The European continental story.

As often as the mind wanders to a time past and memories cased in silver, the heart stumbles upon the road winding into the garden of life, love and beauty. The frosty winter night, waiting for the tram to bring them home; the lights twinkling in the chilly dark, the jingling of the bells announcing the arrival of Christmas, they hold the keys to her heart. Gluhwein in the sunny afternoon, next to the church on the street bursting with life; the river enshrouded in the season’s mist, the cobbled streets, strong and sturdy under their feet.

So many events, so many friends, through chance encounters or similar timetables, sitting on the bus ride home, chatting, bonding, breaking the ice between the massive differences in cultures. The route to school was always new, each day bore forth a separate adventure, a different path, a unique encounter. It was the summer’s end which began the story, the scorching sun on the grand schloss’ windows. The first glimpse of Mannheim, the flowers singing in their pretty blooming heads, it was hope, and a journey whose twists were anticipated, and savored.

Bags packed and doors opened, train tickets and the travelers sauntered, into the voyage they dreamed up of; through nights and days of endless planning. Finally, the earth seemed ready, for their exploration and eager souls. The sculptures, the great stone structures, next to carefree artists; yet again spilling their love of art from the magnificent sunset onto canvas. The ancient bridge, sturdy as a rock; and there they sat, glued, to the glory of nature’s masterpiece. Rivers and canals and squares and quaint shops, they dotted the self-explored map of their adventures. The mountains and landscapes unraveled the lost history from where Mozart was birthed. It was a stunning beginning; a blindingly magnetic draw, to continue in the continent which separated two ends of the earth.

Settling down in a town now home, for months to come; the classes began, a system different yet strangely familiar. It was their first time away from home so long, so brilliant and beaming with dreams and experience. You take some time to adjust they always say, but once you have, and have found their little nook and cranny in the mould of your heart, you feel less homesick and more alive. That summer ended; and autumn took its place on stage, a gorgeous rehearsal of auburn reds and rose-burn shades. Leaves which lined the pathways and cascaded in the smooth cool breeze, landed on the ground, tracing the doorways of their hearts. Friendships blossomed and reciprocated acts of kindness brought forth the surge of confidence to do what they would never have done before. A walk by the sea in Lisbon, city of seven hills, and trudging in the sunshine. It was time of indulgence and feeling the vibes of wherever they were.

It was the winter, however, whose early chill and soon-settled nights made them more aware of life and love, of desires and longing, of a need to be met. Sitting at the stairwell, the night of the party itself, fears dissolved and will suddenly so strong, it took just that moment, after endless persuasion, to make one crucial decision. Just days before a temporary separation, that not known then, but it was a decision to stake it all and feel, the need to love and chance, to try and dare without looking back. Fighting back all tears and fears, it was in another city, where having been etched in their hearts as the seabed of their bittersweet memories, where an exchange of pieces of their different lives was made.

A jigsaw puzzle pieced carefully together, a beautiful picture, stunning and finally completed.

The office

So many people leaving
Even more coming
Makes you wonder as you sit
If reality has really hit

Farewells and goodbyes
Niceties and hi-s
Just a normal BAU
People forming in a queue

Corridor talk in hushed small whispers
Worried glances and uneasy candor
A chance encounter
About a concealed matter

Invisible walls forming
Barriers up and storming
A war with two ends
Never knowing where it bends

Uncertain courtesies
Insincere banter
Questions lurking around
The eyes they don’t leak a sound

Coordinated planning
Around the floor scanning
Watch out they say
Watch your back even in the day

The relationships between
Bosses and subs and peers and neighbors
This isn’t school anymore
No one to catch you if you fall

But once in a while you find
A precious gem among the blinds
An honest spark of light and spirit
Brightening the long work week

A little question a little smile
Helps you run the unending mile
These little things they warm your heart
That’s all you need to start

The best gift a father can give his child

I came across an article this morning, that though deceptively simple, is really a piece of prose that deserves pondering; whether you are a male or female, father or mother, daughter or son.

So many fathers strive so hard at work to provide a “good life” for their families, sincerely hoping to give their families and children the sense of security and financial support which society deems very important. Yes, that is no doubt absolutely right. Yet one stark fact remains that because of the way many fathers wrongly bring their children up, through bad attitudes in the house and outside of it; many grow up more aware of the lack of a father’s guidance and love than of the dad’s actual physical presence. Articles have been painstaking written for decades about the impact of fathers on their children; their absence as significant as their presence. Once in a while, you come across something that really makes alot of sense.

