The Book of Tea (Book Review)

"The kettle sings well, for pieces of iron are so arranged in the bottom as to produce a peculiar melody in which one may hear the echoes of a cataract muffled by clouds, of a distant sea breaking among the rocks , a rainstorm sweeping through a bamboo forest, or of the soughing of pines on some farway hill " -The Book of Tea by Kakuzo Okakura.

It is hard to write a review for a book that took more than 6 months to read. Take note it is not a long book but rather each word is almost a page on its own. This explains the length of time it took me to read.
Maybe I am a slow reader, but the book holds sophistication within its simplicity.
Some parts, I had to research them and check about a historical, or cultural story so I can feel more connected with the writer. I think the writer has such a strength in his words and stories that you can feel the flow of knowledge transferring to you without him using the technique of reprimanding. Without the Dos and Don'ts....
Philosophical book in all of the word's terms, away from the religious part.
The book dates back to 1906. Even though it was written in a old time, the writer criticises his time of being disregarding some ancient rituals.
It talks about the culture of tea, "The Teasim".

Invictus: a Poem that Inspired a Leader

I really haven't been sharing Poems recently as I was blogging more about food. ( Shared Poems)
But, I am sharing today a very special poem that has affected my life and I discovered it when I was reading about Nelson Mandela's biography back in 2010, amid personal struggles.

The Poem 'Invictus' (meaning Unconquered, Undefeated) by William Henley, and the Leader Nelson Mandela (R.I.P Madiba) was inspired by the poem, and had it written on a scrap of paper on his prison cell while he was incarcerated for 27 years on Robben Island.

I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,                              

I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Coca Cola Goes Green

 
Coca Cola has used their familiar and distinctive curved script since 1887. And since the 1920s their famous logo has been placed on a red background on the company's classic cola. 

Now Coca Cola is drifting away from its iconic red color, and have launched a new look in Argentina. Coca-Cola Life, distinguished by its green label, is marketed as a "natural" and "green" low-calorie beverage in  a fully recyclable bottle that's made with 30% plant material.

Where the streets have no name..

I have just been merely talking and discussing food and health issues. I miss sharing a song or a random thought on my blog. So, here is a non-food related post about a song :)

I hate discussing music but this song "Where the streets have no name" is special and holds deep meanings.



I always loved what Bono says about Samuel Beckett and the tribute he played for him when he died. At the beginning, Bono says :
"His voice to me was like a stream
Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide
The whole body of the man did seem
Like one whom I have met in a dream
Sam Beckett dreamt of other roads
Sam beckett dreamt of other lands
Of another home, of another home
Where the streets have no name
Take me
Take me"

 Bono was actually adapting lines from the wordsworth poem, "Resolution and Independence". Here's a few lines:

          The old Man still stood talking by my side;
          But now his voice to me was like a stream
          Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide;
          And the whole body of the Man did seem
          Like one whom I had met with in a dream;
          Or like a man from some far region sent,
          To give me human strength, by apt admonishment.



I always play this song in my head when I am walking for hours around Beirut streets, streets with no name or atleast I haven't memorized their names. As I walk to find myself something to make me smile, make me ponder for a while about life, people and things.


We all dream of other homes, and of other lands. Maybe it shouldn't be our purpose in life, maybe it should be  justa way to find ourselves...
"Waiting for Godot" play for Samuel Beckett. I guess most of the people I know have read it . But  I never actually finished reading it. Maybe I didn't want to wait with the characters.Maybe we shouldn't wait for something to happen to us. Maybe we shouldn't wait to get home, but create home where we are at the moment. And maybe we shouldn't dream from the beginning. We should fight. Fighting is better than dreaming..

Or maybe you shouldn't read my words. Those words of someone scared of her dreams.
 

