Picnic Thought: I stand forever blessed

When great adversity strikes

“My son asked me if I missed work and I replied that I missed the respect.” Jo Harris [Story]

These were the words of a judge who lost her voice to motor neurone disease, first found ways to cope through technology and sadly lost her life to the disease.

I heard her story on BBC Radio 4 and decided to search for information about her because there is something about the stories of people whose lives have been changed so radically by debilitating disease that more than basic adjustments need to made, that resonates with me.

Times of my life

In certain times I remember that my life now has a timeframe, BC and AC, Before Cancer and After Cancer, the man I was before illness and the man I became after the illness came and the radical way it changed my life.

As I have written in many blogs before, as I lost my health, I lost position, status, possession, things and in some ways respect.

Blog - Thought Picnic: It's Goodbye to Oostelijke Handelskade 1121

Blog - Thought Picnic: When Things Don't Matter Any More

Much as I have had a semblance of stoicism and maintained a sense of dignity, I might have even been an object of sympathy towards pity, even to a point of ridicule bordering on reproach, yet like a child rebuked, I could not talk, and like a rascal disciplined, I could not fight back.

Blog - Thought Picnic: My Virtual Friends Are NOT Insignificant

Blog - Thought Picnic: I've become small money man

Blog - England: How Lewisham Single Homeless Intervention Prevention humiliated me

Blog - Thought Picnic: That Kick to be Delivered to my Behind

Standing misunderstood

Buffeted on many sides by adversity and perversity, I stood, maybe cried, but was never bowed, the spirit in said said, the indignities to the point of gross disrespect from rejections on the flimsiest excuses at interviews to having no place to lay my head for the night, but for the grace of God and the amazing kindness and humanity of many, it shall all pass.

Blog - Thought Picnic: As Runner-Up Miss Congeniality, I Didn't Quite Make It

Blog - Homeless! My exciting life takes a new chapter

There was a distinction in the prayers my father and my mother prayed when I called to chat to them. She almost swore me to secrecy that the happenings in my life would not be shared with him, but whatever animus they had between themselves I have striven not to allow affect the relationship with my parents.

She prayed for recovery, he prayed for restoration, the prayers are being answered, the speed varying from miraculous to meandering, as a story of life unfolds in the experiences that have defined the existence I have lived, survived and thrived in.

No guilt would hold sway

I lost much, missed much but regretted little as I told my clinical psychologist when she finally accepted my case on being persuaded that I needed someone to chat to because I did not exhibit any of the classic psychological or mental illness issues that I should have presented considering my circumstances, I could not live in regret when there were many blessings to count, little and large.

Maybe fundamentally I refused to condemn myself in the things I allowed whilst the process of handling guilt is still a process, if I cry over how much I have beat up myself, eventually I must get to a point where this vicious circle of the inflicting pain in the hope that some gain would arrive in recognition of my many stupidities has lost its power to assuage my iniquities must stop.

I stand blessed

That is what has won through, despite the external battles that seemed to have the upper hand presaging defeat, internally in my spirit and in my mind, I decided, I would not be overcome or overrun, and I would rise like a phoenix from the ashes of a life and a lifestyle destroyed by illness because that is the core essence of our God-given humanity.

Yes, I missed the respect, sometimes the honour, but I remained respectful, honourable, presentable, optimistic, striving, bettering, working, expecting, trying and most of all living. In the process change has come with renewal, ability, opportunity, recognition, some respect, some acknowledgement and some honour.

I am blessed and with that every other care simply fades into insignificance.

Why Do I Blog Again?

The ‘Why do I blog?’ Question

Every once in a while, I find myself writing one of those “Why do I blog?” pieces. Sometimes, there is no particular answer to that question, when I consider the times I have written the silliest stuff and found that someone else can relate to the silliness.

It simply means no life or life story is insignificant, we all have stories to tell and we restrain ourselves from telling those stories because we over-analyse the interest, the import, the humour, the readability or our ability. The simplest stories are sometimes the most impactful to the reader.

