stepping into my storm

I'm finally reading Kafka on the Shore and slowly growing to like it more and more. 

I feel like Murakami may actually be my cup of tea.

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

~ Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami

Americanah wrenches at my heart in small, subtle, and unexpected ways.

At the Abuja Airport on his way back to Lagos, he thought of going to the international wing instead, buying a ticket to somewhere improbable, like Malabo. Then he felt a passing self-disgust because he would not, of course, do it; he would instead do what he was expected to do. He was boarding his Lagos flight when Kosi called. 

"Is the flight on time? Remember we are taking Nigel out for his birthday," she said. 

"Of course I remember." 

A pause from her end. He had snapped. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have a funny headache." 

"Darling, ndo. I know you're tired," she said. "See you soon." 

He hung up and thought about the day their baby, slippery, curly-haired Buchi, was born at the Woodlands Hospital in Houston, how Kosi had turned to him while he was still fiddling with his latex gloves and said, with something like apology, "Darling, we'll have a boy next time." He had recoiled. He realized then that she did not know him. She did not know him at all. She did not know he was indifferent about the gender of their child. And he felt a gentle contempt towards her, for wanting a boy because they were supposed to want a boy, and for being able to say, fresh from birthing their first child, those words "we'll have a boy next time". Perhaps he should have talked more with her, about the baby they were expecting and about everything else, because although they exchanged pleasant sounds and were good friends and shared comfortable silences, they did not really talk. But he had never tried, because he knew that the questions he asked of life were entirely different from hers.

I relate to this so much. How do we account for such things? That people are just different? At a different frequency? We should always attempt to bridge connection with anyone, right (shouldn't we?), but as I grow older, I also grow more cognizant of how differently I perhaps see the world. My current internal struggle involves having to square with this very fact: that most people don't see the way I see the world, and that I can't fault them for that. I can't get angry that some people don't get it. Actually, don't we all see the world differently? I don't know. It's all very confusing, and leaves me a heartache.

a quarter of the way through Ramadan!
energy level is already dropping --
ganbatte, S.




And now that you don't have to be perfect,
you can be good.
-- John Steinbeck, East of Eden


Have not read this book, but feel like I should.
I saw this quote in passing the other day,
and it has stuck in my brain for a while now,
like a mantra for the state of life I'm in.

This is so beautiful.

💔

and currently my favourite from the new album,

Love Yourself: Tear.

why do beautiful things make my heart ache so much. 

Bloomed in a garden of loneliness,

a flower that resembles you,

I wanted to give it to you -

After I take off this foolish mask

But I know I can never do that,

I must hide because I'm ugly

I am afraid, I am run-down, I'm so afraid,

That you will leave me again in the end,

I wear a mask again and go to see you

What I can do is in the garden, in this world

I bloom a pretty flower that looks like you

and breathe as the me that you know

But I still want you......


---

yes, Taz!

:) BTS, thank you for the Magic Shop for all of us.
Let's all continue to work hard,
give out positive vibes,
and be happy!

Between what is said and not meant,
what is meant and not said,
Most of love is lost.

-- Khalil Gibran

I'm reading Americanah now, and this is another wonderful, wonderful story
that is equally a study of human culture, and humanity, and connection --

Obinze and Ifemelu -- goodness, they feel so real.
It's so real, I think, the situation of having lost someone
because of 'circumstances'. Almost common.
what is meant and not said.



I can't help but connect it to BTS's latest song release, Fake Love.

If you can't love yourself, you can't be yourself;
and when you are not yourself, it's fake
-- and love will not last.

The whole music video depicts how all the fake personas

eventually suffer, break, and shatter; they cannot be sustained.

  If you're untrue to yourself, the love won't last. ~ RM

Happy Ramadhan!

:))))

I am psyched at the start of this month,
and hope to stay psyched for as long as I possibly can,
if not all the way through.
I have personal goals I want to achieve too,
Alhamdulillah.



And I just finally accepted and understood for myself,
in conjunction with the advent of this blessed time:
the truth that love conquers all.

It's cheesy, and cliched, but as I've posted here many times previously:
such things are more often than not very true.

Why do I say this? Because for a while now,
getting very angry and upset, at a lot of things,
seemingly more than justified to me, has made me grapple with managing my rage,
and wrestling with the concept of forgiveness.
I pondered and ruminated and puzzled and agonized a long time on it, and had discussions,
and struggled to come up with an understanding or conclusion or solution...

until I thought of the Prophet s.a.w.,
and thought of how he forgave so many people --

the people of Taif who threw rocks at him s.a.w. and treated him atrociously,
when all he wanted to do was talk and share his message --
but when asked by the angels if he wanted to be rid of them,
he said, "No, they don't know any better." and prayed
that the children of Taif would have their hearts opened instead.
(which they did of course in future generations)

the people of Makkah,
who killed so many of his beloved companions and uncles and family --
but upon the Prophet's reconquest of Makkah, he forgave them unstintingly.
His enemies were pretty much stunned, I think. They had expected to be massacred in revenge.
(this act of unprecedented kindness moved so many more to follow the Prophet s.a.w.)

