Let Us Paint The World With Our Colors

What if, just what if we were all colors?

Imagine for a second that we were all colors.

Seven billion distinct colors of us, painting our way through life.

Imagine…

Imagine that as we navigate our way through life, our colors create a single trail that represents the pattern of our journey.

Imagine that our journeys through life are mapped by our color.

Imagine, that we all start out as simple primary colors. And as we meet one another, our colors criss and cross; mix and match. No one color will be primary because when we meet each other, we take a bit of each other’s colors. Just imagine the beautiful super rainbows we would create together.

Now imagine, how life would be without all of our colors?

Imagine how much less beautiful the world would be if your color was missing. Or my color was missing. Or there was just your color. Or there was just mine.

Life is a canvas we have been given to paint together with our colors.

I hope you do not remain your simple primary color.

I hope you are colored beautiful shades and hues by the many amazing people you meet, taking a part of them and leaving a part of you with them, all of us a part of one another.

I hope you have experiences and create memories that deepen the hue of your color with character.

I hope the pattern your color draws on the canvas of life is not just a single line of back and forth, a single colored perimeter within which you limit yourself.

I hope your pattern is a burst of wide curves and crazy tangled messy zigzags that become a magnificent abstract masterpiece of a life lived thoroughly.

I hope you take chances and leave familiar trails and zigzag through unfamiliar terrains and burst in your many different hues on to new roads.

I hope shades of your color are found in distant parts of the world, far far away from where you started.

And most importantly, I really really hope you leave a swatch of your color on the world.

What color do you think is more you?

 

Things I’ve Learnt Since Coming To America- Winter Chronicle

I moved to America, October  2014 and sincerely yours, I didn’t have a big picture or dream of what I was coming here to do. I had fragments of dreams, more like individual pixels but not a complete big picture. But three things were certain- I wanted to max out this opportunity by creating amazing memories and experiences, I wanted to get the much talked about American education and I wanted to work to make some money. I have other dreams other than that but those will align as I get into the system. Quite a number of people asked me, what are your plans? At first I was a little shaken by my inability to give a more concrete answer than work and school but that seemed to satisfy most people so I was spared further prodding. But I couldn’t shake off the thought of how my other dreams fit into this new environment. I’m still trying to figure that out. Oh well, I believe it will all align as I go along. 

It’s been four months since I got here with my three clear pictures and the other blurry ones. So far, I have only had just a few experiences because, the cold. I resume school in the Fall and I haven’t gotten a job yet. In fact, the job issue has not been fun at all. I mean, if my laptop could show a history of the jobs I’ve applied to, I have no doubt it will be in the hundreds. That’s gist for another post. 

So while I await a job and school resumption, a friend of mine suggested I write about what it’s been like since I’ve been here. So, as I dey here dey observe, here’s what I found out:

