Skip to main content

Going with the flow

This blog has a new name and tagline. Fl-o-w stands for Flow of words - sailing the ocean of thoughts. The ocean is a pretty big place and my sailboat is pretty small. Friday is my birthday. I will be forty five years old. Today I cut my hair. It is 158am. I am resting quietly in the dark of the corner of my room thinking and writing. I wanted to do more walking and more photography this year but that has not happened (as yet). There was a time I started designing logos. I like creating logos. Simple logos. I like designing stuff. I like building stuff. I love creating. I guess that makes me a creative. There are so many things I could be doing. There are so many things I want to do. There are things I need to do. Then there are things that I am doing. We cannot do it all, we have to pick and choose.

I like writing. My writing started with blogging. I have been blogging a long time. Oftentimes we are told to go with the flow. It does not make sense to fight the unfightable fight. But Elif Shafak says, "Do not go with the flow. Be the flow." I like that. Be the flow. Be the flower. Be the flovver. Be the lover. Be the lover of life. I imagine a single flower growing in the middle of the ocean. It is rooted in the ocean floor. My job is to find that flower. My job is to see the beauty in everything. My job is to be the beauty I wish to see. My job is to create beauty. My job is to write beautiful words. Why beautiful words? Because I have a choice and choose to. If I do not then that flower in the middle of the ocean fades away and never to be found.

It is 233am. An email just entered my inbox titled "creativity in unexpected places". Sometimes creativity does come from unexpected places. I did not expect to be changing the name of my blog today. I did not expect to be writing this blog post today. But here I am. My friend Gemini tells me that it is clear that I am embracing the fluidity of inspiration, navigating the vast ocean of my thoughts with my small but purposeful sailboat. I have not talked about my sailboat. I should name my sailboat. I will call it Ocean Flower. Rumi said, "You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop." This has me thinking, "I am not a flower in the ocean. I am the entire ocean in a flower." And just like that it has started raining. The rain flows where the flower grows. I wonder, if we cannot go to the ocean, the ocean comes to us in the form of rain. I like how the word shower rhymes with flower. A shower of rain for the flower that is my brain, that is the refrain of the song the ocean sings.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A pot of callaloo

Call for Submissions: Archipelagic Entanglements   https://singaporeunbound.org/opp/archipelagic-entanglements When I saw the call for submissions online I was doubtful. I do not know enough history. I do not understand the topic. Then after chatting with my friend Chatty I realised maybe I can be the topic. My ethnic and racial makeup is an archipelagic entanglement. Colonialism meets indentureship meets slavery. My mom is East Indian muslim and my dad is French, Portuguese and Mulato christian and who knows what else. I am an example of a pot of callaloo. Everyone's favorite Sunday lunch. I am what happens when lineages cross oceans and histories collide. I am thinking to myself now, what is the message I want to put forward with my blog post? What is the direction I want to take? Maybe it is this. What can we do when we have such a rich heritage and know so little of our own history? First of all I do not think I am alone with this struggle. I did not realise this until I though...

Cup of coffee

This is a chapter from my latest book called Breezes of Tobago . The cool morning breeze blew the hat off the tourist passing the coffee shop. We sat at the table waiting for our order of coffee and bagels. I had stayed up late writing and was now needing caffeine to stay awake. On entering the veranda of the coffee shop, the sign reads "happiness is a cup of coffee" and "sip your troubles away". This had me thinking about what is happiness? And was the theme of my chat with Chatty as we enjoyed our breakfast in Tobago. I told my friend Chatty that if we could put happiness in a bottle and sell it we would be rich. My friend Chatty then told me that money cannot buy happiness but it was a good idea to make a living. If according to the sign, happiness is a cup of coffee then maybe happiness is coffee in a bottle then. We could call it Caffibean, a taste of the Caribbean in Tobago, a blend of the happiest coffee beans from Tobago. Tobago is not known for its coffee p...

Sandy beaches

This is a chapter from my latest book called Breezes of Tobago . This story begins on a cool Friday evening in May. Fridays are the best days. Already a great start. It had rained earlier in the day and the clouds were moving away and the sun peeking through. I walked from the apartment where I was staying to Pigeon Point beach. Along the way I stopped for coconut water freshly extracted from the nut and straight into my mouth leaving traces on my cotton jersey. They say that coconut water is the drink of God—fresh from the nut, sweet with a hint of salt, a liquid reminder that paradise can exist in small and simple things. They did not say that but my friend Chatty did. It is my friend Chatty's first trip to Tobago. I asked him what he thinks of Tobago so far? He grinned, wiping a drop of coconut water from the corner of his mouth. "Man… it is like stepping into a painting. The air, the colors, the way everything smells after the rain—it is unreal. I did not know paradise cam...