This morning, I woke up to a moment so simple yet so profound. As I opened the blinds, the sun poured in gently, its warm rays touching my face. The sky stretched out in its bright blue calmness, and for a moment, everything felt still. Peaceful, quiet, untouched.
In that stillness, a wave of thankfulness washed over me. Not the kind we speak about casually, but a deep, quiet gratitude that rises from the heart without being asked. My eyes grew teary as I whispered a thank you to my Lord, for the blessings I see, and the countless ones I don’t always notice. For breath. For warmth. For another morning to begin again.
Life is transitory, always shifting beneath our feet. After losing a loved one so close recently, my heart has felt tight and tender. But that is the beauty of this journey, we live and we live, we miss and we miss, and in the end, we surrender to the gentle wisdom and will of our Creator.
I felt grateful for the peace of mind that only He can give, the kind that settles softly on the heart. And I felt blessed for the good people around me, the ones who bring kindness, understanding, and gentleness into my days.
Sometimes it’s these tiny pockets of silence, sunlight, and softness that remind us how blessed we truly are. And today, in that calm morning light, my heart remembered. And it thanked its Lord for the past that shaped me, the present that holds me, and the future that awaits with its own hidden blessings.
Not the paying-bills kind, but the thoughts-you-once-had-that-make-you-cringe-now kind of growing up. Like, remember when we used to think adults had it all figured out? LOL. Turns out, half of them are just winging it , only with more expensive mistakes.
As a kid, I thought life was a checklist: school, job, marriage, house, done. But it’s more like assembling furniture you ordered from Amazon, without instructions, upside down, and sometimes blindfolded.
Every day slaps you with something new: a life lesson, a humbling moment, or a “wait… I was so wrong about that” epiphany. And I simply love it.
That’s the magic of growth, realizing that unlearning is just as important as learning. You start seeing things differently: your parents, your friends, your old opinions.
Things that once triggered you now just make you go, “Ah, there’s a deeper story here.”
And oh — the best part?
I now laugh (and sometimes cry internally) at people who grow old but never grow up. You know the type: stuck in their ways, allergic to new ideas, proudly waving the flag of “I’ve always been like this.”
Wisdom isn’t handed out with age , it’s earned through openness, empathy, and uncomfortable truths. It’s in how often you’ve questioned your own thinking, and in the moments when you’re brave enough to admit you didn’t know better before. Wisdom doesn’t follow time , it follows insight.
And honestly, I fear growing old more than growing up, because age without growth is just stagnation dressed in grey.
Life, to me, is a classroom, window seat secured, snacks in tow, and always learning.
And if you’re not learning, my friend… what are you doing?
Owning up? Yeah, that feels like carrying a backpack full of bricks. Blaming someone else? Way easier, just toss that guilt like a hot potato.
Saying ‘I was wrong’ takes guts, honesty, and a moment of silence for your ego. And since that combo isn’t available on most people’s daily menus, they go for the easier option: blame. Classic human move, 10/10 performance, zero accountability.
Why take responsibility when you can spin an Oscar-worthy drama about how someone clearly forced your hand?
As a seven-year-old, I had a firm belief in my unparalleled brilliance. The world was my playground, and I was convinced I understood its secrets better than anyone else—especially my parents. And then, in a spectacular display of my so-called brilliance, I messed up, big time.
You see, I was an artist in my younger days (or so I thought), and markers of all sorts were my tools of genius. My father had these very basic, boring colored pointers—red, blue, green, and yellow—that he used for serious work on important files. But for some reason, they fascinated me.
One day, I decided to take those pointers to school again. Again, because this wasn’t my first rodeo. I had sneaked them away before, ruined them beyond repair, and been repeatedly banned from touching any new ones. But, of course, that never stopped me.
I wasn’t taking them for class work —oh no—I was taking them to flaunt. I’d casually whip them out during art time, and my classmates would be in awe of my ‘grown-up’ supplies. The only problem? My father was very particular about those pointers. They lived in his briefcase, and moving them was nothing short of a cardinal sin.
Nonetheless, I took them to school, exhibited them like a pro, and of course, forgot to put them back where they belonged after returning from school.
Then came the Saturday morning, I woke up to the voice of my father asking my mother and our house help regarding his missing pointers, he needed them for work. Guilt shot through me like a bolt of electricity. I got up, only to be questioned whether I knew anything about the missing pointers. Without missing a beat, I nervously replied, “NO”.
But I had a plan!
Step one: Take the pointers out of my bag without anyone noticing. Check!
