Do you think we’re shaped more by our experiences or by who we are?
Are we shaped by experience or shaped by who we are?
This is not as easy as it looks.
At first glance, I said: experience.
Life teaches us how to live through the many experiences we gain day after day.
And… the more experiences we have, the more we change along the way.
So yes, experience does shape us.
But wait a minute…
I re-read the whole thing again.
Doesn’t us or we came before experience?
Yes, it’s who we are that first exists and shapes us.
Experience follows.
Experience offers possibilities and changes.
Yet, who we are is the root of our life tree.
Or, better put, who we are is made of a special fabric woven from too many threads.
There are certain things that make us but can’t be changed; things like our souls, our origin, and our families.
Yes, I know everything can be changed nowadays, including some of the things I just mentioned, but you can’t erase them from your “who you are” identity.
After each and every experiences you live through life, it’s “who you are” that manages it in the way “ who we are” wants.
Is your head spinning right now?
Mine is, but only because of the AC, which I don’t like at all. But in some places, it is the most convenient way to survive on holiday in a tropical country.
So, back to this life shaping player.
Simply, we are shaped by who we are.
Out of each and every experience, we’re the ones who decide whether to learn the lesson, to ignore it, or to destroy it.
Some experiences may push us to be cruel, savage, or selfish.
But in the end, it’s us who decide whether to follow the experience’s recommendations or not.
A flight with almost fourteen hours and a three hours transit, is not easy at all.
If you’re accustomed to these long… really long flights, then you really deserve an award for endurance.
I think I deserve two, since this is my first holiday with such a long journey.
Perhaps I deserve three, since this flight also comes with a big time difference.
Three or two hours difference wouldn’t be such a big deal.
But… wait, 1,2,3,4,5,6, 7 hours make a significant difference.
Time suddenly feels as if it’s going in opposite directions.
In the morning, you drag yourself out of bed, your eyes so heavy that you fall asleep again everywhere, at any moment.
At night, you feel wide awake, and surprisingly hungry and ready for outdoor activities.
Breakfast time becomes dinner time and dinner becomes breakfast.
The sun that plays tricks on you in the Uk is now punctual, serious, and happy.
How happy?
So happy that she’s laughing all the time, watching people out and about in sunglasses, hats, and face fans; all enjoying her majesty’s presence.
Rain visits often but, lightly so far, as if trying to lighten the mood.
Unfortunately, the mood refuses to be lightened because of humidity.
And humidity is that heavy, sweaty, stick neighbour no one likes.
And finally, after those first confused, steamy, lazy days, a gentle nudge of writing arrived, with a smooth landing, to save these funny moments in this post.
Can you live your whole life measuring things with a pencil and a ruler?
But a life like that will be so stiff.
By the way, using a pen and a ruler is a common expression is Arabic, or you can say in Egypt. If you say someone lives by a pencil and a ruler, you mean they measure everything in life.
Actually… it can be a compliment.
But it can also be a defect.
The extreme opposite of this condition is chaos.
And if someone is known as chaotic, this means their life goes upside down, aimless, and messy.
There’s no way chaotic can be an advantage.
But a bit of chaos won’t hurt.
Actually, it can make some change, bring a laughter, or earn you some skills.
And what better example is there than baking?
My daughter insists on following the recipe from A to Z, including the exact measurements and using the scale which I bought mainly for decoration.
Yet the kitchen under her supervision looks like bedlam.
I usually, perhaps out of experience, take the shortcut.
No measurements, no scale, and always sticky hands.
Still, the kitchen under my supervision looks no better.
In both cases, we enjoy the chaos in the chaotic kitchen, even though we chaotically complain about the mess.
But without this chaos, we would be sacrificing baking for the sake of glassy, glossy Kitchen.
What do you love now, that you hated when you were younger?
Actually there are many things I used to hate, but… I don’t feel the same now.
You could say I’ve finally come to accept them.
By the way, I used the word hate which I hated so much.
But sometimes hate can’t be replaced by a gentle dislike.
Strong words belong to strong feelings.
Right.
For this post, I’ll just mention one of them which is … Dogs.
I used to hate these creatures in all their shapes, species, and origins.
Many years ago, during the summer holidays, we used to go to the village where my grandparents’ big house was. There, dogs were my nightmare because most of the big houses had big guarding ones.
Their barking, their sharp teeth, their lolling tongues weren’t showing any sign of cuteness or any kind of amity.
Worse, dogs were known in Egypt as savage, and the masters of biting.
How could anyone on this earth love these creatures.
Dogs in cartoons were the exception, for two main reasons:
First, they were fictional.
Second, they sometimes behaved better than humans.
Now, don’t they say; after hostility comes amity.
Or better put, after hate comes amity.
I try to follow this piece of wisdom.
My hate levels gradually went down.
Cute and funny joined my dictionary of dog vocabulary.
Until that day, about three years ago.
My neighbour on the opposite side of the road used to have two big dogs.
They barked at everyone passing by whether as a sign of welcome, excitement or warning, I honestly don’t know.
I always avoided crossing the road and walking past their door.
But once, when I was in a hurry, I totally forgot about their routine.
So I crossed the road, and as I was checking the time, they burst into barking.
My heart almost stopped beating as I froze before the gate and looked them straight in the eye.
“You’re such an animal!” I mumbled under my breath, and they looked as if they had swallowed their tongues.
I walked away my head up, full of dignity, proud of myself.
I even managed to stifle a big laugh, wondering whether I had hurt their feelings.
So … I can’t say I like dogs.
But I can say I’m okay with dogs as long as they keep sufficient distance and show good manners.
Pure and Simple 