Category: Life

  • Break the stigma

    Break the stigma

    We dehumanise the human when we label their emotional experience as an illness.

    The moment we attach a label to a life experience, we focus on the label and discard the merits of the experience.

    We make people invisible when we deny the reality of their experience by suggesting that there is something clinically wrong with them, despite causality of their emotional upheaval being clearly associated with their experiences in life.

    The victim readily embraces such labels because it offers hope where they feel hopeless.

    The oblivious happily embrace such labels because it demands less emotional investment, or less accountability in their efforts to uplift or support those around them.

    Our aversion to embrace the entirety of the human behind the troubled behaviour denies the victim a voice, or a claim to their painful experiences in life.

    These labels are worn with shame because it denies us our humanness and makes us a symptom.

    You cannot break the stigma of mental health by undermining the humanness of the ones affected by the stigma.

    Kill the label, kill the stigma.

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock

  • Always hope

    Always hope

    When we focus on the struggles of our lives, we feel defeated.

    When we focus on the growth, we feel empowered to overcome future obstacles.

    But we’re human. We doubt ourselves and sometimes we feel entitled to peace.

    In the process, we create self-fulfilling prophecies by growing despondent when things go wrong, rather than looking for the opportunities to create something better.

    We limit our ability to overcome obstacles by telling ourselves that there is a limit to what we’re capable of dealing with.

    Rather than embracing the challenges without preempting the outcomes, we end up focusing on how close we are to that limit that we set for ourselves and then grow defensive the moment we believe things are getting too close to it.

    That’s how we prevent ourselves from trying beyond a certain point, and that’s how we grow to believe that some things are impossible to overcome.

    Sometimes, when things seem like they’re falling apart, they may just be falling into place. But when we fixate on what’s falling apart, we deny ourselves the opportunity to see how it may be contributing towards our dreams and goals that were being hindered by what we had in the first place.

    Breathe, beloved. And let faith, not fear, guide you through the storm.

  • Pursuit of servitude

    Pursuit of servitude

    I once asked myself a simple question when I left corporate to follow a new path. What do you do when you’re done with the world, but the world is not done with you? The two and a bit years that followed answered this question many times over, each time with an intensity greater than the last.

    The answer appears to be very different from what I was expecting. Initially, I assumed that perhaps the world I thought I was done with was not my world at all. And so I set out to create the world, my world, that I thought was truer to my purpose in life.

    Yet, here I am, contemplating again if this is really the world that I wanted to create for myself. When faced with the evidence of the sum total of my efforts, there are two ways in which I could respond. I could be generous and assume that I am still learning and therefore falling short of my goals is an inevitable part of that journey. Or, I could be brutally honest and recognise that perhaps my assumption of being able to claim a world for myself was born in arrogance.

    The question that therefore needs to answered is not what to do with the world that may be done with me, but rather, what will it take to recognise my place in this world that is larger than I’ll ever be?

    To know my place has always been the greatest mystery. There’s a combination of understanding who I am and what purpose I serve to others that continues to escape me. On both counts. My understanding of myself remains a well kept secret, and as for my purpose, I’ve always pursued roles of servitude. Therefore, any consideration beyond that continues to be a mystery.

    My world must therefore be defined by that which demands my contribution. The moment I claim a recompense, I outstay my welcome and violate my purpose. The end result will therefore be inevitably unpleasant. Perhaps the question that I’ve been asking is the wrong question.

    But, the answer lies in asking the right question. And if peace is associated with that answer, then it stands to reason that peace, along with my understanding of my place in that world, will continue to be an answer whose question I have yet to grasp.

    Cryptic thoughts for a cryptic life. And peace has no part in it.

  • A walk…and a bit

    A walk…and a bit

    I stepped on the treadmill today. It’s not my favourite pastime, but I did it anyway. At first, I recalled the time, many years ago, when I first attempted it and found myself winded in less than 3 minutes. I was still working in corporate. Life was lifeless, and purpose was found in servitude.

    I travelled a lot since then. Mostly business travel. Staring down at the footplate of the treadmill, I found myself walking those streets again. The back roads of Nice, a short throw from the plush touristy area, the plaster was flaking off the walls of the apartment buildings, and the empty plots were unkempt and overgrown with weeds.

    Then the cramped sidewalks of London, with its scarcity of smiles and less warmth to offer than its weather. I walked quietly through the neighbourhoods, distant from the bustling centre of wealth, and saw hints of warm homes and affectionately adorned window sills. The cold mist reminded me of my estranged nature in such scenes.

    The quiet, unnatural streets of Jubail crept into view next, with fallen, premature dates melted and smeared into the sidewalk, and the mocking smiles from the police officers revealing their revolting oral hygiene. The thick air, laden with humidity and a scorching breeze choking me up as the treadmill continued its whine as I journeyed my way to the next city.

    Tunis, with a touch of warmth, an uncanny sense of safety, and humility in large doses, prompted a hint of a smile as I recalled strange encounters with strange people. The trip on the metro passing Mandela’s stop, and the beautiful voices of the children singing their songs in Arabic each morning as I waited for the train to arrive. Probably the only wistful recollection of my time there.