1. Snow is fluffy and nice. It’s like that powdery bit of ice in your refrigerator that doesn’t freeze up. That one you spent most of your childhood, scrapping and treating yourself to, your special fantasy ice cream. Maybe you even got yourself locked up in the refrigerator once or twice while at it. Yes that one. It’s loose and sprinkly. And to be honest, when it snows, it’s not so cold. The cold is okay. that’s why people can have fun with it. But it turns evil when the sun shines on the snow and it glazes over and turns to ice. That’s when the meanness of winter steps in and spoils all the fun. Then you feel the bite of cold. And oh don’t forget the slips and crashing falls. Ohhhh. The best thing that can happen to snow is rain. It melts it and washes it away. And the best thing you can do for yourself when snow glazes over is to wear snow boots or shoes with slip-resistant soles. You’ll be saving yourself a lot of falls, I assure you.
2. Winter is a cold damn witch. Sigh. No words can possibly describe the cold. You simply have to feel it to understand. You don’t know numb until you’ve been winter numbed. The bite. The slap that brings tears to your eyes. Oh the bitter bitter cold. And there’s the crazy itch. I’m not sure if it’s caused by the dry air or the lack of blood-flow when your limbs are numb but that itch is horrible. No matter how hard you scratch it, you never feel relief and though you’re clawing at it with your fingers, you feel like you’re only rubbing your knuckles on it because your skin is numb. Instead of relief, you begin to feel inadequate as a human being because you cannot relieve your own itch. The itch worsens and then you’re served a cold topping of inadequacy. Can you see just how charming Winter is?
3. It’s all fun and funky until coats, beanies, gloves, mufflers and boots go from being fashion-statement items for denge-pose to survival essentials for winter. Oh yeah. They are actually not fun to you MUST wear them. Too many extras to juggle. But you need them to survive winter. Never leave home without them.
4. I totally love seeing my warm breath in the cold air. There’s just this tiny little thrill i get from it. At least, something good must come out of this winter somehow. I sometimes imagine, what if our breaths come out as cartoon characters or colors based on how fresh or otherwise they are? Won’t that be some fun?! Something to ease up the winter blues. Hehehe 
5. Layering is an art. A fine art. Oh yeah. Wearing up to four layers of clothing will become a stroll for you. You will learn to pile on clothes with such expertise, you’ll start thinking of making money from it. And not just any type of clothes. You’ll learn what materials are best for keeping warm and which best resist the cold; which should be the first layer and which should be the face of them all. Oh you will learn. And not necessarily through teaching. 
6. Winter is a distant relative of harmattan. It’s colder, of course. But it dries the skin too. The intricate web of cracked skin will surprise you. The humongous chunk of ori my mother gave me has been my skin savior. You gotta load up on the moisturizers.
7. Weather forecasts and meteorologists are gems from heaven. They do a fantastic job of preparing you for what lies ahead, when, how much of it to expect and for how long. So far, they’ve been over 95% correct, as far as I’m concerned and that is as near perfect as I can ask for.
8. Within winter alone, there are different variations to the weather. There’s sleet, rain, freezing rain, snow, wicked wind and just plain mean cold for no particular reason. And that’s why you need to know the forecast to know what to expect. You really really don’t want to be caught unprepared. Oh no, you don’t. Never leave home without it.
9. Get ready to second-guess your ability to speak English. Nobody cares if you were the poster child of all your English classes throughout your academic history. You will learn the art of repeating yourself to be understood. You know that popular axiom “Seek first to understand, then be understood“? Here’s my own version of it as it applies to life here- “Speak first to be heard, second to be heard clearly and then to be understood.” You will learn patience because how else can you deal with speaking a twenty-word sentence and the listener says they only heard one word? One word?!Really?! You’ll also learn to listen keenly. 
10. It will be totally amazing if you’re able to read and write. It’s essential for survival here. Except you don’t intend to go out and get things done. I was a college undergraduate (studying Communications) when I left Nigeria but I still encountered some challenges with communication. Bitter irony, right? I can’t even imagine someone who can’t at least communicate in English. It will be tough balls. Especially for older folks. If you’re bringing your parents here, have them sharpen their English communication skills as they prepare to come over. If they can learn basic computer skills as well, it won’t hurt.
11. There are so many chicken meals, you’d think there’s a chicken invasion. Or some type of fowl play somewhere. And don’t even get me started on the different ways chicken can possibly be prepared.