Here’s the article I started this post with:

The best gift a father can give his child
by Beth McHugh | More from this Blogger

I was talking recently to a very dear friend who dropped this pearl of wisdom into the conversation: “The best thing a man can do for his children is to love their mother.”

The friend couldn’t remember where she had heard this saying, but it didn’t matter. The wisdom in these few words is both concise and profound. Think about that sentence again: “The best thing a man can do for his children is to love their mother.”

Really, in terms of the bigger picture, this says it all. In loving the mother, he will, by definition, love the child. Yet in loving the mother, he also sets up a profound sense of peace and stability in the child that is irreplaceable. For children who come from a stable, loving background, this may not seem of fundamental importance. That is because they have experienced the deep peace that comes from having grown up in a loving environment and know of no other way of being.

But for adult children of difficult or fractured backgrounds, the head nods in agreement. There was little sense of peace in such an upbringing. This lack of security plays out in later life. It affects relationships at school, relationships at work and, most importantly, love relationships. Not having a sense of childhood stability makes the adolescent and adult individual needy and insecure, and effectively limits their choice of suitable partners. Often children of unstable parental relationships will go on unwittingly to provide unstable homes for their own children, thus repeating the pattern.

A father who loves his children’s mother also sets up a valuable template for both his sons and his daughters. For his sons, he displays a role model which the growing male can take as his own model for treating all the women in his life, from his mother and sisters, to his ultimate life partner.

Such a father also provides a role model for his daughters. Here the impressionable young woman can witness in the comfort of their own home all that they should expect from the men in their lives. They also learn by definition what they should not have to put up with. Having a father who loves your mother makes you more likely to go on to choose a man who will truly love you.

Finally, in giving his children this great gift, he is also demonstrating the very opposite of what some parents believe is good parenting. He is giving the intangible gift of love, not toys, gifts, and endless monetary handouts. Intangible the gift of love may be, but children soak up this invisible commodity like candy. They love it, because they inherently know it is what they need to thrive.

So fathers, show your children that you love their mother. Be as demonstrative as you know how. Stand next to her as you journey through life. The trickle-down effect of loving your partner will envelop your children in a cloak of love that will shield them from much of the harshness of life and encourage them to make better life choices.

There is no greater gift that you can give your children.

Gold trimmings on the leather bound book

Bits and pieces of me all around the world; residing where my close friends and loved ones are. The world feels so much smaller now than when I was little, maybe because I desperately wish it would be. All around the globe I have people to whom bits of my heart have been given to, a gift for them to keep and take care.

Sometimes I sit at the bus-stop thinking back on times past, of memories gold, and friends of old, who I love so much. Somehow the friends who you unexpectedly find like a treasured book in a second hand book store turn up at the doorstep of your life one day and by some random order, you establish a bond with them. A bond which you would never have made with the next-door neighbour, the classmate who you see everyday, or even family. And somehow, the similarly random order throws by some odd nature of life, chances for these jems to soar the world and achieve their dreams and aspirations, in work, in life, in love. And just a quickly as the precious encounter that allowed that friendship to develop and bloom chanced upon you, an equally unexpected turn of events leaves you finding that the people you love so much are suddenly so far away.

Yet it gladdens my heart very much, to find that despite the distance and physical separation, these friendships and relationships remain, still shining regardless of time and different lives. Sometimes our workloads and busy schedules keep us from writing and skyping as much as we would like to, but each time we talk, I know that friendships dear to me matter as much to them as well. Auburn leaves started a bond that began in autumn, the season whose colours always remind me of friendship and being found. Christmas markets and the walk in the winter’s cold make me smile wistfully, at advice given and taken, and a genuine listening ear. Sitting at the desk learning another language from scratch and using hand gestures to get my point across, yes that was a chance to understand and be understood, teacher and student to friends. Dinner after work on an impromtu desire to meet up, sales sourcing for favourite brands, and make up lessons, they remind me of so many wonderful moments. Dancing across a frozen lake, chasing in the wind, hearing the children laugh and play, that reminds me of you.

The most beautiful thing about these, arent that they make great memories, but that on top of being so, they are still very much alive and remain, shining and true, like gold trimmings on the leather bound book.