Then again, in my 14^th year of blogging, I can assure you that blogging is not easy, it is difficult, it can be inconsistent especially if you set goals for blogging and most of the time, there is no inspiration or drive to write anything, for days, for weeks, though rarely ever months.

The way you feel

I have written many times before that blogs are the way you see things, how you are affected and possibly what your opinions are. By the time you’ve written a sentence for each of those points, you already have a blog. The framework or skeleton of a blog is a blog, you don’t have to stress yourself about it.

I did not start blogging to gain popularity, notoriety or recognition, I just blogged because I have an active mind, lots of thoughts, many thoughts crazier than you can ever imagine and out of my love for expression. That I have garnered any readership of my blog is just fortunate and I am grateful for that.

It’s about moments

I am not a professional blogger and my activity on other social media platforms as Twitter, Facebook and Instagram do not substitute for the rich expression in blogging. Blogs are more manageable. I would go as far as to say that you may rarely get the inspiration to blog, do not depend on it as the impetus to write. Blogging grows out of moments and if you live the moment and cherish the moments, you will always have something to write about, your perspective of things.

Life is full of moments and that is what is unique to every individual, each moment is a story mostly untold. In some cases, all I have done is to begin to write or type, the thoughts become the words that become the blog. I wrote this in the waiting room of a clinic this morning.

The masterpiece of self-expression

The length of a blog is immaterial, some blogs are long and others short, there is an art to expression and the canvas we are offered to express ourselves is broad and free, if we dare to wield the brushstrokes daubing the canvas with colour, we might end up with a masterpiece – live dangerously.

Why do I blog? I blog because my life is full of moments, some forgettable, many memorable and in all, the moments are journaled into what has become a 14-year catalogue of what is essentially an ordinary life.

Everyone is a blogger, you have moments, those moments are stories, stories that need telling. Start telling your own story in your own words. Start blogging.

Why do I blog? Over the years.

Blog - Tardy as it goes (January 2004) Written after a month of blogging.

Blog - Blogging for my own pleasure (July 2006)

Blog - Still learning to write blogs (January 2010)

Blog - My Own Blog Writing Rules (May 2011)

Blog - Thought Picnic: Losing the might to fight (write) (March 2012)

Blog - Blogging: Facing the shame of my bad writing (September 2013)

Blog - Blogging: Why You Should Blog (October 2013)

Blog - Thought Picnic: Finding purpose in the therapy of my blogs (November 2013)

Blog - The Gift (January 2014)

Blog - Thought Picnic: On why we should all blog (September 2014)

Blog - Thought Picnic: And more graffiti with punctuation (September 2014)

Blog - Thought Picnic: I write to please myself (July 2015)

Blog - Why do they read this blog? (November 2015)

Thought Picnic: Our Truth

Introduction

A friend once commented that I have a way of making a deep analysis of very simple issues – maybe it is a foible, but true to that observation I have decided to start a topical blog called – Thought Picnic – You get a brainwave and suddenly decide to go out into nature with a picnic basket of snacks and fellowship whilst admiring the beauty of nature.

The Thought Picnic visits the imponderable, sometimes it would admire thoughts, thinking or ideas but then there are times when it would all seem incredible, astonishing, amazing and downright outrageous – but that is a matter of opinion, not necessarily fact.

My first Thought Picnic appears below, it does not follow my stricter attribution system but all references are fully acknowledged with the text.

Lying to the truth

George Michael wrote in his song, Freedom – “All we have to do is take these lies and make them true, somehow”.

We find ourselves in a situation that we cannot trust that we are hearing or reading the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Your opinions against the facts

Sadly, we are caught in a war of opinions about all sorts of issues which is fine and we have Senator Moynihan to thank for saying, “You are entitled to your own opinion but you not entitled to your own facts.”

What then is fact and what is fiction? Who documents the facts, who verifies the facts and who publishes those facts?