I had started to think, how could he do this, this amazing man?
and realised that the pervasive and all-encompassing love that he had for people and humanity,
a sort of balanced love that did not consume but spread like a balm over others,
was what enabled forgiveness.
A giving-ness that allows space and growth -- a "Oh, they do not know any better."
that allows you to love them for their humanity anyway.
Every human is trying his or her very best.

It's easy to mistake endless love and kindness as stupidity,
far too easy,
but in truth, there is so much power in simple love and kindness, that transcends.
And I would actually be stupid if I remained blind to this.

And that's what I shall strive towards bit by bit
through all the corners of my heart.

Insya Allah, Amiiiin.

Well, this was very self-affirming! 💕😄

I could do with more EFs in my life who reach out to others to show their love.

This ENFJ girl was very spot-on about INFPs I feel.

INFPs are more interested in peace than success.
INFPs secretly let their freak flag fly -- totally! I pin my BTS keychains to my work trolley bag, and use cutes-y pens (that make Datin S roll her eyes -- there's her J behaviour shining through), and at some subconscious level my doing so helps me see who to me appears 'fake' or overly concerned about appearances and conformity by the way they react to it; because God knows I have such an issue about people who do things for convention's sake. I have a very severe disdain (sometimes too much, even I think to myself) for people who put on so much to pretend to be part of the 'in' group or even to be accepted. Looking back, in my entire life I was never the one who exerted effort to be included, but instead gravitated around until I felt comfortable with a group of people who were more likely to accept me for who I am. Now that I'm older, I understand that to a lot of people, this seems like an aloofness or a she's-in-her-own-world business or a she-can't-be-bothered-to-befriend-others but it's only because internally, I have so much concern about who I needed to be, with myself. If you or your peer group are obviously the type to reject my unique person because I don't fit in to some standard, for some reason or other, then I'm sorry, I'll likely stay away from you. I cannot pretend; I simply, simply cannot pretend and play games. The few times in my life I had attempted to do so stick out in my memory nauseatingly. It sat so badly with me that I had to distance myself from it;  it sticks in my head like glue, like trauma.

It's very interesting the perspective this girl has about how the extroverted judging types go out into the world and try and figure out how the world works and then maneuver their way through it in life, whereas introverted perceiving types don't attempt to do that at all (and I'm a super extreme case, I know). Instead, introverted perceiving types work on armoring or equipping themselves so that no matter what's out in the world, they'd be able to handle it. But of course, as we all know, the sweet spot for success is probably in the middle of these two poles.

I feel like now, as I've been increasingly growing into my person, and I understand my personal inclinations, and the possible sources of their development, I feel poised at the brink of developing my other inferior traits. I need to develop my T function more, my S function and my stepchild J function. I am concertedly putting in effort at times, because these do not come naturally to me.

But I shall strive! because as Elaine Aron mentioned in The Highly Sensitive Person, it's almost an ethical imperative for people to fully develop their selves:

The Pursuit of Wholeness Through The Four Functions 

... according to Jung and von Franz, it is really an ethical imperative to take the time for it. Much of the irrational collective behaviour we see involves people projecting their inferior function onto others or being vulnerable to appeals to their inferior function, which the manipulative media and leaders can exploit. When Hitler was promoting German hatred of the Jews, he appealed to the inferior function of the particular group to which he spoke. When he spoke to intuitives, those with inferior sensing, he described the Jews as financial tycoons and evil manipulators of markets. Intuitives are often impractical and bad at making money. Intuitives can easily feel inferior and ashamed about their poor business sense, which makes it a short step to feeling victimized by anyone better at it. How nice to blame someone else for one's own lack. 

To feeling types with inferior thinking, Hitler portrayed the Jews as unfeeling intellectuals. To thinking types with inferior feeling, he said the Jews were selfishly pursuing Jewish interests, without any universal, rational ethics. And to sensing types with inferior intuition, the Jews were hinted to possess secret, magical, intuitive knowledge and powers. 

When we can spot our inferior function's inferior reactions -- its inferiority complex -- we can put a stop to this sort of blaming. Thus, it is part of our moral duty to get to know exactly how we are not whole.

super duper late, but I had finished all my work so late,
and then had a ball of a time to reward myself.
it does feel good to have finished work so thoroughly;
but now I'm on a high. and cannot sleep.


and it doesn't help that I'm getting so addicted to this Korean variety show on Netflix;
Heechul is totally the bad boy type girls hate to love, or love to hate;
him and the entire cast on this show are amazingly hilarious.

this is my most favourite clip from the show,

because Heechul actually looks bashful here, for once! haha

and it's clear he's actually really impressed by Mi-sun --

this lady is seriously so awesomely funny.

