Tag Archives: inspiration

If wishes were horses… Part 2

Seeing dad bail on my big sis in a heartbeat reminded me of this very cool dad I met during my judicial attachment two years ago. He was the second witness in a civil case, where his daughter had been the victim of a hit-and-run. Since they were claiming damages, the defendant’s counsel was trying to prove to the court how the expenses cited under special damages had not been necessary.

One of the items in contention was a wheelchair, where the man had purchased one for his daughter after seeing how she was struggling to walk with crutches. The defence argued that the wheelchair had not been prescribed by the doctor and therefore wasn’t necessary; furthermore, they argued that, it had really been needless for him to hire a nurse and three personal tutors for his daughter.

I don’ know if my better judgement was clouded by the tender loving care this man seemed to have for his daughter, but I was of the opinion everything he got her was a necessity. The accident had her physically incapacitated for a year and because of that she missed a whole year of school. The way I see it, any loving parent would incur all those costs and more for their child, whether it was prescribed by a doctor or not.

“I do not need a doctor to tell me what to do for my daughter”, he argued unapologetically. “I’m a parent, and it’s my duty to ensure my daughter has her needs taken care of”. My heart melted. There I was, all grown up, but wishing I could have had such a dad. A dad who would always make my sisters and I feel loved and protected.

All through, dad has always made us feel like he got us accidentally. I always doubt he was ever ready to become a parent. Looking back at the things he’s done, I usually feel he’s never had what it takes to be a dad. For instance, when each of my sisters and I turned thirteen, he started regarding us with so much suspicion, always insinuating we were sleeping around.

Funny thing is we’d never given him any reason to think of us that way. Consequently, we stopped bringing male friends home because then he would erroneously assume those were the ones warming our beds.

Even in his constant drunken rumblings, he expressed his disappointment that we didn’t get knocked up before finishing school, as that would be the surest way for him to kick us out, so he wouldn’t have to put up with us anymore. Given a choice, I’m pretty sure he would have opted to not have us.

In addition to this, he’s always said he wouldn’t want us back in his house once we’re married…and seeing as he’s never been a loving husband to mom, we’ve always been afraid of getting married because if God-forbid we ended up with someone like him, we’d end up feeling trapped again, and for good this time.

Based on this sad life dad has subjected us to, I hate to think there are people out there leading miserable lives because they don’t know who their parents are. Sometimes I usually imagine, if I didn’t know who my dad was, I would be living a very troubled life, thinking how better my life had been if I knew him.

Well here’s the thing, sometimes our parents might turn out to be a huge disappointment, and a far cry from what we imagine they might be like. Take it from me. My dad’s always been around when my sisters and I were growing up, but he was never the kind, loving dad we hoped he would be.

I have this friend who lost her dad when she was around nine, and she told me she usually feels their lives would have been better if he hadn’t passed on. I remember feeling like she was looking at the grass on the other side and thinking it was greener. Sometimes it is…but sometimes it’s not. I guess if wishes were horses I’d have a loving dad…

Advertisements

If wishes were horses… Part 1

Sometimes my life makes me question the way things work…for instance, I have this friend who’s been raised by a single mom. Though I never tried prying, I put one and one and together and I sort of figured out how she ended up ‘fatherless’. Her mom’s a staunch Catholic, and her dad’s Muslim. Given that I almost got into a relationship with this Muslim guy I really liked, I understood why such a relationship would be laden with insurmountable hurdles…

Given the nature of both faiths, it would take huge sacrifices by both parties for the relationship to work. Then there’s the pressure from family, where they come with impossible demands, like for children to be raised in their faith and not the other… it could be an impossible relationship. Long and short of it is, my friend ended up without so much as a surname.

Though she normally wears short dresses and skirts, she occasionally dons hijabs, especially during Ramadan. It’s actually one of those instances that had me probing into her wardrobe. Then she went on to explain to me that though she was raised Catholic, she feels more Muslim; and true to that, though her names are Christian, her signature is a Muslim name. The first time I saw it I presumed that would have been her surname had her parents ended up married.