Those are the difficult questions and this is not helped by a comment that gives this blog its title; made by an Israeli representative this afternoon about their YouTube uploads showing their precision targeting in one of the most densely populated areas in the world.

“We are showing the world our truth”, she said – that elicited a wry smile from me, but truth has become a commodity to be managed and traded by those who can control access to the raw data that is gathered together to make up the body of facts.

The truth in the grist mill of propaganda

That way you find that journalists are not allowed in Gaza as the defence, retaliation, discipline, containment, war, massacre, carnage or genocide depending on which opinion of the facts appeals to you most from how each side wants you to view the situation.

And so we find that governments are unable in the main to tell the truth and so they repackage it for consumption and for those who do not bother to research beyond the headlines; who do not seek the facts, the detail behind the facts and whose agenda is being promoted; they are the sponges for what is conveniently called propaganda.

They are at pains to offer a perspective that is almost plausible but sounds so hollow to any right-thinking person who applies commonsense to the issue, it makes you cringe.

If I may, propaganda is the manufacture of a perspective to obfuscate the facts in order to create a truth of what is usually blatantly a lie, just because someone somewhere does not believe we can handle the truth – the resources required to maintain the machinery of propaganda is unwieldy.

Fact or perspective?

But in the game that juxtaposes fact against fiction and truth against opinion the big battles for the mind and elicitation of support for each position then becomes.

Almost 400 Palestinians have died in Israel’s precision targeting of Hamas infrastructure in probably the most densely populated place in the world whilst 4 Israelis have died as a result of Hamas’ imprecise and random home-made missiles falling on Israeli border towns - what is the significance of the numbers of the dead and people killed compared to the effectiveness of each campaign?

Is Palestine a worthwhile cause in the face of the purported defence of Israel against terrorism, the walls being built, the settlements that thrive or the supposed aggression of Israel against Palestinians in Gaza?

Is Hamas a legitimate democratic choice of the Palestinians or the pariah of terrorism as seen by the West?

Are the problems of Zimbabwe caused by white rule or black rule?

Should there be a free press including complete Western access to all issues, events and people in Zimbabwe and would this depict the whole truth?

Is the government of Sudan justified in crushing the rebels in Darfur?

Do your research

There are many questions and what suffers in finding answers to these questions is the way the opinions get in the way of the facts, the truth suffers for the portrayal of a preferred lie and the most disgrace propaganda tools are deployed in the process of presenting a manufactured view as news.

The old saying avers that all that glitters is not gold, but if we do not scratch the surface we would have paid for something that is probably completely worthless – it is incumbent on every consumer of information to objectively seek the facts and peel off the veneer of news and opinion to get at the truth – Do not be sold on everything that seems to agree with your pre-disposed sentiment.

Thought Picnic: Levitating on the confusion some have about me

This is who I am

On the public pages of my Facebook profile, I wrestle with the urge for an outburst whilst exercising considerable restraint. To be honest, I don’t do much on Facebook, the greater traffic of material comes from Instagram.

I take pictures and write long captions to them and post on Instagram, with the option for the same posting to go to Twitter and Facebook. Before Facebook severed the automatic posting facility from Twitter, the bulk of traffic to Facebook came from Twitter.

Other activities on Facebook involves posting reactions to comments, I find I can get involved in several discussions, debates or disputes, it is all good for engagement.

I am not taking that

However, the issues on Facebook are some questions that get posted to inputs from Instagram. I was kissing my boyfriend and someone I hadn’t had any interactive contact with for over 3 decades came round with the question – What am I seeing? I didn’t bother answering the person, I deleted the question and eventually removed him as a friend.

Nothing is as annoying as people who have lived abroad for decades but have not escaped the myopic frame of reference that limited their vision of a diverse humanity since they were in Nigeria. It is no secret lest there be the surfeit of assumption, my normality is different and probably does not fit in the concept of the normality of others. I am different, not abnormal. Difference is a function of diversity, not one of abnormality.

