I was a seed, enduring many a 'death', planted in damp soil, germinating because of 'heat'. Then I sprouted; no mulching was done, and i was watered by the pounding rain...the vagaries of weather relentlessly sought to destroy me, the scorching sun seeking to leave me withered. But somehow I grow. I endure and I grow. My roots grow ever deeper, reaching dark places engorged with water. They permeate rocks and pebbles, slowly but surely carving out a pathway for my lifeline. Outside there's no shift, but underneath, my roots are fortified. Twill take me 'seven years' to grow but once I start to, only the morning mist will touch me. See I'm a bamboo plant, that is my growth cycle, confounding yes, but true none the less.
Tuesday, 27 March 2012
Sunday, 22 January 2012
Until that day comes
Many times when I reminisce about my past, the one common thread that
seems to pop up is fear. For some reason, fear seems to have been the
commonality that is pervasive in every sphere of my life. And as I age, I
seem to find that that fear grows in leaps and bounds and can be
terrifying, nay crippling at times, if not nipped in the bud.
I am slowing learning that in order to starve my fear; I have to feed my faith. But for some reason, my fear’s appetite is voracious to say the least, and I give in to binging one too may times, then wonder why I cant step up to the challenge when “big” opportunities present themselves. But it does help to remind myself that fear is actually the acronym f.e.a.r, false evidence appearing real.
So a couple of weeks ago, someone updated their Facebook status with the lyrics to Natasha Bedingfileld’s masterpiece “unwritten”. The song in a nutshell, basically reiterates the mantra that today is the first of the rest of your life, that this is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten.
I started to ponder on those words, and slowly by slowly they became alive to me. I had sung that song myriad times, but had never really paid attention to it. I guess I was too pre-occupied with hitting those notes correctly that the message literally got lost in translation. Well that day, I had a wake up call, it’s as if I was destined to find these words again, and they have become a beacon of sorts to me, a lighthouse in the stormy seas of life raging.
I am learning what it means to yield to the now, appreciating that in as much as its fantastic and more so imperative that I take stock of my past mistakes and missteps, if I don’t take them as lessons learned as opposed to me burned, then I miss the whole point of a test being the fountain of the river aptly named testimony.
Appreciating everyday as it comes is no child’s play. This world seeks to cumber us with worries that make us pray for alleviation as opposed to bigger shoulders. But every test that comes, it comes to prepare us. And everyday is a silent reminder that we can be strong, hold on, breathe again. Yes, I just quoted one of my favorite male artistes, Kanji.
So today, and everyday, I wanna say when I wake up, that yesterday is gone, and tomorrow is unknown, but today, I shant be forlorn. Whatever is good, whatever is lovely, whatever is pure, I want to meditate on those things. I’m choosing to believe that what has bypassed my hands was not meant for me, and that whoever left, was not meant to stay. I am choosing to believe that greater things are yet to come, that the potential inside of me is gold that shall one day bring me before kings and great men.
Consequently, I am choosing not to dwell on the past, but to channel my energies into growth. I want to grow, I want to be the piece de resistance that once unveiled leaves all and sundry gazing at it’s beauty, dazzled. I have made a choice to better my “talents’, be they writing, singing, speaking. I have come to the realization that while I may pale in comparison to the talents of the greats of this world, there many others who can’t hold a candle to me.
And such is life; there are giants and ants, humans and mountains. While ants may cower at the sight of humans, their bite causes discomfort. And while giants strike terror into the hearts of men, mountains laugh in jest should giants challenge them to a duel. But the one that towers majestically above them all is the sky.
While my analogy may seem a little farfetched, it is laden with life lessons worth amassing. Do not compare yourself and become despondent, but let your “giants” be the barometers by which you measure your progress. You will in due time realize that you have enough skill and experience (tajriba) to slay these giants, that is the beauty of life.
