Prodigal

Sometimes I wonder if you would take me back
Or if you would spit me out, turn your back on me and command I leave,
Disgusted by my audacity to claim your heritage
Sickened by the nerve to finally come home and expect a party.

Sometimes I wonder if you think of me as a foreigner;
A child who left, by choice, the sanctuary of your embrace.

Would you look at me?
Would you embrace me?
Would I be welcome?

Or have I shamed you?
Have I shamed you by not coming back in all these years?
Have I shamed you by allowing my accent to change?
Have I shamed you by making friends who are like family in this place?

Or have I made you proud as an ambassador of your offspring?

Africa, would you let me in, if I came home tonight?

Recession Obsession

When necessary I am fairly frugal, but I can usually justify indulgences with the argument that the world could end any minute, so I tend not to feel completely deprived.

The “Recession”, which used to just be a topic in my World History text book, has people obsessing and looking it up on Wikipedia, joining the Facebook Cutting Coupons group and acting like it is the first time they heard the phrase “History repeats itself!” The last time people freaked out this much, it was because they were not “Y2K compliant!” Now, before you go calling me insensitive (You know I will pull the I-haven’t-seen-my-siblings-in-5-years card!) it is important to remember, that everything is based on perspective and I only ever profess to writing from my point of view and the way you see it, is the way you see it. We can agree to disagree. Respect doesn’t cost anything! But I digress.

People are stronger than they give themselves credit for, especially in the society in which I live. The very fact that we have so many choices makes us feel weak and unable to deal with a lack of choice when it arises (AKA* ADD**) – and also why the retail industry robs us by using marketing tactics that make it seem like it was our idea to spend our dollars on their products.

The recession is like a cure for said ADD, mainly because it narrows down the choice we have on what to spend our money on, usually to the necessities, which allows us to be more appreciative of the indulgences we can justify once in a while. It will make us more compassionate of the communities who do not have the choice of whether to eat or not, or whether to vote red or blue, or which pair of shoes to wear on any given day. It’s not about feeling bad, it’s about being aware, so that if you can, you can get involved directly, to level the scales, or you can simply be appreciative.

So, when the graph of your personal finances starts to look like an upside-down exponential curve, remember that we are all dealt a different hand and sometimes the cards really suck and to win, you gotta know which ones to hold and which ones to fold and whatever happens in this round there will be an opportunity to deal again. History repeats itself.

*Also Known As
**Attention Deficit Disorder

Karim’s Lucky Map

Karim taught me about the lucky map.
He taught me that it is a secret map. A map that only he can see.
And to show me he used the flyer in the pew to manifest it to me.
He rolled it into a scroll. “You see, it’s my lucky map” he said, grinning.
I grinned back.
Karim’s lucky map.
“I’m a pirate with my lucky map,” he said.
No doubt the church was his ship, and the congregation his wanton sailors!
He didn’t seem to care what the map was leading to, or what it symbolized…just that he had it and that it was lucky.

I think the real message to me today came through Karim.

Time’s awasting, while I try to figure out what it is I should do, which road to take, what to pack, how to get there, who to take with me, what to prepare for. Time’s awasting while I ask these questions with no answers.
Time’s awasting and it can never be returned.

What can I learn from a 3 year old?

Just be.

Wherever you are.
Whatever you have.
Believe it and be it.

Your map, only you can see.
It is inscribed on your brain, in your thoughts, in your dreams,
And it is lucky.

Time’s awasting,

Get moving.

Meeting a Knight

Today I met Sir Richard Branson.

I knew exactly what I was going to say to him.
I had been rehearsing it for about 2 weeks.

I got to the bookstore on time and even purchased his book…the cheaper older one, because I am poor…and stood in the winding queue waiting for autographs.

He is human, I kept telling myself. A person, just like you. The queue slowly inched forward.

Then something crossed my mind. I had intended to ask Sir Richard Branson what the difference between him and me was. But that seemed suddenly ridiculous, since there were so many obvious differences between us. And what I wanted him to confirm, was what I already knew, that they were all trivial. So I searched my brain for something more meaningful to discuss with the founder of one of the greatest business empires of all time.

Then I remembered that during the interview session, he had spoken about “the Elders” – a group of wise people brought together by him and Nelson Mandela to advise and help reconcile the world’s problems. A fluorescent, energy efficient (because I am in Canada and we are green!) light bulb went off in my head…Zimbabwe!
So as I neared the stage where Richard was signing away, and my palms got progressively sweatier, and I felt my voice box start to shake uncontrollably, I knew what I had to say, Please ask the Elders to help my country!

Alas, I got to the table, and I must have been dazed by his golden locks, because no speech came out. And now I thank my parents, because as he transcribed my name off the little yellow post-it note, he warmly said, “Well, you have an unusual name.” “I’m from Zimbabwe,” I blurted out. “Oh yes, he said, I was just talking about your country this morning.” “Are the Elders going to help my country?” I spluttered. (It is shear torture for me to re-live this!) “I sent them all an email this morning actually. It is a shame that we couldn’t get in there sooner, but if Thabo Mbeki doesn’t succeed soon, we are definitely planning on helping.” “Thank you,” I said.

And then I hung around like the worst kind of groupie until he had finished signing all the autographs and done a second press interview, just so I could get a quick photograph. And Sir Richard Branson hugged me! And I felt the hugs of Nelson Mandela, Princess Diana, Oprah Winfrey, Brad Pitt…

I remember that his hands were warm, implying there is blood in his veins.

He is human… as I am.

And regardless of the obvious differences, what we have in common, is that we were both born with the potential to be the very best we could be.

And I went weeeeeeeeeeeeee, all the way home.

Spin off...!

http://one4dinner.blogspot.com/

Winner by association!

I went to the Scotiabank Waterfront running thing this past weekend. I believe the scientific word for it is marathon. What an event! There were runners from all over Toronto, all over Ontario, all over Canada and yes, you guessed it, all over the world. And no, I was not one of them! Have we met?! But I was so proud to know one of them!

Tendai! Woo Hoo! My heart was pumping so fast as I saw her come around the last bend, that I wished I had entered it into the race! "Go Tendai" I yelled. Woo Hoo! Across the line she went! Way to go! What an adrenaline rush! I literally felt like I crossed the finish line with her! That was how awesome it was. Hugs, pictures, bananas and vita-water later, we went for brunch. Two ladies lunching and chatting about the wonders of their new city...their new life.

I'll never understand why people run, but after watching my first marathon, I know exactly why people turn out in droves to support. Because there is something about watching someone you know...friend or family...accomplish something they set their heart, mind and soul to...that makes you feel like a winner...by association.

Thanks Ms T!

9/19/08

I recently slammed a door shut, heel swivelled and stormed away...

But as I turned, I caught a glimpse of another door.
One that I had locked and bolted years before.

Curious Catwoman,
I stared at it.
And as I did, I began to see...
Visions
Memories of a past time,
All seemingly positive and happy.
Nothing bad to remind me why I had closed the door in the first place!

Perhaps I closed the door because there was something wrong with me
I thought.

I inched forward...peering
Timid...but driven with excitement.

I unbolted...
I unlocked...
I knocked...

And with the voice on the other end, came flooding the memories from that day...

The day I stormed,
The day I heel swivelled,
The day I slammed that door shut.

Someone said, "When one door closes, another one opens."
Someone else said something like, "If a door is closed, a window is opened."

I'm wondering, why all this opening and closing doors and windows and portals and damn pandora's boxes?!

I'm doing away with doors and windows.
Handles, hinges, locks, bolts, all of it!

I'm thinking outside the box!

Because I am secure enough not to confine you to my life, nor to shut you out of it.