Sixth Anniversary

It is six years since I developed Simply Shanah. In a generation and era where everything is about commercialization and making a profit, the reasons as to why I created this space continue to hold water and are unlikely to change.
When I started Simply Shanah; I had no illusions of grandeur whatsoever of ever making a living off of it.If anything, I was after the space - somewhere I can write and let go of the myriad of thoughts that bog me down, not because writing is my passion but more of therapy to me. And as such, never was perturbed over it’s dismal performance. The knowledge that readers find it relatable now, and think me good enough to turn it into a money-making entity are all unexpected feathers in my cap.
People write for all sorts of reasons most of which is passion for the majority. All of them will say it is hard, more so for those seeking to earn a living from it. Blogging is just as hard if not harder. Setting up a blog with the intent to earn off of it soon as it is up and running is an endeavor doomed to fail. It’s success relies solely on nurturing and time  which are infinite factors.
What our generation has failed to understand is; success takes time and nurturing. In the blogsphere: you need to have good content, time to build up a readership or following and also social media reach. All of which do not happen in a day let alone months. And for those seeking to earn from it; they need to put something down twice or thrice a week to maintain their reach which makes the output of good content and spread extra hard because tastes and opinions differ when it comes to topical issues.
I always encourage friends of mine who are better writers than I, to go into blogging just to nurture and grow their writing skills while at the same time build an audience because they go hand-in-hand. You need to have a solid audience before you can seek to earn from blogging for it is this audience that will pay to read your material and recommend to friends thus spreading your readership. When that happens; your writing skills would have vastly improved. It is the same piece of advice I am extending to all budding bloggers and writers along with; write because you need to and not have to.

The Guest House

I came across this poem from Rumi whilst going through feed from +Ideapod   and simply had to share because it resonates and sums up all the feelings we have to deal with as humans on a daily basis. You never know what mood is going to keep you company when you wake up nor spend the day with.

“The Guest House ~
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.”
Rumi

It's main message is to embrace it all, no matter what. However much it hurts, at the bottom of it all comes relief as long as you immerse yourself in the feelings and not fight them.

Write!

Write until the pain lessens

The memories fade

The thoughts stop running.

Write until it no longer hurts

Till you're able to catch that weightless sigh.

Write until there's nothing to write about

Till the thoughts stop feeding your pen.

Write until it is OK!

Shanah

Facebook Memories

Facebook memories.

Ghosts from the past that return to haunt you when you least expect it.

When the little notification pings, I brace myself in anticipation of what  might be in store. Good or bad? Morose or gay? What the post might turn out to be never matters much as long as it is not a rant!

There is nothing more cringeworthy than a rant on social media! The sole bane to the gaiety of Facebook memories.

With the daily ping of reminders, the promise I made  myself two years ago; never to rant on social media more so on Facebook lurks. I did so much of it on Twitter that ultimately, I had to delete the account and start afresh. 

However, the year of being a good girl on Twitter never portended well for Facebook.

A time or two; my inner devil has come out to play with little to no provocation. This is what I get for not being able to write as frequently as I did the years before last.

Being whoever you wish to be on social media notwithstanding, I know this is not the person I wish nor desire to be. Hence my decision to get rid of all the people that bring out this side of me.

I no longer desire to see people who bring it out on my timeline. Not anymore. Seeing them in the groups I belong to is emough. Everyone needs a respite from the bullshit at the end of the day.

As dire as the picture I am painting of these little memories may seem, there have been good ones albeit not so many. They have been enough to smile about and chuckle over. Going through the comments rears the friends lost along the way and ones gained. An honest depiction of life, cause we lose and gain some with little regret.
I had banked on Facebook memories to remind me of the good that happened last year. At this point in time; I am inclined to believe they do not exist. Which, if you look at it, may not be a bad thing for we all have that one year or two we wish to forget! 2015 was that year for me.

The Tincture of Time

This time last year was the hardest part of 2015 for me and it is no wonder  why I was neither looking forward to my Facebook memories nor going through them. So much pain, emotional upheaval and an insurmountable darkness that I did not know how to deal without letting go.

