Cent jours de blogs

Chucking in the bricks

I would not have thought it possible and I would neither put it down to discipline nor determination, it just happened, and this is one of those blogs celebrating a landmark of the inconsequentially mundane.

For a personal blog that is not for profit, not for profession validation, without an agenda, or set up to influence or promote a brand, to have written at least a blog a day for 100 days in a row is probably an achievement and maybe it is not. It was only in April after over 16 years that I managed to write a blog for every day in a calendar month and then repeated that feat in May.

Blog - A calendar month of blogs

Checking all the bricks

It does not get any easier to do, there are days when I am only minutes from midnight before I post something, that I get to post early in the day is not guarantee of multiple posts for that day. I am however happy to get something out no matter how irrelevant and idiotic it might be. Some might say I am able to blog with effortless ease; nothing could be further from the truth.

Whatever the case, it feels good to note it and there is a possibility that it might happen again. Thank you for coming by and reading my blog. All the best and Godspeed.

Lost in the stewardship of expectations

Stewards on a ship of life

We are stewards, people with responsibilities to care for, employed to look after, appointed to supervise arrangements, engaged to manage or look after things.

In our stewardship, we cater to people and events, we put things in order, we manage resources and things, we ensure that arrangements follow some process or procedure.

Yet, stewardship can extend to the management of ideas, time, and expectations. The management of ideas which would come from a range of thoughts can inform decisions and direction, see one take up opportunities or even chart the course of destiny.

The management of time is one of first the awareness of its presence, the marshalling of things to fit schedules and procedures, maybe arrange meetings, even it might just be the plain knowledge of it for the purposes of punctuality which is the fundamental expression of consideration, courtesy, and respect to others. It is always appreciated.

The stewardship of expectations

The more nebulous one is the stewardship of expectations. Expectations are not usually set out clearly, as aims and goals to aspire to. People just expect that from influences, association, observation, education, or plain common sense, combined or discretely, that those of whom much is expected do not need to be addressed on the matter apart from receiving a commendation.

Yet, in the stewardship of expectations, many of us fall short, short of the goals we have set for ourselves or of the standards we are expected to demonstrate without direction, instruction, or tutelage. Falling short of expectations leads to disappointment and sometimes dents the structure of trust which could defeat the goals of enterprise.

We can fall and claw back up

Expectations, the many for which others harbour regret, for what could have been, if only other things were equal. Our imperfections laid bare before those we have not pleased, the promise we make to both ourselves and others to do better, sometimes without a clear knowledge of whether incapacity, indolence, or carelessness informed our plight. We could be more soulsearching and introspective.

In this, one should beware of becoming sanctimonious, for the danger of being consumed with hubris looms large. We as sinners seek sainthood that could be out of our grasp, but we strive on regardless. In our humanity is the salvation of the helpless. In our humility is the recognition of true remorse.

In the end, for the question asked in the measurement of expectations, nothing but honest answers will suffice, to vacillate is to infuriate. Matters will not be helped if we cannot candidly own up to our failings.

Thought Picnic: It's a life thing

Adjusting horizons

Many people wake up to a day that goes slow, even so, that it is boring. They go to work feeling already exhausted and unexcited about things. This goes through a rinse and repeat with such regularity that the routine becomes the constant refrain.

To another, the day is but a day, one of many of which the least exciting is just one out of otherwise better days and that is how to set our perspective. So, when it was opined that workplace lethargy had not yet set in, the obvious response had to be, “It’s a life thing, not a place thing.”

Today of all days

We would not enjoy everything we do, where we are or how things are done, but we can decide that it does not begin to define our outlook and cloud our prospects. It is not a case of having an unnecessarily sunny disposition predicated on vacuous optimism, drudgery should not make life look like a forgery.

Experience suggests the mindset accounts for most of how we tackle issues, challenges, setbacks, or triumphs. A sense of gratitude regardless of circumstances remains a way to count one’s blessings whilst preventing or avoiding despair. I do not say it is simple, but where you keep your peace when you have nothing good to say or contribute and decline the access to murmuring, grumbling, and complaining.

Look up and look ahead

The battle is in the mind, if things are not going right, do not slip into letting things go wrong. I walk through to a better situation, I have hope even when it seems hopeless, I set expectations to comprehend and complement beyond the extant. Today is the day we have, but life has a bigger timeframe, we make the best of the day and in the scheme of things, one bad day is not the totality of a good life.

Keep living, It’s a life thing, not a place thing.

In the mystery of soon

Every moment I think of you,
The strains of a song filter through,
In my mind, I always see your face,
Unlike the lyrical lines of good emotion,,
You have never had a smile out of place,
Not once the appearance of contortion,
And for the tears, I could easily trace,
It was for the love we celebrate.

O boy, I tell you, I really miss you,
No one can tell what we’re going through,
For I do long to touch and kiss your face,
Let loose this rather pent up emotion,
When we return to our lovely place,
The sight of you erases all contortion,
As my heart to yours is more than a trace,
In the mystery of soon, we’ll celebrate.