I owe no explanation

There are realities about myself that I know, and I do not need to explain to others, just as I do not intrude in the affairs of the busybodies who cannot hold their counsel. All the conclusions you probably want to draw have been drawn, I am not conventionally married, I have no children in or out of wedlock and fundamentally, I have never been attracted to the opposite sex.

It is something not understood in some societies, yet it is fully understood in others from a scientific, medical, logical, psychological and physiological perspective that we not only have the abrogation of Victorian-era laws but the promulgation and enforcement of laws and rights for protection and acceptance of the somewhat minorities who need not fear to be themselves and in that thrive as worthy and celebrated members of their communities, little and large.

My life is not a lifestyle

Then let’s disabuse ourselves of that misconception, lifestyles are about choices you can make when there are options available to you. Sometimes, a lifestyle is an adoption of a persona, a façade, a veneer behind which you hide, hoping no one would find out who you are. A lifestyle is usually looking for a sort of conformity, a pretension to normality you do not have, and you are constantly looking for a mask when you’re not looking in the mirror.

Living your own life is a long way from living a lifestyle, it is the point where you have become true to yourself regardless of what others think. It is where your individuality is expressed, and uniqueness is what you choose to be. It is where your heart beats, your soul rests, your mind sings, and your happiness begins to glow. Life is where you are becoming the best of who you are not caring about pleasing anyone, but if anyone is pleased, it is a bonus.

Life is where you have accepted who you are and know you do not need a cure for who you are. It is also where you can travel with those who accept you and jettison those reject you. It is where you soar like an eagle and find the champion in life that you are. I would marry who I choose to love and marry, and we would together decide what we want to make of our own family. Those choices would not be made for me by anyone else other than with whom I have chosen to live my life.

Related blogs

Blog - Thought Picnic: My perception made me choose South Africa

Blog - This is my life, this is me

Blog - Thought Picnic: I know I do not need a cure for who I am

Blog -Thought Picnic: Accept my choices or lose your voices

Thought Picnic: Know the joy of hope

Open to embrace

In the last 5 and more weeks, I learnt a lot that came from doing what I know to do and continuing in doing what I know to do best, being myself and no other.

In probably 4 days of interacting with my colleague, he could read me like a book, imitate my accent, take words out of my mouth, laugh at me and laugh at my jokes, we were developing a bonding trust that I hope would result in a lasting friendship.

The people I work with are my friends; if part of your life and some of what gives meaning to life and existence is at work, then the people you meet at work should be trusted to form productive relationships with, I do not do miserable at work, not if I could help it.

Thankful for the past

No clearer has this been than in the many congratulatory messages I received on LinkedIn, the moment I changed my status that I had found work, it was not just the congratulations, but the blessings of encouragement that accompanied them from wishing me the very best to saying it was well deserved – I can only be thankful.

I did continue doing what I knew best, I attended too many interviews to mention where what was asked of me was well within my capabilities but my answers to their questions were not entirely to their satisfaction.

They chose others or returned to the market seeking a more perfect fit, yet, I desired not to be perfect but to be human, to know and yet to be curious, to be smart and yet inquisitive, to be challenging and yet understanding, my pursuits are many yet I would not be chased down by things, I have received the blessing of knowing myself without knowing what the future holds but one of hope and expectation.

Battered but not weary

That hope and expectation led me through days, weeks and months as I pondered and thought, but returned to write in the strength of knowing that whatever it was that bothered me in health, in wealth, in good fortune, in choice or in opportunity shall pass, and pass it did.

I look for the opportunity to bless for words have been granted me to speak and to write, though some seek the lesser of me by using the worst of themselves to interact, neither of us come away blessed from the encounter as I am both saddened and restrained in what great damage the appeal of words so unedifying could have, if written or spoken – in that, I seek to be a more perfect man.

Driven by desire, I have erred and still I find time and place to repent for the better I can be, my darkness fades to let in more light.

