May this year be filled with strength and resilience, allowing  you to embrace every challenge that comes your way. 

May God grant you the wisdom to pursue your passions and the courage to step outside of your  comfort zone.

 May you find balance in my busy life, nurturing your family, your ambitions and your well-being.

May God help you to cultivate meaningful connections with those around you, fostering relationships that uplift and inspire. 

May you be a beacon of positivity and support in your community, empowering others on  their paths.

In Jesus' name, amen. 

'And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear. And the angel said to them, "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a Baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!"' - Luke 2:8-14

Love is Blind has captivated me through all its intriguing seasons, and the UK version along with season seven sparked a need to write this blog post.

There has been laughter.
There has been confusion with rapid blinking.

There has been some occasional shouting at the screen,

and a loooooooot of tik-tok debriefing sessions. 

What exactly motivated me to share my thoughts here? 

This common narrative below.

A man  meets a women, who he pursues and expresses his unconditional love for, only  for it to become apparent that he has either omitted some truths or become entangled himself in significant lies that can’t be overlooked or overcome. 

These untruths create tension in the relationship. As the woman seeks clarity and truth, she encounters intense gaslighting from him, making her doubt her feelings and her own intuition. 

Often, these situations leave her feeling confused and questioning her choices, while the man seems to avoid all accountability.

What I find most concerning is how the man doubles down in deflection with a clear intent to rip this women's self esteem to shreds.

It leads to months of introspection, anxiety even depression for the women. Until finally someone tells her or it occurs to her on her own.... she is not the problem. He is. 

Meanwhile said man is walking around in denial acting like he's the one who was wronged. Only when he is publicly called out on social media does he reluctantly apologize to her. 

We see this same story over and over again in real life and reality tv (though in the real world the apology may never come).

Can this please stop?

I would like the producers to take responsibility and actively seek opportunities to address this behavior. There's a missed opportunity to creatively demonstrate healthy ways to handle such situations, whether the couple decide to end their relationship or work through their issues.

Dear producers, you can give us fantastic trashy reality tv and educate us at the same time. Please do so.

Leaves, the leaves of the trees and bushes rustling. 

Sometimes it is light and cheery, and sometimes it is just frantic.

Cockerels crowing from all different directions of the neighborhood. 

Sometimes in unison, sometimes just randomly.

A radio playing.

A  heavy bucket being dragged across the ground.

Water splashing.

A broom vigorously sweeping.

A hammer banging.

An old rusty truck reversing. 

The creaky sound of its behind lifting.

Sand pouring.

The angry hooting of cars and boda bodas from the road on the hill across.

Thunder rumbling from behind the hills warning us that a great downpour is coming.

A helicopter flying.

After a while the cleansing sound of dainty rain drops falling begins.

I bought a new handbag yesterday, for use as a weekend bag. 

My current one is old, the handle is recklessly peeling all over the place.

When its comes to bags  I am a simple practical creature.

Just two main ones, the rest are for decoration and the rare fancy occasion. 

The new bag is black, because everyone knows that goes with everything. 

Right?

As I was removing all my items from the old and shifting them to the new, I recalled being a little girl watching my mum and my aunts get ready for church or a party, my naive eyes would watch wide and dreaming of the day when I would be a fashionable-lady-with-places-to-go too. 

All the brightly colored clothes,

high heel shoes with pointy toes,

80's gaudy shiny jewelry. 

Timeless handbags,

and bold red lipstick. 

Well decades later, here I am little Maria. 

I seem to be quite happy with a total of  four bags in my life!

Hahahahahahaha. 

Isn't life funny?

I saw a post on Instagram.

 It said 'If you could  go back ten years what three words would you say to your past self?'.

Ten years ago would be the year 2014.

Here are my three.

1. Meditate

2. Pray

3. Boundaries

What would yours be?

So simple .

Breathe in, breathe out.

During my lunch meditation I decided to accept and surrender. 

So simple. 

Breathe in, breathe out.

Surprisingly no resistance came from inside of me. 

I let go.

So simple. 

Breathe in, breathe out.

I handed it over to Him. 

Breathe in, breathe out

So simple.

Note to self.

You are addicted to work.

You are obsessed with your purpose.

Commitment has never been your issue.

You need to work on switching off.

It's the end of day. 

Time to wind down

Rest.

Rest properly.

Let go of the unsolicited guilt

The brain can consume itself with something else.

You can prepare for tomorrow, tomorrow.

Thank you Headspace exercises!

Photo Credit: Unsplash.

Profess.

Profess!

Profess. 

Always profess.

Tell them in the moment. 

Tell everyone that you love , that you looove them.

They need to know 

You need to say it. 

It should never be a secret.

In this world where people die. 

In this world where tomorrow may be a complete and utter mystery.

Professing should never be saved for another time. 

Let them know!

Let them know now. 

Let them know always, for sure and for certain.

I writing this so I don't forgot to have gratitude. 

Somethings have become so routine that we forget how wonderous they are. 

I had passport before I could read or even spell my name. 

I travelled on a plane before I could speak in sentences, use a spoon to eat or I could even go to the toilet alone. 

I think about this because I remember my father once told me that he used to attend primary school barefoot cause he did not own a pair of shoes.  My mum  was born at home, the only record of her birth is her baptism certificate. To forget how far my parents had to  have come to instill flying on a plane in their children as a normal and possible part of life from an early age would be very disrespectful.