[]

On your visit to Akinblog Hall

A journal of intent

There are very few people who are regular visitors to my blog and so readers of what I have been writing for 17 years. It is, however, important to state or maybe restate the purpose of my blog. It is a journal, not necessarily in the traditional sense of a leather-bound or a spiral-bound book with illegible handwriting.

I would not even pride myself into thinking some of what I write is even intelligible, I have simply put a somewhat personal diary in a public space. It is now the best record until a book is written of many aspects of my life, recollections, memories, expectations, plans, ideas, opinions, and much else. I hope it is kept alive by my survivors in some way or form.

Welcome to Akinblog Hall

One could even suggest a good deal is extemporaneous and developed in the process of writing. When I first thought of writing this blog, I imagined a palatial estate with expansive grounds, a large gate that opens unto a meandering drive that feasts the eyes with nature and the manmade, before you arrive at a big house or a small hut, as you are either overwhelmed or underwhelmed at what is before you.

The house is built to my specifications and taste, decorated for my comfort and situated to provide the best views of my entire. Visitors are attended to with the best hospitality can offer, a white-glove service, if you may. The hope is that guests have a memorable experience.

If occasion warrants it there will be a time to capture a visit in posterity, a picture in a frame to hang in the great hall and one you can take away as a keepsake. My house is also my home, in it I have the freedom to be myself without hindrance or prohibition.

Always guests, never prisoners

What I am saying is this, my blog will cover so many things including conversations I have had with people along with the crazy thoughts that are formed in the analysis of people, events, places, or things. Obviously, I will disguise personalities and sometimes find the form of words to address very personal issues, so they cannot be attributed to anyone in particular, when it can apply to everyone in general.

I apologise if you think anything I might have written is inadvertently about you, but if blogging is about how you see things and how you are affected by those things, it should be no surprise that this blog stays true to that concept. Returning to the idea of my blog as an estate, I receive guests and take no prisoners. Read it liberally, with an open mind, the way the words make sense to you might not be as intended, it is all without prejudice. Surely, I should not have to write an expository blog too.

The kids are not for kidding

Pretty much annoyed

The infuriating stance of an ambush is the stock in trade of one whose inability to recognise the need to take others into confidence and consideration on matters for which resource and means would be desired.

To have suffered skirmishes of this sort without remedy or remediation is not just taxing but frustrating. You decline to be confrontational even when it is called for, deferring and genuflecting in the hope that reticence and reluctance would convey a message that words have failed to attempt.

Don’t kid the kids

The generational baton is held tight in geriatric obstinacy with the expectation that each command gets commensurate and submissive attention and acquiescence. The terms of this game are changing as the words hit the page.

How we selfishly forget that the quality of cultivated relationships from forebear to descendant presents the template for them to engage the world. Defy the laws of courtesy in managing that flow and strip them of autonomy, agency, and the ability to hold their heads high because the frame of reference is poor.

After the entreaty of interlocutors and intermediaries, if not at one’s wit's end, one can confidently say there is neither obligation nor responsibility to fulfil. If you cannot be respected, then nothing should be expected. It is not a transaction; it is virtue parents must learn by adaptation or coercion.

Thought Picnic: An ambivalence on acquiring knowledge

On the things I am sure of

Twice I have been asked when I broached certain plans for the future whether I have considered the viability of the opportunity and if the decision is one that has been made with a full set of the facts.

In both cases, I averred that I was convinced of my determination to act and I have the good faith assurances of the other party in the enterprise we have agreed represents our common future.

Obviously, these matters are not ones for which you have prognostication that presents a well laid out route, but there is the hope that some prescience and good judgement has informed the circumstances necessary to agree to the terms.

On the things I am unaware of

Then I remember that there are questions that I have never really had answers to, probing questions those friends asked to measure and gauge the sanity of a prospect. For all my curiosity I do realise that I exercise much reticence as not to be that intrusive. There are things I do not know at all that became known either in conversation or writings, it makes me wonder if more due diligence is required.

There is no reason in my mind to have doubts or reservations, but it could be exercising the abundance of caution to be less reserved so that any inquiry is addressed to the satisfaction of the inquirer. For a commitment of this sort, the fair-minded would expect that more intimate knowledge engenders compatibility and common interests.

On the things I think I have deduced

There are times I have attended interviews and when directly prompted about whether I have questions declined the offer. Some might think this the lack of preparedness, whilst in the art of conversation, you can elicit and deduce facts, getting questions answered through direction or distraction, the other party unwittingly divulging what they might not willingly accede. Now, even when moot, I produce a question, usually something left of field.

I will confess, there are still many things I do not know, probably none is that important, I cannot tell. I doubt it is one for which the question, ‘What do you want to know?’ will suffice, because there is no idea of where to start.

On the things I might learn of

Some things are too deep-seated to be eased out in a confrontation, they will only be teased out in affinity, sympathy, or empathy, where a personal recognition of experiences trips a light switch to make a hidden thing visible.

For this, several intercourses are expedient, the meeting of hearts is a foregone conclusion, the meeting of minds is a process of continuous learning and the rubbing of minds for the building of lasting relationships. I know what I do, some unknowns need to be known and on the things that might be categorised under whether I need to know or not, that would be on advisement. My thoughts are for now in the embryonic stage.