Hello, lucky seven! Yes, you are here, the seventh day of NaBloPoMo, and with your arrival, I’ve decided to do some free writing, because Writing Block has come for a visit. I know, it’s too soon, but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t even reach for a NaBloPoMo writing prompt, because they’re only dished out Monday to Friday. So here goes ten minutes of non-stop writing.
I don’t know what to write. Honestly, I just want to be done here, so that I can get some sleep. I have an early morning, and a long day ahead of me. And I want to get into the habit of going to bed early, and waking up early.’They’ say there are benefits to this. I am sure ‘they’ are right. I did wake up at 5am for a whole straight week, when I went to a meditation retreat in Thailand. It wasn’t so bad — meditating, listening, and doing yoga for a week. By the time nine rolled around, I was ready for my bed, and it was so easy to sleep, because the only thing that was expected of me the next day was inner reflection, and being open to new ways of thinking. I don’t really meditate these days, or at least, not in the traditional sense. I run, that is my meditation. And lately, I haven’t been doing much of that. I miss it.
Lately, I’ve been studying a new language, and it’s a bit of a meditation for me. I need to be 100% focused, and I also need to study more. Sometimes, I wish I could just quit work and study, just immerse myself. However, I know it is possible to find the balance, and set aside the time to make flashcards, practice writing, and practice speaking. I need to be careful about that though, because we have a strict ‘English only’ policy at my school. I feel guilty, when I try out my Arabic with our Saudi and Libyan students. However, on Sundays my guilt disappears because our school turns into an Arabic school for five to twelve-year-olds. I don’t fit into that age range, but I am still a student learning Arabic. I feel like I am a child again, learning how to write. Perhaps, this is what colouring is like for adults; it’s an escape from our grown-up responsibilities. While I enjoy taking the Arabic night classes with Canadian students, there is something fun about being in the midst of children reconnecting with their native language. The random Arabic words that are called out as they chase each other down the halls make me smile, and when I try out my Arabic, they are eager to help me. My writing skills are that of the five-year-olds, so their teacher makes extra tracing sheets for me. She also shares her aromatic Arabic coffee with me.
On Sundays, I am wrapped in a different energy, much different from that of the regular English school that opens on Monday. On Sunday, there is laughter, there is prayer, there are women letting their hair down, there are children playing, there is a mixture of Arabic and English in the air, and sometimes, I forget that I am in Victoria. I feel like I am transported to another world. It’s a beautiful Sunday.
So, there you have it. Day number seven of NaBloPoMo is done, and now I give myself permission to sleep, before my beautiful Sunday begins. Ma’a salaama. هذا معالوت