The Art of Losing Is Not Hard to Master!

I have witnessed many friends, relatives, classmates, colleagues, and myself move to different countries or states over the years for various reasons: living in better societies with more individual rights, pursuit of higher education, starting careers, better job opportunities, alleviating financial hardships, etc. These moves are more common and even expected for people living under severe circumstances or at certain stages of their lives: when going to college, going to graduate school, starting a career, getting married, having kids, etc. People move with hopes that the new place offers the opportunity to achieve what they were aiming for. However, some people repeat this pattern of moving and starting a new life very often without being motivated by a specific goal or a significant life-changing event. This second group is the focus of this post.

I have always admired such group of people for their determination to advance in life, for bravely starting all over again, for making a new place their home, for establishing new friendships, and learning all about a new community. I found all they go through too exhausting. How can it be easy to start fresh when it takes so long just to figure out who is a trust-worthy plumber in town? I looked closer. They do not always move because their new destination has better opportunities to offer. They do not move, even though it is hard, to achieve higher goals. Rather, they use those goals to justify and rationalize their moves. They move because they find it harder to stay. It is hard to stay when every corner of the city reminds you of memories with your last love. It is hard to continue to show up to work when no one supports you, when all your relationships are tainted. It is hard to stay where you do not have any friends. It is hard to stay when there is nothing and no one to stay for. Thus, they keep moving and mastering the art of losing.

Staying is an art. Making things right is an art. Maintaining friendships and good relationships is an art. Making a place your home is an art. Establishing traditions that would last over the years is an art. "The art of losing is not hard to master".

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop (1911-1979)

Stone Carvings of Childhood Era

Tonight he is the star on the stage. He is singing and dancing. All the girls reach for his hand. They take his picture, and shout his name to draw his attention. In the audience, he has an old friend. A friend from his childhood. She came just to support him on his big night and to catch up with him.

They meet after the concert. He does not talk about his successful career much. Instead, he says how as a kid he enjoyed going to his friend's house. How he liked its yard with an always empty pool. How he liked playing with her American games. But above all, he remembers how she was studios and he was not. How his mother wished he was more like her. He remembers when his parents built their house, they had the opportunity to pick a name for their alley. They did not name it after their son. No, they named it after her, a girl of a distant relative! It might have to do with the fact that all other close-by streets were named after flowers and her name was also a flower's name. Having his name for their street would have broken the pattern in that neighborhood: this reasoning could not heal his hurt feelings.

The old friend, a grown woman now, listens to him. She feels the heavy weight of all the sadness he has been carrying since his childhood. She had no idea all these years that is how she is remembered on the other side of the world, in southern hemisphere, by an old friend. She had stolen part of his mother's love and attention he needed so badly without even knowing it, or worse, without even trying.

She is so glad they had this conversation. She thinks: "Good that I came to see him. Good that I acknowledged he is the star, and I am an old fan." That night, she made a promise to herself: if she ever had a kid, she would constantly reassure her/him that s/he is loved regardless of his/her successes and shortcomings. She would never ever compare her child with another.

I am not going anywhere.

You made it so easy for me to quit,
I so very much wish to do so too,
But then I think again,
What will happen in that case,
The opportunities will be only yours,
So will be the credit of all my hard work,
So will be the claim that women cannot just make it,
There was nothing to stop her, was there? No, she quit!

Historical lessons become all much more meaningful,
Even when dealing with much less sever hardships,
It would be nice to be like Gandhi, like Dr. King,
Practicing non-violent resistance,
Even in a small lab.

No, sir.
I won't give you the luxury of me quitting.
After all, it is not about you.
It is about the work,
The mission I am so proud to contribute to,
And be part of despite all its hardships.

It is about the work,
And I am not going to let you get that away from me.
You better learn to accept me, or at least tolerate me,
After all, I am not going anywhere!

You laughed at me

I told you the truth,
You laughed at me,
You had already believed a stranger's story over mine,
and that hurt badly,

You laughed at me,
Right before I realized you do not believe in me,

You laughed at me,
And I did not even care to explain,
After all, you believed another story,
You did not believe in me,
You did not bother to ask me,
Instead, you laughed at me.

Fairy Godmother

Little Victoria told a story tonight about a fairy Godmother called Nargess. Everyone was jealous of her because she was the best fairy Godmother ever....

...Aunt Nargess was speechless, filled with joy, listening to the nicely crafted story of little Victoria. Thank you dear. It means the whole universe to me, and more.

Honesty...

..is such a lonely word.

Why do people feel obliged to say things they do not mean? To claim they would do things they do not have the slightest intention of doing? They want to be nice to you by hurting you?

I am a big girl. I can handle the truth. Just say it, or do not say anything. I would respect you for that. Do not make up stories. Do not tell me lies, because I would know when you lie. And if you do, you will lose your credit in my emotional bank. I won't loan you any more trust.

Trust

I was waiting for you again. I was waiting and hating myself for it.

I wish you cared enough for me not to make me wait.
I wish you cared enough for me not to make me doubt you.

I wish I knew you will come.
I wish I believed in you enough to know you won't hurt me.
I wish I trusted you.

Am I incapable of trusting you? Or is it that you have not earned my trust? Is this my problem or yours?

I do not know.
All I know is that it is a problem.

The Moon

Tonight you were slim at sunset, reminding me of the Persian poem:
I saw the sky's green land and a sickle of the new moon, reminding me of my own crops and the harvest time.

I had planted something. I had nurtured it. From the night you were blocked by the sun. The harvest time arrived; I did not have a good season.

Our names will orbit the moon, but we cannot get to meet on earth again. As far as it is, and as unreachable as it appears, moon is more accepting of us. How strange is that?

Happiness

Happiness is feeling good because you are around. Happiness is the inability to stop giggling when looking in your eyes. Happiness is being safe and at peace knowing I have found you. Happiness is knowing that I will see you again, knowing that you keep in touch, knowing that there is nothing to doubt, because everything feels just right! I do not need to persuade anybody or to be persuaded to feel anything; I do not need to push someone to change, and no one is demanding me to change. Happiness is here. Happiness is here because you and I have come a long way to be here together. I do not care what the future holds. Right now, I am happy.

Angels

I see angels everyday. The security guard who won't let me in unless I give him a smile, makes my day, he is an angel. So is the nurse whom I went to for a bad headache I got at work. She did not let me leave until I scheduled a physical exam because I had not had one in a long time. I realized later that I had to take care of a condition that could have become problematic later. Our secretary was driving behind me today and noticed that my car's brake lights were not working and let me know. She avoided a dangerous accident I could get into, she is an angel.

There are angels everywhere. Look closer. Try to be one, it is not that hard. All you have to do is to care a little more about people around you.

Eyes

I had never met you
You had never met me
Our eyes cross each other
and we know:
You want to know me,
I want to know you.
What loyal masters are our eyes
Welcoming beauty to our lives
Every single day.

Peace

I have been longing for you,
You kept running away,
Whenever you decided to stay,
Someone or something stole you away,
Now you are here,
I am here,
and I know how precious you are,
No more doubts,
I am not giving you away,
Not ever again,
My dear inner Peace.

Lucky Seven

We met on the seventh of a month in 07.
I thought "Seven is a lucky number".
We met seven times.
It was the seventh of another month when you said goodbye.
I thought "Seven is a lucky number"!