Ending a Revolutionary Year for You

" The earth doesnt't belong to us, we belong to earth "

I am writing a post on how this year passed, but  I  know I will never be fair , whether I was talking about it from a personal or a global aspect.
Globally:
This year was vivid, starting with the Arab spring revolutions that overthrew the dictators, the world economic crisis and the prices of commodities soaring high ,  along with the Japanese Earthquake,  the Lebanese government chaos, and last but not least, the shameful crisis in the horns of Africa...
You can open all the newspapers, websites and blogs  that will discuss endlessly these global revolutions and uprisals, and these natural disasters that hit the world...

*Though I would recommend that you listen to this podcast; very thorough and tackles all global development issues in 2011 and the predictions for 2012 : click here to hear it .

But as this a blog, is  not a news reporting website,  I am gona  talk about my personal aspect for the year 2011. As it was also the year of revolutions for my blog and me as well.

If you had all these , wouldn't you be blessed? 

Kabir will tell you

"I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty.

You don't grasp the fact that what is most alive of all is inside your own house;

and so you walk from one holy city to the next with a confused look!

Kabir will tell you the truth: go wherever you like, to Calcutta or Tibet;

if you can't find where your soul is hidden, for you the world will never be real!"

Kabir- a mystic philosopher

I have always found interest in mystic philosophy, such as suffism and yogism.

I have attended several yoga classes and basically learned some basics to practice it. And I have read books for the famous poets, Rumi and Kabir.

But I tell you,  it is your sole responsibility  to explore this path alone. No class can teach you. No teachers can guide to reach such a pure state in your thinking.And no book can lighten it up for you. 
 And definitely I cant say that I have reached this state, nor is my objective in life to reach this state. But  it is very invigorating to try to be on this journey every once and then. 

This journey where you can find your soul, greet it , and talk to it..It's amazing how much things you can discover about yourself, about what you want , and about what you need from this life.

It enables you to focus all your energy on one aim. This aim differs from one person to another. :)

I wont be going further into this subject,  I am not an experienced person, neither am I a preacher.
But :
 Kabir wiill tell you if you are traveling the world trying to find what you need and what makes you happy,and  if you haven't found where your soul first , nothing in this world will make you happy, nothing will quench your urging thirst ! So,  you will keep wandering around the world aimlessly, wasting your energy , because what you need is in you and what you want , you can make it by your own hands.

Pearl

Loreena Mckennit's Magic

This is a post for a special song/poem ,  that I would like to share  for one of my favorite musician,Loreena Mckennit. God bless her . Her songs are an inspiration for me. No words can truely describe her voice and the music she plays.


I am just happy that I was able to see her live when she came to Byblos Festival in Summer 2009 .
That night was magical ; her voice reverberated alone but in the background you could hear  the sound of the waves as they hit  Byblos port .  There was a harmony ;  as if she rehearsed with the sea before she played live. 


Dante's Prayer -Loreena Mckennit  ..


When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone

I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and fire

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me





The official site for Loreena McKennitt and her private record label, Quinlan Road.

Frodo's Wisdom

“ Frodo : How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back. There are some things that time can not mend. Some hurts that go too deep... that have taken hold.” JR TOLKIEN .

A great line by the famous writer of the Lord of the Rings Books, JR TOLKIEN. I might have  chosen another line from these books. The script is great, not just random babbling of a writer. Not just a random plot for an  exciting adventure.

 Tolkien's characters are not shallow, they are not  just fighting an evil , they are fighting for the truth, they are fighting for values. They speak eloquently, they speak wisdom. They speak about life, death, patience, trust, and enduring each other for the sake of one aim.

But the main reason I  chose this above quote , because  I have been wondering about this line  for few days. I have been thinking :

 How do we move on? 
How do we forget? 
How does  the book close ?
  Will we ever open it again? Can we? 

Or the book would be burnt already? 
Can time mend everything?
 Can we actually forgive ?

Questions and Questions. No assured answers. 

Time might tell. And time might conceal. 
But I  am sure I will find the answer either in this life, or later....

I Will Disappear

I will disappear like the falling rain that touches your face, and then drying out on the pavement, once the sun shines on it.
I will disappear like the green color  of the leaves you saw on  that tree, fades as winter approaches.

I will disappear like the symphony playing strictly by the orchestra in a concert you attended.