12. The houses here are pako houses. Hehehehehe. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be mean but I just had to say it that way. It was asking for it. They are cute and really nice but they are made of wood. I was shocked to find out. Someone mentioned that it was because of the natural disasters so that the wreckage will be easier to clear and the casualties will be less fatal. I don’t  know how true that it but it is what it is. Pako. 
13. A car is a necessity. No disputes. No arguments. Imagine that you have to commute for over one hour with public transport to a place where you can easily drive to within just fifteen minutes. People’s lives are wasted in commuting, I tell you. And I repeat, a car is a necessity. 
14. I think it’s the cold or something but people have a very disgusting habit of spitting indiscriminately. And not just plain ole spit. I’m talking the heavy stuff that comes from the intense hacking of the agbari. It’s just disgusting. And they do it everywhere. In the store. On the bus. In the library. And nobody else but me flinches. Guess I’m still waiting for that memo. So I can rip it to shreds. And burn it. Because it’s totally disgusting and people shouldn’t be comfortable with it. 
15. And another disgusting thing is the guys who stick their hands all the way into their jeans. Not in the pockets. No. Over the waist and right down into their jeans. Right into the cradle of their genitalia. I know it’s cold and probably there’s a furnace of warmth down there where they warm their freezing hands. But camman! That’s just wrong. It reminds me very unfondly of the many guys back in Lagos who urinate in public and whom I gat no love for. All I can think about is those unwashed hands touching me through a handshake or just any form of contact. I dread that. Those hands are unwashed and sullied. Gross. 
16. Wanna know what awkward feels like? Sitting in a bus or metro and trying so hard not to make eye contact with the person in front of you because, well, who wants to be the creep? It’s so hilarious how everyone keeps looking everywhere else but at each other. But even more hilarious is how everyone seem to be looking away  and reading the signs “It is unlawful to drink, eat, smoke or play a device without earphones”. There’s just so many times you can read the same, very short, signs. Yet, side eyes are busy doing all the scanning to see if any one particular person is staring. 
17. Despite the seeming detachment and on-your-own vibe, most people actually will gist with you for the few minutes you both wait for the bus or train. So long as you don’t weird them out. And you’ll be surprised, sometimes pleasantly so, at how much you can learn within a few minutes of shared humanity. People are actually kind at their core. You just need to make them feel comfortable around you.
18. The postal service is real. And I totally love receiving letters and mails through the post. Emails? Yawn. I now find it boring from overuse. I mean, this is the tech age, emails are the norm and as such, they already tend to be boring and quite frankly, overwhelming too. But oh to hold a piece of papermail with your name emblazoned on it; to savor the rustling, brittle beauty of it. Ahhhhh. Well, only if it doesn’t contain bills or a request for payments. Hehehehehehe 
19. Public libraries are also a real life thing here too. And they have fantastic books, up-to-date and all. And WiFi. That’s one of my favorite places. I sometimes wish I could be a library mouse so I can read all the amazing books in the library and be very wise and knowing. But then I remember the life expectancy of mice and I wish no longer. 
20. So also are ghettos and poor people. It might be hard to come to terms with but there are poor struggling people here too. Not everyone is rich and living large. There are homeless people who live out on the streets. In the wicked winter cold. Those movies tell some truth afterall. 
21. There are sooooo many health-related ads on TV, it’s weird. 
22. I know the jingle of most of the ads. Hahahaha. Not because I spend all my time watching TV but because they are just really nice and memorable. You can boogie-down to most of them. 
23. Not everybody loves Obama. Such is life.
24. Getting a job is a not a fun affair. I’ll break it down in another post.
25. The dollar might be valuable but nobody has so many dollars that they don’t know what to do with them. Nope. If anything, America teaches you discipline, responsibility and accountability, else you’ll be in debt and before you know it, you’re probably homeless or worse. There are bills to pay and most people’s earning go to paying the bills. Phone bills, rent/mortgage, gas and electric bills, Internet, water, health, car and other insurance, and other bills. You don’t want to be broke here, I assure you. It can be a cold cold world out here if you’re broke. And just so we get it clear and out of the way, there are no dollar-breeding trees here. Nah-ah. I checked. Nope. None. So do be considerate with making demands of Americanahs. Life is not a bed of party jollof rice here. Just like everywhere in the world, there are the good, the bad and the ugly.

