Welcome Weekend!

It is always cool to know that tomorrow you do not need to wake up early for school, or work or whatever, that tomorrow is the day you linger in bed as long as you want (or so you hope). That is one of the coolest things about weekends.

But for sometime now, weekends have sort of become a nuisance in a way.  I enjoy the laziness, the rest, the free time, being with the family, but I end it up feeling as if I lost something.

Analyzing it in my head, here is what happens in the weekend.  I wake up leisurely some times, in other times -for unknown reasons- the members of the family exert dedicated effort to wake me up one after another either asking me about "where that key is?" or posing scientific or linguistic dilemmas such as "what is the difference between emperor and king?" (usually those are posed incessantly by my son).

Then comes the family breakfast, followed by quite a lazy stance, where I have no idea what happens.  By the time I get ready to go and visit my parents or do some errands, it is almost 5 pm!  It is dark and cold, and it feels like the day is over.  Worth mentioning is that, since the whole family is around, some arguments aris with the kids concerning study, setting the table and so forth.... and sometimes - to be honest, quite often- those arguments increase that it becomes no longer enjoyable.  We seem to upset each other, instead of having fun together.

The conclusion of my Friday is not so OK.   The same applies for Saturday.

It is as if in my attempt to free the weekend days from programmed activities and from stress, I lose them, and one of the things I hate most is losing time.  It is so disappointing and frustrating to let time squander like this.  May be this is due to the times when I was soo stressed, when I had too much on my plate and I learned to appreciate what time means, and what time can be used for.

In all cases, I do hate wasting precious time and it so correlates with wasting potential in a way, and these I guess are two of the things that stand against my values.  Mind you, relaxation is not wasting time, not at all. It is a legitimate and a loved activity.  If I make time to relax, to de-stress, to have a nice drink or dinner watching a nice TV ON PURPOSE, while I relax is good.  What is NOT good is sitting like a vegetable on the couch munching whatever, because I do not know where to start or whether to start or not.

And so, today, another new Friday... a new weekend....I have put a new rule.  It states that Fridays are mainly fun, and Saturdays are mainly work and getting ready.  I also decided to get action-oriented (as I advise my daughter) and put some activities right from the start.  Today, I started a new habit of drinking a bottle of water upon waking up, then I researched some more info on the website (it did not take long, otherwise it slows me down), now I am blogging, because I do not want this new habit too to slip away.  Later in the day we shall go out and have fun, and also I plan to do some studying.

I do not remember who it was, but one of the best self development writers said that it is always advisable to start the day with some "personal victory"  so that you feel that already you have achieved something, done something beneficial for yourself,  felt the taste of victory right from the start!

This weekend will not be full of lazy arguments and lack of fun...
Enjoy your weekends, and weekdays :) same concept in a way..

450 Million kms of Love

"450 Million kilometres of love" He said, as he bent to kiss me.  "that is how much I love you" my son said.  That would probably mean that I am covered, entoured from head to toe with love.   But then I wondered, how do we measure love? 

We say "ad el donia" meaning as big as the world, and then it becomes not big enough so we say "ad el donia 100 times" as if that would make it really meaningful or more accurate.  We say " I love you mooot" which is I love you death"  but is that like " I love you to death" or is it something like " I am dying in your love" or "your love is killing me"  like "killing me softly" and I know sometimes it does so harshly and cruelly too.

So, really think about it.. how do we measure love.. the love of others to us as well as our love to others.  Is it in kilos?  in metres like my son?  or is it in moments in which love over floods and fills our worlds? 

Is it in words? then writers are those who love most?  if you run a word count, you may found millions and millions of words about love.  there does not seem to be many more interesting topics for writers to ponder over.

Or is it by actions, following the saying that "deeds are louder than words".  But actions, too can go unnoticed.  Actions might not have the opportunity to emerge in the first place. 

How do we know that we love a certain someone more than the rest?  or that we are so special to someone, more than anyone else? 

