To All Married Couples

This is in no way a stab at my own but rather a moment of anger following one too many stories of some rather unusual parenting!

Dear parents to be,

If you don’t have it in you to love unconditionally…
If you won’t treat all your kids equally…
If you won’t believe that your daughters are princesses and sons gentlemen and treat them on that basis…
If you can’t build them up and support them cause you yourself are too fragile…
If you won’t help them discover their dreams and go after them…
If you won’t be at most practices and every single tournament…
If you won’t take an active interest in their schooling…
If you won’t bother meet their friends and teammates and people of significance to them…
If you can’t be happy for their accomplishments…
If you have no intention of encouraging their artistic expression…
If you are going to treat them like a burden and spend your days tearing them down…
If you will value your money and excessive comfort over their own…
If you won’t invest in them…
If you won’t praise them in public and reprimend them in private…
If you won’t tell them every day how amazing they are and how much you love them…
If you won’t rave about them to your friends and introduce them with great pride as the stars that they are…
If you won’t support their choices in life…
If you won’t eventually warm up to their spouses and find it in you to visit their homes…

If the majority of these things are true; for the love of God… Don’t bother have kids!!!!

Garden City Dialogues

To She Who Shares a Name with an Earthly Heaven

Do you see this little tree growing out of the pavement? The one breaking out of the bricks, cutting its way through the cement and the concrete. See how small it is? See how stunted its growth? See how alone?

Her words paint a perfect picture of the reality, for the entire pavement expanse was clear short of that one solitary tree growing next to the wall of a garden. A small tough tree which had decided to grow, with no regard for the existence of the pavement or the resistance of the bricks.

A tree which will have to constantly fight to grow any bigger. A tree which will spend its whole life breaking through the pavement and pushing bricks out of the way. A tree, that was very much like her, unique, strong, ground-breaking, revolutionary, unquestionably one of a kind and incredibly blessed.

Do you see the garden on the other side of this fence? Do you see the trees growing in there? Do you see how huge they are? How effortless they grow?

This tree, the one leaning outside the fence, that is you. I’m the little tree growing out of the pavement. I’m going to grow, but I’m never going to become that tree on the other side of the fence. I’m never going to grow to that scale. The environment is not conducive to my growth.

I’m not like you. Nor am I like any of the other trees in your garden. Not better nor worse, just coming from a different location, facing different circumstances, making different choices.

I understand her logic. I am taken by the beauty of the analogy. Once again, the depth of her perception and personality have caught me off guard and I was dumbfounded and speechless.

I start to protest, to argue, to point out that she can walk on walls, that the sky is her limit, that she will grow magnificently. Raving on and on…

I fall silent finally.. looking at her standing tall and strong next to that tree that reminded her so much of herself.

I find myself unable and unwilling to believe, a strong and true sentiment, for you see:

To me, you’ll always be that big tree on the inside of the fence. You’ve always been that tree in my eyes.

…

Some Intro!!

Loss is a defining human experience. Nothing in the physical world lasts forever. Memory of what has been lost can be both ennobling and painful.

History teaches us that civilizations flourish, die and disappear. Sometimes they die swiftly, sometimes in a slow lingering death. And sometimes, as with Rome and others, echoes of that civilization find new life in later cultures.

~ Michael Hamilton Morgan

On Childhood Lessons

My Mom used to use this for educational and reformatory purposes all the time.

 

On Stardom

Six month ago, a human being far better and far more accomplished than I, called me up to chew me up. A wake up call was in order and the ensuing conversation was so overwhelming, so flattering and so embarrassing I was dumbstruck and emmed and hawwed the call away. She’d made the effort to call and remind me of how much potential I had and the extent to which it was getting wasted.

Now here, six month later, I’m wishing I had a recording of this speech, I’m wishing I could do the same for a special person in my life right now, one equally in need of a wake up call. Since no such recording exists I will attempt to replicate it from memory, avec a little customization to suit the young star.

So here goes; Juka style:

Do you know how rare it is for both sides of a person’s brain to be working so sensationally well? For someone to be logical, rational and with great business sense whilst being artistic and musical? Do you realize how wide your fabric is? How limitless your abilities? How much it is that you truly can do? Do you?!!

