Paddling in my mind

I am so bored to death.

I am not in the mood to watch any movie or series in Netflix. I just want to paddle and be happy.

Did I not tell you how paddling healed me?

In my world full of entitled people... paddling is the only thing that is probably keeping me sane. Maybe some time, I will share how it helped me mend my broken heart. 😊😊😊

I am ranting because our water trainings are cancelled. We are forbidden... the whole of UAE is taking precaution because of the Novel Corona Virus scare.  All the sports events for the next three months were cancelled. Including all our dragon boat races for the rest of the season.  Well, they used the word "postponed"... we are waiting for the day that they would finally lift the training ban.  We are advised not to hold any large gatherings as well.

I can run, but that's not what my body wants. I want to paddle!!!

SIGH.

I don't think I can live without paddling anymore.  At this point in my life, I am so unsure about everything... my future, my dreams, and my plans. The only thing I am sure of is that I don't want to stop paddling yet.  For the longest time, I don't want to leave this country because it seemed like paddling is the only thing I am living for.

SIGH... these sighs will go on tonight until sleep finally comes and takes me away to dreamland.

I miss how paddling makes me feel tired but very satisfied. I miss my teammates who always make me feel life is not at all that bad (I💖DAMAN). I will lull myself to sleep by watching our water training videos.  The sound of the paddles hitting and digging in the waters have become such a comfort.

So where do I go from here? What will I do when the time comes that I have to give paddling up?

I shudder at the thought. Not yet. I am not yet ready.

NCov please go away, and let all the paddlers play.

Three Sundays and Nine Candles

This is how it goes for me.

I still go to church no matter how hopeless I feel. I found that it is still my best sanctuary. Something about it gives me comfort, even in my being alone. 

My crying days are over, but once in a while, when I would pray, my tears would pour out on their own. I don't know what I truly feel. 

After mass, I would drown in my own world of musings.  Pay three dirhams for three tea candles. 

Offer a prayer for each of them. Hoping against hope God would hear whatever it is my heart desires. Honestly, I don't know anymore. 

Three Sundays had passed, and I stood there not knowing what to say.

Is there anything I should ask for?

I don't think what I have been praying for is what God wants for me.

Is this giving up?  Or shall I call this faith? That despite the uncertainty I feel, I just keep on living, knowing things will get better eventually.

I stopped asking for what I want... because I don't know what I want anymore. I am afraid to ask because I do not trust my choices. 

One candle for all the people I promised I would pray for.

Another candle for all the broken hearted and lost souls trying to find their way home.

One for all I know who are in dire need of physical healing.

Fourth, for all those whom I have hurt.

Fifth, for all those who hurt me.

Sixth, for the people I have taken for granted.

Seventh, for my loved ones. That they may live longer than I.

Eighth, for all those who can't protect themselves from emotional and physical abuse.

Ninth... for those who I care about silently.  That while they feel they need me, I know it's best that I care for them from a distance.

This is how it goes for me.  Each and every time I go to my true sanctuary.  I feel like I don't have the right to ask for myself anymore... because I don't know what I truly want to start with.