I could keep watching clips like this endlessly --
someone quipped, Someone do a doping test on Heechul, please.
HAHA because he is so crazy high sometimes, and it's addictive!

obviously Netflix buying over these shows and making them so convenient for me

is destroying my life, hahaaaah.

wednesday night happy vibes

ن ۚ وَالْقَلَمِ وَمَا يَسْطُرُونَ

-- Surah Al-Qalam

Nuun. By the pen and what they write.

This was so wonderful to learn about.

And there is nothing better

than to remember how wonderful the Prophet s.a.w. is.

The most wonderful and most beloved thing in existence.

💗

And then there's this which should be compulsory reading for every day:

لَقَدْ جَآءَكُمْ رَسُولٌ مِنْ أَنْفُسِكُمْ عَزِيزٌ عَلَيْهِ مَاعَنِتُّمْ حَرِيصٌ عَلَيْكُم بِالْمُؤْمِنِينَ رَؤُوفٌ رَحِيمٌ

فإِن تَوَلَّوْا فَقُلْ حَسْبِيَ اللّهُ لآ إِلَهَ إِلاَّ هُوَ عَلَيْهِ تَوَكَّلْتُ وَهُوَ رَبُّ الْعَرْشِ الْعَظِيمِ

-- Surah At-Tawbah, 128-129

There has indeed come to you a Messenger from among yourselves.

Grievous to him is whatever afflicts you; he is full of concern for you.

And most kind and merciful to the believers.

So, if they turn away, say: "Allah is sufficient for me. There is no God but He.

In Him have I put my trust, and He is the Lord of the Great 'Arsh."

This brings back to mind something that happened very recently, barely a week ago.

I had found my favourite necklace (the one I'd gotten from Japan with the little hanging bird and the lapis lazuli) all crazy knotted up and I was horrified. I couldn't untangle it. I was intermittently whining already, but kept at it for a while. I kept at it while watching some tv, wracking my brains for a solution to this crazy knot on my precious trinket. I'd even gotten a pair of needles to see if I could tease the metal bits apart.

And then in the midst of this minor distress, as I am wont to do, I metaphor-ize: life is kind of like this, isn't it? Life is hard. Things get knotted up in life and it seems impossible. (Not to mention that I'd also seen a Rumi quote about life and knots.) I'd gotten really sad by this point and wondered if I just had to live with a knotted-up necklace. Then I instinctively and almost-unthinkingly prayed on the Prophet s.a.w., and I kid you not: the knot fell apart in my hands like water. I remember releasing an audible gasp of disbelief intermingled with gratitude; like I'd witnessed a miracle, because it felt that way. I didn't even know how I'd done it -- one minute I was holding a needle and trying to poke it through the middle, and the next moment, the knot came apart and was gone.

I just --

It was amazing.

Ya Rasulullah,

I'd let you untie all my knots for me.

May you be foremost in my life

forever.

💚

I have many a-times considered creating a separate fangirling blog,
because here I am about to fangirl again --
spare me a few moments here:

on second watch,

listening and appreciating this made my heart ache.

 ohmygod, V, what are you saying.

these lyrics are beautiful.

not to mention V's haunting voice.

I tell you, the concept and symbolism in BTS is unparalleled --

So at first, when I watched this, I wasn't paying attention that well;

then someone had highlighted the fact that V jumped into the lake in previous MVs

and how he'd committed a crime to save someone.

A sound of something breaking

I awake from sleep

A sound full of unfamiliarity

Try to cover my ears but can't go to sleep

The pain in my throat gets worse

Try to cover it

I don't have a voice

Today I hear that sound again

It's ringing again, that sound

A crack on this frozen lake

I dumped myself into the lake

I buried my voice for you

Over the winter lake I was thrown

A thick ice has formed

In the dream I shortly went into

My agonizing phantom pain is still the same

Have I lost myself

or have I gained you

I suddenly run to the lake

There's my face in it

Please don't say anything

Reach my hand out to cover the mouth

But in the end, spring will come someday

The ice will melt and flow away

Tell me if my voice isn't real

If I shouldn't have thrown myself away

Tell me if even this pain isn't real

what was I supposed to do back then

ohmygoddd

who wrote this.

RM, is it youuuuu.

It's the pain of having made a sacrifice for someone

and perhaps, realising, 

my god, was it worth it,

what have I done.

do you love me?

Yes, this inability for women to be angry is something I can really relate to.

In fact, I have often been accused or looked at funny for being upset about things

that apparently are not directly related to me sometimes.

