All posts filed under: Learnings

on disappointment

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One strength that comes with age, to my utter satisfaction, is the diminishing of Fears of Unusual Proportion. Those situations or conversations that years before might’ve rendered you weak in the knees with stomach in knots are now set in relief against such a breadth of life experience that their power over you is a fraction of what it used to be. That’s not to say the fear is eviscerated. I think that only comes after a lifetime of transcendental meditation, or the sudden bequeathal of super hero powers; I’ve achieved neither. In fact, I’ve noticed that old fears are simply replaced with newer ones, the latter more concerned with community than ego, with inner well-being than with outward presentation. Nevertheless, difficult conversations and weighty responsibilities are more and more the things I push through, small prices for a career, or growth in relationship, or simply growing up. Yet when it comes to conquering one particular fear, I may be a late bloomer: The fear of disappointing others. Last week I had a triple-threat lesson in this particular theme, …

on henna, and turning 30

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She’s a true artist, free-handing wild, whimsical designs on not one, but four out-stretched arms. she brought in an ipad for musical inspiration, and sang along to the tunes, turning the volume down only slightly when the adhaan sounded through the windows. There was something about her confidence, her self-assurance, as she embraced a new canvas and created in the moment. A finesse that comes with experience, a groundedness, a simplicity of movement that was so impressive, even as she spun delicate designs. In my 30th year, I hope to remain inspired by this scene, this spirit, this act of grace and confident, complex creativity. Happy birthday to the June bugs and the summer babies. [Hargeisa, Somaliland]

on a message

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An excerpt from a recent email between close friends: In all honesty I’m terrified, and my confidence is shaken to the core. Nevertheless, I can’t deny the everyday gifts: the kindnesses, the peach cobbler, the call to prayer and the hypnotic, beautiful dikhr that pours out from the mosques on special occasions; the birds in the morning; the cool floors of my house; the farmer who insisted on giving me two giant, leafy heads of lettuce for free. I try to compose my days of those gifts, building out the time like the homes here that are indefinitely under construction. And of mindfulness, and of quiet and gratitude as well. Not easy, but worth it still. Photos from Tunisia’s striking Sidi Bou Said

on houses

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What’s your house like? Not the one that keeps you out of the rain, but the one to which you retreat when times are tough. The house you built from bones, and shards of glass, and pockets of generosity, and life’s gifts. The house you carry with you, like the tortoise you were meant to be, like the one you are sometimes. What’s it like? Grandiose, with room to dance? Or just big enough to nap inside? How do you arrive to that place? Do you run, do you crawl, do you saunter? How often do you go? What’s it like in there? Are you safe, and free of fear? Is it comfortable? Well-furnished? Are there plenty of rugs and pillows? Do you breathe freely? Who do you let in? For how long do you entertain? Do you remember the route inwards?  Don’t forget it, keep practicing–it’ll come in handy when you need it most. . . . Photos of homes, etc. in the neighborhood of Faso Kanu, Magnambougou, Bamako

on perfection (and indigo)

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Did you know that you’re perfect ? In case you needed to hear it … Not perfect like that. Not in the ways you wish for when no one’s looking. Not in the ways that nibble at your edges and wear them down sometimes. You’re perfect in the sense of whole. Full. Complete. Enough. You’re perfect like a stretch of indigo cloth: nobody is looking at those few ragged threads, and faded fibers have character. But the long view, the full view, the ensemble: it’s miraculous, it’s delightful, it’s perfection. And so are you. . . . Images from a Malian indigo atelier, put on by Sékou Tours. Indigo is a lesser-known Malian miracle, the little sister of Bogolan. See this beautiful  article on one of Mali’s indigo stars.