Interestingly, it’s her story that discouraged me from ending up with my Muslim sweetheart. Though at the time we were very close, slowly it dawned on me that in the long run things would get very complex… one of the basic differences in our faiths that posed a challenge from start was that in Islam marriage is a contract, whereas in Catholic it’s a sacrament, where two people are joined together till death.

Additionally, there are other sacraments like baptism, where it’s highly advisable for infants to be baptised, to rid them off of the original sin. So I found myself constantly wondering how we would resolve all the challenges arising from our different faiths if we ended up together… our children would be the ones to bear the brunt because they would be caught up right in the middle.

Then I thought of my friend; she could have been the fruit of a very strong love, but somehow she was caught in the middle, where I get the feeling she really yearns to have a present father in her life. I’m not sure I made the right decision, but I didn’t want to subject my children to all that.

My friend is one of the many people I know who grew up ‘fatherless’ and who seem to feel their lives would have turned out much better if their fathers had stuck around. However, knowing my dad and the life I’ve lived, I would beg to differ with her. Sometimes even when a parent sticks around, it’s not always a guarantee they’ll do good by their kids.

With my sisters and I for instance, we did grow up with our father, but I wouldn’t know where to start if I was to enumerate the pain and anguish he’s put us through.  Earlier today, he got into a heated exchange with my big sis. Thing is, when our small sis was opening school he gave her incomplete school fee, so my big sis made an arrangement with the school to have the money paid in instalments.

However, given how my dad’s mind works we could not tell him the money could be paid in parts because that would make him slack off next time since there would be no pressure to pay. Since she is a research assistant in her Alma Mater, she therefore told him she had a lecturer from her school loan her the money to clear the balance and dad agreed he was going to pay it back.

However, given that he was supposed to pay up today, he said he didn’t have the money. Distraught, my sis told him she was going to get in trouble with her lecturer, and the words that left dad’s mouth had me wishing I had a better dad. “Tell him you don’t have the money. He can have even go ahead and call the police on you”, he barked pitilessly. And I found myself wondering what kind of a father wished for their daughter to get arrested.

Interestingly, when he was arrested last December for drunk driving he was very quick to call mom so she could go bail him out. Then, he was so afraid of being locked up, yet today he didn’t seem to have any issue getting my sister arrested. I genuinely felt let down, because for some unfortunate reason, whenever dad has to come through for us; to act as a loving, protective father, he bails in a heartbeat; without the slightest hesitation.

Sunshine Blogger Award

Four years ago, before I got into law school, I had gotten into this very confusing phase in my life where I couldn’t quite decide what path I was supposed to choose. See, I’ve always loved writing and at the time I had only started my blog…so it was all so exciting and I couldn’t imagine my life without blogging.

On the other hand, I had to get into law school… that again was a dream I’d always had. Ultimately, I had to make the ‘dreaded’ choice, and for all those who’ve been stopping by, it’s clearly evident I kinda put blogging on hold.

For the last couple of years since then, I haven’t been blogging much, and I really thank you all for being so patient with me, especially on various occasions where my replies to some of your comments came in weeks later…

With all that going on, you can imagine how pleasantly surprised I was, when I saw this notification from Lauren about being nominated for a Sunshine Blogger Award, on a post I’d written about finishing law school. I felt like I was being welcomed back into this very vast and beautiful blogosphere.

Thank you so much Lauren, words are not enough to explain how grateful I am for this nomination. I am truly humbled. Please visit her lovely blog, hello lauren where she writes about her thoughts, musings and stuff…

As a prerequisite to accepting the award, the rules are:

  1. Thank the blogger who nominated you in your blog post and a link back to the blog.
  2. Answering 11 questions that the Blogger asked you.
  3. Nominate 11 new bloggers to receive the awards and write them 11 questions.
  4. List the rules and display the Sunshine blogger award logo in your post on your blog.

So here goes…

Answers to Lauren’s Questions

  • What is your favourite song and why?