Men can tell when women are angry, you know. You shouldn't be angry.

This is supposed to be an accepted female wisdom,

and the first time I had to grapple with this as a young woman, I was speechless.

Speechless in the confusion of... what I'm feeling is wrong?

That was before I understood that feelings cannot really be wrong.

Feelings are only signposts to deeper meanings.

But people often fail to see the implications; the domino effect of consequences

from seemingly small 'inane' behaviour that again tells us so much of the core issues;

that typically someone lacks respect for something or someone else.

fangirl moment 5221:

I really really really admire this boy.

Seriously, RM, you're an inspiration.

I say I don't have a bias in BTS because they're each so awesome

and I adore each of them to pieces --

but if I had to choose, I am floored by RM most of all.

He seems to have such intelligence, and wisdom, and humility,

reads books and puts them into his music,

talks about authenticity and honesty and making art that inspires,

and is in a dancing, rapping, singing boy group.

How is that not a winning combo on its own.

When asked by NHK Japan:  

What's your dream now, after five years' debut and worldwide recognition?

RM:

When we finish our work at the end, if BTS as a group and our history itself becomes a work of art, that would be our dream. I believe music lies above language.

I really really like this 💜

Ah, such nuanced thinking!

This lady is such a bright and brave intelligence.

"The reality of lived experience is very different."

She mentioned a little about humans being emotional beings.

But how often we treat situations as though humans aren't, eh.

I've come to realise in recent times,
that it's extremely important for emotional and mental health,
to embrace your own feelings. One of the toughest things in life
is denying or repressing your feelings repeatedly and consistently, such that it will fester,
perhaps for years, leading inevitably to depression.
But understanding how you feel, acknowledging it, and accepting it,
even when others won't is the key to a well-adjusted inner life. This was the life-changing thing
that I learnt last year. It's been the biggest growth for me in recent times and something
I'm constantly needing practice at.

It is very hard to be kind when you don't give voice to your feelings because
it makes you feel devalued and downtrodden, and then resentful, and that's not kindness, is it,
when you do something begrudgingly, instead of wholeheartedly.

My likely being an HSP (i.e. a highly sensitive person) who senses nuances in words and actions
and then makes conclusions regarding their implications,
leads me to feel a myriad of emotions on a daily basis, and this is exhausting, let me tell you.
I actually think this is why I escape into books.
It gives me respite and lets me switch off about people.

Half the time, people don't seem to realise the messages they're sending out by what they say and do,
and then they claim not to intend any ill-will, which may be true -- but crashing your car against me by accident still means you crashed your car. So you know, I'm learning slowly, that I'm getting these messages and they make me feel a certain way and instead of hating myself for feeling these things (that most people will invalidate should I even attempt to explain them), I tell it to myself instead. And I tell myself how and why I'm feeling it. I talk myself through it. Then I'll have to make a decision about how to act. This way, I don't hate on my heart, but love myself instead. That helps me be a better person in the long run, insya Allah.

On the flipside, I can see the value of this trait of mine. Alhamdulillah, I actually think this highly sensitive side of me is what helps me do my work. The ability to sense every sound, expression, action or word from the children I work with helps me tune in so wholly with them; I make conclusions about what they're thinking and feeling at every moment and instance, and react accordingly. When you react to how people feel, they respond to you, because indirectly, you're telling them you care. This helps me connect with them, and 'crack' them -- as my colleague and I used to say.



When I was about 9 or 10, I think, I attempted to write a poem. I'm quite sure it wasn't very good. In fact, I was feeling nervous about it, but I wanted to do it anyway. It must have been for Mother's Day or something, because I had then handed it over to my mum, along with my siblings, who each had their own gifts for her. I honestly don't remember much else at all of that day, but I remember starkly my mother's response to my gift. She was pleased as mothers would to receive anything from their child, but off-handedly, jokingly said something like, "Why are you like this..." in response to my poem. If I could describe what happened... I think my young childhood self shrank inside. The message that I had gotten, was how wrong it was, but being so young, not knowing what exactly was wrong. Just a general sense of wrongness in being emotional, I think, and attempting a poem of all things! This is what I mean by the messages that even as a child, I read in others.

Of course, my mother did not intend any harm. But her opinion that an emotional, poetry-writing, silly child was not usual, and perhaps undesirable, was what came across from her response. And has clearly stuck with me for life. It doesn't matter what you actually superficially say or do, all of your being tells me otherwise. I think this is what I usually respond to with people; in fact, all of us underneath it all, respond in this way. Your intentions and opinion of others comes across in volumes, and that's what we react to; not superficial practised words. What do you really think of me? Do you respect me? And if we would all endeavour to check our intentions and feelings towards others, perhaps we would all get along better, no matter what we say.

💜

Personal life goal: Learning not to 'otherise', ever, with anyone.