Showing posts with label Bloggers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bloggers. Show all posts
Let me write from the heart.
My natural instinct is to always consult my heart first.
Whether I listen to my heart is a totally different matter. This world sometimes
require us to do the total opposite of what our heart asks.
But for now let me listen to it and write from the heart.
Nursery school are my first few memories of being in an
environment where social acceptance wasn’t assured. It’s where I first learnt
the concept of feeling alone, but not actually being alone, Nursery school was
where I learnt that the world was bigger than home. I was dropped off by my father every morning, and even with
welcoming teachers and making new friends, I felt alone. I felt separate. I
felt like I could easily be forgotten. Dismissed. Overlooked.
Don’t worry. Eventually, I found it fun; this new world. I learnt my way around. My teacher wrote in one of my reports that I
spent more time taking care of other children than playing. I wonder what my mother and father thought
when they read that. Especially, since I was the youngest in the house. Where
could that have possible come from? It seems I was more concerned with giving
myself a purpose in order to fit in.
I am reflecting on
that moment because I see around me a number of people who struggle with feelings
of loneliness. I think sometimes we are scared to say that on some days we not comfortable in this world. Sometimes the mission of
existing is tough, and the experience is rough. But we are scared to say in case we appear
ungrateful.
Someone asked those same
questions long ago, and it even inspired them to write a poem. Have you heard of the poem ‘The Dark Night of the Soul’ by St John of the Cross?
In the happy night,
In secret, when none saw me,
Nor I beheld aught,
Without light or guide, save that which burned in my
heart.
He writes about this strange euphoria he experiences in mist
of despair, when he finally realizes the purpose of his suffering. (btw... I am
not saying that we are all Saints) I love his honesty in the poem. I love the
fact that his journey is not always blissful. That there are moments of doubt,
fear, loneliness and even dullness in the process of life. As much as we try to
fill our lives with things people, places, there will always be emptiness.
There will always be sharp moments of stillness. Thoughts that remind us that this
is all temporary and we are mortal. It
will always catch up with us but it doesn’t have to overcome us, most likely
there is a purpose to not fitting in so neatly into this world.
Years ago, I went on a catholic retreat. We visited a monastery for the weekend. I don’t even remember the name and yet it had such a
monumental impact on my life. I was going through a break up and the stress of
back to back assignments at University. My friends and I were also going
through the tensions of renting a house together for two years. I needed a
break. The Catholic Student’s society offered one, so I packed my bags and
disappeared for the weekend.
What I found interesting about this retreat is the fact that
the Monks were not allowed to talk to
each other. That was one of their vows. One of their sacrifices. They spent
their days in silence, with very little time in the day allocated to speaking.
An hour into the retreat, we joined then, we sacrificed our voice to God and began
our silence. I spent atleast 24 hours in silence. Solitude.
In our world with 7.1 billion people, everyone must struggle
in some way to be seen, to be noticed to be acknowledged. Office politics, social
circles, family gatherings, daily life require us to use our voices and our
words, our conversations, and body language to assert our presence. Imagine a
world where you can’t. Imagine if those 7.1 billion people were told they could not
speak to anyone for two days. How would we communicate with each other? Imagine
if we took it further and said everyone must wear the same clothing. What would
that do for egos? How would people be able to catch clues of who we are if we
all dress the same, and if we could verbally express who we are? Even the
graves of the former monks have no names. Just a modern cross, marking the loss
of many in a special section of the
garden. At first I thought it was a modern art exhibition. We don’t know who
they are. We just know that they are graves.
I'm scared of lonely
And I'm scared of being the only shadow I see along the wall
And I'm scared the only heartbeat I hear beating is my own
And I'm scared of being alone
I can't seem to breathe when I am lost in this dream, I need you to hold me
I'm scared of lonely
I'm scared of lonely...
Yes. I just quoted a Beyonce single. I thought it was
interesting that she choose to put this song on her album. As a successful woman
with a husband and close family, she chose to sing this single. She never
promoted it that much though. Interesting.
A lot of our masters spent time in solitude, Jesus, Buddha, etc.
So don’t worry you are in good company.