Over time I’ve had very many favourite songs because it depends on the lyrics, tune and overall, the emotional state I’m in at the time. In light of this, my current favourite is Ed Sheeran’s ballad, ‘Perfect’. Since the first time I heard it, I’ve just been replaying it. The lyrics are beautiful, and that, combined with the slow beat tugs at my heartstrings. The other day I went searching for the lyrics and I discovered it’s Ed’s dedication to his fiancée and that made me love it even more because, speaking from a girl’s perspective, if a guy sang such beautiful words to me, I just might love him till the end of time.

  • What made you start blogging?

Long before I started blogging, I was still writing about my personal experiences and my opinion pieces which were based on other people’s experiences. Only difference was that I was writing on a journal, which only my two sisters had access to. Then over time I realised I could use some of my experiences to motivate other people. Sometimes when we’re going through difficult moments we feel like we’re alone and the crisis is only unique to us. It’s only after sharing our experiences with others that we realise there are many more people going through similar predicaments. That’s what inspired me to start blogging; so I could help others realise they are not alone…

  • What emotions fuel your writing?

Basically all emotions inspire my writing; when I’m happy I’ll write about it so I don’t forget it… kinda like immortalising the happy moment… However, given that I started writing as a way of relieving my mind off stressful thoughts, I tend to write more when I’m sad because I find it awfully therapeutic.

  • What was an instance in which writing was therapeutic for you?

I could think of so many instances… However, the one time writing really saved me from falling into depression, was the period after I finished high school. At the time I was in that phase where almost every teenager feels misunderstood by their parent (s). I used to argue with them pretty much about everything and given my introverted nature, I kept to myself a lot. Slowly, I realised the sadness was clogging my mind, so I started writing… emptying my thoughts on paper. Sometimes I’d do it crying and when I was done I’d feel very relieved.

  • If you had one wish, what would it be?

I would wish for war to cease in all nations… for all people to live in harmony, irrespective of our innate differences and varying opinions on everything under the sun…

  • What is your favourite movie, and why?

That’s a tricky one… I’ve watched several movies, most of which I loved. Interestingly, there’s this one movie which has left a mark I would almost describe as ‘indelible’ on my heart. A couple of years ago I watched Cinderella, starring Lilly James and Richard Madden. When I sat down to watch the movie I was thinking, ‘duh, this is just another Cinderella movie, whose storyline is so obvious. However, as the scenes unfolded, I realized this one wasn’t the typical story. This had a moral lesson: that no matter the situation one finds themselves in, however harsh, they should be courageous and kind. That was a ‘take home’ point for me… and the ‘Lavender’s Blue’ song was the cherry on top… it was really beautiful.

  • Star Trek or Star Wars and why?

At the moment, none of the above… because I haven’t watched either. Lol…

  • What are your hobbies/interests?

I have a couple of hobbies… I love inline skating, but due to ‘incessant’ school work, I haven’t had much time for outdoor activities these past couple of years… However since I recently finished law school I’m developing this new love for billiards and bowling. My all-time favourites are writing, reading, singing and dancing.

  • What makes you tick, lights a fire under you?

I love making people happy, so if I can do something, no matter how small, I’ll do it … One of the major things in life that really tugs at my heartstrings is people’s suffering so I’m always trying to do whatever I can to alleviate their suffering.

  • What is the one thing you could not live without?

I’m not sure God qualifies to be categorised as ‘thing’, but in the years I’ve lived, I know without a shadow of a doubt, that He’s the one thing I can never go even for a nanosecond without. He’s my all in all.

  • Who makes up your support system?

Emotionally, my mom and two sisters have been my constant tower of strength. Sometimes I find myself down, but their love always gives me the strength to push on.

