Stewing in your own Stew

We most often drown in puddles of our own making. Parenting is a classic case. We all want to be the cool parent, the liberal ones, the ones that bring up their kids with freedom and independence. All well-intentioned.

But then the kids grow up to be say 5, they talk back, have a mind of their own and decide when they are going to be doing what. Oh the blasted irritation of it all! If only one could get one's toddler to sit down when it was convenient to us! But the toddler doesn't understand deadlines or lack of sleep do they? And poor cool parent is then forced to bring out the rod. Be not-so-cool and remind said toddler who is boss, leaving the little tyke confused and wondering.

This situation plays itself not just in the world of parenting but in the world of team leadership. All of us want to be coolest boss on the floor if you know what I mean! But let that one day, when there is no one around when we need them roll along and we are left facing the music of our own decisions.

There is something to be said then for finding a balance. For not placing too much premium on being the "coolest" or "friendliest" or even "most approachable" leader. After all, popularity isn't the primary point right? Unless you are in politics of course! In which case, I for one, fully appreciate your dilemmas. It is good to set boundaries from the beginning even if some people don't like them. Be clear about the expectations and the kind of unit you want to run. After all, you are the boss.

The project of Uncertainty

It hangs in the air

Silent yet full

Full of hope, hopeless

Contradiction, paradox, oxymoron

Wonderful, anxious, sadistic, masochistic. 

Envious, precious, regretted, unsaid

Frightening, exhilarating, Fantasy, agony

Hell, heaven. 

A leap into the void

Landing on my feet, shattering my heart

Piecing it together, keeping it safe

Letting it out, exploring the beyond. 

Blacks, whites, greys

Caution, abandon, melting away, freezing hard

The illusion of hard walls, the softness of snow

Salty tears, brilliant smiles, mellow sunshine and harsh cold. 

Going away, coming back

Messy and magical, rules and bent lines.

The space in between

I am saddened by how little I have written in the last few years, how little I have wanted to write. The  block, which I hope is clearing today with the urge to suddenly put everything out here, I think came from being deeply unsure of myself.

I am not very much surer today of anything than I was in 2013 but I hope I am more comfortable in the space that I have chosen. It is a space that has always made me deeply anxious and yet one that makes me the most expressive version of myself - the space of alone-ness, of solitude, of living only with my own mind for company. 

It is a space both of peace and a constant restlessness but as soon as I conquer it, I find myself yearning for it. It is the only place where I find myself able to be vulnerable, a trait I think essential for any art. In all it's forms, art is about putting yourself out there, revealing your deepest, darkest corners, and trying to find more universal meaning in it.

One of my projects going forward is to do this more regularly and consistently than I have ever before, in the service of a lifelong dream. Here's to the space in between, to making complete and utter peace with, finding joy in it, and finally getting to a place where I have enough faith in myself to turn that dream into reality.

Mocking Bird

My mind is a dangerous place.

It spins spidery webs,

thin slivers of sticky goo.

It digs deep holes 

knowing I will fall into them.

And then it watches, 

amusing itself in my heart's misery. 

My mind is a dangerous leader.
It makes me smile when I want to scream,
square my shoulders when all I want
is to sink in and disappear.
It watches me struggle,
applauding
even as I am almost breaking.

My mind, what would I do without you
and what I would do to sometimes be without you.
Then I would be truly alone
Blissfully unaware of even my alone-ness.
But no, you will stay.
My stoic friend and
my mocking bird.

The Rant about Bleeding Hearts

A friend and I were ranting yesterday about all the privileged leftists with their corporate salaries, preaching equal distribution of wealth. Why don’t you queue up to spread yours around first? Quoting Che Guevara, wearing tattered clothes, and travelling like a hippie doesn’t make you a committed leftist. Oh and if you were to actually go live in one of the communist countries, they would ask you to shut the hell up. So please be thankful for the freedom you have, be critical of governments and policies by all means but do NOT go spouting ideologies that you don’t understand the first thing about and that you personally, would not want to live by if it meant giving up that little silver spoon sticking out of your mouth.