Grateful

The book I am reading at the time is The Spy of The Heart (Robert Abdul Hay Darr).  It is a fascinating story of an American truth-seeker and his frequent journeys to the war-ridden Afghanistan between 1985-1990.  I feel completely drawn to the book; all the adventures, are the yearning, all the unheard-of experiences.  You can read the few first chapters on-line actually which is a blessing.

I have met the author once, in one of Baraka retreats back in March.  He speaks a pleasant Farsi with a complete Afghan accent.  He has many Persian poems memorized.  He has a calm penetrating gaze.  All in all it felt nice dining with him at the first night of the retreat and get to listen to him the next day when he gave us a talk.

Now his book has gotten me deeply thinking, calmly perplexed with what he has found in Afghanistan.  I have never been to that region.  The most Afghans I have met have been in Bay Area and uniformly they have been very attentive to us, Iranian Persians, even though there were many Afghan refugees in Iran when I was growing up.  I understand that the very dry restrictive political Islamic doctrine is being practiced over there.  And I understand that many years of war have left many in poverty and the lack of knowledge and illiteracy doesn't help with more p[en understanding of this religion either.  Now I am thinking, what are the main differences between that part of the land of Persia, the way explained in this book, and the part I grew up in.  I am immersing in the appreciation he feels for the mystical path of Islam, the tolerance, the beauty, the kindness, he has found and felt through those people.  I feel that I understand what he means; I have experienced the simplistic sincerity in the old villagers I had met in our frequent travels around Iran in my childhood; I feel grateful for being part of that great culture.

It is also interesting to me how the book emphasizes on Mowlana Rumi being "an Afghan".  Fact of the matter is that Mowlana was born in the region of Balkh, at the time belonged of the land of Persia.  The language he has written his poems is Persian.  He was born in the 13th century, and at that point in time there was no Afghanistan or Tajikistan as countries.   He was Persian; even though where he was born is now a province in the country of today's Tajikistan.

Truth of the matter is that Mowlana is timeless and place-less.  He belongs to all the truth-seekers of all times and from any origin.  And I am grateful for being able to read his poems in original language, now comprehending his messages is another matter which will come with God's Grace.

Departure

She looked around.  It was a crowded airport.  Many gates, many people, crammed in a tiny space.  She found herself wanting to run away; literally, run.  Stump stump.  Breaking away tethers.
She looked around some more and the only way out was the escalators to the baggage claim.  She felt suffocated.
She head to a gate further away from hers and sat down where there were a few seats empty on her either sides, a rare relief.
Wished to drink a mocha, wished not to be there.
She was alone...  So very lonely too.
There were many kids strolling around in t-shirts and shorts wiggling and waggling while walking with their tiny feet.  Would any be able to speak two languages?
This place was impossible.  The beach and sailing boats and ocean breeze in the palm trees right in front of her eyes. But unreachable.  Heartbreaking. Aggrieving.
Time to fly away. No looking back!

Sitting in Traffic Logging

Happy Ramazan! Fasting, I made us chicken and beef sandwiches and a cake on Friday while working from home.  It was great to be home on the first day of fasting as it was draining my energy especially in the afternoon.  After work we head to Lake Tahoe in the rush hour of the late afternoon. We had two other friends with us in the minivan we rented so we had lots of opportunities to make fun of everything happening around and making conversations. We got to our campsite in Meeks Bay on the east side of the lake just past 11pm, feeling cold and tired.  It was easy to appreciate the warmth of the sun in the morning.  Later, I got tanned even more, my face is still burning in fact. We used up the day to hike as much as we could keep A walking and spent the afternoon at the beach. Although the water was super inviting I spent the time laying down. My brain and body feel tired indeed and I couldn't be more grateful for a free afternoon to just lay down even if for 20 minutes.  The evening was a pleasant second night at the campsite. It was not as cold and we got A to bed on time so we ha time to chat a bit. It was out twelfth anniversary too.  We had the cake in the morning and after two days from its baking it wasn't too bad at all. We made the beautiful Rubicon hike from D. L. Bliss before leaving the lake. The water in that section is just magnificent. But that beautiful hike cost us the after noon rush hour to Bay Area. I'm just anxious to get down in time to return the car, unpack the camping stuff, and pack my conference bags for an early flight to San Diego tomorrow.