A lot of great works are produced when the mind is allowed to wonder on it’s
own. But it’s so nice to be with people, to connect, to laugh, to share
moments, to share each others’ lives. As Brene Brown says we are hard wired to
connect with each other.
After a good night sleep, I remember enjoying the first early morning hours of the Catholic retreat. I liked this new challenge. Five hours in and I was starting to feel it.
No TV. No Movies. No Magazines. Just books. Lot’s of books on history. Lot’s of
books on theology. No loud music was allowed, we had to commit to being quiet.
I would pass a fellow retreat member in
the corridor, or find them in the tiny kitchen making tea, and force myself to swallow the urge to speak. It felt rude. It
felt unnatural, yet I had committed to silence. We had tea with the monks at
4.00 pm that day. Some really good scones…but no conversation. Just silence and
the sound of people sipping and chewing. A few moments of eye contact and short
smiles but mostly emptiness. By night time as I lay in bed the emotions hit me.
I realized how much I rely on connecting with people throughout the day. Also everything that I had been bottling up, suddenly came rushing out of me. Demanding to be dealt with. Such is the nature of solitude.
Solitary confinement in prison is supposed be the worst
punishment of all. Is it because the prisoners are left alone with themselves? The mind
is incredible, but is it all the more unbearable if you’ve committed despicable
acts, if you lived a terrible life?
Is solitude only for the strong minded
like our masters?
When I asked people to write for a “welcome to womanhood”
series, it was mostly because I was reaching a milestone in birthdays, and
feeling extremely self reflective. I wondered whether other women had the same internal
struggles that I was having. So I asked them to write their stories. I asked
for moments in life when they realized they were grown women. My story is about
solitude. It’s
so far removed from my ideal experience of what it means to be woman. Yet it sticks
out like sore thumb, it’s my experience. I see so many people dealing with loneliness
but I am not quite sure why it’s there. They have families. They have children.
They have partners. They have great
jobs, a social life. Yet there is the feeling staring them in the mirror. Loneliness.
In my head solitude feels odd. In my heart in feels good.
A month ago I attended a party with a friend, where we met a
kindred spirit. Barely a few minutes
into knowing each other, somehow we found ourselves talking about some of the
struggles women go through when dating and when in relationships. She told us, during a very dark period in her
life, a newly single mother, and extremely heartbroken, she used to go to bars and
order a drink by herself because for most of her young life she had always gone
with someone. She had always ordered what she thought other people around would
approve off. Forcing herself to go to the bar alone, made her figure out which drinks she
liked. When she started figuring out who she was, she felt like she could be a good mother. I immediately thought she so brave, to go to a bar by herself in Kampala.
Most people when they see a women by herself in bar… they assume certain things
about her lifestyle. Even I was judgemental, as i listened to the story. When people see a woman alone they feel sorry for
her, like she should be miserable.
In my world I’d be able to write the following sentence
across my forehead:
“Stop feeling sorry for me, I am chartering my course,
figuring out my destiny. ”
Some people are like me, innate nurturers, we feel guilty about alone
time. We usually happily forget all about ourselves in other people. It’s so
tempting and so easy for us. Regular solitude ensures I have no excuses. I have
to work on myself. I can’t get lost in someone else’s life.
I feel like am fighting back for the woman who feels alone.
It’s the experience she finds herself in. It's okay. It’s okay to have dark
night of the soul too. Don’t worry, great things come from solitude.
“You are born alone. You die alone. The value of the space in between is
trust and love.”
“Nourish yourself with grand and austere ideas of beauty that feed the soul… Seek solitude,” Young Delacroix counseled himself in 1824
Illustrated by Chris Mugarura
Making: In the beginning stages of making a series on tradition and culture
Drinking: #lemonade for real #BeyHive
Reading: Just finished reading Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche
Playing: Kenneth Mugabi. #Amazing!
Wishing: No wishes.
Enjoying: My new baby turtle earrings. #LovelyBirthdayPresents
Writing: Short Stories inspired by catch-up-sessions with friends
Loving: Qwela Junction Crooners, can't wait for the next show
Looking: Pro Afro by Xenson #SOoooooAmazing.Please visit AfriArt Gallery to view the exhibition.
 |
| PRO AFRO by Xenson #hairgoals |
Eating: Java House Ben's Burger with a side order of fruit salad. #TryingToBeHealthy #NotSureIfItsWorking
Needing: Where do I start, maybe first with gratitude?
