And those of us, who spend half of their lives seeking an answer. Who got the guts to mercilessly go after it and commit to find it. And the minute they lay their hands on it; they spend the other half of their lives looking for supportive answers, or even opposite ones, just in case they got the wrong one. They become over-ready they rotten in their own over-ripeness, and the seed of salvation dries once and for all. We asked the wrong question.
And then you realize, that growing up has nothing to do with living in the mind, with stiff face muscles. It’s all about enjoying your craziness, every bit of it, to dive in your own depth, and develop your intelligence. Growing up; is to be a child once again.
By Majd Radwan
So tell me, what do you do when you’re not having fun anymore? What is your plan to fill the gaps in your heart; and what’s left of your time on this earth?
Tell me about the hidden demons, the strange and discreet unease inside, and the vacant look in your eye.
Tell me about the urge to disappear, and the reason behind every heart beat of yours.
Tell me about the long-sought love, the not-yet-felt-contentement, the aspirations locked in the drawer, and the overwhelming power that draws you to your own company each time the surroundings fail to touch you.
Tell me about your sorrows, and if you ever managed to uncover the hidden message behind their existence. How does it feel to stitch a broken heart?
Tell me about your first reaction to anything, your nostalgia, your first love and your first kiss.
Tell me, how does it feel to carry a heavy weight that doesn’t even belong to you? does it leave you the time to watch the smile on your child’s face?
Tell me about the golden bars of the cage, the handcuffing obligations, and the forgotten wide-open-door. How does it feel to swim with the current and cut all ties with the poetry of simply living?
Tell me when your tear becomes warmer and your smile is brighter?
Tell me, when was the last time you watched the sunset? or sent wishes with the wind on a starry night. When was the last time you stopped counting days, and threw your watch away?
And then tell me, is it worth it? To trade your soul for a flat life, to tame your wildness for security, and to worship forced interactions instead of celebrating the rawness within.
Is it worth it? To stick to normal instead of testing the bonds of your imagination only to discover that there are none, to hold on to patterns while you have the whole world to shape and re-shape, to shut down your sense of wonder instead of enjoying blissfully the odds all around that you took for granted for so long.
Tell me, tell me that it’s time, time to wake up to the fact that you are here to Be, not to Become.
By Majd Radwan
To be or not to be, that is the answer. That is the sole answer life has to give you, every time harsh reality hits you hard in the heart. The choice is always yours, and you’re ‘obliged’ to choose; to surrender or to give up. There is a big difference between the two terms, just like the difference between contentment and complacency. (Find it.)
This is not one of Hamlet’s soliloquies, it has never been a question, at least outside a play, It’s a cliff instead, fly to the haven of new possibilities or fall in the valley of hurt.
Each time you feel abandoned by the whole world, knocked down by unfairness and damaged people that your heart cannot break to smaller pieces anymore..it’s there, the answer_cliff. With time, you’ll get used to cliffs, you’ll have many in your lifetime, and you’ll get to be an expert either in flying or falling, no other way out.
Life is made up of simple things sophistically combined to shape our stories. Coming to this life armed with colouring books and crayons, along with the sense of wonder_we gradually forget who we are, as the earthy life starts to introduce itself to us. We move on with our lives, keeping_instead of crayons_many coloured masks in our closet, each one for a special occasion. Disguised under the dress of normality, we strive to be a number, in school..in love..in humour..in beauty..and in fame..till this maze called life makes us forget how to draw, till the spark of wonder disappear and our eyes turn to two dull holes. We deliberately learn to tame our soul, blindfold it, seeking winners’ death instead of simply living. what a life!
You were fed since you were born that without money, education, husband/wife, high_level connections you are helpless and invaluable, to the point that you start to believe that you’re an ugly dependent, a consumer totally insecure, a failure on two legs, terrified to stand alone with your own map.
Now look for the big moments. No; not those big moments..not that definition of big moments. I mean the ones you skipped your entire life, your so long-dumped-calling. The moments that concern no one but you, that include no one but you. The moments you were in the perfect alignment with your Self but you were hardly aware of it.
The moment you feel like a stranger, in the middle of your closest friends and family members. Your need to flee the ordinary and break free from rules and obligations to recharge your balance.
The moment you feel bored, and you try to silence the calling with food, thinking that it’s your stomach’s calling, while it’s your soul’s aching to manifest at some level.
The moment you chock with what you’ve learned so far, that you feel the urge to unlearn everything and start all over again with your own terms this time.
The moment you fall in love with someone’s thoughts, that you want to make love to their mind, wild and severe, and you start to question the everlasting warning stuck in the back of your head since your childhood: “don’t talk to strangers,” which leaves you victoriously entertained with that feeling of “home” with each and every ’stranger’ in this world, convinced that even criminals and politicians have something in common with you.
The moment you wake up to the fact that you’re no longer the person you were yesterday, that you’re an ever changing energy, a change in process. And you like it.
The moment you move your head downward and wish to disappear each time you win, even on a small scale like hitting ‘strike’ in a bowling game, because you’re too humble to act as a winner.
The moment your voice shakes and fails to help you make your point in a restless argument, and you leave the room desperate as ever. You find consolation in your own thoughts.
The moment you question the reason behind the sad look on saints’ faces, and you feel that you deserve to see happy suffer-less saints’ paintings instead.
The moment you notice that the ones who feel everything deeply are always lonely_hearted.