In hope, I still stand

When I left home, I had nothing to my name, but the possibility of building a reputation, friend and dear friend open their hands and urged me on, what I feared became what I could dare and as some other heaped indignity upon indignity on me, I walked the path before me unsure but assured that change has come.

Three weeks ago, I wrote something that informs a result today, I stuck with what I knew and with it came something I never knew was held in store for months when I had little or nothing peering into nothingness.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Moderating my decision tree

Then at the limit of what I thought I could endure, I wrote again, something difficult to express, yet a reality I could not suppress.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Opportunity, Lack and Situation - Help!

The joy of living

What I thought I would have to wait for because I had literally completely run out, yet I never panicked about, but left it to take care of itself, today brought surprise, amazement and laughter. That is the joy of living.

Know the joy of hope, be ready to bless, keep expectation high, desire good in all things and watch the unexpected work in your favour by people, things, times and circumstances all without your prompting that it seems miraculous. Before you pooh-pooh it, I have faith, tomorrow is another day.

Thank you.

Thought Picnic: Amy Cooper and Christian Cooper - A better conversation

In a more decent world

It is very possible that Amy Cooper and Christian Cooper when they met in the Ramble at Central Park could have had a different conversation.

Seeding it with the initial exchanges between them, I do wonder how this whole sordid affair could have ended differently. I have no skill in creating dialogue, but I hope my crude attempt gives some perspective of a kinder and more respectful world.

The original conversation. [From Christian Cooper’s Facebook Page]

How to have a polite and friendly conversation with strangers

Christian: Ma’am, dogs in the Ramble have to be on the leash at all times, The sign is right there.

Amy: The dog runs are closed. He needs his exercise.

Christian: All you have to do is take him to the other side of the drive, outside the Ramble, and you can let him run off leash all you want.

Amy: It’s too dangerous, [How the conversation changes from here.] but I appreciate what you’re saying. I’ll put the leash on. I’m sorry.

Christian: No problem Ma’am, it’s just that dogs run through the Ramble chasing the birds off.

Amy: I’m really sorry. I see you have a fine pair of binoculars there, are you are a birdie [UK: birdwatcher]?

Christian: Yes, I am, Ma’am. The Ramble does have some surprises in the quiet of the day, I am hoping to see an unusual bird.

Amy: I have always been fascinated with birds, I did not realise the Ramble was a sanctuary for birdlife. I’ll be sure not to let my dog run around here again.

Christian: Not to worry, Ma’am.

Amy: Please call me Amy.

Christian: I’m Christian, nice to make your acquaintance.

Amy: My pleasure, it's lovely to meet strangers with fascinating interests like birdwatching.

Christian: It is a good break away from my work at Marvel Comics.

Amy: Wow! What do you do there?

Christian: I am an editor.

Amy: That’s nice. A friend of mine who loves Marvel Comics told me of a recent change in characters and depictions. Like it has taken on the zeitgeist with queer characters.

Christian: Yeah! We thought our storylines should be more representative of our broader community.

Amy: I can understand, diversity and inclusion is something I have tried much to spearhead in our company. I have felt there is an amazing pool of talent we have not yet begun to tap effectively to make a difference in our company and to our clientele.

Christian: Interesting, what do you work as?

Amy: I am a VP at Franklin Templeton.

Christian: I have heard of the firm. Look, let me not keep you, your dog is straining for a run.

Amy: That’s alright. Here’s my card, it was really nice chatting to you.

Christian: [Looking at the business card.] Cooper? What a coincidence, I am Christian Copper.

Amy: How uncanny. I’m sure our paths would cross again. Have a good evening.

Christian: Thank you, have a good one too. [They smile at each other and go their different ways.]

Christian returns home to write about the chance encounter with an amiable and pleasant lady in the Ramble. Sadly, they both found out they shared the Cooper surname as a consequence of the malignant cancer of racism. Knowing what we do now of Amy and Christian, they were capable of considerably intelligent conversation. It never happened.