I had to let go of everything that holds me together to deal with depression - to accept in order to feel and get better without getting medical help. One good day; I took out one of my works in progress with the hope that it will help my mood only for my mood to extend itself to the piece. A piece that brought about this post.

It's been a year since Beauty In Ugly. I couldn't read the piece and look at the drawing without tears rushing to my eyes. The memories stung, so did the evidence of my despair. Even writing this is giving me a heavy heart at the moment albeit a little more painless. 

What a difference time makes given the chance? As much as I am reminded of everything I went through this time of year; I am in a somewhat good place. Getting through the day is no longer a struggle. I no longer have  inexplicable crying bouts and  the heavy baggage I used to carry on my heart is lighter. The best thing about it all is; the wish that used to get me through the remaining days and months is hardly a chant anymore neither is it a hangar for all the positivity I needed.

Time takes it all away given the opportunity. Let yourself go through the motions: mentally and emotionally  with its guiding touch. It will take you where you wish to be regardless of the duration. 

Little Surprises

"I didn't set goals this year."

Lately, that is the thought that runs through my mind at every bad turn. Nothing seems to be going according to a nonexistent plan and it hurts a little. I feel like I am where I was not so many years ago. However, those little shadows of failure cannot take away my smile from some of the surprising successes of the past few months.

My writing has been quite sporadic as evident and inasmuch as I am unable to string two coherent sentences together in an abandoned journal, the words are starting to return. Little by little; I am returning to the person that used to write short little notes on her phone and twitter. If there is one thing I do not want to lose along with my knack for drawing is the ability to write. Writing has and will always be my tried and tested form of therapy no matter the situation.

I had one interview and a half if I can call it that. My very first interview of the year was with a boss chick who is basically doing what I want to do. I'm not sure if she felt my admiration during the process but she made quite the impression on me. I remember telling my brother about it later and he saying, 'I hope you didn't show her you wanted her job.' That's how much I was impressed. I didn't get the position but cutting it to the interview stage was  motivating. As for the second one; I was invited but never made it. The last time I ever did anything in the grip of intense pain was my final year exams at university. I sat them sick as a dog and I promised myself never to do so for anything not even this interview that found me in said condition.

As the year progressed, I made two promises to myself: not to give out my number to guys and not write any of their names and feelings or thoughts evoked in my journal. I bombed on the first promise and upheld the second. In a year where it was mentally a 'no boys allowed' zone, there came along two people of which I found the second intriguing. Kind of like that person your sub-conscience randomly wonders what makes them tick then let the thought go until God or life drops them in your lap and the more you get to know them the curiouser and curiouser you become!

Still on the breaking of the 'no boys allowed' zone. I went on an indescribable thing. I am not sure if it was a date or a drive-by or whatever they call it nowadays with a guy who I found in the company of his friends! Those were the most awkward 30 minutes of my life and an experience I would care less to repeat. I had no idea boys do such things. He should have told me to bring my friends too.

There have been a few uncharacteristically crazy happenings which I hope not to repeat in the next couple of months and years. I want them to end with just one person for the rest of my life regardless of the stay in each other's lives. My inner crazy came out, played and called it. That's it.

The best part of it all are the boundless moments of inspiration. I may not have shared much on Simply Shanah but my drawing is the constant positive right now and I love it. I have been able to draw a couple of drawings using my favourite medium while trying my hand albeit unsuccessfully at color and painting. Those two mediums are not my forte and I even wonder why I bother!

I am such a pessimist. I believe in promises when they come true however life from this point of view doesn't look so bad. It reminds me of why I started a gratitude journal-to concentrate on the positive instead of dwelling on the negative like I usually do. Maybe I should make more of an effort until I find my rhythm. I may not be fully solid emotions wise but it is enough. 

Good Day

Meet me on a good day
When my hair is shiny and beautiful
When I look fly as fuck
When what happens after wont matter
Because I felt good about myself
Good enough to meet you.