Skip to main content

Finding my Mojo...




Its been a while! I've missed dropping by here, then again i really have no excuse for not stopping by. or not.

My blog has become my happy home.

I have learned that unless I am inspired, happy and settled, I cannot find the words or the time to come up with something to write, good or bad.

Lately, there's been too much to handle and I didn't manage it well.instead I let myself get frustrated with things that I shouldn't have paid any attention to.

I turned a year older two weeks ago, but I couldn't do my usual growing up post.

I hate that point in life.

I appreciate that one cannot smile unless you know how it feels for tears to sting your eyes. But sometimes, when you let that sting moment last too long, like I did, then it burns you inside, and with that, the very things that define who you are begin to wear out, and you begin to question the direction your life is taking, a defeatist approach of killing the mosquito with a hammer, instead of dealing with the problem.

I dealt with it eventually.

I learned that happiness does come from within, and however much you attempt to cover up with a smile( and I'm great at it)you will never let your star shine.

I learned that life throws our way challenges that should make us stronger, and that's where the focus should be.

I have learned that dwelling on the bad makes you a sad person,life is too short, laughter is a healer.

I have learned that prayer works. My prayers are short, and they work. God Listens.

I have also learned that I need my creative juices continuously flowing for me to actually do my work.

I have learned that if something is worth doing, then its worth doing well.

I've learned that I've got a strong support system, friends that would take the bullet for me, and a mentor that teaches me that values are everything, and that thick skin will take you far.

I've got my Mojo back, the bang will follow shortly.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

An Open Letter to Prof Makau Mutua, keep your predictions to yourself.

Dear Prof. Makau Mutua, “I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be.” ― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye Prof, you and J.D Salinger clearly share no beliefs. And maybe you shouldn’t. But I feel that you would be the man with an evil laugh pushing the thousands of little children off the cliff. Let me explain. Your tweet on the 23rd of Dec 2012,in Buffalo, New York "@makaumutua I predict a military coup in Kenya after t...

THE RICH AND THE REST: The Kenyan Story.

Aiming high! A recent title of the Economist publication read “The Rich and the Rest’. Before we get prejudicial as most of us do, I do not buy the economist on a weekly basis, sometimes almost never, I’d love to, but it’s an expensive habit to maintain. My former boss got me hooked though and once in a while, I will attempt to steal a copy, or go online to their website which has also now been squeezed to subscribers who can access it once they’ve paid for the 'Premium articles'. But this time, I painfully bought a copy, only because of its title; 'The Rich and the Rest. The special report on this edition focused on what they referred to as ‘The few’ then stratified into other sections such as 'More Millionaires than Australians’. The world’s water coolers – where the influential people meet and talk, ‘The Global campus- The best universities now have worldwide reach.' As I buried my head in the pages, Kenya’s rich (elite) made little flashes in my mind, ...

"THERE ARE NO WOMEN MADE FOR MARRIAGE IN NAIROBI ANYMORE", HE SAID.

The highlight of my weekend was an abrasive young man who offered to buy me a Toyota Vitz. The gentleman in question was obviously on a little more tipple than he needed. A very patient me sat and listened to him as he went on and on about his VX, his millions, how he went to the President's former school and, if I agreed to be with him, our children would go to an international school. My problem wasn't that he wanted to buy me a vitz, (well maybe a little)  it was the disgust at his rather brash and unnecessary flaunting of his wealth, (or his fathers).  I kept thinking to my self why I wasn't just shooing him off to do what I went to do, listening to the incredibly talented DJ Adrian on a Friday night at Queens. He spoke flawless Sheng, which I thought was cool, and told me that he was a well educated and wealthy young man. Naturally I was put off by his display of a hangover from teenage bravado, but engaged him just to understand he had to talk Money so fast, I...