Why are you chewing gum?!!

I was stuck in traffic the other day, and a man took this opportunity to yell at me from across his rolled down car window bellying “It’s Ramadaaaan.” Yes, this stranger is talking to me!

He was letting me know that it is Ramadan because I was chewing gum while driving.

Ladies and gentlemen, where do I begin with this whole over-zealous holy populace? If I were chain smoking death on a stick, no one would let me know that I was killing myself, but this man, felt that it was his duty as a good Muslim to stop me from disrespecting the fasting folk. Now, maybe I would have let this one slide, but over the last week, I was lectured by some women on the subject of Hijab and how my dressing like the ‘devil’ would not serve me well in my grave. Let me back up a little, I was at my aunt’s home offering my condolences to her for the loss of her husband. Unbeknownst to me, I found myself in the middle of a religious Dars. I’m confused, I do not live in Saudi, nor do I live in Iran, but for some reason, Jordanians are sounding more and more like people I do not recognize. What happened to moderate Jordanians? Where are they hiding?

I will continue to chew my gum…and I wish that I had blown a bubble in response to this man’s insulting commentary. That’s not the sort of person my parents brought me up to be, but in light of the current covert and overt indoctrination that is going on around me, I chose to blow bubbles at anyone who invades my personal relationship with God.

Sentimental things...

Every so often, my family gathers around a tattered box of letters that my sister Dina keeps safe up in the attic and only brings down when my brothers and sister are in town. There are five of us you see, and we have all lived apart in different countries. At least we now live in the same region, but there was a time, when we were scattered across NY, Jordan, Dubai, and England. WE - the global folk - try to connect as often as work and life allows. And when we are in Jordan, we gather at my sister’s house.
On a typical afternoon, you can find us in the garden, swinging under the leafy tree, sipping on tea with fresh mint leaves, or the “good” coffee as my sister calls her fancier Austrian coffee bean. Sometimes, when we are in a sentimental mood, my sister brings down the old box of letters that we used to mail each other and we read them out loud and laugh – the kind of laugh that comes from the belly.
These are old relics from that magical age called childhood. They are hand written letters that are falling apart from being loved up, read and re-read. We love the past in all its glory. Part of the past is not just the narrative of the tales, but it’s in the hand written style and font, the drawings, the decorations of hearts and arrows…it’s really the flavour and scent of a more innocent and simpler time.
It feels good to look back and reminisce on stories of by gone times. The days when I used to write letters to my family right before lights out in boarding school; when my brother would write letters from his summer camp; my sister would send post cards from her adventures…and it’s the envelope that is also interesting, the stamp on it, the date, the address…the whole affair is an invitation to pause and smile. Letters are just so special because they are personal.
Being me, it got me thinking about emails and how we communicate nowadays. Email is fantastic, so I won’t even dare knock it. All I’m saying is that I miss the act of writing letters and receiving them. I even miss the post man – what happened to post-men? Has anyone seen one lately? There is something utterly romantic about opening a letter that you know crossed oceans and continents and exchanged a million hands just to get to YOU. Someone out there took the time out to sit down, THINK, and tell you something weighty and important. You waited and waited…remember waiting? I miss waiting. Everything is so instant now (thank god, because I’m impatient – I never said I was consistent in my thoughts so don’t go all up in my pants…! I am allowed to wants two things!) …so I love emailing, and just wish people continued writing letters. Why must we give up one thing to do another? I think letters are grand, and I would like to go and buy some nice paper and write a letter to someone special.

Aren’t letters grand!

Every day cannot be a feast of lanterns

My sister Dina just came back from China, and she brought back with her some ancient wisdom packaged in a book on Chinese proverbs. The Chinese believed that Sour, sweet, bitter, and pungent, must all be tasted in the journey of life.

In English, it means that there is a variety of days…the good, the bad and the ugly.

Now…people…how is it that an intelligent person such as myself  get astonished when every so often I am faced with the notorious “bad day.” Surely, every day can not, and should not be a feast of lanterns! I know this, and everyone I know, knows this, but still, today I stand surprised.

I am feeling gloomy. I shall spare you the reason, suffice it to say that today is a gloomy day.

The good news is that I am tasting the journey of life.

On feeling spunky with yourself…

People. I’ve been feeling so cool lately and I owe it to my new found lust-affair with my Nikon camera. If you ever feel uninspired or like you lost your sparkle, then I suggest you go get yourself a nice camera – the kind that photographers use when on an African voyage!! It will cost you a pretty penny, but I tell you, it will be worth every cent because the feeling you will get when shooting is utterly marvellous.

