My grandma’s village in the rainy season seems as green and peaceful as her heart, and as full of blessings.
When we were kids, our parents applauded when we performed, whether at school, or extra-curricular activities.
I believe that this led to a sort of cycle where our happiness depended on others being happy with us. In order to keep others happy, we do whatever it takes– and this is considered a good thing.
Sure, I can expect people to be kind, but whether they will actually be kind depends on their reality. That does not mean I should let go of my expectations, just that I need to remember that they’re my expectations, and not their reality.
I read as a break from life, as an exercise in thought, as a supplement to my writing—because sometimes I also have to read like a writer. It is nearly as big a part of my life as my writing, and sometimes I struggle between the two—because there is not enough time for me to read, write and do everything else we call ‘living life’.
I managed to learn swimming after more than three decades of being afraid of water, so I can do this. Amen.