Maybe it was me who didn’t understand

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You know how they say your past experiences shape your insights of the world, and how you decide to act in the present. Sometimes the way we react to a piece of news is inversely related to the number of times we’ve heard it before. And the numbers may as well have been taken from Fibonacci’s series; each number is a summation of the last two numbers. Take a simple example, tell someone in Minnesota that it’s snowing and they might not even react because they’ve seen snow so many times (many snow viewings = little/no reaction). But tell someone from the UAE that it’s snowing and keep a camera in hand to record the reaction and if you’re lucky it might go viral.

So while we may understand that we have a unique point of view, yet we still go through life judging people for being different. But sometimes in life, you just need to stop judging and start listening. We try to project our ideas onto others, we get angry at some of other people’s behaviors but maybe the things that bug us about them don’t bug them as much as they bug us, so we need to recalibrate our sensors instead of trying to change their behaviors. I guess with time you learn to be more accepting.

I wrote this because I came across this piece from my old journals…

Date: 25 June 2001

So the other time I was thinking that I’m tired of being stuck in this whirlwind of dreams of a brighter future for people who do not even care about having one themselves. Some of them are driving me nuts. I finally pull up the white flag. I surrender. There’s a voice that once told me to let it go. Maybe it was me who didn’t understand.¬†

Don’t Be Perfect, Just…

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It’s been a while since I blogged, so as I sit here having my yoghurt with honey, I thought of posting one of those random ramblings just in case something useful comes out. One thing about bloggers is that when they take a hiatus, one thought keeps nagging at the back of their minds, “You haven’t written in two weeks, so your next post must be WOW! It must ROCK!” That thought puts more pressure on them and naturally extends their break, because whatever they write – or half-write – isn’t good enough for a post, and so they’d rather not publish it. I have to admit that I can be guilty of that as well. But one way to face the resistance is to just aim at publishing a bad post. Not horrible. Aim for mediocre. Just don’t aim for perfect. That way you’ll break the hiatus, overcome inertia and -hopefully – gain momentum.

I guess this is today’s message. From the short length of this post to its incomplete title, my message is, “Don’t be perfect, just try your best and you’ll be surprised.”

Did you enjoy UAE’s weather last weekend?

Weekly Photo Challenge: Future Tense

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While a lot of extroverts can’t imagine how introverts live a life of seclusion, a lot of introverts can’t imagine the lives of extroverts. In the middle of the noise, the lights, the boisterous chatter and socializing, when do they find time to sit, relax and reflect on their lives. Does any of the extroverts keep a diary, to capture their thoughts, their ideas, their stream of consciousness as they try to understand what’s going on around them? Or maybe they don’t even bother to take that pause, instead deciding to wade through the stream of life continuously, searching for the action and the extra stimulants in terms of noise and light to fill their understimulated brains.

A lot of people have come and gone in my life, but the white page has been something that has given me company for the longest time ever. It was there to absorb the anger, the hope, the pain and the anticipation. It sometimes happens when you find yourself so sure of someone in your life, thinking that they’ll always be there for you, only to watch them fade away with time. You may still be able to run into them, you may still be able to recognize them, but you might not be able to trust them anymore. And that’s when the journal beckons you to sit down, and tell it everything, what happened? Why it happened? How you feel about it?

And as you empty your emotions within its pristine pages – some of them scribbles so¬†unintelligible, you might not even be able to read it yourself – you start understanding things that didn’t make sense when the pieces were all still in your head. You needed to write them down, put them on paper, give the a tangible form, so you could play with them and later arrange them like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle to complete the picture.

So yeah, some people might not be able to know what to do with a journal filled with empty pages. But the most obvious thing is to fill it, with your past, your present and your hopes for the future.

My current journal
My current journal

Weekly Photo Challenge: My Neighborhood

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Image taken from Masdar City

This image shows nature in its rawest form; the sun setting in a glorious display of light, the extending sandy terrain and the lack of skyscrapers in the horizon. It’s only the bulldozer that enters the scene, showing work under construction, a symbol of a city that is coming into being one step at a time.
Daily Press Weekly Photo Challenge