Paris Metro Blues

The struggles of life

Shine through the wrinkles on their skin

In their tired, soft eyes

Dark circles,

Just like mine

Mascara and concealer cover up the truth

They bring tears to mine

All of us from a different place,

Separate,

Yet we share this confined space

For a few minutes of this life,

Together,

Perhaps there’s a smile,

And then we move on,

Never to be in each other’s company,

In this same moment ever again

We Live a Fragile Life

We live a fragile life.

It takes extraordinary resilience and perseverance

To make it,

To be someone who is heard,

Who is seen,

And applauded.

But what is it that sets us apart?

What are we looking for, who are we trying to be?

And why?

We are desperately searching to be a hero, to stand apart from the crowds-

to be the avant-garde artist creating, exhibiting despite and beyond the rules of society,

to be the professional football player who started out barefoot in some obscure village,

or to be the blind musician with sensibility that moves the observer to tears.

There is a mental struggle,

An inner resolve never to give up,

never to allow obstacles to distract us from the fruit.

Are we trying to be meaningful and useful?

Perhaps

We look to be respected, accepted, in this world of treacherous competition, where we hang on by the tips of our nails,

Perpetually sliding.

Sliding down the slopes of love and empathy.

Inequality is the nature of our reality.

So, deal with it

The tears cry down, flooding entire towns and cities leaving them damaged,

Destruction is all around us as buildings collapse and children lie underneath, caught in the rubble.

Maybe they survive, and work through the darkness of factories, collect garbage for pennies, or train hard hoping to one day be compensated for their football or basketball skills,

All this to pay off family debts,

Debts that are there to get these same kids off the streets in the first place.

So that’s why we fight so hard to make it.

Tears stream down the rolling hills.

The fear of living, of loving so deeply sets in, and then the worry takes over,

The anxiety clouds the spaces of freedom that are sometimes created.

Ok, where to next?

To pockets of independent, detached, thinkers and friends living isolated lives.

Together.

Yet alone.

Are we ever deeply touched?

Are we avoiding reality, ignoring parts of the world that penetrate human suffering, that live and manage to laugh regardless of the pain?

So can we have it all, the depth of the suffering, the drive to make it and to stand out, the connected friendships, love, and the tapestry of intertwined lives?

Can we make it big? Big enough to pay off the debts, to patch up the holes of embarrassment and humiliation that came along the way, especially for those who have close to nothing.

Have we sacrificed softness and love for ambition?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Dreams Can Come True

Maher and I met at university in Montreal when I was barely 19 years old. Understandably, (at least from my perspective;)) I wasn’t too serious about the relationship and decided to keep it light, emotionally.

A year after we were together Maher moved to Beirut where he started working. I insisted that I would stay on in Montreal to finish my degree. What was supposed to take me one year took me two to finish due to some mistakes in my understanding of required courses.

I spent the summers in Lebanon and Maher visited me in Canada once or twice a year. On one of those visits I wasn’t in good shape. The long distance was taking its toll on me. I wanted us to be together. I was falling for him more and more. Over time. That’s part of my story with Maher. A slow, long process of falling. Deeply. In love.

So me in my naive, idealistic manner I suggested we move somewhere together right then. Maybe a small town or an island in South America. It was rather close and most importantly, it was warm.

Maher, the grounded practical one entertained my request jokingly, and asked, “And what would we do? With what money do you expect to live?”

“Well,” I smiled dreamily, not really believing in what I was saying, “You can teach sport, maybe a running group, and I can teach dance.”

Maher was running everyday, even through the Canadian winters. His limit for running in the cold was -20 C. He always encouraged me to run with him, motivated, even coached me.

And I missed dancing. I had danced since I was 5 years old and while in Canada from the age of 17, that aspect of my expressive movement life was missing.

“Hmmmmmmm…..” he sighed, and that was the end of that.

At least until about 15 years later.

Now.

We made it to out warm tropical island, albeit in Thailand, the other side of the world, and we are manifesting that long forgotten, distant memory of a dream, Maher with Samui United Academy, his new project for football and sport camps and me with a funky little dance/ fitness/ yoga studio I am taking on.

A friendly, fun, confident dance and fitness instructor, Ashley, whose classes I’ve been enjoying lately walked into his studio one morning. I was the first person there. We bid good morning, kiss each other on the cheeks, and I ask him how he is.

“Well….” he starts as he tells me how he is planning to leave Samui. Suddenly and for good. He says he will sell his studio and do what he loves most, which is arranging weddings. Back in Europe.

