This is about Fear…

This blog is not about politics – and I don’t want to turn it into a political blog because this is not why I started writing it. Some issues, however, need to be addressed, if only briefly. After Trump was elected, I thought to myself: “I knew it was bound to happen.” And there was nothing I could have personally done to avoid it. I wanted to trust that the American people would do the right thing. They didn’t. Now, the French are proving to be close to doing the exact same mistake. Or is it really a mistake?

Let me get this straight. I am not okay with what is happening – still it was far too easy for the media to make it seem impossible for the far right (or for Trump for that matter) to be elected or to even come close to being elected. People are avid for safety. They’ve been disappointed. They’re looking for a solution that will let them express their frustration, their resentment, their anger and above all… their fear. This is all about fear. About the fear and exasperation and lack of understanding and feeling of invisibility/insecurity of a people that’s never quite heard. It’s about the fear of extremism and war and difference. Because there’s a war going on. Of course there’s a war going on and people are all the more scared that this war seems invisible and is unpredictable. It strikes punctually, takes on the form of terrorist attacks and the troops that have been sent (for reasons that are not questionable in themselves) are so far away that they, too, have become almost like virtual realities, except for their anxious friends and families. There’s a war going on and yet no trace of it. There’s debt and mass consumption. This world is moving so fast and in such a paradoxical way that it is virtually impossible to get half a grasp of the situation.

And then, there come people who “speak” to the people and make them feel as though they had been heard. People who make them believe they will protect them, give them a voice and help the country. But in all honesty, it is hard to blame them for believing, because who doesn’t want to feel as though they mattered? To feel as though the situation was going to change for the better? The world has been there before, hasn’t it? The world has been tricked before, hasn’t it? The world has been afraid and avid for safety before, hasn’t it?

It has. And now, as much as I want to rise and shout and make a revolution, I am also humbled. I am humbled because I am reminded once again of the conscious and unconscious suffering of the world. So I will end this post quoting John Keats and try, as always, to work, as well as I humanly can, to make this world a better place.

 “Do you not see how necessary a World of Pains and troubles is to school an Intelligence and make it a soul?”
John Keats, Letter to George and Georgiana Keats.

Thoughts about teaching :)

It’s been a long time that I haven’t written. I was too busy working and worrying about how my students are progressing or not. I also had some time to think about my own way of teaching and TEACHING in general. I came to the conclusion that was is important in teaching is WHAT YOU […]

via SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT TEACHING — WELCOME TO OUR ENGLISH CLASS WORDPRESS

To anyone interested in teaching, I strongly suggest you read this beautiful manifest of love from a teacher (who I love dearly) to her students and herself!

On love, tolerance and truth in our brave new world

Black coffee and cigarettes

These are difficult times for some of us. Our divisions seem more intractable than ever and a certain level of hatred seems to have been unleashed on both sides of the Atlantic, following the tumultuous events of last year. I find myself as frustrated with the dogmatic left as I am with the resurgent right – all while wondering what kind of world I have brought my son into and what the future holds.

I came across this the other day from the great British mathematician and philosopher Bertrand Russell, which I thought was astonishingly prescient and never more timely. Not just because of his belief in love and tolerance, but because of his call for intellectual rigour and a truth based on fact, no matter how unpalatable it may be. In this dystopian new world of post-truth and fake news, I see so many, from all sides of the…

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A specific intuition

A specific intuition

Trust intuition
Trust! She has spoken!
Easier to ignore
Oh, granted – for sure.
But she comes back more
And if she tells you
Repeatedly
Specifically
Then maybe you
Should hear, listen to
The little voice meant to
Save you
And protect you,
Here to guide you.

Not sure I want to see

     Not all of us feel intuition the same way. According to the Myers-Briggs test, some personality types rely on intuition to make decisions and others don’t, but in all things linked with research, creation and feelings, I cannot help but think that it plays the most important role in guiding us and leading us to the right path. Sometimes, I just have a sense of things and I know, deep down, no matter what my logic and reason tell me, what I have to do and how I must do it. It applies to human relationships, but also to the choices I make in research for my PhD and to the way I teach my students or handle them in class. And I am not the only one.

William Wordsworth wrote: “Faith is a passionate intuition.” 

Albert Einstein said: “The only real valuable thing is intuition.”

      A poet and a man of science who agree on the power of intuition – what could be more beautiful than that? It not only resolves the mind/sensation conflict, but also the ridiculous separation we force ourselves to make between art and science. Even psychology accepts that intuition must be used as it creates a link between our reason and our unconscious and our instincts, making us more aware of ourselves and probably happier in many ways.