I will disappear like the pain vanishing instantly after the needle pierces your fingers.

I will disappear like the lights of the airplane taking off, as it levitates higher in the sky.

I will disappear like the eyeliner that cover those eyes, gets removed off as night approaches.

I will disappear like the words written on the postcard, as the dust ate them throughout the years.

I will disappear. I will depart.
  But beware!


I will transform.

Like that rain drop transformed into free bubbles roaming in the air.

Like that leaf transformed into a beautiful yellow color, flying away from its bounded tree.

Like that symphony transformed into a sweet humming, played generously by all who heard the symphony.

Like that pain transformed into a giggle because the ache was foolish and minute.

Like that light transformed into a vigorous one when the same plane landed back again.

Like that eyeliner that transformed into a plain truth that unraveled the fakeness of those eyes.

Like those words transformed into a memory that can never be erased.

And so, I will transform into something more free, more beautiful.

For I was something that was real and now I am something that is intangible.

Journal Entry : Beirut I forgive you

Today, I will be posting something different, something personal for me, something I wrote a while ago and hesitated to share on my blog.

But now I am comfortable to share it.

Journal Entry

Saturday, January 29, 2011

10:23 PM

Today , it was the first day I took a TAXI and crossed beirut after the events that happened this week.

Today, it was the first day I left the “security zone” I was living in for the past days.

It was the first day, I left western Beirut , to its other parts.

It was sunny, warm with a cold breeze playing with my hair in the cab . Just a typical Beiruti weather in this time of the year.

Traffic Jam as usual,  grumbling Taxi drivers, along with vulgar drivers with their posh cars.

I watched people faces from the window of the cab.

There was melancholy. People looked disheartened.

I smiled to an old woman walking, holding lots of grocery bags in her hands. She smiled back at me.

I saw an old guy with rotten cloth. He looked homeless. He was screaming in the street.He was screaming out of pain, out of craziness perhaps.I lumped. I am sitting here with my cloth , my money , I have a good health and an old man almost dying in front of me. What am I doing here? How I can even call myself a human?

Where is my action?

The traffic jam infront moved. The taxi had to move on too.

We passed by a beggar. At least I can give pass him some money. But even the traffic was fast, as if no one waits . There are no stops in this world. We are semi-robots. Working on the clock and ignoring what we see and what we hear.

Perhaps am not the first to watch these things, or to record them or even to write about them.

But what I felt today is nothing to be disregarded. I felt my heart ripped out of my chest.

Let me continue this semi journey in Beirut.

The taxi dropped me after taking two other people aboard. The signs of fatigue was all over them . Their weary looks, made me lump again.

I walked two blocks to reach my grandma's house. I passed by a place where international domestic workers go to call their families. I always pass by their and hear them shouting with their foreign language and talking to their families with passion. I usually hear  voices of nostalgia.

But this time I heard a different voice. I saw one of the domestic workers, had red eyes and  was full of tears.

It wasn’t just the voice of missing someone, it was the voice of pain, the voice of wretchedness.

I couldn’t help but join her in her own misery and shed tears as I passed by.

But what have I done to lessen this misery? Nothing. I am just a hypocrite.

I reached my grandma's house. Atleast I will find some hope their. Some bubble of joy lost so that I can catch and let me forget all this miserable life I had seen in just one hour!

But even when I saw my grandma , it was the same story. She heard my voice as I entered the house and she thought it was the voice of her daughter( my mom ). And when she realized it wasn’t her, she cried. I hugged her, kissed her forehead and cried …She whispered to me crying,: “Everyone is agonized. Everyone has something to be anxious about. Noone is resting. Noone is happy ya teta.”

True, there were no bubbles of joy but a flood of sadness.

Beirut, how can I love you? Beirut tell me how to love you when you hide all this misery under your silk beauty!

How can you not let us see what are people feeling and going through.

Until when , you want to deny this pain soaring through your skin.

Until when , you want to live with a fake smile drawn to let people love you.

Until When , you want this virus of sorrow to seep into your veins.