Background blogs

Blog - Thought Picnic: Black Lives Should Matter Always

Blog - Thought Picnic: Can we pass the test of character and virtue at a chance encounter?

Thought Picnic: My long dance with failure

The smarter of a big bunch

In primary school, I can say I was brilliant, though not good enough to beat Maya from Bulgaria to the first place.

I never revised or liked homework, examinations and tests were always a chore, but I did what I had to do, coming 2^nd most times and probably 3^rd once. In my last year, I was out of school for four months doing common entrance tests for secondary schools in the Nigerian South-West, when I returned, I still came 10^th out of 22 in the class.

Just average

Secondary school was a different regime, homework and assignments were part of the continuous testing regime apart from the end-of-term and end-of-year examinations.

I probably wrote the shortest scripts and was out of the exam hall in half the time, my performance in those terms were mediocre and scores average that I was in the top fifth of the class, but hardly celebrated.

Many of those ahead were naturally gifted and smart though the teaching technique of learning by rote and evaluation in some cases of regurgitating lesson notes verbatim in answering exam questions would have had me handicapped. If I was endeared to any teacher and there were a few, it was because I was articulate, we never had oral examinations, no, not the dentist.

Succeeding at failure

After secondary school, the first four years of study in two different schools yielded nothing, I did not need to report the events at the first where I was advised to withdraw because I made it into the premier polytechnic in Nigeria of that time.

Much as there were distractions, what I realised with hindsight and I have written about before was I never really made headway academically. I attended classes I completely drew a blank in, I was like a zombie in class but able to thrive in student union politics and getting co-opted into religious activities.

I played truant in secondary school and here too, the classes were boring, the teachers were evil and the lecturer was either bombastic or had the worst command of English ever, it was tortuous beyond belief, I had to extricate myself. The die was cast for tragedy.

Depressing the F-key

I was in trouble and somehow I did not understand what it was between depression and probably something worse because the mental capacity was there, but the engagement was missing, it was like I had no purpose or direction and before long my world came crashing down.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Are those blanks signs of depression?

Under duress, I repeated my second year after my father pulled all the strings to get me readmitted but I was far gone. At the end of that year when the results came out, I left home to check my results first running an errand for my dad.

I did not return home that evening, I went missing for well over a week and there began a new chapter in my life, an acknowledged failure, the child of role model parents, between them a successful accountant and a secondary school principal of 10 years.

That is the lay in for my next blog. The link would appear in the blog below when I have written it.

Blog - Thought Picnic – My world, their world.

The light and shadows in the pictures I narrate

The conclusion is obscure, for now

Sometimes, you start a blog with the intention of sharing or revealing something, yet, as what you are about to write is so visceral, even if elements of it have been shared on another social media platform.

The basic elements of the said blog have been written but I cannot find the mental energy to complete it at this time. It pertains to someone, the significance of today for that person, what certain encounters with that person in an apparent place of safety wrought on the psyche and innocence of another.

Whether that blog would be concluded for eventual publication, I cannot tell, but I know the full story would and must be told for registration and a cautionary tale about those we allow to have access to impressionable children.

It’s all in there somewhere

Then, I think about the fact, you cannot have written almost 4,000 blogs and not laid out the crumbs, however, there is no guarantee that the crumbs will lead anywhere safe, you can join the dots though sometimes the dots need to be numbered for the intended image to be revealed.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Preserving childhood sexual innocence (July 2009)

Blog - Childhood: Shocked into adolescence (August 2009)

Blog - Childhood: My aunts saw red (September 2009)

Blog - Childhood: Ghosts and ghouls of my past (September 2011)

Blog - Thought Picnic: The Barrier to Confiding in our Guardians (May 2013)

Blog - Thought Picnic: Before you call him a man? (July 2013)

Blog - The damage done when parents fail to listen (February 2015)

Blog - Reflecting on the brutal rape of my childhood innocence (August 2015)

Blog - Living around shadows of childhood violation (June 2021)

Thought Picnic: Seeing the more in the person

Just as it is

I recently had a series of exchanges that pertained to relationships concerning significant others. My inclination to err on the side of full disclosure has meant that in most cases the discovery of who I am does not come as a total surprise.

