I began writing a post on Sunday night with hopes of finishing it tonight. But as I reopened the post to continue writing about my view on SAT2 and how it soo much illustrates the life lessons I have learnt over the past bit. My mind was elsewhere.
As most of you know I have a weekly Tuesday Ritual and no its not the newly established slumber party at my parentals, but rather it is my visit to the Temple and as I began to write out a speech I have to give tomorrow night...my mind began to drift back to where/when it all started.
Thinking back on my life now, it is crazy to even think how this has become so routine for me in nature. It's not that I wasn't raised in a religious household, becuase I was. But like most kids you hear things growing up and you go through the motions of what your parents tell you to do and you do it and you don't question it becuase the reality is they are your parents and you don't second guess anything they tell you.
At the budding age of 19, I met someone whom I thought was the love of my life. And before I could even come to enjoy the idea of just being young and in Love I was faced with some of the hardest questions I would ever face in my life. He although Indian was a Suni Muslim and I of course was not. My life at that point quickly turned into an Indian Movie of sorts. And while the two of us, can sit back and laugh about some of the things now, we both know that while going through it, hell seemed like a lot better of a place to be.
Soon after my unforbidden Love bit the dust I met someone else, whom after many years became someone I could see my life with. He was not Indian and instead of being a Suni Muslim, he was Catholic. Over the years that we had dated I had gone to Church every sunday with him, family events that were in the church and even carried out catholic rituals like Lent. In the 4 years that we dated we ate indian food once and near to the end of our relationship he told me he knew that I prayed at mosque....funny becuase I thought only Muslims Prayed at mosque :S
It was after these failed relationships and the dawning of my sisters wedding that I began to question what I would do if I were too have kids tomorrow? I mean what would I teach them and where would religion stand in our family life? As I began to ask all these questions, I quickly realized that I didn't know anything to begin with. I mean I had spent most of my adult life trying to be the compromising girlfriend for most of my boyfriends that I had never taken the time to get to know anything about the religion that I was raised with.
So with this realization I embarked on the journey to figure it all out. I started going to the temple on Tuesdays and found through the services that i was learning about the things I was raised with and the idea's that my parents followed as they raised us. Having nearly minored in religion in University i could sit in the services and draw the connections between all the religions I had studied and realized that while the rituals made each religion different the underlying concepts were all the same. And really as much as we all like to point fingers, be fanatical at times and draw judgement all in all it is a really beautiful thing to understand that we are all really connected.
While i continued to go to the Temple every Tuesday, I began taking Yoga. And it is through Yoga, I have learnt the most about me, myself and my beliefs and where I see my kids as they grow. While I go to the temple every tuesday and I don't eat meat on Mondays and Tuesdays. Its all become a form of discipline for me and further my own little ritual that I have made. And while I think and believe that the Hindu religion is beautiful, I don't believe that it is the best or the better one to follow. In fact I have come to understand the idea of being spirtual and the importance of being raised with some religious backing. Thus whether you are raised catholic, christian, muslim, etc. it doesn't matter as long as you are raised having some belief that a higher power exists.
After all everyone needs something to believe in and while its tough to keep hope in serious moments of weakness, its that faith that ultimately gets us through it all and the kind of faith doesn't matter as long as there is some faith there to begin with :)
Here's to hoping I don't stutter toooo much tomorrow
-A
Monday, June 21, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The God of Small Things.....
Yes I know sometime has passed since I last wrote, but I was in the midst of recovering from one of the many new domestic injuries I keep getting. Lucky for me this one left my thumb in several bandages and gave me the electricution hairstyle that caused many of my coworkers to wonder if I had fallen off the fashion bandwagon and into a bath tub filled with electric cords....lol
But I have now recovered and am sitting in my cute little apartment, wondering if it will ever feel like home. Whille the walls and shelves are filled with pictures and decor, I cant really fathom that this is really permanent and not some hotel room I have been forced to stay in while working. In fact the first few weeks here, I woke up in the mornings and opened the door to my apartment to see if the paper would be there :S But quickly I have learned that maid service doesn't exist in condo's and no one makes your bed and leaves chocolates on your pillow or free bottles of water which have now become a luxury to me.
And its not that I don't like it, becuase I love it. I just wonder how all these hotel rooms I have stayed in before became like home faster than something that is actually permanent like my apartment. I mean in just a few short days my Ugandan house became like this security blanket that I still think about at night and whille driving along hwy 1 the west coast left me glowing just as radiant as the sun and taking the tube London just felt like second nature. And yes I do know that the idea of settling into something takes sometime...maybe I am just beginning to wonder if this is really home for me and if it is, what's missing from the equation?