Beirut, tell me.

Today, you broke my heart.

Yes, I want to let the world that you broke my heart.

 You told me people are happy. You told me people are enjoying their lives despite all what is happening to them. You told me I am the most beautiful city.

You told me , my streets are spirited. My houses hold charming fables inside them.

But your truth was not convincing. 

 Like a lover cheating on his love, you cheated on me.

Will you give me a  bona fide justification for what you said?

Perhaps  like the lovers who forgive each other  at the end of each fight,  Beirut, I  will forgive you.

I forgive you. Because it is not your fault. It is ours.

Food Under the Microscope...Is The New Chic!

Margarita Crystals

 So, I thought since i always talk about food, and just describe it under what my naked eyes see  ( or other senses) .. I did some research  online and  about  how it actually looks like  under the microscope!

Did i just say "Mircoscope" ??? Isn't it too much  geeky?

Not Really. It is somehow Keegy !!! ( yes this word exists in the urban dictionary)

We will not to be seeing bacteria or any live organisms in them ( I promise that)  but  we will actually observe some food's unique structures, the unique dimensions they take ,  their helical, their crystals and the exquisite patterns they show...

Well, observe the below  collection ( and below links) and you will find how "Food Under the Microscope" turns out to be an art by  itself!!!!

And you never know, perhaps fashion designers might get some inspiration out of these colorful patterns !

So, afterall Geek is the new  " Chic" ;)

Wheat Kernel

Pina Collada

L-Arginine ( amino acid)

Gravy 

Liquor -Sake

Lettuce

Vitamin C

Want to know more how "Rose , Tequila, vodka, whiskey, Champagne,white russian and other drinks" look under the microscope???? Check this link on the Times Magazine!

http://www.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,1999889,00.html 

Want to "explore the new world of high-tech, science-inspired cuisine"??? Check the link  on Sciam : http://www.scientificamerican.com/slideshow.cfm?id=new-view-food-cooking

Want to be a little more nerdy and learn what Technology they use to observe food in that way ??? Check the below link!! http://www.magma.ca/~pavel/science/Guests3ab.htm

Philosophy of Charles Schulz -Peanuts Comic Strip

So i got this email from a very dear friend  and it was titled "Philosophy of Charles Schulz"

My friend is an enthusiast about philosophy. And i thought this email is just some sharing of knowledge or some kind of  a boring theory. ( No offence to the field of philosophy of course but theories are so " theoretical " that sometimes they get boring and going around in a never ending loop)

  I didnt want to read the email but as usual, out of curiosity, I  read it.

Well, honestly  i don't like forwarding emails either but this one was even worth posting it on my blog :)

Great philosophy. It is actually a marvelous way of thinking about life, people and about what you should do with your own life :)

Go ahead and enjoy the reading  ! I promise you it is worth it :

  

The Charlie  Schulz Philosophy The  following is the philosophy of Charles Schulz, the  creator of the 'Peanuts' comic strip. You don't have to actually answer the questions. Just ponder on  them. Just read the e-mail straight through, and you'll get the point. 1. Name  the five wealthiest people in the  world. 2. Name  the last five Heisman trophy winners. 3. Name  the last five winners of the Miss America pageant. 4  Name  ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize. 5. Name  the last half dozen Academy Award winners for best actor and actress. 6. Name  the last decade's worth of World Series winners. The point is, none of us remembers the headliners of yesterday. These are no second-rate achievers. They are the best in their fields. But the applause dies.. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgotten. Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners. Here's another quiz. See how you do on this one:  1. List a few teachers who aided your journey through school. 2. Name three friends who have helped you through a difficult time. 3. Name five people who have taught you something worthwhile. 4. Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated  special!! 5. Think of five people you enjoy spending time with. Easier?  The lesson: The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones  with the most credentials.. the most money...or the most awards. They simply are the ones who care the most  Pass this on to those people who have made a difference in your life,  like I did. 'Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's   already tomorrow in Australia !'

