to top

An Oasis in the Desert (Part 3)

StockSnap_HQQ3UCR11E (1)

"'Receive graciously,' he said. 'Give always,' he advised." Jasmine muttered under her breath. Fuming at the thought of Mikhal's parting advice.   She knew none of this was actually his fault, but when emotions overwhelm one it is easiest to become defensive and cast a wide net of blame. Mikhal had been caught in Jasmine’s. After all, he was the one who set her on the path that led to this point. He was the one who encouraged and inspired her to pay the good he had done forward. He was the one who defied the terrible...

Continue reading

Deserted in the Oasis (Part 2)

StockSnap_GXHPRPEHF1

The sun was high in the sky by the time Jasmine regained consciousness. She sat up slowly squinting while she rubbed the sand grains off her face and forearms. She looked around again, dismayed that all her hard work over the last week had been ruined by what was indeed a sandstorm. The temporary shelter she had erected was  scattered everywhere, sand grains had encroached on the space she had meticulously cleared and swept and most importantly that which she had feared had come upon her.   When Jasmine had seen five horses carrying men wearing white robes with...

Continue reading

A Desert in the Oasis (Part I)

StockSnap_J8TVQ5EVL4

Once upon a time there lived a young lady who was a nomad. Her name was Jasmine and today was her birthday. It was more significant than any other birthday because Jasmine had reached the “age of maturity” and therefore certain protocols had to be observed. Today was the day she prepared to separate from her entire family. Based on their nomadic culture Jasmine was required to become fully independent no later than two moons after this particular birthday. Over the course of her lifetime her family had relocated every five years, this fifth move...

Continue reading

Happy Birthday to Me – A Tree Is A Tree Is a Tree

StockSnap_LQ4ZBY4ZB6

A few weeks ago it was my birthday. I did not tell my friends, I did not post pictures or words. I did not celebrate myself or invite others to do so. I did not make any sort of deal about it, because I was ashamed. A year had passed and I did not feel like I had enough to show for it, so I tiptoed around the momentous occasion. Facebook reminded me as did other platforms, but I hoped no one would remember and not too many did.   When enough time had passed and the...

Continue reading

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

StockSnap_EI38FIX5X8

The mirror hanging on the wall in the hallway is haunted. It has a voice. It says things every time I walk past it. It says things every time I pause in front of it. It never stops saying things. Sometimes these things are minor, “You know you’re not a lipstick person, are you sure you want to slap on that Ruby Woo today?” Or, “Why so serious? Crack a smile every once in a while.”   Other times it says things of greater significance, “What are you even getting dressed up for today? You should have...

Continue reading

Road Rage and One Foot on the Brake

StockSnap_34YUVXCOZM

On this one slightly uphill road, at this one exit, at this one traffic light – I purposefully piss people off. I hear the honking, see them trying to maneuver bigger cars into smaller spaces behind me out of frustration, and I don’t care. If I’m being honest, I inch closer to the edge so they can't make it past me. I am paying forward my past frustrations. With one foot on the brake I force the lesson I learned the hard way on them in an easier fashion. They just don’t know it yet.   I waste...

Continue reading

The Waiting Room

StockSnap_LNYYCG845L

Sometimes we are on the fast track. Sometimes we are in advancement mode. And sometimes things are plain slow.   Do not get discouraged or despondent when you are in the waiting room. Yes, you might not be able to see much changing around you, but there’s always an opportunity to look within and nurse the next big idea, discover more about the gem that you are, and decide what your next step will be.   Even when you are waiting for a response to an application, an offer for a position, feedback on a proposal, etc. there’s always...

Continue reading

My Single Story (Part 2): Weathering Storms and an Awareness of Silver Linings

StockSnap_SHCRVOAB5V

  We arrived in Cleveland, Ohio and to my surprise another snowstorm awaited us. Slightly less snow, slightly less wind chill factor, but still cold as I don’t know what. Not exactly the warm welcome I had anticipated on the first day of the rest of our college lives.   We were directed to on campus parking, assigned our dorm rooms on the 11th floor, and began the arduous task of moving bin bags to bedrooms. We settled in to a smaller and less glamorous space than in Iowa and went in search of food. We were tired,...

Continue reading

My Single Story (Part 1): Snowstorms and an Awareness of the Colour Black

StockSnap_KCY1MEEWD2

'I’m done with this town! I’m done with this school! I’m done with this toxic environment. I cannot stand the negativity or the racism.' This was my closing argument when I decided to transfer universities after two years in the middle of nowhere, USA. I was tired of people commenting on what “good English” I spoke, especially because “good English” is not proper English. Every time they said it the editor within me cringed a little more. I was tired of being reduced to a colour - black. I was also tired of them asking me...

Continue reading

The Audition for a New Life

StockSnap_8BC69750HJ

Natasha was nervous. This was unusual for her. Her palms were sweaty, her make-up felt like it was caking and her armpits were prickly. She had given countless presentations to boardrooms full of corporate execs. She had commanded the room and convinced those of the worth of what she was saying. She could accredit her extreme career rise from intern to junior associate in record time to the fact that they bought into almost every pitch and presentation she made. The company recognized Natasha's talent, increasingly gave her more responsibility and as she succeeded and progressed...

Continue reading