Do you know how often people come to me for feedback or advise? Do you realize how much effort I have to exert to find something encouraging and supportive to tell them? To find the good or the commendable about their effort, logic or output? Yet here you are with what unquestionably is some of the best output I’ve seen in years, an unfathomably amazing skill set, and yet no action whatsoever. Not the slightest bit of follow through.

Do you even realize how good you are? Do you recognize what you are capable of doing? If you don’t make the most of you, it will be a crying shame.

Ah, while we are at this, could friends and blog readers kindly tell the young lady in question that while I do see the best in everyone, I don’t go tossing around that kind of praise. That it takes a lot to impress me and agitate me to the extent that I’d bother publicly blog about it.

On the exhausting “too”

I can’t do it. No strike that, I can, I just don’t particularly feel the sincerest doing it, even in instances where I’m genuine and sincere. I don’t like it coming across as an automated response. I don’t want you registering that I said it just because you did. I need you to know that it is true. Even if the famed “too” response was not instant nor gratifying. Know because it is implied in every single action of my day, in the tone of my voice, in the look in my eyes and in my cursed word choices.

Hence for all it is worth, please don’t take it personally if I’m unable to respond to the following phrases with the fact that I “too” do:

• I miss you.
• I love you.
• I care.
• I admire you.
• I respect you.
• I thank the Lord for your existence.
• I appreciate you.

List isn’t exhaustive. Yet what holds for these probably holds for all variations of these.

I do care, I will miss you, I appreciate you more than words could say, but just can’t bring myself to say it right now.

I was told recently, in response to an “I’m here for you”, that this isn’t what my friend wanted, that it was an empty promise and that actions spoke way louder than words. Got me thinking if I’m an all talk and no action person. Figured I probably was when it came to my own dreams, but I’d like to think I don’t make people empty promises. We’ll have to wait and see.

Guitar Heroine

Heya mesh fattaka.. and a tad cliche.. but I can see it very clearly in my head.. the girl and the guitar and the hall… but whenever I try to put it into words it goes cliche on me..

She sat there at the centre of the empty stage absorbing her surroundings. The rows and rows of vacant plush brick red seats, the elevated ceilings and the giant archways holding it in place rendering the huge hall column-less. The scale of the emptiness around her brings an inner fulfilment.

She clutches tighter onto the vintage guitar between her hands as it rested on her lap. She traces her fingers slowly towards the proper starting hand positions, hugging the giant guitar further into her chest. Her right hand firmly holding on to the chords; mentally visualising the melody. Her left hand loosely hangs over the guitar, strumming virtual chords in the air. That hand finally coming down slowly and gracefully to hit that one note. The note reverberates in the empty hall rapidly filling the emptiness and brining the ancient hall to life.

The melody in her head now overtaking her completely, her hands move on their own accord, sliding and gliding across the cool wood of the guitar, warming up the strings and her heart. Hitting complex note after the other, the notes taking on a physical persona, floating upwards, breathing life into the entire hall, as for the duration of her song, the seats were occupied, the lights were bright, the clapping loud and wild.

She hits the final note tapping the strings and holding the guitar closer towards her own heart. She could smell the old rosewood, she could feel the history that this guitar held, the artists it encountered and the melodies it has strum. She opens her eyes to view the hall, now once again empty and lifeless, short of some final echoing notes shimmering audibly in the hall… a reminder of the magic that once was.

“This is so YOU”

I’ve been getting that a lot lately.. I’m not quite sure what they’ve qualified as “so me” but it is always an entertaining and amusing comment to receive.

Wondering what all of you would consider “sooo you”?

For those who actually know me, what would you say was “so Juka”?

It’s just a thought.. only a thought (8).. don’t mind me, have had that song running through my head all week.

On Deepest Fears

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves: Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone; and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Marianne Williamson

A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of “A Course in Miracles,” 1992

Hat-tip: Jessy K!

