things to be grateful for – night shift

No, I’m not grateful for night shifts, even though I must admit they did pay pretty well, at the call centre I worked in back in the days.

I lost count of the “things to be grateful for” drafts so far, but tonight I will just publish, whatever road this post decides to take me.

It was an amazing night. With amazing people.

I have been reading and studying and analysing people’s reactions to war and violence for years now, and I never cease to be in awe at the strength and resilience they show.
The humanity that never dies.
The life that screams through them.
The hope that refuses to fade.

And still, when I meet people who have been through all the violence and danger and war and risks, when I hear their stories, their will to go on despite all the evil they faced, despite the pain, the fear, the death around them, I am amazed.

A night out with my young brave Kurdish friend is an experience that left me lost for words.
The struggles she went through, as a Kurd in Syria, as a woman in a war torn Country, as someone living in a besieged city, as a stranger in a Country that is not hers, where she had to face hardship and sneering, and yet she never gave up.

Listening to her story, how she made her escape, the times she feared for her – and her loved ones’ – life, the new version of her she built here, I could not help feeling small, and humbled. Wishing to be more like her, and knowing I will never be.
And grateful for this friendship, that came unexpected, and is one of the greatest gifts this year had in store for me.

When the sun is always shining

It gets hard to find the silver lining.
No, I won’t start writing in rhymes (even though…), but the thought arrived in this exact form, and it seemed a shame to change it.

I have been really neglecting this blog, these last months.
Tough decisions tend to drain energy and hope, although they were probably good ones. Maybe they were not, and there are days I can’t help thinking that I’ve made a big, terrible mistake. Still, deep inside I know that I had to move on from a relationship that had become a cage.
I had to survive, somehow.

So here we go again.
I will have to give myself a task, a daily one, and try and stick to it. I’ve been through worse times, much worse times, I can’t let myself slip away for this. I need something to hold on to.

New project is: find something to be grateful for every day. Celebrate the little things. Friends, trips, books, a song, a smile from a stranger (hopefully I won’t stumble into stalkers 😂), a walk, a remainder of lives lost in an abandoned building…
No matter how much I sometimes enjoy drowning in self pity, I know that I have been blessed in many, many ways. I probably take it all for granted, and even the smallest disappointment seems a tragedy, and it’s time – again – to put things into perspective.
Let’s see how it goes.

I really need to write something about procrastination. One day. Maybe.

For the time being, I will just try to start writing regularly again, and follow the advice a sometimes wise, sometimes not, young (I guess) man gave me two months ago, when I first mentioned struggling with the blog.

I know you can’t wait to know what I have been up to these days weeks months, so here’s your prize for having been incredibly patient.

I moved to Lebanon. Really.
I thought it was going to be for a few weeks, but could not stay away for long, and now I am trying to find a way to stay here wothout drying up the little savings I have.
Maybe I will start working with refugees again. I would love to. How good would that be.
Trying to give back some of what I have received from life, join those who lost everything for a part of their journey towards a better life, a new beginning. It would be another gift to me, somehow, I suppose. But still, I would love to.

Will I be up to the task? Will I manage to be of some help and not an hindrance?
I hope so.

In the meantime, I am struggling a bit with my Arabic classes.
But then, I need to take this small step to get on the big road.

And take pictures along the way.

.

And so, where does all you optimism come from?

The famous silver line seems to be evading me these months.
And I know I do have much to be thankful for, a new job, a wonderful new friend, a boss – demigod – who in the end I found out to be a wonderful person, and made sure I did not have to worry about the future before he left.
And I have my family, and my health is fine, and I have a roof over my head.
But I am not happy. Far from it,  having my beloved one in Damascus is like a nightmare.
A nightmare I cannot wake up from.

Funny thing is, I keep telling him to be optimistic, not to lose hope, that things will eventually be fine, that the war will leave him and his family unscathed, that we will meet again soon, that all the plans that have been put on hold will finally see the light.

And he asks how can I still be optimistic.

And I don’t know what to say, I don’t know why, I only know I am striving to.

Then I found this, and it kind of sums up my feelings. I suppose.

 

https://twitter.com/alaindebotton/status/383303160103972864

A patient family

Clearly tired of sitting all day in an office, writing papers no one will ever read – except demigod and the centre of the Universe – I decided I have to go back to the field.
See people’s face, understand what’s needed and what we only suppose is, see the change, hopefully for the good.

So I started – more seriously – browsing through open positions, and found many interesting ones. It’s a wonderful area of work, difficult to find dull jobs. How did I manage to get my current one, is still a mystery.

When I was in Africa my family was worried all the time – same happened to me last month, with my loved one being “unaccounted for” in Damascus for three weeks, guess I had more reasons to be worried, honestly, but anyway  – so I browsed this list and decided to skip the top Countries, so they don’t need to worry too much.

But I have good chances to go to one in seventh position.

My mum will be so proud!