“You will find something more in woods than in books.”
— Saint Berna
I spent the afternoon with Jude. He’s got a carpentry shop in my neighbourhood. Jude’s a cool guy. We play a lot of board game together. Chess. Ludo. His spot is a great place for a couple of guys to hang out.
There is something you need to know about Jude though. The guy likes to talk. This is especially true when it comes to talking about life and how to live a good one.
“Carpentry is just like life,” Jude said one day over a game…
“Oh, that’s so, me…”
I was seated in a cafe bar, typing away, when a lovely, hazel eye, blonde lady with straight hair, walked in with her boyfriend and gave everyone a hilarious show.
After collecting her order, she stretched her hand to toss a waste paper into the bin. Surprisingly, she dumped the money she was holding instead. Just about to walk away, she halts and gave out a loud laugh, realising what she has done.
Seconds later, she ransacked the bin to get the money out, with the boyfriend, and everyone else laughing.
That was when I went…
“When the pages of your life are flipped, let them show your losses and your wins, but never let them show you did not try.”
I hid in the backyard, peeping through the glass window, admiring the students as they practice different dance moves for our school end of year party.
This was over 15 years ago in high school.
I love dancing. But I am a 31-year-old man who cannot dance. Except you count dancing like the crazy Charlie Chaplin as being a dancer. Then heck no.
If you know a thing or two about Nigerians, then you know…
“Hey, Michael Jr, why do all black people look alike?”
Michael Jr is an African American Christian comedian who got his start performing at the legendary Comedy & Magic Club in Hermosa Beach: home of Jay Leno and “The Tonight Show.”
For me, Michael is the only comedian who leaves you hysterical without using curse words or any form of profanity. He is my favourite.
When Michael was asked this question by a man in the audience, the crowd immediately went silent. …
Cosi! Cosi! Cicio.
Tu? Come stai tu?’
‘Ahh, dicciamo bene.
Certo! Ho capito!’
‘fratello! come sempre — un espresso.
Oggi tu scrivi ancora?
Va bene. Buon lavoro.’
It’s usually how my morning writing starts immediately I walk into the small cafe two blocks from my house. I have found this place to be much better than in my bedroom. The smell of coffee, the inaudible sounds of people, and the soft jazz playing in the background have provided a nice spot for me to write.
Cicio is a Siciliano, and gradually…
“We naturally take things personally, the closer something is to our heart, to what matters to us, who matters to us, the more personal something feels. The more meaning, value and potential impact it has for us. The good and the bad, the acceptance and the rejection.”
Peace is tricky. That is what I have come to find out in my search for it. I realise, peace starts with a decision. A decision to let go. A decision to be yourself genuinely. A decision not to take things personally.
The Monster Guide To Life wrote a brilliant article on why…
One thing that has plagued my mind and saddened my heart is the rise of ignorance in an epoch of profound and unlimited access to knowledge. We live in a time where knowledge is virtually free. You literally can read a blog post about how to manage your emotions or what to look for in a good partner, in the same amount of time it takes you to commute from your work home.
Yet we have people who can’t seem to be bothered.
We used to have parents that buy books and library cards for their kids. …
“When I was a child I did the things that pertained to a child.” — Apostle Paul
Even though it was over 2000 years ago, the great apostle Paul understood that life is a game of stages. The beginning of anything we do, including our lives, is mired in mistakes, tries and errors and bad qualities. The good news, however, is we grow with time.
As long as we stick to it, we improve.
I can say my writing is nowhere near the way it was 4 months ago. I have made a lot of mistakes along the way. …
“I don’t know why she can’t see it?”
My girlfriend said as she walked into the apartment. She hurls her bag on the kitchen table, as she laments over her friend.
Surprised, and not sure of what she meant, I said; “What do you mean honey?”
Retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge, she turned towards me and said in an almost irritated tone; “She’s just 19 and he is 33...”
It was then I finally figured out who she was talking about.
At this point, my eyebrows are raised in a manner that says there is also an…
“I do not want much. Truly. Just a place to call home. With beds and sofas of sweet love. A place where the joys at least, outnumber the tears a bit.”
These are the words and longings of my heart most nights before sleep comes to shut these eyes. I seldom become weary of the life I lead. Tired of pointing fingers whether to self or another — whatever it may be.
Danielle Ratliff poem touched me. It reminds me of the lyrics of James Arthur song, Can I Be Him;
I swear that every word you sing, you wrote…