Enough with waxing lyrical, I hope that this note makes your brave hearts rise to the occasion. Every battle is just that. Many battles may be lost but it’s the war that you must focus on. Collect your “ammunition”, get artillery, strengthen your cavalry. In essence what I’m saying is, embrace everyday, as a chance to know more, learn more, be more. Haba na haba hujaza kibaba, so goes the old adage. Be not afraid, your time will come. Though it tarries, it will surely come.
Kibali
I am slowing learning that in order to starve my fear; I have to feed my faith. But for some reason, my fear’s appetite is voracious to say the least, and I give in to binging one too may times, then wonder why I cant step up to the challenge when “big” opportunities present themselves. But it does help to remind myself that fear is actually the acronym f.e.a.r, false evidence appearing real.
So a couple of weeks ago, someone updated their Facebook status with the lyrics to Natasha Bedingfileld’s masterpiece “unwritten”. The song in a nutshell, basically reiterates the mantra that today is the first of the rest of your life, that this is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten.
I started to ponder on those words, and slowly by slowly they became alive to me. I had sung that song myriad times, but had never really paid attention to it. I guess I was too pre-occupied with hitting those notes correctly that the message literally got lost in translation. Well that day, I had a wake up call, it’s as if I was destined to find these words again, and they have become a beacon of sorts to me, a lighthouse in the stormy seas of life raging.
I am learning what it means to yield to the now, appreciating that in as much as its fantastic and more so imperative that I take stock of my past mistakes and missteps, if I don’t take them as lessons learned as opposed to me burned, then I miss the whole point of a test being the fountain of the river aptly named testimony.
Appreciating everyday as it comes is no child’s play. This world seeks to cumber us with worries that make us pray for alleviation as opposed to bigger shoulders. But every test that comes, it comes to prepare us. And everyday is a silent reminder that we can be strong, hold on, breathe again. Yes, I just quoted one of my favorite male artistes, Kanji.
So today, and everyday, I wanna say when I wake up, that yesterday is gone, and tomorrow is unknown, but today, I shant be forlorn. Whatever is good, whatever is lovely, whatever is pure, I want to meditate on those things. I’m choosing to believe that what has bypassed my hands was not meant for me, and that whoever left, was not meant to stay. I am choosing to believe that greater things are yet to come, that the potential inside of me is gold that shall one day bring me before kings and great men.
Consequently, I am choosing not to dwell on the past, but to channel my energies into growth. I want to grow, I want to be the piece de resistance that once unveiled leaves all and sundry gazing at it’s beauty, dazzled. I have made a choice to better my “talents’, be they writing, singing, speaking. I have come to the realization that while I may pale in comparison to the talents of the greats of this world, there many others who can’t hold a candle to me.
And such is life; there are giants and ants, humans and mountains. While ants may cower at the sight of humans, their bite causes discomfort. And while giants strike terror into the hearts of men, mountains laugh in jest should giants challenge them to a duel. But the one that towers majestically above them all is the sky.
While my analogy may seem a little farfetched, it is laden with life lessons worth amassing. Do not compare yourself and become despondent, but let your “giants” be the barometers by which you measure your progress. You will in due time realize that you have enough skill and experience (tajriba) to slay these giants, that is the beauty of life.
Enough with waxing lyrical, I hope that this note makes your brave hearts rise to the occasion. Every battle is just that. Many battles may be lost but it’s the war that you must focus on. Collect your “ammunition”, get artillery, strengthen your cavalry. In essence what I’m saying is, embrace everyday, as a chance to know more, learn more, be more. Haba na haba hujaza kibaba, so goes the old adage. Be not afraid, your time will come. Though it tarries, it will surely come.