Step two: Put them in a place that’s anywhere but not inside my bag. Brilliant, right?
As I was scanning for a spot out of sight where I could put the pointers, my eyes landed on the mantelpiece, Perfect! He’ll never know the pointers have been there all along while he’s fussing over nothing. I grabbed my little sister’s toddler chair, climbed on it, and placed the pointers on the mantelpiece. I stepped down, put the chair back in place, and stood back to admire my brilliant strategy.
But there was one key oversight in my plan: Just because I can’t see something doesn’t mean others can’t.
I went to my father and casually asked, “Have you checked the mantelpiece? Maybe they’re there. Maybe you put them there and forgot about it.”I thought I was pulling the wool over his eyes, but it was more like tying my own shoelaces together.
He walked in, saw the markers, picked them up, and said, “I’ve passed this spot a dozen times, but they weren’t here before.” He picked them up and went on to work with them. I was relieved that my plan didn’t crumble like a cookie in milk. Woo hoo! Success!
Now looking back at it, I swear my father probably thought,
“This girl might have a future in stealth… if only she could find better hiding spots.”
Clearly, I had been outsmarted by my own flawed logic. If nothing else, this whole episode taught me two important lessons:
1: Your parents will always be three feet taller than you.
2: If you’re going to hide something, make sure the person you’re hiding it from IS NOT TALLER THAN YOU!
Life is a magnificent yet unpredictable journey, often dotted with challenges that test our strength, patience, and resilience. While moments of joy and triumph bring a sense of fulfillment, the challenges truly shape us into who we are. Challenges come in many shapes and forms, personal struggles, professional hurdles, relationship conflicts, or unexpected setbacks. These obstacles, though daunting, are a natural part of growth. Without challenges, life would lack the opportunities that push us to discover our true potential.
Once upon a time, there lived a poor farmer in a village. One day, he bought a goose, thinking that the goose would lay eggs, which he could eat and sell. To his surprise, he found a glittering golden egg in the goose’s nest the next morning. The goose started laying a golden egg every day. The farmer couldn’t believe his good fortune. Day after day, he awakened to rush to the nest and found another golden egg. He became fabulously wealthy. It all seemed too good to be true.
While watching a fallen pale leaf on my doormat this morning, I realized that we are almost entering the days when the end of summer intersects perfectly with the start of fall. This fallen leaf was nothing more but a goodbye and a notification that summer has gathered up her robes and is all set to glide away.
Isn’t it? The endless roads that stretch from coast to coast. Lengthy, with a potential uncertainty. Always with someone behind, along or ahead of you. No matter how many people you overtake, there will always be a new commuter driving ahead of you. Life, certainly, is like a drive on a highway.
Happiness is a choice. It is not an emotion but a decision. Nothing can make a person happy unless the person himself doesn’t choose to be happy. No one can make you happy unless you decide to be happy. And once you decide to be happy, nothing can stop you from being happy other than you.
Pursue happiness. Stop waiting passively to feel it and start actively choosing to be it. Don’t squander your dreams for a tomorrow that might not even come. Your happiness can not come to you, it must come from you. I have the three basic keys to share that promise happiness and contentment if practiced religiously.
The idea of living in the moment is not just a proposition but an important concept. I know living in the moment is not as simple as the saying ‘live as there is no tomorrow’ goes. Living in the moment takes a lot of practice and exercise. But once you learn to enjoy and be in the present moment, the results are immaculate. You tend to live a fuller life and appreciate the beauty every second of the day.
I have met people who neither themselves live in the present nor let others around them have a peaceful today too. They either allow the bad episodes of the past linger like a bad smell around them or let the good chapters engulf the accredation, that their present deems. Time is never the same always. Change is the only constant and should be accepted warmly. Because even if you do not, it still does knock on the door and opens it even if the door is unanswered.
No matter how beautiful your past was, appreciate the beauty of the present. Never demean what you have today compared to what you had yesterday. Pay attention to the small details around you and be thankful for being where you are in your life today. Vice versa, never belittle your past in comparison to what you have today. Be grateful for all the ladders that helped you climb where you are standing today.
To live happily, focus on the ‘now’ always. Focus on what you have. Focus on what you’re doing. Live in the moment as it has all the beneficial physical and mental effects on you. Submerge yourself in the pool of gratefulness. Acquire the art of savoring your present. Take notice of small things to cultivate positive experiences. Just slow down and relish what the moment proffers you.
QuratulAin Hamza 