De-stress

I watched a documentary on Netflix on the subject of stress: Stress: Portrait of a Killer.  It summarizes the research of a Stanford biologist, Robert Sapolsky who had studied the effect of stress on the body and longevity by observing a society of African baboons for decades. The study has targeted baboons because even though they are wild and aggressive, when it comes to stress they are very much like humans.   It notes how stress has been vital in our survival in the wild and helping us being driven.  Yet at this point in time we are under constant stress living the social life in this modern era and never able to turn it off.  His findings show that the higher one is rank in one's society the less the level of stress related chemicals in the blood.  This observation was validated by studying the high- and low-ranked workers in the British social works: how having higher control in what one is doing makes them less stressed and more productive.  Moreover, it showed that being socially bound makes you less susceptible to low immune system.  Then it summarizes another study on how chronic stress adversely affects one's longevity.


I then researched a bit on how to live a stress free life.  Now.
Here is my plan of action:

Doing one thing at a time - in progress
Physician activity - continue with my biking and elliptical but also got myself a gym membership with a pool
Creativity with my hands - I yearn to sketch again ... haven't done anything about this yearning yet...  I like to think of cooking as a creative activity
Meditate
Be - with my family, with my life, with me

Yesterday I spent some time reading a new British novel with many new words and phrases for me like "bloke" while M and A were installing our new BBQ. I then went to my hairdresser and challenged her to give me a new haircut that is funky but easy to maintain.  She cut a full bang for me.  It is chick and I got lots of complimented afterward even though I myself am not too happy with the results.  Yet it was fun.  I planned my workouts for the week to come in my spare time waiting for my appointment and also chat with a friend.  On way home I sang out loud with Ebi and Dariush and got home preparing for the dinner party we were hosting.  It was lots of fun having friends over.  I always like having company and this group of friends are really nice to hang out.  M worked out a fantastic BBQ kabob for dinner and I took care of the rest.  Finally we all sat down for 6 hours of Settlers of Catan, we got to bed at 5AM.

Now it is a lazy Sunday.  I feel restless for a vacation.  For some reason I am not looking forward to my workday tomorrow.  It is so unlike me.  I am not a kind of person who goes to work just because.  Perhaps  is time for some sort of change.  I should really get on planning for a good week off work in the end of summer before A goes back to school.

Stressed

I am grateful for a week coming to a conclusion with a lot of accomplishments and an episod of an awful headache coming to an end.  I do not want to experience this headache again.  It was not a pleasant experience; forced me to appreciate the healthier days.  And to appreciate life as is.  I realized I was not always emberasing life and that made me feel stressed.  Perhaps it is mainly the resistance I have against the course of the events that is making me feel the stress.  And the stress of not having stress is adding stress.

I miss A a lot lately during the day.  I am not sure why.  But I am thinking I need some time off work and with him.  I know we went to Canada mid last month and it was great being away but me working off-site prevented us from having a relaxing time.

I do not want to argue with life any more.  This is my life.  THIS IS my life!

I know it is hard.  I know that I want to manage my work and my home and my friendships and my health and my soul.  Then it becomes hard to manage them all.  I am contemplating why that is.  Isn't it all to make a better living?  I want to live a good life.  I want to be able to look back and feel proud, whenever the end of my life comes.

I was told once by a wise woman to enternalize achievements.  I know I am not.  I still seek a good deal of approval from outside and it is not the healthiest most effective source; I know.  I just need to worl on that.

I try to be.

I am.

