womanhood

a work in progress

Category: Faith? (Page 1 of 2)

The Problem With Religion & Spirituality

I’m yet to find a spiritual person who doesn’t talk as if they have achieved a height in their life that is higher than yours.

One who doesn’t speak of their wellness.

Their incredible depths.

As if.

You, the listener, really need to be a part of it all for your life to be better than it is right now.

And I think that’s the problem with it.

Just because you, the spritiual / religious person, think you know more, doesn’t mean you are more.

Everyone is just as amazing, blessed and incredible as everyone.

X

K

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How To Dream

If you are to dream, Don’t do it cautiously. 

Or hesitantly. 

Or steadily even. 
Dream irrationally. 

Ridiculously. 

Wildly. 

And with abandon. 
Because that my friend, 

Is how one ought to dream. 

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Raas

You could be staying at RAAS and still be unhappy. Still wishing, seeking for perfection. 

You could have marble floors and crisp white towels. 

And still be unhappy. 

You could have a loving man at your side and a serve of chilli paneer, paneer tikka and spring rolls at your table and still unhappy. 

You could be loved by all you love. 

And still be unhappy. 

You could have a son happily tucked into bed, with eyes shut and lashes framing them like a crescent moon. 

And still be unhappy. 
And I realise. 

All over again. 
That it is simply because. 
You are ungrateful. 
X

K

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Pedestals 

I think we all put people on pedestals. 

Influences. 

Sisters. 

Friends. 

Mentors. 

Parents. 

Entrepreneurs. 

Yogis. 

Artists. 
Etc. 

etc. 

etc. 
But I think the closer to ground they are in our minds, the better it is. 

Everyone of us is flawed. 

We all have aspects which can be vindictive, cruel, manipulative, hurtful, greedy and harsh. 

EVERYONE of us. 

And it’s ok. 

Sometimes we act on them, sometimes we don’t. 
But its imperative we recognise that other people we love or admire or adore, also have these traits. 
And that is ok. 
x

K

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To show vulnerability

Is a terrifying feeling.

To give into a friendship, without really having charted the territory prior, is such risky business.

To under perform, or not live up to a husbands belief value set and fear his low opinion of you. His rejection of you.

To go to a party and stare at a wall, because you can’t really make yourself into that conversation. Feels so challenging.

To not show up for your child, to say, I love you, but I’m going to be late today. Or I love you, but I don’t have it in me to get out of bed today. To not be bothered feeding them, because you just can’t bear the drama. Feels so so so bad.

To listen to pop music and then dull it down, reject yourself in a joke, LIKE YOU CAN’T BELIEVE YOU LIKE IT, because you perceive it as uncool.

To tell a friend you care about, that you simply don’t like parties and don’t want to show up to hers. Feels like you are going to hurt them so much, but its either that or it’s lying about your child being sick on the night when she really expected you to show up.

To wear black in the morning, because you don’t want anyone to look at you. You don’t want anyone to notice you, because you feel your fat levels are too much or your skin isn’t radiant enough. If you attract too much attention, they’ll say, why is she trying so hard?

To not be okay with parts of you.

And push them into a corner.

Because your other bits shine better.

Is holding back all of you.

Because your darkness, your curves, your skinny-ness, your pimples, your unwillingness, your inabilities, your bluntness, your crudeness and your lack of perfection.

Your each and every imperfection.

Is what gives you perfect.

Makes you complete.

Owning every vulnerable part of you is so fucking hard.

I kid you not.

I’ve been asking myself for days.

What do I fear?

What am I scared of?

Why am I doing this when I WANT to do that?

Why am I being this when I WANT to be that?

It is so hard.

But owning it.

Is the best place to start.

Xx

K

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Diwali 

For the first time in over 10 years, I sat down to make a garland.

And curiously enough, I remembered the times I’d make a garland with my grandma.

We had to be showered and fresh.

The bowl we collected the flowers in had to be washed, as did the surface we were going to make the garlands on.

There were always roses, marigolds and jasmines in our garden.

We’d measure roughly, sit down and start.

It would probably have been a 30 minute process.

But it was.

Serene.

And looking back, I know I went through the motions.

I’d rather be garland making than washing the dishes.

I probably never really smelled the scent.

Never paused to be with the leaves.

Never enjoyed the silence and solitude of it all.

It was a form of meditation.

I just didn’t know it.

And I know now, why we make garlands.

Perhaps simply for that 30 minute respite in the day.

A thing we did for the Gods, serving us better in it’s own way.

X

K

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Kholo.

NOTE: Featured image is from the Viktor & Rolf exhibition at NGV.

//

Today I was at a cafe and I put my phone away and I thought and I thought. 

It always feels like you’re being stared at when you go alone to a cafe. 

But it always opens a new facet in my mind. 

So I’ve been starting my haute/embroidery journey. And for a few reasons, I haven’t shared it here. 

Reasons being; 

  1. What if I totally FUCK it up? (Sorry M & P – but seriously!). I think some part of me knows I won’t. I just know it deep inside, but that doesn’t stop the fears from surfacing. 
  2. What if you don’t want to read about it? This blog hasn’t always been about a business journey. Rarely if anything. So I don’t want you to leave. But I totally understand if you need to. I can change your subscription settings to omit and business posts if you like 🙂 That I can do! 
  3. I don’t know where I’m going. It’s not like loading up a dishwasher. I have no idea of how this is going to unravel. I’m just diving in. As I usually do. Hoping for nothing but the best. 