I’m sure there are others so I’ll keep updating as they unfold and as I remember them. I do not wish you winter. I wish you warm, balmy days so you can wear you beautiful soft cotton tops, shorts and sandals.

#18DaysToSpring!!!

Cheers!

1.  denge-pose- show-off
2. harmattan- a dry and very cold season in Nigeria which occurs during the last few and early weeks of the year.
3. ori- shea butter
4. pako- wooden
5. agbari- the part inside the mouth, connecting the nose and the throat, I think 😀
6. Americanahs- Nigerians in America.
7. jollof- a very popular and widely loved rice meal made by making the rice with choice ingredients, especially tomatoes, peppers and onions. It’s a meal of glorious awesomeness and it’s a staple at Nigerian parties.

How To Know That Our World Is Mad

Please tell me our world is not crazy.

When a woman who has suffered sexual and/or physical abuse is afraid and/or ashamed to share her story and/or report the tragedy. And when a woman who is brave enough to speak out is doubted,blamed or silenced outrightly. A world where a girl is beaten ruthlessly and punished for being raped. Why was she there? Why was she with him? Why was she wearing that outfit? Why did he choose her and not any other girl? Why didn’t she run? Why didn’t she fight? Why was she attractive? Hell, why was she a woman?

A world where a woman is ruled guitly of being both the victim and perpetrator of a crime against her with flippant statements like ‘She must have done something to cause it’ or ‘She must have been rude or suggestive or annoying or nagging or bitchy’.

Is that an ideal world?

A world where a man compromises his commitments and he is excused on grounds of ‘human flaw; a mistake; temptation;etc’ but when the same happens to a woman, she’s very easily and conveniently labeled a whore,a bad mother,an ill-raised daughter.

A world where a man is quickly forgiven his foibles and the woman hastily hushed with varying versions of the reprimand, ‘think about your family’. Either way she turns, she always has to be the responsible one.

You know,since we all seem to enjoy this culture of “silence and acceptance” so much, I wonder just how silent and accepting the world will be if the tables were evened out. Man beats woman. Woman beats man. Good luck cooking up a convincing enough excuse for your constantly bloodied lip or your ever-present black eye or the many broken bones. But this will yield nothing but a nasty vicious cycle that will end up sucking us all in.

Our world as is not right. This is the reality. It’s insane what’s going on. It is what it is. But the great news is:

We. Can. Change. Our. World.

We. Need. To. Change. Our. World.

And this can only be done when we change ourselves. When we change how we react to situations that affect a fellow human. It’s amazing how passionate we can get about a movie or a sports match or a video game, yet we can easily be numb to a situation dripping with the flesh,blood,emotions and intensity of human reality. We need to un-numb. We need to plug-in. We need to reconnect to the reality of our shared humanity. We need one another. We share this world together. We owe one another that much.
#UnNumb

Democracy Of Storytelling

I was watching a TV show with some folks and the judges asked one of the contestants to tell them about herself. She did and in telling them about herself, she mentioned that her father used to physically abuse her mother. The folks I was with found that quite offensive. They criticised her adding that bit to her story because it was ‘private info’ and she shouldn’t have shared it on national TV. And that got me thinking…

This is her story as much as her parents’. Her parents might have been the direct participants in the event but membership in that family ultimately makes it her story as well. In addition, she must have shared in the consequences of the unfortunate situation. So, should everybody subscribe to a particular frame of acceptable story narrative of ‘cut and paste only what pleases the public’? Should people edit their stories so that it sits right with the public or majority?

Thinking about it some more, I realised that whatever people choose to share in their stories is not for us to criticise because we do not know their journey. We have no clue how important a thread that makes us uncomfortable or that is seemingly ‘private info’ is to the tapestry of their lives. We don’t know how it defines them or its impact on their experience. Therefore we should not criticise it. Nobody should be bullied into paraphrasing their story if they don’t want to out of fear of public judgment.

I believe if they cannot cut out that particular experience from their history or if that experience does not disappear from their history just by the mere act of omitting it from the telling, then they should be allowed to tell their stories just how they want to. People should be allowed the liberty of choosing what part of their story they want to tell…or not. If they are comfortable enough to tell it, we should courteously listen and appreciate the opportunity to learn from and about another life.And if perhaps we do not want to listen for squeamish reasons, we then can opt to be excused from the knowledge.

Tow Your Sea= Be All You Can Possibly Be

Beautiful New Year to you! How’s it going for you?

