Give cities a chance

It is certainly surreal to see the cities that I have lived in going up in flames in the midst of chaos. Anyone who knows me knows that I love walking around and getting lost in each of the cities that I have lived in. I love frequenting the local mom-and-pop stores and exploring the different neighbourhoods. 

Chances are if you have ever visited with me, you know I will take you on an intimate tour that makes you forget about the "landmarks" and leaves you with vivid memories of living like a local. 

What is beautiful about cities is there is a strong sense of community, and it doesn't take much to become a familiar face at a local eatery or shop. It doesn't take much to belong. That aspect is something I feel often gets overlooked. There is this narrative that cities are cold and crime-infested; that it is better to move to the suburbs. What is often missed is that each city has communities that are resilient and look out for their own. 

I guess what I am trying to say is, sure, cities get trashed from time to time. Bad apples come through and they wreak havoc. That gets sensationalized through media because people are attracted to disasters and it drives the rating. 

What doesn't get enough press is what happens later. Because if you stay a bit longer, always, afterwards, the community comes together and rebuild. What is often overlooked is in the cities there are honest-to-God folks. who are constantly trying to stay put and make it work - the locals and the people who choose to live there. 

So, yes, the smoke rises and people loot. But that is only half the story. The story of any city though is the storied lives of its people and their quest to give character to the place they call home.

Grief - written following the riots of May 31st

What we are witnessing is grief expressed. Grief that has not been [properly] acknowledged. Grief that has been denied, bottled up, kept in the dark. 

You see, grief is energy, and it needs to be channelled however long it takes, whenever it takes. It can be in the form of crying, wailing, gnashing of teeth. It can be quiet and private. It can be raging. Regardless, grief is messy and it needs to be channelled. Yet, when that expression of grief has been belittled, discarded, or rushed because society is not comfortable with it. Because we want to move on, get on with it, we invalidate grief and the person or peoples experiencing it. 

So, what we are seeing now is grief, grief that has been repressed and contained for so long that the dam is breaking. Grief that has been belittled because the skin tone, gender, religion or creed is not the same as ours. 

We are confronted with it, and it makes us uncomfortable. But it is not about our comfort level, it is about allowing grief to be expressed, because, in the end, grief is one of the strongest emotions that is shared across humanity. 

So, during these times of trouble, I dare you to face it, bear witness to it. Instead of condemning grief expressed in the form of anguish or riots. What we need to learn from this is to acknowledge grief before it gets too pent up. Say, "I see you, I am here to grief with you, and together we will get through it."

Stand With Hong Kong

 I have watched with helplessness at what is unfolding in Hong Kong. Is it unexpected? Alas no. Absolute power, corruption, oppression, suppression and their ilk are nothing new. Their playbook hasn’t changed all that much throughout history; the rise and fall of authoritarian rule follow a certain trajectory. One reads enough history books and the patterns are easily recognizable.

The reality is any ideology, however sincere, can be morphed into something sinister by ideologues. Communism, socialism, capitalism, any theory along the spectrum when given to the right savvy political operatives and their sycophants can be turned against the populace for profit of the few. Likewise, any treaty, constitution, or declaration however elegantly written can be ignored, bypassed or broken.

There is a reason why the rebellion narrative is so attractive - it is painfully relatable to anyone who has an iota of conscience, who understands the insidious nature of human depravity. But more importantly, the narrative serves to inspire hope as it highlights the indomitable aspects of the human spirit. Always in the darkest hours, humanity shines.

There is also an implied understanding that victory is not immediate. Resistance then becomes a matter of outlasting oppression; suffering through suppression until at long last defiance ultimately triumphs. It is the tedious but ennobling task of keeping a candle flickering in the blustering storms.

So, as sadden as I maybe with current events, I do look forward with hope. Liberty, equality, and justice have never come cheap. Though bowed low by circumstances, may we all stand tall someday knowing we are amongst those who are willing to pay the price.