It is not quanitifiable, I know... but nevertheless, we keep trying to put measures.. to explain and define as if this will make it better, will make love stronger or clearer, and may be it does.  Even though inaccurate, all our frail attempts are not futile for they bring more love to us inside out.  May be it is for this exact reason; the inability to quanitify or define love, that we try so hard so that this other special someone really knows how much we do love him.. whether it is "ad el donia" or "as many as the stars in the sky" " or as deep as the sea" or even "450 million kms" :)

Nostalgia and other things.....

I have been struggling since the morning with many emotions that I wanted to put down here.. I did not know if any of them would come to a satisfying closure worth writing or not.. still this is the case.  But since writing for someone like me is a sort of healing, I decided to write anyway.

I had a weird dream full of choices everywhere in Turkey, in UK and allover the world..and I kept asking but the one who had the answers was quite a miser with words..It was full of snow and there were lakes and white covered treees, and then  I went and played with the snow, it was soft ...very soft and I cried.  I stayed at a home that looked like my grandma's in Russia.  and as I laid my eyes on it, I cried too..

Was it nostalgia to the time where I had fun?  when my biggest challenge was how to catch up with the big boys?  and to wait impatiently till I could go to the dance and to the movies??  when I was climbing the trees and pulling water out of the well and running like the wild happy kid I was?  was it nostalgia to the people I loved and are no longer there? my grandma who took us our first day of arrival to the toy shop to get us a nice present? to the neighbourhood kids who came in the summer to visit their grannies? and to "Sveta" my neighbour, and "Lioba" and "Tania" my friends? with whom we shared little games and small secrets..

Or was it nostalgia to me, a younger, more carefree me?  but whom am I fooling? I have always tried to do what is right, to consider everyone around, and to minimize any "whims" and then as I wanted to do now, I would want to run away, when it was all too much....

But run away where?  when all my luggage is inside me.

Today a friend told me "C'est la vie" and this simple comment brought me back to reality.  We chose based on our values, and my values is to put those I love right in the front....my values is love.. love to those close to me, and love to those I don't even know... and when your value is love, you have to know that it is both a blessing and a curse... the price is high, but I also deeply know that the outcome, the joy, the sweet pain is also gratifying..

I guess, if I chose differently based on "if I was on my own"  I would not be me.  I would be someone else, and that too is a loss.  A loss I do not want to experience.

The power of nagging

As I was rushing to warm Hassan's clothes on the heater before he puts them on, I heard the horn.  It is the bus!! oops..we missed it.  I ventured into the cold balcony and waved at the bus to inform the driver to go away.  He did not see me, though and kept nagging with his horn.  I realized right from the very first moment that he is neither gonna see me nor my signaling hands, and yet I stood there, unable to go in and proceed with the morning marathon.  As long as he nagged, I stood. Then, I wondered, what is it about nagging that freezed me into inaction?  or what is it about me, may be?  why can't I ignore requests, horns, moans or complaints?  actually, it goes even further, I find it hard to ignore any comment, any criticism, any upset atom in the air.  The problem is that sometimes, I know that the request is illegitimate, or selfish or incorrect. Sometimes, I know that the signals will be futile and that it would have been more productive to go in and continue what I was doing. 

Even worse, sometimes I hear criticism that I know is vicious, is unfounded and yet I stand there listening, letting all those negative vibes penetrate me. 

Why do I do that?? when it is a waste of energy, time and waste of fun as well?  What if I decide to close the shelters at some point and let the wind blow outside?  why not?  It might seem difficult, but I have done it before and it has worked.  It is sometimes a visualization technique in which I am sheltered, and sometimes it is a switch in my head, through which I divert the ongoing blah blah blah outward and focus on what is important at hand.

And sometimes, it is a plain "stop and go" thing.  I stop the blah blah blah and go....May be I just have to be more aware and more firm, and let the nagging go somewhere else.