This has to be the most extemporaneous post I have ever written on this blog. I woke up this morning with this burning desire in my heart to share this with you.

It’s about the much talked about word Success. I’m sure there are hundreds, if not thousands of definitions of Success (in all sincerity, i didn’t check Google to confirm but I’ve heard enough varying definitions to know that there are hundreds more and I do believe that every has a personal definition, hence my assumption).

My definition of success and quite frankly, my guiding principle/ life philosophy is hinged on the way i spell my name- TowYourSea.

“What?!No way!”

“Get out of town!!!”

“Shut the front door!”

“Abeg park well jor!”

I can almost hear some of you react this way. Hehehehe. Hold up let me explain myself.

It’s not a mere coincidence that I spell my name this way. Neither is it a bid to ‘funkify’ the spelling of my name. In addition to the fact that I wanted to assist people with the pronunciation of my name, I also crafted it as a quick constant reminder to myself of what living a full life is.

I believe in living out ALL that you have been created to be.

I believe in exhausting your potentials.

I believe in being all the characters and possibilities that are hidden inside of your.

I believe in coloring the world with your own unique brand of essence.

I believe you will be cheating the world of its diversity currency when you do not contribute the originality of your essence to the world.

I believe in towing your sea rather than simply paddling a canoe through your sea.

How do you do that?

Take all the sea with you! Whoever says you can only be one thing when the capacity to be much more is locked up on the inside of you? If you have it, you need to explore it. Experience every wave and dip and crash and storm and stillness of the sea within you. Don’t just limit yourself, or more accurately, deprive yourself by sticking to one routine all your life. If you ever have an inkling that you can do something or that you just might have the ability to do something, don’t be afraid to try. That exactly is towing your sea. Try it out. Trying alone in itself is success. Getting famous for it, well that’s simply recognition. If you do try it and it doesn’t work out, you haven’t failed, you have simply succeeded in exploring that particular part of the sea and you’re done with it. If it works out and becomes a long term thing, then certainly there is more to discover in that part of the sea. Some explorations are shorter than others, that doesn’t reduce the significance of one or another.

It’s simply emptying your existence of every potential and possibility, as much as you possibly can.

On a lighter note, it’s believed that the human body is made up of more than 60% water. That means we are all, practically, vertical seas in motion. Might as well let that fact apply to another significant area of our lives, no?

Success is not being afraid to try or holding yourself back from trying. That is failure. Success is trying and maxing out all the yous you can be.

Ain’t nobody got time for ‘I Wish I Hads’ and ‘What Ifs’ when you have the opportunity for ‘I Remember When I Dids’ and ‘Yeah!I Did Thats’. It’s best to learn from experiences had than to hide because of the threats of things not working. Every experience expands our life and is a piece of the puzzle of the journey of our lives.

You might ask “But what if i can do a number of things? Am I not supposed to focus on one thing?” Well, how will you know if any one of them will be successful if you don’t try them out. And it is never too late to start trying yourself out. Infact, do you know when the best time is to try? Right now!

Travel your world!

Explore your life!

Permit yourself!

Just do it!

I do earnestly hope this resonates with you and steers you towards actions that will lead to living a full life that is empty at the end.

P.S. The artwork attached to this post is officially my first strike at graphics. I felt I could try it and I did. I downloaded a free graphic design software online and here you have it, me riding on one of the waves of my sea. How did I do? 😀

Stumbling

I watched a funny video of models who had mishaps on the runway. Very hilarious video compilation but what stuck out for me was the symbolism of it. The models made terrible mistakes, no doubt. They acknowledged that there was a problem (or at least their shoes did!) but they did not want to tend to it in front of the crowd because they wanted to keep up the show. After all the show must to go on! But it led to varying degrees of hilarious disasters.

