know a curve ball awaits me somewhere in the near future. It will be either this or that. But it will be something or the other. But I guess that's okay. For now, I'm nourished. I'm grateful to have the space and time to pause. To recharge. To play hooky a little bit longer. Things will be dealt with. Curve balls will be hit out of the park or dropped or get my nose broken with. We'll just have to see. 

Till then. Smile! 

Cat hair.

 *fingers crossed* 

This is my sixth attempt to write a blogpost in the past two months. The other five are rotting in the Drafts section. I'll try to write and quickly publish before I can have a second thought.

What prompted me to write however was a feeling of bliss. Slightly melancholic, yet bliss nonetheless. 

Its 10 am and its just me in the house. Living alone can do wonders for your soul. I think I want to do this for longer but these few days are all I have. Anyway, coming back to what prompted me to write. Just a tummy full of yummy breakfast. A steaming cup of tea. The rain is loud and fat outside. Dim lights. Cold room. Chocolate covered almonds. And Only murders in the building. This show has pleasantly surprised me. I'm quite enjoying it. Just heard some thunder. This moment is perfect. Hence, the urge to write. And maybe save.

I've always enjoyed being on my own to be honest. Such liberation. I'm glad that hasn't changed. With time and trouble. There is a reunion of sorts happening inside me. Meeting parts of myself again. The ones I didn't have time for, amidst deadlines and dread. I'm walking again. And practicing yoga whenever I can. I think, maybe, lately everything has been an exercise in some way to meet myself. The old and the new. I love both. Both are me. 

I have this urge to write and write and write. Imperfect words all of them. All my disjointed thoughts. I feel I must describe everything. 

Gratitude comes easy. Peace somehow doesn't. I mean. Sometimes all this emotion. I wish I could dial it down. Just sometimes. Enough so that I don't have to google my cat's feelings and cry over them. Or enough to feel like I do deserve the boundaries i struggle to create. 

My tea is getting cold. I do hope I go outside and spend some time on the porch. Dim lights are nice, but nothing beats daylight. I smile as i type this. Because I had a sticky note next to my bed back when I lived at the hostel. It said 'Nothing beats daylight'. I'm glad some things never change.

Isn't it funny how. Love without action can be quite useless? I have an abundance of love inside me. But imparting it, often exhausts me beyond capacity. If only feeling it were enough. What a world that would be. But i guess. Good things don't come easy. This just reminded me of the Work and energy principle we studied in physics. I just googled it and look what i found :

A person that holds a heavy object does no physical work because the force is not moving the object through a distance. Work, according to the physics definition, is being accomplished while the heavy object is being lifted but not while the object is stationary. 

Well. Well. I guess holding all the love doesn't amount to shit. You gotta keep it moving. That's when the work happens.

Okay I think that's enough for today. Pressing Publish. Yes!

Jigsaw cuddles.

 You tell yourself that everything will eventually work out. Things will fall into place, where they belong. Deep breaths. Pep talks. Muted palpitations. Compartmentalising. Procrastinating? Patience. Think positive. Take it one day at a time. We can do this. It's worth it. Much needed breaks. Paralysing anxiety.  Deadline fatigue. Attempts to focus. Learn. Memorise. Repeat. Sleep. Dreams as deep as sleep itself. Wake up. A barrage of kisses and hugs. Every morning. To do lists. Shit to do. Shit to worry about. Shit to be sad about. Shit to panic about. Shit to cry about. Shit to brush under the rug. Exploding love. Jigsaw cuddles. A quiet understanding. Shared silences. A premature longing. Amidst all of it, you tell yourself. Everything will work out. Everything will eventually fall into place. 

*

Yesterday was a full day. But a good one. We hopped from one government office to another. Stood in long lines, in 47℃, under direct attack from the sun itself. Got a lot of shit done. Had falsa juice and lemonade and top pops. Had a late lunch, early dinner at a place we like. Came home exhausted and binge watched Stranger things till late in the night. Made each other laugh through out. I cried in A's lap for a bit because of course. At one point, i told him i felt a lot of negative energy pent up inside me. When i'm done ranting, more often than not, his answer is either Yoga or Prayer. We often go for walks outside the house followed by Yoga with Adrienne. Makes my heart rest better. Last night i chose prayer. 