    The walk to China Town in Singapore, or to the Indian quarters, clinically clean and oddly cold. Buddhist temples and expensive shopping malls crowding all the open spaces, and cliques of old folks line dancing in the parks without a hint of interest in the rhythm to which they danced. Everything so detached and robotic, as if celebrating the privilege but disconnected from the experience.

    And of course, traipsing the steps and the hills and tunnels of Monaco. Walking the length and course of the grand prix circuit, delighting myself like a little child as I recognised the bends and the straights from my hours on the PlayStation. But just as soon, the delight would fade to a subdued smile, and then nothing. Just a sigh.

    You’re never lonely if you like the one you’re alone with, or so they say. So they say. An hour later, still barely exhausted from the spirited walk through my daydreams, duty interrupted my moments in foreign cities, each echoing the solitary nature of my life, and the isolation of my spirit. The photos and stories shared with others later on never compensated for the absence of one to share it with.

    But, peace comes slowly and silently when we learn to embrace the inevitability of our lives, rather than yearning for what never was despite our best efforts. The sweat pouring down my face stung my eyes a little more than the subdued tears, as I realised the futility of tears that are left to dry on their own.

    It was a long walk on that treadmill today. But there are still many streets to explore in stillness and isolation. Wanderlust has departed, and in its place it left a quiet composure of knowing that nothing more should be expected of what lies ahead. The weariness is finding its home in the same alcoves that were just recently filled with more. But it is an alcove and not a treasure chest. What visited briefly never intended to stay.

    Thus, expectations are recalibrated, and life…life remains a stranger that prefers the company of others. Exhale.

  • Reconnect with your innate wisdom

    Reconnect with your innate wisdom

    We all have an innate wisdom that we lose sight of as the distractions of life accumulate.

    When we go out in search of answers and adopt methods that worked for someone else, we further distance ourselves from that innate wisdom.

    This distancing that occurs undermines our authenticity, and leaves us feeling at odds with life rather than comforting us.

    To reconnect with that peace that feels so elusive, we must reconnect with that innate wisdom, or else life will continue to feel like a detached experience.

    It is only in sincere conversation that truths are encountered and wisdom adopted.

    For this reason, I am not hers to teach you anything new. My sole purpose is to reconnect you with the wisdom that you already have within you.

    Reach out at zaidismail.com or WhatsApp on +27836599183.

    If you prefer, email me at info@zaidismail.com

  • Don’t sell yourself short

    Don’t sell yourself short

    When you surrender your principles in exchange for affection, you give others permission to demand compromises rather than create understanding.

    Worse than this, when you make such a compromise, you undermine your worth in the relationship by giving up what you believe in, not because you changed your beliefs, but because you wanted to be accepted.

    Instead of upholding your truth, you settle for inclusion by those who don’t subscribe to your truth.

    After some time, when the price of that inclusion begins to take its toll, you’ll find yourself adrift without your principles to anchor you, and with the realisation that they never really accepted you in the first place.

    How could they if you didn’t reveal to them the truth of who you were?

    That’s when life feels empty or burdensome, and anger becomes the tool through which we demand our significance in those relationships because we were hoping that at some point they would see our sacrifice and appreciate us for it, only to discover that our sacrifice was never important to begin with.

    That anger is not always directed at those who didn’t appreciate us. Often, it’s directed at ourselves for not being good enough.

    Think carefully before you compromise who you are just so that you can fit in. Every compromise comes at a cost. Be sure that you’re willing to pay the cost before you lose yourself in the process.

  • More than mindfulness

    More than mindfulness

    What we respond to reflects our personal values.

    How we respond reflects our ego.

    Emotional mindfulness is key to getting this right.

    Situational mindfulness is knowing which battles to choose. That’s our value system that drives our choices.

    Emotional mindfulness is being aware of how we feel when we choose our battles. That’s our self worth that comes into play.

    Recognising the difference allows us to be more effective at achieving the positive outcomes that we hope for in life, rather than self-sabotaging because of our insecurities that may contaminate our tone in communicating what we feel strongly about.

    Take your mindfulness to the next level.

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  • Poetry of old

    Poetry of old

    “Poetry often belies the age of the poet,

    but always reveals the struggles of the soul.

    What we write of youth, applies to old.

    But most would rather resist it,

    Than bear the truth be told.

    I’m in love with life.

    But I hate the world.”

    It’s possible to live life romantically, you know. Despite the horrors and pain that appear to be so pervasive in this world, perhaps romance is the ultimate rebellion against the cruelty of life.

    Perhaps.

    This is something that I wrote a few years ago, it still accurately describes my conflicted relationship with this world.

    What you take from this, be it pessimistic, optimistic, or simply cynical, is a reflection of who you are and what your current relationship is with your world.

    Yet, most will read into this what they believe to be true about me, not realising that what we see in others is a reflection of what we are hopeful, grateful, or bitter about in that moment.

    How connected are you with your relationship with the world around you?