The moment you sit in a cafe and examine people passing by, trying to build a story in your mind for each and every one of them, and you even undress them to imagine them wearing the cloths you think it fits their body shapes better.
The moment you look with stillness in the eyes of whoever is talking to you, and see yourself in there, same hidden desires,and same melancholies in disguise while sitting professionally there, as tranquil as ever, trying to communicate with you in the wrongest way.
It’s your soul constantly trying to communicate with you, but its wave crashes on your shore every time the noise of ‘thinking’ invades you.
Have you been to such places? were you aware of these moments? The moments of the most intense company; yours! You’ve never been alone, you always had YOU..’YOU’ was always trying to talk to you, to bring your attention to your ultimate companion; your awareness.
You are seasons of joy and despair, fulfillment and disappointment, laughter and tear, earth and sky, light and dark, let yourself happen. Embrace these qualities and flaws, tragedies and victories, and let life happen. Be.
All these moments were there for a reason..to remind you of who you really are,,that you are much much bigger than your burdens, that such beautiful soul knows your now problems are your future gifts in disguise.
These moments were never a privilege to riches, nor a quality of artists.They happen to exist in each and every human. Sit for 10 minutes with a homeless in the street and he’ll pour his words of wisdom in your ear. These moments connect us all, we insist to swim in shallow waters.
We are terrified by the new ideas, by change. To hide is convenient and safe. To appear is dangerous, but what’s convenient is never satisfying. Glory is never to be found in the safe. Choosing to be a victim may sound comfortable, but be aware that playing the victim you become in a way or another an oppressor. What we hold inside is who we really are, don’t stamp it with shame or ignorance if you haven’t experienced it yet.
To fall is lame, to bend is resistance, and to fly is freedom.
“Do your thing. Do it unapologetically. Don’t be discouraged by criticism. You probably already know what they’re going to say. Pay no mind to the fear of failure. It’s far more valuable than success. Take ownership. Take chances, and have fun. And no matter what, don’t ever stop doing your thing.” ~Asher Roth
By Majd Radwan
I’m a defiant spirit, unruly and hard to handle, rebellious fire against all parrot-like behaviors.
The words system, authority, control (and sometimes sharing) make me nauseated and alienated. I may look normal, but if you stare long enough in my eyes you’ll get burnt. Don’t try to tame me with boring normal rules. What makes me furious or content is hidden in the last sources you’d expect.
You get to choose to stay around my storms or leave peacefully to your favorite comfort zone.
If you expect the below list to include words such as love me, hold me, I need you, I’m sensitive, don’t make me cry, then you live on Earth and I on Mercury.
* Don’t bring me half-dead innocent flowers. Let’s just sit on a bench outside, contemplate the same flowers swaying lively with breeze. Now this is romantic.
* Don’t hush me if my voice helplessly rose. Get your soul closer and never say a word. It’s all about the distance between our souls.
* Don’t buy me lingerie on special occasions, for you’ll be only gifting yourself. Bring me your true self, with few warmhearted words, and your name on it.
* Don’t seek perfection with me, it’s boring. I’d rather spend the night talking and laughing about our small and big flaws than worshiping our ultimate achievements.
* Don’t tell me you feel I’m too much for you… for that will make you not as much for me. Seek my empathy, not my pity. Remember: you’re my man.
* Don’t frame me with adjectives such as delicate and romantic, for wilderness and wildness are my two main hidden characters that may make a glowing rainbow of me. Dig in deeper.
* Don’t take off your clothes in front of me on purpose… the intention to act sexy without spontaneity is not sexy at all.
* Don’t sit in the very same room with me because you have to sit in the very same room with me. Go find your passion. Follow it. There is no rule but one: there are no rules.
* Don’t take me for granted, for edges and cliffs are my passion.
* Don’t read books about Venusian women. It’s individual. Know that I feel humiliated if you keep telling me how beautiful I am.
* Leave out the pointless concepts of domination, possessiveness, and expectation. Ban them from roaming poisonously between us. They’re no relatives to love, they’re its worst enemy.
* Don’t drag me to pointless conversations. Take a 10-minute rest before judging the situation, let calmness sweep the air around, and peace shall be found.
* Don’t ask me to show you all of my sides, for each moment comes with its own emotion. Give up the flashlight, and plant a seed of love instead. You will definitely be showered with warmth.
* Don’t judge me by my short skirt or hot lipstick. Take a glance at my library. Watch me while I’m asleep, or hugging my child.
* Don’t try to shape me. Take me wholly, a package of transparency and mystery, advantages and flaws.
* Don’t ask me to wear pink because I’m a woman and I’m supposed to wear pink. Embrace my differences. I shall be more feminine in blue.
Chers men, they may come as clear as the sound of a bell, or disguised as a dark shadow of a good act, an unintended letdown, small gestures of yours that may have a negative effect on your woman, especially if she’s one of those accurate observers of details and echo-feelers.
Here’s a hint that it’s happening: read your woman when you say or do something for her. Pay attention to this empty smile, blank look, opaque tinge on her face. These signs happen in a fraction of a second, then comes her thoughtful reaction followed by a long silence.
They’re so different from her reaction to a wonderful surprise, just so different. This is it — the nudge, the alert that you’re coming across poorly, a quick wave of disappointment is spraying her up, even with your good intentions.
If you feel the burdensome responsibility weighing your shoulders about this whole thing, then read again.
You must have missed that all it takes is a big bunch of your mindfulness to turn her back on.