Here are my nominees:

  1. Karinasussanto
  2. Dailyrant01
  3. Betweenthelines2017blog
  4. Thisbeautifullife826
  5. Paymansperspective
  6. prishla
  7. purplerays
  8. shubhangirawat
  9. eyesstraightahead
  10. perfectingpru
  11. Lookingforthelight.blog

 

Questions for my nominees:

  1. How did you come up with the title of your blog?
  2. What would you take to a desert island, and why?
  3. What’s your dream holiday destination, and why?
  4. If you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?
  5. What’s the greatest lesson you’ve learned in life, whether from your own personal experience, or from someone else’s?
  6. If you had an encounter with your younger self, what would you tell them?
  7. What makes you happy?
  8. What’s the one thing you wish people knew about you?
  9. Who would you like to meet in person, dead or alive?
  10. Who/what inspires you most?
  11. Do you have a favourite quote/personal mantra?

Happy Blogging!

Of finishing law school and dreaded goodbyes: Part 2

That evening I teared up all the way home. When my small sis opened the door she noticed how puffy my eyes were. “Did someone hurt you?” She turned my face sideways, scrutinizing it for slap marks or something of the sort. “I’m gonna cut a b*@!h,” she cursed. She was too concerned I might have gotten hurt to notice what I was carrying. Then I laughed, and she relaxed a bit.

Stealthily, I placed the gift bag on the nearest couch and thankfully, she headed to the kitchen to check on the food. A while later, my big sis came and I told them what had happened. By then the tears had stopped, though I could tell it wouldn’t take much for them to start again, since that sluice-gate had been officially opened.

Their reactions when they saw my portrait were not so different from mine. Though they didn’t cry, I could tell they were as moved as I was. “You have amazing classmates,” my big sis remarked. “Now we forgive them, for everything they put you through”.

Like I had told my classmates earlier, being nice is a choice we constantly make, even when we find ourselves pushed to the corner. Serving my class for four years had not been an easy task. Sometimes I had to deal with malevolent lecturers, and sometimes, it was just some difficult colleagues giving me a hard time…sometimes I came so close to throwing in the towel… and my family was there to see me through the motions.

One of the gifts I received was a custom made ‘thank you’ card. It had thank you notes from several colleagues and as I read the sweet messages, the tears that were already welling up in my eyes started flowing again. My class had made me feel so appreciated on such a grand scale… and the feeling was inexplicable.

I’ve gifted people severally, and I know how much time and effort it takes to find the perfect gift. One has to understand someone’s tastes, and preferences… and my classmates did that for me. That thought made me feel like I’d never stop crying.

“We gave you that portrait, so that everytime you look at it, you’ll remember how awesome you are,” my friend who had organised the surprise had told me. I knew I would never be able to thank them enough… and that saying about family, ‘Family’s not always blood. It’s the people in your life who make you feel loved and cherished’, came to mind… from law school, I had also acquired a new family. I went there, not knowing anyone, except for one friend, who was the school’s student leader… and as I left, I knew hundreds of students, who were now my family. I sincerely felt blessed.

The last few classes before we went to sit our final exams felt like our last bonding moments, and I couldn’t help the wave of nostalgia that engulfed me. I’ve always hated goodbyes… and after the surprise my classmates had treated me to, I knew when the time finally came, I would have the hardest of times saying goodbye to these people who I’d spent the last four years of my life with. Thankfully I had exams to keep my mind preoccupied, so I never got much time to think about the looming goodbye.

Eventually, we sat our last paper, but before we did, guys were reminded to hang around for a while because we were going to have a cake fest. Our professor, whose paper we had last, was invited and as he was about to cut the cake, he requested that I join him and my co-rep. Guys clapped and cheered, and as they dug in, that sad feeling that this would be the last time we were gathered in one class together hit me…

There was so much cake, and on a normal day I would have had a ball eating to my fill; however, nostalgia capped my appetite… I just had a tiny piece. Eventually, my friends and I left… on my way back home, I knew I should be happy that I had finished ‘the’ law school.

The workload over the years had been intense. I didn’t have a social life, and almost all my Christmases I spent reading… so this was an achievement to triumph over… Nonetheless, my feelings seemed to suggest the contrary. I felt happy and sad… excited and anxious… and the ‘not so happy’ feelings felt dominant.