I was gutted. It was such a great space and so convenient, so close to my kids new school, a spot where I had met so many wonderful women. In such a short time.

I took what was one of his popular classes, “dancersize” followed by TLTA (tums, legs, and a tight ass!) to hip music, blaring, all of us chattering and clapping, laughing, often speechless from being pushed so hard, but there was the feeling of being part of a tribe that got us through it!

At the end of the class he made the announcement to everyone present, that he was leaving Samui, that he was selling.

My shy self waited for everyone to leave, then practically whispered to him “I am interested in the studio, please send me an email with more info.”

And this was literally two hours after I had heard the news, two days after I told my psychotherapist I felt ready to teach again, and also 2 days after my doctor reduced my meds.

Today, three weeks later, I have been given the green light to get off the medication altogether. Today three weeks later, I gave Ashley a goodbye hug as he handed me the keys to the studio.

I feel that I am flowing with life, that it is intriguing. Full of surprises and love. How different from when I was 14 in Lusaka and a suicide attempt survivor, 20 in Montreal drinking too much, depressed, and dreaming of warm weather and lightness, 26 in Chengdu running my little yoga studio on my own and burning out, to 29 and birthing premature twins, to 35 in Samui and having a complete mental health breakdown, to today!

Manifesting dreams.

I have many, many people to thank for their love and support over the years, but Maher is the one I choose to bring up today. We’ve been together 18 years now, and we made some dreams come true because we came out of the rough times together, stronger, more open, with a trust that we could improve and live our lives in support of each other.

That was a mouthful!

Here’s to more adventures, more connections, more risk, more love and laughter!

From One Woman to Another

The woman with the deep chesty cough,

She exudes sadness through her tears, even through her sweet smiles.

She throws her head back in abandon as she laughs

For a month she’s felt the raw soreness in her throat as she:

Cough cough cough coughs!

Developing a 6 pack that hurts now.

From a separation, to challenging societal norms, unperturbed by the reactions of her grown children.

I caught it from her, took on her pain,

No judgement,

Without words, a visceral connection.

From one woman to another.

My Dragonfly Life

Listening to the sounds all around me

On this land of coconut trees and blue seas

The insects are humming to their fullest

Making the most of their weeks as beings

Flitting from here to there doing what they should be doing

I am pondering on my own story

As I am fluttering from one place to another

And buzzing around in other people’s wonderings

My dragonfly life seems to be continuing on

Moving away from the mindless bouncing around

Into sweet moments of creativity

We’ll be Butterflies

Sometimes alone

Sitting and watching

The breath recharging

At other times included

Feeling safe and together

Belonging in a sense

Living on this land and it’s dreams

Of pirates and no rules

A paradise of stillness in its views

Forgetting the suffering of the confused

Lost in the intricacies

And the fear of being

First the old then the young

Maybe next lifetime

We’ll be butterflies

Alone Time

A moment alone, a cherished one

So deep is the desire to dive into the cool, yet the tiredness holds her back

Maybe a nap will take care of the fatigue

Her heavy eyes rest in silence,

She listens to the background sounds of the jungle

She does what she can,

She drives from school to football to dance class

Communicates with strangers to set up extra lessons, workshops, and tests

Designs costumes and builds tents fit for princesses

Combs out lice, not once, not twice,

more than thrice!

And now, a bit of alone time is in order

If not, she will collapse,

Possibly relapse

All she knows now, is a bit of alone time is in order!

Exhaling

Into the depths of despair

She plunges head first

Fingertips break through

Not a splash is seen

She confuses fatigue with darkness

She searches for routine, for stability

And up she comes,

Fingers reach for the surface

A gasp of air, a lifting

She looks out at the view

The creativity flows

And back she dives exhaling,

Into the depths of the unknown

Words

It’s all slipping out

Now, all of a sudden

Rolling off my lips

Syllable by syllable

This new expressive form

Of love, of coming through fear,

Of abandon and yearning

Sounds coming to life

Now, all of a sudden

Rolling off my lips

Syllable by syllable

A striking, piercing gaze

Unshaken by doubt

From boredom to creativity

Words become pictures

Now, all of a sudden

Rolling off my lips

Syllable by syllable

Timelessness

Without beginning or end

There is the here and now

The essence of love

Is evident

Even as emotion runs wild

The presence of life

Is immediate

I look into my child’s eye

Where to now?

The unknown space of lightness

Of joy

Of depth in pain

Of surrender

In this timelessness

There is space to ponder

Only

On the here and now