Kibali
Music has taught me
Music has taught me,
That a note might seem hard today,
But if you sing it daily,
It becomes easier with every tomorrow,
Music has taught me,
When you don’t know what to say,
Just sing it,
And you’ll release your joy or sorrow,
Music has taught me,
That though many people have this gift,
The difference is,
How we express it,
Music has taught me,
That just like in life I need to breathe,
If I wanna sing,
With ease
Music has taught me,
That I can be great
If I believe in myself,
And let my light shine,
Music has taught me
That for me to grow,
I have to ‘slay’ greater vocal giants constantly,
It’s the only way to be pro,
Music has taught me,
That to sing a song’s pitch perfectly,
I need to hear it,
And listen intently,
For every melody,
Has a distinct harmony,
That can be sang effortlessly,
When my mind listens closely,
Music still teaches me,
That a vessel so intangible,
Can carry so much emotion,
And change the world around me,
And I am learning,
To channel the impossible,
That a song is but a vision,
Greater than me.
Kibali
That a note might seem hard today,
But if you sing it daily,
It becomes easier with every tomorrow,
Music has taught me,
When you don’t know what to say,
Just sing it,
And you’ll release your joy or sorrow,
Music has taught me,
That though many people have this gift,
The difference is,
How we express it,
Music has taught me,
That just like in life I need to breathe,
If I wanna sing,
With ease
Music has taught me,
That I can be great
If I believe in myself,
And let my light shine,
Music has taught me
That for me to grow,
I have to ‘slay’ greater vocal giants constantly,
It’s the only way to be pro,
Music has taught me,
That to sing a song’s pitch perfectly,
I need to hear it,
And listen intently,
For every melody,
Has a distinct harmony,
That can be sang effortlessly,
When my mind listens closely,
Music still teaches me,
That a vessel so intangible,
Can carry so much emotion,
And change the world around me,
And I am learning,
To channel the impossible,
That a song is but a vision,
Greater than me.
Kibali
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
We mend again
Narrations and novels,
Paint an epic story so untrue,
The plot seems seamless,
Painting a picture perfect you,
The mistakes you make,
Make you a hero eventually,
And the hearts you break,
Yearn for you foolishly
Well welcome to reality,
We mend again after breaking,
We move on, then we hate you,
And we wish we were zain,
Then we wake up one morning,
And realize you ain’t worth it,
Then we erase every memory
That made you our reality,
We mend again
Stage plays and movies,
Make you seem invincible,
You are the angel and the demon,
That dwells in a crucible,
Yet your fire so burns us,
Leaving smouldering ashes that are miscible,
With the sick twisted love for you inside us,
That woulda left us so gullible,
Well welcome to reality,
We mend again after breaking,
We move on, then we hate you,
And we wish we were zain,
Then we wake up one morning,
And realize you ain’t worth it,
Then we erase every memory
That made you our reality,
We mend again
What the rain doesn’t wash away remains,
What the water doesn’t cleanse are stains,
What the soul feels as it gets over you are growing pains,
For eventually we mend again…We mend again
Kibali
Paint an epic story so untrue,
The plot seems seamless,
Painting a picture perfect you,
The mistakes you make,
Make you a hero eventually,
And the hearts you break,
Yearn for you foolishly
Well welcome to reality,
We mend again after breaking,
We move on, then we hate you,
And we wish we were zain,
Then we wake up one morning,
And realize you ain’t worth it,
Then we erase every memory
That made you our reality,
We mend again
Stage plays and movies,
Make you seem invincible,
You are the angel and the demon,
That dwells in a crucible,
Yet your fire so burns us,
Leaving smouldering ashes that are miscible,
With the sick twisted love for you inside us,
That woulda left us so gullible,
Well welcome to reality,
We mend again after breaking,
We move on, then we hate you,
And we wish we were zain,
Then we wake up one morning,
And realize you ain’t worth it,
Then we erase every memory
That made you our reality,
We mend again
What the rain doesn’t wash away remains,
What the water doesn’t cleanse are stains,
What the soul feels as it gets over you are growing pains,
For eventually we mend again…We mend again
Kibali
Be-you-tiful
If you could turn back the hands of time, what would you un-do? If you
could change something about you, what would you change? Do you
unconditionally love, accept all of who you are warts and all?
