Your spice for Twenty-Sixteen?? = Perspective

Monday, January 04, 2016

I know. I know. 

Every blog/article/website/page … basically, every person with the luxury of a computer and internet is dishing out New Year ‘advice’ or ‘goals’ or ‘resolutions’ to make your year perfect.

Not me.

I’m not here to tell you the zillion things to do or not do to have the perfect year. I barely even know how to achieve a ‘perfect’ day for myself. 

I’d love to share with you something beautiful I learnt just before we rolled into this New Year.

My busy mind and I learnt Perspective.


Just before the end of last year, a ‘friend’ asked a rather surprising question. My friend asked me from out of the blues: “Are you truly happy?”

I was taken aback. In my truly Nigerian way, I retorted defensively with a “Why do you ask?” (After all, I AM supposed to be Ms. happy-go-lucky-broke-sometimes-but-would act-like-linda-ikeji-in-her-banana-island-mansion).

My friend expressed that despite the ‘happiness’ I radiated, there appeared to be some underlying sadness bellied under.

I paused.

Truth is, at the time, I was faced with certain confusing crossroads in one aspect of my life. It loomed over me… threatening to eclipse everything else. To drown me. It seemed like if I was did, I was damned. If I did not, I was damned.

I was poised to launch into a tearful break-down; and weep on the shoulder of my friend; and regale my friend with the sob story of how miserable my life was. Yada, yada, yada.

I was poised.

But I did not.

I paused again.

My busy mind slapped me right awake from sob-story-dreamland.

What?? Just because I was faced with scary-looking decisions in one aspect of my life; did that determine that I was not truly happy?

I slapped me again.

Why/How/When did I allow just one not-so-crystal aspect of my life loom over and cloud the other pseudo-perfect parts of my life that made me shiver with excitement at their mere thoughts?

Whatever happened to the liberty of my blissful polygamy with full-time law practice and ‘undercover’ blogging that I reveled in?

What of the sanctuary I called my home? My cosy little abode? My world-famous couch I curl up on at night to blog, while mutli-tasking with Grey’s Anatomy/Game of Thrones/Born to dance?

The joy, sheer peace and glee I feel creeping into the silence of my kitchen? Choosing whether or not … and then when to roll out of my bed over the weekends?

The excitement of making a new hairdo; the anti-climatic feeling after making it due to Halle-Berry high expectations… and then, gradually falling in love with the hair over the weeks. Until my friends politely ask me ‘So when are you taking off this hair again?”

 The excitement I feel from pressing the pedal and going from 0-75 miles in less than 20 seconds? And then slowing down, when I remember that even Schumacher was susceptible to human frailty?

But still… rolling down my windows; playing my weird mix of Beyonce and ABBA from my phone’s playlist. Singing, popping my head while driving, and flashing fellow drivers with that acknowledging smile of “Yes, I’m crazy. But I love me”.

The joy of breaking new heels, feigning modesty at “oohs” and “aahs” over their sheer awesomeness; giving more feigned surprise looks at exclamations of “You’re so tall!”. All the while, knowingly reminding myself to not forget my pack of Panadol for the ankle pain before I sleep at night (Ah! Vanity is pain. Worthful pain.)

The feverishly exhilarating trepidation I feel when I get a new brief to tackle; the endless hours of seeking intelligent-sounding arguments in support of my position, and the huge (inner) sigh of relief when boss-lady does not shred my submissions. Followed by hours of binging on pop-culture gossip after work, to reward myself for the hard-work.

Whatever happened to that feeling of defined purpose I wake up with daily, and the sense of achievement I sleep with nightly?? Was that right there not true happiness?

In one (or two… maybe three) split seconds, my busy mind threw up all these perspectives before me. And it hit. Me.

I WAS TRULY HAPPY! I just almost succeeded in fooling myself into thinking I was sad.

I was happy … I am happy, that I did not have to lie to my friend that I WAS happy. Perspective helped me.

And I will use a lot of perspective this year. We can all use a lot of perspective actually.

Nothing IS that bad.

Ok maybe some things are. But we can also bring out the good stuff right before us, place it side by side with the ‘bad’ stuff, and we’d be taken aback at how good things really are.

Let’s not take things too seriously. For example, eating a shawarma. Laugh at yourself if you eat some of the paper used to wrap it. Smile if you spill some wine on yourself, and lick it off.

Let’s not take things unduly seriously. (Except however, crossing the road).

In 2016, live fully.

Explore. Enjoy. Liberate your soul with perspective.

Do not let the seeming shadows obliterate your joy.

When the clouds seem to crowd in, create some space for the sun. With the proper perspective in place, you’d more often than not find yourself saying out loud “Yes. I am truly happy”.


Paz,

Meg.


P.s. If you like the quippings of my busy mind, just click the G+1 button under my bio, or after this post. And you'll get a sneak peak any time I ruminate here.


P.p.s. My fingers are ITCHING!! My busy mind is bursting. I have so much to blog about. (But then…I need to keep some content for you to read tomorrow).


P.p.p.s My ‘friend’ disappeared. Into thin air. Vanished. Don’t ask me how … I don’t know too. Or why.


P.p.p.p.s. I prayed against fuel crisis in Nigeria on cross-over night. I shouldn’t be up at night blogging about fuel scarcity … when LAWMA is busy taking away all the trash. (“Badosneh” ehhn??)


P.p.p.p.p.s Happy New Year!!
 …and may the odds ever be in your favour.



(Ok. Done)

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