Heartache

You left.  You just turned around and walked your drooping shoulders out of my sight.  I was watching you from the opening of the door, left wide open behind you.
I felt a pain in the middle of my chest watching you go.
I asked you to leave.  As simple as that.  And you left.  As simple as that.
I thought you would protest.  I thought you would be shocked.  I thought you would pick a fight.
But you just sighed, turned around, and walked out the door.
I thought you were in love.
The pain in my chest was blocking my throat.  I got up; and closed the door.

A Time for Misunderstanding

On the phone he asked: "why didn't you send the file earlier?".
I had generated the file but just completed it.  "I didn't have the file earlier" I said.
"But you had the file number yesterday!".
"Because I generated the file yesterday but it had no content until today."
"Oh!"
"Do you really think I had the file but I didn't send it to you?!"
"Yeah!" he replied.
Does it matter if I say "Well! You are wrong"?
..........................
Unrequited love
A time fore misunderstanding
..........................
I asked you to keep the word.
You did not.
A time for misunderstanding.
I wont ever ask you to keep a word again.
A time for understanding.
...........................
"We cannot meet next week but possibly in a few weeks; when are you available?"
"Are you punishing me?!?"
Would it matter if I said "NO!"?
A time for misunderstanding.
............................
Don't tell me that you do
because I wont believe you.
A time for understanding.
.............................
Love the turn of circumstances!

The Inevitable Change

My grandparents had fruit trees in their backyard.  A persimmon tree, a pear, an apricot, a black cherry, a white cherry, and a couple berries.  It was a ritual every summer to go there with all the cousins and pick ripened fruit from the trees.  It was fun and at times it felt like a chore.
We were kids.  We thought things were permanent.
Today, it has been years since last I picked up cherries from that tree.  It has been years since my grandpa is gone; that placed is sold, demolished, rebuilt.
It makes me feel sad a bit lately.
C'est la vie!

PS: I got promoted to a Senior level, again.  First time it was more than two and a half years ago when I got granted Senior R&D Engineer title, then down graded when moved to marketing, then back up again.  Now as of yesterday I have the Senior Global Product Manager title.  Now this is the kind of change I appreciate ;)

Lost ... Found ... Lost?

On Friday night, I woke up in the middle of the night in tears from a dream of loss.  I stayed awake in bed, praying for the well-being of the person I thought I had lost in my dreams, and lulled myself back to sleep.

Then last night we got the news that the shaikhs of the circle were exploring leaving California for Kentucky. I guess the "leaving" fact haunted me right away...

A few years ago I was lost.  I was looking for a reality so close I knew I was missing it and so far I could not comprehend it.  The more I looked, asked, searched, read, the less I found.  One day a friend advised me to continue asking, that if I kept believing it would for sure manifest. So I did.  So It did.

As peculiar as it felt at the time I felt a strong vibe pulling my attention towards the southern hills of Santa Cruz.

Miraculously I was found.  By a circle of friends, deep in the hills of Santa Cruz, all filled with love, all true in their hearts, enlightened by the lights of the Truth.  It was so easy being there, smiling there, loving there.  I felt belonging.  I felt anchored.  I thought that was the very reason I was brought to California.  I thought I was found.


Now the shaikhs are leaving; what will remain of a circle without the center?  I woke up feeling some sort of sorrow blocking my throat; like how I woke up in the middle of the night on Friday night feeling a sense of loss. What about all the Truthful vibes I felt from those hills? Will it be a hollowed memory of an anchor when they are gone?


I got home past midnight.  M got up and listened to me telling him the news.  "I guess we are going to Kentucky" he said.  That was exactly what I told D.D. and D.G. in our ride to the circle.  Not sure if we would.  But I appreciated the thought dearly.


"All the Divine asks of you is your attention" said Shaikh Kabir last night. I am sure this unknown will unfold in due time. A new chapter will begin...


Happy Birthday Shaikh Kabir!