Verbal Chess

I often wonder if she can see it, if any of you innocent bystanders can see it, the chess board that seems to materialize out of thin air every time we start one of those endless conversations. Insane you say? Perhaps, but at times I can see it so clearly, so vibrantly, I can swear it had crossed that thin line between the reality in my head and the reality all of you are living and metamorphosed into existence.

I can see it very vividly, floating above our heads or between our bodies, occupying physical and psychological space. Oh and what a beautiful chess board it is, exquisite in its making perfect in its details. The mahogany wood frame, polished with a great deal of love, with an intricate pattern worked into its sides. Inside the frame, the vast expanse of checkers, I am always mesmerized by pattern, symmetry and all things so numerically perfect. I can’t help but be drawn by those little square marble inlays, laid down in that mahogany frame in alternating colour, a white marble square followed by a dark brick red one. The marble squares so perfect, so tightly fitted, so enticing to play.

Never ones to decline an invitation, soon our chess pieces make their way to the flawless board. White and black armies of words and concepts symbolised into pawns, knights and queens. We start to play, making statements, responding to questions, making queries and inquisitions, arguing and counter arguing. At first it is all second nature, simple and basic. Then as the conversation progresses and the game becomes more unique, we start the real verbal chess, thinking a move in advance, two moves, factoring in how we’d each respond to the other person’s response to our original words before uttering them.

You are thinking that my description sounds rather insincere and quite exhausting, but you are mistaken, it is more along the lines of mentally exhilarating. Our game progresses, becoming more difficult by the second, until we hit an impasse… we both realise that there is nowhere further that this conversation can go… we reach that realisation way before the conversation ends. Impassioned we violently clear the board sending the little marble pieces flying in different directions. Once again the board is clear. I enjoy the sensation of a cool empty board. The coolness of the now empty marble squares seems to diffuse the situation.

For the time being the board disappears, only to reappear with the next slightest hello.

Story of a Photo – CLEOFiction October Issue

Originally written on August 11, 2008 and posted here.

Re-posted in celebration of it making it in print See my name in lights in the October issue of CLEO.

Let me know what you think of the story.

Location: Rome

Time: Not too long ago.

She had gone to Rome to pursue her childhood dream of becoming a celebrated fashion designer. There she was finally in the fashion capital of the world only to discover that things were not quite that simple. It wasn’t a lack of inspiration per say, for Rome in it’s existence was quintessentially inspiring, the music of the morning market din, the serenity of the old churches, the intricate details in the architecture all around and the general aroma of great food that enveloped the ancient city. Then there was the Italians themselves, so sinfully good looking, so obsessed with Italy, with food, with fashion with all things of beauty. She was drawing like never before, filling up her portfolio with evening gowns and sleek suits and even scanty swim wear.

The process of allowing yourself to get discovered as the next Gucci, Versace or Armani was a long and cumbersome process. She had been turned away time and time again. She found the language both daunting and challenging and a handicap to her ability to communicate, to express herself, to present her collection. Also there was the minor issue of finances, she was close to depleting her finances and was in need of a source of income to sustain her as she fought on to realize her dream. She had gotten a day job waiting tables at a fancy café by the busy plaza. She watched the chatty tourists come and go, stopping for a bite, asking her to take pictures of them, wondering what a foreigner like her was doing working in Italy.It took every ounce of self confidence not to get disheartened, to believe that someday they will see her collection with an eye of appreciation, that they will recognize her talent, that she will become one of the icons of fashion in Italy and worldwide. She had taken to submitting updated collections regularly to most of the fashion houses in the area, in the hope they will take her in. She’d also submitted a regular CV in the hope of landing any career in the industry then working her way up. She’d gone on interviews, filled applications, started Italian classes all to no avail.

It was the end of one such tiring day that our weary heroine made her way to the closest bus station. She sat there on the bench running her day’s events through her head. Making mental notes of the tips she had collected and the outstanding payments she still had to make. Thinking of the new trends in fashion as witnessed or interpreted by her from the countless tourists and locals that passed by her every day. She sat on that bench waiting. Waiting for the bus. For her break. For things to go her way. For the big fashion house she’d gone for an interview in that morning to call. She just sat there… waiting.