These are questions that when asked without much pondering, people shoot from the hip answers galore without really considering the weight behind them.
These are questions that when asked without much pondering, people shoot from the hip answers galore without really considering the weight behind them.
Here’s the first disclaimer of the day, I would change tonnes! I have a
long list of things that would undergo a snip here, a tuck there, till
I’m at the periphery of perfection. And I would be happy, seemingly. But
has anyone except me noticed that happiness is fleeting, fickle and
ephemeral if we care to get down and dirty with the queen’ lingo?
It always needs a new high, a new fix, the old just won’t do. Be content with the clothes we have? Banish the thought! Not when Gucci, Prada or whichever other designer of repute still breathes oxygen and spews fabulosity we tell ourselves.
And we incessantly pick at and fault our outer shell, saying if this was there and that was no where, we’d be the epitome of perfection, the abode of contentment, the transcript of tranquility. But if you look closely, many of those who’ve achieved their dreams with the notion that once they get to them they’ll find happiness, end up being disillusioned.
So what pray tell are we to do to become content, happy, find the ever elusive feeling of serenity?
Be-you-tiful!
Huh? Yeah, be you, do you, rock you! So we’ve heard it ad-nauseam that should we start to be at peace with who we are, then peace shall come to us, that it’s become an old record that irks as much as it teaches!
But really, isn’t that the key? We try and unlock the secret to happiness; forgetting happiness is what we feel because of circumstances, whereas JOY is what we possess in spite of our circumstances.
Nobody says accepting all of who you are is the elixir to all your problems, there’s no magical cure here, all it does is pre-empt life’s ability to bring you down when emotions start their ebb and flow.
So again I ask you, what do you hate about yourself? What would you change? What past mistakes would you erase if you had the power to?
I’m learning to see experience as an account of lessons learned, from situations where I was burned. Because of what I know now, there are pitfalls I can avoid, and I’m better placed to handle bigger challenges, and fight more ferocious giants.
One of my favorite sayings states that the warrior is a child, nothing more. All he is, is an amalgamation of trainings, strengths, challenges he’s overcome, battles he’s both won and lost, scars, broken bones, feelings of inferiority, but most of all, a conquering spirit. So before you go on and jot down your list of flaws you’d want to erase, remember that knowledge begets knowledge, what you are now, is but a result of yesterday’s pain that you lived through. Go on, love yourself, smile at your reflections, love the sound of your voice, or the look of your scars though unsightly, at you are here to glow under the sun’s rays. Be-you-tiful.
It always needs a new high, a new fix, the old just won’t do. Be content with the clothes we have? Banish the thought! Not when Gucci, Prada or whichever other designer of repute still breathes oxygen and spews fabulosity we tell ourselves.
And we incessantly pick at and fault our outer shell, saying if this was there and that was no where, we’d be the epitome of perfection, the abode of contentment, the transcript of tranquility. But if you look closely, many of those who’ve achieved their dreams with the notion that once they get to them they’ll find happiness, end up being disillusioned.
So what pray tell are we to do to become content, happy, find the ever elusive feeling of serenity?
Be-you-tiful!
Huh? Yeah, be you, do you, rock you! So we’ve heard it ad-nauseam that should we start to be at peace with who we are, then peace shall come to us, that it’s become an old record that irks as much as it teaches!
But really, isn’t that the key? We try and unlock the secret to happiness; forgetting happiness is what we feel because of circumstances, whereas JOY is what we possess in spite of our circumstances.
Nobody says accepting all of who you are is the elixir to all your problems, there’s no magical cure here, all it does is pre-empt life’s ability to bring you down when emotions start their ebb and flow.
So again I ask you, what do you hate about yourself? What would you change? What past mistakes would you erase if you had the power to?
I’m learning to see experience as an account of lessons learned, from situations where I was burned. Because of what I know now, there are pitfalls I can avoid, and I’m better placed to handle bigger challenges, and fight more ferocious giants.
