Dare, if you will

©Jean L. Hays

“If you don’t ask, you’ll never know”. Christian sighed. He was playing restlessly with his fingers. It was obvious agitation had the better of him. He stood silent staring at the old warehouse.

“Well, go on, will you? You won’t know unless you go for it”. His friend was urging him forward but he wouldn’t move.

For someone with so much ambition, he scared too easily.

“Fine, I’ll go and ask”, but as soon as the threat became real, Christian woke up and marched inside.

It turns out the warehouse was for rent after all. It was his first atelier.

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The option of retaliation

The wind howled waking her up almost constantly. It was hard to sleep soundly when you were constantly worried that your entire house would be blown down. For a person already overcome by anxiety and stress, this was almost too much to bear.

The morning began with rain in addition to the gale. It was ice cold outside.

She had promised to meet him at their usual café. She was comforted by the fact that it was almost certain the fireplace would be on today.

He was already waiting for her when she arrived. But, following the gentleman’s rulebook, he hadn’t ordered yet.

He smiled widely upon laying eyes on her. His whole face brightened immediately, bringing out the sun in an otherwise freezing day. She was still reserved. It wasn’t easy to let things go so abruptly. To forget. Overthinkers have this disadvantage. They remember everything. Especially the bad things.

He reached out to grab her hand but she pulled back using the cold as an excuse.

He was seeking another chance. A fresh start. A new beginning. Hope.

In her head, a million things were gushing through. Thoughts of retaliation, of payback, of making him experience the same, of handing him too the same absolute demands and the ultimatum he so carelessly gave her back then. She could feel the anger steaming up inside her. Her head suddenly felt all too hot and it wasn’t because of the fireplace.

She took a deep breath, trying to quieten down the yelling inside of her.

It wouldn’t lead anywhere. She tried to console herself. If she acted in the same way, if she wronged him as he had once done to her, there was no point in even trying to be there together.  Ghandi had said “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind”. He was right. There is a reason why one person must always maintain a superior level. Because if you too retaliate in the same way, you are no better in the end. Perhaps you’re even worse, because you knew of an alternative way and did not take it.

The meaning we give

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It was on the dining table. A constant remind of the feelings that characterised that house. Passion, love, caring, sensitivity.

Inundated with colour, the crystal vase featured seven gold-tipped roses. Perfectly stemmed, with petals opened just enough to demonstrate their purity and elegance; the roses were a gift from the heart.

They enclosed a memory of a day overwhelmed with emotions, happiness and optimism. Of a day that brimmed of hope for what was to come. For a future full of colour and love.

They were an everyday cue that love is just a word until someone gives it meaning.

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Bombarding thoughts

There comes a moment in the day when you finally sit down for a few minutes. It’s that incident when you can feel all your thoughts rushing right back into your head. Everything you’ve been trying to avoid contact with by keeping yourself busy with other things. Until that very moment.

You take a deep breath. Close your eyes and try to block everything out. But you can’t. Because at some point or other, you will have to face them. Those thoughts you so dexterously try to avoid.

They bombard your head, asking questions about how you’ll fare through with your finances; about the uncertainties that surround your life; your job; your relationship; your career; your future. You feel a cloud settling over your head and a migraine imminent. Your pulse begins to race and a panic attack ensues.

All you wish for at that moment is a furry pal to come jump on your lap and purr soothingly.

Or at least someone to come over and wrap you up in a tight hug that will expel all the torturous thoughts from your head.

You need quiet. Calm. To think clearly, you need an orderly head, tidy surroundings and a positive attitude.

Because everything will be alright eventually. Despite the patience you don’t think you have right now. It won’t be the end unless things are OK. Just remember that.

Enclosed in rose petals

©MCD

They are the ones that give colour to the flower itself. The ones you anxiously wait to grow, to bloom, to open up and reveal the others hidden inside. In a rose, it’s the petals that give it its essence.

The petals, just like the rose itself, are full of symbolisms. They represent the destination at the end of a long journey. They are what makes the climb up from the thorny stem worth the pain of it. They are what constitute the beauty of an otherwise ‘aggressive’ flower. For if you can’t grasp the thorns, you are not worthy of the flower. The petals are what accentuate the value.

