TTS: Interludes of Life

1 March 2013, 5:36AM

The best part about being a busy-bee is that I work, and work, and work, and although I don’t get to see instant results from my labour, I’ve unknowingly pollinated the path behind me, insodoing, assisted in creating some of the most splendid orchids I’ll ever get to see. Work that seemed so menial, insignificant and like a total waste of time has brought meaning to my life and the world, no matter how small the difference. Only when I look back on the journey I’ve taken to get here will I be able to appreciate the beautiful flowers that now exist were I once had the privilege of laying my feet. 

Over the years, I’ve come up with many ideas; written and rewritten a number of plans and never fully implemented any of them for fear of failure, and even success. Nonetheless, the ideas grew bigger and the plans got more defined. Little did I know at the time, but each time I wrote out these ideas and plans, I was in the process of creating something grander than my imagination could ever conceive. 

As I took a look at all this today, I was astounded by the incredible journey I’d taken to be where I am today. All the pieces are finally coming together and I’m beginning to see a glimpse of an interestingly intricate yet simply elegant puzzle. 

Nothing I’ve ever learnt, did or worked on was ever in vain. It’s all taken me one step closer to my ultimate destiny. 

Thank You God for the blessings

:)

TTS: Interludes of Life

Initially posted 30 December 2012

One thing I certainly won’t do is to allow myself the luxury of living life badly; of settling for the crumbs because I’m too scared to cut myself a slice of the finest strawberry cheesecake, or worse, because I think I don’t deserve it. 

It’s insane how we as humans get to a point in life where we accept the intolerable; crime, violence, abuse, poor service delivery, rat-infested communities, poorly educated professionals, and even infidelity, passing it off as the norm. 

How on earth did we ever get to a point where having your phone robbed at gunpoint, or your sister mercilessly attacked at the hands of her spouse and not reporting it, a norm? How have we, as a society, become so comfortable with having road-kill ruin our appetites, while government officials continue to feed and accommodate their overtly plump bellies at the most exclusive and expensive establishments, unapologetically, at the account of the struggling taxpayers money? And why are women so willing to sing the world’s anthem of “Men are dogs - they all cheat,” then cry themselves into a frenzy and keep the men who’ll one day drive them into a severe nervous breakdown? 

We obviously need to reassess our principles, values and priorities. If we can’t stand the heat, we get the hell out of the kitchen or adjust the temperature; we can’t pretend that everything’s okay when it’s gradually killing us inside. We deserve so much more than mediocrity. 

Well, at least I know I do.

-Tracy Wilbon

TTS: Interludes of Life: The Projext

21:16p.m., Friday, 22 May 2015

My latest project seems to be coming together promisingly. I've taken up a universal vow of silence to keep unmanifested versions of my realities (aka my dormant, procrastinated ideas and projects) to myself until they are materialised, otherwise if I don't, I've noticed I have a habit of telling anyone and everyone about what I'm planning or working on and in the process, trick myself into feeling I've completed them already. But this one's got me extremely excited; I want to be able to document my journey, so I'll simply refer to it as Project X. It's nothing original, but for the basic purpose of having a 'pseudonym' for it, it'll do for now. Or what about NEXT? Yes; let's call it Project NEXT, rather. I'm going to have to tread lightly with this one since I don't want to intentionally, or even unintentionally reveal too much; I'm giving closed transparency a shot here... Bare with me.

I'm very excited about Project NEXT! I've spent so much time planning, and re-planning, and re-re-planning (over a decade to be exact... ridiculous, I know), that I feel it's about time I just revealed whatever it is I've been crafting. But you know with perfectionists -- things never seem good enough. I've realised it doesn't have to be good though; it just needs to be done. (This will take more than a day to internalise and accept. It's a lot to take in, but not to worry -- I'm still breathing.) That's my new motto, by the way, courtesy of Eat Pray Love's literary sensation and one of my human obsessions, Elizabeth Gilbert.

I think you'll be glad to know I've sent my mental obsessive companion on an untimed vacation for this one, so while the the critical cat's away, the creative, menacing mice will play. I feel I have so much leg room to work with, I'm not sure I quite know where to begin. The starting point is usually the best place, they say: Now to actually find it...

TTS: Interludes of Life -- Baby Infatuation

11:04p.m., 5 March 2015

I think I'm on a white. I've transcended my serenity and currently sit in the lap of surrender. I've done my best to control the situation in every way I can, however, I'm going to have to relinquish my role in that regard before I drive myself insane and allow this matter to consume me unnecessarily. I've surrendered, and it's the most liberating thing I can always do for myself. It's like gently untying the noose I put around my own neck with all these wishes, and thoughts, and expectations, and hopes. Before I know it, I'm exhausted and I've barely crossed the starting point. I know it isn't love. It's just infatuation.

Boy, do I love to babysit Baby Infatuation. During the times I have him over, I set up his room, refurbish his crib and make his bed. I feed him constantly throughout the day -- between 8-10 times, change his nappies, brush his hair, bathe him and occasionally buy him new clothes when he grows out of the old ones. At times, even though I'm the one doing the looking-after, he's nurturing me. I feel myself become a better person, just knowing he's there and reciprocates my attention. I don't know how many Baby Infatuations I've babysat in my life, but they don't usually stay long enough for me to see them grow. And that's alright; it's for the best. It chops down the tree of attachment before it borderlines madness. It also eliminates the need for more... more time with him, more responsibility, more titles. 'Bye bye, baby, but nanny's got to go now. Don't worry, you'll find someone else to love you.'

And on to the next one it is...

TTS: Interludes of Life

7 March 2014, 12:30AM 

Dear Editor 

I'm writing this letter to express my deepest feelings and views about The Censor.

As you may know, for years now, I've let this deceitful imposter play at the core of my emotions and reel me into a world of self-doubt and fear. He made me believe in anything and everything, but myself. I was convinced by the lies he fed me and although I knew better, I naively agreed to, although I didn't necessarily believe, what he said. 

I want to make it known that The Censor is a fraud. The worst of them all. He feeds on your vulnerabilities until there's almost nothing left. I fell prey to his trickery and scams more times than I would have liked to. I traded wonderful accomplishments for the illusory comfort of his words. I cheated myself out of true greatness on more than one occasion. All for nothing.

The best years of his life with me are over now though. I've sent him away on a lone boat. Whether he'll sink or swim isn't of my business. We have nothing more to share with one another. I can only hope that others resist the temptation to welcome him into the fortresses of their minds just as I did many years ago. He's more trouble than he's worth. 

I'm relieved now that I've let it all out, and I'm happy to be reconciled with the only entity whose opinion I should hold highly; my Higher Self. 

Thank you. 

Namaste.