The morning after, didn’t feel any different. I was still feeling pretty nostalgic. When I checked my phone, I found a very sweet text from my co-rep. He has never been the mushy type, so getting such a text from him, wasn’t an ordinary occurrence. He was thanking me for always having his back… his sentiments tugged at my heartstrings and I got all mushy. But I wasn’t gonna cry again… I cautioned myself.

When I checked my email, I found another sentimental mail from this classmate who was very quiet and laidback. He was also thanking me for making their life in law school simpler…before I could talk myself out of tearing up, tears were already flowing down my cheeks. That is how Saturday ended… with my classmates calling, texting and sending mail to thank me for being the best class president ever.

One thing I told one of my friends when he texted me was that, it’s true what they say, ‘Kindness begets kindness’. Therefore, if my classmates felt I was so humble and kind, it’s because they had been kind to me. I simply gave back, what they gave me.

So now that I’m done with Law school, I thank God profoundly, for the four years I’ve been there. Other than the legal knowledge I’ve acquired, I’ve made friends… acquired a whole new family… and above all, I have learned first-hand, the value of kindness and humility…

Of finishing law school and dreaded goodbyes: Part 1

These past couple of years I have been chasing after my law degree. It has been a real rollercoaster of emotions; anger, excitement and desperation, especially when trying to beat extremely tight deadlines. It has been a real struggle. However, last week Friday marked the end of all that, since I sat my last exam.

That said, these past few weeks have been very nostalgic for me. I have been interacting with the same people, most of whom have become my very close friends, for four long years. So it would go without saying that having to part ways with them was not the best of feelings. When my mind was not too preoccupied with the exam revision, I would find myself dreading the thought of having to say goodbye, when we finally sat our final paper.

Interestingly, the weeks leading to the finals didn’t make the looming goodbye less nostalgic. A week before we started our exams, my classmates decided to surprise me. A few days before, one of my friends requested to take my pic, explaining that she was creating an autograph book… sort of a personal year book. Hesitating, I accepted telling her how much I wanted to see the book when it was ready.

A couple of days later after class, the same friend made a quick announcement that guys shouldn’t leave just yet. At the time I didn’t know what was happening… so I watched as she made her way to the front of the class, a big gift bag in hand.

By then the entire class was watching, obviously with a touch of dramatic irony as I figured out later, since everyone was in on it. My friend proceeded to request me to step forward, which I did. A frown creased my forehead, my eyes a little squinted, as I tried to comprehend what was going on. Thankfully I found out a few seconds later.

As it turned out, the class had decided to express their gratitude for the role I had served as the class president since first year. I had not seen that coming, and the emotions that came with the realization were overwhelming.

Since I was elected class president, I did everything in my power to help anyone who needed my assistance. I didn’t ask for reward or any form of gratitude because deep down I felt very happy knowing I was helping someone. To me, the thought of seeing others happy made whatever sacrifices I had to make feel all worth it.

Therefore when I realized what my classmates were doing, the first thing that came to mind was how unnecessary it all was. I did not want them to feel like they owed me anything because every little thing I did, I did without expecting anything in return.

After giving a brief speech, my friend reached for the gift bag which she had placed on the floor, and she pulled out a gift that was nicely wrapped and handed it to me. At that point I had started getting really mushy and I could tell it wasn’t going to be long before my tears started… before I could open it, some classmates came, hugging me and telling me thank you.

However, majority of the class insisted I open the gift first, so I started unwrapping it. I could tell it was either a big photo frame, or a book… As I tore the last of the wrapper, guys went quiet… I figured everyone was eager to see my reaction. When I managed to open the gift, the first thing I saw was the back part of what seemed like a picture frame… just as I had guessed.