Wearing: Lipstick, I even bought a dark purple colour called "Vamp"
Knowing: God and I are working on our relationship. I have learnt to listen.
Thinking: About my future
Giggling Over: Zootopia.
What have you been up to lately?#TakingStock
10 Reasons Why You Need to Attend Jackee batanda’s Success Spark Brand Writing Retreat
Friday, 30 October 2015
 |
I recently had the pleasure of attending Jackee Batanda’s Success Spark Brand Writing Retreat on Bulago Island, and here are the top 10
reasons why I think you should be a part of the next one:
- They will accept you at whatever level of writing you find yourself. You don’t have to be published, or be an active blogger. You just need to have a passion for writing, and be willing to share and learn.
- You will spend five days with people who are natural born storytellers like yourself. For four nights, you will no longer be the outcast in the family who has decided to pursue a writing profession. Apart from the resourceful workshops, breakfast, lunch and dinner conversations will surprisingly become the highlight of your day. You will probably laugh like you have never laughed before, but remember Jackee has one rule, “what is spoken on the island stays on the island.”
- It’s a safe place to share your writing. Take it as a great opportunity to gain insights on your work from experienced facilitators like Nyana Kakoma of ‘Sooo Many Stories’, and other budding writers like yourself. The constructive criticism from the facilitators will help you start to polish your own unique style and voice.
- Jackee’s goal is to make sure that you actually get published. The facilitators will help you think through your writing goals, and consider publishing platforms that are relevant to your work. Rejoice! Your one-on-one mentoring session will occur on the beach and not some dingy classroom that was built in the 1970’s.
- You will most likely gain weight, but don’t panic because it is totally guilt free. Not once in the five days will you ever set foot in the kitchen to prepare a meal or to wash the dishes. The food cooked by the resident chef is so mouth-wateringly good, that it would be considered RUDE of you and the other participants not to gain weight. The chef makes fresh orange muffins for breakfast from scratch; no Nakumatt-bought cake mix is involved in the process at all! Take a minute to pause, smile, and fully grasp the meaning of the last few sentences, because during the retreat Jackee’s only task for you will be to focus on honing your writing skills. Alas, gaining weight is the only way you will be able to show your appreciation and gratitude to the chef who is working so hard in the kitchen to prepare your delicious meals.
- Prepare
yourself to be mesmerized by the majestic sunrises and sunsets. Every day
you’ll find yourself either standing by the window, or outside watching the sun
like a zombie. I have a whole new kind
of adoration and respect for God, and the first two chapters of the book of
Genesis. In my head, I’d like to think that this island is the spot where God
first told the sun to rise.
- For all you social media junkies, let me confirm that the internet does work on the island. We were not totally cut off from civilization. You can still access all your accounts on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, and share your wonderful experience with the friends and family members who told you not to come *wink wink*.
- Imagine falling asleep to the sound of waves at night, instead of the sound of the mosquitoes you usually fight with, or the prayer shouts from the local church, or even the road-side disco and bar. Just relax to the melodic sound of the waves as they entice you into dreamland, because it’s a well known fact that writers need their beauty sleep too.
- This is not a drug or alcohol fueled retreat! You should definitely leave behind in Kampala, the belief that you will find your muse while using illegal substances. We are all upstanding citizens, who just happen to be writers. So tell your Dad, Mum, your hubby and your wifey, that they can stop hyperventilating, you are not being abducted or brainwashed. All you need to do, is come prepared to take writing and storytelling seriously.
- You will return to your normal life and anxiously await for Jackee to announce the dates of the next writing retreat. You’ll have had so much fun, that these retreats will just have to become a permanent fixture on your annual calendar.
I’ve already booked my place at the next writing retreat, so
make sure you contact Jackee and book yours. You can reach Jackee via e-mail at jbatanda@gmail.com. I am looking forward
to meeting you, and hearing your stories.
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