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Monday, October 29, 2012

Meditation for your Monday


"Some people feel the rain.  Others just get wet."  Bob Marley

Listening to my rain songs and hoping Sandy will be kind to my East Coast friends and family. 

Monday, October 22, 2012

Meditation for your Monday

For about three weeks, my family has been grieving the sudden loss of a dynamic, selfless, classy, intelligent, compassionate and loving woman.

I miss you Rozy Mumma.  Thank you most of all for the love, guidance and gentle leadership you gave to my Mom and Dad in their youth and all throughout their lives.  Karim, Aneez and I have reaped the benefits.

"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."  Khalil Gibran

Friday, October 5, 2012

Confessions of a Crock Addict

My pals Merriam and Webster told me that the definition of an addict is "to devote or surrender (oneself) to something habitually or obsessively or to cause addiction to a substance in (a person or animal)."  My cousin Jamila uses the term "overlove."  It sounds much more acceptable.  I'll be sure to suggest that to Merriam and Webster.
I'm stalling.  I'm hesitant to confess that I love the crock. That I overlove my crock pot.  That I'm a crock addict. I.am.a.crock.addict.
Lately, the crock has claimed some precious real estate in my mind.  It's gotten so bad that I've brought this addiction to the workplace.  I even purchased a second crock pot so that I have one at home and at work. There's an email distribution list on my computer called "Crockpotters."  Every week I invite these lovely people to join me in the lunch room and try a new recipe that I've found.  It's the perfect break in the work day and a chance to get to know people that I may not see at work otherwise.  It's also the perfect cover up for my addiction!  Ha!
It started innocently enough with an intention to be more mindful of what I eat.  For someone who doesn't like to cook I liked this lazy method of being culinary.  Throw all the ingredients into the crock pot and it does all the work!
My first recipe and one of my faves is a yummy Sante Fe Chicken Chili.

This Cashew Chicken was delish over rice.
Pinned Image

And this Mac and Cheese is amazing. I've made it three times already and plan to make some as a side for our Thanksgiving meal this weekend.
Thankful for my Crockety Crock!

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

A Ruby Anniversary

From left to right: Mom, Dad, Karim, Minaz, Maji, Kahzmir, Aneez and me.
Celebrating Canada and all that we have accomplished in the last 40 years!

I’ve been working in the field of volunteer engagement for 12 years.  I can say with full confidence that I am living out my life’s purpose.  This is the only career I’ve ever known and for a member of Generation X, I might be one of those few people who doesn’t change careers multiple times in my life.  Why do I do what I do?  It all began 40 years ago today right here in Canada on October 3, 1972.  I wasn’t even born but this was a day that changed the course of my life forever.
Rewind 40 years and two months ago to August 4, 1972.  My Mom and Dad were both 25 years old and living in Tororo, a town in Eastern Uganda.  They were a young newlywed couple and 6 months pregnant with my oldest brother Karim.  Mom was a nurse and Dad had a blossoming career in hotel management and hospitality.   Their world was forever changed when former Ugandan President Idi Amin issued a decree expelling 60,000 Asians from their birthplace of Uganda.  This act of ethnic cleansing came with a condition of giving Ugandan Asians 90 days to leave the country or else.  Or else what?  I’m not sure really when I hear stories of police brutality, corruption, murder and abuses of the worst kind that took place immediately after the decree.   Luckily, my Mom and Dad had family in England and in Canada, two countries who had opened their borders to those that had been expelled.  My pregnant Mom went to England right away and stayed there to deliver my brother Karim.  Dad had planned to wrap a few things up before following my Mom to England so he could be there for the birth of my brother.  He was victim to his own individual hardships as a result of corruption amongst local authorities.  He’s only ever talked to me twice about a painful day that he experienced that had him escape to England sooner than he planned.  I can’t even imagine what my 25 year old Dad was going through and where he got the strength to envision a future for his family in Canada. 
Dad missed the birth of Karim and arrived on Canada on October 3, 1972 to set about building our family’s life.  Four months later, Mom and Karim joined Dad and for the first 6 years of their life in Canada, my parents grew their family (my brother Aneez came first and then me) and moved from one community to the next trying to figure out where they could work and where they as newcomers could establish security for their young family.
Today our family will celebrate 40 years of building a life and legacy in Canada.   My parents don’t really talk about leaving Uganda and what that was like for them.  Perhaps, at 25 they weren’t able to process all that was happening to them.  Maybe they are trying to protect us from realities they hope are never ours.  What I do know is that they’ve lived in Canada longer than anywhere else in their lives.  Canada is home.  Canada, a country built on immigrants, diversity and global influences is also a place where they learned to belong as newcomers through receiving kindness from volunteers.  Canada has also been a place where they can actively and freely contribute as volunteers.  My sense of belonging comes from witnessing my Mom and Dad in various incarnations as volunteers.  As new Canadians, they were leaders in the Canadian Scouting movement.  My Mom took on various leadership roles in our mosque.  My Dad chaired a provincial Association of Dry Cleaning Professionals and showed me what leadership looked like.  They’ve taken their decades old experience as newcomers and turned it into learning and support for newly arrived Central Asians to Canada.  My Mom spends her weekends promoting heart health in the South Asian community.  Dad visits a senior’s home once a week and has gone back to school to learn how to be a teacher so that he can compete for meaningful volunteer roles as he prepares for retirement. 
I do what I do because my life wouldn’t be the privilege it is today without the generosity and compassion of volunteers who paved the way for my parents.  I do what I do because there is no greater gift that we can give each other than a few moments of our time.  To facilitate that process for others is an honour.  I do what I do because volunteers and volunteerism are transformational on an individual, community and global level. I do what I do because the currency of kindness makes us all wealthier than we can ever imagine.    

My Dad and my Mom! 

Thank you Mom and Dad for giving us the gift of a home that is safe and diverse and full of opportunities.  I love you.