A Great Place To Be

"To stand at the edge of the sea, to sense the ebb and flow of the tides, to feel the breath of a mist moving over a great salt marsh, to watch the flight of shore birds that have swept up and down the surf lines of the continents for untold thousands of year, to see the running of the old eels and the young shad to the sea, is to have knowledge of things that are as nearly eternal as any earthly life can be.” Rachel Carson 

Ain Mrayseh-AUB's Beach-Beirut

Gebran's Birthday And " A Half Life"

This is my first post in 2011. And what is better than beginning the new year with a post about a birthday.

And it's a special birthday indeed because it is the birthday of the renowned  Lebanese American artist, poet, and writer: Gebran Khalil Gebran. 
Gebran is considered an inspiration for hundreds of writers worldwide for his prudent words, graceful style and outstanding ideas. He is not just a talent but a universal legend in the world of literature.

So, I wanted to share one of his writings for him on my blog, and this is a motivation for everyone who wants to change something in his or her life :)

Here  is my own translation for  " A Half life" in English. But you can find  the Arabic version ( original version) below.

Don’t sit with half-lovers.

Don’t endorse half-friends.

Don’t read for the half-talented.

Don’t live a half life.

Don’t die a half death.

Don’t choose a half solution.

Don’t stand in the middle of the truth.

Don’t dream a half dream.

 

Don’t hang on a half hope.

If you shut up, shut up till the end.

And if you talked, talk till the end.

Don’t be silent, so that you can speak.

And don’t speak, so that you can be silent.

If you were satisfied, express your gratitude.

Don’t fake a half gratitude.

And if you are unsatisfied, express your disapproval.

Because a half disapproval, is actually an approval.

The half is a life you didn’t live.

It is a word you didn’t say.

A smile you postponed.

A love you couldn’t attain.

A friendship you didn’t know.

This half is what makes you strange even to the closet people around you.

And It is what makes the closest people, strangers for you.

The half is to reach and not to reach.

To work and not to work.

To leave and to arrive.

The half is you, when you are not yourself....Because you didn't know who you are.

The half is that you don't know who you are.

And whom you love is not your other half.

It is you in another place at the same time.

Half a drink won’t quench your thirst.

Half a meal won’t satisfy your hunger.

Walking half of the road won’t get you anywhere.

Half of an idea won’t give you a result.

The half is your moment of weakness, but you are not weak!

Because you are not a half human.

You are a human.

You were here to live a life, not to live a half life!

 

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نصفُ حياة

  

لا تجالس أنصاف العشاق، ولا تصادق أنصاف الأصدقاء، لا تقرأ لأنصاف الموهوبين، لا تعش نصف حياة، ولا تمت نصف موت، لا تختر نصف حل، ولا تقف في منتصف الحقيقة، لا تحلم نصف حلم، ولا تتعلق بنصف أمل، إذا صمتّ.. فاصمت حتى النهاية، وإذا تكلمت.. فتكلّم حتى النهاية، لا تصمت كي تتكلم، ولا تتكلم كي تصمت.

    

   إذا رضيت فعبّر عن رضاك، لا تصطنع نصف رضا، وإذا رفضت.. فعبّر عن رفضك، لأن نصف الرفض قبول.. النصف هو حياة لم تعشها، وهو كلمة لم تقلها، وهو ابتسامة أجّلتها، وهو حب لم تصل إليه، وهو صداقة لم تعرفها.. النصف هو ما يجعلك غريباً عن أقرب الناس إليك، وهو ما يجعل أقرب الناس إليك غرباء عنك، النصف هو أن تصل وأن لاتصل، أن تعمل وأن لا تعمل، أن تغيب وأن تحضر.. النصف هو أنت، عندما لا تكون أنت.. لأنك لم تعرف من أنت. النصف هو أن لا تعرف من أنت .. ومن تحب ليس نصفك الآخر.. هو أنت في مكان آخر في الوقت نفسه                                                                                                      !!..