Anonymity Bites The Dust

In case you had not picked up on this already, my name is Inji and I AM the Juka

I would tell you that I’m the girl on the blog, but am uniquely unqualified to do so. Perhaps those few readers who’ve shared java with me could help you out and weigh in on the issue.

On why I’m doing this? The International Who’s Who Historical Society have selected me for their 2009/2010 issue of the International Who’s Who for Professionals for “exemplary achievement and distinguished contributions to the business community” and I want to retain bragging rights!

P.S. Post altered to accommodate for sweet overprotective paranoia of best friend. *HUGS*.

On Gal Bladders

Thursday

Me: See you after Eid.

Boss: Actually we need to work on Tuesday, so you guys only get Sunday and Monday off.

Me: But Eid break is usually three days.

Boss: Hmm, still need you to work on Tuesday we have to move premises, so 9 am new premises.

Today

I interrupt my glorious stay in Alex, drive all the way back to Cairo, make my way to the new premises in Maadi only to receive a 8:30 am call from my subordinate telling me that he’s at the door and there are no signs of life. I tell him to call the boss.

Five minutes later my phone goes off.

Boss: Maykel’s at Maadi.

Me: Yes, as per your instructions. I’m on my way too.

Boss: The workers are not done yet.

Me: (feeling the gal bladder explosion coming on) So what does that mean?

Boss: I wish you had called me yesterday to confirm. I learned on SATURDAY that they are still a long way off. So take Maykel now and work from your house this week, we are hoping to move on Sunday.

Me: (taking in a really deep breath) So now we are to work from home today?

Boss: Yeah.

Me: (Hangs up).

COULD YOU BELIEVE THE NERVE OF SOME PEOPLE!!!

My poor poor gal bladder!!!!

Words My Father Told Me

In May 2006, my Daddy was turning 55. I’m big on customized gifts; I’m a writer; moreover, me and my dad are really tight.

Seeing that a relationship like ours (mine and my dads) warrants a unique gift; I had compiled words of wisdom my father has told me over the past 20 something years and which have played a major role in shaping my personality and made me the person I am today; had them photoshopped with a photo of him carrying a 3 year old Juka (contemplating sharing the picture) and framed.

Yesterday a chat session with superstar reminded me of the frame sitting on our piano. Thought I’d share.

Words my father told me:-

• The sky is your limit.

• Intelligence doesn’t happen by accident it’s the result of hard and organized WORK.

• Always treat others like you’d like to be treated.

• When you do something… do it right; for the lord loves those who seek to attain perfection in everything they do.

• Work hard…. Play harder.

• Life isn’t fair  (inside joke)

• When things don’t go your way; have faith in God’s infinite wisdom; you never know what’s around the corner.

• Question everything.

• The learning process knows no end, no matter what you learn it will come in handy someday.

• Everybody witnesses phenomena; genius is about perception, to see it in a light nobody else has seen it in.

• Respect yields even more respect.

• If we don’t agree we can at least be civil.

• The greatest gift in the world is the ability and the opportunity to help others, don’t ever underestimate that, don’t ever be ungenerous with your time or effort.

• There is no such thing as no time; there is good time management and then there’s what you are doing

• Dream huge, shoot for the moon, but always keep your feet firmly on the ground.

• Be yourself  :)

Daddy dearest, that was the list in 2006, funny thing is retyping it up now, I realised the extent to which I’m still learning! HUGS!

May your Good be Better and your Better be BLESSED!

Ibhog has decided to inject some Ramadan spirit into the blogosphere.

Taking a sweet and brave initiative he’s decided to share his blessings with us, asking us all to share some of ours.

Rules are posted on his blog to which I’ve linked above, if you happen to stop by here for mine, know that I would be very interested in reading yours. Consider yourselves implicitly tagged.

Lets get to it:

Praise the Lord! A huge Elhamdollelah.

