I’m starting a new small series on the topic of Breaking Karmic cycles. This series contains 3 parts.
The past is the past is the past: How to move on from your past
Life is not a crisis: What to do when you are tired of your own drama
Breaking free from your Karmic Cycles
The past: A story we love to tell. Or a story we love to hate. Either way, as long as we keep digging into our past, we’re stuck. Because life doesn’t happen in the past. Life happens now.
Why do we look into the past?
Why is our past so mesmerizing? Why does it draw us in with so much magnetism?
It turns out it is not so easy to maintain my blog in the final semester of my final year. But I will be back. Just 5 weeks to go. It’s quite unbelievable.
So I thought I would continue to share photographs from Morocco to tide you over while I am away attempting to wrap my head around orthopaedics (the speciality I keep conveniently forgetting about. I definitely would not succeed as an orthopedic surgeon.)
The next stop on our Moroccan adventure was the Todgha Gorge up in the high Atlas mountains.
When I think of my friend Arlene, I see her sitting on her couch, surrounding by piles of books.
She makes us a hot pot of tea with a delicious stick of cinnamon because she knows how much I love the hot spicy sweetness of it. There is a plate of delicious treats on the table, that she has made for us. Her cat curls up beside her. It is summer. The light pours through the windows and spills onto us.
And we talk. She listens to my stories, my adventures and my heartaches. She shares passages from her favourite books. And she guides me. She shares her stories, her wisdom, her lessons learned, and the poetry of life.
My friend Arlene is more than my friend, she is my teacher. She has shown me so much of myself. She has given me strength to rise when I had fallen. She has taken my hand and lovingly told me when I was wrong, and what I need to do to make things right. She saw the colours in me, even on my dullest days. She has loved me unconditionally, even when I felt I was unloveable.
Over the years, we have had so many conversations, and each one was a seed planted in my heart, and slowly as the years have passed, these seeds grow into a garden of inner worthiness, the kind that only comes when someone in your life truly cares for your spiritual journey on this planet. For that, I am so grateful for Arlene.
It has been a while since I have written something. I think that this is because all my posts are rooted in my own personal revelations and realizations. I share things my life is showing me and lessons I am learning.
I guess…sometimes it takes me a while to learn something. 😎
But I have come to understand something about life and I am glad to be sharing it with you.
If you want to see time go fast, just start the final year of medicine. The weeks just roll by. One semester has passed already, and only one remains.
I have moved back to Galway for my last 5 months in Ireland. I think Galway is the best place for me to spend the remainder of my time here. For me, it is Ireland in all the best ways.
I spent the last year in a small little town outside of Galway. It’s part of our curriculum to spend part of our course in an affiliated hospital. I decided to document our final year of medicine in the hospital, and this is part 1. Part 2 is here in UCHG, and is something I’m working on now. Part 1 involved just our small group of 16, so part 2 is going to be more…fun…to coordinate as our class is over 200 in size!
All photos are taken on my phone. Here are some of my favourites.
I hope you all had a wonderful New year and I’m glad you can join me in 2016.
My husband and I returned this week from our trip to Morocco over the holidays.
We booked a YOLO tour with G Adventures.It was our first time with GA, and we were looking forward to seeing if this is something we would do again. After 7 days with G, it is safe to say we loved everything it offered. We loved how much of this stunning country that we got to see, and the experiences we had. My husband always told me that he wants to ” collect experiences, not things.” and that stuck with me. For me, the most beautiful thing about our tour was not the things we saw or the landmarks we visited, but the experiences we had.
We arrived in Marrakesh a couple of days before our tour began, and spent our time in the luxurious Jnane Tamsna. This hotel has to be one of my favourites that I have ever stayed at – because it didn’t feel like a hotel at all. It felt like home, the staff like family members welcoming us with their gracious hospitality. We walked the gardens, as though we were walking in our own backyard. We passed ocean-blue swimming pools glimmering under the sunlight, trees budding with lemons and lives, flower petals strewn delicately all over the ground. We spent the two days in the hotel, without leaving to explore, it was a tranquil paradise, and the most perfect way to begin our Moroccan adventure.
While studying for my exams, it took every ounce of strength to NOT write a blog post. I was so inspired with different ideas to share with you. Now that I’m free, I have “writers block.” Really, brain? Seriously? Is this how you are going to be?
Nevertheless, I am powering through, inspired by conversations I had yesterday.
I really needed to take a break from studying for my exam on Thursday. My brain feels like a ball of fuzz.
The other evening, I was in the living room with Sean, my roommate. And in my sleepy-brain-fuzzy-haze, I put the lights out in the room and then casually sat down to eat dinner (in the dark). Sean got up and put the light back on. I felt like something weird had just happened, I asked “Did I just….put the lights off?!” It was so funny! We laughed about that for a while. The strangest thing is that I did it AGAIN later that night! Haha.
So, given my history of doing weird things when tired, I think it is best I do take a break from studying.
Instead, I want to share with you some of my most loved quotes and poems by the Sufi poet/mystic Rumi.
This collection moves me and speaks to parts of me that are unspoken. That is poetry. It is interesting to me that while I love to write and document my life through prose and journalling, some of the most beautiful or haunting things that have happened to me are best expressed as poetry. I wonder why that is.