As a child the excitement of being able to go to Jomo Kenyatta International Airport just to see the planes land and take off was quite an adventure.  At that time you could go to the top of the terminal building  and watch them even if you weren't travelling. There was a tiny shop that sold soft drinks and snacks and we had to pay an entrance fee. When members of the family were arriving during the day, my father liked to take us to witness it. Little Maria was always ecstatic seeing her Mum or brothers stepping off the plane. This was in the early 1990s; today understandably, there are so many security measures in place you can barely get into the building. 

Everyone would clap for the pilot when the plane landed; travelling was an event! Passengers would be dressed up in their best outfits, My mum in her bold pointy heels and me in my cute puffy dress. The air hostesses were admired for their uniforms and perfect make-up. They still look smart today, but back then I remember they had to be perfectly-put-together which couldn't have have been healthy I guess. 

When my elder brother was travelling to the United States to study, three BIG families packed into three not-so-big cars to go to the airport. Some of us sat in the boot of the car. More than twenty people seeing off one person at the airport. Those were the days...

As I said at the beginning of this post, I am writing this so that I don't forget what a privilege it is to fly. Even if it has become quite the routine now days.

I am grateful. 

           Do you have any special memories? Share them in comments, would love to hear them 

Did you know a whole person can disappear into a book?

 For hours if  you do it properly.

 Undisturbed and uninterrupted. 

Open the book, flip the page and start to read, before long you find your self in a world with no recollection of when you stepped through the door or how you'll find your way back again.

I learnt this when I was little girl. My love for books grew from my parents reading me bedtime stories before I learnt how to read. It's the longest affair I have ever had. My Father loved to read Three Billy Goats Gruff with a booming animated voice for the troll. 

"WHO IS TRIP TRAPPING ALL OVER MY BRIGDE?"

(If you know, you know)

All the schools I attended  up to 13 years of age, had the best libraries, magical colourful places with endless shelves of books for all reading ages and tastes, bean bags and kind helpful librarians. 

I remember the first book I couldn't stop reading was Matilda by Roald Dahl. I hid it in my French exercise book during the primary school lesson and I think the smirk on my face gave me away. I got in trouble, but it was light trouble...How can one be mad at a child obsessed with reading?

I enjoyed bringing books home to read to my mother in the evenings as she knitted scarves, hats , baby sweaters and booties. 

My handwritten membership card filled up quickly because I reveled in the compulsory one hour a week reading time in the library. 

I was a Red House Book Club member! I got to order new books every year from their catalogue. I don't think they exist anymore...if they do correct me in the comment section

Remembering and blogging about these memories brings me so much pleasure.

Some of my favourite books included:

Goodnight Mr. Tom by Michelle Magorian

The Twits by Roald Daul

The BFG by Roald Daul

The Lorax by Dr Seuss

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone- J.K Rowling

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets -J.K Rowling 

Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery 

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame

Charlotte's Web by E.B White 

I hope part of my legacy will be the books I leave behind... a private library maybe? 

What about you?

When did your love affair begin? 

What are you fondest memories? 

"Rejection, judgement and abandonment are mostly painful because deep in her unconsciousness she holds the incorrect belief that she is unworthy of receiving more."

"They would give and give, but deep inside they did not feel worthy of receiving.

They hope that by giving they would become worthy."

"The solution to this resentment is for her to take responsibility. She needs to take responsibility for having contributed to her problem by giving more and letting the score get so uneven. She needs to treat herself as if she has the flu or a cold and take a rest from giving so much in the relationship....Remember that a man looks for cues telling him when and how to give more. He waits to be asked."

Now...years later... I feel a feeling  that is very hard to describe...  I feel a little mentally numb, battered, tired and perturbed all at the same time.  Is that possible? Is that normal? 

Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for all that I have, and grateful for all that I have worked hard for, but that little girl in me who had so much passion for this earthly journey well.... she's lost. 

Inspired by Lavendaire's You Tube video, I am candidly answering the six questions below, in hopes that they will help me find the younger me again. Even if I find her with only  50% of the energy from before, we can still achieve something together with my new life-learned-wisdom. 

Anyways...here's to answering and  hoping...

1. What did I want to do as child? What about life excited me? 

Photo Credit: Unsplash 

1.   'I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that

if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping stone just right,

you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway

and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet

are going to do a whole lot better than you,

and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.'

2.   'Perfectionism means that you try desperately not to leave

so much mess to clean up. But clutter and mess show us that

life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground---you can

still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, 

edit things out, fix things, get a grip. 

Tidiness suggests that something is as good

as it's going to get. '

3.   'Perfectionism is one way our muscles cramp.

In some cases we don't even know that the wounds and

 the cramping are there, but both limit us.

They keep us moving and writing in tight,worried ways. 

They keep us standing back or backing away from life,

keep us from experiencing life in a naked and immediate way.

So how do we break through them and get on?'

4.   'Vonnegut said, "When I write, I feel like an armless

legless man with a crayon in his mouth."

So go ahead and make big scrawls and mistakes. 

Use up lots of paper.' 

  5.    'What people somehow (inadvertently, I am sure)

forget to mention when we were children was

that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are

and why we are here--- and, by extension, what we're

supposed to be writing.'