When Ironing Becomes Zen

Of all the house chores that I procrastinate the most, ironing tops the list. I have never liked it and was always happy to pass it on to someone else, like the dobhi in India. Oh how I miss the concept of dobhis here. It’s the one thing that spoils you rotten when you live in India – the luxury of handing over the clothes to the dobhi for the most pristine and impeccable ironing. Try as I might, my ironing will never come close to that of a dobhi’s, all the more reason to miss them.  Ironing is probably the one moment when all love for…

The Zen of Mud Wallowing

There is a saying I grew up with: el hombre propone y Dios dispone (man proposes, the Lord decides) and this seems to be a recurring theme in my life as of late. The weeks following Easter offer several long weekends to either travel or be visited. Since I don’t work on Fridays, this means an extra long weekend for me to write, catch up on some much needed sleep, or on the rare occasion, be hostess to out-of-town visitors. There used to be a time in my life when entertainment at home with lavish five-course dinners was a regular…

The Zen of Flies

Like everything else in life, living by the river has advantages and disadvantages. The gorgeous sunsets and serenity of the water are priceless, and I wouldn’t trade them in for any money in the world. The down side, however, is that you have to live with all the flies, bugs and creatures that come along with the water. The river fowl I adore, looking forward each morning the sound of the ducks and coots in the water, even the occasional chatty swan or goose. The flies, horse flies and bow flies, however, are difficult to accept. Each year I promise…

Rescued: Netty Sparrow (Part III)

A free bird leapson the back of the wind   and floats downstream   till the current endsand dips his wingin the orange sun raysand dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalksdown his narrow cagecan seldom see throughhis bars of ragehis wings are clipped and   his feet are tiedso he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings   with a fearful trill   of things unknown   but longed for still   and his tune is heard   on the distant hill   for the caged bird   sings of freedom. The free bird thinks of another breezeand the trade winds soft through the sighing treesand the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright…

Sereni-Tree

This is definitely the first time I am blogging from under a tree. My previous appointment ended early and I am way too early for the next one. The weather is too gorgeous to be wasted by spending it indoors and I have no inclination to wander around shops. This is what I love about Berlin, no matter what part of the city you are in, there is always a park nearby where you can stretch out and find your peace and quiet – that is, if. you manage to extricate yourself from the ice cream shops and outdoor cafes….

Conversations with Buddha: 84,000 ways to suffer

As I sat at my desk this morning, hands wrapped around a deliciously strong cup of coffee, I stared in horror at the calendar. Friday. What?! I blinked on Monday morning and suddenly it is Friday already? Geez. Is it the ageing process that suddenly makes time pass faster? Let me rewind a bit and go back to last Sunday because it meant a lot to me. As I sat at my desk this morning, hands wrapped around a deliciously strong cup of coffee, I stared in horror at the calendar. Friday. What?! I blinked on Monday morning and suddenly…

Dandelion Wishes

Remember my post the other day about eating dandelions? Well here is the continuation of my dandelion encounters. This time I am not eating them, but wishing upon them. I don’t know about you, dear reader, but for as long as I can remember, I plucked dry dandelions from the field or garden, puffed on them and made a wish. Nobody explained to me why that had to be, but I did so happily because it was somehow far more elegant and enchanting than blowing soap bubbles. Some believe that in doing so, we are also sending positive energy and…