But lo, and behold! When I upturned it, the tears I had tried so hard to hold back gushed over my cheeks. Right in front of me, was a portrait of me… and the million thoughts triggered by that very personalised gift had me crying nicely… and at that point I didn’t care to stop them anymore. This was the same photo my friend had requested to take… only that someone had used it to make a pencil portrait of me…

My mind remotely registered people clapping and cheering; and before I could get over the surprise, guys were hugging and handing me more gifts. I think that was the best surprise of my life. After the first three gifts I stopped opening them. It was all so surreal.

Then when I had received all the gifts, I was asked to give a brief speech. It was all impromptu but I just spoke from my heart… “This was really unnecessary, because I have never expected anything in return. You usually say I’m so nice, but in all honesty, being nice is not always easy. It’s a choice we make. And with me, my desire has always been to make people happy… to make people’s lives easy in my own small way. Thank you so much. May God bless you all, so so much.”

My close friends were asked by some classmates to ensure I got home safe… and with everything intact. That only made me cry some more… Funny thing is that, a few days before, I’d been telling my two closest friends how I hate crying in public… guess I’d spoken too soon.

 

Waiting patiently for my ‘Lamborghini’…

It takes one tonnes and tonnes of strength for their faith, and willpower not to be swayed easily by difficult situations… and I’m speaking from experience. I think on average, the state of affairs in my life is one that is almost-always depressing. It has become a habit for me to talk myself out of stressful thoughts that by now would have had me falling into an abyss of clinical depression.

Occasionally, on days when I’m just trying to be honest with myself (my faith in God aside), I’ll internally admit that this life is hard; really, really hard. However, since my mom and two sisters are more pessimistic than they are optimistic, I try to remain positive for their sake at least, so that when worry sets in, we won’t all drown in it.

Comfortingly, even with all our seemingly incessant problems, God has showed me that He really listens when I call; so I’ve learned not to rush Him. He does take His time sometimes but when He ‘arrives’, He does it in style; so the wait is always worth it. That thought is what keeps me motivated. I kinda equate this feeling to when a teenager requests his parents to buy him a car on his 16th birthday. He waits anxiously, only to be disappointed when he receives some relatively cheap gift instead.

His 17th birthday comes and goes, and there’s no car still. So he gets very desperate and reminds his parents that all he wanted was ‘just a car’. Something he can drive to college in… He gets more frustrated because he’s wondering how come his parents haven’t noticed all the kids his age already own cars…

When he realizes the car might not be coming from his parents ever, he even stops asking for it; and it even gets more exasperating when his parents fail to offer any explanations for not granting the request. On his 18th birthday however, something totally amazing happens…

Naturally, because of the crashed expectations over the months, he’s not even eager to get out of bed because he already realized the car he really wanted would be purchased with his own hard-earned cash in the future; furthermore, his friends and neighbours already teased him for not being able to afford a car, and the ‘joke’ got so old that they found something else to laugh about.

When he finally gets out of bed sulking and generally unexcited about turning a year older, he makes his way to the dining to have breakfast with the rest of the family. At that point, he’s feeling so lethargic that nothing, in his imagination, would be grand enough to wipe the gloom away.

Surprisingly, when he’s pulling up a seat, something odd occurs to him. It’s already bad enough that he never got his car, which from his own estimation, his parents could have afforded if they willed it; now on his 18th birthday, no one even seems to remember it’s his special day. At the table, everyone’s demeanour bespeaks of another humdrum day in the family’s life.

Even the younger siblings who are always regarding him with so much adoration barely recognise his presence. Things just got worse in a span of two years, he thinks; from relatively cheap gifts to no gifts at all. Suddenly the gift voucher given to him a few birthdays ago feels like an awesome gift.

However, when they are about to pray for breakfast, the mother announces that she was unable to have breakfast ready on time and she has a meeting so everyone will have to fix their own breakfast. At that point, the teenager wants to punch something… even getting breakfast on his birthday is now a problem. Infuriated, he pushes his seat back and when he’s about to exit the room, his dad calls out, “Hey, you forgot something”.

Internally, he feels like a volcano that’s just about to erupt. Nonetheless, looking over his back, he asks calmly, “What?” He masks his disappointment behind a half smile.