• I am grateful for all the things I complain about all the time, for in being able to focus on such small things, I have realised that all the big tickets in my life are in order. Typical Maslow hierarchy of needs pyramid. So if your biggest problem is that you have not saved the world today, it follows that your basic needs are met, that you are fed, healthy, employed, loved, actualized etc.. and can afford to stress about that “Reminded”

• I am grateful for my parents, in their over-protectiveness, in their stifling over attentiveness. I am grateful that they are both alive and well, that they both care enough, that we are not your typical dysfunctional family, that I feel protected, safe and loved all day everyday. “Pampered”

• I am grateful for my sister and our small age difference. I am grateful for the friendship that binds us and the room we share. I am grateful for our insane and opposite styles and tastes. I am grateful for how she’s my rock who will always be there. I am grateful that I am hers! I am grateful for how well we understand each other and the fear that overtakes other Trump players and the classic “ekhwat la2!!!” “Happy”

• I am grateful for my car, even though it is for sale these days, cause it is time to move on. Yet I shall miss it, I owe it so much. I am freed from taxi cabs and begging rides of parents. It is my own bit of personal space on this planet, the only property that truly is mine. I am grateful for the rad built in stereo and the endless supply of music. I am grateful for the fact that it has never failed me and has tolerated seating 8 individuals, my Need for Speed driving, the Cairo heat, the long trips and being used as a make shift office. “Mine”

• I am grateful for my career. I hear people talking about their dream jobs, I am thankful that I have found mine after career hopping for 5 years. I hope I get to do this forever. I hope to some day do it for the biggest firms on the planet. Moreover, I dream of one day doing it under my own name, my very own business consultancy firm. “Actualised”

• I am grateful for my best friends, who have been there for me through thick and thin, who are spread out all over the globe but who are always a phone call and a plane trip away. I am grateful for the old ones and the new. I am grateful for how influential they have been in my life, how they’ve always driven me to be a better me, how they’ve made the good times great and the bad situations trivial. “Spoilt”.

• I am grateful for the gifts/talents the Lord has been generous enough to endow me with. I am thankful for the skills that I have not had to work hard at developing and for the creative elements which have enabled me to channel both positive and very negative energy over the years. I am grateful to my piano and my blog for keeping me sane and grounded, for enabling me to remain “nice” in the real world. “Blessed”

• I am grateful for all the things we usually don’t stop to ponder, the things that go without saying and which we take for granted. I am grateful for good health, a steady job, a roof above my head, food on our table, love in our hearts, education, choice, etc. “Contemplative”

• I am grateful for my cities, the locations I’ve lived in around the planet, for all the memories, all the trips, all the stamps in my passport, for all the friends I’ve made, the sights I’ve seen and the exposure. I am grateful for variety, diversity and cultures. I am grateful for all we have to learn and experience and how non-boring life can be. “Travel-bug bitten”

• Last but not least, I’m actually grateful for advances in technology. The Lord has been very generous with the brains he has given some of us. I am insanely grateful that Carrier invented the AC; that the internet is available to students, employees and slackers around the world; for trains, planes and automobiles. I’m basically very grateful for all our creature comforts. “Lazy”

Needless to say, you’re all tagged. Knock yourselves out!

On Getting Published

OK, those who know me know that it’s been on my new year resolution lists and on my bucket lists since 2005. This ambitious dream has met with some interesting setbacks, my inability to write anything longer than 10 pages, fact that I got bored easy, laziness, upon actual completion of something the difficulties of getting published in English in a city like Cairo. Publishing houses will tell you that people barely read, those who do, read Arabic, what little English people bother to buy must have been on the NY best seller list for a while.

This discouragement was the reason I started this blog, Ramblings of a Disoriented Mind, the name of the short story I had at the time. I’ve written others since, you’ll find a couple on this blog broken up in pieces and some of my closer friends have actually read a draft of a working progress of a novel. Their feedback has been generous, sweet, supportive and instrumental. I hope to someday have that story see the light.

Meanwhile, in the real world, established published authors are going through hell. I couldn’t fathom the extent of the damage, yet when an author feels frustrated and ripped off enough to throw a coup d’etat you know something is amiss.

