Analysis, Memories, Observations, People, Reflection

Zenkai and The Steadfast Cactus

Continuing my reflections on Zenkai, I remember the Arabic word "Sumud" and the prickly-pear cactus (whose Arabic name is also a word for patience). As I write, I return to the blog's beginning and title, "Reverse Exiled", to reflect on the long road which ultimately led to the strength and peace needed to move forward. In between, a brief and precious "apricot season" came into my life and was lost.

Advertisements
Analysis, Memories, Narrative, Reflection

A Hot Idea in the Cold Air

A person becomes an idea as soon as they disappear into the ground; I mean down the escalator of the DC Metro, in this case. If I could get out of my own head long enough, I might be able to see myself as an idea too -- getting smaller and smaller as I stroll… Continue reading A Hot Idea in the Cold Air

Analysis, Narrative, Reflection

Pentagon City Mall: a draft

The black ones were from the ‘Payless Shoes’ store near the Tenley Town Metro station, purchased just as August began. I threw my pair of white tennis shoes into the garbage, right there, and walked away in the same pair of black walking-shoes I wore into the Pentagon City Mall -- now heavily scuffed and… Continue reading Pentagon City Mall: a draft

Yellow bedroom curtains
Memories, Narrative, Observations, Quirky, Reflection, Uncategorized

Epilogue: Fixing the Window Shutter

One Thursday night I went to a Diyar Consortium violin & piano recital with Rajaee. Afterwards we took a walk through old Bethlehem along the Star Street. The unique uncanniness of being in Bethlehem so close to Christmas silently washed over me as my friend and I joked about how cold our noses were and… Continue reading Epilogue: Fixing the Window Shutter

Memories, Narrative, Observations, Reflection

Always Burning: 2

Watch for the Smoke... The evacuation began when the crack of the first stone hitting concrete sent shock-waves through our coffee cups. We were all sitting down-stairs, together. Wa’el ran up the stairs to street-level in a flash, to check, and burst into the foyer again within seconds saying  “yulla, yulla... let’s go before the… Continue reading Always Burning: 2

Analysis, Narrative, Observations, Poetry, Reflection

Always Burning: 1

“There is always something burning,” I said. Drew wondered if the ominous nebula percolating between the buildings could be from the demonstration. When we saw a masked figure wheeling a dumpster toward the flashpoint, some neighbors had suggested an alternative route from the check-point. “Something is always burning? Oh, you mean literally,” he said, as… Continue reading Always Burning: 1