Considering a book: Notes on The Alchemist

"The dream-doers are the bravest souls I know." L.F.

There is something disturbing of looking into the eyes of, let’s say, a baker, who was once a dreamer, a dreamer who dreamed of being, let’s say, a musician. But, whose dreams were placed on hold, thinking that he/she will get to them someday. As time passes, someday gets stuck between sticky-dough fingers, slowly suffocating until it withdraws entirely.    We learn to yield to our complacency and betray our destiny. Then, the treasure that we always imagined we would find, that which we longed for, becomes a memory, becomes something that our betrayal makes us now seem undeserving of having. This is a lie, this is fear.

In the book, The Alchemist, you experience this. You tag along with a Shepherd-boy who sweeps you off to Spain and to the desert and then jointly, you satisfy your thirst with some overdue introspection. It makes you think of your own dreams and aspirations and those that you've long-forgotten. What are you doing or going to do to achieve them? The Alchemist signifies, that when you want something bad enough, all the Universe conspires to help you to achieve it. If you find where your heart is, there your treasure is also. It's an interesting read and perhaps, it will help re-kindle some of those long-forgotten aspirations, though it may come at a hefty toll.

THE REAL SELFIE

 

Last year my family and I all did the Myers-Briggs personality test. After stating your choice for each of the (approximately 80) questions, your personality type is provided by means of a 4-letter combination, e.g. ESTJ. You are one of sixteen different types, which can be divided into four categories: Analysts, Idealists, Sentinels (Guardians) and Artisans.   My family and I have read up a lot about it since then, sent each other funny memes, and when someone does/ says something, we jokingly respond with something like: “Well that’s because you’re an ENFP” or “It’s because of your J”. We each wrote one of our favourite quotes on a blackboard this holiday, only realising afterwards how well it reflects each of our personality types. We have discussed and scrutinised all the realms of the test, that we are actually getting bored of it and looking for a new test to try out.

 

Knowing the types of my family and some friends, though, has helped me understand where they get their energy from (I or E), how they take in information (S or N), make decisions (T or F), and organise their world (J or P). I am an INFJ, which is considered the rarest of all the sixteen types (which my INFJ friend and I were contemplating if that’s a good or bad thing). Nevertheless, knowing my type has been quite liberating. There is a lot of reading material about what INFJ strengths tend to be and what INFJ weaknesses tend to be, and many more interesting topics. Some famous INFJs are: Mandela, Ghandi, Batman and Elsa (from Frozen).   It has also been useful for gift suggestions, book recommendations, and so forth. Now, if I want to buy a gift for someone, I quickly google ‘gift ideas for ISTJs’ or if I’m interested in reading a book I look-up what is recommended for my type.

 

So I dedicate this piece to all my INFJ associates, idealists, confidants, creative wordsmiths, and simply, plain weirdos ;)…

THE REAL SELFIE

I have met many parts of my Self. And each Self has its place.

I greet my Organised Self behind the work desk, as it tidies up its space.

Creative Self comes over when the house needs a new look.

And Insightful Self is enclosed between the covers of a book.

My Dreamer Self walks the path between Narnia and Rivendell.

While Optimistic Self drops two pennies in tomorrow’s wishing-well.

I never want to miss a drink with Fun Self, when it comes into town,

whereas Loner Self pulls the covers over my head when it doesn’t want to be found.

Sometimes my Selfs collide, and Weird Self is left standing tall,

And it takes the liberty to invite Unorthodox, Odd, and Geeky Self to the ball.

My Save-The-World Self reaches for a cape and settles the world's mess.

And at times my Self means nothing, then I am Self-less.

 

Some Selfs remain hidden because Mysterious Self's a real tease.

But each Self has its place to make an Extraordinary Me.

 

L.F.

 

 

 

Wednesday's Word: Petrichor

Petrichor (n):
the scent of rain on dry earth.

How to use it:
There are few things that stirs my soul as petrichor does. - Antonie Fourie

My lust for petrichor meets the earth's lust for rain. - LF

The musty, barky smell of fresh rain fallen on the dry earth is petrichor. - Oxford online dictionary

Fun Facts:

• Only noun in English that means a specific scent.
• It is made-up of two Greek words, petros = stone and ichor = fluid that flows in the veins of gods in ancient myth.
• The smell derives from plant oils absorbed by dry soil that is released into the air, along with a by-product of bacteria (geosmin), when the soil gets wet.
• Biologists suspect that petrichor entering water passages indicates to freshwater fish that it is spawning time.
• The geosmin's fragrance also serves as a beacon, helping camels find their way to desert oases. In return, the bacteria that produces geosmin use the camels as carriers for their spores.