Isn’t it interesting that when we stumble while walking, more often than not, our first reaction will most likely be to see how many people witnessed our ‘embarrassing’ moment? If you haven’t noticed, pay close attention the next time you stumble or the next time you see someone stumble. We are so conscious of other people witnessing our near-fall that we ignore the most important thing in that singular act of stumbling- ourselves! Yes! We are the sole most important element in every stumble or near-fall we experience. Why? Well, for one, we grow from them.

However, a lot of us are so keenly aware of the audience that we would rather stomach the hurt and feign unfazed; sometimes we even slide into pseudo-denial till we get to a secret place, dragging our bruised feet along and possibly causing even more damage on the way. Some of us would not even look at the stumbling block because of embarrassment. Do you know how nasty an untended wound is? Yeah, that gives an idea what happens when we hide from an opportunity to nurse, heal and grow. We need to check ourselves to see if any damage has been done and to tend to ourselves if so.

I think we should begin to appreciate the bumps and stumbling blocks we encounter in our journey through life for what they are- lessons to make us wiser and chances we probably will not take anymore.

So the next time you hit your feet, make a poor choice, make a mistake, disappoint yourself and others, don’t deny the reality of your imperfection because of fear of being judged. Don’t wear a façade of perfection just for the audience. Rather, examine the cause of the unfortunate incident, examine yourself to see how much healing you need, tend to yourself and then forge ahead, strengthened by the ointments of learning squeezed out of the experience.

Own your imperfections as part of your humanity, and forge ahead to unravel the better you that will be revealed, one layer at a time, by your life-experiences.

Alternative Me

People pressure me to feminise a bit more,they tell me to be a bit more girly,womanly,curvy…put on a more eye-candy appeal. Comb your hair! Put on some make-up! Try a weave sometime! Cinch that dress!

Just because I don’t always wear figure-fitting dresses or wear as much makeup or accessories as expected or giggle giddily at every dripping word(from the mouth)of an Alpha-male or swoon at his charm doesn’t make me less of a woman. Just because I refuse to conform to joining the race of Barbie-prototypes or squeeze into the picture-perfect frame doesn’t reduce my femininity. If I have to be so obviously feminine, doesn’t that indicate a struggle with my feminine identity?

Funny thing is,these pressures are aimed at making me more ‘male-friendly’. Come to think of it,if I do want to flaunt my femininity for male attention, that should be yet another reason for me to remain alternative me because,sincerely, I don’t want a boy coming all up in my space(lol!forgive my sister-girl speak). But seriously,being obviously feminine(or more aptly,’womanly’) will most likely attract a boy rather than a man because,truth is, boys see in graphics but a man sees in depths.

You see,a man has knowledge of things subtle and unassuming. He sees with depths into subtle hints. I believe that is all a man needs. With a boy,you will have to paint a picture in details for him to understand but a real man only needs you to breathe an idea and he understands the hidden depths.

Don’t get it twisted,I am all woman in all and beyond this twin-towered-slim-waisted-round-hipped masterpiece that is me but my femininity is beyond a gender thing,it is an essence I exude,an expression I communicate such that no garment or trinket can define it. And where ornaments will be of any relevance, I will rather wear the essence of the woman that is me than display designer labels…I’d rather be adorned in the ornaments of Proverbs 31:10 than showcase the glits of precious stones.

I am a multi-layered embodiment of God’s purpose in motion, a concentration of God-essence in expression. Fashion does not define me;fads and trends are too fickle to do justice to who I am. There is much too much to me than what the eyes see or what the eyes refuse to see. I choose not to live my life trying to impress…I will rather live to express the woman I am,that woman God has made me to be.

***
I am all the woman I can be
I am all the woman you choose to see
I am all the woman inside of me
I am strong
I am desirable
I am passionate
I am soft
I am warm
I am intense
I am sweet
I am true
I am deep
I am kind
I am intelligent
I am nurturing
I am rough
With character
Yes the character of my imperfections
I am not buffed and shiny from efforts at perfection
No, I wear my scars,deep with pride
Because I am all the woman that I have come to be.

***
This is dedicated to all the ladies out there who struggle with pressures,external and internal, yet,do not conform to being obviously female to own their womanhood…who challenge the norm and wear their womanhood inside out.