*

Lately I feel as if my heart has softened a great deal more. With love. The way you soak a wet cloth and it comes out drenched. Heavier. What has caused it? I don't know. But i feel it. Almost as if i have to take care of it. Guard it and nurture it. I don't know. I don't know. 

*

F*** double standards. 

Don't let the monkey drown.

 I'm having a tough time focusing. I'm having a tough time holding on to a single thought for more than 30 seconds. Ir maybe 5. I blame instagram. I've never been one of those people who go off social media and delete their apps when they decide to study for long periods or be productive in anyway. But now, at 30, (wow im thirty), it has finally started to make sense to me. I need my mind back. Also, I don't appreciate how just because I have a phone and i have whatsapp, I'm somehow available to everyone who has my number. At all times. Why? I think the solution is to just keep my phone away. I still do that from time to time, keep my phone at the other end of the room or not charge it when it has died down. Just for some respite. But unfortunately, before long, my monkey mind prances about, grabs my phone and checks out 20 different pages of online boutiques trying to decide what I want to wear on Eid, to impress aunties i don't even like, saving page after page because what if i might need it later?

Last night, while half asleep, i had this thought..that. This is not me. (keeping up with my theme of describing what is ME on this blog). I'm the girl who wears sneakers and a t shirt and goes happily about her day. Chirpin about. I'm the girl who has one good bag and one good wallet and refuses to hoard more because why should i? I feel i'm still that girl. Who is being held hostage by this IMPOSTER who wants to impulse buy 8/10 of the things instagram tells me i should buy.  How did i turn into this monster? Well granted, my tiny t shirts don't fit me anymore. But still. You get the idea right. I don't need that shit.

Its true i'm not 20 or 25 anymore and my life doesn't look the same. I don't look the same. My wishes and dreams have evolved as have my struggles and strengths. But for some things, I'd like to lean back into parts of me that I might have left behind. This is one of them. Simplicity. It's a core value and I'd like to hold on to it.

When me and A were about to get married, i told him I'm not very 'lady like', and am sort of a clumsy monkey at heart. And he said he wished and hoped that i would stay a monkey even after we got married and i wouldn't let the monkey drown amidst all the shit society throws at me. He probably doesn't even remember this conversation, but i do and so Project Monkey is on from today okay?

Project monkey sounds like a good name for a song i'd write. Now i almost want to write it.

I wanted this post to be about something else. I slept badly last night. I had a dream so elaborate and long, it felt like a Lord of the rings movie. I can't recall it right now but i do remember when i woke up i couldn't believe ALL that was just a dream. It was magnificent is all i'll say. I do impress myself I do.

I plan on having a good day today. I'll do some yoga. I'll study at a good pace. And sleep peacefully. 

Thanks.

Where the light don't shine.

Sitting on my bedroom floor last night,

the room quiet, the lights dim, hands warm, feet cold,

 in a stolen oversized t-shirt saying 'I refuse to sink',

not an ounce of makeup on my skin, hair let loose,

having Rice and Spice from KFC, 

about 50 colour pencils sprawled around me,

trying to pick the right greens and the right reds,

listening to Joe rogan talk about sleep and psychedelics

comfortable in my own company,

I thought to myself..

this is Me!

Just like the rest of what is me. 

And maybe i should write more about what is Me.

Tell my story in my own words. 

When i was a kid, We used to write essays in school

'My self' - it was titled. Beginning of every year we did that.

I said I like fish and chips. With Fanta. 

And badminton was my favourite. And reading books was my hobby.

i was gonna be a doctor. And open a hospital for poor people.

My mom told me to say that. The doctor bit.

I didn't write about how i hated cockroaches, 

and rude people, and scoring less than an A+.

Wow, i digress. 

I was just saying.

Maybe i wanna re-write the essay. 

Re tell the story.

Maybe I will.