Week #5: What Lies Beyond The Garden Fence

Someone once told me
The grass is much greener
On the other side
And I paid a visit
(Well, it’s possible I missed it)
It seemed different,
Yet exactly the same
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
‘Til further notice,
I’m in-between
From where I’m standing,
My grass is green
Someone once told me
The grass is much greener
On the other side.

As Told As Ginger

We human beings are such strange, strange creatures. We can’t seem to get much satisfaction.  We look over the garden fence, into somebody’s yard, and sigh as we compare their shrubs and bushes with ours.

It’s Valentine’s week. Come Friday, you’ll have a newsfeed populated by posts ending with #content, #happy, #bestboyfriend/girlfriendever, #singleandlovingit, #bawalangbitter, #ilovemyhubby/ilovemywifey, #truelovewaits, #missingyousomuch etc. Some people will hop over to the other side of the garden fence with a basket of homemade pie and smile cheerily at their lovey-dovey neighbors. Others will bar their doors shut and vow not to step out of their yards until February ends. Others will just grit their teeth and put a brave face while trying to keep the flowers in their carefully tended plots radiant and alive.

Till further notice, I’m in between. From where I’m standing, my grass is green. Maybe we should just quit comparing and learn to love and make do with what we have. Or maybe more than that. Maybe we should learn to fully embrace the truth that wherever we are standing, the grass is already green.

Sure it could get greener. Sure more flowers could sprout up some day. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy what’s inside your garden fence right now, right?

I have to tell myself this everyday. I have to tell myself to enjoy the beauty of where I am now. I’ll be looking forward to lots of lovely things, but while I dream, I mustn’t let the loveliness that is already all around me, pass me by.

Someone once told me the grass is much greener, on the other side.

20140211-224408.jpg

Advertisements

Post a Week: Eden (Delight)

Write a review of your life — or the life of someone close to you — as if it were a movie or a book.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us LIFE.

20130607-004036.jpg

And so I turned to art. Eden. Life. Delight.

via http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/06/daily-prompt-four-stars/

A Song

Worth Having (July 30, 2012)

It’s been some weeks
Since I last got to spend some time with you
Don’t want to complain but you know
My love, I’ve been missing you
Everyday it gets harder
Every second just seems longer
Cause you’re so far away
But my heart keeps getting fonder
And I just keep falling deeper
Why does it have to be this way?

Well…

Anything worth having, anything worth keeping
Is worth waiting for, worth fighting for
Love, you are worth having
Love, you are worth keeping
You’re worth waiting for, worth fighting for
One day we’ll look back at everything that we’ve been through
But yes I will say
It was worth sticking out through the fight with you

It will be some more weeks
Till you and I can meet up again
Don’t know if my heart can wait
But I guess I’ll hold it in till then
Everyday it gets harder
And every second just seems longer
But we’ll have to find a way
Cause my heart keeps getting fonder
And I just keep falling deeper
Well this will all be worth it one day

Anything worth having, anything worth keeping
Is worth waiting for, worth fighting for
Love, you are worth having
Love, you are worth keeping
You’re worth waiting for, worth fighting for
One day we’ll look back at everything that we’ve been through
And yes I will say
It was worth sticking out through the fight with you

To Those Who Love

February’s almost at its end, dearly beloved. But even though this “love month’s” nearly over, it doesn’t mean that we should keep our love from running over.

And so I shall share with you the stories that have made up this month’s batch of retellings. I shall share with you the stories which are not only hidden deep within the scriptures, but are also hidden deep within our hearts.

Stories of waiting. Stories of mourning. Stories of forgiving. Stories of just simply delighting.

I went back to some Bible stories to get some gleanings about how people loved back then. I tried rewriting them in first person (and in present tense – phew!) so that we all could empathize with them a bit more.

These are the finished pieces. They’re still rough and need more polishing, but they should do for now. Just click on the images below and read, read, read.

I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. :)

Spread the love!

P.S. You might have been expecting a “Thoughts on … ” piece. But just as some shows get postponed to make room for special episodes, I’m postponing the “Thoughts” piece to next week. :D

To Those Who Wait

I can not believe father. How could he? How could he do this to me? He knows how much I love him. He knows how long I have waited for him. Seven years. I have waited seven long years for this man.

How my heart fluttered when my eyes first caught a glimpse of him — he was with his flock at the well in Paddan-Aram; I was with mine. How my heart leapt when he spoke to me, kissed me, and told me that we were of kin. How my heart did somersaults when he told father he would work seven years for him if he would give me — me — to him, as his wife.

I counted the days, remaining optimistic though the months were long and unbearable. My anticipation grew each passing year. I knew that, though I must wait and tarry, the night when he could call me his own and I could call him mine would soon be near.

But who is inside the marriage chamber now?

Leah. Not me. Leah.

How could he?

* * *

Last night was… unbelievable. Finally. After working for her hand for seven long years — ahh, seven years are but seven days to a man in love — she’s mine. She’s finally mine. I can finally spend the rest of my life with her. I can finally have sons and daughters with her. She’s mine. Mine forever.

She stirs. Shall I say good morning first? Or shall I drink of the honey of her lips before anything else?

Wait a minute. She isn’t my Rachel.

The woman beside me — she’s — she’s not Rachel.

* * *

Seven more days. Father said to wait for seven more days. He said it’s not customary for the younger to get married before the older. Well, he could have told everyone that before this all happened.

Well, Jacob shall have me seven days from now.

But he’ll have to work for father for an additional seven years.

I honour the man. The arithmetic is easy.

Seven years past plus the seven years to come. He would be toiling a total of fourteen years — yes, fourteen years — just for me.

* * *

Fourteen years, a hundred forty — what is a year to a man in love? What is a week? What is a day?

Time is simply transitory. I love her. I will fight for her. If I have to work in her father’s fields forever, I would.

Because she’s worth it.

She is.

END

Based on Genesis 29:1-30

20130203-220345.jpg