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So tell me, what are your shades of pleasure? As I write this post, the song from ‘Like A Prayer’ by Madonna hums in my head, except that I change it from ‘when you call my name,’ to ‘when I call your name.’

Indeed, it’s a prayer when we beseech others and they attend to us through the kindness of their hearts. Last week, I sent out an SOS post requesting for support from all of you to help me with pushing my new book ‘Unbridled’ and indeed I heard your voices.

Many of you responded with advice, tips, offers, reblogs, featuring and I am working slowly through the list of things to do. I am so thankful for the outpouring of support. I am down on my knees and bless God for being in the midst of the blessings of this community.

Indeed, your voice takes me higher. I am grateful and think of an African proverb that says ‘when relatives help each other, the community grows stronger.’ You are my relatives.

Below is a snippet of review from Aspen Book Tree Reviews

Second, I want to say, this is beautiful poetry.

Thank you, Jacqueline.  You are amazing.

To Purchase ‘Unbridled.’ Pretty notepads are one of my favourite things. I indulge in going to a book or stationery store often and the way that I look at the journals for sale – each time with shiny eyes like a child let loose in a candy store – I visualise my words coming alive and filling up the notes.

I always carry a notepad and pen in my bag, maybe that’s why I like sizeable shoulder bags – hubby always teases me about lugging a bag full of wonders all over the place.

Ever since I became aware of my writing passion, I’m known to squeeze in a little notepad inside a dainty purse so that I can quickly scribble my observations at a dinner party, outing or wherever. It makes me feel like a professional sleuth. I know all about using gadgets and computers, but it just doesn’t feel the same to me as writing into my journals.

In so many years, I haven’t chucked out any of my notepads, except some weeks ago when I went to the mall with the children. After galloping through the shops, we sat down to eat and I left my notepad on the table to briefly use the ladies.

By the time I returned, horror of horrors, my notepad had gone missing! Unfortunately, the kids had excused themselves to use the washroom as well and it was left on the table for a whole five minutes.

I felt robbed and I literally interviewed everyone within the vicinity, but no one had seen my beautiful butterfly pink pad. For several days I was simply upset thinking of all the spur of the moment ideas that I had scribbled down and some unknown person was privy to my naked thoughts. Lesson learnt. Where ever I go, never leave notepad lying around again.

If and when we leave the UAE, I am going to find a way to smuggle my journals along with me – though I know my husband will query my sanity for paying excess luggage to carry dog-eared notepads along 😉

Sadly, I failed to keep those that I had during my much younger days because I’ve moved around quite a bit in my life and carrying them didn’t occur to me back then. I bet the notes written in them would have made an interesting read for me.

Do you have a journal passion? Earlier in the week, I read a post where a blogger shared her fear of someone stealing her notes and I could totally relate to that. I’d rather give away the clothes off my back than my journals.



 

© Jacqueline


 I believe in being steadfast in everything that I do, but the past few weeks have challenged my usual enthusiasm that I find myself doing the barest minimum.

It’s been somewhat a bag of mixed blessings, thankful to get up and do the things that need to be done in an automated mode and being thoroughly bored in-between – why I don’t know.

I don’t know whether to blame it on the torrid and melting heat over here, on unresolved problems that tug the edge of my mind or on having to take care of my family members where everyone seems to be sniffling, running temperatures, a bug here and there including myself or is it a combination of all?

There are days like today when I feel totally inundated and I simply want to reach out and chuck everything out of the window, then press the stop sign on the clock just to let life pause while I catch my breath.

I work at taking deep breaths and exhaling through the mouth, repeating it a dozen times, each breath let out to let go of pent-up emotions, anguish, and stress. I recognize that part of my stress is the unrelenting drive to succeed and when it seems that I am slower, I feel guilty for being slow which is absolutely wrong. There are lessons to be learned from being slow.

As I write this post, I take a pencil to my to-do list. I whittle it down to 5 simple things, making a clean slate for today and going slow. It’s a beautiful, blazing hot day today and I am thankful for common sense and to recognize that I’m not a superwoman, that there are days that I’ll be slow.

Today, I will only do 5 things – one of which is this, now it’s only 4 things; cook for my household, read other blogs, format my book, write that freelance post for publishing… already it sounds plenty.



 April is over and out, the first quarter done and dusted. As always I reflect on everything and nothing. I am learning that as a human being that all I can truly do each day is to give the best of my best. Yet there are days that my best falls below par and my head hammers at me that I’m not doing enough, but my heart keeps still and asks for harmony.

There are those days when the vagaries of life dictate the pace of my thought and actions even when I don’t want them to be so. Trying to live a purposeful – focused life has many positive fruits but can also come at a cost.

Those ambitions that faithfully dog my step and grasp my heart fail to let go. Instead, their demands to be achieved increase and there many times that I feel strong and know that I can do it all, yet there are many of those shaky moments when I wonder if I am being a fool for aspiring for so much?

I have been doing all that I do afraid, but with faith. Yet, I’m equally worried that I may never get it right but never worried enough to willingly stop trying.

I know without doubts that there are many like me. Those whose ambitions keep their thoughts racing and their hearts thumping in excited prospects, at the same time they are nervous at the thoughts of failing. I’ve failed in many things in my life, but for the life of me, I am never going to give up on my aspirations.

It may seem like a fool’s dream to want to succeed when one feels like they are between the Spring and Autumn of their lives. Someone, please tell me that I am not a fool having a mid-life crisis of wanting dreams that appear too tall to reach.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha


