Sunday, 31 July 2011

Waste not...

If there is one thing I don't like, detest even, it is perfectly good food being thrown about. Like a cake fight, or tomatoes being squashed in a seasonal festival, or milk being poured over divine deities in exotic countries. In most circumstances I try to be non judgemental of lifestyle choices and cultural traditions. But when it comes to food, I cannot pretend to be rational and reasonable.

Some parts of the world have people starving, clasping their dying children close to them, looking around with cold, hopeless eyes for a morsel. When I think about it, or even worse imagine myself clutching Tara, not knowing if my precious baby will see the next sunrise....the feeling of desperation overwhelms and horrifies me. Im a mum, so are millions of other women who watch their precious children die due to starvation. In this day and age it is morally and spiritually unacceptable.

It is nothing short of criminal to play with food. Make no mistake. Where we are born is just luck of the draw. We must not have the arrogance to believe otherwise. So the next time you or I waste food, let us try to think many times. I choose to belive that if there is a God, He/She would much rather we feed a fellow human being than accept offerings meant to curry favour with Him/Her

Saturday, 30 July 2011

In my own shoes

Yesterday I was speaking to a friend who lost a dear one. She said a year on she still felt raw pain, was unable to feel real joy, and was unable to move on. My first instinct was to tell her that it would get better soon, and she would be fine once she comes to terms with her loss. Instead I was quiet and just squeezed her hand.

I put the kettle to boil and looked out of the window, at the flowers in the garden. Every flower was different, so were people. Some of us bounce back quicker than others. It doesn't make us better or stronger...we are just different.

As I handed my friend her cup of tea, she looked up at me and said, "Thank you.....for not lecturing me about my loss."

After she left that day I thought about the number of times how with the best of intentions, we often end up making others feel worse. When we try to put ourselves in someone's shoes, we literally put ourselves in their place. We then decide how we would feel or react and expect them to feel or react same.

So the next time, instead of trying to walk in someone else's shoes, I think I might stay in my own shoes and walk beside them instead.

Wednesday, 27 July 2011

Is there anyone out there...

When I started writing this blog, (which was not so long ago), I needed a space to express myself and put some thoughts and feelings into written words. Not much thought went into my target audience....which by the way... is me.

A few moments ago, a thought ran through my there anyone out there who might have read my words? If there is....well...hello, how are you? Hope you are having a nice day..

Sometimes that's all another human being needs to hear or perhaps just want to say to someone else. We are all connected, not directly maybe. We share common concerns, similar challenges, insecurities, joys, tragedies etc. but people sometimes choose to look at our differences, which by the way are superficial.

The pain of losing a loved one is common, as is the excitement of feeling passionate love. Scratch below the surface and look past the first few layers of all people....I would wager we are all pretty much the same.

So if there is someone out there reading this, "Hello....I want to share one moment of my existence with you, and stand with you, sharing any emotion you are feeling at this time. No one is alone, there is always someone out there"

Tuesday, 26 July 2011

My little politician

Tara sat on the steps and triumphantly declared that she had put on her own socks. The Husband nodded appreciatively as if she had just discovered a new planetary system. Tara rose up slowly and declared that 'Miss' in school had taught her how to put on her socks.....and taught her numbers.....and the alphabet.....and tidying up etc. etc. etc. I couldn't stand being all magnanimous anymore, and exclaimed, "Didn't I teach you any of those things?"

Tara turned around and said, "Of course Mummy, you taught me one thing..."

Great, I thought...just one thing...

"....and that one thing is EVERYTHING." concluded Tara with a flourish of her little arms as she strode away.

I was speechless....for a change. My little not-yet-four year old had said so much, with so few words. 

Sunday, 24 July 2011

Day out

Its Sunday today. As a family we tend to have a set routine on Sunday. Tara's Dad, (henceforth known as The Husband) usually takes her out for the morning. They visit their usual spots, have lunch and come back home, giving me the vital me-time I have for myself, to do as I please. Today I wanted to do something different....the 3 of us together. The Husband disagreed, but I dug my heels in.... Im good at that....digging my heels in. So we went to a beach, hardly 5 miles away. It took our breath away as a collective 'Wow' escaped our lips. All these years we have been so close to paradise, but always looked further afield.

Human nature I suppose. The most precious things are all around us. We just have to stop looking at the horizon for that perfect job, that perfect partner, that perfect life....and just look at what we have in and around us, and be grateful. Its a lot more than other people have. Everything in life is relative.

Saturday, 23 July 2011

Keep talking

It is important to talk. To people, animals, plants, pictures, the sky, or even to oneself. 'Talk' may be the wrong word, 'communicate' is more appropriate. Words need not be the only medium of communication. Mothers and babies communicate by touch, while people in love communicate across a crowded room with just a look,

To stop talking is to stagnate. So say something everyday, even if its just a prayer

Friday, 22 July 2011


It was the last day of Tara's kindergarten today. Some of us mums-at-the-gate met up for coffee. It was interesting listening to the common concerns and hopes of other mums. Then the tears started....oh dear I thought sanctimoniously.

We all left to go back to school and waited to pick up the kids. This was followed by exchanging of numbers, pictures...and....more crying..

Today was a party by the teachers for the kids at the school. The bell went, and the children all came out one by one smiling and happy, while all the teachers and parents clapped. I was fine amongst the blubbering women...until my not-yet-4 year old Tara walked out smiling, carrying all her bags, shoes and report cards...wearing a paper crown.... and I unreservedly joined the tears brigade..

Teachers were thanked and hugged, and presents and cards given. The head teacher gave a small speech, which she has probably given many times over the last 25-30 years. She took Tara as an example of a child who has come a long way since that dreaded first week, and I was proud. 

Tara hugged her favourite teacher and said a well rehearsed "thank you for everything" as more sniffles wafted through the air. The kids were mostly happy and laughing while the mothers were a mess, what with our eyeliners and mascaras smeared everywhere but our eyes.

It was a day not only about the children, who frankly didn't seem to care about the fact that it was their last day at school. It was perhaps more for us mums-at-the-gate, with our dreams, aspirations and apprehensions for our children as they take another step towards growing up.

I think its time to go home. My little baby is all grown up and going to big school soon...More tears anyone ??