His dad only holds out the key in his hand, and the teenager kinda looks confused momentarily. He can see that is definitely a car key, but he’s wondering if that’s a hint for him to rush to the store to get a few ingredients for breakfast. Then to his surprise, the entire family says cheerfully, “Happy Birthday!” And suddenly, as realization dawns on him, he walks towards the dad and takes the car key.

“You didn’t think we forgot your birthday, did you?” The mom asks, smiling because she already noticed her son had thought they did. When he rushes outside, he can hardly believe his eyes. He only asked for ‘just a car’, but parked outside, is a sleek Lamborghini, and it’s all his. He even feels guilty for getting mad at his parents for not buying him a car.

“We didn’t want to get you just a car,” the dad says. “You are our son and we love you so much, so we wanted to get you a quality car. And we knew this is what you’ve always wanted, even though you never asked for it expressly.”

“I thought you didn’t think I was ready to have my own car”, he confesses, awash with guilt.

“We couldn’t afford it at first so we realised we would have to save up some more for it,” the mom offers. And it all suddenly makes sense to him. When the air has been cleared about delayed gifts, the mom tells them she made a breakfast reservation in a five-star hotel. The day that had seemed so dull takes a 180-degrees turn and everything feels like a scene from a fantasy movie.

That is how I see the relationship we have with God. He might take long to answer but when He does, He ‘arrives in style’. So unlike the impatient teenager, we need to wait patiently… and to trust God.

Dimming Star

I don’t know about you, but I love watching the sky on a starry night. The beauty of the star-lit night sky is just breath-taking. When I was younger, I used to spend time trying to identify the different constellations. I was so fascinated by them. Even nowadays, when I’m outside alone at night or in some company, I’ll just find myself gazing idly at the sky trying to make out some patterns. Guess some old habits never die.

Though my knowledge in astronomy is very limited, I do know that at some point stars die; beautiful as they are. I won’t go into details of that because even I do not quite comprehend how that happens.

So now that we’ve already established I’m not well versed with matters astronomy, I’ll just use figurative examples of situations we can relate to… in the bible, there’s that story of the Magi (commonly known as the wise men) and how they saw a bright star shining in the east. They followed it and it led them to where the new born Christ child lay in a manger, where they presented him with the gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Christmas star

In our day-to-day lives, we see stars too; they could be people, or bright opportunities which lead us to greener pastures. However, sometimes those stars also die at some point. My priest in church gave the example of a glass of wine… funny as that may sound, this may be a star that guides many people. Maybe one’s stressed and they just need to calm down so they pour a glass of wine, sip it away and the anxiety disappears.

Nonetheless, due to repeated use, the glass of wine becomes two bottles of beer and before one knows it, they’ve graduated to full-fledged alcoholics, who might even be abusive to those they live with. At that point, it becomes evidently clear that the once beautiful star died, as it stopped playing the role it was initially intended for.

Furthermore, the star could be a special person in our lives. When we’re with them we feel inspired to be our best possible selves. However, that relationship turns toxic and everything starts going downhill… we hurt those around us, constantly hurling invectives at them as a sort of venting mechanism.

We’re encouraged to exercise our better judgement and let those dead stars go once we realise they are turning toxic. Additionally, we should aspire to be stars to other people and resist the urge to be Herods (Biblical villain). Instead of following the star, which guided the Magi, for good reasons, jealousy made the incumbent king at the time want to kill the new born prince of peace. Fear of being dethroned made him ask the wise men to bring him information of the child’s whereabouts once they found Him, so he could have him killed

Now that this New Year is as young as it could get, we need to make an evaluation of what it is we need to let go of while it’s still early, so we don’t have regrets at the end of the year God willing. The Magi followed a star which led to them to Christ, the eternal light of the world. If we are not sure what star to follow, then that’s the one we need to focus our gaze on too; because that’s the one star we’re assured will never dim or die. It will always burn bright and illuminate our lives.