Being open about my sexuality since the early 1990s when it was not popular and sometimes frowned upon in the workplace was not to exhibit flamboyance but to address the scenarios where loose talk might cause unnecessary and avoidable offence.

I have been quite fortunate that I have encountered very little discrimination on the matter. If you ask a direct question, you will get the answer, when I was in a relationship, who I was in a relationship with and what we planned to do at the weekend. Relationships have always mattered to me because it meant I had someone with whom to share life experiences, unconventional as that situation might be.

Engagement with due consideration

In many cases, I have had colleagues ask questions, seeking information or enlightenment, sometimes about me, about themselves, or someone else. I would speak from my experience and understanding of issues, whether it be curiosity or having to deal with the situation of a friend abandoning a marriage for a new journey of self-discovery.

For me as a person, it matters and when others give due consideration to it, acknowledge it, respect it, and genuinely enquire about my well-being by embracing that context. It is why I felt quite enamoured when a prospective colleague deduced from my frequent travels and other information I divulged, that those journeys for whatever length of time they were for, were essentially family visits.

As we love to be loved

It is important and it is about my well-being and happiness rather than about anyone else, we choose our friends and much as we choose our partners, all familial and extended relations have the choice to embrace, reject, or be indifferent, but who an individual has as their significant other remains so regardless of opinion, for a different kind of intimacy exists between partners that is not present with any other.

There is something about being fulfilled and completed by certain associations, you may not understand it, but it exists, and it is what it is. For me, Brian represents that significant other and to be loved, cared for and supported like I am can only be what anyone else wishes for in whoever they have chosen to be their partner.

We should be careful not to be tempted to dismiss the importance and significance of the intimate relationships of others.

Related Blogs

Blog - This is my life, this is me (February 2019)

Blog - Doing what I do for love (September 2019)

Blog - Brian, My Funniest Valentine (February 2020)

Blog - Finding who all matters with (August 2020)

Blog - In my heart and in my mind (April 2021)

Blog - Thought Picnic: Understanding my greater good (May 2021)

Blog - This is deep stuff now (December 2021)

Blog - Make Someone Happy (April 2022)

Blog - Thought Picnic: Mostly, one is not alone (May 2023)

Thought Picnic: I rise with gifts to help

Knowledge is a resource

Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I had the resources that gave the opportunity and privilege, in have that, I realise that such comes with great responsibility in how the resources are used, to what ends, and to what purposes.

Indeed, I am fascinated by those who recognise that what they have should not be abused subscribing to a higher principle or cause that serves justice and humanity.

I will not pretend that I have acquired to that standard of altruistic contentment, the emperor of my entire and all that can be surveyed. It is no less something to strive to, not for self but for others in knowing what to do with what you have got. I am surprised how watching the mundane can elicit profound knowledge.

Wisdom is in servitude

I do not consider myself a leader or a mentor, yet, I find that I am thrust into situations where by perspective, experience, inclination or engagement, something is demanded of me to which I must rise rather than shrink. I do not delude myself into thinking I have the powers of persuasion, but I can paint pictures and scenarios, hoping to bring hearts, minds, resources and commitment to a side.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Considering the blessing of people in my life

That one does not have a burning passion to win at all cost, but to have done enough for options to be seen and decisions to be made gratifying, even if what I have done is create opposition rather than acquiescence. If anything, I have been honoured to influence and even if I had wished to be better resourced, I hope to have done anything I have done to the best of my ability.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Don't lose the honour of the opportunity to help

If fortitude should bless me with greater responsibility, if I have acquitted myself well with little, I cherish every moment I had to engage, if a mission calls, send me with the wisdom of life I have been given to live.