🙂

 

 

 

Be Kind Always

“Kindness is a language of the heart
Understood by all
It knows no discrimination
It needs no interpretation
Because the heart knows what the heart holds”
TowYourSea

I learnt this truth on my first international flight, sitting beside an old Iranian man. He could only manage to speak very broken English but I was somehow of some assistance to him during the flight. When we landed, he told me, in his broken English “I very happy to sit with you on this travel. You very good person“. I was warmed all over and very proud to have had the pleasure of sitting with such a sweet old man. I was most glad that somehow, i had sweetened his trip. I don’t know exactly what it was i did but that only goes to show that you might be unaware of what you do but your actions leave an impression on people around you.

Wherever you are, in familiar terrain or far away strange lands, try as much as you can to be kind without limits or discrimination. It contributes to making our world a better place.

Cheers!

 

The Big Wide World Is Just Around The Corner

I went for a walk today and no, it wasn’t like the walk to remember I had last week. Hehehe. This was not uneventful either, however, it unveiled a life-truth to me. In fact, it was in itself a metaphorical representation of the truth it shared.

The day was very warm and the sun was out. The weather was in the high seventies and it was truly a perfect day for a walk this time. I decided to carpe diem and max out the beautiful warm day with a walk. I hit the road with a smile and a bounce in my step, mostly because I was quite confident I was not going to have a repeat of last week. I walked to the end of my street and the road turned off to the right. I was almost tempted to go back because I had not explored the community before and I didn’t want to miss my way. I doused my fear and kept on walking with my mama’s wise advice resounding in my mind. “If you don’t know where you’re going, at least you know where you’re coming from”. I got to a trail and followed it. I literally let the trail lead me wherever it was going. A few minutes into the trail, I met a young lady and a baby in a stroller. We continued walking the trail and would you believe that the three of us together followed that trail for the next one hour, not knowing where we were going, yet simply trusting the trail to take us to its end. In that one hour, we encountered Robert Frost’s ‘The Road Not Taken’ moments, discovered a beautiful lush golf course, an old train track, perfect picnic spots and we saw a number of cute deer galloping into the  woods. It was extra amazing that neither of us knew about the trail before today and with every curve and crest of the trail, our awe grew. When we’d think the trail was ending, it would continue to dip and rise in enthralling curves across the landscape and out of sight. At the end of the trail, I realized that I had just lived in a life metaphor.

There are surprises just out of sight that you will probably never discover unless you step on a different trail or allow yourself to stumble on a new path. If you go to work/ school/ the store through a particular route, try a different one sometime. You just never know what adventure it might lead you to. Beyond believing that the big wide world is out there and desiring to explore it, I urge you to step out and you will discover that there are big wide worlds within your little corner of the world. Within your so-called “ordinary” plane of existence, there just might be an adventure waiting to be unwrapped.

I’m a firm believer that life serves up many offerings for us to savor daily. It’s up to us to see the beauty in simple things and discover the amazing in ordinary experiences. Sometimes, we are so caught up in the excitement of discovering the gift that we totally overlook the beauty of the gift wrapper. You might desire a vacation, an exotic get-away, a blood-pumping adventure but don’t ignore the little miracles and journeys and adventures of everyday living.

I just might make this walk thing a weekly routine. I like the way I discover new things through them.

Here’s to my first full month in America. May the trails unveil beautiful surprises for me as I venture out to discover the world. And may you discover fascinating new worlds just around the bend from you as well.

Cheers!

 

P.S. When I got back home, I had a fortune cookie and the fortune in it read, ‘It is up to you to create your own adventures today!’ A pretty neat coincidence, right? 😀

 

 

A Walk To Remember

No! This has nothing to do with the movie or the novel by Nicholas Sparks. But it has everything to do with a walk I went on today.

I tell you, it was a remarkable walk. Not because something exceptional happened. It was remarkable simply because of the experience I had, all by myself with Nature, within the amazing sixty minutes the walk lasted.