Marwa Rakha has decided she has had it with it all and is making her book available for free online in a digital format. So for all of you who had read my review and were reluctant; for all those who couldn’t get their hands on a hard copy; for all who appreciate the ability to read off your monitors at work, here you go an easy access freebie! Download it, read it, let her know what you thought.

For more on how Arab writers are being mistreated see here.

To download Rakha’s book, click here.

Would love to know what you all think? To e-book or not to e-book? Are publishing houses obsolete? Would you pay for electronic media you could get for free?

If we gave up instant messaging,

digital social networking,  facebook and facebook equivalents…. would we still be friends?

This was an argument I had with a blogger friend a couple of weeks back.

Leading the insane schedules that we lead, spending more hours on our PCs than any other activity we do awake, the hecticness of the tempo of the century, one finds it easier to just lead a virtual social life. Reliant on that easy access and superficial connectivity to allegedly keep in touch with one another. To congratulate, condole or wish a happy birthday. To say hello, ask for a favour, get updates, give advise etc..

So once again, if I give up my msn and my facebook, would we still be friends? Would you still care? Would I see you as often? Speak to you as frequently?

Reason I’m asking is that I’m bored of it all, I miss the real deal. I like the humanity of people.. eye contact, body language.. the whole nine yards. I like their cynicism and random bursts of gossip.. I like how friends wink at me across a table full of friends. Was out with real live red blooded friends today and realised I’d rather have that over the internet any day.

My internet addiction has reached a point where I stop mid-sentence to ask people to insert a particular wink here!!

Let alone if your virtual relationships are with individuals you’ve never met in the real world oh the margin for atrocities is ridiculously wide. You see, online isn’t real; people are never 100% them.. nor 100% genuine because the temptation is always too high.. the temptation to create an alter ego.. a fake bigger better persona.. and be that instead..

Just a thought.

Ramadan Greetings

Ok, so I’m a couple of days behind on this, but yalla, here’s wishing you all a blessed holy month. May your fasting be tireless and your prayers answered.

For those of you suffering from java withdrawal symptoms, I totally feel for you!

On Citizenship

Meet Guitar Freak, the latest addition to my team.

A young engineering AUC graduate. The AUCians amongst you might recognize him. He was a brilliant IGCSE student, a talented guitarist, an active campaigner, a hit fund-raiser, king of the activities and overall nice guy on AUC campus. His versatile profile inspired his professors to nominate him to the KAUST (King Abdullah University of Science and Technology) Discovery Scholarship.

Following extensive screening, writing personal statements, sitting in for interviews and competing aggressively Guitar Freak was shortlisted for this scholarship. Following that, KAUST has paid his AUC tuition, a monthly stipend, gave him money for a state of the art laptop, etc.. Basically they have been making some serious investment in those chosen ones who were later to go study at KAUST for a masters degree.

Guitar Freak was cloud nine, he had his entire life mapped out for him and he felt happy with the direction it was going. Earlier this summer, his older brother, an ex-employee of mine gives me a distressed call from Italy. He asks if I once again was in a position where I needed engineers as part timers to work on a consultancy project over the summer? At the time I had nothing in the pipeline. He tells me that Guitar Freak is in shambles because he was told that he was not eligible for a postponement of military duty on account of that masters degree; that this particular article in the law applies only to those already studying abroad. That he had to wait in Egypt and find out whether or not he would get drafted, possibly getting drafted for up to 3 years.

As luck would have it, I did close a deal this summer and am currently working on it with Guitar Freak (didn’t bother interview anyone else). Needless to say the boy had a broken quality to him; one unusual at his age; but one which made perfect sense given the background. I could feel his tension, disappointment and frustration. He made countless efforts, knocked on doors, pulled strings and asked for favours; all to no avail.

Thursday he comes flying in, his feet barely touching the ground. Every ounce in his being screaming out with joy. He says “I have some good news and some bad news.” I smile, “You fixed it, you are leaving!”.