Sources:

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/storm-scents-smell-rain/

http://english.stackexchange.com/questions/116639/how-to-use-the-word-petrichor-in-a-sentence

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petrichor

http://www.wordsmith.org/words/petrichor.html

http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/petrichor

Wednesday's Word

Do you remember what you would do a few years ago when you needed to know the definition of a word, see the correct spelling of it and find a suitable synonym? You would turn to a large, fat book! Your family's dictionary (there was always only one large dictionary that was to be used by all, well, that's how it was in our house anyway). When in need of some wisdom, you would visit this source of knowledge, open it up meaningfully and pray that you've landed-up somewhere close to your prize. And of course you haven't, so you then start flipping through the pages while quickly running through the entire alphabet in your head. When you spot the same letter as the first letter of the word you are looking for you start to get excited. From here, you place your finger on the first word on top of the page and strategically slide it downwards while figuring out in your head if 'n' comes before 'm'. After finally finding this word you have been pondering, the right corner of your mouth curls slightly and slowly upwards while you experience an inward gratification that's saying something like: "ek het jou nou jou bliksem" or "I've got you now". This concludes with a loud satisfying shut of the dictionary to which you will return to, to perform the same ritual all over again in due time. 

I always enjoyed doing this and sometimes I wouldn't close the dictionary immediately but carry on exploring and discovering new and interesting words that I have never heard of before. I really miss this, but then I think of a world with no Google and the first onset of withdrawal symptoms start to emerge. But without further ado, Wednesday's Word aims to revisit those feelings you experience after discovering a new word to add to your vocabulary database. Not even to add but just to acknowledge and appreciate specific letters placed next to one another to form a new entity. Next week I will reveal the first word..so, watch this space. 

A tribute to Robin Williams

His infectious laugh, face-making and hilarious accents have captivated me since a young age. He has played in many movies that I love, but if I had to choose my favourite characters he has played it would be: Genie from Aladdin, English Teacher (John Keating) from Dead Poet’s society and Alan from Jumanji.

Herewith my tribute to him.

Closing the curtains.

Your final scene omits the chance for a “take two,”

there was no surprise by the compelling reviews.

But upon your final act I will no longer linger,

no longer remember.

My mirth from your life lived remains.

LF, 2014.

With my three wishes.

You know why, Genie? It’s because three wishes are too few.

That’s why within ten minutes I already used two.

Can I not use this last one to multiply my wishes?

And let the wishes stack up like loads of dirty dishes?

Well fine, I guess not.

Don’t say it again- the genie rules I most definitely have not forgot!

But give me a minute, this last one I would like perfected,

seeing that the previous two were not what I expected.

I mean, my first of three wishes, I wished for a share of Peter Pan’s magic dust

so that I could fly to Never Neverland without the unnecessary airfare fuss.

But instead I received my own, old writing desk and chair

along with this note: “climb on top, if you dare”.

Yet, without hesitation I took the call

(well I did ask to see the world, after all.)

I stood on top of the table and saw an unusual view,

O captain, my captain- no Himalayas or Grand Canyon- no! But this fresh perspective has made the world new.

My first wish ended table-high.

Never again would I see the world with the same eyes.

And my next wish also had a similar and peculiar close,

with 11 children grabbing at my red-sponged nose.

With my second wish, you know, I wished to be happy.

And in a flash, with some of your genie-magic, a doctor glared me down and said: “Make it snappy!”

Confused, I carefully peered across the white room and saw 8, 10, no 11 children staring back.

I had no clue why I was there. Then a tug on my skirt- and a soft, gentle voice said: Hi, I’m Jack.

His pale face and body looked fatigued from four weeks chemo,

they all have forgotten how to smile (one of the reasons being due to the green hospital jello).

I placed my hands in my coat pockets and just kept standing there in the middle of the floor.

Then strangely, my right-hand sensed a soft, light, gently springy-thingy that wasn’t there before.

I took it out to examine it, sponge-like with a slit at one end and red as a rose,

Little Jack said nothing he only placed his pointer finger on the tip of his nose.

Slowly I brought it up towards my face,

I placed it on. Lifted my head. You would have heard a pin-drop in that place...

 But then, quite a surprise

they felt comforted by the odd disguise.

And stampedes of laughter bellowed from the children’s beds.

They were giggling so much that they forgot about their clean-shaven heads.

I understood then, Genie, what you said before: “treat the person and not the disease

And you’ll always win guaranteed.”

Two wishes gone, and the world is more clear,

And I now know what it means to spread some cheer.

Finally, the time has come to use my last wish of three,

With it, Genie, I set you free.

LF, 2014.

xxx
From the madness-loving millions

RIP Robin Williams.

Where have all the women gone?

A woman once remarked: "why did they fight for women's right to work? I would have been quite satisfied as a stay-in wife!"

With tongue in cheek and in the spirit of women's month, which is also my birthday month (yes, I'm owning it!) here is something I wrote to add to the wordsmith locker. To all the lovely, inspirational women in my life...

Imagine a world with no women around,

not a lady in sight- just men to be found.

Pizza boxes and clothes on the floor,

No need to be a gentleman and open the car door.

With lipstick and mascara never invented...

Well, at least less cars would be bumped and dented.

LF, 2010- written for my mother's life orientation learners when they were covering the topic of Gender.