#hongkonger #StandWithHongKong #HongKongProtest

Part of growing up a nomad is realizing there will be places you won't return to or people you will meet again. That doesn't mean, however, that you don't have homes or families spread all over should you are in need of either. 

Therefore, take heart fellow travellers. While it is easy to feel lost in a world ever descending into chaos. Always, there is a hearth waiting, a seat reserved, and a smile meant just for you. If you haven't found those, then it starts with you to make them available for others. 

The world will forever need people to open their hearts, their minds, and their palms. The world needs people who are ever ready to embrace others with all they have got. If you are reading this, then you are one of them.

"No man can serve two masters: for either he. will hate the one, and love the other; or else. he will hold to the one, and despise the other, Ye cannot serve God and mammon." ~ Matthew 6:24

We are living the consequences of elevating inanimated objects above human lives. When corporations, the economy, and buildings are given priority, then humanity is reduced to a series of numbers and acronyms (e.g. FTEs).

From there, it is not a far leap to entertain the notion that there is such a thing as maximum allowable human lives lost as the cost of doing business. That is where we are now. We went from believing that all lives are precious, and all souls must be protected at all cost, to we can't save them all, some must die that others may live - that is an acceptable sacrifice.

Worshipping the inanimated has removed us from the stewardship of the living. When one argues one has the right to congregate in a building, one has the right to support the economy, the unsaid thought is those rights supersedes all humanity.

But for what and whom do we live? How do we justify that? How do we comfort the bereaved who shall never hear, see, smell, or touch a loved one? How do we convince those on the front lines that they are heroes whilst we do little to truly honour and support their sacrifices? Do we give lip-service saying "thank you for being a martyr, now let us get on with our lives, to pursue happiness unfettered?" That just does not compute.

At the core of any society and religion should be the basic premise that we serve one another. Yet, what we are witnessing on a massive scale is the failure to adhere to that very tenet. What we are witnessing is the relegation of souls and lives to ones and zeroes. That is a frightening thought. One cannot serve two masters. Choose wisely for our very souls are at stake.

I wish I did more

 Some days I wish I can do more

I wish I can take away the pain, the fear and the hurt

I wish I can make you smile, heck, I would even settle for a grimace

I know the world can be a dark and scary place at times

I know what it feels like when things fall through

When all that you planned, hoped and desired collapse

I have confronted that bleakness myself many times

And G-d willing, I will go back many a time more

Because each time I come back deeper than before

I know the gradient of darkness

I am well acquainted with the strata of silence

And so will you my friend

Because if someone like me can make it

So will you

But if you are not sure, then sit by me for a while

Let me tell you that it is going to be alright

May be it is not the "right" that you have in mind

But if you trust it, life will do right by you

I believe that, I truly do

So, if you need a friend this night or any night

Know I am here

I will walk with you as far you want me to

And I will stay behind should you need an anchor

But wherever you go

Rest assure you will always have a comrade in arms

 I have a love-hate relationship with bridges. As a child of a civil engineer, I am in constant awe with the science behind building a sturdy reliable bridge. I also like the idea of bridges, what they signify in different cultures - connection, closure etc. As an amateur photographer, bridges make great subjects - the angles, the architect etc.

Yet, I have often found bridges a lonely place to be. In order to bridge places and people, you have to be stuck in the middle. You alone truly know the dangers that lies beneath you. You alone hang in the proverbial limbo. Many walk over you without a care the the world. Few ever stopped to ponder what you have weathered.

Also, despite it being two way, I have been often made to feel as if I am leaving something behind with each bridge that I have crossed. I have been made to wonder if I will ever cross this way again... so far the answer has been more often naught.

I have crossed many bridges in my life, figurative and literal, often on my own. With each one I have often wonder what it would be like to cross it with someone. Someone who appreciates the deep magic of a bridge, someone who doesn't mind stopping at the highest or center most point, or any where along the way for that matter to capture the moment.