I bought my Nikon right before moving back to Jordan. I had it in mind to some day take photograph lessons because I felt like I would be someone who would ultimately enjoy this as a hobby. Let’s back up a little, I wanted a hobby, a diversion from everyday mundane-ness because I knew that I would be spending a lot of time alone, and I also knew that Jordan is a beautiful country that I wanted to explore. What better to do with my lonesome self when on a date with Jordan? Surely, photograph it!

It’s such a nice hobby to adopt because it has the power to transform everyday ordinariness to awe-inspiring moments. Take for example the other morning, I was driving to work, and I crossed the modern bridge that connects east and west Amman. Ordinarily – pre-Nikon days, I would cross it hurriedly, but post-Nikon, the crossing off of it carried more significance because now the picture is richer. I started noticing how the light reflects off of it, and felt a sudden need to stop the car, get out, and snap away. I can’t tell you how cool it all felt. From the A to the Zed of it all. Having a camera adds meaning and consequence to the moment. Kind of like a blog – writing and photographing – you have the power to immortalize and celebrate the moment.

So off you go…go on!…
Put your feet in your shoes,
And pennies in your wallet.
You have faces and spaces to take places!

And if that fails to make you feel cool, then go to your wardrobe, pull out your cowboy boots and wear them! That always works for me.

How do you get jiggy with it?

Music Master ~ Rumi

The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.

~ Rumi

Welcome to the Vortex

We all have our own vortexes. A vortex is a state of ‘being.’ It is a departure from the self. You might think that I am talking psychobabble, and you may not be far from the truth – but it is ‘a little’ true, I have investigated this! We all have moments were we detach from reality and go some place more magical. I think I am lucky – knock on wood! – but I have many of those moments where I suddenly find myself a little out of reality. A LITTLE. I get a moment that is brushed with enchantment. Those moments come to me when I am having a great conversation with an old friend; when I’m out in nature and butterflies flutter around me I feel like I’m in wonderland; and of course, that old and exquisite feeling you get when you are sitting with your partner. When the vortex happens, I know it is happening because all of a sudden it is as if hundreds of infinitesimal sparkles fill the air between me and my sweetheart, like a pull, I am drawn by invisible strings. I want to hold onto the vortex for as long as possible, but just as it spontaneously comes, it disappears. It is so fleeting in nature. I wish I could bottle it, but it can’t be bottled. So instead, I’m writing about it.

Two is better than one – note to self!

One is a very good number. One ice cream, one thought, one moment… but I am in a ‘two’ state of mind. Life is far kinder and funner when it is done in ‘pairs’. A solitary walk in the park is therapeutic, digging ravenously into the third raw of Oreo cookies alone is deliciously gratifying, but doing the same things along with the one you love just elevates the whole affair to a whole other level. While I am someone who loves spending time with my freewheeling self, I do love being part of a ‘pair.’ I am not saying anything new here, we all know that having a partner in this life is better than going it alone, and health experts concur - this is just a ‘note to self’ to acknowledge that life is that much more pleasurable when traveled in twos. Now you have 4 feet to take you further, 4 eyes to see beyond, 2 brains to think up more ideas, 2 hearts to carry the burdens…the bigger the range, the further the reach, and the more the possibilities. (hello world!)

All juiced out …and good to go again!

All juiced out …and good to go again!

I’m all juiced out. I feel like I have been pitted, shredded and squished. I started out like a fresh lemon this morning, all shiny and perky, and as the day progressed at work, the only thing lemony about me now is my color! This is the feeling of being worn out. I have stretched my brain in so many different directions and boy does that feel good!

 At one point in my not so distant past, I considered relinquishing my civil responsibility as a working human being. I simply did not want to be a career woman. Where have all those jazzy careers led us anyways? (but that’s another blog), anyhow, in that moment in time, I needed to be home - alone with my thoughts to sit and re-group after a challenging year living through the financial crisis that brought Dubai down to its knees – and me along with it! I wanted to wake up slowly, watch my percolator drip and inhale the fresh aroma of my nice coffee. I wanted to wander out into my lovely balcony, water my plants unhurriedly and generally spend the day migrating from one room to the other…I am not someone who gets bored you see, and dropping my career for all this free time didn’t seem like a crazy idea. 

Ironically, as much as I needed to stay out of the lime light, life happened -- as it always does -- and I was pushed to full exposure with my new job. Ohh… how I struggled with that…. I so needed to be alone, but now I’m with everyone.