He nods emphatically, he starts telling me how after AUC intermediation to solve the boys’ problem had failed, the KSA parties decided to get involved. I’m unsure on the details of how things worked, but basically what I understood is that his Royal highness somehow interfered, the KSA ambassador in Egypt was involved, there were extensive negotiations with the Egyptian MFA and military. Finally the boys emerge with a “tasree7 saffar” i.e. a document allowing them to leave the country. Kindly note that they didn’t get exempted from military duty, it was just postponed till their return to Egyptian soil, if they ever do return.

I’m grinning from ear to ear at this point, partially infected by his own inner happiness, and partially because the cynic in me found it extremely amusing that the problems of Egyptians on Egyptian soil are being solved by the KSA government, wa 3agaby!

“So where is the bad news?” I ask him. “I’m leaving on Tuesday, so I feel bad about abandoning you mid project”. I mean seriously, how sweet is this boy?!! I assured him that I’d be fine, he offered to bring in a replacement. Meeting new guy on Sunday.

Juka’s Fave Quotes from “Devour, Plead, Adore” ;)

“I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.”

(On a personal level, that applies even in friendship and business)

“Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it.”

(Amen to that!)

“In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it’s wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices.”

(Some of them are reading.. so for all it is worth THANK YOU)

“You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight.”

(Message received)

“Time — when pursued like a bandit — will behave like one; always remaining one country or one room ahead of you, changing its name and hair color to elude you, slipping ou the back door of the motel just as you’re banging through the lobby with your newest search warrant, leaving only a burning cigarette in the ashtray to taunt you.”

(So much for burning daylight..)

“If I love you, I will carry for you all your pain, I will assume for you all your debts (in every definition of the word), I will protect you from your own insecurity, I will protect upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have never actually cultivated in yourself and I will buy Christmas presents for your entire family. I will give you the sun and the rain, and if they are not available, I will give you a sun check and a rain check. I will give you all this and more, until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else.”

(I can so see that happening.. )

“Still, despite all this, traveling is the great true love of my life. I have always felt, ever since I was sixteen years old and first went to Russia with my saved-up babysitting money, that to travel is worth any cost or sacrifice. I am loyal and constant in my love for travel, as I have not always been loyal and constant in my other loves. I feel about travel the way a happy new mother feels about her impossible, colicky, restless, newborn baby–I just don’t care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because it’s mine. Because it looks exactly like me. It can barf all over me if it wants to–I just don’t care.”

(I need a visa in my new passport.. I need a trip!)

“The Yogic sages say that all the pain of a human life is caused by words, as is all the joy. We create words to define our experience and those words bring attendant emotions that jerk us around like dogs on a leash. We get seduced by our own mantras (I’m a failure… I’m lonely… I’m a failure… I’m lonely…) and we become monuments to them. To stop talking for a while, then, is to attempt to strip away the power of words, to stop choking ourselves with words, to liberate ourselves from our suffocating mantras.”

(Forget words.. give in to music… still obsessing about learning the guitar)

This is the supreme lesson of karma ( and also of western psychology, by the way)- take care of the problem now, or else you’ll just have to suffer again later when you screw everything up the next time. And that repetition of suffering-that’s hell. Moving out of that endless repetition to a new level of understanding-there’s where you’ll find heaven.”

(Cat… tail.. chase… outgrew… FLAWED!)

“And what will I be able to do tomorrow that I cannot yet do today?”

(Response: On behalf of the Society of Procrastinators Anonymous.. LOL)

“I can help them. I am so equipped to help. All the antennas I’ve ever sprouted throughout my lifetime that have taught me how to read what people are feeling, all the intuition I developed growing up as the supersensitive younger child, all the listening skills I learned as a sympathetic bartender and an inquisitive journalist, all the proficiency of care I mastered after years of being somebdy’s wife or girlfriend – it was all accumulated so that I could help ease these good people into the difficult task they’ve taken on.”

(Reminds me of a friend.)

“Tutti in Italian means Everybody…….. So that’s the final lesson isn’t it? When you set out in the world to help yourself, you inevitably end up helping Tutti.”

(Adam Smith flashbacks)

“If you tell me slowly, I can understand quickly”.

(I’m sorry?)

Overall… a slow read but has some moments of brilliance! Go check it out.