I am a small boat

half-ready to set sail


because I travel

so light

I’m tethered still to the shore

by many strings attached

not allowed to go

just yet

I wish I could

set sail today

Just go

instead of this aimless drifting

To and fro

To and fro

To and fro

I’d rather seek out

that beautiful


endless horizon

and vast open sea of unknown

I’d rather face that

than face..

The faces

on the shore



Waiting for that final goodbye


I peel it off the walls

ever so gently

the scotch-taped 


artwork of their childhood
But no matter how careful I am

a layer peels off

a layer of paint

of pain
Sometimes the glue (or our attachment)

is so strong

that we can’t say goodbye

without snatching a piece of home with us

or leaving a peace of us behind
Just to say:

We were here


The things one finds in the top dusty shelves of closets. The most forgotten unforgettable things💔
I’m such

A sentimental thing

A girl who 

Cannot help but bring

Across the world

A little toy

Meant for a little 

Girl or boy

A puppet

That her father bought 

Now tangled up 

And full of knots

See, every single 

Business trip

He’d sneak into her room

And slip

A gift

From Hamley’s🤠

At her feet

And tuck her in 

her Carebear sheets🌈

That’s how this puppet

Came to be

A symbol 

Of his love for me

And now I pack

Her tangled limbs

To go back home


But not to him





The precious objects

You collect
Those you display

Out there

For all to see
Unlike the other ones

The ones you hide

The ones you guard

With jealousy
I’m not your object

I belong to me

To “keep” me

Is to Leave me free
For the surest way

To lose me

Is to To try
Just try

To lock me up

And hide the key
You see?


Irvin Yalom is an existential psychotherapist. He teaches that the amount of one’s death anxiety correlates with the amount of unlived life.
Can you live with integrity? in a way, that is aligned with your deepest beliefs and values? 
Can you always make sure that the most important thing is in fact “the most important thing”?
Can you keep your eyes on the prize?
If you can, then you have a chance that when death comes, you might be able to say: Huh. So, this is the it. So be it. There’s not much I’d change about how I lived my life anyway, and not much I’d change about the rest of my days either.
And that, my friends, would be an amazing way to go.

Type A vs B


I’ve always been an A

Though I love the letter B

Fewer edges, softer curves

And closer to the C 🏖

Sure, As are full of drive

Aggression to succeed

But Bs are so relaxed

At their not-so-break-neck speed

As climb up and up and up

To reach the lonely top. ⛰

Where Bs will smell the roses 🌹

Laze around, just breathe and stop

It’s true that in the end

As make a lot of money 💰

But Bs build hives and lives

Bs make our homes 🏡 and honey  🍯

Not an “other”

A mosque up in flames in Texas where my sister is, another in Quebec City where 6 people were shot last night. I don’t see this as an anti-muslim thing only. It’s worse. It’s much bigger. It’s affecting all of humanity. I’m reposting this because it’s the same old story..with no new words.

So Many Hats (or Veils)


You would never have shot me

Or beaten me to the ground

If you knew me

If you knew me,

You’d never have been angry or afraid

If you knew me

You’d have loved me

You’d have shed more tears for me

than this blood on your hands

I think you know it

Yet can’t bare to know it

So you avoid my gaze

As the life leaves me body

You may look at me

But you don’t seeme

If you saw me,

You’d have seen yourself

Not another

Not an “other”

In February 2015, 3 Muslim students were shot in the head in their apartments. Days ago, a 24-year-old Saudi student was beaten to death by a stranger- who used his fists as bludgeons- outside a pizza shop.

I just don’t know what to say, except: Don’t shoot! It’s me! It’s you..


View original post


I will be happy when…No you won’t.

How long have you been saying that?

I’ll be happy when I get into this program, get married, have a child, get a haircut, get thin, get published, pass an exam, get a job, retire..

And on and on the list goes. 


There will always be something looming ahead promising happiness.

It’s an empty promise, it’s time to wake up..

and be happy now.

Empty tank



For several nights in a row now, I’ve been stumbling to my room so tired, that I fall face down, fully dressed, on top of the covers, legs dangling from the side of the bed..so exhausted that I fall asleep and my children are the ones to cover me and kiss me goodnight.. before going off to bed.

No matter, I march on the next day and the next, gotta keep going. Today, something happened to make me pause for a second.  While driving home after dropping them off at school, and mentally going through my to-do list, I noticed I was running low on gas. Great, one more thing on my to- do list. Can’t run on an empty tank.

“What about your tank?”

“Wha..? who’s that?..Oh, it’s you”

Everyone, let me introduce my self-compassion voice. She’s new, and her voice is still very low..or  is it a he? I haven’t decided on the gender-or the accent for that matter. He’s kind of like my internal Siri. Let’s go with deep throaty Irish accent today 🙂

So, Irish here raises a good point.. What about my empty tank? what about my falling asleep all over the place? huh?

So. I stopped the car downtown,  walked to my favourite store, and  bought this belt with pink feathers, which I have been wanting for a while. It was the very last one, and on a double sale!

(if you don’t know the significance of this belt, read this, you’ll enjoy it):


Then I went to one of my favourite cafes and had  a sinfully delicious breakfast (yes, it involved Nutella). And then..I went home, and did some work to ease my gnawing conscience (I’m not used to this degree of pampering). After that, I exercised, then practiced my new secret hobby # 1 and new secret hobby #2 (I’m a beginner and too shy to tell you what I’m learning).

By the afternoon, when I caught my reflection in the mirror, I swear I looked different. Some colour back in the cheeks and some sparkle back in the eyes.

Hey.. there you are, Wid..

You know, we work so hard at our careers and as mothers and caregivers that it’s hard to stop and take care of ourselves. Days like this are so rare and so special. Do they have to be?

In the end I went back to working on my computer and cooked and read to my children (we finished the last chapter of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets today..amazing!). I did all I had to do.

And I wrote..It feels like ages since I’ve written for my blog..

I guess I had something to give ..only after filling the tank.