One of my favorite sayings states that the warrior is a child, nothing more. All he is, is an amalgamation of trainings, strengths, challenges he’s overcome, battles he’s both won and lost, scars, broken bones, feelings of inferiority, but most of all, a conquering spirit. So before you go on and jot down your list of flaws you’d want to erase, remember that knowledge begets knowledge, what you are now, is but a result of yesterday’s pain that you lived through. Go on, love yourself, smile at your reflections, love the sound of your voice, or the look of your scars though unsightly, at you are here to glow under the sun’s rays. Be-you-tiful.
Kibali
I'll be the song
You dismissed me,
Never envisioned what I could be,
You just saw the entity,
Were so oblivious to the possibility,
That inside this earth,
Lies treasures untold,
And when you finally realize my worth,
You’ll regret picking zinc over gold,
But until then,
I’ll stare at this computer screen
Till the words come pouring,
I’ll paint you a scene,
Of a dreamer that’s roaring,
I’ll use poetry,
And let you work out it’s meaning,
That someday I’ll be the song,
You’ll never stop singing
Never envisioned what I could be,
You just saw the entity,
Were so oblivious to the possibility,
That inside this earth,
Lies treasures untold,
And when you finally realize my worth,
You’ll regret picking zinc over gold,
But until then,
I’ll stare at this computer screen
Till the words come pouring,
I’ll paint you a scene,
Of a dreamer that’s roaring,
I’ll use poetry,
And let you work out it’s meaning,
That someday I’ll be the song,
You’ll never stop singing
Right now all I am is ore,
Smelting never did take a day,
But what is in store,
Is the grass life has turned into hay,
In me there’s so much more,
But I’m glad that us asunder,
You tore,
This you’ll never plunder,
But until then
I’ll stare at this computer screen
Till the words come pouring,
I’ll paint you a scene,
Of a dreamer that’s roaring,
I’ll use poetry,
And let you work out it’s meaning,
That someday I’ll be the song,
You’ll never stop singing,
And I’ll be your lullaby,
I’ll be the melody that soothes you to sleep,
Yet when the morning sun kisses your eyes,
I’ll be the dream you can never keep…
Smelting never did take a day,
But what is in store,
Is the grass life has turned into hay,
In me there’s so much more,
But I’m glad that us asunder,
You tore,
This you’ll never plunder,
But until then
I’ll stare at this computer screen
Till the words come pouring,
I’ll paint you a scene,
Of a dreamer that’s roaring,
I’ll use poetry,
And let you work out it’s meaning,
That someday I’ll be the song,
You’ll never stop singing,
And I’ll be your lullaby,
I’ll be the melody that soothes you to sleep,
Yet when the morning sun kisses your eyes,
I’ll be the dream you can never keep…
Kibali
Man-trum
It’s no secret I love Facebook, heck I’ve even written an article
touting it’s benefits before. Against the grain seemingly, I stuck it
out and swarm against the tirades when everyone in my office kept
tearing it to shreds. I was the only one who saw it’s benefits, keeping
friendships alive while reconnecting with old ones. For the unsocial
ones like me, it helped me make new friends when I moved back to Mombasa
after twelve years of being away.
Therefore it irks me when people come to my computer screen and all they see is Facebook, irrespective of the fact that I could be having four other tabs open. Sure, I chat when there’s someone online, but that’s because I really am great at multi-tasking.
I’m a weird blend of characteristics, I can be quite chatty when I feel like, or retreat to my “I don’t feel like talking” cocoon when my mood dips.
And so it’s only natural that when I’m sitted here minding my own bidness, that I’ll log in and should someone say hi, reply.
Therefore it irks me when people come to my computer screen and all they see is Facebook, irrespective of the fact that I could be having four other tabs open. Sure, I chat when there’s someone online, but that’s because I really am great at multi-tasking.
I’m a weird blend of characteristics, I can be quite chatty when I feel like, or retreat to my “I don’t feel like talking” cocoon when my mood dips.