       Lately, I have been overwhelmed with a very powerful intuition and gut instinct about a number of things and somehow, every time I went against it, I felt sick. Now that I have embraced it, I feel more at peace with myself and perhaps it is the best thing I had to do, along with avoiding self-deception.

I hope you all have a wonderful night/day!

Love,

Sacha ⭐️

The Time to Move on…

2016 is coming to a close. It has been a strange year in many respects. The world lost so many wonderful artists that I have lost count. We have sunk deeper into fear and unrest. It would be much easier to refuse to see, but there we are… This world is a mess, and in spite of this, we still, on a personal level, break the beautiful things that we have.

As for me…So much has been offered, and so much taken away from me… I started this blog, and my PhD. I have been writing, reading, travelling and painting. I have taught wonderful kids and made some amazing new friends. I am grateful for everything, even for the bad because I hope it will help me grow.

2016 is coming to a close… 2017 is going to open its arms to us and I would like to share my hopes for the future. My first hope is that I find the strength within myself to work hard on my PhD and the classes I am going to teach so as to bring something good to the world. The chance that has been given me is incredible and I do not want to ruin it. My second hope is that all the people I love can be well, healthy, happy and fulfilled. That their troubles, if they have any, are solves and their pains alleviated. I hope that my inner light shines for them to protect them, and shines for me so I can stand on my own two feet and move on. Move on with my life, move away from what and who hurts me, move towards the future with a heart full of kindness and wonder.

But even though I know that it is time for me to move on –  and I will move on – my last and third wish is that my prayers for love are heard and that the promises made once are fulfilled rather than broken. If there is such a thing as fate, please let the odds be favourable. Let what my heart feels to be true indeed be a reality in time. It might take a long time, but I still truly hope that what we told each other was real and will come to be realized. And if it doesn’t, please let there be someone, somewhere out there, that is meant for me or please let me be at peace when I am by myself.

Three things: work and create, health and happiness for the people I love and for myself and hope for a better future full of love, the real kind. It is cheesy and cliché, I know… But these things do make life brighter, don’t they?

Treasure to Vulture

You used to be my treasure

But you betrayed the sanctity
And you destroyed the harmony
You disfigured the poetry
Of you and me.

Go and kiss the lips of youth
Walk and drink the skin of youth
Revel in the lack of truth.
I’ll forget you.

You used to be my treasure
You have become a creature
Empty, fake – mediocre
Nothing but a dead vulture.

Author’s note: When I saw the word treasure in my reader, I thought of all the words that rhymed with it and vulture struck me as a fairly spicy choice! So I tried my best to see how I could go from one word to the other. It was a intriguing exercise. Do other poetry writers do that here?

Love 🌟

Sacha

And there will be a flame

It is a cloudy Sunday morning – the autumn sky looks like a very light grey shroud devoid of shadow or light, making the world around, that flavourless cityscape I can see through the widow, look anaesthetized. There is no wind; the trees stand very still; the electric cables here and there hang motionless. I can hear no rushing cars, no laughing school kids and no old ladies of many colours argue down the street, near the bakery shop. Somewhere in the house, dad is watching television as he always does – the lulled voices of commercials and various programs are an unescapable background noise in the flat.

It is a day neither good nor bad. It is not a day that calls for an epiphany; the special moment of revelation seems even less likely as steam gradually builds on the windows which take on the wan colour of the clouds. I can no longer see the buildings across the street, or the trees that stand very still and the electric cables here and there hanging motionless from their posts.

I have caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror earlier – sleep-deprived, sallow, hollowed cheeks, hunched shoulders and lank, unkempt hair. My pyjamas have stains on them; I can see all around me that the house is not so tidy. I have been sad for too many days.

under-the-sea

And yet, I can feel a new emotion crackling inside. It is not a flame; I could not even call it a spark, but perhaps it needed to begin on such a dull, faded day for if it can catch fire today, when there is no precious light and no vivid colours, perhaps it will endure. It speaks in a really soft, barely audible voice and sings to me: “This is not you in the mirror; remember the promise that you made”. It is true that I made a promise to someone, a vow to keep on drawing, writing, painting, reading, studying and laughing. It is also true that I asked this person to promise me she would endeavour to get better and heal so she could be happy. She promised she would try – I want her to succeed because I know she can, but the only control I have is over my part of the contract. And my part I want to fulfill, because if I do, perhaps the crackling sound inside my heart will catch fire to be a flame. And maybe I can keep it ablaze, one day at a time.