Regardless I will tell you one thing. Moving out has reminded me all over again about the "little things" and why I love them soo much, its almost like I have learnt to just cherish them that much more...
Let's face it, I have never been the girl to like expensive jewlry and gifts and while I wouldn't mind getting me some tiffany's at the end of the day its a single gerber daisy, a sweet comment and the effort and time that make the difference. The best gifts are the one's that show that you actually had to do more then walk into a store and pick something out...they show that you actually have begun to understand the people that surround you and are taking the time to show them that you have been listing and watching this whole time...
With that being said, I have begun a tradition that is what reminded of the little things. On Tuesday's I make the trek up to the Hill and slumber party it up with my rents. Every Monday Night as I pack my bag, I curse the idea of having to stay there, but then I get there and its as simple as my dad waiting on the driveway with open arms, or my mom having baked a cake for me that always causes me to tear up as I head home. Last nite, I continued the Tuesday night tradition. After a yummy dinner and some TV with the parentals, I headed for a shower. When I came out of the bathroom the house was dark and I knew that meant my parents had fallen asleep and a part of me was sad that I didn't get to say good night to them, becuase as my sister will agree - "goodnight hugs and kisses" are a tradition in our household. Anyways, as I headed into my room, there on my bed lay a note:
Good Night (insert dad's pet name that CAN NEVER BE REVEALED!) - Love daddy
Yes, i am a sap because I totally teared up. But thats just it. It was as if my dad just knew I would be sad that I didn't get to say good nite...And it was that Little note written on scrap paper that made any stress from the day disappear.
And with that I leave you all with the question of - WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAT BACK LOOKED AT THE LITTLE THINGS AND REALIZED JUST HOW LUCKY YOU WERE? shity days are shity days and they will continue on forever - but its the people that make you smile most on those days that really understand "The God of Small Things" and those are the people you should surround yourself with alll the time :)
Til Next Time
- A
But I have now recovered and am sitting in my cute little apartment, wondering if it will ever feel like home. Whille the walls and shelves are filled with pictures and decor, I cant really fathom that this is really permanent and not some hotel room I have been forced to stay in while working. In fact the first few weeks here, I woke up in the mornings and opened the door to my apartment to see if the paper would be there :S But quickly I have learned that maid service doesn't exist in condo's and no one makes your bed and leaves chocolates on your pillow or free bottles of water which have now become a luxury to me.
And its not that I don't like it, becuase I love it. I just wonder how all these hotel rooms I have stayed in before became like home faster than something that is actually permanent like my apartment. I mean in just a few short days my Ugandan house became like this security blanket that I still think about at night and whille driving along hwy 1 the west coast left me glowing just as radiant as the sun and taking the tube London just felt like second nature. And yes I do know that the idea of settling into something takes sometime...maybe I am just beginning to wonder if this is really home for me and if it is, what's missing from the equation?
Regardless I will tell you one thing. Moving out has reminded me all over again about the "little things" and why I love them soo much, its almost like I have learnt to just cherish them that much more...
Let's face it, I have never been the girl to like expensive jewlry and gifts and while I wouldn't mind getting me some tiffany's at the end of the day its a single gerber daisy, a sweet comment and the effort and time that make the difference. The best gifts are the one's that show that you actually had to do more then walk into a store and pick something out...they show that you actually have begun to understand the people that surround you and are taking the time to show them that you have been listing and watching this whole time...
With that being said, I have begun a tradition that is what reminded of the little things. On Tuesday's I make the trek up to the Hill and slumber party it up with my rents. Every Monday Night as I pack my bag, I curse the idea of having to stay there, but then I get there and its as simple as my dad waiting on the driveway with open arms, or my mom having baked a cake for me that always causes me to tear up as I head home. Last nite, I continued the Tuesday night tradition. After a yummy dinner and some TV with the parentals, I headed for a shower. When I came out of the bathroom the house was dark and I knew that meant my parents had fallen asleep and a part of me was sad that I didn't get to say good night to them, becuase as my sister will agree - "goodnight hugs and kisses" are a tradition in our household. Anyways, as I headed into my room, there on my bed lay a note:
Good Night (insert dad's pet name that CAN NEVER BE REVEALED!) - Love daddy
Yes, i am a sap because I totally teared up. But thats just it. It was as if my dad just knew I would be sad that I didn't get to say good nite...And it was that Little note written on scrap paper that made any stress from the day disappear.
And with that I leave you all with the question of - WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAT BACK LOOKED AT THE LITTLE THINGS AND REALIZED JUST HOW LUCKY YOU WERE? shity days are shity days and they will continue on forever - but its the people that make you smile most on those days that really understand "The God of Small Things" and those are the people you should surround yourself with alll the time :)
Til Next Time
- A
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