So. I wanted to let you know. If it’s okay with you. I’d love to share this journey with you. More coming soon! This is enough reading from me to you for one day 🙂

So excited. Tell me you are too. For me my friend 🙂 

Xx

K

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Rahisya Nadi

Bear with me on this one – I’m not a doctor or an Ayurvedic specialist. But once we get to the crux, you might feel ideas and thoughts ticking in your brain.

So, V and I have had multiple conversations on this – and in short – imagine a cord from your mind to your heart. Imagine that cord storing strong memories. Once a tragedy strikes or you feel something super deep, it gets stuck in your Rahisya Nadi – the cord from your mind to your heart. 

Now that you’ve got that bit. Let the story begin. 

// 

A long time ago, I was young and naive and really impressionable. I met a girl who liked the same kind of music I did. I was girl crushing big time. Finally, in the little town of Suva, I met someone with similar artistic interests to me. This hadn’t not happened in my life yet. I wanted to hang out! 

And so we did! It was awesome. 

However, after a while, for some reason, this girl was a bit more interested in my sister’s friends than me. One day I called and I realise she didn’t even want to talk to me, she told her mum to tell me she was too busy. 

I was so broken. 

From that day onwards, I never really leapt into friendships. I held back. Observed. I was reserved and cautious. 

I could never really express my true delight in being friends with someone. 

In my eyes. 

It was a weakness to express so much of my heart. 

//

I had an open heart. 

But after this experience had nestled itself in my Rahisya Nadi, I was cautious and closed hearted. It often takes me years to make deep friendships and even then, I never go around saying, “I heart you so much!” – unless I’m drunk. 

V asked me:

If you met a woman who was open hearted. 

Vs. 

A woman who was closed hearted. 

Whom would you rather be friends with?

//

The thing is. Life is about unravelling the life lessons that come from fear and dark experiences.

To be like a child again.

And let the fear go.

X

K

Promise You

I can’t promise you.

I can’t promise you it’ll be easy.
I can’t promise you we’ll all always be there for you.
I can’t promise you that you’ll never cry alone.
I can’t promise you that all people you meet will live up to your idea of great people.
I can’t promise you that it’ll be peachy.

I can promise you that it’ll be challenging.
There will be days that will bring you to your knees.
Moments when you’ll wish you could rewind or undo the decisions.
Struggles that felt they would be easier, till you met them in the face and they gave you whiplash from the shock.

This love.
This life.
These choices.
The hardness.
The grittiness.

It all ain’t easy my friend.

But in the end.
How you see it.
How you feel it.

Has nothing to do with what it is.
And everything to do with your spirit.

So if you have to fix anything.
If you’re wondering where to start when the pain comes.
What part of you to soothe first.

Choose your spirit.

X

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On Priviledge

This is an iffy topic. 
You see, there was a time when I was a girl from Mt. Roskil, stacking cans of Coke in a dairy fridge after school.
There was a time when we got to choose one gift for our birthday. 
Then there was a time when we lived with our grandparents, the five of us plus the two of them in a 3 bedroom house with a single toilet and a single bathroom. 
Soon after that, there was a time when we took a holiday every year – and by holiday, I mean an international vacation. 
Private school, iPhones, iPads, Peugeots. The luxe life (I mean, to you it might not be a Merc, but for me, it was, the luxe life). 
Papa always concealed the funds to us, we never knew if there was more or if there was less. Only Maa knew. 
From what I thought, we always had plenty, always had enough. 
Always priviledged. 

And soon after I got married, there was a time when I thought $10 was expensive for a lunch out. Cheap eats became my thing and I don’t say this from sorrow or grief or like I went through a tragedy. I say it with a secret pride. 
My friends were chipping in $50 for birthday gifts and I couldn’t find the words to say, “Gee that feels like a lot”. 
My salary was $42K a year and by the time it reached the bank account I was surprised by how little people lived on. 
I never knew much about the money. 
It was never a core strength or an area of interest. No matter how much my mother-in-law wanted to guide me, I couldn’t be the sponge to soak her advice. 

After the steady salaries, came the low funds from being business owners. 
There were fights. 
I pined for dresses and bags. 
Trips my sisters took but I couldn’t. 
Or boots my sisters bought that I couldn’t. 
I fudged conversations, told myself I didn’t really want the things I wanted. 
This is not poverty my friend. I know that and so do you. 

But after the counselling and the meditation. 
After the investing and the weekend working. 
And after our little darling Aru. 
Shit kinda came together. 

And what I’m saying is. 
We believed. 
I’m saying on those weekends when we went into work. 
Through those 2am wake ups to see if a developer had done his job. 
Beyond those lattes we missed and the ones we had. 
We believed. 

That it could work. 
This could work. 
A life the way we wanted it to be. 
Could work. 

And people look at us today – they say we’re priviledged. 
I agree. 
I say, “Yes, we’ve always believed we’re priviledged”. 

And tomorrow, when the storm rages, if it rages, we’ll stand by it. 
And believe. 
That we are priviledged. 

Because it is this belief. This belief itself. That has made us priviledged, through the storms gone past.

So my question to you is, do you believe you are priviledged?

Xx
K

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