Like William Carlos Williams wrote, “the rose is obsolete” for “it is at the edge of the petal that love waits”.

Flowers are symbols of love, of adoration, of caring. But they are soon doomed to wither, their petals opening up and eventually falling off. But even loose petals are symbols of love, of passion, of romance. They are the ones that hold the memories of the initial rose. Of the moment in which it was delivered. Of the emotions that overwhelmed the giver and the receiver, and of the instants that ensued.

It is not accidental that the best decoration potpourri usually include flower petals. Because they enclose everything the flower once was and everything it still remains. It reminds us that no matter how closed up we are, we can always bloom, let others past our thorns, and persist, maintaining our beauty unaffected by time.

Fear of the unknown

“Come on, let’s go!” His voice was anxious, masking the excitement and enthusiasm of a well-kept secret only he knew.

She was reserved, almost scared. Where were they going? Why? What would be there? How would they go? How long would it take? Her mind was a whirlwind of questions. She probably appeared dazed too, perhaps betraying her confusion to the outsider. So much, that it prompted him to reassure her. “It’ll be fine. Don’t be so afraid. It’s going to be fun!”

He took her hand and led her to the car. He smiled at her, his eyes glowing. She smiled back nervously. “Sometimes you don’t need to have all the answers,” he said.

When the car stopped, he turned towards her. She was gazing outside trying to figure out where they were. “Close your eyes”, he said. She was almost shocked. “Come on, close your eyes. You’ll ruin the surprise otherwise. Don’t you trust me?” It was a cheap card to play – the trust issue – but he knew she would cave to it. “No peeking either!”

She gripped his arm as he led her out of the car and up a grassy hill. The fresh air penetrated her nostrils and filled her lungs with oxygen. It helped her get her mind off the fact that her heart was pumping mad with anguish about this unknown event.

“We’re here,” he said. She timidly opened her eyes.

In the middle of a picture-perfect scene – green valley, tall trees in bloom, colourful flowers, peace and quiet – there lay a picnic feast waiting for them.

She laughed wholeheartedly and jumped in his arms.

“Sometimes not knowing too much is the best way to keep calm,” he winked.

The making of a genius

He was born out of wedlock so had no right to education. He was considered an outcast and society looked down on him. Yet he managed to ignore them all – all those eyes who stared with loathing when he walked by, as if he had stolen something from them, as if they had become lesser people because of his existence.

He was curious of the world. Of how everything was structured to make things work so seamlessly. He was astonished by the way birds used their wings to fly or how water was present almost everywhere. He had a mind that was constantly alert. His thoughts would keep him awake at night and without food, for he was too busy thinking about how he could make improvements in an already magnificently built world. He wanted humans to go further. But they had to want that too.

He was a scientist, an inventor, a sculptor, an artist, a musician, a thinker. He was a genius. One who comprehended the need to go out and do things to achieve something. One the world acknowledged too late in time.

He was the one who proved the world was a better place because of him. But people couldn’t see it.

His name was Leonardo.

“There are three classes of people: those who see, those who see when they are shown, those who do not see”

“Learning is the only thing the mind never exhausts, never fears, and never regrets”

– Leonardo Da Vinci

Hidden thoughts

We all have hidden interpretations of things others don’t see. And it is usually the ones that cause a conflict. Because people find it hard to see with others’ eyes. We can’t put ourselves in others’ shoes, nor interpret things their way.

There are symbolic meanings to everyday behaviours. Meanings that are affected by our own perceptions of the world, by our prejudices, by our mentality, by the way we were raised, by the things we read, by our own experiences and thoughts.

It is these very perceptions that give rise to our hidden thoughts. They may be misinterpretations of certain incidents. But they become so rooted in our minds that to us they are established as the reality we see.

We refuse to see a different perspective, an alternative view, because it seems illogical, irrational, in total conflict to our own. And in essence, we are too stubborn, head-strong and selfish to do something that requires empathy on our part. It requires setting aside our own beliefs to comprehend what makes others react or act in certain ways.

Such absolute perceptions and hidden thoughts make our relationships dysfunctional. They cause us to become defensive even hostile. But worse of all, they lead to disappointment when we realise that our expectations are not met.

The mind is like a parachute: it only works when it is open.