نصف شربة لن تروي ظمأك، ونصف وجبة لن تشبع جوعك، نصف طريق لن يوصلك إلى أي مكان، ونصف فكرة لن تعطي لك نتيجة.. النصف هو لحظة عجزك وأنت لست بعاجز.. لأنك لست نصف إنسان. أنت إنسان.. وجدت كي تعيش الحياة، وليس كي تعيش نصف حياة!!  

                           "جبران خليل جبران"           

                        


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Interesting Links:
1-List of poems written by Gebranhttp://www.poemhunter.com/khalil-gibran/
2-One of my favorite books. I highly recommend it :
http://www.amazon.com/Prophet-Kahlil-Gibran/dp/0394404289/ref=pd_sim_b_2
3-A poem by Gebran  was made into a song to be sang by  Fairouz 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQJqu675Ino

My Favorite Recipe

This recipe holds some wisdom in it, it is a short poem made by the famous American Poet Langston Hughes, titled " What happens to a dream deferred"?
I recall that I was in grade 7 when i  heard his poem for the first time . My english teacher was reading it and I immediately and  memorized it . ( Not that it is short :P) . From that time till now ( 9 years almost) ,  I enjoy reading it over and over again every time I feel like I am  losing sight and hope of my dreams. I consider this poem as a great recipe to make you struggle and not give up on your dreams , otherwise they will "explode " at some point of your life.




Langston is right. Dreams can never be lost. They are just postponed, deferred.


So"What happens to a Dream Deferred?"

Does it dry up

like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over--

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode? 
Langston Hughes

Though  Each word in this poem has a meaning , whether the raisin, the sun, or the meat . Everyone one  can associate these things that Langston mentioned to something in his/her life . But According to Langston, the main reason behind the poem was his urge to let the world  fight racial discrimination at the times it was prevailing in the U.S.A, and  his dream was  that the Black people get their rights and live equally with other people after  centuries of struggle.

No Average Eyes

She grows up with a dream, a "wild dream". A dream she thought she will never lose. 

She never wanted to be a doctor, or a teacher or a lawyer like all the girls she used to  play with.

Her mom wakes her up for the morning bath. She watches the ants walking around, while she is sitting in the bathtub. The ants were searching for food in a place that had  nothing.  But look how they were naïve when she poured water or stepped on them. She wanted to have their stamina, their endurance, but she wanted to be witty and sophisticated at the same time.

She went outside to shout at her cat that was ruining the flowers her mom planted. A bee comes around her. She heard it doing its symphonic humming sound to scare her off. Yes, she wanted to hum like a bee..but she didn’t want to sting though. 

A butterfly came roaming around. Then, the little girl thought I wanted to grow up like it; to wander freely, but I want to have a purpose in my roaming.  

She went back inside her house, to the work room of her father, with all the papers thrown here and there …What a mess! Usually, she sneezes alot when she enters this room, it is so dusty and her dad doesnt allow anyone to clean it. She screamed. She found a spider hopping around with his thread.  How fast he was, and how cunning!! She wanted to be like it , fast and light, but she didn’t want to make webs and let people fall for them . 

It is dusk now. Her mom was dressing her up her pijamas, when a moth entered the room searching for light chaotically. The little girl started looking at the light as well, she wanted to be driven by light but she didn’t want light to burn her like that poor moth.  

She is tucked in her bed now. She heard an annoying noise. Here comes the mosquito! Ahh, how she uses the perfect time during the night to get her food. "I want to be smart like it, seize the perfect moment when it comes ", said the little girl."  But I don’t want to live on people." 

 She eventually asked her father to get her a magnifier. Yet she was always afraid from them. 

Perhaps, one time in her life those insects inspired her. Yes, she wanted to be something different. 

Perhaps her dream changed by now, like all the girls who wanted to be doctors, teachers or lawyers...Their dreams changed too. So she is no different than them. But she still holds this aspiration deep inside, that nature will always be her idol, and she will always learn from it.

She is a grown up now. Sitting in bed , reading a book for Rumi , when she comes across this part: “Every tree and plant in the meadow seemed to be dancing, those which average eyes would see as fixed and still."

She knew her childhood eyes were never average.