And so it’s only natural that when I’m sitted here minding my own bidness, that I’ll log in and should someone say hi, reply.
But for some reason, it’s a gateway to offering unsolicited opinions and
advices. Honestly, who asked you what you think of Facebook? If it’s of
no benefit to you, why should you talk like your opinion is what counts
most?
It baffles me that some even go to the extent of trashing this social networking phenomena terming it a total waste of time, yet they don’t seem to think tonnes of minutes spent on Yahoo messenger is an office no-no as well.
So today something similar happened, which reminded me of this question I get asked all the time, “Do you ever work?” The most ironic thing is; my boss has practically never complained to me that my output is wanting. Sure he did have reservations about my facebooking, but that was before he joined the bandwagon himself.
But no, some miss goody two shoes just won’t keep their nonsensical opinions to themselves. I no longer bother to explain my self.
So why pray tell am I ranting and raving like a raging lunatic you ask? Because I can. That’s the most honest answer I can give.
You see for me, thanks to Serah Moko tagging me in her note by poet extraordinaire Maya Angelou, I discovered you could write notes and post them! No biggie you say? Well for me, it was like Christopher Columbus discovering The New World.
Facebook has given me a platform to share my writings with my friends, as well the drive to keep writing. If it wasn’t for that one application (Serah I shall forever be grateful), I’d have probably given up on this so called gift after my two attempts at professional writing failed miserably.
Through Facebook, I have forged strong alliances, but most of all, established relationships with family members too far away to drop by and say hi to, some of whom I’m yet to meet. Damn what the haters might say, Facebook to me is a gift I cherish, because I’m not outgoing and thus for those of us who are socially challenged, opening up to total strangers can be a matter of epic proportions.
My point is, before you patronize or invalidate someone else'S perpective, walk a mile in their shoes. While you’re at it, find out the shoe’s designer, the cobbler who repaired it, heck, find out the wearer’s outlook on life. I guarantee you you’ll be amazed at how much you overlook when you judge a book by it’s cover and forget that the content inside is a fusion of experiences, creative writing and editorial genius. Just a thought.
It baffles me that some even go to the extent of trashing this social networking phenomena terming it a total waste of time, yet they don’t seem to think tonnes of minutes spent on Yahoo messenger is an office no-no as well.
So today something similar happened, which reminded me of this question I get asked all the time, “Do you ever work?” The most ironic thing is; my boss has practically never complained to me that my output is wanting. Sure he did have reservations about my facebooking, but that was before he joined the bandwagon himself.
But no, some miss goody two shoes just won’t keep their nonsensical opinions to themselves. I no longer bother to explain my self.
So why pray tell am I ranting and raving like a raging lunatic you ask? Because I can. That’s the most honest answer I can give.
You see for me, thanks to Serah Moko tagging me in her note by poet extraordinaire Maya Angelou, I discovered you could write notes and post them! No biggie you say? Well for me, it was like Christopher Columbus discovering The New World.
Facebook has given me a platform to share my writings with my friends, as well the drive to keep writing. If it wasn’t for that one application (Serah I shall forever be grateful), I’d have probably given up on this so called gift after my two attempts at professional writing failed miserably.
Through Facebook, I have forged strong alliances, but most of all, established relationships with family members too far away to drop by and say hi to, some of whom I’m yet to meet. Damn what the haters might say, Facebook to me is a gift I cherish, because I’m not outgoing and thus for those of us who are socially challenged, opening up to total strangers can be a matter of epic proportions.
My point is, before you patronize or invalidate someone else'S perpective, walk a mile in their shoes. While you’re at it, find out the shoe’s designer, the cobbler who repaired it, heck, find out the wearer’s outlook on life. I guarantee you you’ll be amazed at how much you overlook when you judge a book by it’s cover and forget that the content inside is a fusion of experiences, creative writing and editorial genius. Just a thought.
Kibali
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