It’s Fall here and so it gets quite cold and windy most times but the sun shines sometimes, giving the day a balmy warmth to it. I’d been staying indoors for days on end and I was already getting restless so I decided to go on a stroll. Before setting out, I stepped on to the front porch to take the day’s temperature so I could choose my clothing wisely and know how many layers to pile on.  It was one of those balmy days, with a little chill in the air. A good day to step out. Or so I thought. I figured, if it gets cold, I’d break into a brisk walk and that should warm me up and shake off the chill and if it gets too warm, I’d easily take off my cardigan and manage holding it without having to worry about bundling layers of shrugged-off clothing along on my walk.

So I said goodbye to Chloe the cute little dog at home and got on my jolly way. One thing I’ve come to like about America is the skyline. I love to sky-gaze and I believe the sky is beautiful everywhere but it seems to be more so here because Fall has painted the trees reds and yellows and the beautiful blend of the trees against the backdrop of the sky is remarkable. This is especially so in the early mornings, when the sky is just yawning to let the sun out, right before the full-on sunset and when dusk begins to set in. It was a beautiful day, balmy with the soft blush of the sun and the scenery was a good mix of ordered suburbia in a hand-lock with nature. I had no clear destination, I just wanted to go as far as I could.

Ten minutes into my walk, the first signs of trouble showed up. My legs started to itch really badly. I’m talking about the entire span of my legs, especially behind my knees. I tried to scratch it subtly as I walked along, I didn’t want to look suspicious, scratching away on the roadside. But it seemed to grow worse. At first I tried to ignore it but you know, when you gotta, you just gotta. I stopped a bit off the roadside and gave my legs a good scratch-down. I could care less at this point what people thought. With some relief restored, I continued on my way. Shortly after, I noticed that I could see my breath in front of me. The chill was creeping up on me. My fingers were getting really cold so I pulled on my gloves (never leave home without them!) At this point I had walked for over thirty minutes and I was beginning to shiver. My eyes were watery from the cold air and I felt like I was going to throw-up because my muffler was wrapped so tightly around my neck. I made a wise decision at this point. Oh yeah! I turned around and headed back home.

The journey back was more treacherous. I was walking directly against the cold wind and the itch returned. I was so cold that, at a point, I looked up to the gently smiling sun and in that moment, I longed for the evil grin of her Lagos sister. I was shivering in my very thick cardigan. My head was aching. My nose was numb. My fingers were almost frozen. And the way home seemed so long ahead. All I wanted to do was curl up on the roadside and sleep off. I walked so briskly, I was almost out of breath. The only thing that stopped me from breaking into a run was because I’d be more vulnerable to the cold as a result. I did not regret my decision to walk, not at all. I just appreciated the wisdom to gi back home more.

When I saw the gate to the estate in the distance, my heart did a crazy alanta-inspired tap-dance. I’m sure my legs would have broken into the dance if there weren’t so eager to get home and my lips would have broken into songs if there weren’t so numb. I walked even more briskly till I got into the house and the welcoming warmth moistened my eyes (or maybe they were wet from the cold wind). I whispered a thank-you to Heaven for good heating systems.

As I sat there, thawing in the soothing warmth, I thought about people out there who don’t have a home to run to; people without a warm escape from the cold; people who are homeless and make the sidewalks, street corners or under the bridge, their home; people who don’t run from the cold but embrace it. And I just wondered, how do they do it? How do they survive it? I don’t have answers to these questions or a whole lot of others but I simply want to share a life-lesson I learnt on my walk. That experience you hate and feel like you can never survive is actually someone else’s daily reality out there. So be grateful for what you like and be patient with what you don’t.

And most importantly and especially as the festive season begins to near, take time to pay attention and acknowledge the people around you who might be going through a challenging reality which you have experienced. And if you can extend a hand of relief, by all means do!

 

P.S. Winter is coming! Pray for me that I don’t freeze. Hahahaha. I’m sure I’ll be fine.

Cheers!