As it would be…being with everyone isn’t as bad as its all cracked out to be. Take away office politics and a few miserable characters around me, I’m finding my confidence again. Working gets you out of the house – you have a destination that requires you to get going. It’s the interaction with people, social exercising your character, and engaging yourself with new concepts that keeps you fresh! To stay fresh like the lemon– ironically – requires that we get all juiced out sometimes. Twisted logic J

Heightened awareness

You do not know this, but ever since I published this blog a few days ago, I went through a metamorphosis. At first, I was beyond myself with excitement at the thought of writing to the world (yes! it is a big deal!). Then the excitement transformed into bewilderment when people questioned why I want to write. And then, at some point over the weekend, I also felt a pang of pressure (I need to blog, and I need to blog about something cool).

Let’s settle this right now - I do not know exactly why I blog, and I will not be cool. I will just be me. And you will be you. And we will all sit together in this virtual space and blog unabashedly to our hearts content!

Now that this is off my chest, let me tell you how colorful my world has become post-blogging. In my pre-blog days, I went through the day collecting info: visuals, colors, sounds, smells, stories…I would ruminate and marinate them all in my head, and chew on them with my best friends and family. The difference now, is that my level of awareness is on super drive. This means that a flower is no longer a flower. simply –because- I have to write about it. Putting thoughts into words is such a pleasurable process. Things that I see or experience can now be immortalized in this space. What a novel idea to me?!! A flower that I passed yesterday is no longer a ‘passing moment of pleasure’, but an extended pleasurable moment because I get to think about it, describe it, and possibly get feedback on it from people half way across the globe.

Writing = extension of pleasure!

Amani & my new ritual

I usually go running in Weibdeh. Weibdeh is the oldest cute little town in Amman. It is called the mountain of sleep because it is so tranquil. We don't have traffic lights, just small windy roads that are sprinkled with run down homes that are inhabited by a majority christian community. While the rest of Amman experienced growth and expansion, this little nook of the city remains somewhat untouched. You still have the old antique stores and fruit markets, hole in the wall liquor stores, old fashioned dry cleaners (who still use steam irons - if you have never seen one, its a bulky iron that has a coil that is connected to the ceiling!). No new comers to this corner...so for the most part, my neighbors are older. If you are wondering why I moved here, well, its because I love quiet little neighborhoods where people still greet each other in the streets.

To the dismay of many in my family, I go running in my neighborhood which is considered a 'faux pas' because it is conservative. (My apartment lies in between 2 churches and a mosque - all in 1km!). But I love to run here. I run past the church and the guards who know me by now; past young boys who play football in the middle of the street (who I know run after me - and I let them); by an old furniture store - were they spray paint the furniture on the side walk and I often have to stop breathing the toxins!! I run and I run and finally reach a charming tiny town within the town. I like that part because it has an old stair case - some 100 steps or more that connects the lower poorer part of town to the upper more affluent streets. I hold my breath and mentally psyche myself up to run up and down those steps and the challenge is to do so without pausing.

For the longest time whenever I get to those steps, i would see this little 6 year old girl with a braided pony tail sitting on the steps. I say "salamu aliakum' to her and she twists and twirls in shyness. How cute!

After a few days of silently gazing, I decided to meet her mother - because after all - I am running in their backyard and out of courtesy I must introduce myself. Two worlds collide. The mother is wearing the Muslim headscarf, and I, my Niki stretch pants and ipod. So I introduced myself and explained to them why I run up and down like a maniac, and told Amani to put on her running shoes and join me. Funny, the mother did not object at all! This conservative woman would allow her daughter to run wild with this clearly liberated woman - me!

You should have seen the elation on Amani's face. Big wide smile from ear to ear at the prospect of running with me! with me?!! It is I who should be happy....so Amani and I started our little ritual. I meet her around 6.30 on the steps and we run up and down (6-7 times now to allow enough time for our little chats). The lovliest part is that i find her standing outside her home, ready with her shoes on. When she sees me she runs to tell her mom "she came!!"...no introductions needed...I am "she", and the whole household knows about me!

Yesterday I ran in a different part of town with my sister Dina, and I missed Amani, and I feel guilty...she probably stood there waiting...

Why did I write this blog? I guess to remind everyone out there to make room for chance encounters with random people. Amani is a treat. One of those thousands of passing encounters in life. Those are the moments that add color to an otherwise event less day.

random inspiration « the happy home

random inspiration « the happy home

Welcome to me!

I'm welcoming myself to the world! I have no idea if I'm writing into the abyss, or if anyone out there would ever see this :) but I have to say, I feel liberated already! I can run wild and free with my thoughts. How lovely it is to express oneself freely. This will be an exploration of so much, most obvious to me is my online identity (will I be the same online, or will I find myself exaggerating loves and interests... I wonder and feel excited to explore this notion). Funny thing, we go online to the public space to explore our private space!